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#what tag would someone search to look for stuff like this
yvoi · 1 year
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I want to post more art here so.......... dancing toads for you
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viksalos · 1 year
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haven’t really seen much of the met gala stuff this year bc i was away at a festival all weekend, but i saw a take that was like “fashion as an art form is bourgeois” or smth like that, and while i’m not sure i disagree that high fashion/haute couture/whatever whatever is basically only accessible to the bourgeoisie currently, it had me thinking about my current relationship to fashion
like i’m not an expert or anything, just a hobbyist that dresses to make myself happy (and entertaining the people around me sometimes is a bonus), but after thinking about it i don’t think i own one single big name designer item. all my shit is from like, independent designers, generic brands, diy, secondhand, SOME fast fashion (altho i’m trying to minimize that bc some of my older fast fashion items are starting to fall apart already like everyone said they would, lol). i have never been able to afford big name designer stuff but obviously i still consider fashion to be a hobby of mine
& so i think what has helped me from paying attention to high fashion specifically though is, rather than paying attention to specific designers, just developing preferences and a vocabulary of qualities i like--silhouettes, materials, construction, things like that. this allows me to take these qualities and look for them elsewhere where they’re more accessible to me--e.g. especially since vivienne westwood’s passing it seems like i’m seeing half-corsets and multi-strand pearl chokers everywhere again, but it’s not difficult to take those terms and look for independent designers making similar things. basically doing the work of the “devil wears prada” monologue about the progress of fashion trends by yourself. whereas before like my mid-20s i basically wore a tshirt and jeans all day every day, which i don’t think was what i really wanted to be doing so much as it was due to a lack of knowledge and self-confidence
sooooo i guess what i’m saying is that while i’m not sure i disagree with the take that “fashion is bourgeois,” especially high fashion, i do still think it deserves to exist as an artform bc it’s a valuable form of self-expression. it just needs to be more accessible
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tigeri102 · 10 months
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Hi there! I found your blog from reddit while looking for posts about how to grow a tumblr community as an artist (I used to be a regular here like 10 years ago, but I don't even use the email I had back then so I'm back fully from scratch). Any tips that you'd give to a newbie? ^^
oh ! henlo welcome to hell \o/ ill be real tho i truly have little to nothing you dont already seem to have figured out lmao. i dont know anything about community-building and i never have im just here to vibe 🙏
your theme, art, use of tags etc are all lovely fwiw !! but im no expert on getting any real mileage out of this site i just post bullshit all day baybee
edit oops i actually came up with a handful of tips while rambling in the tags and im too lazy to move em to the body text lmao but godspeed
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brinesystem · 2 years
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insaneillusionist · 10 months
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I- GUYS THE SEARCH FUNCTION-I HAVE AAAAAAA
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sttoru · 7 months
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⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff. happy family moment t_t
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“she said whaaaat? no way!”
you were scrolling on your phone in the living room when you heard that familiar voice pierce through the comfortable silence — satoru’s voice, a bit more high pitched this time, almost like he couldn’t believe what he had heard.
your boyfriend was over at your parents’ place for the first time and seemed to get along just fine with your mother in the kitchen. you could hear their giggles and gasps every now and then whilst your body was resting on the couch.
their voices were getting louder by the minute, thus you decide to stand up and go check on them. you reach the doorstep and instantly smile at the heartwarming scene that greets you;
your mother chopping up some vegetables, chuckling whilst excitedly telling her recent gossips to satoru, who was leaning back against the kitchen counter next to her — his arms crossed and those pretty dimples of his apparent on his face as he carefully listens to your mother’s stories.
“seems like you two are getting along well already, eh?” you chuckle after observing them for a little while longer. your presence instantly make satoru smile even more (if that were even possible), his eyes glimmering at the sight of you;
“hey, baby!” the white-haired man walks over to you and hugs you tightly before letting go, though his hand remains at your waist. the grin on his face widens, “your mother has the most juiciest of gossips that i’ve ever heard around town, i’m telling ya — stuff’s got me absolutely hooked.”
your mother responds to that with a short giggle. she glances up from her cutting board and sends you a look — one that emits her approval of the lover you’ve chosen. it seems like satoru’s charming personality succeeded into mellowing even your parents’ hearts.
“heh, i do actually believe that.” you nod with your own cheeky grin. your mother was like a newspaper — you always hear all the recent stories and gossips from her.
it’s no wonder satoru instantly clicked with her; if it isn’t your mother you’re gossiping with, it would usually be that cheeky sorcerer instead. he’s a great listener after all, his reactions are priceless to you.
you move over to stand next to your mother and decide to help her out with cutting up the veggies. satoru starts to search the area in hopes to find an apron for himself, though was quickly interrupted by the gruff voice of your dad echoing through the house;
“satoru, c’mere, boy! help an old man out.”
you were a bit surprised that your dad was specifically asking for satoru to go help him (your mom as well; however she knowingly snickers afterwards).
you can’t remember the last time your father had directly asked help from someone he barely knew. sometimes he wouldn’t even ask your mother or you for help. that’s how stubborn your dad is.
or, was — satoru’s an exception, it seems like.
your boyfriend was also a bit stunned — though not in a bad way at all. the corners of his lips curl up in a fond smile, his blue eyes shining ever so brightly due to the feeling of being needed and accepted in this household. his beloved’s household.
it felt like he had achieved all he wanted in life — hell, satoru was ready to risk it all and ask for your hand in marriage right then and there; that’s how joyous and confident this moment made him.
“coming, sir!” satoru calls out. you could’ve sworn his voice cracked a tad bit, however you decide not to comment on it. your boyfriend turns around with the biggest grin on his face and quickly goes to stand between your mother and you.
one of his hands rests on your waist, the other on your mom’s shoulder as he places a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. a rush of warmth surged through his body as he saw you look up at him with those captivating and pretty eyes, making satoru feel even more content than he already was —
“i’ll be right back. if you ladies need a helping hand, just give me a holler.” satoru says and smoothly steals a kiss on your cheek before hurrying towards your father, whose voice sounded from the bathroom.
there was a spring in his step. a positive change in his already ethereal looks as you watch him disappear from the room. you shake your head and chuckle at satoru’s excitement. you knew exactly what he was feeling, because you felt the same once you realised just how fast your parents seemed to accept and approve of him;
relieved, comfortable and happy.
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unreliablesnake · 7 months
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You're reading what? (Ghost x reader x 141)
Summary: Soap finds out you're reading porn in your free time. Ghost decides to ask you about it.
Note: Barracks bunny, barracks bunny, barracks bunny! Sorry, reader's a slut. (affectionate) / I'll probably write more parts, maybe smut, maybe suggestive stuff, maybe fluff... I don't know yet. Check the #barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
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It was Soap who found out what you were reading in your limited free time during missions. You left your Kindle on the table while you went to the bathroom, and he wanted to see what book you were so invested in lately. When he read the first two paragraphs, his jaw dropped and a wide grin crept on his face.
"Hey, LT, you won't believe what she's reading," he said while he checked the title of the book just to know what to check later.
Ghost rolled his eyes, completely uninterested at the moment. He was busy writing a report that was due by the end of the day, and he had promised Price that he would do it on time. So he didn't have time to think about what stupid novel you were currently reading.
But Soap didn't give up. He put the device back where it was before, then took the chair next to the lieutenant. "It's porn. I'm not joking, she's reading porn," he said excitedly, keeping his voice down as he spoke.
With mixture of disapproval and interest in his eyes, he turned to the sergeant and asked, "And?"
"What do you mean? She's reading porn. No wonder she dodges every question regarding the books she's reading all the time," he replied before he typed something into his phone. "Here, this is the one she's currently reading."
Ghost took the device from him and tapped on the first search result. He read the summary, then moved on to some quotes the users highlighted. It was interesting to say the least. Were you really into this type of stuff?
When they heard your voice from the hallway, Soap took back his phone and closed the browser before you entered the room again. To you it probably seemed like they were talking about the mission and the report Ghost was writing, and this is why the lieutenant felt a little bad for this invasion of your privacy.
After being on this mission for so long, he was obviously frustrated. He couldn't just go to a bar to pick up someone, and his hand was less and less satisfying these days. His mind recently began to travel back to you and your book, and one afternoon, when he had some unexpected free time, he found himself buying and downloading that novel on his phone.
