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mountainsandmayhem · 3 days

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BDSMaid - Chapter 1

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks. CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present.

This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.

Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.

This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things.

But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple.

“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas.

She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.”

You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things.

“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat.

Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.”

“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!”

“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.”

She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.”

She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”

She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.

She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."

You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.

The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean.

Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.

The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”

You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional.

To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.

As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”

Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.”

She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.

You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.

When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.

“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.”

“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough.

“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.

“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles.

“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.”

You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole.

After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.

As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.

It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror.

But not JM.

No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility.

You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.

Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February.

Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:

Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.

The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.

You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home.

You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.

Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”

The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.

One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’.

He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that.

“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.

The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.

Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.

“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'.

You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome.

“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out.

��I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.

“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?”

You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head.

“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.”

He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.

What the fuck?

It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed?

Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman.

Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone.

She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her.

He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip.

JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass.

He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft.

You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“

JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?”

You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you.

“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him.

He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.”

He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.”

He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning.

A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.

After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.

‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’

At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills.

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ladysharmaa · 2 days

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New life

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Anthony has an argument with his wife, who is from a lower class, when she makes a mistake while promenading with Anthony

(gif is not mine)

Y/n felt like a fish out of water. She didn't grow up in the privileged life that her husband, Anthony, had. Of course her life wasn't bad either, so many others had it worse than her. Y/n was the daughter of well-known merchants, and despite their busy lives where she had to start working as a child to help her family, she was grateful for everything she had.

And then everything changed. Y/n was used to having to speak louder, wipe her hands on her old skirt after touching someone's dirty money, and do manual labor. Until one day, Viscount Bridgerton saw her, and it was love at first sight. A love that was rejected by both for too long.

Anthony was the one who gave in first. He started going to her parents' stall more often, buying things he didn't even need and that others could do for him just so he could look at Y/n. It was indisputable that there was a connection between them. Anthony insisted that they couldn't ignore how they felt about each other, but the girl was afraid. A daughter of merchants marrying into the upper class? It could only go wrong, and to make matters worse it would ruin the reputation of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony made her feel things she never thought she would feel.

Her parents, upon realizing what was happening, warned her of the dangers, but they just wanted to see their daughter happy. In the end, Y/n ended up confessing her love for Bridgerton when he came to her stall saying it would be the last time if she wanted it. Instead of answering him, Y/n took his hand, taking him to an isolated place, where no one could see them, and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Now, six months after they got married and were living a very happy life together, Y/n was still trying to learn the rules of society. It was a work in progress, and Anthony's mother and sisters helped Y/n a lot, explaining everything she could and couldn't do. There was so much information that she often just followed her instinct, ending up breaking some rules. Fortunately, she had just been among family and hadn't had to listen to anyone's judgment.

It wasn't easy being thrown into high society, dressed in the best dresses that she tried her best not to get dirty, speaking softly, and letting the maids do everything for her. But she would do anything for Anthony, and now she had a lifestyle that many would kill for. She couldn't complain.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was a sunny day and so, Y/n and Anthony decided to promenade through the park, taking the opportunity to go on a small boat trip. Everything was going well, the woman had fun touching the crystal clear water and watching the fish that fled quickly while Anthony, who was responsible for the physical work, smiled in amusement.

So, they decided to end their afternoon with one last walk through the park to enjoy the last rays of sun, Y/n's hand on Anthony's arm. Y/n was telling him for the thousandth time how excited she was to go play pall mall the next day with the rest of the Bridgerton family. But Anthony never complained and listened attentively and patiently.

But the couple's peace was ruined when a little in front of them, a woman who Y/n quickly recognized as Earl Harrison's wife, was shouting at a maid. She was already old, and was on her knees on the floor trying to clean the woman's expensive dress. People were sending them looks and Y/n felt fury run through her veins when no one intervened, allowing that maid to be basically humiliated in a public square.

She took a step forward, but was pulled back by Anthony, who was holding her hand while sending her a look. "We have nothing to do with this. It's better not to get involved."

Y/n frowned, shaking her head in denial. "No. I'm sorry, Anthony, but I can't do this. But I promise I'll control myself." She then added in a whisper, "If she doesn't irritate me."

"Y/n…"

But Anthony didn't have time to finish his sentence because his wife was already putting on a fake smile, approaching that scene. "Excuse me, what is happening?"

"Lady Bridgerton, look!" the Countess exclaimed while pointing at her maid as if she were an inferior being, noting that she was waiting for Y/n to take her side. "I came to have a picnic on this beautiful day, but this incompetent woman dropped the cake on my dress. It was my favorite!"

"You sound like a child." Y/n said truthfully, not caring about the gasps heard. Anthony sighed behind her.

"Countess Harrinson, I tripped over a stone. My deep apologies, it won't happen again." the maid, still kneeling on the floor, whimpered. The woman rolled her eyes and gave her a small kick, forcing her to move away.

"It won't happen again because you're not coming back with me. I don't accept mistakes, especially like this." The Countess said coldly, while Viscountess Bridgerton became redder and redder with anger.

"But I—"

"You know, Countess Harrinson, she won't be coming back to you because she's going to work for Viscount Bridgerton. We'd be happy to have you,…"

"Mary." the maid said, putting her hands to her face and crying. "My apologies. Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. That's very kind of you."

"How dare you!" the Countess exploded in anger. "You just disrespected Earl Harrinson's wife." Anthony's wife continued to look at her indifferently. The other mumbled in frustration, "I'm going to destroy your family's reputation."

"I'd like to see you try." she narrowed her eyes, not looking away from her until the Countess was already well away from them, the other maids hurrying after her. However, the crowd that formed stayed in the exact same place.

"Y/n, what do you think you're doing?" Anthony hissed. "We shouldn't have intervened."

"You can't really expect me to leave her here on the floor. Just because she's a maid doesn't deserve to be treated like this." Y/n snapped angrily at her husband, helping the poor woman to get up from the floor.

"I'm not saying she deserves it." he growled, he too beginning to get unnerved. "But you can't talk to an Earl's wife like that. This is a hierarchy, Y/n."

"If I see someone being mistreated, you can be sure that I will speak however I want to whoever I want."

"Watch it." Anthony warned with his jaw clenched. He looked around, noticing that they were attracting even more looks and attention. People were already starting to murmur among themselves, and Anthony was sure it wouldn't take long for rumors to spread. "Stop it and we'll talk at home."

"Don't treat me like I'm the insolent one." Y/n hissed, pulling her arm away when Anthony tried to pull her closer to him.

The maid seemed to be increasingly panicked, now being the cause of an argument between the Bridgerton couple, who were well known in society. On the other hand, the woman was quite touched by Y/n's kind gesture. In the midst of such an aggressive society, there were people with pure hearts who were not afraid to defend what they believed in.

"We'll talk at home then, Lord Bridgerton." Y/n ended up saying after a few long tense moments in which the two exchanged glares. She straightened her dress and started to walk, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at the maid who was hesitant to follow. "Come on, Mary, when we get to the mansion I'll introduce you to the rest of our maids who I'm sure will help you settle in."

The atmosphere was tense throughout the carriage ride. Anthony and Y/n continued to avoid talking, knowing that an argument would immediately begin. Instead, he seemed to be caught up in his thoughts while his wife was busy talking to Mary, who slowly seemed to be starting to relax.

When the carriage finally stopped, although they were angry with each other, the Bridgerton got out first to help Y/n out, as she was quite clumsy and it wouldn't be the first time she almost fell out of the carriage in her long dresses. .

"My office. We need to talk." he said in a low voice into Y/n's ear who nodded.

"Juliet." the Viscountess Bridgerton called one of the maids. "This is Mary. Please show her her duties and introduce her to the rest of the people. Make sure she feels welcome."

"Of course, Lady Bridgerton."

Finally, the couple was alone, but spirits seemed to still be high. Anthony continued to be frustrated with Y/n because she didn't realize that there was a hierarchy in society, and they couldn't do everything they wanted, or it would harm not only them but the entire family. On the other hand, Y/n felt that Anthony was supporting social injustice, and that no human being should be treated badly just because they are from a lower social class.

"If you're waiting for me to apologize, I won't."

"I'm hoping you realize the gravity of what you just did." Anthony snapped, running a hand over his face with a sigh. "No matter how much it costs you, you have to respect this society and its rules!"

"But I don't agree with these rules!"

"I don't care about that!" the man exploded, not seeing how Y/n flinched. They had never argued like this. Obviously, they had already disagreed on some issues, but never to the point of raising their voices. "You were selfish! Everything you do affects you and all of us. You have to stop thinking only about yourself!"

"Selfish?" Y/n muttered, looking at her husband with a frown. Those words seemed to be like a knife in her heart.

"Did it occur to you that Francesca is going to start her season in a few months? Now surely all the suitors will know about this family's reputation. That we don't respect hierarchy. That I married someone who has nothing to do with this lifestyle."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears. Her voice was shaking, but she tried to keep herself in control, "Well, I'm sorry that I let you down. It wasn't my intention, Lord Bridgerton. I'm sorry that you married someone who wasn't supposed to be here, living with all this money and stupid rules of etiquette. But I will always do what I think is right. Because unlike you, I know what it's like to be looked down upon by the upper classes."

Anthony looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing several times. "Wait, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. I don't regret marrying you."

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Really, you should have married someone who was already into this lifestyle, who knew what the hell they were doing. I'm trying, I swear." Some tears fell. "But it's difficult. And dealing with these people, who think they are superior to others, I can't do it."

"Y/n…"

"But you're right. I should have thought about your family. Your siblings could be harmed by what I did, and that was the last thing I wanted. My apologies for that, I will make sure I fix this."

"No, no." the Bridgerton man said, looking desperately at the woman. The woman who gave up her life to marry him, and has tried hard every day to adapt. And here he is, who instead of helping her criticizes her for defending what she believes in. "You're not going to do anything because there's nothing to fix."

"You don't need to say that, I already realized I made a mistake."

"But you didn't, I did. I let myself be influenced by everything that is wrong in this society, and that's why I'm disappointed in myself. But you, my beautiful kind wife, just did what was right, and I'm proud of you. You are not selfish, god you are nothing like that. You do so much for this family, I don't know what came over me to say something as barbaric as that."

"Anthony…" Y/n sighed, not knowing what to say. Her husband, in turn, seemed to have relaxed when Y/n finally called him by his name and not his title.

"I love you. I married you because I love who you are and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want our children to be as kind as you, and we can raise them to be good people, who help others. I'm sorry for the way I treated you."

Y/n remained silent but let a small smile appear on her face. Anthony also realized that they were better off with each other and took a step forward.

"I will kneel and beg for your forgiveness."

"What are you waiting for?" she teased.

Although she wasn't expecting it, Anthony actually lowered himself to his knees at her feet, looking at her in amusement but also with sincerity. "My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I will not repeat my mistakes again. I love you and how fierce you are. Now, will you please forgive me?"

"I don't know, Anthony, maybe I need something more convincing." she said, closing her eyes when she felt her husband lift her dress a little to place small kisses on her legs.

"I'm all yours, Y/N. For the rest of my days."

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #collin bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x reader

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cthulhuwritesstuff · 3 days

Text

Miscommunication between two very broken people with very different coping mechanisms done well, that’s what Full Moon was for me.

They had their first fight. Honestly, good. They needed this moment more than whatever Blitz had in planned and packed in that bag.

They’ve been built up so much, individually and together, over the series, that an easy fix with a “Oh I understand you now” conversation in FM would fall so flat, it would be anticlimactic.

I know we all love the duet at the beginning, but it also clearly communicates how toxic their relationship was becoming. Let them be angry and heartbroken, I cannot stop stressing this enough: they needed this.

I trust in their development so much and I have full faith in what’s to come. Bigger the pain, bigger the reward.

#stolitz #helluva boss #full moon spoilers #helluva boss spoilers #stolas #blitzø

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imthebadguyyy · 1 day

Text

whose afraid of little old me?

pairing : f1 drivers x reader

fandom : f1

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : your journey as a female driver alongside the rest of the grid.

warnings : angst

a/n : first time writing a platonic drivers x reader! let me know what you think! :)

you don't get to tell me about sad..

The press room was buzzing with anticipation as the Formula 1 drivers filed in for the pre-race conference. As the only female driver on the grid, you were well aware of the extra attention you garnered, but you had grown used to it. Today, you were seated between Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc, both of whom you had become close friends with during your time at Mercedes.

The questions started out as they always did: race strategies, car updates, and general banter about the upcoming Grand Prix. You handled them with the confidence and poise that had become your trademark. Then, a reporter from the back of the room stood up, his tone less than friendly

"Y/N," he began, "there's been a lot of talk about the difficulties you've faced as the only female driver on the grid. Some say you're out of your depth and that your results reflect that. How do you respond to the criticism that you don't belong here and that it's just too hard for you?"

You felt a surge of frustration. This wasn’t the first time you’d faced such pointed and unfair questions, but today, it stung more than usual. Before you could respond, you felt Lewis shift beside you, a silent show of support. Taking a deep breath, you looked the reporter in the eye.

"You don’t get to tell me about sad," you said, your voice steady and firm. "You don’t get to tell me about the difficulties I’ve faced or what I can handle. I’ve earned my place here just like every other driver on this grid, through talent, hard work, and perseverance. Criticism and doubt are part of the journey, but I’m here to stay."

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. For a moment, the reporter looked taken aback, but before he could say anything, Charles spoke up.

"Y/N has proven time and again that she belongs here," Charles said, his tone protective. "She’s one of the most dedicated and talented drivers I know, and it’s about time she gets the respect she deserves."

Lewis nodded, leaning forward to address the room. "We’re a team, and we support each other. Y/N has brought incredible strength and determination to Mercedes, and I have no doubt she’ll continue to achieve great things. If anyone here thinks otherwise, they clearly haven’t been paying attention."

The support from your fellow drivers warmed your heart, and you saw nods of agreement from others around the room. Even drivers from rival teams like Max Verstappen and Lando Norris were giving you supportive looks.

The reporter, clearly outnumbered and outmatched, mumbled a quick thank you and sat down. The rest of the press conference went smoothly, with more respectful and genuine questions.

As you left the stage, Lewis put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You handled that perfectly, Y/N. Don't let anyone make you doubt yourself."

Charles grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "We’ve got your back, always."

Walking out of the press room with your head held high, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with the support of your teammates and fellow drivers, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way.

nothing makes me feel more alive...

The roar of the crowd at Silverstone was deafening as you took the final corner, the checkered flag waving wildly in the air. This was it. You were about to win your first Grand Prix, and not just any race—it was Silverstone, the home of British motorsport.

"Y/N, you’ve done it! You’ve won the British Grand Prix!" your race engineer shouted over the radio, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of celebration.

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you crossed the finish line. "Oh my God! We did it! We did it! Thank you, thank you so much!" you screamed, unable to contain your excitement.

As you brought the car to a stop in Parc Fermé, the realization of your achievement hit you full force. You had won. You had really done it. Climbing out of the car, you were immediately surrounded by your jubilant team, all eager to celebrate this historic moment with you. You jumped into their arms, laughter and cheers filling the air.

Lewis, who had finished third, approached with a wide grin. "Incredible job, Y/N! Welcome to the winners' circle," he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Max, who had taken second place, clapped you on the back. "Amazing race! You deserve this," he said with genuine admiration.

The podium ceremony felt surreal. As you stood on the top step, the anthem playing, you looked out over the sea of fans cheering your name. You felt a wave of pride and accomplishment wash over you. When the national anthem ended, you picked up the bottle of champagne, the weight of it solid and reassuring in your hands.

Lewis and Max joined you, and the three of you shared a look before simultaneously popping the corks and spraying each other with champagne. The cold, fizzy liquid drenched you, but you couldn’t stop laughing, your joy infectious.

Grabbing the microphone for the post-race interview, you took a moment to compose yourself before speaking. "This is the best moment of my life. Nothing makes me feel more alive than being out there on the track, pushing myself to the limit, and achieving something I’ve dreamed about since I was a little girl. Thank you to my team, to the fans, and to everyone who believed in me. This is just the beginning."

The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers echoing in your ears as you continued to celebrate with your team and fellow drivers. This victory was not just a personal triumph, but a statement to everyone watching: you belonged here, and you were just getting started.

As you left the podium, still grinning from ear to ear, you were greeted by more hugs and congratulations from your team. Toto Wolff, your team principal, pulled you into a warm embrace. "I knew you had it in you," he said, his voice full of pride. "This is only the beginning."

Walking away from the podium, champagne-soaked and elated, you felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. You had proven to yourself and the world that you could do it. And as you looked out at the sea of faces cheering for you, you knew that nothing could ever take this moment away from you.

so i leap from the gallows and i levitate down your street..

The aftermath of the Spanish Grand Prix was a cacophony of disbelief, exhilaration, and redemption. For weeks, you had been the subject of harsh criticism from pundits and commentators, their scathing remarks suggesting you were a failure, a shame to the sport. They doubted your abilities, questioning your place on the grid. The words stung, but they also fueled a fire within you that blazed brighter than ever.

"So, I leap from the gallows," you whispered to yourself as you took the final corner, the finish line in sight. The car beneath you was an extension of your will, each turn, each acceleration a defiant answer to the doubters. You crossed the line first, your heart pounding as you realized what you had just achieved.

"Y/N, you did it! You won the Spanish Grand Prix!" your race engineer's voice crackled over the radio, bursting with pride and excitement.

"I did it," you repeated, the weight of your victory sinking in. "We did it!"

