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haruchuiyo · 2 months

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fulfilling first times

taking your relationship slow seem to have grew your urges, but will your boyfriend who’s respected your wishes, wanna help your urges out?

content: not sfw, minors dni, fem!reader + first time + dry humping + no protection + nïpple play + loads of kisses + bonten!rindou + consent is sexy asf

link to request

—

You walk behind Rindou while holding his hand when you see his older brother on the couch. Shyly waving to Ran, you managed to catch him waving back with the soda can in his hand before you got pulled inside Rindou’s bedroom.

“Here’s my room.” He begins and walks to his closet to bring out a pair of basketball shorts and hands it to you. “Change into these while I go get the drinks, okay?” He gently strokes your cheek as you smile at him for remembering that you told him your jeans were feeling too stuffy. “Thank you and okay.” You say and Rindou grins at you. Then you do something so unexpected that makes Rindou widen his eyes in surprise. You stand on your toes to reach his height and give him a peck on the lips before pulling away. Your eyes widened in surprise as well. And it was Rindou who got out of the trance first, telling you he will be back with the drinks and then closes the door leaving you alone in his room.

That was the first time you ever kissed Rindou.

There hasn't been a proper kiss, your lips on each other or any other sort of kiss until now since you two started dating. You’ve told Rindou you wanted to take it slow and he being him, thankfully, respected your wishes and so forth, he hasn’t touched you intimately at all. Aside from all the hand holds, cuddling together or hugs, no touches unless you initiate it first. You’d be lying to say you weren’t surprised at his actions. Being a part of one of Japan’s biggest crime syndicates, Rindou can get what he wants by just ordering someone or by the sight of his Bonten tattoo on his neck. You’d also be lying to say you didn’t get those urges either. But it is nerve wracking to initiate intimately first.

You were sitting on his bed fiddling with your sweaty hands after changing into the shorts you were given, when the man who gave you them entered the room. He has two glasses in his hand and a bottle in the other. He sees the neatly folded jeans at the edge of his bed and smiles lightly.

“It’s grape soda, your favorite.” Rindou says as he closes the door and you smile at him. “A water would be enough really.” You say and Rindou scoffs lightly. “There’s no need to be polite, baby, I know you’d prefer grape soda over water.” And your body heats up at his awareness of your actions. He places the drink and glasses on his table before going over to you.

“Fine.” You lastly say and Rindou laughs. Then he quietens down as he sits beside you, which makes you nervous. You know what he’s about to talk about.

“That kiss.” He starts on gently, holding your hand and placing it on his thighs and you look at it instead of his face. The way he’s sitting on the bed beside you, with those thighs of his, you gulp down on air and beg whoever 's listening to let you out of this situation. But you can’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to feel those thighs between your own, pressing against your heat. Your body heats up even more at that thought.

“Was it bad?” You remember to ask and Rindou chuckles. “If something, I want more of it.” His voice was deep and honest, you look up at him at those words. Heartbeats increase its pace and you see Rindou slowly lean his head in.

“If it’s okay with you.” He softly adds on and you give a slight nod, which he smiles a little at. “Can I kiss on your lips?” His question was to see your reaction, to test if you’d really be okay with it. And you almost wanted to just crush your lips against his pouty ones, because he’s just so kind and thoughtful. But also he was being frustrating, you’re not a frail thing that constantly needs reassurance.

“Yes.” You breathe out and Rindou takes that as a cue to press his lips against yours. He gently holds your neck and you fist your hands on his bedsheets, softly gasping as he moves his lips against your inexperienced ones.

You didn’t know what to do, there were teeth clashing against each other and then he did that thing. That thing where he nips on your lower lip, a sound you’d never thought would come out of you, gets out and you hear a small groan from Rindou. His hold on your neck tightens as he pulls you in closer and deepens the kiss. Your grasp on the bed sheets is tightening as you kiss him just as much back.

He continues to suck and nip on your lips before pulling away, leaving both of you breathless. Your lips parted and all you can think of is that you want more of his breathless dreamy kisses and more, but how do you tell him you want more? But all you do is stare at his wet parted lips.

“Breathe baby — yes, there you go.” He tells you and something grows inside you at his words. At his light praises, his endearment toward you and how he’s so…gentle. You want Rindou Haitani so bad, you're gathering courage to ask him to take it further with you.

You pull your hands from the bedsheets to hold him by his shirt on his lap. Rindou’s eyes slightly widen in surprise before he trails his own hands down to your hips.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod, then hum in content when you feel him lightly rub your hips through your own clothing. Then you lean your head in, to do what he did for you. To nip and suck on his lower lip. You weren’t as good as him but by the way he was letting out soft sounds, you did it right at least.

“I want more.” You mumble against his mouth and Rindou smiles against your lips before he takes you for another breathless kiss. This time as the kiss deepens, his grip on your hips tightens and when you feel his tongue rub against yours, you let out a slight gasp and when he rolls it against yours, a moan slips past into the kiss. That’s when you feel Rindou pull you up onto his lap and you let out a shuddering breath when you feel something poke you from below. When he pulls away, you whine softly at the loss of contact before he holds your face, making you look at him.

“Do you trust me?” He asks and you pout. “Of course I do. You know that.” You look so cute like this, Rindou could kiss you for all eternity.

“Just wanted to make sure, baby. So this —“ he cuts himself off and what he does right now, a choked gasp falls down from your lips. He pushed you gently on your back, got inbetween your thighs and just rolled his hips against yours. “—doesn’t surprise you.” he finishes his sentence with a strained voice. You could feel him through the shorts you were wearing. His apparent bulge that you could feel through his black sweats was rubbing against your clothed heat and you thanked the heavens that what you wore were of thin material.

“Again.” You mumble while taking his lips into a kiss, you feel him smile into the kiss. And he does as you say and both of you moan into the kiss at the friction of your hips rolling against each other. You’re starting to get the gist of how to kiss and you trail your hands up to hold onto his hair. That’s when Rindou rolls his hips against yours even harder.

The way he’s settled against you between his thigh, the way he’s rolling his hips against yours making you feel what you’ve never felt before. It felt euphoric.

You tried to arch up against him but it was to no avail, his weight pressed against you and you whimpered in frustration. Rindou only held your face, deeply kissing you, muttering words of ‘it’s okay baby, I make it better’ against your mouth. You could only obey and listen to what he says. And believe him. But you need more. So when you reach a hand down between your bodies, slipping inside his sweats, your wrist is grasped by a larger hand. Whimpering against his mouth before pulling away, you were about to speak out, Rindou beat you to it.

“A little worked up, baby?” At his obvious question, you roll your eyes then pout while nodding your head. “You know, I'm fine with just doing this and kissing.” He tells you and because of his words, you felt like tears welled up in your eyes.

“And if I don't want to just do this and kiss?” You retort back softly and Rindou sighs a little, adjusting his position between your thighs, which leads to more friction up against your clothed heat and a slight moan escapes your mouth and Rindou can’t help but smile at your reaction. He takes pride in himself for making you feel good, but he won’t be able to do so if you’re saying you want to take it further just to please him, but not yourself. Rindou gently holds your face in his hands, almost pressing down his body weight on you as he brushes his nose against yours. You don’t hate it, in fact you squeeze your thighs around his waist tighter.

“I don't want you to feel like you're being rushed into doing things with me, baby.” He confesses softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smile slightly as he places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away.

“I’m not feeling rushed into doing anything with you, you’ve been patient and kind with me.” You tell him as you fiddle with his shirt, thinking internally how much you wish to unbutton him right now and have him take you as he pleases. Right now, it feels like you’re the one rushing Rindou into doing this with you.

“Do you truly feel okay with me doing —“ he cuts himself off as he releases his hold on your face to cup your breasts over your shirt. You lightly gasp as he squeezes. “—this?” His voice was low and careful, gauging your reaction. You furrow your brows at him.

“I’d love it even more if you put your hands all over me.” You sound desperate and needy, but what can you do when you have a boyfriend like Rindou Haitani.

Rindou is quiet for a few seconds before he tugs on your shirt. “Off.” He simply says and you pull your hands up as he takes the shirt off your body and freezes when he realizes you’re not wearing any bra. Then a chuckle leaves his mouth as he traces your breasts with his fingers, making you slightly arch your back at his touch. You grip onto his shoulders when he circles your nipples with the same finger.

Then he reaches down between you two, backing away from you while tugging down the shorts you’re wearing. Internally groaning when he sees you wear some cute underwear.

“How do you not wear a bra but can put on some damn panties.” Rindou mutters which makes you giggle at his reaction. But you stop when he takes off his own shirt and sweats, leaving him only in his underwear as well. Rindou has a pretty chest, refined abs and with his bare body, you look down and see a little happy trail and you curl your fingers down on the sheets. You glance up at his neck and see how the tattoo seems to be standing out more than usual.

You reach your hands out to him and he subconsciously leans down as if it was a bodily reflex. You touch his tattoo before holding onto his neck and press a kiss down onto it. Rindou moans softly when he feels you nip on the skin his tattoo is placed on.

He trails his hands down to your waist and rolls his hips against you, pushing his bulge against your heat and you moan against his neck. He pulls away and stands on his knees when you see him pull down your panties down your legs, anticipation and nervousness creeps up in your body. It’s more clearer when he pulls down his boxers and you see slight precum leaking from the tip. His cock is standing prettily against his happy trail, veins running down it. At the size of the girth, your heart seems to be running even faster.

“It’s pretty.” You mutter out while curling your toes against the sheets and Rindou chuckles at your words. “Oh really? I think it’d look prettier with you squeezing around it.” Which makes even more heat crawl up your face.

When he rests his cock upon your pussy and you reach a hand down to touch it. Rindou lets out a breathy moan when you circle the tip with your thumb. You glance up at him and see how dazed his eyes look but also so dark. His violet eyes seem to have darkened in color and he’s watching a prey he already caught. Now just waiting to eat it.

He leans his body down to yours, brushing his nose against your own as he mumbles close to your ears. “I put it in now, yeah? So tell me if it hurts.” His voice was soft and deep and you only let out a soft yes when you felt the tip slip in. Rindou groans by your ear and you wrap your arms around his neck the more he slides inside you, the sheer girth of his cock has you letting out breathy moans. When he is fully inside you, a deep breath is what you let out and Rindou pulls his head up to look at your face.

“Alright, baby?” He asks and you nod as you feel down your abdomen and how him inside makes you feel. “You’re really big.” You breathe out and Rindou grins while he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“Are you gonna move?” You ask and Rindou chuckles. “Do you want me to?” He teases you by asking and you grip onto his hair and flash him a furious look.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want you — oh.” A choked gasp slips past your mouth when you feel Rindou thrust into you. He holds onto your waist and continues to thrust and thrust deeper into you, reaching places you never thought you’d be able to feel.

He takes your mouth in a kiss before pulling away to murmur sweet words of a ‘good girl’, ‘so tight but so good’, and confessing his love for you over and over again and more continuous praises. Which adds onto how much all of this feels, stimulations running up your body, hands gripping and almost clawing at his back as you squeeze his waist tighter and tighter at how the way he’s having with you makes you feel. Then he kisses you again.

He kisses you deeply, the kiss was of fervour as you could feel him on you, he was all around you, big and comforting while driving you out of your wits end at the way he’s so in control of his hip rolling inside you and lips working their way on yours. All you could do right now was to kiss him just as equally back with fervor and grip on his hair and squeeze your thighs around his slender waist.

You feel Rindou’s hand slip up to your chest and the other one down to the back of your thighs. When you feel his hand on your bare skin at your chest, you pull his head away in surprise. He was about to say something and you know exactly what. “Do it, it’s okay.” He didn’t say anything but he did something.

His hand was your bare tit. When he squeezes, you didn’t know such act could evoke such sensations in you, a moan falls down from your lips. Rindou nips your lower lip as he rubs his thumb over your nipple and something twists in your lower abdomen. Like something was about to happen and you were doing your best to put a relief to that twist. One hand of your trails down to hold his neck and the other one continuing to grasp onto his hair.

The kiss is just as deep and passionate, he rides against you harder, thrusting into you, driving the both of you frenzied.

You feel him pinch your nipple while he is nipping and kissing on your exposed neck, your thighs twitches and you feel that relief you were seeking. Rindou’s hips falters against yours before he pushes in one last strong thrust and was joining you just a few seconds later and you felt his teeth on your skin as he came with a muffled moan inside you, filling you up to the brim.

Then you feel his lips pressing on your mouth, rolling his tongue against yours, he leisurely sucks on your tongue and turns you two around on the bed as you’re now hovering over him. He continues to kiss you, gentle and soft this time as he held your face like you are the most precious thing ever. Then he pulls away as you murmur your discontent at the loss of touch.

He holds your face up to be able to look up at you. You see how dazed his eyes are, his lips swollen, his hairs messy and there’s sweat on his forehead and entire torso. His face was flushed and you felt speechless. He looks so stunning like this. Rindou thought the exact same thing about you. You looked good, especially on top of him and in a mess, specifically because of him. He glances down and sees how you two are connected, how his and your cum have formed an ‘O’ base on down his cock. He leans his head up to peck on your forehead as he tugs a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“How do you feel?” It was your first time and Rindou was nervous. Even though he was hesitant in the beginning, seeing how you were so sure of what you wanted and how needy you were, of course he did it but that didn’t remove the nervousness he felt. Even though he's more experienced than you, your first time matters a lot to him. “I feel good.” You simply say, voice croaky from moaning so much but feeling flustered thinking about what you two just did. You loved it.

“Did you like it?” He asks as his eyes were all over your face as you looked down on him below you. You cup his face and wipe away the hair sticking on his forehead. “If anything, I wanna do more of this.” You start off and you see how Rindou’s face flushes even more and you’re not even better. Your entire body’s heating up at your own words. “I loved it.” You simply say and Rindou could feel his heart soar at your words. And the fact he was your first.

“What about you?” He hears you, voice is softly low but nervous. Now it was your turn to look at him all over his face to see what he’s thinking. “I’m gonna think about this until my last breath.” Is what he said as he moves his hands down to your backside, softly holding you there and you let out a breathily giggle as Rindou grins at you. Until the face faded from his face and he had a worried expression.

“Do you think Ran heard us?” Because of his words, you felt terrified. If his brother who's on the same floor just outside your bedroom heard you, you’d never be able to face him knowing he knows what you and Rindou just did. “I hope he doesn't ask about it.” You say but you know him. Ran is nosy even if he pretends not to be. He is a good man but a nosy one as well.

“We can tell him we loved the grape soda a little too much.” Rindou grins at you when you lightly swat his chest. “That’s just telling him exactly what we did.”

“You’re right.” He simply says then makes a noise of discomfort. You ask what’s wrong and Rindou giggles lightly.

“I think I need to change clothes and underwear and I’m still inside you.” Your body heats up again because of his words. You didn’t properly take in the fact he came inside you and you’re still wrapped around him.

“And I think I’m gonna need a shower.” You tell Rindou, feeling embarrassed as he laughs at your reaction, you’re just too cute.

When he tells you to take a shower together, you quickly turn down the offer making Rindou laugh at you more, you only lightly hit his chest.

—

hope you enjoyed this ;(

a like and reblog would appreciated a lot <3

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moonstruck-poet · 11 months

Text

His Love Language

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!

Summary - This fic depicts Kaz and the subtle ways in which he shows his love.

Warnings - curse words, injury, wounds, blood, fight.

Kaz Brekker noticed everything. Whether it be someone cheating in a game of cards, enemies tailing him during his walk, or even his crows being unlike their usual selves.

Because he always paid more attention to what a person is doing than what they're saying. Talk may thrill, but action reveals.

He had an eye for taking in the details. It was both terrifying and beautiful.

Terrifying for his rivals of course. He knew exactly what to pull off and how to pull it off for them to go insane.

And beautiful for his love, his one and only. Him having such a knack for remembering the littlest of things helped him immensely in his relationship with you.

Not many people noticed it before, not even you yourself. But as time passed, you learned that his love language were actions. Not physical touches, words of affirmations, gifts and presents. No.

But it was all about those small acts showcased by him that made you fall deeper for the bastard of the barrel. Your heart now always took notice whenever he did the most mundane things for you. It immediately took up its pace and reminded you of the exact reason why it still kept on beating.

Your fellow crows took a hell of time to gather just how deep the love of Kaz Brekker was. But once they did, saints were they both shocked and ecstatic.

All of them had their own doubts when they came to know of your relationship. Nobody was a stranger to the fact that both of you were extremely closed off people. Not opening more than what was necessary, and in the case of Kaz, not opening up at all.

But one look at the way you two understood each other without even having to express, made them believe that you two would make each other happy.

===============================

Dirtyhands had struck another deal with a man named Arken Viking. The plan seemed quite simple, understandable even when it was explained.

And naturally everybody was feeling good knowing that they had a hundred percent chance of survival as it wasn't a difficult mission by any means. It just had a lot of steps that needed to be followed and so all seven of them were heavily involved.

Jesper, Wylan, Kaz and Matthias were waiting for the other girls to arrive. It was the final task of the day and they would then carry on again tomorrow.

Jesper was the one to pace around, unable to sit still in one place. He hated waiting more than anything else. Ask him to put up some money for a gamble? It would be done without wasting a second. Task him with shooting something impossibly far away? He'd have it completed before you could say shoot. But staying put in one place, he couldn't do it.

It was only for Wylan engaging with him that he even sat for ten minutes.

"Where did they go?" He grumbled and finally got up, stretching his legs and walking to stand near the two men who stared ahead, their expressions tight.

"They're late," Matthias muttered, trying his best to hide the worry he felt for a specific one but it was useless, all of them knew about his feelings but him.

"It'll be fine, they'll be here soon," Wylan said, standing next to Jesper and blushing very slightly when the tall boy leaned his shoulder against his and let out a sigh.

"You're sure that there's no danger right, Kaz?" Jesper asked and looked at his boss who didn't look away. His eyes firmly set on the road in front of them.

"Yes," he spoke, sure of himself. But there was this slight, very tiny nagging in the back of his mind that something had gone terribly wrong and he clenched his jaw.

But all of their worries dissipated at seeing the silhouette of three women walking towards them.

Matthias let out a sigh of relief once he saw Nina's bright face, him sending a quick prayer to Djel for looking over the three.

Kaz felt himself lighten instantly, his previously tensed posture relaxed as he saw you looking positively unscathed. His eyes found yours instantly and you sent him a smile, while quickly closing the distance between you two.

"You're late," was all he said, his eyes sweeping over everyone before landing on your figure which was leaning against the wall, right next to him.

"Let us live a little, Brekker," Nina rolled her eyes while Inej shook her head, though she too smirked.

"We were worried," Wylan was the one to speak that was on the tip of everybody's tongue.

"All of you?" She said with a raised eyebrow, looking pointedly at Kaz who merely glared at her sharply.

"Obviously!" Jesper exclaimed. "Now that you're all here, we can finally get some well deserved rest. Kaz let's take a room somewhere, yeah?"

"We can't," he said, turning his eyes away from you, rather unwillingly actually.

"What do you mean we can't?"

"Use your eyes, Jes," Inej said with a teasing smile. "Do you see any shops, hotels or anything nearby?"

"Then where the hell are we sleeping?" Nina said with a incredulous look. "I am not going to lie down in the middle of the street!"

Jesper too looked alarmed at the prospect and whipped his head around to stare at their leader.

"You think I'd let everyone sleep on the roads?"

"Can't put anything past you at this point," she grumbled and you laughed making Kaz give you a disbelieving expression.

"There's a warehouse ten minutes from here, we'll stay there for the night".

All of them groaned loudly at the thought of walking once again but soon started their small journey. And once they had reached the place, Jesper quite literally threw open the doors and scanned the area.

"Clean enough," he shrugged and laid the small blankets they had brought onto the floor. "Good night then," he waved lazily and Wylan followed his lead but not before gazing fondly at him for a few seconds.

"You failed to mention this in you plan, Kaz," Nina shot him a look and dragged her belongings to the corner of the room, accompanied by Inej and Matthias.

"Let's sleep, shall we?" You said softly and he nodded, taking off his coat while you arranged the sheets and removed your shoes, sighing at finally being able to rest.

He laid down himself, his body close to yours so your arms brushed a little. "You're okay, aren't you?"

"I'm all good," you turned your head to face him, taking in his features that you so loved. From his dark brown eyes that softened at your reply to his hands placed in front of him, the pale skin shining under the minimum lighting present.

