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formula1blog · 3 days

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Carlos Sainz 55- spending time

Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.

Wc: 2,8k

Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!

DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE

It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day.

This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up.

"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.

Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.

Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "

"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?"

"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes.

He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!"

"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.

You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment.

You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.

You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country.

Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."

The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.

"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.

"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement.

As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband.

You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation.

"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends.

After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend.

Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.

"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop.

"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money."

"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much."

"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence.

It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop.

"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food. "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes.

"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too.

Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.

You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment.

He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes.

Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it.

You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap.

You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt.

You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep. You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "

He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."

He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.

He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out your orgasms.

Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."

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madaqueue · 3 days

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Good Boy

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.5k

a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet

“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.

“I know,” you smile from behind him.

Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.

The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.

His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.

“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.

Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.

In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.

“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.

Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.

“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”

He bought them the next day.

But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.

The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.

“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.

“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”

Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.

As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.

Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.

Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.

“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.

You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”

He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.

The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.

Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.

Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.

Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.

“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”

He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.

“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.

He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.

“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.

Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.

Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.

Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.

No, it was something else.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.

His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.

“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”

The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?

Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.

You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.

It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.

Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.

“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.

Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.

Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.

His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.

As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.

“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.

“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.

Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.

A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.

Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.

His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.

What the fuck happened to him?

Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”

Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.

Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.

Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints

Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.

Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.

Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.

But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.

Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.

“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.

He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.

“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.

“I-I’m gonna-”

You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”

His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.

But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.

“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Say please.”

Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?

“Please,” he whispers.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.

Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.

“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”

Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.

You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.

He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.

The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.

“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.

Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him

“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.

As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.

“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.

“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.

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wrappedinthemilkyway · 3 days

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A Lover's Embrace

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: After ignoring your anxiety for too long, it all comes out. Luckily, Joel is there to hold you through it.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Joel, can imagine game!Joel or tvshow!Joel, can be pre-outbreak or post-outbreak, reader has no desciption, petnames, crying, anxiety and difficult emotions, comfort

Word Count: 1.4k

a/n: I have had nothing but anxiety for the past couple of weeks and finally had some room to breathe so I decided to write a little comfort piece.

You’d spent the entire week trying to ignore the feeling that had been bubbling inside you.

The first three days were spent in denial. The anxiety that had started to swirl in you lingered more like a nuisance than a real threat. You couldn’t understand why it was there, why now.

So you pushed through it, carried on with your daily tasks as though it wasn’t there.

But after those first few days of denial, it had become unbearable. It was impossible to escape the feeling that was overtaking your body, the sensation digging deeper and deeper into your chest until you were sure you would collapse in on yourself.

It had become suffocating, and that suffocation only magnified what you were feeling. A week into feeling this way, with no end or remedy in sight, the anxiety within started to bubble and leak out.

There was a sadness mingling with it now. A feeling of despair, of frustration, with yourself as much as it had also been about the unwanted feeling.

Through it all, the main priority had been caging it in and locking it up, determined to not let it interfere with your life or with Joel’s.

Joel had been busy, too. The more he was needed by others, the longer he spent away from home. When he’d return to your shared home late into the evening, you already in bed, you didn’t have the heart to lean on him. He was carrying so much. He always carried too much. And you didn’t want him to have to carry you despite his exhaustion.

This night wasn’t very different from those other nights.

Joel was still not home. The darkness of the night had already started to take over the sky, and the house you occupied had become silent once again. And that feeling, that anxiety, only grew in that silence.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips as you aimlessly walked through the space, eyes scanning for ways to distract yourself from the feeling taking over. Hand pressed to your chest, an attempt at grounding yourself, as you tried to steady your breathing.

You moved into the kitchen, deciding that tea would help, that the warmth would somehow end the anxiety. The heat, however - like every other night so far -, did nothing. It instead felt like the warmth was scorching you, the heat of your anxiety mingling with the tea, fueled by it.

You tried everything. You did those breathing exercises, you opened a window; you’d even tried touching something soft, a blanket Joel had gifted you, in hopes that it would somehow replicate his presence and ground you. But nothing worked.

Tears of frustration gathered at your eyes, and you began to make your way into your bedroom, hoping that sleep would come faster than all the previous nights. Hoping that the feeling would end.

You watched as the clock kept moving. 8pm. 9pm. 10pm. And then, finally, 11pm.

The lack of sleep and the constant state of tension your body had been in the past few days was not enough for you to fall asleep. Your body ached, heavy and exhausted from the stress it had been put under. A dull throb lingered in your head, eyes burning as you closed them. The tears had started falling, no longer contained.

You eventually heard the front door open, the sound loud in the silence despite the way Joel was trying to be careful with it. You wiped your tears away, closing your eyes and turning your back to the door, hoping that he would think you were asleep just as he had done all the other nights.

His steps resounded as he made his way to your shared bedroom. The door creaked open slowly, and you could feel rather than hear Joel make his way toward the bed. The sound of Joel undressing and getting ready to join you was the only sound in the room.

You felt the bed dip behind you as he lowered himself onto it, a small grunt escaping his lips. He shuffled, moving himself into a comfortable position on his back, and the sigh of exhaustion and relief that came out of him at the feeling of finally resting brought a new batch of tears to your eyes. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. You’re just a burden.

You felt Joel slowly move toward you, his arm snaking around your torso and pulling you against his chest just as he always did. You tried to stifle the sound of your sobs, but the shaking of your body and small sniffle that escaped you was immediately felt and heard by him.

His hand pulled you into him tighter, his head lifting from the pillow to look at your face, studying whether you were awake or not.

Joel immediately sat up, his torso reaching across you to turn on the lamp beside your head. The sudden light made you squint, eyes clenching even tighter, but Joel cradled your face gently in his palms, turning you towards him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He whispered, the concern obvious in his voice as much as the exhaustion was. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

His eyes scanned your body, hand lifting the sheets so he could see if you were in any visible pain.

You shook your head, hand moving on top of the one cradling your face to keep it there. The tears kept falling, everything that had been locked away for so long finally spilling out of you.

“‘m not hurt, I just-” you whispered back. “I don’t feel good.”

He pulled you into him, body cradled in his arms as he held you against his chest, face gazing down at you as you lay there wrapped in him.

“Your head hurt?” He asked, still unsure of what was wrong.

You shook your head at him, the tears still falling as you try to lean even further into him.

“No, I’m not in pain, Joel.” You sniffled.

“Baby, you’re making me worried- what’s going on?” He asked, hand rubbing a soothing pattern on your back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Something’s not right but I don’t know what. I just… I feel so scared. I’m so anxious.” You whisper.

He moves to press a kiss to the top of your head before pulling the sheets over his body and yours, intertwining you together, pulling you into him.

You lie there in silence for a while, your confession heavy in the air. The sound of his breathing and his heartbeat at your ear begins to slowly lull you from your panic. The warmth of his body was soaking into yours, the strength of his embrace making you feel safer than you had done in a very long time.

“How can I make it better?” He whispers, finally. “I don’t… I don’t want you to feel that way but I don’t know what to do for you.”

You move your head, finally facing him, and lean to press a soft kiss onto his lips. “Just hold me.” You whisper to him.

He nods his head, pressing an equally soft kiss onto your lips as he keeps his arms wrapped around you. The silence continues, his arms and presence grounding you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper to him, feeling new tears start to gather at your waterline.

“What are you sorry for?” He whispers, the confusion audible in his voice.

“‘m sorry you’re having to stay up with me right now. You should be sleeping, you’ve had a long day.” You sniffle.

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that, darlin’.” He whispers. “I want to stay up with you.”

He presses a kiss to your lips.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do to make you feel better.” He reassures you, another kiss pressed to your lips. “I love you.”

The warmth of his words and his actions brought a comfort you hadn’t had that entire week. And while the fear and anxiety hadn’t completely disappeared, you could feel them slowly ebbing away.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller fluff #joel miller comfort #soft!joel miller #joel miller x you

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desi2go · 17 hours

Text

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst

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lydiimae · 2 days

Text

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

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daydreaming-nerd · 1 day

Text

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.

Word Count: 7,238

The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so.

Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet.

He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely.

I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand.

“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided.

“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”

“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting.

Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention.

“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted.

“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked.

Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed.

“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable.

“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door.

