#but if they had to hold hands she’d get too flustered too and he’s like honestly what are you a child? (smug face making fun of her)

[swordmaid]

for me… FOR ME..!!! and for shri’iia specifically the lock in for astarion’s romance is his graveyard scene in act 3.

i think it is too quick for shri’iia to be moving on to another relationship considering her previous one was with her mistress who essentially groomed and isolated her for like … more than hundred years. learning to chase her own desires and not moulding herself to what anyone wants her to be is something so new to her…!!! and something that she’s still learning how to be comfortable with….

and what I like abt romancing astarion with her is that I usually go for the dialogue path in his act 2 confession scene where you can ask him:

- what do YOU want to do?

and he goes like honestly idk what we’re doing but /this/ is nice. it just feels like two people exploring the option to love for the first time and taking things in their own pace rather than jumping straight into the relationship. they’re going at a snails pace… they don’t know what they’re doing but they like this feeling and the vibe and they want to more of it but they’re not ready to commit to anything yet and it’s fine for them …!! and they’re only committing by the end in the graveyard scene where significant time has passed and they’ve learnt a little more about themselves and they’re both more confident about their own desires and also how they want to be loved.

like it is so fitting I think… and sweet… not to mention astarion being a high elf & a vampire and shri’iia being a drow, they have all the time of the world for themselves so I def think they would want to take their time. except if shri’iia turns into a mindflayer or drider by the end then that plan is out the window lol

[luveline]

hi hello!! I want to say I absolutely adore and love your writing and have for a few years now! I have a steve request (could fit with kbd or not!) (also so self indulgent lol) where reader grew up with a very emotionally distant father and was determined to make her own family so different than the one she grew up with, and sees steve be so kind and loving towards their children and is so happy her kids won’t feel how she does with her own father and thanks him for being wonderful 🫶🏽 sorry so long and personal but i know you would write this so beautifully!!

thank u for requesting! dad!steve x mom!reader, 1.4k

“What do you want to get your sister for her birthday?” 

You can barely hear his whispering, let alone Avery’s response. “We want…” she’s lisping and listing, unfamiliar with her own voice even as her vocabulary grows, “to get her… um, a big teddy bear.” 

“How big?” Steve whispers back. 

You hold Bethie’s face above your shoulder, your arm around her, the other patting the base of her spine. She’s getting heavy, but she’s only little. She can barely speak, only mumble nonsense into your neck as she fights sleep. “Shh, shh,” you shush her gently. “It’s okay, Bethie.” 

Across the landing, Avery and Steve lay on their stomachs in her room. There’s a pad of paper between them and crayons spilled rainbow across the carpet. Steve draws without looking up; he’s a brilliant artist even now he doesn’t have time for it. Avery chokes a purple crayon with each of her fingers and draws a huge jagged line under his work. “What’s that?” he asks. 

“Lightning. I think we should get her a big teddy, like, big as your hands.” 

“That’s not big in terms of teddy bear, honey.” 

“Oh.” 

“What’s the lightning for?” 

“The cloud.” 

“You want me to draw some puddles?” 

She thinks Steve being able to draw things near immediately is as magical as the television, and the radio. Something seemingly out of nothing. She doesn’t understand how often he’d practise, didn’t see his box of sketchbooks, the hundreds of iterations of your face, your hands, the trees lining the street on the way to your first apartment, her baby wrinkles. 

“What else should we get for Beth?” 

“Um.” Avery pauses, lifting her face to Steve’s. An odd feeling swells when he immediately looks up from the paper pad to meet her eyes. He smiles at her. She smiles back. “Why are we smiling?” she asks eventually. 

“I’m just looking at you. You know you’re beautiful.” 

“I don’t know!” she says, immediately flustered. 

“Yes, you do. You’re sooo pretty, like mommy.” He reaches over to chuck her chin gently with his knuckle. “That’s why I’m smiling. Looking at you makes me happy.” 

“Looking at you makes me happy.” 

His chin tucks in gently. “It’s ‘cos we love each other.” 

“Yes,” Avery says, like she’d suggested it herself. “That’s what it is.” 

You feel Beth fall asleep though you can’t see her. She curls into you all warm and soft, her pyjamas and her hair tickling you, her soft snores damp against your shoulder. You press a kiss to her arm.

Laid to bed for the night, you dot another kiss onto Beth’s smooth forehead and turn out her light, shutting the door carefully so as not to make any noise. 

Avery and Steve are still on the floor, though she’s climbed over the pad to hug him. They look funny, both on their tummies, Steve’s long legs out. He’s sort of curling around her, his nose to the side of her neck, his one arm up on an elbow and the other behind her back. 

“I love you too,” he’s saying. 

“A lot.”

“Yeah, Avery. So much they don’t have a word for it.” 

“It’s a big feeling.” 

“Love is the biggest feeling.” 

She laughs as he starts to tip onto his side. One moment she’s on her belly and the next he’s pulled her onto his chest, totally corkscrewed her and then put her right. “Let’s stay here forever,” he says. 

You’re pretty sure your father would’ve had a heart attack rather than confess he liked you. It’s a weird thing to know you’re loved —to be told you’re loved without being told, to expect it because you should— but to feel the absence of it more strongly. Your father never would’ve laid down with you like that. He wouldn’t have kissed you behind the ear, or talked about big feelings without hesitation. He never looked after you like that. 

“Your back will hurt.”

“Avery, my back always hurts.” 

“Not good. You can go to the hospital.” 

“I don’t think I’ll go to hospital, I’ll,” —he feels you watching, and smiles at you as he tips his head to see you— “be okay without that. Maybe I’ll go to the doctor at his office instead.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” He rubs her back. “Thanks, honey.”

Later, after you’ve knelt down to draw with them for a while and Avery’s succumbed to the childhood pain of feeling sleepy, you’re sliding clean towels onto a shelf in the linen closet with Steve beside you choosing new sheets for the next two (or four depending on how busy things get) weeks. It’s not work that needs talking, and after a few years together you start to run out of things to say, but you decide you’ll fill it anyway. 

“Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

“You’re a good dad.”

Steve kisses your cheek, squeezing your arm as he bundles the new linens to his chest and passes back out of the closet. You follow him out. 

“Hey, I mean it,” you say. 

Steve looks at you in surprise. “Oh, sorry. That’s the miscommunication thing, right? I was supposed to say something, not just kiss you.” 

“No, I don’t need you to acknowledge me, Steve.” You laugh softly, “Just need you to know. You’re such a good dad. It means a lot to me that you’re so good because I know they can feel it. The girls.” You clear your throat. 

You hadn’t been expecting to get teary. Heat burns behind your eyes unbidden. 

Steve’s eyebrows jump. “You’re upset?” 

“It’s such a relief to know you’re you.” 

And Steve must understand how you feel about it, his parents stunningly absent for the majority of his teen years and even now. You don’t see them much, but when you do you’re greeted with handshakes and strange looks, like this is a blip in both of your lives. Like somehow your children will grow themselves and Steve can be the man they wanted him to be. He knows what it’s like to be alone and not enough. To miss the mark. To physically feel the space between you and the person who should love you most. 

He puts the linens on the end of the bed before standing in front of you. Your cheek is warm in his hand when he gives it a brief squeeze, your shoulder less so, your hand similarly cold. He threads your fingers together for a playful yank. “What are you thinking about?” he asks seriously. 

“Avery’s never gonna question if you love her.” 

He shakes his head. “Nope.” 

“You’re very emotionally mature.” 

“Wouldn’t say that.” 

“Me neither.” 

He looks tired tonight, hair falling into his eyes, t-shirt ill-fitting, rumpled at the hem, and his voice slightly scratchy as he murmurs, “Loving you makes me who I am, maybe you should be thanking yourself.” His lips twitch. “I should’ve said that at our wedding.” 

“You should’ve, I bet your mom would’ve cried.” 

“I doubt it.” 

He opens his arms invitingly, and you fall into one another for a quick, tight hug. You’d been expecting a longer embrace with a sweeter touch, but you know why he’s doing it this way: he doesn’t want to cry before bed, and the wound of your absent parents is a weary one. It’s taken too much time and energy from you both already. 

“Love you,” he says. 

You weasel your head back to take him in, savouring the stretch of his hands behind your shoulders and his genuine smile. “Biggest feeling in the world,” you say. 

“Liked that one?” he asks, encouraging your face back into his neck. “You gave me a family,” he adds, quieter, “I don’t really get how there are parents walking around who aren’t obsessed with their kids. I love them so much I can’t breathe sometimes. All i want is to make sure they know that… I was looking at Avery earlier and I couldn’t believe she was mine.”

“Steve.” 

“I think she has my two moles on her cheek. That’s crazy.” 

“What?” 

You and Steve creep into her bedroom to investigate. Sleeping, she’s his carbon copy, and sure enough, on her right cheek just adjacent to her lips, she has two small moles just like him. 

[sinofwriting]

Please, Oh Please - Max Verstappen (Part Two)

Words: 1,049 Summary: A direct continuation of Please, Oh Please that shows a few domestic moments between Max and her. Note(s): Just want to thank LB on ko-fi for this. They commissioned me to write this and I had such a fun time doing so.

Read Part One Here | Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

“You came over.” He watches as she yawns, eyes just barely opening for the first time this morning. “I came over.” The words are a mumble, not helped by the way she closes her eyes again and snuggles up to him. “You never come over.” She makes a humming noise and he nearly jolts at the way it tickles him. “Missed you. Apartment smells kind of like you. Missed you.” He holds her closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I missed you too.” “Yeah?” “Always, Schat. Always.”

The room goes quiet between them with only the sound of their breathing filling it, and Max can’t help but want this forever. It’s not a new want, hasn’t been for weeks, months, but it hits him again, all at once.

“I want you to move in.” His voice is quiet, just barely breaking the silence in the room. Her breathing stills. “What?” “I want you to stay here, to live here.” He turns his head a little to look at her, to look at those eyes that he loves. “I love you.” Her eyes widened. “I love you.” He repeats. “And I want to take care of you, to come home to you, to come back home with you.” “Max,” Her voice breaks. “Please?” He sits up a bit, making it easier for them to look at each other. “You have no idea what it meant to me last night. To come home and see that you have been here, to see you in bed, sleeping, waiting for me.” “Max.” She says again, stopping him as she sits up and her hands are framing his face. “I know how much it means.” Her dominant hand’s thumb strokes over his cheekbone. “I love you. I want to live here with you. To be here when you come home.” Her smile gentle and proud, turns a little bashful. “I want you to take care of me.”

—

Max fears the day that he grows used to this. Grows used to waking up with her in his arms, in his bed, or rather in bed with him considering the amount of traveling they do. It’s been five months since he came home to her, since he asked her to move in, to stay with him, five months since she said yes and he’s still getting used to it. Getting used to having her how he wants, how he had dreamed.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice thick from sleep breaks him out of his thoughts. “You.” She immediately presses her head into his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” She mumbles. “Okay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Wait.” He nearly laughs at the predictability of it. It's always went like this, he’d fluster her, she’d tell him to be quiet or to shut up, he’d say okay, and immediately she’d say wait, or don’t.

