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#( cause i knew i was in love with you when we sat in silence )
faithshouseofchaos · 6 hours
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The young lewis and young nico being told off by their boyfriend for starting brocedes as a joke and now no one with let nico and lewis near each other without it being on the gossip pages and f1 news
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“Idiot’s the both of you” — Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton x Male!reader
Word count — 631
Angsty but not really
I scrapped this three times before I got something I liked
Y/n couldn't believe his ears when he heard his two idiotic boyfriends say on live air that they were no longer friends. To add fuel to the fire Nico had announced his retirement from the sport causing everyone to lose their minds over his decision. Over a couple of hours, you watched as the tweets rolled in calling them Brocades. Nico and Lewis had been very close all their lives with Crofty calling them everything but lovers.
If only that was true. They were lovers not that anyone knew and thanks to the two of them no one would know about their relationship the three of them had been together for years in secret.
“What in the bloody hell is wrong with the two of you?” Y/n asked pacing back and forth in front of the couch where Nico and Lewis sat watching. Both men sat on the couch like children getting scolded by a parent. They were both trying to hold their laughs in as you stood there glaring down at them both. The two looked up at you as you paced back and forth, trying to be serious but failing.
"We were bored," Lewis said.
"We just wanted to have a little bit of fun," added Nico with a mischievous grin on his face. Both men tried to keep themselves from laughing but failed miserably as they both chuckled a bit. The atmosphere in the room was laced with amusement as they tried to keep themselves composed in front of you.
You shook your head at their antics, trying to hold onto your composure. "This isn't funny, you two. Do you have any idea the chaos you've unleashed with your little 'Brocedes' stunt?" “We can’t go out in public anymore without being on every gossip page in the world!” Y/n added.
The men on the couch both looked at each other before Lewis spoke. “Ah, come on. It’s not that bad, right?”
Nico chuckled as he nodded in agreement with Lewis. “It’s just a bit of harmless fun, love. It’ll blow over soon enough.” You let out a loud sigh, shaking your head. “Harmless fun? You’ve caused a mess that will be impossible to clean up. People aren’t going to forget about 'Brocedes' anytime soon because the world thinks you hate each other.”
Lewis and Nico shared another glance, both still trying to keep their laughter under control. They knew you were right, but they couldn’t help but find the whole situation a bit humorous.
Lewis spoke up first, “It’s not like we meant for things to get this out of hand. We just wanted a bit of spice in our lives, love.”
“If you wanted to spice up your life you could have tried something in the bedroom like any normal person would. But no you two just had to make them think you hated each other”
The men on the couch were stunned into silence for a few moments as they processed your words. Then they suddenly burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.
Lewis was the first to speak up, struggling to control his laughter. “You have a point there, love.”
Nico chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I suppose we did go about things in a bit of a roundabout way, didn’t we?” You crossed your arms as you watched them both struggling to contain their laughter. "You two are unbelievable."
Lewis smirked as he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "We know."
Nico added, unable to suppress a cocky grin. "And you love us anyway." You couldn’t help but chuckle at their responses. They had a point; you did love them despite their ridiculous antics. "You’re both impossible," you said lightly, shaking your head in feigned disapproval.
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spiinsparks · 2 years
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Waiting Know that I’ll always be waiting Do you believe what I'm saying I'm in no hurry So let it go, let it fall, let it fly And keep on trying Cause I knew I was in love with you When we sat in silence
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chheolie · 2 months
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"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life."
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choi seungcheol as father of a little girl in primary school.
d/n = daughter name
you and seungcheol received a notice from your daughter's school asking that at least one of you should come to the teachers' office. normally, you are the one who attends d/n's school meetings, but since seungcheol had a day off, he offered to go.
upon arriving at the school, in front of the teachers' office, he found your daughter sitting on a bench, her head down, swinging her legs. seungcheol approached calmly but worried. he knelt down, held d/n's hands, and asked in a gentle voice, "what happened, dear?" d/n didn't respond, continuing to look at the ground.
soon, the teacher noticed seungcheol's arrival and approached. he stood up to greet her formally.
"mr. choi, sorry to make you come here, but in cases like this, we must follow protocol," the teacher said. "d/n hit a classmate, and we advise that her parents talk to her."
seungcheol was surprised by the news, as his daughter was not one to hit others; on the contrary, she was a sweet and delicate girl. he looked at d/n and felt a pang in his heart seeing her so sad.
"oh... i'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say. "this won't happen again."
the teacher nodded and asked him to sign a notice of awareness, which he did. "shall we go home?" he asked with the same gentleness, picking up the backpack beside her.
she stood up and took her father's hand. the two walked in silence to the car. seungcheol knew she was afraid of being scolded, so he preferred to respect her space.
d/n settled into the back seat. while adjusting her seatbelt, seungcheol said, "don't worry, my princess, appa won't scold you. but i need to understand what happened." he looked into her eyes, conveying reassurance.
the little girl hesitated for a moment but with sad eyes said, "i'll talk when we get home and are with omma."
seungcheol agreed in silence, patted her hair, and closed the door. he then sat in the driver's seat and started the car, glancing at his daughter from time to time in the rearview mirror.
upon arriving home, you were in the living room waiting for them. you stood up seeing the frustration in your husband's eyes and your daughter's head down.
"what happened?" you asked, worried but maintaining a calm tone.
"d/n, can you tell us now?" seungcheol asked.
"a boy spent the entire class pulling my hair," she began with a trembling voice. "so i did what uncle jeonghan told me to do."
"what did uncle jeonghan tell you to do?" seungcheol asked, raising an eyebrow, fearing the answer.
"he said that if any boy at school messed with me, i should kick his butt," she replied.
you controlled yourself as much as possible not to laugh. the situation was funny; you would definitely have done the same, and jeonghan would definitely say something like that.
seungcheol gave you a reproachful look. he knew you wanted to laugh because he knew you perfectly.
"i can't believe i have three of you in my life," cheol murmured, shaking his head.
you placed a hand on seungcheol's shoulder, trying to comfort him but unable to hide a smile.
"we're going to talk to uncle jeonghan about this, and you, little princess, need to understand that violence is not the solution, even if he started it," you said to your daughter, with a firm but loving look.
d/n nodded, understanding she had caused trouble, but feeling supported by her parents.
seungcheol decided to impose a light punishment so d/n could reflect on what she had done: no snacks for a week. after talking to d/n, he called your brother, jeonghan.
"jeonghan, we need to talk about what you told d/n," seungcheol started, serious.
"what did i say?" he asked, confused.
"you told her to kick other kids' butts," seungcheol said sternly.
on the other end of the line, jeonghan laughed.
"ah, so my little princess really did that?" jeonghan responded proudly, still laughing.
"it's not funny," seungcheol scolded. "she needs to learn to handle these situations differently."
"sorry, cheol, i didn't think she would take it so seriously," jeonghan said, still in an amused tone.
after finishing the call, seungcheol finally relaxed on the couch. he saw his daughter approaching with a sweet, bright look; she knew perfectly how to melt her appa's heart.
"appa, i'm sorry for what i did. i promise not to do it again," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.
seungcheol took a deep breath, trying to maintain his resolve.
"i know, dear, but you're still punished with no snacks for a week."
d/n, however, didn't give up. she was good at this. she continued to stroke her father's face and looked at him with the most adorable eyes only she could make.
"appa, please... just one snack?" she asked, with the sweetest voice possible.
seungcheol tried to resist, but her affection was irresistible. he sighed again and finally gave in.
"alright, just one," he said, defeated.
you, watching the scene from afar, couldn't contain your laughter. "i knew you wouldn't resist her," you said, laughing.
seungcheol looked at you with an embarrassed smile.
"it's hard to say no to her," he admitted.
d/n smiled, happy to have gotten what she wanted. before taking the snack, she hugged her father again.
"i love you, appa," she said, with a mischievous smile.
seungcheol, still smiling, responded: "i love you too, my little one."
d/n then held out the snack to him, with an expectant look.
"want to share the snack with me, appa? so we can eat together!"
seungcheol hesitated for a moment, but d/n's kindness and affection were irresistible. he accepted the snack with a smile.
"sure, let's share."
you laughed to yourself, watching your mini-you in action.
"when i met jeonghan, i never imagined i would have two other perfect copies of him in my life," seungcheol commented, seeing you laugh at the situation.
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leascorner · 8 months
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b.b. | With child
Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.
Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader
Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.
Words Count: 2.1k
Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!
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“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.
Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.
His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.
You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.
He did not mind, or so he thought…
Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.
Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.
The ride home that night was particularly quiet.
Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.
On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.
He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?
He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.
When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.
Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.
Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.
“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.
Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.
You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.
Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.
He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.
He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.
He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.
In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.
All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.
It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.
“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.
“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.
He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:
“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”
“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”
“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.
It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.
“My love, this is not your fault.”
“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.
“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”
“Ben, of course, no!”        
“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.
You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.
He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.
“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”
“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.
Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.
“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”
“Ben, of course, I want your children!”
Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.
If he could not tell you, he could still show you…
Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.
“We should just take some time away from here.”
“What do you mean? The season only began-”
“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”
Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.
His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.
“France, it is then.”
Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.
One of the many to come.
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kbagraces · 2 months
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Let it Happen - LN4
Lando Norris x singer!gf
summary: dating rumours always followed the pair but despite both of their status’ they liked to keep their private life private… until a certain someone’s private instagram gets hacked
a teensy eensy bit based on Let it Happen by Gracie Abrhams
not proof read as always!
Mornings like this were true bliss for you both. Both your lives were faced paced, loud and demanding, though you wouldn’t change it for the world, you craved the serenity of silence sometimes.
His face was pressed deeply into your crisp white pillows, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. The screams of fans and demanding nature of your job felt so far out of touch in these moments.
The covers stopped at the base of his torso his toned back on show, adorned with loving scratches from your antics the night before. You hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks due to him finishing his last race before the summer break began and you being chained to the studio finishing up your final touches to your second album.
Your fingers traced the loving marks upon his back, softly so he wouldn’t be disturbed, God knows he needed the rest. You noticed his face twitch to which you retracted your hand, hoping you hadn’t woken him.
Unfortunately you had.
He opened on of his eyes to look at you before mumbling, “why did you stop?” His voice deep and strained as he was still half asleep.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” You smiled at him, he turned over on his side his body now facing you, his arm reaching to your waist before pulling you into him your face slotting into his neck as he rested his chin atop of your head.
“I was waking up already, my love. It’s so freaking bright in here.”
You smiled at his comment, he always complained about the sheerness of your curtains, the sun almost always being the thing that caused the two of you to be drawn out of your slumber.
“The sun brings me good energy I’m not changing them.”
“We’ll have to compromise when we get our own place” his chest vibrated as he spoke. You were slightly taken aback. You were so head over heels in love with Lando but you hadn’t ever spoken about moving in together. Granted you assumed it would happen one day but you hadn’t spoken about such thing yet.
“Don’t freak out.” He said pulling away from you slightly, to look you in the eyes now. He knew you too well. He knew about your past and how you’d jumped into relationships before, moving too quick, getting caught up in fantasies that only left you hurt and alone.
You were closed off when Lando met you, God did he have to put the work in to prove he wasn’t going to mess you around like the boys before. But that was the difference between him and them, they were boys, he was a man.
“I’m not freaking out.”
“You’re freaking out.” He chuckled, as the wideness of your eyes contradicted the calmness of your tone.
“It’s going to happen. We won’t rush but it’s you and me forever now. Whenever you’re ready of course but don’t fight it, let it happen.” His hands stroked your fallen piece of hair from your eyes to behind your ear, his hand cupped your faces pulling you in, a gentle comforting kiss upon your lips.
He almost felt your dismay leave your body as you became less tense as a result of his touch. Your body always betrayed you, he just had a way of making everything seem okay.
Your life was stressful but Lando made every noise and distraction quiet with the simplest of touches and the kindest words.
Your domestic bliss was interrupted by the shriek of your phone, your alarm blaring notifying you it was time to get back to reality.
“What are you going to do whilst I’m at the studio?” You queried as you stood at the foot of the bed, pulling on your favourite pair of jeans.
“Absolutely nothing.” He smirked as he finally sat up in your bed. It was his first full day off from work. His phone was finally allowed to be on Do Not Disturb, he had two weeks of silence before he had to get back to training.
You hummed in response, you wish with everything you could just lounge around with him all day, but unfortunately your life couldn’t stop just because he was back. You had an album to finish.
“Can I swing by later?” He was really testing the waters today. Your relationship was sacred and you did all you could to keep it out of the public eye.
There was whispers here and there, but they went as quickly as they came. Your biggest blip was when you attended the Miami Grand Prix this year.
You two were doing so well, to the outside world you just seemed like any other celebrity attending the race for sponsorship deals and relevancy as the rumours of your sophomore album were hitting the news as you were practically living in the studio.
All was fine until Lando crossed the finish line, winning his first ever race in F1. You let him celebrate with his team initially, knowing if you got too close you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him how immensely proud of him you were.
But your composure went out the window the second you saw him on the top step. You were stood in the crowd below, tears pooling in your eyes, you were in awe of him and that’s when the picture was snapped.
It circulated for a while, lasting longer than the whispers of before. But like any thing in the modern age, it got overtaken but some bigger news about the latest affair in Hollywood.
“Please y/n. I just want to see you doing what you’re best at.” He begged, you appreciated his support, you were convinced he was your biggest fan.
“Maybe another day Lan. Not yet, I’m sorry.” You saw his face waver, he wouldn’t pressure you, but his disappointment was far from hidden, it was clear.
“I’m sorry.” You offered, “another day I promise.”
You kissed goodbye and set on your way leaving your boyfriend to ponder about your LA apartment.
———
You were sat on the studio floor, cross legged. Your notepad before you, lyrics written messily across the pages. Words written, erased and rewritten, you just couldn’t get the thoughts from your head to paper. You were getting increasingly frustrated with, this song. You had the initial idea and it had to be perfect, it was the final song of the album and it had to be perfect.
“Y/n go home, you’re going to drive yourself crazy.” Your producer sighed to you, he believed the album was perfect the way it was. It was so ready to be released he was unsure why this idea you had couldn’t wait for another project.
You raised your hand at him, mumbling some words, jotting them down and erasing them once again.
“Argh!” You were close to tears as you threw your pen across the room. Why couldn’t you just get the words out.
“Y/n! Home!” Your producer demanded, you were getting nowhere, you both know it. A broken pen he could deal with but at this point he feared you’d start going for his equipment.
You sulked the whole way home, the words in your head needed to be sung, they just couldn’t flow like the usually do.
Lando was perched on the couch as you skulked through the front door. He noticed the slouch in your shoulders and the frown etched on your face.
“What’s wrong?” He sat forward on the edge of the sofa, his legs apart. You sat on the floor beneath him, your head fell onto his lap as you sighed.