“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm.

“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for.

“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.”

“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer.

“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.”

Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was.

“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”

“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,” I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.”

“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.”

My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much.

I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in.

“We haven’t done this since-”

“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence.

“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?”

“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled.

“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide.

“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.

“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.”

“Don’t let Cassian know that,” Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed.

“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed.

It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did.

Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.

“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.

“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay.

I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink.

“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did.

“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder.

“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror.

I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly.

“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face.

“Will you teach me how to fight? I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away. I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day.

“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs.

I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn.

When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me.

“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.

“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down.

“But Cass I’m fine-”

“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right.

“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him.

He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine. Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.

“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.”

“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose.

“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him.

Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body. The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”

Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted on my stomach.

“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up.

“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them.

My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children.

A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for.

What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?

“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water.

“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response.

“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-”

“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy, I just need you.”

“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies. I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.”

He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand.

“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.

“Now I’m never letting you go”

The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love.

“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother.

There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues.

“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”

“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips.

I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days.

“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band.

“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest.

“Whatever makes you happy my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair.

We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be.

The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal.

I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.

“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him.

“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.

“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him.

“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips.

I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss.

His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”

“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum.

“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.”

“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall.

His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.

“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.”

My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me.

As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance, a concerned look on his face.

“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong.

“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati.

Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.

“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.

He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly.

“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him.

Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.

“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest.

“Yes,” I nod.

In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend.

The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city.

As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up.

When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away. Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.

We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.

“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,” Rhysand’s voice boomed.

It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.

“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me. Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?

I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.

“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it. While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.

“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning.

“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.”

“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly.

My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.

Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.

“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir.

Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down.

Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.

“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.”

“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.”

Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.

“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm.

Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room.

I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.

“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins.

Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage.

“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself.

Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through.

“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive.

“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne.

“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through.

Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.

“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him.

“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”

My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now.

“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.

“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away.

I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.

He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly.

“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides.

I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough.

I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor.

“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts.

I was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me.

His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.

“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.

My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.

“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine.

“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him.

“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple.

“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest.

“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me.

If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.

“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more.

My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing.

“Oh Cass,” I moaned, my nails raking across his back.

“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?”

His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated.

“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”

His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly.

“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment.

He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.

I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst.

“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on.

“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.

In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.

“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-”

“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.

“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.

The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down.

“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.

He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.

“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”

“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly.

“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck.

“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his.

“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.

“What?” he says, caught off guard.

“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.

“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle.

“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face.

“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.

Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 , @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always

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hellcat8908 · 1 day

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Come Home Poly Batboys x Female Reader

Note: This is part 2 of Let Her Go

Warnings: Language

Over the last few weeks, the letters from Azriel and Cassian had piled up in a basket by the door. They sat unopened and ignored as you gave yourself the time to process the events of that night. It was no surprise that Azriel had learned where you were living, not that you were trying to hide anyway. The gossip around you and your mates had only worsened since you left. You first tried therapy, but they only seemed to be interested in details about your mates and not what you needed to work through, so you quickly gave up. Instead, you turned to journaling as a way to get your emotions and thoughts out and somewhat organized.

You currently sat in your favorite chair with your journal in your lap as you wrote out your feelings for the day. A series of harsh knocks disrupted you, causing you to leave your journal on the end table. You were surprised to see Rhys standing at your doorstep. You're tempted to slam the door in his face, but think better of it. "What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously. "I want to talk to you." He says, his voice sounding rough. "We have nothing to talk about." You answer. "I think we both know that's not true. Please, y/n." He says with a certain sadness.

"You said everything you needed to say that night. You made it clear where I stand with you." You say as his words come flooding back to your mind. You move to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. "Please, I'm only asking for a few minutes of your time and for you to listen." He says pleadingly. Your anger rises at his words. "Only asking for a few minutes of my time and for me to listen?! No, you're asking for so much more than that. You're asking for me to relive the worst night of my life. You're asking me to let you in and open wounds that's that haven't had a proper chance to heal because I'm drowning in it. I have no one to talk to while the three of you have each other. So, no, you're not only asking for my time and for me to listen!"

He at least has the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-" he starts to say, but you interrupt him. "That's the problem, you don't think, especially when it comes to me. You only think about yourself and your court. You're an amazing high lord but a terrible mate." You say as you let the anger take over. "I think it's best if you leave." You tell him. "I'm sorry." He says brokenly as he turns away. Once the door shuts behind you, you crumple to the floor, allowing the pain and anger to consume you as you fall apart. You let all the hurt and anger flood the bond so they might finally realize what they've put you through.

You manage to force yourself out of bed two days later. You make breakfast before grabbing the paper from the doorstep. Your eyes widen at the headline. You throw on some clothes and quickly braid your hair before making your way into Velaris. You don't bother knocking and let yourself in. You practically run to Rhys's office where you find him along with Cassian and Azriel. They stare at you in surprise. "What do you think you're doing?!" You demand as you focus your attention on Rhys. "What needed to be done." He says. "No! You stepping down as high lord is the worst thing you could do for this court!" You respond angrily.

"But the best thing I could do for us! You're tired of coming second to my court. Well, this is the solution." He replies. "It's not the solution! It's you overreacting!" You shout. "You're not stepping down as high lord! If you do, I will disappear without a trace, and you will never see me again!" You shout. "There is just no winning with you. Is there?! No matter what I do, it isn't right!" Rhys shouts. "Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?! All I wanted was for you to respect my feelings and stop treating me as anything less than your mate!" You shout before you feel the warmth of Cassian's arm as he pulls you from the room while Azriel stops Rhys from following.

Cassian carries you to the bedroom and blocks the door before sitting you down. "What the hell, Cass?!" You ask. "You tell me!" He says as he crosses his arms. "What is it going to take for you to forgive us?!" He asks angrily as he runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Those months of silence you're punishing us for are bullshit. You didn't speak up either. You never once addressed it with us or the ones gossiping. We just assumed you were ignoring it like the rest of us. You share just as much blame in this as we do." He says before storming out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sit on the oversized bed you all once shared. You run your fingers over the comforter. You curl up in the bed and allow a few tears to escape. You hold the pillow that smells of Azriel as you find comfort in it. You think about what Cassian said as you lay in silence. You zone out until a knock pulls you back to reality. Azriel opens the door, "is it ok if I come in?" He asks. He takes your silence as a yes and sits on the bed beside you. "Did you come to yell at me too?" You ask. "No, I brought you some tea and a muffin from your favorite bakery." He says.

"How did everything get so bad?" You ask, ignoring his offer. "A lot of things went left unsaid from all of us until it spiraled into something toxic." He says honestly. "Think we can ever get back to the way it was?" You ask. "Do you want to?" He questions in response. "I want it to be better." You answer honestly, "but I'm worried we won't be able to move past this." His shadows gently play with your hair, causing you to visibly relax. "All we can do is try." He says softly. "They hate me so much, though." You say as you choke back a sob. He wraps his arms around you, "Nobody hates you, princess. We all just need to calm down and discuss what needs to change moving forward." He says, always being the voice of reason to you.

#acotar #batboys #acotar fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #poly batboys #acotar angst

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little-sleepy-owl · 2 days

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.

this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.

oh? so, you're just like him.

the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?

though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.

but… becoming your first?

“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”

it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.

that's a first for him too, after all.

give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.

a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!

hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)

now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.

he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.

you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.

you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.

none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.

judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.

inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.

(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)

he needs to talk things out first.

“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”

the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.

he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.

his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.

and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.

he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?

jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.

he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.

you never saw this, either.

he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.

“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–

you don't want to continue this thought right now.

he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.

he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.

his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.

he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.

he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.

he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.

but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.

that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.

if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.

expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.

he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.

it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.

humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.

but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.

set some boundaries and you'll be alright.

once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.

will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.

he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #romantic/sexual

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billskeis · 3 days

Note

Hi, could you do Bill Kaulitz imagine, comforting the female reader, because it's been very stressful for her lately?

ᡣ𐭩 boyfie bill who nurtures his gf

you slam the door, flinching, you didn’t expect it to be so loud although it was intentionally you’re doing. bill welcomes you with open arms but you walk right past him, a pout forming on his face. he swears he can see the storm clouds floating above your head, today was just not a good day. or week, you’ve been stressed for some time.