“I have the tournament tomorrow. I won’t be able to go shopping with you tomorrow.” She huffs out a laugh, lifting her head up. “I can go by myself, it’s only one or two bags.” “They’ll be heavy.” “It’s groceries, lovey. I can carry two bags of groceries.” He pouts, “Why don’t we go today?” “Because you promised me a whole day, just you and me, in the apartment, lazing about.” Max sighs, because he had promised that, even if it was normally how they spent their days together, they did have a trip with her friends planned in a few days and immediately after they’d be going to see his sister. Which meant for a solid week they wouldn’t really have time for just the two of them. “Will you at least take a car?” Her nose wrinkles but she nods. “I’ll take a car.”

—

“You have to stop leaving me your card.” “Card? What card?” He asks, waving at GP to go ahead of him. “Max.” She draws out his name a bit. “You know what card. It’s the card you think you're being sneaky about when you leave me with it.” He leans against the wall. “Oh, that card.” “Mhmm. That card.” “What about it?” “What about,” she stops, spluttering. “Max, I don’t need your black card.” “What if something happens?” “I’m getting on a flight to you in less than ten hours. You left just last night.” He shrugs, smiling as he adjusts the phone against his ear. “What if you want something?” “I’ll use the card that you gave to me, that’s in my name. Not your black card. Which you really shouldn’t be giving to people.” “I don’t give it to people, I give it to you.” His voice softens a bit on the last word. She sighs, “That’s very sweet, lovey.” “Mhmm.” “Still not using it.”

—

She grins up at him, whole face alight with excitement. “Hi race winner.” She greets, arms tightening a bit around him as mechanics and such move around the garage. “Hi liefje.” His arms wrap around her in turn, tucking her into him. “I’m so proud of you.” She murmurs against his chest covered by sweat soaked nomex. “So proud.” He rocks them a bit as he presses his lips to her hair. “Yeah?” “Of course.”

She pulls away a bit, mouth opening, and he knows that it’s to tell him to go shower quickly, before he really starts to smell, champagne and sweat unsurprisingly not making a good scent, but before she can, he presses their lips together. Interrupting their normal routine.

Her body tenses against his for a second, before it relaxes. The feeling makes him sigh, and one of his hands moves to cradle her face as the other grabs at her waist a little tighter, keeping her pressed against him.

“I love you so much.” He breathes when they pull apart. “I love you too.” Her soft, gentle smile turns a little playful as soon as she finishes the sentence. “Now go and take a shower, I have a private celebration for you.” His eyebrows raise, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Something I’ll like?” “Something you’ll love.” The promise makes it a bit hard to swallow and he’s quick to press another kiss to her lips. “Thirty minutes and we’ll be gone, yeah?” “Sounds perfect.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[repulsiveliquidation]

Fore!

Leah Williamson x Reader [Tooth-rotting, diabetes-causing sweet af fluff]

Leah meets the hottest golfer she’s ever seen.

word count : 2.3k, there will be more parts coming soon!

Based off of true events, I do play college-level golf and I thought it would be fun to incorporate that into a story!

“Come on Leah, our tee time is at ten fifty!” yelled Jacob from the living room. They had planned on playing some golf today, but Leah couldn’t pick an outfit out and was becoming frustrated. “Give me a minute you arse! We won’t be late!”

Finally deciding on something to wear, they headed to the Abbey Hill Golf Club (a/n this is a real course in Milton Keynes!) where they were just in time for their tee time. “What was it you were saying about not being late, sis?” Jacob quipped, earning a hard smack on the upside of his head for his mocking tone. “Shut it before I shove this club up somewhere you don’t want.” “Alright, alright, I’ll bring the cart around.” He answered with a laugh, walking over to the golf carts searching for the one with the number 6 on it.

“Just you then, Y/N/N? Right, you’re gonna have to pair up with those two then. The course is pretty full today, that’ll speed up play.”

“Right, thanks so much Greg!”

“You’re welcome, kid. I’ll give you a tenner if you beat your own course record!”

“I’ll hold you to that, Gregory!”

“Hello, I’m Y/N. Greg paired us up today, I hope that’s okay!”

Someone taps Leah’s shoulder and she swears time stopped. Standing before her is the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had the most beautiful smile and was dressed in the cutest golf outfit. She looked professional, like she knew what she was doing, not like herself.

“Um, are you alright?”

“What? Oh fuck, yes. Um, what did you say?”

You giggle at her flustered answer. “Fuck,” thought Leah, “I think that’s the cutest sound in the world.”

“I’m Y/N. Greg wanted us to play together since the tee times are full, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, not at all! My brother and I just came out to have a little fun but we’re not that good so I hope we don’t slow you down. You look like you play golf a lot. That’s a really cute shirt you have on, perfectly paired with those trousers. I really like your shoes too, mine are really beat up.” “I love you.”

You giggled again, amused by her rambling. “Don’t worry about it! I just came out to have a little fun but I did bet Greg ten pounds if I could beat the course record today so you’ll need to be witnesses.”

“Course record? Just how good are you?”

“I’ve played my fair share of golf. Between secondary school and college, I’d say I’m alright.”

If Leah had a ring, she’d be on one knee proposing to this girl right now. Jacob finally pulls up with the cart and starts to lock the bags to the back. Leah, in a split-second decision to abandon her precious baby brother, tells him he can have his own cart and that she’ll share with you.

“If that alright with you, of course.”

“Not at all; what’s your name again?”

“Shit, where are my manners? I’m Leah, that’s my brother Jacob. Jacob this is Y/N.”

“Hello Y/N, Greg set us up eh?”

“Yeah, I won’t be too much trouble!”

“You’re alright, just beat my sister and let her take you out, we’ll have a fantastic day.”

“Jacob, I swear–”

“See you two on the first tee!”

A deep blush creeps up Leah’s neck as she rummages in her bag for something she isn’t looking for. You smile fondly at the woman, finding her obvious nervousness extremely attractive; her brother’s request more of a hope than a dream now.

You hop into the driver’s seat, looking back at her still rummaging but now with added grumbling. “You ready, Leah?” you ask with an amused voice, her head popping up as she stood straight and smiled, walking to the passenger side and sat in the cart. You headed to the first tee, the course looking beautiful this time of year.

Jacob stood on the first tee with a cheeky smirk on his face, driver in hand. You park right behind him and get out, grabbing your glove and driver before walking up to him. Leah copies you, following quickly behind you.

“Leah normally plays the reds but I knew you’d come up here to the men’s tees.”

“The women’s tees are too short for me, I like a little challenge anyway.”

Leah, under the guise of stretching, listening intently to your conversation with her brother. It made her stomach do flips and fill with butterflies as you spoke so elegantly about golf. She knew it was the same way she did about football but there was something so hot about the way you spoke that made her heart want to jump out of her chest.

“Would you like to start us off, Jacob?”

“Yes! Then my sister can show off her swing to impress you before you undoubtedly bomb in perfectly down the fairway to show her how it’s done.”

Leah swears she nearly committed first degree murder right then and there. You let out a comical laugh, clutching your stomach as you watch Leah come over and smack her brother hard. He does eventually play his first shot, which isn’t bad, and it’s now Leah’s turn.

“Good luck!” you tell her, smiling softly. She blushes, setting up her shot way too much to the left out of nervousness.

“Leah, too much left darling. Come over a little.” You say nonchalantly, giving her a thumbs up when she corrects herself. Her brain has short-circuited, the pet name you used making her last two braincells abandon her. She manages a shot, ball going only about 50 meters before coming to a stop. You clap nonetheless, telling her it was a good shot. She blushes even harder when you give her a high five, walking over to the tee box to play your shot. Just as Jacob predicted, you hit a drive straight down the middle, flying way past both their balls.

“Wow, that was impressive.” “I love you.”

“Perfect, that was my intention. Come on, let’s get to yours.” You tell her, taking her hand and walking back to the cart. You get in and make your way to her ball. Her face held an expression of pure shock, staring at you with her perfect blue eyes. You could only smile shyly, your boldness was a surprise to everyone in the cart.

“You’ve got 215 meters, Leah.” You tell her as you approach her ball, pulling out your rangefinder and shooting the distance for her. You sat back into the cart and let her hit her ball. You knew she wasn’t going to get there with one shot but you always tried to make anyone you played with enjoy the sport regardless of their talent level so they didn't feel intimidated. Having been surrounded by coaches who made you resent golf while playing in college, you made it your mission to have people enjoy the sport; for golf to be a hobby and not a chore.

“Thanks, what should I play?” she asks, wanting your expert opinion she convinced herself; truthfully she just wanted to hear you talk about golf. “Well, how far does your 5 wood go?” “120 meters if I don’t waffle it.” “Ha! Wonderful, use that.” “I love you.”

She does, in fact, waffle it. But she laughs it off and tries again. This time she does hit it good and it lands beside the green. “Yes Leah, that was great!” you give her another high five and see Jacob already by your ball.

“100 perfect meters. You hit that drive a long way down here.”

“Thanks Jacob, this is one of my longest ones on this hole I think.”

“Which club do you want?” Leah asks, wanting to return the favor. “Pitching wedge please.” you tell her, grabbing it from her and playing your shot. It flies past the hole a little, leaving you with 15 feet for birdie. You smile and wave a little as they impressively clap. Jacob catches the lovesick glint in his sisters eyes as she watches you like you're the only person in the world.

“You’re a goner, aren’t ya?”

“Hook, line and sinker Jacob.” “I love you.”

The three of you spend the next 4 hours playing the most fun round you’ve had in a while. Leah ends up playing a 102, Jacob was better with a 95 and you won ten pounds from Greg after posting a course record of 63.

She was a little sad that the round was over, packing her bag much slower than was necessary. She didn’t see that you were doing the same. Jacob said goodbye and left, winking at her and teasing her. She shoved him and smiled happily, nervous about not wanting the day to end. You had just about plucked up the courage to ask her out when you stood and there she was, almost as surprised as you were.

“Uh, fuck. I was j-just wondering if you would w-want a drink or something.”

“Depends, would that mean that it’s a date?”

“Only if you wanted it to be.”

“I would love nothing more. Well, you eventually but, we’ll see.”

//

“You’re WHO?!”

“You saying you didn’t recognize me?”

“I hate that I have a feeling you’re more amused than offended that I don’t know THE Leah Williamson.”

“It’s honestly refreshing.”

You laugh as arrive at your car. You wordlessly grab both golf bags and pack them into your boot. You close it and smile at her standing there, hands shoved into her pockets as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

“How about a little lunch? I know a pretty good café I think you’d like.” She nervously suggests, somewhat scared that you would say no.

“I’d love that, Leah. Quit being so nervous, I don’t bite.”

//

“Could I do the cranberry and chicken wrap please? Maybe an iced latte to go with that too, please.”

“Make that two. I’ll pay.”

“Leah, I couldn’t let you do that.”

“It’s a date remember? I asked, I pay.”

“What a gentlewoman, you are. Makes a girl weak in the knees, you know.”

“I’ll catch you doll, don’t worry.”

Leah doesn’t think she’s ever been able to talk to anyone the same way she could with you. You were the perfect listener; attentive and engaged. You also spoke so eloquently and had the best jokes she’s ever heard. It’s not till the café owner comes over at 7PM to let you both know that they were closing did you realize the time.

