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awearywritersworld · 3 months

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do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you

sukuna x reader summary: the higher ups succeed in kidnapping you and sukuna doesn't know if he'll get you back alive. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: fluff and angst. reader is kidnapped and gravely injured. depictions of blood. canon typical violence. "good girl". cursing. ft gojo. aged up!yuuji. fem!reader. not canon compliant. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: and finally folks, we've reached the climax of the series. there will only be one more official chapter after this one, so i hope this lives up to expectations. this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it's certainly better when serving as a culmination to the other chapters. i'm a little nervous posting this, so i'd love to hear your thoughts :) series masterlist // masterlist

brontë

sukuna isn't sure at first why the name is familiar, but he soon realizes that a great many of the books on your shelf are authored by women of that name, including jane eyre.

though he finds your copy of wuthering heights, written by an emily brontë, tucked away in the drawer of your nightstand, the headphones you'd asked him grab lying on top of it.

he pulls the book from its spot with care, as the cover is worn and frayed at the edges. flipping through the pages, there are quite a few quotes underlined and countless scribbles in the margins.

while you'd forced him to read jane eyre, he tucks wuthering heights under his arm of his own volition. he isn't sure if it's because you've kept this one separate from the others, or because it might give him an opportunity to know you better, or because he's positive it will make you happy, but he does it all the same.

when he steps back into the living room, he drops your headphones in your lap and takes the seat beside you, wasting no time in beginning the first chapter.

"what've you got there?" you eventually question, even though you know the answer.

he doesn't spare you a glance when he responds, "a book."

"oh, yeah? what kind of book?"

he elects to ignore you, which only serves to encourage your mischievous tone. "i thought romance novels were beneath you and your refined taste."

finally looking at you, he narrows his eyes at your childish taunt. "do you want me to read it or not?"

"of course—"

"then i suggest you be a good girl and behave yourself."

your mouth snaps shut so abruptly that your teeth click as they meet, something sukuna takes note of with a raised brow. you're thankful when he returns to reading rather than saying anything more.

so without any additional interruptions, he delves into the tragic story of heathcliff and catherine. or more precisely, the pain and destruction that follows it.

the further he reads, the better he discerns that while you seem to have a penchant for the brontë sisters, they seem to have a penchant for writing about men that are wicked and callous.

the very notion makes him chuckle.

maybe it explains why he's sitting here with your feet in his lap, while you try and fail (rather cutely) to stifle your giggles at some stupid youtube video.

"what?" you ask, taking out one of your headphones once you notice he's staring at you with a small smile.

"nothing. just enjoying the story."

the way you beam in response makes his mouth go dry.

"hah! i knew it! you're a romantic at heart."

you make a big show of pressing your hands to your chest and swooning.

"settle down there," he chides, his hand patting your thigh. "you're getting ahead of yourself."

two days later, sukuna feels that something isn't quite right. it's barely perceptible, nothing more than a minute shift in the atmosphere, but it grows more palpable as time stretches on.

yuuji's mission takes him farther from home than usual, to a little town about two hours outside of the city.

the curse he exorcises upon his arrival is much weaker than he's grown accustomed to, probably only a third or fourth grade.

yuuji doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least, he pretends not to. sukuna thinks that's the problem with optimists— they don't take action quickly enough, too busy wasting their time hoping for the best.

when he returns home late that afternoon only to find your apartment door slightly ajar, his hand hesitates before pushing it open.

he discovers that the living room is littered with residuals, but it's eerie how nothing else is out of place... save for you, who is no where to be found.

in a disbelieving panic, he begins checking all the rooms, not hearing sukuna's frantic voice even though it's coming from inside his own head. "she's not here... idiot, she's not here. we have to go. we have to go now."

he eventually finds a note lying on the coffee table, but even this he hardly processes— something about surrendering himself and sukuna to the higher ups at headquarters in exchange for your life.

"listen to me, brat... you're wasting time... idiot!"

"what?" he barks abruptly.

"she isn't far, a couple blocks to the east at most—"

"it doesn't matter. headquarters is to the west. that's where we need to go."

"have you failed to comprehend a single thing i've said about the higher ups?" sukuna sneers. "they'll kill us, then kill her too. she knows too much about jujutsu society. they won't let her live, and that's if she's not... if she isn't already..."

he can't get the word out.

"no... no, they wouldn't..."

"now is not the time for your blind faith in the integrity of others." sukuna tries again and again to assume control of his vessel, and while the force behind it makes yuuji's head pound, it's no use. "for fuck's sake— please, yuuji!"

it's the first time he's heard the curse occupying his body say his actual name or use the word please, and in a strange way, it seems to ground him to some degree.

itadori yuuji has always been uncannily fast, but as soon as he makes his way out onto the street, it's like his feet aren't even touching the pavement. he appears as a blur to the people he passes by and it happens so briefly that they more than likely disregard it as a trick of the light.

the ruby decorating your neck leads them right to you, a low hum of frequency that only sukuna can hear.

yuuji comes to a stop in front of an old warehouse building. there are several wooden boards nailed across the main entrance, which splinter and fall to the earth under the impact of his impatient fist.

although the people down the hall quiet themselves upon hearing the crash, he can still sense their energy. he just can't seem to pick up on yours.

maybe sukuna is wrong? maybe you're not here after all.

"no," comes sukuna's voice, cold and hard. "she's here."

he makes his way down the stretch of hallway and to an open door where he stops, both of his feet planting firmly on the ground. everything appears to be frozen as he stares at ten sorcerers who quietly stare back.

it's clear they were not expecting yuuji, but he knows the higher ups assigned so many sorcerers just in case he did somehow figure out where they brought you.

he recognizes many of their faces and even knows some of their names, their familiarity no doubt intended to discourage him from engaging them.

after a few moments, yuuji's eyes land on your figure— motionless on the floor.

he has to admit, the higher up have put together a fairly sound plan. it's just that there's one small detail they failed to account for.

a curious and constraining sensation erupts from the center of his chest, and yuuji doesn't quite understand what's happening until he registers he's no longer the one in control of his body.

the king of curses remains completely still as he studies you from afar with a slight tilt of his head, his mind refusing to believe the scene right before his eyes.

when the gravity of the situation finally settles in, a gut churning agony blossoms in his stomach and bleeds into every part of his body. every bone. every pore. every vein.

the entirety of him burns, both inside and out.

the air in the room is heavy, overburdened with hostility and raw power. it makes the sorcerers' knees buckle and they nearly collapse beneath the immense pressure.

as sukuna takes a step toward the nearest person, the edges of his vision turn white.

he moves with deadly precision, at a speed which very few people on earth could even begin to comprehend.

it's a joke how quickly it's all over.

some of them are in pieces. others have exploded into nothingness. a few are burnt to ash.

in his haste, sukuna nearly misses the final sorcerer. he's probably the youngest of them all, cowering in the corner of the room. his eyes are wide with horror and his body shakes with fear.

"p-please, spare m-me. i didn't touch her," he sputters out.

the laugh that follows is utterly humorless. "do you actually believe that makes a difference to me?"

"i told t-them not to hurt her! i swear. that's how i got this." he points to his bottom lip, busted open and swollen. "she even told me she was sorry that i got hurt... that i didn't have to defend her."

this gives sukuna pause and his jaw clenches as he considers what you would tell him right now were you conscious.

so even as every fiber of his being screams at him to end the sorcerer's miserable, pathetic life... he restrains himself and pins him to the wall instead, pressing a forearm to his throat.

"go back to the higher ups. go and tell them that if anyone lays a hand on her ever again, i will ruin them," he spits, venom lacing each word. "i'll slaughter every last one of them. i'll level their homes. i'll take everything from them. tell them this is a promise they shouldn't take lightly."

when sukuna takes a step back, the young sorcerer crumbles to the ground. "i- i- i will."

"then get out of my sight," he growls.

returning his attention to you, his demeanor shifts in every respect.

you're going to be okay. you're going to wake up. he's going to take you home and it will be like none of this ever happened.

but when he falls to your side, his knees meeting the ground so brutally that it cracks beneath his weight, his conviction falters.

your blood is spilt onto the concrete. your skin is cold. he can't tell if you're breathing. he can't feel your heartbeat.

he determines that the gash across your side deserves his attention first and his hands tremble as they move to cover it.

he puts every ounce of power he has into his reverse cursed technique, but your eyes don't flutter and your chest doesn't rise nor fall.

his palms stain crimson, and while blood has never bothered him before, the fact that it's yours forces the bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat.

and his face is wet.

why is his face wet?

why are his lips trembling?

why is his vision blurred?

he wipes at his cheeks, leaving a trail of your blood across his face in the process.

"no," he chokes out. "please, don't do this. you're fine. please, you have to be fine. please."

the king of curses begs, but he has no idea who his desperation is directed toward. maybe it's you. maybe it's the gods. maybe it's some entity that's unknowable to him.

hell, maybe it's just whoever will listen to him. there has to be someone out there, right? something.

unbeknownst to him, and poetic in sorrowful sort of a way, his next pleas are reminiscent of heathcliff's after he learns of catherine's death.

"be with me always"

"stay with me, angel. please don't go."

"take any form"

"hate me for this if you want, for being the reason you're in this mess. you can't hate me anymore than i already hate myself."

"drive me mad"

"i'll read every single stupid romance novel on your bookshelf. i promise i'll play all of your ridiculous card games."

"only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you!"

"just don't leave me here without you. i don't want to be here without you.

"oh, god! it is unutterable!"

"please," he whimpers.

"i cannot live without my life!"

"you're everything. you are everything. you can't leave me with nothing."

"i cannot live without my soul!"

"i love you," sukuna laments. "i love you."

he doesn't even comprehend the words that have been tumbling past his lips, because they're coming from a part of himself that he long believed to be dead and buried.

it's the part of him that can feel suffering and regret and loss and love.

it's the part of him that you've been painstakingly unearthing whenever you send a smile his way. whenever you curl into his side. whenever you press your lips to his.

and he's so undeserving of it each and every time. he's known that. god, has he known that.

he thinks bitterly of the night you'd walked to the park together hand in hand— when you told him the universe had sent you to knock him down a peg.

turns out you were wrong.

the universe gave you to him, but only so it could take you away too.

and it won't just knock him down a peg. it will fucking destroy him. it will completely and irrevocably destroy him.

this is what he does deserve.

how is it that you can be both his salvation and his undoing?

"i love you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

it's ironic that the three words he's never once said in his entire life are the only ones he can manage in this moment.

he hears a quiet sigh escape your lips, but he knows that it's just his imagination— nothing more than the universe playing its final sick joke.

the sun is out and its rays are peeking through the window of your bedroom. sukuna thinks it's despicable.

everything should be cold and dark today.

you're lying in bed half dead and the only thing keeping sukuna's sanity intact is the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

he should go to jujutsu headquarters and deliver a slow, painful death to every single person involved in yesterday's events. then he should turn their headquarters to ash and stand there watching until the wind blows every last bit away.

but more than that, he should be by your side, so that's where he's remained.

it's been nearly a day and you still haven't woken up, so he's taken to performing reverse cursed technique on you every few hours.

yuuji had shoko come by last night and she assured him your body just needs time, but sukuna doesn't intend on taking any chances. aside from the brat, there isn't a single sorcerer he trusts.

so naturally when gojo teleports directly in the middle of your living room unannounced, sukuna moves swiftly to his feet and blocks the doorway to your room.

gojo regards him nonchalantly, hiding his surprise that yuuji is not the one to greet him. "what are you doing... out and about?"

"that's none of your concern."

"right. well, i came to check in."

"that's not necessary."

the two men watch one another carefully, before gojo eventually chuckles. "god, you actually care about her. i guess the whole soul thing should have been proof enough, but i couldn't bring myself to really believe it until now."

sukuna doesn't respond, so the other man continues. "you should know that the threat to her has been... dealt with."

"that so?" sukuna asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mhmmm. word of this spread to the three clans and they agreed civilians have no place in jujutsu politics if it can be helped. not to mention your little... messenger. it all caused quite the ruckus for the higher ups."

"i don't think ruckus is enough to deter them." his tone makes it clear that he feels gojo is wasting his time.

"this isn't the heian era anymore, you know. the higher ups may still be the figureheads of jujutsu society, but they have little say when all three clans concur on a matter." receiving nothing more than a blank stare, he adds, "besides, i'm rather fond of her myself, so i may or may not have made certain threats of my own."

sukuna's eye twitches. "anything else you feel compelled to share before you leave?"

"can i at least see her before i go?" gojo questions, peering over sukuna's shoulder.

"if you do not value your life, i welcome you to try."

a sly grin breaks out on gojo's face.

"eager to make good on your promise of killing me from all those years ago?" he pauses, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if he's pondering something of great importance. "as much as i'd love to see you try, we shouldn't wake our precious sleeping beauty before she's ready, so maybe another time."

with that, he disappears, leaving a very irritated sukuna in his wake.

"our," he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. "that unbearable imbecile."

when he turns on his heel, however, the malicious look is immediately wiped from his face because you're awake.

you're awake and peering at him from behind heavy lids.

"hey," you greet in a small voice.

his eyes grow impossibly soft and he sits on the bed beside you, his hand moving to caress your cheek. your skin is warm again.

"hey, angel."

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#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna angst

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reiderwriter · 6 months

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May I please request a fic where Spencer finds out about the new female team member’s love for gaming by seeing her play her Nintendo Switch on the jet? Bonus if he sees her struggling to beat something like Five Nights At Freddy’s or Catherine Full Body and he helps her out much to her shock

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I'm not much of a gamer myself, so it took a while to figure out what I should write. I went with FNAF because I’ve literally been held hostage by that Josh Hutcherson Whistle tiktok for the last seven days, so I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: mild spoilers for FNAF 4 Night 8, fluff.

“What is that?” Spencer asked casually, glancing over at the screen from his seat on the jet.

For some reason, despite facing monsters in real life, you'd been addicted to horror games in your downtime. Apparently, it was better for you if the crazy murderers were actually sentient animatronics possessed by the ghost of murdered children.

“It's a Nintendo Switch. It's a video game.” You replied without looking at him, heart racing from the pressure of the level.

“Like pacman?”

“Yes, Spencer, like pacman.” You sighed in frustration, trying to avoid running into the animatronics running around the building your character was supposed to be guarding.

“Then why is the screen black,” he said, just as Mad Freddy snuck up on you in the game and you lost the level. You sighed, head falling back in defeat.

You'd been stuck on night 8 of FNAF 4 for at least a week now, but who could blame you? You had to play completely in the dark, and you were dealing with some of the worst animatronics, too.

You'd been so happy to discover 20202020 mode, and you'd passed night 7 easy enough and they were honestly pretty similar, but one week into consistently playing it in all of your downtime, and you were seconds away from sacrificing your switch to the animatronic gods.

“It's supposed to make it more challenging. I think it's just impossible.” You threw the switch down, making sure all your progress (or lack of it) was saved.

“Can I try?” Spencer curiously asked from beside you, smiling at the soft pout on your face.

“Are you sure? It's not exactly your style…?”

“Humor me.”

You passed him the switch, showed him the controls, and snuggled back against your seat, eager to catch some sleep now suddenly. You had just closed a long case, and you may as well try to sleep now before the pile of paperwork made that impossible.

If it was easy to fall asleep, it was impossible to drag yourself from sleep.

You'd felt the familiar movements of the jet jostle you side to side, but you also felt a warmth next to your body that was too comfortable to convince you to even crack an eye open.

After a week on the case, plus a week trying to solve the game level, you really hadn't slept soundly in some time.

So when someone shook your shoulders, you simply ignored the motion again and cuddled closer to the arm and chest you'd wrapped yourself around.

Until you realised that the arm and chest had to belong to a person. And the only person that could be was Spencer Reid.

“It's okay, I'll wake her up, you guys go ahead.” You heard him say, with a few muffled voices agreeing.

You decided to just play dead as you heard the shuffling sounds of the rest of the team climbing off the jet. At which point you just happened to stretch yourself naturally out of your peaceful sleep.

“Spencer?” You yawned, trying to sound confused. “Did we arrive?”

You disentangled yourself from his body, realising that in facing him, your faces had hovered centimetres apart from one another. His breathing was calm, but you could feel his heart beating hard as you pulled away from him, mind racing at the not so innocent touches he traced down your skin as he let you go.

“Yeah, the team got off already. We should probably head out, too, before the cabin crew comes through to reset.”

You stood yourself up and grabbed your things, including your switch, now packed carefully into its carry case.

“So, you gave up as well, huh?” You laughed at the obvious sign of Spencer's white flag.

“What do you mean?” He said, grabbing his own bags now he was free from your grasp.

“The game? It was hard, right?” You smiled at him as he collected himself and turned back to you, pausing slightly.

“I finished the game.”

“What?” You whirled around on him, voice breaking through your lips before you could control it.

“I finished the game. I was just watching the credits when you… made yourself comfortable.”

You felt embarrassment spread through your body but pushed it down to make space for the sheer disbelief that known technophobe Spencer Reid had completed the video game you'd been struggling with for the past week.

“How?” was the only word that would leave your mouth as you froze in the aisle.

“There was a pattern to it. I realised if I went between the left door, the bed, and the right door, the fox thing-”

“Nightmare Foxy.”

“Right, Nightmare Foxy wouldn't come out of the closet. And then the others wouldn't pop up until 4am, and after that, it was pretty easy to get through.”

“Oh my god.” You stood in awe, blocking the aisle and forcing Spencer to stop next to you as well.

“You have to show me how. Please, Spencer, I need to see it.”

You hadn't realised your hand had crept up to grab his sleeve, pushing closer to him slightly.

“Are you free this weekend?” He whispered back at you as you realised that the space between you was miniscule. You could only nod your confirmation enthusiastically.

“Then it's a date.” He whispered again, pushing past you and letting himself off the jet.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #fnaf

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bosbas · 1 month

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Chapter 3: they say looks can kill and I might try

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in French, Colin being mean, reader being mean, perhaps some historical inaccuracies (idk if the royal opera house was actually called that in 1816 IM SORRY)

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

April 23, 1816 – It seems Lady Violet Bridgerton and Lady Catherine Montclair have become fast friends. This author, ever intrigued by the comings and goings of the Montclairs in London's high society, cannot help but ponder: Is there a union on the horizon? Does the blossoming friendship between Lady Montclair and Lady Bridgerton hint at an impending marriage, or are they simply two kindred spirits enjoying each other's company, with no matrimonial plans for their children?

Your mother had taken quite a liking to Lady Bridgerton. In truth, you mostly didn’t mind. Contrary to what Lady Whistledown was telling the ton, your mother wasn’t particularly interested in marrying you off to a Bridgerton. In fact, the only time she wasn’t trying to marry you off was when she was with Lady Bridgerton. It was a breath of fresh air, to say the least.

Benedict was lovely, as was Eloise. The trouble, as always, came in the form of Colin Bridgerton. Typical.

Since your mother’s newfound friendship with Lady Violet, you found yourself thrust into Colin Bridgerton's company at every event. It was ghastly. Even being near him had your heart rate speeding up. You had to make a conscious effort not to grind your teeth and clench your fists every time he spoke.

You weren’t quite sure when it happened, but it seemed that Colin Bridgerton had abandoned all pretense of gentlemanly conduct and settled for matching your disdain. You couldn’t say you were surprised. It was exactly what you expected of him, after all.

Tonight had been particularly taxing. Anthony Bridgerton was hosting a ball, which meant that your mother had strong-armed you into spending the entire night with the Bridgertons—when you weren’t with Lord Barlow, that is. You hadn’t minded much at the beginning, enjoying the respite from your mother practically auctioning you off for a dance now that you were courting the Duke.

Yet, Colin seemed to have made it his singular mission to vex you constantly. Sly glances and biting remarks had escalated to a glass of water “inexplicably” pouring down the front of your dress. Thankfully, the dark blue of your gown successfully camouflaged any stain, but your patience was wearing perilously thin.

To be fair, you had insulted his intelligence, unprovoked, about three or four times before he spilled the glass of water on you. And not-so-subtly called him a “sale enfoiré” (dirty bastard). But still, he was infuriating, and he had been equally as bad all night.

Currently, you were standing side by side, a simmering tension palpable in the air between you. A fragile truce had been brokered by the stern words of your elder sister, Charlotte, but the desire to spark an argument with Colin was ever-present.

He crossed his arms, and you couldn’t help but be acutely aware of his shoulder touching yours. The closeness of his touch sent a jolt through you, an unwelcome sensation that only added to your mounting frustration.

Colin Bridgerton was not the sort of man you liked, let alone respected, you reminded yourself. You were not particularly interested in engaging with a man who viewed you as merely a dowry with a womb.

And yet, you couldn’t help yourself. At every chance you got, you couldn’t resist the urge to show him just how much you disliked him. You might have been embarrassed by your childish actions if he weren’t also an instigator.

“You’ve only danced with the Duke once tonight, Lady Montclair” he commented, his tone dripping with a hint of mockery as he kept his gaze fixed elsewhere. “Has he bored you already with his talk about his family’s estate? Or is that exactly what you’re after?”

You held back a groan. He was particularly relentless tonight, wasn’t he?

“I can assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, the Duke and I engage in far more stimulating conversations than you might imagine,” you retorted, a flash of defiance in your eyes. “Certainly more engaging than your exchange with Miss Abernathy, I'd venture to say. Although her substantial dowry must have held some interest for you, I presume?”

“We were talking about my travels to India, if you must know,” he drawled, the challenge evident in his tone. “Not that you and the Duke would have much to speak about in that regard, given he’s never been.”

You scoffed. “I should hope I would be able to talk about it, Mr. Bridgerton; I spent three years living in India.”

Colin huffed, annoyed that he had forgotten that small detail. It took everything in you not to turn and face him right then, wanting to bask in the fact that you had bested him yet again.

“Well, I fear the Duke would have been bored regardless. Look at him now, speaking with Miss Barrington. He certainly did not look that entertained when speaking with you.”

You glanced over at Lord Barlow. It was true, he was smiling at something Miss Barrington had said, but it wasn’t like he never smiled around you. You knew Colin was just winding you up, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I see he's asked her to dance. Do you think he'll ask you for another, or has he had enough of you for tonight?”

Your fists clenched. The snide looks and snarky comments and even the water on your dress you could deal with. But you knew that you had to marry to secure your future, and Colin's thinly veiled jabs struck a nerve.

You turned to look at him slightly, finding his gaze still on your suitor across the ballroom. Perfect. You shifted closer to him, momentarily taken aback by the intense sound of your heartbeat in your ears. But you ignored it, much like you ignored his sharp inhale as you moved closer.

With a deliberate motion, you lifted your foot and brought it down on top of his with as much strength as you could muster. The impact was immediate, a sharp jolt of pain shooting through Colin as he fought to stifle a cry.

He staggered forward, lifting his injured foot off the ground and feeling the throbbing of his toes he knew would last for days. Colin’s eyes watered with the effort of standing up, and you could do nothing but smile.

Oh, how he wished to wipe that triumphant expression from your face. He probably deserved your wrath at this point, given his behavior, but dear Lord did you have to make it so painful?

Gingerly, he lowered his injured foot to the ground, his breath catching in a subdued groan as he sought to regain his balance amidst the lingering ache.

“Lady Montclair, I’m sure you’ll excuse me,” Colin managed through gritted teeth, the pain in his foot now a throbbing ache. “I believe I must go tend to my foot, which has been inexplicably injured,” he finished weakly.

You cooed at him, mock concern in your voice. “Oh, Mr. Bridgerton, how dreadful! Pray do take care of yourself. We wouldn't want any lasting damage, now would we?”

He shot a glower in your direction, his eyes practically sparking with irritation as he searched for the nearest exit so he could return to the comfort of the Bridgerton carriage.

“If my toes are broken you’ll never hear the end of it,” he threatened.

“Let us all hope the injury is not so grave, then,” you replied smugly, not the slightest bit bothered that he was in pain.

And as much as you were infuriating and annoying and even slightly murderous, Colin found himself sad to be leaving your side. Even as he limped toward the exit, he missed your presence beside him. He probably just enjoyed a rivalry with someone who wasn’t related to him, he reasoned. It kept his mind sharp and his days entertaining. No other reason.

---

May 2, 1816 – Though the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and Countess Catherine Montclair remain friends, the hope for a union between the two families might be fading, if it was ever present. Lady Y/N Montclair has been spending quite a bit of time with Lord Arthur Barlow, and even this author knows a Duke is a better match than a Bridgerton, highly esteemed as their family might be.

Today was one of the rare occasions where you could simply enjoy yourself. The Duke and Duchess of Hastings were hosting an intimate garden party, and Lord Barlow was not in attendance. Although you were a tad disappointed, given that the two of you got along quite well, it did mean you could take a break from the pursuit of a husband for one afternoon.

Which is why you were sitting next to Eloise, gently rocking Caroline Basset to sleep as you discussed your marriage prospects.

“Your parents really delayed your coming out so you could marry an Englishman?” Eloise asked, shocked. “What could compel them to be so cruel toward you? The men of the ton are not the sort to write home about, I can assure you.”

You laughed, amused by Eloise’s aversion to marriage. Well, aversion to marriage in the way that you knew it to be. She was so refreshing to speak with: Eloise had rejected two marriage proposals already simply because she didn’t like her suitors. Truthfully it was not something you had previously thought was possible.

“The Duke is not so bad that I would dread marrying him!” you giggled. “And he is fairly handsome, too.”

“The best of a bad bunch, it seems,” teased Eloise, sensing the beginnings of fondness in your voice.

How on earth was Colin related to her? Or any of the Bridgertons, really? Eloise was lovely, and it remained a mystery how she and Colin could share any parentage at all.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Daphne and Simon, who stood in the garden and tapped on a glass to address their guests. Not wanting baby Caroline to wake up, you stood up carefully and made your way across the garden to the nurses.

“And we also have some news to share,” Daphne announced excitedly.

You turned around to face the Duchess after successfully handing Caroline off to a nurse and groaned involuntarily as you saw Colin already standing next to you. Unfortunately, it was far too late to move without causing a commotion, and you did not hate Colin so much as to disrespect Daphne to avoid him.

Your peaceful, somewhat liberating afternoon came crashing down five seconds after being in Colin Bridgerton’s presence. You were instantly irritated by everything about him. Irritated by his signet ring glinting in the sunlight, by his windblown hair landing perfectly on his face, and by his small smile toward you when he saw you standing next to him,

Most of all, you were irritated with yourself for noticing every little detail about him. You were trying to listen to Daphne, but his breathing was so loud, so close to your ear that you found it impossible. It was ridiculous, you knew. And you also knew it was only irritating you because you hated him. But it didn’t stop you from absolutely loathing the way Colin Bridgerton breathed.