“schatzi, bad day?” all you could do was sigh and nod, back facing to him but he can still see the motion of your head moving up and down. this is all he needs for him to sweep you off your feet and face you now hand in hand, twirling you to meet each other’s eyes. “bill?” you ask.

he smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands as you nuzzle your nose into his palms, taking in his scent. home, bill smelled so much like home. you feel a little bit more comfort knowing that you have someone like him in your life, “you’ve done so much this week baby.. let me show you some appreciation,” “bill, i’ve got more work to do..”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “i won’t take no for an answer, c’mon, you deserve it. how ‘bout a bath? and while you’re in, i can cook a meal.. after that, we can watch a movie, do face masks, snack on whatever we want..? just—spend time with me—you’ve overworked yourself, now lemme paper you ja?”

you hesitate. your office job clearly working you to the bone. just paperwork after paperwork, call after call. no lunch break, overtime. you’re boss is an asshole. you only have one or two friends at work, the rest of them dare not to associate with you. a day to you and bill.. does sound pretty nice.. well, fuck it, those corporate slaves can go kick rocks.

you pull bill in for a hug, a nice squeeze and the way your face dug into his chest was all he needed to realize your approval. kissing the top of your head, he breathes you in, “my beautiful angel.. let’s go run you that bath hm?” “mmhm..” taking your hand, he leads you to your shared bathroom.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

sitting in the warmth of the bath tub, bubbles are all that surround you as the faint scent of coconut and vanilla fill the room. you dip your body further into the big puddle of water, submerging yourself, body and muscle finally relaxing from all the tension and strain your poorly funded office chair has you stuck in for a consecutive eight hours.

a patter of small footsteps come closer as you’re now met with your boyfriend sitting at the edge of the bath tub. “how s’that feel? feel better?” “definitely, i needed this so much.. thank you baby,” bill runs the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, slightly adding pressure to message the tension out of your body. just a slight touch is more than enough.

“it’s my duty as your boyfriend.. been working so hard my pretty girl, a lil’ self care don’t hurt doesn’t it?” you scoff at him, knowing of your workaholic tendencies. on multiple occasions bill has offered many times a self care day as such, which always ends with a decline. you were so stubborn, a determined individual to get your work done but at what cost? this, is way better than that stupid office job.

“bill,”

“yes baby?”

“i smell something burning,”

“oh shit—mwah—THE FOOD!!!”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you and bill had ended up ordering takeout for the night. as you two cuddle on the couch covered in blankets, bill sulks as he takes a bite of his pad thai. “bill! it’s okay, i appreciate the gesture, you’ve done enough baby i promise.” “no! no baby it was—it was supposed to be perfect for you. i stayed up all night researching comfort foods and i couldn’t even do a simple recipe like that..” he stayed up all night?

as he fusses in his spot, his face mask threatens to slip off his face from so much facial expression movement. you use your fingers to fix and adjust the sheet mask back comfortably onto his face, the cooling sensation once again touching his plush cheeks. “billy, it’s okay, it’s just food.. next time okay?” “next time :D? we can do this next time :D?”

you giggle and laugh at him, he’s so cute. linking arms with him, you scarf down on the fried rice, it was really good. you think about how good bill’s cooking would taste, known for being a great home chef. well, to you and tom at least. your day was made so much better, all warm and cozy inside, so grateful to have bill in your life.

you look at bill who’s already looking at you. he asks you if you were okay because he’d been watching you eat this whole time and saw how you seemed lost in thought. you reassure him, letting him know that you are just thankful that he’s doing all this for you, he can only cheekily smile and tell you ‘you deserve it, my beautiful princess, s’glad i was able to make your day.’

you take each other’s face masks off. you massage the essence of the face mask onto bill’s face. he closes his eyes for better leverage as you gently press your fingers into his cheeks, forehead and every nook and cranny of his face. you tap his face so he can open his eyes as you finally finish. as you raise your hands to start on yours, bill swats them away and tells you ‘lemme do it!’ as he brings his own to massage your cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he starts.

you think about a resignation.

oooookay this one was bad . sorry guys D: i appear to be losing my spark

FRET NOT ! i am not leaving , just probably won’t be as active as i think i’ll be . will occasionally post :3

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp #billskeis

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raeyamour · 3 days

Text

IN GOLD AND FRENCH PERFUME.

pairing: daddy's associate toji x shiu's (legal) daughter reader minors please dni !

Toji's breath hitches, his chest rising raggedly when you place a small kiss on the crook of his throat, leaving a pretty red mark from your lipstick in its wake. Your wide eyes meet his wild, green ones and he feels like the worst man alive.

He was wearing a gentlemanly dress shirt, seemingly putting to rest his Lothario-esque persona just for tonight. Though even that shirt stretched tight against the weighty expanse of his muscled chest, as you reached your hands up and allowed your deep red nails to trail gently over where his nipple would be on its black fabric. His own hands, veiny and thick and coarse as they were, reached the curve of your waist and dragged heavily along your hips. His soft hair brushed against the skin of your neck as he dipped his head to kiss down on your shoulder — but that was just him being a little friendly, surely?

He spoke up now, voice more gravelly and softer than usual.

“Yer daddy’s gonna be home soon.”

He mutters it, turning his head a little to not catch the amber scent of your sensual French perfume when you place slender arms around his thick neck. If you had leaned back just slightly, you'd have observed the way his Adam’s apple conjured a small, dipping motion when your gaze met his, the shade of his eyes altering themselves from a light green to stormy hues of grey viridescence when you flash a gentle grin at his breathlessness.

Those thin, dark brows of his were as furrowed as they could be — and he'd resorted to cuss words, brain muddled almost entirely thanks to you.

According to him, you were “bein’ a fuckin’ minx” and for heaven’s sake, you seemed to take no pity on his poor heart.

("'M gettin' older y'know," he'd mumble into your neck sometime that night.)

After all, Toji was only just a man and could only handle so much temptation before he'd resort to committing unspeakable sins within the comfort of your white silk-encased mattress.

He’d newly escaped the clutches of the Zenin Clan — he didn’t need any more trouble coming into his way so soon. But here you were — trouble — packaged with a dainty, pretty little necklace falling between the swells of your breasts, which looked plumper under the silk of your black nightgown. That, combined with the dim warmth of Shiu's office lighting, set an atmosphere neither of you two commented on verbally.

Unfortunately, or fortunately — depending on how you looked at it, your bodies communicated volumes on how the moody lighting and the sex eyes were affecting you down between your thighs.

Mind, Toji would’ve had his way with you ages ago — if you hadn't been his employer’s daughter. Before you, he'd almost accepted his womaniser reputation, regardless of how terribly mischaracterised it made him out to be.

If anything, the womanizing that he had later adapted helped him gain some sort of company, albeit of sexual nature, during lonely nights in the isolation of his minimalistic bedroom.

(Not that he was into minimalism — he just didn't give a fuck about decorating)

The soft moans filled the high ceilings of his apartment to replace music he'd play on nights when silence rang especially louder without someone special in his life, and the warmth of a stranger woman's body against his brought his emotionally-constipated ass some level of consolation.

But he'd bury himself six feet underground if anyone asked him why on earth he'd pictured every woman in his bed to be you.

If Shiu got even a whiff of this shit, he’d beat Toji’s not-so-sorry ass — (metaphorically, of course, the man could never actually take him) — and fling him out into some fiery volcano that constituted as the closest earthly experience to Hell. Mind, it was probably where he was going in his afterlife, what with the hundreds of people he’d murdered in his twenty-seven years of life — and the fact that the coarseness of his hands now grasped desperately at places on your body that only Satan could applaud.

"Do me a favour, baby?" He mumbles, a deep breathy sound that hits the curve of your neck and brushes against the tip of your ear. His resolve had completely cracked by the time he finished his plead.

"Don't kiss 'n tell on me? Please?"