“I can’t get this done. I’m so close. I’m so desperate to get this final song perfect that it’s anything but perfect I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” You repeated, tears welling in your eyes. “I don’t want to cry this is so silly. But I need it to be perfect.”
He bent down kissing your forehead, before lifting your chin off his thigh to look up at him, your eyes glazed over, lips slightly wobbling.
“You don’t have to be strong here my love. Let it happen.”
——
Lando arose to the sound of your phone ringing. You still passed out on his chest your eyes still puffy from the outpour of emotion and stress you had been bottling up.
He picked up your phone, curious to see who was ringing at the crack of dawn.
Lillian (PR) 11 missed calls…
Oh.
The phone rang in his hand again, he slid from beneath you, you needed to rest. Perhaps it was a good thing Lillian was ringing about. He walked into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him before swiping to answer the phone.
“Y/N thank God!”
“Sorry it’s Lando, she’s still sleeping.” Your PR team was obviously aware of your relationship, they were the first people you told when you decided to keep the relationship under wraps.
“Actually you might be better to break the news to her,” her tone serious, concerned.
“Her instagram has been hacked,”
That’s not too bad Lando thought.
“Her private instagram, the photos of the two of you are plastered all over the internet. We’re attempting to do damage control but with the magnitude of both your fan bases it’s almost impossible. Ordinarily a relationship leak is not something to be too concerned about, but we know her views on it, we fear it’ll delay her progress.”
Lando wanted to bite back, their concern not being for your well-being as it should but for the delay of the album which will be the funding for their lives this year.
“Ok I’ll tell her, just do what you can.”
With that he hung up, unlocking your phone to check what had really been leaked.
There was photos of your first date, photos of you in the McLaren paddock, photos of the two of you at your sisters wedding almost everything you had every captured of your journey together was on the instagram, there was no escaping this. You couldn’t even deny it was Lando. It was there in colour for the world to see.
He checked the comments on some of the reposts,
username1: wait they are actually so cute together
username2: who is he though? not good enough for y/n
username3: she’s not as pretty without make up…
username4: omg new parents! mum & dad is that u?!?!
The responses mixed, the sound of your door opening pulled him from his scrolling.
You laughed blissfully ignorant at the sight, Lando stood randomly in your hallway, snooping through your phone.
“What are you doing out here? Having a snoop? Making sure I haven’t got 20 other boys on the go.” You laughed at yourself, one he didn’t reciprocate.
“Lan?”
“Don’t freak out.”
“Every time you say that I freak out, you’re already freaking me out!”
He turned the phone towards you, your private moments with him on display the world.
“No, no, no”
“It’s okay, my love it’s fine. The reaction is pretty good, Lillian called the team is working on it, but I’m afraid they’re out there now. But maybe it’s a good thing, we can be us without hiding?”
“It’s not about hiding Lan! It’s about protecting.” You shouted, you weren’t shouting at him, he knew that, you were shouting out of frustration.
“Come here.” He exclaimed reaching his hands out for you to take, when you didn’t move he grabbed them from the intense grip on your phone, sliding the device into his pocket and bringing your empty hands together between his.
He planted a loving kiss on your hands, “I promise you, this will all die down and we can be us again, we can still be private, it’ll still be ours.”
Your eyes filled of doubt, you wanted nothing more than to believe him, but as soon as your previous relationship became public they crashed an burned, each for different reasons but there was a theme to your previous break ups.
“Hey.” He snapped you out of your thoughts once more, a skill only he had. “It’s not going to happen again. I’m not doing anywhere. I’ve told you, you’re my future. It’s us two forever whether it’s just between us or us and the whole world. You have to trust me, I love you. Sometimes you just have to let things happen.”
———
yourusername:
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the ones you haven’t seen…
My brand new single “Let it Happen” will be releasing in two weeks. A little taster of my sophomore album, “The Secret of Us” !!
@landonorris just for you i let it happen ❤️
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lazycats-stuff · 7 months
Note
Please write Damian x friend reader who's really shy, and they have to make a school project together, and they do so at the manor, but because the reader is shy he doesn't want to meet the family. The family (to annoy damian) want to meet this friends, but Damian actually likes the reader and tries to protect him from his brother's
Hell yes. Oh I love this. The fam would do this. Alfred would be stopping them. I don't know why, but this gif is really adorable to me.
Summary: Damian has a crush and the boys decide to annoy them
Warnings: fluff, angst?, Damian comes out to Bruce and Alfred, shy reader... Mostly fluff though.
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Damian Wayne, the son of Batman has a crush on his classmate. Yes, you read it correctly. Damian has a crush on (Y/N) (L/N), a shy boy in his class. Damian thought he was adorable and his shyness made him even more cute to Damian, but Damian knew for a fact that he didn't have a chance with (Y/N).
Anyone who dates a Wayne, will be in the spotlight. And being in high school doesn't make it any better. The pressures and the fact that the girls and some guys were throwing themselves at him and for that, he only got his reputation as cold, not interested in anyone.
That made it much more difficult to even think about approaching (Y/N).
And the fact he was suffering alone made it painful. He didn't tell his family, knowing that they would push him to talk to him, but they wouldn't understand the situation that Damian is in. For Damian, (Y/N) is something that is both within his reach and yet so far, far away.
Damian has come to terms with the fact that he will never be able to be with (Y/N). If only he knew about (Y/N)'s feelings...
But fate has some other plans. During a biology class, the teacher announced that he will pair the kids to make a project. Damian dreaded it because there are two bad outcomes that could come out of it.
One is that he ends up with a person who wouldn't do anything and would just use it for bragging rights and would annoy him to no end. It would be awful and Damian would have to control himself to not kill someone and not to cause a scene.
And the second one is the fact that there is a chance that he will be paired up with (Y/N). That wasn't bad per say, not at all, not by any means. But... The mere fact that he would be paired with his crush wouldn't be easy, not even for Damian. He may have a lot self control, but with (Y/N)...
Damian remained calm when he was paired with (Y/N). Only externally. Internally? He was screaming. How does he even approach him? How in the hell? Okay... Try to be nice...
Damian rubbed his lips, trying to remain calm and devise a plan. Approach him when everyone leaves the classroom. Then tell him and give him phone number so they can contact one another... Okay... That's the first two steps.
Wait... What about his family? Oh no... Well, that's a thing to worry about later.
Damian took a deep breath as he approached (Y/N). (Y/N) blushed already and look at Damian with an uneasy smile. " Hi Damian. "
" Hey (Y/N). Can you give me your number so that I can text you the time and we can contact each other. " Damian said as he took his phone out, allowing (Y/N) to put his phone number in. (Y/N) did just that, ever so nervously.
Damian watched in silence, waiting patiently. After that, (Y/N) quietly mumbled see you later and left. Damian followed him, but in a much slower pace. He walked to his own locker, getting his stuff and leaving the school quickly, going to the car to let Alfred drive him away.
During the drive, Alfred noticed that Damian was bothered by something, but he knew that asking was going to be like pulling teeth. Painful and no one would even bother to do it, but Damian wasn't an average person nor a child.
So all in all, it will be a painful conversation, no matter how they turn it.
" Damian, can we talk? " Bruce asked as he sat down next to him on the couch, Alfred setting down the tea for the three of them.
" About what? " Damian asked as he put a book down on the coffee table. Bruce and Alfred got ready for this. Alfred sat down next to Damian, but not too close, just keeping some space in between the two.
" Something is bothering you and we want to know what's going on. " Bruce has started gently and Damian's internal guard went up quickly. They clearly don't know what, but... How will his father react about hearing that he is gay? Oh God...
" Nothing is bothering me. " Damian lied quickly, but Bruce saw right through it.
" You can always talk to us Damian.. You can always come to me, I will never judge you. " Bruce said softly and Damian had to take a very deep breath to stay calm...
Is he really going to come out now?
" It's... " Damian started, clearly out of his comfort zone. " I have a crush... "
Bruce and Alfred smiled. Damian is in love. " And what's her name? " Alfred asked.
And here it is.
" It's his. It's (Y/N). " Damian said quietly, getting ready for rejection.
There was silence for a couple of moments before Bruce hugged Damian tightly. Damian was shocked at that, more so when Alfred hugged him too, but he didn't question it by any means. He hugged Bruce back tightly.
" Please don't tell me that you think we were going to reject you master Damian. " Alfred said from behind, still hugging his grandson.
" Oh Damian... " Bruce said quietly, making sure to squeeze Damian tightly. " I would never judge you for being gay. You are my son and I won't love you any less. " Bruce says softly, rocking his son a bit to calm him down.
Damian nodded, hiding his face, not wanting these tears to fall down. He didn't want them to be seen.
And the time has finally come. (Y/N) has arrived into the manor and Bruce made sure to tell his other sons to stay clear and away from the library today. He said a few warnings and the other three seemed to listen.
Again, seemed.
The project was going well. Damian has been calmer and (Y/N) has been quiet, but was working hard to make it the best project ever. Damian was impressed by that and more impressed that his brother's weren't bothering him or (Y/N). But there was a bad feeling in the back of Damian's mind.
Something was going to happen.
And Damian isn't liking this at all.
And he was right. After an hour, Jason popped his head in. Damian whipped his head around so quickly that (Y/N) thought he got whiplash. (Y/N) blushed slightly at the sight of Jason who had a smirk on his face.
Damian got up quickly. No. This is not going to happen.
" Out Todd. " Damian said as he walked up to him and started pushing him out.
" Oh come on, I just want to meet you frie-" Jason was cut off with the door slamming in his face. He smirked at the sight of the barely controlled anger from Damian.
Oh he loves to push those buttons.
Damian took a deep breath and turned to (Y/N) with a small smile. " My apologies (Y/N), Todd is annoying and he loves to push my buttons. " Damian said as he sat back down and (Y/N) nodded with a small smile.
" It's okay, siblings are annoying. " (Y/N) said quietly.
" Do you have one? " Damian asked as he moved a notebook out of the way.
" A single child, I'm afraid. " (Y/N) said and Damian nodded.
And everything was fine. Until one hour later.
Now Tim popped his head in and Damian was going to kill him.
" Out Drake. " Damian said as he quickly stood up and started pushing him out, still calm, trying to not scare (Y/N), who just watched in silence and wonder.
" Oh Damian, " Tim started, but Damian just threw him out and slammed the door. (Y/N) raised his brow, curious, but to hesitant to ask.
" Again, my apologies, they are just annoying. " Damian said yet again and sat back down, getting focused to continue working on the project.
The silence was nice and comfortable and the library was just peaceful.
That was until the doors opened for the 3rd time and Damian stood up quickly, pushing out Dick into the hallway, closing the door.
" What the hell is wrong with you three?! " Damian whispered yelled and Dick sheepishly smiled.
" I just wanted to check on you two, to see if you need any help. " Dick said quietly.
" Sure. Make sure that these two don't come by again. " Damian said coldly and went back inside, clearly annoyed, trying to calm himself. But the moment he set his eyes on (Y/N), he was calmer and less annoyed.
" Sorry, another brother is annoying today. " Damian said, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down.
" Are they always like this? " (Y/N) asked softly and Damian nodded.
" I'm afraid so. " Damian said, glaring at the door for a second before he focused back onto the project.
After some times, they have actually managed to finish it. Damian was happy, but then this means that hanging out with (Y/N) is over. After this, they probably won't ever talk.
But Damian just couldn't let it go. He had to confess.
He had to.
But is he brave enough? Maybe.
" (Y/N)? Before you go, I need to tell you something. " Damian said once they were outside.
(Y/N) nodded and waited for Damian to speak.
" I... I like you. A lot... And... You are allow to say no, but do you want to go out with me? " Damian asked softly.
(Y/N) was outright speechless. Damian felt the same way? This had to be a dream...
" I would love to. " (Y/N) said, blushing like mad and rubbing the back of his neck.
" I'll text you the plans later. We can go tomorrow. " Damian said and Alfred got the car ready to drive (Y/N) back to his home. After (Y/N) and Alfred left, Damian slowly turned to his brothers who were eaves dropping.
" You 3 have 5 seconds to run before I get you. " Damian said coldly and the three quickly ran. Damian chased after Jason.
Bruce simply sipped his coffee. It's not worth his nerves. Or annoyance. Or even the agitation.
Bruce sigh. Just let it be.
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i4hischier · 7 months
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𝜗𝜚 just come home , lando norris
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✦ °. — girl dad!lando norris x fem!reader
✦ °. — plot: your husband has been away due to racing season so when your two year old vocalizes on the phone how much he misses him, he takes a break from his breaktime to come see his two favorite girls.
✦ °. — warnings: none, lando + reader get emotional, really cute like tooth rotting (wc: 902)
✦ °. — mars’ mind: i had this exact dream about lando a few nights ago and really really wanted to write about it before my head exploded
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it was slowly getting late as you stood in the kitchen washing up dishes from dinner, while your daughter lily sat in the floor playing with her toys. your phone started buzzing, you looked at it and saw lando was trying to facetime you. you hurried to dry off your hands and swipe to answer.
“hello!” lando beamed once your face appeared on the screen. “hi my love” you smile, propping yourself up against the counter on your elbows. “how are you doing?” he asks, its was bright out, he most likely was just now leaving the track he just raced on.
“oh i was cleaning up from dinner” you pause, “i watched your race, did good today im proud of you!” the praise made lando smile from ear to ear, he got p4 which isnt podium but still something to be proud of. “maybe that why i did so good, cause i had my lucky charm watching me” he giggled at his own remark, even made himself blush.
you walk over to your daughter, sitting on the floor next to her. “actually, you had both of your lucky charms!” you smile, showing lily the phone. lando’s face lit up and he waved at her, “hi darling!” he chimed.
lily reached out for the phone, grabbing it from you and holding it comedically close to her face. “oh okay i guess its her phone now” you joke, smiling at her. “hi h-hi daddy!” she seemed as if she wanted to reach out to him through the phone. lando giggled at just the pure sound of her voice.
“hi there princess, did you watch daddy race today?” he asks. she doesnt say anything back she just nods her head. “i-i miss you” her little voice and her pleading words made your bottom lip stick out in a pout. “aw you do? well daddy will be home soon okay darling?” lily nodded, turning her attention back to her toys and dropping the phone on the ground.
you grab the phone, standing up and walking down the hallway to the bathroom. “well i guess she didnt want to talk to me anymore” he jokes before pausing to take notice of your face. the lines around your eyes and your nose turned pink and eyes watery. “whats wrong baby?” he plead. “i dont know” you shrugged, laughing at yourself for getting teary eyed. “for some reason the way she said she missed you pulled at my heart strings a little bit” you smile.