He got quite far in a matter of hours, and he couldn't help himself when he found you alone in a room after dinner. Ghost sat down across from you and took the Kindle from your hands to take a look at it. "Still reading porn?" he asked teasingly.
You gulped, your cheeks probably burning from the embarrassment you clearly felt. "H–How do you know about that?" you asked him after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Soap stole this the other day," he replied as he gave back the device. "Don't worry, I think I'm the only one he told about this. Your secret's safe with me."
"I don't even want to know what you think about me now," you said with your head buried in your hands.
Ghost let out a dry laugh as he peeled your hands off your face. "Hey, it's okay. We spend way too much time here, I think it's safe to say we all need our fix one way or another," he assured you while holding your hand, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.
Maybe he was flirting with you. The more he thought about you and what he had read in that novel, the more he wished he could do that in real life with you. He had always liked you; the disciplined, tough, but also kind soldier that got along with everyone on the team.
And the one Price played favorites with, he reminded himself. They all had their suspicions about the captain's motivation, believing he himself had a crush on you from the start. After all, why else would he bring you small gifts every time you met again? Why would he spend hours talking to you alone?
Sometimes Ghost wondered if there was anything between the two of you. Were you off-limits? Or was it a one-sided thing?
"And what do you do to get your fix?"
Your question brought him back to reality and he instinctively let go of your hand. He couldn't say that he jerked off to the thought of you. No, that would be way too creepy. So he shrugged, hoping this was enough to answer your question.
After a short pause, Ghost folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to you. "Have you ever tried anything that you read in your little books?" he asked you with a grin under the mask.
With your head tilted to the side, you watched him in silence for a while as you thought about your answer. "Do you even know what's in them exactly?"
"I began to read one of them. The one that reminded me of the Fifty Shades of Grey stories, only in a hardcore version," he replied casually.
An amused hum left your lips. "How do you even know what those stories are about? You don't seem to be the type who's into them."
Of course, Ghost had an answer to that. "I had an ex who made me watch the whole series. I didn't like it. Back to my question, have you tried anything from that book for example?"
"I have," you replied immediately, shamelessly grinning as you watched him.
It was hard to surprise Ghost these days, but hearing you answering so honestly definitely took him off guard. "The whole power play thing?" You nodded without hesitation as you took a sip of your soda. "With who?"
"Does it matter?"
"No, it doesn't," he admitted, knowing full well he probably wouldn't know that person anyway.
The pair of you sat there in silence for a while, your eyes locking every now and then before you flashed a smile at him then dived back into your book. He didn't mind, instead of complaining he just leaned back in the chair and watched you.
Ghost hated feeling this way, he hated that he could do nothing but wish for a cold shower in your presence. If he stood up now, you would surely notice how excited he was to be near you. He wanted to play with you too, he wanted to find out what you had learned from those books of yours.
Gaz walked into the room with a stupid smile on his face then put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned closer. "Price wants to see you," he announced before suddenly taking the ebook reader from you and taking a look at the page you were at. "Ooooh, another one? Do you even read anything else?"
Biting on your lower lip, you exhaled through your nose angrily. "I'm gonna kill Soap. I swear to God I'm gonna shoot him before we go home," you told them before snatching your Kindle from Gaz's hands and heading towards the door.
But on the way there you stopped behind Ghost and leaned down to his ear. He could feel your hot breath on his skin which made his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, what were you doing to him?
"By the way, if you want to know more about what I want to try from those books, just say it. I'm sure we could arrange that," you added as your hand squeezed his shoulder.
Before he could say anything, you left the room, leaving him alone with Gaz. "Oh, you haven't figured it out yet," the sergeant said with a laugh.
"Figured out what?" Ghost asked, completely dumbfounded.
But Gaz only shrugged. "She's fun to be around. That's all I'm saying."
And with that, he left too. The lieutenant had absolutely no idea what to think. There were you, probably suggesting sleeping with him one day, and there was Gaz with his mysterious comment about you. As he let out a groan, he let his forehead hit the table with a loud thud. Why couldn't things be simple?
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cherrycherryking · 1 year
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why hello there Cherry!! i hope you're having a great day 🥰💖
a little request if you're interested, but no pressure whatsoever - you should follow your heart with what you post 🥺💖 how about You being teased by another member of the Neighbourhood about your obvious crush on Wally? i think it's a really cute concept 🙈💖
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wally x gen!reader (romantic)
Being Teased About Your Crush For Wally
✧You're so bad at hiding it.
✧Sorry someone had to tell you. (actually everyone is letting you know.)
✧Okay but what do they expect when Wally is just so- him??? Do they not want you to giggle all lovestruck when he tried to search for the apples on a pie then nonchalantly going "there's no apples in here, silly."
✧Or when you found him looking at himself on a hand mirror and after asking he responded "im very pretty, so i'm looking at myself" so you accompanied him to also stared at him because yes he Is really pretty.
✧And if you jump at the opportunity to explain when he asks the weirdest things in that calm, monotone voice of him, who can blame you??
✧Everyone.
✧Well, not everyone, but Barnaby who usually is the one responding the questions surely will tease you about it (with the lamest jokes to pair it).
✧The worst would be Sally and Julie, specially Julie. Shes just sooo excited at the idea of her friends!!! being in love?!?!
✧WILL sing the kissing song anyways cause my god is this so fun, and you look so cute all flustered! Wants to play wingman so badly.
✧How funny would it be for the whole town to know but Wally about your crush.
✧A lot.
✧But there's always the possibility that he was the first to know but doesnt bring it up because. Is there a reason?? Hm, he likes to hang out with you and he as well thinks is pretty funny to see you red in the face,
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i remembered this song and the drawing just materialized on my screen guys!!! also. PLEASE go and check starleska's stuff!! it is all so good (literally first post of the wally x reader tag o7 thank you for your services)
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shanastoryteller · 2 months
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happy valentine Shana!!! I can't believe i made it finally jgfcjjcgjgx i would love to see some fma (Sacrifice is free/ed&ling betrothed/What They Expect) or more of Lord Arthur De Bois, or time travel Jiang Cheng/drarry, or Avengers' Three Faced Goddess! (can anyone tell I Cannot choose favourites? They're all so gooood) and if none of those sound appealing, dealer's choice! thank you!!
continuation of 1 2 3 4 5
It's sort of awkward, because Eden insists on thick tights and long sleeves and keeps her gloves on, but Catherine takes it in stride and doesn't react with anything more than a single raised eyebrow. Maybe she thinks she has some sort of terrible skin condition on her limbs, or something, because she's perfectly fine with plunging necklines and the lacy bras Catherine shoves at her.
She hasn't worn anything besides a sports bra since she's had breasts. They're not exactly comfortable, but compared to the constant, background ache of the automail it doesn't even make a blip on her radar.
Besides. They make her look like a girl, shoving her breasts up front and center, and their size had been an annoyance when passing for a boy and a comfort when she looked at herself naked in the mirror, searching for the girl she was rather than the boy everyone saw, but this is different.
"Wow," Catherine blinks, tilting her head to the side.
Eden flushes and wishes that at any point she'd learned how to talk to pretty girls outside of life or death situations. "I hadn't realized they - I'm not used to wearing, um, girly stuff."
"You look good in it," she says, touching Ed's back and shifting her to face the mirror.
She's in black tights and boots with a chunky heel, taller than the ones she normally wears and sleeker, stopping just below her knees. She's wearing a dark green dress with a deep neckline. She's used to be hard lines and sharp edges, but she looks soft here, her hips and breasts curving out from her waist and the dress somehow minimizing the breadth of her shoulders, or maybe it's just that with all the skin on display in the center, her shoulders just don't get as much attention. She'd had to build them up, to make the automail balanced, to make sure her body could support it, and she'd always hated how masculine it made her look. But looking at herself now, she wonders if that just wasn't in her head.
Green's never been a color she gravitated towards, but the dark color makes the gold of her hair shine, brings out the warmth of her eyes and the pink of her lips.
"You're really good at this," she tells Catherine, throat tight.
Catherine grins. "You are a beautiful canvas, Eden. It was not difficult." Ed's face burns. "Do you have plans for dinner? We could have it at my home. I am, honestly, dying to curl your hair."