And it was hard to not comply — not as he'd let out a soft, sexy huff to match your gasp when his hands cupped your tits and his thumbs brushed over the thin fabric of your silky black nightgown, right over the hardened buds of your areola. Certainly not when he pulled you closer, mumbling a soft "'m so sorry, 'm terrible" as he's pushing you between himself and your father's office table to kiss down your body. His plump, pink lips kiss and lick and bite along your neck, nipples, stomach, hips —

("I-I know, sweetheart." He'd mutter against your navel as your trembling hands reach for his hair gently)

Toji now feels like a shell of his former pride, kneeling in front of you, with his face level with the wetness between your thighs. Here, sex eyes became more pronounced, green eyes growing darker, stormier, as he proceeded to look up at you and almost, almost, beg to have his way with you.

Contrary to popular belief, though, he'd always been a sweetheart to you — this was, regardless of the fact that you were a young woman now, his employer's 'little' girl, after all.

But now, that you'd reached manicured hands behind you, back arching on the deep brown wood of Shiu's office desk as Toji's nose brushed against the hood of your clit, his hands groped at the soft skin of your thighs, pulling you closer when you let out the softest sound.

And he almost moans.

Somewhere in the distance, you had smoke-velvet vocals playing, your own moans melding into the gentle music that floated indistinctly into the room.

This was his doing and he took a possessed level of pride in that, all shame utterly abandoned the moment you'd pressed a chaste, innocent kiss into the crook of his neck. He let your stuttering hips rock your body onto his face, huffing softly against the crevices of your pussy as he pushed his tongue a little deeper because, God, you had to make that sound again.

The caresses of the night would bleed into day and Toji would have been in your bed, breathing in the scent of you and both of your lovemaking from the prior night as he pulled you closer into the crevices of his tough muscles. The two of you must have somehow reached your room during your indulgences in one another the night before, and Toji didn't feel like leaving... not with the warmth of your soft breasts against his chest, your arm stretched over his chest as your hand runs up the expanse of his neck.

He'd hum in love and in delight, though he'd never admit to caring for you as much as he did — not when expressing love felt so alien to him.

And if Shiu does ever realise the existence of this little affair, one that had his little girl doing things he'd prayed she'd do in the security of marriage and not with some thuggish, morally-grey hitman, Toji would consider grinning a sleazy grin and childishly responding with a gruff "but she started it!"

rae says: hey, baby, ignore the tags bc they're so embarrassing lol. if you think you've read this work before, you probably have. i uploaded this a little while ago but chickened out and deleted my old account — but i think i'm ok with posting it now that i did a little rebrand, ykwim? that's all, love u ! x

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yesimwriting · 2 days

Note

we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm

i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals

but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)

The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.

You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.

"Lex," you beam.

Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.

He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."

"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."

The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."

You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.

As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.

"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"

"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."

For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."

You lift your head. "I know."

"I like doing things with you."

The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."

Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."

Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"

He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."

"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."

You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."

When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."

You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."

You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."

Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."

Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."

He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."

"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."

With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"

You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."

Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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ask-irisstar · 1 day

Note

A fluff sanji x reader story where sanji is having a hard time falling asleep (perchance to his odd sleeping schedule.) and Reader helps him go to bed??

Helping Sanji go to sleep

AN: *takes a deep breath* Ok so... My inbox already has like 5 Sanji asks and this one really caught my eye. I think this is SUPER cute so thanks anon for requesting!! I might be slow in answering asks because of exam period and I have a BIG performance coming on 2 May. However, I'll try my best!!

Notes: Fluff, Sanji x GN reader, Fluff, SFW, quite short I'm sorry, Brook and reader are besties, Reader steals from Zoro, Sanji being a jealous idiot

You couldn't help but feel Sanji tossing and turning in bed beside you. Getting annoyed with your lover's actions, you turned to face him with a light scowl on your face. However, it immediately disappears when your eyes met with sleepy blue eyes. Your blonde boyfriend is exhausted, but according to how restless he is, he can't fall asleep. Gently, you slowly cupped his tired face.

"Baby... You've been tossing for hours... Is something wrong?" You asked, fingers tracing his eye bags.

Sanji shook his head and took your hands, "No dear... I'm fine... Just can't sleep..." He admits, voice laced with drowsiness.

You felt bad for the man beside you. So sleepy, yet can't sleep. Whenever you felt restless and sleepless, Sanji is always there to help you go to sleep. Now, seeing that he is the one that needs help, you didn't hesitate to do so.

"C'mon, follow me to the kitchen... I know something that might help..." You say, taking his hand and dragging a tired Sanji out of bed.

Reluctantly, Sanji obeyed, following you to the only place on the ship he has authority over. In the kitchen, you poured some milk into a glass and slide it over to him. Sanji caught the glass with ease and shot you a questioning look.

"Drink it... It'll help make you sleepy..." You say, smiling gently at your lover.

Sanji stares at you suspiciously for a beat before chugging down the milk. When he's done, you both went to bed and see whether it works. Unfortunately, it didn't work. However, you aren't out of ideas yet. It was a chilly night today and the blanket you two shared is small and thin. You sneakily snuck into Zoro's room and stole his blanket. He's on night watch today so he won't mind. The worst that could happen is that he and Sanji will fight about it the next day. You went back into the room and threw the big green blanket over the two of you. And to sweeten things up, you cuddled near Sanji, providing extra warmth.

However, despite being so cozy and warm, Sanji still couldn't fall asleep. You both were desperate now. Everything you tried didn't work. You tried tiring him out by doing some midnight training, a hot shower, a quick snack, EVERYTHING. And yet, the blonde haired cook still couldn't sleep.

"Give it up Y/N... This useless... Go to sleep... I don't want you tired tomorrow because of me... Besides, we have a long day tomorrow..." Sanji said pushing you back into bed despite your resistence.

"No Sanji, I'm not sleeping until I know you are asleep beside me..." You reply, sitting back up.

Sanji sighs, "But we tried everything mon amour..."

You smirk slyly, "Not everything..."

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

"NO! There is NO way I'm letting that perverted skeleton into our room!" yelled Sanji, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

You rolled your eyes. You and Brook are best friends and nothing more. Yet, Sanji still gets jealous.

"Trust me Sanji, this will help you..." You pleaded, making puppy eyes.

Sanji groans, but relents, "Fine, but if that skeleton so much stares at you, I'm kicking him..."

When Brook enters your bedroom, you requested him to play some soothing music on his violin. He compiles and plays a melodic tune to help Sanji fall asleep. Almost immediately, Sanji's eyes grew heavy. You grab him by the shoulder and pulled him into bed beside you.

"Sleep baby..." You whisper into his ear, tracing random patterns onto his back.

"I love you mon amour... Good night...."

Those were the last things you heard from Sanji before snores came from him. You smiled and snuggled closer to the blonde.

"Good night babe..."

And with that, you two fell into a deep slumber, Brook's soothing music playing in the background.

______________________________________________________________

And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy this anon! Please sent in any more request you have! You can even request other characters! I'm going to go work on my other Sanji asks now!

Link to the song Brook is playing:

youtube

#one piece x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #one piece sanji x reader #fluff #sfw #one piece fluff #im not great with tags #one piece #oneshot #irisstar answers #helping Sanji to sleep #jealous sanji #my first request #I love you anon

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nataliesfirefly · 1 day

Text

chapter 2 - when autumn leaves start to fall

chapter warnings: slight language

wc: 4k

series masterlist

Yet another rainy October evening is upon you as you hurriedly walk to the library, your heavy backpack slung over your shoulder and textbooks clutched in your arms. You forgot your umbrella again. This seems to be a regular occurrence. Though it is only drizzling, so you can manage.

You let out a sigh of relief when you push open one of the double doors, greeted by light, warmth, bookshelves, and tables. You breathe in the familiar, woody scent of old books and their pages.

Not many people are here tonight. In fact, you think it’s just you, besides the librarian, Mrs. Ambrose, at the front desk clacking away on a keyboard. You smile with contentedness, setting down your bag at your usual spot and pulling out your laptop after taking your seat. You yawn and open your biology textbook, before hearing the sound of the door you had just walked through open.

Farleigh. Why is he here, out of all times? He’s such a pest, always around. Everywhere you look, there he is, walking around like he has just graced the student population with his presence.

He stops to chat with Mrs. Ambrose, smiling and chuckling all charmingly. You roll your eyes and try to focus on your biology homework, but suddenly cell division seems a whole lot less interesting.