You felt anger rising in your chest as more time went on, his chest rising and falling evenly, and the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Stop breathing. I’m trying to listen to your sister,” you hissed.

“Stop breathing?” he whispered back, incredulous. “Do you suggest I stop entirely and fall dead right at this very moment?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shot back.

“It would certainly be on your conscience, then. Or perhaps you don’t have one. I wouldn’t be surprised,” he whispered back angrily.

And then suddenly, everyone was clapping and cheering, and neither of you had any idea what for. You looked around dumbly, trying to figure out what exactly had been said while mentally berating yourself for picking a fight with Colin, who also seemed confused by all the commotion.

Gregory walked up to Colin, clapping him on the back and punching him on the arm.

“We’re going to be uncles once again! D’you reckon I’ll be the godfather this time around?”

“Not a chance,” Colin responded jovially, having realized that Daphne had announced a pregnancy.

Gregory moaned in disappointment and walked away to speak with Simon, surely to convince him of his candidacy as a godfather, but Colin turned to you, a raging fire in his eyes.

“You couldn’t have waited ten more seconds before asking me to 'stop breathing'?” he all but spat.

You cringed, feeling a twinge of guilt in the pit of your stomach as you watched Colin walk away to speak with his sister. You deserved his wrath just this once. Perhaps you’d take the day off from antagonizing him, more for Daphne’s sake than anything else.

---

May 11, 1816 – Siena Rosso, esteemed opera singer and previously a regular performer at the Royal Opera House, has returned to Mayfair after two years away. This author has learned that the Montclairs have been invited to watch from Lady Danbury’s box…

You rubbed your eyes and sighed deeply, already dreading the three-hour-long opera ahead of you as you watched Siena Rosso emerge and begin singing.

Your mother turned around in her seat with a frown, leaning over to you. “Y/N,” she scolded softly. “Ce n'est pas digne d'une dame.” (That’s unladylike)

You rolled your eyes once she turned around again. Usually, you were not opposed to going to the opera, finding the story compelling and the music beautiful, but tonight all you were looking forward to were the closing curtains.

Lady Whistledown had failed to mention that the Bridgertons would be in Lady Danbury’s box tonight, too, and you were upset that you would have to spend the evening sitting next to Colin. Of course, Louis had gotten out of coming tonight, as had Benedict, and you simply assumed Colin would do the same. But no, he had shown up looking disconcertingly good and sat right next to you.

On top of being forced to spend the evening alongside your least favorite member of the ton, you were completely exhausted. Having come to terms with the reality that you would probably be engaged to be married in a few weeks, you had been unable to sleep and opted to go to your spot in the garden to look at the stars instead. Although it had been soothing, seeing the twinkling lights and being reminded of every version of you who had looked up at these same stars, you were now bone-tired and fighting off sleep.

You couldn’t even muster the energy to spite Colin in some form or another. All your energy was focused on staying awake and fighting against your eyelids as they periodically shuttered closed.

You had been hoping that, if anything, sitting next to Colin and inevitably trading insults with him would keep you awake, but he was being uncharacteristically mellow tonight. And you were nothing if not suspicious. In the time you had known him, he had always attempted at least one conversation-turned-argument within five minutes of seeing you.

Whatever the reason for his silence was, you were grateful. Perhaps his streak of combativeness was coming to an end and you could go back to silently loathing him. You hoped so. It had certainly been easier that way.

It would have been easier if you didn’t hate him at all, actually. And sometimes you did wish you could set aside your contempt toward each other and at least be civil. But then you remembered the biting words you heard in Lady Danbury’s hallway.

They were etched into your memory, replaying in your mind when you saw Colin being particularly sweet to one of his nieces or laughing with his brothers and you were tempted to forget the reason you hated him in the first place.

…I suppose it depends on her dowry. The larger the dowry the more I’m willing to overlook… I’m sure you could get away with anything with any of these girls, though I suggest picking one that’s got good hips.

Even just remembering the words made you want to strangle Colin. Colin Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke clearly had no respect for you and saw your worth as directly proportional to your dowry, so why should you have any respect for them?

Quite interestingly, you had not seen Nigel since that fateful night. But you didn’t dwell on it too much. Dealing with one of them was already more than enough for you.

Siena’s aria ended, and you realized you had not been paying attention in the slightest. However, you were not as bothered as you would usually be by your lack of attention. The music had become softer and lower, and you could hardly keep your eyes open. It wouldn’t hurt to close them for a short while, right? Siena wasn’t even performing, and you were sitting behind your mother, free from her prying eyes.

An hour later, Colin turned to look at you, sleeping peacefully, for what might have been the four-hundredth time. Your hand was supporting your head, your lips parted softly as you breathed deeply, and he just stared.

He had seen you laughing and smiling around other people, but this was the first time he had been so close to you without you glaring or frowning at him, and it was far more important to him than anything happening onstage.

In a few moments, you would wake up and remind him exactly why he disliked you, but for now, he could just enjoy this moment of peace.

A soft snore left your lips, and Colin nervously glanced toward your mother, hoping she hadn’t heard. He knew the countess would be upset if she realized her daughter was asleep at the opera, and he prayed your snore had been an isolated incident.

But to no avail; you let out another snore, slightly louder than the last, and Colin tensed. Your mother, along with his, seemed too enthralled in the opera to notice yet, but he suspected the snoring would only get worse.

Logically, Colin knew he had to do something. As much as he hated you– or rather hated that you hated him– he knew it would be cruel to let you face your mother’s wrath when you were clearly exhausted. But he couldn’t very well start being nice to you right now, after weeks of feuding.

He was far too proud to admit it to anyone, but you had gotten to him. You brought out the worst in him. Or maybe he brought out the worst in himself, and you were only there to see it. He felt slightly guilty at how aggressively he reacted at Daphne’s garden party, not to mention every other time he had made a disparaging comment about you. But the guilt quickly evaporated every time you replied with an equally disparaging comment.

After a moment, and another snore, Colin settled for reaching over and pinching your bicep to wake you up. You startled awake, almost yelping in pain and looking around in confusion.

Fully awake now, your eyes narrowed as you saw Colin smirking at you, his hand near your arm giving you a very clear idea of who had woken you up.

“Good morning, Lady Montclair. It’s nice of you to join us. There’s an opera happening at the minute, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said sarcastically.

You clenched your fists, eyes glancing at your mother as she dabbed at her eyes after what Colin could only imagine was a very emotional aria. After a deep breath, you crossed your arms and slumped back in your seat, defeated.

“Like you’re any better. I doubt you’ve paid attention at the opera a single time in your life,” you finally whispered back, stifling a yawn.

As you sat glowering, Colin thought that it might be impossible for the two of you to be in a room without arguing. However, at least Colin had made sure that you had plenty of reasons to hate him. He might not have known why you disliked him at first, but he certainly knew now, and that was a far better feeling than wondering what he did wrong.

—

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Puzzle Pieces // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, allusion to abortion, pregnancy scare, emotions

Summary: You and Jason are doing a last minute grocery run when you walk by the period products and realize that you’re late. You’re never late. One negative test, however, could change everything.

“Jay?”

It was the cadence of your voice that alerted something was wrong. A subtle hitch at the end of his name that sent a wave of icy cold chills down his spine. He turned from where he was collecting a massive amount of cup ramen and stared blankly at the thin box in your hand.

Jason was due to go out in an hour, but the two of you realized belatedly that you were out of ingredients for breakfast in the morning. There were two options: run by the corner store and grab some things or send you out alone in the morning while he slept in.

Jason Peter Todd would have to be six feet underground again before sending you out into Gotham when he knew that all the active vigilantes were fast asleep. If you were venturing out alone, it would be when someone was awake.

That found you two in the corner store near your apartment, snickering and trading jokes over your shoulders as you shuffled through the aisles. You were clad in one of his sweatshirts that practically drowned you in the cotton fabric and some basketball shorts underneath that he’s pretty sure you stole from Steph. He kept a close eye on you, his body inching around in the smallest increments to ensure that, no matter what, he was always between you and the door. He’d be damned if he lost the one good thing in his life.

“I…I didn’t realize, but then I saw the pads and…I’m late.” Panic was evident in your voice and no matter how desperately he wanted to fucking throw up in the middle of the bodega right then and there, Jason needed to keep it calm and cool right now. He quickly placed the ramen cups back on the counter and reached out, taking the pregnancy test out of your hand.

“Okay,” he said simply. One of his calloused hands came up and rested on your cheek, cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, but he could feel the slight tremble in your body.

Fuckfuckfuck. He was on autopilot as he approached the counter, tossed a twenty onto the plastic shelf, and walked out with a pregnancy test in one hand and yours clasped in the other. Jason wants to say something, the right words or placating phrase that will make this all better but he can’t because he can’t fucking think about anything except for the fact that he will be the worst goddamn father on the planet.

Pregnant. Fucking hell. You could be pregnant. They were usually so careful. You were on the pill and he made sure you took it religiously. How the fuck could you be pregnant? He couldn’t be a dad. Willis had been a piece of shit who beat Catherine and basically fucked off into the sunset, leaving him and his mom to fend for themselves. Jason had been just a kid yet he picked his mom up off the ground when she was high out of her mind. Then there was Bruce…

Jason ushered you into the apartment and nudged you gently towards the bathroom. He made sure to lock up behind you and then slowly walked to your bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and took a moment, just one single moment, to inhale deeply. He needed to be steady and calm for you. He could freak out later when he was patrolling.

Shit, he needed to be suited up and patrolling the Bowery in an hour.

“Babe?” he asked, his knuckles gently hitting the door. You murmured out a quiet welcome and he slipped in before shutting the door behind him. You were curled up against the tub, staring blankly at the wall, and the test rested on the edge of the tub face down.

Jason sat down on the floor across from you and leaned back against the sink. He stretched his legs out and motioned for you to shuffle over to him. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You dragged yourself across the cold tile floor and settled yourself between his legs, your head resting on his chest. Pressing your ear against the warm scratchy fabric of his shirt and relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Christ, babe, why the hell’re you apologizing?”

“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “We’ve never talked about it. God, Jase, we’re barely adults ourselves. We’re still trying to figure out how to take care of Merry and Pippin, for fuck’s sake!” You were referencing, of course, the two cats Jason had rescued from a dumpster one night that now slept every night cuddled up against you. Jason had insisted that they were only staying for the night to get them out of the cold.

That had been three months ago and the furry little bastards were currently asleep on top of your pillows.

“Hey, hey.” His lips brushed across the crown of your head as he shushed you. You were shaking in his arms and he hated this. He hated not being able to protect you. Hell, he’s the one that got you into this situation.

“No matter what happens, I’m all in, okay?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears, but you needed to hear this as much as he did. “Whatever you choose, I will support you all the way, you got that?”

“But what if…”

“Sweetheart, you’re the one in control of your body. Whatever you choose will be the best choice for us.”

You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and bit back a sob. Jason scruffed the back of your neck in a loving gesture, his other arm curling around your waist and tugging you impossibly closer. Jason felt helpless and for a man accustomed to beating the shit out of his problems, he hated that he couldn’t fix this for you.

Your phone started to sing a little chime and you sniffled, reaching over to shut it off. “That means it’s ready. I…I can’t do it.”

He soothed his hand over your hip and kissed your temple. “I’ll do it.”

Truth be told, Jason was terrified. He tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the bathtub. He didn’t know how he would react to whatever that little stick said. Christ on a handbasket, one little mathematical symbol might change his entire life. He loved being a brother, not that he would ever tell the little gaggle of brats, and he loved being an uncle to Lian, but a father? Could he do that?

There was one thing he didn’t doubt. You would be the best mother in the world. Fiercely loyal, kind, caring, didn’t put up with his bullshit…he could almost picture a toddler on your hip as you smiled at it. But he didn’t see himself there.

Maybe this was a sign that he had tried clinging to his ill-fated happiness for too long.

“Bubs?” Your murmur knocked him out of his thoughts and Jason shook his head.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“‘S okay,” you said. “I get it.”

Jason inhaled sharply and then flipped over the test. His shoulders dropped at the sight of the minus sign and he extended the test to you. You clasped your hands over the little stick and bowed your head.

Silence enveloped the small, cramped bathroom. Jason studied the broken tile over by the toilet and made a mental note on looking into how to recaulk the shower tiles. They needed another bulb over the sink and maybe a better shower head. Hell, maybe they should paint the bathroom. Anything would be better than the garish lime green the landlord thought would make it look “70s mod”.

“I don’t know what to think,” you finally croaked out. You shuffled out of his hold and turned to face him. His head snapped up and he met your eyes, finding them red rimmed with tears clinging to the edges of your lashes. Jason scooted forward and laid a heavy hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

“Talk to me,” he urged. Selfishly, he needed to hear you voice your thoughts because he was fucking terrified that one day he would come home and find all of your things gone. This life couldn’t be easy for you. He needed to stop doing this shit to you. You deserved a better life.

“I think I need some time to process,” you admitted. “Can I…can we talk about this after you get back?”

That sinking feeling in his chest now felt like leaden rock in his gut. He might prefer a crowbar to the chest instead of the dread that currently consumed him.

“I’m not mad at you,” you blurted out once you saw the wounded look cross his face before he schooled his features like he had been trained. “I’m just feeling a lot of stuff right now and I want to be able to think it out before I say something stupid. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

You reached out and touched his cheek. He turned his head to lay a featherlight kiss against your palm and then stood. “I’ll be home by four.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He was off his game all night. Jason nearly got shot twice when he finally called it quits and let Steph and Cass take on the Bowery. Dick had tried coaxing out why he was in a piss poor mood, but Jason merely muted his comms and shoved the little device in his pocket. His helmet sat next to him on the roof ledge, leaving him in just a red domino mask.

It was creeping towards three and the tiniest light began to creep across the horizon. The inky black night sky dominated Gotham still and Jason took a little solace in the fact that he was cloaked by the shadows.

It wasn’t enough to hide him from Bruce.

The large shadow of his adoptive father landed beside him. Jason didn’t bother turning to look at him and instead focused straight ahead at the slowly rising sun. Bruce silently sat next to him on the roof, his legs dangling over the side.

Side by side, just like they had all those years ago when Jason was still dressed up as a traffic light and Bruce had been…lighter, for lack of a better word.

“Pregnancy scare,” Jason finally admitted. He knew Bruce wouldn’t ask, but he also knew that Bruce wouldn’t leave until he got a clue as to why Jason was sulking on a rooftop instead of beating the face in of some wannabe trafficker.

Bruce stiffened just slightly and Jason huffed out a laugh. “Relax, it was negative.”

“I thought you would be relieved,” Bruce said. None of his kids had ever expressed any interest in reproducing. In fact, Alfred had money on them picking up his serial adoption habits. Clark was in on the bet too. Bastards.

“I’d be a shit dad,” Jason grunted. “I’d fuck that kid up in the head and probably leave it out on the streets like Willis.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Bruce said it so calmly. So matter of factly. He said it as if it was the truth engraved in granite.

Jason barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, and you’re father of the year, right? You get to bestow that honor on the next asshole?”

There was a slight twitch in Bruce’s jaw, one that no one would notice unless you were one of his family members. His piercing gaze stared out on the city he loved so desperately and then he looked at the son he had lost so painfully.

“You would be an amazing father because you would ensure that you didn’t make the same mistakes Willis and I made.”

Jason sucked in a sharp breath at his father’s soft words. He clenched his jaw shut and shook his head. A gloved hand landed on his shoulder and Jason raised his head, meeting the white lenses of the cowl so many feared.

“You love this city so much that you are willing to go to lengths that I can’t bring myself to do. You do things I don’t approve of, but you do it because you care so much that you feel the pain the people feel. You love deeply, Jaylad, you always have. I failed you as a father so many times. I should have never let you become Robin. I should have never let any of you out in the field. You were…you were just a kid.

But the one thing I will never regret is bringing you into our home and our family. Being your father has brought me the greatest sorrow and immense joy of my life and I would never, ever give that up.”

Bruce pulled away and stood up. “You should go home. Talk.”

Jason swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and nodded. “Right. Thanks. Fuck you or whatever.”

Batman’s lips quirked up at the corner and then he sighed. “Nice to see you too, Hood.”

Jason waited until he slipped back into the shadows before he pulled on his helmet and grappled back to the Bowery. He landed on his fire escape and quickly slid in through the window. His entry disturbed Merry who had been sleeping on the windowsill. The cat hissed at him and then hopped down, probably in search of his brother.

“Sorry,” he whispered to the cat. God, he was so whipped.

“Bubs?” Your tired voice came from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Jason closed and locked the window and headed towards you. All the lights in the apartment were off except for the small, single bulb that hung over the kitchen. It bathed you in a warm light, highlighting the tired circles under your eyes.

A lukewarm mug of tea and a thousand piece puzzle was scattered on the table before you, your usual routine when you couldn’t sleep and decided to stay up and wait for him. Jason stripped off his gloves, weapons, and jacket and dumped them on the floor and then he tugged off his helmet.

You loved seeing him right after patrol. Not only were you able to reassure yourself that he was safe, but you also got to see him when he was in his element. Sweat strands of hair curled across his forehead and beads of moisture trailed down his neck before seeping into the collar of his undershirt. His powerful thighs were bracketed by his tactical pants and thigh holsters and you sighed at the mere sight of his legs.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Jason teased. His voice was warm, but it lacked the confidence he normally possessed. You curled your hand around the bottom hem of his shirt and tugged him closer, your lips meeting his in a delicate kiss. His hand came up to cup your jaw and he deepened the kiss.

“I want a baby.” The words spilled out of you faster than you could rein in the thought. Jason’s eyes widened and you cursed under your breath.

“You want…a baby,” he repeated.

“With you. I want a baby with you. Not right now. Not even this year. But, I want a kid someday with you. When I saw that negative, I was relieved and then I was-”

He cut you off. “Disappointed. You were disappointed because for a moment, you thought about it and realized that you actually wanted this. Just not right now.”

You nodded and pushed his curly, sweat-drenched hair back from his face. “A little boy with your eyes and smile.”

“Or a little girl with your hair and attitude.”

“I want that, bubs,” you assured him. “I want it all with you. A kid, a life, a house with a picket fence and two point five kids or whatever the fuck the American Dream is supposed to be.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he replied in a choked voice. “I’m not a good man, sweetheart.”

Now you stood. You pulled his head down so his forehead pressed against yours and you rested your other hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Jason Peter Todd,” you said fiercely. “You are the only man I love. The only man I trust. I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone other than you. I want it all, the good and the bad. You do so much for me and for this city.”

Your hand smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you for once. Let me protect you from that mind of yours. I want to have a baby with you, bubs, because I trust you more than anyone that you would love and cherish and protect us with your entire being.”

“I would crawl out of a grave and dip into the Lazarus pit again and again if it meant keeping you safe,” he whispered fiercely.

“I know.” Tears were spilling down your cheeks. “I love you, Jason. So much.”

He clasped his hand over the one that rested on his chest. All of the doubts and insecurities started to ebb away with your gentle touch and soothing words. He burned with the very thought of you filled with a reminder of him. A signal that he was somehow lucky enough, good enough, blessed to be able to worship you the way you deserved.

Jason slid one of his hands under your ass and hauled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist. He scooted past the now cuddling cats and headed towards the bathroom as you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed as he sat you down on the sink counter. Jason reached for the back of his shirt and shot you an incredulous look.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Strip, we need to practice.”

The sun emerged from the darkness finally and bathed Gotham in a rare cloudless sky, but it went unnoticed to the two of you. You were, well, busy.

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#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood angst #red hood fluff

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wlykjh · 4 months

Text

high society

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

masterlist

HAPPY NEW YEARSSS im going through a bridgerton phase rn and was reminded of my quarantine obsession w jane austen and enhypen so here's a jake period piece :P

summary: it's the early 19th century regency era, you belong to a well-known noble family but your father has been noticing a decline in his finances. determined to save the estate and his honor, he encourages you to mingle with any and every suitable bachelor in your town to secure the family fortune through marriage. none of them catch your eye, until you meet park sunghoon...'s stableman. (not proofread)

date: 01/01/24

scenario themes: period piece, rich girl broke dude cliche

idol: jake sim or sim jaeyun of enhypen

concept: fluff

warnings: mentions of hitting women (nothing crazy i swear)

word count: 7.28k

it was a typical sunday morning, you woke up in your satin sheets, calling to your servants to ready you for the day. after getting dressed and having your hair fixed, you made your way down the stairs to enjoy breakfast with your family as usual.

you've always enjoyed a life of luxury. belonging to a dignified household constantly bustling with an array of servants, housekeepers, cooks, and more, you never felt any need to marry.

why go from such a grand, happy estate to a smaller one to live with complete strangers as opposed to the hands that practically raised you? why abandon your daily latin lessons with your governess to listen to your mother-in-law lecture you about producing an heir?

luckily, you were the youngest daughter of six siblings, three girls and three boys. your brothers ensured your family name would survive and your sisters provided your parents with plenty of marriage proposals to occupy themselves with. there was absolutely no reason for you to be wed any time soon.

at least that's what you thought before you sat down to breakfast. "good morning, y/n" your mother greeted. "good morning mother, father." you acknowledged the man sitting across the table from you, occupied with a small journal in his hands.

as you were about to take a sip of your morning tea, you heard your father sigh, exasperated. "what seems to be the matter, father?" your elder sister asked, eyeing the journal.

"i'm simply going over finances. there's no need to panic as it is a matter of little emergency. we will need to find a new source of income by next sunday, and since your lazy and careless brothers cannot be bothered to fulfill their duties as men, it is up to you girls to marry men who can." he asserted.

unaffected, you continued to pick at your breakfast. you have two older sisters who are perfectly fit to wed, why should you worry?

"we have already begun looking for matches for catherine and y/n." your mother noted. your head shot up upon hearing your name, "pardon me?" you exclaimed, "what about arabella? she's the eldest of all of us."

"we have been looking for a suitor for arabella for a twelvemonth now. she is clearly unfit to be a bride, just look at her!" your mother began, prompting your oldest sibling to roll her eyes.

arabella has always been... unladylike to say the least. she sported breeches while horse riding and insisted on discussing politics and sports instead of more suitable feminine topics. it's no surprise most of the men in this age couldn't stand her.

you personally never minded. she did a better job educating you than your own governess, reading controversial female literature to you and encouraging you to avoid marriage for as long as you can, which you gladly did.

unfortunately, you weren't as forward as arabella. you wouldn't dare disagree with your parents like her, recalling how she boldly rejected a marriage proposal from a wealthy lord, angering your father.

you bit your tongue to prevent a protest from leaving your lips. what are the odds you'll actually find someone? all you have to do is push away all the suitors long enough for catherine to find someone. after all, she was a model young lady: quiet, pretty enough, and obedient.

you, on the other hand, could only be described as spoiled and insolent. perhaps not as impertinent as arabella, but you were definitely sassy in your own right. most men found your attitude off-putting and made empty threats to "whip you into shape".

"enough of this discussion. we will be attending a ball tonight in an attempt to mingle with some members of high society. I expect you girls to be on your best behavior. and be sure to invite any potential bachelors to our estate for tea!" your mother rambled.

you were undoubtedly annoyed at the circumstances, but oh how you loved getting ready for functions like these. wearing your nicest gowns, displaying your expensive jewelry and unique hair styles. then, actually arriving at the formal and being able to listen to delightful pianoforte and dance with strangers.

the ball was being held by the park estate, renowned throughout the province for being incredibly wealthy. the parks had four sons, two of whom were already married. which left sunghoon and jay as the biggest targets of every unmarried girl within a ten kilometer radius.

they were quite handsome, but you weren't interested in either. perhaps they'd make good matches for catherine, supplying your family with an alarming amount of wealth and allowing you to remain a happy spinster for the rest of your days.

before you knew it, it was time to ready yourself for the ball. excitedly, you threw on your finest corset and carefully selected your prettiest lavender gown, pairing it with a dainty pearl set.

as you situated yourself in the carriage with your sisters and mother, you couldn't help but zone out as they excitedly discussed meeting the park brothers. "i hope jay asks me for a dance!" catherine giggled, prompting arabella to shift uncomfortably.

she always seemed to react a bit oddly to any mentions of jay. you honestly didn't mind him, he's generous and far more liberal than most men. maybe not liberal enough for arabella, but you suppose nobody is.

by the time you reached the park estate, you excitedly jumped out of the carriage first, rushing into the doors of the large manor. you're not one to be impressed by ostentatious displays of wealth, but by God was this place striking.

marble and gold mosaic lined the interior walls with chandeliers latched onto the high ceilings, illuminating the magnificent paintings along the walls. a group of musicians was situated in the corner of the large room, playing loudly as dozens of ladies and lords conversed, dressed to the nines.

you looked to your left and noticed arabella fiddling with her dress. grasping her hand, you smiled before sighing, "isn't it beautiful?"

she playfully rolled her eyes, "it is, but not beautiful enough to marry into this mad family. don't fall for whatever trap mother and father are attempting to catch you in." she warned.

"yes, yes, I know. can't you just enjoy the ball?" you pleaded. she simply shook her head and announced that she would be heading to the garden for some solitude. as odd as she is, your sister is dear to you and you'd like to see her happily settled down with a good man one day.

turning, you were greeted with the sight of park sunghoon. great. you could see your mother eyeing you in your peripheral vision so now you had to acknowledge him.

"hello, sunghoon." you half-smiled and curtsied. he bowed in response, "good evening, y/n. would you care to join me for a dance?" he asked, extending his arm to you. i'd rather eat dirt. "I would love to." you took his arm.

it's not like you dislike sunghoon. he's a proper gentleman. he enjoys hunting and composing music, he's tall, handsome, and not to mention extremely well-off. but he bored you to no end, and he was very old-fashioned.

you vividly remember overhearing a conversation between him and your brothers, where he proudly claimed he would spank arabella until she behaved if he was her husband. you also remember jay getting quite upset at him afterward.

"i heard your parents were looking to give your hand" he started, interrupting your thoughts. "yes, it appears so." you responded, absentmindedly. "have you met anyone suitable yet?" he carefully continued.

you weren't an idiot. it's apparent sunghoon has had a sort of infatuation with you for a while now. "no, not yet." you sighed. you didn't miss how his eyebrow raised. uncomfortable, you decided to excuse yourself, "I need to freshen up. would you mind pointing me in the direction of the bath?"

