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katebishopsbow · 6 months

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MISSING PIECE • F1 GRID

pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader (platonic)

summary: you have always taken pride in your ability to handle the press, until a journalist mentioned a sensitive topic that you had tried desperately to avoid – your estranged father. you struggled to give a response, and your fellow drivers showed no hesitation to jump in and defend you.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, daddy issues, mentions of abusive parent, found family

word count: 3k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Formula 1 journalists have always been known to be brutal – asking questions that teetered on the brink of privacy violation and unnecessarily hostile probing with the excuse of “providing insightful coverage” on the highly competitive sport.

That was why media training existed – to prepare drivers for the harshest, most demanding questions thrown at them and rewire their brains such that instead of lashing out, they would be able to gracefully divert the focus to something else while also preserving their pristine image.

You had always excelled at handling the media, and your ability to constantly remain level-headed even when they asked the most ridiculous of questions was something you took pride in – until a journalist purposefully asked about a subject you had desperately tried to avoid ever since your F1 career started.

The relationship you and your father had was rather difficult to explain. The two of you became distant since the day your parents divorced and you decided to walk away from his constant emotional unavailability and manipulation he so skillfully disguised as paternal love. He didn’t bother asking you to stay �� well, he never bothered doing anything when it came to you. He called occasionally, only when he needed something from you and your mother, and sent birthday cards out of obligation a month late because god forbid he remembered your birthday if your mother hadn’t reminded him.

Then the calls became less frequent, and then they stopped altogether, and his empty promises of visiting became blatant lies that you no longer believed in. Your father gradually turned into a stranger, a missing piece, a clouded memory left behind in the childhood days of your life.

It was a hard subject for you to talk about, something you would much rather keep away from the limelight and scrutiny of the world. Unfortunately for you, secrets weren’t really a thing in F1, and the obvious absence of one of your parents on the grid and in all your victory celebrations had been noticed by the public’s watchful eyes.

So your secret was no longer a secret. All the drivers on the grid were aware of it, and a few closest to you had known the full truth of your strained relationship with your father, but they all avoided mentioning it as they knew it was a family matter you wanted to remain private. Most journalists were also respectful enough to avoid asking insensitive questions when interviewing you, phrasing their words like “How will you celebrate the win with your family?” instead of using the term “parents”, and you were more than appreciative of that.

So when the voice of a certain reporter who was known to be ruthless with his questioning echoed through the press conference, directing the uncomfortable and out-of-the-blue question toward you, you suddenly found yourself at a loss for words.

“Rumors have been circulating the Internet recently about you and your father. There are accusations against you claiming that you were ‘selfish’ and ‘ungrateful’ for cutting off ties with your parent, that a callous and unforgiving person such as yourself does not deserve a seat or to be the inspiration for young minds. What are your comments on such claims, and have you ever experienced regret for turning your back on your family – your very own flesh and blood?”

The sudden silence in the room was suffocating, and the only sound you could hear was the heartbeat that was drumming loudly in your ears as the colour drained from your face. The discussion revolving around your relationship with your father wasn’t anything you were unfamiliar with, but to hear it being brought up so directly in front of the press and all your fellow drivers, and all the demeaning names that people had called you – it had felt so demoralizing.

What happened between you and your dad was entirely private, people outside of your family who had never gone through what you had experienced should never have the right to make comments on your decision to leave. They didn’t know what it was like to have a father who was never there, who constantly let you down with his lies and broken promises, who subjected all his volatile temper and toxic outbursts to his daughter and wife.

You had enough of his bullshit and were simply sick of pretending to be the perfect little family, so you left with your mother and told yourself that you would never look back. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t miss the presence of your dad every now and then – the palpable emptiness he left behind had and would continue to haunt you – but you also never once regretted your decision.

“I – I don’t think… these accusations… umm –” The composure you had always displayed in front of the media was long gone, and you struggled to find the right words to say in response to such an uncomfortable question. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixated on you while that journalist watched you with an inspective expression on his face, just waiting for the moment when you break – wanting you to lose control so that he could have the reaction he needed to write his article.

And all of a sudden, you were back in your childhood home, standing in the living room with your head hung low, fighting back tears as your father unleashed his wrath at you over the smallest, most trivial things. “What’re you crying for, huh? You want me to give you something to cry about?” he would say to you, his voice harsh and venomous as he screamed out insults that scarred your fragile little heart.

Then you were back in your grade school classroom, standing in front of the whole class and staying completely silent after your teacher assigned you the speech topic “My dad is my hero”. Your classmates looked at you as if you had grown a second head, confused by the way you were struggling to speak about a topic they could so easily blabber on for hours. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything – your dad was never your hero, he was a distant stranger who struck fear within you whenever he was around.

Then you were back in the bedroom at your new home, reading the birthday card that your dad had sent to you a month late. Written in the top left corner of the page was a scribble of your name, completely misspelled. You closed the card with tears brimming in your eyes, knowing that your existence was slowly beginning to fade from your father’s memories. You tried to remember what his voice sounded like, his calloused hands, his boisterous laughter on the rare days when he wasn’t screaming profanities at you and your mother, and then you realized that he was beginning to fade from yours, and it had felt so, so painful.

Blinking away the hectic memories, you were quickly dragged back to the reality of the press conference. Everyone was still waiting for your response, and the reporter continued to wait for you to crumble under pressure, but all you wanted to do was to run out of the room and hide from people’s blazing eyes, to not have the world criticize you on how you dealt with your family trauma.

“I think that is an absolutely unprofessional question to ask if I am being honest.” Max’s stern voice finally broke the silence, and you were still attempting to process the situation when he continued to chastise the overstepping journalist with an irritated scowl, “The focus of the press conference is to discuss the races and the drivers’ performances on the track, not to delve into people’s personal matter and bring up their family situations which clearly do not have any relevance to the sport.”

The Dutch driver had always been brutally honest, never afraid to speak his mind and call out the press for their bullshit, and this was no exception. Having a complicated relationship with his father himself, he knew the hardships of being in your situation and struggling with toxic family dynamics, and he experienced first-hand how the media loved exploiting such issues for the sake of a story. More importantly, you were his friend, and he would do anything to defend you.

You exchanged thankful glances with the driver next to you, feeling the warmth that blossomed over your heart when Max placed his hand over your trembling ones beneath the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze in a way that meant “Don’t worry. I got your back”.

Upon hearing what Max had to say, the reporter was quick to defend himself. “I was merely hoping to get some insights on whether or not the recent rumors had affected her performance on the track. That’s all,” he attempted to reason, trying to rationalize his intrusive question but was interrupted by another driver who frankly also had enough.

“I think everybody in this room is well aware that is not your intention,” Charles spoke up from his seat, staring at the lying journalist with a tight-lipped smile that was far from friendly. Being one of your closest friends on the grid, Charles was also no stranger to your father’s abusive tendencies and knew how tough it was for you to open up to him about such horrible memories. To see the press tried to take advantage of your vulnerability and blatantly lie about their ill intention sickened him, and he was not going to just sit and watch it happen.

The McLaren driver sitting beside him nodded as he let out a light chuckle, “Yeah I mean – I’m literally an idiot at reading the room but even I can tell that getting racing insights was not your only intention, mate.” The audacity some of these journalists and reporters had was astounding, thinking they could get away with asking disrespectful questions just because of their job titles. When it came to snapping back at their baleful antics, Lando did it once on camera with his iconic “Who are you?” and he would certainly do it again.

Carlos couldn’t help but smirk at Lando's cleverness – masking his reproval at the journalist with a self-deprecating joke. When his attention landed on the audience seated before him, he allowed himself to enjoy the caught-off-guard look on the journalist's now reddened face. “Serves him right for asking stupid questions,” Carlos muttered in a hushed voice just loud enough for himself to hear before turning his head to catch your eyes, shooting you a quick smile as a sign of support. You returned the kind gesture, thankful that your friends were standing by your side when you needed help.

As the journalist busied himself with trying to recollect his composure, an awkward silence hung upon the room once again. That was when Daniel perked up from his seat, the usual cheerful smile on his face as he proceeded to do what he did best – easing the tense atmosphere and diffusing the tension with a touch of humour. “Well, I can totally affirm that Lando can be an idiot sometimes,” he joked while grinning mischievously at the papaya driver, and the mood in the room visibly lightened as a few reporters laughed at his playful words.

“But on a more serious note though, I do believe it’s important to remember that drivers are also human beings, and we all have our own struggles and difficulties both on and off track. It’s crucial to respect drivers’ boundaries and not exploit their personal struggles, and our sole focus should always be on the sport and racing,” Daniel voiced out respectfully, emphasizing the one thing that people always seemed to forget – that drivers deserved privacy and owed nobody any explanations on their personal lives, even if they lived under the spotlight.

Oscar and Pierre who were seated at the further end of the table also nodded at Daniel’s resonating words, expressing their agreement on the importance of maintaining a respectful and uplifting environment for all drivers. “What are your thoughts, y/n?” A female reporter in the crowd raised the question, subtly giving you an encouraging smile as she steered the attention back to you, offering you the chance to speak your truth and address the situation directly.

The fear and dread within you slowly dissipated, replacing them was the heartwarming gratitude at your fellow drivers who showed no hesitation in defending you in the face of intrusive questioning. It was then that you realized you were never alone in this journey, that the other drivers on the grid were not only your competitors but your family who understood what you had gone through and would unconditionally have your back.

It was their reassuring glances, their wholehearted support, and their willingness to stand up for you that enveloped you with the strength and courage needed to finally speak up for yourself. “I would like to start off by thanking all the drivers here with me, and thank you to the journalist for that rather personal question,” you spoke clearly at your microphone, your voice emboldened by the newly found determination as you watched the journalist shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“While I do appreciate the public’s concern regarding my family issues, I would prefer to keep my personal life private. The decision to distance myself from my father to prioritize my well-being and emotional health is not something I regret doing, and it is not fair for people outside my family who don’t understand the complexities of our relationship to make assumptions on the matter.”

Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you made the closing remarks to your statement, “Which is why I kindly ask for your understanding and space moving forward, to respect the privacy of not only me but everybody on the grid and allow us to deal with our personal matter privately, and ultimately create a respectful community within Formula 1.”

You looked around the room when you had finally finished speaking, meeting the eyes of your fellow drivers and the rows of reporters sitting before you. Your hands were still shaking from the nerves that pulsated through you, but a firm squeeze of Max’s hand pulled you back to the present before you could begin spiraling. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said with a gentle smile.

The media training sessions had come in handy once again, and you managed to address the situation in a graceful manner without revealing more details than you were comfortable sharing while also highlighting the importance of personal boundaries in the world of motorsports. “Thank you, y/n,” the previous female reporter nodded at you with a proud smile, glad that you put those unprofessional reporters who had no sense of boundaries back in their place.

Among the sea of cameras and eager reporters who could so easily expose the vulnerabilities of the drivers with a simple flick of their pens, some suddenly found themselves becoming the subject of such exposure, called out for their prying questions and insatiable need to twist people’s words for a click-worthy story.

It was evident that what you and the other drivers said had struck something within them as they silently began reflecting on their roles and responsibilities as reporters, and perhaps remembering the reason why they had chosen journalism in the first place – to report the factual truth to the public, or to fabricate things in exchange for views and attention?

The press conference proceeded to continue, but the shift in the atmosphere was apparent when journalists asked their questions with more sensitivity and introspection, mentioning topics that genuinely mattered instead of blindly chasing exclusive headlines. When the conference finally ended, you and all the drivers collectively exuded a breath of relief, feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders now that the far-from-enjoyable media day was over.

As you exited the room and were away from the cameras and people, you turned around and gave your friends an appreciative smile. “Thank you all… for standing up for me.” You must have sounded like you were close to tears because Daniel began cooing at you teasingly as if he were comforting a crying child, “Aww… don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

Charles leaned forward to ruffle your hair almost like what an older brother would, and he said to you tenderly, “We’re a team, and we’ll always have your back.” You were not going to cry initially, but now you weren’t so sure. At that moment, you had felt so loved, so supported, and it made you want to hide under the covers and bawl your eyes out from the rush of emotions that crashed over you.

Your friends, understanding the depths of your emotions, gathered around to offer you their words of encouragement and gentle pats on your back. “I love you guys, really…” you whispered quietly, looking at them with such sincerity and gratitude. How lucky were you to be able to have these people as your competitors, your friends, your found family?

“Who wants to go and eat because I’m actually starving,” Lando exclaimed as he began walking in the direction of the restaurants, and a few of the drivers tailed behind him as they joined in on the rant about how hungry they were. You watched them with an overwhelming sense of fondness, and when Max reached out his hand for you to take, you gladly accepted it.

Listening to the light-hearted banter and laughs that filled the air with your best friend right next to you, you knew that this was exactly where you belonged. Not in the tiny living room with your father screaming at you, not in the classroom with the kids who didn’t understand what you had been through, not in the bedroom where you cried over your fading memories with your father, but right here – with your favourite people who would always be there to fight your battles with you.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 drivers x reader

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illyrian-dreamer · 8 months

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Our Girl – Part 4

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]

You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.

You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location.

“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?”

“I don't want to risk what I have here.”

“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”

“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”

“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”

A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.

“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”

You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”

“And you me, young spark.”

So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.

————

“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.

“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head.

You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.

“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.

“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.

It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.

You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”

Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.

No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?

You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe.

“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide.

“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”

“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”

“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”

Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought.

“And they are for you, of course.”

You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again.

“For me?”

“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”

“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”

“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm.

Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”

Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”

He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.

You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.

“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked.

“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”

“That’s wonderful,” he smiled.

“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.

Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”

Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.

“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”

“No, no I–”

“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”

You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”

The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him.

You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”

Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign.

“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”

“Of course,” he said softly.

You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you.

“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”

You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod.

“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”

You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.

“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”

Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke.

“You are incredible.”

You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction.

“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”

Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”

Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his.

Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth.

Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way.

Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses.

Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips.

He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”

You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.

“Are you cer–?”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes.

Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint.

Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.

Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure.

“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”

“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air.

Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills.

Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair.

Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.

“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.”

You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.

Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”

You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”

“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.

————

One month later

Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.

Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held.

“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm.

“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”

Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee.

————

The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt.

Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests.

“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”

“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”

You laughed freely. “How is she?”

“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back.

“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies.

Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”

Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.

You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”

“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”

You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”

Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”

You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”

Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort.

The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening.

But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests.

A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida.

“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.

And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any.

That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year.

A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female.

It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes.

Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?

Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.

No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still.

You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.

Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably.

Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours.

Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy.

They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues.

————

Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side.

You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended.

————

“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music.

The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom.

“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”

The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”

It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones.

It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed.

Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze.

There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor.

Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.

So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to.

You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward.

But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him.

“You look well,” he said.

You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left.

“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency.

“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”

Your smile, be it small, was sincere.

“He still… asks about you,” she added.

Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.

“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”

Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”

The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.

————

“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below.

You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest.

“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile.

You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly.

“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”

“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”

“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him.

There was an award silence, unasked questions looming.

“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.

“Very much so.”

“And Tamlin is–”

“A friend,” you said quickly.

“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.

You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good.

“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”

“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth.

It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel.

“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”

Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes.

Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking.

Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.

“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”

Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face.

“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls, and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”

You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”

“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently.

“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”

“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’

“Yes.”

“Do you forgive us?”

Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced.

“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to.

“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”

“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling.

A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples.

“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened.

You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon.

But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath.

Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart.

It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away.

“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance.

“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock.

————

You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room.

Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now.

To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you.

“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd.

“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found.

“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”

“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”

“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room, sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.

You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look.

“I will be, Tam, thank you.”

You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door.

And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision.

————

You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip.

“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again.

“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.

“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared.

Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.

No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise.

“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend.

Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”

“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room.

You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over.

“What are you doing here?” you countered.

Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too.

“Answer me,” you ground out.

Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him.

“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again.

That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you.

You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged.

The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury.

“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers.

“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin.

You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled.

Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”

“And I do not trust you,” you spat back.

“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers.

“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her.

“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court.

Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”

You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”

You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.

And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”

You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin.

“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”

Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant.

“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you.

But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver.

“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.”

What did she mean by that?

“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground.

“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“

“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them.

Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”

You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”

Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”

Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off.

“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”

“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”

You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken.

“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you.

“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”

“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain.

Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built.

“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?

“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”

It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep.

“Please Y/N, come home.”

Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die.

“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt.

Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love.

And you hated it.

“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.

Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood.

“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”

“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…

They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you.

“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.

“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.

“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.

“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.

It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees.

A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you.

You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond.

-------

Part 5>>>

AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!

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fayes-fics · 4 months

Text

Moments: 'Twas The Nights Before Christmas...

Moments Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It’s Christmas, and once again, the Bridgerton clan are gathering at Aubrey Hall to celebrate together. However, all Benedict can think about is conceiving a fifth child... if only he and his wife can get a moment of privacy.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, breeding kink. Fluff & humour, thwarted intimacy, kids being kids, Viscounts being Viscounts.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Sorry this is about 2 weeks late, but here is the latest festive one-shot for Moments. It is set 6 years after the main story/their marriage and is based on an idea from the lovely @colettebronte (Request: Benedict and Reader want some adult alone time but keep getting interrupted/foiled because of holidays, family, and SO MANY KIDS), who also beta read an early version. I hope you all enjoy <3

23rd December, 11:04pm

“Was your evening agreeable, Mrs Bridgerton?” His voice is silky as he trails hot kisses down your throat.

“You know it was,” you reply, hand sinking into his lush hair, directing his lips where you want them as he smirks knowingly against your skin. He always enjoys it when you lead him, pushing into his warm body, clad only in a white ruffled shirt and trousers.

This is you finding a moment of intimacy with your husband as you get ready for bed in your guest room in Aubrey Hall. It’s two days before Christmas, and the entire Bridgerton clan have gathered at the family’s country seat to celebrate the holiday, a large house now packed with many children. You and Benedict are here with your brood of four.

Just as your fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt and his land on the bow of your gown…

“Mummy, I cannot sleep,” a little voice cuts in from across the room.

You twist around to see your youngest, two-year-old Thomas, standing in the doorway, his little fist clinging to the door handle at head height.

“One moment, lovely,” you call, watching him nod drowsily and toddle back into the adjoining nursery.

You bury your forehead into Benedict’s shoulder, knowing the possible romantic interlude is lost but unwilling to admit it out loud.

“Why do you have to be so damn handsome?” you grouse.

You feel his quiet laugh quaking his body as much as you hear it. “Thank you, my love. But that seems a non sequitur to this particular dilemma?”

“Quite the contrary,” you counter, raising your head. “We would not have these offspring interrupting us if I could resist you,” you sigh, shooting him a mock pout.

He breaks into a full belly laugh that creases his whole face. “How about I deal with the children I am responsible for, and you get some well-deserved rest, hmm?” he suggests chivalrously, nuzzling your cheek.

“You know, such wonderous things make me open to persuasion about more children, Mr Bridgerton,” you jest lightheartedly, swatting his bicep playfully.

His responding chuckle is rich. “Why do you think I do it, Mrs Bridgerton?” he hums, his lips grazing your temple, his flirtatious tone causing that flutter low in your belly. He has been quite enthused by the idea of a fifth child for a while now.

“Mummyyyyyy,” Thomas reappears at the door, his tone more whiney this time.

“You get Daddy this time, Thomas,” Benedict responds over your shoulder, releasing his hold on you, walking over to the doorway and hauling his infant son into his arms. “I hope I prove an acceptable substitute; Mummy needs to rest. Now, how about a Christmassy bedtime story…?”

Before he disappears into the nursery, Benedict shoots you a devoted but heated look that makes you want to strip him bare.

—

24th December, 7:14am

“Good morning, beautiful,” Benedict breathes into your ear as you awaken.

Last you remember, when you stirred in the early hours, you were alone in the bed. You had padded to the nursery and clutched your chest at the sight of Benedict, and the little ones all curled up on a mass of pillows and blankets on the fireplace rug, just visible in the ember glow, an open book in his hand. After a few beats of staring at the adorable pile of sleeping Bridgertons, you closed the door quietly and snuck back to bed. He must have awoken at some subsequent point and joined you.

“Good morning,” your reply is scratchy from sleep, burrowing back into your husband's embrace, reluctant to throw off the covers just yet.

“I think I would like to persuade you this morning…” his opening gambit as his hand slides down over your thin silk nightgown, rucking the hem up your thighs.

“To do what?” you obfuscate, an unseen smile toying on your lips. You know precisely what he refers to, but you want to see how he will broach it.

“I do believe you may be amenable to more children, my love,” he rumbles into the nape of your neck, dropping a kiss there as his warm fingertips swirl on your thigh.

“Am I?” you feign ignorance, that smile growing wider, a flush spreading through your being at how your husband can be when babymaking is on the cards. “But this is not a family wedding, and that is your usual milieu,” you tease, flipping over to capture a brief, chaste kiss.

“A family gathering is close enough,” he counters over your lips, then swallows your noise of bemused derision with a passionate kiss that has you arching up and pulling him on top of you as your tongues tangle.

“IS IT CHRISTMAS?!?”

Amelia barges through the nursery door, a ball of enthusiasm and jumping excitement.

“I thought I locked that blasted door...” Benedict grumbles tacitly over your cupid's bow as you giggle.

“Not today, Amelia, that is tomorrow,” you respond placatingly, turning your head to look at her and stroking your husband’s arm as he sighs deeply into your neck, knowing your intimate moment is gone.

Your tiny entertainer climbs onto the bed as your husband rolls away defeated, a triumphant look on her face as she claims a prime spot among her favourite audience, her parents.

Isobel then appears in the nursery doorway holding Thomas’ hand. “It is only fair we get to join too,” she appeals.

“Fine, yes, come join us, my sweet,” Benedict calls genially if a touch reluctant.

“I brought the story, Daddy,” Isobel adds as all three settle between you, handing over the book he had been reading the previous night. “I thought you and Mummy could read the rest to us; we do so need to know how it ends, do we not…?”

Amelia and Thomas nod along, enthused, and you have the creeping suspicion your children have somehow conspired to get their way. Especially when eldest James wanders in and casually perches at the end of the bed, a lopsided smirk identical to Benedict’s as he pointedly gestures for you both to begin reading.

“I do believe we may have been hoodwinked by our children,” you sidebar quietly to your husband as he opens the book to locate where he had left off.

“I suspect so,” he responds sotto voce, but there is such contentment in his tone as he surveys the gaggle of children filling your bed—you just know he could not be any happier about it.

—

24th December, 9:57pm

You are taking some fresh air on the terrace after another busy family day, rounded off with a convivial dinner when strong arms wrap around your middle.

“The children are in bed, sleeping this time. Should we resume our plans?” he rumbles as he pulls you back into his solid frame.

You scoff bemused. “Here on the terrace? Where any of the family could wander out?”

“You didn't seem to mind all those years ago when you were pregnant with Isobel,” he points out, both of your eyes cutting off to the pillar where, indeed, you had taken your husband into your mouth right there after the family Christmas dinner.

“You cannot hold me responsible for my behaviour when I am pregnant; you know how I get,” you shoot back, lacing your fingers with his hand at your waist and swaying gently.

“Oh, I think it simply delightful. Why do you think I want you pregnant again, my love? Hmmm? We could take a walk somewhere. Perhaps the woods?” His voice is low and skitters over your collarbone pitched at that cadence he knows always makes you weak.

“‘Tis late December and close to freezing,” you point out feebly, your reticence ebbing as his warm lips land on your shoulder, right by the neckline of your dress.

“I will keep you warm,” he vows, sucking your skin insistently, a damp heat that invariably ignites a flame in your gut.

“You are so very persuasive, husband,” you mutter, pushing your bottom back against the nascent swelling in his britches and guiding one of his hands from your waist up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

“I do so enjoy persuading you,” he purrs before opening his mouth wider and gently grazing the edge of his teeth over your flesh, your arm reaching up to wrap around his neck, grinding back against him insistently now and sucking his fingertips into your mouth.

“Benedict! I was wonde….” the Viscount’s voice rings out.

Anthony bustles onto the terrace but stops short at the sight of you both in an ardent cinch. You immediately slide away from your husband but know it’s too late, both of your clothing slightly dishevelled and a bloom on the top of your collarbone from your husband’s zealous attentions, your saliva glistening on Benedict's fingers.

“Sorry…”Anthony stumbles, his cheeks heating at the obvious interruption.

“I apologise, my lord,” you lower your head, embarrassed.

“Perhaps it would be wise to keep your… amorous activities… to more private spaces,” he chastises gently, recovering.

“Was that not you and Kate I saw against the stable wall yesterday?” Benedict challenges, wrapping his arm around your waist, defiantly pulling you back into him, his tone full of sibling goading.

Anthony flushes claret red. “Well… I…” You can feel Benedict smirking as his older brother flounders. “That is no matter. But I wish to discuss something with you if you do not mind,” he finishes pointedly with a brusque nod, firmly changing the topic.

Sensing there is something Anthony would like to broach now, you twist your head to whisper to Benedict. “It sounds as if it would be best you do as your brother wishes, my love. We will resume later, I promise,” you pledge, your voice intentionally laden.

“I do believe you are right, as ever,” he concurs reticently, squeezing your waist. “I shall see you anon,” his whisper thrillingly auspicious.

—

25th December, 2:17am

“Do you think the Viscount will mind?” You murmur, your lips on his ear as you rise and fall. Pressing yourself into him as much as possible.

“That we are fucking in his dining room in the dead of night?” Benedict checks, his hands banded around your waist, encouraging your movements. The moonlight streams through the large windows, throwing everything into sharp relief, the room bathed in streaks of light and shadow.

You giggle and gently teeth the shell of his ear, slightly breathy with exertion. “Yes.”

“Yes, I think he will mind,” he chuckles, splaying his large hand wide, hooking his thumb onto your clit even as his fingers crest your hips. It makes you groan loudly, your hardened nipples dragging against his chest, adding to the sensation as you ride his cock. “But I say this is apt payback for his interruption earlier. So make all the noise you want, darling.”

“He can watch for all I care,” you stutter, leaning away from him and grasping the large, sturdy banquet table behind your back, using it as leverage to fuck him harder.

Benedict groans at the idea you would fuck him even with an audience. His eyes are on your face as you look down, watching his solid cock disappear inside you by the pale glow of the room. It’s a sight you always enjoy, feeling him push you open inside as you sink.

“Do you like what you see?” He murmurs his voice buttery, his thumb on your clit circling more insistently now.

You tear your eyes away from the hypnotic sight and raise your head to meet his hooded, amorous gaze. “Always,” you affirm.

It’s a daring thing to do in the early hours of Christmas Day while the rest of the gathered Bridgerton clan sleeps. But after two days of thwarted intimacy, this was almost inevitable.

You had retired as Anthony detained Benedict in his study discussing business matters. However, you awoke thirsty sometime after midnight and came downstairs for a drink. Benedict had followed soon after and found you—sipping a glass of water and staring out across the moonlit grounds.

One kiss led to another and another, and then you were both peeling off nightwear. The look on his face as you pushed him into a dining chair and straddled his lap was priceless. And now here you are. Riding him with your feet hooked onto the crossbar of the chair gives you the leverage you need to go so hard that the sturdy chair squeaks in objection.

He utters words of encouragement as you tighten your arms around him and sit back upright, wanting to feel all his skin against yours.

“What shall we call this child?” he murmurs. “Perhaps Joy as it is Christmas?”

“We cannot conceive a child here!” you protest huskily, even as an excited quiver wracks your frame, so very needy after so many denied attempts at intimacy since you arrived.

“Oh yes, we bloody can,” he growls and surges his hips upwards, his cock grazing so deep you go limp at the sensation of being plundered so thoroughly.

“What if it is a boy?” you gasp as he takes over, his grip on your hips vicelike as he lifts you and then pulls you back down into his lap in forceful strokes.

“Noel, of course,” he chimes, jubilant, not missing a beat with his movements.

You just nod weakly, too drunk on the sensations coursing in your body to disagree. His mouth is back on that same spot he bothered earlier, no doubt leaving a dark mark you already know he won't care for you to conceal. He loves it when you bear his love bites, even in front of his family.

“Unhook your feet,” he mumbles, and as you do so, he stands up, still buried inside you and lays your back upon the table.

Then it's a blur of swallowed moans and dewy skin as he fucks you hard, your nails scraping down his back as his hands band under your shoulders, tugging your whole being down onto his cock relentlessly, the table now squeaking louder than the chair had.

You babble a litany of encouraging words into his hair and hold on tight, your heels digging into his rear, skating the edge of that enthralling abyss that is so addictive.

“Come for me, my love,” he pleads, those fingers back between your bodies, catching your clit. And then you are away, breaking and tumbling over the edge, trying desperately to muffle your ecstatic cries, face buried in his neck as your whole body spasms and bliss radiates out from where you clench hard around his cock.

His movements become erratic, and his grasp on you so tight before he growls and freezes, a groan wracking his body, his seed spilling deep inside as you still float away, writhing under him as he pins you down.

And, a few minutes later, after re-dressing, you both creep back upstairs to your room, giggling and wrapped in each other's arms, grateful it seems no one has stirred (yes, not even a mouse) on this magical night before Christmas.

Some Moments are indeed best uninterrupted.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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little-diable · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 11 - Draco Malfoy

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading them, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 11 🩶 Hands

Warnings: 18+, obviously smut, unprotected piv, oral (f), both are 18+ for the sake of it

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (1.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

“Love? Are you listening?” (Y/n) had to blink a few times, shaking her head to rip herself out of her wandering thoughts, drawing her eyes from Draco’s veiny hands. A soft chuckle left him, hand reaching for her chin to keep her head in place, not giving his girlfriend a chance to move away. “I’ll see you after the game, alright?”

“Mhm, of course, I’ll wait for you.” She shifted her weight, pressing a kiss against Draco’s cold lips before he let go of her, disappearing to join the others. With an almost dreamy sigh leaving her, (y/n) turned away, set on finding her friends before the Quidditch game could start, not wanting to miss a second of it.

Excitement bubbled deep inside of her as her mind used the few moments of silence she was now offered, once again thinking of Draco’s hands, the hands she desperately wanted to feel on her body, wrapped around her throat, no longer able to remember when he had touched her last. It had been too long, too long without his body pressed against hers, too long without hearing the sinful sounds he’d produce as he was buried deep inside of her, fucking (y/n) into oblivion.