“i know mine too a little bit, made me feel a little choked up” he smiled. “we do really miss you over here though” you got somewhat serious with your statement. “i know honey and you know i’d be on a plane to you right now if i could but my body desperately needs a break”
you nodded, you knew he was right. it wasnt gonna be like this forever but for the small amount of time that it is, it sucks. “i know baby, and its okay, you know i want you to prioritize yourself right now” you smile, at him. “okay, ill let you get to bed soon, kiss lily for me too okay?” you nodded, sniffling and wiping your face. the two of you exchanged virtual kisses before hanging up, allowing you to get ready for bed.
the next morning was the same as all of them, morning shower, then making and eating breakfast and then cleaning up. lily had just gotten cleaned up and you left her in the living room watching tv so you could brush your teeth. you stood for a minute, looking at yourself in the mirror poking at all of your insecurities you’ve had your whole life.
suddenly you heard lily yell “daddy!” you assumed maybe lando had called you and she got to the phone. “lily honey is daddy on the phone?” you called out walking down the hallway. there was silence, no talking from lily just complete silence. “lily?” you called out again.
you stopped in your tracks when you reached the living room, there stood lando in the doorway, holding lily tightly in his arms as she giggled. “oh my god!” you smiled, lost for words as you ran up to him throwing your arms around his neck. “hi baby” he laughed at the sheer force in which you threw your body at him with. his free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you at the small of your back.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, placing both hands on each side of his face. “well obviously i needed to see my two pretty girls” he smiles, smothering lily with kisses, making her burst into a fit of giggles, slowly sitting her back down.
the both of you watched as she quickly ran back over to toys. you turned your attention back to eachother as you connected your lips, which was the first time in a week but felt like years. “no really why are you here? you need rest and you what, get on plane and choose to lose sleep?” you mutter.
he shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you, “i meant what i said, i wanted to see the two of you, plus i’ll get my sleep eventually.” you felt emotional again, you always felt emotions stronger when it came to lando for some reason, you just couldnt understand how you had gotten so lucky to be with him.
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(author’s notes:) i had to rewrite this twice bc tumblr kept deleting it but how do we feel about girl dad lando BE HONEST!!! thank you for reading & don’t forget to join my taglist !!
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Text
If It All Fell
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??
a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3
Part 2 ♡
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.
Gods, your head hurt. 
A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 
“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”
You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 
You took a pause. 
And then another. 
Who was the last person you had seen? 
“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 
The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 
“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 
“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 
“Witches?” 
“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 
The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 
Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 
Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 
You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 
“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 
Another lapse in silence. 
“My Gods…” 
Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 
But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 
You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.
“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 
“Azriel, she—” 
“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 
There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 
You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 
You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 
“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 
Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 
Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 
Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  
“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 
His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.
That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 
The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 
Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 
It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 
Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 
When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 
“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 
It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 
But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 
Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 
You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 
“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 
Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.
The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 
“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 
“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 
A twig snapped beneath a boot.
Azriel growled low in his chest. 
The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 
You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 
“Stay away from her.” 
“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 
A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 
Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 
Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.
Part 2 ♡
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ghostlywhiskey · 9 months
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“oh, come on,” your mother pleads on the other end of the phone. the majority of the phone call thus far revolving around the fact you broke the news about seeing someone new. and in motherly fashion, she immediately started asking away about his name, age, occupation, and everything in between. but of course, the main question and request she had was: can you send me pictures?
“mom,” you sigh as you move around your apartment with her on speaker as you tidy up. “you’ll meet him when i bring him for dinner this weekend.”
it wasn’t that you had a lack of photos or anything, but you knew your mother better than anyone else. the second you send those photos, it would be sent to family members, the neighbors that knew you since birth, and her close friends.
“please?” she begged again, which immediately caused you to accept defeat. you'd never hear the end of it.
quickly selecting two photos from your camera roll, you sent them over to her and quietly mumbled that she should have gotten them.
“oh, sweetheart,” it was practically a squeal from her end, the sound of her typing catching your attention as well. those photos were about to be shared with nearly everyone she knew. “he’s so handsome. how old did you say he was again?”
sighing quietly and away from your phone to avoid her hearing, you politely figure a way to end the call. “i love you, but i have to go. promise you can ask all the questions you want when we come for dinner.” when the words leave your mouth, you realize you’ll regret them when dinner actually happens.
and its later that night when your phone rings, your body sat on price’s lap. his hands reach to hold your head in place to prevent you from pulling away, mumbling to let it just go to voicemail. tugging your head away, you pull from the kiss and see 'aunt rebecca' lighting up your phone screen; your finger quickly presses the accept call button as you sit upright on price's lap.
"hi aunt becca," you speak into the phone, eyes glancing up at the ceiling briefly before looking back down at price. his hands resting on your thighs to give them a gentle squeeze before moving them up and down soothingly while you take the call.
"your mother told me about your new boyfriend!" her exclaim blaring through the phone speaker, and you can't help but press a hand to your forehead and drag it down.
"did she? i'm assuming she sent you photos too."
"darling, you better hold onto that one," she cooed, her excitement for your new relationship evident and praise loud enough for price to hear. a grin forming on his face indicating he can hear aunt becca's end of the call.
"photos?" price mouths up at you, hands giving your thighs another squeeze, but this time slightly higher up which causes you to squirm on his lap. your free hand reaches to gently swat at one of his hands, embarrassment running through your body. the poor man was the talk of your hometown thanks to your mom and he didn't even know.
"mhm," you hummed in response to your aunt, a forced chuckle vibrating your upper body. "i plan on it, aunt becca. listen, i'm a bit bus-"
"oh, he's right there, isn't he? i understand. i'll leave you two to be. tell him i said hello and i can't wait to meet him," she cheerily spoke, her goodbye quick and giving you no time to respond as the line went dead.
"so, photos?" this time, price spoke out loud and the grin still present on his face.
"shut up," you huffed, leaning back down and placing the phone on the nightstand before grabbing his face. lips quickly silencing him and anymore questions he might have.
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anatay004 · 9 months
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THERE WAS A TANG of venom in your mouth. You could taste it, the bitter crimson that seeped through your teeth as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. You tried to keep your head from aching, perhaps, if you shut your eyelids for a moment — just for a second, you thought you might actually escape him.
"Ms. (Y/N), how wonderful it is to see you again," Snow spoke from across the desk, his voice was quiet but vehement— it almost made you shiver. "Please, take a seat."
Nauseously, you sat across from him.
The study ensued with a straining silence that made the skin of your arms prick with uneasiness. Snow had bothered to travel across the districts to visit your home; it could only mean one of two things: either you were in trouble or he wanted something from you.
"I won't take much of your time, Ms. (Y/L), as long as we agree to not lie to each other, this will be a short conversation, I can assure you."
I'm definitely in trouble, you thought.
"Of course." You managed to answer.
Up close, you could see the lines of evident age that marred his face. How long, you wondered, until time peels the skin off his bones clean?
"Katniss Everdeen," Snow venomously spat, and you couldn't help, but give him your full attention. "Do you recall the name?"
The new Victor from District 12.
The threat of rebellion.
"I do." You limited yourself to answer.
"Good," Snow breathed out. "You see, she is causing me quite a few problems. None of which are tethered to you, of course, but they eventually will. Unlike you, Ms. (Y/N), she dismisses the cause of the Hunger Games, the mercy that we offer by keeping one of the 24 tributes alive. She's challenging, I’m afraid."
Unlike you.
You wanted to dart him a glare; his words were a backhanded compliment. When you killed your partner in the games — your friend, you involuntarily enlightened a sense of honor in the Capitol. Your disoriented conscious due to the venom of one of the jellyfish in the arena eulogized Snow's message: there are no real allies and no true loyalty between the districts.
This was far from the truth, of course.
You never meant to win the games by killing your ally from the same district. When the dam's collapsed and the waves of water drowned almost everyone in the arena, you'd managed to swim back to the surface. But the lack of oxygen and poison from the jellyfishes had already interfered with your sanity. And when he'd rushed to help you back to your feet, you'd confused him for a Career. It was only a matter of minutes before the cannon boomed.
Your eyes glossed at the memory.
"With that being said, she, alongside Peeta Mellark, will try to seek refugee in their act of love to gain sponsors and win the games again.”
Your eyebrows knitted together.
Again?
"I want you to dissipate that advantage, Ms. (Y/M)." He must have read your expression. "I want you and Finnick Odair to annihilate their strategy by doing exactly the same thing."
You blinked in sudden disbelief.
He wanted you back in the Hunger Games. He wanted you back with Finnick Odair, with the only person he probably knew you cared the most about. You tried to quench the searing pain that was burning inside your chest. The air started to rush out your lungs, but you managed to compose yourself in time as Snow tilted his head to the side to examine you quietly.
"There's nothing between – " You tried to come up with an excuse, with anything that could've eliminated Finnick from this plan, but he raised an eyebrow in silent question and the words froze immediately on the tip of your tongue.
"We agreed to not lie, Ms. (Y/M)."
You pressed your lips together. "Right."
He stifled a faint grin. "You are the Capitol's favorites, the most beloved Victors. Even more than Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."
You didn't know what to answer. His plan was already arranged, there was nothing you could say that could make him change his mind. If anything, he was merely being considerate by taking the trouble of giving you a heads-up.
"Finnick and I haven't spoken in weeks." You breathed out, which wasn't a lie. After years of breaking up and getting back together, the romance eventually ended when you discovered the sexual arrangements that had happened behind your back for years. When Finnick had decided to finally shut you out his life after he’d explained his backstory and decided you were not good together.
The slight curve of Snow's lips indicated that he knew this already — of course, he did.
"I know," Snow confessed. "but the people from the Capital don't, Ms. (Y/N). Therefore, you have an advantage at hand, you can fool everyone, make the Capital forget about the lovers from District 12, and...you will have my protection."
You looked up then and examined his face very carefully. There wasn't a hint of deception in his expression, he was being honest and that scared you the most. He promised your safety; he promised your victory.
"What about Finnick?" You found yourself asking, without even thinking.
He smiled. "You see, you almost got me fooled, Ms. (Y/LN). Imagine just how easy it would be to fool the Capitol if you could just step forward.”
You swallowed hard.
"But to answer your question, Ms. (Y/L), Mr. Odair will be protected if he succeeds in convincing me. And, who knows, if you achieve to sell your romance act, the Capitol might even advocate for two winners again. Wouldn't that be lovely?"
He was lying.
He had to be.
Hope retaliated in the pit of your stomach. "I thought we had agreed to not lie to each other."
His eyebrows jumped. "So did I."
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After the conversation ended, President Snow stepped out of your home without another word as a fugitive car approached your home. Within a few minutes, he swiftly disappeared into the leather backseat and the vehicle drove off.
You tried to keep your head from reeling, but your muscles momentarily numbed as you simply stood outside, inhaling the ocean's breath. You couldn't coherent a single sentence, for a moment, you even struggled to pinpoint whether the conversation with Snow had been real or not.
What would Finnick think?
What would anyone think?
You exhaled sharply, but before you could collect yourself, Finnick's frame stumbled into your line of vision from across the Victor's Village. You faltered on your spot almost immediately, muscles wracked with evident tension — and he must've noticed, because trepidation soon glossed over his green irises.
As if he'd suddenly realized who had visited you.
"(Y/N)!" He began to call.
Instinctively, you began to retrace back your steps inside your house (in hopes to avoid him), but he was faster and twisted the polished handle before the door could even shut close behind you. You jumped in shock, a startled expression donned on your face as he invited himself in. "What happened?"
Your mouth went dry. "I..."
"— Did he hurt you?" His voice went up a few decibels, and you struggled to find the strength to open your mouth. "(Y/L), did he hurt you?"
You managed to shake your head. "No, he..."
Finnick reached for your arm. His muscles were tense, but his touch was gentle and you instinctively leaned in. "He's going to reaped us into the games, he wants us to follow the love act that Katniss and Peeta pulled."
His eyebrows knitted together in thought. "What?" He breathed out, trying to decipher the mixture of emotions that flitted across your face in a matter of seconds. Every sentiment that threatened to register on your face before Snow was finally shattering before Finnick.
"He wants to kill them off," You found yourself repeating, a hint of desperation notched down the timbre of your voice. "He wants us to take their sponsors, but he said he would protect us, Finnick. He promised he would and I – "
A sob strangled your throat, for a split second, you couldn't manage another word. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to the side of your head. You immediately indulged in his warmth and your senses immediately heighten at the whiff of his scent. Belatedly, you realized it had been a while since he’d last embraced you. And it wasn't until he was rubbing your back and whispering that everything was going to be okay when you finally noticed that you were trembling.
"It's going to be okay, love." He whispered.
Love.
And then it finally clicked.
What he’d done to you.
You wrenched away from him as though his skin had suddenly torched you. You took several steps back as you tried to muffle the sob that was ripping through your lips. Finnick faltered for a second as he tried to find the right words to remedy the hurt that you felt, but when he noticed the familiar betrayal in your gaze — he pressed his lips into a thin line.
He didn't know what to say anymore.
"I need to get some sleep."
"Sweetheart, wait — "
"Goodnight, Finnick."
And with that, you turned your back to him.
2K notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 2 months
Note
Yay! Your requests are open!
So, Eddie and Reader have just gotten together, and they're riding high, honeymoon phase.
Then Steve opens his big mouth and admits he slept with Reader before he got together with Nancy, so it was a long time ago and just a drunken hook up, but he jokes that Reader seemed to have the time of her life and "you have some to live up to Eddie!"
So then Eddie decides (typical guy) that he's going to uppe Steve and asks how many times Steve made Reader cum and she says "three times - two times during foreplay and once during the sex" and Eddie says "Then be ready for at least four times, baby," and I leave up to you what he does but smut ensues
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️smut, rough sex, more smut
3? Give me 4
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Eddie already knew he was a jealous person. He'd been jealous of people and things ever since he was young. He was jealous of the kids with new shoes and clean clothes. He was jealous of their toys and homes. Even as he got older he was jealous of how school seemed to be to people. He was jealous of the popular kids and their ride to college based on scholarships.
Then he got someone that other people would be jealous of. His beauty of a girl, Y/N. She was gorgeous and everyone knew that. For once Eddie didn't have to deal with jealousy, he caused it for others.
He and Y/N went at it teens in a horror film. It didn't matter where they were, they'd find somewhere to get busy. The relationship was fresh, so it was all love and lust. Two things Eddie loved that went together.
"I'm going to run to the bathroom," Y/N said, leaning over to peck Eddie's cheek. He watched in awe as she got up and walked off, his eyes didn't leave her until Steve spoke up.
"You're like a puppy dog for her, dude." Steve laughed, shoving a handful of fries in his mouth. Eddie turned to look at him, cringing as small amounts of fries spilled out of Steve's mouth.
"You'd understand if you were with her." Eddie snickered, taking a messy bite of his burger.
"I have been," Steve shrugged, not understanding the weight of his words. He was oblivious to the death stare Eddie gave him. "We hooked up way before I got with Nancy. We were drunk, and found each other."
"Excuse me?" Eddie glared, he could feel that burning jealousy enter his body again.