"certainly." he responded, sounding rather annoyed. after showing you the way, you practically sprinted out the door in your heels, desperate to get away from the smell of his headache-inducing fragrance.

you spotted a greenhouse and deduced it must be close to the garden, where arabella should be. making your way there, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a clanging noise followed by muffled shushes.

deciding to investigate, you inched closer to the source of the sound and nearly yelped at the sight.

you saw arabella and jay embracing one another. but not just embracing. they were fondling, kissing, grasping at one another. it was quite possibly the most lewd thing you've ever seen.

you didn't know what to say or how to react. so you turned and ran in the opposite direction, praying neither of them saw you. unfortunately for you, you're completely unfamiliar with the grounds and ended up running headfirst into a door.

you fell on the ground with a pounding pain in your temple. sitting up, you looked around for a clue as to where you were but to no avail. you were too dumbfounded at the sight you just witnessed to process anything else.

thankfully, you heard footsteps rushing to where you were and a strong pair of arms lifting you up. "are you alright, ma'am?" the stranger's voice fretted.

"yes, yes I--arabella. OH MY GOODNESS ARABELLA. you have to help me sir." you grasped at the thin, cloth shirt the boy opposite you was wearing.

"who's arabella? what's wrong?" the man asked. you noticed he had a very peculiar accent, one that sounded more akin to commoners. his clothing was quite dirty as well. he must've been a new servant, probably a stablehand.

"my sister. she was--he--jay was... doing something to her." you rasped. it wasn't long before the man began chuckling. "oh yes, they do that quite often."

he slowly released his grip on you and stepped back. "you need not worry about her. would you like assistance heading back to the ball, ma'am?"

he turned around before you even responded, heading towards the manor before you grabbed his arm. "wait. i would actually prefer to stay out here."

you must sound like an idiot. and the puzzled look on the boy's face only affirms that. the truth is you just don't want to have to deal with your mother pressuring you and sunghoon's advances.

"what's your name?" you asked the servant, changing the topic. "jake, ma'am." he responded swiftly. "you need not call me ma'am. y/n will do just fine." you shot jake a smile.

you're not sure why you enjoy this boy's presence so much. perhaps it's his puppy-like eyes or his soft voice. "well, y/n," jake prompted.

just hearing him say your name sent shivers down your spine. what has gotten into you? he's a stablehand. a servant.

"i suggest we go inside as it is exceedingly cold out. we wouldn't want you to develop an illness" he sympathized. he led you into the dimly lit stables, where you could get a better look at him.

he had thick pink lips and long black hair that nearly covered his eyes. his nose was long and tall and he had highly defined cheekbones coupled with a sharp jawline. he was dangerously handsome.

you caught yourself staring at him and got a bit embarrassed before you noticed that his eyes kept darting down at you and away, nervously. you looked down to see your corset was disheveled after your fall, revealing a bit of your cleavage.

screaming, you threw your purse at him while attempting to cover yourself. was this stableboy about to do to you whatever jay was doing with your sister?

he put his hands up above his head as if to surrender and apologized profusely. "i'm so, so sorry ma'am! I meant to mention it earlier but I was a bit apprehensive as I didn't want to offend you-"

you steadied yourself a bit seeing how anxious jake looked. attempting to console him, you held his shaking hands. poor thing probably thought you were going to get him whipped, or worse.

"it's fine. I'm just a bit on edge after... never mind that. could you please explain to me what I saw jay doing with my sister? it is still heavy on my mind." you hesitated.

jake began looking bashful again. "when two people are overcome by lust, they tend to... fornicate." he explained awkwardly. you gasped. you weren't familiar with what fornication actually looked like, but you knew it was a great shame.

"please, please don't tell anyone." you begged him, still gripping onto his hands. "of course, not, ma'am--y/n. it's not my business to tell." he assured.

smiling, you let go of his hands. the two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, looking out the doors to the stable at the starry sky and beautiful garden underneath it.

jake broke the silence first, "i believe it's time for you to return to the ball. your family must be getting worried."

your mood immediately soured. you wanted nothing less than to return to the ball you were once so excited to attend, especially because it was now a matchmaking event for your parents.

"right." you straightened down your gown. "do you think you could... help me adjust my corset before I go?" you cautioned. the truth is you could've easily fixed it yourself, you just wanted another excuse to be close to jake again.

he shuffled behind you before fastening one of the buttons on your top that had come undone. his hands were shaky yet his grip was firm. your breath hitched as he gently moved your hair to the side.

the tension was palpable, and before you knew it, you had turned around and were face to face with jake. your noses were nearly touching and you felt an electric shock travel from your stomach to your head.

feeling lightheaded, you moved a bit closer. you could hear his breathing speed up.

the next thing you know your lips were touching his. you knew this wasn't right, that this was not only a shameful thing to do as an unmarried woman, but with a stablehand of all people?

but in that moment, you couldn't care less. you attempted to deepen the kiss awkwardly but it was apparent you had no idea what you were doing. he didn't seem to mind though, reciprocating your efforts.

you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. panicking, you pulled away. you didn't miss how jake seemed to lean in again subconsciously, which almost prompted you to jump back into his arms.

but you were way too terrified of getting caught. without thinking, you ducked behind a bale of hay. holding back a laugh, jake turned to face the front of the stables where arabella and jay walked in. arabella was wearing trousers and a linen shirt that she must've had on under her gown.

"jake, ready two horses at once." jay ordered, sternly. "of course, master jay." jake obediently answered.

"are you sure about this, jay?" arabella whispered, tugging on the boy's sleeve. "we have no other choice, you know my parents won't approve of you." he insisted sympathetically, grasping onto her hands.

were they about to elope?

jake handed jay the reigns to two separate horses. jay simply smiled and thanked him before handing one of the horses over to arabella. "I wish I could've at least told my baby sister." she sighed.

rage built up inside of you. how could she keep this from you? she definitely doesn't have to tell you now because you're going to make it known that you're well aware.

you jumped up from behind the hay like a madwoman, your corset still slightly a mess with straw in your hair. "arabella! how could you?" you yelled accusingly.

yelping, your sister quickly covered her mouth. "y/n, what on earth are you doing in here?" she retorted, still slightly shocked. "never mind that. were you about to elope... with him?" you motioned over to jay.

"y/n, I'm not sure what you think of me at this moment but I assure you it was for the best-" he started. "I don't care. unhand my sister at once." you seethed. "y/n! do not speak to him that way!" arabella defended.

you were furious. arabella, your tomboy and supposed spinster of a sister was secretly fornicating with jay park and now she was planning on eloping with him.

jake looked awkwardly between you and your sister as jay held his head down. you and arabella on the other hand were having a heated stare-down.

"if you stay, i won't tell a soul about this. if you leave, I will tell the entire county and a search party will be sent for the two of you within an hour. it's your decision." you growled.

sighing, arabella shot jay a knowing look to which he nodded in agreement. "we will stay. but if you know what's best for you, you'll be quiet." she warned. you wanted to scoff at her threat, but you knew it would just fan the flames all over again.

jay suggested heading back to the ball as the three of you had been out long enough. after jake led you through the servant's staircase, the three of you joined the party once again, luckily right before it was about to end.

sunghoon caught your eye right as you were leaving, and of course, your mother happened to be right in front of you when he approached you. "y/n! i've been looking for you the whole night. I was hoping to get a second dance," he slurred, it was evident he had one too many glasses of port wine.

"perhaps next time, sunghoon." you grumbled. your mother sent him an apologetic look before waving goodbye.

fortunately, there were two carriages sent to retrieve you and your family after your mother complained that the one was too cramped. unfortunately, mother and catherine jumped into the first one, leaving you and arabella alone in the second.

you honestly couldn't bare looking at her, let alone speaking to her on the way home, so you opted for staring out at the countryside through the small window.

"why were you in the stables?" arabella began. you shot her an annoyed look. "i know you're upset with me, y/n, but you wouldn't understand what it's like to be in love with someone you can't be with. it's unbearable."

"no. maybe I don't. but I do know that it's wrong to leave behind your loved ones. besides, you and jay nearly had an arrangement! was there really a need to go and do all this? mother practically begged you to be with him-"

"and his parents couldn't stand me. they told him he could never marry such an uncouth woman." she sputtered, tears forming at her eyes.

your heart hurt for your sister, but you were still far too upset to embrace her. "the stablehand, jake." you blurted.

she looked up at you, confused. "i saw you and jay..." you explained, prompting arabella to look away once again in shame. "...and I ended up hitting my head on the stable doors somehow. jake came out to help me and we somehow ended up kissing." you admitted, slightly embarrassed.

arabella's mouth opened slightly, before it closed and formed a smile. "do you like him?" she chided like a small child.

that was one of the things you loved so much about your sister. she was never judgemental, always open to hearing whatever you had to say.

"I believe I do." you smiled sadly, "but it would never work. he's a servant for crying out loud."

"do you want to see him again?" she asked, unexpectedly. you nodded before seeing a mischievous glint in her eye. she smiled widely and made a proclamation, "how's this? I help you hide your meetings with jake and you help me with jay. it may not be a long term solution but it would help, wouldn't it?"

"what about mother's obsession with marrying me off?" you huffed. "she's not obsessed with just you marrying. besides, sunghoon alone is wealthy enough to fix our financial woes. let's set him up with catherine, convincing her to set her sights on him." she stated.

springing up from your seat, you held your sister while cheering, "genius! you're a genius!" causing her to laugh and cheer as well.

that night you couldn't sleep. your mind kept replaying the kiss between you and jake. you could still feel the ghost of his soft lips on yours. giggling to yourself, you realized you probably look like a madwoman. yet, you didn't really mind. all you cared about was seeing jake again.

the next morning you mentally prepared yourself as you made your way down to breakfast. all you have to do is fib a bit to your family, it can’t possibly be that hard.

making eye contact with arabella as you waltzed down the stairs, you held back a smile before greeting your parents.

“mother, you’ll be delighted to know that i believe i’ve found my match.” you announced, rather dramatically. your mother nearly dropped her spoon upon hearing the good news, and your father simply smiled and asked, “who is it, my dear?”

“jay park.” you grinned, watching as arabella shot you a mischievous wink from across the dining table. “i was thinking we could perhaps have a luncheon at the park residence today. sunghoon also made it very apparent to me that he has been showing an interest in one of my sisters,”

this caught the attention of catherine.

“which one of us?” catherine yelped. “clearly not arabella,” your younger brother snickered, earning a light smack to the back of the head from your sister.

“he… erm, didn’t say. which is why we must find out today at the luncheon!” you stammered. as unconvincing as you sounded, your parents and siblings seemed to fully believe you, which meant your plan was now in motion.

from that day on, you and arabella were able to make your way to the park’s estate nearly daily by lying.

part of you felt guilty, but that guilt was alleviated as soon as you felt jake’s warm embrace. the two of you would lay in the garden some days, and sneak around the manor on other days, using the servant passageways.

you would constantly cover up for arabella as she would for you. and to your surprise, you witnessed a romance slowly blooming between catherine and sunghoon.

“what are your plans for the future? would you like to start a family, settle down in the countryside? or would you like to move into the city, somewhere in london perhaps?” you asked jake. you were sitting in the shade of a large oak tree behind the park manor with his head in your lap as you ran your fingers aimlessly through his soft hair.

he laughed lightly, “i always assumed I’d be stuck here forever, picking up horse dung.”

you felt a pang of hurt in your chest, being reminded of the harsh reality of being a servant. “surely that can’t be. don’t you have a home? where is your family residing?” you asked.

“of course i have a home,” jake started as he slowly got up from your lap. you immediately felt the cool breeze hit your lap in the absence of his warmth. “it’s in the southern part of town, my parents and brother own a bakery near there, on 5th street.” he smiled to himself.

“why didn’t you work in the bakery?” you prodded. you felt a bit nosy, but you were genuinely curious. “we were hardly making anything, it seems like nobody has enough to even spend on bread anymore. I had to find a job elsewhere and this seemed to be the only option.”

you felt a sense of guilt wash over you. you were so used to your own servants hanging on your every whim yet you never wondered about their livelihood. with income running low, father cut their salaries which you’re sure was already low.

“enough of that.” jake coughed, visibly uncomfortable, “will you read to me?”

you smiled, grabbing the long-forgotten novel in the grass behind you.

everything was running smoothly until the parks decided to come over for tea one eventful afternoon. you happily greeted lord and lady park along with their two youngest sons as they sat down in the drawing room.

you were only excited to see jay so you could cryptically ask about any developments concerning jake. unfortunately, you wouldn’t have any time to as your parents did most of the talking.

“so, i hear that jay and y/n are getting on quite well,” lady park beamed. your mother nodded vigorously in approval while you and jay feigned bashfulness.

“i also heard good news about sunghoon and my dear catherine.” your father added, to which lord park raised his cup to.

it was a typical, and rather boring, conversation until sunghoon decided to pipe in, “i always presumed i would end up with y/n,” he said casually, chuckling to himself.

catherine suddenly looked to mother, shocked. “i thought you were interested in catherine, mr. park.” your mother quipped.

“oh, of course. but that is a much more recent development. i’ve been pandering after y/n since we were kids for christ sake.”

your mother glared at you, clearly upset with your lying but at least you could cover it up by claiming you were too occupied with jay to notice sunghoon’s advances.

coughing awkwardly, your father suddenly stood up, brushing himself off. “lady l/n and i have long thought about this decision, and wanted to ask you personally instead of relying on correspondence.” once he had everyone in the room’s attention, he continued,

“we believe y/n and jay should be wed by tomorrow.”

you froze. you watched as jay and sunghoon’s jaws dropped and the elder parks began to protest. tomorrow?

“as happy as we all are that our children are getting on, don’t you think tomorrow is making haste?” lady park commented, but your father insisted, “we don’t need to plan the grand ceremony just yet, but an intimate procession in which legal and religious matters are sorted would be nice to get out of the way, wouldn’t it?”

you knew exactly why your father was so desperate to get you married by tomorrow as it would be saturday, meaning you had only tomorrow to correct the family finances.

“with all due respect, i feel like this is a bit rushed. jay and i haven’t fully gotten to know each other yet. don’t you think sunghoon and catherine would make a better match?” you suggested, your voice shaky.

“nonsense. you’ve gone over to the park’s nearly every day this week, spending hours there each visit. surely you’ve gotten to know him enough.” your mother insisted.

“then it is set. the two are to be wed tomorrow, let us discuss the details!” lady park shared gleefully.

you couldn’t bare listening any longer. wordlessly, you stood up, heading to your room, passing by arabella who was eavesdropping by the steps.

“she must be nervous.” your father announced after your departure.

once you found your way to your bed you collapsed. what were you going to do? how were you going to tell jake? you felt hopeless.

you heard a knock on your door. then another one, this time more impatient. “come in.” you groaned, ready to unleash your wrath on whoever walked in.

“are you alright, miss l/n? i heard a large slam coming from this direction.” an elderly maid asked innocently.

seeing her familiar face calmed your nerves. she had been working around the house for as long as you can remember, but she looked much more tired now. you thought back to your conversation with jake and realized how little you seemed to notice her condition weaken over time.

christ, you didn’t even know her name.

“i’m fine,” you smiled. “um, could you please set up a carriage for me? if you’d like, i’d prefer it if you joined me.” you suggested.

she looked taken aback but quickly composed herself, “yes of course, miss l/n.”

it wasn’t long before the carriage was drawn and you and your maid stepped inside. “where to, miss l/n?” she asked, “the bakery on 5th street, i believe it is located south of here.”

“pardon me miss l/n, but isn’t fetching bread a servant’s job?” she hesitated. “please just call me y/n, and i plan on doing more than simply ‘fetching bread’” you responded reassuringly.

she nodded and the two of you set course for the bakery. along the way, you decided to learn more about the maid. you found out that her name is agatha, she was aged three and forty, had three kids of her own, and had been working for your family since you were born.

once you arrived, you and agatha stepped into the nearly empty building. the only person you saw was a young man behind the counter who you assumed was jake’s brother.

“good afternoon, ma’am. how can i be of assistance?” the boy greeted, dusting off his flour-covered hands on the counter.

“i’d like to purchase ten loaves of bread.” you beamed. agatha glanced over at you, confused. “that would be ten shillings, ma’am” he smiled. he looked strikingly similar to jake when he did so.

“who on earth could be buying that much bread-” you heard a familiar voice emerge from behind the counter. you were surprised to see jake wearing much more casual clothing than you’re used to seeing him in, holding a loaf of steaming bread.

he stopped upon seeing you, quickly pulling himself together. “my apologies… ma’am.” he nearly whispered before disappearing back into the kitchen. for the rest of the time he popped in and out the two of you did your best to ignore one another.

after nearly half an hour of waiting, your order was finished. as you loaded the loaves into the carriage with the help of jake and his brother, you felt the sudden urge to tell jake about your impending marriage.

unfortunately, you couldn’t find a way to without raising the suspicions of either agatha or his brother, so you thanked the both of them and went on your way. hopefully it would all be sorted out and he’d never have to know.

once alone with agatha, you handed the loaves to her. “please distribute these among the servant’s families, and keep one for your own. I’d like to make a quick stop before i return.” you shared. “of course, where to?” she asked.

“your home.” you answered casually. “miss l/n-”

“y/n.” you corrected. “y/n, is something the matter? i apologize if i’m speaking too freely but you have been behaving a bit oddly today.” agatha nervously shared.

“yes actually, there is a cause for great concern. i am to be wed tomorrow to a man i have no affection for meanwhile i am hopelessly in love with a stableboy.” you stated carelessly.

you yourself are unsure of why you decided to confide in agatha but you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders once you did.

“I’m sorry to hear that. i hope for the best for you always, you know you’ve always been my favorite of your siblings.” she half-joked, lightening the mood.

you couldn’t help but laugh, and before you knew it, the two of you were joking with each other like old friends.

once you arrived at agatha’s house you handed her two shillings. “this is double your salary for the day. take off early, i insist. neither mother or father will hear a word of this, i swear.” you said, clasping her hand in your own.

her expression turned to one of immense gratitude and she rushed to hug you. before you could react, she pulled away, apologizing repeatedly.

you simply pulled her back in, embracing her even tighter. she bid you farewell as she stepped out of the carriage and you began to make your way back as the sun set.

arriving home, you were greeted with the sight of your parents standing behind the front gates, visibly furious.

“where were you all this time? it is nearly dark and you did not notify anyone of your departure. my goodness, and you set off alone!” your mother gasped.

“is this how a lady is to act before she is about to be married? you better correct yourself before jay catches onto this scandalous behavior.” father boomed.

you grumbled a “yes, father” before hurrying inside, back to your chambers. you were surprised to see arabella waiting anxiously on your bed.

“where were you?” she jumped up. “nowhere important.” you shrugged. “christ, i thought you had eloped!” your sister exclaimed. to be frank, you were beginning to consider it as an option.

“nonsense. i won’t be eloping just like i won’t be marrying jay.”

you saw her face drop at the mention of her lover. “sister,” you sat beside her, “i promise you we will fix this mess together.”

“but how?” arabella sighed. “i say we convince sunghoon and catherine to marry instead of jay and i.” you shared.

your sister raised an eyebrow at your proposal, “how on earth will we do that?”

“we have to tell them the truth about you and jay.” you declared. you could see a glimpse of fear in arabella’s eyes, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit afraid yourself. “fine.” she agreed. you held her hand tightly as she confided in you the rest of the night.

the following morning, the park’s estate was bustling, the servants all gossiping about jay’s new match. jake was never one to listen to rumors going around but he was particularly interested in this one, wondering if arabella had finally gotten through to lord and lady park.

“i hear the bride is the youngest daughter, y/n.” one of the cooks shared excitedly. jake froze. “where did you hear that?” he suddenly asked. “from the tailor that was fitting her dress. apparently they’re going to have a small, intimate ceremony at the church today-”

before she could finish her sentence, jake sprinted to the stables and began saddling the nearest horse.

he didn’t know what he was going to do once he arrived at the church, or even what would happen to him afterwards, but he didn’t care. he refused to stand by as you married someone else.

while at the church, you fiddled with your veil anxiously. arabella assured you that she would speak with sunghoon and catherine without mentioning anything about jake.

it was nearly time for the ceremony to begin and you were starting to worry that something had gone wrong.

suddenly, the door to the room you were in burst open, revealing catherine and arabella. “quick! give me your veil and remove your dress!” catherine ordered.

while rapidly exchanging clothes with your sister, arabella filled you in, “the couple agreed to our plan upon hearing about mine and jay’s story. sunghoon made a rather dramatic declaration of love to catherine before jay could even stand at the alter and luckily, our parents decided that these two were more deserving to be wed.”

you let out a huge sigh of relief. you were able to evade marriage with jay, but how much longer could you keep this lie up?

arabella led you down to the area where the ceremony would be held and within a few minutes, catherine made her way to the alter.

the two shared last-minute vows and right as the officiant asked if there were any objections the door to the church flew open.

“stop! stop the ceremony!” a disheveled jake panted. everyone in the room’s jaws flew open except your own. you didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed at his commitment to you in this very moment.

“what is the meaning of this, boy?” lord park boomed. “i’m in love with her, sir.” jake confessed, pointing at your veiled sister. you wanted to dig a hole in the ground and lay there.

jay coughed, nodding his head in your direction, prompting jake to make eye contact with you. as soon as he saw you, his mouth made an o-shape.

you couldn’t take it anymore, standing up dramatically and declaring “he meant me. he’s in love with me and I’m in love with him.”

just when you thought the situation couldn’t possibly worsen, your mother fainted.

at this point the church was a noisy, swarming mess. lady park and arabella attempted to calm your mother after she regained consciousness and became hysterical while your father had to be held back by his sons and lord park from attacking jake. catherine was sobbing in the corner and the officiant simply stared awestryck at the scene unfolding in front of him.

while everyone was distracted, you grabbed jake’s hand and ran out the church doors. the two of you mounted the horse he rode over and ran off in a random direction.

you looked back once to see everyone emerging from the church, frantically looking for you and jake.

“where are we going?” jake asked, clearly on edge. “keep going until we’re too far for them to catch us.” you ordered.

you ended up stopping nearby a small field. dismounting the horse, you noticed a large tear in his shirt. “how did that happen?” you asked, worried.

“your father ripped it open at the church.”

for some indescribable reason, that sentence alone made you both burst into laughter. perhaps it was the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

as jake laughed, you noticed how his nose slightly crinkled, how all his teeth showed, how his eyes closed and his head was thrown back childishly.

you realized just how much you had fallen for him, and how little you could care about your family’s blessings.

“i love you.” you blurted. you quickly placed your hands over your lips as if it would take back what you said. sure it had been implied before, but you had never said those three words to his face. to anyone’s face, really.

“i love you, too.” he whispered, now moving closer to you. the two of you shared a short kiss, breaking apart before leaning back in again.

this time the kiss was deeper, more passionate. his hands travelled to your lower back as yours cupped his jaw.

you felt yourself desperately moving more and more forward, still not feeling close enough to him. he pulled away first, leaving you gasping for air.

“what are we going to do?” he asked, out of breath. “we’re going to get married.” you responded firmly.

grabbing his hand, you hoisted yourself up on the horse once again, patting the seat behind you. “are you sure about this?” he asked, hesitant.

you nodded wordlessly as he seated himself beside you. you charged back in the direction you had just come from.

you, the girl who never cared for marriage, were now determined to fight for your right to marry the man of your dreams.

you made it back to the church within minutes, spotting your both enraged and confused family standing outside.

arabella saw you first, rushing over. “you should have left, y/n. father is going to murder the both of you.” she warned.

you ignored her, walking up to lord and lady park. before you could open your mouth, you felt a harsh grip on your arm, yanking you back, “not only have you sent your mother into a frenzy, you have bought immense shame upon our family with this illicit affair. i am disgusted to call you my daughter.” your father spat.

“don’t speak to her like that.” jake threatened, moving closer to your father.

“enough of this, lord l/n. i have an enormous headache from today. it is safe to say no arrangements will be made between our children. boys, let us leave at once.” lord park commanded.

neither jay nor sunghoon moved, prompting lord park to repeat himself. again, no reaction.

“oh for christ’s sake. i understand sunghoon being a bit hesitant but this girl is clearly not right for you jay-”

“i wish to marry arabella.” jay announced, “and i don’t care if she doesn’t meet your standards. i refuse to leave the church grounds until she is made my wife.”

“neither shall i until catherine and i are wed.” sunghoon chimed in.

“and neither will i until you give my hand to jake and only jake.” you challenged, looking your father in the eye.

“this is nonsense. what has gotten into you kids?” lady park objected. your mother fainted once again, but this time nobody seemed to pay her any mind.

the officiant peeked his head out from the door, “if you’d like, i can officiate the three weddings for the price of just two.”

you saw your father become visibly more upset at the mention of pricing and were reminded of the reason your parents were so adamant on getting you married in the first place.

“father, if arabella marries jay and catherine marries sunghoon, our income nearly doubles. we won’t have to worry about our finances any longer. what is stopping you then from allowing me to marry jake?” you plead, desperate.

“he is a servant. a stablehand, y/n. below a commoner. it was a grave error on your end to even look his way.” he scoffed.

“he’s no longer a servant of mine,” lord park added, rubbing his temples, “not after this mess.”

“then he is now a baker.” you quipped. “pardon me?” your father asked, irritated. “his family owns a bakery so therefore he is a baker. not a servant. i don’t see any reason as to why i cannot marry him now?”

“just let them bloody marry.” lady park cursed just as your mother came back to her senses, causing her to fall unconscious yet again.

“fine.” your father sighed, “but you will not be living on any of my estates.”

“i will give them one of mine.” jay interjected, patting jake on the shoulder.

after that, the ceremony continued. this time with three brides, two disgruntled father-in-laws, and a single annoyed lady (as the other is still passed out).

fast forward to a few months later, you and your parents have reconciled although your father is still weary of jake.

the two of you have settled into your new estate, courtesy of jay. jake is back to working at his family bakery, which has seen a large increase in profit. you also decided to appoint agatha as the head housekeeper in your new home.

jay and arabella are happily married, as are catherine and sunghoon. your family’s finances have improved greatly and you couldn’t be happier for your parents.

you reflected on how drastically your life has changed within the span of a year as you readied yourself for morning tea at arabella’s house.

you put on a simple purple dress and in the corner of your eye, saw the pearl set you wore the night you met jake. grabbing the earrings, you placed them carefully in your ears, reminiscing to yourself in the mirror.

suddenly your husband made his way into the bedroom, placing a firm kiss on your cheek before announcing his departure for work, a tradition the two of you now have.

wishing him luck, you shared one last embrace before you sent him off.

#jake sim #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #kpop reactions #enhypen reactions #enhypen jake #jake sim scenarios #sunghoon #jay

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luvrgirl555 · 1 year

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you're so fucking cool (warren rojas x reader)

3.2k words fem!afab!reader warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex an: send me requests or something. idk. insane lack of smut for all this guys on here. sickening. also this is based on the show not the book don't hate i don't read.

