#he is a ridiculous man and she is going to marry him so hard

[dinogoofymutated]

may i pretty please request a wolverine x reader where he gets super clingy when he’s tired and he’s just so soft with the reader following her around like a little puppy until she agrees to go to finally go to bed so they can cuddle and sleep and it’s just 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Wolverine/GN!Reader THIS!!! I absolutely love soft Logan and having this big, rageing machine of a man turn into an absolute puppy when he's sleepy and in love UGH. I need him to be real RN so we can go get married and live happily ever after in the mountains I stg Sorry that this one is kinda short. It's really fluffy and I hope yall enjoy! TWs: None! Reader is written pictuing fem but no pronouns mentioned.

    You woke up a little while ago with the striking revelation that you had completely forgotten to finish grading exams. Sure, you could have waited till the morning, but you had become restless. At this point, the only thing that was gonna help you fall back asleep was to just get it over with. 

   You let out a sigh as you finish another exam, moving on to the next one in the stack. You remember when you had first joined the X-men, expecting it to all be adventures and saving people from immediate threats- you never would have expected to be where you are now. The thought makes you laugh a little bit. You, a teacher? Oh, how times have changed. For the better, but changed nonetheless. The door to your classroom creaks open slowly, and you look over to see Logan. His eyes are half closed as he shuffles over to you, leaning over the back of your chair to wrap his arms around your shoulders and set his chin atop your head.

    “Come back to bed, baby.” Logan rumbles. You rub one of his arms back and forth with one of your hands as you continue to write with the other.

    “Sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask. Logan only hums from above you, adjusting his head to press his cheek against your hair. You know what he means, even if he won't admit it.

    “Okay, well just give me a moment and I’ll get back in bed with you, okay?” You tell him, admittedly feeling a little guilty for disturbing his sleep. Logan doesn’t respond, and instead begins to move to the other side of your chair.

    “Logan?” You call his name curiously as he begins to sit down on the floor next to you. He huffs as he leans his head against your thighs, practically using your lap as a pillow.

    “I’ll stay here, thanks.” He says, and you can't help but laugh a little.

    “Logan, There is no way that’s comfortable.” You protest, but he simply shrugs, closing his eyes as he nuzzles into your lap.

    “ ‘ve been through worse.” Logan sighs, and you swear you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. You can’t help but shake your head at him anyway, writing a graded letter on the latest exam before moving it over again.

    “You’re actually ridiculous, you know that?” Logan only hums in response to you, his breathing beginning to slow as you run a hand through his hair. The two of you sit like that for a while, and although you do feel bad about how uncomfortable it must be for him to sit down there like that, Logan doesn’t complain. You rub your eyes when you’ve finally finished grading the last exam, setting it neatly on your desk with the others. You’re ready to finally get up from that god-forsaken seat, but the weight in your lap is keeping you from doing so. When you look down, it’s clear to see that Logan has fully fallen asleep in your lap. You try to keep yourself from smiling too hard as you brush your hand across his shoulders and try to wake him up. 

    “Logan.” You call for him gently, and all he does is grunt in a sleepy way. “Come on, I’m gonna get a glass of water and then I’ll meet you in bed.” You shake him just a tad bit rougher, and Logan grunts again, slowly blinking his eyes open as he sits up. You run your hand through his hair one more time before standing. You wait for him at the door of the classroom, giving him a kiss on his cheek before you turn in the opposite direction, headed towards the kitchen. At first, you think you’re hearing things, but after a few more heavy steps from behind you, you turn around and are face to face with a sleepy, grumpy, Logan. You look at him in disbelief. 

    “I’m not going far. I’m just getting a drink and I’ll meet you in bed?” You can’t believe that he’s still trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. He almost pouts at you. Logan Howlett, the one and only Wolverine, pouting at you over something so silly.

     “Lo. You cannot be serious.” You say, once again trying your best not to laugh. Logan huffs at you, walking forward to take your hand before he’s leading you to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

     “You’ll get over it.” He grumbles. The walk to the kitchen to get water is just as quick as you thought it would be, if not a little longer due to Logan being stuck to your side the whole time, being built wide like a fridge and being in the way no matter what with how close he was. He’s got his arm draped over you on the way back to bed, refusing to be less than three inches away from you at all times. You hardly have time to lock the door to your shared room before he’s grabbing you by the waist and tugging you under the covers. God, he was so ridiculous like this and you love him so much for it. It takes a moment for you to get settled under the covers, Logan’s hold on you being equivalent to being held in a steel cage and leaving very little room for movement. 

    When you turn to tell him goodnight, he’s already fast asleep. You lean in and kiss him goodnight anyway, and you swear that you see him smile unconsciously before you tuck yourself into his chest, finally resting in his comforting and secure arms.

[drabbles-mc]

Lucky For You

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, mentions of hospitals/injuries, no use of "y/n"

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: earlier tonight i lied to myself and said i wouldn't work on any new oneshots until i finished a wip. but I've been marinating on this idea since last week and i just had to write it down. just a short cute little fluffy somethin'! my first twisters fic. hope you enjoy!

You were shaking your head as you walked back over to the side of the picnic table that Tyler was sitting at. You had a beer bottle in one hand, the other resting on Tyler’s shoulder as you stepped in so you could plop back down beside him at the table.

“I’m still trying to figure out what you guys told Lily to say,” you gestured to Lily then Kate with the bottom of your beer bottle before taking a quick sip, “to get Kate to cave so quickly.” You gave Lily a playful smile. “What’d you say to convince her? Hm? ‘Cause lord knows it wasn’t either of these two,” you said as you nodded to Tyler first, then Boone.

Both men looked at you with dramatic looks of offense. “What?” Tyler asked, grin starting to curl his lips as he spoke. “You don’t think we were charming or convincing enough on our own?”

You rolled your eyes as he draped his arm around you. “No, I don’t.”

It got another wave of laughter. Tyler took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean in and kiss your temple. “Seemed to work just fine on you.” He reached across and stole your beer bottle from you, taking a sip before allowing you to snatch it back. “And you said yes to a way more dangerous proposition.”

You shook your head even though you were smiling, even though you could feel your cheeks warming. It was no great secret, or even breaking news at this point after the last few years you’d spent married to the ridiculous man sitting on the picnic table bench next to you. Sometimes, though, you couldn’t help the cheesy grin that crossed your face when you became a little more aware than usual of the wedding band on your hand.

“That’s different,” you said, not that it mattered, not that it helped your case at all as Tyler continued to nettle you good-naturedly.

“How’d you two meet, anyway?” Kate asked.

It was a fair question. You didn’t chase with the rest of them, never had. You’d met and fallen in love with Tyler before he decided to make a career out of it. The journey wasn’t always a smooth or easy one, but you never doubted him, or your relationship, not even for a second. Even in the hard times. A lot can happen over the course of six years, but you still clearly remembered when you first met him.

Tyler had started watching you the second he realized where Kate’s question was going. He watched the little twitches and shifts of your hands and facial expressions as you went rapid-fire back down memory lane. When you ended up with a little smirk on your face, he knew that you were all too happy to tell the story.

You took another drink from your beer bottle before just handing it back to Tyler, rather than trying to make him steal it again. “When I met Tyler, I’d say about, oh, seventy percent? Yeah, seventy. About seventy percent of his face was covered in bruises and bumps. Fractured cheekbone, split lip.” You turned and looked at him even though you were talking to Kate. “He was lookin’ real cute.”

She laughed, but you could see the mild confusion in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You find him after a rough chase, or…?”

You smiled and shook your head. “We met back before he was the infamous Tornado Wrangler.” Leaning forward, you braced your arms flat on the picnic table, Tyler’s hand sliding from your shoulder down to the center of your back, his palm warming you through your tank top. “They brought him to the hospital that I work at after he got stomped out by a bull at the rodeo.” You felt his fingers drumming against your back and your smile stretched a little wider. “I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ in on anyone in the wing he was in, but the nurse who was supposed to help discharge him had to leave.”

Tyler had a cocky little smirk on his face. “Lucky for you though.”

You gave him a look that didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as it should of since you were grinning. “Yeah, real lucky for me that Jay’s kid got in a fight at school so he had to leave and he left you to me.”

Tyler laughed. “He was cute but I gotta say, I think you’re a little cuter.”

You gave him a playful shove, which he responded to by looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer again. You shook his head at him before looking back at Kate. “Anyway, as I was saying. I go into his room to talk through some of the paperwork with him, and with one eye practically swollen shut still this man right here is tryin’ to get my number.”

“Actually, if I remember right—”

“You were concussed into next Tuesday—I doubt you remember much of anything right.”

“If I remember,” he repeated with a laugh, “I was actually tellin’ you that you should just jot my number down from my patient forms so you could call me sometime.”

You looked at Kate with a feigned nonplussed look. “Told me somethin’ about making a ‘house call’. Real bold for a man who was about half an inch away from some serious brain damage.”

“Probably what gave him the confidence to ask in the first place,” Lily piped up with a laugh.

Everyone was laughing, and listening. Kate might’ve been the only one in present company who hadn’t heard the story before, but it wasn’t as though it was something that the two of you were constantly rehashing all the time. The two of you usually kept the retellings amusing enough anyway, allowing the rest of the crew to throw in their two cents even though they hadn’t been there when it all started. After all, Tyler might’ve been the one you met first, and under some pretty dire conditions, but you’d been around to help out the rest of the team plenty of times since then. Whether you were making sure they were all alright after a rough chase, or meeting up with them in the towns that had been blown through to see who you could help even if you weren’t off the clock. You might not have chased with the rest of them, but you were still part of the team.

“How long did it take for him to wear you down, then?” Kate asked.

 The shit-eating grin on Tyler’s face grew tenfold. He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

You dropped your forehead so that it rested on top of your forearms for a moment before looking up and at Kate again. “I gave him my number after I pushed him to the lobby in his wheel chair.”

“Doctor’s orders, by the way,” he interjected with a shake of his head. “I didn’t need it.”

You rolled your eyes but kept going. “He was pretty persistent the whole way down, so I told him if he still remembered my name and number by the time his fractures all healed up, I’d meet him for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”

“Cup of coffee ended up bein’ a split six-pack and a failed bonfire at her cousin’s place, by the way,” he added on with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and your lip still wasn’t fully healed.”

He smirked. “Didn’t stop you though.” You lightly swatted his chest with the back of your hand but you didn’t say anything to refute his statement. “So really, what I’m hearin’, is that you shouldn’t be havin’ any doubts about our charms.”

“Sayin’ yes to a date is nothing like—”

“You also said yes to marryin’ him,” Lily added on, always happy to stir the pot just a little. “Y’know, with the ring that he almost lost in a chase.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “If I left it at home I was sure she’d find it!”