The cool-down lap was a blur of tears and joy. You had proven them wrong. The people who had criticized you, who had doubted your skill and determination, were silenced by the roar of your engine and the unwavering support of your team.

As you pulled into Parc Fermé, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Stepping out of the car, you were immediately enveloped in the arms of your team, their cheers and tears mingling with your own. You felt a sense of triumph that was almost surreal, a weight lifting off your shoulders.

Carlos Sainz, who had finished second, approached with a proud smile. "Incredible drive, Y/N. You showed them all," he said, pulling you into a congratulatory hug.

Oscar Piastri, who had finished third, hugged you tight"That was one hell of a race. Well done," he said, his voice affectionate.

The podium ceremony was a whirlwind of emotions. Standing on the top step, the anthem playing in the background, you felt a sense of vindication. The crowd’s cheers were a testament to your hard work and resilience.

When the time came to spray the champagne, you did so with a vengeance, soaking Carlos and Oscar as they laughed and joined in the celebration. The cold spray was a refreshing reminder of the moment you had seized, the victory you had earned.

During the post-race interview, you held the microphone firmly, looking out at the sea of fans and reporters. "For those who doubted me," you began, your voice steady and strong, "this is my answer. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I've faced the criticisms, the doubts, and I’ve come out on top. This win is for my team, for my supporters, and for everyone who believes that dreams are worth fighting for."

The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers a resounding affirmation of your triumph. As you left the stage, still soaked in champagne and adrenaline, you felt lighter than air. You had not only proven your critics wrong, but you had also proven something to yourself: that you were capable of greatness.

Back in the garage, Toto greeted you with a proud smile. "You were phenomenal out there. This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

Walking through the paddock, the looks of respect and admiration from fellow drivers and team members were a stark contrast to the doubts and criticisms you had faced. You had leapt from the metaphorical gallows and soared, showing everyone that you were here to stay.

As you drove out of the circuit later that evening, the streets of Barcelona seemed to glow with a new light. The city's energy matched your own, vibrant and unstoppable. You had faced the gallows and emerged victorious, levitating down the streets of triumph and possibility. And you knew, deep in your heart, that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey

whose afraid of little old me? you should be...

The glitz and glamour of the post-race party in Monaco was in full swing, with drivers, team principals, and VIP guests mingling in celebration of another thrilling Grand Prix. You were enjoying the night, surrounded by the camaraderie of your fellow drivers and the electric atmosphere of the event.

As you made your way through the crowd, chatting with Carlos and Lando, a random guy who clearly wasn’t part of the usual racing crowd approached. He had a smug look on his face, his steps unsteady from one too many drinks.

"Hey, isn’t this the famous female driver?" he said loudly, drawing the attention of those around him. "Nice of you to join us, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be somewhere polishing your car or something? Or maybe you’re just here because you look good in a dress."

His words were met with a few awkward chuckles from those who didn’t know how to react. You felt a surge of anger but kept your composure. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes locking onto his.

"You know," you began, your voice calm but laced with steel, "it’s funny you mention polishing cars. Considering you probably have never even seen the inside of one that’s been on a racetrack, I’d say your expertise on the subject is pretty limited. As for my looks, let’s just say I'd rather be known for my talent than for crashing parties and making snarky remarks to people I don’t know."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. The guy’s smirk faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and irritation. Before he could respond, you continued.

"I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Every race, every victory, is a testament to my skill and dedication. You can try to demean me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’ve earned my place here. And by the way, the only reason you’re even noticed right now is because you’re making a scene. Maybe next time, you should think before you speak."

A ripple of laughter and applause broke out among the onlookers. The guy’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he had no retort. He muttered something under his breath and turned away.

Lando, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, stepped forward. "You should be afraid of her," he said to the group, his tone light but sincere. "She’s not just fast on the track, she’s got the sharpest tongue in the paddock."

You smiled at Lando, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Lando. Sometimes people need a reminder."

Carlos nodded, clapping you on the back. "You handled that perfectly. That guy didn’t know what hit him."

With a sweet, innocent expression, you tilted your head slightly and asked, "Who's afraid of little old me?"

Carlos turned to the retreating guy, his tone serious and unwavering. "You should be."

The random guy's pace quickened as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you, Carlos, and Lando laughing and feeling victorious. The atmosphere lightened, and you found yourself surrounded by friends and allies who respected and supported you. The sting of the random guy’s words faded quickly, replaced by the warmth of genuine camaraderie. You knew that the road ahead would have its challenges, but moments like this reminded you that you were more than capable of facing them head-on.

Later, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the glittering Monaco skyline, Lando joined you, offering a glass of champagne. "To standing up for yourself," he toasted.

You clinked glasses, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "To proving them wrong," you replied, taking a sip and savoring the sweet taste of victory and vindication.

is it a wonder i broke, let's hear one more joke...

The opulent ballroom of the Monaco casino was alight with the energy of a sponsorship party, a glittering event where drivers mingled with sponsors, team principals, and celebrities. You were making your way through the crowd, putting on a brave face despite the whispers and stares. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but for you, it was quickly turning into a test of endurance.

One of the sponsors, a man named Richard, seemed to have taken a special interest in making snide remarks at your expense. His laughter echoed through the room as he made yet another joke about you. "Oh, look, it’s the token female driver! How many races did you have to finish to get this seat? Or is it more about how you look in the team’s gear?" he jeered, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

The people around him chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling. You excused yourself, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, and quickly made your way to the nearest bathroom.

Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let the tears fall. The pressure, the constant scrutiny, the never-ending need to prove yourself—it all came crashing down. You sank to the floor, sobbing quietly, feeling utterly alone in that moment.

Unbeknownst to you, Lewis Hamilton had been watching from a distance. He had seen the way Richard had been treating you all night and noticed the moment you fled. Concerned, he made his way to the bathroom, hesitating only for a moment before gently knocking on the door.

"Y/N? It’s Lewis. Are you okay?" he called softly.

Hearing his voice, you tried to pull yourself together, wiping at your tears. "I’m fine, Lewis. Just… give me a moment."

But Lewis wasn’t about to leave you alone. He opened the door slowly, stepping inside and closing it behind him. When he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaming down your face, his heart broke. He crouched down beside you, his expression one of deep empathy.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice soft and soothing. "I’m here. Talk to me."

You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears. "It’s just… it’s too much sometimes, you know? The jokes, the comments… I’m trying so hard, but it feels like it’s never enough."

Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. "You are more than enough, Y/N. You are an incredible driver and an even more incredible person. Don’t let anyone, especially not some ignorant sponsor, make you feel otherwise."

His words brought fresh tears to your eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice trembling.

He sat down beside you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I know it’s hard. I’ve been there, too. But you have to remember why you’re here. You’ve earned your place on the grid. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. And you’ve got so many people who believe in you, including me."

You buried your face in his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence. "I just don’t know how much more of this I can take," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "You are stronger than you think. And you don’t have to face this alone. We’re a team, remember? We’ve got your back."

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the pain and fear. You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded. "Thanks, Lewis. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

He smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go back out there and show them what you’re made of?"

With his support, you felt a renewed sense of determination. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. As you both left the bathroom, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you weren’t facing them alone. You had friends, allies, and a team who believed in you, and that made all the difference.

i was tame, i was gentle, till the circus life made me mean..

The press conference room was packed, the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. You sat between two fellow drivers, trying to maintain your composure as the questions came one after another. Lately, the questions directed at you had become more personal and offensive, straying far from your performance on the track.

As the reporters took turns, a journalist from the back raised his hand and was given the microphone. He stood up, a smug look on his face. "Y/N, there's been a lot of curiosity among fans about what kind of underwear you wear under your race suit. Care to enlighten us?"

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt a mix of anger and disbelief. This was the final straw.

You leaned forward, your eyes blazing. "Are you serious? I'm here to talk about my performance on the track, not my underwear. The fact that you think it's appropriate to ask me such a disrespectful and invasive question speaks volumes about your professionalism—or lack thereof."

The reporter's face turned red as he tried to stammer a response, but you cut him off, your voice steady and strong. "I have worked incredibly hard to earn my place here, just like every other driver on this grid. I will not tolerate being reduced to such trivial and sexist remarks. If you can't treat me with the same respect you show my male colleagues, then you have no place in this room."

You stood up abruptly, the microphone falling silent as you walked out of the press conference, your head held high. The room was stunned into silence, the other reporters unsure how to react.

Lewis, who was sitting beside you, took the microphone next. "That was completely unacceptable," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N is a talented driver who deserves respect. It's disgraceful that she has to deal with questions like that."

Carlos, seated on your other side, nodded in agreement. "We are here to discuss our careers and our performance, not to entertain inappropriate and sexist questions. Y/N handled that with grace, and she has our full support."

The room remained silent, the gravity of the situation sinking The other drivers on the stage exchanged looks of solidarity, making it clear that they stood with you.

Backstage, you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. The door opened, and Lewis and Carlos walked in, their expressions filled with concern and support.

"Hey," Lewis said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing. That was completely out of line."

Carlos nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. "You handled it perfectly. We're all behind you."

You smiled weakly, grateful for their support. "Thanks, guys. I just couldn't take it anymore."

Lewis shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "No one should have to deal with that. We're going to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Feeling a surge of gratitude and strength from their words, you nodded. "Together, we can make a difference."

As you returned to the paddock, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. You knew that you had allies who respected and supported you, and you were determined to continue proving yourself on and off the track. The road ahead would still have its challenges, but you were ready to face them head-on, with your head held high and your team by your side.

then say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?...

The news hit you like a freight train. Mercedes had decided to drop you from the team for the next season. The decision came shortly after Lewis announced his departure to Ferrari, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. You had poured your heart and soul into your racing career, and now it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you.

The paddock was a whirlwind of activity as the season drew to a close, but you felt like a ghost moving through it. Every smile, every cheer, felt like a reminder of what you were losing. You tried to put on a brave face, but inside, you were struggling.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself wandering aimlessly through the paddock. Your thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. You ended up in a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes and constant noise, trying to hold yourself together.

Charles noticed you standing there, your shoulders slumped and your expression distant. He approached you cautiously, his concern evident. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "They dropped me, Charles. Mercedes just dropped me. And with Lewis leaving too... I feel so alone."

Charles stepped closer, his expression sympathetic. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I know this must be incredibly hard for you."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Why did they do this, Charles? After everything, why now?"

Charles gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "They didn't do it to hurt you. Sometimes teams make decisions that are hard to understand, but it's not always about us personally."

His words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain sharper. "But what if they did?" you whispered, your voice breaking. "What if they did it to hurt me?"

The dam broke, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. Charles pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. His embrace was warm and comforting, offering a safe space to release the torrent of emotions you had been keeping inside.

"It's okay, let it out," Charles murmured softly, his voice soothing. "You're not alone, Y/N. We're all here for you."

You clung to him, the weight of your grief and fear pouring out. "I gave everything to this team," you sobbed. "I don't know what to do now."

Charles held you tighter, his heart aching for you. "I know it's hard, but this isn't the end. You're an incredible driver, and there are other teams out there that would be lucky to have you. Don't let this define you."

His words, filled with sincerity and belief, began to cut through the fog of despair. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "Thank you, Charles. I just... I just needed to hear that."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a gentle smile. "You're stronger than you know, Y/N. And whatever happens next, you're going to come out of this even stronger."

As the night grew darker, you found a glimmer of hope in Charles's words and his unwavering support. You knew the road ahead would be challenging, but you also knew you weren't alone. With friends like Charles by your side, and the rest of the grid, you could face whatever came next. And as you stood there, taking comfort in his presence, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could rise from this setback and prove everyone wrong.

I want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me...

The atmosphere in the Mercedes factory was tense as Toto Wolff stepped up to the podium, his expression somber. You stood among your colleagues, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the announcement. Deep down, you knew what was coming, but hearing it confirmed in front of the entire team was another blow altogether.

"Toto, are we ready to go live?" a technician whispered, adjusting the cameras to capture the moment.

Toto nodded, his gaze scanning the room. "Yes, let's begin."

The room fell silent as the live broadcast began. Toto cleared his throat, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "Good afternoon, everyone. I come to you today with news that is difficult for all of us to hear."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you braced yourself for what was to come. Toto continued, his words echoing through the factory.

"After much consideration and evaluation, we have made the decision to part ways with one of our drivers," he announced, his tone measured. "It is never an easy decision to make, and it is one that we do not take lightly."

The room seemed to hold its breath as Toto paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glanced around, noting the somber expressions on the faces of your colleagues. They were your teammates, your friends, and the thought of leaving them behind felt like a knife to the heart.

"And so, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that Y/N will be leaving the team at the end of the season," Toto said, his voice faltering slightly. "We want to thank her for her dedication, her hard work, and her contributions to the team. She will always be a part of the Mercedes family, and we wish her all the best in her future endeavors."

The room erupted into a mix of stunned silence and whispered conversations. You stood there, trying to process the news, trying to swallow down the bitter taste of disappointment and betrayal. It was all you could do to keep from exploding in anger, from snarling and lashing out at the injustice of it all.

As Toto stepped down from the podium, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you met the sympathetic gaze of your teammate, Lewis. His eyes were filled with understanding and compassion, a silent acknowledgment of the pain you were feeling.

But as much as you wanted to scream, to demand answers, you knew that now was not the time. You had to swallow down your anger, to keep your composure in front of your colleagues. You had to be the bigger person, to leave with dignity and grace.

So you stood there, your jaw clenched, your fists tight at your sides, as the reality of the situation sank in. You would leave Mercedes behind, but you would carry the memories, the victories, and the lessons with you. And as you walked out of the factory for the last time, you vowed to channel your anger and disappointment into fuel for the next chapter of your racing career.

you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me..

The news spread like wildfire through the paddock: you had been signed by Red Bull Racing for the upcoming season. As you made your way through the bustling crowd, you could feel the weight of judgmental eyes boring into you. People whispered behind your back, calling you a traitor, questioning your loyalty to your former team.

But you held your head high, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. You had made your decision, and you weren't about to let the opinions of others sway you. After all, this was Formula 1—a cutthroat world where alliances shifted like the wind, and loyalty was a luxury few could afford.

As you approached the garage, you heard the murmurs grow louder. "Can you believe she signed with Red Bull? What a traitor."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face the source of the comments. It was one of your former colleagues, his expression filled with disdain. "You're a traitor, Y/N. How could you do this to us?"

You met his gaze head-on, your eyes flashing with defiance. "It's a cutthroat game," you replied coolly. "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me."

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world you had grown up in. You had fought tooth and nail to get to where you were, and you weren't about to apologize for seizing an opportunity to further your career.

Turning on your heel, you continued toward the Red Bull garage, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You may have ruffled some feathers, but you had made the right choice for yourself. And as you entered the garage, surrounded by your new teammates and friends who had stood by your side through it all, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

that I'm fearsome, and I'm wretched, and I'm wrong..

You sat in your motorhome, scrolling through Instagram after the chaotic Monza Grand Prix. The race had been eventful, to say the least, with a tense moment between you and Hulkenberg that had sparked controversy among fans and pundits alike.

As you scrolled through your feed, you couldn't escape the barrage of comments and messages directed at you. People were blaming you for the incident, calling you fearsome, wretched, and wrong. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders, suffocating you with guilt and frustration.

But you refused to let the negativity consume you. Taking a deep breath, you opened the camera app on your phone and snapped a quick selfie. In the photo, you wore a determined expression, your eyes flashing with defiance.

You typed out a caption to accompany the photo, your fingers moving with purpose. "I'm fearsome, wretched, and I'm wrong," you wrote, the words a defiant declaration of self-acceptance and resilience.

With a sense of satisfaction, you hit the share button, knowing that your message would reach far and wide. It was a reminder to yourself—and to the world—that you were not defined by one moment, one mistake. You were a force to be reckoned with, flaws and all, and you weren't afraid to own it.

a/n : first ever platonic driver story! should I look into a romantic angle with anyone? any suggestions etc would be highly appreciated! happy reading and much love! as always, likes, reblogs, comments etc are always appreciated ❤️

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zombie-bait · 2 days

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Full Moon

Ok so I don’t normally post about Helluva Boss but the newest episode touched on an interesting concept I haven’t necessarily seen represented in media. Back when I was on Twitter (derogatory) a few years ago there was this now deleted viral thread where someone discussed how their struggles with mental health affected their relationship with their partner and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

This is such a good, short example of how anxiety and depression can play tricks on you. It becomes so easy to envision yourself as a nuisance, a constant burden to those closest to you because they cannot possibly genuinely enjoy your company, right? But in doing so you create this arbitrarily cruel version of the people you love, people who would otherwise never behave like this outside of your own mind.

It's mean. Because your mind wants to be mean to you under these circumstances. It wants to put everyone else's emotions and desires above yours, both in worthiness and validity. And that starts bleeding into your understanding of other people, especially those you care about.

Now. Helluva Boss.

"Can I get a fucking MINUTE to think after everything you put me through you pompous rich ASSHOLE? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can’t just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well I’m not letting you, BITCH! Let’s go!" - Blitz

I find it really interesting how Helluva Boss decided to approach this conflict between Stolas and Blitz. Obviously, the difference in power matters. It's the underlying tension of their entire relationship and their lives. Stolas is burdened by the mountain of expectations thrust upon him from a very young age while Blitz is constantly reminded that he can NEVER be part of that world, that he is "smaller and not as important" not just in Hell's hierarchy but in his own life and family. Stolas very literally has power over Blitz (through the grimoire, the arrangement, his position in society) and Blitz uses their relationship as an excuse to reverse those roles. But that power dynamic, in one form or another, never truly goes away. And for Blitz, it's a lot easier to paint Stolas as this manipulative symbol of power and himself as nothing more than Stolas' plaything. It's easier to be angry than to be vulnerable and accept that someone might care about him.