The sunshine was something that you were used to. Feeling the streams of light and heat soak into your skin was comforting. A lily of Southern California, it made you adept to warmth. Especially the humid warmth of rockstar house parties. Parties full of wine and cheese and sweaty dancing with men in fur coats and breaths filled with secondhand smoke.

You met Warren at one of these very parties. He knew the band, he said. You had no idea what band he was talking about, only attending the party in a short dress and thigh high boots to accompany your friend and her newfound semi-strange boyfriend.

He introduced himself to you. Asking you questions about yourself that weren’t obscenely sexual. Something that didn’t happen to you very often. Not in this social scene, anyway. You talked with him. Flirting back when he would flirt with you, and trying very hard to not blush when he did eventually compliment your legs.

He didn’t think you had noticed the glaringly obvious glances down to your breasts, but who was he kidding? Maybe he was a lot more high than he thought.

After that night, you’d been attending small parties and dinner dates with Warren for the past couple of weeks, at first so casually, almost as if you were friends more than you were fuck buddies.

What were you two?

Warren’s bandmates, Karen especially, constantly probed if he had asked you to be anything more than his 3am phone call and most consistent plus one in months.

It was something that you didn’t want to think too much about, thinking it a waste of mental energy to worry about what you could ever mean to a rockstar. You’d met so many, slept with so many and every one was the same as the last. You only had to make the mistake of wondering “what you were” with one or two of them before getting the message. You couldn’t wonder. It didn’t matter what you wanted to be, rockstars have to have an ego.

You could already tell Warren was different though, and that was confusing. He was so kind to you. It seemed genuine, and you couldn’t help but wonder and think about him on days that you weren’t with him.

Yes, there were the obvious reasons you never wanted him to leave your mind. He was gorgeous. No getting around that. He was one of the only men you had ever met who seemed to know what he was doing. Not only in his confidence about his band or about his move across the country but in his ability to make you cum.

All by himself.

It was as if someone had given him lessons, in which case, you wanted to send her a message of gratitude. You genuinely loved tangling your hands in his hair, you craved the feeling. Like you had placebo’d yourself into associating the texture of his hair on your fingers with the pleasure that would run down your legs and up your spine when he fucked you.

Now, whenever you kissed him while outside smoking, and a hand ran through his hair, your pussy would tingle in pleasure and you had to keep yourself from being so obvious and clenching your thighs together.

He picked you up from your apartment at around 9pm. It was dark, but humid and the air smelled like warmth and exhaust. He was riding in back of his bandmate, Eddie’s, car. You noticed a girl, you presumed Eddie’s date, was riding in the passenger seat when you got in the back with Warren.

“Hi!” He smiled as you got on and you smiled back.

“Hi, War. Hi Eddie!” You slid into the middle seat, rather than the right, so you could sit closer to Warren and he instinctually puts his arm around your back.

“Hi, Y/N,” Eddie puts his hand on the back of the passenger seat to look out of the back window and back at you to smile.

“This is my date, Catherine,” he glances at the girl in the passenger seat and you nod at her. She nods back and says, “Cat, actually,” with a small laugh.

The music turns up a bit and Cat and Eddie start talking. You finally look at Warren next to you and he gives you a big smile. He puts the cigarette between his fingers up to your lips and you take a drag before breathing the smoke into your lungs.

You had missed him. It was way too early into whatever this was to say that to him, but you had. You felt his rough, callused fingertips on your back, extremely close to your breast. He knew what he was doing.

You leaned into him. slowly placing your hands on his thigh that was next to you. You moved your fingers gently, slowly inching them higher as he laughed at you.

“I missed you,” he laughed.

You were caught off guard.

“You just saw me a couple of days ago,” you say, trying not to sound like you agreed with him as much as you truly did.

“Yeah, but you were wearing significantly less clothing then,” he winked, “You look really good.”

“So do you! This fur vest is incredible,” you complimented.

“I just got it! The single’s been doing amazing on the charts, man,” he says. You can tell he’s excited and by the way Eddie smiles in the rearview mirror, you can tell he’s excited too.

The drive isn’t too far. It’s to a house that Warren has never taken you to before. He gets out of the car first and you accept the hand he offers you to help you out before slamming the car door shut.

You hold his hand as he gets some drinks out of the trunk and switch to hooking your arm around his muscular one as you walk up to the entrance. Once inside, you’re almost immediately greeted by a slender woman with long brown hair who gives a hug to Warren, making you unhook your arm from his.

She introduces herself to you and gives you the most radiant smile that you think you’ve ever seen. You immediately trust her. After chatting for a bit, Warren leads you into the kitchen to pour you a drink which you accept immediately.

“Camila is Billy’s wife,” he explains while leading you through the sitting room filled with people.

“Oh, I get to meet the rest of your band tonight?” you ask.

“Hopefully!” His face lights up when he sees Graham and Karen cross the room to the two of you. “Here’s the rest of them!” He plants a firm hand on Graham’s back as Graham reaches a hand out to shake your and introduce himself. Karen nods her head at you, looking you up and down in a slightly drunk and mostly intimidating way. You and Warren talk with them until Karen asks Graham if he has a cigarette and Graham eagerly offers her one and they make their way across the room.

“Everyone is very nice.” You take a long drink from your glass and Warren looks at you thoughtfully.

“I’m really glad you’re finally getting to meet everyone,” he takes the empty glass from your hands and sets it on a nearby table.

“Me too,” you say and make the decision to wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him, not very hard, but his arms immediately reach around you and one hand lands on your low waist, while one lands on your ass. You deepen your kiss, curling one of your fingers in his hair. You pull away, breathing a bit before kissing him again, softer this time.

“We just got here,” he whispers in your ear, hints of a giggle on his breath.

“I thought you said you missed me,” you looked at him with wide eyes, blinking a couple times before pulling away from him, not before subtly grabbing at his crotch.

He gulped before catching your wrist in his hand.

“Follow me.”

He led you down a hallway and into a room that looks hardly slept in. Before you can even say a word, his hands are on your cheeks and his lips are pressing into yours.

“I can hardly stand seeing you wearing this dress anymore,” he unzips the back after pulling away from your face. Though the dress originally was low cut, when your tits pop out of the dress he has to keep himself from staring.

He starts grabbing at them with one hand while the other continues to pull your dress off your body. His lips reconnected with yours and his tongue is in your mouth. It’s moving more gently than his hand, which he uses to squish your tit in his fingers. You step out of your dress, which is now on the floor, in just your panties and boots, still kissing Warren. Your hand is on his arms and your eyes remain closed the entire time.

There’s a trust you have with Warren that you don’t typically have with other men. It’s so uncommon. You can’t explain any feeling that you have right now besides the wetness in your panties and the heat pooling in your stomach.

You start to push him back onto the bed, until he’s sitting on the edge and you’re immediately squatting down to undo his belt buckle and pull his pants and boxers down. His cock is hard, you can’t tell for how long but by the small whimper you hear from Warren’s throat you can guess it’s been more than a minute.

You immediately place a warm hand around the base while gathering saliva in your mouth. His hands find your hair as you lick the precum from his tip.

“Holy shit,” he breathes as you lick from the tip of his cock down the bottom and back up again. You place the head in your mouth and swirl your tongue around the top.

The precum tastes salty and warm. You bob your head around his dick for a couple of seconds, feeling a little bit of saliva pool on the edges of your mouth. He grabs you by your hair gently and pulls your mouth off his cock. You open your eyes, having them closed previously in concentration.

With the lack of warmth to the rest of your body, your nipples have become hard and sensitive, he gently moves his fingers around your breast, making you breathe shakily.

“Hey,” he smiles and you smile back, bashfully.

You put his dick back in your mouth, forcefully and he lets out a quiet moan before leaning back and saying, “You’re so fucking good at this.”

The compliment heats your core and start gently pulling at the base of his cock while moving your head backwards and forwards at the same speed.

He starts breathing a little heavier when you take the tip out of your mouth while a soft popping sound. You stand as he sits back up a bit and start to take your boots off. He watches you bend over, your ass facing him and your thong giving him a view of the entire thing. He licks at his lips, giddy, and feeling something that he doesn’t normally let himself feel about women he sleeps with.

When your boots are off you turn back to him. Your instincts want you to cover yourself with your hands, but you resist. He’s so happy you do and he reaches a hand out to you and pulls you to sit on his lap. He immediately notices the wetness on your panties between your legs and smiles.

His fingers, callused and rough slide their way down your stomach and into your panties. He fumbles a bit before finding your clit, but when he does, he knows and immediately you wish you could cross your legs because he’s rubbing at your wet clit and you’re breathing a lot more heavily than you were before.

You kiss him again, and he kisses back. Your arm snakes its way around his back and you tug on the curls, moaning a bit into his mouth as you pull and he smiles between wet kisses. He lays you down close to the center of the bed after pulling his fingers out of your panties and licking them clean with his tongue.

You stare as he pulls the fur vest off of his body, tossing it way more flippantly than he probably should, considering how much you think he bought it for.

You can more clearly see his chest hair, thin but covering his chest in soft curls and leading downward to his belly. You hum, delighted, when he lowers himself onto you and kisses you softly. Immediately taking your hands and rubbing them up and down on his chest. Just as you suspected, his skin is soft, smooth and warm. Slightly damp from the sweat, but it’s not as if you probably feel any different.

Warren swirls his tongue in your mouth. Thick sounds of kissing and the bed squeaking are all you can hear as you reach down his chest to his happy trail and below to gently pull on his hard cock as you kiss. He begins to kiss at your check then neck, stopping to suck right below your collarbones. He kisses your body between moans as you pull gently at his cock, only stopping to spit into your hands to lube them.

He shudders and stops where he’s sucking at your chest when you begin to roll your thumb over the tip.

“Y/N,” he breaths heavily.

You look up at him, the same big eyes you used when talking to him back in the living room.

His hands wander to the panties around your pussy. He feels them on your hips and starts pulling them down gently. You let him pull them as far he can and he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Your mouth gapes, breathing softly for air.

His eyes and your lips are full of desire. His hand reaches up to your mouth as he sticks his pointer and middle finger in your open mouth. You close your mouth with him and lick around his fingers, in swirls, the same way you just had is cock in your mouth.

You can feel his slender fingers in your entrance and you let out a small grunt, leaning back slightly to find a more comfortable position. You take a deep breath when you feel his nose and mustache tickle at this skin of your pussy. His fingers go deeper and it takes everything in you not to let a moan when his tongue finds your clit. That same swirling motion that you’ve used countless times on him, he uses on your clit and while your legs bend open and apart your hands again find his curls. His mustache rubs on your skin and you hum and breathe his name.

He smiles against you and he begins fucking you with his fingers. His long, slender fingers. His strong, pretty fingers. You can hardly take it until you’re pushing against his face with your hips. Your eyes close instinctually, focusing intently on the pleasure in your hips, your mind swimming in ecstasy.

“You’re so good at this.” You repeat his compliment from before and he pops his head up between your legs. He pulls his fingers from inside you and immediately you sit up slightly.

“I want you to fuck me, Warren,” you say with insistence.

He grins.

You quickly place a pillow underneath your hips as he leans over you once again, your eyes connecting and you begin to listen to the party outside the door for just a moment, remembering where you are.

It all feels so separate from this. From you. From him. From your togetherness.

You begin notice how little you’ve noticed anybody else tonight, which makes you feel a bit guilty considering a lot of them mean a lot to Warren. But you are so infatuated with him. You haven’t let yourself believe it until now, but you truly haven’t thought of a single other thing all night other than how much you want him.

Not just in a sexual way, but in the way that you want to be his.

Your legs spread, rather than when they would usually go on Warren’s shoulders. He leans down and begins to kiss you again, this time softly, warmly. You can taste your pussy on his lips. He rubs one of your arms while propping himself up with just his other. He pulls away to situate himself and position his cock at the entrance of your pussy.

He pushes in slowly and feels how tight you are around him.

“Is this okay?” he asks and you nod while whispering yes.

He pushes deeper and you instinctually let out a big breath, closing your eyes and feeling him pull out slowly.

“Deeper,” you say. He laughs a bit before going deeper and pulling back and forth. The more comfortable you get, the more of a rhythm he gets into. He is unsurprisingly great at rhythm and you start to squeeze at his dick as he pulls it back and forth. You kiss at his cheek that’s above you and move your hips in rhythm with him. He moans and whines as you try hard not to do the same.

“‘re so wet,” he whines to you and you moan softly.

“You’re so big,” you say sweetly and he shudders, trying to control how badly he wants to come.

You’re not lying. His cock makes you feel so full. You’re so warm and can smell him above you. You can hear sloshing as you reach down and begin to rub at your clit, accidentally bucking your hips forward into him and making his cock go deeper.

You close your eyes and breathe in pleasure.

“Warren,” you whine.

He continues to fuck you deeper, hitting your g-spot in rhythm with how you’re rubbing at your clit.

“I love when you say my name. ‘m so close,” he whimpers and you squeeze tighter on his cock.

“Warren,” you breathe louder.

He moans as pleasure begins to wash over you, paralyzing your legs from movement and squeezing on his cock tightly. He groans as he pulls his dick out from you quickly.

You’re breathe heavy as it feels as though, for just a moment, all the anxiety and pain in your body and leave and you’re washed with pleasure and warmth. You shiver as you feel warm streaks of cum cover your stomach and tits. You become aware of Warren’s breathing above you and impulsively take your hand, rub your finger along your stomach and put the cum covered finger in your mouth. He watches you intensely and immediately kisses you.

“You’re so fucking cool,” he says when pulling away.

You grin at him.

“I like you,” you say.

“I obviously like you, girl,” he says, as if it’s old news.

You look away shyly and he grabs your cheek, turning you back towards him before kissing you intently.

#warren rojas #warren rojas smut #warren rhodes #daisy jones and the six #the six #daisy jones & the six #warren rojas x reader

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blaxcunicorn · 3 months

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Happy Wedding Night

Heeey! I just wrote something random as king Eren never leaves my mind! I hope you guys enjoy it, I might have gone a bit overboard with it but oh well haha. If you guys have any more suggestions on what I can write please let me know!

Content: fem!reader, NSFW warning, arrange marriage, enemies to lovers (kinda), brat taming, degrading, spanking, a bit of humiliation.

The flickering candlelight painted a warm glow across the opulent chamber as you nervously fidgeted with the lace of your white sleeping gown. Avery and Catherine, two of your most trusted maids, were freshening you up for the wedding night. "Darling, take a deep breath. You're a vision," Catherine said, trying to ease up the tension in the room. Avery, on the other hand, addressed the elephant in the room. “I can’t believe that we are giving away Marley’s only heir to an usurper.” She said behind her teeth. “I know it’s not ideal, but this marriage was his idea. He is the one in power, my father accepted it in order to keep us alive so that we don’t end up like the Reiss.” You whispered the last part as your eyes started to sting.

Your now husband had couped Eldia and overthrown the Reiss family. Your families were great allies, and your father declared war on Eldia in order to restore the Reiss, but after two years of war, you had to surrender to the Eldians after the battle of Shiganshina. “I understand, but the fact that that usurper now rules Eldia and Marley makes my blood boil.” Catherine hushed her “He might show up any time soon. Please don’t give the devil any reason to behead us.” She whispered, packing her stuff to leave. She whispered a small good luck before exiting the room. You grabbed Avery’s hand as comfort as you knew that she was about to leave next. Avery brings a small dagger out of her pocket. “Use this if it becomes necessary.” She said before leaving.

You hurried up to the bed and hid the dagger under the pillow as you heard steps getting louder outside the door. “Ugh, I hate weddings” your husband, said as he walked into your chamber. He went straight to the table and poured himself some wine. “Who would have thought that standing around in these uncomfortable clothes for six hours, would be disgusting for a groom.” You let out a small giggle as you never thought that the Eren Jeager would be complaining like a little boy. Eren raises his eyebrow while trying to hide his smile. “The look on Johan’s face as he offered me his sincere congratulations, that on the other hand was entertaining.” Your smile vanished the split second he mentioned your knight. “I mean, it's funny since I was the one taking his arm during the battle of Shiganshina.” Your heart dropped. “It doesn’t matter what we think. To you, we are just foreigners or, well, now, your subjects. I’m just one of your war trophies alongside Johan’s… arm.” You whispered the last part. “Wine? You haven’t had a sip all night.” He said, pouring you a glass while ignoring what you just said.

He hands you the glass “Oh, by the way, princess, can you please hand me the dagger underneath your pillow.” You were stunned. How did he know? You slowly hand him the dagger. “What’s wrong, princess? Why are you giving your husband that look?” He said, almost taunting. “What look?” You asked nervously. “The look as I’m still your enemy, which I’m not becoming as I’m your husband now.” He said, dowing the wine. “Which is something I don’t understand. Why make yourself part of the peace bargain? Why marry into a defeated royal family?” You asked, sipping the wine. “You can’t be that out of touch with reality. In order to control Marley after the war, I need to unite the kingdoms. What’s a better way to unite two kingdoms than marriage?” He said, leaning on the counter.

“Don’t look so sour. You are now king of both Eldia and Marley, and I…will forever be your queen. How pathetic is that? I was the heir to an entire kingdom and a war leader. That was my birthright. Now I’m reduced to an accessory of yours, oh, and your breeding cow too, let’s not forget about that. ” You said, rolling your eyes. “Is that so?” Eren smirked as he now stood next to the bed. “Drop the attitude right now, I’m the most powerful person in either kingdoms. I can make your life very difficult with every word of mine. I can take mistresses to our bed, I can start rumours, I can stir up revolts against Marley. I can potentially use suppers to sleep in your bed and mothering your children…That’s one option.”

He grabbed your hand gently to help you out of the bed. You were now facing him, you felt so small compared to him. You can tell that he has been on the battlefield with his physique. He leaned in your ears and whispered, “Because I can also be your greatest ally, your most faithful partner, your protector, your confidant, your advocate, your right hand, I can kill for you, I can lie for you, I can go to war for you, I can give you children that are strong, kind and cleaver and love their mother more than life itself, together we can start a dynasty that can last a thousand years…All I ask in return is that you submit to me…love me…even if you have to fake it.” He cupped your cheeks and stared into your eyes. “I want to be the king, of this bedroom, of your body and of your mind. I don’t want to share my power with anyone else, am I understood? Your family are alive because I allowed it, so in return, I want to have you whenever I want and however I want. ” You nodded as you were too stunned to speak. “Out there, you’ll be my equal, but in here, you’ll be my whore, my concubine, my goddess. Whichever I feel like…So do we have an arrangement?” He asked, kissing your right hand.

“Yes” you whispered, defeated, as he brought you in for a warm hug. “Now, let’s get you out of this dress.” He whispered, using the dagger to rip the back of the dress. You let out a tiny yelp as you felt the cold tip of the dagger run down softly on your back. The dress slid off easily, and you were now standing naked in front of your husband. “Oh, your subjects were right, you are beautiful,” he said, walking around you to observe your body. “Now come here, give me a kiss.” He said, making the notion with his index finger. As the obedient wife you were trying to be, you walked up and gave him a kiss. “Good girl, now get on your knees. Kneel princess, you are the only Marlian that hasn’t kneeled for me yet.” You sat down on your knees “Oh, so you can follow orders. Looking at you down there makes me hard. Now, take it out.” His comment made your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You have never in your life felt so humiliated…so small.

He grabbed your cheeks between his hand “Don’t play innocent. What was your young knight’s name again…sir Johan?” Your eyes widen, how did he know about your affair with him? “That’s good. I expect you to suck your king’s cock better than some pretty knight. Oh, and also, I meant it when I said I want to be the king of your body and mind.” He said, groaning the last sentence. “Yes,” you said quietly as you unbuckled his pants. “That’s it, between those full lips.” He whispered as you took his veiny cock in your mouth. “Ah, what a good royal whore you are. Take it deeper.” He commanded while smirking. You bopped your head up and down, taking in as much of him as possible “Just like that…If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re enjoying yourself.” He groaned, grabbing your hair and making you gag. “Just like that, I love seeing you gag like that.” He groaned. You were drooling as he was assaulting your throat. “Look at me with those pretty eyes.” He demanded. Your teary eyes met his “God, you look so beautiful. Just like that…This is where you belong. On your knees, taking my cock like the good whore you are.” He said, groaning and you started to rub your clit, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Eren.

“Fuck, get on the bed now.” He demanded, pulling his cock out of your mouth. You hurried up to the bed on your hands and knees. “Oh, look at you. Is this how you want our first night to be? Me fucking you like a whore? I bet your knight wouldn’t dare to do something like that.” He smirked. You arched your back, and Eren took the invitation. You hissed as he slowly entered you and yelped as he pounded aggressively into you. “Look at that little cunt, dripping on me. Fuck take it, princess.” He moaned. You were a moaning mess, he was fucking you dumb. Eren could feel you stretch around him, which riled him up. “Turn around, look at your husband.” He commanded, and you turned your head to face him. “To stunned to speak now, you probably needed someone to tame you like the bratty bitch you are.” He groaned, spanking your ass twice, making you scream. “Rub your clit, I want you to cum on your enemy’s cock, on your husband’s cock. So that you know that you belong to me.” You drew circles on your clit, Eren groaned as you clenched around his cock as you came. He flipped you on your back. He wanted you to kiss him, you could read it all over his face. You leaned over and kissed him carefully, he grabbed your throat and kissed you passionately using his tongue. “Remember this, you are mine. I’m your king. You want that, don’t you?” He whispered. You could only nod. “That’s right, my darling, I’ll fuck you again. This time I’ll breed you”, he said, hovering over you and sliding his cock inside of you. He lifts your legs and positions each of them around him. He pounds into you but is way more gentler than the first time. Eren could get used to this, loved seeing your boobs bounce to the rhythm of him. He grabbed your throat again and kissed you, you moaned in his mouth as you could feel his cum filling you up. He rolled over, catching his breath. He turned to his sides and kissed your forehead “Happy wedding night, my queen.”

#eren jeager x you #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x black reader #eren jeager x black reader #snk smut #snk x y/n #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #aot x you #aot smut

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humanpurposes · 10 months

Text

Just for a moment, part iii

Tom Bennett has a habit of climbing through her bedroom window whenever he's in trouble // Main Masterlist

Tom Bennett x OFC

Warnings: 18+, mentions of war and death, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, Tom Bennett's daddy issues

Words: 5400

A/n: Also available to read on AO3.

Monday 27th May, 1940

The morning starts off with a miserable drizzle. Kitty watches the grey fade to warmth through her shift, until the early evening sun shines brightly through the wide windows of the shop.

The month of May has very much been the same, cold and wet at first, but the weather has been clearing up nicely. Dad is devoted to the garden now, digging up the grass and planting vegetables in every free space he can. It’s on posters all over the shop: Dig For Victory. Live off spuds and SPAM when the rations run out.

Life feels mechanical; most days she doesn’t feel like a real person at all. All week she stands behind the counter, exchanging coupons for pitiful amounts of tea and sugar, stocking up the rack of newspapers and skimming over whatever horrors the headlines are screaming about that day. When she gets home, she pulls together some kind of dinner from what food they have while dad sits by the wireless. When mam gets home from the munitions factory, they gather around the table and eat in silence.

The house is so quiet without the boys. The only time it feels a little lively is when they get a letter from one of them, but they aren’t very consistent, especially considering there’s three of them.

Every so often, she gets a letter from Tom Bennett, but she tends to keep those to herself.

Her life has become a waiting game, she realises, existing between brief moments of happiness with nothing but her memories to entertain herself. She finds herself thinking about Tom an awful lot. It’s not so bad during the day when she has something to do, but when she lies alone at night, her mind can wander. She still leaves her window unlocked and huddles close to the wall because maybe— just maybe, he’ll come through the window and fill the space beside her.

Once she’s packed up the register and put up the shutters, she waves goodbye to Mr Gregory and leaves him to lock the door.

She runs into the postman at the top of Slade Grove. She feels slightly less guilty for not remembering his name when he greets her as “Catherine.” It’s what her teachers at school used to call her, and it’s what mam calls her when she’s in a particularly foul mood. Now it just puts her on edge.

“Can I give these to you now?” he says, handing her a stack of three envelopes. “Saves me a house later on.”

She flicks through them as she carries on walking. Two are addressed to Michael Wheelan and they look boring, letters from the bank or something official, but upon seeing the third she stops and smiles.

Miss Catherine Wheelan 28 Slade Grove Longsight, Manchester United Kingdom

It’s written in Tom’s handwriting.

She tears it open immediately, her eyes flickering between the page and the street ahead, weaving through any passersby.

Dear Kitty,

Sorry it’s been a while since the last one. Morale hasn’t been the best to be honest. Do you know what they’re calling the last eight months now? “The phoney war”. Apparently things are only going to get worse from here, not that it’ll help your nerves.

Thanks for checking up on dad for me. I do worry about him being on his own, with Lois being away and all. I wonder if she’ll be back yet by the time you get this. Have you heard much from your lads? I hope they’re doing alright.

You’ll be pleased to know I haven’t been picking as many fights, but sure you know me, sometimes I can’t help myself. I’ve been reading over what you said. I know it’s not helpful, I know it’s stupid, but then I’ve never been one to think things through, have I? I suppose that’s not much of an excuse. It’s instinctive. It’s like my head tells me what I’m doing is wrong, but I don’t know what else to do.

And we could die any day. Kitty, the state I’ve seen some of these men in…

The writing becomes crooked and trails off, ending with a smudge of ink.

Maybe I should write about something less depressing? Did I tell you about this gorgeous bird I met at Port Stanley?

Kitty’s heart drops.

Beautiful thing she is. The moment I saw her I knew I had to have her, so I stowed her away and brought her on board with me. She whistles a lot, and she has these lovely yellow feathers that really brighten up the bunk. She’s a noisy eater though, munches on seeds like she’ll never eat again. I’ve named her Vera.

I can see the look on your face now. Don’t worry, pretty Kitty, there’s no other bird that could ever replace you.

“Charming,” she mutters to herself.

I think I quite like these letters really, it’s nice to give myself a moment to think, even if I can’t hear from you straight away. That’s when I miss you the most, right after I’ve sealed the envelope and written your address. I hate the waiting.

She glances up, seeing she’s only a few doors down from her house.

I should have leave coming up soon. I’m looking forward to putting my legs on dry land and sleeping on a proper mattress…

She checks the top of the page. The letter is dated from weeks ago. “Soon” could mean anything.

… and the odd late-night tryst to see my fancy woman at number 28.

She scoffs a small laugh.

I bet you’d slap me for that. God I hope your mum doesn’t get her hands on this before you. Ey up Mrs Wheelan, see what I meant was, your Kitty’s a very well-mannered lady.