He gave a curt nod and scanned your face once before closing his eyes, depriving himself of your addictive beauty.

"Night," you whispered and turned on your side, one hand under your head for support and the other lying in front. He didn't reply but instead reach ahead to brush his thumb against your forearm and interlocking your little fingers together.

You smiled, him being the last thought in your mind before sleep overtook you.

The rest of the night passed in peace before it was time for the sunrise. Naturally Kaz, Inej and Matthias were the first ones to wake. The rest were all sleeping soundly and soft breaths echoed in the room.

Kaz was looking over the layout of the building once again, making sure that everything would go on without any problems or worries when suddenly your knee brushed against his.

He stiffened at the contact for a second before turning around to see you pulling your legs up to your chest and curling into a ball. He immediately spotted the goosebumps that littered your arms and an unnoticeable shiver pass through you.

His eyes searched for a spare blanket somewhere but found none as all were used as mattresses for everybody to lay on. A small frown marked his lips as his mind raced and landed on a conclusion.

He took his coat that he had used as a pillow and dusted it before gently putting it over your body. Your curled figure made it easier and he adjusted it, making sure the warm jacket covered you completely.

You involuntarily grabbed the collar, your eyes still shut and cuddled into it.

While he felt himself ease up with satisfaction and he shot you one last look, unable to keep the fondness away from his gaze and returned to check the papers.

Matthias who had been watching the unspoken exchange felt his insides warming up at seeing the cold and distant demeanour of Kaz Brekker melting a little for you.

===============================

Predictably, the heist was successful and no one had expected anything less. In fact, it had gone a little more than satisfactory. They had no troubles waiting for them inside the building and no distractions outside too.

So to conclude, everybody was high on the fact that they had managed to pull it off with such stealth.

They were all given their paychecks when they returned back home.

"Saints," Jesper sighed and lovingly twirled the kruge in his fingers while Wylan unknown to anyone else but you shot tiny daggers at those pieces of money.

You hid your smirk, keeping the check in your pocket and walked over to your friend, "I understand, Wy," you patted his shoulder sympathetically while he became red.

"What do you understand?" He asked hurriedly and avoided eye contact.

"Oh come on," you chuckled. "I know about your not so little feelings. You fancy him, don't you?"

"No I don't," he mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe just a little," he added as an afterthought.

You just brought him in a comforting side hug, quite endeared by the boy and ruffled his already wild hair. "I hate to say it, but he's more oblivious than anyone".

"I know," he groaned in exasperation, resting his head on your shoulder as you were considerably taller than him.

"Planning to steal her from Brekker?" Nina's playful words broke their conversation making the others laugh.

"Who's stealing what from me?" The man himself entered, as usual being perfect in his timing of showing up at the most unnecessary of times.

Wylan immediately removed your arm from his shoulder but Kaz being himself obviously glimpsed it. His expression did not betray anything, it was carefully kept stoic and calm. But he couldn't fool you, there was a reason why he'd let you walk fearlessly into his locked up heart.

His eyes seemed sullen for just a fraction of second. He wasn't reacting on the joke, of course not. He was now used to the crows trying to make him jealous. But rather the thing that had made him feel lost, was touch.

His inability to provide you with every bit of himself was killing him inside. For heaven's sake he couldn't even bear to embrace you without feeling as though he were on the edge and one small step would make him fall deeper into the oceans.

He swallowed and averted his gaze making you stare at him even more, trying to figure out what was bothering him.

You got up from your place and went over to sit in a chair beside him, keeping the distance because you weren't sure if he was okay with the proximity or not. But then he himself shifted his chair, and your legs brushed making him pull away quickly.

"Kaz," you said worriedly, moving back a little. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied and you frowned. He knew very well that you could tell he was being untruthful.

He willed his mind to focus on you rather than his surroundings and took your hand in his, taking a deep breath despite the barrier of his glove.

But it wasn't enough, he felt the strange need to be even closer to you despite his brain screaming in denial. And for the second time in his life, he decided to go with his heart and looked you in the eyes, noticing your evident concern as you approached him cautiously.

He gave his surroundings a quick scan. It was only the seven of them and they were all minding their own business. He made a split decision and started taking the glove off of his right hand.

You didn't say anything, finally understanding that he needed your touch and you were more than happy to provide.

He stopped in his tracks after pulling it off, staring at his pale, vulnerable hand.

"It's okay," you whispered softly, fighting the urge to lean over yourself. "I'm here. It's just you and me. You can do this".

He looked unsure but slowly extended it towards you. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before, he had, but it had been quite a long time ago.

He gently brushed his fingertips over your palm and relaxed when no waters rose. He nudged his little finger with yours and looked up to see you before locking them.

Your face held a small, adoring smile. It was so simple, yet so complex. You squeezed gently once and he returned it instantly making you laugh softly.

He felt strange in a good way, as if he had accomplished everything he wanted when he had only heard the sound of your laughter.

"Okay you two stop your gossiping, it's dinner time," Jesper broke the moment and was rewarded with a threatening glare. He just grinned in return when his eyes fell on a hand, Kaz's hand to be specific and his mouth hung open slightly.

"Never seen a hand before?" Kaz raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled on the glove.

He looked away, his mind still trying to figure it out as he grabbed the plates.

You stood up from your seat much to Kaz's displeasure who shot a heartbroken look your way that you missed. But Jesper caught on as he was sitting right opposite.

He'd never thought that he would live to see the day when Dirtyhands would look sad like a lovesick puppy. He was debating with himself whether he even saw it happening because the look was gone in less than a second, replaced by his usual dark gaze.

But he was cut off from his thoughts when you smiled at him, keeping a plate of food on the table. "Enjoy".

"Yeah, 'course love".

All of them were now sitting at the table for the first time in months. They just never seemed to have a time fixed that would match everyone's schedule. And for most part, they were all lazy as well.

You were sitting at the corner of the table with Nina at the opposite side, her having every bit of your attention at the moment as she chatted away happily much to the disappointment of the man sitting to your right.

"The cake is great, Nina," Inej complimented her and she gave her a wink in return.

"It is nice," Matthias agreed making the said chef blush despite her smirk.

"Yeah I love it," Wylan smiled brightly.

"Oh damn," you winced as the spoon fell down with a loud clatter, breaking the conversation for a bit before it resumed again.

Inej watched you with amusement, laughing at your resigned expression when you bent down to retrieve it with a sigh. But then her eyes widened in surprise.

Kaz Brekker, the most ruthless man she'd ever met was maybe not that uncaring. She merely watched as his hand went to cover the sharp corner of the table as if it was an everyday occurence.

And you got up, putting the spoon away to take a new one when you stopped mid-action to see a gloved hand had been placed inches above your head that would have definitely rubbed against the edge.

At the moment all that existed for you was the person sitting right next to you. You stared at him blankly, planting holes on the side of his face.

He, sensing it turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as though to ask, 'What?'

But you just shook your head and offered him a small smile and you swore you saw his lip twitch slightly.

===============================

"Ready Inej?" You asked, as softly as you could muster though you were shaking inside, knowing that you two only had one shot at this.

"All ready," she whisperer back and crouched down slightly, preparing to jump.

A gunshot was heard and the guard was successfully distracted by the sound giving Inej some time to slip in between the shadows and enter the room.

You had no choice than to shoot a bullet and now they were all alarmed which would make escaping very difficult.

Your eyes squinted in the darkness as you surveyed the room, hoping no one caught a glimpse of you and praying to whichever Saint there was for Inej to finish her job.

"Come on," you muttered to yourself, your legs shaking with anticipation as it had easily been ten minutes since she had disappeared. "Where the hell are you?"

Just then you spotted some movement going on further to your left and loaded your gun while also keeping one hand on the scabbard tied around your waist. Your footsteps were barely heard as they travelled softly on the wooden floor.

Someone had definitely seen you and were on a hunt, all you could do was make sure to stay hidden perfectly. The darkness was surely an ally but an enemy too.

A loud thud was the only warning you had before someone knocked the air out of your lungs making you skid backwards. You gasped, hands pressed to your chest while taking in deep breaths and moving away from the man, buying yourself time. It didn't feel like your ribs had broken but it hurt nonetheless.

You wracked your brain for a sign of another presence but it was only him. "Viking," you growled in anger after he stepped into the light. "I should've known".

He simply chuckled darkly, "You didn't though. Even Brekker failed. So I think I did my work to perfection, yeah?"

"Who else have you got?"

"No one!" He said, sounding strangely happy and you believed him to be a psychopath. "But the same can't be said for you, am I right?"

But you just shrugged, knowing if you spoke he'd be able to distinguish because of your voice. You should think about asking Kaz to teach you how he managed to always control his tone perfectly. But that would only be possible if you got out of here alive.

Not saying another word you charged, knowing using a gun would prove to be dangerous for you if he snatched it from you. Unfortunately, one of your downfalls was thag you didn't have much of a strong grip. And so you took two knifes and attacked him from both sides.

He took on a few cuts, some going deep and you were scarred too. A small one painted your cheekbone, one on the side of your neck and some on your arms.

You fought for quite a time, both being bloody with sweat dripping off your bodies. It was only when you pretended to hit him from your left and he fell for the basic trick, blocking your attack and in turn giving you easy access to wedge your knife straight into his abdomen. You shot him too for safety measures and double checking.

"Motherfucker," you heaved a sigh, wincing after feeling the burn of the cuts littering you and the stickiness of blood. "Fucking finally!" You exclaimed when your friend came into view, panting slightly and you knew she had gotten into a fight as well.

"Atleast we're matching," she said with a smile and pointed at the similar scars on your forearms.

"Yeah sure," you laughed and quickly moved out, not wanting to personally invite trouble.

The journey back the the Slat was a peaceful one, as it always was with Inej. You talked about Arken's betrayal, the documents she'd found and copied and some amounts of kruge that was just lying on the desk.

"Well despite everything, atleast we got it done," you grimaced slightly and opened the door, immediately walking over to the bar to get yourself a shot atleast. You needed the liquor desperately.

"Oh you're h- Saints!" Wylan sputtered, taking in the bloody sight when you turned. "You're drinking whiskey?!"

"Wy," you said, trying to explain before you faced his wrath. "I needed it".

"Like hell you did," he shook his head and called Nina so urgently that anyone would think you were dying.

"Don't- Wylan-" you cut yourself off after seeing his glare.

"Calm your potions, she's not dying" Nina Zenik said after one glance at your figure lounging in the chair.

"But she's injured!"

"Injury and death don't mean the same thing! And she looks alright to me except for a few cuts. Oh you and Inej have matching tattoos now," she said with a laugh.

"Jesper!" You summoned your gunslinger and he appeared right before you. "Take your man away or I'm going to actually die".

The boy got out of his haze of sering you all bruised and bloodied up before smirking a little and throwing a wink. He took hold of Wylan's arm and dragged his away.

"Matthias get me some bandages would you?" Nina asked as she healed the cuts and Matthias who had finished dressing Inej's arm walked over to you.

"Ouch woman!" You groaned and threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

"It's the size of a paper cut! You don't shout this much when you have a literal bullet in your shoulder".

"They hurt more".

She rolled her eyes though a smile was present on her face as she cleaned the blood from your neck and healed the long cut there.

"Where's Kaz?" You asked, not wanting to admit that you had missed him and wanted to be in his presence.

"He's out somewhere, probably finding another deal," Matthias sighed and bandaged your palm.

After some time you were all healed though the scars were as clear as day. You didn't mind them at all because you were convinced they made you look even more terrifying and beautiful.

"You all okay?" You questioned Inej who was sharpening her collection of knives.

"I always am," she smiled and took your knife to sharpen making you give her a grateful look.

It was now almost past eleven at night and you were sitting on the bed in Kaz's room waiting for him. You wanted to see him, had longed for him after being away for almost an entire day.

And the Saints did answer your plea albeit a while later. You heard the familiar tap of his cane and heavy footsteps as he climbed the staircase and opened the door. His eyes sharp but relaxing upon seeing you.

"Mission went well?" He asked and took off his coat and hat while walking towards you and slumping down on the bed.

"Yes, though Arken's betrayal was a great bit of surprise," you said and sat up, unconsciously putting weight on your elbows and arms in doing so and hissing hissing angrily, clutching your sore muscles.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately but when you didn't answer, he got up to turn on the lights and saw your scrunched up face.

And one by one he took notice of the bruises that were turning black and blue, bandages being wrapped around your palm and bicep and a thin but prominent scar on your neck. He swallowed the unfamiliar restlessness, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and kill the man who had injured you so badly.

"You're hurt," he stated as though you weren't aware of it and closed the distance, sitting as close to you as possible. "You're hurt," he repeated, his eyes flicking from every part of you back to your eyes.

"I was, I'm okay now".

"Who?" He all but spat out, his insides burning with hatred.

"Arken. But I killed him, don't worry".

He eased a little and removed his gloves, cautiously reaching forward to hold your bandaged palm in both of his hands. His breath hitched at the coldness and you made a move to pull away but his grip tightened and he shook his head firmly.

Slowly but surely he relaxed again, feeling comfortable as he unknowingly cradled your hand with such gentleness that you closed your eyes. His fingers traced the edge of the white material, rubbing slow circles.

He suddenly looked up and your breath got caught in your throat at the sheer proximity between you two. You were so close that you could feel the air he heavily exhaled and a faint blush was quick to rise on your cheeks. His dark brown irises staring intently into yours with a flame of possessiveness.

His eyes dipped down to your lips before moving to the scar on your cheekbone and his eyebrows furrowed just a tiny bit. He raised his hand once again, he had only done it once before and the feeling was a huge rival to drowning.

His jaw tightened when the tip of his index finger touched your jaw as softly as a feather. Despite wanting to stay still, you couldn't help it and leaned into his hand, conveying the message that you needed more.

He understood and gritted his teeth, carefully sliding his palm upwards to cup your cheek. His chest expanded as he released the pent up frustration.

This feeling, it was a rival to heaven.

Now that he had touched your skin, he craved more. His thumb softly caressed the scar like it may disappear under his brush. The finger moved at a leisurely pace, soaking in the beautiful feeling for as long as he could hold on.

You couldn't bring yourself to talk after witnessing the tenderness that oozed from his touches and caresses. It was like nothing you had experienced before. The moment felt so precious and for good reason.

You smiled at him, your eyes displaying the immense love that your heart held only for him and also silently thanked him.

He noticed. Of course he did.

And he offered you a gorgeous smile of his own. His lips stretching though not too wide but it was perfect for you and you fell for him yet again.

You found home in his smile and he saw love in your eyes.

===============================

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theres-a-body-here · 7 months

Text

Scumtober- Day 10 (Knotting)

Legoshi x Male!reader

If someone had told you at the beginning of your relationship with Legoshi that he would be the one to initiate sex, you probably would have laughed in their face.

So imagine your surprise when, after a particularly amazing date, Legoshi proposed that the two of you have sex the next night.

You didn't know what to expect. You're a virgin and as far as you know, he was too. To be honest, you were scared. You took enough biology to know that wolf knot plus a human ass would definitely mean pain. That's not even taking into consideration that Legoshi was way taller than wolves of his own species.

But you had time to prepare, so you did.

You followed every tutorial on Furrchan and Beastube, especially that one gay dude who Nair'd his ass on video and posted it onto the site. He seemed like the expert to go to. You went out shopping and frantically bought everything you might need for such a challenge. Lube, condoms, douche, and information pamphlets went into your cart.

You currently sat on Legoshi's bed bunk, waiting for him to arrive. You had showered, cleaned yourself out, and even used the shampoo that Legoshi liked. Everything had to go perfectly. You even had some soft music playing through a small speaker.

As you waited anxiously, the atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation. Every sound that echoed down the hallway amplified your heartbeat just a little more, making each moment feel like an eternity.

Finally, after what felt like hours, there was a gentle knock on the door followed by its slow creak open. In walked Legosi, looking quite flustered as nervously walked over and sat on the bed with you.

"So…uhh," You muttered, not sure how to initiate sex. You were in the dark about these kinds of things.

At your hesitation, Legoshi's eyes darted around nervously before returning to meet yours halfway. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the words within him. His cheeks flushed under his fur even deeper at his own embarrassment.

Finally, he managed to squeak out softly, "Um... do you want me to undress first?" It was clear from his voice that this was foreign territory for him too; there was an uncertainty lacing every syllable.

You pause for a moment, trying to remember the pamphlet about healthy sexual relationships. "What if.....what if we help remove each other's clothes?" You finally manage to recite meekly as you fiddled with your thumbs.

At your suggestion, Legosi's eyes lit up slightly as he nodded eagerly. "Yeah," he murmured softly, "that sounds good."

With a snail's pace, he began reaching out to gently grab hold of your shirt hem. With a hesitant look in his eyes, he began to tug lightly, urging you to move closer so he could pull it off properly without letting go entirely. As he did so, he took note of your reaction—whether you were uncomfortable or enjoying the contact between them. You nod timidly and lift your arms up.

As soon as Legosi felt your permission through your lifted arms, he quickly grasped onto the idea and began pulling your shirt upwards with newfound confidence. His fingers brushing against your skin sent shivers down your spine. Once fully off, Legoshi started at your bare torso. He shifted closer as if wanting to take in the sight.

As Legoshi moved closer, his hot breath danced along your neck sending shivers down your spine. He couldn't resist taking in your scent, trying to commit it to memory forever. The way his nose grazed against your skin ignited a spark inside him, awakening primal desires that he didn't know existed until now. His heart raced faster as adrenaline coursed through his veins—this was intoxicating!

This set the pattern.

One of you would take off the other's article of clothing, then stare at their body. As the two of you progressively shed layers of clothing, the air between you became charged with electricity. Every brush of fingers against skin sent ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Even though you were both nervous and unsure, something about this exchange felt right.

Finally sitting face to face in nothing but their underwear, Legoshi couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He traced delicate patterns over your chest with his fingertips, marveling at how soft your skin felt beneath them. Meanwhile, you reached out to feel his soft fur.

Both of you blushed deeply as you realized where this was heading. Neither of you wanted to make the first move, fearful of crossing boundaries or being rejected. But despite your hesitations, neither could bring themselves to break eye contact either.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Legoshi reached out towards your boxers, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered just above the fabric. With bated breath, he slowly pulled down the waistband of your boxers, revealing your erect cock beneath. Your member twitched slightly at the sensation of cool air bathing it. After a few minutes of Legoshi staring in awe at your dick, You decide to return the favor and pull his briefs off.

As you pulled Legoshi's underwear off, exposing his hardened cock tentatively, he let out a soft moan of relief. Feeling increasingly bold, he reached out to touch your cock once again, stroking it slowly with his palm while looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Taking courage from his touch, you leaned in close, wrapping one arm around him to pull him close for a kiss. Your lips met in a tender kiss as your bodies pressed flush together. Your tongues tentatively explored each other's mouths as you began grinding your hips together in sync, rubbing your cocks against each other.

You shifted to lay in the bed. Legoshi didn't stop kissing you as he followed your movements. Fortunately, you had prepared for the next part since you didn't want to waste precious time. You had already lubed your hole prior. But it was still worrying to think about Legoshi's knotted cock fitting into your ass.

As you lay back on the bed, Legoshi couldn't help but stare at your ass, his heart pounding with desire. He knew that this was going to happen eventually, but seeing it right here in front of him made it all the more real.

His brow furrowed in concern when he saw the expression on your face, worry written all over it. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured softly, his voice full of regret.

You shook your head reassuringly, trying to calm him down. "It's okay," you whispered back, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "We can take things slow."

With a deep breath, Legoshi nodded slowly, still uncertain but willing to trust in your words. Together, you guided him closer, positioning his tip at your entrance. He had a strong grip on your hips and you placed your hands over his.

"Are you ready?" you asked quietly, meeting his eyes for reassurance. He nodded again, biting his lip as he prepared for the inevitable penetration. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself inside you, groaning softly at the tightness surrounding him.

As Legoshi pushed further into you, a sharp stab of pain shot through your body. You winced and let out a small cry, causing him to freeze midway. "Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly, pulling back slightly. Closing your eyes tightly to block out the pain, you forced yourself to relax and breathe steadily. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the genuine concern reflected in Legosi's gaze. He looked truly frightened at the prospect of hurting you.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently and smiled reassuringly. "No," you said softly, "just a bit of discomfort. Keep going..." Your voice trailed off as he resumed his thrusts, slowly pushing further into you. Despite the pain, you couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with it. The sensation of being filled by your boyfriend was overwhelming. As Legoshi picked up speed, his hands entwined with yours.