"Oh yeah, from what I can remember the girl had the time of her life. Looks like you have some to live up to, Eddie." Steve joked, reaching across the table to give Eddie a small punch in the shoulder.
Steve Harrington fucked his girlfriend, how the hell could he compete with that?
"Everything okay?" Y/N asked as she sat next to Eddie. She could feel how intense the tension was.
"Yes, these fries are delicious," Steve said, no idea of the tension.
"Eddie?" Y/N whispered as she squeezed his thigh
"Good" he choked out, but his mind was already spinning.
~
Y/N could sense something was wrong with Eddie as they silently drove to his trailer.
"Eddie, can you tell me what is wrong?" Y/N asked for another time, sighing as they walked into the empty and dark trailer.
Eddie flicked on the light and shrugged out of his jacket. Y/N tried not to stare as his toned arms came into view and the ink of his tattoos.
"You fucked King Steve?" Eddie snapped, his question barely was a question.
Y/N sighed and rubbed her face. Steve was an idiot.
"Eddie that was ages ago. Way before we even knew each other. Steve and I are just friends." She explained, she walked closer to him. When he didn't move she took it as a green light. She hooked her arms around his neck and placed her forehead on his. "Trust me, you make me feel way better than he ever did."
"How many times did King Steve make you cum?"
Y/N felt her breath get caught in her throat. Eddie's eyes were clouded with lust, making his eyes almost black. His voice was challenging Steve, and it made her thighs clench.
Eddie didn't appreciate her silence, his right hand roughly tugged her hair. She gasped as her head was yanked back, Eddie's hot breath fanning her neck.
"I asked," He started, his teeth lightly nipping at her skin, "you a question, baby." She tried to think of words, but she was so turned on that all she could think about was Eddie's pulsing cock being drilled into her.
"Three times," Y/N moaned, Eddie's mouth sucking harshly on her skin, "two-two times during foreplay," she shivered as Eddie's left hand trailed down her body. "And once during sex."
Eddie dropped his hand from her hair, moving both his hands to land on the back of her thighs. She squealed as he picked her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He placed her on the counter, smirking as he stood between her legs. He reached forward and rubbed her bottom lip.
"Then be ready for at least four times, baby," Eddie whispered.
Y/N went to clench her thighs again but squeezed Eddie since he stood between her legs.
"Oh? Is this turning you on?" he teased, his thumb yanked down her bottom lip. Watched as it snapped back into place, moving his hands down to her thighs.
"Touch me, please." She begged
She shivered as Eddie laughed, he leaned in so he was nose to nose. His lips were inches from hers as she stared with her mouth open.
"Don't worry, I'll touch you. I'll touch you everywhere until you are shaking and crying for my cock. Make that pretty pussy so desperate to be filled. Then I'm going to fuck you like a whore." Eddie's voice was dark and deep as he stepped back and tore off his shirt.
Y/N felt like she never had a chance to catch her breath. From his words, his hands, and now his naked chest. She reached forward, impatiently touching his skin as she trailed her nails from his chest to his stomach. She was locked on his belt, working fast as she tugged the leather through the loops and threw it to the floor.
She froze as Eddie's hands gripped her hands, quick to slam them against the wall above her head. She tugged but his grip was too tight.
"Eddie please," she whined
Eddie let her hands go, but his eyes told her not to move. He unbuttoned her jeans, lifting up her hips as he yanked down her pants. He tossed them to the floor, then his fingers teased her underwear band. She shivered as he ran in fingers back and forth, her stomach moving fast as she panted.
She sighed in relief when he got rid of her underwear, her cunt bare and on display. She watched with heavy eyes as he dropped to his knees, his eyes level with her wet cunt.
"Even more gorgeous than last time," he whispered, taking his time to lean in. Inhaling her sweet scent. "Smell so addicting"
She moaned as she realized he was talking to her cunt itself.
"Yes," she moaned and threw her head back against the wall when Eddie's tongue ran through her folds. "Fuck that's it" Her hands moved to his hair.
He loved it when she tugged at his curls so he allowed the movement. He was determined to fuck out her brains. He flattened his tongue and ran it up and down her cunt.
"More baby, please," Y/N begged
Eddie smirked against her cunt, loving how desperate she was for him. He pushed two fingers inside of her, moaning as they got soaked immediately. He slipped his fingers in and out, her cunt clenching around him as his mouth began to suck on her clit.
She purred as she clawed at his hair. The sight alone of her sexy boyfriend in between her thighs made her shake. Eddie had nothing to be jealous of, but she'd play along if he continued to fuck her the way he was.
His mouth was brutal on her clit, sucking and biting. And his fingers moved at a rapid pace, he slipped in a third finger.
"Love feeling those rings inside of me," She moaned out. The sound of her tired voice and comment made Eddie's cock pulse. He used his free hand to add a little pressure on his jeans.
Eddie kept his fingers moving inside of her but pulled away his mouth. "Yeah? I bet pretty boy didn't wear rings and couldn't finger you this deep."
Y/N couldn't respond, all she could give was broken moans as she felt a build-up. She could hear how wet she was as Eddie's fingers moved in and out of her.
"I know that look, you ready to cum huh?" Eddie smirked, moving forward to suck harshly on her clit. He moaned as she gripped his hair even tighter, he found pleasure in the burning of his roots.
She let out a loud pornographic moan as her thighs clenched around his head. He kept sucking, not letting up as he felt her thighs shake around his head. Adding to the orgasm he slipped a fourth finger in, stretching her open.
"GOD" she screamed as she soaked his fingers. She moved her hips against his fingers and tongue as she shook from the aftermath of her orgasm. She rode it out until the feeling settled down.
Eddie softly kissed her clit, slipping out his fingers. He pressed kisses to her thighs before standing back up.
"Open" he demanded, but she was so fucked out she didn't hear a thing. Her head hung forward and her body still shook.
Eddie clenched his jaw and used his clean hand to grip her neck, forcing her head up. Her eyes were wide with lust as she looked at him. She loved when Eddie manhandled her, the way he forced her body to do what he wanted.
She opened her mouth, and Eddie smiled.
"Good girl," he cooed, then roughly shoved his wet fingers in her mouth. She gagged at first, his long fingers hitting her throat. She regained herself and started to suck his fingers clean. Once Eddie was satisfied he pulled his fingers out.
"I want you naked and on my bed, now," Eddie growled
Y/N slipped off the counter, her legs wobbly as she landed on her feet. She walked the best she could, Eddie landed a slap on her bare ass making her jump.
Eddie grabbed their clothes, not wanting Wayne to find them. He threw them in a ball in his bedroom as he walked in. Y/N flat on the bed as she looked at him.
She stared as he kicked off his pants, and then slipped off his boxers. She whimpered as his hard, red, and thick cock came into view. No matter how many times she had seen Eddie naked and in all his glory, he always took her breath away.
Eddie soaked in her attention, slightly blushing at the way she drooled over his cock. He smirked proudly as he walked forward, her eyes watched as he walked past her grabbing the handcuffs from his wall.
She sat silent as he grabbed her wrist, giving it a soft kiss before he cuffed her to the bed, Then he reached over and did her other wrist. He stepped back, hand on his cock as he softly rubbed himself as he looked at her. She was cuffed to his bed, all at his mercy.
Eddie crawled on the bed, enjoying the way her breathing picked up with excitement.
"You want more, huh?" Eddie asked, his hands rubbed the inside of her thighs, and she spread them open. He smiled at how obedient she was.
"You want this?" He asked, smacking his cock against her inner thigh
"Yes, please," she begged, the heat of his cock against her thigh making her brain fuzzy. She was so captivated by him and everything he did.
Eddie smiled at her manners. He placed his cock inside his folds, his cock flat against her clit. She whined in protest as he began to rub his cock against her, but not inside of her.
He rubbed himself against her, sighing at the relief. He loved watching his cock rub between her folds, she fit perfectly around him.
"Eddie, please," she whimpered
Eddie leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Y/N moaned as she kissed him back. His right hand cupped her cheek, kissing her hard and deep as his cock rubbed against her.
He pulled back but kept his lips close to hers.
"One more before you get my cock in you, pretty girl."
Y/N cried against his lips but accepted it. She pressed her lips against his, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He hummed as she explored his mouth, loving the way she took some control.
The lazy make-out and the feeling of his cock rubbing against her clit had her stomach building again. Her hands yanked on the cuffs, craving to touch his skin. Eddie kept his tongue in her mouth as he reached down, he removed his cock and replaced it with his hand.
Ruthlessly rubbing her clit as she spazzed under him. He could hear the clink of the cuffs, and feel her body squirming. He pulled away from the kiss, a look in his eye that told her she better cum.
She arched her back as her second orgasm washed over her, stronger than the first.
Eddie was gentle as he rubbed her through it, waiting until she fell flat against the bed. He kissed up her arms, praising her.
He unhooked the cuffs, and her touch was on him in seconds. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she gripped him. Eddie gave her lips a few soft kisses, giving time for her body to relax.
Once she got her breath, it was ripped out of her lungs. Eddie pushed his cock fully inside of her, her walls tight around him as she choked out a cry.
"God you always feel so good," Eddie moaned, "nothing I love more than being inside you." His husky voice made Y/N claw at his shoulders. Why did everything this boy did turn her on?
She gasped as he fucked her hard, the bedframe smacking the wall as he puffed through his clenched teeth. He eyed her chest, loving the way her breasts moved with his thrusts.
"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Eddie asked, his left hand wrapped around her neck. She gasped as her breath was caught. His right hand gripped the headboard.
"Y-yours" she choked out through his grip. Her body was on fire and she could feel her skin glistened in sweat.
"Louder" he demanded, his cock hit the right spot. She cried out and he knew he hit the spot. He continued to hit that spot, angeling his hips.
"Yours," she said louder, his grip loosened and she took that time to refill her lungs. "All yours" she cried, tears in her eyes when his fingers touched her clit. Her clit burned, felt raw as he rubbed it with no mercy.
Eddie kept seeing that stupid look on Steve's face, pushing him to fuck her harder. He wasn't sure how much more his wall could take as the headboard began to chip away at the paint.
"That's it, baby. Squeeze me just like that" Eddie shivered as her pussy squeezed around him. She did a few times, each time pushing him further to exploding.
"Eddieeeee" she whined, her voice cracking as she choked on her sobs. She slapped his shoulder, trying to signal.
"You want to cum? Hm? Gonna be a whore and cum all over my cock?" He asked, his breath was hot as his words smacked her face. The smell of weed, sweat, and sex filled the room. She couldn't answer, just nodded as she felt her stomach snap.
Eddie hissed as her nails drew blood as she came. She clenched him so tight that he could barely move, he rubbed her clit to work her through it.
Y/N felt her body loosen, leaving Eddie's cock free to move. She thought he would slip out and give her a mini break in between, but she was wrong. The second Eddie's cock was free, he was pounding into her all over again.
"EDDIE I CAN'T" she cried, but no movement to push him away. Her cunt was used and abused. Begging for a break, but continued to welcome Eddie in.
"Yes, you can, just one more." He said through his teeth. Sweat was building under his bangs as he felt his own orgasm approaching. He slipped out of her for a second, flipping her on her stomach.
Her body was jelly as he gripped her hips and shoved her ass in the air. Her face was down against the sheets, screaming when his cock slammed back into her.
Eddie growled at the new sight, slapping down on her ass as he fucked her. He moaned with delight as her ass jiggled and turned red. He reached his arms forward, yanking her body up flat against his.
Her back arched as he pounded inside of her, his hands playing with her breasts. Gripping and tugging.
"Close, baby girl" Eddie warned, puffing as his balls smacked against her skin. He gripped her breasts as he felt his stomach getting ready to snap.
"Cum in me, make me yours. Fill me up, Eddie. Fill my whore pussy," she said, her dirty words affecting Eddie immediately as he emptied himself inside of her.
From the first three orgasms, Y/N's body was done. She had no control over what she felt. She didn't even know she needed to cum again until she felt herself squirting.
"FUCK FUCK FUCK" she screamed, her hips bucking forward, this caught Eddie's attention. He looked over her shoulder, watching as her squirt covered his pillows.
"Oh that's hot" he moaned, his hand instantly rubbing her clit. Making her squirt harder. He didn't mind the mess, he loved how much she covered his pillows. He gave a few sloppy thrusts, pushing his cum further inside of her.
"Done," she said, barely speaking as her voice was dead. She tapped Eddie's arm.
"Such a good girl, you did so good for me." He praised, slowly removing himself. He gently moved her body down away from the stained pillows, laying her on her back as her eyes drifted close.
"Love you," she mumbled. Eddie chuckled and pecked her lips.
"I love you," he said, he kissed every inch of her skin. Her breathing got deeper as she fell asleep.
Eddie slipped on clean boxers and began to clean her up. He couldn't help but stare as he covered her with a blanket. He had no idea how he got that lucky to be with her. And for her to be so in love with him.
Eddie took another look at his stained pillows, removing the cases so he could wash them. He smirked as he held them in his hands, wait until Steve heard about this.
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748 notes · View notes
kiesbrainjuice · 2 months
Text
— ITS VOLLEYBALL OR ME ! tobio kageyama
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➥ syn : too obsessed with volleyball make you nearly loose your wife!
➥ wc : 3.5k
➥ tw : angst to fluff, heated argument, reader cry a lot, comfort
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As I sat alone in our quiet apartment, I couldn't help but reflect on the life I shared with my husband, Tobio Kageyama. We'd been married for three years now, and while I loved him deeply, his obsession with volleyball was starting to take its toll on our relationship.
Tobio had always been passionate about the sport, even back in high school when we first met. I found his dedication admirable then, and it was one of the things that drew me to him. But now, as a professional player, his commitment had reached new heights – often at the expense of our time together.
Our days followed a predictable pattern. Tobio would wake up at dawn, go for a run, then head to practice. He'd return home late in the evening, exhausted but still buzzing with energy as he analyzed his performance or watched recordings of matches. Even during meals, his mind was on the court, discussing strategies or areas he wanted to improve.
At first, I tried to involve myself in his world. I attended his matches, learned the intricacies of the game, and even attempted to play a bit myself. But as time went on, I found myself feeling more and more like a spectator in my own marriage.
The loneliness crept in slowly. Weekends that should have been ours were filled with extra training sessions or team-building exercises. Holidays were planned around his tournament schedule. Even on the rare occasions when we did have time together, Tobio's thoughts were often elsewhere, replaying moments from recent games or strategizing for upcoming ones.
I'd tried talking to him about it, of course. Tobio would always apologize, promise to do better, to make more time for us. And for a while, things would improve. But inevitably, the siren call of the volleyball court would draw him back, leaving me alone once again.
Tonight was supposed to be different. We had plans – actual plans – for a date night. Dinner at the new restaurant downtown, followed by a walk in the park. It wasn't much, but I had been looking forward to it all week. A chance to reconnect, to remember why we fell in love in the first place.