You both walk hand in hand down the streets of late-night Milton Keynes. Leah insists on getting ice cream, beating you again at handing over money to pay. You both settle on a bench at a nearby park and enjoy the cold dessert. Your hands don’t leave each other’s, her thumb softly brushing over your knuckles.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Y/N. I don’t think I would be able to sleep tonight if I didn’t tell you.” She blurts out suddenly and it sends a dark blush up your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I lied, of course I knew who you were. How could anyone not? I was fangirling so hard but I had to keep my cool so I didn’t scare you. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the best lie anyone has ever told me.”

You continued to eat your ice cream, sitting closer to her as your laced fingers sat in your lap. Ice cream cones now finished you both just enjoyed the cool Milton Keynes night.

“Are you from here?” Leah asks as she mindlessly plays with your fingers. “Yeah, but we moved around a lot as kids because of my dad’s job. I moved back here for secondary school but went to the US for college.”

“A great friend of mine studied in the US while playing sports too.”

“Alessia? I’ve met her, she signed my jersey one time.”

“Signed–which game did you come to?!”

“I was at the Euro’s last year. Loved watching the final, I had a sore throat for a week from all the shouting. I had just come back from graduating so I thought I’d enjoy a little soccer.”

“It’s football, love.”

You laugh and lean your head on her shoulder as she takes the opportunity to slip her arm around your shoulder. You don’t protest, leaning into her. She smiles wide, grabbing your hand to hold with her other. It was past 11PM, both of you walking to your car begrudgingly at the reality of a perfect date coming to a close. You get in and suddenly have a burst of confidence. You lean in and to your surprise, she does too. Your lips meet and it's like fireworks. Her lips mold to yours perfectly, tongues swiping and tangling like a practiced tango. You pull away first, hand cupping her beautiful face and stroking her cheekbone.

“I don’t want it to end.”

“Then don’t let it.”

“Stay the night?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[ichorai]

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 

Or was it? 

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 

“Sandy?” 

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.” 

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

[mellaithwen]

To hum and sway (bucktommy, 1.4k words)

[read on ao3]

Spoilers/Spec-fic for 7x06 "There Goes The Groom" After the wedding that wasn’t, and the wedding that was, after the search, and the rescue, and the drama of the day, Buck finds himself sitting in the hospital waiting room when Tommy turns up...

Now that Chimney’s been moved out of the ICU, the hospital staff have kindly set up a cot bed in his room for Maddie to get some rest beside him, while Buck stands—or rather–-sits sentry outside. While his sister clearly couldn’t have predicted she’d be reading out her vows standing between a heart-rate monitor and an IV stand, Buck’s just glad she was able to read them out to Chim at all.

A nurse shuffles past Buck down the corridor, and he pulls his legs back from where they’d been obnoxiously extended in his late-night exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the bright fluorescent lights of the waiting room before stretching his neck and shoulders until he hears a satisfying pop.

His hands clench into tight fists on either side of the chair he’s sat in, and he grips them tightly until his knuckles are white and the pain of his own nails digging into the flesh of his palms is enough to distract the guilt spiral he’s been fending off all day.

Maddie and Chimney will get their big-day. Buck will make sure of it. They’ll have the party that they rightly deserve, surrounded by their friends and family. A happy day, a calm day. The quiet, intimate ceremony in their own back garden that they’d wanted all along before losing track of the guestlist. 

But that would be later. When they were both ready, and recovered. At least for now they got to wear the rings. At least they got to call each other husband and wife. 

Finally. 

“Evan?” Buck’s head shoots up from where he’d been lying back, leaning his heavy head against the wall. 

There were so few people who called him by his given name nowadays...

His parents had long since left to do what they referred to as “damage control” with the guests and venue—since the rest of the 118 were more concerned with Maddie and Chimney than appeasing distant relatives who had traveled just so gosh darn far, Evan. 

He’d corrected Bobby almost instantly on that first day so many years ago, that his name was Buck, and besides, his captain was currently driving Mr and Mrs Lee back home for the evening after spending so many hours in the same holding pattern of he’s stable—that’s the main thing—until Chimney had finally woken up and insisted with a raspy voice, that his Captain marry he and Maddie right then, right now...

And Eddie? Eddie had only ever called him Evan the once. 

(Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t think about that moment often…)

But no, it wasn’t him either; Eddie was with Hen, roaming the corridors for a vending machine that worked until Bobby came back to bully them all into finally getting into his truck and going home. So that just left…

“Tommy? W-what are you—?”

“I came as soon as I heard he’d been found. How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?”

Buck’s brain struggles to keep up, his software in need of an update—Tommy’s here, standing in front of him. In the hospital corridor. Buck’s phone was god knows where, and with Chimney missing and his sister losing her mind with worry, he hadn’t had a chance to think about the fact he’d accidentally ghosted his date. But here he was. Standing in front of Buck like a guardian angel who’d done more than his own fair share to help in the search—all the while still wearing the clothes he’d put on as Buck’s plus one to the wedding that never happened that morning.

This is probably the closest thing to flustered he’s seen Tommy look the whole time he’s known him, and if the circumstances were different Buck thinks he would have found it endearing—but his head’s too much of a mess to even go there right now. The soft blue shirt he’s wearing is rumpled now but Buck just knows it would have been pressed and clean to start with. The slacks and matching suit jacket are both a wooly kind of mauve. Buck thinks it would have been nice to press up against the material as they slow-danced at the end of the evening. The lights would be dimmed, while the wedding band played something slow. He wonders if his parents would have noticed. He finds he also doesn’t really care.

He remembers Maddie and Chimney’s kiss under a symphony of high-pitched beeps, and the mumbled static of a tannoy announcement requesting a doctor’s presence in triage. Jee had clapped her hands in Mrs Lee’s arms before pretending to throw invisible flowers in the air just like she’d practiced with her uncle Buck.

How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?

“They’re—” Buck falters when he finally answers, genuinely unsure in the grand scheme of things. If he were to answer literally, he’d say they were sleeping. But emotionally? Physically?  

“They’re…”

Chimney’s in the hospital. Maddie almost lost him again, and if Buck looks down, he knows he’ll find that there’s still patches of dried blood on the sleeves of his ruined pink jacket—remnants of the day, along with the pounding behind his eyes that he just can’t seem to shake. 

Tell Maddie—

No, no Chim, don’t you dare make me do that, you can tell her yourself, okay? Just stay with me. Eddie’s gone to get help and Maddie’s waiting for you to come home— 

“They’re married!” Buck finishes with a laugh that’s incredulous only so far as the circumstances of the last twenty four hours have made him seriously question his own sanity. Or maybe that’s just the last dregs of adrenaline leaving his head in a spin.

“Bobby performed the ceremony, but Chimney wore the white-gown this time.”

He’s deflecting. He’s searching for humor, for the laugh to be had at the absurdity of it all. He’s the class clown disrupting the other kids because he didn’t hear what the teacher said and he’s trying not to panic. He’s overcompensating at the academy because he has no support system to speak of in LA, and he needs this. He wants this. He can’t flunk out. He can’t fail.

He’s pushing and pushing and pushing to see where the boundary lies, to see how far he can go before he disappoints the family he’s found at the 118. He wants to know where that line in the sand is. How long until the tide comes in? How long until he drowns?

He’s….. he’s exhausted. And when Tommy tilts his head to the side and frowns, reading Buck like an open book of sad tells, suddenly the effort to keep the mask in place is too much. His shoulders slump and Buck’s whole body hunches forward with the weight of the day pressing down on him—only to find Tommy’s arms there ready to catch him when he falls. 

“He nearly died,” Buck whispers into the crook of Tommy’s neck as he’s embraced. “Chim nearly died and if we hadn’t found him when we did….” 

His voice cracks, the words seemingly too painful to even speak into the universe. Buck can’t bear to say more, and Tommy doesn’t ask him to either, he just pulls him in closer, squeezes him that little bit tighter, and holds him there for as long as he needs. He brings his hand up to the back of Buck’s neck, gently kneads at the knot he finds there. Cradles him like he’s something precious and deserving when for so long he’s convinced himself of the opposite.

After a time, when Buck’s breathing starts to even out, the hitch in his chest seemingly dissolved into the atmosphere, and the shock has thawed enough for him to feel the soft material of Tommy’s jacket under his fingertips, he finds that Tommy has been slowly moving their bodies into a sway. Leading, just a little bit—really they’re barely moving at all—but if Buck pretends, he thinks he can hear music playing. 

“You said you wanted to dance,” Tommy says; answering the question Buck hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask yet. For the first time in hours, Buck’s mind goes quiet.

“Thank you,” he whispers a little self-consciously when the words catch in his throat. 

Thank you for coming, thank you for holding me, thank you for being here with no judgment and no expectations. Thank you for caring when we barely even know each other. Thank you for treating me kindly, for being gentle and soft when all day I’ve felt like I was being strangled with barbed wire. Thank you. 

When Tommy hums in response, Buck can’t help but lean into the embrace, finding solace in his arms. He can feel the warmth of his breath drifting along the side of his neck, soothing the goosebumps that reside there. 

And when he presses a soft kiss on the stubble of Tommy’s jaw, it tickles.

-fin.

[aihaitahm]

Could I request some stellaron hunter dating habit headcanons! (Stealings sweaters, always paying for dinner, ect.)

stellaron hunters and their dating habits!

characters: blade + kafka! sorry idrk the other stellaron hunters as much </3

gn! reader. hope algorithm doesnt fuck me up😭

kafka

loves pda and being seen in public with you. if your a bit shy, she would try to tone it down but she couldnt help herself, youre just too cute. clings to you when in bed especially if there has to be work done. would lay on top of you to stop you from getting up.

would spoil you with so much gifts. oh her baby wants something? she would get it for you right away. in return, she loves your gifts very much and would display or wear them at all times.

the type to hide behind doors and try to scare you. if you get scared easily, she would just hug and apologize even though its a bit funny. if you dont, she’d just laugh it off. “aw come on, it was a bit scary at least?”

when you both argue, she would give both of you space and reevaluate what happened. she knows how she can get extremely sarcastic and can be hurtful with her words. after it subsides, she makes sure she apologizes for whatever shes done and makes up for it.

not jealous but would keep her eye on people who try to actively flirt with you. would literally kiss you in front of them to prove a point, with a smug expression on her face. “im so lucky to have them. arent you jealous? well eat your heart out.”

blade

when he discovered this attraction for you, he tried to actively avoid you in hopes it would stop. well he was wrong. he was more inclined to look for you and kafka had to literally push him to pursue you. or if you pursue him, he would stop working and just be flustered.

he isnt sure how to express his feelings so he tends to give you little trinkets and gifts from his missions. he loves your smile and your appreciation when he gets you something. he tends to run his hand through his bangs because he so nervous around you. whenever he holds your hand or he feels your presence, he cant help but blush. he also has a habit of staring at you. even when you catch him staring, he doesnt care and would still stare.

kisses at first scared him but he kisses you intensely and thats how you know he really loves you. it is full of fire and compassion. makeouts with him are so intense because it is balled up love that he cant express properly. would tease you for getting shy.

he tends to get flustered because he wants to make you happy but relationships are not his best thing so he tends to ask kafka or his other companions on advice much to his dismay. he is smart its just the execution can be hard for someone like him.

when he gets used to it, he would be more open to hugs and headpats. oh he loves your touch so much. when you aid him after battles, he instantly feels peace and relaxes. you give him so much comfort and he never realized it until its with you. he tends to express his i love yous and such whenever you’re healing him.