As Legoshi's pace quickened, sweat dripping down his fur, his movements became erratic yet powerful. Drool slipped past his parted lips, trailing down his chin as he lost himself in the motions. His eyes were glazed over, focused solely on you and the rhythmic movement of their bodies. His muscles tensed with each thrust, the sounds of fur slapping against skin filling the room.

Every time you cried out in pleasure or arched your back, it drove him even harder, his cock throbbing with need inside you. He lost track of time and place, consumed by the primal desire pulsing through him. All he could see was you and all he wanted was more.

Legoshi's voice cracked as he tried to speak, the heat building up inside him making it difficult to form coherent sentences. "Mmm... God, you feel so good," he moaned, his tongue tangled in his attempts to express himself.

As he continued to pound into you, his hips slapping against your ass, he managed to gather enough strength to whisper, "Please... tell me how much you love this... Tell me it's amazing!"

Despite his plea, he doubted anything could have prepared him for the wave of emotion that crashed over him when you finally answered, your voice hoarse with passion, "Yes... yes, it's incredible. Don't stop."

Legoshi's hand slid down between your legs, his rough fingers curling around your cock as he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Your moans of pleasure echoed off the walls, driving him wild with lust. Unable to contain himself any longer, he threw his head back and roared, the sound reverberating throughout the room.

Legoshi's moans grew more intense as his pace increased, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his climax. "I love you," he chanted between ragged breaths, his voice breaking with emotion. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied between heavy pants as you felt your world spinning. Your body quivered with each thrust, the sensations overloading your senses. You clung to Legoshi and wrapped your legs around his waist for dear life as he stirred your guts with his cock. Before you knew it, your entire body tensed up as you came with a loud moan.

As you came, your body convulsing in pleasure as you spilled seed onto your stomach, Legoshi growled low in his throat. The sound vibrated against your skin. Seeing your release only fueled his desire further, and he continued to pound into you, determined to claim his own release.

Legoshi's entire body tensed up as he felt his orgasm approaching, his movements becoming more frantic as he neared the edge. Just as he felt like he couldn't hold back anymore, he let out a loud, primal yell. In one thrust, he slammed his knot into you, locking into place with a wet popping sound. He released himself inside you, filling you up with his warm cum as his knot kept you in place. You whimper as you feel it coat your insides. His body shuddered violently as he let out a long, drawn-out moan.

Legoshi stayed buried deep inside you, his body still trembling with excitement. He nuzzled against your face affectionately, soft kisses scattered across your neck and shoulders. "I'm so sorry if it hurts," he whispered softly.

You ran your fingers through his fur gently, offering reassurance as you spoke, "It's okay." You paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, maybe it won't be so bad having us stuck together like this for a while." You gave him a playful smirk which only served to make him flustered even more.

You both spent the rest of the night cuddling closely together, occasionally shifting positions to ease the discomfort caused by his knot. As sleep claimed you both, you drifted off happily knowing Legoshi was connected to you, physically and emotionally.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

#beastars #beastars x reader #legoshi #legoshi x reader #male reader #male!reader #legoshi x male!reader #legoshi beastars #beastars legoshi #scumtober #scumtober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #knott

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xzaddyzanakinx · 6 months

Text

I So, So, Right I pt.4

Stepbro! Anakin × innocent reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: smut, inappropriate relationships, oral sex, public/semi-public, demeaning/condescending words toward reader, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, dd/lg dynamics (implied), daddy kink

Info: Modern AU, Anakin is whipped, Anakin literally worships the ground you walk on, reader is accidentally a brat, reader has oral fixation

NOT PROOFREAD

The next few hours of your day were agonizingly boring, you had already paced around the entire house, called your friend to confirm she was still up for your hangout tomorrow, and taken a shower just to have something to do. Your hair wrapped up in a towel and a thin robe wrapped around your frame as you wondered back into the kitchen.

Opening and closing the fridge in hopes that the next time you open it a yummy treat will have magically manifested. Unfortunately the fridge had failed to conjure something, anything appetizing so you settled for leftover lasagna.

With your belly full you retired to your room, scanning your bookshelf and selecting a classic. Tossing it on the bed before digging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear.

“Cozy.” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled out some fuzzy shorts, pushing aside everything else to find the matching shirt.

Huffing in aggravation you slipped on your underwear and the shorts while making the trip from your room to Anakin’s. It wasn’t uncommon for your clothes to get misplaced, sometimes when Anakin puts away the laundry he gets -alittle- impatient with folding. So he often ends up scooping what’s left in the basket into his arms and dropping it in the nearest dresser drawer.

Shuffling through the clothes you felt your hand touch something cool, curious to see what it was you pulled it from its hiding place. It seemed to be a trinket box, a deep blue hard plastic box with a very small latch. You popped it open and immediately recognized some of the items inside.

Movie ticket stubs, rocks you’d collected, the fancy coaster from the restaurant where you’d first met. A box of memories, a box of all things you. Your heart swelled as you picked up the items immediately remembering each moment connected to each precious keepsake.

At the bottom of the shallow box you found one thing that was unfamiliar. A tiny black velvet drawstring bag, hesitant to open it since you’d already invaded his privacy by opening the box in the first place. But what’s the harm right? You’d come this far… might as well take a look.

Carefully opening the bag, you turned it upside down above your open palm. Two metallic items clanked together as they fell into your hand. A simple but elegant ring and a tiny pendant meant for a dainty necklace. You clapped your hand over your mouth with the bag still between your fingers.

Hurriedly tucking the precious jewelry safely back into the bag and arranging the items in the box in the same places you’d found them. You tucked it back into its hiding place, shoving the drawer shut as if it burned you. Shaking out your hands you opened the next drawer and saw the shirt you were looking for laying right on top. Why couldn’t you have opened that one first?

Though the questions you really wanted to ask were ‘Why is his mother’s engagement ring in a box filled with things meant to represent you?’ ‘Where did the pendant come from? Who did it belong to?’

It had been two hours since your discovery and your nerves had finally subsided. You willed your mind to tuck those thoughts into the crevasses of your brain. It’s a trinket box, of course he’d put things like that in there! How silly of you to react in such a way!

You’d tried to read to put your focus into something else, but the words melted together on every page. You groaned in frustration, if only you’d done your own laundry last time! You wouldn’t have ever had a reason to dig through his clothes and you would’ve never seen the box.

Pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes and scrubbing until you saw colored dots. A nap. Yes, that’s what you need. A nice little nap to forget about your invasion of privacy and the troublesome things you’d discovered because of it.

You hopped up to close the curtains then got right back in bed. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and tucking your favorite stuffed animal under your arm, you tried your best to let sleep consume you.

Your blankets rustled, the mattress dipping under the weight of someone slipping into bed with you. Stirring slightly at the feeling of warm skin against your back, a hand stroking your upper arm slowly brought you back to consciousness. Your eyes adjusted to the dark room, only lit by the evening’s sun beams sneaking around your curtains and the bathroom light. Revealing the most beautiful soft smile on the lips of your love.

“Little sleepyhead.” He whispered, pressing his soft plump lips to your forehead.

You breathed in deeply, tucking yourself under his arm and pressing your nose to his neck. Drowning in the scent of his freshly washed hair and still damp body.

“Have you been home long?” You yawned.

“Nah, just about an hour. I didn’t wanna wake you up just yet so I had a bite to eat and a shower.” He nuzzled into your hair, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“You were gone soooo looong.” You groaned, “I was so bored.”

“My poor girl.” He laughed.

“Don’t make fun of me!” You pouted, pulling back to see his grinning face.

He leaned forward quickly to catch your protruding bottom lip between his teeth. Scrunching his nose and pulling gently, after releasing your lip he placed a soothing kiss over it.

“But it’s so fun.” He laughed.

“Yeah, for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, no attitude.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, while his gaze stayed stern.

“M’sorry.” Looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I know you are princess.” he smoothed your hair back, twirling a lock around his finger and bringing it up to tickle your nose.

Something about his tone of voice, how he sounded so confident in that statement, made heat pool between your legs. You felt your cheeks blush, stomach swirling with nerves. Just as you were forming a sentence through the muddy waters of your mind, a noise made you both jump.

“Shit.” Anakin scrambled out of the bed, an obvious erection tenting his loose boxers.

It was Obi-Wan, treading down the hall, quickly glancing at your bedroom door you realized it was unlocked. Anakin had slipped into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. You laid there, frozen in confusion, why had he run away like that?

Though you didn’t have too much time to wonder, because Obi-Wan’s fist was knocking on your door.

“Come in.” You said, leaning over to turn on your lamp light.

“Hey,” he peeked in, “you feelin’ okay?”

“Mhm, I was just tired is all.” You answered, sitting up.

“Sorry to wake you sweets, your mom sent me up, dinner is ready. Do you know where-“ he started, interrupted by Anakin’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“There he is!” He laughed, bringing an arm across his body to ruffled his -now fully dressed- son’s hair.

Anakin gave you a sly wink over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Reaching around to flick on your over head light, flashing it a few times for good measure and earning a light scolding from his dad.

“C’mon, leave her be.” Obi-Wan laughed, headed back down the hall.

Anakin stayed in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

“You heard the man, gotta leave ya be.” He shrugged, hiding a smile.

“Don’t say things like that!” You threw the nearest weapon you could find, a stuffed animal.

He caught it effortlessly, tossing it to the floor, his playful attitude dwindling. He walked over to you, holding his hand out for you to take. You accepted and let him pull you out of the bed, enveloping you in what would’ve been a sweet and comforting embrace if not for the words he whispered in your ear.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” His lips brushing your earlobe, “cause it seems like you are.”

“N-no! No I don’t want to!” You whisper shouted, eyebrows turned up in concern.

“My little good girl,” he tutted, gripping the back of your neck, “turned bratty the minute I showed you how I could make you feel.”

His face buried in the gentle slope of your neck, his fingers intwined in your hair tugging gently. His free hand sliding down your back to grip your ass and knead the doughy flesh. His tongue darting out to glide along the soft flesh, drawing a mewl from your eager body.

“I-I’m not a br-brat.” You protested, feeling weak in the knees already.

“Yeah you are.” He growled, pulling your head back by your hair, “but you’re my brat.”

A whimper escaped you, earning a dark chuckle from Anakin.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll help you be good again.” He released you from his strong hands.

“You will?” You asked, hopeful, disappointed with yourself for misbehaving.

“Of course babydoll.” He grinned, pointer finger hooked under your chin. “That’s what Daddy’s here for.”

Oh fuck, a gush of slick dripped from your cunt, wetting your panties. Daddy? Your eyes widened, in awe of how Anakin saying just one word could make you feel so, so many things all at once. He had a knowing look on his face, as if he expected this to be your response. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you with him down the hall.

Dinner concluded without any hiccups, that was until your mother suggested a ‘family movie night’. You couldn’t really say no, Anakin had bumped your foot and very slightly shook his head when you began to protest. Catching you at the sink where you stood scraping off the bits from your plate.

“If we both told them no they’d be suspicious.” He whispered, a hand sneaking to your plump backside, rubbing soothing circles with his knuckles.

“Why?” You asked, hearing the clink of your plate against the silverware in the sink.

“Baby,” he drew the word out, pain in his eyes, “you know we can’t let anyone find out about us.”

“But why?” You pouted, crossing your arms and stomping one foot.

His expression hardened at your defiance which you quickly recognized, fixing your posture and dropping your arms.

“Good girl.” He nodded, adding a sigh, “they won’t understand. No one would understand.”

“Is that why you ran away earlier?” You questioned, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek.

“I want to shout from the rooftops and let everyone know just how much I love you, but I can’t.” He pulled you in close for a tight embrace, cradling your head to his chest protectively.

A soft sniffle met his ears and his heart broke, shattered to a million pieces. This was so selfish of him and he knew it, he knew the consequences, he knew it was wrong. He couldn’t help it though, not when it comes to you. You with the gorgeous smile, the laugh that reminded him of fairy bells, the softness of your voice when you spoke to him in the cover of night.

That’s all you’d be able to enjoy, love under the blanket of darkness.

“Please don’t cry.” He whined and squeezed you tighter, “please, I can’t stand it.”

You simply nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose against his chest to wipe away the tears.

“I’ll find a way.” His voice strong and resolute, “I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

You both had missed the sound of slippered feet on the kitchen tile, only being alerted to the presence of another person when they let out a sharp breath. You felt Anakin’s muscles tighten, his heart quicken under the warm fabric of his shirt.

He was wracking his brain, to find an excuse and settling on the first thing that surfaced in the waters of panic. He twisted his body and yours in the direction of the noise, you could feel his chest heave in relief. He lifted his arm and brought his finger to his lips, half mouthing and half whispering to his father.

“Boy problems.” He wasn’t lying, he was just omitting that he was the offending boy.

Obi-wan tutted, coming forward to place a loving hand between your shoulders.

“It’ll be alright. Let’s go get your mind off it huh?” He suggested, motioning to the living room.

You peeled yourself out of Anakin’s arms, allowing him to guide you to the living room, taking a seat on the plush carpet in front of the couch.

“I’ll get your mind off it.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

You giggled through one more sniffle, and Anakin left your side to grab two throw blankets. Throwing one over you and tucking himself under the other, with his back leaned against the front of the couch he took the remote and flipped through the streaming services.

With your parents settling in above you, you managed to enjoy your time. But of course, half way through the movie you let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Soon after your eyes fluttered closed, Anakin smiled softly at the sound of your tiny snores.

You were jostled around, feeling arms scooping you up. Anakin’s forearm hooked beneath your butt to support your weight and his other pressing your upper body to his securely. You stirred halfway through the journey up the stairs.

“Hmm?” You sleepily took in your surroundings.

“Shh baby, I’m just taking you to bed.” He whispered, pushing open the bedroom door, momentarily removing his arm to lock the door.

Gently he laid you down, rolling you to your side. Hazily opening your eyes you recognized that this was not your bed and you were not in your room. Anakin had put you in his bed, and he was now walking through the bathroom to your room, locking the door in there as well.

You sat up, yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes, groggy but conscious enough to speak when he re-entered his room.

“M’sorry I fell asleep.” You mumbled, holding out your arms and flapping your hands to beckon him closer.

He of course happily obliged, shedding his tshirt and pants on his way. Slipping into the bed next to you with a comforting hand to your cheek which you gratefully leaned into.

“My poor baby.” He cooed, leaning in to kiss the sleep away.

His lips slotted against yours and you tentatively returned the kiss, soon allowing him to deepen it when your body begged your brain to catch up. Snaking your arms around his neck earned a groan from his lips that were wrapped around your tongue, sucking gently.

Without breaking contact with your sweet mouth he pushed you into the mattress so that he was hovering above you. He spread your legs with a bump of his knee and you eagerly obeyed, allowing him to lower himself against your heated core. A sinful moan of yours was trapped in his mouth when pressed his already throbbing length into the apex of your thighs.

“Just woke up and already begging for my touch.” He snickered, sloppy kisses along your jawline as he snuck his hands under your shirt.

He placed a firm hand on your breast, palming and massaging it while using the other to guide your shirt over your head. With both breasts exposed he descended on them, peppering them with hungry kisses, suckling and nibbling on both nipples, unable to let one go without his attention for too long.

Keening and rolling your hips against him as he attacked your chest provided not relief at all, your body screaming for his eager mouth to travel lower.

“Ani.” You whined, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Not now sweet girl.” He mumbled against your supple flesh.

He smiled as he brought his teeth back down to the gentle slope of your breast, biting and closing his lips around you, tongue flicking against the skin once he released it from his teeth. He let his hands roam, exploring every inch of you. Making sure to find your hand often and give you a reassuring squeeze. His mouth finally delved lower, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake while it traveled the expanse of your abdomen.

“Gotta taste my sweet little pussy.” He groaned, hooking his finger in the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The animalistic noise he made when he spread your cunt open for him to see was nothing short of pornographic. Just the sound of him pining over your wetness was enough to make your hole flutter around nothing, making you feel hopelessly empty.

“Please Anakin, please I need it.” You begged.

“Need what princess?” He teased, his hot breath blowing against your cunt.

“Ani!” You pouted, slamming your fists down on either side of you.

“Hey.” He said in a gruff voice, warning you.

You stayed silent, gazing into his softening eyes, hoping your stare would be enough to sway him into giving you what you wanted. Slowly he did, introducing his lips first, chaste kisses from your mound down to your dripping hole. The tip of his tongue retracing those steps to elicit a soft and drawn out ‘oh’ from your kiss swollen mouth.

He gently delved deeper into your folds, humming at the taste of you. It was as if he enjoyed this more than you did if that was possible. From the way his breathing got heavier and the death grip he held on your hips you’d think he was the one writhing beneath you. Eating you wouldn’t be a good enough descriptor, he was - devouring- you, insatiable and aggressive.

His hot wet tongue breached your pussy and dove as deeply as possible, moaning in sync with you. His grip of your hips loosened, freeing up his thumbs to press into your hips, massaging them in circles, adding another layer of pleasure for you. You couldn’t help the trashing of your body, your fist abused by your own teeth and you bit down in hopes to stifle your cries.

“So good baby,” he groaned, suckling your clit, “doing so fuckin’ good f’me.”

“Mhm!” You squirmed, “I wanna be good for you Ani.”

“Shit. I’ll cum before you do if you keep talking like that.” He shivered, rutting into the bed.

He couldn’t let that happen, he needed your cum, he needed his lips coated in your juices like he needed air to breathe. He doubled down, rolling your clit between his teeth in such a way that the white heat in your lower stomach flashed with electricity, shocking your nerves with the sudden and harsh orgasm.

Your body convulsed as you buried your face into the pillow beside you. Painfully swallowing your cries, feeling your hot tears staining the softness of the pillow. Anakin lapped up everything you gave him, every drop coating his chin was licked up by his greedy tongue.

“God I could do this for hours.” He moaned, giving you no down time at all before starting again, the sensitivity made you hiss, kicking your legs involuntarily.

“M’not done.” He growled, holding your legs still.

He reached up beside you, taking the pillow from your face and folding it in half. Lifting your bottom with no effort and sliding the pillow under your lower back.

“What’re you doing?” You whined, trying to close your legs.

“Working this tight cunt open.” he moaned, his middle finger toying with your soaked core.

“Just one okay baby doll?” He asked, tearing his blown out pupils from your glistening cunt to look at you for permission.

Sighing in relief at your eager nod, he dipped the tip of his finger past your folds. Circling the hole gently, and moaning as he oh so slowly pushed into your virgin pussy.

“God.” He grunted through clenched teeth. “Look at my pretty pussy, all f’me.”

“All for you Ani.” You bucked up into his hand, begging for him to pump his thick digit into you.

“You want it? My baby girl wants me to fuck her open with my fingers?” He wasn’t asking, he was just trying to humiliate you.

“Yes!” You whimpered, clenching around him at his condescending tone.

“Squeezing me so tight darlin’.” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Couldn’t even get another finger in.”

“Anakin, please.” You whined, “please I need more.”

At that he hooked his finger and began dragging the tip across the spongey wall of your pussy, drawing circles as he pumped in and out. Keening at the new sensation had you gripping the sheets hard enough to rip them.

“Can’t baby,” he moaned, “just gotta wait, be patient.”

“No. Anakin!” You whined, reaching down to grab his wrist.

His free hand blocking yours before you could even get halfway.

“Did you just tell me no?” He growled, you shook your head, desperate to shove those words back in your mouth and swallow them.

“You want more? Fine.” He said sternly, “I’ll give you more.”

He immediately started fucking his long digit into your soaked cunt with such fervor that you had to reach above you and grab the head board for support. Without missing a beat he came up from his resting position and towered over your small frame.

“Where did my sweet little girl go huh? It’s like you’re trying to get punished.” He sighed, as if disappointed.

Attacking your mouth with his, you could taste yourself on his tongue as it forced its way past your teeth.

And just like that, with your tongue trapped between his teeth to prevent you from screaming he wrapped his large hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply the second he felt your cunt clamp down on him. Drawing out your second orgasm with a ridiculous amount of force. Your thighs closing when he didn’t remove his hand, still pumping his finger at jackhammer pace.