"Dismiss" is the keyword in that quote. All that Blitz has been able to process is that Stolas has decided to end the relationship that they have. He feels ls like a choice has been taken away from him so he lashes out because he's not ready to emotionally tackle what the rest of Stolas' offer might entail. If Stolas hates him, just wants to play with him, then he is justified in his anger, his self-destruction, his isolation. If the world is mean, you're "allowed" to be mean back.

But

In that moment he forgets that Stolas is someone he actually cares about. Someone he's known for way too long and clearly wants to keep in his life, no matter how reluctant he can be to admit it. Someone who is not innately cruel or manipulative but sad and desperate for connections in a lot of the same ways that Blitz is. And Blitz immediately sees that he's miscalculated something.

Somewhere along the way the fictional version of Stolas that he's allowed himself to be mad at and the real one that he's not ready to admit he cares about have merged into something real that he has actual power over. Stolas can get hurt and Blitz can be the one who does it. He has once again allowed his greatest fears (which Stolas so frequently symbolizes) to co-opt his loved ones, to give him an "out" even though he didn't actually want one in the first place.

I'm definitely not the first person to say this but I think this is an example of the miscommunication trope done right. Their individual struggles are what cause them to be unable to connect during this conversation or to even have a proper conversation in the first place. There is no convenient misunderstanding or third party fabricating this rift. Both of them have preconceived ideas of what the other one is thinking but those ideas are flawed and rooted in self-hatred. They also both shutdown in their unique ways when the conversation starts heading in the direction they'd feared it would.

Blitz and Stolas work because they're both fucked up in similar ways, because they want similar things. That's the same reason why they're uniquely designed to hurt one another. A fear of rejection and a yearning for happiness. To borrow a quote that has been used by literally everyone from Spiderman to Evangelical preachers, "hurt people hurt people."

anyway, I really liked this episode.

(twitter thread screenshots sourced from this reddit post)

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cobaltperun · 3 days

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I haveth a request ☝️

could you write Cairo x g!p fem reader smut.

Maybe a childhood best friends type situation like Genius, but they stayed friends all throughout middle school and high school and they catch feelings for each other somewhere in between middle school and beginning of high school. They constantly sneak longing stares at each other and unknowingly make each other jealous until the tension is unbearable and one day when Cairo, Winnie, and reader are hanging out they started telling hookup stories but Cairo is still a virgin so she just sits there quietly listening and after Winnie goes home things happen.

No Chance

Cairo Sweet x Female (GP!) Reader (Request) (Smut, minors do not interact)

Masterlist

A/N: Feast! On the worst thing I have written thus far! I'm sorry Anon, this just didn't work for me. I wrote it, I kinda made what you asked for, but it didn't quite inspire me and I don't feel like leaving it for later would have made it flow any better.

Word count: 3.1k

You can’t love her like that. She’s your best friend.

Those were the words you kept saying to yourself for over four years now. Yet that love kept getting stronger as time passed. And every single time you thought that maybe, just maybe you could get over her you would just see her with someone, and it wouldn’t even have to be more than just sharing a laugh with some random guy, and you’d get reminded of how strong your feelings for her were.

Those feelings didn’t matter though. She was your best friend, and she didn’t love you back.

~X~

For how long was she going to torture herself like this? She loved you, she longed for you, yet her feelings always felt unrequited. True, Cairo has never been the most direct with her feelings toward you, fearing she would ruin the friendship that lasted since she was four years old. But there was no way you missed all of her longing glances. All the times she watched you so love-struck Winnie would tease her about it when it was just the two of them.

You were her protective best friend and you acted as one, though Winnie often referred to it as jealousy. Winnie didn’t know anything. You were like that even when the two of you were kids, protective and kind. It didn’t mean anything more, as she used to hope.

Not since you…

She couldn’t get angry, you just chose some other girl and that was it, and ever since then she lost hope of ever being with you. If it really didn’t mean anything to you to lose your virginity like that, why didn’t you just come to Cairo?

If it meant nothing to you, maybe in the end it would mean nothing to Cairo as well. As it was, she wasn’t even an option for you.

~X~

You and Winnie came over to hang out at Cairo’s place, since it was the most convenient location. Perks of her parents never being around, you guessed. Though you knew Cairo would gladly trade that perk for loving parents.

It started out as a regular night, you and Cairo leaning against the headboard of her bed, while Winnie sat at the foot of it. Being this close to Cairo wasn’t anything new, but you couldn’t help but feel the tension, something unspoken between the two of you ever since you told her about the girl you slept with. Either way, the three of you were playing cards until Winnie decided to speak up.

“Oh, yeah, did you ever go out with that girl you fucked?” she asked while you were in the middle of drinking the juice.

And, naturally, you nearly choked on it, because who the fuck opens the conversation with that?!

“Easy, lover girl,” Cairo was patting your back a bit too harshly, but it was getting the job done, and nearly choking made you miss the passive aggression dripping from her tone.

“Thanks,” you wheezed, finally sure that you would survive. “I’m okay now,” you glared at Winnie who just shrugged, though she did have an apologetic smile on her face.

“So, the what’s-her-name girl,” she reminded you as Cairo leaned back on her bed, though she made some extra distance between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. “It was a one-night stand, we had a fun time and I left her house after we were done, I didn’t even sleep over,” you shrugged, giving up the minimal information because you knew Winnie wouldn’t let it go now that she remembered it.

Winnie stared at you blankly. “That’s a boring story for your first time,” she complained.

“Better boring than bad,” you figured reminding Winnie of her own first experience, which, well, didn’t end that spectacularly.

“Still,” Winnie let the gravity do its’ job as she leaned to the side and fell onto the bed. “I thought you’d wait for someone you love,” she pointed out.

You looked away, not wanting to look at Cairo at the moment.

“Y/N?” Cairo noticed your silence, forcing you to turn back and grin.

“There’s no point. I don’t have a chance with her, so, you know, no point in waiting,” you’ve given up on Cairo ever returning your feelings, so it really didn’t matter who you lost your virginity to. Not the most mature approach, but you were only eighteen, it was difficult to expect a mature approach from someone your age.

You could see Winnie about to tease you, but you glanced at her, shaking your head lightly and it luckily sent the message across, stopping her from saying anything else.

Eventually, it was just you and Cairo, as Winnie had to go finish some art project and for once Cairo figured she wanted to watch a movie.

“So, it’s nothing to you, having sex?” she asked you out of blue as the slow opening scene began playing on the TV, and you looked at her, frankly, confused by the tone of her voice. She sounded jealous and if she truly was jealous, you wished she showed you that earlier.

“I guess,” you fell back so you were lying next to her instead of sitting, though you could still see her face, and just looked at the ceiling. It’s not that it was nothing to you, you just, as you said to her and Winnie before, didn’t think you had a chance with ‘the one you loved’ that one being Cairo. So, you went and lost your virginity, it was mutual understanding that it was a one-night stand, and that was it.

“So, you wouldn’t mind taking someone’s virginity?” she asked, leaning back but not quite lying down and trailed her fingers across your arm.

Blood rushed to your face at the look in her eyes. You had to be misunderstanding this somehow, right? Surely, she didn’t mean her virginity?! “Yours?” you squeaked, which only made you feel even more embarrassed.

Cairo nodded, blushing furiously. “I don’t really want to lose it to just anyone, and you’re,” she paused, looking down as her hand slipped from your arm and onto the bed. “My best friend,” she refused to look at you.

You swallowed hard, fuck, she was serious. You touched her chin and gently tilted it up. “Are you sure?” you asked her and she just nodded, her eyes finally meeting your own.

“Let me take you out on a date first, give you the whole experience,” you suggested. “Tomorrow after school, we grab a nice dinner, and then if you’re still sure this is what you want, we’ll do it,” you still expected her to tell you it was a prank, but she just nodded, and though it was awkward and both of you stole occasional glances at each other you managed to get through the movie.

~X~

You took Cairo out, as you promised. After school you showed up at her house with a bouquet of red roses, properly dressed up for the date and forcing yourself not to look at her too much, as she was dressed in a beautiful, kinda short, black dress with open back.

“You look amazing,” you said smiling slightly as you handed her the flowers.

“Thanks,” she brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and the two of you went out. You took her to the local restaurant, then to a bookstore, then for a brief walk before you finally went back to her place, and you could feel both of you being on the edge at the moment.

“If you change your mind we can stop at any time, it doesn’t matter if it’s now or if I’m hard, or if I’m even inside you. You say stop, we stop,” you assured her as she led you by your hand to her bedroom.

Cairo nodded and kissed your cheek. “You as well, I don’t want to pressure you into anything,” she told you as she sat down on her bed.

“Thanks,” you sat down to her right and leaned over, kissing her neck and her breath hitched. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” she closed her eyes and leaned back, exposing her neck to you. She moved her hands up and the tips of her fingers lightly massaged your cheek and jaw while her left hand slipped to the back of your head, her fingers running through your hair and massaging your scalp. “Oh,” she hummed when you found a more sensitive spot and sucked on it, surely leaving a hickey right there.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” you whispered, your lips gliding over her skin until you reached her ear and gently nibbled on her earlobe. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Cairo squeezing her thighs, you saw her breasts rising and falling as her breathing became deeper.

You were going slow, making sure she felt every sensation as you slid your hand down her side, to her thigh, and you squeezed lightly before pushing her thighs apart and slipping a hand under her dress. You felt her tensing and relaxing as you caressed her bare stomach and sides, just playfully teasing her by occasionally pulling at the strap of her bra.

“Y/N,” she sighed, and you drank it all in, every small sigh, every tiny whimper or moan, every sound you made her make. You took it all in, not for a moment pausing when it came to kissing her neck.

“How are you feeling?” you asked her.

Did you really have to ask her? The only thing that would have made this even better would be if you kissed her on the lips, but it felt like you weren’t going to do that. Even without that she felt so damn good, your warm soft lips on her neck, your wet tongue, dragging over her sensitive neck, your hand under her dress, teasing her everywhere you could reach. She felt aroused, she felt the wetness soaking her panties and that was the only uncomfortable feeling she had. She needed to get them off, to feel your fingers down there instead. “It feels good, I need more though,” she gasped as you bit her neck. How long have you been paying attention to her neck? It was sensitive to begin with, but now it felt like every little touch was going straight to her puss. “Please, Y/N,” she moaned and leaned back, falling onto the bed and pulling you along with her.

“Are you getting wet, hm, Baby?” you rasped, and she gasped, her fingers digging into the back of your head as her left hand slipped down your throat, her nails undoubtedly leaving red stripes down your skin

“Yes! Please touch me,” she whimpered arching her back when you cupped her breast through her bra. You were building up her anticipation and she wondered why she ever waited to do this. Why did she never asked you to take her virginity before. “Can I kiss you?” she pleaded as she made you look her in the eyes.

“Cairo, that’s…” you paused, losing your momentum. As crazy as it might sound, you felt like kissing her would make this too real, that it would be one detail that makes all your feelings come out. That feeling her lips against yours would, more than anything, make you give into your feelings and ruin the friendship that was already hanging by the thread.

“Please,” she was breathing heavily, turned on, yet you saw something else in her eyes, something that couldn’t be true.

“I,” you tried to resist her, to not cross that line, but how many times did you imagine kissing her? You feared you’d regret either choice. In the end you nodded, and her lips pressed softly against yours, her hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as she pressed against you. And instead of fondling her breast you lowered your hand to her waist and hugged her.

Cairo moaned into the kiss, feeling like someone was setting off fireworks in her head. You let her kiss you, and she would be damned if she didn’t kiss you as many times as she would be allowed to tonight. If this was the one and only time the two of you would be intimate like this, she wanted all of it.

You separated from air, and you leaned your forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” your apology made her heart sink. “I love you. You’re the one I have no chance wi-“ she cut you off with another kiss, her tongue danced with your own and she made you switch positions to get on top of you. “Fuck, Cairo,” you hissed as she threw her dress off and lifted your shirt up.

“You,” she was feral, kissing your neck, grinding against you, her hands roaming your body as if she had to map out every bit of your skin in her mind. “Dumbass!”

You just blinked, eyes wide and mouth open as you watched her, unable to come up with a response.

“Don’t have a chance with me?! I’ve loved you for years you idiot!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she pulled back and just looked at you. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing you deeply and it all made sense now, her reactions, her glances, and you cursed yourself for being too blind to see that all along your feelings were reciprocated. “I love you,” she said again when she paused kissing you. “Now, let’s finish what we started,” she whispered, her lips ghosting over yours and you lost it a bit when she took her underwear off and helped you strip as well. You were already hard, but you wanted to prepare her more, to make her cum, or at least bring her close first.

“Yes, Ma’am,” you teased and slipped a finger between her folds, she was wet enough for your finger to just slip in.

“Fuck,” she whispered at the feeling of your finger pushing into her and she wondered how your cock would feel as she experimentally rocked her hips back and forth, causing her clit to rub against your palm.

“That’s it, Baby, ride it,” you gently pushed another finger inside her after you were sure she was wet and stretched enough, and it took a bit to adjust, but the pleasure more than made up for it. Cairo leaned down, pulling your head to her breasts and moaning. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, she gripped your shoulder, and the back of your head as you kissed her breasts and occasionally sucked her nipples. She felt good before, but now that she knew you loved her, now that you were no longer having sex as best friends, but as two people that loved one another, every touch felt more intense.

You held her hip with your free hand, your fingers occasionally slipping down to her ass as you guided her movement. “Wait,” she cried out. She was close, she was so close, but she wanted to have an orgasm with your cock inside her, and just like you promised you would you stopped completely, pulling your fingers out of her and completely halting everything you were doing. “I want your cock inside me,” she assured you before you could start worrying.

You nodded, flipping the two of you around once more. “It’ll be easier like this,” you told her as you brushed some of her bangs from her eyes and kissed her softly. You pulled a condom out of the pocket of your pants and opened it. “Just give me a moment,” you whispered in her ear, putting the condom on and just to make it as easy as it possibly could be, lubed it up.

Cairo moaned as you slowly pushed the head of your cock inside her while rubbing her clit. “I’ve got you, just relax,” you hugged her with your other arm and peppered her neck and shoulders with butterfly kisses as you pushed further inside.

“I know,” she hugged you back, pulled you closer to her and took several deep breaths as you pushed the last inch into her. “You got me,” she whispered, throwing her head back and taking a moment to adjust.

“Does it hurt?” you asked as you left kisses from her shoulder all the way to her lips.

“No, I just feel so full, just give me a moment,” she pulled you in for a kiss, her tongue slipping inside your mouth as she slowly pulled her hips back a bit and then pushed back against you. “Feels so good,” she moaned, encouraging you to slowly start moving as well.

She was tight, and her pussy was clenching around you so hard you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long, and you didn’t want to resort to thinking about anything else to stop yourself from cumming. Not when you were finally with Cairo. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” you told her as much.

“Me neither!” she cried out, her face twisting into an expression of pleasure as you gradually picked up the pace. “Just a bit more, Baby,” she encouraged you and you rubbed her clit harder, intent on making her cum first. Your efforts paid off as her back arched and she gasped, cumming with a near silent cry and pushing you over the edge as well.

You pulled out, shaky and out of breath, but satisfied as you kissed Cairo once more. “You have no idea how much I am going to kiss you from now on,” you chuckled, unable to get enough of her lips.

“Mhm, you better do some other things as well,” she pecked you on the lips, a bit too tired to do anything else.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and feeling your body relaxing as you helped Cairo calm down as well. “I’m going to go and get a bath ready for you,” you whispered, but just as you were about to pull away she reached up and grabbed your hand.

“For us,” she said with a smile on her face and you nodded.

“Right, for us,” you leaned down, kissing her softly once more before you headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and get a bath ready for you and Cairo.

#cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #bottom cairo sweet #top reader #gp! reader #x reader #x female reader

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dailyloopdeloop · 10 hours

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DAY 75: onehat

#codacheetah #isat #loop isat #siffrin isat #isat act 6 spoilers #twohat spoilers #isat spoilers #yea im tagging the onehat post twohat spoilers. watch me #..do we know what time of day it is when siffrin goes to the favor tree?#i always imagined the evening for some reason.#um so anyways. hey do you guys ever think about onehat. do you think about it #do you ever think about how siffrin never learning about loop and never getting closure with them #is just as valid of an ending as twohats. you dont have to get twohats. loop getting some catharsis isnt necessary to siffrin's narrative.#they asked to be here. they were here to help siffrin. and they did. and it ended #that's it.#i've always wondered if loop saw siffrin perform the ritual for them #i wonder if it would comfort them or not. if you ask them if they're a ghost they say yes (and no) after all #the tree is their grave.#something something from main character to stage director to sponsor to corpse #and with how arcane the prereqs for twohats are. yes you can get them naturally on a first playthrough but it's definitely not the majority #experience especially playing blind.#to give loop an ending you have to reach back in with both hands and grasp at that connection #i dont rlly know how to articulate it but it makes me feel a kind of way tbh. you only learn the prereqs (w/o guidance) by talking to loop #very frequently and paying attention to the hints they drop to you about the coin. labor of love situation #self love. siffrin reaching back for loop. We Are Getting Out Together Bitch #Is this anything i dont know that it is #idk onehat fascinates me a lot and im not even gonna touch on the onehats playthroughs where u actually do get the prereqs #i think there is a slight tendency among some fans tocharacterize loop as. more vindictive than they are? i guess?#it's easy to stare down loop's big twohats breakdown and see them bare their fangs and look into their anger #but loop's willingness to fade into nothing and leave siffrin alone shouldnt be forgotten i dont think

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sukirichi · 3 days

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 008 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. unedited.

notes. thank you to everyone who waited patiently, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 this will be the beginning of kiyoomi arc!

wc. 11k

series masterlist | next

[ EIGHT ] all they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride – the only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife

The Kingdom of Inarizaki was at a loss whether to celebrate the early return of the latest married couple from their honeymoon. The couple seemed to be doing great – according to the tabloids, anyway. When they arrived, the Princes and their wives waved to the people, all eager for a glimpse of the infamous couple who had married for love. For two years, society had their eyes on you – the shy, reserved noblewoman who caught the eye and heart of their one and only Crown Prince Suna Rintaro. And oh, what a wedding it was, broadcasted all over the world and celebrated like a holiday.