But as the hours ticked by and Tobio didn't show up, I felt the familiar ache of disappointment settling in my chest. I knew, without having to call or text, exactly where he was. The gym. Always the gym.
As I sat there, dressed up with nowhere to go, I couldn't help but wonder: was this what the rest of my life would look like? Always coming second to a sport? Always waiting for a man who was more committed to his team than to his wife?
The anger began to build, a slow simmer that gradually rose to a boil. I'd had enough. It was time to go home and have a serious conversation with my husband – whenever he decided to show up.
I stormed into our apartment, tears streaming down my face. The silence that greeted me only fueled my anger and hurt. I slammed the door behind me, not caring about the noise.
With shaking hands, I unzipped my dress - the one I'd carefully chosen for our date - and let it fall to the floor. I didn't bother hanging it up, instead leaving it in a crumpled heap as I made my way to the bathroom.
The hot water of the shower mingled with my tears. I stood there, letting it wash over me, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside. Disappointment, frustration, loneliness - they all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm me.
After what felt like hours, I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another night alone.
But as I walked into the kitchen, I froze. There was Tobio, still in his practice clothes, sweat glistening on his forehead. He was rummaging through the fridge, completely oblivious to the turmoil he'd caused.
"Oh, you're home," he said, glancing up at me with a casual smile. "Practice ran late. Did you eat yet?"
I stared at him, my jaw clenched. The familiar rage bubbled up inside me, but this time, I pushed it down. Instead, I felt a cold detachment settling over me.
"No," I replied, my voice flat. "I haven't eaten."
Tobio raised an eyebrow at my tone but didn't seem to pick up on the tension. "Great, I'm starving. Want to order in?"
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Whatever you want."
He paused, finally seeming to notice something was off. "Are you okay?"
I didn't answer, simply turning away to head to the bedroom. "I'm tired. Order what you like."
As I walked away, I could feel his confused gaze on my back. But for once, I didn't care about explaining or smoothing things over. Let him wonder. Let him figure it out for himself.
I closed the bedroom door behind me, leaving Tobio alone in the kitchen. The wall of silence between us felt impenetrable, and for the first time, I wasn't sure I wanted to break it down.
I slipped into my pajamas mechanically, my movements slow and deliberate. The soft fabric offered little comfort as I climbed into bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin and turning to face the wall. I could hear Tobio moving around in the kitchen, the familiar sounds of his evening routine doing nothing to soothe the ache in my chest.
Minutes later, I heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. The door creaked open, and I felt the bed dip as he settled in beside me. His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. His breath was warm against my neck as he nuzzled into me.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seem upset."
For a moment, I said nothing, my body rigid in his embrace. Then, something inside me snapped. I took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke, my voice eerily calm despite the storm raging within.
"No, Tobio. Everything is not okay." I didn't turn to face him, keeping my gaze fixed on the wall. "Do you know where I was tonight?"
I felt him tense behind me. "What do you mean?"
"I was at Ristorante Bella. Sitting at a table for two, all alone." My voice remained steady, but each word was laced with hurt. "I waited for you for two hours, Tobio. Two hours of watching other couples enjoy their meals, of pitying glances from the waitstaff, of making excuses for why my husband wasn't there."
I paused, letting the words sink in. "We had plans tonight. Plans we made a week ago. But once again, volleyball took priority."
Tobio's arm loosened around me. "I... I forgot. Practice ran late, and I-"
"You didn't even text," I interrupted, finally rolling over to face him. In the dim light, I could see the shock and guilt etched across his features. "You didn't call. You just... forgot about me. About us."
I watched as realization dawned on his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to touch my cheek. "I didn't mean to-"
I pulled away from his touch. "That's the problem, Tobio. You never mean to. But it keeps happening. Over and over again." I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep coming second to volleyball."
Tobio sat up, running a hand through his hair. "What are you saying?"
I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm saying that something needs to change. Because right now, I feel like I'm losing you... and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on."
The silence that fell between us was heavy with unspoken words and uncertain futures. As I turned away from him once more, I wondered if this would be the wake-up call we needed, or if it was the beginning of the end.
I couldn't stand lying there anymore, the tension thick in the air. I abruptly sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up.
"Where are you going?" Tobio asked, his voice tinged with confusion and worry.
"I can't do this here," I said, walking out of the bedroom. I heard him scramble to follow me.
In the living room, I whirled to face him. "Do you have any idea how it feels, Tobio? To constantly be an afterthought in your own marriage?"
His face contorted with guilt. "You're not an afterthought. I just got caught up in practice-"
"It's always practice!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Or a game, or watching tapes, or team bonding. When was the last time we had a real conversation that didn't revolve around volleyball?"
Tobio ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "Volleyball is my career. You knew that when you married me."
"I married a man, not a sport!" I shot back. "I love that you're passionate about volleyball, Tobio. I really do. But sometimes it's just... it's too much."
My voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly the tears I'd been holding back spilled over. "Do you know how many nights I spend alone in this apartment? How many dinners I eat by myself? How many times I've had to make excuses to our friends about why you couldn't make it to their events?"
Tobio took a step towards me, his hand outstretched, but I backed away. "I'm trying to support your dreams, but I feel like I'm disappearing. Like I'm fading away, and you don't even notice."
My next words came out as a choked whisper, "Do you even still love me, Tobio? Or am I just... convenient? Someone to come home to when volleyball is done with you for the day?"
Tobio's eyes widened in shock. "Of course I love you! How can you even ask that?"
"Because I don't feel it!" I cried, the dam finally breaking. "I don't feel loved when you forget our plans. I don't feel loved when you'd rather stay late at practice than spend time with me. I don't feel loved when I'm always, always second to volleyball."
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small. "I'm tired, Tobio. I'm so tired of competing with a sport for my husband's attention. And I don't know how much longer I can do this."
The silence that followed was deafening. We stood there, meters apart but feeling like miles, as the weight of my words hung in the air between us.
Tobio's face contorted, a mix of hurt and anger flashing in his eyes. "You think I don't care about you? Everything I do, all the practice, all the games - it's for us! For our future!"
"Our future?" I scoffed, my voice rising. "What future, Tobio? The one where I'm always alone, always waiting for you to remember I exist?"
He took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "That's not fair! You knew how important volleyball was to me when we got married. You can't just decide now that it's too much!"
"I'm not asking you to quit!" I shouted back, my frustration boiling over. "I'm asking you to remember that you have a wife, that you have a life outside of that gym!"
Tobio ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. "You don't understand. This is my dream, my passion-"
"And what about my dreams?" I interjected, my voice cracking. "What about my passion for having a real marriage, a real partnership?"
He threw his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want from me? To give up everything I've worked for?"
"I want you to care!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "I want you to show up when we have plans! I want you to text me when you're going to be late! Is that really too much to ask?"
Tobio's jaw clenched. "You're being selfish. You knew what you were getting into-"
"Selfish?" I repeated, incredulous. "Selfish is forgetting your wife exists the moment you step onto that court. Selfish is making me feel like I don't matter in my own marriage!"
We stood there, chests heaving, glaring at each other. The silence was deafening, filled with all the hurt and resentment that had been building for months.
"Maybe..." Tobio started, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe you just don't understand what it takes to be the best. Maybe you never will."
His words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. "Maybe I don't," I whispered, my anger suddenly deflating into a bone-deep weariness. "And maybe that's the problem."
I turned away, unable to look at him anymore. "I can't do this right now. I need... I need some space."
Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, leaving Tobio standing alone in the middle of our living room.
Days had passed since our explosive argument. I'd retreated to our second apartment, a small place we kept for when either of us needed space. The solitude had given me time to think, to process my emotions, and to consider our future.
I was in the kitchen, absently stirring a pot of pasta, when the doorbell rang. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I made my way to the door, wondering who it could be.
As I opened it, my breath caught in my throat. There stood Tobio, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him. His eyes were red and puffy, clear evidence that he'd been crying. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of my favorite flowers.
Before I could ask why he wasn't at practice, Tobio spoke, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Those two words, filled with such raw emotion, made my heart clench. I stepped back wordlessly, allowing him to enter.
Tobio shuffled in, his usual confident posture replaced by a slump of defeat. He placed the flowers on the nearby table and turned to face me, his eyes filled with guilt and remorse.
"I've been an idiot," he began, his voice shaky. "These past few days... they've been hell. I couldn't focus on practice, couldn't sleep. All I could think about was how much I've hurt you."
I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. "Tobio..."
He held up a hand, asking me to let him continue. "You were right. About everything. I've been so caught up in volleyball that I forgot what's truly important. You. Us."
Tobio took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "I love you. More than volleyball, more than anything. And I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much I've been neglecting you."
Tears welled up in my eyes as he continued. "I've talked to my coach. I'm cutting back on extra practices. I'm going to be home more, be present more. I want to be the husband you deserve."
He reached out, gently taking my hands in his. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. But I can promise that from now on, you'll always come first. No more forgotten dates, no more nights alone. I want to make this work. I need to make this work."
The sincerity in his voice, the pain in his eyes - it was all too much. I felt my resolve crumbling as tears spilled down my cheeks.
"Oh, Tobio," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. I could feel his heart racing, matching the rapid beat of my own.
"I love you," he murmured into my hair. "Please, give me another chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me."
I pulled back slightly, looking up into his face. The Tobio I saw there wasn't the volleyball-obsessed athlete, but the man I fell in love with - vulnerable, caring, and completely devoted.
"Okay," I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. "We'll try again. Together."
Tobio's face lit up with relief and joy. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. "Together," he agreed.
As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt hope blooming in my chest. We had a long way to go, but this was a start. A new beginning for us both.
Tobio held me close, his strong arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each deep breath, as if he was trying to memorize this moment.
"I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands gently stroked my back, soothing away the tension I'd been carrying for days.
I burrowed deeper into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. "I missed you too," I whispered back, my fingers clutching at his shirt.
We stood like that for a long while, just holding each other, reconnecting without words. Eventually, the timer in the kitchen beeped, reminding me of the dinner I'd been preparing.
"I should check on the pasta," I said, reluctantly starting to pull away.
But Tobio's arms tightened around me. "Let me help," he said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I want to do this together."
Hand in hand, we walked to the kitchen. As I stirred the pasta, Tobio stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. It was as if he couldn't bear to lose physical contact with me, even for a moment.
We moved around the small kitchen, working in tandem to finish preparing the meal. Tobio insisted on helping with every task, from chopping vegetables for the salad to setting the table. All the while, he kept finding excuses to touch me - a gentle hand on my lower back as he reached for plates, fingers brushing mine as he passed me utensils, a quick kiss on my cheek as I plated the food.
As we sat down to eat, Tobio pulled his chair closer to mine, our knees touching under the table. He reached out, taking my hand in his, his thumb gently caressing my knuckles.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away.
"For what?" I asked, squeezing his hand.
"For giving me another chance. For being patient with me. For loving me, even when I didn't deserve it." His voice was low, filled with sincerity.
I felt tears prick at my eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "We're in this together, remember?" I reminded him with a small smile.
Tobio nodded, bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my palm. "Together," he agreed.
Throughout dinner, Tobio kept finding ways to maintain physical contact - his foot hooked around my ankle, his hand resting on my knee, our shoulders brushing as we ate. It was as if he was trying to make up for all the lost time, all the moments of disconnection.
After we finished eating, Tobio insisted on doing the dishes, pulling me along with him to the sink. We washed and dried in comfortable silence, stealing glances and soft smiles.
As we finished up, Tobio pulled me into another embrace, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Can we just stay like this for a while?" he murmured against my skin.
I nodded, wrapping my arms around him tightly. "As long as you want," I whispered back.
We stood there in the kitchen, holding each other close, the gentle ticking of the clock the only sound in the apartment.
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© kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
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infiniteimaginings · 4 months
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Omg your amazing at writing Anthony bridgerton angst. Pls write more😫😫😫💋
You caused this? (Anthony Bridgerton x GN!Reader)
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Summary: You are complaining to your dearest friend Anthony about your lack of luck through the seasons but he is terribly silent. His silence brings answers that you never expected from him. Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: Angst Word Count: 3.4k A/N: Thank youuu!! Here's more for you my love! (Also for the new thing below this, tagging, you guys can be asked to be tagged in any sort of fics lol!) Tagging: @etherynn
A stunning afternoon shone on the walking paths families decided to take for eloquent bonding times. Children were laughing, mothers were sending their daughters off to promenade with one another, and the men were keeping watchful eyes out. It was a perfect day for the courting season to bloom in its full beauty and potential.
It was lively around the grassy green parks where people conversated with each other, it was a lovely day.
Two of the people taking advantage of the wondrous day to promenade together were you and Anthony Bridgerton, the most inseparable friends in all of London. The two of you had been great friends ever since you were children, you had been there for him through the easy and the rough patches, and he had done the same for you. Neither of you questioned your roles in the other's life, you just fit together.
Anthony loved you dearly, you knew that. He treated you like his own sibling, sometimes you appreciated it, other times you had to give him a good wack for him to stop scaring the poor guests at parties you attended.
There was no need for that during this moment, no. There were only warm smiles, sweet treats, pleasant conversation, and why was that? It was because it was only the two of you, no one to interrupt, or drag you away.
Anthony walked with you along the path, holding his hand out when he reached the stony steps to the dock. You raised a brow and rolled your eyes, taking his hand with a playfully distasteful look on your face, causing him to chuckle ever so slightly.
You walked down the wooden planks of the dock, noticing how there were no boats out. “I wonder why there are no boats out when it’s such a beautiful day.” You hummed aloud, not really expecting any response to your comment.
Anthony looked around and shrugged, hands behind his back, “Would you care to go out on the water?”
“Oh, heavens no!” You answered a little loudly, a sheepish smile finding itself onto your face as you turned to face him. “I was simply expressing my passing curiosity.”
The Bridgerton shook his head and stood quietly, admiring how the waves rocked with one another. He thought of the water like a ball, each drop with its own partner to create a beautiful array of movement within the water, to create a somehow roaring image of tranquility.
You, on the other hand, adjusted your clothing and sat upon the wooden planks, smoothing out the fabric as you did so. You carefully took off your shoes and set them to the side.
“What are you doing?”
The sudden comment caused you to look up with fluttering eyes, “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Anthony walked a bit to you, looking down, “It looks as if you’re on the brink of putting your feet into the water.”
"A remarkable observation indeed," You responded sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes. “I shall have to inform your mother that we have discovered you possess the brilliance of a prodigy.” You spoke, removing the last of any clothing surrounding your feet to enter the cold water. Once you made contact, you left out a soft sigh, your hands falling to the wood behind you, leaving you in a relaxed position.
Anthony sucked his teeth at your remark, but no one could mistake his mischievous grin for anything other than delight. “Let us not raise her expectations.” He mumbled to you with a shake of his head, kneeling to take off his own shoes, “She’s already enthusiastic enough about Daphne.”