She purses her lips in an attempt not to laugh, coming to stop before her own front door.

Take care of yourself Kitty. Don’t spend too much time fretting over me.

Your dear friend,

Tom Bennett

Her smile fades quickly— why shouldn’t she worry about him?

It’s always the same with letters from Tom. Her heart leaps and for a few brief moments she feels so bright, just to have some kind of news from him. She could read pages and pages of his stupid ramblings and his moments of sincerity, but then it’s over all too soon. He signs off as her dear friend, then suddenly the words on the page are no longer new, and he’s still thousands of miles away, picking fights with his crewmates and launching shells at German ships.

The days pass slowly, but when she stops and looks back, the eight months have felt like nothing. Her life is flying past her and she hardly even notices, too caught up in the memory of those nights in September.

All for him to call her his fancy woman and feed her jokes about birds.

She knows better than to get her hopes up with Tom; she’s seen him go through every crush he’s ever had. He used to go through phases of ditching her for whichever sweetheart he was entertaining at the time, only to come crawling back to her when he’d inevitably cock it all up. Because he’s Tom Bennett, and he can’t help but make a mess of everything.

And like a good friend, she always kept her window unlocked for him, always held him when he needed it and did her best to set him straight. Because that’s what friends are supposed to do, surely, and he never said they were more.

Is that truly all she is to him? A dear friend, a listening ear and a convenient shag.

She rubs her fingers over her eyes because she will not cry over Tom Bennett. With the letter back in its envelope, she puts it into her bag and tries to find her keys, when she notices the smell of cigarette smoke. It’s hardly a rarity, but it makes her think of him.

For whatever reason, she glances over her shoulder at number 27. Low and behold, she sees a man with a cocky smile in a tight, white t-shirt, leaning in the doorway, lowering a cigarette from his mouth.

“Alright, pretty Kitty?” Tom says. “Was waiting for you to notice me–”

Suddenly she’s flying across the street and flinging her arms around his neck. She stands on her tiptoes to put her head over his shoulder and he leans into her, holding one arm over her back and one around her waist.

She closes her eyes. His breath is hot against her neck. He is here. He is real. He is more than a memory or words on a page.

Tom presses a soft kiss to her temple and she feels him smiling against her skin. “Take it you missed me then?”

She pulls away, holding back the urge to cry again, hardly able to catch her breath. This close, she can see every detail of him this close, the texture of his skin, the lines around his mouth and brows, the circles under his eyes, the scruff along the sides of his jaw, the little cleft on the tip of his nose. “Maybe a little bit,” she says.

She gives a little yelp of surprise when she feels him pulling her into the house. He closes the door behind them and then her back is against the wall, her handbag dropped by her feet.

Tom shrugs her coat from her shoulders before he surges in to kiss her, fiercely, desperately. Their bodies are tangled in one another, her hands in his hair, his tracing over the curves of her body through her dress.

And then he moves away. She tries to follow him only to realise he’s smirking.

“Missed me just a little bit?” he teases.

She wants to roll her eyes, but she just smiles. “Quite a bit.”

He drags his thumb over her lower lip, pulling it down to watch it come back into place.

Kitty huffs impatiently as she nudges her nose up into his.

Their eyes meet and the anticipation lasts a lifetime.

Tom hums as he leans in to kiss her again, slower and deeper, pressing her a little further into the wall by the firm hold on her waist.

“Missed you,” he utters between kisses, “so fucking much.”

She runs her hands over every part of him she can reach, his neck, the sharp line of his jaw, over his ears and into his hair.

“How long have you been back?” she breathes.

“Since this morning,” he says, coming to kiss her neck, the spot he knows will have her back arching against him.

“You didn’t come to the shop,” she says.

“Wanted to wait for you.”

She glances down the hallway, to the seemingly empty kitchen.

Tom huffs and pulls away from her, leaning with one hand against the wall. “Dad’s flogging his paper. Lois is out. Empty house for a few hours.”

She turns her head back to face him, pleased at the flush in his cheeks and the mess she’s made of his hair.

Tom’s eyes look down to her waist, where he presses his thumb into the fabric of her dress. “Come upstairs,” he says lowly, “I want to fuck you properly.”

She nods mindlessly, closing her hand around his as he leads her up the stairs, to a bedroom with two single beds, separated by a curtain. The room is about the same size as the boys’ bedroom in her house, but with only two beds, there’s enough space for two separate wardrobes. Her brothers make do with sharing everything.

Nothing about the room denotes Tom Bennett, not the floral wallpaper or the knitted throws on the beds. Not the books, perfume bottles and silver candelabras on the mantle, and certainly not the lingering scent of hairspray.

He leads her to the bed furthest from the door. She follows the stream of sunlight coming in from the window, and then she notices the details that are his. The ashtray and the empty beer bottle on the bedside table, the ditty bag and the pairs of boots at the foot of the bed, and the sailor’s hat left on the floor by the wardrobe.

The door closes and his footsteps tread softly behind her. His hands snake around her waist and turn her to face him.

She places her hands on his chest, running her hands over his torso, mapping his body through the soft cotton t-shirt. He feels firmer than he used to, a consequence of loading shells into guns and living off rations. She feels along his arms too, over muscles, veins, tendons and the scar below his bicep.

Tom presses a kiss to her forehead before he starts to undo the buttons on the front of her dress. A familiar restlessness rises in her belly, and suddenly she thinks she can’t bear to wait another moment. With the buttons undone, she puts her hands over Tom’s as he slides the dress down to the floor, along with her stockings and quickly slips out of her shoes.

She wastes no time unclasping her brassiere and muffles Tom’s awestruck groan by pressing her lips to his.

Somehow he manages to rid himself of his t-shirt and slacks without parting from her for too long, and he guides them both to the bed. She giggles as he lands on top of her and the metal bedframe squeaks.

“Now,” Tom says, pressing a delicate kiss to her neck. “Don’t have to worry about being quiet like we usually do, do we?”

“No…” Kitty breathes as he moves down, dragging his lips and tongue down her body. When he comes to her breasts, he cups one with his hand, and takes the other nipple in his mouth. Her head rolls back against the pillows but she brings her eyes back to him. She wants to cling to every moment, every sensation, all the movements of his tongue against her skin and his hair falling in front of his face.

“Eight fucking months,” he half growls as he moves further down, kissing along her stomach and running his hands over her hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She instinctively bites her lip when he ghosts his lips over her clothed cunt.

He tuts. “Don’t hold back on me now, sweetheart. I want to hear how much you missed me,” he says, curling his fingers around the hem of her underclothes before dragging them along her legs, leaving them somewhere on the floor.

He trails teasing kisses along her thighs. She squirms and whines every time he edges closer to her centre, until finally, he drags his tongue through her folds, from her entrance, up to her pearl with a deliciously agonising pressure. She doesn’t hold back the moans that sound in her throat, curling her fists through the bedsheets.

He works over her pearl with his tongue and lips, groaning against her as he does it and squeezing his fingertips into the flesh of her thighs.

It’s been so long since she’s felt like this, even on the nights when she felt herself getting too desperate, she can never quite match the feeling.

In a way it infuriates her that he can make her feel so good, but what’s worse than that is that he knows it. She can see his smug, half smile as he mouths at her cunt, so pleased at the noises she makes and the way her hips are starting to move against him.

She curls in on herself as her peak washes over her, but he manages to hold her down, right where he wants her, and keeps going until her whole body shudders and her legs are quivering.

“Fuck,” she breathes, “Tom…”

Even then he doesn’t give her much of a reprieve. He moves back for a moment before he positions her legs over his shoulders. His tongue is against her again, only now he moves lower, teasing over her entrance.

She whines impatiently.

“Fucking greedy, aren’t you?” Tom chuckles. He licks over her again— too much and not enough. “Just take it, take what I give you.”

But it doesn’t take long for him to slip his tongue inside her while his nose nudges against her. His name is a dreamy chant on her lips now. The pleasure rises and burns until she’s sure she can’t take anymore. She threads her fingers into his hair, gripping at it, urging him on, just a little more, and she’s sure she’ll fall apart.

Then he’s gone without warning, but he soon compensates the loss by replacing his tongue with a single finger.

Tom gazes up at her through his lashes. He keeps his eyes on her face as he pushes inside of her, deeper, deeper, until she takes a sharp intake of breath when he finds her sweet spot.

“Give me another one,” he groans, lowering his head down to circle his tongue over her. “Come on, pretty Kitty.”

She follows it like a command. Her second peak is sharper than the first and has her gasping for breath as she feels herself come undone around him.

“There you go,” Tom grins as he brings her legs from his shoulders and starts to make his way up her body.

He props himself over her, one hand on either side of her head. His silver chain, usually hidden below his shirt, dangles in front of her as their eyes meet. They breathe together, chests rising and falling in perfect unison.

He hesitates for a moment, before he places a lazy kiss to her lips. “God,” he utters, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, do you know that?”

“Just keep saying it,” she says.

He takes one of her hands and guides it down to his briefs. She traces her fingers over the hem before she slides underneath and wraps them around his already hard cock.

“Fuck—” Tom hisses through his teeth, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight. He reaches for the bedside table and hands her a condom. “Do the honours for me,” he grins.

She tears it open and reaches back down to slide it along his length.

Slowly, he lets his weight fall against her as he slides inside of her, burying his face into her neck and letting out a shaky breath against her skin.

She brings her arms around his shoulders as he rocks into her, gently at first, but she can feel that it’s not enough. His breaths are getting sharper and his thrusts harsher as he whimpers into her neck.

She holds him as tightly as she can, hoping it will somehow soothe the ache in her heart, because she still feels the absence of the last eight months. Because she can already feel the time slipping away.

Tom withdraws from her neck. “Look at me,” he pleads.

She does, and he brings his forehead to hers. His nose presses into hers and their lips barely brush over each other.

“You feel so good,” he says. His expression fades into something darker and more determined as he fucks her harder and faster, “so fucking tight.”

She feels it too, the urgency to make up for the time and the distance with a carnal need.

They reach their climaxes together, moaning into each other’s mouths and keeping their bodies tight together. It never feels close enough.

Once they’ve caught their breath and they feel their desire mounting again, Tom lies back on the bed and brings her to straddle him.

While the position isn’t unfamiliar, the movements are, but she’s eager enough, gauging both of their reactions as she grinds her hips against his. She goes slowly, at first, bracing herself against him while Tom keeps hold of her waist to guide her movements.

“Nice and slow, just like that,” he whispers, gazing up at her with a slight smile, “show me how much you missed me.”

She doesn’t care how the bed creaks under them, that she’s breathing and moaning too loudly. There’s something freeing and unashamed about how they fuck. Seeing Tom’s face twisted in pleasure and hearing his needy whines as he starts to buck his hips to match her movements.

And when another climax tears through her, she wishes she could drag the moment out forever.

Tom takes her in his arms as they collapse back on the bed.

She feels like she’s dreaming, not quite awake but still aware of whose arms are cradled around her, whose heartbeat she feels against her ear, who reaches for a packet of cigarettes and flicks his lighter.

They talk about things they’ve already discussed over letters, the bloody war and all the misery that comes with it. Life in Longsight seems dull in comparison to Tom’s tales of sea battles and antics on board the Exeter. But even in the middle of the Atlantic, in the midst of a war that’s consuming the whole world, he still found time to wind everybody up. She can’t tell if she hates him or admires him for it.

There’s something different about him. Where he used to sound so cocksure and carefree, his voice is duller.

Tucked under his shoulder, she shifts her head to get a better look at him, propped up against the pillows, taking drags from his cigarette, pouting his lips as he exhales the smoke and tapping the ash into the tray. Her eyes tell her it’s the same person, the same jaw, the same nose, the same lips, the same shade of blue in his eyes.

No… he looks different in the way his face falls. He seems less smug than he used to be. He seems tired, older, colder.

Of course he’s different, how could he not be? The war has reached every corner of the world, but he’s been in the thick of it.

“Your dad must be glad to have you back,” she says quietly.

Tom’s body tenses underneath her. He brings his cigarette to his lips again, giving a little irritated huff as he exhales. She wonders if that’s a thread she should avoid tugging on, but it already seems to be unraveling. He reaches to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray.

“I didn’t want to go back,” he mutters, his expression stern and sad. “I thought I was doing the right thing by going. I’ve spent enough of my life making a mess of everything, I thought if I did something good then…” he glances down at her, then shakes his head. “But I was so fucking scared—” his voice breaks his eyes are glistening.

Kitty sits up and clenches her hand around his. He’s trembling.

“You’re alright,” she says, softly, “you’re alright.”

He breathes quickly and she can feel his heart thundering in his chest. His descriptions of the attacks on the Exeter and the aftermaths had been brief, which she thought must have been a way to protect her from it on his part. Maybe he didn’t want it in writing, maybe he didn’t want to think about it once he had lived it, to be surrounded by fire, smoke and death at every turn.

“I thought dad would help me. I told him I didn’t want to go back, I thought he could help me somehow.”

“And what did he say?”

His nostrils flare as he huffs again. “He thinks it’ll be a bad look for the movement. He doesn’t think I’m genuine.”

Kitty strokes her thumb over his knuckles and his fingers tighten around hers.

“For a moment I thought he’d be pleased,” he says, his voice thick and coarse, “just for a moment.

She breathes through the tight feeling in her chest. “Maybe if you spoke to him again—”

“No,” he says bitterly. “Made up his mind now. Sure, what does it matter either way? I’m not much use here.”

The light feeling in her limbs is starting to fade. She feels solid and heavy where her body meet the mattress.

“Your dad needs you,” Kitty says, “and Lois.”

He scoffs.

“Don’t tell me you’re upset with her too?”

Tom frowns. “Stupid fucking mistake. What does she think she’s going to do now?”

“She told you then?”

“She sent a letter.”

Lois had called in a few weeks ago to tell them the news. Mam already had her suspicions, even though Lois was barely showing. She and dad were horrified, but of course they didn’t make that clear until after she had left. “A baby on the way and no husband, for shame.”

“She knows it was stupid, but she’s not asking anyone else to deal with the consequences,” Kitty says.

“All because she wanted to mess around with some posh boy.”

Kitty swallows down the dry feeling in her throat. “I don’t think what she did was much different to me and you.”

Tom looks down at her with wide eyes. “Me and you are different,” he says.

“How so?”

His lips shift, like he might say something, but he doesn’t. “I don’t know, I thought Lois was more sensible than this.”

“She’s certainly not done herself any favours, but you won’t help by being angry at her.”

“But she’s always been the responsible one, you know?”

“That’s not fair, Tom, she’s your sister not your mother.”

Tom stares up at the ceiling with his lips parted. “No… I suppose not.”

He turns his head into her. “I should never have gone in the first place.”

There’s lots of things that she thinks she would want to change. Sometimes she wishes Tom wasn’t so reckless and impulsive. She wishes he’d find an interest that wouldn’t end him up in trouble with the police. She wishes he really was a pacifist, and that way he would be here, and the only thing separating them would be a single street and two windows. It hurts to think of what could have been.

But those things cannot be changed, and even then, he wouldn’t be him. He wouldn’t be the Tom Bennett she’s adored for as long as she’s had memories of him.

She shifts against him, hooking her arm over her chest and her leg over his hips. “I know things are hard,” she says. “Just don’t leave them on a bade note. You’ll regret it if you do.”

They don’t speak for a while. The evening drags on, the sun dips lower in the sky, voices and the shouts of children sound from the street and Kitty is content lie beside him, listening to his heartbeat and his slow, controlled breaths, while he plays with her hair.

“I love you,” he breathes, so softly she thinks it might be a voice in her head. “When we got hit, it was all I could think about. That I might die then and there, and you’d never know.”

She feels her mouth break into a smile. “You love me?”

“Oh leave off, I’ve said it now,” he says with a grin.

They dress and he leads her downstairs to the kitchen. While he fusses with the kettle, Kitty takes a seat at the table.

“You’ve not met Vera yet,” Tom says over his shoulder, nodding at the small birdcage on the table. Inside, a little, yellow canary with black, beady eyes tilts her head and chirps.

“Hello, Vera,” Kitty says.

Vera chirps back.

Tom turns back around with a single cup of tea and a plate of toast. “Have to be stingy with the butter and milk, obviously,” he says setting them in front of her.

“Oh,” she says, “no, I won’t have any, don’t waste your rations on me.”

Tom angles his brows at her. “It’s not a waste.” He takes a seat in the chair opposite and lights a cigarette. “Come on, you’ve been on your feet all day.”

She hesitates before she reaches for the milk, spilling the smallest dash she can manage into the cup and skipping the sugar. Then she takes a cut of butter no larger than her thumbnail and spreads it across the toast. She takes a few tentative bites, ushering some back to him and tearing off a few crumbs to feed to Vera. Even the most mundane parts of life have become luxuries now.

“How long are you back for?” she asks.

“A week.”

“And then?”

“Off to Dover. They’ve got some big operation planned.”

“And will you be back after that?”

He draws his tongue between his lips. “I don’t know.”

Before long, the front door unlocks and Lois’ heels click through the hallways as she comes into the kitchen. “Dad not back yet?” she says, tossing her coat over the banister. She stops at the head of the table and looks between the two of them. She’s holding a brown paper bag. “Hello, Kitty. I’ve just been in to see your mum.”

“Oh she’ll be wondering where I am,” Kitty says, glancing across to Tom.

His chin is tilted down, and he looks up at her through the smoke with pleading eyes, like an injured puppy.

“Tell ‘em the Gregorys invited you up for tea,” Lois shrugs. She reaches into the bag and pulls out tiny pieces of clothing that are vaguely familiar to Kitty. “For the baby,” she says. “Thank God your mum kept all your old stuff.”

“Make do and all that,” Kitty says, briefly catching Tom’s eye.

She downs her tea and hurries to the hallway. Tom had left her coat over a sofa in the front room, and her bag is still on the floor. She tuts at his carelessness and shouts a farewell to Lois as Tom comes to see her to the door.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he says formally, with the corners of his mouth curled.

“Of course,” she replies, peering round his shoulder to see if Lois can see them.

Tom looks round too and smiles back at her as he leans into her ear. “A pleasure, as always, pretty Kitty.” He catches her lips in a quick peck before he opens the door for her.

She hurries across the street and finds her keys in her handbag. Before she opens her own door, she looks back to number 27. The glow of the spring evening beams off the red bricks of the houses and Tom looks golden, watching her through the haze of smoke from his cigarette.

It’s like before, all those months ago, before he first went away.

Each night, Tom steals into her bedroom. They kiss as quietly as they undress each other and set themselves down on her bed.

It gets more unbearable with every day that goes by. Each hour is an hour closer to carrying on with her life without him, when he’ll become another person to wait for, another reason why she wants this war to end.

On their last night, he fucks her from behind, keeping her mouth covered and muffling his own sounds in the crook of her neck. His breath and the hold on her mouth only makes her more desperate.

If anything, that first evening has ruined her, going back to gentle lovemaking is excruciating.

She quietly pleads for “more… more…”

Tom clamps his hand tighter around her mouth. “No, no, no, be a good girl,” he whispers harshly, “just be a good girl for me, Kitty.”

Once they’re both too tired to carry on, he wraps his arms around her. He tells her he loves her, and she says it back.

Dover is closer than the Atlantic at least, but the distance is all the same. He’ll still be gone.

She watches him as he dresses and follows him to the window. Before he leaves, he kisses her, deeply and desperately, pulling her still bare body against him.

When they move away for breath she gazes into his eyes. She could never forget them, the storm of blue and grey rings around his pupil, but he already feels like a memory, something intangible, there but not quite.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and his lips linger there. “When I get my next leave, I’ll come straight to you,” he says.

She doesn’t doubt it’s a promise he’ll keep. Tom Bennett doesn’t often make promises to her, but so far, he’s never broken one.

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

Series taglist: @hanula18 @azxulaa @whoknows333

#my fics #tom bennett #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #wof #world on fire bbc #world on fire season 2 #world on fire fanfiction #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennet x reader #ewan mitchell #tom bennett smut

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akaashiwaifuuwu · 11 months

Text

Nothings gonna hurt you baby.

Lee minho and fem reader

Warning : smuts, reader got slutshamed not from minho, punched? Ig thats all?

Honestly, all minho wanted was a roommates and him having a female roommate. Which was not his idea ofcourse but here he is looking at you. "Uhm hi?" You said "hello" was all he could respond.

"So your name?" Minho started taking the box which you were handing him "yn and you?".

"Minho" he started opening the box "well minho, I'm glad that you're helping me" you smiled at him while tying your hair

You have fully settled all your things and started going for work it has been 5 days since you have settled and you took the TV remote and turning on some reality shows while minho came "yn, watch something else what's this? is this something?" He took the remote and played some football game.

"Nooo I was watching it" you pouted until you heard a knock you got up to open the door "heyyy" you heard the 7 boys who was just standing "oh wait is this the wrong dorm?" You heard the freckle boy "no, this is my roommate sho sho let my boys come in" minho gave you show sho look.

You just turned around and on the reality show "oh what is this?" The same freckle boy sat next to you "reality show" you are focused on that until the girls on show started fighting you gasp "what a bitch" felix gasps as well "I know! All she does is nag around and ruin the other girls dream of becoming a model ugh Catherine is a bitch".

"Well I think Catherine deserves to be kicked out" felix got cut off by you "maddie is such a sweetheart she is a cinnamon roll" you both were focused on the shows too much "the one who is gonna get kicked out is drum rolls Cassie".

You and felix yelled fuck "damn they both just met half an hour ago?" Chan looked at both you "im felix" he gave you his hand "im yn, nice to meet you" you both shaked hands.

"Yn, what are you doing?" Minho sat beside you "im not disturbing you even felix wants to watch this, right lixie?" You turned around and saw felix blushing "yeah, I'm" he mumbled "see?" You gave him puppy eyes "okay then" minho exclaimed.

It has been 2 hours since the boys came and all of them is focused on the reality shows except minho he still doesn't have the idea why you were all too focused. Bangchan gasps "Kate is a bitch and maddie deserves more it".

"Please, maddie is a sweetheart even Kate she just I don't know made her point?" You were cut off my minho "guy you're my friend not her what the fuck man"

"A win is a win minho" hyunjin patted his back. "So, yn why did you shift here?" Jisung and all the guy turned toward you "well minho was looking for a roommate or so and I was finding a dorm so here I'm" you looked at minho "guys who are you asking her questions" minho glared at jisung "she is our new buddy" chan said

It's been awhile now 2 month since you moved in. You were coming back from work while listening to music and you saw a guy looking at you and you didn't mind cause he might have just like your hair or whatever and when he didn't stop looking you were scared.

You went out from train and he did the same "hey are you single?" The guy asked and you ignored and send your location to minho "im talking to you" you started walking fast "you bitch" he grabbed your shoulder and you could see the rage in his eyes "let her go" you saw bangchan and felix "okay fine guess she is whoring around with so many guys,no wonder why she looks so ugly and what a slut you're nothing but a fucktoy for guys to use and thro-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence minho punched him.

"Are you okay?" He looked at you, you were blank that guy ran away you came to your sense when you felt minho touch your face causing you to jolt back he looked so scared as if you're some glass, so fragile he doesn't want you to slip from his vulnerable hands.

"Are you okay?" Bangchan came "im fine" you smiled but you your cheeks were wet you felt minho wiping your tears and felix giving you some water. You're glad you have them.

You sat on the sofa while minho gave you another glass of water "yn you're the most beautiful women I ever saw" your eyes widened "don't think about what he said okay?" He looks at you "he reminds me of my ex he was so nice and then later on he abused me mentally and physically I never was able to say that" you were crying again "minho, don't I deserve love?" You were holding your knees close to your chest "you do yeah you do" he looks so sincere "just hold me minho without hurting just hold me" and hold you he did, he did picked you up and place you on his bed and he hopped in as well.

Your head was filled with his perfume, his hand and him.

"Yn you will catch cold" minho said firmly "its okay" you ran away and played with rain. Ah, rain. You love rain, since you were a kid rain gave you inner peace.

And cold? Yeah. "I told you but you didnt listen" he glared at you while giving you medicine "im sorry" you apologized to him "you're not"

"You're right, I'm not" he laughed at this remark.

"I'm not going to work okay?" You hummed "you're so nice taking care of me and so good looking" he looked at you and saw that you were fast asleep.

"My new wallpaper" he laughed "mate you're whipped" chan smiled "from where did you came from?" Minho was breathing heavily.

"Maybeeee from tree" bangchan laughed at him.

He came back from his work and heard you whimpering the door was slightly open he saw you and your hand under your underwear and other hand around your nipples he looked away and went back to the front door "yn I'm back home" he announced you came out flushed breathing heavily and you were washing your hands "hey minho you came early" he looked at your hands "yeah I wanted to see if you're doing okay or not".

Minho is stunned. You weren't wearing a bra and he can see your nipples. "Minho wanna go shopping with me tomorrow?" He hummed. Oh he is doomed.

"Let's go there" you grabbed his hand and entered a shop. You were trying and buying multiple cloths, accessories, makeup, shoes and what not. "Let me breathe" he showed you his palm "yes baby breathe, are you hard" you smirked "yn don't".

You entered the lingerie shop he closed his eyes "I feel like it's illegal to see this" you were guiding him "this is so pretty" you were seeing pink lace bra with pink undies. He opened his eyes and he was flabbergasted.

"I'm trying this one on" you exclaimed.

"Minho wanna see it?" You were yelling from dressing room "no ma'am" "you're missing anyway your loss baby"

You both were eating dinner at a restaurant with the boys and their girls, it was so overwhelming obviously both of your legs was touching but you both weren't moving. "Earth to yn" felix waved his hands infront of you "yeah tell me? You asked "what are you thinking" he turned his head like a dog trying to understand something "nothing" you smiled.

"Yn we need to talk" minho said when he came from office "tell me" you gave your full attention to him "I like you yn, you like me too tye feelings flows both way." You were stunned "im a horrible person you don't wanna do anything with me" you looked down "tell me all the horrible thing you did and let me love you anyway" that took your breathe away.

That's when you pulled him through his collar and kissed him. "I love you minho" you kissed him again and he grabbed you by your waist and started taking you to his bed. His bed where you spend more time than your bed.

"I love you more darling" he kissed you again and you both were pulling eachother and you were sitting km his lap and grinding "impatient aren't we?" When minho removed his shirt you said "Stop stop" breathing heavily "we can stop if you want we can cuddle and watch movie" he was cut off by you kissing "its not that it's just im a virgin" you looked at him "oh so I'm the one who is gonna corrupt you?" He smirked and you slapped against his chest "do you want this yn?" You nodded "I need words darling".

"Yes minho" you whispered.