What the world didn’t know was that it was an entirely different story behind the Palace walls.

You may share a bedroom, but never the bed. You’d been acquainted with the couch for the next few nights, only seeing your husband once in the mornings before he left to do his duties, and every now and then when the Queen wanted to have dinner. Not that you were complaining – the space was most appreciated. Without Suna lingering, there’d be less reminders of how much of a fool he took you. A naïve, young woman who really deluded herself into believing a Prince could want her. Although…

Suna didn’t not want you, either.

In the few spaces in between, he would look for you. He would make small talk and ask if you’ve eaten. If you liked breakfast, which was a silly question, since it was always tea and waffles. If you enjoyed yourself while he was away, this, again, was a silly question. You spent the mind–numbing hours blaming yourself for being in this predicament. That, perhaps, if you had just been brave to walk away that night you found out the truth, then you wouldn’t be out here wondering if the maids’ whispers were true – that Suna spent most of his nights at Belleview Manor, because quote unquote, “he was unwelcome in his own quarters.”

As if somehow it was your fault he did not feel comfortable to sleep under the same roof with you.

Sighing, you flipped your novel closed. No one had given you official duties yet, other than the blatantly obvious one of giving the Crown Prince an heir. ‘They will have such sleepless nights!’, the Queen’s goons crooned. ‘So young and virile, they are, we’ll have a new Crown Prince in no time!’ Oh, if only it were that easy. If there were to be a Prince, Iris would most likely be the mother, considering he saw her more often than you did. And how funny of a thought that was – you wanted distance from him, yet something died inside you little by little the colder your room got.

“Since we have returned, my schedule will be full.”

You glanced up from where you sat. Suna had sauntered back into the room, his tie loosened; hair messed up like he ran his fingers through it several times. Already, a servant stood beside him to comb his hair back neatly. You couldn’t help but stare. How long had it been since you combed his hair for him? You knew he hated it when they gelled it back. He preferred it messy and unkempt, saying his bedroom hair felt most natural. The bedroom hair he’s shown only to you in the quiet breaks of the night when he was in your bed.

The bedroom hair Iris had seen, as well.

Just the thought of it forces a smile on your face. Standing up, you brushed off the imaginary dust off your skirt. Less than a week in the Palace, and you were already so miserable. You could at least try to look less bothered by his unrequited affections.

“Do what you must.”

Once his hair had been brushed to perfection, Suna gestured for his servant to step away. The man politely bowed down before exiting the room. “I mean to say,” he continued, stepping closer now that there was no one else around. Your breath hitched the closer he got, but you dared not move, not even when his warm, familiar hand cups the curve of your cheek. “The meetings I must attend and people to deal with will take up most of my time.”

You knew what he was trying to say – that he wouldn’t be around, and you had to entertain yourself in his absence. Gently, you take a step back from his touch, watching as an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“And as I have said, do what you must. I have my own duties to fulfill as well.”

“You do not sound bothered by this.”

“Why should I be?” you shrugged, “If I am to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, surely I can enjoy what little time left I have for myself.”

Suna’s lips thinned. “You could act a little less eager to get rid of me.”

“On the contrary, I have no intention of leaving.”

“So I will see you tonight?”

“If we run into each other at the palace, yes, yes you will.”

If he seemed discontent with your half–hearted response, he did not show it. Must be the practiced regality and composure befitting for a Crown Prince like him – all lazy, yet wary, watching eyes. He, too, must know the true meaning behind your words. There was no need to pretend.

You both knew Suna would run into Belleview Manor as soon as the night ends, and his duties for the day had been tended to. Meanwhile, his wife would stay up all night in her couch.

Not quite waiting for him, but not quite imagining if he slept better at her side, either.

It was an unspoken deal between you two already. So he leaves without another word, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when the door finally slams shut.

Tears prick at your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were tired of this. Tired of not knowing where you truly were in his life – were you his wife, his friend? After you’d heard of his passion and dedication to Iris, you weren’t so evil to stop him from seeing her. He loved her first. And you of all people should know the pain of not having the one person you wanted most. To him, she was his unattainable treasure. She was already making him smile before you even came to his life. She was already offering companionship and the comfort he desperately needed in this tiresome world of politics and power. She was his solace in all this chaos.

And you… you were just his wife. And without a baby in your belly, you might as well be just another useless figure in the Palace.

You refused to be so.

You may be worthless to him as his wife, for you truly couldn’t have his heart, but you refused to be a worthless person. Deep down, you knew you weren’t. It was just the title of ‘Princess’ that made you feel incapable and short. Did that mean you weren’t meant to be Princess, then? Should you go back to your manor, learning how to handle the household and managing the family business like your parents taught?

If you were not for Suna, did that mean you were not for the Crown, as well?

You bit your lip in contemplation. There was only one person who could provide you a solution to this.

“It is not every day I am summoned by a Princess,” a smooth, deep voice filtered through the garden. Smiling, you stood up to greet the Third Prince. A curtsy, a bow, and soon you two were sipping tea – the momentary peace a guise of what was to come. Kita must have sensed it, too, his gaze flitting over your pinched face with understanding and patience. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your honeymoon.”

You grimaced. “Definitely not. There were no pleasantries to begin with.”

His face fell.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you… My apologies. I’m not sure how to proceed with this.”

Nodding, you set your tea town. You had a feeling he truly meant his apology, which felt good, seeing as most of the Princes had too much pride to know the word ‘sorry.’ But you hd always known that Prince Kita was unlike the other Princes – he had more honor, and a stronger sense of morality compared to his brothers. Maybe it was due to his being raised by his mother, who was a lawyer, and therefore was not so exposed to the greed and competition experienced by the other Princes.

Whatever it was, he was just different. And you could rely on him to be truthful, too.

“Have you always known about them?” you muttered, refusing to look at the Prince’s face in fear of being met with pity. That was the last thing you wanted – to be seen as the poor, unwanted wife. “Iris and Rintaro?”

“I have.”

“I see.”

Kita sighed. “Please don’t misunderstand, Princess. I never meant to keep it from you. None of us did – except for those truly involved. It was just… I grew up with them, too. Keiji and I were only a year ahead of Rintaro and Iris. When I heard the Crown Prince had become acquainted with a foreign royal scholar, we didn’t think too much of it. Her sudden marriage with Kiyoomi surprised us all, and none of us would’ve thought that her friendship with Rintaro would turn into something more.”

“You don’t need to explain all of this to me, Your Highness.”

“Perhaps, but…” reaching over the table, the Prince squeezed your knuckle. You chuckled, not having realized you’d balled up your hands into a fist. It turned out you couldn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, to act like you didn’t care how much it all hurt. “I do not want you to think I am not on your side.”

“You do not need to be on my side. He is your brother.”

“Blood means little to me when my own kind is cruel to others,” he retorted, looking offended you would suggest otherwise. “I have always been against it, Princess. I told him from the beginning that to covet one’s brother’s wife is one thing, but to involve someone else, all for his selfish reason of ascending a throne that was always rightfully his just seemed heartless.”

Heartless. Gods. To know that your husband was capable of being cruel was one thing, but to hear it coming from his own brother’s lips was another.

“But Rintaro is Rintaro. Of course he is stubborn.”

“Indeed, he is,” Prince Kita sighed in defeat, leaning back against his seat as he stroked his chin in thought. “Princess, while I cannot guarantee I can take all of your woes away, I want you to know you can trust me. If there is anything you need, let me know and I will do it for you. It’s the least I can do to make your stay here in the Palace tolerable.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do, and I am a man of my word.”

“Then I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush,” you gritted your teeth, forcing the words to come out.

It had always been a lingering thought at the back of your mind – to leave Rintaro – but there was this prideful, equally stubborn voice at the back of your head telling you it was too early to give up. That you needed to fight. But what was there to fight for? It wasn’t like Rintaro would learn to love you. And neither do you plan on wooing him. So, instead, you swallowed up your pride and called for Kita, knowing he would never judge you for the choices you were about to make.

“I actually called for you today because I wish to discuss royal marital laws, possibly with your mother. She would know about it best.”

“You need legal counsel,” he caught on, and you nod, “I can arrange that. I assume you want it discreetly, too. That is no problem at all. But if I may be bold, I wish to ask something from you in return.”

“Name your price.”

“It is about this maid that I am fond of. Airi,” her name came out breathily from his mouth, almost like a whisper. You noticed the Prince glancing around the empty garden almost warily, though you already took measures to ensure no one would be around to witness this conversation. Reassured, Kita sat up straighter and looked you in the eye, nothing but sincerity and determination in his expression. “I will do anything you ask of me, as long as it is within legal reasons, if you take her in as your personal maid.”

“I’ve heard rumors about you having affections for a maid in your quarters,” you mumbled, feeling almost sorry for the kind–hearted Prince. It seemed he, too, did not escape the heartbreaking torment for falling for a person you could never have. “So it is true, after all.”

“It is. You seem surprised about it. Is it so shocking to learn of a Prince having genuine feelings for another?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I think I should know best that passion is something you brothers certainly have,” you snort, and Kita fights back a grin. “Very well, then. I will take care of your lovely maid, although I do wish to know – why are you assigning her to me? Have you… done anything to stain her honor?”

The color seeped out of the Prince’s face.

“I would never do such a thing.”

“I figured you wouldn’t.”

Kita’s shoulders squared before he exhaled. “Airi is… Ever since I set my sights on her, she has been in danger. People have been very unkind towards her, especially with the staff in my quarters. And as much as I would love having her by my side in my every waking hour, it would break my heart to know that she is being looked down upon simply because I admire her. But I figure with her at your side, with a new assignment, she will have some peace.”

Your heart ached for him. You could tell this was not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one if he wanted to ensure his lover’s well-being.

“You can still see her, Your Highness. It’s not like I will take her away from you.”

“I wouldn’t let you, either, but these are very difficult times for everyone in the Palace. The security of the throne weakens every day. The Parliament is restless, and there is only so little I can do with all these failed unions,” he rattled on, eyes widening when he realized it too late. Bowing his head, the Prince’s brows furrowed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to–”

“Our marriage is not a failed union. Not yet. I will make certain it will not be a failure.”

It couldn’t be a failure. There was only one way out of this dreadful marriage, and as much as you hated it, that exit only existed in a path where you had no choice but to let him be a great King. This is why you need Kita’s mother’s counsel. Surely there could be a loophole in the clause that would invalidate the marriage. But until that opportunity presents itself, you were stuck here in this Castle, surrounded by everyone but your husband.

You had to make it work.

“With all due respect, Princess,” sighs the Prince, looking more remorseful than irritated. “Why is it that you try so hard? You do not need to stay with him, you know. It may be against the law for royal marriages to be annulled, but surely we can find a way. You do not need to torture yourself by spending one more day with your husband.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you stay?”

“Because,” you croaked out, feeling a lump grow in your throat. “Because loving him is all I had known, and perhaps it is time I learn to despise him, as well.”

Silence stretches. The prince sat there, unmoving, as your words hang in the thick air between you two. You knew he would understand; he wouldn’t judge. But there is still concern in his handsome features that made you realize how pitiful you really are. And maybe there was no one else to blame but yourself, because you were foolish, and in love. But you were trying – by the Gods, you really were doing your best – to just be in love and not have to be foolish anymore.

Kita could see this as well. Your strength, your grit. He could see everything from where he sat, and that was why he simply nodded. “Are you getting there yet?”

“I will get there someday.”

Before the Prince could say anything else, a servant appeared from the bushes. He looked sheepish upon the intrusion, an apologetic smile on his face directed to the Prince. “Your Highness. It is time for your lessons.”

The Prince sent you a knowing look. This was not to be the last time you see each other, and you smiled up at him, grateful. It felt good to have at least one person you could lean on in the Palace. You stood up, too, shaking his hand just as his servant excused himself. If your memory did not fail you, the Third Prince studied law outside of the Palace and had to attend university, unlike his brothers who had chosen to indulge in their promised wealth after graduating high school.

“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to, but my words still ring true – I am only a call away should you need me.”

“Thank you so much for your time, my Prince.”

“It was my pleasure. I will inform you right away of my mother’s availability.”

“Oh, and Princess,” piped up the servant from somewhere around the bushes, “Princess Maiko is looking for you. She is waiting for you in her drawing room.”

You should’ve expected that Princess Maiko would come looking for you. The whole ordeal she witnessed back at your rest house must have come as a shock for her. Sure, her marriage didn’t go so well, either, but at least Tooru hadn’t gone around sleeping with someone else. For a man who didn’t want to get married, he kept to his vow of loyalty to his wife. Still, you didn’t want this to be a competition on who had it worse – Maiko was simply worried, and you had to explain yourself for your untoward behavior on everyone’s getaway.

“Princess! Oh my gosh – how are you?! I was worried sick!”

“Princess,” you return her hug, smiling despite the fact the smaller Princess had a bone–crushing grip. “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am well.”

“Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be,” she pulled back with tears in her eyes. You almost apologized on the spot now that you remembered demanding to return to the City without informing the others why. Especially not Maiko, who seemed to be clueless. “I… I heard from Tooru about everything. The entire situation with Iris and the Crown Prince – truly, I did not know a single thing. If I had, I would have told you right away.”

“I know, and I’m thankful for your support.”

You squeeze her hand in reassurance, and the Princess leads you to sit on the couch. She slumps on it rather ungracefully, her innocent, wide eyes moist as she shakes her head.

“I had no idea Iris could do that. I just… the moment she arrived in the palace, she was so lovely, you know? She was always a little reserved, and liked to keep to herself, but I never would’ve guessed. I truly thought she was a good friend of mine, and now I have no idea who she really is.”

“Neither did I.”

“How are you, though? And please, tell me the truth. You do not need to pretend all is well.”

You shrug half-heartedly. “I am the Crown Prince’s wife. I must learn to be strong.”

“You mustn’t torture yourself any longer,” she licks her lips, chuckling without a trace of humor in it. “Although I do not blame you for staying in a marriage without love,” she smiled sadly, holding your hand firmer where it sat on her lap. “What do you plan to do?”

“I will divorce him,” you announced, and finally saying it loud felt different than just having the thought float in your head. It now felt like a reality. A choice you had to be firm in making. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful wedding ring sitting on your finger – how just like your marriage, it is sparkling yet meaningless.

Leaving him would be the right choice. It would not mean you were weak.

“Once I meet with Kita’s mother and work our way around the law… I’m going to leave him. If it is a proper marriage he wants, then it is the one thing he will not get,” braving to look her in the eyes, you force a determined smile. “I believe it is the right thing to do, Your Highness. I must pick my battles wisely.”

“I understand, and I support you if this is what you want to do.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Although…”

“Although?”

“I still find it hard to believe,” she quipped, momentarily letting go of your hand as she stood up, pacing around the room. Her dark hair, neatly braided and adorned with headpieces, slowly started falling into curled pieces around her delicate face with how fast she’d been pacing. Almost as if her feet couldn’t quite keep up with her thoughts. “Iris and Kiyoomi had been married for five years, and Tooru told me they’d loved each other long before then. I am aware I am not the best at reading the room, but surely I am not so foolish to miss the love in their eyes. I would have known, Your Highness, I swear.”

You smile, confused. “I… am not sure I understand what you mean.”

“I mean Iris never looked in love,” she reiterated. “Granted, she was never affectionate with Kiyoomi, so that much is clear, but with the Crown Prince? They barely even speak to each other.”

“You couldn’t have known if they did spend time together,” you told her as softly as you could, “I heard they often hid in Belleview Manor, away from the eyes of the public.”

“But I live here,” she argued, and you stopped trying to butt in. For such a small thing, you had already learned once Maiko had her head set on something, almost nothing could stop her. “I live in Honor Hall, just five minutes away from them! I could have heard something. And on the few times I do see them together, Iris had always seemed… walled off. If Rintaro was able to display his affections openly, Iris was not the same. That night you weren’t at the house, they did not seem like a happy couple to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Maiko shook her head again, causing more curls to loosen. “They seemed familiar with each other, but not intimate. It was almost as if they were lovers purely in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have known each other’s heart,” her eyes lit up, before it dimmed again when she took in your somber expression. “I do not mean to give you false hope, Princess, but believe me. I know a man in love when I see one, and it is not the Crown Prince with Iris. But… but when you were not married yet, everyone could tell the Crown Prince smiled more. He laughed often, too, and he even spent more time with his brothers.”