“Don’t.” He broke away from your lips and wrenched your legs back apart. “You wanted more, so take it you fucking brat.”

“M’sorry Ani!” You whined, pulling him closer with your arms around his neck. “So sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Anakin dove into your neck, sucking in the gentle slope near your shoulder. He was ignoring you in hopes you’d keep apologizing, as disgusting as it was he was getting off on the sounds of your worried voice, it made him feel powerful. You were just his little puppet right now, and he was your puppeteer.

“I wanna be your good girl, please!” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Please don’t be mad with me Daddy, please I promise to be good.”

Just as he was feeling on top of the world with his baby girl trapped under his thumb, he was shrinking, melting from the one word you’d uttered like a prayer. His eyebrows shot up along with his head, eyes wide as he looked down at you. He softened immediately, and you held back a smirk now that you’d discovered this was his weakness.

“Oh my pretty baby,” he cooed, his hand caressing your side lightly, “you are a good girl.” He leaned down catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Really?” You sniffled.

“Yes really,” he sighed, “my baby doesn’t need punishment does she?”

You agreed, shaking your head with a pouty lip and gripping his sandy locks between your fingers.

“Just need Daddy’s cock don’t you baby doll?”

Tag-List:

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#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #darth vader #darth vader smut #star wars #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #skywalker family #star wars fanfiction #starwars fandom

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vampirzina · 2 months

Note

could you please write something nsfw with smoke, him getting riled up because he had a dream horny about his partner and seeing her just chilling around the house is enough to get him flustered again thinking about it.. thank you!!!

☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ ┊Fog. (nsfw)

Tomas finds himself in a tough situation… A kind of fog, if you will… tomas vrbada x reader

tw: fem!reader (but only ‘you/your’ used), nsfw, mdni, established relationship, oneshot (?), dry humping

notes: good news for mk11 yearners: i have added that timelines’ raiden (previously was only fujin)! so if you have any requests about raiden, it would help to specify which, but i will always assume new era raiden. all love, and enjoy your fic anon!

masterlist

Tomas’ abstinence brought on by rigorous work gave more than just focus on the future and perfected skills as a Shirai Ryu ninja and teacher. Yet when the day was done, his head was always free to roam elsewhere. Perhaps that’s why he’s having this dream about you right now.

All the fleeting thoughts he had about you that he pushed away hadn’t been going away, like it should’ve, but settling into a damp dream. A dream where he’d get you in the sheets, and do what he’s been wanting to do to you for weeks now.

Tomas lets out a misty sigh.

Your featherlight touch that smoothed its way up his arm stop at his biceps to give them each a loving squeeze. You smile keenly from below him, “Finally… Was wondering when you’d come to me.”

“Sorry, baby. I really am. Kuai Liang and the others need me,” he’d apologize with more than just his words. Tomas’ solid want pushes further into your clothed core—it was whatever you wore to bed the night of this dream that only made him realize how badly he wanted you further… Not that this is anything you don’t usually wear. It’s you yourself, always, clothed or not, making everything infinitely more hotter.

You hum, sounding unconvinced but you know it was true. “I don’t know why you do the things you do. What made you think you could last so long without this? Remember when you came just from me sitting here?”

Tomas caught the moan in his throat as his hips bucked into your hands that touched his lap, then his inner thigh that’s dangerously close to his begging dick. You give that tender spot on him a squeeze, too. Steel eyes don’t leave your lust-squinted ones as you take in his wound up state—poor Tomas, you think. Between the two of you, only one of you knows it’s just a dream.

Still.

“Mmh—bring yourself... Like this,” you slide your hands up and across to his hips, guiding them right where you wanted them against you. “We have all night to do what you want. But fuck me like this, first.”

If that’s what you want, he’ll do it. Just as long as it’s touching you in some way, making you feed his eyes and therefore his carnal lust-ridden mind—he’ll do it. Tomas readily repositions his hands on your hips to bring you flush to him—you mewl when you feel him throb firmly there—and he pulls you secure atop of him as he takes your previous place on the pillows.

Tomas is so into this, he doesn’t realize the pictures on the wall blur or look any different than what is normally of them; or that the nightstand you use to rest the lamp on is void, yet the room is painted in a warm golden hue. He’s completely shrouded in his minds’ fog to give those constants the time of day.

Instead, he focuses on using his hands on your hips to grind you over and over his clothed crotch, as close as the universe would allow. He curses under his breath when you moan just the way he likes, unyielding and sweetly, the feeling you clench around yourself spurring him on to use you to get off.

Your sounds are impeded by Tomas’ roughness, only going octaves higher when he begins to thrust himself in sync to his guidance of your frame. Your entire body jerks with each new motion of friction. With the increasing pace of his work, Tomas can feel your wetness soak through your clothes and stain his dick through his own—he bites his lip at the sound of cloth dulling from the shared juices of your arousals.

Your hands don’t know where to go, other than his own over your hips and his chest. He was gripping so tight there, you didn’t need to ponder if you’d bruise later.

You felt him close, hearing him closer. Tomas’ could hardly breathe beyond this point. You cry out for him, and he grunts in return when he feels your pulsing orgasm. It’s almost too much for you once it wanes, and you begin to writhe in his grasp. He wanted to tell you to hold out a little longer for him, that he’s close, but something was off when you leaned down to kiss him.

He could have swore he felt the kiss a second ago…

…But it was much different when he woke. The room was a late morning’s blue, your side of the bed was finely tussled with, but it gave no clues as to where you’ve gone. Usually, you would be there to kiss his eyes awake. Instead, essentially—you left him a quiet morning in contrast to moments ago.

It took a moment to register, that you weren’t even bedside, let alone in the room at all. Tomas realizes now, by the sudden appearance of the nightstand not obscured by your beautiful frame, that it were a dream.

How embarrassing.

Tomas could only wonder if you were witness to any of that, as he’d clean himself up and promptly find different boxers to wear; those ones were only a bit stained from his dream from his rock-solid wood that he’ll have to work out later.

Tomas knew that he couldn’t go on like this, and knew that even if you were his, it was still wildly inappropriate. Perhaps he was better off just asking you, because surely you were saving yourself for that moment in real life, too, right?

Regardless.

Tomas had found where you’d gone when he ambled out of the room to see you lounging away on the couch, your attention away from the room and subsequently him coming out of it. You didn’t expect him to wake anytime soon, but alas. You finally noticed him in your peripheral, just as he passed you.

“Good morning, lazy,” you call from your spot, not looking away from whatever it was that you were doing. “You look like you’re spending your day off right. How was the sleep in?”

Tomas, unable to make simple eye contact with you now, hummed affirmatively. You would’ve taken that if you didn’t hear him exhale so loudly the way that he did.

Now you look up… He looks frustrated. Troubled. You had guessed that he would be when he woke, figuring that the small moans, red face and squirming in his sleep would do it. You could smirk to yourself, if it didn’t have the chance to give you away on what you saw in the middle of the night. Instead you remain silent.

Tomas can’t even make his food without his thoughts churning.

You were still wearing that, the same clothes in his dream. Your tone of voice, identical to the teasing one you used on him. How would you feel, if he wanted to ruin his clothes again with you? Except—no barrier for you, this time. He wanted you bent over the armchair, forget the mattress.

Thoroughly red all over again, Tomas barely catches himself staring at you—and the utensil he was grabbing—and he clumsily curses. He was lucky that you weren’t paying attention (or so he thinks). He apologizes to no-one, and sighs.

“I wasn’t sure why you were out of it all last night, but I’m glad to know it’s because of me, Tomas,” you only joke, tilting your head to the side. But the joke makes Tomas shamefully, sheepishly grin.

“Lucky for you, we have the whole day to fix that.”

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #vampirzina

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dcllzai · 1 month

Text

A Surprise Engagement

Fyodor Dostoyevsky x Fem!reader. SFW. Suspected angst---> fluff / it's you and your long-term boyfriend, Fyodor's, anniversary, but he hasn't texted you or said a word to you all day...has he forgotten? It has been said by Asagiri that for White Day Fyodor would give you an entire land or country so I decided to do something based on that :)

You awoke with a yawn, stretching your muscles as you sat in bed. You stayed silent and still for a moment, taking in the morning's peace with a pleased sigh. It wasn't long until it hit you though, today was your sixth anniversary with your boyfriend, Fyodor! You suddenly felt your stomach flip in excitement and you were filled with a rush of butterflies. You jumped out of bed, already planning your outfit for the day as you prepared to shower. The day was passing by and you were still waiting to hear from your lover. You texted him but got no response, not even a 'Good morning' or an 'I love you'. You tried to push away the nagging feeling at the back of your mind but it kept lingering. After several hours of this, you were starting to doubt if you and Fyodor were even going to spend the day together. You began to grow frustrated and worried. You began to feel anxious as the day went by. The feelings of doubt and fear crept into your mind and made you think that your entire relationship was in jeopardy. You felt lost and alone, thinking you may have done something wrong or that Fyodor no longer loved you. Your anxiety filled your head as the hours passed and still, not even a slight word from Fyodor. You were about to give up on the day when you heard the sound of keys in the lock. Your heart immediately picked up its pace as you looked to the door, your mind already imagining it was Fyodor. You stayed still and silent as the sound of the keys, reached your ears, waiting for the next move Your ears perked up as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest with each step. It could be anyone, but you wanted it to be Fyodor. You hoped it was Fyodor. The person outside the door finally stopped and stood still, waiting to see what would happen. You stayed still, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. Could this be it? Was he finally here? Did he remember? The outside presence remained silent for a few moments before the door handle slowly began to turn. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as the person outside the door began to open it. You stayed still and silent as the door opened slowly, you wanted to move, you wanted to run out and hug whoever was behind that door, but you knew you couldn't. You had to remain still and see who was at the other side of that door before you could do anything

The person behind the door opened it fully finally and you saw who it was. The person standing in the doorway was none other than Fyodor, the man you thought had forgotten your anniversary. You let out a small gasp at the sight. He looked so calm and serene as he stepped towards you, taking your hands into his own. You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. You were surprised and overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of Fyodor, not knowing that he was planning a surprise all along. You felt a rush of emotions sweep over you and your heart rate quickened as you stood before Fyodor. You couldn't believe it, he was here. "Happy anniversary, my love," Fyodor whispered as he took your hands into his own. You stayed silent, completely taken aback. You were still unsure of what to say, you were filled with many emotions, all fighting to be at the forefront of your mind. You had so many things to say but you couldn't get any of the words out. All you could do was take in the sight of your lover before you, the emotions filling you with a warmth you hadn't felt for a while. Fyodor chuckled softly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, feeling the softness of your skin. He could tell you were surprised and overwhelmed by the sudden appearance. "Don't tell me that you thought I'd forgotten, Y/N dear" Fyodor said playfully. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to react. You felt her cheeks blushing with embarrassment as she realized just how worried you were about your anniversary being forgotten. "I thought you'd forgotten completely," You confessed quietly, your face continuing to burn. You felt like a complete fool, having spent the whole day thinking that your anniversary was over and Fyodor had forgotten. Your emotions were a mixed bag and you felt so embarrassed for thinking the worst of Fyodor. "I could never forget something so important to me, Dear" Fyodor said lovingly as he looked into your eyes. He rubbed your hand as he held it in his own and you felt your heart beating softly. "I had a surprise prepared for you," Fyodor continued, his playful attitude falling away as he went on about his plans. He smiled gently at you, noticing the blush on your cheeks and the look of embarrassment. You and Fyodor had been walking towards the mountain for a while now, holding hands as you both walked. It had been almost an hour of peaceful walking before you reached your destination. Fyodor stopped them at the edge of the mountain, looking at the scenery before the both of you. The sunset was starting to set over the horizon, and the sky was turning a vibrant red as the sun began to dip below the mountain. You were taking in the view, awed by the beauty of the landscape before you. You both stayed silent for a moment, taking in the sight. Fyodor stayed silent, staring off into the sunset for a moment as he cleared his throat. You continued to stare out at the landscape, not realizing what was about to happen. You didn't notice the slight shift as Fyodor got down on one knee, removing something from his pocket. There was a soft click of the thing he pulled out as he opened it up in his palm, revealing a small box. You realized the movement and snapped your head around. You saw that he was kneeling before you and that he had something, you realized that it was a box. Your stomach dropped for a moment as you realized that Fyodor was going to propose. You felt your heartbeat speeding up as you stared down at him, feeling all of the emotions wash over you all at once.

Fyodor opened the box and you saw the beautiful engagement ring inside of it. It glimmered softly in the light of the sunset and you felt the warm sensation of your face turning red again. Fyodor looked up at you with an intense look in his eyes, his expression one of pure love. "Will you marry me?" He asked softly, holding out the ring for you to see.

You gasped, it was so pretty, and you only had one answer. "I do."

#★﹐Alice writes．﹗﹑#bsd #bsd writing #bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd fyodor #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd ships

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

Ok, so reincarnation/soulmates? Reader ate some fruit that basically has them living forever, and the only thing keeping them going is knowing that Law will eventually be reincarnated every decade or so after he passes. Each time he meets our dear reader again he can FEEL a pulling.

Reader also has a collection of pictures/memorabilia to remind her of each of Law’s lives.

YES I am such a sucker for the "souls intertwined so completely that they find each other over and over" also listened to 'The Moon Will Sing' by the Crane Wives bc it slaps and its always applied to that kind of relationship so OUGH

[Heads up!: mention of reincarnation/multiple lives, angst if you squint, but mostly some fluff]

You've known him for a very long time.

You don't tell him that, you never do ㅡ you can't. All you do is let yourself orbit towards him the way he does to you, let yourself take comfort in the time you have with him, however fleeting.

It isn't like you have a choice. And even in the darker times where you have to be without him, endure that lonely, phantom limb of an ache ㅡ you take solace in combing through the things you've kept of this go around.

A pendant, a dried flower pressed between the pages of a book, pages yellowed by the years ㅡ little scraps that keep you grounded, keep you sane.

Time has forgotten you, cursed you to stand against the current of it ㅡ you see people come and go, make new names for yourself, sink into as best you can.

But you never forget him.

ㅡ

This time, his name is Trafalgar Law.

He doesn't remember you, he never does ㅡ as is the deal ㅡ and he's already been through so much by the time you meet him.

His eyes are bright and sharp even for the perpetual shadows beneath them, body inked with tattoos that make you wonder if he knows he's had them before, different symbols but same spots ㅡ little pieces that echo through the vast emptiness of time.

Having lost so much already, you can tell he fights that familiar pull, treats it with wariness and caution. You don't push him, let him take things at his own pace.

When you've lived as long as you have, you have patience in spades.

ㅡ

"You're sure we've never met before?"

It's bothering him, the odd tickle of deja vu that he feels when he looks at you. It lingers like an image on the edge of his periphery, fleeting and gone when he tries to focus on it.

"I doubt it," you say, "I was born on a different sea." It isn't a lie ㅡ he just doesn't need to know how long ago that was. "I've never met you in my life before now."

Another not quite lie ㅡ this version of him is entirely new to you. New and yet so much the same ㅡ as he always has been, over and over.

You regard him with a little bit of sadness, Law realizes. Bittersweet and tucked at the edges, like you know something he doesn't ㅡ and only when you think he doesn't know you're staring at him. Because when he looks at you properly, all you do is smile.

And despite it all, Law lets you in. Lets you smooth the ragged edges, lets you wiggle your way in where he swore he'd never let anyone be ever again.

Law thinks he's destined to lose people, and maybe that's true ㅡ but so are you. You know that your time with him is fleeting as it ever is, between one blink and the next.

And then you'll be alone for a while, tread the waters of time as you have before, let the current take you where it needs to. Then you'll find each other again, eternally bound to each other by forces outside the control of either of you.

You've loved him a hundred times, and you know you'll love him a hundred more and beyond that ㅡ but this version of him is your favorite, you think.

And for whatever time you're allowed this go around, you'll give him every bit of love that you can, all the flaws and hurt and heartbreak ㅡ all of it.

You'll love every bit of him as you always have, and you always will.

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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jgoddesstarot · 8 months

Text

Pick-A-Pile: Moon & Stars | Aspects of Compatibility Between You & Your Future Spouse's Natal Charts

👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊

✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨

🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.

🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: 4 of Swords, The World, 8 of Swords, Page of Wands (in reverse), and 5 of Wands.

Oracle Cards: 4th House: Home & Family, Libra: The Beautiful Mind, On Sunday.

Welcome, my Pile 1's. Let's dive deep and explore what the cards have to say about the compatibility between you and your future spouse's natal charts. Starting with the 4 of Swords, it suggests a need for rest and retreat. In regards to compatibility, it signifies that you both will find comfort and solace in each other's presence. A sense of peace will prevail when you two are together.

Moving onto The World, this card is all about completion and fulfillment. It suggests that you will find a sense of wholeness with your future spouse. You might have different backgrounds or perspectives, but together, you form a complete picture. You compliment each other and that's something truly special.

As for the 8 of Swords, this card often represents a feeling of being trapped or restricted. However, in the context of your future compatibility, it signifies that both of you will help each other overcome personal fears and limitations. You both will act as each other's catalyst, pushing one another towards growth and self-improvement.

The Page of Wands in reverse indicates a certain level of immaturity or impatience. This suggests that there might be occasional conflicts due to a lack of maturity or understanding. However, with the 5 of Wands in the spread, it indicates that these conflicts will be resolved through communication and mutual respect.

The Oracle cards further paint a picture of your compatibility. The 4th House: Home & Family card suggests that family will play a significant role in your relationship. Libra: The Beautiful Mind adds another layer, hinting at a strong intellectual connection between you two. Lastly, 'On Sunday' suggests that your bond will be characterized by a sense of peace, tranquility, and a slower pace of life.

In conclusion, my dear Pile 1's, your future spouse is someone who will complement you in every way. While there might be occasional conflicts, you both will find a way through them. Your relationship will be based on peace, intellectual connection, and family values. So, keep your heart open and let the magic of love weave its spell. After all, it's all about finding that perfect harmony in the dance of love.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: 9 of Wands, Ace of Swords, The Tower (in reverse), Knight of Wands, and The Magician.

Oracle Cards: 12th House: Spirituality & Art, 7th House: Love & Partnership, 3rd House: Communication & Interaction.

My dear Pile 2's, let's delve into the mystical realm of your future spouse's compatibility with you. The 9 of Wands card is our first clue, suggesting a bond that can withstand the test of time. You both are resilient, standing strong in the face of adversity. Challenges may come, but together you can handle anything.

Next, the Ace of Swords presents itself, symbolizing a relationship rooted in truth and clear communication. Intellectual stimulation and honesty are key themes in your connection. Your future spouse will be someone who values communication as much as you do, leading to a bond that is transparent and filled with clarity.

The Tower card, in reverse, signals a turnaround from a rocky phase. This tells me that while there may be initial hiccups or misunderstandings, these will be resolved, leading to a stronger and more stable relationship. It's almost as if these trials come to strengthen your bond, not break it.

The Knight of Wands suggests an energetic, passionate connection. There's a lot of movement here, perhaps indicating travel or shared adventures. This energy, when combined with The Magician card, speaks of a relationship that's full of potential and creativity. You both will have the power to manifest your desires and create the life you dream of together.

The Oracle cards further add depth to this narrative. The 12th House: Spirituality & Art implies a shared interest in the esoteric or artistic avenues. You may find common ground in spirituality or creative expression, strengthening your bond further. The 7th House: Love & Partnership confirms a deep love-based relationship, while the 3rd House: Communication & Interaction reiterates the importance of open dialogue and mutual understanding.

In conclusion, my dear Pile 2's, your future spouse and you are set to create an energetic, passionate relationship. The cards speak of resilience, clear communication, and a bond that grows stronger with trials. A shared love of spirituality or art and an emphasis on partnership and communication will be your strengths. So, brace yourself for an exciting journey of love, growth, and shared adventures.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards: 10 of Swords, 8 of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and Judgement.

Oracle Cards: Scorpio: The Mystic, 10th House: Career & Success, Sextile: Change & Opportunity

Greetings, my beloved Pile 3's! Let us embark on a mesmerizing journey into the mystical realm that your cards unveil. The 10 of Swords, the harbinger of transformation, reveals an enchanting path for your relationship. Embrace this card's message of endings and new beginnings. Fear not, for it signifies that you and your future spouse will evolve and flourish together, casting away old patterns and embarking on a wondrous voyage of mutual understanding and growth.