But tonight they’d finally get another chance to find solace in one another’s closeness, using the handful of hours where the others would get drunker and drunker, not sparing the two lovers any of their attention.

(Y/n) couldn’t concentrate on her friends, not as the game started, not as the end was near, eyes solely focused on Draco, watching him hold onto his broom, smirking whenever his piercing eyes found (y/n)’s dilated pupils. He was all too aware of the thoughts distracting her, the pictures her mind painted – pictures Draco’s mind also clung to whenever he allowed his thoughts to wander.

“I take it we won’t see you later?” Her friend’s chuckles rang in (y/n)’s ears as she turned towards them with a slight smile, shaking her head without letting one single vowel leave her. Her mind was too occupied with the thought of Draco, thighs clenched together as the first waves of arousal, mixed with anticipation, began to flush through her system. Whatever he was set on doing, she’d allow it all – just for him.

“There you are, I was looking for you.” Draco’s scent clashed against her frame, leaving her mind to race as the mixture of green apples and expensive cologne crawled up her nostrils. His lips had found hers before her reply could leave her, a sight that left their friends laughing, turning away from the lovers to find their way down the hallway, set on getting drunk within the next hour. “Come, let’s go to my room.”

“Don’t you want to celebrate first? You deserve it!” Draco’s piercing eyes found hers before he let his gaze wander down the hallway. With a gasp leaving her, (y/n) was pressed against the nearest wall, held in place by the hand finding her throat, thumb teasing her cold skin.

“Do you want me to go down there? I certainly had other things in mind we’d be doing tonight, and taking it from the way you keep staring at my hands today, I’d say your mind is also focusing on something else.” Draco pressed himself even closer, allowing her to feel the growing bulge of his, making her moan in a desperate need for more.

“Take me to your room.”

……

“Don’t close your eyes, keep on watching, love.” Draco was nestling between her thighs, tongue pressed against her skin, tasting her arousal. Her moans echoed through the room, swallowed by the spell keeping their sounds hidden from people walking past his room, offering them the privacy they were aching for. He pushed her closer and closer to the edge, with one hand taking care of her pulsing bundle of nerves, while the other was placed on her stomach, fingers interlaced with hers.

(Y/n) found herself staring at his hand at any given chance, even as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, making her walls flutter, high on the way Draco was making her feel. She kept choking on his name, unable to let go of the words burning on her tongue, unable to express the way he was making her feel, only able to communicate with her arousal laced sounds.

“My pretty girl, look at you, you’re so needy for me, I could do whatever I want, and you’d still beg me for more, huh?” Draco found pride in the way he seemingly was making her feel, guiding her body like a raft sailing through the uneasy ocean, a raft that would drown without his help.

“Draco,” his name left her like a spell, laced with enough strength to catch his attention, carrying a deeper meaning only he could pick up on. “Fuck me, please, I need to feel you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, naked body moving up her frame, hovering above her with his signature smirk tugging on his lips. Draco caught her lips in a kiss, making her taste herself on his tongue – a distraction from his shifting, positioning himself at her entrance, pushing into her tightness without another warning.

The moan leaving him forced her eyes open once again, staring up at him with awe swimming in her pupils. (Y/n) trembled at the sounds ripping through Draco, sounds that filled the room with every ferocious thrust, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness. Both were set on chasing their highs, not daring to drag this moment out, at least not for the first round of many to come.

No words left Draco as he raised one hand, bringing it up to her mouth, forcing (y/n) to suck on the two fingers he pushed down on her tongue. The sight left Draco groaning in satisfaction, thanking his lucky stars for pushing (y/n) into his life, the one he’d die for, the one he’d chase till the end of their time, if it meant being with her forever.

Her walls fluttered around him whenever he met her swollen spot, once again pushing her closer to the edge, all too aware of her arising high. Draco was set on making her cum, set on making (y/n) scream his name with her arched back and her curled toes. And within the next moments he managed to do so, watching her fall apart beneath him.

Draco’s name left (y/n) as she came, fingernails clawing at his back, leaving scratches that wouldn't fade for days. He kept fucking into her, even as her body began to relax, reaching his own high with a deep growl ripping through him. She watched him cum with hazy eyes, relieving himself on her warm skin, watching his cum paint her skin white.

“I should have picked up on the way you keep staring at my hands a lot earlier.” His whispers left her chuckling, arms finding their way around his neck to pull him in for a kiss, murmuring a soft though teasing “I want to feel them around my throat as I suck you off”, leaving Draco groaning in excitement for their upcoming adventures.

#Draco Malfoy smut #little-diable kinktober23 #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader #harry potter imagine

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morallyinept · 7 months

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I don't rant very often - it's negative energy that I don't want or need in my life - but I feel that as a fan of Pedro Pascal, I'd like to take a moment to highlight what being a fan actually means.

As clearly, some people, some "fans", have demonstrated having a hard time grasping that concept...

Being a fan of Pedro Pascal means I enjoy his career, his portfolio of works.

Sure, I enjoy his physical looks too; the man is certainly as handsome as they come, let's be real here. Yes, I find him attractive.

More importantly, I enjoy what Pedro stands for; his beliefs, his passions. He stands up for injustice, he is an LGBTQIA+ advocate and friend. He is a feminist. He is politcal. He's proud of his heritage.

Is Pedro perfect? Do I believe the sun shines out of his ass? No, he's human and has flaws and off days like the rest of us.

Ain't no-one that is perfect, babe. That's delusion talking if you truly believe that.

I enjoy that Pedro inspires me to be a better human being.

Being a true fan, to me, means only positive things.

It means respect.

It means respecting Pedro's boundaries, be that in person, or online.

It means respecting Pedro's privacy. He has the right, just like any one of us, to a personal life seperate from his career.

Pedro doesn't have to answer to you, me, or anyone else about his private life.

You are not entitled to him, or his time, just because he is a celebrity. (God, I fucking hate that word.) He does not owe you anything, and nor should he be expected to.

Pedro Pascal is a human being.

As a fan of Pedro, I will not write fanfic about him. Only his characters, because his characters are primarily the reason why I admire Pedro. His characters are how I discovered Pedro to begin with.

He can make me laugh, cry, fall in love, wince when he loses an arm, gasp when he double crosses the protagonist. I can survive a fungal apocalypse with his characters by my side.

That's an incredible testament to his talent as an actor that no matter what role he plays, I don't see Pedro on the screen. I only see his characters.

It's his job and he enjoys it. As a fan, I enjoy his craft.

If you do write about Pedro, that's up to you and I am not going to judge, but for me personally, it's a hard no. And I won't be reading any of it either, sorry.

As a fan of Pedro, I can draw the line between fantasy and reality. Meaning, I would never go out of my way to invite, devise, plant myself in deliberately, or exploit a situation where Pedro is in my personal space, or I in his.

Firstly, I'm a realist. And secondly if I ever met the guy, chances are I'd walk right past him and not even notice. (It's happened a lot, not with Pedro but with other actors etc... I live in the capital, there are a lot of them here.)

And thirdly, I am not a stalker.

I would never intentionally track him down in another country whilst he is working or vacationing, and then post about how slighted I am on IG that he told me to politely leave him alone because I was too persistent in getting too close. I would never relocate and uproot my life just to live near him in the hopes we bump into one another and fall desperately in love. 🙄

This is real life people, not a movie.

This kind of behaviour from Pedro's so-called fans is questionable, and frankly concerning to anyone with a sane mind.

I would also never bully or belittle anyone because their fan account is more popular than mine. I would never actively enforce or seek to enforce the deliberate closure of any fan accounts because I am petty or jealous.

Unfortunately this has happened and I am sorry to have heard about those who were affected by it - you did not deserve that.

Sadly, all these things have happened. For real. And it's utterly gross behaviour from, in most cases, fully grown women who are old enough to know better.

We are all here to enjoy and support Pedro, so why is that such a hard concept to grasp? Why does fandom have a toxic corner?

I'll tell you why.

Because thanks to social media, and platforms like Tumblr, it's all too easy to sit faceless behind a keyboard and do and say whatever you want, without any real consequence.

There are always a few bad eggs, in any fandom, who feel they are superior, that they know everything. That because they found a new image or a clip first that they are entitled to police everything. That they are entitled to dictate how fandom should be run.

I've got news for you; you're not.

Fandom is inclusive, sharing, a creative hub for ideas, inspiration. A place to forge friendships, relationships because you have common ground. The coming together of like-minded individuals to celebrate and endorse their admiration for their idol in a safe, non-threatening place.

A place for creativity to flow, for confidence in yourself to grow. To create original stories from canon, to create unique head canon because we don't want these lovable characters to die. To paint amazing pictures. To get excited over Pedro's new projects and discuss your favourites.

That's fandom. That's being a fan.

Being a fan doesn't mean creating, spreading, peddling or posting harmful material that 1) is frankly abhorrently disgusting and is not only insulting to Pedro, but also his family, his friends etc... and 2) could also be potentially damaging to his career.

I am referring to the vile deepfake of Pedro currently doing the rounds now on Tumblr because some idiot thought it was funny to clog up our timelines with it.

I don't want, or need, to see that, thanks.

And whoever created it originally should be fucking ashamed of themselves. I would wholly encourage you to report and block any accounts that have done this.

Imagine how you would feel if your face, your image was used and violated in that way.

You'd be outraged, right? Hurt? Sickened?

This kind of manipulation of AI is exactly what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA are concerned about and were/are striking for.

What Pedro is striking for, and then someone has the gall to pull this sickening stunt.

It's what artists are concerned about. What writers are concerned about. AI wasn't created to be abused in this way.

So, what makes you think that all this behaviour is acceptable to do to a man, who is nothing but generous and kind?

A man who would give you help, no questions asked, if he ran into you, in his own words:

And you have the audacity to call yourselves fans?

A man who, if he knew, what his "fans" do, I'm certain he would be absolutely disgusted and not condone any of it.

☝🏻Let me make it abundantly clear:

If you have looked for, deliberately searched for, posted, jerked off to, liked or shared that vile deepfake clip, video, pic - whatever the fuck it is - in any way then, YOU ARE NO FAN OF PEDRO PASCAL.

And I am certainly no fan of yours.

Do better. Don't be a dick.

#pedro pascal #jett has spoken

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

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hiiii, I'm new here. saw that your reqs r closed but I'd like to share one scenario idea. the choice is yours whether to write it or not.

Daniel (or Carlos) is your bff. You see each other rarely because of his career. It's summer break, he's back home and you've just had your heartbroken by an asshole. You convince you friend group that you need to go out & celebrate Daniel's (or Carlos') comeback in the hope of getting laid. As the night goes on the driver is more n more frustrated with the guys you choose. He get a lil too much to drink n becomes possessive of you, starts touching you intimately and doesn't care about people surrounding. The night ends in a bedroom where he fucks you slow and sensually like he thinks you deserve and none of those jackasses in the club could

hope you've a nice vacation

Peace out ✌🏾

This is for Carlos since Daniel hasn't gotten rid of that moustache yet

Red Flags || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, friends to lovers WC: 2.4k

It hurt a little that the first notification you received that Carlos was back home came from a gossip page you followed. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise when a distance had grown after you started dating Marco, you weren’t sure if Carlos even knew what had happened since the last time you spoke to him. Your families were close, but even your parents were reluctant to speak to anyone about the breach of privacy your ex had caused, the photos he had tried to leak. It had cost a huge sum to keep them from being published and you had been trying to get over the betrayal since.

Recent coping methods included the company of your friends and the string of nightclubs that lined the beachfront.

“I picked up a stray,” Liana called out as she walked into your house without knocking. You could always count on your friend to be up for a party and she had accepted the invite before anyone else. You stuck your head out of the living room where you had been pouring yourself a stiff drink and found her arm curled around the back of Carlos. “A handsome one too.”

You couldn’t believe it had been nearly six months since you last saw him and it looked like he had somehow matured even more. His beard had filled out to cover his entire jaw and his hair was lush and dark.

Excitement filled you and you rushed towards him as he opened his arms with a smile. “Carlito!”

“Bomboncita,” he replied with a laugh, his strong arms tightening around you as he picked you up and twirled in a circle. “Missed you too.”

“Come out with us, let’s celebrate your win!” You didn’t wait for an answer as you rushed back to get your clutch with your ID and cash.

“She just wants to get laid,” Liana whispered to Carlos. “You can help me keep her away from any red flags.”

There was one thing you could always count on and that was Liana to be the mother of the group. More mature than the rest of your friends put together, she always made sure you got home safe. Everyone else lived in the city but the mansion your parents had given you was out on the coast, thankfully she was more than happy to sober drive for you. Unfortunately, the only cars on the driveway were two seater sports cars.

That was how you ended up starting your night sitting on Carlos’ lap.

“This reminds me of old times, bombón,” he murmured as you looped an arm around his neck and held on tight.

“I don’t know how you passed basic maths,” you shot back with a laugh before looking at Liana. “He would always invite more people than we have seats for during the summer break.”

Liana shook her head with a smirk. “Maybe he just liked having you on his lap.”

“What guy wouldn’t,” you joked, well accustomed to the years of teasing over your close friendship with Carlos. But for all the times you sat in this very position, he had never seen you as more than a friend.

“Should we stop her?” Carlos asked, a quiet growl in his words as he watched you dance with another man. Your hips were too enticing, too sexy, and he had to look away to down his drink and quench the sudden thirst he had.

Liana didn’t seem fazed by your ability to hook a man in with a seductive smile and dance with them until Carlos interrupted or they said something that made you push them away.

“No way, she deserves to have some fun after what happened with Marco.”

He placed the empty glass on the bartop and turned his attention to Liana, a frown etched into his forehead. “What happened with Marco?”

“Oh, she should probably be the one to tell you. I thought you knew.”

A woman in a very low cut dress slipped between Liana and Carlos, interrupting their conversation as she placed a hand on his arm. “You’re that driver, right? Want to dance?”

Carlos shook his head with a polite ‘no thanks’ and brushed her hand off his, rubbing the spot on his sleeve to erase the feel of her touch. “What did he do, Lee?”

The tone left no arguing and Liana chewed her lip nervously before giving in and leaning closer so no one overheard.

Rage burned through Carlos in a way he had never felt before. He had felt anger, sure, frustration too, but this was white hot and liquid molten in his veins, deep in his core. He was lucky that Marco wasn’t in the same city or he would surely be finding himself on the wrong side of the law at that moment.

Carlos didn’t even realise he had crossed the room until his fist bunched into the shirt of the man holding you close and he pushed the stranger away, ignoring the protests he made.

“Carlito!” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me.”

Some of the fire eased as your fingers twirled the strands of hair at his nape and his hands came to rest naturally on your hips as he pulled you closer. “We have a lot of catching up to do, bomboncita.”

You looked up as the odd tone cut through your buzz and immediately knew what he knew. His own eyes were a little unfocused and you could smell the whiskey on his breath, not helping him to control his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The air hissed between your teeth as you sucked in a breath and dipped your chin down so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You would have said I told you so.”

His hand slipped away from your body and you missed the heat of it instantly but then it was cradling your throat, his thumb pushing your chin back up and forcing you to connect with his dark irises. “I told you he wasn’t good for you, he wouldn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“Carlito...” It was a familiar argument every time you had a boyfriend. He would always find reasons to dislike them.