You glance back up to see him walking over to a table, looking down at his phone the whole way. He eventually sits down and gets his things organized, sighs, and then looks up. His gaze locks onto yours. You hold the eye contact, never one to give up on a challenge, before he glances away and back to his work.

You take it as a sign to get back to your own work. You fish out your notebook from your backpack to write down some extra notes from the textbook. Your biology teacher is sometimes lacking in providing all the right information. You chew on your pen as your eyes scan over the words, your brows knitting together in concentration, But for some reason, you can’t help but feel someone’s gaze upon you.

Interestingly enough, when you look back up from the book, Farleigh is observing you from afar. He quickly looks away once he’s been caught, pretending to stretch, leaning back in his chair and yawning. You go back to your notes.

Wait, you thought that he said he ‘never studies.’ Is this considered studying, or is he just catching up on work? You glance back over to him to possibly find out. You can’t see from this far away though, obviously, so now it just looks like you’re staring at him. His head raises once again and he quirks an eyebrow when he meets your gaze. Something glints in his dark eyes and a smirk plays on his lips. You shake your head to clear your thoughts and glance back down to your textbook.

Eventually, you finish the work you needed to get done, along with the chapter of Wuthering Heights you were assigned to read today. You haul your heavy backpack onto your shoulders, scooping up your books and walking towards the door.

You walk past Farleigh, not daring to look at him as you pass by. Mrs. Ambrose dips her head to you on your way out and you offer a smile. The rain has stopped, thankfully, so you can safely make your way back to your dorm without getting pelted.

The next evening you return to the library around the same time. There’s a few more people here this time, but no one sitting in your usual place. You shuffle over and set your things down before looking around, surveying the large room. You don’t know what or who you’re looking for, but then–

Farleigh. Why is he here again?! Yes, it’s a student library, for anyone who wants to come and enjoy some peace and quiet while studying or doing homework, but he is normally never here. And you would know, because you seem to spend most of your afternoons and evenings here, because if you try to work in your dorm you’ll end up falling asleep.

And tonight, he’s sitting a few tables closer to you than last night. Surely it’s not on purpose. Maybe he doesn’t have a usual spot like you do.

You narrow your eyes and watch him. You’re just observing. Like two competitors in some sport would, analyzing and watching closely for weaknesses or habits. You study his polished and put-together appearance.

Farleigh is not bad looking, you realize. Far from it. Maybe if his personality wasn’t so… well, then maybe he would be attractive. Not to you, though. To someone else. Right?

Your eyes trace the shape of his face, his straight nose, his thick, curly hair that reminds you of a lion’s mane with coiled locks of dark brown and caramel. You watch the dangling pendants on his two stacked necklaces as he leans down over his work, fully concentrated.

The realization that you’ve been looking at him for too long finally catches up with you. You glance away, stealing a quick look from your peripheral to make sure no one saw you doing that.

Someone sits down next to you. “Hey,” A soft voice says your name. You turn to see your friend, Clara. You met her last year in your chemistry class. “Hi, Clara,” You reply with a smile, your voice lowered to match the volume of the quiet chatting around you.

“How are you doing? We haven’t spoken since last year,” She grins, her bright blue eyes sparkling. “I’m doing well. How about yourself?” You respond. “Alright, you know. Just… stressed. I’m trying to pick which uni’s I want to apply to.” She sighs.

“My parents want me to apply to Cambridge, but I know I’m not smart enough to get in. There’s no point. And, well– I really want to study abroad in America,” She explains, her smile broadening at the mention of her desires. You remember a few things about Clara, and one of them is that she really likes to talk. She will overshare any details about her life to anyone who’s willing to listen. You already know you won’t be getting anything else done tonight as long as she’s here.

“You are smart, Clara. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” You pat her shoulder. You aren’t exactly sure that she is smart enough to get into Cambridge, but you offer the reassurance anyway like a good friend should. She shakes her head. “Last year I nearly failed my exams. Oh, I have an idea!” Her voice gets a bit louder due to her excitement, and a few people turn to look at the two of you.

“Sorry.” She clears her throat. “You should help me. You know, to study, get better scores… And I won’t copy off of you like I did last year. I promise.” She whispers. “Even if I want to go to school in the states, I need better marks. Besides, you’re the smartest person here. It would be such a helpful favor,” She bats her eyelashes and looks at you hopefully.

“Oh. Thanks.” Before registering anything else she just said, all you seem to have retained were the words ‘You’re the smartest person here.’ In your mind right now, you’re giggling and squealing. Maybe Clara is just saying that because she’s trying to convince you to become her tutor, but regardless, it makes you feel important. Take that, Farleigh.

You regain your composure. “I would love to help you, Clara. Just give me a call whenever you would like to study.” She nods eagerly.

“This will be so very helpful for midterms!” She claps her hands together softly. “Thank you so much!” She abruptly stands up and grabs her bag. “You can stay if you like–” You begin.

“I didn’t actually come here to work. I just like the… atmosphere.” She gestures to the room. You nod. “Ah.” She’s going to be an interesting person to teach.

“Well, have a good night!” She spins on her heel and skips toward the front, earning a few judgmental glances from the other students. You sit there and ponder whether you should have committed to helping her. It’s just another thing to add to your plate. When you look around for Farleigh, you realize he’s already gone. You let out a long sigh.

One Sunday afternoon, you are taking a walk outside around the campus, breathing in the crisp autumn air and listening to the warm-colored leaves crunching under your feet. You enjoy walks, they take your mind off of things, like the work you need to do, or how you need to call your mom, or that you not only have a calculus test tomorrow, but a biology test too.

You find yourself walking up the stairs to one of the lesser known corridors, in one of the older parts of the school. It’s slightly dim and a little bit creepy, with dust particles dancing around in the small amount of natural light.

And then, you hear a melody floating down the hallway. You raise an eyebrow and peer down the hall. It sounds like a piano.

You start to wonder if you’re in a horror movie or if you’re just imagining things. Usually, this is your secret spot for when you want to be alone because no one really goes there. Except today, the one time when you really need to be alone.

Nevertheless, you’re curious about the source of the sound. It’s a beautiful song, and it sounds familiar. You slowly walk, stopping at the end of the hall when you see a doorway. You look into the room. It’s a strange, small room with a high ceiling and walls of old stone, painted by the sunshine shining through the colorful stained glass. And in the middle of the room, an elegant and timeless grand piano and… Farleigh?

He continues playing, lost in a trance, his fingers gracefully moving over the keys and producing beautiful chords. There is also no sheet music in front of him. He’s playing all this from memory? How is he so good at everything? You wouldn’t have expected him to be a pianist, though. He’s too… loud and annoying. But right now, he’s almost a completely different person. Calm, serene, focused.

Suddenly he stops playing. “I can see you,” He says. You curse under your breath. “Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—“ You stutter, not knowing why you’re nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, you did,” Farleigh responds sarcastically. He sighs and stares down at the black and white keys. You awkwardly walk over, your shoes scuffing against the stone floor.

“I didn’t know you played piano,” You stand beside the piano, your hand resting atop the smooth black surface. “Not many people do.” He says, playing some random chords absentmindedly.

“So.. it’s just a hobby of yours?” You ask. He looks up at you, surprised that you’re interested. “Pretty much. I don’t play often, it’s just something I do when I’m bored.” He says casually, like being this talented is a regular occurrence. He scoots over slightly on the bench and you step forward tentatively, trying to decipher whether he wants you to sit down next to him or not. There’s no change in his expression, so you take it as a sign to sit down.

It’s like there’s some truce between the two of you when you’re not in a classroom or the library. Like right now, the competition seems to leave and there’s only a peaceful kind of atmosphere left in its wake.

“Did you have a piano? Back home, I mean?” You ask with a soft smile, tilting your head. Farleigh shakes his head. “No. Well, yes. I would go over to my neighbors’ house and use their piano.” He explains, his voice gentle compared to his usual stark tone.

“So you were self taught?” You question, genuinely curious. “Yeah. Unless you count a bunch of music books as a teacher,” He jokes. You laugh quietly.