Both of your clothes were on the ground you were panting he was taking his time worshipping you and whispering sweet nothing against your ear he was eating you out when you lift your hips he made sure to keep it down he made sure you stay still.

"Come I come" he looked amazed that you're not able to say anything. "Baby you can't speak?" With that you came and you were shaking "that's it yeah good night" he kissed your forehead "no need need you yes need you I need you" you started crying he realized you were deep into your sub space "call me sir" he ordered while he put his condom

"It might hurt" he hold your leg "but I will make sure it's pleasurable" he smiled while he put in "I sir I sir hurt sir " you cried "shush I'm here baby" he said this and started moving slowly and you were babbling "good girl" he said while you were moaning"good girl good girl good girl sir" he knew that you were gone.

"Baby" he saw you were shaking "baby I need to make you come one more time yeah?" He looked at you but you were gone "you know sleep okay tomorrow I will see" he picked you up and made sure that he cleaned you.

"Ynnnn you weren't waking up are you okay?" You saw 6 boys looking at you "where is minho?" You asked "he is cooking lunch for you" chan looked "shit I slept for that long?" When you stand up, your leg gave up and you fell "careful" chan said as he hold you "minhoooooo" you yelled "What what what?" He came running

"I can't walk?" You questioned him "damn" he smirked.

"OH" felix yelled while smirking "stop it lix I will kill you" you warned "yn and minho have hickeyssssss they both had sex" he started running around while singing "he went hard" hyunjin laughed.

Oh well.

"That's how I met your mother" he looked at his son and daughter.

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lysarria · 8 months

Text

Warnings: Fluff, Tiny hint of PTSD, Cussing, Lots of love ❤️

Words: 3562

I enjoyed writing this and I hope that you all enjoy it as well. This story will be 2 parts. Possibly 3. There will be typos. Thank you for reading ☺️😘

A love that never fades

Part 1

Finally got the last box out of storage and into my house. Long distance moving and trying to get everything lined up is frustrating and very exhausting. I flopped my tired body onto the couch to rest my sore feet and back. I reached for my phone to check the notifications and I saw I had new text messages. Most were in my group chat with Cat and James (My friend and Sy's sister Catherine and her husband James who is good friend of Sy's from the Army). I replied in our group chat and went to my next set of new texts and they were from Lily (Sy's Mom).

Lily - Good morning sunshine and welcome home! We are thrilled that you are back here. We think of you as family and love you. You are always welcome at our house.

Let me know if you need any help! If you are feeling up for it later today we would love to have you over at the house for dinner and catching up. You're welcome over anytime but we will start cooking around 4:00. :)

While reading her messages I started to tear up a little bit and felt happiness in my heart. I moved away for a job opportunity little over 3 years ago. I gained a great deal of experience to further my job advancement but the feeling of being out of place and alone started to wear me down. I knew where I belonged so I put together a plan and made it happen. I replied back and let her know that I'd love to come over and that I would let her know once I was on my way.

I placed my phone on the ottoman and jumped up and started to dig around in boxes and putting together an outfit for this afternoon. Once that mission was completed I decided to turn on some music to rock out to and start working on unpacking boxes and figure out how I wanted to setup the house. Mötley Crüe - "Kickstart my heart" came on and that music adrenaline rush hit and I was rocking out all over the house cleaning out boxes while memories of Sy started to flood in and how he had taken me to see Mötley Crüe in concert a couple of times. He would always stand close to me, especially during the slow songs. He would stand behind me and wrap his arms tightly around me. Damn, I miss him. Does he miss me? Does he ever think of me ? For whatever reason we became distant after I moved. Honestly, the man is on my mind probably more than he should be, but maybe that's not such a bad thing. I sighed and shook my head and reset my focus back on the task.

I took a much needed long shower. The hot water felt so good on my sore body. Now it was time to finish getting ready and drive over to the Syverson's for dinner. I sent Lily a text to let her know I would be leaving soon and should arrive in 30 minutes. I am excited, nervous, happy and somewhat emotional on this drive. I haven't seen them in years and I have missed them so much. It is such a beautiful drive in the country to their house.

The leaves are starting to change colors for Fall. The feeling of actually being home is becoming stronger and stronger. The feeling of real happiness is sparking again. Moving back to Texas was the best decision and I'm excited for the future.

I entered their long driveway and came to a stop. I stepped out of the car and grabbed my phone to take a picture. They have Pecan trees and Oak trees along the sides of the driveway. The color of the leaves are so magical. A slight breeze blows the leaves around and the smell of crisp air flows. I've always loved their property. Out in the country. Away from the loud and busy city. Out here it's just nature and peace. I let out a content sigh and get back into the car and continue on. I parked my car and got out and looked around. Sy's truck is under the car port. He would always leave his truck at his parents during deployment. I could feel my heart speeding up just seeing his truck and all the memories I have with him. Our random adventures, driving around just because, going out to eat, sitting on the tailgate and watching sunsets. He loves that truck and seemed that he also loved having me sit next to him with his arm around me. I know that I loved it and I would put my head against his chest. I know he's currently deployed in Iraq but a big part of me wishes that this was a surprise and he was actually home because he's pulled that surprise on me before. I jumped as a dog started to bark at me and my eyes quickly located the incoming dog. "Hank!?" I quickly squatted down and greeted their Chocolate Labrador, Hank. I gave him lots of love and pets as he's trying to lick my face off and dancing in excitement. All these years and he remembers me! Then I hear laughing and look up to see Lily and Felix (Sy's Dad). I stood up and walked towards them and they met me half way. Lots of hugs given and received. They are two of the kindest people I've ever met. Chatting away in the driveway with Lily and there's good ole Hank at my side. Felix went back into the house but returned in seconds. I can hear keys jingling and slightly curious. Lily stepped away to check on dinner and Felix motions for me to follow him. We chat back and forth as we walk to Sy's truck and he hands me the keys that I heard. I looked at him and then to the truck. Felix smiles at me and says "Go ahead Sweetheart. I saw you checking out his truck when you got here." I unlocked the door and slowly slide onto the custom made leather bench seat. I looked down at the set of keys and Sy still had something on the keyring that I had made for him many years ago when I was learning different crafts. A small metal charm in the shape of Texas and I had engraved Sy and a little heart below his name. I put the key in the ignition and started up his truck. Ahhh that loud rumble. I can't help but smile like a big goof. His truck had such a distinct sound. Everything inside looks almost the same as a few years ago. I turned off the truck and slid out of and I handed Felix the keys and thanked him. He then looks at me and says "You know he loves you, right." Tears immediately start to form up as I look at him. Shocked and unsure what to do or say. Felix reaches out and hugs me tightly and as I'm crying I tell him that I love his son so much. He patted me on the back saying "I know you love him, sweetheart. You always have. You're very special to him and to us as well. You bring out a side of him that not many people get to see. You truly make him happy, dear."

Felix made sure I was okay and then stepped back into the house to help Lily with dinner. I walked around the yard with Hank by my side as I gather myself and my thoughts before I head inside. We walk up the steps and I open the door and I'm hit with the wonderful smell of Pot Roast. Lily and Felix always made the most delicious meals. I head into the kitchen and let them know dinner smells great! Lily smiles and winks at me. "We knew this was one of your favorites and we felt a good comfort meal would be perfect for this evening." Felix is making homemade mashed potatoes and rolls. I thanked them for doing so much for me and it wasn't needed. They just shake their heads at me and Felix said dinner will still be a bit and to make myself at home.

I walked around the house and viewed the framed pictures on the walls. Many pictures of friends and family. Army pictures. Baby pictures. A few of the pictures I remember and then some new ones. Pictures of Cat and James adorable daughter, Skyler. She is 2 years old. There's a picture of my Dad and Felix. They were both Majors in the Army. They had met on Base and quickly became good friends. That is how I ended up in this area during my highschool days. My parents had divorced and I picked to live with my Dad. He was transferred to Texas and of all the places we lived. This is where I felt the most at "home." A lot of that is from meeting the Syverson family and how fast they welcomed us in like we were family. Now I am in my late 30s and this is where I still feel the most at home and welcomed. I stepped down the hallway and there's one of my favorite pictures of me and Sy at a Fall festival. Both of us making goofy faces while lost in a corn maze. I can't believe that was almost 4 years ago. Another picture is me with the Syverson family on Christmas. Cat came up with the idea of doing an ugly Christmas sweater photo op and everyone actually agreed to it. That was a fun day. We did the photos after opening our gifts. So to add to the ugly sweaters we decided to stick bows on each other and do silly pictures. His family has such a great sense of humor and very laid back. All these memories makes my heart feel alive. I walked down the hall more and enter Sy's old bedroom. He always liked to stay at his parents house from time to time. Framed Army certificates, Medals, Awards and Army group pictures are hung on the walls. His stereo system and large music collection still sat in the same spot as I remembered. The top of his dresser had a couple of framed pictures. One of him with his parents before leaving for his first deployment. The second picture is of us at Cat and James wedding 4 years ago. Sy in his Army dress uniform....*swoons*. Another favorite picture of us. They had such a beautiful outdoors evening wedding. I grabbed the photo and sat on the bed and just stared at it. It's so obvious that we love each other. I have so many regrets and I'm sure Sy has regrets as well. I do hope that whenever he returns home that he will want to see me and we can talk. I miss that man so much. Half of my heart feels empty without him. Then I hear a knock on the door and Lily walks in. She sat down on the bed next to me and looked at the picture with me.

"He called us a couple of days ago. We told him that you were getting yourself settled in. I could hear a difference in his voice once I mentioned you. He sounded livelier. He asked if you were single! Oh my boy. That was his first question about you. I could hear him smile. If that makes sense. When I told him that you were single. He said he wished he could get on that plane now and come home. He probably has three more months on this deployment but maybe things will change and he can come home sooner. That would be wonderful, huh? Ya know....you should mail him a Care package. I remember when you would mail him packages and letters all the time. You helped him feel like he wasn't too far from home or alone. He knew he had people back home that cared and loved him. I think that would be quite the surprise for him on mail day! I will write down his address for you. He decided to date about a year and half ago while he was home in between deployments and that didn't last long. That girlfriend was absolutely the worst nightmare ever and really messed him up. He was really hard on himself after that. He wanted to jump in his truck and drive out to see you. He kept kicking himself for not asking you out. So many years he wanted to ask you out. He wanted to take it further with you but he always hesitated. We sat right here on this bed and had many discussions about the two of you. I believe in soul mates and I feel it in my heart that you two are meant to be. You both were teenagers when you met but even then. You both clicked like you had known each other for a lifetime and got along perfectly. It was hard for him to fully wrap around the idea he had met "the one" at such a young age. Then he went into the Army and was away so often. He wasn't sure if you wanted that life with him because you grew up in the Army life with your dad. At times he wondered if he deserved to have you in his life in that way. Each deployment changed him and I get it. I went through it with Felix. Just like you had seen a change in your Dad over the years. I told Sy that you are both strong people and can handle anything that is tossed at you. As he grew up and older he realized more and more that you were his world and didn't want to be without you and kicked himself for the past and letting all these years slip by. You two have such a special bond and no other woman has made him feel the way that you do or treated him so lovingly the way you do. I think things will fall right back into place as they were with you two and your future together will be bright and full of happiness and maybe even a wedding! Then we can officially make you a Syverson!"

Lily winked at me and I can feel that I'm blushing and my face hurts from smiling. Felix shouts from down the hall that dinner is ready!

Dinner was amazing and the best meal I've had in a long time. We sat at the table talking and catching up. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the sun was setting. The sky was covered in orange, red and a hint of yellow. I quickly jumped up and asked if one of them would take my picture with Sy's truck so I could print him a copy and put it in his care package. We rushed outside to capture the gorgeous sunset before it was gone. The sun was shining brightly through the trees. Felix took a few pictures for me and then I asked for a group picture. Of course we included Hank! It was very entertaining trying to get the 4 of us in a picture but we finally got it. I can give Sy a copy of that picture as well. We go back inside and continue to chat and catch up. Lily yawns and I didn't realize how fast time had zipped by. It was almost 10:00 p.m. I thanked them again for a wonderful evening and everything they had done for me. They followed me out to my car. I gave Hank some pets and told him bye. I hugged Lily and Felix again and got into the car then Lily stops me from leaving and runs into the house and returns with a post-it note and smiles at me. It's Sy's Military address. It's too late to shop for items tonight. I know what my plans are for tomorrow after my morning jog. I'm excited to go shopping for Sy like I use to and buy some of his favorite things. The drive home went by fast as I had many thoughts going in my brain. Having someone and something special to look forward to. It really makes each day better and happier.

I got up early and went for my usual sunrise jog. Afterwards, I went the post office to get Priority mail shipping boxes and then off to the store to buy items to put into his care packages. It's been such a long time since I've felt like this. The excitement for him to receive my packages and how he'll react when he opens. If only I could see those reactions. From the way his parents talked to me then he should be over the moon. I purchased: coffee, creamer packets, beef jerky, trail mix, oatmeal cookies, granola bars and packs of crackers. Then I decided to get some candies that were cute and a little flirty. In my head I could see him shaking his head and grinning as he pulled the items out of the box. So off to the candy aisle! I tossed a variety of different types of Hershey's kisses...they probably won't survive the Iraq heat but I'm sure he'll still enjoy. Looking around I spot Hot Tamales candies.... I mean...he is pretty damn hot. Perfect find. Tossed a couple of boxes of those in the cart. The last great find... Gummy bears! Of course. I've called him Bear for almost 20 years. Then I went to the other side of the store and purchased some hygiene products that will I will put into a different care package box. Off to the register to purchase the items. I almost feel like squealing and dancing as I exit the store. Before going home I swing by the photo center and quickly print off some copies of the pictures we had taken the day before.

I placed all of the store bags on the living room floor and then I went to browse my crafting box for cardstock, stickers, markers and glue. It's been a while since I've mailed him a package but I had kept all of the supplies. I sat on the living room floor and started working on the packages. Trying to decide on what to write on the inside flaps of the boxes. Then it hit me...."Someone in Texas misses you beary much!". Cute, cheesy, corny? I'm going to go with my heart on this and just be me. After writing that on the flaps I placed a big cute bear sticker on one flap and then placed some little red hearts on each flap. I filled up the boxes with the items I had purchased. I wrote a short note to him on the inside of a card and wrote my phone number at the bottom. I'd love to hear his voice. I placed the photos in the card and sealed the envelope. I looked at both care packages and felt like they were ready to be taped up and to be mailed. I decided to add a little extra love and put some hearts on the outside of the boxes as well. I wish I could see the looks he receives whenever he picks up his packages.

Off to the Post office I go. I took a picture of me with the boxes and sent to Lily. Packages were accepted and later today they will officially be on the way to Iraq to a very special Captain. I get back into the car and Lily had replied:

Wow Honey!! You were on it this morning, huh?! You are such a wonderful person. Thank you for caring and loving our Son like you do. Thank you for loving us and we love you and glad you're a part of our family.

Each day I check the tracking numbers on his packages to see their progress. On day 10 the status on both of his packages change to Arrived to Military Post office. They made it ! Now the feeling of being nervous/anxious hits. I check the tracking again a few hours later and the status has changed. Green words that say "Package delivered to Recipient." I thought I was nervous and anxious earlier. Nope. What I feel now blows that away. I want to jump up and down, scream, cry, giggle, dance. Every emotion is hitting me. Will he call me or maybe just write to me. I can't concentrate on anything. All of my thoughts are on him and these packages I sent. Hours go by and nothing. It's almost 9:00 pm and my phone starts to vibrate and I freeze in spot. I grab my phone. Unknown number. I accepted the call and said Hello. I hear a lot of crackling. No voice. I say hello again. Still just crackling. Then I hear a deep breath...

"I miss you too, Sweet Pea."

..... To be continued 💚

Tags: @mayloma @identity2212 @happydistraction @blah80 @beck07990

#captain syverson #Syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #syverson fic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #sy bear

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lostfirefly · 16 days

Text

What do you do? What do you do in the bath?

I've been incredibly productive this week. I will probably be less active next week, because I need to prepare for the 3D animation course test. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here

I'm not confident in writing smut. So I apologize in advance.

Decription: Buggy came home from a short tour. He and Catherine are taking a bath. Something gets out of control :)

Warnings: SFW (fun, domestic fluff) turns into NSFW (Cathie-pie seduces her clown), MDNI

Words: 4749

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august

The title is taken from "In the Bath" by Lemon Jelly (don't laugh!).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Catherine periodically came to the window with a glass of wine. She glanced first at the clock, then out the window. She heard the sound of a car door closing and ran to the window again.

“Not my little bear…” She sighed, took a bottle of wine and went to the sofa.

Catherine was lying on the sofa with a book when she heard the sound of keys in the front door and heavy footsteps.

"Cotton candy, I'm home!" She heard her favorite deep voice from the corridor.

"Finally!!!" Catherine jumped up from the couch and ran to the front door and saw Buggy leaning with his back against the wall. She clenched her hands into fists and started squealing.

"My Buggy Bea-a-r!!!!" Catherine jumped on Buggy, hugging him with her arms and legs. "Hi, hi, hi!!" Smack. Smack. Smack.

“First, hi! Second, it's still a disgusting nickname when you are gonna change it? Third, this is for you! I bought it.” He handed her a bouquet of blue carnations.

“Liar!!” Smack. “I’m pretty sure you stole it!” Smack. “Thanks!” Smack. “So beautiful!” Smack. “Your nickname remains!” Smack. “I missed you!” Smack. Smack. Smack.

“First, why pay for a bouquet when I can easily steal it?” Buggy shrugged, trying to pretend he doesn't like smacks. “Second, I have only been gone for two days and already such a greeting! I like it!!” He carried Catherine into the bedroom.

“You were gone for two whole days, my red-nose thief!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “How did everything go? Did the fangirls attack you? Found yourself a new girlfriend?” Catherine stroked his head. “I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. Women's things finished me off.” She kissed him on his lips.

“Are you out of your mind? Why do I need some other girl? Everything went fine!” Buggy put Catherine on the bed. “Feeling better already?” He took the bouquet and sent his hand to place it in a vase on the night table.

“Yes! By the way, what kind of strange thing did you send me? I didn’t get the sense.” Catherine wiped her lips, took out her phone and showed the photo.

“Damn! You have me listed under that fucking nickname here, too.” Buggy placed his hand on her waist, glanced at her, pretending he’s unhappy with the recording. “And this isn't a strange thing. Honey, it’s you.”

"It's a bush, Buggy!” Catherine put her hand on his shoulder.

“No-o-o, it's you!” He pointed his finger at the photo.

“In what universe is this me?"

“It looks like you! See? Here’s the hair, the hands. And if you look closely at these branches, this is your “I hate you” face. I saw it, thought about you, and wanted to show it to you.”

“I can't believe that the love of my life compared me to a bush.” Catherine kissed Buggy on his head, started jumping on the bed and watched him change into his home clothes. “You sent a message that you'll be home in an hour. And it's already been two. Where have you been, jackass? How's the journey home?”

“Disgusting. I had to put a couple of my freaks in the car, and they kept whining. Sometimes they were hot, sometimes they were cold. And we had to stop periodically.” Buggy looked at her, pulling off his sock. “Why are you laughing, little shit?”

“It’s amazing to listen to one of the most whiny persons in the world complain about what others complain about.” Catherine smiled.

“Go to hell, honestly! I never whine!”

“You're always whining. When we returned from our adventure, you whined that after the celebration we hadn't had sex in three days. Then you whined that I forgot to cut off the crust on the sandwich and thought that I was upset with you. Then you whined when you realized that I wasn’t offended. Two days ago, you were whining that the sheets weren't soft enough.”

“In my defense, three and even two days without sex is a lot, cotton candy. You like tormenting me, right? Fuck, I’m so tired, I'm declaring a day off tomorrow.” He was rummaging through the shelves. “Where are my pants, cotton candy?”

“Third shelf from the bottom!” She pointed to the closet and continued jumping. “Hah! You can't do anything without me. You can't even find your pants!”

“I can find everything. I lived somehow before you!” He squatted down and looked at the shelf.

“Come on!” Catherine stopped jumping and crossed her arms. “You probably wore holey socks, walked around in dirty pants and ate something unknown. So since you have a day off tomorrow, maybe we can go for a walk tomorrow? I would hold your hand…” She made waves with her hands.

“I’ll think about it. Shit, I’m hungry!” He pulled on his pajama pants and turned to her.

Catherine couldn't resist and jumped on him with her legs. "Then take me to the kitchen, my hero!" She ran her fingers over his stubble. “Is it difficult to put on a t-shirt?”

“I thought you missed this view too.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. She hugged him tightly around his neck, kicking her legs happily.

Buggy carried Catherine into the kitchen, grumbling for her to stop moving her legs and kissing his nose, although he secretly adored these manifestations of her feelings, and her lively personality. She knew that he was just groaning and would never admit that he liked it.

When they came to the kitchen, Catherine jumped off him and ran to the refrigerator.

"Sit down and relax, my love! Look what I bought for you!" She took two bottles of beer from the fridge. "Your favorite!"

"You are my best!" Buggy looked at her over his shoulder.

Catherine put the bottles on the table for him, kissed him on his cheek and ran to the stove. "And I cooked your favorite mac and cheese!" She took out a plate and began serving him a portion. "I also baked almond cookies. I bet your fangirls don't care about you that much!" She giggled.

“I don’t have fangirls, stop mocking me!” Buggy took a sip of beer. “I have enough of you pissing me off every time! Oh, by the way, I bought you a gift.” He detached his hand and sent it to the bag. “I couldn't leave you without a gift.” The hand brought a small package and gave it to Catherine's hand.

“I will never stop admiring your chop chop.” She smiled and carefully opened the package. “What's here? Raspberry marshmallows sticks, a bottle of wine. Yummy!! What is this?” She took out a small figurine of a bear sitting under a lilac bush. “Oh, my god! Buggy…”

“You told me how your father gave your mother lilacs. I saw this figurine and thought it would remind you of them. And I bought it. Ok, I stole it. Why are you looking at me like that?” Buggy asked with his mouth full, chewing pasta.

“You remember the story. This figure is amazing! And also this little bear. It's you and my parents. Can I put this on the shelf in the bedroom?” Catherine looked at him with wet eyes.

“Put it wherever you want.”

“I'll put a figurine next to a picture of you and me. Thank you!” Catherine ran up to him, placed the plate on the table and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm glad that you remember my words even when I'm dressed, asshole. Love, love, love you!!”

Catherine put the figurine on the table, plopped down on a chair next to Buggy, watched him happily wrap pasta on his fork and wash down his food with beer. She stroked his hair. "Tasty?"

Buggy nodded, narrowed his eyes contentedly, and kissed her on the lips.

“Don't come at me with your oily lips, clown!” Catherine wiped her mouth with a towel, hugged his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re finally home.”

“Cathie-pie, my hand.” Buggy turned his head slightly towards her, looking at her questioningly. “How would I eat if you grabbed my hand?”

“I don't care! Think of something.”

Buggy shrugged and separated the part of his hand that was holding the beer.

Catherine glanced at him. “Seriously? Instead of hugging me, you’re doing this?!”

“What? I’m hungry.” Buggy wrapped the pasta around his fork. Slurping, he finished eating, threw his fork on the table and took a sip of beer. "Everything was delicious! Thank you!" Buggy looked at Catherine and put his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re always welcome. Could you imagine, if you'd left me in the desert, you'd be eating nothing but breadcrumbs with water right now.” She kissed him on the nose.

“Fuck! I didn't leave you! You will remember this to me for the rest of your life, right?” Buggy stretched. "Fuck, my back. I suggest we move to the couch." He took the beer and extended his hand to her.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right back, I’ll just put the plates in the dishwasher.” She gave him another peck on the nose and kicked him out into the living room.

Catherine poured herself a glass of wine and went to Buggy, “My little bear, I’m coming to you! Let’s spe~..” She entered the living room and saw him lying on the sofa, quietly snoring. Catherine smiled, tiptoed over to the snuffling body, covered Buggy with a blanket and kissed him on the head. “Tired. Okay! I'll go to the bath then.” She whispered to herself.

Catherine quietly went into the bedroom to get pajama pants and Buggy’s t-shirt, grabbed a glass of wine and went to the bathroom. She lit the candles, poured bath salts and added bubbles. Catherine took off her clothes and lay down in the hot water. She took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes, exhaling several times. She placed her hand on the edge of the bathtub and felt a hand on her arm.

“Oh, shit!!” Catherine jumped slightly, opened her eyes and saw Buggy sitting next to her and looking at her. “I almost had a heart attack! What are you doing here? You were sleeping on the couch.”

“You said that you would come to me. I opened my eyes, you weren’t there, and I went looking for you.” He blushed.

“I knew you missed me!” Catherine narrowed her eyes playfully.

“Fuck you! Yes, I missed you. Are you going to cut me into pieces for this? You know perfectly that you can slice me, you can dice me, and I~” Buggy let go of her hand.

“What? No! Don't be offended!” Catherine took his hand and pulled him towards her, kissing him on the lips. Buggy started giggling during the kiss. Catherine pulled her head back. “What's so funny, clown?”

“You're naked. I can see your breasts!”

“Oh, God! Are you 10 years old?”

“Hey! I’m over 30! But I’m always happy to see you naked. And here you are lying in the bathtub. All so sexy.” Buggy started giggling again.

“That’s it! Get out of here!” Catherine started pulling him out of the bathroom.

“But why? Can I sit next to you?” Buggy stared at her with pleading eyes.

“Go away, fucking clown!”

He sighed, stood up and walked out the door.

“Buggy!” Catherine immediately shouted.

“What?” His head looked into the bathroom.

“Seriously? I can't believe you just up and left.” Catherine straightened one leg above the water and winked at him. “Would you like to join me?”

“Two minutes ago you kicked me out, and now you’re calling me to join.” Buggy stood there in bewilderment.

“Well, if you don’t want to, fine. You could touch my naked body.” She lightly touched him with her foot.

“Oh, you’re a dirty girl, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy grinned, closed the door and quickly took off his pants and underwear.

“Yes, I'm like that sometimes! But I still blame you for spoiling me.” Catherine looked him up and down, blushed, and moved to the other side of the bath.

“Yeah, yeah, a bad horny clown spoiled a decent little princess.” Buggy sat down in the bath, and she immediately leaned her back against his chest.

“Ts! I didn't give you permission to talk!” Catherine gently ran her fingertips along his cheek and, feeling that he placed his arms around her waist, put her hands on his arms. “Do you remember the rules that I introduced after last time?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Buggy buried his face in her hair and sighed.

“What happened, little bear?” She started stroking his fingers.

“Nothing. Glad to be home. Glad that someone is waiting for me at home. Glad I'm not alone anymore.” He mumbled into her hair.