“Yeah,” Lily laughed as she argued, “and if the chase went wrong somebody on the other end of the county would find it. Then what?”

Tyler laughed and shrugged. “Corner store sells Ring Pops.”

You had no shot at tamping down your smile. “Prob’ly still would’ve said yes, too.”

(divider by @saradika 💞)

Twisters Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists): @garbinge

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 4

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, FILTH, SMUT, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), praise, slight degradation, slight d/s vibes, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Rhaenyra, Jealous!Daemon

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 2.4K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“I take it our girl couldn’t wait?”

Daemon grins. “She never does.”

“Please, I was so close,” you whine in frustration, dropping your head back on the mattress.

“How were the perils of court, my love?” Daemon asks, completely ignoring your dilemma even as you buck your hips towards him. He sat up, kneeling between your legs and pulling them to drape over his thighs.

Rhaenyra smirked, realizing the game Daemon was playing at. “If you must know, it was tragically boring.” She pulled the pins from her hair, shaking out the ridiculously complicated updo.

“Oh?” Daemon asks. “Are the Lannister cunts still angry over their champion’s unfortunate accident?”

“I could hardly call a public beheading an accident,” Rhaenyra snorted.

“Are you two seriously talking about court gossip while your wife is naked and waiting?” you complain. Daemon and Rhaenyra don’t glance over or even acknowledge that you’ve spoken. You open your mouth to demand their attention, but you feel Daemon’s hand sliding up your thigh and to your aching core.

“His tongue slipped, so did my sword.” Daemon slides two fingers into your cunt, fucking into you with lazy strokes. You moan in relief.

“Several times,” Rhaenyra corrected flatly. “The Lannisters demanded our maester put the pieces of him back together for the funeral.”

“I would have fed him to Caraxes, but I don’t want him catching whatever diseases-”

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra tries to conceal her laugh.

You moan as Daemon’s hand falls into a rhythm. You hated being ignored, and they weren’t the only ones who could play games. Sliding your hands up to your chest, you tweak and tease your nipples, arching your back and moaning dramatically.

Daemon hums, and you catch his eyes as they flicker over to glance at you. You smirk. He’s slipping. 

Your smirk drops as Daemon turns back to Rhaenyra to ask about the other houses.

“If one of you doesn’t fuck me within the next five minutes, I swear I will walk out of these rooms and find someone who will,” you hiss.

Both Rhaenyra and Daemon stiffen at your words. “Our little dragon is spitting fire,” Rhaenyra said.

“I’m surprised she lasted this long,” Daemon smirked. You sigh in relief, they were finally going to stop teasing you. Any sense of victory you felt vanished as Daemon’s gaze turned to you, his eyes dark and hungry. “But I don’t appreciate threats like that. You’re ours.”

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling, you’re going to regret that” Rhaenyra purrs. She walks over to the forgotten wine, pouring a cup for herself. Rhaenyra sits on a chair facing the bed, sipping on her wine with a wicked look in her eyes. “Daemon, why don’t you give our dragon exactly what she’s begging for.”

You swallow hard as Daemon responds. “Yes, my queen.” He repositions himself between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he dives back into your cunt like a man starved. Daemon’s hands slide up to grip your waist, holding you in place as he laps firm strips against your cunt. You moan, hands moving to grip Daemon’s hair and guide him.

“That’s it, love,” Rhaenyra praises. She’s the picture of elegance, still fully clothed in her tournament gown, legs crossed, and a chalice dangling from her hand as she watches Daemon devour you. 

You whimper as Daemon releases a hand on your waist to fuck two fingers in you. He sucks harshly at your clit, flicking it roughly with his tongue. 

“You must be so close,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “On edge all day with no release.” 

“Please Nyra,” you whine.

“I don’t know if we should let you come,” she responds. “You certainly could use a lesson in restraint.” A gasped moan is wrenched from you as Daemon’s other hand reaches up to pluck and pick at your nipple. The added stimulation from his rough palm and calloused fingers is almost enough to send you over the edge.

“Nyra–love–please!” You’re begging as Daemon continues to torment you. He slips another finger into you, hooking them to massage at a sensitive spot. You squirm, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm for Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra sets down her chalice, stalking over to the bed to look down at you. You burn under her gaze. She seems larger than life–regal, ruthless, and devastatingly beautiful. In moments like this, you’re in awe of the dragon your wife really is. Rhaenyra leans down to kiss you softly before whispering in your ear, “I want you to enjoy this, love. Tell us if you need to stop.” You nod, unable to form words as moans spill from your lips. Nyra rises back up to her full height, the softness gone as her queen mask falls back on. 

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra says. You choke as he hums in response. “Make her come.”

You can feel him grin against your cunt as he doubles his efforts. His fingers fuck into you hard, curling into that spot that makes you see stars. Daemon’s other hand continues to squeeze your breast and pinch at your nipples as he nibbles and sucks on your clit. Your hands grip his hair harder, unintentionally pulling at it, and you feel him moan at the pain. The vibration of his moans are enough to send you over the edge, and your eyes roll back as you climax. Your body tenses, walls fluttering around his fingers.

Daemon fucks your through your orgasm, slowing his thrusts and pressing kisses into your inner thigh. You whine in overstimulation and squirm to get away from his hands. “Fuck,” you breathe, “that was so perfe-”

“Did I say to stop?”

Your eyes widen at Rhaenyra’s words. “You can’t be serious, I jus-” You break off into a yelped moan as Daemon’s mouth and fingers begin their ruthless pace anew. 

“Poor little dragon,” Nyra coos as she smooths down your hair. “We’re just giving you what you asked for.”

Your hips jerk in overstimulation as you struggle to escape Daemon’s steady hands and practiced tongue. Even with the tinge of pain, you quickly find yourself building up to another climax. Your eyes close, mouth falling open to gasp as Nyra murmurs filthy praises.

“What a greedy thing,” she purrs. “You’ve already soaked your husband’s face once and that still isn’t enough for you?”

Daemon slips his hand from your dripping cunt to rub your clit. The calluses on his fingers are rough against your oversensitive clit and you cry out, throwing your head back. “Fuck, Nyra,” Daemon groans. “You should taste her. Just when I didn’t think she could get any sweeter-” He trails off as Rhaenyra kisses him deeply. Her hand sliding up to cup the back of his head as she tastes your cum on his lips. The sight is enough to send you over the edge a second time. You choke out a series of curses, hands grasping at the sheets as you come again.

Your legs shake as Daemon continues to circle and massage your clit with firm pressure. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs, “did you really think anyone else could satisfy you like us?” His fingers finally come to a stop and you force your eyes to refocus on him. “You’re ours.”

You nod weakly, reaching out blindly to try and pull at either of them. Daemon chuckles as he gives in and leans down to kiss you. Rhaenyra gently pulls him back and pushes him to sit back on the bed. 

“My love, can you handle more,” she asks, returning her attention to you. You nod, feeling her press kisses into skin as she helps you sit up. “Why don’t you thank our husband properly?” You hear Daemon groan at Nyra’s words and look over to see him. Daemon is a mess in every sense of the word. His hair is wild and unruly, hanging down in tousled waves. A sheen of sweat covers his chest, and your eyes follow the line of his hardened muscles to see that he’s stroking his cock as he watches you both. Even with your sensitive cunt, you find yourself ready to go again.

Crawling over to Daemon, you sling a leg over his hips and raise onto your knees. You reach down to guide his cock into your aching core, but Nyra is already there. She nibbles and kisses your neck as you sheathe yourself on your husband’s cock. You moan as you take Daemon inch by inch, and his hands grip your waist to steady you.

“Just a bit more,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “You’re almost there.” Your legs shake lightly as he fills you. 

“Fuck,” Daemon breathes as he strokes his hands soothingly against your sides. “That’s it, take me all the way.” 

Rhaenyra sits behind you, the embroidery on her gown rough against your sensitive skin. “Look at how well you're taking him,” she purrs into your ear. One hand slides down to brush against where Daemon’s cock disappears into your cunt, gathering some of your release. She slides her wet fingers up to rub your clit in soft, slow circles. Her other hand slides up to cup your breast. “Come on love, take what you need.”

Daemon’s hands slide down to your hips, guiding your movements as you begin to rock your hips and grind down onto his cock. “You’re so perfect for us,” he moans. “Taking what we give you and begging for more.”

You set a slow and steady pace, fucking yourself onto his cock as you lean back into Nyra’s chest. She captures your lips with hers, teeth biting your bottom lip gently as she pulls back. “Nyra, please,” you beg, stopping your movements. “You’re far too clothed, I need to feel you.” You attempt to turn around and work on the laces of her gown, but she stops you. Rhaenyra stands, pulling at the laces of her gown and letting it drop from her shoulders.

Both you and Daemon curse as the gown hits the floor. Rhaenyra’s pale skin breaks into gooseflesh and nipples pebble at the cool air. Your hands slide to Daemon’s chest, pushing him to lay flat on the bed. “Have a seat,” you grin, “I want you to ride our husband’s face while I ride his cock.” Rhaenyra climbs into the bed. 

“You two will be the end of me,” Daemon moans. Daemon’s hands move to guide Rhaenyra so that she faces you. She hovers over his face, hesitating. “Sit,” he growls, pulling her hips down to his mouth. Rhaenyra moans, arching her back as Daemon licks and sucks at her cunt.

Your hips resume their paces as you reach out to guide Rhaenyra’s arms to rest around your neck. You kiss her desperately, swiping your tongue at her lips until she parts them to let you in. She moans breathlessly into you, and you eagerly drink down every little noise.You cup the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand down to pinch and tug at her nipples. Rhaenyra gasps and moans at the stimulation. 

“You’re so perfect” you say as you break the kiss. “So. Fucking. Perfect.” You punctuate each word with a kiss down her neck and chest. You take a nipple into your mouth, sucking harshly before releasing it to lick and gently bite at the hardened bud. Rhaenyra grips your hair, guiding you to the other bud. You give it the same attention, nipping and sucking until it’s covered in your saliva.

“Look at the absolute mess you’re making,” you moan as you pull away from her. Rhaenyra is panting as she grinds into Daemon’s mouth. Your gaze drops to see Daemon is fucking his tongue into her. You reach down to flick and rub at Nyra’s clit, kissing her before leaning back to watch her as she nears her peak. “Come on, Nyra, eyes on me,” you purr. “I want to watch you as you soak his face.”

She moans, eyes struggling to stay open as she looks at you. “Do it,” you whisper, “come for us.” Your fingers work Rhaenyra’s clit at a steady and brutal pace. Her head falls back as she cries out and bucks her hips into your hand. You slow your grind against Daemon as you focus solely on working Nyra through her climax. “That’s it, let it out.” 