Now, behold the 8 of Wands, a card brimming with optimism and vibrant energy. It foretells rapid growth in your connection. Imagine the sparks igniting the moment you meet, a magnetic force drawing you closer. This immediate connection shall swiftly blossom into a profound and profound bond.

Let us not forget the Pentacle cards, the Knight, Queen, and 3 of Pentacles, which weave a captivating tale of stability and shared values. The Knight of Pentacles represents a steadfast and reliable partner, cherishing loyalty and hard work. This essence resonates with the Queen of Pentacles, a nurturing figure who values stability and security. The 3 of Pentacles further signifies a robust partnership built on common aspirations and mutual respect.

Ah, the final Tarot card, Judgement, a powerful symbol of realization and awakening. It signifies that your future spouse and you will deeply understand one another, unlocking a profound awakening that leads to personal and joint growth.

Now, let us delve into your Oracle cards. Behold Scorpio: The Mystic, a testament to the profound emotional bond and magnetic attraction between the two of you. The 10th House: Career & Success, a clear sign that your relationship will play a pivotal role in each other's professional achievements. And the Sextile: Change & Opportunity, perfectly aligned with the Tarot, promising a relationship adorned with opportunities for growth and transformation.

In conclusion, my cherished Pile 3's, your future spouse awaits in a realm of transformative passion. Together, you shall embark on a journey of mutual growth, understanding, and shared values. The cards whisper of a thrilling adventure, where rapid growth, abundant opportunities, and resounding success intertwine. Brace yourselves for an extraordinary voyage filled with love, magic, and boundless excitement!

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 9 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame. “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he��d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

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albertasunrise · 8 months

Text

Back to Reality - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy 😘)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

You gawked at Ben as the piece of information he'd given you set in. Frankie. Your Frankie thought you were dead. Ben watched you closely as a myriad of emotions flitted across your face. His arms gently bounced Esme as she settled against his firm chest and fell asleep once more. He knew this was a difficult idea to process but he also knew that you had to understand that Frank was delicate right now and needed time to assimilate this world instead of the one he'd been trapped in for weeks.

"Titch?" He piped up after you had been silent a while, his eyes searching your face for any sort of understanding.

"He thinks I'm dead?" You asked and he nodded grimly "What?… How?… What do you mean?"

"When he woke the first time, he was sobbing about how he was going to see 'her' again. Initially, I had thought he meant Mel but it soon became clear it was you he was talking about." Ben answered as he rested his cheek against the crown of Emse's head "The doctor believes that when he was in a coma he was dreaming but aspects of reality trickled in." He continued "So those days we sat by his bedside and you asked him to come back to you, he could hear you. Or I suppose the ghost of you."

You couldn't hold back the sob that fell from your lips. Your heart shattered completely and you sank to the floor as you processed what Ben had said.

"So all that time he's been living in a world where I died and he's had to raise little Esme all alone." It wasn't a question. It was just you stating a simple fact and Ben could do nothing but watch as you fell apart on the clinical hospital floor.

"Titch, I know this is a lot to take in and I know your first instinct is probably to run back in there and try a convince him that this world is real and that you are too but…"

"I know what you're going to say, Ben." You interrupted "He's fragile and we need to be careful with him. I get it!" You snapped "I will stay away."

"That's not what I am saying." Ben groaned as he carefully lowered himself onto the ground beside you, his large hand cradling Esme's head as he slid down the lino-covered wall "He just needs a few days to adjust. He's been in a coma for close to two months. He's confused and it's going to take a few days for the fog to clear. So perhaps we ease him into this gently."

You nodded, knocking a few tears loose with the action and Ben smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"He's back with us Titch and he's getting better." Ben stated as he nuzzled the downy hair on Esme's head "You and him and Esme are going to be a family but he's still got a road ahead of him."

You nodded, taking Ben's free hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We just need to help him walk it. At whatever pace he can manage."

The next few days were torture. You avoided the hospital like the plague, handing Emse off to Ben each day so that he could take her to see Frankie. You knew he was going to try and get Frankie to come around to the fact that you are real. That this isn't a dream but Frank was out of it during his visits. They had kept him mildly sedated in order to keep him calm as he got used to being awake. Ben and Will watched as his awareness slowly but surely ebbed its way through. Fish became a little more coherent with each visit.

"You think you feel up to holding her today?" Asked Ben as he took the bottle of water Frankie had been sipping from off of the man and placed it on the table "She seems smaller than I remember." The man said and Ben shared a look with Will.

"Remember what we talked about yesterday Catfish?" Will asked as he perched on the bed "You've been sleeping for a while and what you remember of Esme was a dream."

Frank's brows drew together as he tried to remember the conversation in question. Things were still so fuzzy. Memories felt heavy but he tried to figure out which ones were real and which ones were just a coma-induced fantasy.

"Who's been taking care of Esme whilst I've been gone?" He asked, his voice quiet and uncertain as his eyes flitted between the two Miller brothers.

"Titch has been." Ben stated "She woke up a few days after you had your heart attack." He continued as he placed his hand on his friend's and squeezed in in a reassuring gesture "She really wants to see you… She's missed you like crazy."

Frank just closed his eyes and shook his head as a few silent tears slipped down his flushed cheeks "Why would you say that to me." He choked "Why give me hope when there isn't any."

"Fish I am telling you the god's honest truth." Ben urged "Titch didn't die. It was all a dream."

"Ben." Will piped up, giving his younger brother a look that silently said 'That's enough.'

"I would like to hold my daughter now." Frankie stated plainly and Benny nodded, smiling down at little Esme as he scooped her up and placed her into her father's waiting arms.

The pilot beamed as he looked down at his daughter and it was the first time in days that either Miller brother had witnessed genuine joy from the older man.

"Hello, princessa." He cooed as he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose "You are so pretty." He resumed as he stroked her plump cheek with the tip of his pointer finger "Just like your mumma."

"Titch is such a natural with her man." Ben beamed as he watched the scene unfold "Seems to know what Esme wants before she even cries. It's mad." He chuckled but Frankie didn't look at him. Didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken.

Ben's shoulders visibly shrank at that.

Will motioned for Ben to follow him as he stood from where he had perched on the bed and made his way out into the hall, letting the pilot know they'd be back in a moment before stepping far enough away that they were out of earshot.

"I think we need to bring Titch to visit." Will stated plainly.

"But he still doesn't believe she's alive." Ben argued, glancing at the man through the glass wall of his cubical before returning his attention to Will.

"He's stable. The doctor said today that his vitals are strong and he's confident that the worst is behind." Will stated as he scraped a hand over his short blonde hair "I think it's time we bring her here. So that he can see for himself that she's alive and well."

"I don't know Will." Ben replied, shaking his head as he thought about it "You remember how he was last time he saw her."

"He had just woken up from a 7-week coma and he was confused." Wil growled "He is now awake, lucid and talking so I think now is the time to rip that bandaid off. We're gonna need to eventually"

Ben nodded. He knew his brother was right. Frankie was going to have to see you at some point and he had promised you that it was a few days that Fish needed to get himself used to this reality. Well, those 'few days' had long passed.

"Fine." Ben conceded "I will bring her with me tomorrow when I come to see him with Titchy." He replied "You're right."

"I know." Will teased as he gave his bother a friendly pat on the arm "Happens more often than you think."

"Shut up." Ben grumbled before they returned to the pilot's room.

"Are you sure about this Ben?" You asked as he led the way to Frankie's room.

When he had said it was time you visited with him and Esme you had been sceptical. You didn't want to go through another ordeal like the one you had experienced before. In just over a week you had witnessed him go into cardiac arrest and then wake up and beg you to leave him alone.

You weren't sure how much more your heart could take.

"Will said that it's time we rip that bandaid off and I agree." He stated simply as they came to the ICU "He's stable and getting stronger every day so I think it's time he starts to get used to the idea that you are very much alive and kicking."

"Your arse if this doesn't go well." You added and he chuckled.

"Fair enough."

You stopped outside Frankie's cubicle and noted he was sleeping and you felt yourself grow more and more nervous by the second. Ben didn't need to look at you to see this.

"I will go in, and let him know he has a visitor. Give me a few minutes okay?" He said softly as he placed a comforting hand on your arm "I'll wave at you to come in when he's ready okay?"

You simply nodded and watched as Ben stepped inside the glass room, his smile growing wide as Frankie's eyes cracked open and fixed on him.

…

"How are you feeling this morning brother?" He asked as he sat himself down beside his friend.

"Little stronger today." The pilot answered and Ben grinned at his reply.

"That's good Fishcakes." He chucked when the pilot groaned at the nickname "Feeling up to a visitor?" He asked and Frankie gave him a perplexed look "Titch is here." Ben stated and Frankie's eyes widened "She really wants to see you." He finished as he looked over his shoulder at you stood in the ward as you fidgetted with your hands.

Frankie's eyes followed Ben's and his eyes widened further as he saw you standing there.

"You can see her?" He asked Ben and the younger man chuckled.

"Course I can."

"She's really there?" He asked and Ben just smiled at him sweetly and nodded before motioning to you to come in.

You nervously stepped inside. Esme's carrier in one hand and the other pushing the glass door open. Your eyes never left Franks. Not even when you placed the carrier down on the floor beside you. The two of you just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Ben finally spoke up.

"I'll leave you two to catch up." He said as he picked up Esme "We're gonna go say hi to Esme's fans… Aren't with Titchy." He said as his voice adopted that high-pitched tone that was only for her.

Neither of you looked away as he left. You just continued to stare like it had been years rather than weeks without seeing or speaking to each other. When you couldn't take the silence anymore you spoke up whilst taking a seat at his bedside.

"How are you doing?" You asked, your voice quiet and timid as you searched his face for something.

"Stronger." He replied simply and you nodded "Still confused."

"I bet." You replied, trying to lighten the mood that had settled over the room "I'm so happy you're awake."

"Am I?" He asked and it was your turn to look confused "What if this is some sort of coma-induced dream?"

"Frankie-"

"How do I know that this isn't just my dying brain showing me what it is I want to see?"

Silent tears slipped down your cheeks as you and him just continued to stare at each other.

"I want to believe this is real." He hicupped as his own tears started to fall "I want to believe that the woman I love is alive and sitting right in front of me but I can't."

"I am real." You urged as you grabbed his hand and brought it to your face "Does this feel real to you?"

"Everything there felt real too!" He stated as he snatched his hand away "The pain… The heartbreak… All of that felt so real."

You sobbed loudly then as he continued.

"The pain I felt when that car struck me… it was so real. The pain of not being able to breathe as I lay there dying felt so real and I…" He trailed off but you knew what he was going to say.

He had been ready to die.

"What can I do to convince you that this is real?" You sobbed as you hugged yourself.

"I don't know." Frankie answered honestly "I don't want to accept this, that you are here right now, alive and well only for me to wake up one day in a different hospital bed and realise that it wasn't real. I can't lose you again."

"That's not going to happen!" You pleaded but he just shook his head.

"I wish I could believe that."

You were saved by the Ben.

The younger Miller strolled in with a grinning Esme in his arms and you quickly wiped away your tears and schooled your features.

"Titchy here is quick the chick magnet." Ben chuckled as he bounced her and she smiled widely as she shyly shoved her head in his chest "Awe… You weren't all shy a minute ago."

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to willingly babysit when I go back to work?" You chuckled and the man just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Because I'm an amazing uncle?"

"That you are." You said fondly as you took Esme from him "Time for someone's lunch you said as you sat down again and pulled down your tank top. Smiling as Esme eagerly latched to your breast and started to suckle.

Ben watched a moment in fondness before his eyes travelled over to Frankie who was watching in awe. His eyes were red and teary. From what, Ben wasn't sure but he did wonder if it was partly due to the beautiful spectacle of you breastfeeding Titchy.

He had been able to sense as soon as he walked in that your reunion hadn't been what you had hoped. So instead of prying, he tried to bring some joy and Titchy was nothing but pure joy in his eyes. He knew that both you and Frankie would talk about what had happened when you were ready. He wasn't going to push the subject. He knew this was going to take time and he was there for the ride.

So in the following weeks, You visited with Ben, hoping that each visit would bring him around to the idea that you were alive and that this wasn't some fever dream.

Then when the doctor announced that Frankie was well enough to go home, Ben helped you move into the pilot's house. You had figured he would be more comfortable in his own environment but he still needed help. He was getting stronger every day but he still had days where he felt rough and bone tired.

"Can I get you anything else?" You asked as you walked into the lounge and placed the freshly brewed coffee you'd made for him down on the table beside him.

Today was one of Frank's worse days. But he hadn't wanted to stay cooped up in bed. So you had helped him to the couch that you had set up with pillows and soft blankets. Esme was now napping on his bare chest, skin-on-skin time being something he had demanded the moment he had gotten home. You couldn't help but glance at the large scar between his pectorals. It was healing well but still looked pink and slightly angry. It was a clean cut. Almost a perfect straight line, right down the centre of his chest. The surgeon had said he was sure that with time, the scar would fade to the point that he almost wouldn't notice it but Frankie hadn't really cared all that much.

He was littered with scars from battle after all.

"No, thank you." Frankie replied as he glanced up at you and smiled before returning his attention to the drooling baby on his chest "She's so perfect." He stated as you sat down on the armchair across from him "I still can't believe that you and me made her."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." You chuckled "I still have to pinch myself on the daily because I can't believe she's real." You flinched at your statement, internally scorning yourself for your choice of words but Frank didn't appear to be phased.

"I hope she is." Was all he said as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at his precious angel.

You watched him for a while. Admiring how much of a natural he was with her. Since getting him back home you had started to express, allowing him to do some of the feeds whilst you cooked or cleaned, whatever needed doing.

Frankie did what he could on the days he felt well enough but on the days that he didn't you know he was torturing himself. He hated how weak he felt. This was a man who had never been afforded the opportunity to be weak. He was expected to be strong every day of his life. To walk away from battle even if he'd taken a bullet to the leg.

"I never told you how wonderful Esme Nursery is!" You said after a little while "You didn't such a wonderful job. Especially as you were squeezing it in between caring for her and visiting me in the hospital."

This made Frankie pause and he blinked up at you as he studied you closely.

"Ben told me that if you weren't with me at the hospital or caring for Esme, you were spending every waking moment getting that nursery finished."

"I had to keep myself distracted." He replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he remembered how every time he'd closed his eyes, he pictured you as your face paled and your eyes had drooped. The alarms had rung in his ears for days.

"I know it must have been really hard for you, Fish." You said softly as you gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Not as hard as it's been for you." You didn't react to this.

This was the first time he'd acknowledged you and what you had likely been through whilst he'd been in a coma. He had still been weary of believing you were real. The odd comment here or there making it clear to you that he still didn't believe this was real.

But you could see that he wanted to.

"I don't want this to end." He whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it but you didn't.

"It won't." You replied with a smile.

Frankie glanced at you and noted a new expression you'd not seen before. Something that almost looked like hope so you hoped that your next statement would give him that.

"We're here to stay."

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

#frankie morales × reader #frankie morales × you #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales triple frontier #francisco morales × you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales × reader #triple frontier × you #triple frontier × reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note:

Chapter 10: Spool of green, spool of black.

Helaena did not tell you why your uncle had asked after you, and you spent the rest of your day pondering his intentions. You knew that if he truly wished to know of your wellbeing, there was nothing stopping him from breaking into your chambers again.

Your feet, although for the most part healed, were still sensitive to walk upon, though it was now a more manageable pain rather than the excruciating agony before.

The large gashes were now shallow wounds that no longer split with every step, or seeped blood into your bandages. The smaller cuts were now shiny pink scars, raised on the delicate flesh of your soles when your brushed you hands against them.

Your day was spent like most others, lounging in your chambers, reading, pacing and imagining the sweet images of the Hightowers demise. You found that the days spent in your chambers had made you grown more bitter and resentful of them.

How much longer would you hide away in your chambers? How much longer would you cower? Are you not the blood of the mighty House Targaryen? Are not not the blood of Old Valyria? You paced as you worked yourself up.

Approaching your door, you asked the Knight of the Kings Guard stationed outside to summon the maids to prepare for you for dinner. No more hiding, you chastised yourself.

Once Aella arrived first, you asked her to send word to your mother and father that you would be joining them to sup for the evening and not soon after, Saria arrived to tidy your appearance, re-braiding your hair and helping you to put your shoes on.

The sun's last rays shone through your window, casting a soft warmth into your chambers. The fire was lit and crackled softly into the room. The air felt cool on your skin, and you were thankful for the long sleeved gown.

As Saria and Aella began to tidy your room, you dismissed them, asking for them to be back in your chambers later in the evening to ready you for bed.

Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon's chambers were not far from yours, sitting in the same wing of the Red Keep as you. As you walked you thought of the chambers. You had grown up in them and spent much of your time there. You wondered if Alicent had changed them to spite your mother or if it would be untouched like yours.

Once you arrived, your mothers knight announced your arrival to the room as you entered. As you looked about, you noticed the room was the same as before, unchanged by time or petty grievances, and was still how you remembered it as a child.

The furnishings were worn, deep reds, yellows and oranges adorning the decor. A large fireplace sat in the front of the room, its fire crackling loudly into the space, flames licking at the wood inside.

The windows and balcony were all open, letting a cool breeze pass through the room, the white curtains blowing softly with each caress of the wind.

The chambers layout was similar to yours. Sitting room at the fire, chaise and armchairs with a small table sat in front of the heat, an intimate dining table further back into the space, then towards the very end of the room was the bed, large closets on each side and towering art upon all the walls.

Your mother was sitting on a chaise, Joffrey on her lap whilst young Aegon III and Viserys II silver hair shone on the floor. Both of your younger brothers seemed to have fallen asleep whilst your mother had been reading to them.

Looking up at you, Rhaenyra gave you a wide and warm smile. Gently she placed Joffrey next to her and stood, walking towards you to hold you in her arms.

“My sweet girl, how are you fairing?” She asked, holding you at arms length looking you up and down, gently leaning in to kiss your cheek thrice.

“Far better than I was before, I found I've spent most of my days sleeping.” You kissed her cheeks as she began to slowly walk you over to the chaise.

Two of your mothers maids walked into the chambers and Rhaenyra asked them to put your younger brothers to bed in the conjoined room.

Scooping the two sleeping babes, the maids quietly walked them to their bedroom, whilst Joffrey kissed your mother goodnight and gave you a rough hug. Joffrey had always been a little shy, but his love for his family was shown in his actions rather than words.

“Come sit, there is much to discuss.” You mother spoke, patting the spot beside her.

“Prince Daemon should be here soon. He has been hovering around the King all day.” She chuckled, sitting gently against the plush pillows pulling you to sit next to her.

“I know Grandsire has missed father, you could see his eyes light up when the Prince entered the room. For all their faults, their bond is unbreakable.” You spoke gently. You knew the tension between the King and the Rogue Prince has been a long one, but deep down, they both loved each other dearly.

You observed your mother. Her dress was a deep black this evening, with yellow embroidery on the sleeves and hems. Her hair was more relaxed today than her usual tight braids, instead opting to have it flow down her shoulder with two simple braids pulling some hair to the back.

“Yes, well, faults not of our own….” She trailed off, thinking before continuing, “It is strange to be home at the Red Keep," She paused, "I am not even sure I can call it that anymore. Everything has changed. A once warm Keep is now cold. Even the air around us has changed.”

“My chambers have not changed too much, it has been kept mostly the same. I was expecting to enter and have the entire walls and ceiling painted green for my enjoyment.” You sarcastically hummed.

“I would like to think that it was the Queen's kindness that left our little pieces of home the same, but I feel as though it was most likely done out of cowardice, or lack of care.” Shaking her head your mother looked at you a bit more seriously, deeply sighing at you.

“How are your feet?” She asked, voice unwavering and stern.

“My feet? Mother, th-" Your heart started to race in your chest.

“Do you think I am stupid?” She interrupted gently, her head cocked to the side.

“Of course not mother, I am j-“

“I know my daughter, and I can see when she is hurt. Although the Greens may not have caught on at breakfast, I certainly did. Then to have Jacaerys come to me concerned...” She trailed off, shaking her head before she reached forward, placing a gentle hand on your knee looking at you.