Ed hesitates, because her shade of blonde is rather distinctive, then takes a second look at herself in the mirror. No one is going to think she's the Fullmetal Alchemist looking like this. "Okay, yeah. Sure. That'd be great."
~
Catherine knows that Eden is military at first glance, seeing her elder sister in the way Eden stands and moves. She looks young, but she can't be that young, not when she has the stance of someone who's been enlisted for years.
She figures that Eden is looking for clothes to wear outside of her uniform for the first time and something in her softens at how insistent Eden is on keeping certain parts of her body covered. Her siblings have scars too.
When they get to their home, Eden seems slightly surprised at the grandness of her home, but gets over it quickly, which Catherine almost expected. She hadn't looked at a single price tag as they'd been shopping and had paid for her bags of purchases with a nonchalance that spoke of a familiarity with money, although that leaves Catherine to wonder how she ended up in the military in the first place. She hadn't gotten a last name out of her, but Catherine is familiar with most military families, and she would have heard if any of their daughters had enlisted.
"Your bedroom is so pretty," Eden says, looking around at her pink, frilly room filled with flowers and clothes and gilded in gold with a soft wistfulness.
Catherine loves her. "Thank you. Here, sit at my vanity, let's play."
Eden laughs and pulls her hair out of the hasty ponytail she'd pulled it into, letting Catherine run her hands through it and carefully brush out every knot. It's gorgeous, thick and silky and the most wonderful shade that Catherine's never seen on anyone else.
People always act so oddly with her because of her family, even those similarly situated looking down at her for her choices, to be neither an officer nor married to one, but that's just not what she wants right now. It's nice to hang out with another girl that just treats her like a friend.
"MY BELOVED SISTER HAS RETURNED!" booms from what sounds like the first floor.
She sighs.
Eden goes rigid in her chair, eyes wide. "What - why-"
"It's just my brother," she says soothingly, concerned with how pale Eden has gotten. "He's harmless, really."
"Brother," Eden repeats. "Fuck. Fuck! I'm so stupid-"
"It's okay," she says in alarm, "Eden, what-"
She gets to her feet, grabbing her hands and looking at her a desperation that Catherine doesn't understand. "He can't know I'm here. Who I am. Do you understand? It's important."
She doesn't understand. "Eden-"
There's the sound of heavy footsteps heading their way and Eden wrenches herself away, bolting for the other side of the room. She claps her hands together, then presses them against the wall, and in flash of light she's disappeared.
Catherine stares. mouth agape.
She's familiar with alchemy. The skill has been passed down her family for generations.
Eden didn't use a circle.
"I HEAR YOU HAVE MADE A FRIEND, DEAR SISTER!" Alex shouts, flinging open her door and flexing in the doorway. "I WISH TO MEET YOUR NEW COMPANION!"
She picks up a pillow from her bed and lobs it at him, hitting him right in his stupid curl. "We're having girl time, go away!"
"Ah, girl time!" he says. "A storied tradition that has been passed down the Armstrong family for many generations!" He looks around, seeing her empty room, and his eyebrows dip together.
She grabs a makeup brush, holding it up threateningly. "You know what else has been passed down our family for generations? The art of knocking! Go bother Momma!"
"Where's," he starts.
Catherine throws the brush, pointy end towards his eyes.
He ducks, retreating to the safety of the hallway and closing the door just in time for the brush to hit it.
She takes a deep breath, calming her racing heart and smoothing her hands down her skirt. She crosses the room, knocking against the wall and whispering, "Eden? He's gone."
There's nothing for a moment and then there's light and heat and she's looking at the the inside of her house, pipes and insulation, and Eden standing there in the center of it, eyes blown wide and lips trembling.
Eden, who won't let her look at her limbs and doesn't know how to wear girly things and uses alchemy without circles and recognizes her brother from his voice alone.
"I'm sorry," Eden whispers, arms wrapped around herself, trying to make herself small. "I just wanted-"
Catherine interrupts her, reaching out to place her hand over the arm Eden had been careful not to let her touch and is unsurprised to feel hard, unyielding metal. "The art of secret keeping had been passed down the Armstrong family for generations."
Eden's eyes snap to hers and Catherine smiles, squeezing her arm and hopes that she can feel it. Slowly, wondrously, Eden returns it.
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wwinterwitch · 11 months
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right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton
summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!
a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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all masterlists | read on ao3
You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.
It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.
Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.
And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.
Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.
Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.
Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.
Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.
One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.
"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.
"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."
"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."
"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.
Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"
You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.
Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.
You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.
And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.
It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.
After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.
"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."
"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.
Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.
"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.
He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."
You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.
"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.
"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"
Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.
"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.
Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.
You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.
As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.
Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.
"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.
"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."
"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."
"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.
Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."
"I don't think your apologies are sincere."
"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."
You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."
Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."
"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."
"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?
A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"
He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.
But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.
You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."
With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.
Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.
But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.
This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.
Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.
He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.
Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.
Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.
And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.
At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.
But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.
Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.
"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"
"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.
The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.
Oh, how badly you've missed him.
"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."
You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.
"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."
"My lord, I–"
"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.
You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.
"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"
Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."
Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.
"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."
You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.
"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."
"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.
"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."
"Why not? I've always called you that."
"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."
"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."
"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."
"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"
"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."
"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.
"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"
Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.
In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.
You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.
The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.
"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.
He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.
"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.
"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."
"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.
"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.
You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.
Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.
"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."
"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."
"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.
"Darling–"
"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."
"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."
"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"
"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"
You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."
"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.
You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.
Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."
Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."
He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.
Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.
You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.
As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.
It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.
But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.
"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"
"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."
"Yes, please!"
Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.
Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.
To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.
Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.
Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.
"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.
"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"
You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.
They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.
You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.
Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.
Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.
Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.
"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."
"Thank you, so do you."
Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"
"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.
"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."
"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."
"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."
"What do you mean?"
"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."
Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."
"I would never do such a thing."
She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."
You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.
She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."
"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.
"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."
"And...you said no?"
"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."
"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.
"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."
"I...Oh my, are you–?"
"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."
Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."
"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."
"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."
"I assure you I love him just as much."
"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."
"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"
"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."
"I shall tell you how it goes then."
"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.
Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.
"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."
"Of course, my lady," was all he said.
"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.
"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.
You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"
"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.
Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.
"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.
"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."
"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."
"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."
He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."
The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.
"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.
"Why?" was all he could say.
"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.
Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.
"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.
You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."
Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.
His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.
The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."
He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."
"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.
"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"
He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."
"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."
You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.
This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.
His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.
"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.
"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."
He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.
But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.
"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."
"And I'd have no complaints about that."
He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."
"We have many years to make amends for that."
"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.
"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."
"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."
You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"
"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."
You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.
"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"
You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."
Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."
You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."
"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."
"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"
"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."
He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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The Stuff of Wet Nightmares
Pairing: Male!Sleep Paralysis Demon x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, fear play, dirty talk, cunnilingus, whimpering, dream sex, biting, clit stimulation
Word count: 1.6k
Ao3
A/N: Recently heard of a book that had a sleep paralysis demon in it. Apparently it's pretty hot but I haven't read it yet. Hopefully I will once I get through Learn My Lesson. Anyway this is, a very late, next part of my Monster Week.
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The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was that, yes you were still in your room. It was still nighttime judging from the sliver of moonlight coming from your window. But something wasn't right. Try as you might you couldn't move a muscle.
You opened your mouth to try to curse but no sound would come out. You were completely paralyzed. In your mind you trashed and kicked, but it wasn't translating to your body at all.
"You really should stop trying that. It makes the experience worse for us both." The scratchy, deep voice sounded from somewhere in the room. Your eyes frantically searched for its source. "Up here sweet dreamer."
You manage to shift your gaze upwards to the corner of the bedroom door. There you see a pair of piercing ice blue eyes, in even darker colors of blue, staring at you. You can't make out anything else as the eyes move down the wall in unnatural way, almost gliding.
"Forgive the intrusion on my part." The entity smiles as it straightens up, towering over you even at the distance. You're able to see sharp rows of pointy teeth, it too a glowing blue color, both its eyes and its mouth seem to give out a faint blue shimmer. "Your dreams smelled so sweet, I just couldn't stay away." It crept closer, the form shrinking and shifting, almost shadow like from what you could see, "Oh, are you scared? Hm, how about I take a form more familiar to you?"