“Listen, please, bombón,” he said as he took a step closer so every inch of his body was flush against yours. His lips brushed your cheek as he turned your head away and whispered the secret he had kept all these years. “Let me show you how you should be treated.”

Surprise filled you and you licked your dry lips at the thought of what he was implying. “Here?” you asked breathlessly and his laugh warmed your cheek.

“No, bombón,” he all but purred as he teased the column of your neck with his nose and his hands danced over the curve of your ass. “What I want to do to you…no, not here.”

His eyes narrowed at someone behind you and you turned to see it was someone you had been dancing with earlier. You couldn’t remember his name, or maybe he hadn’t even told you it, either way you had no interest in taking the drink he offered.

“Red flag, mate,” Carlos growled as he pulled you under his arm and put himself between you and the stranger. “Walk away.”

The man wisely walked away and you laughed as you stepped back into Carlos’ arms. He had held you a thousand times over your long friendship but the way he held you now, possessive and jealous, it changed everything. There was no going back to how it used to be.

“I kind of like this new you,” you teased as you danced with him, turning in his arms and rocking your hips in time to the beat. “So commanding, Carlito, why don’t you try it on me?”

His lips cocked up in a smirk that you saw as you peeked over your shoulder and dragged his hands down your body. “Because you’ve never listen to anything I say.”

Turning to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and brushed your lips softly over his before you could change your mind. “Maybe you just never said what I wanted to hear.”

Carlos swallowed as he saw your pupils dilate with lust and the thin material of your dress did little to hide the fact you wore no bra beneath it, your peaked nipples begging him to take them in his mouth. “We need to leave,” he groaned as he squeezed your ass and bit his lip, “before I get us both into a lot of trouble.”

You barely remembered to thank Liana for dropping you off at home. You barely remembered the drive when every ounce of your brain capacity was spent trying to behave yourself while you sat on Carlos’ lap. You tried to keep still on the corners but you felt his hard length beneath you with each turn and squirm.

It seemed to take forever for Liana to finally pull into your driveway and your foot tapped the tile floor impatiently while she drove off and you slapped the button on the wall to close the gates. You didn’t wait to see them close as Carlos’ lips were on yours and his feet led the way blindly through your home.

Your bed was a mess. You hadn’t planned on bringing a stranger back to your place, but Carlos was no stranger, in fact, he knew you better than anyone ever could or would. He smiled knowingly as he laid you down on the sheets, kneeling between your legs as they parted for him.

His shirt had been abandoned somewhere on the stairs, your dress along the hallway, his trousers at the foot of your bed. You had seen him in this state of undress before, when you would sneak out as teenagers and go for midnight swims in the bay, but the moonlight had left the memory faded. In the light of your room, his skin glowed and shadows highlighted the dips of his defined muscles that lined his body. It was like seeing him in colour for the very first time.

“Are you okay, bombón?” he asked as his fingers danced down your legs lightly, tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reached your heels. His thick fingers shouldn’t have been able to remove the delicate clasps so gracefully but he eased each shoe off before massaging the aching soles of your feet. “You look like you are thinking too hard.”

“I am thinking you are going way too slow,” you teased. His thumb hit the right spot in your arch and a moan parted your lips while he chuckled at your reaction.

“I told you, princesa, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Tantilisingly slowly, he massaged his way up your legs, devoting his time to your relaxation until you were putty in his hands. Your legs were trembling in anticipation when his thumbs finally reached the laced edge of your panties and he let out an unsteady breath at the damp patch darkening the material. You lifted your hips for him as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down your legs. “I want to taste you, princesa.”

“Please, Carlos,” you begged as he licked his full lips enticingly.

You recognised the look in his eyes, the one that told you to be patient and the groan that had been building morphed into a gasp when he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his thigh. The pressure was teasing and you rocked your hips wanting more as he blanketed you with his body and sealed his lips around your breast.

“Fuck,” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending bolts of lightning to your core as you tightened your legs around his thigh and combed your fingers into his hair. “Oh god, do that again.”

He was more than happy to follow your command and you felt like your body would ignite beneath him. He sensed the change in your body as your breathing laboured and a sweat broke out across your skin. “Not yet,” he warned as he kissed his way up your neck and captured your lips in a blistering kiss. “I want to taste you when you come, princesa.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you shamelessly rode his thigh, the pressure building. “Then you better hurry up.”

A whimper escaped with the disappearance of his leg but when you opened your eyes you were struck by his dark ones, watching you watch him make his way down your body. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him blow a cold breeze over your skin and you shivered as he warmed it again with his tongue.

“I’m starting to think you get off on teasing me,” you whispered with a strained voice.

“I simply get off on you,” he replied just as quietly.

The questions you had were erased with the leisurely stroke of his tongue, tasting you for the first time. He hummed at the reward he had earned with his teasing and his fingers gripped your thighs tighter as he held you spread open for him to devour.

The room filled with the sweet sounds that clawed from your throat as your head swum and your legs quivered. The salacious song grew louder when Carlos curled one finger into your cunt, then two. He pumped his digits as his tongue circled your clit and together they threw you over the edge and you came with undulating waves that rocked your body against his lips.

“Carlito…” you panted as he lapped at your dripping folds, indulging in the decadence he had been craving for years.

“I love you,” he admitted as he rose above you.

You reached for his face, your thumb tracing the shape of his swollen lips that were still shiny with your arousal. “I love you too.”

“No more red flags,” he said as he lined himself with your entrance. “You’re mine, princesa.”

“I’m yours,” you echoed as you pulled his face to yours and sealed the promise with a kiss.

“You always have been.”

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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lovelytsunoda · 5 months

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sleigh ride // lance stroll

summary: christmas has never been his holiday. but she adores it, and he wants to make this christmas one that she won't forget.

pairing: lance stroll x fiancee!reader

warnings: marriage proposals, fluffy lance, it's super duper cheesy, lance quotes emily henry's "beach read", where can i get a lance

the snow fell down on niagara falls in scattered flurries, the waterfalls the town used as their namesake almost frozen solid in motion as they spilled into lake ontario. the sun was setting, with niagara-on-the-lake doused in an orange-pink glow as the couple ran out of the b'n'b, giggling hand in hand.

"lance, where are we going?" she giggled, mitten-clad hand clutched in her boyfriend's as he pulled her along the snowy sidewalk.

"just trust me, but you'll need to close your eyes." lance stroll insisted, turning to face her, pressing his warm lips to her rapidly cooling forehead. "we're almost there."

"if you say so." she chortled, closing her eyes and following lance as he guided her, gentle flakes falling against her knitted hat.

the breeze was cold, cutting through the many layers that they both wore as lance urged her forwards. her mind was swimming with all the possibilities lance could have come up with, but she couldn't settle on any.

christmas had never been his thing. he was raised jewish, and she had celebrated hannukah with his family before, so why would he celebrate christmas anyways? the answer was simple: because she enjoyed it. he could convince himself to embrace a little more of the christmas spirit than normal when she was around, when she insisted on putting that stunning tree in their living room, or buying elf ears for their dog.

"okay, you can open your eyes now."

she opened her eyes, instantly covering her mouth to stop the delighted scream from coming out and scaring the horses. sitting in front of her were two stunning black mares, towing a snow-white sleigh, decorated with white glitter and snowflakes, a plush throw blanket thrown over the bench in the back.

"lance, this is incredible!"

lance beamed, glowing under the streetlamps as he pulled open the metal gate door. "milady." he giggled, reaching for her gloved hand to help her into the sleigh.

she curled into him on the bench, lance fluffing the blanket out behind and over their bodies before the well-dressed man sat in the driver's seat of the sleigh flashed them a smile, and the horses began their slow trot down the cobblestones.

she slipped her gloves off, taking lance's cold hand in hers as she played with his fingers, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. her breath crystallized in the air, snowflakes falling into the sleigh and promptly melting on the winter mats on the ground.

lance himself was fidgety, the tiffany and co. box burning a hole in the pocket of his parka. he was so anxious about asking that he'd almost done it that morning, over coffee and croissants at breakfast.

but she deserved more than that. she deserved something meaningful, something special (not that there was anything wrong with a little bit of privacy and keeping it lowkey, he just wanted to have a great proposal story to pass down to their kids. after y/n told him that her father proposed to her mother by saying 'we need to talk', he vowed that his proposal would be special).

she turned her head, pressing a frosty kiss to his warm skin. "i love you, lance."

he smiled, burying his nose in the top of her knitted hat. " i love you more, pretty girl. i've got another surprise for you, if you're up for it."

she looked up at him, hair falling in front of her face, skin pink from the cold as she smiled back at him. "what kind of surprise?"

"you'll see. it's just around this corner, love."

the sleigh pulled up to a small gazebo, cords of string lights wrapped around the weathered wooden beams to light up the small space, now that the sun was behind the clouds, the last dregs of daylight hovering in the space between night and day.

lance got to his feet, opening the sleigh gate before the driver could even get down from his perch. with her long fleece scarf hanging down to her knees, she daintily descended from the sleigh, hand in hand with her boyfriend as he led her towards the gazebo.

the snow beneath their feet was dusted with deep purple rose petals, some small tea light candles on the steps. as they got closer to the gazebo, she could see the small lightbox letters, lit up in a warm, soft yellow as they got closer, spelling out two words.

marry me.

"oh, lance." she breathed, at a loss for words as she anxiously wringed her hands.

she could hear the wooden boards creaking behind her as lance sunk down to one knee, reaching into his pocket for the turquoise box. he rested the box on his knee, frozen hands shaking as he pulled it open.

"i really should have thought this through a little better. i'm cold as shit." he giggled nervously. "but i know christmas means a lot to you, and i wanted to make this as special as i could."

she gasped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as she saw the ring: a single princess-cut diamond resting on a silver band, two small pink gemstones holding the center gem in place.

"y/n, i'm head over heels for you, and i always have been. every morning i wake up next to you, and i think, this could all go away. the racing, the money, the fame, all of it. but as long as i had you by my side, i wouldn't care. as long as i had you, i'd be happy. because you make me so happy, y/n. you remind me of all the good in the world, all the reasons to keep going. in the words of emily henry, yes, i've read your romance books, 'when i watch you sleep, i feel overwhelmed that you exist'. man, she got that right. i feel overwhelmed with love, and with care. and some days, i wonder why you chose me when you could have had any man you wanted. y/n y/'l/n. pretty girl. love of my life." lance sniffled, wiping at the tear that was threatening to fall into his stubble. "will you marry me?"

"yes!" she shouted, her voice echoing across the clearing as she started to giggle. "yes, of course i'll marry you." her eyes started to sting, tears pricking the corners of her vision, so overcome with love for man on his knees in front of her.

she sunk to her knees as well, the frost on the gazebo cold against the knees on her jeans. she clasped lance's hands in her own, pulling him in for a gentle kiss before he slipped the ring onto her finger, foreheads resting against each other.

"thank you so much for saying yes. i can't think of a day in the foreseeable future that i don't want to spend with you by my side."

"oh, lance." she laughed through her tears of joy. "don't make me cry."

"i'm not trying to, my love." he laughed, tears pricking at his eyes. "god, i just love you so much."

"i love you more." she laughed, tucking her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before glancing down at the sterling silver on her finger.

lance kissed her hairline, holding her close and breathing in her scent.

if this was every day for the rest of his life, then he was wondering why he'd waited so long to ask.

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @lorarri @httpiastri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @oconso @thatsdemko @silversainz

#lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #the christmas collection 2023 #mini fic

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wttcsms · 1 year

Text

ravenous ; yoichi isagi

pairing yoichi isagi x f!reader word count 1.7k synopsis nothing makes your boyfriend more ravenous than winning a game — fortunately for you, you’re the only one who can satiate him. content contains tiny fascination/emphasis on a sweaty!isagi & his muscles <3, creampie, praise kink (isagi receiving), excessive cum, pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, baby) author's notes i love sweaty isagi & i wanna suck his sweat from his post-game/post-practice towel 😁

You would think that having the spotlight on him — having an entire nation’s eyes all focused on him — would be enough to satisfy your boyfriend’s need to show everyone how he’s the one who dominates above all else.

But there’s something about the way you run up to him after the game, letting out an excited “‘Ichi!” before jumping into his arms, that has his mind now locked on one thing and one thing only: completely devouring you.

His sweet girl, with your legs wrapped around his waist, completely uncaring of the way his whole entire body is currently drenched in sweat after sprinting across the field for ninety minutes. His sweet girl, who’s so proud and happy of his win, of him, that you can barely babble out coherent sentences of praise. You pepper kisses all over his face, wrapping your arms tightly over his neck to do a more stable job of it.

Yoichi’s team has just won the finals, 6-2, and it was Yoichi that scored both the first and last goals. Giggling, you press another kiss to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, ‘Ichi.”

The sight of you, all fresh and clean and melting into his arms, giddy and all too excited to praise him, has him kissing you hard and gripping your waist even tighter. He hears the distinct clicks of cameras going off and the hollers of his teammates, but all he can focus on is savoring the taste of you and your lipgloss. Pressing his forehead against your own, he takes you in.

You’re still smiling at him, laughing gently. “Yoichi, you have to put me down now. We still haven’t decided how we’re going to celebrate!”

The two of you barely stumble through the door and into the privacy of the penthouse he just bought for the two of you before he’s making good on his internal promise of devouring you.

His hands are everywhere, groping and invasive, snatching at the fabric of your clothes and tugging until it gives way to him because whether he’s off the field or not, every obstacle gives way to Yoichi Isagi.

His kisses are hot and hungry, full of longing and the need to show you that he deserves this, deserves you, and everything is moving so fast, you can barely keep up.

“Mh — ‘Ichi! What about the after party?” You manage to gasp out. Your shirt is already off, and he’s quick to make sure that your skirt follows suit.

“We’ll still make it in time.” He grunts out, hindbrain taking over as he pushes you against the door. You let out a little yelp from the sudden pain of your back colliding against it, but he’s easily forgiven when he gets down on his knees to examine you in full.

You think you hear the distinct sound of him taking in a sharp breath. You found the perfect pair of lacy panties in his team’s colors to surprise him for after the game, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks and burning slowly in your tummy as you squirm under his intense gaze.

He presses a kiss to your clit through the thin fabric, and you can’t help but card your fingers through his thick locks of hair. “Yoichi, don’t tease!” Your chastisement sounds more like a whine, and all he does is laugh before licking a stripe on your panties, looking up at you with a near devilish look in his eyes. You can’t look away from your boyfriend, and he maintains eye contact the entire time as he bites down on the waistband of your panties, tugging it off with his teeth alone.

You lift one leg, balancing it on his shoulder — just the slightest bit unsteady because you always feel so weak when Yoichi has you however he wants — allowing yourself to step out of your panties. Before you know what’s happening, Yoichi is descending on your cunt, lapping at your arousal like he’s never going to get the chance to do so again. You grip his hair, mewling from his ministrations, the leg on his shoulder practically locking up.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” His chin is covered in your juices, and you recognize that near-crazed look in his eyes. It’s almost similar to the one he sports on the field, where he’s close to reaching his favorite point in the game.

You’ll be lucky if you’re able to even stand by yourself by the time he’s finished with you.

Standing up and pulling down his soccer shorts and briefs in one go, just barely enough to free his aching cock, he angles it ‘til you can feel the heat of it against your thigh.