You hummed, tilting your head over to him, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun. “Pray tell, how is the new Duchess of Hastings?”
The man rolled his neck a bit and sat next to you, dipping his feet into the water. His body blocked the sunlight so you had no need to squint as you gazed upon him, his eyes falling to yours. 
He let out a huff with a toothy smile, “She’s gone away with Simon.” Anthony informed you, looking out to the water now. He adjusted the collars of his wrist as he took a deep breath, “She swore she’d write letters so…”
“You’re looking forward to them, do not deny it.” You told him, scrunching your nose as you bumped your shoulder with his.
He chuckled and nodded, “Indeed, I eagerly await her thought filled letters.” He told you before biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes still looking forward, but they were further than ever. “I never imagined I’d miss her presence so much,” He confessed, blinking rapidly, “her ceaseless ramblings about finding her soulmate are over now.” He whispered, clearing his throat, adjusting himself once more, “My little sister is now gone, and I won’t be able to protect her anymore.” His voice with loss, his fingers clasped together as if he was grasping for something.
You placed your head on his shoulder, “She’s still your sister Anthony, she will visit.” You reminded him, placing one of your hands on his thigh. 
You felt the man take a sharp inhale of breath before letting it go slowly, “I know…” He nodded against you, placing his head over yours.
There was a moment of silence, the two of you kicking your feet in the water, enjoying the cool splashing against the warmth the sun brought.
You moved your head, looking to the families across the way, “Besides, there are plenty of others for you to protect, people still rely on you.” You reassured him with a supportive smile, remembering his other siblings, specifically his three younger sisters.
Anthony was not thinking the same as you though, he took his hand and placed it over yours, which hadn’t moved from his thigh. “Right, like you.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb along the edge of your hand.
You looked to your lap, laughing a bit, “I require little protection.” You muttered out, playing with a small string on your clothing.
Your friend furrowed his brows and scoffed, “There are dogs out there.”
“I mean, because no one approaches me anymore.” You spoke suddenly, looking at the water solemnly, lips in a frown. 
Anthony's smile dropped, and he turned his head to you, “Pardon?”
You scratched your head with a breathy laugh, “No one wishes to marry me.” You said, tone in a light song, but you knew it wasn’t a light hearted moment. It was a harsh truth you never wanted to face, but you had no choice as the season continued on.
The Bridgerton shook his head though, turning himself to you, his leg propped onto the wood, only one foot in the water. “That is not true, many do.” He assured you, but you shook your head in response.
You turned your body to him, feet still in the water, “Then why has no one called for me in weeks?” You asked, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Why has no one proposed?” You asked another unanswerable question as you looked back to the water.
Anthony felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up in his stomach as you spoke. His blood grew cold, his heart beat faster than ever, his throat felt dry as if all the saliva in his mouth suddenly disappeared. He was suddenly aware of everything around him, all the sounds, the feeling of the wood on his calf, the water rushing around his foot, how hot the sun was.
You didn’t notice his sudden silence, you didn’t notice his expression, you were lost in your own mind. “I just feel as if I’ll never find someone.” You muttered, looking out to the empty body of water, “It’s as if I’m being avoided, and everyone knows to do so.” You continued, feeling pricks from the wood in your fingers. “I wish I knew why I was being avoided, because I swear,” You sighed, “I would change what they don’t like about me.” 
Anthony stayed silent but his eyes were filled with a deep sadness, his lips parted slightly, his hands clenching. He could feel his nails embedding themselves into his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks, his palms now red. 
You looked back over to him, wiping your eyes that began to water, “I didn’t mean to ramble on…” You trailed off as you caught sight of his expression. “What is it?” You asked, concerned as he had never looked at you so…upset before.
He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts, “Nothing.”
“Anthony, what is it?”
The tone of your voice was heartbreaking to him, you were really worried about him after telling him your concerns. He slowly turned his head to you, almost reluctantly, and looked into your eyes that shine with sunlight. He could see the reflection of the clouds in your eyes, and it made him feel worse than he already did. When he looked into your eyes, he knew he could not lie to you. So he took a shaky breath and whispered out the words, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You answered immediately, confused by the sudden change in mood. You wished you had not spoken, perhaps if you kept quiet the two of you would be laughing and splashing each other. 
There was silence. 
“Anthony, for what?” You persisted, searching his expression for answers.
“I’m so sorry…” He continued to shake his head, gulping down his own breaths as if the world would run out of oxygen just for him. As if he was being tortured and couldn’t breath on his own. His grip on your hand was tighter than it had been, “I was just… I’m so sorry…”
His panic conveyed through his action, through his expression, through his words. You just couldn't understand why he was so anxious, why he was so scared. 
Until you realized, he didn’t seem scared over whatever he did, he seemed scared for how you would respond. His eyes kept snapping to you before looking down, he continued to clasp onto your hand, he closed his eyes as if he was silently praying for a better outcome.
Your brows knitted together and your lips pursed, “Sorry?” You repeated his apology, trying to think of what he was so apologetic about.
Suddenly, all of the memories flashed through your mind, quick as ever. The balls, the sitting rooms, the lack of dresses you needed to buy… it was because Anthony had never left your side. You thought he was being supportive, letting you know who would be better than the other for your bright future, but no. He wasn’t helping weed out those who weren’t good for you, he was clearing the field completely, so there was nothing left. No weeds, nor even blossoming flowers that you would’ve loved to pick.
Until there was no one left.
You blinked rapidly as you thought about this, finally making eye contact, “You didn’t.” You breathed out quietly.
You were met with silence and Anthony's sorrowful gaze, already begging for forgiveness.
You tried to remove your hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let up. Once you finally pulled yourself away, you stood quickly, not caring for the water dripping to your clothing from your quick movements. 
Your feet were wet, causing a dark spot to form onto the wooden dock. “Anthony, how could you?” You asked, exasperated, hands going to your face as you began to pace. 
Anthony scrambled up himself, trying to grasp your hands, but you continuously pulled away, making him face your back. “I just wanted to protect you!”
His words caused you to seethe, protect you? How was he protecting you? 
You turned to him, feet stomping once you were face to face with him, “You’re not protecting me!” You yelled, your volume caused him to fall back a bit, unused to your yells. “You’re labeling me as a…” You paused, taking a few small breaths, “bad contender.” You mumbled, clutching your chest, feeling your eyes begin to sting. You began to shake your head as you backed away, “At this rate I will not be married.” 
“What is the fault in that?”
“What is-?” You laughed, honestly not believing that this situation was happening. Your hands were up to your head, clutching at your ears, pinching, praying that this wasn’t really happening.
Anthony Bridgerton, the man of the Bridgerton home, the man who almost forced Daphne to marry a man who wanted nothing good for her. Anthony Bridgerton who was to duel a man for his sisters honor. Anthony Bridgerton, the man who took the responsibilities of his father for his family, because he knew how important it was for women to be married in this world.
You stood straight, face contorted in anger, “You are well aware, as I am, that our society revolves around marriage.” You spoke slowly, “My family wishes for me to be married or I will be a disgrace.” You reminded him, tilting your head, mouth opened in another sense of disbelief. “How is it that you now fail to comprehend such a thing?”
Anthony nodded with your words, but it seemed as if he wasn’t hearing you at all, he was being so frustrating. “I merely believe that you should pursue your own desires.”
“You did not consult me on what I desire!” You yelled, drawing the attention of passersby. You looked down, frown on your face as Anthony waved them off with a smile. You looked back to him with a harsh, cold glare, “You acted according to your own desires, but for what purpose?” 
He ran a hand through his hair before unbuttoning his vest and taking it off. Anthony felt like he was suffocating, and nothing was helping him breathe properly at the moment. “It’s because I hold deep regards for your well-being.”
You scoffed, “No one who truly cares about the other would do that.”
“I-”
You stopped him, holding up your finger, “No, you would never do this to Daphne.” You told him, causing him to fall silent. You could hear the harsh gulp he took as you continued. “You endeavored to secure a match for her, so why must you subject me to this treatment?…” You trailed off, turning away once again before turning right back to him, “You repelled every potential partner.”
Anthony didn’t make eye contact, he just mumbled out, “I have my reasons.”
“Please, list them.” You ordered, trying to meet his gaze, “For it appears that you do not wish the best for me.” 
That sentence brought him out of his thoughts, that sentence made him realize how you didn’t realize the true intentions of his actions. “I care deeply for you!” He spoke a bit loudly, “It is inexplicable, I can not put into words my concern for your future.” He continued to speak, and you were quiet, waiting for any valid reason, because you wanted to forgive him, you did. “I truly believe that none among the ton is truly suitable for you.”
You blinked at him, “No one of the…” You just stared at him, “You…what?”
“Please understand.”
Oh, you understood just fine. You crossed your arms with a raised brow, “No one but you, I assume?”
His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, “That is not what I mean.” He spoke, breaths quickening as his thoughts swirled through his mind.
“So you harbor no romantic sentiments towards me?”
“If that is what I implied, I apologize.” 
You nodded, poking your cheek with your tongue, “Then why do all this?”
You were met with no response, so you continued, walking forward, poking his chest with your finger. “If you do not love me,” You began, “also being you do not wish to court me,” you clarified, tilting your head with a blank expression, “then your actions are malicious.”
Anthony shook his head, cupping your hand in his, “They are not, they are in good health.” He tried to convince you, but you wouldn’t budge. 
You pulled your hand from his grasp, “Is the idea of courting me so revolting to you that you must scare off all contenders with your jealousy,” You backed away, hands up, “and leave me as a spinster for the entire court to laugh at?”
“It was not my intention.” Is that all he could say, it was not his intention? 
“Then what was your intention?”
He sputtered and babbled out a response, but it was stutters of the beginning of sentences he would never finish. The only thing his pieces of words could convince you of, was that he had no idea why he would do such a thing. 
“Was it your intention to prompt me to recognize deeper emotions for you?” You asked him, and he continued to knock his brain for some sort of response that he couldn’t give you. “Well?”
The Bridgerton man put his head down, hands over his face before they went to the back of his neck, “I thought,” He spoke, dropping his hands to his sides, “if we spent more time together as if we were courting-”
“But we are not.” You interrupted with an obvious stare, “You are not courting me, you do not wish to court me Anthony.”
He nodded and clapped, eyes wide with promise as he strode towards you in a sudden burst of excitement. “But perhaps, if we acted as such, we could discover the wisdom in such an action.” He spoke, nodding along with his own words, “It is smart, surely, you see it through my perspective!”
You chuckled because, what else were you supposed to do at the sudden idiocy that escapes a man's mouth? “Anthony, this is not business.”
“I understand that,” He told you confidently, “but, consider the mutual benefits it could offer us.”
You chuckled once more, taking a step back with a shocked smile, “I don’t care if marrying you would take the trouble from my family for thousands of generations, Anthony.” You explained, waving your hands in a large ‘no’ motion. “I would never marry you!” You told him harshly, the words engraved in the air as a promise.
Anthony's eyes dimmed, his breath pausing as his shoulders began to droop, “Why not?”
“For the same reason you will not court me.” You answered, rolling your eyes a bit.
He didn’t understand so he stared at you expectantly, “Which is?”
You couldn’t believe he wasn’t aware of why he wasn’t courting you, why your marriage would never work. Since he couldn’t understand such a simple answer, you stepped forward, staring him into his eyes. His brown eyes looked at you, searching for answers.
You shook your head lightly, “ Anthony, I feel nothing when I look at you.”
Time has stopped completely for Anthony Bridgerton. You spoke the words so easily. He felt everything move so slowly, to the point he didn’t even realize that he stopped breathing. He didn’t stop staring at you until you waved your hand in his face to capture his attention. 
“Is that why you think I won’t court you?” He whispered to you, face falling.
You scoffed, again, at how he wasn’t understanding the conversation. “Wake up, Mr. Bridgerton!” You yelled, the first time you’ve ever used the title. “You just tried to propose a business deal with me, knowing that I have a better chance with any man over you.” You explained, hands falling to your sides as you paced across the doc, the man standing still, facing the same direction he was before you moved. “Yet, you still sabotaged any chance for me this season, and I will end up alone due to your selfish actions!” You spoke angrily, nostrils flaring once you finally looked at him again.
His eyes were the only thing that followed you, “I..I don’t…. I wasn’t thinking of-”
“You’re right!” You told him, clapping at his realization. “You were not thinking, which is exactly why you ruined everything for me!” You yelled, voice feeling strained due to the emotions you were currently feeling. “You ruin everything because you do not think.”
Anthony wiped his coming tears, opening his mouth for another apology.
You stopped him immediately, “I am utterly sick of every apology that leaves your mouth, because you do not mean it.” You spoke, not letting him speak any further.
You walked to the steps that separated the dock from the walking paths, “Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton.” were your final words before you left Anthony near the water.
He couldn’t say anything else, his gaze was trapped on the wooden flooring of the dock. What had he done? Why does he feel his heart squeezing every time he takes a deep breath in? Why was everything spinning?
More importantly, why did he do something so stupid, and push you away?
827 notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 1 year
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“i sent a text,” you mutter to yourself as you push and hold the door open with your foot. “and yet nobody came down to help me with the groceries.” 
you push the door shut with your elbow, turning around to see why exactly no one had answered your text. the three of them are sat at the dining table. megumi’s staring at the table, tsumiki’s staring at a painting on the wall, and satoru's glaring at the pile of phones in front of him.
“what is going on?” you ask, setting your bags on the countertop. 
“family meeting,” satoru answers, still glaring at the phones.
“really?” you ask, pulling out your chair to join them. “last time you called a family meeting, you wanted to discuss whether or not you could pull off an earring.” 
“that was a short conversation,” megumi quips.
“hey, i’m still confident that you’re all wrong and i’d totally rock an earring,” he tells you. “but that’s not what this is about. this is about tsumiki.” 
“oh,” you say, surprised by this turn of events. “i thought megumi got in trouble at school again.”
“he did.” 
“i did.” 
figures. you’d address that later. 
“and that’s why i was at their school, where i saw tsumiki about to skip class with - get this - with her boyfriend, who none of us knew existed.”
you exhale a heavy breath. “oh…” 
but your reaction must be too mild for your fiancé, who sends you a funny look. “‘oh?’ that’s a little light. she has a boyfriend that none of us knew about!”
an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. satoru looks at megumi, who looks at tsumiki, who looks at you. 
you actively work to avoid his gaze, further incriminating yourself.
“wait…do you know something?”
“can i talk to you for a second?” you ask, nodding your head toward the kitchen. he follows you over, but not before telling the kids not to touch their phones. 
“how are we handling this?” he asks, pacing back and forth with a deeply conflicted look on his face. you don’t think you’ve even seen him look this serious about something before. “‘cause i know i’m usually the fun parent and you usually bring the heat when it comes to punishments, but i’m already there, babe! she’s grounded. phone, gone! food, maybe! and she is forbidden from seeing this boy for–  till– till she’s in college.”