It smirked, eyes narrowing then widening as it took a male bodied shape and tone of voice. The blue eyes and teeth stayed but there was also a shadowy strand of hair falling over its left eye, almost entirely obscuring it. And while the body was muscular you could still make out little wisps of light dancing across it like firelights.
"Better now dreamer?" He tilted his head and walked close, aware of the nakedness of himself and your eyes taking him in. "What troubles you tonight. Let me take a look."
His hand, smooth, warm and almost tickling you, pressed against your cheek.
"Oh dear. That's an awful lot of stress for just one person. No wonder you've been having trouble sleeping lately. Perhaps I can do something about it. You humans are a complicated yet simple bunch, I've learned many things about your kind over the years. Such as..." In a moment he was above you, on top of you, grabbing your chin and making eye contact with you. His knee pressed between your legs, lightly massaging the aching spot, "how to best make you come."
Once again you tried to speak but to no avail. The pressure felt good, but you didn't know this... demon, you had no idea of his true goals. It scared and aroused you at the same time. His hands, a little big on your hips still, took hold and moved you against his leg.
"How long has it been since someone touched you like this?" He questioned against your skin, his long, forked tongue licking down your neck. It too was a shade of blue, a little lighter than the interior of his mouth. "Haven't you been a good girl? Haven't you earned your release?"
Heat pooled between your legs fast, building up until it crashed over you like an avalanche as you came with a soundless cry. For a moment you thought you'd closed your eyes again, when actually that was just your mind trying to come back to you.
He smiled above you, his hands smoothing under your shirt and hiking it up. He licked downward, between and around your breasts, biting the right underboob, making you shiver at the sharpness of his teeth and the knowledge that he could rip you apart if he wanted to. But he didn't, that wasn't his goal. His goal was between your legs. Your panties were slid off and left barely hanging at the foot of the bed.
"You smell even sweeter when aroused." The long tongue flicked between your lower lips, smooth and hot, sending a jolt of arousal through your still body. "Taste even better." He dove in with his mouth and tongue, licking between, around and inside you. This time you found that you could whimper, but only barely, resulting in him smiling against you, "Does it feel good? Tell me, I'll allow it."
A high and choked "Yes." left your lips before you went right back to making those lewd sounds that he seemed to thrive on.
"I'm glad." He made eye contact with you as he licked a long path from your pussyhole to your clit, tapping against it with his forked tongue. "You taste better than dreams. You might be my new sustenance. A win-win."
He lifted from between your legs, your juices dripping down his chin. His hand went between his legs and fisted around his cock. You don't know how you were able to miss it until now, it wasn't small by any means.
"I can shift it. For any shape that suits your needs. So how do you want me? Do you want me?" His eyes found yours, searching for an answer as he slid his hand up and down the hard appendage. You moaned as you saw it shift in the perfect shape and girth for your pussy. "This one?" He circled the tip on your clit, his hips barely moving.
"Yes. I want." Were all the words you were able to speak out, that he needed to hear before you felt the head of his dick on your entrance. He gave it a few experimental thrusts, pushing forward more with every roll of his hips.
"Oh yes." He moaned, deep and breathless as he bottomed out, "Much better than a dream. You take me perfectly my sweet. Your body is responding so well to me. This cock is just what you needed isn't it? Fucking you deep, filling up your empty hole like no other."
You wanted to nod, to moan, to ask him for his name, to shake your hips into his. But all you could do was lie still as he moved back and forth above you, his hips pressing against yours, his face close to yours, your breath mixing together before he kissed you.
The kiss further muffled your moans as his pace increased, his hands grabbing hold of your hips, his nails leaving pink scratch marks on your skin as he started to hammer his hard cock into your pussy. Not even you realized how much you needed this. You needed him to fuck, and mark you, and drive you to the brink and pull you back. "Harder." You were able to say against him before he dove back into another, deeper kiss, his teeth nibbling and pulling at your lip before licking over it, constantly reminding you of what he is.
"Whatever you ask." He obliged with much glee, driving with cock deep it had to be kissing your cervix. "A little more and I bet I could open you up. But even in a dream I think that'd hurt a little too much." There was a darkness in his concerning tone telling you that despite knowing that he wanted to do it. "Let me hear you my sweet dreamer. I want to hear you come undone around my cock."
"Oh fuck!" The left your mouth before you could register it, your moans no longer held back some invisible force although your body was still paralyzed, rocking only because of his thrusts. "Yeah, fuck, make me come!"
"As many times you want." He drove his cock back and forth into your twitching, sensitive cunt, each thrust accompanied by wet slapping sounds of skin against skin. "Do you want my cum too? You've been so well behaved, I think you deserve it."
You could barely even choke out your confirmation before you were flooded by huge loads of cum. He kept fucking you through his orgasm, intent on getting you there too. His cum only made his cock more slippery, the length twitching and pulsing as it dragged against your quivering walls and pushed you over the edge. His arms went around your shoulders, his teeth latching onto you neck.
For a moment your pulse quickened, wondering if he would kill you now that he got what he wanted. It wasn't until you heard and felt a deep rumble from his chest that you realized he was completely calm. It irked you a little, you were all out of breath and shaking and here he was, still completely fine.
"A mark for you. So others know you're mine." He whispered against your skin, "Until next time my sweet dreamer." His voice echoed in your ears as you felt yourself fade into unconsciousness.
It was an emptiness and ache between your legs that you woke up with. Your whole body ached in fact. "Fuck. Was that... a dream?" Considering there was no one in your room but you and no cum between your legs, something that a part of you looked forward to seeing, it had to have been a dream. You rushed into the bathroom, you had to be sure.
There it was, a bite mark on your neck. Not a dream, not reality, but something in between.
A shiver went down your spine and straight between your legs as you remembered his words: "Until next time."
"Until tonight." You smiled into the mirror. It was brief but for a moment you swore you heard his voice, his chuckle, right behind you.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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Negotiations
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.
It was merely time to look forward.
And look my best.
You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.
Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.
“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”
You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”
“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”
Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.
Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.
You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?
How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?
Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.
You held your head high as if it was.
I can do this.
You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.
You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.
One step closer.
It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.
An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.
"How may I help you?"
"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?
"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."
"Send her in, please."
It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.
"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.
"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.
This is it.
The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.
He looks like he was born to be in charge.
"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"
"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."
I knew it. Take no crap.
"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."
"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"
"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.
"That's good."
He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"
“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”
He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”
“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful.”
“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”
“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”
“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.
“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”
Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."
"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."
"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."
“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."
“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”
He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”
A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”
“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.
“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”
“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”
You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”
“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”
“Within reason?”
Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”
The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.
“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”
Sounds like a date. Is it though?
“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”
"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.
"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."
“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”
Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.
I probably look ridiculous.
“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.
“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”
“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”
He sounds too good to be true.
“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”
“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”
“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”
Careful. You’re going to spoil me.
“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.
“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”
Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”
“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”
“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”
You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.
Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?
“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”
“Is your passport current?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”
You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”
“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”
You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.
Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?
"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."
You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.
"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”
“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”
That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”
“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”
“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”
“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”
“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"
"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"
He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."
It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."
He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”
“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.
“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”
“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.
His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”
"I do," you said.
"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."
Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"
His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."
"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."
"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."
"But you're paying them," you said.
"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."
You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.
That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.
"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."
"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.
"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"Not that I can think of," you said.
He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."
"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?
"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."
Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"
"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."
Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".
And that you weren't alone.
"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."
"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."
"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."
"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.
But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."
This is going to be the longest week ever.
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I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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bucketsofmonsters · 7 months
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The Witch's Apprentice - Part 7
cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, agoraphobia, depression, more tags will be added as the story continues
male demon x afab reader
Word count: 3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
You woke up alone and felt anything but. The distant buzz of people outside, on the streets, bustling about the hallways of the inn, felt suffocating. It all seemed so loud now, so deafening. 
Lucien appeared in front of you, giving you a quiet “Good morning,” and suddenly, it wasn’t loud at all, his voice cutting through the hum that had seemed deafening moments before. 
“How’re you doing?” he asked as you blinked up at him from your seat on the bed. 
Was his voice quieter than usual? Or maybe that was just how people sounded with the constant buzz of a city in the background. 
“I don’t have any stuff,” you said. It was a trivial complaint, you knew that, but you wanted something to hold onto. Anything that was yours, that wasn’t so foreign. 