“Gotta make it fast, baby.” He mutters, giving you a quick kiss. You can taste the tangy sweetness of yourself still stuck on his lips and it distracts you just enough for the feel of his throbbing length entering you to be a shock.

“Ah! Fuck, Yoichi!” You gasp out, nails immediately digging into his back. He should be thankful his jersey is still on with the pressure you’re digging into his muscles. You can feel your walls tightening up against him; Yoichi is too thick and just too much for you to handle most days. Usually, he has enough kindness in him to have you come apart twice before even thinking about ravishing you, but right now—

—right now, he is all sweat-slicked, hard muscle. An unstoppable force. Just like everything else that crosses Yoichi Isagi’s path, your tight cunt gives way to him. Somehow, deep in your fucked out mind, you knew that you would end up in this position: entirely out of control and subject to any of Yoichi’s whims.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of my pretty girl when I scored the first time. Did you cheer for me, baby?” He’s so close that you can feel his words tickle against your ear, and you whimper, nodding in reply. Of course you would cheer for your boyfriend; you were probably the loudest one cheering.

“Always cheer — ah! — ing f-for you.” You can barely speak. You’ve got your legs wrapped around Yoichi’s slim waist, clinging onto him like he’s your lifeline, and you’ll drown without him. “Love ch-cheering for you!”

“Yeah? You mean that, pretty girl?” Every little ounce of praise you stutter out to him has him pounding into you even harder. He’s working so hard to bring you both to completion that the least you can do is help give him the needed boost he needs to reach his own climax.

“Mhm! You played so well today, ‘Ichi.” Your hands travel downwards, sneaking them under his shirt so you can feel his muscled back without any fabric blocking you. You love the feel of his bare back, sinking your nails to leave a memory of this moment embedded in his skin. He barely registers the pain of it; instead, he’s too focused on continuing to thrust so heavily, so hard into you, that your legs and thighs are screaming from the strain. “I love being fucked by the number one striker in the world.”

“You’re so strong, ‘Ichi.”

You whisper this against his ear, toes practically curling from the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm crashing over you way too soon. You moan but it sounds more like a high-pitched wail; half of it incoherent praise, the other half just disjointed pleas for him to slow down. You can feel the familiar throbbing and swelling of his cock inside of you, preparing to release, and you’re more than ready for it. Your legs hang limply by his side, and it’s only Yoichi that’s keeping you from slipping onto the floor in a wet, sticky mess.

“Gonna — oh fuck! — gonna cum in you, baby.” He’s panting. The exertion from a ninety-minute game and then fucking you boneless right after is taking its toll on your boyfriend’s body. Your hands travel underneath his shirt, slipping away from his muscled back and instead touching him everywhere; his hardened abs, his strong biceps. You can feel his muscles tightening as they work to continue fucking into you, and he’s chasing after his release like a man gone mad.

One, two, three — each thrust is hard and threatens to overstimulate your sensitive walls, but you let him use your body freely because he deserves it. He played so well today, and you wouldn’t want to be devoured whole by anyone else in the world other than Yoichi Isagi, number one striker in the world.

His cum is hot and thick, flooding into you. He’s so deep, you’re certain that he’s spilling it all into your womb. He’s biting down on the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder; the mark near your collarbone will be difficult to cover with the dress you planned to wear to the party, but somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You sigh softly, content to just be held by Isagi as he waits for his cock to finally soften so he can slip out of you.

You’re both a mess. If a stranger saw you out on the street, they would have assumed that it was you running up and down a soccer field. You feel dizzy with pleasure, and you think you hear Isagi chuckle at the sight of you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, setting your body down gently. Standing, as you predicted, is substantially harder now, but you manage to not fall over as he gets down on his knees again.

He helps you back into your panties, and it’s not until he places another kiss to your clit after he pulls them on you that you realize what a mess down there you are.

“Yoichi, wait — I need to get a different pair to wear to the party.”

He looks up at you, grinning like a devil. You can feel his cum seeping out of your cunt, trickling into a tiny puddle inside your panties. They’re damp and sticky and messy, but it’s kind of hot.

“Keep them on for me. Please?” His eyes are so wide and angelic, but that smirk on his face ruins any chance Isagi has for being mistaken for anything other than a monster straight from hell. A whole entire party where you’re reeking of sex, covered in love bites, and the constant threat of his cum staining your thighs and running down your legs?

Well… You suppose you can do it for him. He is a winner tonight, after all.

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littledovesnow · 4 months

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president snow, the prelude

a/n: so there were like 750 words that didn't make it into the final fic for president!coryo, here they are! i wasn't going to publish this, but it sets up a lot of the backstory for future fics i have planned :)

-----

The room was electric as Lucky Flickerman’s face popped up on the TV, ready to announce Panem’s next president.

Your husband, who was freshly twenty-five and had his name on the ballot fo the first time, stood next to you, hand laced in your own.

“You’re a shoo-in, Coryo, I don’t know what they’re even doing counting the votes. Everyone knows you’re going to come out on top. After all, Snow lands on top.”

Coriolanus smiled softly at the sound of his family’s favorite phrase. He knew he had most likely won the election as well, but he wanted to hear the final vote before celebrating anything.

“The results are in,” Lucky Flickerman’s dramatics were dialed to a hundred tonight, as he flicked open an envelope brought to him by a station worker.

“Panem’s next president is,” he trailed off, wanting to build the anticipation.

You could feel the electric in the air, squeezing your husband’s hand as Lucky opened his mouth to continue. “The Capitol’s own Coriolanus Snow!”

Cheers erupted from the Snow’s great room, Coriolanus’ closest family and friends having gathered for the momentous occasion.

Mr. and Mrs. Plinth, who thought of you considered your in-laws, wasted no time in congratulating the young man, their next president. “We always knew you had it in you, Coriolanus. Ever since you and Sejanus first were mentors way back when!”

You and Coriolanus shared a look, neither of you had ever come out with the truth about what happened when Coriolanus was exiled the summer after the 10th Hunger Games.

Putting on a smile, Coriolanus hugged the older woman, and shook hands with his late classmate’s father. “You’ll do this nation proud, boy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Plinth.”

Mrs. Plinth brought her attention to you, the nation’s next First Lady. “You’ll be a splendid First Lady! Oh, the Capitol will be overjoyed to have a young couple at the helm again! Especially once a child is brought up!”

You stopped yourself from frowning, instead giving the woman a soft smile.

Coriolanus watched with a careful eye, not wanting to cause a scene at the woman’s comments. He and you had been trying for a child for a few months, to no avail. One of his first tasks as president would be to find better fertility care, as he was growing worried that each failure was taking a larger toll on you than you let on.

“If you’ll excuse us, I believe I do need to go make a speech.” Coriolanus smiled, tugging you out of the room with a promise to catch up at his inauguration.

You waited until you two were in the privacy of your bedroom before letting any emotions go, inner turmoil over your husband’s victory and sadness over Mrs. Plinth’s comment.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Coriolanus murmured; voice much softer than when he is in public. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

You looked at your husband with tears on deck, stomach rolling over. “She’s true. The Capitol’s going to want us to start a family as soon as possible. I’m going to be seen as a failure if I can’t even get pregnant!”

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you as your emotions crumbled, heat growing in his heart. He wanted to immediately call for her to lose her tongue, with little regard that she was one of the two people who had helped him financially be able to make it to this point in his life.

“We’ll figure it out, my love. I vowed to help you become a mother, and it’s a vow I intend to keep.”

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, earning a tsk from the president-elect. “I just wish it was as easy as It is for everyone else. I deserve this, for God’s sake!”

Coriolanus frowned, hand running up and down your spine. “I know, my love.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he kept his lips closed.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments more, until there was a knock at the door, an Avox opening it once Coriolanus granted permission.

Holding a phone up, the Avox gestured to Coriolanus, who begrudgingly stepped away from you to take the call, which was Lucky Flickerman himself, conducting a phone-style interview live on air.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes, playing into the pizazz and cheer over the phone, stating how excited he was to have this honor as president, all while sitting on the luxurious bed you two shared, hand moving up and down your arm as you curled into his side.

-----

a/n: and there it is folks, basically why i made coriolanus want funding for a fertility clinic :)

#it's giving the lead to good angst in future fics!!!!!!#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games x reader #hunger games tbosas #hunger games imagine

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spliffymae · 1 year

Text

take a hint, kento nanami

⚠️ she/her pronouns, smut, pet names, bathroom sex, kento is a bit freaky, he is also jealous, established relationship, swearing, possessive nanami, kento is a dom if you squint.

kio’s notes - inspired by this.

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

it was disrespectful, to say the least. the way gojo threw himself at you. how he would sit so close to you with his arm thrown over your side of the couch. how every story he told he had to touch your wrist or arm to grab your attention—despite you making eye contact and actively responding to him.

you two, along with all the staff from jujutsu tech were at a get together hosted by satorou, who just wanted to celebrate the end of the school term with his esteemed colleagues.

but he also wanted to use this party as a way to get to know you better. he had gushed to nanami about how pretty the school’s nurse was. how you were too sweet to him when he would come in to get checked after a mission. he would always tease that “your smile’s the only medicine i need.” which he knew was a stupid pick up like, but hoped you would appreciate his obvious corniness.

gojo was smitten with you. if he wasn’t knocking on your door for impromptu lunch dates, he was running by you every and anything that seemed ‘out of place’—a runny nose, pain in the neck, ache in his toes. gojo pulled out all the excuses he could think of to see you.

and nanami absolutely hated it.

i mean, how could he not?

after all, you weren’t gojo’s girlfriend-you were his.

but alas, nanami was private and didn’t want to put his relationship with you out to everyone. he honestly didn’t see a point of it. the relationship you two had didn’t deter you from still treating him and his students after a mission. or stop either of you from obeying the rules.

“y’know, my students would love a health lesson from you, (y/n). it would be ideal to reach them first aid so they can help themselves and each other in the field, no?”

nanami was sitting on one of gojo’s lounge chairs he kept across the couch, legs crossed with a cup of water in his hand. gojo had offered him a much stronger drink, but he declined. he wanted to throw the water in gojo’s face.

“it would be, gojo. i should speak to other teachers as well. maybe they would like lessons too.” you beamed, and nanami felt the left side of his mouth twitch up. of course, you would act as if gojo wasn’t speaking with an alternative meaning.

“perhaps we should meet another time after school to go over what the students should be taught.” he was persistent, god was he persistent.

you nodded, “that would be smart, but i’m in a rush after school so maybe lunch would do? you could come to the office during the break.”

the way gojo’s lips curled into a smirk made nanami want to break the glass over his head. becauese of course he would think you’re alluding to something else, the sleaze he is.

“lunch would be perfect, sweetheart. thank you. a-and the students thank you too.”

you nodded, a small smile across your lips. you could feel nanami’s burning gaze on your face, but you did your best to not look his way.

“could i use your bathroom?” you asked, clearing your throat to rid you of any anxieties. you were feeling hot, whether it be from gojo or nanami you were unsure, but you were in dire need of a reset.

gojo smiled, “yeah um, my toilet down here is broken so just go up the stairs and to the third door on the right. it’s my masters en suite.”

he was sending everyone else to his general upstairs bathroom. but you? no, you deserved the privacy, absent of people rushing you.

you thanked him before getting up and walking away. despite having his blindfold on, nanami could see gojo staring at your ass. how it swayed underneath the maxi dress he warned you not to wear. the one that had an open back and showed your brown skin that seemed to glow under the roof lights of gojo’s house.

he wanted you dressed in a blouse with jeans but nooo, you pouted and complained about the sweltering summer heat and feigned exhaustion.

“i’m also a grown ass woman and if you want any tonight, don’t tell me what i can and can’t wear, kento.” you had sassed, patting his cheek before walking in to your walk-in closet.

“kento, be honest.” gojo started, pulling his colleague out of his deep thought.

“mm?” nanami hummed in response. it was still heavy on his mind, you and gojo. how insufferable it had been to be around you two. sure, you weren’t throwing yourself at gojo right in his face—but you also weren’t completely shutting down his advances.

gojo scooted to the edge of the couch and leaned in to nanami’s space, an indication he didn’t want anyone to hear but nanami himself.

nanami leaned in to listen, “do you think i’d have a fair shot with (y/n).?”

and nanami really wanted to break the glass over his head.

“m’not sure, satorou. do you know if she’s seeing anyone?” he feigned curiosity. because he wasn’t going to just say no. if he did gojo would take immediate offense and demand for nanami to explain himself. and god he just wanted to leave.

“she couldn’t be. no one dating a woman like that wouldn’t be out with her, having her on his arm. he’d be a jackass, if i ever knew one. that type of woman you keep close to fight off the creeps.” gojo leaned back after, putting both his arms over the back of his couch.

nanami didn’t say anything in return, he couldn’t. he felt his jaw clench in anger. “where’d uh, you say that bathroom was again?”

“hm? oh yeah it’s the second door on your left.” gojo didn’t find it odd nanami didn’t answer his question. honestly he knew the type of man his colleague was—stoic, quiet, to himself. he knew half the time he was just responding out of curtesy, not interest.

but oh, if only he responded.

if he had, nanami would not have gone up and left to go upstairs. he wouldn’t have reached upstairs to see the bathroom vacant, but hear a toilet flush. it came from gojo’s room.

inside, in the en suite bathroom, you had flushed down some napkins you used to wipe away the sweat that you had. gojo’s constant flirting was too much for you but coupled with nanami’s look, you were a nervous wreck!

it had been nice to get away from the party and have a bit of peace and quiet.

when you had finished freshening up, you stepped out to find nanami standing in the bedroom, hands in the pocket of his suit pants.

“kento, hey. oh gosh i’m so glad to see you.” you were relieved, the smile in your face proof of that.

“sure you weren’t expecting someone else? satorou, perhaps.” he walked closer to you. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his question.

“what? no. ugh, i wanted that man as far away from me as possible.” you shivered from the memory. you had been sick of gojo’s advances but he seemed to never pick up the hint.

nanami smiled, “good. because watching you two made me want to break my fist across his jaw.” he clenched his jaw again, the sight getting you to bite your lip.

the thought of him jealous was turning you on. how you knew what would follow when you two left the party. nanami jealous was rare. he was secure in himself and your relationship for the most part. but there would always be those days.

days like today.

“wasn’t even paying him any mind, kenny.” you stood on your toes so that you could be at the height to reach his lips, but kento straightened up some. your lips brushed his instead of kissing them.

“what was on your mind then, love?” he took his hand to cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your soft cheek.

“you.” it was quick. it had to be. you had no time to say anything else because nanami picked you up with the quickness and brought you to the bathroom, sitting you on the counter.

it happened in a flash. the way he choked you back against the mirror as he stood between your legs. he didn’t say anything, he just looked at you.

“you wanted me, hm? to do what? fuck you senseless right out there for everyone to see?”

you didn’t say anything. instead you moaned.

“wanted me to hit him? tell him to keep his fucking hands off you?” he leaned in closer, his minty breath hitting your face.

“kento…” you whined, but he didn’t care. hell, you didn’t even care—you didn’t even know what you were whining for him to do. you just needed him.

“she want me to help, hm? c’mon love,” he stroked your neck with his thumb. the sensual touch got a shiver to crawl up your spine.

you pouted, “kento please. i-i didn’t say anything to him.” and shouldn’t you be rewarded for turning down another man’s advances? especially a man as loaded as satorou gojo?…most women would fall to their knees for him at first glance.

nanami smiled, pulling you closer to him but still keeping hold of your neck. “i told you not to wear this thing, didn’t i? got all that asshole’s attention.” he gripped at the fabric of your blue dress. if he could he’d tear it off you. but he would wait until you two were alone to do that.