“satoru–”
“i can’t believe she didn’t tell us she had a boyfriend,” he mutters, not finished yet. “who is this kid, anyway? her boyfriend?” you roll your eyes when he even gags on the word.
“okay, okay,” you laugh nervously, rubbing your hands up and down his arms. “do you promise that you’re not going to freak out if i tell you something?”
“no.”
“fair enough,” you agree. “uh…i met her boyfriend.” his eyes widen, but you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything. “hold on! she only told me a couple of days ago because they just started dating two weeks ago. she was going to tell you, i promise.”
“but she’s too young to have—”
“satoru, keeping apart kids that are in love never works out for the people keeping them apart.” you loop your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “imagine if someone had told you that you couldn’t date me.”
“yeah, i know,” he grumbles. “i guess i’m just hurt that she didn’t tell me right away. we have a connection, you know. like you and megumi. last week when we went out for our weekly ice cream gossip session, she didn’t say a thing!” 
“you guys have weekly gossip sessions?”
“uh, yeah. as if you and megumi don’t talk shit about us illiterates whenever you go to the bookstore.” 
“i think we’re getting off track,” you deflect with a huff. “what are we going to do about the situation at hand?”
_____
at the sound of a knock on the door, tsumiki bursts out of her room. “i’ll get it!”
“be cool,” you tell satoru, who scoffs as he fixes his hair.
“i’m cool. the coolest. i’m like ice.” 
“i’m serious,” you grit as tsumiki pulls the door open. “do not be weird right now.”
you smile as tsumiki introduces you both, taking the bouquet of flowers that her boyfriend offers you.
“dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself at home in the meantime,” you tell him, filling a vase with water. 
“in the living room, preferably,” gojo adds stiffly. where tsumiki shoots him a look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “we’ll be in the kitchen, you’ll have plenty of privacy.”
“the kitchen and the living room are the same room,” she mutters.
“then you can pretend that we’re not even here,” he says, tone light. then, after a moment. “but remember that we will be here. the whole time.”
“okay, you need to take all of that and put it away,” you tell him sternly, handing him a stack of plates to put on the table. “welcome to the real world, babe. this is what raising teenagers is all about.”
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 8 months
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pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: wanda maximoff, your domme and girlfriend, tests you with impossible rules, and subsequently punishes you for failing to follow them.
content warnings: obvi smut, restraints, impact play, edging, cunnilingus.
word count: 4k+
masterlist
original request
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
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My Good Girl
The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the floor-to-ceiling window, illuminating the cozy office and casting soft shadows across the floor. Wanda sat at her desk, fingers absentmindedly tapping on the dark wood. Lines of text filled her screen, yet her mind was elsewhere. 
With a soft hum of contemplation, Wanda closed the laptop, a soft click breaking through the peaceful silence of the room. 
‘I want to try something new tonight.’
The text is sent with a soft sound, and Wanda traces her phone slowly as she waits for you to read the message. Her mind is thrown back to the plethora of information she’d spent the better half of the afternoon consuming. 
Agatha, one of her closest friends, and a well-known domme, had sent her a few websites to check out. Wanda had let it slip during one of their wine nights that although she was happy with you and the dom/sub relationship you’d built, she wanted to try something more. 
You were perfect. Truly. Submissive, and willing to do whatever she said. Wanda loved the thrill she got whenever you obeyed an order. 
But you were almost too perfect. 
One of the sites she’d pursued was full of dominants sharing the ways they put a bratty sub in their place. Wanda had found herself growing wetter with each post she scrolled through. Her mind had found itself wandering over to you. 
You, tears welling up as she choked you with her strap. You, pulling uselessly on scarlet ribbon restraints as she teased you for hours. You, with your face scrunched up as she twisted and pulled on your nipples until you begged her for mercy. 
The word mommy, slipping from your lips as you blushed. 
Wanda had to take several breaks throughout her afternoon, her fingers slipping below her waistband and sliding over the slick arousal coating her panties. She’d thought of you while rubbing herself to a climax, imagining your wide eyes as you knelt before her…
Fuck. She was getting worked up again. 
Her phone dinged, and Wanda had to physically shake herself while she scrambled for her phone. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the phone, seeing your message. 
‘Of course we can! What did you have in mind?’
You were so eager to please, so willing to succumb to anything Wanda asked of you. She took a few deep breaths, typing out her response with one hand while quickly packing her bag. 
‘When I get home, I want you naked and kneeling by the door. You will address me as ma’am, nothing else. Understood?’
Wanda could feel herself slipping into her dominant headspace, the thrill of giving orders rushing through her. 
‘And if I break one of those rules?’
Oh, it was almost too easy.
‘I’ll have to punish you, darling. I’m on my way home. Remember my instructions.’
Slipping her phone into her pocket, Wanda cast one last look around her office before turning out the light. Locking up, she strode quickly down the hall, thankfully not seeing any other employees around. 
The car ride home was agonizing, the heat between her legs growing into an unbearable inferno. Wanda couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together at the thought of you breaking her rules. 
And she knew just the thing to distract you and cause you to slip up. 
At a stoplight just outside the city, about five minutes from your shared home, Wanda pulled out her phone. Knowing the light would take a while to turn green, she pulled up the locked photo album hidden in her files. Selecting a photo, she quickly sent it to you with no caption. 
The photo was a selfie, the phone propped up against her work computer. Wanda had popped a few too many buttons, the lace of her red bra peeking out from underneath her silk shirt and jacket. Her eyes were locked on the camera, iridescent and smoldering, while the fingers of one hand were wrapped tightly around her tie, pulling it away from her neck. The other hand was resting on her belt, a single finger slipping beneath the waistband of her dress pants. 
Wanda let her imagination run wild, imagining the flush creeping up your neck and coloring your face. Your breath would catch, pupils dilating as arousal shot through you. By the time you positioned yourself at the door, your juices would be smeared all over your delicate inner thighs, your eyes pleading and desperate. 
The light turned green, and Wanda refocused. Only a few minutes until she'd be home. 
The anticipation was killing her. 
Wanda forced herself to slow her gait, walking leisurely up the steps to the front door. Her heels clicked on the pavement and she hoped that you could hear her approaching. 
The door clicked open, the key sliding easily into the lock. 
Green eyes found you easily, a pleased smile stretching across those beautiful lips as Wanda observed your kneeling form. Your eyes were just as wide as she’d hoped, your irises disappearing as your pupils dilated further at the sight of her. 
“Hello, darling.”
Wanda made sure to pitch her voice low, a sultry tone making its way through her words. Her gaze pierced yours, a silent demand hidden within them. 
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Your voice shook, and you sucked in a shaky breath. 
Your hands were placed atop your thighs, palms flat as you subtly parted your thighs. Wanda caught a glimpse of the shiny arousal coating your inner thighs, and she breathed deeply, hoping your scent would envelop her. 
“How was your day, sweetheart?” Wanda asked, setting her bag down and slipping her jacket off her shoulders. She hung it up, flicking her fingers in silent order for you to follow. 
“It was good, um, ma’am.” You stuttered, crawling after her as she made her way towards the living room. 
Seating herself on the couch, Wanda crossed one leg elegantly over the other. You crawled up to her, eyes glancing between her lips and legs. You sat up, posture straight and palms flat, with your fingers thrumming nervously on your thighs. 
“And what did my good girl do today?” Wanda smirked at you. 
“Oh, I uh…” Your eyes grew distant as you tried to force yourself to focus. “I worked a little bit, and then I made some meal prep for the week, ma’am.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow, “Anything else?”
You wracked your brain, trying to remember what you’d done that day. The only thing running through your mind was the insatiable picture Wanda had sent you. Your mind focused on the captivating curve of her breasts, the smoldering look in her eyes, similar to the one she was giving you now. 
“Oh!” You remembered something, excitement weaving its way through your words. “I made you something!”
Wanda paused for a moment, seemingly waiting for something, but you were looking up at her with wide eyes and a satisfied grin. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You could sense the satisfaction in Wanda’s voice, and faltered. 
“Ma’am.” You blurted out, but Wanda was already shaking her head. 
“Too late, darling.” 
You paled slightly, but Wanda could see the excitement glowing in your eyes. You were curious, anticipation thrumming through you. The flush on your face was slowly growing darker, the tips of your ears burning as the weight of Wanda’s gaze settled on you. 
“Bedroom, now. You know what position I like you in.”
A punishment. That’s what you were receiving. You hadn’t had one of those in a long time, not since the beginning of your relationship with Wanda. 
“Yes ma’am.” Your voice was quiet, and you stood, watching Wanda for any sign of disapproval. When she gave none, you turned and headed toward the bedroom, aware of her gaze burning on your hips. 
Approaching the bed, you let your hand caress the soft silk of the comforter. Kneeling on top of the mattress, you take a steadying breath, listening for the click of Wanda’s heels. 
You don’t have to wait for long. The slow, measured steps of Wanda’s confident gait reach your ears, and you subconsciously straighten your back. Ensuring that your gaze is locked on your hands, you resist the urge to look up when the soft light from the hallway hits your eyes as Wanda enters the room.
“Such a good girl.” Wanda’s voice is soft, and you feel some of your arousal leak out and drip down your thighs. 
You don’t speak, knowing that Wanda likes to command every part of you, including your words. Instead, you offer a small smile, eyes locked on her form as she walks toward the closet. She disappears inside, throwing a smile over her shoulder.
A whimper threatens to escape you, but you choke it down. If Wanda heard one errant sound from you, she’d surely increase your punishment. That’s the last thing you want, so you simply resist the urge to shift on the bed and wait. 
The minutes stretch on, and you mentally curse your girlfriend out. You knew she was doing this on purpose, building up the anticipation. You want to call out, but your words get stuck in your throat, not wanting to add to your punishment. 
So you wait, your arousal building with each minute until the sheets below you are damp. 
You hear the door open, the heady presence of Wanda Maximoff filling the room. The sheer dominance that she emanates washes over you, loosening your muscles as your head grows fuzzier. 
You can trust her. Wanda only wants what’s best for you. 
“You’re doing so well for me, love,” Wanda says, moving onto the bed and kneeling before you. She’s still fully clothed, her buttoned shirt brushing against your skin in a tantalizing dance as she sets a few items beside her. You don’t dare look, keeping your eyes trained on your hands until she commands you otherwise. 
“Look at me.”
Green eyes seem slightly softer in the dim light, and you search them for any clue of what the night entails. 
“Tell me why I’m punishing you,” The words jumpstart your brain, and you begin speaking as Wanda picks up a silky, scarlet ribbon. 
“I forgot one of your rules, I’m sorry, mo…” The word almost slips from your lips, but you clench them shut. 
Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to continue. You remain silent, still not ready to use the title you want. Your mind wars with itself, the waves of indecision subsiding when Wanda gently smiles at you and brushes her fingers lightly against your cheek.
Her eyes are soft, and you know that she won’t press the topic. Not until you’re ready. 
“And which rule was that?”
“I forgot to call you ma’am, I’m sorry,” You say, your voice earnest. 
At your practically whimpered words, Wanda has already forgiven you. However, the thought of punishing you is far too tantalizing, so she picks up one of the silk ribbons. 
“And you know what this is, correct?” 
“Yes ma’am,” You won’t be forgetting her title anytime soon, and Wanda feels pride shoot through her at your steadfast obedience. She gently pushes you backwards, until you realize what she’s doing. 
Positioning yourself on your back, you stretch your arms out toward the headboard, enjoying the feel of the scarlet ribbon around your wrist as Wanda begins to restrain you. Your clit pulses when she tightens the ribbon securely, and you fight the urge to roll your hips.
Quickly fastening your other wrist to the headboard, Wanda waits for you to test the strength. She smirks while you writhe beneath her, attempting to escape. You squirm, your hips restrained by her thighs as she sits atop you, her fingernails scraping lightly down your sides before you give up. 
“Thank you, ma’am.” You say, and Wanda’s eyes light up in pleasure. 
In one smooth movement, she flips you over, her fingers digging into your hips as she roughly positions you on your stomach. Your wrists cross over each other at the change of position, her hands pulling your body down until you can barely move an inch. 
A hand on the back of your head shoves your face into a soft pillow, and you turn your cheek slightly to be able to breathe. Wanda doesn't seem to notice, her attention focused on the item she now holds in her hand. 
You catch a glimpse of the paddle and whine. It’s been a while since she’s used that toy on you, and you vividly remember the last experience. You hadn’t been able to sit down for three days. 
“Remember your colors, sweetheart.” Wanda reminds you, and you nod into the pillow as her hand gently squeezes the flesh of your ass. 
The first strike takes you by surprise, and your body jolts, attempting to escape the sharp sting. You hear Wanda chuckling above you and can practically feel her eyes appraising the bright red mark that the paddle left. Before you’ve recovered from the first hit, the paddle swings down again, pain and pleasure mixing as she strategically places marks across your whole backside. 
When the paddle hits the sensitive skin of your upper thigh, you let out a yelp. 
“Darling?” Wanda asks. You can’t formulate a response and your breaths are heavy and fast. You tug at the restraints, a soft green tumbling past your lips. 
The hits are quick and hard, pain radiating through you even as your clit throbs. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheet beneath you. The humiliation of the situation only turns you on more, and it’s not long before you’re moaning softly into the pillow. 
A heavy sigh makes its way through you when Wanda pauses, setting the paddle down beside you. “Color,” She demands, her hands cool against your abused flesh. 
“Green, thank… thank you,” Your words are breathy, stuttering when Wanda’s fingers graze your slit. 
A single finger circles your clit, and you can’t help but push your ass upwards, trying to appease the tension between your legs. 
“Oh,” Wanda says, her voice full of mirth. “It seems like you want more, love.”
Nodding frantically, you roll your hips forward. 
A sharp pain makes its way through you, Wanda’s hand coming down quickly against your sensitive backside. You let out a half moan, half yelp at the action. 
“Don’t rut against the bed like a pathetic mutt,” She practically growls, bringing her hand down sharply a few more times. “You’re practically begging for a punishment.”
You want to complain, you want to whine about the injustice of it all. Instead, you remain quiet, not wanting to risk more pain. You can feel Wanda shifting, and bite your lip when the cool leather of the paddle drags across your overheated backside. 
“Do you want more?” Wanda asks, and you can’t do anything but nod. You turn your head, peeking at her from the corner of your eye. Her green eyes are locked on the swell of your ass, and you shudder at the hungry look in them. 
“Beg for it.”
The paddle presses against your clit, the pressure sending pleasure coursing through you. Resisting the urge to grind against it, you grit your teeth and speak. “Please, ma’am. I want you to hit me. Punish me, please, I’ve been a bad girl.”
Wanda doesn’t respond, instead raising the paddle and delivering more blows to your aching backside. 