“I’ll always wait f~!” Catherine's eyes widened as she felt one of his hands slowly begin to move down to her thigh. "What are you doing? Take your hand back!" She grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. “Don't break the rules, Buggy! No chop chop things in this room! Or I’ll leave, and you’ll remain a grown man taking a bubble bath.”

“So unfair!” Buddy said sadly. “You're lying with me completely naked! I see your breasts! Your nip~!”

Catherine covered his mouth with her hand. “Shush! Stop saying these inappropriate things!”

Buggy removed her hand from his mouth and watched as she blushed when he started whispering in her ear. Her eyes widened.

“No! We won’t do anything! We’re taking a bath. Rules, Buggy!” There was already less confidence in Catherine's voice. “And keep your.. your.. you know.. little Buggy with you.” She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder.

“You've never complained about him before! And he’s not little!” There was indignation in his voice.

“Oh, I knew you'd pick up on that, pervert!”

“I'm offended to the core, cotton candy. Well, tell me, what did you do without me?” Buggy asked quietly.

“Hm.. I went to the cinema, walked, sat in a cafe with a book and lay on the couch. And what did you do?” Catherine asked softly. She liked listening to his stories about everything and nothing, listening to how his days were spent.

“Well, we rehearsed a lot. I played cards with Cabaji. Won a bottle of beer. He often asks about you. I do not like it.” Buggy pouted.

“Someone is jealous!!” Catherine pressed her back closer.

“I’m not!”

“You're so jealous that you will turn even more gray with anger. He's just happy for you. That's all.” Catherine straightened her leg slightly. "Great, huh?"

Buggy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly? Your beautiful legs or your naked body?”

“No, asshole. Just lie there together.”

“Not so bad.” Buggy took her hand and kissed it. “I love you, my Cathie-pie.”

Catherine turned around and looked at him with round eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He kissed her hand again.

“You… You just said 'I love you' ahead of me for the first time.” Catherine ran her finger along his arm.

“Hey, I always tell you this!”

“You tell me this when we are... Well, you know. In bed. When you are... Well, you know. But at these moments you are a little crazy.” She stroked his cheek. “Love you too. And I’m so happy I met you.”

“Well, I'll thank myself for that. I'll thank myself for finding you.” Buggy said it with a proud grin and kissed her temple.

“You didn't find me. I was brought to you.” She squeezed his hand.

“It still counts, cotton candy. You've succumbed to my charm.”

Catherine rolled her eye. “Oh, for God's sake, there was no charm! You pissed me off!”

“I beg to differ, you're the one who stayed with me, and now you're lying naked with me in the bathtub.” Buggy kissed her temple again.

“Oh, fuck you, clown! Well, tell me who else you took a bath with. There were probably a lot of girls here. But do you remember? If you don't want to, don't tell me.” Catherine twirled a strand of his hair around her finger.

“There was no one here. Who will take a bath with me? The tub stood almost idle until someone pretty and cheerful occupied it. And I didn’t wash very often.” Buggy shrugged.

“Yes, I noticed. You rarely do this even now, sometimes I have to remind you to wash yourself.”

“I'm surprised that you willingly lie here with me. Do you remember when I brought you from the airport?” Buggy reddened.

“And you immediately dragged me into the bedroom, I remember.”

“Hey, you didn't mind. Our first time was good then, right?” He sighed happily. “I will probably remember this day even on my deathbed.”

Catherine glanced at Buggy and took another strand of his hair. “Do you even remember anything besides sex? Don't know. Our walks in the evenings, how you constantly steal the flowers for me.”

“Sorry, your naked body and moans knock the rest of the moments out of my memory.” He giggled.

“Idiot and liar. So... You wanted to say something.” Catherine felt how his hands started trembling a little.

“Well, in the morning I woke up, and to be honest, I thought that you had already packed your things and ran to the airport. Don't know. Realizing that that was your big mistake. But I saw you sleeping next to me, holding my hand. It was so strange. And it's still strange.” Buggy felt he became nervous and felt how Catherine started stroking his palm.

“First of all, clown, I wouldn't go anywhere. I'm sorry, but you did such a thing to me that it was hard to walk. Secondly, I love you. Third, thank you for telling me this. I’m so proud of you.” She ran her fingertips along his stubble. “You are so prickly. I like it.”

Catherine stretched out her leg and tried to grab the washcloth with her fingers, but went under the water. She quickly surfaced and laughed loudly. “Damn! I thought it would be sexy, but I’m like a manatee on ice.”

“You okay?” Buggy pulled her closer.

“Totally.” Catherine took a lock of his hair. "So long and beautiful. Oh, I want to wash your hair!"

Buggy looked at her questioningly. “No! I can wash my hair myself.”

“Ple-e-ease! You're tired from the road! You never let me do this!” Catherine looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I said no!”

“And I said yes!” She reached for the shampoo, stood up and heard him chuckle. “What amused you again?”

“You're all naked.” Buggy scratched his nose. “Your body. So much better than I even remembered.”

“Oh m~. Stop grabbing my ass!” She slapped his hands, sat behind him and wet his hair. “Shit! I can swim in your bathtub like a whale. See?” Catherine lay down in the water, spun around twice and laughed loudly. “Why do you need such a huge one?”

Buggy laughed as he watched her splash her hands in the water. “Well, I was hoping that one day I would end up here with a very beautiful red-haired whale who would fill all surfaces with fucking scented candles and oils, and would torture me in every possible way.”

“It's not torment, clown. It's called caring. I like taking care of you. And I saw you smelling my candles.” Catherine settled behind him and let his hair down.

Buggy exhaled heavily.

“What happened, little bear?”

“Nothing. I'm still surprised that someone doesn't run away from me early in the morning. That I see someone in the morning dishevelled and wearing stupid pants with animals on them.” He closed his eyes.

“This someone in pants is also very happy to see you nearby.” Catherine wet his hair, poured some shampoo into her hand, and gently ran it through Buggy’s hair. "If it's unpleasant, tell me." She washed each strand carefully, and humming softly, she noticed a slight smile on his face. She gently massaged his head and then ran her hands through the strands. Every time Catherine wet his hair, it changed to a more emerald shade. She couldn't contain her delight and kept saying “wow”. She gently ran her hands through his hair, untangling small tangles with her fingers and rinsed them again.

“It was worth going away for a couple of days for that.” Buggy chuckled. He sat with his eyes closed and a slight grin on his face.

“I'm done with your hair, my love. Now let's wash your face. Can I?” She watched him make a face, but nodded. She took some lotions from the shelf and sat on his lap. Buggy chuckled as she began to gently rub the moistened pad over her face.

“What's so funny?”

“You're sitting on me naked.” Buggy wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You’re disgusting!” Catherine immediately began wiping his lips. “That's it! Shut your dirty mouth!” She gently moved the discs over his face, removing layer by layer of all his makeup. “Here you are! Hi!”

“Hi.”

Catherine couldn't resist and kissed him on the lips. He immediately pulled her closer.

“I missed you.” She kissed his forehead and wrinkled her nose slightly.

“Same thing.” Buggy answered in a whisper.

“Okay, it’s time to get out of the bath. Let's lie on the couch, drink alcohol, eat chips, and watch stupid shows. Good, huh? I’ll just rinse off in the shower.” Catherine kissed him on his cheek.

“And what about me?” Buggy looked at her questionably.

“And you go to the shower stall, clown. Otherwise, our joint bath will end badly.” Catherine blushed.

“You understand that this day will end like this anyway?” He winked at her.

“Get out!” She gently pushed him out of the bath.

Buggy took a brief shower to ensure he did not miss anything and sat next to the tub, keeping his gaze on Catherine.

She took out a washcloth and shower gel and, stretching her leg again, began to slowly move the washcloth along her leg.

“God, this is such a turn on!” He said quietly.

Catherine noticed how he began to fidget. “Like it?” She winked.

“You're playing a dangerous game, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy tried to hold on by crossing one leg over the other leg. “Please, can I join?”

“Na-ah! Just watch, don't touch!” She bit her lower lip, narrowed her eyes playfully, and continued moving the washcloth.

“It's unfair! Do you even understand what you're doing, woman?” He swallowed. “Please! I wanna join and help you!”

“Someone is going to die.” Catherine slowly moved the washcloth along her other leg. “Patience, my silly clown!” She ran the washcloth over her arms and back, periodically glancing at how Buggy became redder and tried his best to hide his quickening breathing.

Catherine quickly rinsed off and was about to grab a towel when she felt Buggy’s hand on her wrist. "Hey! What the hell is this?"

Catherine slowly turned around and saw Buggy climbing into her bathtub. “You've already taken off your panties, you scoundrel. What about rules?”

“I don't use chop chop, see?” He showed her his hands, pressing his entire naked body lightly against hers. “Technically, I'm not breaking anything.”

Catherine placed one foot on the edge of the tub and ran her fingertips through the hair on his chest. “Did someone lose their temper, huh?”

“Because one little shit is behaving badly.” Buggy kissed her on the lips and felt her hand run down his stomach. “Very, very badly.”

“Stop talking, fucking clown. I'm standing here nak~.” She didn’t have time to finish the sentence.

Catherine swifty wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her into a searing, biting kiss. The growl in his throat grew louder with each passing second.

“Oh, fuck! I missed you!” Buggy said in a low, husky voice. His hands gripped her hips and shifted her up. Catherine gasped into his kiss, which shifted from soft and tender to passionate very quickly.

“I knew that, a little creep!” She leaned forward, gripped his bottom lip between her teeth, and gave him a rough, biting kiss. Catherine felt it. Felt that she wanted to lose control in the tension of his arms as he held her.

She moaned through the kiss when Buggy thrust up into her. One long, fast stroke that made her feel like she was breaking into little pieces. His hands gripped her at the hips tighter and moved her up and down. With every stroke of him, they were getting closer to the pleasure they both desired. Every movement made her arch and moan like a cat. Catherine found herself kissing and biting at every single inch of his skin. Buggy’s lips nibbled at every part of her body that he could reach, causing tiny bruises on her skin as their breathing and movements got increasingly chaotic with each upward stroke. Buggy arched up into her, unable to stop himself. His fingers pressed into the skin of her hips, an animalistic sound pouring forth from him, as she pressed further down. His name was the only word on her lips.

“Say it. Say you’re mine,” Buggy thrust deeper, and she whined at the feeling of him inside her. She’d known he belonged there from the first time she’d taken him in herself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.”

Catherine breathed and kissed him. “I promise, you can’t lose me. I’m yours.”

“Tell me,” with his every word, his every move became more aggressive. “Tell me only I can protect you, that only I can take care of you. Say it.”

“You can protect me,” Catherine looked into his eyes, placing her hands on the back of his head. “Only you can take care of me, I promise.” She kissed him.

“Let me love you,” Buggy fucked her deep, hard, greedy. “Say it. Tell me that only I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.”

“You can love me. It's safe. I never hurt you. I promise.” She could barely say anything, pulling him closer.

Buggy moaned against her lips and fucked her, never slowing down, making her orgasm never really go away. He kissed her, pressed down deeply inside her then, causing her back to arch and her legs to tighten around his hips.

She moaned near his lips. “I need to feel you, please, please..”

“You’re mine, Cathie-pie.” He kissed her again, started fucking her a little harder and faster, driving the pleasure closer.

“I’m so close, don't stop.” Catherine felt him press deeply and pulse inside her, stimulating her orgasm. “Just a little mo~. A lit~. Fuck…”

Buggy let out one deep groan, feeling they came together, his body went slack for a moment before, and he buried his face in the crock of her neck. He was silent for a while.

“You okay?” Catherine asked, stroking his head. She felt every beat of his heart.

“Yeah. Fuck, it was great, right?” He kissed her forehead.

“Are you asking for a compliment, a little brat?” Catherine said mockingly and pecked him on his lips.

“Are you sure you're okay? Didn't I hurt you?” Buggy examined her body carefully.

“Why are you asking? What happened?” Catherine stroked his shoulder.

“I don't know. I feel like I overdid a little.”

“Well, you were extremely talkative today. But everything was amazing.” She noticed his worried eyes. “What's wrong, Buggy? Are you worried about something?”

“No! I mean yes. Tell me you meant all that.” He said quietly and looked into her eyes.

“What? Are you still afraid of s~.”

“Cathie-pie, please.”

“Of course, my blue-haired love.” Catherine gently kissed him on his lips. “I meant every word. I promise. You can protect me. I know you will protect me. Come on, you saved me from the cage! And I won't hurt you. And I won't leave you. And you're safe with me. And you know why?” She stroked his hair. “Because I love you so, so much, my Buggy Bear.”

“Love you too, my cotton candy. Hey, listen... Can I ask a question?”

“I guess the fact that you're still inside me doesn't give me the right to refuse?” She chuckled. “Ask me anything you want.” She ran her fingers over his stubble.

“I’m hungry again, and I missed your pancakes. Will you make me some?”

27 notes · View notes

emmywrites-blog · 2 years

Text

our duty

pairing: prince paul (catherine the great) x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k

genre: angst, fluff, & smut

summary: your brief marriage to Prince Paul of Russia has consisted of minimal interactions between the both of you. you decide that confronting your husband was the only way to come to a conclusion of what your marriage would be.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI. cursing, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, dirty talk.

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so PLEASE leave some feedback, it is very much appreciated.

You had spent the past month in preparation for your marriage to Prince Paul of Russia. It wasn’t a marriage you had any say in, not that most women did. Your parents were happy enough to marry you off to a wealthy man, let alone a Prince. It guaranteed them financial stability and a high reigning status. In their opinion, it was a win-win for everyone involved. They no longer worried about their reputation, you fulfilled your duty as a woman, and Paul would eventually receive an heir.

Your interactions with Prince Paul were minuscule and brief, consisting of simple introductions and hello’s. You couldn’t say whether you liked the man or simply tolerated him. Your opinions of him surrounded his seemingly tasteless personality. Paul was quiet, but not in a way that would conclude him as shy, no…it seemed as though he only interacted with those that he deemed ‘worthy’, and you? Well you had no idea where you were placed on that list. Surely not high.

Even on your wedding night, you barely spoke after the ceremony. The longest conversation you had was when Paul decided that you two would be retiring for the night,

“I believe we both have had enough of these affairs today, we might as well retire for the night.” Paul spoke, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes scanned the room, landing anywhere except your face.

You weren’t surprised, he hadn’t even made eye contact with you earlier that day as you both stood in front of the priest. He had caused many thought’s to rush through your brain while the priest's mumbling echoed through the columns of your ears, ‘Was I pretty enough? Did he like my dress? God, my makeup must be horrid’. All the while, Paul kept his eyes on your cheek.

You nodded at his request and gave a polite smile to the people around you, “Yes, of course.” You responded and let him lead the way to your bed chambers.

It had been a whole week since the wedding, and the only words you exchanged were in passing. Paul spent most of his time in his office, working with finances or whatever it was a Prince did. You attended the introductions, meeting people of high standing. It was quite boring. At the end of the day you both would retire to your separate bed chambers, the only thing separating you was the large wooden door that connected both of your rooms.

You were now pacing the hardwood floors of your room, thinking of a way, any way, that you could get Paul to like you. It was clear he didn’t, he couldn’t, not with the amount of time he spent away from you. You slid your hands down the front of your dress, as though it was a fragile piece of linen.

It was an expensive gown, made of baby blue fabric that had a subtle shine to it. It was nicer than any other dress you ever had at home. Strands of your hair fell along your chest, detached from the bun you had diligently been forced to wear earlier that morning by your dressing maids.

You took a deep breath and took the few brief steps towards the door that connected yours and Paul's room. You lifted your hand, placing a rhythmic knock along the hard wood with your knuckles.

“Yes?” You could hear spoken from inside, causing your mind to flood with all the possible annoyances you had already caused Paul. Was he annoyed by the mere sound of your knock? Would he be annoyed by the sound of your voice?

You cleared your throat before speaking, “Can I come in?” You asked through the door, feeling as though it was silly to be acting like this with your husband. You were having a conversation through a door. After not hearing an answer, you snatched the door knob in your palm and turned it, pulling the door wide open.

Paul was stood by the desk in his chambers, hands fiddling with multiple, seemingly important, papers. He was dressed as he would normally be in his boldly coloured suit, the decorative sword hanging from his hip. He lacked his obnoxious wig though, his soft brown curls on display.

Paul looked up almost immediately when you opened the door, raising a brow on his pale face, “Is there something I could be of assistance with?” He asked, clearly not feeling the need to have a casual conversation with you. It wasn’t shocking.

You shook your head and clasped your hands just below your breasts as you took a few steps into his bed chambers, your heels clacking softly, “We just haven’t talked much, or at all, really.” You began, your voice a bit shaky with unsurety, “I wanted to confirm that I hadn’t done anything wrong, to anger you. It’s just- I find it strange…”

Paul placed a hand on his hip and held his papers loosely in one hand, staring at you. You were framed perfectly in the large doorway, causing him to hesitate before speaking, “You find what strange?” He inquired, “I don’t have time for silly games.”

Your mouth gaped open for a moment, not entirely expecting the attitude that was radiating off of Paul’s figure, “I find it strange that we haven’t spent time together,” You admitted, shaking your head a bit, “And I don’t just mean having dinner together or drinking tea, you haven’t even…we haven’t…” You trailed off, hoping Paul would know what you were getting at.

He let out a low groan and threw his papers on his desk, both hands on his hips now, “Use your words, woman.” He demanded.

Your face grew red, the embarrassment of what you were going to say rushing through you as though it was in your blood, “We haven’t consummated our wedding.” You stated simply, picking at your fingernails anxiously, “Why?”

Paul tilted his head to the side as he listened to you speak. This was the first time that you actually felt as though he was listening to you, looking at you, and of course it had to be the one time you mentioned sex, “So that’s what you want? To have sex?” He asked you. It almost sounded as though he was teasing you. Amused at your expense.

You shook your hand and breathed deep, causing your breasts to push against the neckline of your dress, “No,” You challenged, shaking your head, “Why did you marry me? Did you even want a wife? It feels as though you see me as nothing more than a stranger.”

Paul took slow and steady steps towards you, but he kept a fair amount of distance, “Did I want a wife?” He asked, clarifying your question, “It doesn’t matter if I wanted a wife, does it? It is my duty to marry, and you are the one I married.”

You dropped your hands to your side, looking up at Paul's face, “I am nothing more than a duty?” You tested, letting the small amount of anger slip past your lips in a hiss, “That is not how a marriage works, Paul. Not how it should work. My duty is to give you an heir, so why haven’t you touched me? You haven’t even held my hand!”

Paul watched you as though you were a toddler throwing a tantrum, a brow cocked in amusement, “You are a fiery woman.” He stated simply, his eyes examining over your body swiftly, “Our marriage has no need to consist of those things, not until it is necessary.”

You knitted your brows together, causing a crease to form between them, “Until it is necessary?” You repeated, shaking your head softly, “Without any care, you have subjected both of us to a life without love? Why won’t you try, Paul? Can you not see yourself loving me?”

Paul suddenly stepped closer to you, a gentle grasp making its way around your jaw. It wasn’t aggressive, not like how you would have expected from Paul, it was calm and soft, “Have I said that I do not love you?” He asked, his brown eyes gazing into yours for what felt like the first time.

You shook your head and felt yourself shudder slightly under Paul’s touch, “You haven’t said that you do…” You whispered, your breath cascading over Paul's hand that held your jaw, “You do not act like you love me. You refused my gaze on our wedding night. You haven’t had a conversation with me that has been anything more than formalities. You sleep in the room right next to mine though you have yet to come visit me. You expect me to believe that you love me?”

“You want that from me?” Paul inquired, moving his hand so he was cupping your cheek, “You want me to tell you how intimidated I was by your beauty? How I was sure you must have had a love back home, someone you were longing to hold again? How every night I dreamt of the way you looked in that white dress?”

You felt confusion invade your features, spilling itself across your forehead, “You dreamt of me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You saw the pure expression of admiration on Paul’s face, the way his eyes wandered over your sparse freckles, occasionally splitting down to your collarbone.

“Everynight.” Paul repeated, nodding, “I believed you wouldn’t want me to touch you, or to even look at you. You were so beautiful at our wedding…Like an angel.” Paul's demeanour had seemed to switch swiftly from that of teasing and mockery, to pure longing.

You reached up, letting your hand fit perfectly against Paul's jaw, your thumb stroking against his skin, “Why didn’t you just try?” You asked him, noticing the quick splash of fear in his eyes.

“A forced marriage isn’t exactly a woman’s dream.” Paul joked, letting his hands mould onto the waist of your dress, bringing you closer to his body with a careful tug.

You couldn’t help but smile at his stupidity. He believed you wouldn’t want him? Had he seen himself? You tilted your head to the side, “Are you telling me that you do indeed love me?” You finally coaxed.

Paul leaned into the touch of your hand, “Completely.” He whispered before leaning forward, securing your lips in a long awaited kiss. His lips were soft like silk as they moved against yours, his hands tightening themselves on your waist, “I’m sorry I left you waiting.” He apologized through kisses.

Your stomach fluttered as his sudden display of longing, the way his hands grabbed at you as if you were his life line, “You’re here now.” You replied before slipping your hands to his jacket, pushing it down his shoulders so it hung at his elbows.

“Eager.” Your husband spoke with a hint of playfulness, causing you to gently push his chest. Paul took off his jacket and let it hit the floor before slipping his hands to the back of your dress, his fingers playing out over the buttons that secured your bodice, “They make these as difficult as possible…”

You looked up at Paul before turning around so your back was facing him. He lifted his hands to your neck, pushing away the stray strands of hair that had fallen from your bun. He leaned over you, placing a delicate kiss where your collarbone and shoulder meet. Paul worked his fingers down the row of buttons, swiftly getting them undone so he could push your bodice down.

You blushed at the circumstances, feeling as though this was too much work, it would have been easier in your nightgown, “I should have visited you later tonight.” You whispered softly as another gentle kiss landed on the back of your neck, causing you to let out a content sigh.

The cold air hit your chest, leaving goosebumps behind in its wake. You helped Paul push your bodice down your body, your skirt following. The material hit the wood floor, leaving you in your undergarment and heels.

“No, now was the perfect time.” Paul responded, his breath moving across the back of your neck and along your shoulders. He placed his hands on your covered hips, the only thing separating his calloused hands from your soft skin being the thin material of cotton you wore. Paul pressed his chest to your back, pressing his lips to the spot just behind your ear, “You’re so beautiful…”

You turned in Paul's arms, looking up at him with those soft eyes he had fallen for the moment he saw you for the first time. You smiled sheepishly, “All I wanted was to be in your arms. To have you hold me.”

Paul raised a brow and looked down your body curiously, “That’s all?” He teased before taking your hand, leading you closer to his bed. He swiftly pushed your thighs against the edge of his mattress, causing you to fall back onto his bed, “I find it hard to believe that all you wanted was for me to hold you. You came in here raving about sex, surely that has to do with it as well, no?”

A tint of red quickly spread across your face as you rested on your elbows, allowing yourself to look at Paul from where he stood by your legs, “I…I was just confused…” You challenged nervously, shaking your head at the notion that what you wanted from him was sex. You wanted him, all of him. You wanted the longing gazes and the tantalizing touches. You wanted your fingers to be interlocked as you walked the halls of your home.

Paul’s hands gripped one of your ankles before pulling off the heel that had been torturing your feet all day. His hot breath ran along your calf before he placed a clean kiss to your ankle, “Confused? Or curious?” He asked for clarification, but his tone held an underlying tinge of taunting.

Your husband moved on to your other leg, taking off your painful shoe before placing a similar kiss to that ankle as well. He took his time to appreciate you, letting his undoubtedly hungry eyes scan your body similarly to the way he scanned boring documents. Paul snaked kisses along your calves, appreciating the silkiness of your skin.

Your eyes gazed at him, taking in his appearance. He looked like a painted portrait, the kind you would see in an age-old palace. The sun shining in from the windows illuminated his skin with a warm glow, his brown hair was effortlessly unstyled, and his bottom lip was pulled gently between his teeth as he focused his chocolatey brown eyes on your body.

“Paul,” You started, your voice breathy and unsure, “I find it…unfair, that you are completely dressed.” You sucked in a deep breath, almost as though what you said was wrong, not something you were supposed to say. It was incredibly normalised for women to talk about how little they enjoyed their husbands touching them, how they simply let them get off as soon as possible, how they laid in the bed and let their husbands have their way, but you wanted to like it, love it even.

Your husband didn’t attempt to hide the smirk that formed on his face at your discovery, “Well yes, you’re quite right.” He stated before gently letting your legs drop to the bed, his hands now sliding up the length of his torso. He started at his vest, unbuttoning it with delicate yet efficient fingers, throwing it to the floor once he was done. He was left in his cream undershirt and incredibly obnoxious green pants. Paul's hands slid under the hem of his pants though, pulling out his shirt so it was untucked.

You craved him, the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. You were aware of the intricacies of sex, not that you had ever experienced it, but spending your time as a rebellious young socialite had allowed you to hear some things along the way.

You lifted yourself so you were sitting and moved closer to Paul, now kneeling on the mattress. Your hands lifted to the collar of his undershirt, playing with the frayed strings and loose stitching, “Do you want this?” You then inquired, letting your unsurety get the best of you, clouding your thoughts with unnecessary questions, “Do you want, or desire, to have sex with me?”

Paul’s eyes gaze down at you as though you were insane, his brows knitted across his forehead in a confused expression, “Do I want to? Darling, I’ve dreamt of this.” He admitted, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face.

You instinctively leaned into his touch, looking at him through your lashes, “Then make your dream come to life…” You whispered, barely loud enough for either of you to hear, but Paul did, he heard you.

And with that, he pressed his lips to yours in a passionate and hungry kiss, his other hand coming around your body, holding you close to him. The kiss alighted butterflies in your stomach, swirling angrily yet excitedly. Paul’s tongue along your bottom lip only made the feeling heavier, initiating a soft sigh to escape past your lips. Your tongues moved in sync, happily fighting as you tasted each other for the first time.

Paul lifted your chemise, slowly pushing it up the length of your body, exposing your skin to the temperature of the room. You let him lift it over your head and immediately tucked your bottom lip between your teeth while he leaned back, taking you in.

His eyes gazed at every inch of you, the whole of your body exposed to his longing eyes. He settled his hands on your hips, his rough fingers squeezing softly at your supple skin, “Even more beautiful than I had imagined…” He revealed, causing your heart to race.

You moved your hands to Paul’s pants, unbuttoning them swiftly, “Take them off.” You commanded, earning a cheeky smile from your husband. He did as you said and took off his pants, sliding them down his legs before stepping out. His undershirt conveniently covered his groin, stopping at his mid thigh.