Both you and Daemon continue your ministrations until Rhaenyra is trembling and pulling away. She collapses against the pillows, breasts heaving as she catches her breath. 

You yelp as Daemon lifts you off of his cock and tosses you next to Rhaenyra. “My turn,” he growls, pushing your legs up from behind your knees. You don’t have time to complain about the loss of his cock, as Daemon seats himself back in your cunt in one smooth thrust. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you in short, hard thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he grunts. You feel so full as his cock batters against your most sensitive spots. Rhaenyra props herself up on her elbow, rubbing your clit in time with Daemon’s thrusts. Her swift circles are enough to send you over the edge. You nearly scream as you come again, and you clench down on Daemon’s cock. Daemon moans loudly, hips stuttering as he comes. 

His thrusts slow to gentle grinds as he releases his grip on your legs and leans down to kiss you. “Still want to walk out of these rooms?”

NOTE: Blink twice if I should full send BratTamers!Daemon and Rhaenyra. I was gonna do it here, but decided to show a little restraint since this is only chapter four lmaoooo. Also I’m going to close my requests so I can catch up on the ones I have (and still finish chapters for this work)! I vaguely considered writing a more serious work, but the playful dynamic is just sooo much fun. Thank you to everyone who is reading and commenting, I’m so thrilled you all are enjoying it! ~ Lacie <3 

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @avalyaaa, @angeliccss, @clocksonthewall79, @sia2raw

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[leviraaaaaa]

𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭

𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵e𝘭𝘭

Levi let out a sigh of relief the moment your silhouette appeared through the shadows, tensed shoulders relaxing. He turned his head, all focus shifting instantly to you.

“You.” He exhaled, a hint of exasperation in his tone, indicating that the little time spent without your absence had not been very fun. “Where have you been?”

“Hi. Went to scout.” You answered, reaching the little campfire to stand beside Levi. All your friends sat circling it. Levi’s subtle, not very subtle eagerness at your arrival seemed to have triggered something, making the already guffawing crowd of people laugh even harder. Concluded with Levi’s sour face, it wasn’t very hard to guess what the subject of amusement must have been.

“Oh, are we bullying Levi again?” You beamed, nudging Levi’s leg with your foot, signaling him to give you space. “Scoot over. I want to join too.”

Levi shot a glare, but shifted to let you sit beside him. As another wave of laugher sparked through your friends, you plopped down on the grass, folding your legs. It was a chilly night, and everyone wanted to stay near the fire, therefore, the circle was so tightly formed around the fire, you could barely squeeze yourself between Levi and Nifa.

“Sit on my lap, why don’t you?” Levi grumbled, scowling and squirming a little at the close contact.

“What? It’s cold. And you’re warm.” You said as you sat down. “What are you so pissy for anyways?” You pressed yourself tighter, curling yourself up against him, uncaring of the poisonous gaze. You’ve learnt a long ago, half of Levi's words didn’t mean shit, that if he actually was uncomfortable, you wouldn’t even be here right now, he would’ve broken a bone or two. Levi’s personal space wasn’t something he let anyone come through, but you’ve been an exception for that for a long time.

And he was warm. A warmth that surprisingly only the cold, cold man was capable of.

And as always, the low protest died soon and he adjusted to let you lean against him.

“Hange.” He muttered, answering your previous question. “They’re trying to convince people to marry me.”

“Wonderful.” You grinned, “I volunteer.”

“I hate you.”

Cue for a very drunk Hange cracking up again, leading the others to join in. Even Erwin, ever regal and solemn, couldn’t seem to be able to hold the small smile from forming. With Hange’s contagious laughter and Levi’s scowl, it was impossible to.

“Oh why’d you let Hange drink again?” You laughed, watching them as Moblit struggled, trying to pry the bottle out of the section commander's grasp. “They're gonna be terrible to deal with tomorrow.”

“They insisted it was one sip.” Erwin said solemnly.

“Well, that sure seems like one sip.”

“But seriously though,” Nanaba piped in, shoulders still shaking with the waves of laughter. “Levi’s got all that spunk, but no bitches.”

“Stubborn shortie-” Hange's voice was cut of as they hiccupped

“Shut up. All of you. Please.” Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “

“Point stands. In your mid-thirties, Levi. How long are you going to wait?”

“Why,” He huffed. “Are you people so insistent on analyzing my personal life every damn time? Do you not have anything better to do?”

“Only well wishers.” She gave him a smug smile. “That’s what friends do, they care for each other.”

“No. You just want to give me shit.”

“Well, that too.” She shrugged.

“Iffff—if anything,” Hange stumbled in, rubbing their eyes. She glanced at you pointedly. “You could at least date her. That’d be nice.”

“So I keep telling him.” You feigned a disappointed sigh.

“Don’t fucking egg them on.” He hissed, face heating up at the suggestion. How could they even think it’d work out? He thinks, against the thoughts tugging. Ridiculous. They were ridiculous. You were just as ridiculous. So what does he do with this ridiculous fucking feelin–

“Oh but look,” Hange leaned forward, squinting to watch the two of you, their glasses reflecting off the fire and casting shadows on their face. “ Do mine eyes deceive me or is Ackerman over there blushing?”

“No.” The denial was quick. A little too quick.

“I confirm.” Nanaba smirked. Miche grunted.

“No.”

“Oh, Levi.” Erwin’s eyes glimmered amusement.

“I will hit you. Don’t even go there.”

The roar of laughter only grew louder.

And the night rolled on, the nonsense bickerings and banters continued. Friendly faces and friendly voices, joking and teasing and laughing without a care in the world. Bottles clinked, the firelight glinting on them. At one point, you and Hange started singing some stupid song you’ve heard in the fair, rocking back and forth with the music. And you weren’t certain, but you could swear there was a hint of melody even in the wind blowing by. And it was cold, but with Levi beside you, you were okay. But that was okay, it was okay. More than okay, really. The happiness was overwhelming.

.

“You know,” Hange called out suddenly. They had taken to fully sprawl out on the grass. They’d been quiet a while, and you had thought they must’ve passed out, but appears not.

Everyone turned to look at them.

“This is nice isn’t it?” They mumbled, blinking up to the sky. “I mean, sure, we might die tomorrow, but this is nice. I wouldn’t really mind dying.”

“You know, what would’ve been nice, Hange?” Nanaba said, watching Hange. And despite the words itself, she was smiling. “To not mention death.”

“I know but,” Hange sat up, grinning. “This is not too bad as a last night of your life right? I wouldn’t mind.”

And for a second, no one spoke. Perhaps, it was because all were drunk more or less but that hit harder in that moment. Unsaid words were spoken in silence, the wind carrying the oaths away. And even Levi’s eyes had softened.

Only Hange could say words like that with that face, you thought. You weren’t sad, not really. Because Hange was right. Being a scout meant learning to appreciate every breath you can take, and nights like this were as good as they’d come.

“Aww Hange.” You sighed, grinning back. “Cheesy much? You’re making Levi all squirmy.”

“No, I am not—” Levi’s protests were buried as the group jumped in yet again another session of Levi leg-pulling.

But despite it all, Levi thought.

Pissheads, all of them were. But nevertheless.

He watched you with the corner of his eyes, watching you as you laughed your head off to something Eld said, shoulders shaking, the firelight making your eyes glitter. And you were so close, so close, he could hardly breathe. And the urge to wrap an arm around you, to pull you closer. To feel you against him.Would that be so wrong of him? If he leaned close, would you pull away? But it’s okay, he thinks.

Hange was right.

It’s okay if he dies tomorrow. He wouldn’t really mind.

He didn’t really mind right now either.

He finds it strange that he didn’t really mind it. Any of it.

He didn’t mind Hange or Nanaba or any of them.

He didn’t mind your stupid little jokes, clearly made with the intention to piss him off. He didn’t really mind that you were so close. He didn’t mind that your head on his shoulder. He didn’t mind a lot of things that he thinks he would’ve minded if it was anyone else but you.

He doesn’t really know how it works. He doesn’t like thinking about the strange little feelings in his heart that tugged everytime you smiled, or the way his stomach tightened whenever you flirted with him so casually.

And maybe one day he’ll tell you. Maybe he won’t

Does it matter? Is it not enough to only have you alive and close?

He’s here now. With everyone and with you.

He’s home.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 3

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!

Word count: 3,038

After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.

Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.

She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.

At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.

Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.

“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”

Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.

“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”

Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.

“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.

“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.

But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.

“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.

Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!

“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.

Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”

It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…

Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.

He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.

“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”

They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.

“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”

“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.

She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”

With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.

“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”

“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”

This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.

“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.

Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”

“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.

“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.

She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.

Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.

Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.

Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.

“Mary.”

“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!

“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.

“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”

Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”

Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.

“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”

Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.

Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.

“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.

There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.

“Yeah… me neither.”

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.

“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.

“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”

“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”

“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”

“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.

A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.

“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.

He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.

“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.

“I guess I’ll get used to it.”

Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.

“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.

Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”

“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.

“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”

Earning another chuckle from Y/N he guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.

“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.

A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.

“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”

Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.

“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… imagine how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”

The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.

“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.

“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.

Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.

“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”

Tommy laughed freely.

“Mary, would you give us a moment?”

“What if you need-”

“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.

She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.

“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”

Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.

“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”

“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.

He did, of course he did.

This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.

“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”

He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.

Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.

“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.

“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.

Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”

She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”

“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.

“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.

“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.

A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.

“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.

“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”

He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.

“Woah… Tommy.”

When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.

“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.

Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.

Emotions coming out in the form of tears.

“Y/N… talk to me.”

“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”

He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.

“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”

That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.

“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”

A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.

A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.

“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”

A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.

“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.

“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”

Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”

It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.

“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”

End of flashback.

“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”

Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.

“You deserve everything good in the world Tommy.”

She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.

“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.

“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.

“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”

As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.

Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.

And for now, that was enough.

Part 4

Master list

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[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.

✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.

✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!

✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki. 

 Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.

 Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive. 

 Which I have no issue with fulfilling. 

 My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life. 

 However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born. 

 It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing. 

 I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me. 

 That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision. 

 How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.

 And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage. 

 This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction. 

 It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot. 

 I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival. 

 As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task. 

 Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going. 

 To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present. 

 Maybe tonight reminds him of her? 

 “Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response. 

 The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me. 

 His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks. 

 The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty. 

 But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished. 

 “Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”

 Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them. 

 Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition. 

 Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed. 

 That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture. 

 However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made. 

 So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties? 

 All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view. 

 As always, dinner is silent. 

 Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment. 

 If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan. 

 I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.

 My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction. 

 As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.

 When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together. 

 She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.

 I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that. 

 Not likely. 