“My neighbors, back in the states… they were the family I never had. My dad left, and my mom– well, she was out of it. Half of the time I never knew where she was. She was either out drinking or doing drugs.” He explains, still gazing down at the piano keys. “They ended up taking care of me most of the time. And whenever I needed a break from the chaos, I just went over there and played piano until I couldn’t think about my problems anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence as you feel sorrow for him wash over you. You never knew he had such a rough past. You turn to him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m awful at piano.” You chuckle at your own words and Farleigh turns to look at you. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips, just barely visible. “Thanks. It does.” He nods and gives in to the smile. The quietness lingers and you just look at each other for a moment, observing and analyzing one another. That is, until your leg brushes against his and you inhale sharply as you’re quickly taken out of the moment. “Sorry.” You chuckle quietly and stand up, stepping away from the bench. He raises his eyebrows at you as you scuttle towards the doorway.

“Um. See you… soon.” You awkwardly wave before walking speedily down the hallway and towards the stairs that you had originally gone up a few minutes ago. What was that? You’ve never been that friendly with Farleigh before. He’s never been that talkative around you. Except for when it came to insults, of course.

You walk back to your dorm, hoping that whatever that was, he would never bring it up in conversation. You won’t mention it either.

A few days later, you are going to the library again. After making a 95 on your last calculus assessment, you’ve decided it’s time to take your studying up a notch. Clearly you’re not doing enough right now.

You walk in. Thursday evenings at the library are typically pretty busy, but tonight there’s only a few other students here. You head towards your usual spot after giving Mrs. Ambrose a quick nod and a smile.

It’s almost as if you have a sixth sense for when Farleigh is around. Sure enough, he’s here, in the library, sitting in your spot. Everyone knows it’s your seat. No one ever sits there because you’ve basically claimed it. Unless he’s an idiot, he’s definitely doing this on purpose.

“You’re in my spot.” You stand next to the table and scowl down at him. It takes him a moment to finish what he’s writing down before he glances up at you, as if you’re unimportant.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know we had assigned seats in this library.” He says with a harsh glare and a sharp tone. “Oh, okay,” You give him your best fake smile, saccharine and disingenuous. “Now get out of my chair.” You hiss, dropping your grin.

“There’s so many other places to sit, why should I have to move?” He leans back and crosses his arms sassily. “Because.” You state simply. “What a persuading reason.” He replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about you shut your mouth, gather your things, and move to another table?” You suggest, leaning forward and placing both hands on the table to hopefully intimidate him.

“Sorry. You’ll just have to sit somewhere else tonight,” He smiles and tilts his head, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. You groan. Suddenly, you get a brilliant idea as you glance around.

“Oh my God, Farleigh, you seriously failed your biology test?” You say, your voice raised so everyone in the library can hear. Several heads turn and quieted gasps and giggles can be heard. Farleigh stands up immediately and grabs your arm, pulling you close to him, only separated by the table, which is now pressing against you painfully.

“Fuck off and go find someone else to bother.” He mutters, his face very close to yours, your noses almost touching. You stare into his eyes, which are dark and full of anger. Your plan succeeded. You got a rise out of him, as you had hoped.

He shoves you away, releasing your arm from his tight grasp and sitting back down, letting out a sharp sigh. You turn away so he doesn’t see the grin on your face as you walk off to another table nearby, only accepting your defeat because you got him so riled up.

It’s laughable how easily you can both switch from being friendly to hating each other’s guts. It’s as if the moment in the piano room the other day never even happened. Farleigh clearly seems to have wiped it from his memory, based on how he just responded to you.

You fish your copy of Wuthering Heights out of your bag and pick up where you left off. You’re surprised that you’ve actually somewhat enjoyed this book. You’re excited for the final project and what your essay prompt is going to be.

Your phone buzzes with a text message, so you pull it out of your pocket and set your book down to check who it is. It’s Clara. The text reads:

Hey queen! I’ve got a really important history test tomorrow so I was wondering if you could help me study tonight? Lmk! xx

You sigh and realize you must follow through with your plans. You said you would help her, so now you need to. You text back.

Ofc Clara, no problem xx Come to the library I’m there right now.

You send the text and set your phone down, leaning back in your chair and yawning. Now you wait for Clara to show up.

You steal a glance at Farleigh, who��s writing away in his notebook. Must be for the lab report in biology. You already got that done yesterday. You’re one step ahead of him, like usual.

Clara enters the library, her skirt rolled up to be as short as possible and her black socks pulled high up to her knees. She’s always been one to show off her appearance, like her long legs or her voluminous blonde hair, although she typically ended up getting dresscoded by her teachers.

She spots you and grins, waving excitedly as she prances over to your table. “Hey love! Thanks so much for the help on such short notice. I only remembered the test, like, twenty minutes ago. I was like, oh God. I’m done for if I don’t study.” She rambles after she sits down, running a hand through her hair. You nod, trying to be an active listener but you’d rather be jumping out the window right now.

“And then I remembered, I don’t really know how to study. But now I have you!” Clara leans forward suddenly and throws her arms around you. You grimace as you’re forced into the embrace, trying to fake a smile as you breathe in her signature scent, marshmallows and vanilla.

“Right. Yep, that’s why I’m here… Heh.” You chuckle awkwardly as you pull away from the hug. Clara releases you from her boa constrictor grasp.

“Anyways. Are you going to the Halloween party Saturday night?” She asks, brushing through her hair with her fingers. “I didn’t even know there’s a Halloween party.” You respond, raising an eyebrow. “Of course there is! It’s going to be so much fun. You should come!” She pokes you in the arm playfully.

“I’m not sure… I don’t have a costume or anything–” Clara waves her hand, dismissing your concerns. “Excuses, excuses. You can make a costume out of anything in your closet. Don’t even stress about it, babe.” She pats your shoulder. “I’m here to help.”

“But where is the actual party going to be?” You ask confusedly. “In the student lounge, underneath the dorms, you know?” She explains. You picture the lounge full of students chatting and bustling around. It makes sense, the lounge is basically big enough to be a mini-library, with bookshelves and couches and various spots to sit and hang out with your friends.

You consider the idea. “I guess I could go… Alright. I’ll be there.” Clara gasps at your words. “Yay! Now, let’s think of an outfit for you, yeah?”

It’s safe to say that you and Clara did not get any studying done whatsoever. You tried to bring the topic back to medieval history, but it was no use. Clara chatted endlessly as she usually does, regaling you with riveting tales of her summer. You went home that night and scoured your closet for something that could be considered Halloween-ish. You settled on a tiny black dress and a black cat ear headband that some girl had let you borrow last year for theatre class. You guess you had just forgotten to give it back.

You walk downstairs Saturday evening, already hearing the laughter and ambience of the party. You have to admit you’re a bit anxious. You hardly know anyone at this school, and if you do, they probably dislike you because of your competitive nature.

But it seems cozy and warm, with a few candles and lamps lit, and a fire crackling in the fireplace. You awkwardly stand near the corner of the room, constantly pulling your dress down to make sure you don’t flash everyone here.

“Well, well, well. Look who showed up,” You turn to find the source of the voice, although you already know who it is. Farleigh’s tall figure stands in front of you. You try to figure out what he’s dressed as… He’s in all black, with slacks and a button-up long-sleeve shirt.

“Hello.” You answer dryly, narrowing your eyes. “You didn’t really commit to the bit, did you?” You snicker at his lack of a costume. “And you call that a costume?” He gestures to your outfit.

“Well, at least I tried,” You shrug and sigh, looking around. “I don’t even know anyone here.” You admit helplessly, leaning against the wall.

“Aw. Sad.” He chuckles and walks to stand beside you, also leaning back against the wall. “Seems to me like you don’t have any friends, either.” You reply, looking up at him. “Me? I- No, I have friends–” He pauses when he realizes he sounds stupid. “Yeah, I don’t.” He admits.

“Well, at least we have something in common.” You laugh at your embarrassing predicament. “Everyone is just so… Incompetent.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, here he goes.” You mutter under your breath. “What?” Farleigh asks, glancing down at you. “I’m Farleigh, and I’m better than everyone else.” You mock his voice, trying to make your own voice deep enough to match his. He rolls his eyes dramatically.

“First of all, that is not how I sound. Second of all, I don’t think that. Well, sometimes I do.” You scoff at his response. “So you are a narcissist?” You reply, looking down and fiddling with one of your rings.