[pjoxreader]

PJO Cuddle Headcanons

Leo Valdez

-This man needs his snuggles, he works hard and needs a break. -He often gets so absorbed in his work that he could forget things like eating…

-He isn’t good at picking up subtle hints, you have to go over and sit down in his lap cuddling up into him.

-He goes bright red, sure he’s a flirt but he’d never thought he would make it this far. His hands would wrap right around your waist as he feels the stress melt away “Hello there~”

-Bring him snacks or just talk about your day, he’ll enjoy hearing you talk about anything and everything honestly as long as you two were together.

- He’ll have a clock made to keep track of time so he can make sure he’s able to take a break to snuggle with you.

Frank Zhang

- He likes to cuddle when you two are falling asleep. 

-He just gets so flustered anytime you two cuddle up in public that he can’t really relax and enjoy the moment. 

-Of course you do it sometimes anyway, just to see him get all flustered.

-His favorite position is to be the big spoon as he holds you close to his chest. It makes him feel like he’s able to protect you, even when asleep.

-Sleepy morning snuggles are also a bonus. He'll play with your hair and smile, lovingly watching your sleeping face.

-He wakes up early to ensure the two of you have a little extra time for snuggling. 

Percy Jackson

-He loves to cuddle you from behind, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your shoulder.

-He’s so stressed sometimes that he doesn’t even want to talk about it, he just wants to be there with you.

-If he had an overwhelming day he’ll just come up right behind you, no matter what you’re doing and cuddle right into your shoulder.

-People had to get used to it seeing as he’d come over even if you were mid conversation. 

-Honestly you love it too, it’s just so calming to know that he’s right there with you.

- You know he’ll open up when he’s ready, but sometimes he just has to sort out his thoughts and feelings. 

Annabeth Chase

-Annabeth isn’t really one for ‘snuggling’ she finds it gets too hot and uncomfortable, not only that her mind can’t really stop and take a break.

-So she’ll lean against you while working on her laptop, just shoulder to shoulder while you read a book.

-The silence is peaceful, it’s a silent way of letting each other know that you’re there and that you care.

-You’d both have a coffee while you work on whatever you need too, only chatting if you needed help with something. 

-You two don’t need any words at that moment, just enjoying the peaceful silence and each other's presence.

-She’d never admit it, but she loves those moments the most. 

Hazel Levesque

-She loves to hug and just stay like that for a while, enjoying each other's presence and warmth.

-It’ll start as an excited hug, the two of you laughing like kids and then it’ll melt into a comfortable hold. 

-It’s a subtle competition between the two of you on who would let go first. 

-Most often she’s the one who wins as she can be stubborn when she puts her mind to it.

-It’s just a nice moment between the two of you enjoying the calm of each other's arms, for once in your lives feeling safe…

-As a demi-god that’s something rare and beautiful and you both know it. 

Jason Grace

- Just hold him to your chest somewhere private. 

-He works so hard that he often forgets to take a break for himself. He’s so focused on the expectations people have for him that he forgets to take care of himself.

-But when he’s in your arms listening to your heartbeat he soothes for once, not thinking about what he still had left to do.

-No matter how long you two have been dating he’ll thank you for taking the time to help him take a moment.

-Rub gentle circles onto his back and he may even fall asleep right there, like a giant weighted blanket.

-Even just that small break with you gets his energy back, it’s like you help recharge him. 

Piper Mclean

-She’ll sit in your lap while she’s working on something.

-You often find yourself helping braid her hair, well trying to practice. She tried to teach you but it isn’t exactly easy.

-It’s a peaceful domestic moment that she wouldn’t change for the world, even if her braid does come out pretty messy.

-She’ll still wear it though no matter how bad it is, she wants to show off your hard work!

-It’s embarrassingly obvious who did her hair that day but you can’t help but enjoy it.

-She likes it and that’s enough for you… 

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[fan-fantasies]

Jealousy and Dreams (part two)

A/N: thank you so much for the fantastic response to the first part! The ending on this one sucks but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: jealousy, oral (f receiving obvi), fingering, swearing probably

Part one

Rhea was sleeping peacefully when she felt you moving against her. You pressed your ass further into her hips as you squirmed.

“Mm-more,” you mumbled.

Rhea’s eyes shot open.

She looked at you sleeping next to her, a small sheen of sweat covering you.

“Please,” you whimpered. She looked over to Damian in a panic, not wanting him to hear you. But he was a heavy sleeper and didn’t even stir.

Rhea wasn’t sure if she should wake you or just let you…finish. She placed a hand on your shoulder with every intention of giving you a gentle shake.

“Oh Rhea,” you sighed.

She froze.

She definitely couldn’t wake you now; that would be too awkward. Or would it? You wanted her to some extent and she wanted you so maybe it would work in her favor.

Before she could think on it further, Damian let out a loud snore that seemed to scare you out of your dream and back into a deep sleep.

Rhea just laid there, staring at the ceiling with a smile on her face.

Morning came much to soon and you woke up feeling hot, thanks to the Australian beekcake that was pressed up against you, holding you tightly against her.

You were sure your heart pounding in your chest would wake her.

You stirred a little trying to get more comfortable, but Damian was already awake and once he saw you were too, he clapped his hands together loudly.

“Finally!” He yelled.

“Why are you still here?” Rhea groaned, rubbing her eyes. She was hoping for some privacy this morning.

“Because we’re getting breakfast before the flight. Let’s go, ya lazy bums,” he chuckled. Why did he have to be such a morning person?

“Good morning,” Rhea said to you, shooting you a smile.

“Morning; how’d you sleep?” You asked, sliding from the bed to get ready for the day.

“Ya know, I actually had the craziest dream with you in it,” Rhea told you, waiting for your reaction. You paused, waiting for her to continue.

“What was it about?” You asked hesitantly, your own dream flashing back into your mind. She got out of bed and stood behind you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she whispered in your ear before laughing. She sauntered into the bathroom, leaving you flustered. What has gotten into that woman?

You met up with some other folks to grab breakfast before a quick flight. They could all tell you were on edge about something and Rhea made sure to stick to you like glue which definitely wasn’t helping the situation. You felt like you were going to explode.

“You okay, gorgeous?” Rhea asked, plopping down into the seat next to you on the flight.

“I thought Finn was sitting with me this time?”

“He asked to switch, is that okay?”

“Oh yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t it be?” You laughed nervously.

“Just wanted to make sure,” she said, giving your thigh a squeeze. You thought she’d remove it once she was done, but she left it there which had your heart racing.

Thankfully the flight was a short one and the drive to the venue for the live show was even quicker.

For live shows, you got to do your own hair and makeup so you did something simple You liked the live shows; there was less pressure and there could be more fan interaction. You’d usually chat with the fans sitting behind your chair and tonight’s crowd was particularly chatty.

You could tell the young man behind you was attempting to flirt with you. You did your best to remain friendly and professional. He wasn’t bad looking and was actually quite funny, but there was only one person on your mind.

And that person also noticed that your new friend was flirting with you. She had her own match against Natalya and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. Every time she saw the man lean over and say something to you, making you smile, she’d slam Nattie a little harder.

The assault was short, Rhea pinning her in her favorite style all while maintaining eye contact with you. Heat rushed to your face as you announced her as the winner. She blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch.

Rhea remained ringside for the next match which was Dom versus Ali. She did her best to focus on the match but she couldn’t help but watch as the man behind you wouldn’t leave you alone. Finally, having enough, she stomped over and grabbed your chair.

“Back off, she’s Mami’s girl,” she snapped, lifting you and your chair and moving you away from him.

“Rhea,” you shrieked as she finally set you down.

“Stay put, sweetheart,” she whispered, leaning down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. The crowd was whooping and hollering at her display. You certainly didn’t mind, you just couldn’t tell if it was all for show or not.

Dom ended up winning his match and thankfully it was the final one. You had a lot of feelings to sort through and you didn’t feel like doing it in front of thousands of people.

You went backstage to grab your stuff but ran into Damian before you could reach it.

“Hey! Great job tonight,” he complimented.

“Thank you! I’m exhausted though so I’m gonna go grab my stuff and find a ride to the hotel.”

He turned around and grabbed something from behind him. He turned back around, already holding your stuff.

“I saw it sitting there and figured I’d bring it to you,” he said.

“Oh my god, thank you! You’re a life saver,” you sighed happily, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Do you wanna share a ride back to the hotel? I have one on the way,” he offered.

Before you could answer, you were being lifted off the ground and hauled away.

“She already has a ride!” Rhea called behind her as she carried you off toward the locker room.

“Rhea! Put me down!”

“No, because the second I do, you’re gonna run off and find someone else to flirt with,” she snapped.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. She finally put you down when you got to the empty locker room, most people already on their way to their hotel.

“Damian, Sonya, that random ass guy in the crowd. I swear, you flirt with everyone but me!” She admitted.

“Do you…want me to flirt with you?”

“I’d just like it if you wouldn’t flirt with everyone else.”

“First off, I don’t even know how to flirt. Second, I haven’t been flirting with anyone! And third, even if I was, what’s it matter to anyone else?” You asked. She took a long step toward you, backing you against the wall.

“It matters because you’re mine,” she growled.

“Says who?” You challenged. She thought for a moment before smirking.

“Says you, in your sleep actually. Moaning my name like the desperate little thing you are,” she chuckled. She ran a finger down your cheek and down your neck, making you shiver.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? So you’re telling me you haven’t been dreaming about me the last few nights? Tell me, what was I doing to you in those dreams?” She said, leaning in closer.

“Time to go, ladies! Cars are here!” Someone yelled into the locker room. Rhea’s intense stare never left you as she backed away.

“Ride’s here,” she smirked.

Rhea insisted on sitting next to you and it made you feel like your skin was on fire. She knew about the dreams and she was toying with you, you just didn’t know how far she was planning on going with it.

You couldn’t possibly tell her your fantasies. But what if she could make them come true?

“You look like you’re gonna think yourself into a spiral. Calm down, gorgeous,” she said, grabbing your hands that were fidgeting in your lap. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah that’s the problem,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“No speak up. Do I make you nervous?” She asked, leaning in closer.

“No.” You refused to make eye contact with her so she lifted your chin.

“Don’t lie to me. Do. I. Make. You. Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Do I make your heart race?” She placed a soft kiss on your cheek, quickly pressing another one just below your ear.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, now you know how you make me feel,” she said, pulling away, but still holding your hand.

The driver parked in front of the hotel and you quickly got out, pulling your things from the trunk. Rhea grabbed your bag and carried it with her own which you were grateful for and it was a momentary break from all that had been happening. This was still your sweet Rhea who you cared for, she was just a bit more intimidating now.

She grabbed the key from front desk and led you to the elevator. The tension could be cut with a spoon. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t even know what to say if you wanted to.

You knew what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell her to ravage you and make all of your dreams come true. You couldn’t ignore the aching between your legs any longer. You needed relief and you hoped Rhea wasn’t just teasing and would actually deliver.

Once in your room, you placed your things down and paused for a moment, just to take a deep breath. When you turned around, you jumped slightly, not expecting Rhea to be right behind you.

Before you could say anything, she pulled you closer and pressed her lips to yours. Her tongue swiped your bottom lip before you granted her access to your mouth.

“It drives me insane when I have to watch everyone flirt with you,” she said, easily lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. “Everyone needs to know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I swear,” you moaned as Rhea left love bites across your neck. The makeup department was going to hate you after this.