“Well, that is only natural. He has a lot of siblings. Of course he would enjoy their company.”

“No, no, you do not understand, Princess. The Crown Prince… didn’t grow up that way,” she bit her lip, and then scooted next to you. “As the only son of the King and Queen, he was already more important than the rest. Because of that, he was raised differently – away and isolated from his brothers. He was always tutored alone, and never played with the other Princes. He spent his childhood locked up in his study, but then the Queen allowed him to attend regular school, and when he graduated… he met you. And I swear, he was different then.”

“Because he already met her,” you remarked, hoping she would stop already. Rintaro does not love you. “He’d become happier because Iris was already in his life.”

“I went to the same school with them; grew up with them. I had crushed on Prince Tooru for so long that I followed wherever he went, and where Tooru was, the Crown Prince would follow. They were born just months apart. And Iris never made the Crown Prince look… look…”

“Look what?”

“Look content,” she finally supplied. “But when the Crown Prince introduced you to us, he had this look on his face. When you spoke to others, he would always be looking at you, listening to your every word. Even when you were not in the same room, he would speak fondly of you. And he even once told me he still could not believe someone as precious as you had been attending the same lousy balls he’d been enduring all his life. He said that if he had met you earlier, he might have never skipped out attending the dances.”

“I don’t know,” your lips trembled, “I do not know what to do, Princess. Hearing of this does not make it any better.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you must understand,” she squeezed your hand, desperation evident in her tone. “Your husband looks at you the way I wished mine would at me. He may say otherwise, but his eyes cannot lie. He softens when you are around, Princess. That night you did not return home at Greenville, the Crown Prince could not sleep at all. And these past few days…”

“I believe that is enough. I do not wish to hear how he spent his nights at Belleview.”

“He didn’t, Your Highness. The Crown Prince has never even spoken to Iris ever since we returned from your honeymoon.”

Rintaro could count the number of things pissing him off with one hand.

One: You had barely acknowledged his existence the past few days.

Two: Iris wouldn’t stop pulling him into dark, secluded corners in the Castle each time she chanced upon him. Two-point-five: She couldn’t understand he was not in the mood for another one of their trysts.

Three: Kiyoomi skipped another meeting concerning Itachiyama again.

Seriously, Rintaro understood being a Prince was tiresome work. It was not as grandiose as the tabloids made it out to be. Even in his sleep, he sometimes dreamt of paperwork, or he would wake up in the middle of the night with his hands signing off imaginary papers. The pressure was tougher on Kiyoomi, too, because he was expected to be ready to take after Wakatoshi at any time he even faltered – note: the First Prince never did – and to also act as representative for the other territory thanks to his birthright. But his brother was an hermit, and seemed to fear the sunlight, considering he never left his quarters. Or on the rare occasions he did, he would be hiding away in other countries doing who knows what.

He had just finished a meeting with some of the territory leaders regarding a public complaint that the price of goods had gone up, and some daily necessities were now ridiculously overpriced. One of the main suppliers of good livestock and coconuts, Itachiyama, made it even more expensive – not for any good reason, just that their leader loved to remind Inarizaki constantly that they needed him more than he needed the monarchy.

His goading affected his people, and Rintaro has had enough. Kiyoomi could at least try to pretend to be interested in the meetings. Out of all the nine princes, Kiyoomi was the most influential for being a half-blood. The Itachiyama president adored him. He wouldn’t have had to struggle negotiating for prices had he been doing his work. He was the damned mediator between the two countries, for goodness’ sake!

And to make it all worse, his life did not get any better outside the meeting rooms.

No, because his wife was intent on acting like he did not exist. And on the few times he did manage to be in the same space as you without you running off, you always looked through him. Like he wasn’t even a real person. As if he was just an apparition, a ghost in your mind that you could overlook if you tried hard enough.

He already knew you wouldn’t be in your quarters once he returned, but Rintaro still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment washing over him. He chose you to be his future Queen for many reasons, one of them being your wisdom in these kinds of things. You just needed a little encouragement to speak up, but Rintaro was confident you would make a great leader. You had genuine care for your people. You would have been able to help him make the best decisions for everybody – if you would just listen to him. Wasn’t that how marriages work? To share the burden of the Crown together? The Crown was too heavy for one person alone, which is why Kings cannot be crowned without their Queens.

Rintaro couldn’t do it alone. Each day was becoming more challenging for him, and he so desperately wished he could discuss the country’s future with you. He would feel more confident in his choices. He would be more reassured that he was doing the right thing, but it seemed that all he knew how to do lately was fuck everything up.

On his way back, Rintaro stopped trying to look regal. He let his shoulders slump and ran his fingers through his hair again. The gel be damned. Loosening his tie, he rolled his shoulders back and winced at how stiff his back was. Sitting on his ass all day long, having to listen to old men argue back and forth over money, and simultaneously having to deal with a marriage he’d already screwed over – Rintaro just wanted to disappear.

He wanted to return to Greenville.

It was peaceful there. People minded their own business, everyone had their own purpose and reason for waking up each day and there, he could just be himself. Not the Crown Prince, not a young man who had to hurt you for the sake of the throne. He could just… be free.

“Your Highness,” a servant bowed in front of him, keeping a respectful distance but enough to let him know he needed his attention.

“Good evening,” he greeted back, “Have you seen my wife?”

“Her Highness was with Princess Maiko this morning. Last I heard, she has not left the Palace, at all.”

“I see,” Rintaro was already moving towards Honor Hall before his feet could register it. It was a good twenty minute walk, and the chances of running into Iris weren’t miniscule, but it would be worth it. He could use some fresh air, anyway. And he figured with Maiko around, you would be less opposed to spending the evening with him – until he realized Maiko must have known everything, too. How he manipulated you, and left you in the middle of nowhere.

On second thought, having two Princesses who clearly did not welcome him would not make for a great night.

“My Prince!”

Rintaro stopped on his tracks. He had a split second to school his expression to surprise – the good kind – when he came face to face with the last woman he wanted to see.

“Mother,” he greeted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles whilst she fanned herself. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting.”

She waved her fan around. “Oh, I had to nearly knock down the guards when they wouldn’t let me in, but I had to see my daughter. I heard from the news that you came home too early. Well, what is wrong? Is she sick? Does she not like the countryside? Or perhaps there was an emergency you had to attend to?” fanning herself harder, Rintaro’s hand wound at the small of her back to guide the older woman into a nearby seat. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I am worried, my son.”

“Your concern for her will put her at ease, I’m certain,” he reassured, swallowing the uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. “This is just… a difficult time for us, Mother. I fear Her Highness is having doubts about our marriage once she saw how overwhelming the Crown could be. She simply wished to return home because she felt there were things to be done here.”

Your mother sighed and shook her head. “My poor daughter. She always felt the need to prove her worth by working herself to death,” spinning to face him, she pointed her fan in his direction – which would be considered a threat to the Crown Prince, but she was his mother–in–law. Her presence itself was a threat to his life. “Promise me you won’t let her exhaust herself, son. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“She is in good hands, Mother, I promise you this.”

Pleased with him, your mother beamed. “I was also… Well, I may be crossing the line, but now that you tell me my poor daughter is anxious about her royal duties, I was planning to hold a ball in her honor. A welcoming ball for the new Princess, of sorts. It should help her integrate into your world better, but still with the comfort of our support.”

“A ball sounds lovely. We can hold it anytime as we are still in our honeymoon period and she will be free for quite some time.”

“That is perfect! I will make the arrangements, then.”

Wearing his best Prince Charming smile, even if he was anything but, Rintaro found himself mindlessly agreeing to everything your mother wanted. He would have to squeeze all these events in his already hectic schedule, but he was not complaining. She was right. You deserved to relax and enjoy yourself. He should know best that having royal titles did not promise a life of gallivanting and endless tea parties. Once your mother had exhausted herself from all the planning, Rintaro escorted her out to the palace entrance, stopping only when your figure appeared from the corner.

Finally, you were looking at him.

But with a glare.

Well, he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“You are a far better actor than I give you credit for – lying to my mother like that.”

“I did not mean to.”

You rolled your eyes, and Rintaro bit his lip. Cute, he thought, but he would never say it out loud. He would simply enjoy the fact you did not push him away, or walk away as if you were scalded when he started walking next to you. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal. Minus the extreme glaring, of course.

“Surely. It’s not like telling her you manipulated me for the past two years was on your to-do list.”

“Do not use that tone on me.”

“I will speak with you however I wish. You do not get to tell me what to do.”

“You are right; I cannot tell you what to do, so do as you please, then,” he surrendered, and you must be surprised by how he easily gave in from the way you froze. Glaring harder, Rintaro bit his cheek, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon your pretty face. And oh, how badly he wanted to smooth that frown you’re wearing. “I missed you. I have not seen you all day long.”

“Must have been a lovely day for you, then.”

It was hell, actually, was what he wanted to say, but even that did not seem enough to articulate what he truly felt. I missed you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Please sleep on the same bed with me again. I want to hold you all night long, and your scent calms me. But instead, all that comes out of his mouth was, “It was not lovely at all.”

“Hmm. I’m not Iris.”

“No, you aren’t.”

He agreed wholeheartedly – you were not his lover. Iris would not argue with him like this; in fact, they never argued at all. Whenever they had misunderstandings, they resolved it by taking out their frustrations on the bedroom, and the next day, all would be forgiven and forgotten. It was easier with Iris, in some ways, because with you he actually had to use his words, and he had to say the right ones. Both of which he wasn’t good at, but would try his very best anyway.

“I heard you spent the day with Maiko. How was it? Did you two have fun?”

“As fun as two women suffering at the hands of men who despise them could have.”

Rintaro took a larger step to stand in front of you, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I do not despise you.”

“Really? You made me feel otherwise.”

Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, feeling much more exhausted than he did after the meetings ended. “You do not have to make this so difficult, you know. I am trying to fix this.”

The laugh you let out is sardonic, teetering on the edges of borderline angry. But he would take it – because arguments with you were better than having you ignore him, and he would take a thousand more arguments if it meant you talked. He would consume your wrath over your coldness every other day. Even when you cross your arms and look at him like he was the most vile creature to ever walk the Earth – because your eyes are on him, and in that moment, in the middle of another of a hundred hallways in his Palace, there was no one else but you and him. A husband and his wife. A Prince and his Princess.

“Oh, are you now? Because last time I checked, you were still in love with someone else, and I’m still nothing but a pawn in your silly game.”

“I may be in love with someone else, but it was you who I couldn’t get off my mind.”

“Is that supposed to make my heart flutter?”

You reel back as if burnt, and Rintarou couldn’t fathom why your expression hurt him so much. As if his declaration, his vulnerability, of being putty in your hands repulsed you instead of excited you. However, he refused to show he hung desperately to your every word, refused to admit that you held all the power in your hands, not him. So, he plays it off, and flirtingly lifts a brow just to get you even more riled up.

“I was hoping it would.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, Rintaro, you won’t win.”

His eyes darkened. Suddenly, all self-restraint he previously had had been thrown out the window. The urge to press his lips to you – yes, those same lips scowling at him – becomes all too consuming. He fools himself into taking the heat in your eyes as desire instead of anger. And he takes one step forward, two, then three, until your back hits the wall and his large frame prevents you from escaping. He liked you best here, he realized, under his mercy and staring up at him with your soft lips, pliant and open to release a gasp when he leans in. Closer, closer, only for his lips to meet the skin of your cheek.

Rintaro stifled a disappointed groan.

Masking it with a chuckle, he trailed his lips down your cheek and to your jawline, all the way until he’s inhaling your intoxicating scent – he wants your damned perfume to stick to his skin for days to come so everyone in the Palace knows he is yours. And like a flower, you bloom only to him. Craning your neck and pushing your chest upwards to his despite your resistance, breathing hard and heavy to let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by this.

And by the Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take you in this wall right here and then.

Brushing his lips just above your pulse point, Rintaro smiled. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was certain his was, too, when you began to crumple his shirt in your hands. “I never knew my name could sound so important without the titles attached to it.”

“Wh–what?” your query came out breathily. Not that he could blame you, for his words have also begun to sound more like a whisper.

“Rintaro,” he echoed, nosing your neck to greedily take in more of your scent. If not on his skin, then he will settle for the evidence of you all over his clothes – and damned the servants who dared wash his dress shirt. “Not Prince, not Your Highness. Just Rintaro. It makes me feel like… it is just you and I, husband and wife, as simple as that,” you draw in another gasp just as his fingers start ghosting over your waist, fighting the urge to pin you in place, or to just hold you delicately because he knew he’d broken you enough. Rintaro felt weak, his head dropping in the column of your shoulder. “I truly did miss you. And I do not like how I spent many nights, in our bed, alone.”

“You do not deserve to share a bed with me.”

“I know,” he lamented, and that firm resolve of keeping him at a distance was enough to wake him up. Pushing himself off of you, Rintaro took a solid minute to admire you like this – lips parted, expectant for a kiss, and skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat, with eyes so bewildered he could see himself clearly in the reflection – that he was just a man now, and not really the husband you wanted him to be. Once he had his fill, Rintaro smoothed down the wrinkles you fisted in his shirt and took a step back. “But you do not deserve to sleep in just a couch. Take the bed tonight. I will sleep outside.”

“But that’s–”

“I’m the one who fucked up,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his face, “So I should be the one sleeping uncomfortably. I know I cannot tell you what to do, and neither do I plan on ordering you around, but this is the one thing you cannot argue with me on. You will take the bed. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Back to titles. Back to formality. Back to reality.

“Good girl,” he murmured absentmindedly, nodding in the direction of your bedroom. “Let us head back to our quarters. I’m buying you a new dress for the ball first thing in the morning.”

To say Rintaro had changed would be an understatement.

He was a completely different person than your husband in the honeymoon. It was as if… last night’s intimate encounter had brought him back to the Rintaro you fell in love with, but this time it felt different. He felt more intense. Maybe it was the fact that his secrets were now laid out in the open, which could mean his attentive actions toward you no longer held the purpose of winning you over. Maybe now he truly just wanted to spend time with you because he could.

Cancelling his plans for the day, he’d told the servants you were going out shopping, and oh, what a cunning, devilish Prince he is. He knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him out in public. With so many eyes watching, you spent nearly every second of the day with your arms looped around his, laughing and smiling at every word he said, and not daring to keep your eyes off him lest someone took a photographed and headlined it ‘Newly Married Royal Couple Having Their First Lovers’ Spat In Public.’ No. No, that would be catastrophic. The Queen would be furious.

Here, in public, you were forced to act sweet and touchy with him, to which the stupid Crown Prince basked in as he led you from boutique to boutique. He complimented you on everything, even when you wore a hideous bright orange gown that made even the designer flinch. But in Rintaro’s eyes, you were simply mesmerizing. He even got a suit that matched all of your dresses, claiming that everyone should know he was married to you. Everyone already knew that – the whole world knew – but you didn’t want to burst his bubble.

Aside from having a day off, your husband genuinely did seem to be doing things other than paperwork.

You stopped being kind once you entered the car, however, when the windows had rolled up and you had both stopped waving to the people. Here, it was just the driver and the both of you, and the driver knew better than to comment on whatever happened, anyway. Sighing, you scooted to the other end of the seat, prying yourself off of Rintaro’s tight grip around your waist.

“Drop the act.”

“What act?”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking off your gloves and folding them neatly in your lap. “We are in the privacy of our car. You needn’t pretend any longer.”

“Who said I was pretending?”

You looked at him dead in the eye. “You are not fooling anyone. This was all a PR act – you did not actually mean whatever it is you said to me out there, but worry not. I’ll get out of your hair and divorce you – surely that will make everything easier.”

The way Rintaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head would be comical if he didn’t look so scared. In a flash, your husband crossed the distance and sat next to you, his hurried movements causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His large hands began to engulf yours, and you suck in a breath – without the gloves, it felt more intimate. “What divorce?” he chuckled nervously, brushing his lips over your bare knuckles. It was the faintest of touches, only done to appease you, but it still didn’t stop the bolt of heat coursing through your thighs. Gods, it was just so hard trying to stay mad at him.

“You know that’s impossible. Royal marriages are forever. Look, if you truly wish to divorce me, fine. But you know you will have to help me become King first. Once I am crowned, I can write a new law that says royal couples can be separated.”

“You are despicable.”

“I am,” he whined. Whined! Seriously, who was this man? “But I promise you, if you help me, I will let you go. Look, I’ll even find a high–ranking nobleman for you. The best of the best. You wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. Just… don’t ever mention divorce to me right now. I won’t let you.”

Scoffing, you pull your hands back from his heavenly lips. “You seriously think after everything, loneliness is somehow my biggest issue?” Rintaro opened his mouth to retort, but you shook your head, making yourself small between him and the window seat. You hated it, how helpless you felt, from wanting his touch to being burnt by it. You hated it even more how you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled, “Have you ever thought that maybe I just want to forget you?”

“I do not want you to,” he breathed out, and your eyes snapped shut when you felt his fingers brush over your cheeks. “But I am not so selfish to deprive you of a good thing. You will find someone who can love you better than I could.”

Your heart fell.

“Well, that would be easy. You never loved me to begin with.”

The Crown Prince never spoke again. You both mulled over your silences as you arrived back at the Palace, heading into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. Rintaro was to your left, taking out his razor blade and shaving foam while you stood to his right, lathering on your cleanser and toner. Thankfully, the silence did not feel as heavy as it did on the ride back home, but it was still far from being comfortable. It was only after you’d moisturized and turned to leave the room that Rintaro caught your wrist, glancing down at you with a pleading expression.