“If you believe everyone is so incompetent, why are you talking to me?” You ask, wondering if you can get a reaction out of him again. He gazes down at you, going silent for a moment, his dark eyes illuminated by the dancing flames of the candlelight. “I don’t think that applies to you,” He says quietly, with some weird tone that you can’t decipher.

“So, you settled for the next best person after yourself?” You question. You both stand there, just observing the party, and eventually he replies. “Yeah, I guess so.” The two of you smile contentedly, and for the first time, you think you might actually enjoy his company.

You spend the rest of the evening chatting with Farleigh, with casual insults slipping into the conversation every now and then, or snarky remarks about classes or upcoming quizzes. Interestingly enough, Clara never stopped by once to greet you or talk with you. But, then again, what did you expect?

Yet somehow, she didn’t really cross your mind tonight. You must have been thinking about other things, or you were too wrapped up in your conversations with Farleigh. But you’ll never admit that.

#saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #dark academia #academic rivals to lovers

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guessimwritingficsagain · 2 days

Text

Kintsugi (the golden roses will bloom prettily in the space between your ribs)

Summary : You'd met Joel a year ago. Then you learn he and Tess are gone from the Boston QZ.

Warnings : Mature content, MDNI, rape attempt (not from Joel, though), pining, ANGST.

Tags : Just ask.

———

You hear it first in the whispers around the QZ. You see it, then, in the way your associates Matthew avoids looking you in the eye. You walk to the apartment and it’s like there’s a ticking sound, the countdown of a bomb. You knock, once, twice. Wait. Repeat the motion. Once, twice. Wait.

There’s the sound of footsteps, then. Not familiar ones. And a voice that drawls :

‘You waistin’ your time, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear ? They gone.’

You don’t turn to look at the man. You get down the stairs and into the street.

———

The way you see it, there are two kinds of memories living in your mind : the ones you hold on to, and the ones that won’t go away.

What went down the day of the outbreak wakes you up at night. Ten years old, at school. The way little Timmy launched at Travis and bit him right in the throat.

You mother always said that as a woman it was better to be a rose disguised as a sunflower. Be pretty, hide your spikes, but always be ready to strike. Draw blood. She was dead when you got home that day.

Sometimes you think about that other memory. You have a lot of memories with Joel Miller, but there is one you hold on to. One that keeps you up at night, cunt and heart aching. The memory of fingers in your hair, as you’re not quite awake, on an old couch. It’s just that : fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp, and the heat of his thigh right next to your head. Fingers halting and warmth leaving right before the door opened and the voice of Tess announced ‘come on, we need to go’. Sometimes you think it was all a dream.

You met Tess before you met Joel. She’d trusted you to smuggle some pills for her when things almost went south. Almost, because you were, ever since you had to kill your pal Katie by repeatedly beating her skull with a chair, your arms heavy and aching with effort, a rose disguised as a sunflower. Things almost went south but you played the dumb little girl act - almost thirty years old, you were, but you’d learned that men would believe anything as long as that belief made them think they could advantage of you. You smuggled the pills, put a knife through the throat of a FEDRA soldier, and ended up at Tess’ place with a bloody nose and a top half ripped-off. Except it wasn’t Tess’ place only, and that’s when you met Joel Miller, almost a year before today, before you hear ‘You waistin’ your time, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear ? They gone.’.

Poetry lies in the cracks of things broken, except, at the end of the world, there is no sweet, gorgeous, shiny gold to mend what’s damaged. You’d read it in a book, once, became obsessed with it, too - Kintsugi. You’d wished you could do that - as a hobby. Wished you could take broken pottery and fix it with liquid gold. Wished you could take your heart, your ribs, your everything, and fix that too.

When you entered Tess’ place that day and met Joel Miller, he took one look at you as Tess muttered Christ, kid, you okay ?

You were not a kid. You were almost thirty and when you were ten you had killed your friend Katie with a chair, and then Travis, and then you had gone home to find the corpse of your mother and when the world hit you, you’d hit back but also you wanted to fix pottery with shiny gold and-

And Joel Miller grabbed your jaw, gentle but firm, and his other hand grabbed your arm, sat you down, and cleaned up your bloody nose.

That’s how you met Joel Miller. Tall, broad, manly. Precise, careful, in his movements, as Tess asked about what happened. And then Tess, to him

‘We can trust her, she’s basically a wallflower. Very useful if you want things to go quietly.’

Not a wallflower, a sunflower, you wanted to answer. I love beautiful things and I love the sun and I love when life shines. But a wallflower you were considered, and a wallflower you became. And neither Tess nor Joel took the time to see the sunflower behind the wallflower. Nor the rose with spikes hidden behind.

And Tess put a gentle hand on Joel Miller’s shoulder, squeezed as they looked at each other and you knew. You knew that grip on your jaw, that focused gaze on your face were all you were going to get. You were not one to fool yourself.

A wallflower you’d remain.

And Joel Miller’s name would be yours to say in the quiet of the night, fingers in your cunt, when the darkness makes the world outside disappear.

Not quite liquid gold fixing the breaks between your ribs, but enough.

———

They made sense, Joel and Tess. Tess was stern, face hardened by years of struggling - that made her beautiful in a way you would never be because you’d learned to hide that part of you. She was glorious. Determined, strong, assertive.

One day you stopped before knocking at her door because you heard-

You heard.

Even the way she moaned was beautiful.

So you turned back, found a guy, and brought him back home.

You woke up to a furious pounding on your door and watched Joel throw the guy out, pants barely covering his dick, shoes in his hands.

‘Where were you last night ? Why didn’t you show up ?’

You couldn’t exactly said that you’d shown up to hear Tess being fucked into the mattress so you settled with

‘I got distracted.’

His hand grabbed your jaw, his eyes intense.

‘Don’t. Don’t ever do that again. Ever.’

You could have said it, then. Could have said that he didn’t seem so worried when his cock was buried in Tess’ cunt. Couldn’t have been bothered to show up before the morning after. You said nothing.

A wallflower indeed.

And now-

Now.

Now it’s been two days since you felt Joel’s fingers in your hair, as you were sleeping in their apartment. Two days since he stopped and got up before Tess walked in and said ‘come on, we need to go’. Two days of whispers and glances and maybe after learning they were gone, knowing they left, maybe you got drunk, and maybe a FEDRA soldier put his hand where it didn’t belong and whispered in your ear :

‘They’re gone now, you’re all alone, little girl.’

And maybe you slit his throat. Maybe you slit his throat and then cut his dick off, for good mesure. Nobody would know for sure, because when they found the corpse in the morning, you were long gone.

And with you, you took nothing, except the bone-crushing knowledge that even at the end of the world, heartbreak is still what hurts the most - not killing Katie, not your dead mother, not the twenty years fighting for your life - and no amount of burning liquid gold will ever fix the empty space where your heart should be.

But maybe,

Maybe, you think, as you walk through green pastures on a way to a mythical place called Jackson, maybe, one can be a sunflower and a rose at the same time.

Maybe you’ll kill if you have to, and maybe, if Jackson is real, you’ll spend your time fixing pottery with- maybe not gold, but with yourself.

But as you approach the gates of Jackson, arms raised, slowly, saying

‘I don’t mean any harm.’

You make a promise to yourself.

And that promise is shaken to its core when the man in front of you - warm, familiar eyes - introduces himself as Tommy, Tommy Miller.

But you make a promise.

A sunflower.

A rose.

You’re gonna fix all the goddamn vases in this place.

The golden roses will bloom prettily in the space between your ribs, and you’ll let them be beautiful, and you’ll let them draw blood, too.

———

Taglist

@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855 @justpedropascal @sara-alonso @sarahjkl82-blog @amidjarin @sara-alonso@justpedropasc@mrsbentallmadge @farfromjustordinary @hnt-escape @kirsteng42

#joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader

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wexhappyxfew · 2 days

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24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

For Annie and Brady please!!! I adore them and your writing!

HI ANON!!!! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox!! greatly appreciated, especially when it is annie and brady!! :) these two have my heart and deserve all the best things life has to offer. please enjoy this take on the prompt and these two just being so soft on each other (and brady well....brady being BOLD). lmao! ENJOYYYY!!! thank you for all the love on them! :D

you in my A-2

(a/n): partially inspired by the prompt, partially by an ask i got earlier. just....annie x brady getting more and more comfortable and slowly realizing things about this war that they didn't realize earlier. them. them them them. i need them to be the happiest they can be when this is all done :')

Ever since that first night in the Stalag that she'd crawled into the bunk with Brady, it had become a nightly thing that she'd evacuate by the time morning came, but yearned for with each passing day.