“Tell me about your dreams,” she said, her hands roaming every inch of your body.

“Fuck, it was kinda like this, except with less clothes.”

“I can fix that,” she smirked. She grabbed your top and lifted it over your head. Hers was next to follow as you shimmied out of your pants. “Then what?”

“You went down on me and after you made me cum, you rode my face,” you admitted, too much in the moment to care.

“Is that so? You want me to sit on that pretty face?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“All in due time,” she chuckled.

She slid your panties down your legs, leaving you bare in front of her. She kissed her way down your body, licking and biting every inch that she could.

She bit particularly hard on your thigh, making you yelp. She just chuckled as she looked up at you through her lashes.

“I hope you’re ready, baby.”

Her head dove straight down to where you had been craving her the most. Her tongue ring nudged your clit just right, making you jump with pleasure. She teased your entrance before dipping her tongue in, fucking you quickly with it.

She picked up speed as she circled your clit, making you throw your head back against the pillows. She stopped her motions causing you to whine.

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you come undone,” she demanded.

You did your best to look at her, focusing on the pleasure she was giving you. She slid a finger through your folds before plunging into you. She quickly added a second one, thrusting them into you and hitting your spot just right. Her tongue resumed its assault on your clit and it all became too much.

You reached out and grabbed a hold of her hair, holding her in place while you moved your hips to meet the movements of her fingers. You quickly reached your peak, riding your orgasm out against her tongue. She couldn’t help but moan at the taste of you cumming.

“Mami’s turn,” she said, looking at you with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

She removed her pants and underwear quickly before climbing on top of you. You made yourself comfortable as she lowered herself onto your face. She held the headboard to steady herself and began to rock herself back and forth, your tongue happily lapping at her pussy.

The noises falling from her lips were sinful; you could listen to them forever. You did your best to keep your tongue steady against her clit as she fucked your face.

She tasted divine and you knew you could never go back to being just friends after this. You were going to crave her day and night, as if you hadn’t before.

“Fuck, just like that baby. Gonna make Mami cum,” she sighed happily. Her movements sped up until she was using you for her pleasure and you loved every minute of it. Her grip on the headboard tightened before she was cumming on your face. Your name was said like a prayer as she finally came down from her high.

She removed herself from above you and quickly pulled you in for a kiss full of tongue and teeth. She finally slowed down a bit so the two of you could catch your breath.

“Just in case it wasn’t clear, you’re mine now,” she growled, giving you one more slow kiss.

“I promise I’m all yours.”

“So did I make your dreams come true?” She chuckled.

“I think the real thing was even better,” you laughed.

“Just think? Hm, sounds like I didn’t do a good enough job,” she said, making her way down your body once more.

“Rhea, what-“ you were cut off by your own moan as she pushed your legs apart and began eating you out like a starved man once more.

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby. This whole hotel is gonna know who you belong to by the time I’m done with you.”

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 10

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s daughter - Angst - Fluff

The final chapter is here! Thank you to everyone who has read this series. There will be an epilogue coming soon as well.

Part 9 Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, sexual references, restraint and use of dagger (not as dark as it sounds, no pain involved), referenced alcohol/drunkenness, smitten Eris is sexy as hell

“You.” Y/N pointed a finger into Eris’ chest, her shadows whirling violently into a vortex surrounding her. She stepped closer, digging the finger further into his chest. “Are. Insufferable.”

Eris only smirked and honestly- he wasn’t sure if it made him a pathetic male but he didn’t know whether to feel sad, aroused, or enamored. He suspected he was somewhere in the middle of all three.

That vicious little scowl. Those delicate hands he knew the feeling of so well, how her fingers spent so many nights tracing along every indention of his body, as if it were an extension of her own. There was a thrill that came with knowing they were just as capable of violence. Perhaps he should have been afraid, he so often forgot just how she so quickly raised in the rankings of the Night Court - and it wasn’t because of who her father was. No, she’d earned it all on her own merit.

It made her all the more enticing.

“What?” She withdrew her finger, crossing her arms and cocking her head in a predatory manner. Gods, she was delicious.

He was a lech and desperately needed to sober up before this conversation was to be had.

Eris ran his fingers through his hair, tussling his auburn locks in a way that, though he was too disheveled to notice, had his mate’s pulse thrumming with desire.

Stumbling slightly, Eris held up a single finger in front of her, with a request of, “Please hold.” as if that would stave off the impending shitstorm she was about to throw at him.

To his surprise, one her eyebrow only flicked upward with amusement as she took a stride backward, gesturing with a wave. “It’s not like I have anywhere to be, Eris. By all means.”

Fumbling to the corner kitchenette in his apartment, Eris reached for a tonic on the top shelf, extending one to Y/N in silent offering, to which she bitterly remarked, “If anything, I need more alcohol to get through this, not a sobering tonic.”

Eris understood, truly he did, but he also was not about to discuss this with her under the influence of alcohol. His feelings for her were not fleeting, they did not come from lowered inhibitions, they did not even come from their bond, they came from his heart. And oh no, he wasn’t about to let her hear him pour his heart out just for his lovely mate to feign that she couldn’t remember due to however many bottles of wine she and Layla had consumed earlier in the evening - if the vineyard aroma pouring from her every breath was any inclination to her state of sobriety.

Leaving his arm extended, Eris gave the tonic a little shake. Y/N let out a flustered sigh, swiping the tonic from him and throwing it back like a shot of liquor.

“Good girl.” He smirked.

“Don’t start with me.” She spoke coldly, that scowl again returning to her lovely face.

That glare. Those narrowed golden-flecked eyes, the purse of her plush lips. Gods, she really did it for him and she had no idea. He didn’t know if he’d ever get enough of it. For every mask of irreverence he’d ever been forced to wear, she dropped hers for him. Sure, she’d placed hers in specific circumstances but this - this prickly, headstrong, determined female didn’t try to win him with flattery or simpering, least of all faux niceties.

No, any glimpse of feeling he caught from her, that was real. It was all her. It always had been. And tonight, the mask he’d so long worn to protect her from him, or he from her, at this point he wasn’t sure which it was - tonight the mask would drop. The truth of their bond was out, there was no more holding back, no more distancing, no more skirting around webs of half-truths. She wanted all of him? He’d give it all.

Eris raised a groomed eyebrow back in his mate’s direction. “Are you going to scowl at me all night or would you like to work things out?”

He beamed internally at the sight of those rolling eyes, her hand placed on a cocked out hip as she let out a huff of annoyance. “As I said, insufferable.”

He only gave a wry smirk in return, stoking the fire within his own mate further.

“Stop smirking at me, Eris. This isn’t amusing.”

Eris took a step toward her, leaning down to only centimeters from her face, grin widening, his voice turning low, seductive. “Come on, little Shadowsinger. Wipe this smirk off my face.”

With that shadows flew at him with all their force, hauling him off his feet and back into a chair at the small dining table fifteen feet away.

Shock crossed his features, smirk faltering momentarily at the sheer force.

He’d been restrained by her shadows many times before but had never seen their full potential. Testing the bonds binding his wrists behind the back of the chair and the ones tying his ankles to the legs of it he realized just how truly stuck he was.

And he wasn’t quite sure whether to be aroused or nervous.

He was somewhere between the two.

She sauntered toward him, hips swishing with each movement, heels clacking on the floor with each slow step. That skin tight dress only amplifying the sway of her curves. Stopping half way toward him, she spirited a dagger from the pocket realm - a dagger he’d gifted her during one of their escapades.

He’d told her it was just laying around and he had no use for it - but truly he’d had the piece forged for her with protective enchantments that would alert him should she ever be in a situation she couldn’t get herself out of.

Death by his own mate, at the tip of the dagger he’d given her. If it brought her a few steps closer to him, it didn’t seem like such a bad way to go.

Though he knew she would never bring him harm.

The click of her heels on the floor continued as she closed the remaining distance, leaning in. Eris’ heart raced at the pure submission of his position, pupils dilated.

Aroused it was. How could he be nervous with her this close. Yes, it was definitely arousal.

She leaned in, her warm breath caressing the shell of his ear. “Where’s that smirk now, High Lord?”

A thrill rushed through him. “Do you like it, little Shadowsinger? Having the High Lord of Autumn completely at your will? I’ll burn the world for you, should you only ask.”

She pulled back, wildfire sparking in her eyes for a moment. He didn’t miss the shift in her scent. She inhaled, eyes fluttering shut, that gleam in her eyes banking.

“What I want, Eris Vanserra, is the truth.” She stepped forward, the tip of her dagger dragging down his chest, lower, dancing a little too closely for comfort to his favorite appendage before skirting around the area and down his thigh.

Giving a faux pout, she crooned, “I’d hate to ruin this fancy get up of yours, I know how you love your finery.”

Eris swallowed, “I do.” His gaze met hers with utter sincerity, allowing her to see the truth in his amber eyes. “And you’re the finest I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

She waived his words off. “You love me?”

Eris didn’t balk. “I’m not sure there’s a word to describe what I feel for you, Y/N, but love is a good place to start.”

A slight whimper left her at the admission. She’d heard him say it in that moment she winnowed away from the gallery earlier that night but this, the look in those eyes, the intention in his tone. She knew he meant it.

Eris started at the quick withdrawal of her shadows unpinning him to the chair. He remained seated waiting for her next movement. He didn’t need the force of her shadows to be completely at her will.

And so he waited, heart rate elevating slightly in anticipation. She dropped the dagger, straddling his lap, Eris nearly coming undone by the feel of her warmth against him. Gently resting a palm to the defined edge of his jaw and tilting his face toward hers, she whispered, “tell me everything.”

Eris stood, resting his hands beneath her thighs, keeping her pressed close to him. Bringing her to a chaise in the seating area, he seated himself, positioning her bridal style in his arms. She didn’t fight, remaining pliant in his arms, she looked to him and he nearly fell apart at the look in her eyes. Uncertainty lay there, but something more, a look he’d given her so many times when she was sound asleep, safe in his bed.

Adoration.

He would not squander this opportunity to share his feelings, to give her the answers she had asked him repeatedly for.

He tucked her head into his shoulder, one hand wrapped around her thigh, his thumb running up and down the exposed flesh beneath her slightly hitched gown.

The crook of his other arm cradled her neck as he ran soothing strokes through her raven-black hair.

And so he began, he told her of the night he’d found her, how he’d been mesmerized by the way she held her own against the two lecherous brutes who’d corralled her into the back alley of that bar in his court, how the bond snapped for him then.

He told her of the night he’d naturally gravitated toward her at a court function, the first time he’d seen her since the night they’d slept together, how fear struck him but it was too late to divert away from her without drawing further attention. Not because he didn’t want her, but because he needed her so fucking badly that he couldn’t risk any attendees discovering his weakness, discovering her.

She already had a target on her back as the niece of the High Lord of the Night Court, the daughter of the Spymaster, but as the mate of another High Lord, she’d all but have a target saying “kidnap me for leverage” on her back.

And then he sighed, a bit of self-loathing lacing his tone. “I have never claimed to be a good male, Y/N. I am selfish and I covet things of value, and you, you’re a fucking treasure. You are everything. I couldn’t stay away. I hoped the hook-up’s would be enough but I only craved you more. I need you to understand, I am centuries older than you. I have lived life, I have been with countless females and males-“ He didn’t miss the slight tense of her body at the mention of his past affairs. “I have traveled, I’ve seen the worst life has to offer, I’ve seen the beauty of life, I have experienced it all and I can confidently say that you are the best this life has to offer.”