 I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why? 

 Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward. 

 Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak. 

 I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”

 “It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me? 

 “There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

 “It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.

 “Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze. 

 He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”

 “Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”

 His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage? 

 This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond? 

 The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.

 No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.

 I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife. 

 But how long?

 How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?

 How long? 

 It possibly couldn’t be more than a year. 

 This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic. 

 However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.

 “Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings. 

 I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”

 “We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”

 “Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew. 

 I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.

 So, I continue. 

 “I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”

 My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way. 

 “If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded. 

 I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love. 

 Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this. 

 Not with Byakuya. 

 By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good. 

 But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning. 

 Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed. 

 I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind. 

 Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him. 

 “Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”

 “Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”

 I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”

 “For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”

 My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed. 

 “You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”

 “But… why?” I questioned. 

 “Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”

 I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”

 “Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement. 

 “It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us. 

 “Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”

 I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”

 “Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans. 

 “You’re being ridicu—”

 “That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”

 “Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”

 It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I. 

 Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter. 

 But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall. 

 Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous. 

 I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before. 

 “Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”

 “Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone. 

 He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh. 

 “I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”

 I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”

 “I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”

 “My lord… please.” 

 He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”

 He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day. 

 I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms. 

 I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—

 “May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core. 

 His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me. 

 When he is like this–I do not loathe him.

 “You may.”

 Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.

 How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so. 

 My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not. 

 He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more. 

 This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched  onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again. 

 Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing. 

 Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans. 

 We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me. 

 “Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to. 

 I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on. 

 My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.

 He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not. 

 No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers. 

 “My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back. 

 “You are art, Y/N.”

 “Address me as your lady,” I demanded. 

 “Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”

 “Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly. 

 His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight. 

 He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste. 

 Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking. 

 He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain. 

 “Am I up to your liking?” He quips. 

 I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”

 The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered. 

  He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers. 

 I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt. 

 I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release. 

 Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me. 

 He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name. 

 “Byakuya…”

 He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”

 “I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”

 “Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me. 

 He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers. 

 Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for. 

 There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before. 

 “Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred. 

  “But I have barely touched you, blossom.”

 I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

 “You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”

 “Yes.”

 “Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”

 “Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”  

 The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.

 “Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”

 “Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand. 

 I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me. 

 For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise. 

 Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance. 

 I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him. 

 He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls. 

 “I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts. 

 I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”

 Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness. 

 I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement. 

 My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating. 

 “You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”

 “More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”

 “So desperate for my come, are you?”

 I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.

  I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets. 

 Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.

 He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue. 

 “When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”

 I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”

 “So come for me, blossom.”

 His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings. 

 I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release. 

 Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me? 

 How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life? 

 “You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”

 “Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”

 “I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”

 “Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”

 “And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”

 Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.

 Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.

 Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt. 

 But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat. 

 An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. 

 I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”

 “For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”

 His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”

 He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”

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[rainylana]

“I’m not jealous.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: jealousy over the new secretary at his job creates tension over dinner.

warnings: smut, language, jealous reader, threats of a spanking, dom eddie, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex.

Forks scrapped against the dinner plates, chewing sounds and food pushing around with the utensil. A candle that still smoked from being blown out. The tv, still on. The lights flickered from a dying lightbulb. Jaw’s were tense and fist were balled up. To say less, the energy was awkward.

“You gonna keep ignoring me?” Eddie put down his fork, looking at you with annoyance.

“Mhm.“ You hummed, kicking your feet under the table.

He’d been late coming home for the fourth time this week. Your relationship with him was at an all time low, tense and angry. Neither of you knew why, but you didn’t like it. You both were always so stressed and angry, snapping and irritable.

He claimed that he had been working extra hours, but you knew there was a new girl working at the shop as a secretary, so your jealousy spiked to an all time high. He’d had the nerve to talk about her, talk about how good she was and how sweet and knowledgeable she was about cars. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to make you jealous.

“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.” He leaned back with annoyance. “What’s the fuckin’ attitude for, huh?”

“Attitude?” You scoffed, putting down your fork. “I do not have an attitude. You’re the one who showed up late. I had dinner ready.”

He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Angel, I told you I took up more hours. That means I’m working more hours.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb.” You argued, pushing your plate forward with an angry huff.

“You’re actin’ it.” He challenged.

“Well, you’re just a dick.” You huffed, pouting your lip. “You should at least come home on time when you know I’ve got dinner made.”

“Oh, my god,” He chuckled in amazement. “What about more hours do you not understand? Are you feeling okay? Did you get your period?” He looked at you inquisitively.

“Oh, typical man.” You scoffed, crossing your arms in a huff. “Blaming my period on everything?”

“Well, are you?” He retorted.

“No!” You snapped, banging your fist against the table. “No, I’m not on my fucking period, Eddie, jesus!”

He groaned and buried his face in his hands, pressing hard against his forehead to numb his head ache. “Whatever.” He was going to drop it, not wanting to argue.

Maybe you were insecure, just simply jealous of the idea of another woman hanging around Eddie. It struck you odd, considering it had never bothered you before. You never typically got jealous. Eddie was always very good at assuring you that you were the only girl he had eyes for.

“Is this about Scarlett?” You could feel his eyes on you, your own looking down at the floor. “Because if it is, you need to tell me instead of biting my head off.”

He took your silence as a yes, and your eyes misted over, despite your best efforts.

“Y/n,” He sighed. “You know that’s stupid. I am not in slightest way interested in her.” He pressed, brown eyes trying to find yours, cocking his head in your direction.

“But you like her.” Your voice cracked, fingers digging into your skin.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “She’s good at her job. She’s got the credentials, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna up and marry her, y/n. Why are you so jealous of her?” He tried to get you to open up, reaching across the table to get you to look at him.

“M’ not jealous.” You pouted, a tear falling down your face.

“Put that lip away.” He said firmly, “Look at me and talk like a big girl.” His dominating tone made your belly warm, sending a chill down your spine that made you look up.

“I’m not jealous.” You tried again, eyes swelling into hearts at his beauty, even if he was irritated at you.

“Could have fooled me.” He raised a brow, crossing his arms like yours had been. “You just having a bad day or what? Because I’m warning you now you’re heading for a spanking if you don’t relax.”

The very threat made you throb, your cheeks flare up with warmth that he didn’t miss. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He gave you a minute to calm down, tapping his fingers against the table, trying to find the words to make you feel better. “Y/n, you know there’s no reason to be jealous over her. Over anybody.” He said gently, holding out his hand for you to hold. He nodded to it, watching you reach out to take it.

“You and l know you’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for. I’m staying late because we need the money, because I’m trying to give you a good life. I could care less about her, y/n.” He squeezed your hand, speaking firmly, yet soft, trying to ease your stress. “I love you and only you, got it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Why would I waste my time with someone else when I’ve got it made right here.”

Your eyes were swollen with tears that fell down you face, and you gave a nod that made him untense. “I know,” You hiccuped. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know, I just miss spending time with you.”

“It’s okay,” He smiled, rubbing your hand. “I just don’t want you worrying about this because there’s nothing to worry about.”

You smiled back and scooted closer to the table, sniffling. “Yeah.”

He reached out to wipe your cheek. “And I know you miss our time together. I miss it too, but we can still spend plenty of time together, honey. We’ll just have to adjust to this for the time being, okay? Nothing to get worked up about.”

You blushed, embarrassed at the tantrum you threw. “I’m sorry again.”

“Don’t be.” He soothed you. “I understand. Come here.” He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling you next to him so he could hug you lovingly. He was warm and embraced you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a tender hug.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a jackass.” He spoke into your neck, torsos glued together.

“Me too.” You muffled into his chest. “I’ve acted like such a spoiled brat.”

He chuckled into your hair. “You have, if I do say so, darling.”

You whined, nestling into his chest. “Not gonna spank me are you?” You smirked.

“I should,” He looked down at you. “But I’m not gonna, since you’ve got a valid reason for being upset, but I am gonna fuck the fussy out of you.”

Your belly twisted and you looked up with doe eyes. “Please, do,”

He hungrily kissed you, knocking your head back as his lips lurched forward in a needy kiss. He pulled you into his lap, your legs going either side of his on the seat as he kissed down your neck. You hummed happily, looking up to the ceiling as he left sticky, wet spots down your skin, suckling and marking as he went. He pulled down your shirt as far as he could, kissing the exposure of your breasts.

“Fuck,” You whimpered, rocking your hips into his growing bulge.

“Watch it,” He bit your shoulder. “I’ll still punish you.”

You clamped your mouth shut and grinded on his bulge as he sucked on your neck, moaning and curling your fingers in the curls of his hair. As much as you loved a good spanking from your boyfriend, he really knew how to make it hurt.

He picked you up and walked you over to the couch, dropping you on your back as he towered over you, smiling happily with shiny teeth. You smiled back, giggling lightly as he reconnected the kiss. He rested between your legs, reaching down to cup your pussy with his palm. You hummed with satisfaction, shimming down your shorts and underwear in one go. You went to go for his belt until he stopped you.

“No,” He grabbed your hand, giving it a delicate kiss. “All about you tonight, baby. Want you to know how much you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He cupped your cheek and continued sucking on your neck, letting you relax as he dragged a finger through your folds, sending a shock through your body. He moved all the way down to your chest before he flung out shirt off, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and spending time to worship each of them, all the while he continued to graze over your pussy.

Then he moved to your arms, licking them with his tongue to your elbow before switching to the other. You were shaking, bucking into his hand and whispering pleas. He got to your stomach, giving a soft kiss to your navel as he finally pushed a finger inside of your cunt.

You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair.

“Feel better?” He smirked, coming up to you as he finger fucked your pussy.

You nodded, voice too full and shaky to speak coherently. He pressed another messy kiss to your lips, attacking his tongue with yours: His thumb went to your clit, circling and pressing, digging and swiping. It made you pant, shake and tremble in his arms. You had to break apart the kiss to cry out, looking up to the ceiling in euphoria. “I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed, rocking your body into him.

“Yeah?” He smiled coyly, entering yet another finger inside of you, rings shining with your arousal. “Fuckin’ cum then you little brat.”

You cried out as you came, your body shaking with pleasure as you sobbed and bit your lip. Eddie rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, helping you through your high as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I need you.” You panted hotly. “Please, need you bad.”

He hurriedly unbelted himself before rutting his thick cock into your pulsing cunt, making you scream as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Fuck,” He groaned, grabbing the arm of the couch as he looked down at his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. His pubic hair grazed at your overstimulated clit, making your muscles jolt and spasm. He thrusted faster and faster, the loud sound of skin slapping mixed with his heavy pants and your choked gasps and whines.