Where it was just the two of them, side by side, curled into one another's bodies, their eyes the only innocent thing held between one another in this horrid place.

Sometimes they'd talk, whispering quietly between another about random things, about some of the sad things of the world, about their lives back home that would be entirely different if they ever got out of here. Sometimes they'd just stare at each other, with what little light there was from the moon outside or the lights from the guard huts outside.

And by that point, Brady would usually thread his fingers into her somewhat tangled hair and she'd apologize for something she could hardly control and he'd whisper all the sweet things that it was fine, he just wanted to be there with her. And that usually lent to her fingertips brushing against his stubbled cheeks, her pointer finger tracing all those stress lines that popped out when it was just them, or she'd let her hands dip into his hair and brush it back in a calming motion that usually got him right to sleep.

And so by morning, when she was back in her bunk, curled in her blanket, looking across the way as people would start moving about, waking up, rubbing their eyes, yawning and stretching, she'd meet Brady's gaze from across the room and they'd share that silent look that meant more than whatever words either of them would manage to find.

It never went past that - the longing looks, the occasional forehead kiss. Maybe they were both scared to go over that line they'd drawn. That maybe if there was anything more, they'd lose it just as quick.

As Annie slid out of her bunk and crossed the small room towards where Brady was, she couldn't help but feel her heart bit a little faster just at the sight of him asleep there - his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart ache. The visible stress on his face even in his sleep made her want to pull him right into her arms and tell him over and over that everything would be okay, that they'd make it out, that she was okay beyond anything. Because he cared so much, that he stopped taking care of himself sometimes. And she always would pick up what pieces were lost and stitch them back together again and hold him in the darkness.

As she approached, she softly bit back her lip and reached out to prod him awake, which always made her feel guilty for doing such a thing, but he welcomed it and told her it was fine, despite her want to make sure he got a full nights sleep. Brady woke with a shake awake and turned to look towards her and smiled softly in the darkness.

"Hey," he whispered, before opening up the blanket, "hop in." Annie watched him for a moment, before her cheeks warmed - they always did when he looked at her like that - and she slid in beside him and let him engulf her in a mixture of his arms and blanket.

The second she felt her body pressed against his in the cocoon of blankets and warmth, her worries were stripped away, as they normally always were. She curled herself against the heat from his neck, her body begging for some sort of comfort in all of this, as he pressed a kiss against her temple, something he'd grown more akin to recently it seemed. It's not that they didn't want people to see them, it was more of the fact that they finally were back with each other and trying to keep things like they had been back at Thorpe Abbotts - friendly, maybe dancing the line of flirting but not nothing more. But here at the Stalag, they were anything but. And they both seemed to recognize that.

"You doing okay?" he whispered softly against her ear as she cuddled further into him the best she could and sighed, "That cold finally going away?" She nodded against him.

"Yeah," she whispered, "just a little bit of a stuffy nose, but can't complain. How about you?" She leaned back from him, from his warmth and smiled at him as she leaned a hand up against her head. Reaching forward, she ran her hands through his hair and watched a sense of calm wash over his form for a minute as she did so. And it did settle Annie's own nerves and worry for Brady that she constantly endured day in and day out. She always worried about him and seemed, but it was always mutual for the two of them.

"Okay," he said quietly, before the corner of his lip turned upward, "better now that you're here, I gotta admit." Her cheeks warmed and she shook her head before holding his gaze in her own.

"You're too sweet on me, John Brady." she whispered softly to him, cupping his cheek for a minute and brushing her thumb across his cheek as she grinned at him with her rosy cheeks. Brady watched her, that slightly far-off look in his eyes, a hint of a smile. He grinned.

"You deserve it, Annie," he whispered back to her, reaching up his own hand and brushing his fingers against her warm cheek and grinning, "that and you blush red like a tomato."

"You a fan of that?" she whispered back quickly with a laugh and she watched him bit his lip and smirk.

"I'd say I'm a big fan of that," he whispered back, "'specially when you look like this." Annie watched him - she could probably be covered in mud and he'd be staring at the way he currently was. And now, stuck in a Stalag camp, looking slightly malnourished and sickly, with slightly matted hair and sunken in eyes and he still looked at her like that and said things like that.

"I could say much of the same," she whispered back to him, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into his hand against her cheek, "you look cute when you blush." John Brady did in fact blush when she said that, even though she couldn't even really see much of his face in that darkness of the room. She grinned and then leaned forward and cuddled into his neck again, Brady chuckling the slightest bit as he curled into her as well.

"You're so warm." Annie whispered against his neck as the rumble from his throat echoed in her ear and made her grin like a loon, "You're like a personal blanket." That got him to chuckle quietly again as her lips danced near her ear and she could practically hear each and every breath that left his lips - a mixture of knowing he was alive and right there next to her - and even more so; knowing that all they were in that moment right now were two people dying for an ounce of comfort in this world.

"Consider me your personal blanket," he whispered back as his lips continued to ghost over her ears, "I was thinking….." Annie listened to him trail off and gulped for a moment as his breath trembled and his heart pounded.

"I'd give anything if it was me and you back at Thorpe Abbotts, just you in my A-2 jacket and nothing else." he whispered and her body grew hot - whether from his soft, husky voice in her ear or the way his hands had found their way underneath her clothes, fingertips grazing her bare back, traversing her battered and hot skin, her thoughts were suddenly in a blunder and all she could think about well was….that. Annie pulled back from her spot curled against his neck and met his gaze.

"Just your A-2?" she whispered softly, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes, a small smile growing on her face as a look dawned on his features that almost seemed like he hadn't meant to let that slip from his lips, but it had, "What does that mean for you?" Brady watched her, the look in his eyes matching the touch of his fingertips on her skin and she suddenly couldn't focus on anything else but that gentle touch of his fingertips. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her forehead again with that tender touch.

"You can have me anyway you want me." he whispered against her forehead and her eyes instinctively shut as he pressed up against her and she overwhelmed with him. His presence, his touch, the way he held her so gently and close to him, but with a level of protectiveness and care that made her know that this was safe, that she was safe, just like this.

Annie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly running her fingers up into his hair as his head fell to the inside of her neck and he pulled her close, like a warm, tender hug that you never wanted to pull away from. Gleefully his hands raced along her bare back as she curled against him, feeling the way his hands explored underneath her coat and wooly top, dancing across her skin and making her feel things she hadn't quite felt in some time.

"Can I tell you something?" Annie whispered softly to him, rubbing slowly again through his hair as he sighed against her.

"What is it?" Annie listened to his heartbeat for a moment before blinking.

"This is the safest I've felt in years." And to even say a statement like that, in a place like this was ironic even in it of itself. She hadn't even felt the safest at home, a place that was supposed to be safe. No, no, she felt safest in the arms and embrace of someone she had only met a couple of months ago and had proved himself to be more of a home to her beyond anything.

"With me?" Annie nodded against him.

"Right here." she whispered back to him, "You and me." His grip didn't loosen, he only held her tighter and it seemed in that moment, the realization and the weight of whatever was going on between them seemed to hit. Her truth spilling from her lips quietly into his body, his grip tightening, their bodies pressed against one another in a way that should've felt foreign. Brady seemed to want to say something, she could tell, but when he stayed quiet and instead pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, she didn't question it. Because whatever they had here was okay for right now.

"I feel safe with you too, Annie." he whispered back and Annie was convinced even she wasn't so comfy, that she wasn't sure what she would've done if they'd been looking right at each other, inches apart. For now, she cuddled closer to him, enjoying his hands on her stomach and his lips near her ear, their soft breaths, mixing into deep slumber as they laid in each other's embraces until the world went quiet.

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #THEMMMM #holy heck #annie bradshaw #john brady #john brady x oc #HE IS GETTING BOLD LADIES AND GENTS #HELLA BOLD #i had this line as an idea and RAN with it #in your a-2 like damn ok brady #SCREAMMINGGGG

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