He let out another sigh, “But you, you deserve more than to be tied down at this age - and Y/N, if we were mated, if we sealed the bond, I couldn’t share you. I told you I’m selfish. And if you’re mine, you’re mine alone. There will be no others.”

Chill bumps rose on her thighs at the admission. Silence settled between them momentarily before she looked up into his eyes with her brow furrowed. “What about your bargain with Uncle Rhys?”

He only let out a bitter laugh. “I gave him the information of the bond, and the promise of a favor that he could call in at a later time - so long as it was mutually beneficial to our courts - in exchange for his silence until you recognized the bond or I told you of it.”

“And this,” he briefly removed his palm from her thigh, motioning at the apartment, “was mutually decided between us, a safer haven for you and I to escape to than for you to constantly be sneaking off to my court. I wanted to be able to come to you too.”

She hummed at the answer, processing. She pressed her face against his shoulder, muffling her words, a rare show of vulnerability from his vivacious mate.

Eris gave an amused smirk. “What was that?”

He felt the heat of her breath as she let out a sigh. “How do you know you love me? That it’s not just the mating bond?”

“Y/N, look at your mother and my brother. Well, perhaps don’t think on that for too long. Mates, mates who are happily married to others. If I recall correctly, your own High Lord’s parents were mated and unhappy.”

He cupped her jaw, forcing her gaze to meet his.

“You. I love every bit of you. You may be from the Night Court but I’ve witnessed the fire that burns within you, flaring hotter and brighter than that of any in my court. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you regardless of the fact that the bond snapped right after.

I look at you and I see a female who can hold her own, who doesn’t balk from brutes who feel they are entitled to her, a female who is fearless and passionate. A female who somehow manages to wear her heart on her sleeve, while guarding it ferociously. A female who can be both vulnerable and vicious.

You are more than I could have ever asked for, more than I’ve dreamed of, more than I deserve. And if you ever decide to be mine, Y/N, then your heart is mine forever. Mine already belongs to you. Until then, I will wait forever if that’s what it takes. The world is yours, this life is yours to live as you please, and I will cherish you unconditionally whether you’re with me, conquering continents, or warming the bed of someone else.”

Eris felt ease at the relief of letting it all out - though it was both terrifying and thrilling. He sat in silence, letting her absorb everything he’d said. He wanted to speak these words for so long and now she knew everything. Whatever happened next was her choice.

To his surprise, after she contemplated all that he’d laid out for her, she let out a scoff. “You say I can warm someone else’s bed like you haven’t ruined all others for me. You fuck with fire in your veins and I’m the moth to your flame.”

Huffing a small laugh, Eris pressed a kiss to her hair. “I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that.”

She let out a small, contented sigh. “I think, I’d like for us to try courting. Truly courting, no masks. No lies. Just you and me.”

Eris’ heart swelled at the response. A guilt that had risen in him quelling. He still worried that she’d feel pressure to accept the bond after his admission, so the aspect of courting - well, he’d be the best damn courtier in all of Prythian for his little Shadowsinger.

“I’d like that too.” He whispered into her hair.

They remained in companionable silence for the next couple of hours, Y/N falling asleep in his arms - that little snore he adored so much reminding him just how safe and unguarded she felt around him. They had all the time in the world.

Eventually he nodded off only to be awoken by her stirring, “Come on, Eris, let’s go to the bed and sleep. You’re too old to sleep comfortably in this position.”

Letting out a gasp of mock offense and scooping her up, Eris carried her to the bed. The earliest signs of dawn shining in the window.

He watched as she drifted back to sleep, fighting sleep himself as he had a task to attend to this morning. Her shadows roused to which he only shushed them, whispering of his plan, seemingly settling them.

—————————

Y/N

I jolt awake to find my shadows at rest and no Eris in sight. My heart drops slightly at that. After coaxing my shadows for a moment, they whisper of my mate’s whereabouts.

Slightly puzzled, I sift through Eris’ armoire, throwing a cream colored sweater of his on over my dress, put on my heels, and wander into the street beyond the wards, winnowing to him.

I find Eris crouched down in my mother’s garden. I watch quietly, surprised that he hasn’t noticed my presence as he spirits a bag from the pocket realm. A bag, I realize, from the toy shop he’d visited while we strolled through Velaris the previous evening.

He pulls out a few pieces of doll furniture, whispering quietly. A bit of motion catches my eye and a flicker of light.

My heart races as the warm, glowing light flickers in my direction. Eris looks over his shoulder to find me, giving a genuine smile. Gods, that’s a genuine smile that I could get used to.

He tilts his head in a “come here” gesture.

I walk towards him and can’t believe my eyes. A fire sprite has found her way to my little sister’s Sprite garden.

“Hello!” Her sweet, tiny voice greets me. “I hope you don’t mind me taking a rest here. I’ve been dying to visit the city of starlight that I’ve heard whispers of from my sisters in the woods.”

“The High Lord of Autumn,” She gestures to Eris, “spoke to the High Lord and Lady of Night, granting me a visit and spoke of the perfect place to visit.”

I look to Eris in awe but before words can escape my mouth a squeal of excitement sounds out behind me as my little sister rushes out in her night gown. “Azalea, it’s so early!”

“You’re not exactly quiet.” She retorts.

I laugh to myself because we were indeed quiet and she just has an exceptional aptitude for being nosey, but I keep it to myself.

“Oh!!!” The fire sprite squeals. Floating to Azalea. “Look at you! And your wings! They’re lovely.”

Azalea beams at that, the biggest, brightest smile I’ve seen in my life shining from her sweet face.

To my complete and utter joy, Azalea rushes to Eris who is still squatted down arranging the doll furniture he’d purchased, flinging her arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeals, her little wings fluttering. She lets go of his neck, bringing out the biggest moon eyes she can muster with a little pout.

Oh she’s good. I muse to myself at her show of guilt.

“I’m sorry for what I said at the gallery. I don’t like when my sister is sad.”

Eris only smiles. “I don’t like it either, Azalea. I made a bad decision. You weren’t wrong.”

She looks to me, and I give her a smile. So she asks “Did you guys make out?”

I slap my palm to my face. “Up, Azalea.” Eris tries to stifle his amusement. “It’s make up. And yes, we made up.”

She grins. Satisfied with his response and returning to the sprite. Eris stands, placing an arm around my shoulders, guiding me down the garden path and leaving Azalea to pepper the little sprite with her incessant questioning. I look back against the house to see my father and mother standing. My mother in a robe and smiling sweetly at us as she’s tucked under my fathers arm. He says nothing, pointedly trying to ignore that I’m wearing last night’s outfit with a sweater thrown over it.

Ironically, this is the most wholesome walk of shame I’ve ever done. Father only flicks his gaze to my overjoyed little sister, to me, and back to Eris, raising a steaming cup of tea to his mouth and giving a nod of approval.

With that, Eris walks me to the edge of the wards, prepared to winnow to his place. We should go back and sleep but now that I’m no longer fighting the fire raging between us, I have filthy little plans for my High Lord that have nothing to do with rest and everything to do with the bed - among other surfaces.

I look to Eris, my mate, taking in the handsome planes of his face, his gorgeous jawline, the freckles splattered across his face, the coppery red of his hair warmly illuminated by the light of dawn.

My heart is full. We will take some time to truly enjoy the courting process and I cannot wait. I’ve never had the pleasure of truly dating someone given my family and their intimidating presence but Eris isn’t afraid. He understands me. He loves me.

I turn to him, raising myself to press a kiss to his cheek, catching his amber gaze.

“I love you, Eris Vanserra.”

———————————

A/n: Thank you to everyone who has read this series! This is the final part of the main storyline and there will be an epilogue chapter published soon as well. Stay tuned as I’ve left it open for a potential spin-off series/second act of this story or some bonus chapters at the least. If I do this, I will continue tagging those who have been tagged in the main storyline. Just shoot me a message if you want removed from tags for any bonus chapters or the potential spin-off series. 🥰

ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

Eris list: @angiedsv

Series tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams @yourmumsdumptruck @nebarious @glitterypirateduck @mybestfriendmademe @acourtof-wingspan @paleidiot @anae-naea-zacheria @fandomarchiveilyd @bloodicka @12358

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Perfect Send Off

Pairing: Billy Taylor x femme Warnings: Mentions of war, slight coercion and corruption kink, loss of (male) virginity, smut. Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: Visiting war torn London, while helping to evacuate her sister and her children back to Cambridge, a young woman finds herself checked in at The Halcyon, and catches the attention of their bell boy, soon to be soldier, Billy. Based on this request.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Billy, don’t stare!” Peggy chastises her son with a swat to the arm. “Help the lady with her bags.”

Her eyes move appreciatively over the tall form of the sandy haired young man in front of her. He offers her a tight lipped smile, obviously flustered, considering the shade of scarlet he’s turning, before grabbing her suitcases from the marble floor of the hotel foyer. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles awkwardly to the dark haired woman beside him.

“It’s Mrs. Taylor in front of the guests, how many times?!” She hisses quietly, before turning back to her with a charming, painted-on-for-the-guests type smile. “Welcome to The Halcyon, madam. Billy is one of our bell boys, and will take your bags to your room for you now that you’re all checked in. My name’s Peggy, I operate the switchboard. Please don’t hesitate to ring down if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

She watches Peggy walk away, each click of her high heels growing quieter as she retreats, before turning back to Billy, who stands there expectantly with her bags in his large hands.

Oh, I certainly will enjoy my stay.

She had arrived in London by train from Cambridge that morning, intending to leave again with her sister and her children. Since war had broken out, the frequent airstrikes over London had made it too dangerous for them to remain, so they’d be staying with her until it was safe to come back - provided they had a home to return to.

It would take a few days for her sister to get packed and have the house and children’s schooling in order, so she’d be staying at The Halcyon until they were ready to leave.

She spares a sideways glance at the bellboy as they stand in the lift together, the reddening of his face from having been caught staring at her only just beginning to fade. He’s younger than her by at least a couple of years, but has chiseled features that make him look handsome despite his bashful nature, and he fills out the grey slacks of his uniform more than adequately.

The reason for her trip to London is a serious matter, but she figures there’s no harm in having some fun with it.

“It’s nice that a young lad like you gets to work with their mother,” she says with a sultry smile, as the lift travels upwards.

His eyebrows raise, blue eyes widening slightly as he turns to her in the small space. “Oh, I’m not a lad, I’m a man…I mean, working with me mum, it’s not forever. Expecting me draft papers any day now…miss?”

He looks at her uncertainly and she huffs a quiet laugh as they step out of the lift together. “Yes, miss is fine, I don’t have a husband.”

Billy presses his lips together and averts his eyes, nodding slightly.

“So, you’re signed up to draft,” she says as they reach the door of her room, “how exciting for you. You’ll have to pop by and let me know your posting once you find out, I’d love to know.”

He falters, the suitcases he’d been carrying thumping heavily to the ground as he stoops to deposit them over the threshold of her room. He straightens, clasping his hands in front of him, and looks at her apologetically. “Oh…yeah, course…yeah, I will!”