“You cannot lie to me. I did not come to you sooner as Jacaerys swore to me it was not serious.” She gave a soft smile, “Tell me this, was it Aemond who harmed you?” Tone serious again.

“No, of course not mother.” You lied, “He is nothing but empty threats. I broke a glass, and cut my feet the evening of our dinner. I had far too much wine, and was likely in the same state as Aegon.”

Your explanation was stiff and felt rehearsed, “I promise you mother, he did not touch a hair on my head, lest he feel the wrath of father.” You smiled.

“He should be more worried about me rather than his uncle Daemon. You however, would do best to avoid your uncle.”

“I have been in my room for days, mother, I am not seeking him out.” You argued, your patience waned.

“Yes, but much like your father, you do goad him. Do not poke the beast my sweet, lest you feel his fangs. I suspect Alicent is still holding onto some twisted notion of justice for his eye.”

“I thought I saw that you were both trying to make amends?” You steered the conversation away from Aemond.

“I will admit, I have missed how we used to be when we were younger, but she is not the same girl. I fear the Hightower’s carry blood that is easily tainted.”

Clearly wishing to change the conversation, you steered away from talks of the Queen and her son. You asked her how your siblings have been without you, and if she had been on dragon back around the Red Keep. She insisted you take Lucerys out to fly with Sȳndor, and you swore that you would.

Your father joined you shortly after, not announcing himself as he snuck into the room through the back of a painting near your mothers bed. You nearly shrieked when you heard him behind you.

People would often say that your father moved like smoke, quietly, quickly and then gone without a trace.

Prince Daemon placed a soft kiss atop your head, murmuring 'daughter', before coming to kiss your mothers face. The Rogue Prince continued on, walking to the dining table where he poured himself a large goblet of wine, gazing at you both as he sipped deeply before pouring another, handing it to you.

“Prince Jacaerys has been hysterical these past days without you y/n.” He drawled, gracefully sitting in a large red armchair opposite the chaise you and your mother sat.

“With the way he behaved, one would think that something terrible had happened.” He raised one brow at you and sipped at his goblet, “Dont tell me my drunken cunt of a nephew has been harassing your chambers?”

Your mother snorted. Shaking your head he continued,

“No? Then what about the one eyed wretch?”

Shaking your head once more you spoke “Neither father, Jacaerys is just overly protective.”

He hummed, speaking as though he was almost uninterested, “Regardless of what your uncles did or didn't do, my brother has been complacent, letting them grow into whining cunts like their mother. Aegon is a coward, but Aemond is emboldened in his treason knowing he has that green cunt of a whore standing behind him, whilst she feeds my brother full of milk of the poppy."

You stiffen. Daemon paused, took an angry sip of his wine, then continued, "Put that boy in his place, or take his other eye.”

“Daemon.” Your mother growled.

Your father held one hand up in surrender, changing the subject to tell you both of how the King's health continued to deteriorate.

“I would not be surprised if the Hightower cunts are slowly poisoning him.”

“That would be treason.” You suggested.

“Indeed, but never have I witnessed my brother so weak of mind and body. They keep him complacent on the Milk of the Poppy, making decisions for him, ruling the Kingdoms in his name.”

You sniffed. You had been given milk of the poppy every evening. Did the Hightower's know? Were they keeping you complacent? Was this Aemond showing his hand? You knew from that moment on, you would refuse milk of the poppy, lest you become like the King.

“Have you been rotting in your chambers all this time Princess?”

You give your father a dirty look, “I have been ill.”

He huffs out a small laugh. He sees straight through you.

“So you say, but Sȳndor has missed you greatly. His temper has been almost unmanageable,” A beat, “quite like yours.” He added teasing you.

“Oh, and I am sure it is not from seeing your great, ugly face, hovering around him daily, father.” You teased back.

You knew the Prince had a deep love for Sȳndor, much like his love for you. Your father would have been checking him daily whilst you were healing.

Putting a hand on his chest, “You wound me daughter, after all I have done for you. Perhaps I will marry you off.”

“You two are insufferable.” Your mother added.

Maids began to bring in your dinner and you all went to be seated. You three sat and ate, speaking lazily of the day's events, your parents catching you up on the days passed.

Your father asked you to join him in the future to read in the library. There were many books you had no access to read for years, and you both planned to do some revision. Your father asked about your mother and Alicent spending time together.

“And what of Alicent? You two have been cozy as of late.” Your father mocked, swirling his cup, and brushing silver strands behind his ears. “Anyone would think that you have made amends.”

“We have not made amends,” She spoke in exacerbation, “but I can see that she is trying… In her own way. Only a fool would continue to irk her and her kin,” she sharply looked to you, then back to your father,

“She has my father wrapped around her finger.”

“Yes well, it’s unfortunate that it’s not the finger on the arm that he lost.” Daemon replied, his sarcasm ever present, despite all knowing the grief he has seeing his brother so ill.

“Do not jest. We all know that the whispers at court come from her. That she is not so secretive of her disdain for us. They all still question our sons' blood. She still declares war on us daily! Do you not see the castle is donned in Hightower Greens instead of Targaryen Red?” And for the first time in your life, your mother looked nervous.

“I fear she may question Jace, Luc and Joffrey's legitimacy. Even yours y/n. Aegon and Aemond openly call them bastards because their Dowager Queen mother does. This is something we should all be concerned about.”

“My Lady Wife, as long as there is still air in my lungs, and blood in my veins, no harm will come to you or our children. As useless as he is now, my brother will not allow those righteous cunts to question anything. We are safe.”

“For now.” Your mother says grimly. “That is why I must stay close to the Queen, attempt to mend what has been broken. I see no other way.”

“Then it must be done, by any means.” Your father added, eyes sliding over to you.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39

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danikamariewrites · 10 months

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Cassian x adhd!reader

A/n: I wanted to see where my thoughts on Cass with this concept would take me plus I realized I haven’t written anything for him yet oops. I also kinda got carried away with this one. Should I finish the trio and do one for Rhys (and possibly one for Eris👀)? My requests are still open!

Warnings: some angst and mentions of mental health struggles

Cassian is really good at reading people and telling when there’s something wrong (like in ACOMAF when he was first training Feyre he just let her punch it out and she finally talked)

You would mask it for the first few months of your relationship but he picked up on your ADHD when you first met

He knew you would come to him when you were ready to talk about it

And when you did talk to him about your ADHD he was so understanding. Cass wants to learn everything about you, including how your brain works

If he had questions you couldn’t answer he’d do his own research in the library or ask Madja a million questions about how to help you

Cassian could always tell when you zoned out or when you were in your own little world. When trying to get your attention he was always gentle about it

Whenever you were sitting still for too long doing work and needed a break he will always stop what he’s doing to be with you, if you want him to be. He would go on walks with you, let you pace around and talk at him, mini dance parties, or even take you to spar for a bit.

There were times when you thought your ADHD had its perks because sweet, wholesome moments just between you and Cassian would come from it

For example after he was coming home from Windhaven you guys were going to go away for the weekend to the cabin in the mountains and you had to find your duffel bag

You swore it was in the walk-in closet you and Cass shared so you started digging through the piles and shelves looking for the bag

But of course you get sidetracked, you found Cassians favorite hoodie that had been missing (it wasn’t actually missing you wore it while he was gone once and then hid it you just forgot where it was)

You put the hoodie on and then other piles of forgotten stuff grabs your attention and you start digging through everything in the closet making a mess

There’s a skirt Feyre gave you with the tag still on that you put on over your leggings, you put things in piles, and then you found a box of jewelry Cassian never wears. One thing in it is a bracelet with a broken clasp so you sit down on the floor between the piles of stuff and attempt to fix it

You didn’t hear the front door open or Cassian calling your name. When you finally noticed him he was standing in the doorway laughing, “Hey baby, find your bag?” Your cheeks got hot as he made his way into the closet sitting with you

“Find anything interesting?” “Yeah a few things. That pile over there is pretty cool.” He finds your collection of headbands and puts one on

After an hour you fixed the clasp and your both wearing random shit you found. You look at each other and laugh at how ridiculous you look. Sighing your shoulders slump, “I still need to find my bag and pack. Sorry Cass I dragged you into my crazy distraction.” Cassian looks at you with a questioning smile, “you don’t need to be sorry baby. Plus I found your bag,” he pulls the duffel from behind him, “like 20 minutes after I got here. I just thought we were having fun.”

You jump into his lap wrapping your arms around his neck tightly “I love you Cass.” He kisses your forehead and then all the way down to your nose, “I love you too baby.” Then plants a kiss on your mouth

But there are also the bad/frustrating moments

One time you were cleaning up around the house and misplaced an important document Cassian needed to give to Rhys but you couldn’t remember where it was or if you put in his office

You were trying to retrace your steps and could tell Cassian was getting frustrated. You were apologizing profusely, you didn’t realize the document was part of the stuff you were organizing

He snaps at you. You knew in the back of your mind he was mad about the paper and not at you. But you had a hard time separating that especially when regulating your emotions at the same time

Your eyes started to water and your bottom lip trembled. As soon as he saw your face and the tears fall he instantly regretted yelling.

He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug and cradling your head to his chest swaying you back and forth slowly. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to snap, I’m not mad at you I swear.” You stand like that for a few moments, “I know Cass I just feel like it’s my fault and I can never remember things I’m sorry.”

Cassian pulls back to look at you, “you have nothing to be sorry for. It happens sometimes, we all misplace things. It’ll be fine I promise.”

When you’re fidgeting or having a hard time sitting still he’d hold your hand. Sometimes you would just hold his hand or squeeze and you’d be fine, the weight of his large hand comforting you

Other times you would play with his fingers or trace shapes on his palm. Sometimes you’d even tap at the bright red siphon on the back of his hand, you’d stare at it getting lost in its glow and how beautiful it is

When you get over stimulated at home he takes away whatever is bothering you and rubs up and down your arms, “you ok baby? What can I do to help?” You just lean your forehead against his chest and stay silent, trying to breathe in and out

Once your better you cuddle up to Cassian in bed

If you guys are out with the IC he would take you outside for fresh air and wrap a wing around you to show that you’re safe

If you seem like you’re going to have an anxiety attack he lets you squeeze his hands and he talks you through it, “it’s going to be ok, just take deep breaths baby, in and out.” He breathes with you

When you are ok enough he takes you in his arms to fly you home. He does a lap over the city first so you can enjoy the view and get lost in its beauty

tags: @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

#acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #cassian acosf #cassian imagine #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian acotar x reader #cassian headcanons

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shoujomangathoughts · 7 months

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Shoujo Thoughts - Snow White with the Red Hair

This is another series that I've heard about for years and finally gave it a chance (watched the anime then immediately went to the manga). It's a series that I find very charming, relaxing and was a nice change of pace for me and my usual tastes.

I remember seeing people warning others how "you shouldn't read the manga" because apparently it gets boring and is overstaying its welcome story-wise. While I don't think everything that has happened so far is entirely necessary, I think this sentiment comes from people wanting the more romance focused parts from the beginning to remain throughout. If you haven't read the manga, Shirayuki gets (and takes) an opportunity to help her studies as an herbalist but this results in two years away from the palace, and therefore Zen. They're still together here and there, but the manga starts leaning in a more slice of life direction and the romance is a bit more subdued. I actually appreciated this and found the individual adventures and growth of Zen and Shirayuki more interesting at times as Zen tries to learn and be a better prince and Shirayuki continues her studies and tries to reach people.

Zen and Shirayuki do have a nice relationship though and I find the romance to be pretty well done. They both have that awkward energy and are trying to navigate their own lives as well as their relationship.

The presentation and world of this series is another captivating point for me. The anime was visually great and I thought the manga's art was really nice too. It has a whimsical style and shows you a lot of small interactions and details. It makes the world feel lived in and allows you to have a clear idea of the cast and their personalities. I specifically really like the visual of Lilias and its snow covered imagery (as well as the wintry outfits).

The main cast is also mostly likeable. The way they interact with each other feels natural and they each have their own charm that adds something unique to the dynamic. Even the part that had people frustrated with Mitsuhide didn't bother me as much because I could understand how that was a very in-character decision for him.

Favorite character : Obi

I do find that Obi is the most charismatic character in the series for me. He's obviously had a difficult life but he also seems so genuinely affected by having found a group of people that he comes to value. Every time he's around he adds something, whether it be a witty remark or demonstrating his ability to be a bodyguard. Yes he loves Shirayuki, but the series doesn't really show that Shirayuki loves him back (basically the series isn't really leaning into the love triangle direction). Though I do appreciate that she has on multiple occasions told him how much she values him because he does do and help her a lot. He also seems to have good chemistry with the rest of the cast (particularly in his interactions with Shirayuki and Zen though I also love his relationship with Ryu).

All in all, I've found this to be a really enjoyable series up to the current chapter (sad to see it's on hiatus, hope the mangaka is doing well). I'm not entirely sure how long it will continue as the scope of the story seems to suggest it still has a while left, but I'll be continuing it whenever it does come back.

It's been a little bit since I posted one of these but as always, thanks for reading!

#shoujo #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #manga #anime

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oftenderweapons · 11 months

Text

Like Crazy | PJM

Pairing: Jimin x reader (nicknamed Princess)

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Genre: fluff, slight angst, light smut, established relationship

Rating: 18+, minors, do not interact

Warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of grinding, mentions of handjob (male receiving). Angst involving military service and taking a break from the relationship.

A/N: To the nonnie who requested this draft -- I'm sorry, but I went off plot with your request, mostly because I can't imagine them being out to the public, but I'll add to this so I can imagine how the *good* fans might react. Also, since I imagined this song interpreted a certain way between them, I don't think this particular take they have in this fic would be recorded and published. I'll reply more pertinently to your ask in a separate post, don't worry. But I wanted you to have *this* fic because I want you to know some stuff that happened in their storyline, and I want you to know how I imagined them interpreting this song together. Sorry again, feel free to send me an ask to shame me LOL

As usual, here's my masterlist and the fic is below the cut.

ILY and enjoy 💜✨

Jimin was moving smoothly in front of you, every muscle of his body hitting every stress and release of the music. He was hypnotic. You could have spent hours watching him move.

It was only partially a physical experience, and conversely, it was mostly a mental, emotional experience. You could feel him move.

You mirrored his steps clumsily once the chorus hit. He was cute, giggling, fooling around with you. You touched each other carelessly in some sort of childlike game. And once the second verse came on, he switched.

He was dancing for you.

His movements turned lustful, lazy. He was touching himself the way you touch him, taking more time in a tempo rubato. Slow paced, sultry, prolonging movements past their beat, letting them melt into spaces they shouldn’t. The choreography you’d seen plenty of times, with its sharp accents and crisp lines, was turning into a breathy harmony of blurred lines, of sultry curves.

While he seemed frustrated and torn on stage, playful and embarrassed on his several tiktoks, and dark, somehow greedy on the Studio Choom final cut, here before your eyes, he was lusty and indulging. He seemed to really give in to every movement, as if allowing himself to be touched, to be moved, to be seduced by his own hands.

When his hand moved across his ribs on the second chorus, it looked as if he was really caressing himself. He was giving, and giving, blooming under his own palms.

You wished you could touch him that way, you’d missed him so much.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you told him, watching him, and watching. You couldn’t stop tracing every line of him with your eyes. The song was ending, and you wanted more.

He looked in your eyes as silence finally settled in.

“Come,” he said, reaching to you with his hand and dragging you close to him. He made the song restart.

He took slow steps as he danced close to you, leading you with a hand around your waist, hooking you close to him.

“Remember our first dance?” you asked him as he leaned close to your mouth.

He nodded. “Sometimes I think about it, when I struggle finding myself.”

Longing was like electricity between your lips and his. “Does it… This song…”

“What about it?” he asked.

“No, later…” you said, avoidant.

“Okay. Later.” He parted from you just to let you hit the chorus. Staring at each other in the mirror, you noticed his hand, moving from his belt loop to his pelvis, suggestive, an innuendo matched by the lowering of his eyelids, his pupils getting darker.

You were moving, looking at the mirror, but you weren’t looking at yourself. You were rather making eye contact with him, your bodies getting closer once the second verse started, his solo with the dancer — which had felt so wrong when you looked at it on video — changed entirely once he was dancing with you. His hands were all over you, pushing, pulling, desperate. A hand on your thigh, the other carrying your knee closer to his hip, his waist, your pelvis colliding with his in a way that stole your breath and made your torso snap forward, in his hold. Then, he was pushing you back, making you dip low behind you, lowering you to the ground before his body was climbing over yours in wicked seduction.

And then he stood, moving on with the choreography, leaving you breathless to pick up after yourself.

The second chorus had no pretense of sobriety, it was loose and lusty and desperate, your hands moving freely over your body in a way that translated much better in your own vocabulary of desire.

He could read it effortlessly.

You ditched the plans for the outro just to keep dancing with each other, going back to that night, when breathing the same air, and feeling each other’s skin and looking at the way your bodies moved together never felt enough.

Your nose was touching his, his hands were spread over your ribs, your legs were complicatedly tangled together and when the music ended this time, neither of you wanted to start again.

You were both breathing heavily and both your hands felt criminally free, so you grabbed his face and kissed the hell out of him.

Neither of you was lying when you met passionately, your mouths devouring each other, wet and hungry, his body, electric and strong against yours pushed you towards the mirror, and you wanted, you wanted him so much.

Words were failing you as you asked, “Gimmie— Please—”

You didn’t know what you wanted, you didn’t know what to beg for. You were only grateful that he wasn’t mocking you for your desperation; infact, apparently he had this renewed purpose ever since he got you back. Since that night, everything was fair game.

He ruled over you, and he knew it, and he had no other request but having everything he’d missed so dearly.

“What did you want to say, earlier?” he asked, panting, his voice angelic, aethereal like he’d been while singing.

“What?” you asked back, confused, dizzy with excitement and need.

“Earlier. Don’t act like you don’t remember,” he teased you.

You bit your lip, your body pinned by his own, and mostly by his gaze.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you. About this song.”

He nodded. The days without you had been delirious. Like some great lie he’d told himself as an excuse to be afraid to stand by your side, to continue staying by your side. He’d tried to rip the band-aid off before you would do it on him. He was about to enlist, and it felt easier, to let you go instead of keeping the both of you chained to a promise that was going to have more downsides than perks.

But was it worth it?

He’d just caused the both of you the darkest despair, and then the enlistment had been postponed due to the pandemic. And he’d lost you, over nothing.

“Go ahead, ask me.”

Your eyes were turned down, to the floor. “Did you write this song about someone you saw while we were off?”

He froze in your arms, then caught your chin. Made you look him in the eye. “No, Princess.”

You nodded.

He hated himself for making you this insecure. How could he? How could he deserve you, after what he’d put you both through? “It’s about the night we met again.”

You found the courage to hold his gaze.

“At the club. Our eyes met across the room. I kept celebrating with my friend, but— I didn’t last long.” He kissed your chin. “I went home, by myself.” His hand caressed the length of your thigh, the side of it, down to your knee, and picked it up. He wanted you glued to his body permanently. He thought he’d never spent this much time between your legs before, not sexually, nor romantically, and now he craved it continuously. He wanted to take a day off and just lay the closest he can on top of you. “I went home by myself, and I fantasised about what could have happened. If I had had the nerves and if I hadn’t let go of you. Touching you, being inside you, kissing you. Having you all night long. Being yours still, endlessly.”

You traced the lines of his face. You’d had sex in this room before — his small dance room at home — and it had been hot, but now you just wanted the closeness of his bedroom — your shared bedroom, where you had slept together in the past, and now again, found in each other once more.

“You sure we’re doing this right?” you asked him, combing his hair back while he kissed his way down your neck. Missing you had helped him appreciate some small details of you more, especially the ones he feared forgetting. Little beauty marks, moles, scars; places where your skin felt softer, places where he could touch you innocently and still cause waves of goosebumps over your entire body. Places where the ruthlessness of your body gave way to luscious forests of pleasures, endless deserts of scorching want, rich oceans of admiration, and devotion, and love.

He liked you rough and reckless and harsh, and he liked where he could find exceptions to that shark character of yours. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t stop wanting you,” he confessed with a giggle, teasing the waistband of your joggers with his eager fingertips.

You grabbed him sternly by his own waistband, and started pulling him in, twisting the two of you around as you began to walk backward towards the bedroom.

“Jimin,” you moaned, almost with a hiccup at the way he stole your breath with tiny nips at your throat.