He laughed and it felt cruel. You knew it shouldn't, that he was trying to help, but it felt cruel that he was allowed to do that right now, while you felt like you’d been broken into pieces. “We’ll get you new stuff, don’t worry about that.”
Like it was that simple. Like you could just get new stuff and move on. 
It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. He was the reason you were still here. But some part of you; some unsnuffable, horrible little instinct; wanted to blame him. Without him, you would still be home. Without him, nothing would have changed. 
“I just…” you began, with no idea how to articulate any of this to him. 
And then, with the most distressed expression you’d ever seen from him, he interrupted you and said, “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And that was it. He faded away and you were alone again. 
You hated the deafening roar of the city he left you with. 
At least when he was here, you could pretend things would be okay. 
You didn’t have anything left. Anything but him. At least when he was in front of you, you had something to cling to. 
Hours passed before he reappeared in front of you. When he did, you didn’t manage to get a word out before a string of curse words escaped him and he faded out of existence again. 
You barely even moved as you waited for him. What would you do anyway? You had nothing to do but wait, so that’s what you did, patiently and quietly, on the bed he’d found for you. 
It was a shorter wait this time, under an hour if you had to guess. 
“Where do you keep going?” you asked as he solidified in the space in front of you. It was slower without you summoning him, like he had to put real effort into coming to you. 
A pained expression flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “I’m being summoned.”
“So often? You’re a popular demon,” you said it with the cadence of a joke, but neither of you found it particularly funny. 
“Summonings go through phases,” he said with a sigh. “Names get discovered or obtain reputations. I was too nice for a while, people got comfortable, so I get called upon a lot these days. I’m rectifying my mistake. Hopefully, my name will start to come with a bad taste in people’s mouths in a few decades.”
“Oh. Good luck with that, I guess.”
“Thank you. It’s been going pretty well. Only one major lapse in my judgment,” he said with a pointed look in your direction. 
You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I promise to tell everyone you were real mean to me. Very scary, the scariest demon you could imagine.”
A huff of laughter escaped him. “Good. My reputation may survive this little affair yet. Now, what have you been up to?”
Your eyes flicked around as you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound horribly tragic. 
He didn’t wait for you to find one before butting in at your obvious distress. “Come on, you don’t need to wait around for me. You haven’t had the chance to do anything in years, go talk to someone or something.”
You shrugged. “I’m fine where I am.”
He looked you up and down, evaluating you as you shrunk away from him. “What is it? Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened. I’m just fine in here.”
His eyes narrowed and you couldn’t understand why he didn’t believe you. Surely it wasn’t that difficult to understand. Surely anyone would be hesitant to go back out into the world after being stowed safely away for so long. 
“Something happened,” he said, no longer a question and entirely incorrect.
“It really didn’t. Actually, as long as we’re talking about it, I was thinking. I probably shouldn’t be here at all. I mean, I’m not doing much here. I could always stay in hell with you. It would be easier that way.”
“No,” he snapped, and you flinched back at his harsh tone. “No,” he said again, softer this time, a quiet correction. “I will not let you just lock yourself away again. I will not be your new Eden.”
“I wasn’t asking you to be,” you lied, unconvincing even to yourself.
“You’ll be fine. Just go, talk to someone, get some fresh air. It’ll get easier.”
He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, just how impossible it was. 
“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about me.”
He gave you an unmistakably worried look as he said, “Alright, I won’t. I just think that… shit.”
“Is it happening again?”
“Just go do something. I’ll be back when I can.”
As you laid down in bed, with no intention to go out and doing anything, you wondered just how often he got summoned. You’d never really considered it before. You knew it happened of course, but you’d never put real thought into it past how frustrating of an experience it must be for him. 
What would happen if two people tried to summon him at once? Would it hurt? Rip him in two? You doubted that any of the witches summoning him had considered it either. 
And what other things was he being forced to do out there? Surely Eden wasn’t the worst witch he’d ever encountered. What other horrible things weighed on him every day, that he couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for?  
As time ticked on, another thought wormed its way into your head. Maybe he wasn’t being summoned at all. He’d never had to leave this often before he’d helped you make your daring escape and now he could barely stay with you for more than a few minutes. 
It made sense. He’d done what he wanted to do. He’d freed you from the trap he was forced to lay. His part in this should be over, his guilt assuaged, if it weren’t for the way you clung to him like a lifeline. 
The thoughts swam around your head until he appeared once more, looking irritated, eyes distant and cold. 
The spark of insecurity in you couldn’t be snuffed out any longer, not even in the face of his bad mood. 
“Are you actually being summoned?” you blurted out. “Because if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” You knew it wasn’t true, that you needed him, but still couldn’t stomach the idea of him forcing himself to be here. “I thought we were friends but maybe that was naive. Is it just guilt? Is that what all of this was?”
He sighed, his hands rising to rub at his temples. “It's not... I don't know. Maybe at the beginning. I wanted you to be bad. I needed you to be. And you weren’t and it was the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quiet and broken and completely genuine. 
“You really are, aren’t you? Sorry for what? Sorry for not being awful?”
“Well, not…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for. You just knew that you were sorry. “I just meant, sorry for making things worse for you. That’s all.”
“You didn’t make anything worse, not in the long run. I like you. I’m glad you got out of there. It’s just that right at the start I needed you to be a bad person so I didn't feel so fucking guilty. I hate doing this, you know. Being so cruel. Especially to people like you. But if I don’t things get so much worse.”
“You’re not cruel,” you said, knowing it was true and yet somehow, deep down, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to hear. 
“I didn’t used to be. That’s the rule. My new rule. No more being nice to the inexperienced ones. Witches like yours don’t give you opportunities to lash out so if you want to establish a reputation, you have to be cruel when you can be. Every single time they give you the chance. When the little witches summoning their first monster give you an opening, you strike. That way the next one thinks twice when they see your name in some summoning book.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Feels awful too. But nothing feels worse than being forced to do even crueler things so you do what you can. Lesser of two evils.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” you said, knowing exactly what crueler things were flashing through his distant eyes. 
“Maybe not. Still wouldn’t have happened without me. You weren’t the first, you know. You were the first victim she kept, sure, but not the first one who fell prey to that damn forest. You’ve probably seen what’s left of some of them, some bones and remains of them in various forms. She got plenty of use out of them, I’ll give her that much”
Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke and your mind pulled back to the various bones and bits of gore in jars that you’d tended to and organized for her over the years. You’d never thought about them before, not really. Even trying to remember them, it was like a haze began to form in your mind, a buzzing pain starting to settle in over the distant images. 
You started to fall to the side before the feeling of a warm hand on your arm brought you out of your head. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before pulling back far too soon. “I’m sure she’s tainted most of your memories of anything she didn’t want you to see. It’s probably best to not try and look back.”
Now you had one more thing to mourn, even the memories of your home being ripped away from you. How cruel that you weren’t even allowed to keep those in this strange new place. 
“Right. I’ll do my best.”
He nodded. “I know you will. You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing really well.”
It was a kind lie. You appreciated him for trying to tell it.  
And then you were alone again. 
You did try leaving this place. You swore you did, despite knowing in the back of your head that you couldn’t do it. 
You peeked out the window on the tips of your toes down at unfamiliar faces on the street and stood at the door, pretending you knew how to steel yourself for the task ahead.
At the very least it was something to do with yourself when Lucien was away, gone to a summoning or back to hell or just living his life, doing things he refused to speak about with you, always keeping you at arms length. 
But that was unfair. He was there when he could be during the day, when some other witch didn’t whisk him away against his will to do whatever they pleased. 
He never spoke to you about it, about what they asked him to do. Every time you tried he got very quiet and then began to push back, asking you when you’d go outside. 
Nothing quieted you faster than that. 
At night he was always gone. 
At night you were small again. 
You hated sleeping, avoided it whenever you could. You were terrified of the dreams that might come. You’d honestly welcome a nightmare at this point. Your biggest fear was you would dream of home. Your biggest fear was waking up again after. 
Instead, you just stared at the wall every night, waiting for it to be morning so you could wait for Lucien again. 
A thud pulled you from your trance and your head jerked up towards the window just in time to see a bird falling to the ground below after having slammed into the glass it’s little mind couldn't comprehend. 
You were moving before you even had time to think. It was for the best, you weren’t sure you could’ve managed it if you’d had to think it through, to force yourself to get up and go check on the poor creature. 