“i didn’t want it, kento.” god, you were so pouty. your plush brown lips smeared in a pink gloss just begging for his lips to kiss it. he was close enough to smell the peach scent that came from them. his favorite. “only wanted your attention, kenny. jus’ you.”

you were slowly grounding your hips into the counter for some kind of friction against your clit. you needed him to touch you, to mark you. god, if there was ever a time for him to break out of his shell, it would be now.

but you knew kento. he was timid, shy when out in public with you. yes, he had the confidence of a god when up against a curse, but when it came to you, you had him stuck.

or so you thought.

kento had dropped his eyes to see your movements and chuckled, “you’re acting like a bitch in heat. just wanting anything to ease this, huh?” he pushed your legs open and slapped your clothed cunt. you moaned on impact.

“k-ken.” your lips started to quiver. “baby i was good.” you begged but for what? mercy? for him to continue? to stop?

nanami pulled your body to the edge of the counter. he raised your legs to be propped up on the counter, folding you in what would technically be a mating press if your back was flat.

your underwear was on full display. a bright pink contrasting with the dark brown of your thighs. the was a damp spot that he groaned at. it’s like he became primal at the sight.

“keep your hands here.” he instructed yoh to hold your position as he lowered himself to the floor and brought his face to your pussy.

“kento, i don’t think i can be quiet. i think we should—ohhh.” your head flew back against the mirror as he licked a stripe up your pussy. he began to eat you out through your panties, his hand hiking them up so they would rub against your clit.

“oh fuck, ken please!” your grip on your shins tightened, eyes on the blond strands that moved in between your thighs.

nanami was hungry for you. he had watched you in the dress all evening and could practically hear his cock call out for your tight hold. your ass looked phenomenal, your breasts sat pretty, and he wanted to leave his mark on every part of your body.

he pushed your underwear to the side and fought the urge to roll his eyes back at what laid before him. your pussy dripping in your essence, pulsing around nothing in dire need of him—any part of him. his fingers, his tongue, his dick.

“she is so pretty, isn’t she?” he took his finger and traced your bottom set of lips, dipping his finger in only slightly to caress the inside. they would rub your clit a bit before he’d pull out and hold his finger to your mouth. he loved to watch you taste yourself.

and when you accepted his finger into your mouth, swirling the digit around, he wanted to cum in his slacks.

“when we go home, i’m gonna bury my face in this pussy until i get five orgasms outta you. but for now….”

he took his hand away from your mouth and unbuckled his pants. he pulled them and his boxers down to reveal his tall and hard dick, with a tip leaking precum.

“i want satorou to hear everything he can’t have.” he spat in his hand and rubbed himself, before positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushed only the tip in at first. your body tingle at the feeling. his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, making you wetter as he pushed more of himself inside.

“k-kento.” you breathed out, hand coming off your shin to press against his abdomen. it was a failed attempt at stopping him from bottoming out, but you were really not trying to have all your coworkers hear you.

“i mean, imagine his surprise when he sees it’s me who’s making you moan this way. making his little crush cry tears over my cock. what do you think he’ll say, love?” nanami had buried himself within you successfully, his balls now pressed against your ass.

“aht—no no, baby,” nanami tsked at you as he watched your eyes flutter. he gave your cheeks a couple slaps to alert you, “keep those eyes open or i swear i’ll stop.” he was breathless, and a part of you wanted to call his bluff.

“i asked you a question. what do you think satorou would say if he saw us?” he wanted your answer. because he wanted you to think of how embarrassed you would feel. how flustered and hot you would become from one of your coworkers catching you being used as a personal cocksleeve for nanami.

but then you began to think of how hot it would feel to possibly be caught by gojo. he did have a crush on you, that was clear. and he would have to see you on his bathroom counter, folded in half and getting stretched out by someone who wasn’t him.

“did you just clench around me? fuckin’ slut.” nanami hissed and stared at you in disbelief.

“kento please fuck me. make him know i’m yours.” you begged like your life depended on it. and what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t grant your wishes?

his thrusts were slow to start. he focused more so on making you feel all of him instead of delivering fast strokes. it was almost passionate, but there would be a snap of his hips as he’d push back in that would remind you he was going to fuck you. and it was going to leave you either dumb or limping…or both.

when he started to pick up the pace, he put his hand on top of yours, pushing your bottom half more into the counter to get a better angle. “oh, fuck kento!” you cried out.

“have to be louder than that, baby. i need him to hear how loud he’ll never make you.” nanami was aggressive in his thrusts. they were swift, deep, and every other one would have your clit stimulated as it brushed against his trimmed pubes.

“kenny let me touch you, please. i needa feel you, baby please.” you were a teary eyed mess,yearning to feel nanami’s warmth on your body. his hands weren’t enough.

“wan’ kiss me, baby? can’t be satisfied until every part of me is on you?” nanami would normally kiss you right away as you asked. yeah, he was dominant in the bedroom but usually when you asked for a kiss he would be ready to plant one on you instantly. but right now?…oh honey you’d have to work to get those kisses.

“can’t stand seeing him touch you. then talk about you like your some piece of meat.” he fucked into you harder, speaking through gritted teeth. he was pissed at the way gojo responded to his question. how he viewed you as arm candy instead of an individual.

“my beautiful girl. smart and gentle. fucking sweetest pussy i ever had.” he moaned, “he’ll never look at you again without seeing me—without smelling me on you.” his hands came off yours and allowed you to push yourself up by your hands. you were more up straight now, and we’re face to face with your boyfriend, who had his forehead against your own.

“kenny please, m’so close!” you were unapologetically loud. he was snapping into your hips like he hated you, but god did he love you.

he loved the way you put your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer. he loved the way one of your hands gripped his blonde roots every time he stroked in while the other clawed at his shoulder. he loved the way you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

nanami moaned, head falling back as your walls seemed to clench him just right. his left hand flew out and gripped the door frame while his right held your waist.

“fuck!” he groaned. you peppered kisses along his neck for a second before he brought his head down and captured your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“kentoo,” you squealed. “m’right there, babe.” you repeated it over and over.

“so cum pretty. and let me fill you up so you can carry my cum in that leaky pussy. sit next to gojo with me leaking out you.”

you pulled on his tie as you came, your hips rolling to match his thrusts. he came shortly after you, his cum painting your walls and filling you up.

you were a wreck. kento had slid himself out of you to look at the damage he had done. your knotless braids were sweated out, dress wrinkled with stains of yours and kento’s spit, sweat, and juices. he looked ahead in the mirror to see his shirt was also wrinkled, tie pulled loose and hair ruffled.

kento smiled and stuffed himself back in his boxers, quickly tidying himself up. you on the other hand, we’re leaning against the mirror, trying to recover.

“oh no, love, you’re getting some on the counter.” kento taunted as he looked down at the white liquid that seeped out of your pussy, shining against the marble counter. he chuckled to himself as he bent down and pulled your panties back on. he pressed two fingers to your clit, getting you to jolt and hiss.

“c’mon baby, we aren’t done yet.” he helped you come off the counter and stand on your feet. “may not be in trouble, but clearly i got to show you no one else can do what i do.” he kissed your forehead.

you smiled up at him with doe eyes, not a single thought except him behind your orbs. he did as planned, fucking you dumb and also getting you to limp as you walked.

“i love you, kento.” you mumble into his chest, putting your arms around his torso. part was because you wanted him to hug you, the other was because you needed him to help you stand straight.

“i love you too. now c’mon, you need some food in ya.”

it took a lot to surprise gojo. he wasn’t the naive or gullible type, so he often didn’t get tricked into the ruse’s of surprises. but oh, did he get one today.

he had gone upstairs to make sure you were okay. you hadn’t returned and he worried you had gotten mixed up or side tracked with the conversation you guys had. it didn’t phase him that nanami hadn’t returned.

he went upstairs to find the general bathroom in use, but heard what sounded like a cry from his room. he quickly walked over but stopped just as he crossed the threshold. he froze when he heard the most angelic moan leave your lips.

his cock strained in his pants, but the feeling of euphoria was shortly lived as you choked out, “k-kento…m’right there…”

and gojo swore his jaw hit the floor. kento? as in nanami kento?

he heard nanami demand you cum. he heard his teasing about the counter, and you going back out to sit next to gojo with nanami’s cum in between your legs. and he heard you tell nanami you loved him.

gojo was humiliated.

he was confused.

but worst of all, he was hard.

he remained frozen in place as you stepped out the washroom. he could smell the sex you just had. you looked fucked out, but you were glowing. gojo’s cock stirred as your eyes looked at him and you smiled. “gojo-san, thank you for such a great party.” you patted his shoulder as you passed him on your way out with giggled leaving your lips. you were going to grab your belongings and shoes.

nanami came out after you, ears perking up that gojo was in the room. he walked toward his coworker, tucking his shirt back in his pants. “i told you satorou, you should’ve asked her.” he simply shrugged and walked past gojo, who still stood frozen in shock.

nanami was positive gojo got the hint now.

#🌞🍃spliffymae #jjk⋞〈⏣》⋟#nanami x black!reader #nanami kento #kento nanami x black y/n #kento nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #anime x black!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #nanami smut

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maximumkillshot · 6 months

Text

"I Can't Lose You" Part 4

Warnings: Not as bad as the last 2 but here we go! , Aftermath of a miscarriage, some fluff, descriptions of grief due to losing a baby, Crying Lixie, Hannie, and Binnie. Shock, Grief, slight panic, fear of abandonment.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters: OC Doctor Number 2, Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: Okay so this one is different from the other three, we are in a sort of lull in the angst with this one. It's time to be in Bin's head for a bit. Let's just say... this is a "building" chapter. It's time for some fluff as well... IF YOU WANT MORE TELL ME!

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE.

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

PREVIOUSLY:

“And you? How’re you doing?” Bin asked. He knows Han has anxiety, seeing all of this and being as strong as he’s been is not easy.

“I’m… Out of all people, Bin.” Han shook his head. Han has known Chan the longest and he would’ve never expected him to do this.

“I know”

“Please tell me you didn’t hit him.” Han said.

“Nah… She needs me more than I need to beat him to a pulp… I don’t think he’ll be bothering her anymore though.” That’s at least what Bin hopes. Everything is so raw. A little less than 6 hours before this you were at a restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary. Now everything was all wrong, a nightmare incarnate and no one can wake up from reality.

“Hyung… She can’t go back to that house.” Han said as he took a deep breath.

“I know. All I know is that we'll do what she’s comfortable with.”

“Agreed…Bin?” Han asked.

“Yeah?”

“It should’ve been you with her from the beginning.” Han looked to Bin, a look of understanding and empathy for Bin. Han could always see the way Bin looked at you when no one else was looking. Everything you said would be committed to his memory, even the smallest things like which brand of sesame oil you like best for your bulgogi marinade.

“I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t be here for her from now on.”

Han just smiled and both of them went back into the room.

NOW:

Bin POV:

That night was terrible. Every 20 or so minutes, Y/N would twist and turn in pain as the contractions continued to decimate her. After about 5 agonizing hours, they started to subside, now a much duller version of what they once were, at least that’s what she tells me. Felix and Hannie were so strong through it all and helped in any way they could. Feeding her ice chips, holding her hand, even something as simple as massaging her legs helped a great deal. There were no questions, no arguments, and most of all no mention of Chris.

There were some points where she needed all of us. Hannie and I held one hand each, and Felix rubbed her back. When she finally went to bed, well more like collapsed from exhaustion, the sun was out and the clock read 7:00 a.m.

As soon as we were sure she was out cold, that was when we had permission to collapse. First was Felix. I noticed his eyes getting red as he looked at Hannie, and then back to me. "This isn't fair," he petted her leg and tucked her in, trying to comfort her, even though she was completely dead to the world. "She didn't deserve this… they didn't deserve this…" At this point, tears are falling on the blanket freely. All I could do was walk over to him and hug him. I moved us back a little and closed the privacy curtain so that if she did wake up, she couldn't see Lix like this. Felix did his best to cry silently.

He was trying so hard to mute himself as he whispered into my shoulder, "I didn't get to hold the baby, Hyung… we didn't get to spoil the baby, change the baby… look into their eyes, hear them giggle."

I know that feeling. I also wondered what the baby was going to look like. I would’ve bet the baby would’ve had her eyes. What if her quirks were another thing the baby would’ve inherited? Would they giggle at situational humor? Or maybe they would've had her sarcasm? That smile that’d light up a room? That used to light up a room.

I heard Han losing it behind me as well at what Felix was saying.

"S'not fair Hyung… deserved better…both of them did," Felix was doing everything to stay silent, even covering his mouth, trying to smother the sobs before they left his mouth.

"I know… I know" was all I could say. She deserved so much more. She deserved so much more than to be cheated on. She deserved more than to lose her child. She deserves to be pampered, kept safe, loved. The fact that life is this cruel, regardless of the person, that also hit me hard. All she ever wants to do is help. That’s it. So why is she getting punished like this? Why does she have to pay for the sins of her husband? What sense does that make? It doesn’t.

Han’s footsteps caught my attention. As he walked to us I could see in his eyes he was losing it too. His eyes brimming with tears. I could tell, he felt like I did. Helpless. Scared. Broken. He looked at Y/N as he walked towards us. Hannie seems like the type that would cry easily. He’s not. He really only cries when he’s angry, hurt, or frustrated. Otherwise he doesn’t cry in front of people. That’s why he doesn’t watch animated movies with me for the most part. He doesn’t want to cry in front of people. So seeing him like this…

I just opened my arms to him and he walked into them, huddling with Lix, his voice breaking, "There was so much blood, I can't…. She almost died because he was stupid and childish… a fucking coward… we almost lost her… our girl… Bin…" Hannie gripped into my hoodie, trying to ground himself. We always call Y/N our girl. Chris was always working, always distracted, always this or that. It’d take a toll on her. I would tell Chris to stop, to go home, spend time with her. I told him the tracks can wait, that she deserved to have him present for at least an hour or two. He’d always say that he could do ‘better things’ with his time. You’d think that he’d see his own wife as a person that he loves instead of a waste of time, that should’ve been the first red flag right there.

Eventually, Han and I just started leaving his ass at the studio, picking up some food and making a “friend date night” with Y/N. We’d pile up in Han’s room, we’d watch anime, horror movies, or sometimes, just be around her. The first time we did that was a year into the marriage, when we did, she started to tear up. When we asked why she said that she hadn’t seen Chris. Always asleep before he got home and always awake long after he left. Even thinking about it now gives me chills, how could he leave a gem like Y/N at home? Knowing she’s waiting for him. Seeing her face that night squeezed my heart. I could tell that day that Han felt the same way.

After that we always made sure to be home early every Friday and Saturday, and to clear the schedules for the most part on Sundays; Friday was movie night, Saturday was game or anime night, and Sunday was cooking date night, where we picked a recipe and made it together. Eventually Felix and Minho got in on it too, because what’s dinner without dessert and Minho said he wanted to make sure we were doing it correctly. Han and I knew the truth. We love spending time with her. It is that simple.