He came within seconds into your cunt, collapsing atop of you with a heavy huff,

[vintageshanny]

For the First Time

Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ❤️

Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘

Fall 1954

Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.

His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.

The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.

Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.

“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.

“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.

“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”

Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.

Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”

Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.

“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”

Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”

“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.

Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.

“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.

“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”

“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.

“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.

“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”

Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”

Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.

“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.

“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.

Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.

“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.

Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.

Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.

“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.

“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.

“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.

“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.

Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.

“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.

“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.

“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”

Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.

“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”

Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”

Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”

Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”

“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”

“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”

Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”

Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”

“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.

“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.

Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”

“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed me? Pt 3

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: stepcest/inappropriate relationships, cheating, kissing, flashback, past minor injury, angry/kinda violent thoughts

Info: honestly ur mom is rlly good at psychological warfare

You ran with Chewie in tow, your lungs on fire as you attempted to get home as quickly as possible. You skid to a stop on the pavement outside your house, the scene unfolding before you hitting you hard. Your mom, stomping out to her car and slamming the door shut. Throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the driveway without even glancing your way. You could physically feel the air blowing past you as she sped off out of the neighborhood.

You walked inside, terrified you’d find a mess. But to your surprise everything was in its place. You unclipped Chewie’s leash and let her roam about inside the house until she found a cool spot on the floor.

You could hear Anakin still working in the garage, he’d turned on some music to keep him company. Maybe you overreacted? She probably didn’t think anything of it right? It’s innocent enough. Anakin is notorious for leaving grease and oil stains in places they should never be. Like the time you painted your palm shoe-polish black just from opening the fridge.

It was nothing. Right? Anakin would be in here upset and waiting for you if something had happened, so everything must be fine. You thought back to your earlier conversation with your mom and recalled how annoyed she seemed about that coding mishap.

Relief spread through you, she was extremely anal about her work. A perfectionist through and through, maybe she’d received word the damage was worse than she originally thought. That would definitely warrant nascar level driving in her eyes.

Even so, you felt the need to placate her when she returned. After a shower and a clean set of comfy clothes you set about cleaning the main floor of the house thoroughly. Scrubbing each surface clean, vacuuming, mopping windex-ing the windows. You even cleared out the leftovers and expired items from the fridge. Going so far as to jot down the items that needed replacing.

Trotting over to the cork board mounted on the wall of the short hall leading to the laundry room and the garage door. This was where everything of importance lived, bills, grocery lists, to-do lists, even a family calendar. Something in red ink had been added to the calendar for tomorrow and you nearly stabbed yourself with a push pin when you read it.

‘Date Night 6:00 @Marzettis’

Written in the ridiculously neat and proper cursive that only could’ve belonged to your mother. If you measured the PSI of your bite force right now, you were one hundred percent sure it would be enough to bite off your mother’s writing hand. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you heard your molars squeak in protest.

Jabbing the list into the cork with the pushpin you let out a breath that you’d been holding long enough to make you alittle lightheaded.

Calm down. They’re married. Married people go on dates. Anakin can’t really reject his own wife can he? No. No he can’t. It’s okay.

You shook out your anger, resolving yourself to ignore the fact that your stomach was churning with nerves and your tongue burned with unspoken venom. There was still things to do. And doing things is good. Scrubbing every centimeter of the bathroom shower with such aggression that you permanently bent the bristles of your favorite scrub brush was definitely a healthy alternative to committing a felony.

Hours passed and Anakin finally returned from the garage sending the current vehicle he was working on back to its owner a full day early. It’s amazing what alittle midmorning pussy pick-me-up can do for a man.

It also probably helped that your tiny arms shaved off at least an hours work of dismantling parts of the engine that were in his way of retrieving the piece he actually needed to extract. Though he’d milk his coincidental success as the result of your passionate rekindling for all that it’s worth. It couldn’t hurt to test out that theory a few times could it?

“Whoa.” He snorted, seeing you to his left scrubbing the inside of the washing machine. “What the hell are you doing?”

You lifted your head a bit too fast and wacked it on the lip of the washer, immediately wincing and bringing a hand to rub the top of your head.

“Apparently I’m doing my damndest to give myself a concussion.” You joked, glancing over at him in his sweaty, greasy clothes.

“There’s this guy who has disgusting laundry, that occasionally leaves residue in the washer.” You dramatically explained.

“So I’m doing him a favor and saving him from an accidental repeat of the fancy hand-towel stain incident of 2020.” You grinned and watched as Anakin mirrored your expression.

“Lucky man.” He chuckled, coming over to give you a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to shower.

Dinner rolled around and you decided to order in, the local Chinese restaurant had the best egg rolls around, and that was just what you needed. You texted your mother to ask for her order and jotted yours and Anakin’s down on a scrap of paper.

~be home alittle late. Just get some Udon for me.~ She responded quickly.

Easy enough. You called in the order and it was delivered and delicious in around 30 minutes. You spread out the feast on the kitchen counter and laughed at Anakin practically drooling over the crab rangoons he was shoveling into his mouth.

“So whens she gonna be home?” He asked, not even bothering to cover his mouth despite chewing like his life depended on it.

“She just said late.” You shrugged, late could mean anything. 10 minutes, an hour; it’s a ridiculous measure of time that you’d always had trouble accepting.

“Well.” He clicked his tongue as he popped open a cold beer from the fridge. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Oh actually, you know what he haven’t done in a while?” You grinned.

“Housewives?” He smirked.

“Yes sir. Take your pick.” You scooped up your take-out box and made a beeline for your favorite seat, the comfy and worn out recliner.

“I’m thinkin’ New Jersey.” He mused, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and searching for your guilty pleasure show.

There’s something comforting about watching someone else’s life like this. Honestly you found it… strangely calming to know that other people have more stressful lives than you. And of course it didn’t hurt that you really loved a bratty cat-fight. Scripted or not, it was undeniably as entertaining as a train wreck.

It would seem that your mother’s definition of ‘late’ was around 45 minutes, she walked in the door as chipper as ever. Doing wonders for your earlier worries; nothing seemed amiss to her.

She took in your comfortable nest of blankets in your recliner, Anakin’s lanky legs draped over the armrest of the couch with his head propped on a pillow. She was… assessing the scene and found no evidence of any foul deeds.

“It was a good idea for take out.” She said, tossing her items on the table. “I’ve missed these noodles.”

“Oh I know.” You agreed. “I saved an egg roll for you.”

“Thanks sweetie.” She said, flashing a blank stare and an empty smile over her shoulder that went unnoticed by the both of you.

“So Marzettis, is that alright for tomorrow?” She asked Anakin sitting on the couch near him with her food.

“That new Italian place?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “That’s the one Obi took Satine to isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” she nodded, seemingly pleased he remembered. “They gushed about it so much I figured it was time we try it.”

“Alright, as long as there’s breadsticks I’m happy.” Anakin smiled.

Meanwhile you were boiling in your seat as you listened to their conversation. Just like in an old cartoon you swore the top of your head would screw itself off and rattle with white hot steam. Honestly, you wished it would. That might just be the only way to get rid of this pressure in your skull without *actually* combusting.

You suffered through their small talk and meaningless conversation about blah, blah and blah. Finally, the episode of Housewives ended and you made your quick egress to your room with a wave goodnight.

You lay awake in bed, planning your to-do list for the next day. You needed to keep yourself busy and entertained to avoid falling victim to the wallowing hole of self pity that is your mind’s way of ‘coping’ with your jealousy.

To-Do:

Wake up

Scream

Nap

Repeat

Perfect.

You woke up, unsure as to when you actually fell asleep; though arguably in a 73% better mood just from the simple fact that you could hear power tools being used in the garage. It was comforting. The noise used to bother you, irk you to the edge of insanity, because who in their right mind would wake up and use the loudest power tools known to man at 6:00am?

Anakin would.

Every time you woke up to the noise, it reminded you of your first kiss, what could be a better way to wake up? Except for maybe an actual kiss from him.

You had stomped from your room to the garage, having been woken up at 6:00am *on summer break* for the previous 4 days. You threw the door open and yelled for him, but he didn’t hear you. Between the loud grinding sound of metal on metal and the earbuds he had in, you had little choice but to pull something dramatic.

Spotting the extension cord you had unplugged it and relished in the momentary silence before hearing Anakin cursing and repeatedly flipping the switch. You stood and observed with a self-satisfied grin, crossing your arms and jutting out your hip as you waited for his small man brain to figure out what happened.

Karma wasn’t something you believed in until right then, because without even looking up he yanked on the extension cord and the hard plastic socket whipped your thigh leaving an almost immediate bruise.

“Fuck!” You yelled, clenching your fists and biting back a string of words so hellish you might’ve burst into flames if you screamed like you wanted to.

Anakin’s head shot up and he ripped out his earbuds, momentarily confused when he didn’t see the source of the very angry curse word. That was until you hissed as you poked at the tender bruise.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, rounding the front end of the car to get to you. “Hey- hey sweetheart, what the hell are you doing down here? It’s awful early for you to be up.”

Oh that was it. That was not the thing to say to you right then. He could’ve called you a crybaby and you would’ve took it better than that innocent comment.

“Yeah? It’s awful early to be using whatever the fuck that thing is!” You grumbled, shaking his hand off your arm. “Do you seriously have to do that this early in the morning? Can’t you do something less… grating?!”

“Do you see any other vehicle here for me to work on?” He deadpanned.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes you know that?” You huffed, looking back down at your leg.

“Did you unplug that grinder I was using?” He asked accusingly.

“Yes I did.” You shot back. “It was getting on my fucking nerves Anakin.”

“Well shit- just let me-“ He sighed trying to pry your hands away from your thigh but you batted him away, swiping a droplet of blood across his wrist.

One of the sharp plastic corners had bit into your skin on impact and caused a teeny tiny nick. Though from the amount of blood trickling down your leg, one would automatically assume you had a proper slice of an injury.

“Baby c’mon just let me see? I’m sorry.” He said in a pained tone, you could tell he genuinely felt bad, even though this was mostly your fault.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” You had scoffed.

“Fine. My liege.” He grumbled sarcastically.

He approached with paper towels and crouched down to swat your hands away and dab gently at the wound, or rather, lack thereof. He attempted to hand you a paper towel to clean off your hand but you declined, anti-politely wiping off the blood onto his dirty work shirt.

“Are you serious right now?” He scowled.

“Are you almost done?” You countered, crossing your arms again.

“Yeah. It’s just a scratch. Turns out every inch of you is just as dramatic as your shit attitude.” He said, standing up, his height making you feel dwarfed.

“Yeah that’s what happens when-“ you started in an angry, belittling tone.