You held your breath as you walked out the door of your room, freezing for a moment. You weren’t sure what you expected to happen. 
A woman walked by you, turning to the side and slipping by where you were blocking the hallway with a quiet, “Excuse me, love.”
There was a pressure building in your head, behind your eyes, closing your throat. This foreign air felt toxic, a bile rising inside of you. 
A gentle hand settled on your back and you practically jumped out of your skin to get away from it. 
You bolted at the contact, frightened, flighty. Darted not back inside but through the halls until you found a way outside, running around the perimeter of the building until you found it. 
It was a small, unassuming brown bird, crumpled on the ground, an injured wing tucked under itself. 
You picked it up as gently as you could, cradling it in the palms of your hands. 
Every instinct you had wanted you to run back and hide. Instead, you walked slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle the poor creature too much. 
The woman was no longer in the hall, having left at some point after you’d fled from her. Some part of you felt bad, hoped you hadn’t hurt her feelings or left her worried. 
Most of your attention was on the bird. 
You had no idea how to help it, would have to ask Lucien tomorrow. You were terrified to touch the bent wing, to make it worse than it already was. Even attempting to set it would hurt the poor creature and you couldn’t stomach the thought of it, of inflicting any more pain. 
You did what you could, forming a little bed to rest it in for the night, a little nest out of towels and pillows. 
It was almost funny in a way. A makeshift nest inside of your makeshift nest. You were no better off than this frightened, wounded little creature. 
At least maybe, someday, it could get out of here. 
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Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII
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*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!
WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD
My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!
Part VI - Part VIII (TBA)
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The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.
“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.
“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.
“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”
“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.
“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”
“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.
“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.
“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.
“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”
“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.
“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”
“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 
“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.
“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.
“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.
“I can always tell them to back off, love.”
“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”
You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.
“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.
“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.
“Goodnight love, rest well.”
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You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.
“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.
“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.
“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.
You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”
“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.
“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”
The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.
“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.
“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”
“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”
“And I know that.”
“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.
“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.
“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.
“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.
“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.
“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.
“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes
“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly
“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.
“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”
“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”
“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”
“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”
He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”
“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.
“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.
“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.
“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.
“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.
“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.
“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”
“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.
“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.
“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”
“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.
“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.
“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.
“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.
III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.
“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.
“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.
“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.
“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.
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270 notes · View notes
anystalker707 · 8 months
Text
Do I have a chance?
Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 600 Summary: Ace is just trying to get you to like him. Tags: he's so. ace. / Marco just sits back and eats popcorn while watching it happen
Requested by anon [Hi! Could I request male reader X Ace where Ace is nice and adorable with everyone except reader? Ace is not toxic or mean to Reader, he just acts more serious and tough around him (...)]
MASTERLIST
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          Your eyes observed Ace in the distance as he talked with the others. He would often giggle, showing that wide smile that made your heart flutter as he opened that wide smile. Sometimes he would joke about something, playing offended and being way too dramatic, and it was also way too cute when he randomly fell asleep. Only you knew how hard it was not to just reach out and ruffle his hair, play with his messy black strands, maybe squish his cheeks together, and kiss all over his freckles…
All of it was to be appreciated just by far, though. Marco and the others were so lucky.
“Ah, hey, (y/n),” Ace mumbled with a light wave as he approached when you sat at one of the tables on Moby Dick’s with a book in hand. “I was wondering, could you help me with some bandages? It’s kinda tricky to clean the wounds.” He pointed to the bandage on his shoulder. He didn’t smile. Okay. It was so awkward when Ace did that. It felt like he was annoyed by you.
“Sure.” You grabbed the marker and slipped it into the book before closing it. His eyes glanced down at it.
“What book is that?” Ace blinked as he observed you set it aside.
You raised an eyebrow, looking at it for a moment, and hummed. “Ah, it’s just something I grabbed from Marco.” You took the book while standing up, observing the cover for a moment. Ace always asked you about the stuff you read or watched, so you just told him about it before he asked. “It’s about a king who searches for the fragments of his dead wife’s soul. He’s the main character, along with a guy and a girl. This other guy is so cool. He’s stoic, y’know, all serious and tough. Very cool character. The king is way too dramatic.”
Despite your grin, Ace only raised an eyebrow in brief interest and nodded with a hum. “Oh, great. Sounds cool.”
Why did he always make things awkward?
You nodded with a hum. “Either way, I’m going to put it away. Where do you want to change your bandages—”
“Your cabin?” Ace said almost instantly. You blinked a couple of times before slowly nodding, and he exhaled softly. “Then let’s go.”
Ace was terribly quiet during all of that. He was serious, not reacting so much to your jokes and barely keeping the subjects going, so you just opted for silence. If he really disliked you, you didn’t want to keep bothering him. Even so; if he disliked you, why did he insist on always trying to be around you? You’d questioned Marco about that a couple of times, but all he did was scoff and chuckle in response.
You did favors to Ace once in a while, yeah—you two were close crewmates at the beginning—, and that was never the issue, just that he didn’t even thank you this time. Ace just walked out of the cabin before you could finish speaking, leaving his button-up on your bed.
          Ace had sort of told Marco his plans. Marco didn’t agree at all, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to convince someone with a thick head like Ace, so he didn’t even try too much. Honestly, Marco couldn’t even wonder how you were feeling with all this mess because he would often catch you gazing at Ace with those dreamy eyes.
One of the things that went through Marco’s head was certainly about the amount of functioning brain cells inside Ace’s head. If Ace was too shy to confess to you, maybe he should try some tactic that didn’t involve making you fall for him and confessing to him instead. Or just anything that involved Ace being Ace instead of someone who clearly didn’t please you.
As far as Marco could remember, it started when Ace wanted to find things to talk about with you, and the fact you were around reading a few books made it easy for Ace to figure out two things to chat about: what kind of stuff you liked, and also what your type was, hopefully. Marco could remember Ace ranting to him about how you loved all the serious and Stoic characters from those books, admiring their coolness. It was a matter of time until Ace was changing into that said demeanor whenever around you, but his attempts at being serious honestly just made Marco want to hide due to the second-hand shame. Ace was so stupid. He was like a weird kid.
On the other hand, Marco also wanted to strangle Ace to make him confess to you already. He noticed that most of the crew was dispersed now that you stopped by an island. You were sitting alone at one of the tables on the main deck, reading your book.
“Oi, Ace-yoi,” Marco caught Ace’s attention. “I’m going ahead to the shop, so can you tell (y/n) I’ll already be there?” He didn’t actually wait for Ace to answer before he left, waving back at Ace with his other hand stuck in his pocket.
Damn, Marco. He could’ve at least told Ace something about that before. At the moment, he wasn’t fucking prepared to talk with you. Ace’s mind was racing as he looked back and saw you there, nose buried in that same book from the other day. You were the only one there aside from an occasional pirate that would walk by, which wasn’t even relevant. Marco really hated him, didn’t he?
Ace cleaned his throat and tried to seem cool as he walked over to the area where you were, hands in his pockets. He could do it. He was going to do it so well that maybe you’d confess to him today. The same things went over and over in his mind as he leaned back against the wall, letting his hat cover his face lightly. You probably were sleeping hugging the shirt that he left in your room. He probably looked so cool. He was so cool.
… Well, why didn’t you approach him, then? What was taking you so long?
          You had noticed Ace’s presence there, of course—how could you not? It wasn’t even the first time he saw you after the day you fixed his bandages, but you still wished that Ace would finally come to thank you or ask for his shirt back. Despite having your eyes glued to the page, you weren’t reading a thing. You couldn’t read a thing.
This was already getting on your nerves. Did Ace think he was better than anyone? Did Ace hate you?
Ace jumped when the book was suddenly tossed at him. He gasped as he caught it before it fell to the ground, holding it tightly in his hands.
“What’s wrong with you?” You stood there, pointing at Ace accusingly. He had wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as he tried to say something, but it never came. You groaned, clenching your hands into fists and stepping towards him. “I get it that you don’t like me, but I don’t see the reason you keep hanging around! If I annoy you so much, then just avoid me, and I’ll return the favor!” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a moment; the dumbass just stood there tensely, face red. “Look, you could’ve at least acknowledged that I cleaned your wounds and taken your shirt back!”