I felt Han and Lix’s tears soaking through my hoodie. I have never felt this helpless in my life. Y/N almost died in my arms, her baby is gone, Lix is mourning and sobbing on me, now Han is finally releasing some of what he’s feeling. All of these things I can’t control. I can’t help with any of it. The only thing that I can really do is be there for them. Even though, in my eyes, that isn’t a lot.

"I know we almost lost her… but she's here, you see? She's right here." I had them peek through the curtain to see her sleeping form and they both looked at her. "You know what else? A doctor told me that a pregnant woman carries some fetal cells & DNA even after they give birth." I said as both went back to gripping me again behind the curtain.

I continued, "That means that even though the baby didn't make it, that DNA still lives on in her." Just reiterating that fact, I even started crying. When the attending doctor told me that, Lix and Han were sleeping, while Y/N was in the bathroom, with one of the nurses. The doctor came in to check on her and they found me, on the verge of tears, trying to will them away. It was around 4am. The doctor is married to the same doctor that saved her life in the ER.

She was very kind with soft eyes. The doctor knocked on the bathroom door to notify the nurse to take as long as they needed. Then she turned her attention to me. They asked me to follow her and we went into a consolation room.

“The chart says you’re family… But family doesn’t cry like that.” The doctor said as we sat across from each other. “I’m here to listen. Y/N wasn’t the only one who went through a trauma today.”

I couldn’t hold it anymore as I started to sob. Something about the doctor's presence permitted that, “I should’ve protected her from him. Right after they got married he disappeared. He’s my best friend, well was my best friend …” After that I couldn’t stop. I told her how I felt about him, how I felt responsible for it all, how helpless I felt, how it all would’ve been different. I even told her what I almost did to him, how my brain can’t wrap around how she must be feeling, knowing it’d hurt too much. I didn’t leave out one detail as I sobbed.

She held my hand across the table, “You could’ve never predicted this. This is something that is unimaginable. You trusted him with her, and she’s your heart. That in and of itself takes courage, it shows that you truly love her. To put her happiness over everything else. There is a fact that I think is a small consolation, maybe it’ll bring you comfort…”That was when she told me the fact that I just told the boys.

"Binnie?" She asked and immediately I responded as my head snapped to the privacy curtain. I tried to keep my voice as steady as I could make it so that she didn’t get worried needlessly.

"Yes?" I asked as I let Han and Felix go.

"Can I have cuddles, please?" She asked. I immediately took off my hoodie, leaving me in my black sleeveless shirt, and went through the curtain. I saw her face relax when she saw me. It must’ve been scary after everything to wake up alone like that. I also saw her trying to shift in the bed to make room. I went to the other side to help her.

“Don’t worry, let me help you. I got you.” I cooed as I lifted her and helped her make room for me. Within seconds I got in the hospital bed with her.

"How could I say no to cuddles? Come here." I tried to be as gentle as possible with her as I cradled her. I could see in the way her body moves, it’s so sore. It was basically pushing fruitlessly for 5 hours straight after nearly bleeding to death. Her muscles had to be screaming every time she moved, that’s why I helped her do everything, from shifting and turning, to getting her in and out of bed. The only place she won’t let me go with her is the bathroom, which is completely understandable.

I heard her huff in frustration. When I looked at her she was glaring at her IV.

“What is it?” I asked, a little chuckle in my voice. I may or may not have an idea of what it is.

She grumbled, “IV won’t let me wrap around my Dwaekki.” She even crossed her arms as she stared at the offending object. She gets this pout. It’s so cute but she swears she is scary. It’s like seeing a puppy trying to intimidate a Bulldog. It’s not intimidating, it's cute. Even more so when she’s pouting at an inanimate object, if I’m lucky she’ll try bargaining with it.

I laughed at that, “How dare it.” I glared at it too, making her giggle a bit. I got up and repositioned the IV pole, bringing it to behind the bed, giving her more than enough room to move. I glared at it and I said “I don’t want any more trouble from you.” That earned a full on laugh. It wasn’t the same as its normal volume or anything, but it was still more progress. As soon as I laid back down her arm wrapped around me as she sighed with comfort.

She looked up at me and I looked down at her, studying her features. I’ve always cuddled with Y/N. It’s not uncommon for her head to be perched on my chest, but seeing her like this, after what she went through and still is going through is making me think. I’ve never seen anyone as strong, caring, and genuinely good as her.

Being with her is easy, it always has been. When I’m with her it all feels like breathing. She knows what type of person I am and I know what type of person she is. It’s like we balance each other perfectly. She likes comedy and romance movies, I like thriller and horror movies. She likes to learn languages. I hate learning languages, but she makes it fun. It’s like we push each other to be better. She fits perfectly. She molds perfectly to me, her hand fitting perfectly in mine. Every day I shoved all of this away, and every night I dreamed of her. I would hold on to those dreams so tightly. Some dreams are as simple as seeing her smile while I wrap my arms around her waist. Nothing sexual about it, just letting her know that I was behind her. Others we are just existing, laughing. The only real difference was me wearing a matching wedding band to hers. Those hurt. But only for a minute or two.

All of these thoughts are dangerous. That’s what I told myself for years now. The more I see her the more I see those thoughts, not as dangerous, but honest. All of the things that I think about her, it’s not a dramatized version of her. Everything I think is completely possible, how? Because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen her reaction to me and people around me.

Not to mention those eyes I get lost in constantly, the ones that are staring back at me right now. When she looks at me it feels like I am looking into a treasure trove. She is so full of knowledge, tenacity, and love. I could never understand how Chris could have her, and yet he looks to someone lower than her.

Her eyes look different now, inquisitive, making my eyebrows dip momentarily.

"Is it true?" She asked as I held her.

" Is what true?"I asked as I saw Felix and Han pull back the curtain, both a bit more put together. They were both walking to the only two chairs in the room, Felix to the one below the window and Han to the one right next to the bed, on Y/N’s side.

"The DNA? I have my baby's DNA," her voice cracked.

"Yes, it's true," I said as I kissed the crown of her head, "you will always have a piece of your baby with you."

She thought for a few minutes then she started to talk, very calm and very composed.

"I…I'm scared, Binnie." I saw her playing with my shirt. It’s one of those nervous habits she has. Whenever she is nervous, she’ll start playing with the nearest object. I’ve seen her fiddle with glasses, table cloths, and kitchenware. Her favorite is any clothes with texture. When I asked her why she told me that the patterns the stitching makes is just enough texture to help calm her. That is also why she prefers to wear anything with pockets in them, that way she can self soothe when her anxiety kicks up in public.

All of our ears perked up at that one sentence. We are all very much aware that she just went through a nightmare situation. For her to say that something scares her is something that all of us don’t take lightly. I noticed her body tensed up after that. Almost like her internal voice escaped without her permission. She also looked like she didn’t know where to look. Her eyes darted ever so slightly as she spoke. I tried to keep my tone as gentle as possible. I know her nerves are on edge, and honestly, I would’ve been surprised if that wasn't the case.

"Why are you scared? Of what?" I asked. I put my hand over hers to stop her movements, “you can tell me.”

"I can't lose you boys." She started tearing up as her voice started wavering, "I already lost my baby and my husband, I can't lose you guys too." At that point she buried her face in my chest as she shook, tears flowing down.

I thought that I had reached the limit of pieces my heart can break into and yet that one confession turned whatever was left into sand. "What?" I asked, "You think you're going to lose us? What gave you that idea?"

"Your leader is the same man that's been cheating on me. He's also your best friend.” She held me like I’d disappear, like I’d not only leave her side, but go willingly.

"Nonono, he was our best friend." Hannie said as he abandoned his chair, climbing into the bed with Y/N and me, sandwiching her in between us, as gently as possible. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

Felix went to the foot of the bed and he said, "Chris didn't just hurt you. He hurt us by hurting you. We love you so much. For him to disrespect you like that…” Felix is usually a positive person, but his face looked like a cross between hurt, sad, and angry. “ For him to disrespect, humiliate, and degrade you like that? No friend of mine does that. You aren't a friend to me either, you feel like a sister. He hurt my sister, Y/N." His voice started to crack as he said, "he hurt my bubbly, funny, goofy, older sister who would also kill anyone that dared touch me… dare touch any of us. As far as I and everyone else on this team is concerned, he's a co-worker. Nothing more, nothing less." His brows were set at that last sentence, showing her we aren’t going anywhere.

She looked at us and said "I don't want to be the reason why things explode in your group. I don't want to cause trouble," She hid in my chest again, looking so small. I didn’t know how to comfort her in this. My heart just kept breaking and melting at the same time. Even though all of this just happened to her literally hours ago, she was still worried about us?

Han spoke up, "You didn't cause anything. You are doing what you have to do. The only person to blame for all of this is Chris, not you." He rubbed her arm as he spoke.

"Look up, you see Binnie?" He asked.

When she looked up she saw me. She nodded as she clutched onto me when I gave her a little smile.

"Look at your feet... You see Lixie?" He said, and sure enough, when she did Lix was right there. Rubbing her legs gently. She nodded.

"You feel me behind you?" Han completed. And she nodded.

"We are with you, right where we want to be. Hell, Felix ran just to catch Bin before he left, right?". I nodded.“Rain or shine, we are here for you always. Whatever you want to do. Wherever you want to go. We are here."

She started sobbing, clutching onto me as Han said, "We were never going to go anywhere… not without you, okay?"

I cut in with, "And if you don't know where to go or what to do, that's okay too… we'll figure it out together." I looked down at her and I started drying her tears as they fell.

"But what about?" She went to ask.. we all knew what she was talking about. Lix was already ahead of her on that. He dialed a number on his phone and put it on speaker.

A few rings later & someone picked up,

"Finally I was waiting for your call!" I heard Minho on the line.

Felix said, "Hey Hyung".

"How is she? We're all worried sick over here." Minho's voice was crystal clear.

Felix said, "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

I could tell she heard the joy in his voice, "Y/N/N?! Can you hear me, Beautiful?"

Felix laid the phone close to her.

"Y-yeah"

"How're you feeling, gorgeous?"

"Contractions stopped." I saw her wince a little at the mention. The doctors did say that it’ll be a few days until she feels marginally better.

"That's good, Lix was telling me you were in a lot of pain because of them… wish I was there with you." His voice fell a little at those words.

"I'm scared," she said blatantly to Minho. I could see just the thought weighing down on her mind. She seemed like she was trying to prepare for a whole other loss.

"Why, what is it?" He asked, his voice taking a softer approach to her now.

She couldn't say it so Han did, " She's afraid she's going to lose us, Hyung."

I added "She said she's already lost her baby and her husband. She can't take losing us too." I petted her hair back as she started to shake. I hated this, seeing her question everything since mostly everything was ripped out of her hands in the span of hours. Now she is trying to heal but she’s scared to rely on anyone, being vulnerable, all because the two people she trusted with everything were the same ones who stabbed her in the back. The anxiety rolling off of her was dizzying. I did my best to stay calm for her, I’m never leaving her. We aren’t leaving her, ever.

I heard Minho open a car door. "Y/N/N?" He asked as the door slammed.

"Y-yes?" She replied.

"I'm outside the hospital waiting with all the boys until visiting hours start." As soon as Minho said that there was a resounding "Hi Y/N/N!!" Through the phone.

"You will never lose us … Do you hear me?" Minho's voice sounded resolute and final.

“You promise?” She asked weeping, “Because I can’t lose you MinMin… I can’t lose my boys, m’not strong enough.” She pressed herself into me, trying to convince herself that we aren’t going anywhere. Han was rubbing her back while she cried, trying to keep his composure. Lix gave me a tissue for her and I started drying her tears.

I could hear Minho’s voice breaking, "Y/N/N-ie I promise. I want to hold you so bad right now. Just another half an hour. Okay? Then you can see us and we can see you and hug you and hold you… we missed you and we are so worried."

Then Hyunjin's voice rang out, thicker, like he himself started crying, "You deserve so much more than Chris could ever be. You hear me? You deserve to be pampered and cared for. Not taken for granted and lied to. We love you and we'll see you soon, okay?"

I.N piped up with "I can't wait to take you to lunch or dinner if you get out today! Where do you want to go?!"

That whimsical question seemed to make her relax a little as she said, "How about that Ramyeon place we always go to?" She asked,

"Ohh that's a great idea! I'm dying for some Nongshim Shin Ramyun." He sounded so happy.

That half an hour never went by quicker. They stood on the phone as they waited, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. As soon as the clock hit 8:30 am all I could hear was wind…

"We are running to you right now!" Minho said.

I could hear the occasional shove and giggle. A few minutes later there was a stampede of sneakers on the floor and as they walked in Minho said "In 3..2..1.." then he pulled the curtain back and hung up.

**********************************************************************

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mystic-scorpio · 8 months

Text

THINGS I THINK YOU NEED TO HEAR

[ based on your 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 placement]

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

How to find your 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 ?

- Enter your birth data in the link give below:

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♈︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝔸ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊

You're ambitious, both in professional and personal life. You want to win. It's absolutely okay to be aggressive sometimes in order to achieve success. It's OKAY to show some teeth sometimes. You deserve to get what you want, don't be guilty for it!

Leave the guilt for them losers.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♉︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕋𝔸𝕌ℝ𝕌𝕊

You should pamper yourself more often.

No seriously, go enjoy a bubble bath, treat yourself to delicious food, cuddle up in a blanket or have a date night with your boo.

The Taurus in you craves a bit of love, romance and delight, give in to those cravings.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♊︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝔾𝔼𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕀

In your love life, you're looking for your other half but you're also very flirtatious . Make sure you are acting authentically in love.

Gemini is the chattiest zodiac but if your Lilith is in this sign, there's a chance that your hiding something or you're not letting something out.

Let it out!

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♋︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in ℂ𝔸ℕℂ𝔼ℝ

You need to love yourself as much as you love people around you. Don't give all your time, attention and energy to your loved ones, save some for yourself! Trust me, that doesn't make you selfish.

Also I feel like there is a lack of creative expression. I recommend going to your nearest drink and paint classes and let the colours and emotions flow~

I promise it'll be rejuvenating!

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♌︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕃𝔼𝕆

You are braver, stronger and more fabulous than you think you are!

I feel like you've been hated for expressing yourself at one point in your life, be it for gender expression, coming out or just embracing a new sense of style. Those people who gave you a hard time are just jealous, don't let them affect you.

You are fabulous, my love<3

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♍︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕍𝕀ℝ𝔾𝕆

Okay this gon' sound funny but, don't try too hard to be chill.

Yes, I feel like you need a lot of structure and order in your life and somewhere your not doing it just to appear chill, you know?

You NEED to take care of your mental and emotional well being. Procrastinating is just gonna make shit harder.

If you're life requires structure, give it that!

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♎︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕃𝕀𝔹ℝ𝔸

Hey you.

Yes you.

You're worth EVERYTHING, kindly embrace that shit.

Go out there, ask for a raise, go out on a date , demand a glamorous birthday party for yourself. You're totally worth it.

You don't realise how much people around you love you and it's time you start celebrating yourself just as much.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♏︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕊ℂ𝕆ℝℙ𝕀𝕆

The moment you hear "scorpio", you know it gon' be about sex.

But it's kinda different for Lilith in Scorpio.

You need to embrace your true sexuality. Ensure that your getting what you want in bed, whether it be handcuffs and leashes OR complete asexuality.