“Please. Can we stop fighting? I thought today was fun. Let us not end it hating each other.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I ruined your precious day,” you snapped, leaning back to examine how he missed a spot below his jaw. A slight stubble was visible, but you had to stop your hand from reaching out to him. You sighed. “All this space in the Palace and they couldn’t give us separate bathrooms?”

“Traditionally, royal married couples slept in separate rooms. Everything was separate, too, including bathrooms,” he gestured around you, “Perhaps you would’ve liked the old ways.”

Screw it. The small talk is the most awkward thing you have ever experienced.

“…You missed a spot,” you finally mumbled, taking his razor from him and gesturing for him to crouch down so you can reach. “Do you want me to finish it?”

Rintaro, despite his surprise, nodded and obeyed. It must have been uncomfortable for him to slouch, but he did so without complaints. He let you shave him as you saw fit, turning his head side to side, lathering on more foam, and you watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Eyes fluttering close, Rintaro sighed, the tips of his fingers gingerly tracing circles as they laid beside your hips.

“You will take the bed as discussed,” he reminded, “You will not argue with me on this.”

“Okay,” you answered, because you, too, had no energy for more arguments. Once you were done with him, you wiped off the rest of the foam with a warm, wet towel. You both left the bathroom and went your separate ways – you to your king–sized bed, and him just outside the bedroom and into the lounge room, where you spent the past few nights sleeping. You realized he must not be sleeping well from it because of his large frame, yet Rintaro did not seem to mind.

Just as he was about to close the door, he lingered for a few beats.

“Thank you for going along the happily married couple act today,” he said, lifting his gaze from the carpeted floors to gaze into your eyes. “And for the record, I meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

Then he turned, and swiftly closed the door, leaving you to be with your thoughts – all filled of him.

It didn’t help that the sheets and pillows still lingered with his scent.

You had your upcoming ball to thank for distracting you from your confusing feelings for your husband. That in itself was such a ridiculous statement, but one that ringed true. After Rintaro’s surprising gentleness, and the revelation from Maiko that he hadn’t spoken at all with Iris, you were now in a dangerous zone called Getting Your Hopes Up. Truly, you should know better. You had known Rintaro for years to know he could be effortlessly charming. He could have you wrapped tight around his finger, smiling like a lovesick fool, only for him to break your heart once more.

If not for that cold, hard truth, you would have invited him to bed with you that night. It seemed too tempting. It felt like the right thing to do. But you didn’t, and you were glad you held back on your desire, because you weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak.

Especially because these past few days made you realize one thing – that you were still in love with him. The next morning, you found yourself wishing you had woken up next to him, and that was enough to make you avoid your husband all over again. And much to your disappointment, Rintaro stopped trying to chase after you, too, after countless rejections on your part. He had kept his distance, and only spoke with you momentarily when you arrived at your mother’s ball and had to exchange niceties with everyone.

After that, your husband excused himself and spoke with his brothers, but not after your parents couldn’t stop cooing at how adorable you and the Crown Prince were. He handled it with grace; kissing your cheek and thanking them for raising such a wonderful daughter. But the moment your parents became occupied with welcoming other guests, you were now left to entertain the other women in the ball.

Until the music began playing.

Until your song reverberated all across the room.

“This is the song you and the Crown Prince danced to the night you met,” your mother whispered beside you, giggling in your ear. “I requested it specifically for this night. Enjoy the dance with your husband. He’s already waiting.”

True to her word, you could feel Rintaro’s heated gaze on you from across the room. He’d stopped speaking with his brothers – the twins smirking beside him, Akaashi smiling at you softly, Tobio waving enthusiastically while nursing a glass of wine, and Kita firmly hovering from the walls with a concerned frown. Not that you paid attention to them. Your gaze was held by your husband and him only, bewitched as he started walking forward. The crowed parted for him like a true Prince until nothing stood in his way. Everyone smiled, giggling behind their gloves at the apparent ‘romance in the air.’ Beside you, your mother pushed you encouragingly, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, waiting to see if you would take the Crown Prince’s outstretched hands.

“My love,” he whispered above your gloved hands, and your heart skipped a beat. He didn’t call you Princess, or Your Highness. You knew it was for the sake of keeping appearances, but by the Gods, you loved him. You were so hopelessly in love with your husband that you placed your heart in his hands once more, silently pleading with him not to break it as he led you in the middle of the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your hand resting on his shoulder as naturally as his arms came to your waist. The exact same movements from the night you first met, with the same song, but with your love for him stronger tonight than it did when you first laid your eyes on him.

This time, you danced as man and wife, and you recalled his words from the other day.

How there were moments it seemed so simple – where there were no titles, just you and him, having this dance like it was the most natural, inexplicable thing in this world.

The chord struck. The crowd parted. He took the first step in the dance, and you took a step back. Not once did you tear your gaze away from him, happily drowning in the depths of his hazel eyes you could look at forever. And isn’t that what you’d always wanted? To spend a lifetime with him, to grow old together. It would have been so easy if it weren’t for –

“Don’t think about anything else,” your husband shook his head lightly, “Just enjoy this moment. Tonight, there is only you and I.”

“Okay,” you found yourself nodding, and his grip on your waist tightened for a second. “Just you and I.”

Rintaro’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “Just you and I.”

You and him in those moments – you felt immortal. Like nothing could stand in your way. Or perhaps you could die tonight, and you would die happy. Because you were in your husband’s arms, and he was looking at you and only you, murmuring how you were becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day. You were melting in his arms, like goo. Like pudding. And he was strong enough to catch you, to brush his nose against yours at each dip, or letting his lips linger on your forehead each time you came back to him with each spin.

But happy moments never lasted long enough, and soon the rotations were beginning. More couples have joined the dance floor. Through one spin, you caught sight of Tooru and Maiko. Neither of them looked happy, but Tooru visibly brightened when he caught your eye, and shamelessly winked. On the other side of the room danced Iris and Kiyoomi, with the latter looking so nauseous you worried dinner would be spilled on your mother’s floor. And then too soon, Rintaro’s hands were leaving yours as he moved to the nearest dance partner, and you were caught by a pair of strong, muscled arms.

“My turn,” Tooru teased, a grin now on his handsome face as he nudged his head in Rintaro’s direction. He was now dancing with your mother, and you could tell, even from this distance, the smile he wore was genuine. “Should I beat him up?”

You chuckled, throwing your head back. Despite his jokes and jabs, Prince Tooru was a surprisingly great dancer – less stiff than Rintaro, and more confident in his receiving when you spun and dipped. But dancing with him did not feel the same. There was no passion, no yearning, no longing – just the lighthearted air of good humor and his calming nature.

“I don’t think beating the Crown Prince up would be a very wise decision.”

“Indeed, but I was never the Prince known for making wise decisions. That would be more Shinsuke’s forte,” he snorted, and the song reached a part for another rotation. However, Tooru refused to let you go and intentionally spun you away from what was supposed to be your next dance partner. Out of shock, you slapped his chest, and his broad chest rumbled with laughter.

“Your Highness! That was unbelievably rude!”

“As I have said,” you both laughed when he spun you again, “I am not the Prince known to be socially adept.”

You bent over in giggles, your head resting on his chest as you danced more throughout the night. Your feet were getting tired, but your mother was right – this was a night to enjoy. You danced to your heart’s content, exchanging jokes with the handsome Fifth Prince until you craned your neck to the side, only to be stopped by Prince Tooru’s large hand. This time, he no longer smiled as he gazed upon the dancing partners behind you, and your skin turned cold.

You had a feeling you knew exactly why.

“Don’t look. You won’t like what you’ll see.”

Nodding, you pursed your lips and forced a smile at him. “It’s okay, Princess,” he comforted, “Just look at me. You need not concern yourself with others.”

So you danced, and danced, until you could hear your father pleading with the Fifth Prince to give his daughter back because he didn’t get a chance to have a dance with you yet. Reluctantly, Tooru handed you over to your father, but not without a faux frown.

“That was a lovely dance, Your Highness. I wish we could’ve danced more.”

“I think we danced enough.”

Tooru’s smile was guarded; secretive. “I’m afraid it was not enough.”

You danced with your father next. And it was lovely, seeing him up close with all his smile lines and wrinkles. You missed him so, dearly, and he felt the same way. It hurt having to lie to him when he asked how you were settling in the Palace, but you didn’t want to concern him with your personal matters, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with you if your father disliked Rintaro. So you swallowed your discomfort down and told him everything was great – silently wishing he wouldn’t pry further. He didn’t. And when the song slowed, your father kissed you on the cheek before letting you meet with your next dancing partner.

Stood in front of you was a great wall of what could only be described as majestic. Dressed in white with gold ornaments, Prince Kiyoomi’s curls framed his handsome face beautifully. You had been so accustomed seeing him in more comfortable clothing, and in the privacy of his own home, that seeing him out here in society, it reminded you that he, too, was a Prince.

The Second Prince – the would have been next King should Ushijima and Rintaro falter.

“My Prince.”

“Princess,” he bowed, taking your hand in his as you made your way back to the dance floor. The music played again, this time louder, and the Prince leaned down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. You repressed a gasp, unable to help yourself from digging your nails into his palm when you were greeted by how good he smelled – like mint, new leather, and pine. It also dawned on you how tall and firm the Prince was – perhaps taller and more muscular than Rintaro.

“Y–Yes, Your Highness?”

“Remind me to thank your mother for extending her invites to the forgotten Prince. Imagine my shock when I saw her invitation letter this morning.”

You chuckled nervously, thankful that he had now slightly tilted his head back. “I hardly doubt you are a forgotten prince.”

He snorted, effortlessly spinning you with one hand. “It’s not like I do my duties to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I truly was forgotten,” distracted by his scent, you unknowingly stepped on the hem of your dress and slipped backwards. A scream nearly tore out your throat when the Prince’s large hands cupped the small of your back, your chest pressed to his and his curls brushing against your cheeks as he held you close. “Careful.”

“Th–thank you.”

You were a mess after that. You were never the best dancer, but something about being in the older Prince’s presence made you extra nervous. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He simply danced with grace, and hid his grimace well each time you stepped on his toes. He had also convinced you to stop apologizing every time you did, and by the time the dance was over, you were more than ready to disappear.

“Thank you for the dance, my Prince,” you bowed, words hurried, “I shall see you–”

“Kiyoomi!” a woman appeared out of nowhere, her thick, dark curls pinned up beautifully with some loose strands swaying in time with her hips. She had the same moles as Kiyoomi, and you watched, entranced, as the older woman wrapped her arm casually around the prince. The two shared a silent conversation with their eyes before Kiyoomi glanced at you, and the woman followed his line of sight. “Oh! Your Highness. Greetings. I don’t believe I have introduced myself before – I’m Kanami; Kiyoomi’s mother.”

You smiled at her, politely taking her hand as she extracted herself from her son’s arms and taken to draping herself all over you. Discomfort must be written all over your face, because the Second Prince sent an apologetic smile your way.

“It is an honor to meet you, Miss Kanami. Are you enjoying the night so far? The travel all the way from Itachiyama must have been exhausting.”

“Oh, it was, but it’s all worth it now that we’ve met again!” she squealed, and you paled.

“We have met before?”

Just as she nodded and went about to retelling this so–called meeting, Iris popped up behind Kiyoomi, her smile stiff as she regarded Kanami. Instantly, your mood soured. She hadn’t spoken to you at all tonight, which you were thankful, but something about the thought of her dancing with your husband, and probably being suggestive while at it had your blood boiling.

“Mother! Such a shock seeing you here. I wasn’t aware you were invited.”

Kanami barely glanced her way, her dark, curious eyes still on your face.

“Hello, Iris, and it’s Miss Sakusa, dear,” she corrected, her enthusiastic smile momentarily fading into a scowl before it returned. “Say, Your Highness, since you’re still on your honeymoon period – and I’ve heard your dear husband is too busy these days – would you want to come visit Itachiyama with me? I would be honored to be your host. It will also be a great opportunity to learn more about your Princess duties and politics!” leaning closer, she whispered behind her gloves, although her words were loud enough to be heard by Prince Tooru and Iris. “Although if I will be honest, politics does not interest me in the least bit.”

Your mouth fell open and closed, unsure of what to say, until you settled on chuckling and patting her hand wrapped around your arm. “I… Thank you for invitation, Kanami. I am most tempted to see your beautiful country, but Princess Iris should be the one visiting her territory, should she not?”

Kanami scrunched her nose.“The Princess never grew up in Itachiyama. She would be just as clueless as you. Besides, I have always wanted to invite you over ever since you had Kiyoomi as your last dance on your eighteenth birthday!”

“He… was?”

“He was! Don’t you remember, dear?” she turned to Kiyoomi, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him already. But judging by his reaction, it seemed true – Kiyoomi was your last dance on your debut ball. “Well, in that case, I was always fond of you. I may be crossing the line here, but it was always a famous royal saying that whoever was your last dance on your debutante ball was your destined lover.”

#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou angst #suna x yn #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #kiyoomi sakusa x you #suna x you #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintarō x you #series: dusk till dawn

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ganondoodle · 2 days

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(totk rewritten)

finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf

(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)

note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)

note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)

additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)

the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it

about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half

... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q

#ganondoodles #zelda #ganondoodles rewrites totk #tloz #art #concept art #loz #ok im gonna play some games now #might do future concepts more with clean text #so i dont even get into the situation of having to redo everything jkdfkd #also im not a game designer so if i got any game designers following me id love to hear what you think #THOUGH theres alot of other mechanics missign here #like the weapon repair system- the new healing system in detail- the mini dungeons that arent shrines again- the pockets to find to-#-expand your inventory instead of krog poop- etc etc #ngl so nervous about posting this bc i know its less appealing than the full art pieces #but how am i gonna get mechanics across if not like this #i dont even know what to tackle next lol #everything plays into each reworked system so theres always gonna be soemthing that seems off on its own #but i cant put it all into one post bc that would put the colors of the sky post to shame how long it would be kjbgvkdbngkk

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purple-obsidian · 2 days

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Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?

(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)

be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800

⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.

"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You second guessing me, princess?"

"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"

Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."

"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.

"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."

Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.

"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"

"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."

Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.

But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"

He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.

"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.

"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.

"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."

Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"

He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

#purple-obsidian #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #for lola #sids moots #sid answers #thanks for the ask!

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katelynnwrites · 2 days

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I'm Losing It (All I Get's Jealousy) | Laura Freigang

warnings: ~

word count: 1377

summary: your girlfriend, laura gets jealous at national camp

a/n: jealousy is not something i've written before because jealousy isn't an emotion i have much experience with but i got two requests (one, two) so this is my attempt to do so

‘Hey.’ You laugh as a certain blonde pulls you into her lap, when you walk past her in the locker room.

‘I missed you.’ She complains, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and tightening her arms around you.

‘I’m right here schatz.’ You murmur, leaning back into her.

Laura presses a kiss onto your forehead, content for you to stay where you are.

Even when more of your teammates trail into the locker room.

‘You’re a cosy pair.’ Sara immediately teases.

‘Also I hate to interrupt but it’s our turn for media.’ Jule adds, with a mischievous grin.

You giggle and turn around to kiss your girlfriend on her cheek, ‘See you in a bit.’

Laura pouts, ‘Do you really have to go?’

‘Yes.’ You hum and kiss her again to appease her.

The blonde accepts it and relents, letting you follow Jule out of the room.

The younger player pokes fun at you as soon as the two of you are out of the striker’s earshot.

‘You’re so in love with her. Like you should have seen your heart eyes.’

You blush and shrug, knowing better than to try and counter any sort of comment about the depth of your feelings for your girlfriend.

‘Really! When's the wedding?’

Her words get a laugh out of you, ‘I don’t know Jule but I will be sure to invite you when I do know.’

That's how it is with the Wolfsburg player. She is easy to get along with and makes you smile a lot.

With the media team facilitating, the activity goes by quickly and with Jule participating along with you, is a great deal of fun.

In fact, you laugh so much that you’re still smiling when you get back to the locker room.

Lea is there, having finished her own media day activity.

Your Bayern teammate sidetracks you as you try to make your way to Laura, with a simple request of helping her touch up her make up for photos in the new home kit.

You’re happy to oblige, biting your lip in concentration as you apply a fresh coat of mascara to her eyelashes.

When you are finished and turn back to where Laura was sitting, she’s gone.

Sydney tells you that she’d left for her own media day activity when you ask.

With a sigh, you go and look for a snack to tide you over till your girlfriend is free.

It seems like Obi has the same idea because you find her already digging into a bag of corn chips.

She offers to share it with you but only if you listen to the list of pick up lines she’s been working on, with every intention of annoying her own girlfriend with them once she’s back home.

Sitting beside her, you dip your hand into the bag as you listen.

‘Are you lightning? Cause you’re McQueen.’

You snort, ‘Awful.’

Lena chuckles before reading out another, ‘Are you a charger? Because I'm dying without you.’

This one doesn’t even merit any response other than you rolling your eyes.

‘What’s it like to be the most gorgeous person in the room?’

You giggle, ‘I don't know. I'd have to ask Laura.’

The midfielder groans, ‘Stop it. You have it much too bad for her.’

Eating another corn chip, you nod acceptingly and Obi shakes her head in disbelief.

‘They say nothing lasts forever. Want to be my nothing?’

‘Eh. It’s not completely dreadful.’ You feedback.