Though you were cut off and the world paused around you. You went stiff as he grabbed you by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss you. Before you even registered what was happening top-side, your body had already begun to relax in his arms. His big strong, work-worn hands pulling you into him while he slipped his tongue between your lips. Gliding lightly just behind your top row of teeth before you finally gave in and kissed him back.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed know content when he released your waist to cradle your head with both hands, your own fisting his shirt as you kissed like your lives depended on it.

“Hey! You up?” Your mom knocked loudly on your door and broke the trance of the sweet memory. That 73%? Reduced to 32%.

“Yes.” You huffed and rolled out of bed, unlocking your door and letting her in.

“Great, I want to borrow a dress of yours is that okay?” She asked, heading to your closet before you could even respond.

No way. Absolutely no way. She was not wearing that.

“No. Pick something else.” You said sternly, taking the red summer dress and hanging it back up.

“What why?” She questioned.

“Because it has a hole in it.” You lied, “can’t have you going on your big date like that.”

“I didn’t see a hole.” She countered, going to grab it again.

“Trust me. There’s a hole.” And they’ll be another one: in the ground for her if she didn’t accept defeat on this.

“Fine.” She scoffed and drug out a few more options under your watchful eye.

“This one?” She asked.

“Yeah that one’s fine. It’ll look great.” You forced a smile and tracked her during her retreat down the hall.

As soon as she entered her room you slammed your own door shut and locked it again. You went straight to your closet and got the red dress, folding it and tucking it into the bottom of your sock drawer.

Was she intentionally trying to piss you off? No. She couldn’t have known. No one could’ve known other than you and Anakin. You had been so careful, going out of town for a date at the drive-in while your mom was away on a business trip. You’d worn that dress for Anakin and only Anakin, and you’d never worn it since that night, that first night.

In your state of confusion you didn’t notice the sound of Anakin’s garage noise die down.

Anakin had stopped for a coffee break and came inside, finding his wife at the kitchen counter. He gave her a quick smile and and poured some black coffee into a big thermos.

“Sugar? ‘Sugar’?” She asked sweetly, sliding the large sugar canister across the countertop to him.

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked slowly as if trying to rewind her words. “Yeah okay thanks.”

He shook his head and shrugged, raising his eyebrows in concentrated thought as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. The only person who has *ever* said that to him is you. That’s such a weird coincidence… what are the chances? It’s not like you call him ‘sugar’ any other time either. Only ever for the sake of making him smile when he fixes his coffee.

“Well. I’ll be out here then.” He said awkwardly, still very much miffed by the odd comment.

She ‘mhm’d’ in response, enjoying watching him slink back into the garage with his cheeks tinted in shame.

By the time 5:30 rolled around Anakin was in a nice button-up and dress pants, looking absolutely exquisite. That man really knew how to wear… anything, and nothing too. You had to ogle him from afar, watching his cute butt in those well-fit pants as he walked out the door following closely behind your mother. Who was wearing your dress.

You made a mental note to find an industrial shredder to take care of that ruined fabric when she returned it.

At Marzetti’s dinner was going well, much better than Anakin had expected to be honest. It was almost nice, in a weird way. The food was good, the atmosphere was pretty… he couldn’t help but be startled every now and again when he glanced over and didn’t see you across the table from him. You’d love this place, and damn he’d love to see you in it. He just knew the lighting would show off those sexy bedroom eyes you *swore* you never knew when you were making.

The biggest downside was that this place was alittle too expensive to be wasted on your mother. This kind of luxury should be reserved for his princess.

After an hour’s worth of awkward small talk and stupid conversational questions, Anakin got up to use the restroom.

When he returned he was shocked to say the least. The table had been cleared and all that remained was the check, and a thick manila envelope, he hesitantly picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

Fast walking to the front of the restaurant he quickly paid, despite the hostess’s request for him to return to his table because ‘payment is collected at your seat’. He fumbled with his car keys and clicked the lock button to quickly locate his black vintage Camaro… no dice.

He stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot, spinning slowly and spotting his parking spot… where the car *should* have been.

“That bitch took my fucking Camaro.” He whispered to himself, internally screaming at himself for being a responsible adult and having a spare set of keys safely stashed away.

He already had an idea of what was in that envelope, but now he didn’t even need to look at the title page. He just needed a goddamn pen.

Final Part

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[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you write some Kylian angst where him and reader have a big argument, he walks out and drives off which makes reader cry, after he left she feels ill then she tries to call Kylian but he didn't answer and then she faints, when he comes home he found her on the floor and takes her to the hospital direct and they found out she is pregnant. After she was really mad at him but forgives him after he apologize many times?

kylian mbappè x reader

trigger warning : angst, mention of cheating, fainting, pregnancy

i never meant to hurt you

“kylian! can you please calm down!” you kept screaming, knowing that he wouldn’t listen to you.

“calm down? y/n the photos are everywhere! who is he? uh?” he asked you, again.

it started as a normal day but kylian came home and accused you of cheating on him. it was ridiculous but there were pictures of you hugging a boy that wasn’t kylian and instead of letting you explain, he accused you of lying and cheating on him.

“he’s a friend! i was at the bar and we bumped into each other, i haven’t seen in for years kylian!” you had enough, he was being childish.

“sure…you bumped into a friend and decided to sit at the table with him and hug him?” he was mad.

“yes! is that so hard to believe?” you asked him. tears falling from your eyes because it was the first time kylian screamed at you.

“very hard to believe you didn’t cheat…i can’t believe that after all of these years we’ve spent together you decided to cheat, on me…” he told you.

“kylian! i fucking didn’t cheat on you! why can’t you trust me?” you almost screamed.

“maybe because all i see was my girlfriend all over a man who wasn’t me?”

“i’ve never, never, said anything when all those models constantly flirts with you even tho you know how mad it makes me, when i see them touching you and hugging you, i never complained and for one time! one time that i see an old friend of mine, who’s actually married, one time that i decide to hug an old friend of mine, you accuse me of cheating? kylian, what the fuck?” you couldn’t keep it in you any longer so you told him everything you wanted him to know.

“you know that’s different!” he screamed back.

“how?”

“those are models i work with!” he explained.

“oh my bad! i only knew kylian the football player, not kylian the victoria’s secret model!”

“you know that’s not what i meant! it’s all my sponsors…you know that! but we are not talking about me! it’s you who cheated and the pictures are everywhere and i can’t barely stand in the same room with you right now!” he said, taking a jacket and his car keys.

“where are you going now?”

“i’m going for a drive…” and with that he left the house, leaving you standing there in the living room.

it’s been thirty minutes since he left you home alone and you started to feel sick. you felt pain in your lower stomach and your head became dizzy.

you reached for your phone in your pocket and you tried to call kylian but he wouldn’t pick up. you tried a few times but the pain became too much and you were terrified.

“please pick up…” you whispered.

but he wouldn’t.

you tried to go from the living room to the kitchen, seeing is drinking some water would make you feel better but you weren’t able to take a few steps forward that you laid on the floor due to the pain.

and then you saw nothing but black surrounding you.

kylian realised that he acted as a child the moment he left you alone. but he didn’t want to come back home, he was mad at himself for making you cry. but eventually he thought he spent too much time driving around the city and all he wanted to do was to apologise to you, so he came back home. what he wasn’t expecting was to see you laying on the ground, unresponsive. he immediately called an ambulance as he tried in any way possible to wake you up.

once you were taken to the hospital, doctors and nurses ran towards you to take care of you.

kylian was panicking, he was blaming himself for leaving you alone, he was blaming himself for not picking up your calls, he was mad at himself for screaming at you and for not believing in you.

he stood next to you for the whole time the doctors took test on you.

“she was stressed and dehydrated” one of the nurses told kylian, hoping he would calm down.

when you woke up, you saw a white blinding light pointed out into your eyes, making you squeeze them violently.

“easy easy…” you heard kylian voice next to you.

“kylian?” you called him, opening your eyes softly.

“it’s me…i’m here baby, i’m so sorry…” he apologised “i’m so sorry for screaming at you, for not believing in you…”

“it’s okay…” you said tiredly. you were still mad at him but you were too tired to fight back at the moment.

before he could speak again, a doctor came into the room with the happiest of the smiles you have ever seen.

he checked you, like every doctor is supposed to do.

“next time don’t stress to much, it will hurt the baby…” he smiled at you.

“the what?” you asked him a little confused.

“the baby…you’re pregnant…the test we ran also showed us a high level of dehydration, probably the reason you fainted in the first place, also, your boyfriend told us you had a little argument before the accident happened so i suggest you to both keep it down, for the sake of the baby” he smiled at you “congratulations!”

you and kylian were shocked. you had planned a lot of things in your life but a kid wasn’t on the list. in that moment you forgot about being mad at kylian, your worry was all about the kid you were carrying.

“we’re gonna be parents…” kylian whispered. you thought he was going to be mad but the tears in his eyes and the smile on his face told you a different story.

“we’re gonna be parents…” you repeated, smiling at him, and in that moment all of your worries began to fade as you let kylian hold you and taking care of you.

[luveline]

What about Steve with a cry baby reader? Like she cries at everything and May be Steve is telling her about something hard but also not that deep like a fight with his parents or they r discussing exes and she starts crying bc Steve didn’t deserve heartbreak

thank you for your request! —steve tells you about his relationship with his parents and gets the comfort he deserves a few years late. fem!reader. hurt/comfort ♡ 1.7k CW mentioned child neglect

Steve indulges you every now and then with old movies. You're obsessed with those musical movies from the fifties, soft colours, cool cat leading men and blunt heroines. Your very favourite are the ones with love triangles, though Steve hasn't ever thought you'd like to be entangled in one yourself. 

Entangled in him, absolutely. "That is ridiculous," you say softly, sitting entirely in his lap, an arm around his neck and another his waist. "She loves him." 

"She does." When the heroine of Young At Heart realised one of her love interests didn't have a present for the birthday party they were going to attend together, she bought one for him so he wouldn't feel embarrassed —yet she's planning on marrying the other man. "Poor Frank. He looks shocked." 

"I'd be shocked. Lucky me, you've never sprung a sudden engagement on me," you say, your fingers rubbing mindlessly into his side. Your affection is often thoughtless. You care for him like another must-do, in time and rhythm with your breathing. 

"To another girl, you mean?" he asks warmly. 

You fluster and rub your cheek against the collar of his shirt, rolled and worn from an endless day on the couch together. He should go up and shower soon before bed, only you feel right in his lap, in no way light but a weight he's happy to bear.

You're skewed sideways, your legs laying across the rest of the couch, his legs kicked up on the coffee table. He keeps trying to force himself up for a shower and you keep leaning into his front or scratching your nails from his ribs to his hip, convincing him otherwise.

"If we ever… got engaged," you begin unsurely, eyes on the television to avoid his gaze, he's sure, "would we have a nice party like that?"