For you, sexuality= spirituality

Therefore it's not selfish to be honest about your sexual nature. In fact, it's important to BE HONEST about it.

You also need a lot of privacy so allow yourself your secrets.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♐︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝕊𝔸𝔾𝕀𝕋𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕌𝕊

You NEED to keep expanding your knowledge and intellectual exposure, whether it be through a hobby, a kink or by some adventure or travel.

This placement requires that intellectual stimulation that you have to actively provide.

Oh yes, don't be afraid to dominate conversations in a group setting.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♑︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in ℂ𝔸ℙℝ𝕀ℂ𝕆ℝℕ

We all know you like to work hard.

What we don't know is you like to party harder!

So give yourself that stimulation. Get your work done on time and then sit back and ENJOY your life. That way you'll enjoy as well as get everything done! It'll keep you motivated and happy.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♒︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in 𝔸ℚ𝕌𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕌𝕊

You can change the world if you want to.

You just have it in you to fight for humanitarian causes. People will listen to you, you just need to speak up for what you stand for.

There's a chance you're not giving yourself the independence and alone time you deserve. Even in a relationship you might need to set boundaries.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

♓︎ 𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥 in ℙ𝕀𝕊ℂ𝔼𝕊

YOU DONT EVEN REALISE WHAT A BLESSING YOUR CREATIVITY IS?

Seriously, you've been putting your passion projects on halt just to be "responsible". Even when these passions make you happy?

Secondly, you are likely to want a spiritual connection with your romantic partner even if it's casual, so make sure you follow your heart rather than people's expectations on who YOU should date.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

A/N: that's it for this blog, see you in the next!

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latoyalestrange · 1 year

Note

an idea for Sebastian x the MC: MC is on her period and walking with Sebastian when she has a bad cramp, one of those you can’t really ignore and need to sit down for a min and endure the pain. Sebastian’s immediate reaction is thinking she was cursed like Anne because she’s always out fighting goblins. She really doesn’t want to tell him because what teenage girl wants to talk about that with their crush but he’s so worried and won’t drop it. (side note: did teenage boys know about periods in the 1890’s? i deadass have no clue)

omg my mind juices are flowing. what a wonderful idea, anon. thank you for the free labor.

speaking of which, by the time i post this i will most likely have hit 500 followers!! ding ding ding!! why do you guys follow me? i defo do not deserve all the love you guys give me.

another question, how should we celebrate? there are no bad ideas because i have none. anyway, enjoy!

pinky promise

s. sallow x f!reader

summary: normally you keep these things to yourself, or at least to you and your menstruating friends. but one sebastian sees you doubled over in pain, privacy goes out the window. he's so freaked out that you have no choice but to tell him the truth to ease him.

words: 0.6k

warnings: mentions of periods, cramping, angst, hurt/comfort, crying!seb, not edited!

you were just fine moments ago. you were walking with sebastian to the library to study, talking, joking, all of the normal things you would do. he didn't notice you weren't next to him at first. everything was just fine. but suddenly, everything came crashing down when he saw you clutch your side, your face twisting with anguish. he couldn't help it. he immediately saw anne in you, crying out in pain from her curse. everything slowed around him, all he could hear was his own heavy breaths as he stood helplessly in shock. a million thoughts were racing through his mind. he knew you were one to track down the remaining loyalists on your own, but how could he have missed it? you were probably in so much pain but with too much pride to admit it.

most of all, though, he was angry with himself for being unable to protect you. he'd already let it happen to his sister once, he should've taken more precautions. he should've known, he should've stopped it. without wasting another second, he raced to your side, wrapping his arm around you to support you.

"no, no, no, no, no...please don't tell me..." his voice was already breathless and trembling. with your eyes still screwed tightly shut, his words seemed distant, muffled almost. the sharp pain that suddenly surfaced in your abdomen shrouded all your other senses. you couldn't get a word out if you tried, so you just held up your hand, a weak attempt at calming him.

"no, no, i can't--" he didn't even try to hide the tears pooling in his amber eyes. he quickly dropped to his knees in front of you as you knelt over to get a better look at the expression on your face. his hand instinctively cupped your face.

"y/n, please tell me you weren't cursed, please!" he was full-on crying at this point, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks that were now flushed with worry. you were quickly brought back to reality, hearing the pain in his voice. you opened your eyes and instantly felt horrible.

you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as you slowly started to straighten your spine as the cramp faded away. "no, sebastian, i'm fine--"

"no, you're not fine!" he was practically wailing now, gripping onto your robes hopelessly before wrapping his arms around your waist with an almost unbearable grip and hiding his dampened face in your torso. you were fast to rest your hands in his hair, gently patting it to somehow soothe him.

"sebastian, really, i'm okay, i'm just..." you continued running your fingers through his hair as you contemplated the truth. to be frank, this was something you were hoping you didn't have to talk with sebastian about. however, the lingering students in the central hall were already giving the two of you stares, you needed to calm him.

"it's...my time, sebastian." you tried to keep your voice hushed as to not draw more attention, but your wording sent him even further from relaxing.

"your time?!" he shouted incoherently, tears still streaming down his face.

you gasped, realizing your mistake, "no, no! sebastian, it's my time of the month." as if a switch had flipped in his brain, his brow softened immediately as he stared blankly at you.

"oh." he let his arms linger around your waist as he tried slowing his breathing. after a moment, he pulled you closer once more, his cheek flush with your stomach.

"please don't scare me like that again," he mumbled adorably, still holding tightly onto you.

"i--...sure, okay. i'm sorry, sebastian. i didn't mean to scare you, darling." you decided not to argue with him. in that moment, all he needed was love.

"and pinky promise no more ashwinder camps without me," he added, craning his neck to look up at you with puffy eyes. you suppressed a chuckle but still smiled down at him.

"pinky promise."

#sebastian sallow angst #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow headcanon #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy headcannons #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow smut

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

The Missing Co-writer

Synopsis: Harry doesn't feel to hide anymore

CW: Loads of fluff and sliver of a cute little drunkrry.

Series Masterlist | More of my work

Guess what?!

YN got an offer to write along with one of the most genius and know artist of her generation. Harry couldn't be more proud of his fiance!

Well, she took up on the offer just because how much she loved writing music with her Harry. He won Album of the year, for the album they both wrote together. Kinda. But there many songs he wrote with her which his fans love so much. That's what he wants, his fans to enjoy what he makes.

When Jeffery told YN about this offer she contemplated it like every life decision she has to make. Harry on the other hand was just so stubborn on getting her to agree on this because one, she loved to do it the first time around, two, she's got a fucking degree in music, and three, she get paid for it, which she so deserves. She didn't get paid it the first time around, well, she didn't wanted to.

She was there with him at the Grammy's, though she insisted on staying away from the cameras. Harry respected her decision to do so.

They had a great night afterwards at the after party. He introduced YN to all of his closest friends in the industry, the ones he knows would respect his privacy and not talk about this publicly.

But today, he missed her like hell!

He was at the Brit awards. Nominated for four of the categories. But his love was away to work on this new project she seemed so excited for.

He doesn't want to hold her back so, when he told her he was having a great time preparing for the award show... he lied. Whilst she wouldn't be able to make it back home in time, he doesn't want her to be lost and feel guilty for anything. He's sure she'll be watching him on the TV anyway. At the end, he gets to have her all to himself and celebrate all over again for achivement he got for the work they did together.

He asked Gemma to go with him, lile he did last time and she did agree. They were having a good time but he still missed his YN there. All three times he mentioned people who helped him write this album so special to his heart, he contemplated on mentioning her name. Not because he doesn't feel like he should or anything of the stupid reason, just because he wants to keep her protected so badly!

YN already got enough hate, even though people don't know her name, who she is, what she does, what she is like in person. No one deserves that.

Yes, he did kissed Lewis Capaldi drunkenly but he knows YN will be laughing more when they're reunited by in three days.

With a drink in his hand and his phone in the other, he made a treck to the bathroom. He wanted to call her and talk to her. He needed to.

One ring...

Two ring...

Three...

"Hello Hazza!" Her happy voice chirped through the call.

"Hi, baby." Harry smiled with his phone held upto his ear. He could hear the award show playing in the background from her side.

"I am so proud of you, Harry. Three put of four, and you got to kiss Lewis!" She gasped in pure joy. "Not gonna lie, Niall is going to be real mad at you and it did made a tiny bit jealous."

That earned a giggle from him, "I'm sorry about that. I miss you so much, I wish you were here with me baby." His voice wavered as his eyes got teary. "We did this together. For the first time, this is happening to me and couldn't be more proud of us. I wanted to call you up and say how much I love you. I fucking love you so much, YN. Without you this wouldn't have been possible. Thank you for being my muse and my rock throughout these years. I'm gonna need this till my heart stops pumping inside me chest. I know how right of s decision I made by asking you to marry me. I want you to know how I appreciate you for everything you do, even though I don't mention you tonight in any of my speeches. I just want to protect you."

"I know you do love me Harry," YN sighed on the other side. He was sure she's crying too by now, "I know you appreciate me, and you exactly know why. They say 'don't meet your heros', but I'm so fucking glad I did! I wish I was there with you too. You don't have to mention me any of your speeches to tell me how you about us. I'd have it just between you and I."

"I just don't want you to feel left out, my love. Because you're not." Harry sniffled. "Also, I don't want to hide anymore. I want to be able to hold you close and not worry about being photographed, and, and want to kiss you wherever we are. Want to brag about how amazing my love is! I truly do. But I want to protect you, you already get enough slack for choosing to stay by my side."

"I know but we can't control it, can we now?" He could hear her sniffle on the other side, "I want you to do what you want to. Not going to hold you back, we can get through anything and everything together, right?"

"Mhmm." He nodded to himself. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much!" She reciprocated, "now tell me the truth, you're crying because you're drunk right?"

"Hey!" He whined just to hear her soft giggles from the other side, "you're a meanie!"

"No, I'm not!" She teased him, "stay safe Hazza, I'll be home day after tomorrow."

"Mhmm, I'd stay longer and talk to you hut Jeffery is calling me now." He shared. "Maybe I'll skip the party later."

"No, I want you go. Please Harry?" She requested, "I don't want to skip on anything because pf me. You already don't go out when you're home."

"Okay." He sounded. "I love you!"

"I love you more." She chuckled. It was like almost the tenth time he's saying that to her.

"This is not a compitition but," he slurred, "I love you more!"

"Okay, you win."

"See it wasn't that hard to agree, was it?"

"Hmm, I think you would be in trouble as Jeffery is texting me to ask you to get off the call they're about to announce Album of The Year." She shared.

"Fuck! I should go." He sighed.

"Mhmm, I'll see you soon."

"See you baby, be safe okay?"

"You too, Harry." He could hear her smile through the phone, "and no, I wasn't going to admit, it's a fact I love you more. Bye!" And the call went dead before he could argue.

......................................................................

"And the winner is..." Stanley Tucci opened the envelope to announce the winner, "Harry Styles."

Harry was ecstatic. Hugging Gemma and fist bumping everyone on his way to the stage.

"There is literally no one I love more in this world than Stanley Tucci. Thank you very much!" Harry chuckled as he looked at his award and pauses for a moment, "umm... This uhh... This night has been really special to me and I will never forget. Thank you so much for the welcome home. I appreciate so much there is no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so so proud to be an British Artist out there in the world, I'm so proud to be here tonight celebrating British Artists, British Music. Thank you, thank you, I'm going to hand it to Tom and Tyler. Thank you so much for this. I'm so grateful, thank you!"

Harry glanced at his friends who are also his co-writer on the album. But one of them was missing and it was bugging him so much. He took in a deep breath.

"I want to thank my missus, who, who uhh... has been a great support. She wrote this album with us too. I couldn't be more in love with or grateful to a person than I am to you. Thank you, thank you so much for being my muse and my rock through all these years. And... I love you!" He flashed a sheepish smile and blew a little kiss to the crowd before he walked down the stage.

......................................................................

"Harry you did not!" YN exclaimed the first thing after she entered through the door of their flat, dropping her bags on the floor.

"Yes I— owh!" He grabbed onto her tight as she launched on him with a bear hug. "Yes I did baby!"

"You won all four of them!" She celebrated, "I am so fucking happy for you," she placed a smoothering kiss on his mouth, "you deserve every bit of happiness and success out there. I'm so, so, so, so proud of you!"

"Thank you, darling." He chuckled at her excitement as he hugged her again, "I thought you were going to kill me for saying I love you to you on TV!" He pulled away to get another deserving kiss.

In her own words; he deserved every happiness in this world!

"I would be mad if you didn't." She rolled her eyes.

"Did you..." he sighed, "just rolled your eyes at me, baby?"

"Oh come on, I am so proud of you Harry!" She clung onto him like a Koala bear again.

No, she's just that short in front of him.

"I missed you!" He picked her up and waddled his way to the sofas so they can sit and talk.

"I missed you!" She reciprocated. "When did you get home after the after-party?"

"At five in the morning the next day." He smiled sheepishly as he sat both of them down, YN straddling gis lap.

"Look at you!" She playfully punched his arm. "No but seriously Harry, I do think you hold back to go out and have fun with your friends like you used to. You don't have to stay back just because I have the most boring personality ever!"

"Who said you have a boring personality?" He scoffed, "I'd rather stay home with you and teach Milo new trick, make some new recipe and make a disaster of out kitchen or just watch TV, or, wait for it... this one is my favourite: have sex." That earned a laugh from her, "Than go out and drink, torture my kidneys and have a hangover for next three days."

"Okay." She nodded.

"You did not install twitter on your phone again, right?" He asked.

"Nope." She assured him. Because she didn't.

"Good because ee don't even want to go there." He took in a breathe of relief. "We still need to plan more for our wedding though, don't we?"

"Mhmm!" She nodded. "You sure you want to go for The Savoy than your villa in Italy, or better Anne's backyard garden that she offered for us to use?"

"What's wrong with the hotel?"

"Haz, it's very expensive!"

"So is going to be the villa." Was his only argument.

"Well, no, you own it. And it's less expense. You can even make that money back, by putting it on for rent. For maybe a month or so, I'm sure." She suggested.

"What's wrong?" He could just read through her, "you know you can share it with me, baby. Is something bugging you.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I want to be an equal part on this. I'm saving up for when we get our new place. And everything adding up gets very expensive. On my side at least."

"Mm." He sounded and took his time to think.

Look, he does want to be a part this whole planning thing. The only thing he doesn't want disrupted is their wedding. The hotel provides more privacy, he can have his team sign and agreement with them. His mum's backyard garden and the Italian villa can be invaded. In fact his pictures were taken ages ago with a drown in his private property.

"We'll split it." He answered, "I don't want our special day be ruined by people invading our privacy. The villa isn't that... How do I put this? Safe enough for our privacy. I don't want to force you nor do I want to make you feel less. Just chip however much you can or we'll figure something else, yeah?"

"Hmm, I'll think about it." She nodded.

Milo jumped up on the sofa spooking his mother and making his dad laugh, meowing for attention. Harry has been a amazing cat dad since day one!

"Hello my love!" YN cooed and picked the little feline up. He started purring immediately.

"He's very fucking partial!" Harry gasped looking at the kitty. "He never comes upto me like this."

That just made YN laugh.

......................................................................

N O T E :

Pls lemme know how you liked this one.

And if you have any requests for THIS particular couple, I'm taking in requests.

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