‘Are your shoelaces tied? Because I don’t want you falling for anyone else.’

‘Cheesy but better.’

Lena grins and encouraged by your words, tells you another, ‘Let’s play a game…not hide and seek though, people like you are hard to find.’

‘No. No. No. Obi, that is terrible.’

‘Well the whole point is to annoy my girlfriend, not sweep her off her feet. I've already done that.’ She points out proudly.

You grimace and the brunette offers you more corn chips.

‘Last one okay? I swear.’

Her excitement should have clued you in to how cringey the next one would be but you don’t realise it till after she deadpans, ‘I had a good pickup line ready to go, but you're so good looking I'm literally speechless.’

You burst out laughing and Lena does too. Actual tears are gathering in the corner of your eyes from how hard you are losing it.

It is at that moment that Laura appears beside you, irritation clearly written across her face.

‘Lau.’ You greet and are taken by surprise when she leans in.

Faster than you can react, she pulls you into a heated kiss. One that she dominates, leaving you entirely breathless when she draws back.

The blonde ignores the wide eyed look on the Wolfsburg player’s face, shortly stating, ‘Oberdorf, the only person allowed to use pick up lines on my girlfriend is me.’

Then she pulls you away from Obi, not loosening the grip she has on your hand until you are in the hotel room you both are sharing.

She stares at you then, with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It unnerves you if you are completely honest because she has never been unreadable to you. Not like she is now.

‘What's wrong schatz?’ You softly ask.

‘I don't like Lena trying her pick up lines on you.’

‘She didn’t mean anything by them, you know that she has a girlfriend. I agreed to listen to them in exchange for her sharing her snack with me.’ You explain.

Laura huffs, ‘I still don’t like it.’

‘Lau? Everyone here knows that I'm yours. That you are the one I am in love with.’

Your girlfriend mellows a little at your words.

Ever so gently, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and whisper, ‘I love you Laura. You know that.’

She sighs, shoulders slumping down, ‘I know you do. I love you too, which is why this is so hard.’

You frown in confusion and the Eintracht Frankfurt player fidgets with the rings on her fingers, almost as if she is embarrassed as she admits, ‘I just miss you so incredibly much. The past month has been more difficult than usual because the last time I was able to physically see you was at our last camp and that was cut short because I got injured. Now at this camp, I have barely been able to spend time with you.’

‘Oh.’ You breathe as you realise that there is a reason behind your favourite blonde’s sudden clinginess.

She hadn’t been exaggerating when she mentioned how much she missed you, earlier in the day and you mentally kick yourself for not seeing it sooner.

‘You've spent more time with Jule and Obi than me and that’s alright because I know you don’t see them all that often but I miss you. I really really miss you.’

Laura is on the verge of crying now, her bottom lip wobbling as she stands in front of you.

‘I'm sorry. I know the distance is hard but I'm here now okay?’

Slipping your arms around her waist, you draw your girlfriend close to you. The forward melts into your embrace immediately, her chin resting in your shoulder.

‘I shouldn't have gotten jealous. I'm sorry.’ She mumbles.

You hug her tighter.

‘Don’t apologise schatz.’

From the moment you and the blonde had started dating, the two of you have been aware of the challenges a long distance relationship would bring. What you hadn’t been aware of, prior to your conversation, was how much your girlfriend has been struggling with them.

After turning your head so that you can press an affectionate kiss against her neck, you say, ‘Summer break is coming soon and then it’ll be just you and me okay? We’ve got that trip to Mallorca planned and I am looking forward to spending every minute of it with you.’

‘That sounds like heaven.’ Laura whispers.

You hum in agreement and check your watch before adding, ‘Till then we have enough time to take a nap before our tactics meeting? I don’t know about you but all the media stuff has tired me out…’

Your girlfriend doesn’t need to be asked twice.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

#laura freigang #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #eintracht frankfurt frauen #dfb frauen #gerwnt #katelynnwrites

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spideyhexx · 1 day

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where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

#kk gn #my full on smut writing is rusty but #so maybe this isn’t as good as I can make it BUT BUT BUT #oh dear are we back!#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #tom blyth #william bonney #william h bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney smut

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megalony · 3 days

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What He Deserved

This is a new protective! Tommy Kinard imagine, based on a few requests I've gotten.

Thank you all for the lovely Tommy requests! I'm loving writing about the medal ceremony.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: Tommy brings his wife and newborn down to the 118 for their award ceremony. But when his old Captain starts making slurs and comments about his wife, Tommy loses his temper.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) tilted her head down and looked over the dress she was wearing. Her fingers danced across the soft fabric, smoothing out the few wrinkles that formed around her waist.

Her lips pressed together, smothering the small smile that tried to break out across her face, but her smile seemed to reach her eyes instead.

Pale blue had never really been (Y/n)'s colour, it didn't seem to stand out or match her very well. But she had to admit that this colour did look rather lovely on her today. Maybe it was because Tommy loved this colour. Or maybe it was because this colour was a close match to Tommy's eyes, one of the main reasons (Y/n) bothered to buy it in the first place.

The dress was comfy; often most of the dresses she used to wear looked lovely, but they were uncomfortable. The necklines were too low, they didn't come up high enough to cover her bra at the back. The underlining was scratchy and itched her thighs or the dress itself was pulled tight at the waist and made her feel like she couldn't breathe.

This one was different. It had a circular neckline that was very stretchy and easy to to pull up or down. The back was almost as high as her shoulderblades, meaning the nursing bra she wore was easily hidden and (Y/n) could stay comfortable. And there was no underlining that itched or scratched or puffed out around her.

(Y/n) bit down on her bottom lip and moved her hands up to her hair, fiddling with the style once again even though nothing was wrong with it.

She couldn't help but look down at her frame once again as a quiet sigh passed her lips.

She had more curves now than she used to. Before she had Minnie, (Y/n) had never been skinny, but she had been okay with the curves and the shape of her body. Gaining weight during her pregnancy had been fine, it was normal and (Y/n) didn't feel self conscious because she had a reason. She had had a baby. But now, Minnie was here and it was almost like (Y/n) didn't have a reason to be this shape now.

She didn't have a bump to caress or stretch her shirts over- mostly Tommy's shirts since she had lived in his clothes during the last four months of her pregnancy. But she had a lot of baby weight now.

(Y/n) knew it wouldn't disappear as soon as she had Minnie, she knew it would take time. But that also meant it was going to take time to get used to her new shape and become comfortable in her new skin.

She was brought out of her thoughts when a set of large hands curled over her hips and a chin perched on top of her head.

"Do I look okay?" Her voice was quieter and meeker than normal, giving away the panic that was fluttering inside her chest with horrid bouts of adrenaline.

She looked up in the mirror, observing Tommy's expression that seemed to soften like melted butter. His cheeks puffed up showing a dimple on the left cheek and small crows feet creased around his eyes that locked with hers in their reflection.

She could feel his thumbs smoothing up and down over her hips and he turned his chin down so he could press a soft kiss into her hair. There was no need to ask Tommy that question because they both knew what the answer was going to be, but she felt like asking him anyway.

This was going to be the first time (Y/n) would be out around Tommy's friends and colleagues since she'd given birth to Minnie two weeks ago. (Y/n) wanted to look good and feel confident in herself and her newly shaped body, but she didn't quite know how to do that yet.

"You. Look. Stunning." Each word was punctuated with a kiss against her head that was careful not to ruin her hairstyle. And his voice was rugged and low like he was having a hard time staring at her and controlling himself at the same time.

(Y/n) smiled, but when their intense stare broke off, she found herself looking over the dress again. And her hands moved to slide up and down her stomach and around her curves that she still couldn't get used to.

Her absentminded movements halted when Tommy held her wrists and dropped her hands down so he could continue the movements himself. His fingertips tickled as they dragged up and down her stomach and crossed the dips in her waist like he wanted to commit each of them to memory. And he was smiling as he did it.

He was looking down at her like each curve made him happy and just the thought sent (Y/n)'s heart jumping over a beat like a record player jumping a vinyl.

"What, you don't believe me?" His voice was quieter this time and he went back to propping his chin up on her head. While his hands finally stopped roaming her body so he could bind his arms around her middle and give her a tight squeeze.

"You're a bit biased, sweetheart." She was joking. Her tone was light and her smile told him she was only teasing, but there was truth to her words.

Tommy was always going to be biased because she was his wife. He would stand there and tell her he thought she was the most exquisite woman he'd ever seen and in his mind, he was right. But that was only his view because he loved her.

And (Y/n) was glad Tommy thought she looked lovely, but it wouldn't be just him there at the ceremony today. All of his friends and close colleagues would be there and (Y/n) didn't want any of them to look at her and think she looked awful or chubby or odd.

"Maybe, but I'd never lie to you, and I think you look better than ever."

He thought she looked beautiful.

It had been no secret to anyone that Tommy could barely keep his hands off of her when she was pregnant. He was always attached to her, kissing her or holding her or carressing her stomach. He loved the way her body changed and it was no different now that she'd had Minnie.

They had gone out a few days ago, the first time (Y/n) had properly left the house since coming home with Minnie, because (Y/n) had to get some new clothes.

She couldn't continue living in her maternity clothes. Some of the leggings weren't so bad, but the tops were too baggy and didn't fit now her stomach had deflated into a strange shape and her curves were softer. And all her maternity dresses or jumpsuits didn't sit well on her anymore and made her look a very odd shape. Baggy maternity clothes were not flattering in the least.

Wearing Tommy's clothes was fine for around the house or the occasional button up shirt when they went out. But (Y/n) needed clothes of her own to make herself feel and look a bit more normal, and she couldn't fit into any of her old clothes.

So while the maternity clothes had been bagged and hidden at the back of the wardobe- just in case there was a next time that she would need them again- they had gone out for new clothes.

It had been Tommy's idea, he knew (Y/n) didn't look happy when she tried to find something to wear since coming home with Minnie.

And while they had been out, every top, dress and shirt (Y/n) tried on, Tommy agreed to. She saw his eyes crease and light up and he smiled at everything she picked out and seeing her look happy and more comfortable was all Tommy wanted.

"Thank you," (Y/n) gave his wrists a squeeze and turned her head so she could press her lips to his neck.

She missed his touch when he finally unravelled from her and turned around, but he didn't wander far. (Y/n) smoothed out another imaginary wrinkle in her dress before she turned on her heels, her eyes following Tommy as he moved over to the crib in the corner of the room beneath the window.

He grinned, flashing his teeth and shaking his head when he reached down and scooped up his little girl. She barely fit in the crook of his arm and she always looked like a miniature doll whenever Tommy held her and the sight made (Y/n) smile.

"Hi baby, are you gonna come and meet daddy's team, hm?" He gently settled Minnie down against his shoulder, letting her face nuzzle into his blazer right across the LAFD logo on his chest.

His hand cradled the back of her head and his fingertips feathered across her soft skin. When he turned round, his smile softened again when his eyes landed on (Y/n) and he walked over to her, murmuring a quiet "Ready?" to which she nodded.

This would be Tommy's first medal since joining the LAFD.

***

"Sweetheart, I don't think they'll let you take her up there with you, you know." (Y/n) pressed her lips together to dampen down her smile as she looked up at her husband with fondness pooling in her eyes. She didn't miss the shiver that rolled through Tommy's spine when that petname rolled off the tongue.

Something so simple as 'sweetheart' had the ability to make the tall, hulk of a man in front of her swoon and melt into a puddle.

He had barely set Minnie down since they arrived at the station and the ceremony was about to begin.

As settled as Minnie seemed to be in Tommy's arms, (Y/n) doubted Chief Simpson would be very pleased if Tommy was stood up there holding his newborn during the awards.

Tommy let out a quiet displeased huff but he nodded. He knew he had to leave his girls now and go stand up on stage, something he wasn't so keen on doing but he didn't have a choice.

He pressed a lasting, tender kiss against Minnie's temple and gently unhooked her hand from his index finger that she had been happily clinging to for the last five minutes. He leaned forward and eased her down into (Y/n)'s arms while his hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s hips instead.

She settled Minnie in her arm, trying to keep her tilted at the same angle Tommy had her so she wouldn't wake up and start to fuss. If she could sleep through the speeches and the medals, then she could wake up when the hustle and bustle started. (Y/n) wanted to watch and get a picture of Tommy up there, she didn't want to have to make a quick exit to settle Minnie if she woke up and started to cry.

"Off I go," Tommy murmured quietly, moving his hand to tilt (Y/n) chin up in his direction so he could steal a kiss that ended with his tongue slipping past her lips.

(Y/n) watched him follow after Buck and Chimney towards the stage, towering over the others like a skyscraper in comparison. She knew Tommy was happy to be the tallest because it gave him an excuse to stand out the way at the back and feign it was to let his colleagues see and not overshadow them. When really, it was so he didn't have to bask in the spotlight any longer than necessary.

Her head turned to the right and she took a deep breath, looking over the round tables scattered all through the station floor.

The ambulance and both trucks had been parked round the back so there was enough space for a party in here. And two other nearby stations were on standby so all calls could be redirected to them. Allowing the 118 to have the whole day off to celebrate without the risk of a callout getting in the way and disrupting everything.

Her eyes locked on Maddie sat on her own with her daughter and (Y/n) decided it would be a good idea to see if she could sit with them.

"Is this seat free?"

"Yeah, please," Maddie waved her hand towards the seat as if it was on fire and her smile calmed down one of the many nerves rattling through (Y/n)'s system.

She pulled out the chair and eased down next to Maddie, smiling softly at the four year old on Maddie's other side. She had a juice bottle between her hands and a sweet smile on her lips that made (Y/n) sure that she was a very cheeky toddler.

"Oh, she's adorable." Maddie's lower lip pouted and she placed a hand over her heart, leaning close to get a look at Minnie.

Since Tommy reconnected with the 118, he had introduced (Y/n) to them a few months ago and she had bonded with Maddie the most. The four of them had gone out quite a few times for quiz nights or just out for drinks- all non-alcoholic since (Y/n) had been expecting Minnie at the time.

This was the first time any of the team would see Minnie. They all knew she had been born, Tommy had messaged them and posted a few pictures. They got a lot of well-wishes from all the team, but they had mostly stayed home for the first two weeks to get used to new routines with their little girl.

"How are you doing now? Tommy mentioned you're feeling a lot better." She brushed her finger across Minnie's chubby cheek, darting her eyes between (Y/n) and the newborn with a tender yet knowing look in her eyes.

She and Chimney had seen first-hand how ill (Y/n) had been when she was pregnant.

At the start of her pregnancy, (Y/n) had been in and out of hospital with severe morning sickness. Tommy had come off a twelve hour night shift and then spent the next twenty four hours in hospital after he came home and found (Y/n) passed out in the bathroom, dehydrated after throwing up everything she had in her.

It took a while for the morning sickness to taper off, but (Y/n) had developed a type of gestational diabetes during the pregnancy too which ended with almost daily insulin injections.

Needless to say, it hadn't been easy having Minnie. Topped off with the way her body changed, (Y/n) had found it hard. But she knew she was lucky to be feeling well right now and that her insulin and glucose levels evened themselves out now she wasn't pregnant anymore. Some women developed diabetes after having it during pregnancy, (Y/n) was very thankful she didn't have that problem.

"Much better, thank you."

"And you look lovely, by the way. I love the dress." Maddie took a sip of her drink and reclined in her seat while she looked up and down the dress approvingly. The colour was lovely and it stood out well with Tommy's jet black suit. They would of looked a little too dark if (Y/n) wore a black or a navy blue dress today. The contrast was good.

A jolt surged through (Y/n)'s heart and her breathing quickened as she tilted her head down, looking across at her friend through her lashes.

"Really?" The surprise was evident in her voice and it intrigued Maddie. "I uh, it's new. I don't really fit in any of my old clothes anymore."

Saying that while she was pregnant felt good, it felt like an achievement because it was natural. (Y/n) had been happy to put on weight and look different and have a bump to show that she was having a family and Tommy loved her enough to settle down with her.

Now it felt strange like she wasn't doing something right when she thought about fitting back into her old clothes. But her heart had soared when she had made a passing comment last week to Tommy about her clothes not fitting. He had such a wide grin when he simply responded 'good' and kissed her like he had a fever.

"Oh, tell me about it. I still don't wear most of the stuff I owned before I had Jee."

"You don't?"

"No, I lost a bit of weight after having her but, I don't know, I like the way I look now. Sometimes the extra weight looks good… it works for you too." She whispered the last part, nudging their elbows together as a loving smile flooded her face.

Maybe there wasn't such a rush to try and get back to the way she was before. And she didn't have to, there was no deadline or no reason why she should, she'd had a baby and this was what she had to show for that.

She didn't realise she was smiling until her cheeks began to hurt and she lifted her head to look over at the stage.

There was her husband. Stood at the back on the far right, his hands clasped together in front of him with his back tensed up straight and his broad shoulders stretched out like they were balancing spirit levels on them. His nose crinkled and his lips rolled together as he tried not to laugh out loud at something Buck whispered to him. And the look made (Y/n)'s heart swell.

He looked so happy, so natural and composed and proud and strong up there and (Y/n) just knew in a day or two, she would be scouting through the official site and a few online apps to find the pictures that would be uploaded of today. She wanted all the pictures of Tommy that she could get, especially the ones that the photographer took when none of the team were looking or posing. When they looked happy and natural and soft together.

(Y/n) leaned down to kiss the top of Minnie's head and slowly started to sway from side to side, but her eyes remained focused on the stage.