She holds his gaze for a few moments, enjoying his barely disguised panic, before she speaks again. “I’d give you a tip, but I’m afraid I’m unsure of which bag I’ve put my purse in–”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, honestly, don’t worry,” he insists hurriedly.

“Nonsense, I have to give you something,” she purrs, “will this do?”

She leans up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching him carefully as she settles back on her feet.

His eyes go wide, the scarlet hue returning to his skin as he battles to hide a grin, tugging at the collar of his uniform. She hears him mutter “bloody hell” beneath his breath, as his eyes dart nervously down the corridor.

She wonders if he’s ever kissed anyone before, based on his reaction to a mere peck on the cheek she supposes he probably hasn’t.

Oh, my stay here is certainly going to be fun.

“Was that to your liking, Billy?” She asks with a smirk.

“Oh…oh yeah…thanks,” he says, swallowing thickly and trying to regain his composure.

Adorable.

“My pleasure. If that’s everything then, I’ll see you later?”

He nods, retreating from the doorway and down the corridor, sparing glances back over his shoulder at her standing there, until he’s back in the lift and out of sight.

It’s nearly two days later when she’s heading back up to her room in the late afternoon, having spent the day with her sister, that Billy rushes towards her, eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin on his face.

“I got my posting this morning!” He tells her excitedly as she puts her key in her room door.

“Congratulations, soldier,” she says with a wink, “got time to come in and tell me about it, or have you got to get back to work?”

“Just finished me shift, actually, so I’ve got time.” He loosens the strap around his chin of his Halcyon branded cap, removing it as if to signify the fact. His dark blonde hair is slicked back against his head, neatly parted to the side.

“Great, come on in then.”

Billy trails behind her, his hat held gingerly in both hands as he glances around the room.

“Make yourself at home, Billy.” She gestures towards the bed and he perches on the edge of it, while she takes the armchair opposite. She has never seen anyone look less relaxed and has to stifle a laugh at how rigid his posture is.

“So, about your posting–”

“Yeah!” He suddenly becomes animated again, leaning forward and gesticulating each of his words, “Came in the post this mornin’, tried to find ya, but you were out. I’ve been put on the anti aircraft guns! Can you believe it? I’ll be shooting German planes outta the sky!”

She watches him intently as he speaks, the curve of his lips, the brightness of his eyes. He exudes confidence when he’s passionate, not a trace of shyness to be found and it’s incredibly attractive.

“That’s very brave of you,” she says, “I expect your sweetheart will be worried for you though.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, his gaze downcast, “no, there’s no one…no sweetheart.”

“That’s a shame,” she drawls, her smugness at the fact barely concealed. “Tell me, Billy, are you a virgin?”

He widens his eyes, mouth opening and closing as he flushes pink from the base of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “N-no…I’ve had it off with loadsa girls…”

“Billy…” she chastises in a stern tone of voice.

He sighs, turning his hat over in his hands, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I’m a virgin.”

She moves to sit beside him on the bed, her hand caressing his shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that,” she reassures him, “but perhaps you’d like not to be? Can’t send you off to war, never having known the touch of a woman.”

He audibly gulps, staring at her in disbelief, so she takes the initiative, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

He freezes at first, she can feel him trembling all over, but he softens as she’s about the pull away and reciprocates, his hat slipping from his hands and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His mouth moves clumsily against her own, over eager and inexperienced, yet there is something endearing about it. She longs to show Billy the tenderness he deserves.

“I–I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers nervously against her lips once they part for air.

“It’s okay,” she soothes him, caressing his cheek, “just lay back. Let me take care of you.”

He nods, moving back against the bedspread.

She takes her time stripping him of his bellboy uniform. Billy is undeniably skinny, but his long, lean limbs are corded with wiry muscle, his chest and shoulders well defined and broad as they’re revealed to her as she sheds his jacket, shirt and vest.

His chest rises and falls rapidly with anxious, shallow breaths, his eyes glued to her as she removes her own clothing. His lips part as she bares herself before him, trembling hands reaching out tentatively to trace over her naked flesh.

Her eyes widen with shock and admiration and she removes his briefs. She had not been expecting Billy to be quite so well endowed; his erection is thick and reaches almost to his navel, the ruddy tip glistening with arousal.

Billy hisses through his teeth, brow furrowing as she takes him in hand to roll a sheath over the length of him. She can tell from the way he twitches against her palm that he won’t last long.

“You okay?” She whispers as she moves to straddle him.

His expression is almost pained, only able to nod as he looks up at her with desperation in his eyes.

She sinks slowly down onto him, her jaw going slack at the stretch, hearing Billy groan beneath her.

“Oh…oh god…” he grits out, as her hips sink fully against his.

Trailing her fingertips over his bare chest, while giving herself a moment to adjust, she soothes him with a soft kiss.

He hums into it, his hips bucking slightly upwards and she pulls back with a grin, rolling her hips against his, delighting in the way his thickness drags against her sensitive walls.

He gasps softly, head thrown back against the pillows, a few strands of hair coming loose from his carefully waxed style.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters.

His grip on her hips is vicelike as she rocks against him, she feels impossibly full and yet already anticipates this being an unsatisfying ending for her - she can feel him throbbing inside of her, as he pants hard beneath her.

Her backside slaps softly against his thighs once, twice, three times, and all too soon his eyes are screwing shut as he cries out in ecstasy, twitching as he spills into the condom.

She stills, gazing down at him as he opens his eyes, skin flushed as he gasps for air. He looks like a work of art, no shame or fear of making a fool of himself guiding his behaviour, just utterly lost in the moment.

“Sh-shit…sorry…” he whispers, as she climbs off of him. He pulls off the rubber and discards it in the bedside waste paper bin. “That was really quick.”

She smiles, guiding him back to her side and laying back. “It was your first time, that was going to happen. You’ll last longer next time.”

He grins down at her. “Next time?”

“If you want to, that is.”

“Course I do!”

He kisses her with more confidence, his hands snaking a trail down her body, squeezing greedily at her curves. After a few minutes of their languid kisses and caresses, she can feel him stirring to life against her thigh again.

“Could I be on top this time?” He whispers into her ear, settling between her legs, once he’s found another sheath.

She nods, sighing in pleasure as she feels him slip back inside of her. The change in angle and sensation of his weight on top of her heightens the feeling as each of his gentle strokes brushes deep within her.

While it feels good, it’s not quite enough to get her there, and as she feels his thrusts becoming less controlled, she knows she needs to help him to help her.

“Give me your hand,” she says huskily, taking it and guiding it between their bodies. 

She presses his fingers to her pearl, guiding them to stroke her in quick, tight circles. “Just like that,” she tells him.

He’s quick to learn, stroking her in tandem with each snap of his hips. He groans low into the crook of her neck, stilling as he spends himself a second time, but the movement of his fingers never relents. The combination of his ministrations against her bud and him pulsating within her drive her over the edge, and she climaxes with a moan, clenching around Billy, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

He rolls off of her after a moment, throwing his arm behind his head and pulling her to his chest. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs with a lazy smirk.

“Won’t you get the sack?” She asks jokingly.

“Nah, leaving anyway, aren’t I?”

“Right you are,” she smiles, snuggling against him.

“You up for another send off then? I could die, y’know.”

“That’s manipulative, Billy!” She giggles, swatting his chest.

“Is it working though?”

“Yeah, yeah, it is…” she says quietly, feeling his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her thigh.

[weirdmorefics]

benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

[newtonsheffield]

Loving this Mary and Tharman content in this au! How did Lady Sheffield react when she found out Mary was actually with the prince? How did she find out? How did Mary tell her it was actually nothing to do with her?

I think Mary’s mother’s head nearly exploded, to be honest.

And Mary had known that her mother would find out the second Kate had tugged her out of the receiving line and dragged her towards Tharm,an and his parents, waiting at the head. But she’d know everyone would know anyway. Why else would the Princess single Mary out? Kate rarely made public appearances, despite being the only child of the crown prince, the eventual heir. People would speculate anyway and it felt wrong in a way to deny it. So she’d reached forward and grabbed him by the lapels and brought his lips to hers.

Tharman had looked dazed when she’d pulled back and greeted his parents with a curtsy and a polite, Your majesties. He’d cleared his throat.

“Appa, Amma, Lady Mary Sheffield the ah… Earl of Sheffield’s daughter.”

He’d asked her before, if this was what she wanted and she’d told him only when he felt ready. She knew what it meant for him to stand here with his arm tucked gently around her waist and one of Kate’s hands in each of theirs. It was a declaration. It would be everywhere.

All she had to do was wait. And finally the call came when she had her head against Tharman’s chest on the sofa that night, Kate already in bed, her wearing his pyjamas her glasses on and contacts removed.

There was a knock at the door and Tharman’s secretary entered, looking flustered from the turn the day had taken. “Er… Lady Mary…”

Mary knew, “Is my mother on the phone?”

The woman nodded a little apologetically. “Should I… have it transferred…?”

“Here’s fine.” Tharman answered for her, sitting up with Mary, “Thank you, Clara.”

Mary sat forward, taking a deep breath, feeling Tharman’s warm hand on her back, soothing.

“You don’t have to talk to her. I’m not going to let her treat you like shit anymore, Mary.”

Mary shook her head, keeping her hand in his. “It’s fine.”

She reached out for the phone beside the sofa, taking a deep breath as she picked it up. “Mother, is everything alright?”

Her mother sighed down the phone, “Why don’t you tell me, Mary? Starting with why I couldn’t reach you at your flat but I could reach you at the Crown Prince’s private residence?”

Mary’s teeth bit into her lip, “Well, I think you know, Mama.”

Her mother let out an irritated noise, “Yes, and why did I find out about it by seeing a photograph of you, sat on the grass with his daughter while he held your handbag?”

“Well, you didn’t come to the party.”

Tharman chuckled beside her, squeezing her fingers tightly.

“Don’t take that attitude with me, Mary.” She tutted, “Well perhaps you deserve more credit than I gave you. Very smart to use his daughter to get to him.”

Mary froze, her voice cold, “I’m not using Kate. She’s sweet and a beautiful little girl and I love spending time with her.”

“Oh of course you do.” Her mother chuckled, “Clever. He’s just so attached to her.”

Mary nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. “Well, she is his daughter. Most people have fairly warm feelings towards their children.”

“Well, when do we get to meet him?”

Mary cleared her throat, anxiety churning her stomach. “I don’t know, Mama. He’s very busy. We’re very busy.”

“You’re too busy? For your Mother? I’m the reason you’re in this position.”

She steeled herself for it. “No, you aren’t, Mama. Tharman and I met and it had nothing to do with you. I’m not going to let you hold this over my head forever.”

Tharman squeezed her hand before he slid the phone from her grasp, “Lady Sheffield, I’m afraid I’m going to have you to stop speaking to my partner that way.”

Mary watched as he paused, irritation flickering over his face before he rolled his eyes, “I’m afraid she’ll be unable to attend. My parents also send their regrets. Have a lovely evening.”

He hung up the phone without waiting for a response, tossing it to the armchair across the way. “I know she’s your mother but that woman…”

Mary chuckled, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “She’s a nightmare. I was actually thankful for boarding school. I got a rest.”

Tharman groaned, tugging her back against his chest. “I’m never sending Kate to boarding school. I love being Appa. God I want more kids.”