"When we get engaged we'll do whatever you want. We can have a party, send out ivory invitations with eleven point four Times New Roman font. All the trimmings." 

"Eleven point four." Your eyes soften with your smile. "What do you know about invitations?" 

"My mom had tons of stupid parties. She didn't always send out invitations, but when she did, she'd have them done right. I got to lick the envelopes." 

"Lucky Stevie." 

You shift backwards so your weight is on the couch rather than Steve, your back to the armrest and your thighs over his legs rather than on top of him. He can see your face better in this new position, and it's fitting: the love interest on TV starts spouting about how beautiful the heroine is, how her face is a tribute to the heavens if there ever were one. Smiling as you are, Steve has to agree. 

"What were they like, the parties?" 

Steve bites the tip of his tongue. "Fine," he says eventually. "They were fine. They'd set up buffet tables covered in hors d'oeuvres and everyone would walk around in their cocktail dresses and tailored suits drinking champagne and whiskey." His tone lightens toward the end, a put upon theatric for you to make it sound less snotty. 

"Did you wear a suit?" you ask. 

"Button down, usually."

"Nice! I bet you looked adorable. Do you have any photos?" 

"Honestly, baby?" Steve squeezes your leg. "I was miserable, then. You don't wanna see any photographs. I was never smiling."

"What?" 

"I hated my life. All my mom cared about was making us look like a perfect family, and all my dad cared about was work. I was happier when they started taking months-long business trips to Missouri."

"What do you mean?" you ask, putting your hand against his face. It's smaller than his but still big, still encompassing as you stroke his cheek and scratchy stubble. "You… what?"

He tells you because he knows you love him. It makes a hard thing easier, being loved. "Nothing, just, things were bad. My parents didn't even really like me, you know? They bounced me between little league and swim team and basketball when I was old enough. Track, cross country running, everything. Killer sun tan every summer." 

Any trace of a smile is gone from your face. "They didn't like you? What are you talking about?" 

"I was an annoying kid," he says. "You know how I was when we first met? Imagine that and worse." 

"There was nothing wrong with you when we first met." Your lip trembles. 

"Baby," he says quickly, on an exhale, the word half love and half apology, "don't be upset. I'm sorry, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. I'm making it sound worse than it was." 

Your eyes turn glassy. It's awful, being so close he can see the tears well, collecting in the corners of your eyes. You stroke his cheek tentatively and ignore them. 

"It was fine, sweetheart, really, I had everything. They'd leave me a fucking credit card when they went away, I never had to ask for anything. They gave me a car for my fifteenth birthday… I think they thought it was my sweet sixteen." 

Your face crumples like a wet paper towel. You try to fight it but you're a heavy crier and you always have been. It shocked Steve when you first met, how quickly you can fall into tears, but it doesn't necessarily mean you're extremely upset. He can maybe fix it before you give yourself a headache if he tries. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, dotting a kiss on the meat of your thumb. "I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me." 

"I do feel sorry. I feel so sorry," you say quietly. 

"Don't cry…" Steve shifts into a better sitting position as the first tear trips over your waterline. Your hand falls to his collar. Your fingertips rub his collarbone. "I was lucky, I had everything I needed." 

"You just told me your parents didn't like you, Stevie, I wouldn't call you lucky. That they went away for months– How old were you?" 

He winces. "Fifteen?" 

"You were still a kid." 

"I was old before my time." 

"No, you weren't." You sniffle. "I didn't know about that, Stevie. I didn't know about any of this, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I never told you." 

You bring both hands up now, placed gently against his chest, talking to him with a tenderness that makes his body ache, "If you think that it didn't matter, I'm really sorry. Imagining you that young, sitting there thinking they didn't like you? That breaks my heart." You're not overly dramatic despite the tears, but you say it with conviction. "You're not supposed to feel that way." 

Steve laughs quietly. "I know that, dummy. Why're you this upset about this? It was years ago." 

"Because it happened to you," you say, pouting at him sympathetically. "I don't know. I guess I figure how heavy that must be carrying around this whole time, thinking they didn't like you and that it was your fault." 

Steve tries to say something, his mouth dry as sand, but he supposes he had said that, in a way. It is what he thought, what he thinks. If he were better, if he were more interesting, more attractive, more talented, they'd stick around. He pushed himself in every sport they'd let him play hoping he'd see his dad standing in the bleachers one day. 

"You're not annoying," you say, wiping your tears. You square your expression into a steadier set. "You're amazing. If they couldn't see it then and if they refuse to see it now, that isn't something you did, Stevie. Maybe they gave you a car and an Amex card, but what you deserved most was–" Your determination to calm down wanes as your voice turns airy and scratchy, like you're trying not to sob. "You deserved to feel cared about. 'N' I'm sorry you didn't, because I love you more than anything."

Steve pulls you in for a hug. Mostly because you need one, but it doesn't hurt to hide his face from you know. His eyes burn, his heart pounding in his throat and between his ears as his arms climb up the length of your back. He focuses on that, the feeling of his hands and his bare forearms against your soft shirt. His chin goes over your shoulder and he presses the side of his head to yours with more force than he intends. 

"Don't wind yourself up over it," he murmurs. "I know it sucks, I promise I get it, and I love that you're sorry, I love you, but it's not worth crying over. They're not worth it." 

You tuck your arms behind his shoulder. Steve indulges in your smell, the warmth of your closeness. Talking about his parents is like poking at a purple scar. It's healed for the most part, but it's far from invisible. He usually ignores it all. 

"Is it weird that I'm kind of vindicated by your, uh, reaction?" he asks under his breath, as though someone might hear him and call him out for it. "I don't want you to cry, but…" 

"I'm in your corner." You pull him impossibly closer. "I'll always be upset for you. Even if you don't think it matters anymore, that's the kind of stuff that stays with you, you know?" You kiss his hair. Twice. A third time. "Sorry, I know I always make stuff about me, crying 'n' all." 

"That's not true," he murmurs, rubbing your back. 

He hates that you're crying, but he's glad, too. Glad all that pain isn't made up. Your reaction is proof he didn't just imagine how much it hurt to always want something he couldn't quite grasp. 

"You didn't deserve that," you say. 

"I know." 

"I love you." 

He knows that too. "I love you. You gotta stop crying, okay? You need your tears for the end of the movie when he crashes his car. How are you gonna bawl your eyes out for Sinatra if you've wasted them all on me?" 

You laugh wetly. "I think I've made a wet patch in your hair." 

Steve relaxes, reassured at the sound of your laugh, precious as spun silver even doused in waterworks. "That's cool. I needed a shower anyway." 

—

thank you for reading!

[therealvinelle]

Would Carlisle/Alphard work? (Platonic or romantic)

... curse tumblr for I had drafted my reply to you. ALAS.

No.

Carlisle is not for Alphard

Alphard is an extremely cynical person who admires Tom Riddle for his strength and infallibility. Tom is the most extraordinary person in the room at any given time, and always true to himself. As far as Alphard is concerned Tom is a demigod among men, the sort of natural force who doesn't live by the same rules the rest of us do and wanting him to change is the last thing on Alphard's mind.

Would he admit this to Tom's face, never, Tom has enough of an ego. Alphard will call him a lunatic and ridiculous, and mean every syllable. Did he fall in love with a violent lunatic with impure blood who was beating up not just Alphard, but his closest relatives and all his friends in school, also yes.

It's the whole package of Tom that makes him appeal to Alphard, from the physical beauty to the uncompromising personality, to the way he can't ever be fully predicted, and the tragically romantic backstory. Being in love with him is just a point of fact for Alphard at this point.

Even becoming Lord Voldemort is something Tom never claims is anything but what it is, and while Alphard is horrified and heartbroken Tom remains the person he always was. Readers of The Man Who Would Be King will remember Alphard lasted one week before being married to Tom again.

Carlisle, by contrast, while unbelievably beautiful and just as extraordinary, is a man who has made self-delusion a cornerstone of his life. He loves his family and wants them to care about human life as much as he does, so he'll give them little nudges like going to their victims' funerals or have family votes where thankfully the majority voted against killing an innocent girl, and not think about what it says about Edward that he killed people for pleasure for four years because- well, he came back.

And he walks around talking about how great, how humane, how wonderful his family and their way of life is. While living among humans, thereby risking the deaths of innocents for no reason other than "it's our lifestyle!" (and the even worse, underlying reason of "if they don't live with humans they might forget humans aren't food...")

Loss of control isn't even a hypothetical, this happens to the Cullens semi-frequently.

Alphard would think he's a fool and a killer by proxy, and despise and pity him. To him, Carlisle is easily worse than Voldemort.

Alphard is not for Carlisle

The trouble with Alphard is that he is what Caius would be if Caius was worse. He's mean, he's judgmental, and he's cynical, all qualities Caius shares only Alphard is somehow worse. He's just so mean.

More troubling yet, he is very principled and harsh on himself but lives cease to matter to him where his loved ones are concerned. Had Aro said "Here is my Horcrux, it's a fifteen-year-old Aro who must be fed a soul to gain a body" Carlisle would have pressured him to either repair his soul, and left when Aro didn't do so. Alphard, by contrast, "Ope, guess we're finding him a soul then."

Alphard is a very ruthless person, he may be principled but should his line of reasoning lead him to murder being the solution to a problem a loved one is having then murder it is.

Alphard also reacts to Tom becoming Voldemort much the same way he would infidelity, as it's not really the suffering Tom inflicted that bothers him but the betrayal of his own character as Alphard knew it (and he'd have had a much harder time getting past actual infidelity. That would have been a crisis). His faith is restored because he sees enough of the goodness he fell in love with. His niece Bellatrix is much the same, of sure she's done bad things, Alphard is intellectually aware of this fact. It's getting hard to deny that she probably has tortured and killed people, and delights in it. Well, have you considered the fact that she's precious and perfect?

Andromeda's marriage to Ted is on par with Tom and Bellatrix's life choices in that Alphard's not thrilled with it, but he can look past it because he loves her that much.

To Carlisle this man is genuinely insane and terrifying. Carlisle can move past his friends killing to live because it's what they've always known and he sees the good in them in spite of that. Alphard would frighten him, there is plenty good in him but Carlisle would correctly put together that the man is one line of reasoning away from killing anybody at all.

Carlisle stays as far out of his way as he can, and warns others to keep their distance from this one.

Can these two even be in a room together?

I think if they meet in the library and only talk about books, they'll have a grand time. Just don't let them talk about anything personal, at all.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers: 1x05 The Duke and I

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

It's episode five! Things are getting spicy! ;) While there's not a ton in this episode, there are some BIG developments...