And she could see the blush creeping onto Tommy's face when it was his turn to be awarded with his medal and plaque. His smile reached his eyes and his blush tainted his nose, cheeks and slithered down his neck beneath his collar.

She could see his hands fidgeting in front of his lap, scratching together to remain calm and composed until he could move to the back of the stage again and blend into the background. Not that he could ever blend in when in (Y/n)'s eyes, he always stood out.

As soon as the clapping started and everyone began to move, (Y/n) felt Minnie liven up in her arms.

She carefully lifted Minnie up and settled her on her chest, smoothing her hand up and down her back slowly to try and keep her calm and settled. She could feel Maddie reaching out to rub Minnie's cheek, quietly cooing at her as everyone finally left the stage and started to filter around the room again.

Tommy's hand found her shoulder and his other hand gently cupped the back of Minnie's head. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to (Y/n)'s head as he stood behind her chair and felt her lean her head against his torso.

"Looks good on you," (Y/n) whispered, reaching one hand up to tap her fingertip against the medal hanging around his neck. She wondered how long it would take before Tommy whipped the medal off and hid it in (Y/n)'s bag. She already knew he would leave it up to her to find a place for it somewhere at home.

"Hm, does it really?" His hand stayed on her shoulder as he leaned down to meet her halfway in a kiss. Before he slid his other hand down from cradling Minnie's head to slither his hand along (Y/n)'s waist and give her hip a squeeze.

They broke apart when Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder and he leaned up just as Eddie moved round.

He stood between (Y/n) and Maddie and crouched down until he was level with the newborn in her arms. A wide smile creased his eyes and he reached out to nudge her cheek.

"Hi cutie… can I?"

"Sure." (Y/n) gently eased Minnie over into Eddie's arms who stood back up to his full height once she was in his arms. As soon as he was up, Eddie was swaying from left to right, bouncing her up and down against his chest, his eyes enamoured by her like she was the brightest star in the sky.

(Y/n) was sure she heard her husband mutter a quiet "Be careful," although she wasn't certain whether it was in jest or if he was being serious. But she smiled and reached up to hold Tommy's arm when he went back to holding her shoulders and leaned down to be level with her.

"Want something to eat?" He murmured against the shell of her ear, leaving a few kisses against the side of her neck until she was shivering and gripping his arm tighter.

"Sure."

With another lasting kiss to her lips, Tommy followed after Chimney and Buck towards the buffet table. All three of them were famished and Tommy would bet that they had skipped breakfast the same as he had, too consumed with nerves and worries about today to eat until now.

(Y/n) let her eyes follow the boys as they headed off to the table and she couldn't help but gaze at Tommy. He towered over Chimney and stood just a few inches taller than Buck, with wider shoulders and a large tense back. He looked like a beast in and out of his uniform.

Her head tilted back to look up at Eddie when Minnie started to mewl and cry into his shoulder.

He tried to soothe her and hush but her eyes screwed shut and her legs began to tap against his chest like she was trying to run mid-air.

"I think she needs feeding, give me one second." She pushed up from the chair, smoothing down the imaginary wrinkles in her dress as she headed off near the locker room.

Her head dipped down and her hands itched at her sides as she reached the pram and unhooked the Disney bag from the handle.

She had tried to time Minnie's feed so she wouldn't need to leave during the middle of the ceremony but now was a good time because she would settle for another nap after this. With the bag on her shoulder, (Y/n) headed back over to the table and smiled when Eddie carefully eased Minnie back into her arms.

"She's such a sweetheart, I'm sure Chris will wander over to see her in a bit." Eddie gave the girls a lasting smile before he headed back towards Chris to see if he wanted to go and get some food before Buck and Ravi ate it all.

The newborn continued to whine and wriggle, but her cries softened just a little now that she was back in her mother's arms.

(Y/n) cradled her in one arm while she set the bag down on the spare chair next to her and rummaged through for a blanket while she sat down.

She could see Maddie and Jee over at the buffet table while Buck, Tommy and Chimney were stood just a few feet from the table. All three of them were joking and laughing about something and it was lovely to see Tommy relaxing and letting his guard down for a change.

Their eyes locked for a second and (Y/n) saw his lips curve into a wider smile and he winked in her direction. He looked very laid back for a change. Whenever he had his work suit on, it was for a formal occasion and Tommy always felt out of place or uneasy or as if he should be professional.

But right now, stood with one hip slouched down, one hand holding a paper plate for them to share and his other hand tucked into his pocket, he looked casual. He looked relaxed and happy and his head tilted back to let out a laugh when Buck seemingly quipped a joke.

"Okay baby, shh." Her lips pressed to the top of Minnie's head, her nose tickling and scrunching up against the small wisps of hair.

She kept her settled in one arm while she tried to drape the blushing pink blanket over her shoulder and down her chest. The last thing she wanted was anyone looking at her if she was going to breastfeed Minnie.

Not that anyone was paying any attention. She was sat alone at the table at the moment and the table was in the left corner of the station, as close to the stage as possible but now no one was focused on the stage.

The only person who would pay her any attention was Tommy and that was for a whole other reason.

She gently shifted Minnie up in her arm and adjusted the blanket over her, but before she even had chance to try and fiddle with the strap on her dress, she paused.

Someone was staring at her, and it wasn't Tommy.

(Y/n) didn't recognise him. He was an older gentleman, a bit shorter than Buck with a cap tucked under one arm and a few pins on his blazer, giving away that he was a Captain of one of the fire houses. (Y/n) only knew a few people from the 118 and the people from Tommy's station, the 227 and not many of them were here. She didn't know anyone else and she didn't know the Captain who was currently staring her down.

The look in his eyes was frightening, it was as if he was scrutinising her, looking her up and down to try and evaluate her for something. His upper lip was pushed out, hidden mostly by a thick grey moustache and his chin was jutting forward in a commanding sort of way.

His eyes raked up and down (Y/n)'s body with one brow raised and she couldn't find it in herself to look down or shift or move an inch.

All she could do was look towards Tommy, desperately wanting him to tilt his head in her direction and catch her eye to see that she was panicking.

"You're really gonna do that here?"

His words took her by surprise and (Y/n) stayed frozen to the spot while Minnie wriggled in her arm and batted her hand against her chest as if trying to grab her attention. Small whines vibrated into (Y/n)'s chest as the newborn continued to whimper and kick around beneath the blanket.

"I'm sorry?" She wanted her words to come out condescending but her voice only came out in a small flurry of panic.

What was she doing wrong?

She wasn't stood in the middle of the station or trying to catch anyone's attention or cause a scene. All she was trying to do was feed her daughter. It was natural. She was at a table in the corner and she was sat on her own, she wasn't sat with the Chief or any other Captains or photographers or important people.

She would be sat with friends once Maddie came back and then Tommy would sit with her, she doubted anyone else would be at their table, maybe Buck but that was it.

None of them would have a problem with her breastfeeding and if they did, (Y/n) would move.

But she was sat with a blanket over her chest. No one was going to see anything they shouldn't, she was still decent and covered up.

"You're gonna show 'em off to the whole station?" He spoke with a small huff and his lips formed into a smirk that made a cold shiver run down (Y/n)'s spine. He talked as if (Y/n) was getting ready to some sort of strip tease in the middle of the station or up on stage.

All she was doing was trying to feed her daughter. It was bad enough that (Y/n) worried about how she looked in this dress and how her body looked now she'd had Minnie. Without this Captain, whoever he was, standing there insulting her and making jibes at her because he thought he had the right to make her feel self-conscious.

"No. I- should you really be stood watching me?" She tried to muster up some of Tommy's courage and boisterous attitude, but the man only laughed.

A cringe tore through her body as she held Minnie tighter and leaned her head to the left.

Relief pooled in her stomach that was bubbling and overchurning with adrenaline when she caught sight of Tommy. But the adrenaline got worse when she looked over her husband.

He was red in the face.

His hand was crumpling up the paper plate until the food was about to spill over the edges. His lips were tense and taut and his jaw was ground so tight it looked like it was going to pop. There was utter outrage bubbling up in his eyes that had gone from pale blue to jet black in less than a minute.

He heard. Tommy had heard what this stranger had said, and he was not pleased.

(Y/n) was both relieved and panicked when she watched her husband almost throw his plate at Buck before he stormed their way. But he wasn't quick enough before the Captain started to speak again.

"Thought it was a free show, sweetheart. After all, you're sat out in the open, about to show us all a good view, so carry on." His hand moved to dart across his chin and the way he licked his lips had (Y/n) shivering and shrinking back in her seat. "Does Kinard know you go round flashing all his mates?"

She could of screamed when he took a step closer, slanting his right hip against the vacant chair next to (Y/n) like he was about to sit down next to her.

Whipping the blanket from her shoulder, (Y/n) tossed it down on her bag and got up from her seat. She wasn't going to sit here and be insulted any longer and she was too uncomfortable to stay here. She wanted to be with Tommy and disappear into a quiet corner.

Her hands adjusted Minnie so she was settled in the middle of her chest and she cradled the back of her head while she weaved around the seats. There wasn't a lot of space between whoever this Captain was and the wall, but (Y/n) pressed as close to the wall as she could to get past him.

"What the Hell did you just say to my wife?!" Tommy's voice growled through the air and caught the attention of everyone nearby.

Suddenly, the music sounded quieter in the background and all the other conversations died down as all eyes landed on Tommy. Both Chimney and Buck moved to put their plates down and hurry after him. They had never seen Tommy lose his very level temper or run out of patience and they didn't want him to start a fight. They knew who Gerrard was and he wasn't worth the effort.

A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she jolted forward when she felt the Captain's hand hook under the strap on her dress. The strap was slightly down her arm since she had been about to feed Minnie, but she felt him try and pull the material either to look down at her cleavage or just to lower it down and tease her.

Tommy was usually the epitome of calm and composed, he never spoke out of turn or caused a scene, and he had never stood up to Gerrard when they both worked in this station. But the fire in his eyes showed he had well and truly lose that composure.

For a brief second, (Y/n) felt Tommy's hand on her hip as she moved to stand behind him. She felt him squeeze her hip and move to block her from view and it made her feel safe.

Right until Tommy lunged forward and landed his fist into the Captain's face.

Blood spurted down Gerrard's face, tainting his moustache and pouring down his lips towards his chin like a free flowing river. Both his hands moved to cradle his nose that might well be broken and he groaned through a splutter of blood. His balance swayed as he wobbled to the left but he didn't stay unbalanced for long when Tommy's hands latched around the collar of his blazer.

He yanked his old Captain forward, lifting him up on the toes of his boots to keep them level. Fire blazed in Tommy's eyes and his lips formed into a snarl as he debated whether to smash his forehead into his old Captain or send a punch into his gut and knock him to the floor.

"Tommy…" (Y/n) shivered, tucking her face up against the top of Minnie's head who was shrieking into her chest at all the sudden commotion.

She felt a hesitant pair of hands on her arms and whipped her head round to see Chimney stood beside her. He tried to smile and dipped his head to the side towards Maddie who had Jee in one arm and her other hand held out towards (Y/n), beckoning her away from the fight.

She took a few steps towards Maddie but stayed relatively close, she didn't want to be far from Tommy and she needed to get him to stop before he got himself reprimanded.

"Tommy- hey, hey that's enough." Buck hurried forward and grabbed Tommy by the shoulders, but his friend was strong enough to hold steadfast like a mountain, unable to be moved.

Even when Eddie surged forward and tried to get between them, Tommy just elbowed him out the way and twisted Gerrard to the left so he could pin him up against the wall.

"Jesus Kinard," Gerrard grumbled, unsure whether to cradle his broken nose or push the younger man off him. "Take it easy-"

"Take it easy? After what you just said to my wife? You're lucky I haven't pasted your blood across the walls for that." Venom seethed into his words as he suddenly wished they were in a corridor or in the locker room or somewhere more private so he could win this fight without an audience.

But the moment he heard the word 'flasher' pass Gerrard's lips, nothing else mattered. He couldn't concentrate on Eddie trying to worm in between him and Gerrard or feel Buck pulling his shoulders to try and drag him backwards. He didn't even hear Bobby shouting at them to stop.

He brought his knee up, ramming it into Gerrard's groin before anyone could stop him. The Captain crumpled down with a groan that ended in a spluttering cough and Tommy finally let the team pull him five steps backwards so he could watch Gerrard fall to his knees.

"Enough!"

"He just intimidated and tried to touch up my wife!" Tommy's chest heaved like he had run a marathon and his hands balled into fists.

He was about to lunge forward again but Eddie anticipated the move and stood in front of him. He pushed against Tommy's chest, trying to keep him at bay while Bobby grabbed his shoulder to try and get his attention and calm him down.

"And Chief Simpson is gonna have a talk with him in my office, you have my word, Tommy. Now go cool off and look after your wife."

Bobby had heard all the stories about Gerrard when he used to be in charge of this station. He knew about the reports people put in, how horrid he had been to Chimney and Hen and how intimidating he had been towards Tommy in the past. And although he didn't hear what Gerrard had said tonight, he could see that both Tommy and Buck, possible even Chimney, had heard.

And then there was (Y/n), an impartial witness. Gerrard wasn't going to get away with what he'd said and the Chief was more than ready to have a private word with Bobby and Gerrard and reprimand him for this.

He had gotten a broken nose and a bruised ego from Tommy and that was just the start, he hadn't even had words with the Chief yet.

He got what he deserved.

Tommy shook and rolled his shoulders, cracking his spine into place while Bobby moved ahead of him to heave Gerrard to his feet. When Eddie patted his chest and gave him a polite nudge, Tommy nodded and turned towards (Y/n).

Before he had chance to open his arms, (Y/n) was already smothering herself into his chest. Her face buried in his chest, her nose brushing against the red ribbon his medal was hanging from and he could feel Minnie wriggling and whimpering between them. The newborn was upset, hungry and frightened and part of Tommy felt bad. He had started the fight and worried both his girls, but he couldn't have done anything else.

He couldn't help it. He never wanted Gerrard near (Y/n) in the first place. He had been glad that he met her just after he moved stations so he never had to introduce her and he only spoke about Gerrard in quick passing.

Somehow, Tommy didn't think his old Captain would be here today and he was beyond angry that he had turned up and decided to intimidate (Y/n) like that. He had done it because he knew she was Tommy's wife. That was the only reason he spoke to her.

"Come on." He murmured against the top of her head as he curved both arms around her and kept her close.

He began walking forward, guiding (Y/n) backwards until she turned to shuffle under his left arm so she didn't have to back track. Her eyes remained closed and Tommy's arms stayed around her as he headed towards the locker room. The only room that was vacant and out the way of the rest of the party that was slowly filling up with murmurs and questions and strange atmospheres.

Once the door shut behind them, Tommy moved over towards the lockers. He leaned his shoulders back up against them, slouched down and spread his legs so (Y/n) could stand between them.

"Are you okay?" He spoke against her hair, keeping his right arm curved around her waist while his other hand cupped the side of her face and tilted her head back so he could look down at her.

"Hm. I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You didn't do anything, honey. Gerrard should have kept his fucking mouth closed and kept away."

Confusion and realisation washed over (Y/n)'s face all in one and she tried to look over her shoulder towards the party but she couldn't see any of the team anymore. Everyone was fluttering about and moving back towards the buffet and trying to have a dance and regain a light atmosphere again.

"That was Gerrard?" Now she knew why he had approached her and why he seemed keen to talk to her. He knew she was Tommy's wife; that was his motivation for speaking to her.

"Yeah. I hope he gets fired for this."

"Will you get in trouble?"

"Doubt it, Buck and Howie heard what he was saying to you, plus I'm off duty." If Tommy was on shift this would be a different matter entirely, but they couldn't suspend him or fire him or get him into a lot of trouble when he wasn't at work.

He pressed a longing kiss to her temple before he pushed forward and moved towards the bench. Tommy sat as far back on the bench as he could and spread his legs, grinning softly when (Y/n) smiled and took the hint, sitting between his thighs.

She felt his knees press into hers and his chest moulded around her back while his arms looped around her waist so his hands could spread out across her abdomen. The feeling of Tommy's chin on her shoulder made her shiver but in a good way and a warm, fuzzy feeling flooded her stomach when he kissed the side of her neck.

"I still need to feed her," (Y/n) whispered, although they were the only people in here and no one else in the party would be able to hear or see them. They were sat with their backs facing the glass wall and Tommy's frame moulded around her like a blanket. He was hiding her from any onlookers.

"Go ahead, honey." He murmured against her neck, taking the time to trail his fingertips up her waist causing her to shiver and shimmy in front of him. "No one can see or get past me."

His fingertips wormed up her side and his index and middle finger hooked around the strap on her shoulder. Slowly sliding it down her arm while his lips pressed wet, hot kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. He cradled the back of Minnie's head when (Y/n) settled her in place and his other arm tightened around (Y/n)'s waist, brushing his fingertips up and down her abdomen.

No one would be able to see them from here, all they would see was Tommy's back and the way he was slightly hunched forward. He completely blocked (Y/n) from view and if anyone tried to come in here, he would usher them away from his girls.

As far as Gerrard was concerned, Tommy hoped he would get fired or at least demoted for this.

(Y/n) prayed Tommy wouldn't get told off for what he'd done to Gerrard. Her man had gotten his medal today and his former Captain had gotten a broken nose.

They both got what they deserved.

#911 imagine #imagine #tommy x reader #tommy kinard #tommy kinard imagine #tommy kinard 911 #tommy kinard x reader #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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