Ace finally managed to choke something out. “But I don’t hate you!” His voice sounded weaker than he planned. Shit, he was making a fool of himself in front of you again. He groaned, looking at the book and slipping it in his pocket, not knowing what to do with it.
“You don’t have to lie, Ace!”
“I’m not lying!” Ace groaned as he pulled his hat over his face to hide it. “Ahh, I fucked it all up… I’m so sorry, (y/n)!”
A sigh escaped your lips. “Ace, it’s okay, really. You’re not obligated to like me or anything.”
Ace lowered his hat enough to look at you over the brim of it. He stuttered a couple of times but decided to take a pause—he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Look, I’m so sorry. I actually like you a lot.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, eyeing Ace up and down. “What do you even mean by that? Like me? Ace—”
“I was trying to be like those characters you talk about! From the books, I mean.” Ace sighed in frustration. He adjusted his hat, letting it hang over his back. “I thought you’d like me more if I did it.”
“Ace…” You sighed, burying your face in your hands and then rubbing your temples. Now all the hints that Marco dropped were starting to make sense. “Okay. Terrible choice, actually, because I like it when you’re being yourself.” Ace furrowed his eyebrows, so you nodded more. “I’m always hoping you’ll be silly and playful when you’re around me because it’s so cute.” Your cheeks reddened as you confessed it, but there was no other way to fix things without talking it out, even more after a misunderstanding going on for so long. “Just be yourself, Ace. I actually like you a lot, as well.”
Ace was pouting a little, his cheeks all red. “Can I hug you, (y/n)? Pretty please?”
A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt your face heating up as well. “Yeah, yeah, I—”
He was in your arms before you could finish saying it, hugging you tightly. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again.”
“Yeah, you better.” You patted his back lightly with a sigh.
“You know,” Ace chuckled a little bit as he pulled back; his cheeks were redder as he looked away. “Do I, y’know, do I have a chance with you now that I’m being the way you like me?”
You raised an eyebrow and slowly grinned wide. “Hmm, I’ll think about it,” you teased a little, kissing his cheek.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
638 notes · View notes
2smolbeans · 6 months
Text
Part 1 Part 2.5 character info
He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.
"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "
Love Me, Love Me Not (2)
Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader
*unedited
Tags: small description of Nsfw- they don't fuck, self loathing, hostage keeping, one sided attraction, betrayal, mentions of previous friendships the yandere broke, slight angst, yandere is attracted to someone else, escape planning, mentions of a previous murder victim, reader is complicit to the murders, guilt, past memories.
Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-
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You look at the door, contemplating your next move. It's right there, just staring at you. The latch was loose, Marco didn't consficate the butter knife like he did usually whenever the two of you ate, and he was no where to be seen. It was so fucking conveinent, so perfect. Too perfect...Maybe you were just paranoid. The latch. The door. Just do it. Run. Sprint. Why were you panicking? This was all on you now. Your legs were shaking as you wobbled your way towards the door, grabbing the butterknife that you were previously cutting the lamb chops with. Trembling, you tried to bust open the secuirty latch. But ultimately you ended up throwing the butterknife into the sink.
Falling onto the couch, grabbing a soft pillow as a soother, you let out a frustrated scream. It's better to be safe than sorry. If anything, Marco could be hiding behind the door waiting for you. For all you know, Marco could be waiting outside the apartment complex exits, standing by while he prepares to tackle you when you finally rush outside. He could be testing you. Why wouldn’t he? It was just predictable. You knew better than to assume that Marco would freely let you loose.
So you waited, and waited. The more time passed, the more you started second guessing your choice. Wow, maybe he was just clumsy. For what seemed like forever, Marco finally rushed into the room, slamming the door open before closing it shut.
"Did I scare ya?"
He smugly spoke, swaying his way towards you while he dragged two suitcases. Stiff from the frozen fear that had shot you in the chest, you only stared at Marco wide eyed.
"I'll take that as a yes..? Anyways stay put, I just need to do this real quick.."
Peeking into the contents of the suitcases, you heard Marco examine and fix the locks. Noticing that one of the latches were left loose, Marco turned back to look at you- surpirsed yet expecting this from you. You stayed, you're still here.
Huh...
While Marco was preoccupied with himself, you reached out into one of the luggages. It was your stuff! Holding out an old shirt of yours, you let out an accidental gasp.
"Oh yeah, I figured that you might want a few things of yours. I mean I can't have my roomie empty handed~"
Underwear, socks, shirts- everything! He even brought a few extra things like your plushies and accessories! Smiling, you thanked him while you zipped up the zipper of the suitcase.
"No problem dude! Anyways you can go do whatever, fool around in your room or something. I dunno?"
Can you leave?
"Hahaha! HA! You're hilarious!"
Scoffing, you nudged Marco's shoulder, making your way to your 'bedroom'. Closing the door behind you, you took out all of your belongings from the two suitcases. Searching through the pile of stuff you had, you managed to find your phone! Immediately powering it on, you tried calling the authorities. Even trying to turn on your mobile data so that you could contact somebody through your socials. Though expectantly, your phone had blocked all of those options. No service, no nothing. Scrolling through the photo gallery, you looked at the photos you took, all the stupid screenshots you saved. You and him, it's always been the two of you. Of course, sometimes it would be you, him, and.. Matheias and Angela.. You just stare at their faces, feeling nothing as you observe their smiles. You were all so happy back then..
"
Matheias screamed as he lunged himself towards Marco, crying as his sobs echoed the room. Quickly, you grabbed Matheias by the arm, struggling to keep him still as he dragged you along with him. You shouted at Matheias, scolding him while also begging him to calm down as he continued to howl at Marco. Trying your best to keep Matheias away from Marco, you were forced onto the floor as Matheias shoved you away from him. Showing concern, Marco rushed towards you, trying to help you back on your feet.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER- HOW COULD YOU?!"
He screeched, throwing chairs, his face red with anger. Helping you up, Marco cautiously approached Matheias- holding his two palms up as he slowly approached. Calmly, Marco tried to speak to Matheias.
"Come on..Please let's not do this. Not now - just not now, okay? Please, let's just talk this out-"
Panicked, Matheias threw something at Marco, trying to keep more distance.
"LIAR! You fucking CUNT!"
Persistent, Marco was beginning to lose his composure. His voice was now on the verge of shaky tears as he lowered himself to Matheias's height level.
"P-Please..We just- it's her- fucking hell.. Come on Matheias! Really man?"
The more Marco spoke with sincerity, the more Matheias reacted. The more Marco tried to reach out to Matheias, his grieving work buddy.. His best friend..The more terrified you saw Matheias get.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You're sick- Stop that. Those aren't real.."
Trying to descalate the situation, you spoke firmly towards Matheias. Enough is enough. You've had it with the accusations about Marco, the delusions and rumors Matheias had accumulated about him. It was tiring seeing Matheias grow bitter against the only person trying to hold everyone together. You were annoyed with how he was reacting. Everyone was mourning, nobody was themselves. You understand that, you can sympthazie with him. You're also hurting. You miss her too. It was just the three of you now. So why, out of all people, he could've chosen to take his anger out, did it have to be Marco? Hysterically, Matheias let out a series of laughs. Rolling his eyes as he pointed a finger at you.
"Oh yeah! Of course you believe him! I think I know why. Trying to get some brownie points aren't you?"
He marched towards you, keeping his finger pointed at you. His voice so loud and angry, it began to ring your ears.
"It's always been like that! Don't you find it fucking unfair how he's always the innocent little sheep in every sitaution?!"
He let out an exasperated breath, his hands aggressively flying everywhere.
"But NOOOOOO! EVERYONE LOVESSS MARCO! The fucking psychopath. Fucking murderer. And I'm the only one that fucking knows!"
Stop it, you beg. You're being delusional, you cried. You held back your tongue, knowing that Matheias wasn't being himself. He always had an issue with his temper, so you knew you had to be patient with him. But you've done that so many times throughout the friendship. It's beginning to run thin. Espically now.
"Why don't you just say it huh? Why don't you just admit it? Tell him. Just fucking-"
Out of instinct, you rushed towards Matheias. Raising your hand as the palm of it harshly came into contact with his face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you slap him again..And again..And again..Stopping when Marco had to pull you away from him. Holding you in a hug as the hiccups and sniffles begin to escape you.