“Love,” he moaned back at you, and your knees went weak. “Are you gonna give me the night we could have had?”

You purred and bit at the base of his neck. “One day, I will give you all the nights we missed. But tonight we have just tonight, and I’m gonna make the best of it.”

There was a certain power in love refound. It soared in your veins as you undressed him, and it sang in his heartbeat as he did the same to you.

It was tender and liquid as his fingers caressed your chest with devotion, his eyes caught as if it was the first time still.

His hips went wild as your hands reached for him, touching him lovingly, unrushed, precise and skilled. He stopped you with a grip around your wrist, just in time to convince you to grind against him, like that first magical, perfect night, when he’d taken and given, and you’d met him, again and again, flowing inside him just as you allowed him inside you.

Your bodies seemed to perfectly sing to each other, until you couldn’t stand the distance any longer.

“Can I? Inside?” he asked, so, so gentle. He touched your face as he asked, cupping your cheek, kissing you deep, deeper, his lips sinfully plush, his teeth a harsh and pleasant contrast.

“Yes, please,” you replied with a breathy, light tone, your words barely loud enough.

He let himself kiss you deeper — impossibly so — as he grabbed his sex and placed the tip to your entrance, the movement so smooth as he slipped inside you.

A guttural gasp caught you, but he smoothed it out with a fond galaxy of kisses spread all over your face and chest.

“I’m so sorry I let you go,” he confessed, catching you in his arms, holding you as tight as he could. He rolled you over so that he was on top, so he could give you a break from all the effort as you’d been grinding on top of him for a solid ten minutes, and your legs had to be tired.

He could take over, and he wanted to. He needed to make it up to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you out on your bullshit. I’m sorry I didn’t hold you back.” You wanted to keep talking, but he was working you good, and it was hard to find words that made sense.

“We’re good now,” he hummed. “You’re good now. Am I good to you?”

“You’re just, so good,” you confirmed, adding to it. “You’re fine. You’re perfect. I missed you. This. Us. Sex with you,” it was like you were an avalanche, coming apart with words first, and then your body, gradually getting sloppy, losing control.

Your hand moved in between your bodies, to the apex of your slit, teasing the sensitive skin there.

He looked at your hand, at your bodies joining. “I missed it too. I missed your body. God, I missed this so much,” he groaned. “I’m gonna—”

“Go,” you reassured him.

He went wild and there, you followed, your voice hoarse as you cried out his name, your lips parched from the panting, the gasping over every sensation he caused inside your body.

Once he collapsed on top of you, you just held him there, letting him catch his breath, soothing him with tender strokes of your hand over his body, over his dirty blond hair.

You let him rest inside you, close to you, and confessed. “You know I love you,” you whispered.

And after some seconds during which you thought he was already asleep, he replied “I love you, too, you know.” And then he added, “Like crazy.”

It made you chuckle, just barely. You nodded to yourself. “Like crazy.”

If you liked how this fic made you feel, remember to tell the writer -- yeah, we get a huge sugar rush from that 🥹✨

#jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin x princess #jimin x yn #btswritersclub #52hertz #thetruthuntoldnet

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marleyswho · 23 days

Text

no woman, no cry (chapter two)

warnings. false awakening dreams. memories. bob marley face claim. tension. fluff. awkward relationships. unease. self-love. body dysmorphia. insecurity. another oc. alcohol. hand-holding. anxiety. disconnection. gentle touches. reoccurring dream

tags. @shurislover @s0lam33y @desswright29 @pocketsizedpanther @naftalyspaces @oceean @tishlvr @bbbbbbrilliantly @shurisnovia @kisskourt @blkgworlamplified @prettymrswright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @jordisblogg

notes. a little early release… i was going to post this tomorrow afternoon but my day became busy from start to finish, and i’m too excited to keep this from you until monday. and we’re jumping right into it ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The sound of rain resonates in the air as her vision comes slowly, blearily. She finds herself gazing towards a window in her slouched state, her eyes squinting slightly as she tries to make sense of what she sees. The window pane is stippled with raindrops, tinting the view of the outside world. Beyond the rain-covered glass, the landscape seems to move at a mild pace, a dreamlike blur of muted colors and softened edges.

Inside the car, the steady hum of the engine melts into the sound of tires moving across the wet road and the water it holds, creating a constant, soothing, undertone to the rain’s heavy drumming. But amidst these sounds, there’s one that stands out, a human sound.

The humming of a man’s voice.

The voice is rich, each note vibrating with years of experience and a comfort in its own steady rhythm. It’s the kind of hum that wraps itself around her, a sound that soothes her troubled soul, resonating with an almost paternal calm.

She lets her eyes droop closed again in their heavy state, allowing the auditory tapestry to wash over her, the humming voice drowning out both the soundscape of the moving car and the drumming of the rain, and it’s then that a flash hits her from behind her eyes.

She then comes to see the face of an elderly man, the features on his dark melanin skin creased with the passage of time, but his eyes kind and alive with a spark of youthful energy, and he stands before her, his presence commanding gentle respect. In his hands, he holds a Bible, its dark cover worn from years of use, and with a motion of tenderness, he extends the book towards her, his voice resonant with firm affection.

“Take care on the road, Genesis.” He says, his words simple but heavy with meaning, carrying the weight that is both of a warning and a blessing with the accent that’s woven into her.

Then the flash fades, almost as quick as it came, and with it, the humming slowly ceases, leaving only the sound of rain to fill the silence.

And she stirs, her eyes fluttering open slowly. For a moment, she lingers on the edge of consciousness, her mind a haze of both her dream-state and reality intertwining, threads of memory weaving through the fabrics of her awakening thoughts. The sound of the rain still resonates in her ears, a reminder of the world outside, yet a sound that still draws a bridge between now and the dream.

She lays there, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like a gentle mist, the elderly man and his parting words vivid in her mind’s eye. And she remembers, it’s an actual memory.

Her senses gradually sharpen, pulling her further from the realm of sleep, her ears becoming more acutely aware of the rain, how it falls softer now, compared to last night. And with a deep, steadying, breath, Genesis allows her awareness to expands the initial disorientation of her waking fading as she sets herself in the now. The hotel room’s still dimly lit from last night, and the air feels cool, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of her own body, bundled under the oversized hoodie and sweats.

Turning her head to the left, slowly, Genesis’ gaze finds Letitia lying asleep peacefully, breathing even and undisturbed. Her features are relaxed, the kind of deep, untroubled, sleep that comes from exhaustion or even just peace of a now unburdened mind. She forgot to cover her cornrows before they laid down, and Genesis knows she’ll have to redo them, but in the moment of the night, that was the last thing either of them were worried about.

Despite the calmness exuding from Letitia’s peaceful sleep, a residual unease from Genesis’ dream lingers. Her mind can’t help but start to race, trying to search for any reasoning to its significance in the moment, as well as her and Letitia’s current situation, cause quiet turmoil within her.

Genesis carefully begins to maneuver out of the bed. Every slow shift and lift of her limbs is calculated to avoid any uncontrolled movements or sudden shifts that might pull Letitia from her own sleep. Her feet touch the floor with a softness, barely making a sound, her weight shifting as she eases herself up and out of the embrace of the bedding.

The distance to the bathroom seems long given the moment, but her steps remain silent. It’s something she’s been good at since she was a child, being able to not make a sound like that. And as Genesis reaches the bathroom, she pauses momentarily at the entrance, hand resting lightly on the frame, looking back to Letitia for a moment, savoring the sight of her like this before she steps inside the space, flicking the lights on.

She rubs her eyes with her fingertips as she approaches the mirror, her reflection greeting her, gazing back. It’s a silent, expectant, tableau, half of it her own features, the other seemingly morphing into the image of her father. He has a striking resemblance to Bob Marley, but with darker melanin skin. His features are a ghostly overlay of her own, his eyes so like hers, carrying stories of joy and struggle, wisdom and warmth, echoing a past that is both cherished and painful.

The convergence is too poignant, too laden with unresolved feelings. She feels a tightening in her chest from the surge of emotions that she’s not ready to confront right now. With a sudden, jerking, movement, she looks away, her gaze dropping to the sink below. She turns on the faucet, cold water coming forth, cascading down with a clarity that seems at odds with the morning turmoil inside her.

Cupping her hands, Genesis collects the icy water, splashing it onto her face in an attempt to wash away the thoughts of her racing mind, to erase the bridge between memory and reality for even just a moment. The water’s chill is a shock, a tactile counterpoint to her inner turmoil, droplets careening down her skin, each one a tiny shock of awakening on its own. She repeats the action for a longer escape.

But after, she ceases her actions, the last of the water dripping from her skin as she reaches for a towel. With a deep, steadying, breath, she rubs the fabric on her face, absorbing whatever wetness is left. But as she lowers it, her gaze catches the reflection in the mirror.

There, in the dim lighting of the bathroom reflecting against the outside area, she finds Letitia, her presence silent as she leans against the doorframe. Her gaze is heavy, fixed on Genesis with an intensity that pierces through the distance between them.

Her eyes meet hers in the mirror, and Genesis feels how her heartbeat picks up in her chest. But she tries to push the feeling back, or tries to, for now. There’s things they have to do.

“You wanna keep the braids?” She asks, her voice steady, her emotional turmoil set aside, referring to Letitia’s styled cornrows.

Letitia’s eyebrows furrow slightly as she looks at her, eyes searching for something beneath the surface of her causal question. The memory of the previous night’s vulnerability, confessions of love and small acts of it shown raw, and a promise, just before her eyes closed, seemingly weaved them into a new dynamic, now hanging in the air between them. Letitia’s mind can’t help but race, juxtaposing the intensity and rawness of the emotional exposure of last night with the present, where Genesis appears to be glossing over it.

“Um… yeah- yes…” She manages a response finally, hesitant words stuttering off her lips as she tries to read her, trying to understand if this sudden shift from the night before is a defense mechanism, the one they spoke of, the one Genesis has always had trouble with. It’s a way for Genesis to protect herself.

She watches as Genesis steps forward, moving past her, out of the bathroom. Letitia’s eyebrows furrow a little more, turning and trailing behind her, watching as she reaches for the bag she had on her yesterday, pulling out a smaller, clear, bag. The contents of the bag—a variety of tools and small bottles filled with water and what has to be leave in conditioner, and hair oil—speaks to her years doing things as such.

Genesis then moves towards the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and places it on the floor, in front of the full-length mirror that’s situated by the end of the bed before positioning herself, sitting on the edge of the bed, feet at either side of the pillow. Turning her head slightly, she offers Letitia the smallest, most gentle, smile, and a nod, a silent ask for her to join.

Letitia moves to sit on the pillow between Genesis’ legs, carefully positioning herself, adjusting her body slightly to find the right angle of comfort and the closeness necessary for Genesis to work on her hair. The room, filled with the dim lighting and what’s now only a slight drizzle of rain echoing quietly in the space.

Genesis reaches for one of the small spray bottles, holding it a few inches away from Letitia’s hair, and pressing down, a fine mist of what begins to cascade down onto Letitia’s hair. The droplets are light and cool, refreshing and soothing as she sprays all around her head, making sure every inch is covered with enough water before she grabs the other small bottle, a leave-in conditioner that she sprays on as well before Letitia feels her stop, undoing the small tie in the back of the style. She sprays some of the conditioner into her hand before using it on the ends of the braids, Letitia’s ears picking up every sound.

She then moves her hands to begin the process of unbraiding each cornrow. With every row she unbraids, Genesis fingers move with a care that conveys not just her skill but also the respect for the hair she’s tending to. Letitia, for her part, sits calmly, her body relaxed, fully immersed in the tranquility of the moment. The intimacy of the act, coupled with the quiet of the room, creates a blissful bubble around them.

As Genesis finishes releasing the last of the braids, Letitia’s hair falling to her cheekbones, more curls than coils in the moment, Genesis takes out the tail-end comb, drawing it back with a smooth motion to create a new center part for the foundation of the new rows.

She then proceeds to start braiding in sections, mindful of the tension created by the braiding being tight, thinking of Letitia’s ever so present scalp sensitivity. Beginning at the scalp, tight enough to be secure, she weaves the strands, following the natural contours of Letitia’s head.

Letitia relaxes into it, the feeling soothing compared to how others do it. Genesis’ approach is meticulous, assuring that the tension across Letitia’s scalp is evenly distributed, preventing any unnecessary pulling that could lead to discomfort.

As Genesis continues her work, she suddenly feels a gentle pressure against her left calf, knowing it’s Letitia’s arm, wrapping around her in a gesture so natural. The contact’s unassuming, yet intimate, an expression of trust and connection that doesn’t need words to validate its sincerity. Genesis takes a quick glance up to the mirror, taken slightly aback by the gesture, catching Letitia’s reflection.

She finds her looking down at her phone, her posture relaxed, her left arm around Genesis’ calf seeming like an effortless extension of her being. It’s like a quiet testament to both the comfort, the familiarity, between them, and the natural intimacy that’s woven its way between them. There’s a casualness to Letitia’s actions, like it’s something she’s been doing forever. In a way it’s true, just not like this.

“I want you to come with me.” Letitia says suddenly, her voice soft yet clear, cutting through the silence.

Genesis pauses, her hands frozen in their movements at the unexpected request. Her eyebrows knit together, both confusion and surprise consuming her whole being.

A light chuckle leaves Letitia’s lips as she glances up from her phone, her eyes meeting Genesis’ in the mirror.

“I mean it.” She reaffirms her statement, her gaze steady, conveying the sincerity of her request and a brief moment of silence consumes the space between them, charged with unspoken emotions and thoughts, and Letitia begins to worry she’s overstepped as Genesis remains quiet. “I-I don’t want to make you feel like you have to if you’re not comfortable…”

Letitia’s request and her quick reassurance acknowledges the complexities of their individual personalities, a soothing blanket over Genesis’ initial anxiety.

“I… I don’t have anything to wear.”

“There’s an extra outfit.” Letitia admits, almost sheepishly. “It was, um…”

Genesis doesn’t need her to finish to know, causing her eyes to narrow slightly, something that Letitia quickly takes note of.

“It’s not like that, I promise you.”

Her tone is vulnerable slightly, and raw, settling into Genesis’ heart, her gaze softening when she can’t find any other intent behind her eyes.

“Hopeful wanderer…” Genesis finally says, trailing off, and Letitia’s eyebrows furrow in the slightest at her words, only Genesis understanding her words are symbolism for her ask.

But she nods and Letitia’s eyes light up a little, a smile turning her lips up brightly, almost giddy as she looks back down at her phone. Genesis’ eyes linger on the reflection for a second, a gentle smile turning her lips upward, feeling a flutter in her chest as she looks back down to her hair, her fingertips still working through Letitia’s hair.

When she finishes, starting to put her tools back in the small, clear, bag, and Letitia looks up, turning her head to either side, examining the refreshed look in the mirror. Genesis watches as Letitia’s eyes light up with a playful spark of vanity, gently running a hand softly over the braids, feeling the texture.

“Okay, okay, I see you…” She says teasingly, her voice deep, still a little raspy from sleep. “Look at my beautiful face!”

Genesis can’t help but roll her eyes at her playful manner, a slight smirk turning up her lips as she softly hits the side of her head, leaving Letitia to duck into herself slightly, only out of reflex, chuckling.

But the moment’s short lived, suddenly interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. Letitia stands from her place on the floor, and walks to the door, opening it to reveal Shiona, her main stylist for events, who steps into the room with a whirlwind of energy.

“I hope that rain holds off cause it was like the skies opened up last night.” Shiona begins, walking in with a bag, as well as a couple clothing pieces in covers, sighing as she places the dress on the hanger in the open closet space. “And have you seen Genesis? Your team called her in but she never checked into the hotel and we were starting to think she-“

Letitia’s lips part to speak but she pauses as Shiona’s gaze travels into the room, landing on Genesis, who’s awkwardly standing from her place on the edge of the bed, quietly observing. Catching sight of her had caused Shiona to pause mid-sentence, lips parting slightly in surprise.

She doesn’t say a word, but looking between both Genesis and Letitia, as if she’s trying to piece what she unexpectedly walked into all together.

And then her gaze locks on Genesis, her eyebrows remaining furrowed.

“When’d you get here?”

Genesis feels her chest tighten slightly at her question, the feeling only heightened by the older woman’s gaze.

Genesis feels the familiar tightness in her chest, the tone of Shiona’s voice heightening her discomfort. Her posture becomes guarded, yet her expressions remain stoic, hiding the inner turmoil. As her lips part to weave an explanation, or even deflect, Shiona continues.

“I mean, it’s not like you to not…”

Genesis knows where she was leading, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air, heavy with implication.

“We were all starting to think you weren’t going to show, again.” The words strike a chord, and though Genesis maintains her composure, her internal reaction is gnawing away at her insides.

Letitia, watching the exchange intently, noticed the subtle falter in Genesis. Her familiarity to Genesis’ body language and knowing how her mind works allows her to read the undercurrents of discomfort and defense that others most likely will miss. She’s gotten better at it, Letitia notices. Hiding reactions. Yet, she can still see the conflict, she can still see her.

“Anyways, you’ve still got your touch.” Shiona attempts to shift the conversation, yet somehow, even that feels dismissive and it causes Genesis to turn away slightly, sighing heavily as she rubs the back of her neck, a self-soothing gesture.

“Gens is going to be attending with me today, Shi.” Letitia’s voice is clear and calm, the statement simple yet loaded with unspoken context, unbeknownst to Shiona.

“Oh?” It’s immediate and audible as her gaze snaps back towards Genesis, who catches the tone of what seems like passive-aggressive surprise. She recognizes the implicit judgement easily. “Well, we need to get you in this outfit then.”

Her words, directed at Letitia, carry an attempt to normalize the situation, trying to just move past the moment. She gestures for Letitia to follow her into the bathroom to assist with the outfit change, grabbing one of the covered clothing items, leaving Genesis somewhat isolated in the room by herself as Shiona speaks about the pieces.

Genesis moves to the desk, finding the makeup kit that’s buried in her crossbody bag sitting on the desk chair. She begins to lay the tools and products onto the desk itself, the familiar routine coming back to her so easily.

Suddenly, room’s calm is abruptly shattered by the aggressive beats of rap music coming through the B

bluetooth speaker that sits on the counter of the sink. The sudden onslaught of sound feels like a physical intrusion, jarring Genesis out of her focused state. She grimaces, the music clashing harshly with her ears.

She pauses, rummaging through her bag, her fingers closing around her AirPods and she fits them into her ears quickly, a barrier she creates between herself and the intrusive noise. With a few quick taps on her phone, she pulls up her own playlist, the familiar sounds of the calming beat of the drums filling her ears.

The soothing beat cocoons Genesis, allowing her to take a deep, steadying, breath as she begins to gather her thoughts. She finds herself reflecting of the past, a tapestry of simpler times, even when Letitia was gaining more fame, now it all seems distant compared to the present’s, high-profile, high-pressure environment.

She’s an outsider to this world, one she’s not entirely comfortable with.

Everything’s changed.

But Genesis pushes it back for now, focusing her attention back to preparing what she needs to do Letitia’s makeup, but she makes a mental note to keep an eye on how Letitia moves.

She has a feeling.

Eventually, Genesis hears Shiona call out to her, her cue to overtake, and she gathers what she needs, only a small amount of things and heads towards the bathroom. The door’s ajar, and Genesis pushes it open carefully to find Letitia transformed as Shiona steps out, past Genesis as she steps in, effectively swapping places.

The leather outfit Letitia wears is an assemblage of artistry; a jacket with an oversized, boxy, cut drapes over her shoulders, its design creating a tapestry of dark, interwoven, panels. Beneath it, she wears a matching skirt, paired with a white turtleneck that shoes past the folded collar of the jacket, a balance of chic, ending high on her thighs, barely below the jacket, accenting the length of her long legs, now toned, slightly.

Looking at her through the mirror, Genesis feels her breath catch in her throat, taking in all of Letitia, yet she continues on naturally, as if it doesn’t affect her as much as it does.

“Shiona knows her stuff.” Genesis notes, her eyes analytical as she assesses Letitia’s appearance, considering how to complement it with the makeup like it’s an equation.

“Yeah… she does, doesn’t she?” Letitia replies, a small smile turning her lips upward, but Genesis notices the hesitation.

Her eyebrows furrow slightly, something Letitia doesn’t notice as Genesis sets the items down on the countertop, moving on to the task at hand.