You begin to moan, the pain morphing into a sick sort of pleasure. With each blow, your clit is pressed against the mattress, your orgasm approaching rapidly. You know better than to beg, you’d learned long ago that Wanda liked to control every aspect of your pleasure, including when you were allowed to cum. 
“Are you close?” Wanda asks, not giving you a chance to respond before she continues to speak, “I can see you dripping onto the sheets, your hips rutting pathetically of their own will. Do you want to cum, baby? Do you want to cum while mommy hits you with the paddle?”
The words worm their way into your mind, twisting your thoughts while pleasure and pain consume your being. Her hits don’t cease, the leather paddle slapping against you over and over again. 
The pillow is damp beneath your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you’d begun to cry, and a whine escaped your mouth without your permission. It only spurs Wanda on. 
“Oh, you like this, don’t you darling? You like being mommy’s little fucktoy, taking whatever I give you. Say it.”
You barely register her words, something incoherent spewing from your mouth as she delivers the harshest blows of the night. One of Wanda’s hands tangles with your hair, wrenching your head up from the pillow. 
“Say it.” Her voice is deadly, low, and raspy. You don’t dare disobey. 
“I like it, I like it when you treat me like this. Please don’t stop. Please, fuck.” You cut yourself off, feeling Wanda swing the paddle harshly at the curse word. 
“Mommy, please.”
Relief. Your brain starts to work again. The pain radiating from your backside subsides slightly as Wanda drops the paddle to the floor. You feel as though you should be embarrassed, but don’t. 
Truth be told, you’ve wanted to call Wanda by that title for a while, and at this moment, it just felt right. 
“Say that again for me, darling.” 
You feel your body being manhandled again, your hips twisting until you’re on your back again. Green eyes stare down at you, a slightly dazed look in them. Wanda’s fingers trace patterns on your ribcage, moving up to tease your nipples while she waits. 
“Mommy,” Your voice is quiet, almost shy, but the word is genuine. “Please let me cum.”
Wanda can’t bring herself to punish you any longer. Not after you’ve finally used the title she’s been yearning for. She finds herself suddenly incapable of speaking, the words catching in her throat. 
Surging forward, Wanda presses her impossibly soft lips to yours. Her tongue dances against yours, tracing your lips and drawing soft moans from you. You fight the urge to roll your hips, her thigh pressed perfectly against your center. 
Her tongue explores your mouth for what seems like forever, and you find yourself growing wetter with each minute. You can’t complain, though. Kissing Wanda will always be something you treasure. 
Eventually, the need for air becomes too great, and Wanda pulls back. Her eyes search yours, a smile slowly stretching across her face. 
“Good girl,” She coos, a hand reaching up and cupping your cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart,”
You grin, sure that your eyes are sparkling as you gaze up at her. From this angle, she looks almost angelic, with her hair falling around you. You don’t mind, if you could choose anything to worship, Wanda would be the first and only thing on your list. 
“I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay?” She says, not giving you a chance to respond before she’s descending your body. She leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, enjoying the way you jolt beneath her whenever she nips you with her teeth.
The bruises she leaves behind fill her with pride and a hint of possessiveness, and she gazes up at you when her mouth finally reaches the glistening heat between your thighs. 
“Please,” You whisper, throwing your head back when her tongue applies gentle pressure against your clit. 
It’s practically torture, her skilled mouth alternating between sucking and licking your clit as your orgasm approaches quickly. You want to reach down and tangle your fingers with her hair, pulling her flush against you, and tug uselessly at your restraints. 
Your hips twitch violently, a sign that you’re close to an orgasm. A few… more… strokes of that talented tongue…
Wanda pulls away, and you whine loudly. Her fingers twist your nipple harshly in response, and you mumble a quick apology. 
“None of that,” Wanda reprimands, “you take whatever I give you, remember?”
She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, burying her head between your thighs before you can fully catch your breath. This time, she sucks your clit violently, red-hot bolts of pleasure shooting through you as your thighs tense. 
Her mouth disappears. 
Giving you a few moments to recover, Wanda watches the realization enter your eyes. You mumble, “You’re going to edge me, aren’t you?”
Chuckling, Wanda circles your clit with a single finger. She watches your eyes gloss over as your hips twitch. Pressing harder, she moves rhythmically over the hard nub, enjoying the moans reverberating around the room. You tense up, lips parting as your orgasm draws near…
“Only good girls get to cum, darling,” Wanda pulls her fingers fully away from you. 
You want to scream. You want to curse her out, you want to escape your restraints and hump her thigh until you cum. You want to…
A moan claws its way out from your chest, and Wanda takes that as a sign to continue. 
You don’t know how long she edges you, the only thing you’re aware of is the growing arousal between your thighs and the pleasure that builds and builds and dissipates whenever Wanda senses that you’re close. 
After a while, the fuzziness takes over your mind, and you lose count of the edges as Wanda’s tongue relentlessly works against your core. She keeps her fingers locked around your thighs, refusing to give your pussy any sort of real satisfaction. 
Practically crazed with arousal and desperation, you attempt to roll your hips against Wanda’s lips. 
“Do you want me to bring the paddle out again?” Wanda raises a single eyebrow, her hand raising and striking your swollen pussy. The sting shoots through your clit, and you jerk your hips as you recoil from the pain. 
“No, I’m sorry mommy. Please…” You moan as Wanda’s warm mouth encircles your clit. “Please forgive me.”
Time blends with the countless edges, and you find yourself lost in a pleasurable vanilla haze. The only thing you’re aware of is Wanda. Her tongue, building you up. Her eyes, watching you as her fingers hold your thighs and hips against the mattress. Her scent, an addicting drug that you never want to abstain from. 
Your orgasm, just barely out of reach. Wanda, bringing you closer and closer and…
You open your eyes, your vision seeming sharper than before. Warm water surrounds you, suds covering your chest as a warm washcloth gently rubs against your collarbone.
“Mommy?” 
Wanda moves into your field of vision, her eyes filled with concern. You smile widely, relaxing further into the water. You want to reach up and pull her face closer, yearning to feel her lips against yours, but your limbs don’t seem to work properly. 
“Hi, sweetheart. You scared me,” Wanda’s voice is soft, and you can sense the worry underneath her accent. 
“I’m alright, I promise,” You reassure her, resting your head against the side of the tub. “But…” Trailing off, you watch Wanda’s brows furrow in concern. 
“I still really want to cum.” 
Wanda scoffs, splashing you lightly as you laugh. Allowing yourself to fully relax, you let her wash away your sweat, her hands gentle as she scrubs the dried arousal off your thighs. 
“You don’t get to cum tonight, I'm punishing you.” Wanda sounds like she’s about to whine, and you splash her. The water droplets cling to her hair, and you laugh at her pout, your arms working again as you pull her in by the neck for a kiss.
Her tongue dances languidly alongside yours, and you push down the arousal that attempts to rise. Honestly, you’d get aroused if Wanda simply walked into a room. With her lips on yours, it’s much harder to tamper your desperation for her. 
“Maybe tomorrow,” Wanda mumbles against your lips, and you roll your eyes. 
Eventually, Wanda ends the impromptu makeout session, finishing the bath and drying you off. She applies some aloe vera to your sore backside, kissing the marks softly as she does so. 
You’ve never felt more loved. 
Sliding in between fresh, cool sheets, Wanda pulls you flush against her. Your head is comfortably nestled in the crook of her neck, and you can feel her heartbeat against your palm. 
Gentle lips kiss the top of your head, and you feel yourself drifting off. Wanda hums, murmuring one final thing before you finally succumb to the waves of drowsiness washing over you. 
“Happy Valentine's Day, my love.”
---
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minswriting · 4 months
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Fear Of Loving You - Spencer Reid x Reader
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About: Reader is madly in love with Spencer Reid. But rather than confessing her feelings for him, she gets into a different relationship to try and move on from him. When he finds out, he’s quite mad. Cue the angsty ish love confession
Warnings: Angst, love confessions, emotions, slight nsfw, mdni
Word Count: 1,600 words
Note: don’t get your hopes up with this one pookies. i quite literally pulled this out of my ass because i realized i had no one shots of spencer lol. regardless, enjoy!! i have smuttier one shots being planned at the moment heehee
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The word love can be very complex. We all have an instinctual desire to love or be in love with something. Whether it be a person, an animal, or an object. It’s why we can love our families, our pets, that random character on our screens that just makes our hearts beat fast. But love can also be hard. Right person, right time. Wrong person, wrong time. Wrong person, right time. Right person, wrong time. There are multiple different ways a relationship can be. And your relationship with Spencer?
Well, it's the right person, wrong time.
Being co-workers of the same age, it wasn’t hard to get close to one another when you joined the team. The two of you became friends fairly quickly. He had given you a random fact when the two of you met and you had responded with “oh wow! i didn’t know that,” in an enthusiastic manner which had led to you and Spencer having a full-blown conversation on the plane to your first case rather than interacting much with anyone else. After that, things just flowed easily.
Days at the bureau or on the case turned into nights of spending time with one another. The two of you have gone to a Korean Film Festival together, the opening of a new bookstore, you cooked him dinner at your place occasionally, ordered takeout at his. It wasn’t hard for the two of you to grow feelings for one another when you’re constantly spending so much time together. With Spencer, you felt complete in a way you hadn’t felt complete before.
But you knew nothing could come of your feelings for him. How could they? In the end, you’re both co-workers, working a dangerous profession. The thought of ever dating Spencer terrified you due to the fear of losing him on the job or god forbid your relationship ends horribly and how that would turn out for the rest of the team. So your feelings for one another remained unspoken, there but never acknowledged.
Eventually, you tried to move on from your feelings for Spencer. You met a guy that you got along with, someone who made you feel a bit lighter. And eventually, you began dating him. But the moment the BAU found out, Spencer had given you the cold shoulder and you couldn’t figure out as to why.
Which led to where you are now, on a case in Vermont, forced to share a room with Spencer after he had been giving you the silent treatment since you told the team about your relationship earlier on in the day. The room was dead silent as you sat on the bed, going through your bag. The silence from Spencer was frustrating you, to say the least. He was most definitely much more talkative and you couldn’t figure out what was making him act so coldly towards you.
Earlier in the day, after you had told the team, the two of you had gone to a crime scene together and he only spoke to the detective that had gone with you guys, ignoring your statements and words. You glanced over at Spencer who was sitting on a chair, reading over the case file.
“Spencer,” you said his name, breaking the dead silence in the room. He didn’t answer, causing you to take a deep breath in frustration. “Giving me the silent treatment is really low of you right now.”
Spencer simply scoffed, not responding to your words. His eyes were glued to the file, though you could tell he wasn’t actually reading it.
“Listen, if you’re mad that I’m in a relationship then that’s fine. You can feel how you want to feel. But I expected you to have a lot more respect and maturity to say it to my face,” you exclaimed, grabbing your pajamas and placing your bag on the floor.
“What about the respect of telling me yourself privately?” Spencer replied back, breaking his silence. His brown eyes were on you as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I thought we were much closer that we could tell one another anything.” He stood up from the chair, walking over to you. “You want to talk about respect and maturity? You should’ve told me when it happened.”
You looked up at Spencer as he towered over you. You felt the guilt, knowing you should have talked to him about it. Because above all else, he is your best friend. However, how could you tell him when you’re also so madly in love with him? He would’ve known easily that you didn’t actually like your boyfriend as much as you may exclaim you did. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you said softly.
“You didn’t know how or you just didn’t want to?” Spencer said with indignation, furrowing his eyebrows. He was infuriated, to say the least. Understandably so. “Because from my perspective, Y/N, it just seemed as though I wasn’t important enough for you to tell.”
“Spencer, you’re so important,” you said, standing up from the bed so you were almost at eye level with him. “God, you’re so ridiculously important to me.” You said sincerely, tilting your head as you looked up at Spencer.
“Doesn’t really feel like it,” Spencer replied, pressing his lips into a straight line and shrugging his shoulders. “If I am so important to you, you would’ve said something to me. That’s really the bottom line of it. But no, instead I had to find out alongside the rest of the team. I genuinely thought we were closer than that but clearly we weren’t.”
“But we are!” You raised your voice. “We are very close which is why I got into this relationship in the first place!”
Spencer gave you a look of confusion. “What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows once more.
You took a deep breath, realizing that you can’t just hide your true feelings from Spencer forever. The unspoken words between the two of you must get spoken. And there really isn’t any turning back now. Either way, your relationship with him would be screwed. “I got into this relationship because of you,” you said calmly, closing your eyes for just a moment as you gathered your thoughts. You opened them back up to look Spencer in the eye. “Because if I hadn’t, I’d be spending so much of my time pining after you, someone I cannot have.”
“Who says you can’t have me?” Was his only question, causing your heart to flutter in your chest.
“Me,” you said simply. “I am scared that if we ever crossed the line of friendship into something else, that something bad would happen. I don’t want to lose you, Spencer, I really don’t. And in our line of work, it’s more probable that we could lose one another and that thought haunts me everyday.” You took on a vulnerable tone as you spoke. You could see Spencer’s features softening as he looked at you, finally understanding what you’re saying. “So, to move on from you, I got into this relationship. It isn’t a good thing for me to do. The guy is innocent and likes me for me. But all I care about is you, Spencer.” You finished your confession with a deep sigh, closing your eyes as anxiety began to consume you, not knowing how Spencer would react to such a confession.
What you hadn’t expected was to feel Spencer cup your cheeks as he captured your lips with his own, kissing you so deeply. It took you a moment to process what was happening, the action causing you to tense up and open your eyes. But after a few moments, you relaxed into Spencer’s touch and kissed him back, closing your eyes once more.
The kiss said what was unsaid. That Spencer cared about you just as much as you did for him. It was a passionate kiss with many emotions. His lips were hungry for yours, your tongues exploring one another’s mouths. And after a few minutes, Spencer let go of your lips, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “I care about you too,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever cared about since I met you was you,” Spencer exclaimed, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.
Soft words with soft looks, kisses upon kisses, all in which led to the both of you naked and on the hotel mattress, pawing at one another in the best sex in your lifetime. It was needy and passionate, the type that conveyed everything you guys needed to know. Nothing else mattered except you and Spencer. Spencer held you close to him, lips on yours, as he thrusted into you. He needed to feel all of you. Just as you needed to feel all of him.
And when you guys finished, laying on the bed in each other’s arms, you turned to look at Spencer. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I should’ve just told you my feelings rather than jumped into some dumb relationship but I was scared.”
“I’m scared too,” he murmured back, resting his head on top of yours. “But I’ve read that relationships do best when the couple works through issues together. So, any problems that occur, any fears that we have, we need to communicate them and face them together.”
“Are we a couple now?” You couldn’t help but ask.
Spencer moved his head off of yours, glancing at you with a small smile. “After you break up with that random boyfriend of yours, I will properly ask you out.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
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