Paul wrapped his arms around you and laid you on the bed, making sure to softly set your head on a pillow. He attached his lips to the column of your throat, leaving sloppy and wet splotches wherever he went. Paul neared your ear, his hot breath causing your body to shiver, “I like when you’re bossy.” He whispered, his words throaty.

You moaned out as he nipped at your ear lobe, shifting his hips in between your legs. You could feel his growing erection as it pressed against your cunt, the wetness of your arousal spreading onto the length of it, “Paul…” You shuddered, his lips attacking your collarbone.

He just hummed and moved his lips down your body, coming to your breasts. Paul sucked on the base of your breast before slowly taking your nipple into his mouth. He looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes while continuing to assault your breast with his tongue.

You moved a hand to his hair while your other rested on his shoulder, your fingertips digging into his skin, “Ah, fuck…” You moaned out, your eyes fluttering closed as your back arched. Paul swirled his tongue around your nipple, lightly nipping at it occasionally, eliciting gasps from your throat.

“Open your eyes my love, look at me.” Paul urged, reaching the hand that wasn’t playing with your other breast, setting it on your jaw. He swiped his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing it past your parted lips, “Suck.”

You immediately did as he said, wrapping your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue along the tip of it while he tended to your other breast. Your moaning was muffled into hums as you watched Paul, his cheeks caving slightly while his lips secured themselves around your nipple.

Paul placed a kiss in the middle of your chest and placed both of his hands under your knees, pushing your thighs closer to your torso as his plump lips moved closer to your clit.

You gasped softly as the realization hit you, the realization of what Paul was going to do, “You don’t have to…” Your shaky voice offered. You knew men didn’t attend to their wives needs, just got on with what they wanted and finished quickly. Surely Paul was the same.

Paul looked into your eyes from where his lips were connected just under your belly button, “Have to?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow before moving lower, his lips just above your clit, “No baby, I want to.” And with that, he placed a small kiss to your clit, a gasp immediately passing your lips.

You tangled your fingers into his brown curls, “Yes, yes…” You moaned as Paul flicked his tongue out, lapping at your clit hungrily. He was acting as though you were his life source, as though if he didn’t please you as much as he could, he would surely turn to dust.

Paul sucked on your clit before moving his mouth down, pushing his tongue in between the folds of your pussy, happily cleaning up any of the arousal that was lingering at your entrance. He left one hand on your thigh while the other moved to your pubic bone. Paul flicked his thumb against your clit, causing you to arch your back.

“You are so pretty,” Paul started, his breath running over the sensitive skin between your legs, “I love hearing you moan.”

You smiled lazily at his words and connected your eyes with his, “You’re so good.” You praised, earning a smirk from your husband.

Paul played with your clit slowly before lowering his hand, pressing the tip of his middle finger to your entrance, “I can be better. I wanna hear you moan my name.” His middle finger pushed all of the way into you, his index and ring finger pressed against the lips of your cunt.

You gasped and threw your head back at the unfamiliar feeling. You had never had anything inside of you, and you had never expected it to feel this good. You looked back down at Paul and moaned at the grin he had on his face, watching you revel in the way he could make you feel, “Paul, please.” You moaned.

Paul slowly pulled his finger out so only the tip of it was inside you, “Please what?” He asked, the power of making you feel good getting to his head, “You have to tell me what you want me to do.” His request made you whine, feeling embarrassed at the thought of saying what it was you truly wanted.

“I want you. I want you to make me feel good, please.” You begged, your voice going up an octave to Paul’s delight. He slowly pushed his finger back into your sopping cunt, feeling the way you welcomed him and pulled him in. Paul began his torment, pushing his finger in and out of you at a slow pace, “Faster.”

Paul kept his pace, refusing your request all while pushing in his ring finger. You arched your back and gasped, your breath shuddering at the feeling, “Ask properly. Use your manners.”

Paul’s attitude made you even more aroused. The way he demanded things from you while he pleased you in a way no other man could. You could just tell, he fucking loved the way he was making you feel, “Please go faster.” You finally breathed out, your breath turning to a moan as Paul quickened his pace.

A knot started to build in your stomach at the pace of his fingers, the way he curled them inside of you, the way he pressed gentle kisses to your clit. Paul flattened his tongue against your clit, causing you to pull his head closer if that was even possible. His fingers sped up on their own, his lips wrapped around your clit as they sucked harshly.

“Come on my love,” Paul spoke softly, feeling the way your walls clenched around his fingers. He could tell you were close, just by the way you moved your hips against his hand and whispered his name, “Cum for me.”

You did just as he asked and moaned out loudly while your body shuddered, cumming all over his fingers, “Yes, Paul!” You called out, tugging at his chocolate curls. You panted, your legs shaking as Paul pulled his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth, “Fuck.”

Paul smirked and watched your reaction to his actions, slowly crawling up your body until his face was hovering over yours, “Such a filthy mouth.” He teased before leaning down, securing your lips in a short but sweet kiss, “You want me?” Paul asked and pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, throwing the fabric to the floor.

His body was finally revealed to you, his toned chest and abdomen, the trail of brown hair that led to his erect cock. It was huge, definitely bigger than you had expected. You hadn’t ever seen a man's dick, so you didn’t know what to expect, but this…this was something else.

As if sensing your concern at his size, Paul placed a hand on the side of your face, making you look at him, “We will go slow.” He assured, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of doubt, anything that told him you no longer wanted him, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in for a kiss, your brows furrowing at the pure admiration you felt, “I want you,” You told him, your tone full of surety, “Don’t you want me to…well…” You trailed off as your face grew hot, turning beet red.

Paul looked down at you with a confused expression before understanding what you were saying. He smirked at the embarrassment evident on your face, finding it cute, “Do I want you to blow me?” He asked, his assumption being confirmed as you shyly nodded, “No, no. Today is about you.”

You gazed at the man hovering over you, feeling love filling your chest. He just wanted to make you feel good. He didn’t care about receiving anything. You felt as though Paul was truly the most perfect man, fighting all of the judgements you had made about him. He wanted you to be happy, that was the exact reason he had avoided you all along. He never believed he could be the reason for your happiness.

You kissed him swiftly and cupped his face in your hands, attempting to pour all of the love you felt for him into that one kiss. Paul kissed you back, one hand holding himself up while the other settled on a comfortable spot on your waist.

“Show me.” You breathed, shifting slightly underneath Paul, making sure that you were comfortable.

You felt Paul’s confused look on you, “Show you what?”

You smiled and ran your thumbs along his cheeks lovingly, “Show me you love me.” You requested, moving your legs so they were wrapped around Paul’s waist.

Paul’s expression turned to that of blissful happiness before pressing a kiss to your lips. He reached between the two of you, swiping his thumb along your clit. His mind became cloudy with lust as you moaned into his mouth.

You looked down as you felt Paul push the head of his cock against your entrance, “Tell me if you need me to stop.” He spoke from above you before swiftly sliding the head of his erection into you.

You gasped at the feeling, the way your walls immediately tightened around him, leaving you with a burning feeling as he slid deeper into you. You were about to tell him to stop, to give you a moment, until you heard the groan that came from Paul’s throat. It awakened this need inside you, the need to hear it again.

You slipped your hands around his waist, pulling him closer to you, “Please,” You whispered, turning your gaze up to him, “I want to feel all of you.”

Paul obliged and pushed himself into you, as far as he could go until his balls were pressed against your ass. He rested his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily, “You feel so goddamn good,” He shuddered, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of your neck.

He gave you a moment to get used to his size as you let out shaky breaths. The pain of him soon turned to pleasure and you pushed at his chest, “I’m okay, please,” You nodded, gulping as you looked down where you two were joined together, “Love me, Paul.”

Paul readjusted how he was sitting. He knelt on his knees and placed his hands on your hips, beginning to slowly move back and forth, taking his time with you. He let out a shaky moan as he sped up a bit, “God, you are so good.” He whispered, looking at your face as he thrusted into you.

You moaned, reaching out so you could take one of the hands he had on your hips. You interlocked your fingers while your other hand gripped the sheets on his bed, “Paul,” You felt another climax building already, so quickly after your last orgasm.

Your husband started to pound into you, the sound of your bodies connecting echoed throughout the room. He lifted your interlocked hand to the space next to your face, holding your hands there as he gripped your hip with his other hand. The tips of his fingers dug into the skin on your hip, just causing you to moan even louder than you had been before.

Paul threw his head back as his pace sped up, “You’re so beautiful,” He started, his words coming out as a moan, “You feel so good around my cock. Perfect.”

His words made your body flush and your back arch, your belly knotting once again, “I’m gonna cum, Paul…” You whispered out, embarrassed at how easily he made you feel good.

“Yeah? You’re gonna cum from my cock?” He asked, moving his eyes to where you connected, a growl escaping his throat, “You look so pretty when you cum.”

Paul’s words caused you to gasp, gripping his hand tighter as your legs shook, the orgasm taking over your body. Your husband just continued to pound into you, groans filling the air around you. His own orgasm was building quickly, his hips moving inconsistently while thrusting into you.

“Fuck, yes,” Paul moaned as he pushed all of his length into you, releasing his cum inside of you. White streams flowing inside of you. He leaned down and placed a slow kiss to your lips, both of you breathing heavily, “You were so good, my love.”

Paul soon pulled out of you and rolled onto his back next to you, lifting an arm to rest behind his head. He turned his gaze to you, taking in your appearance. How strands of your hair stuck to your neck, how your body gleamed with a thin sheet of sweat, how your hands rested on your stomach.

“Come here,” Paul suggested before slipping his arm around your torso, pulling you to him. You intertwined your legs, his cock pressed softly against your thigh while your arm wrapped around his waist, your head resting on his chest, “Sleep my love, we’ll have an early breakfast tomorrow. Go for a walk around the garden.”

You looked up at him, a content smile spreading across your lips, “Together?”

Paul nodded, placing a kiss on your forehead, “Together.”

#prince paul angst #prince paul fluff #prince paul x you #prince paul #prince paul x reader #smut #prince paul smut #prince paul fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you

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to-the-stars8 · 3 months

Text

Faith

Summary: Keeping faith was never easy for Jason, and the struggle creates a war in his mind that hangs between self-destructing and outright torment.

This was inspired by the artwork of @lethologicaee

Just letting you guys know that this story has a lot of heavy religious references and reflections of trauma, so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not engage with this story. Keep yourself healthy and happy, my loves.

Another warning, referenced drug use

Jason couldn’t remember what he saw after he died—if he saw anything. He only remembered seeing the Joker followed by waking up to darkness and the smell of dirt. The moment his eyes opened, not seeing but feeling the softness of his coffin, two things ran through his mind: Bruce and the noticeable absence of God.

There was never a moment in Jason’s life when he was a religious fanatic, but there were a few years with Catherine when he went to church semi-regularly. It was right after Willis had gone to jail and before his mother had fully developed her addiction. She had come to rely on religion for some comfort and tried to teach Jason to do the same.

“How come we’re going to church now?” He had asked as she buttoned up one of his nicer jackets. His hands were still too small to properly do it himself, and they were already running late.

She thinned her lips, thinking, and her sacred blue eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment before going back down to the buttons. “I think going to church could be good for us. I think we’ve run out of faith, and it could teach us to get it back again. To keep going.”

Jason grumbled, slightly annoyed that he had to get up so early on a Sunday morning, “And we need to go to church for that?”

“Yes,” Catherine said pointedly.

The Gotham Parish Church was one of the biggest and one of the nicest in the city. It had been around not long before the Waynes had come and was kept up by donations from other rich Gothamite families. It was a rare beauty in the Gotham smog. A diamond on the outside, he knew for sure, but he couldn't quite say the same for the inside of it.

Jason remembered finding it odd that he had to kneel in front of a big wooden Jesus figure but did it anyway as he followed Catherine’s lead. He stared at the figure, it was painted with vivid browns, beiges, and reds, and it left him feeling a little sad. He wondered why a man would die for people who did not care for nor knew him. He supposed it was for his godly father.

The only reason he kept going to church willingly was for his mother. When he looked up at Catherine during prayer, he’d seen her smile for the first time in a while. She looked happy, almost younger, even. The stress from her face faded and she looked at him with so much love coupled with optimism.

He found something similar in feeling, but couldn’t determine if it was Catherine’s contagious hopefulness or Father Thomas’ sermon of goodness in people. Eventually, Jason began to like the weekly routine and even found solace in it. He wondered if that feeling was the holy light Father Thomas talked about.

Then, he found Catherine sitting on her bed with a needle in her arm.

Jason tried to get her help, going to Father Thomas and begging him to do something. He only patted him on the head and said, “If she has faith then God will deliver from this sin.”

Jason had felt terrified and angry. Terrified because how could he get his mother to get more faithful, especially at her lowest, when he hardly knew the meaning of it? And, was angry, because he could not fathom the sin she was committing. What kind of god would abandon someone who was sick, much less mark them as a sinner?

It stirred a holy turmoil within Jason’s young mind that came to a sudden end when he found Catherine dead on the bathroom floor. Because, with her, Jason’s faith had died, too. It wasn’t until he was in Wayne Manor did he found a little bit of that again. It wasn’t the holy kind of faith, but, rather, the faith in love. With Bruce, he began to pray again and believed that, maybe, God was still there.

Bruce wasn’t religious himself, but always told him that it was always worth believing in something. That gave Jason the courage to ask Alfred, who had mentioned that now and then he would attend church if he could join him on one of those occasions. Ultimately, nothing ever came of it. Jason tried not to dwell on what he could have been if he had gone with Alfred.

Then, there was Sheila, and Jason had prayed for the past. He wanted a mother who he could look up to in the church light and believe wholeheartedly in God again.

Sheila had welcomed him with open arms, but, in the end, his faith in her was ripped from him. Yet, there was still Bruce who would save him— Both of them. The love he felt for Bruce was immeasurable, just as if they had always been father and son. It was because of him Jason died still believing.

Now, back from the dead, all that he was left with was anger and grief. He was angry at Bruce and God, and he grieved for the boy he used to be. With Bruce, his resentment was built off of another failed father who turned away; with God, it was deeper than just that. It was a fit of animalistic, sacred anger that made him want to tear the heart out of the very idea of faith with his bare teeth. Jason felt more of a fool when it came to God, tricked into hoping—praying—only to be turned away in the end.

Did he not believe in God enough, or would he have to get down on his hands and knees to beg for an unknown forgiveness?

Jason knew it would be pathetic for him to do it, to beg for the forgiveness of another father who abandoned him, but he would do it. He’d do it until the golden rosary cut into his hands, his knees had bruises, and his mouth ran dry from begging. He’d scream and cry for it if he had to.

He questioned if had sinned too much—If, in his initial hallowed anger, he had turned into Cain. Jason had offered the best of himself, but God had not favored him as he did others. The thought made him bitter. Jason knew it had to be a fault within him rather than God; that he didn't have the innate goodness he thought all people had. If he ever had it.

Each time he looked at the blood on his hands, Jason only thought of one thing, the noticeable absence of God.

#catholic jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #clark kent #batfam #alfred pennyworth #dc robin #damian wayne #jason todd fic #jason todd needs a hug #jason todd red hood #jason todd centric #religious trauma #religious themes #jason todd imagine

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thou-babbling-brook · 8 months

Text

Cold Feet

AO3

Rating: G

Word Count: 2216

Tags: Davenport Homestead, Assassin's Creed III, American Revolution, Canon Compliant, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, "The Wedding" Mission

Summary: Connor convinces Myriam to start her new life with Norris. Set during "The Wedding" Homestead mission between the chase sequence and the wedding scene. Hope you guys enjoy!

Connor would be the first to admit that he knew little to nothing about colonial wedding customs. Aside from a few comprehensive history and culture lessons from his teen years when he first traveled to Achilles, Connor knew nothing about the complexities of colonial weddings. Father Timothy had been kind enough to explain a few key details, such as “giving” Myriam away at the altar (which Connor was more than happy to do for his old friend), but details slipped Connor’s mind from time to time over the next several days of intense planning and preparation.

But there was one thing that Connor was sure they did not include: chasing the bride in question through the snow-covered trees minutes before her wedding.

The day began with as much chaos as one would expect. Before the roosters began to crow, nearly every member of the Homestead bustled about preparing for the joyous celebration. Oliver and Corrine worked hard preparing their finest wines for the occasion while preparing the livestock meat and crops gathered by Warren and Prudence – and of course, little baby Hunter, who cooed excitedly against his mother’s back. Once finished organizing the food, Prudence and Corrine joined the ladies in adorning Myriam in fine, comfortable fabrics suitable for the huntress. Ellen poked needles into the sides to ensure the stitching was up to par, while Diana and Catherine squawked at Connor and Norris for accidentally stepping near the bride’s suite (which Connor did not dare remind the ladies was his home).

In the meantime, Big Dave and Lance worked tirelessly to adorn both the inn and the church with banners and decor fit for the Homestead’s very first wedding. Big Dave lifted the chubby woodworker up to pin the wooden posts on the side of the inn, waving to Terry and Godfrey as the lumberers warned Norris of the horrors of marriage to come.

“You’ll ne’er be right ‘bout anythin’ again, ya hear me, boy?” Godfrey teased as he slapped his palm against Norris’s back.

“Aye, and forget about havin’ the covers to yerself! You’ll be shiverin’ like a leaf!” Terry explained. Norris merely laughed and shook his head.

In the church, Dr. White and Achilles aided Father Timothy in preparing his short sermon, arranging the pews, and finishing the final touches hours before the wedding. Even the Assassin recruits were more than happy to help with the preparations. Stephane set to work in the kitchen alongside Oliver to cater the large meal ahead. Duncan, ever the Catholic, assisted Father Timothy in rehearsing his sermon. Jacob offered his wisdom for marriage while he straightened Norris’s hair, while Dobby stood guard outside Myriam’s dressing room in case of wandering eyes from stray men. Clipper and Jamie helped Mr. Faulkner and the crew of the Aquila find their drunken ways to the church, all while Connor wandered about and assisted where he could.

So, given the day’s chaotic events, it was not surprising to Connor as he announced happily to the pacing Norris that all was in order that Myriam was “missing.” After all, the ladies had only just left her room. How much trouble could the huntress find herself in?

Apparently, thought Connor as he raced through the trees and leapt through the branches, quite a lot.

“Leave me be!” Myriam shouted as she jumped to the next branch, a stray branch slowing her down as it caught on her white dress. It was not enough to stop her, but it was enough for Connor to come within speaking distance.

“Why do you run?!” Connor replied, his voice echoing through the forest with concern lacing his tone. He swung to the next branch, careful not to slip and even more careful to ensure Myriam did not.

“Leave me be!” Myriam exclaimed. She crossed over to the next tree in an attempt to throw Connor off her trail. “I’m no housewife!”

Connor’s brow furrowed. While he could not necessarily speak for the entire Homestead, “housewife” would be one of the last descriptors attributed to Myriam. She was a huntress, and a respectable one at that. Through his confusion, Connor quickly ducked through another tree and sprinted across the large, sturdy branch. “No one thinks you are one!”

Myriam slid down a fallen tree, stumbling into the snow before whirling around to face Connor. “That’s what all of this means!”

A silence passed between the two as flurries of snow cascaded around them. Myriam sighed, grabbing her crown of flowers and tossing it to the ground. She sunk to the snowy ground and hid her face in her knees.

Quietly, Connor knelt beside Myriam. Lifting the flower crown into his hands, he joined her in the blanket of snow. He said nothing, only silently thumbing the daffodils adorning her crown. The two sat for a moment while gazing over the rushing river, watching as it cascaded over weathered rocks. Myriam reached forward and threw one into the water. When it sank to the bottom of the river, she huffed angrily through her nose.

“I don’t want to be some housewife that sits around waiting for her husband to come home,” she explained, tossing her hands into the air in frustration. “That’s not who I am. I’m not… I’m not some lady wanting to be kept pregnant and barefoot!”

“No one thinks you are one,” Connor repeated gently. Myriam shot a glare at the hulking man, Connor shrinking in on himself in response despite his size.

“That’s what this means! This whole wedding! Shoving me into this stuffy dress, preparing me to take vows, giving me away!” She stood, pacing by the riverside. She gave Connor an apologetic look. “No offense. If I want anyone to give me away, it would be you.”

Connor rose and nodded his head. “None taken. But what is it that causes you to believe that you will become a housewife?”

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Myriam groaned before settling her hands on her hips and staring out into the river. “I… I don’t know!” She tossed her hands in the air again, rustling her hair and pacing back and forth. “I don’t belong inside a house cooking and cleaning and caring for a husband and an entire brood of children. I belong in the open air, in my hunting blinds, with my rifle in my hands!” Her hands formed the gesture of her weapon in question. Then, they fell to her sides. “If I marry Norris… I’ll be leaving behind all of my freedom that I worked so hard to gain.”

Stepping closer, Connor laid a hand on Myriam’s back. “That is not true,” he murmured quietly. “You know that better than I. Norris wants only for you to be happy.”

“Do I?” Myriam asked. Her voice faltered and she turned her nose to the rushing river. “What if, when we get married, all he wants is for me to sit at home and… I don’t know, wash his feet?”

Connor unintentionally wrinkled his nose. At the very least, the gesture provided a quick laugh for the two hunters. The uncomfortable silence returned soon after, broken only by the sounds of quiet chirping and rustling bushes.

“Norris did not fall in love with a housewife,” Connor finally spoke up. He met Myriam’s gaze with his own, gentle eyes. “Why would he expect such?”

“All men do,” Myriam sighed.

“I do not.”

“You are not all men.”

Connor glanced down at the flower crown in his hands, thumbing over the white petals. “Perhaps I am not.”

Myriam pinched her nose again. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend–”

“No, it is alright,” Connor assured her. His brows furrowed in thought while Myriam squinted into the horizon. Then, a candle sparked in his mind. “How much do you know of my people, Myriam?”

“I don’t see the point of your question,” Myriam remarked tersely. When Connor gave a serious expression, she sighed. “But to answer it, not much.”

He moved in front of Myriam. “I think you would like it very much. For my people, it is the women who lead. We may have chiefs and war councils, but these men are voted upon by our women. Clan Mothers lead the village. We trace our ancestry through our mothers. For women, marriage is not just a union of the husband and wife, but of the village to the couple.”

Myriam raised a brow. “Your point?”

Placing the flower crown upon her head, Connor continued. “You are not a housewife, but even if you were, it would not change who you are. You are a skillful leader and hunter. Norris knows this. He marries you because of it, not in spite of it. He admires you for who you are. You need be nothing else. And by marrying Norris, you unite our friends as a whole, too.”

Silently, Myriam adjusted the crown and tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” He cracked a rare smile. “Besides, you are a better shot than Norris. If anyone will be the housewife, it will be him.”

Myriam snorted. “The bad part is that I think he would enjoy being a housewife.” Her shoulders shook as she began to laugh. “Could you imagine? Me, coming home with a pipe of tobacco sticking out of my mouth, my rifle on my back, and hares in my hands while Norris cooks and cleans?”

Connor chuckled, then gently led Myriam towards the path leading to the church. “But you cannot imagine such a fate until you are wed.”

“No,” Myriam smiled, “I suppose I can’t.” As they reached the church, Myriam turned to Connor with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“I’m scared.”

Connor nodded. “I know.”

“What do I do?”

“What do you do when you face a cougar?”

“I shoot it. Are you suggesting I shoot Norris?”

“No, but I am suggesting that you face him like you would any animal.” He laid his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “You are a strong, cunning woman, Myriam. He loves you deeply. He would not be marrying you if he had no intention of respecting you.”

Myriam inhaled sharply. “How do I get over it?”

“The fear?”

“No, the weather – what else would there be?”

“You won’t,” chimed a gentle, soft voice. Prudence and Ellen emerged from behind the church. Ellen offered Myriam her bouquet of flowers while Prudence wrapped a white shawl around her shivering shoulders. Prudence patted her cheek. “When I married Warren years ago, I was terrified of our future. But you learn, in marriage, that you are both equally frightened.” She giggled along with Ellen and Myriam.

Ellen took Myriam’s hands in her own. “My marriage was an unhappy one,” she confessed. Connor looked on solemnly, catching Ellen’s somber gaze for a mere second before Ellen mustered a smile. “But I can offer this wisdom: a good husband will cherish his wife for her talents, her wit, her love, her devotion, and her faith. Norris practically worships the ground you walk on. He will make a fine husband.”

Myriam sniffled. “Fuck,” she cursed. “I can’t believe I’m crying like some… some old hag!” Prudence and Ellen laughed, rubbing Myriam’s shoulders before holding her tightly.

“Besides,” Prudence cooed, staring over Myriam’s shoulder into Connor’s watchful gaze, “once we have you and Norris married, we can finally focus our attention on finding Connor a wife.”

Cheeks flushing, Connor brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “That will not be necessary.”

“Oh, hush, Prudence,” Ellen giggled. “We mustn't scare him from the prospect yet.” She turned back to Myriam, kissing her cheek. “We have to go back inside, but we will support you no matter what.” Prudence nodded in agreement before waving goodbye, giggling alongside Ellen as they hurried into the church.

Myriam rubbed her arms and faced Connor, walking with him up the steps. “You will be there every step of the way?”

“Every step,” Connor assured.

“Okay.”

“How do you feel?”

“Terrified. Like I want to run away again,” Myriam chuckled breathlessly. Connor hummed and looped his arm with hers.

“I will be there regardless. I am sure Norris will be as well.”

Myriam smiled. “Thank you, Connor.”

“You do not need to thank me. You are my friend.”

She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her frigid lips to Connor’s freckled cheek. “No, but I will. Thank you.”

Blushing, Connor cleared his throat and led Myriam to the entrance of the church, where the guests began to rise as they spotted the bridge.

“Prudence and Ellen are right, though. We must find you a bride,” she whispered, doing her best to ignore the endless amount of eyes upon her and Connor.

Connor chuckled, patting her hand. “I can only hope she is not as fast nor agile as you.”

“Ha, ha. Who knew you had such a sense of humor?”

Years later, when Connor would find himself fidgeting in front of his betrothed’s longhouse, Myriam would loop her arm with his, kiss his flustered cheek, and walk him into the longhouse with the same kindness he had shown her before.

Luckily for Connor, his wife did not run into the trees. How fortunate he was indeed.

#assassin’s creed #ac3 #connor kenway #ratohnhaké:ton #fanfiction #my fanfic #assassin's creed fanfic #davenport homestead #myriam #norris #prudence #ellen #terry #godfrey #pretty much everybody in the damn homestead #that random cut from the chase sequence to the wedding bothers me so fucking much #so I simply decided to fill in the blanks #I hope you guys enjoy!#I love Connor sm he's a good friend

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