“Think we’ll keep it natural, let the outfit do the talking.” Genesis murmurs, more to herself than Letitia as she starts with foundation, applying it to the brush.

But Letitia nods, head remaining straight ahead, trusting her, and the room’s silent despite the music, Genesis working around her face with the occasional sound of a brush or templet being set down.

Letitia glances at her face as she works in front of her, watching her movements while Genesis doesn’t need her eyes closed, noticing her AirPod in her ear.

“What’re you listening to?”

Genesis pauses in her movements, glancing to Letitia’s eyes and gently moving the brush to her other hand, taking one of her AirPods out and carefully bringing it to Letitia’s ear, setting it in.

As the music flows into her ear, the music on the outside seems to fade away, enveloped almost instantly into the song’s soulful embrace, listening, her body stilling as the chorus fills her senses.

“Is this love, is this love, is this love

Is this love that I’m feelin’?

Is this love, is this love, is this love

Is this love that I’m feelin?”

The lyrics resonate within her and she can’t help but glance back at Genesis, back to working, sucking in her bottom lip in a gesture of concentration, something she’s always done, something Letitia’s always found adorable. The intensity of her focus, combining with the tender lyrics, creates a poignant moment that feels suspended in time.

Before Letitia can reflect further, Genesis’ touch draws her back, fingertips gentle, yet firm, guiding Letitia’s chin down.

“Stay still for me.” She whispers, her voice a soft murmur that carries the words with tender command. And after a short pause, allowing instruction to sink in, she continues. “Close your eyes…”

Letitia obeys, the combination of Genesis’ touch and her voice sending a shiver cascading through her skin, feeling Genesis’ fingertips still against her skin as the brush presses against the area, creating an atmosphere that’s intimate as the lyrics continue in her ear.

The moment Genesis withdraws her fingers from Letitia’s skin, and the soft sound of the pallets closing, Letitia knows she’s finished without her even saying a word. Her eyes open slowly, meeting her reflection in the mirror, the subtlety of the makeup enchanting her features without overshadowing her natural allure. A smile, gentle and approving, appears on her lips as she takes the AirPod out of her ear, extending it back to Genesis.

“I like it.” Her voice is hushed, yet content, speaking of both the makeup and her music and in the mirror, Letitia catches a hint of a smile on Genesis’ lips.

“That’s good, it means you’re comfortable…” Genesis replies, her words trailing off as she turns to fully face Letitia, taking the AirPod from her open palm, eyes scanning over the outfit once more. “Are you?”

The question lingers in the air, Letitia’s response not coming as readily as expected, her hesitation’s a pause Genesis doesn’t miss. Letitia’s eyes flicker between her’s and the mirror with uncertainty, her vibrant confidence seemingly dimmed.

“I’m…” Letitia starts, her voice trailing off as she searches for the words, yet she’s unsure of what to say. She glances down at the clothes that adorn her, her eyes focusing on the lower layer.

Genesis watches her intently, eyes trailing with her, an understanding washing over her.

“You don’t like the skirt.” Genesis notes quietly.

“It’s… it’s not…” Letitia takes a small but heavy breath, her eyes finally looking back to Genesis. “It’s not me.”

“Then change it.” Her statement comes natural to her.

“It doesn’t always work like that. They have the contract, they send the clothes, that’s how things work here.”

Genesis stays silent, nodding her head as if she understands. In reality, she doesn’t.

This world is an enigma in ways to her. She’s been apart of it lightly, yet not enough to know the ins and outs, yet she has perspective.

London, with its own fashion week is different, Letitia thrives amidst the rich tapestry, feeling as if she can wear whatever she’s feeling that day, themed to the show attending. Milan, and even Paris, hold a similar charm, yet it’s a tad more sophisticated in ways.

Hollywood’s spectacle is unlike anything Genesis has seen, a much greater celebrity presence is usually seen in these events such as Milan and Paris, where as in London, it’s more attune to celebrities in the area, whereas these big brands such as Prada sign every big name they can.

It’s never made sense, and it probably never will.

“But I’m going to change before dinner.” Letitia states after the moment of silence passes between them.

Genesis, pulled from the depths of her thoughts, nods gently, not sure what she can really say in response, but the momentary quietude is broken by a knock at the door, a timely interruption that seems to cut the slight tension.

“Genesis, this is for you to put on.” She announces with an obliviousness to the undercurrents swirling in the room as she opens the door.

Genesis eyes look to Shiona, Letitia turning her head as well, watching as she steps in, unzipping the cover just enough to reveal the dress within, handing the hanger over to Genesis, and the sight of it makes Genesis’ heart drop.

“You can’t be serious…” Genesis murmurs, her eyes glancing to Letitia in disbelief.

But she only responds with a chuckle, a sheepish expression all over her face, an awkward acknowledgment of the predicament.

“I’ll just… let you get changed.” She says, backing towards the door, closing it as she steps out.

“Tish-“

“Love you too!” Letitia calls out from the other side, a teasing hint in her tone, ever so playful, leaving Genesis alone.

“Great.” Genesis mutters under her breath, a heavy sigh following, Genesis rubs the back of her neck, the usual soothing gesture a now testament to her irritation.

Reluctantly, she looks to the dress in her hand, it’s fabric now a symbol of the day’s impending challenge. It’s beautiful, she can’t lie, despite being so simple, but to Genesis it feels like a costume for something she never auditioned for.

Not to mention how she hates dresses most of the time.

Her fingers trace the soft material, and with a resigned breath, she begins to change, slipping out of the comfort of Letitia’s clothes into the dress that in a way, signifies more than just an outfit for the evening.

When she’s changed over, Genesis stands before the mirror, the dress cascading along her body. It’s a stark black, form-fitting, piece that flares subtly at the hem, creating a silhouette that’s classic. Yet, she runs her hands over the fabric, tracing the contours of her small chest and the flat plane of her abdomen and stomach, a familiar insecurity whispering to her. The dress, while elegant, feels like an amplifier to her deepest insecurities that she tries so hard to bury and her sigh’s heavy as she reaches for her phone.

With a few taps, she’s FaceTiming help, propping her phone up against the wall, set on the countertop of the sink, and on the third ring, his image shifts into view—walking through the bustling streets of London, his dreads tucked up in his knit beanie, his attire a shield against the London chill.

“Yo, Gen.” Julian greets with a smile, still not looking down as he continues walking, his British-Jamaican mix of an accent warm through her speaker.

Genesis steps back to reveal the full extent of her attire, the dress embracing her every line and curve, and at hearing the movement, Julian’s gaze dips to take in the view of his friend, and laughter bursts from his lips, a reaction as unfiltered as it is immediate.

Genesis’ eyebrows furrow with annoyance as she rubs the middle of her brow in a grimace as Julian tries to calm down from his laughter.

“Yuh dress up like on real uptown gyal now, eh?” There’s affection and teasing mixing into his sudden shift to his native patios.

“Don’t start with me. I look like a mess.”

Julian dips his head again, taking a closer look at the dress. “What if you cut the sides, by yuh ribs? Some flare to it-“

“I can’t cut the sides of no dress, this is Prada!” Genesis whisper yells at Julian.

“Okay, okay, quit shouting.” Julian teases, looking back up again. “Uh, what about, your lion ring, and your cross earring?”

Genesis face shows the realization as he says it, understanding why he mentioned those pieces.

“That… could work.”

It’s silent for a moment, and Genesis watches as Julian’s expression furrows in thought, eyes squinting as he mentally shifts through his stylist mind.

“Yuh have a wrap or something there?” He asks, his voice glitching slightly from the digital connection.

Genesis nods, recalling the one she carries in her crossbody.

“Wrap it ‘round your head, keep di locks down,” Julian instructs, the stylist within him surfacing. “Give yuh a look of elegance, but also make yuh stand out… in a good way, yuh feel?”

“Right…” Genesis’ voice trails off, nodding to herself. “Yeah, okay… I can do that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Julian smiles a little, another moment of silence hitting them before he speaks again, this time his tone more playful. “So… you goin’ in heels with that?”

Genesis raises her eyebrows slightly in question, her voice laced with unsureness as to why he’s asking.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

But Julian just chuckles, the sound warm and teasing.

“I ain’t ever seen you in a dress, but you in heels too, I-“

“Bai, you-“ Genesis cuts him off, feigning annoyance. “Bye, Julian.”

She has to keep back the laugh that’s threatening the edges of her nonchalant expression, and she leans forward, ending the call, chuckling as she steps back, and gets herself into the heels, the ones Shiona left on the floor for her as well. It’s a sleek pair, delicate strapping wrapping around her ankles, elevating her five-four structure.

Genesis emerges from the bathroom without even sparing the mirror another glance, grabbing her phone, clutching onto it like a lifeline as she steps out and into the main part of the room.

In midst of a conversation with Shiona, Letitia catches sight of Genesis and cuts herself off mid-sentance. Her eyes widen slightly, tracking Genesis as she moves across the room.

She’s oblivious to the effect she has on Letitia, reaching her bag and shifting through it as she sets her phone down on the desk, seeking the black, patterned, head wrap and the couple pieces of jewelry, and upon finding the items, she walks to the full-length mirror, setting the jewelry down on top of the drawers, by where the television sits.

Letitia keeps her eyes set on her, the conversation with Shiona forgotten. She finds herself observing the smooth fabric of the dress that clings to Genesis’ slim form. And she watches how Genesis wraps the fabric a round her head, tying it in the front before knotting what’s left of the length of the fabric before wrapping it around the initial tie and tucking it into the middle of it, creating a wrap around her head, locks hanging low beautifully.

“Too much?” Genesis murmurs quietly, a hint of vulnerability there, feeling Letitia’s heavy and hot gaze on her without even really needing to see her reflection in the mirror.

“No, no, you look…” Letitia begins, trailing off as her usual charisma is lost by the image Genesis is presenting, words failing as she watches her affix an earring to her left ear, a small golden cross, a striking contrast from the dark colors all over.

Next, she grabs a ring, a thick band, that’s all Letitia notices in the moment as she slides it onto her right ring finger with care and she turns her head to look at Letitia, who feels her breath catch in her throat, she green eyes standing out so beautifully.

Leitita can’t help her eyes roaming over the entirety of Genesis’ form again. But meeting Genesis’ eyes once more, she collects herself against the emotions she’s feeling.

“You look beautiful.”

There’s a small smile appears on Genesis’ lips, a warmth filling in her chest at Letitia’s simple words, yet holding deeper meaning, and she feels good.

“I hate to break up whatever this is,” Shiona moves her hand bwtween them, breaking the attention affectively. “but if we want any chance of being on time, you need to get, now.”

With quiet urgency, they all gather their things and Letitia leads Genesis to the awaiting limousine, falling behind Shiona. As the two of them settle in, the door shutting behind, and the drive starts, Letitia pulls out her phone, taking both a video and a photo for her socials stories.

But Genesis looks around, quietly, taking in the details of the luxury vehicle—the subtle shine of the leather seats, the soft carpet heath their feet, and out of the corner of her eye, Genesis noticed a small pint of vodka nestled in an ice bucket. Its presence is an unspoken invitation to take the edge off. She picks it up, examining the label, her curiosity focusing more on its presence than any actual desire to indulge.

Letitia catches sight of her doing this, glancing up from her phone and watching, eyes tracking Genesis’ movements.

“You can have it if you want.”

Genesis shakes her head, a quick, definitive, gesture that speaks volumes, setting it back down with the same nonchalance in which she picked it up. Letitia can’t really hide the quiet surprise and intrigue that’s written all over her face, the small rejection being a divergence from the normal that she’s used to handling, her ex was known for indulging far too early and sometimes went too far.

Soon, the limousine eases to a stop and the door swings open to reveal a man in an all black suit, umbrella in hand, set to shield them from the drizzle that lays on the city in the early evening. Letitia exits first, naturally, and Genesis follows, moving to the edge of the car carefully. The cool air that’s tinged with rain greets her before she even sets foot outside.

She looks down to find Letitia offering a hand, like a lifeline, and Genesis takes it, a silent ‘thank you’ passing between them, and she feels the reassuring squeeze, a silent grounding.

As she begins to get out, Genesis tentatively glances up, the cacophony of the voices of the paparazzi and the sounds of the camera clicks are momentarily overwhelming, they always are for her. She quickly averts her eyes almost as soon as she looked up, refocusing on the task of stepping out this car in heels.

Once she safely does so, Letitia begins to turn towards the commotion, the entrance of the event, but she doesn’t let go of Genesis. Instead, their fingers entwine as they move down naturally, a gesture that speaks volumes in its quiet intimacy. Letitia leads with a smile that only wavers slightly under the weight of the public’s eye, and Genesis offering a small smile, but mostly avoiding looking in the lens of the camera.

Her gratitude for the entwining of their fingers is immense. It grounds her in the moment as her heart feels like it’s going to beat out her chest.

At the steps up, Letitia pauses, her hand still clasping Genesis’ as she steps onto the first riser, another woman taking her place, offering Genesis a nimble support to step up the steps, and halfway up, Genesis pauses, looking back, focusing on Letitia’s presence.

The moment of her getting into place is nearly marred when her heel catches, and Genesis feels her heart lurch, a grimace on her face, yet Letitia regains herself too quickly, as if the smallest slip didn’t even happen, her smile returning with only a flash of awkwardness as she poses briefly before the photographers before proceeding, taking Genesis’ hand again and leading her up herself.

She leads her through all the people, towards the main event, where they’re guided to their seats in the front row. Genesis can’t help but feel out of her element. She’s done a couple of these before, but not like this. It shows in a subconscious betrayal of her unease, her left knee bouncing as her legs are crossed over. But Letitia, perceptive as ever, lays a gentle hand upon her kneecap, squeezing with just enough pressure to have her feel calmer within seconds.

A silent promise.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

They had gone back to the sanctuary of the hotel room, just for a moment, after the show, they change out of the show attire, into items more comfortable, yet still aligning with the dinner’s upscale measures.

Letitia opts for an elegant, chic, ensemble, her outfit more to her personal flair, still all by Prada, loose suit pants, loafers, a white, rubbed, tank that’s tucked into the pants, and the same jacket from the earlier event, now left unzipped. But Genesis, on the other hand, finds herself in a struggle to assemble an outfit from her own clothing. She decides on a white, long-sleeve, shirt, it’s fabric soft and comforting against her skin, which she tucks it meticulously into some black, loose-fit, suit pants. Over the shirt lays a black, long-sleeve, button-down, left unzipped. The combination is understated yet sleek, paired with polished loafers that add the touch of formality she hopes is enough. She forego’s the head scarf this time, allowing her locks to remain flowing down, framing her thin face and sharp jawline.

Now in the back of the limousine once more, the quiet hum of the engine is a stark contrast to this evening’s fanfare. And once they arrive, it seems mirrored to just hours earlier, Letitia exiting the car first, under the shield of an umbrella, and Genesis follows, taking Letitia’s hand as she steps out into the light rain. The touch, like earlier, is grounding, silent reassurance admits chaos.

Her hand remains firm in Letitia’s grip on her, their fingers entwined as they walk up to the restaurant. Letitia offers a semi-polite smile and wave to the onlookers, a practiced gesture of acknowledgement and Genesis only follows her lead, feeling the firm grip guiding her through the unfamiliar terrain into the restaurant, following one of the worker’s lead.

Turning the corner eventually, there’s a long table surrounded by a constellation of celebrities from different fields, all sponsored under Prada, and Genesis takes it in as she sits down beside Letitia.

The dinner itself unfolds like a symphony, each person here seemingly contributing to the evening’s scene. Yet, for Genesis, it all fades into the background, her thoughts drifting to a quieter, more introspective, corner of her mind. The scene surrounding her, the causal exchanges of the people, holding fame and accolades, all seemingly foreign things to her despite spending years surrounded by it.

From her vantage point, Genesis takes in the tableau of celebrities surrounding her. She takes notice of the seemingly effortless way they carry themselves, designer fabrics draped over their forms, the sparkle of expensive jewelry catching the light with turns of their heads or movement of their hands. Laughter rings out, easy, a speaking of their comfort within this space and lifestyle, which is a severe contrast to her own.

She’s roused from these observations, by a feeling, pulling her back into the present moment, her gaze shifting down to the hand that gently encircles her forearm, the warm touch grounding her. Her eyes then trail over, finding Letitia’s eyes searching her own, concern making itself known with the furrowing of her brow.

“You okay?” Her voice is quiet against the sounds of conversation surrounding them.

Genesis is about to nod, to reassure her, when another voice carries over unlike the others.

“Genesis, what is it you do again?”

She leans forward slightly, eyes moving from Letitia’s to find Hunter Schafer sitting a couple seats past Letitia.

“I’m a hair and makeup artist.”

“Right, I remember now.” Hunter leans forward as Genesis did. “Anything exciting coming up for you with the boycott done?”

The question, meant to be light, feels heavy to Genesis, something she wasn’t expecting. But she still manages a stiff chuckle, a mask of professionalism over the slight discomfort.

“No,” she sakes her head simply, looking down slightly, swirling the wine a little. “not right now.”

Letitia, attune to Genesis’ tone, senses the subtle undercurrents, more so fatigue than what others may think of as shame, and she leans forward slightly, head still turned to her.

“After I get a second cap we can leave.” She says quietly.

Genesis responds not with words but with an action, pushing her untouched wineglass towards Letitia.

“I don’t drink.” She nods to her, words quiet.

The moment hangs between them, Letitia tentatively accepting the glass, her mind racing over if this has always been true, if she’d slipped and forgotten, or if this is new. All her memories make her remember her joining in at least one glass.

“Alright,” Letitia nods, gently. “we can leave on your cue.”

Genesis gives her a small smile, watching as she takes a sip before answering another question that fell from Hunter’s lips.

They leave not long after, Letitia taking her hand as they walk down the steps of the restaurant, flashes from cameras shining against the darkness of the night, only stopping and pulling her hand away when they get close to the car, signing an autograph for someone, and taking a picture, Genesis stopping and waiting for her. But just as she turns to step forward towards the car again, there’s this woman, one who had waited outside the belt, getting into her space, and Genesis can see discomfort wash clear over her face, yet still managing to muster the smallest smile, still trying to walk forward regardless.

She apologizes politely to the people surrounding for needing to leave so quick, the rain being a bother, and Genesis follows behind her, placing a hand on her back, both to let her know she’s behind her and to help ground her.

Letitia looks back at the motion for only a second, physically checking that Genesis is behind her before looking forward again, stepping into the limousine, and turning before she sits, a hand out for Genesis to take, helping her in before looking up, speaking to those who were helping them.

“Thank you, bye-bye.”

Within the car ride back to the hotel, the hum of the engine melds with the patting of the rain against the car as it moves through the rain coated streets, creating a lullaby that tugs at the fringes of Genesis’ consciousness. The fatigue of a long day, compounded by the jet lag that’s heavy on her, pulling her into darkness.

And what she finds, behind her eyes, is what she hears against the sounds melting into her sphere. The humming of a man’s voice. The voice rich, vibrating with experience and a calmness, wrapping around her warmly. The notes settling within her heart, speaking to her soul.

She recognizes it, she feels it calling to her.

In her sleep, unbeknownst to her, Genesis’ eyebrows furrow, the stirring of emotions clear on her face, not even stirring even at the sound of her name.

“Gens-“

Letitia, her attention shifting from the soft glow of her phone’s screen, catches herself as her eyes fall on the sight of her, realizing she had given into her evident exhaustion, discomfort clear on her face, her neck slightly craned in an uncomfortable position, her gaze softens. She gently and carefully guides Genesis’ head to rest on her shoulder, providing a pillow of support.

In that instant, deeper in her dreams, Genesis sees something different, an adult, face unseen, almost cut-off like in a movie scene, but there’s a child, eyes closed, head on their shoulder, asleep admits the falling rain. She recognizes it as a younger version of her, her child-like form.

Suddenly, she hears the elderly voice echo amongst the atmosphere, its timbre warmth and familiarity wrapping around her similar to the humming of the notes, still a distant background heard.

The same benediction.

And with a featherweight touch, Letitia places a kiss on Genesis’ head, a gesture as protective as it is affectionate, and Genesis hears the man’s words echo within.

“Take care on the road, Genesis.”

#letitia wright #letitia wright fanfic #letitia fanfic #shai’s oc #no woman no cry fic

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