Her heart fluttered, “You want more kids?”

He watched her carefully, “With you? Absolutely. Despite… Lady Sheffield, you’re incredible. You’re amazing with Kate, you love her so much and I… if that’s what you want; I want that too when we’re ready.”

And Mary could hardly breathe when she nodded. “I want that. When we’re ready.”

[jnkgrnde]

— ms. clumsy

pairings : shuri x black!reader

warnings : gets a lil suggestive, terribly corny 😕

summary : shuri has a huge crush on the reader, and it’s blatantly obvious. one example of this is how clumsy and flustered she gets whenever you walk into the room. this is based off a post i saw comparing shuri and the reader to naveen and tiana from the princess and the frog, where naveen was able to flirt with any and everyone with ease but when it came to tiana, he choked up.

“whatcha workin’ on, ms. udaku?” was the sentence that made shuri jump and almost drop her tool. she turned around to find you standing behind her with your hands behind your back. “just- uh- just working on okoye’s midnight angel suit.”

it didn’t take long for you to notice her clumsiness whenever you were around. you noticed the signs a long time ago; the stuttering, the flushed look on her face, her eyes dilating just a little whenever she looked at you.

you knew shuri udaku had a crush on you, and you didn’t mind not one bit because you felt the exact same way.

you let out a giggle at her being so nervous. it was cute to watch, having someone that held so much confidence and have so many girls buckle their knees be so flustered around lil’ ol’ you.

“can i watch?” you asked sweetly. shuri didn’t stop to think about the consequences of this, she just didn’t want you to leave. “of- of course” she looked around and saw that there wasn’t anywhere for you to sit. “i’ll pull up a chair for you.”“oh, you don’t have to do that. i got it.”

shuri looked up at you with her eyebrows raised slightly. you’d heard about t’challa and nakia, the way he would freeze whenever he was around her. is this what they meant? because shuri looked like an antelope in headlights.

she stood there, rendered speechless. “shuri?” you spoke softly. saying her name seemed to do it, because she came back to reality, blinking and blushing.

you gave a sweet, sweet smile and touched her arm gently. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, ms. udaku.” you told her, going to grab a chair. shuri watched you get the chair while she prayed and prayed you couldn’t hear her heartbeat, because it was just about to come out of her chest and run to you with no hesitation.

you watched shuri intently as she worked, asking questions here and there. it was another thing you noticed; her loss of focus. your knee touched hers and it was like she was frozen. before you made yourself known, you watched her work diligently all focus on the midnight angel suit. her fingers worked like you’ve never seen before, perfecting the machinery.

it was another thing you loved about shuri.

beside you, shuri was a fumbling mess.

every time you asked a question, she’d answer with a stutter and would refuse to look at you in the eye in fear that you were too close, and one thing would lead to another..

“so,” she finally breathed out, “why did you come down here?” it was the first time since you sat down with her that she looked up at you, and her heart almost stopped.

you were so close. and you looked so pretty. shuri’s eyes trailed down to your glossed over lips — they looked so inviting, just waiting to put hers on them.

her breathing picked up and it didn’t go unnoticed by you. your heart rate picked up and shuri could hear it. you had to stop yourself from kissing her, stop yourself from just holding her perfectly sculpted jaw and putting your lips on hers.

“i just..” you barely whispered, “i wanted to see my favorite girl.” you moved your eyes up to the scientist. your body started moving on it’s own, hand going to touch shuri’s face but you hesitated. “i’m your favorite girl?” she repeated quietly. “‘course you are.”

it was silent, only the sound of breathing filled the space. then, shuri did something that surprised the both of you — she kissed you first. your eyebrows shot up in shock, but you quickly reciprocated the thing you craved most. butterflies erupted in your stomach, and it felt like bells were going off. your heart pounded in your chest, as did shuri’s.

you smiled into the kiss and your heart filled with joy and contentment as you did. heavy breathing started, and hands flew to wherever they desired; shuri’s to your waist, yours to her face. hearts were poured into the kiss along with long months of yearning. she handled you so gently, so delicately as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

it was a while before you two finally separated for air. shuri was sure she had hearts in her eyes as she looked at you. your lips were kiss swollen, eyes blown wide and a stupid smile on your face. shuri slowly formed a smile herself.

“can’t believe you made the first move, udaku.”

[suguruplsr]

Don’t be shy. Make reader and shoko kiss

Lovers !

✰ ✰ ✰ her lips looked so enticing.. but you don’t know how to kiss ! don’t worry , she’ll teach you <3

જ⁀➴ i hear you i see you i love this <3

,, shoko x fem!reader , fluff , kiss , pt1 , pt2

“and he was complaining about his stitches! i can’t stand people who.. “ you watched shoko’s pretty lips move, lost in thought as she ranted about some guy she was taking care of earlier. her lips had a tint to them, probably the glossy pink lip gloss she always puts on in the morning, sitting on the left side of the bathroom where she keeps most of her makeup. but only leaving the small tube out to never forget where it is and you know she’s told you once or twice about how she even keeps another one in her pocket and purse.

shoko’s lips weren’t big, small but at the perfect size. you were sure they were soft from the occasional cheek kisses she gave you, or when she’d adore your hand and place kisses on your knuckles. she even indulges herself in the collection of your random flavors of chapsticks that family members, and satoru, have given you on christmas. always watching her when she quickly applies the cherry coca cola flavor over her lips before bed.

it was always endearing to see her stand beside the bed with impatience, simply observing as she put on so many coats, trying to get the right amount so her lips didn’t feel even a tinge of dryness. you’ve counted it so many times. three coats, rub it in, four coats, wipe the corners, then one more for good luck. or maybe because she knows her regular way of putting it on, and wants it to be an even amount of coats. but six was too little.

it never crosses your mind of how you think a bit deeper into the things she does. you’ve only learned it from being with her, not only as a lover, but also as a friend. if she makes eggs, she always picks four rather than three, maybe six if satoru and suguru eats with you two. if she’s looking at the ground in thought, she never walks on cracks. sometimes she takes long strides along the dorm to step on every other tile. you’ve found amusement in her odd ways, she wasn’t ‘loud’ about it, but it was always there.

“what’s so interesting?” shoko diverts your attention to her with a soft tone, her face closer to yours as she study’s your eyes. “you.” the words leave your lips faster than you can realize, but you don’t correct yourself, they are true. and the small widening of her eyes before they softened was an added bonus. “how so?” she drinks some of her coffee, her hand that you held curled before intertwining. a small movement she always does, as if hesitant.

“you’re odd. i like it. and your lips.” your vague description left her puzzled, yet she couldn’t help but bring a hand up to her lips in thought, “my lips?” “yes.” maybe you just can’t explain it? no, you were zoning out for a while. shoko bites her lips, earning a small tap on her wrist from you. you knew of her habit of biting them whenever she was bored or in thought. helping her by making her conscious of her actions before she could make her lip bleed within minutes.

catching onto her confusion, you sigh, “they’re pretty. i want to hold and love them. just like your hand.” your little words of frustration have a laugh escaping shoko’s lips, making your frown dissipate before it could even appear. “really? you can just kiss them.” she has a teasing edge, giving you a sly grin as she brings your hand up to her lips. beyond embarrassed, you scoffed, glancing away.

“i don’t know how to kiss.. not on the lips.” you grumbled quietly, feeling shoko reach over the table and turn your head towards her, her fingers felt so warm yet soft, as if grazing your jaw with carefulness. “do you want me to teach you..?” shoko whispers, smiling when she could finally realize how flustered you were from your small fidgeting movements and holding her hand firmly. unable to look in her eyes. “i’d like that.. please.” you hum, almost concerned by how eager she leans over the table.

shoko holds your face tighter, hers only inches away while her lips are just so close. it makes your breath hitch. “when you want to kiss someone, and mean it. you hold their gaze, only you two should have each other’s attention.” she hums, then tilting your head as her hands sneakily ghost down your neck, holding you to look up at her. it made your skin crawl, but not in a bad way, far from that.

as if chasing your lips, she leans down, her longer hair almost trapping you two in the comfort of your shared moment. “then you slowly meet their lips..and…” shoko finally seals your lips together. it felt like something inside you melted, your eyes immediately closing as you held her arms, not wanting for it to end. shoko smiles against your lips, following in suit and holding firmly to savor the moment before either of you could pull away.

feeling yourself lose your breath, you hum, a small gasp leaving your mouth when she separates. “and then you tell them how that kiss was amazing..” shoko sighs breathlessly, her lips were almost puffy, eyes looking at you with so much adoration. her eyes seem to twinkle when she realizes the haze she left you in. “sho..” you voice was barely above a whisper, licking your lips and tasting her strawberry gloss.

“it couldn’t have been that good.” shoko chuckles, giving a small poke on your cheek before going to sit back down. “wait..” you stop her with a huff, standing up and walking around the table, gently pushing her into the chair and tilting her head back with a hand on her head.

“i want to try now..”

[inahochi]

Arnold was absolutely toying with her, but the look on his face was as cool as ever. He managed to seem sincere as he asked, voice slightly husky, “Is it all right if I touch you?” It’s a little late, isn’t it?! It was like he was only asking to hear her answer. “Y-yes…” She nodded as best as she could. Arnold’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction. He opened the ring box with one hand, keeping his other hand on Rishe’s. His big hands were dexterous, and he was easily able to get the ring out one-handed. Meanwhile, Rishe was reaching her limit. What was that kiss? She had heard that kneeling and kissing the back of a woman’s hand was the marriage proposal custom among the nobility in Galkhein, but when Arnold had proposed to her, he’d only knelt and taken her hand. Maybe this was a do-over of that night. (...) While she was trembling, her lips pressed shut, Arnold gave her an exasperated look and said, “Hey, don’t hold your breath.” “I-I’m not.” That was a lie, she was holding her breath. She didn’t like keeping things from him, but the truth was too painful. “It’s just that I can’t really remember how breathing works…” “Heh.” He laughed! How dare he, after making her so flustered. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but she didn’t have the energy to complain. Rishe flinched as the cold ring touched her finger, contrasting with the heat of her body, embarrassing her further. She wondered if Arnold remembered the temperature her hand normally was. Please don’t notice that it’s hotter than usual! Arnold slid the ring on, his touch almost reverent. It felt like it took forever, maybe because Rishe had her eyes closed, but eventually the ring settled right in the spot where Arnold had kissed her. “Pwah…” Rishe exhaled the breath she’d been holding, her eyes still closed. “Did you remember how to breathe?” “S-somehow…” “Seems you’ve forgotten how to open your eyes now,” he said, amused. That made opening her eyes even harder. Her heart rang like an alarm bell in her chest, and she had no idea what to do with her face. She hung her head to hide it instead and felt Arnold’s hands reaching out to her. “Mmh…” Rishe’s shoulders flinched when he touched her closed eyelid. His thumb brushed against her lashes, tracing the line they drew, like he was wiping away tears. Or maybe waking a small child who was deeply asleep. His finger touched her delicately, making its way to the corner of her eye. “Rishe.” Even his voice was soft and soothing, and Rishe was finally able—albeit timidly—to open her eyes. When she did, she saw Arnold looking at her bright-red face like it was something precious, his eyes narrowed in fondness. “I’m done.”  (✿)

7TH TIME LOOP (2024)

#12. the most beautiful thing・いちばん美しいもの