It was quiet for a while. Your sniffles and his loud, hyperventilating breathes were the only thing left in the room. You remember the look in his eyes, the grief he felt when he saw Marco shake his head dissapointingly. As tension filled the room, suffocating the three of you in an uncomfortable moment- unsure of what was to happen next. Matheias finally spoke up, defeated as he slammed his hand against the table. Memorial cards, photographs, and sympathy letters falling onto the ground.
"..You know what? Fine. Suit yourself. But she's gone, and I know who fucking did it. Sooner or later, you'll know I'm right. And when you do, you'll be wishing that you listened to me."
Without a word, Matheias grabbed a memorial card. Shoving chairs out of his way while he walked out the door. With a final glance, he looked at Marco, and then at you. Scowling, he shut the door violently, leaving you and Marco alone.
"
Your eyes burned as you stared at the ground. Your body feeling limp as you pressed your back against the bedframe for support. Matheias was always the smart fucker of the group..You wonder how he'd react if he knew what was going on. Probably with a snarky remark of how "I told you so!". Funny how the end of their close bond was the start of yours. You want to cry, to get rid of this awful feel that brewed inside of you. But you can't. Maybe it was your body's way of punishing you for being such an awful human being.
Yeah sit with your guilt. Let it simmer with no outlet to release it.
Looking at the screen, you decided to check out your notes. Scrolling through them, you recalled how you always used it as a personal diary rather than a proper agenda tool. Just a pile of insecurities about your crush on a friend who clearly had the hots for someone else. A bunch of useless shit that you bitched about. A series of notes that revealed what type of selfish person you truly were.
Last opened a week ago...?
What?
Your heart sank as you looked at the bottom of each note.
Each note, every single one of them, he read them all. All the words you said to yourself, all the thoughts that you had- he knew about it. You went rigid the more you thought about it. Before..Was he playing with your feelings? He knowingly roped you into this shitfest because he knew he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were the perfect loyal pawn that helped him clean the messes.
Hahaha. Haha. Ha.
That's hilarious, isn't it? You stand up, furious of how stupidly feeble you felt. You pick up the clothes and your belongings and organize them in their rightful place. The couch, when he touched you like that..It was just to keep you on your toes, to keep you obedient. Your 'reward' for being so good.. Pissed, you started to pace around your room. That's it, you want out. You should've left the room when you had the chance. You lay there on the floor, mind numb as you stare into nothingness. That poor girlfriend, whoever they are, hoped they were okay. Why did Marco like them again? How did they even meet? Do you even remember what she looks like? You should know, he's talked about her so many times you've lost count. Charlie? Ashlyn? Abby? No.. none of those sounded right. Does it matter in the end? You should be worrying about yourself.
What if you tied your clothes and made a makeshift rope? Looking down through the window, you grimaced as you thought about it. It's too high. You're on the highest floor of the building. You laughed at another desperate thought that came up. What if you fought Marco yourself? Sure, yeah, if you wanted to get suplexed to death. Right, fight the 6'2 "maniac who goes to the gym every week and could easily pick you up like a ragdoll. There has to be someway.. Who knows how long he really plans on keeping you. It was so easy for him to drop Matheias, someone he knew longer than you - and swiftly wiped Angela off the face of the earth. You're next. Time was ticking. You sat there for a while. Thinking to yourself. Did Marco really care about anything other than himself? Is he capable of emotion? He has some capability, or maybe he plays the illusion that he does fairly well.
Without another thought, you got up, walking towards his room. Knocking the door, you called his name. No answer. You knock again. No answer. You try opening the door to check if he's inside. It's locked. Going to the front door, you began to play with the locks. Loudly banging them against the doorframe, the metalic sounds echoing the entire room. Still no response. Using this opportunity, you scan the entire apartment, looking for anything you could use or take note of. But you couldn’t think of anything. Deciding to go back to your room, you try to get some shut eye. Changing into some nightwear to get comfortable.
Eventually, you were able to find yourself melting into the matress. Dreaming about what could've been, you were sound asleep. You wished you could've stayed like that forever. Blissful and full of rest. However, it was short-lived as you felt yourself being lifted up. Groggily, you were brought up onto your knees. Slowly, you were propped up at a certain position while a warm breath fanned against the back of your neck. Your back was pressed against his chest, legs spread apart, and hands on both sides of your thighs. Fully awake and aware, you froze as you felt his hands play with your chest - barely grazing at your nipples. Alert, you tried to turn your body away from his wandering hands. Out of protest against your reaction, Marco hushed you as he pushed you back to the position.
"Ah ah ah. Nono. Stay put for me okay? Trust me"
It felt so foreign with the way he spoke to you with such geniune softness. You couldn't help but lean further against his body as he began to travel his hands further down your lower half.
"You've been so good, such a good friend to me..I've never really thanked you properly, so I'll do it now..Yeah?"
His hands now grabbing onto the waistband of your pajama pants, you went paralyzed. Why was he doing this?
"You deserve it. That's why.. Do you not like this?"
What about her? Doesn't he hate you for standing in the way?
"Just answer my question. Do you like this or not?"
You were starting to get on his nerves. So quietly, you meekly squeaked for him to continue. Even though you knew you should've denied his offer and advances, you still couldn't help but fall into him. So, lifting your hips up, you allowed him to pull your pants down.
"I just want to make it up to you, that's all..You'd enjoy something like this afterall.."
Rubbing all the right places, going at that perfect rhythmic pace, focusing on your body movements. He made sure to treat you carefully, leaving gentle kisses along your neck as he watched your chest rise up and down. Back and fourth, he left your mind in a daze as he whispered those sweet praises into your ears.
"Finally got what you wanted, huh? How long have you been thinking of this for? Hah.. And don't lie to me, I know everything.."
You didn't answer him as you focused on chasing your release. Your hands pathetically gripping onto his arms while you whined as his hands continued to play and stroke at your sex.
"It's only fair. I realised if you hadn't helped me, I would've been so lost..So good job. You did so well for me. You earned this"
Twisting and brewing, you felt the heat inside you threaten to spill as he changed his pace. His hands now trying to chass the pleasure out of you while you quivered underneath him. You were close, so close to tipping over the edge.
"I love you"
With those words that you so desperately fantasized about for years, you felt the heat in your body spread. Milking out your orgasm, Marco continued at the same rhythm, pulling his hand away after he felt you try to shove him off. Getting off the bed as he left you there to calm down, he wiped his hands dry. Smirking at you as if he had just pulled the world's most amazing prank.
"I did good didn't I?"
....What the fuck was that? Why in the hell did you say yes? Why the fuck did he- Looking at him in confusion, you pulled up your pants. Giving him a look that demanded an answer.
"Okayy fine. I just felt like it. Plus it's fun seeing you melt like puddy!"
Huh? You felt dumbfounded as he kept walking around the dark room. The moonlight providing the only source of light to the bedroom.
"It's funny..You like me. I've known that for a while..Even before the notes. You were never really a good liar."
He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.
"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "
He leaned close to your face, his hands caressing your cheek.
"I only said it to get your rocks off. And clearly..It worked~"
Well fucking ouch..A pang went through your chest as Marco moved away from you. Disregarding your feelings he kept going, the softness and genuie warmth you felt earlier, disintegrated into nothingness. Like a flip switched inside him, he was back to his comedic cold personality.
"Ohh hun..Please don't be dissapointed. I wasn't lying when I said you deserved every second of that moment.."
Circling the room, he continued to monolog casually.
"Afterall for being such an obedient dog staying put in the room..You deserved a little treat!"
Patting your head to further squeeze out the feelings in your heart, Marco left the room.
"I'll see you tommorow okay? Dream about me~"
Alone by yourself again as you laid your body on the bed. You curled yourself into a ball, grabbing all the blankets, hugging them for some comfort. His words replayed in your head, trying to process what just happened. He was fucking with you. But why? Why like that? Staring up at the ceiling with your back on the bed, you muttered a few words while you felt the shame creep up on you.
What an asshole.
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.
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Part 3 coming soon!
You looked at her in horror as she sat there on the chair, tied up and gagged. Her face was stained with fresh tears as she struggled against her restraints. Oh god, did things not go well with her and Marco? Why was she here? You tried calming her down as she thrashed around, threatening to tip over the chair.
.
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