Tomatoes

Alright, so I should mention before we get too into this scene, that it kicks off with mentioning the money issues the Featheringtons are about to have. It's part of the reason Portia is gonna push Marina marrying Colin so hard. Having a wealthy Bridgerton in her pocket kills two birds with one stone.

Alright, so this is day who knows how long of this courtship has been going on, and after the events of last episode, Penelope is no longer thinking this whole thing is cute or tolerable anymore. It's a combination of -- she's fucking with the man I love and the man I love is being fucked with, which are two different things. Yes, she is protective of her feelings and has no desire to watch Colin be with someone else. But she's also very protective of Colin in general - because they do have a relationship. It may not be romantic, but there are mutual feelings of friendship, and she sincerely does not like that Marina is manipulating him.

But of course - the look on her face here is pure jealousy. Because Colin is bringing flowers to Marina every day. And Marina doesn't really care all that much, but oh, how Penelope would love to be courted, love to be romanced, love to have the attention of any one showering her gifts and compliments. But the fact that it's not just some guy that she could live vicariously through Marina with, it's Colin, which makes it intolerable.

Meanwhile, oh Colin, lost in his own fantasies. He loves playing this role of romantic hero. He brings in flowers every time for Marina -- because it's a way to show he cares about her. It's also, probably, proper gentlemanly contact to bring gifts during a courtship. But it's also interesting -- that the whole reason this tomato discourse kicks off is that he wants to surprise her, be unpredictable, make himself stand out when it comes to the courtship.

Also, I'm really entertained by the thought that a bushel of tomatoes would be used as a courtship device. Nothing says romance quite like the tomato. (As much as I'm being cheeky about it, I do love a bit of spontaneity and absurdity in a relationship, so I do approve of Colin's ridiculousness here.)

I LOVE the tomato discourse. I love it.

I love that Penelope can't even help herself by injecting her comments. She is gonna meddle, but it's going to be on a simpler level to start with. Just a throwaway comment that really doesn't raise eyebrows (at first) that Marina doesn't like tomatoes. Which undermines the act that Marina is throwing at Colin (and Pen so notes this -- and, honestly, she's probably a bit amused that Colin picked something that Marina probably does actively hate).

Then, of course, after Marina kind of brushes that comment off, Pen digs in a little more -- suggesting the best place to go get tomatoes is... Greece. (My god, this cracks me up every time -- is Greece known for it's tomatoes??) And I love that she says this with a smile, playing it off as if she were just trying to be helpful. Then she suggests Colin bring her back a bunch (because I'm sure they'd survive the trip) after he gets back from Greece. Oohh, Pen, it's a longshot stall tactic, but if she can just put this courtship on delay...

It's fascinating watching Marina in this moment. She KNOWS that Penelope is up to meddling. She knows that she's intentionally trying to stop things from progressing forward, but the interesting thing is that she doesn't know why Pen is doing it. I mean, I kind of think it's obvious, but Marina, at this point, has begun to trust Penelope as a friend -- so it just comes off as her being super weird.

Colin, meanwhile, is a bit baffled by Penelope. He doesn't really catch on that she's meddling -- thinks, more so, that she's being a little obtuse, and that is not catching on that he'd rather see how things work out with Marina. But...

There are a couple of interesting dynamics going on in this last little bit.

First of all, the comfort in which Pen and Colin speak to each other says a lot. There's no formality between them. They speak with each other at ease, in the way siblings would talk with each other. Colin, no doubt, probably does think of Pen a bit like Eloise in this moment. He even calls her Pen, here, which is kind of unusual when you think about it, because they're at her house and not his. And the way he kind of dismissively states he's unsure of his travel plans -- it's said, almost irritatingly, in the way you'd want to tell your younger sibling to bugger off, I'm trying to hook up with this girl...

When Pen brings up his travel plans, she mentions that he's always been interested in travel. And while this is a calculated thought - a way to re-inspire desires that he has probably for sure talked about at great length when she's been over to visit Eloise -- I think there's some sincerity here, too. I think she can recognize a desire to go out and see the world, and the idea of him closing the door on that opportunity -- especially for Marina, who is manipulating a relationship with him, and will saddle him with fatherhood at such a young age really does get to her.

Which is why it's more complex than -- I have a crush on a boy, if I get him out of the country, he won't hook up with the pregnant lady and be stuck with her.

Colin then has a line that REALLY sticks out to me. :: 'Were I to go, there are things in London I'd miss more than seeing the world.'

This line hits a little harder when you sit down and think about it. I don't doubt that Colin has an adventurous spirit -- more so than either of his older brothers. But I think also, unlike them (well, Benedict is going to go about it another way) Colin is searching for something. He isn't sure what, but travel seems to be an opportunity to find out.

Marina is a purpose. She's a reason to stay. She's a reason to do the things that his heart really desires to do. She's a person to protect. A person to start a family with. A person whom he does want to figure out his sexual desires with. A person who will let him satisfy the role he thinks he's supposed to have in society. And if that person is right there - then why travel in the first place? He doesn't need to search for something that is right there.

The fascinating thing is that it is better for Colin that he does end up going. He kind of needs those experiences to gain new outlooks on life, to clear his head, to be at peace with himself, and to understand what really missing something when he's away is. And, of course, because he'll find that he'll get to fall in love in a deeper way while he's gone (of course - through his correspondence with Penelope).

And, of course, i can't help but go back to thoughts on The Odyssey -- which is one of the myths embedded in Pen and Colin's story -- the story of a world weary soldier just trying to get back home to his wife... Penelope.

Colin thinks he understands what he's saying when he says that line. But he doesn't truly get. And won't ever if he choses a path with Marina - one that is doomed to be a (possibly) unfulfilled life.

It's always so funny to me when TV characters have private conversations literally two feet away from people who shouldn't hear it, lol.

Pen is probably well aware that the childish meddling she's doing isn't really working, so she goes to appeal to her mother. She points out that Colin is young, yes, but she tries to appeal to her mother's sense of logic. She points out that there may not be enough time to get them married since Colin is young and may not be ready for marriage. Portia considers, but does have her own plans...

Ug, poor Pen, the pining does get me. It'll be alright, girl...

A Plan...

If there's one thing you can say about Marina, it's that she knows how to play this game, and how to do it well so that she can get what she needs. Is it manipulation? Yes. Is she doing it out of self preservation? Absolutely.

She completely plays Portia here (Portia, isn't necessarily stupid, either, but is trying to be calculating in her own right). Marina appeals to Portia's sense of status -- and her desire and need to maintain that status. So Marina basically cuts her a deal. Let me go after Colin, and I'll repay you by letting you stay in your good standing with the Ton. And so the two of them forge an alliance.

But, ah, all this talk of seduction and manipulation -- that's breaking Penelope's heart as she hears it. It's bad enough that the guy she loves is interested in someone else. She has always known or felt that she'd lose Colin some day to another woman. But to lose him to people who do not have his best interest at heart? It's devastating.

But still... she does not go first to her best line of defense, Lady Whistledown... that's the last possible card she'll play.

A Wedding

This is, like, the saddest wedding ever. Man, they look miserable.

Colin seems fine about it. He smiles a bit because it's Daphne, and she's getting married. But not a whole lot of insight to pull out here. He's so detached from this plot line, lol.

A Proposal

So, right before we jump into the Pen and Marina stuff, Cressida approaches Daphne and basically says -- I hope some day you'll pay me to keep quit about the shit I saw in the garden. Like, the girl had a blackmailing mindset even here. I mean, obviously Season 3 didn't come out of nowhere, but it is interesting the seeds they did place for things so early on.

Anyway... Penelope's back to her meddling -- this time trying to get Marina interested in ANYONE else. And I mean, Pen's got a good eye. She's watched all of these people, and I trust that she's attempting to set Marina up with a good (enough) match.

After Marina becomes stubborn about Colin, Penelope opens up. While she's not entirely truthful, she is very open and does lay a lot of it on the line. She admits she does care for Colin. She admits that she just cannot stand back and watch him be manipulated into a life that he didn't sign up for. While she is holding back on the extent of her romantic feelings, she is being emotionally vulnerable, in a way to get Marina to empathize with her. I mean, she is being sincere, and cutting a lot of the mind games crap she had been doing. But she's hoping that a more open approach will help change Marina's mind.

Of course - Marina is out to win. She sees no other options, and she does throw some of it back in Penelope's face. She knows that Colin is a sure thing, and that she'll be treated right. She is not going to lose that chance - because the alternative are the Rutledges of the world. And she just can't take that chance.

It's kind of funny that she still doesn't get how invested Penelope is in this, but she is giving Pen her own moment of emotional vulnerability. She is running out of time, and she will do what she can to secure a good future for herself, and however Penelope feels about it, doesn't really matter because it's ultimately not about her. (And, you know, she isn't wrong, even though we may side with Pen on this one.)

We also learn that Rudledge is engaged and off the market (darn) so Portia tells Marina she'd better get working on Colin... there is a time limit after all.

Before we get to Colin though... we have this brief moment between Pen and Eloise. They've had their fight, and now it's awkward. Neither really quite knowing what to say. But it'll be alright... They always find their way back to each other. But no time for that now! Other plotlines to get to! lol

Poor Pen, no where to hide in this brightly lit, very white room. She can't hide from Eloise. And she can't hide from Marina and Colin. It's just a lot... Just a lot to witness, and she can't do anything about it.

Not at the moment anyway...

The reason the earlier episodes showed Pen and Marina getting along well is to establish the respect Pen has for Marina and vice versa. But this is the turning point. Because Pen had tried to be open about her feelings and Marina was just not playing that game.

Oh, there is some anger in Penelope's eyes. You do not fuck with Colin. You just don't. Penelope would help her with any, every other man in all of England. Just not hers. Pen could accept if Marina truly loved Colin, she probably would let him go.

But the 'act' is going into full swing now, and Pen just cannot with it. She just cannot with how Marina is going to completely manipulate the situation. And even though Pen doesn't get to see what we're about to -- she knows what's happening. Unfortunately, poor Colin can't.

So, what is the FIRST thing Marina do? She needs to get them alone, so she pretends she's not feeling well. And I mean, she gets him. She so gets him. His protector/hero complex is activated and he quickly is not only concerned, but gets her out of there.

And oofff, this next scene is almost hard to watch, because every beat of it on Marina's end is calculated. It's masterful really.

Oh, poor Pen, having a moment for herself of sadness.

But I also just thought of something... had Marina chosen anyone else, she could have really helped Marina. The Lady Whistledown of it all could have helped her. Penelope watches everything, she knows things, and she could have helped Marina in snagging any other man at that party. Of course, she was never going to give up her identity, but it's kind of interesting to think of the what ifs...

Oh man, Marina's smug look when they enter the study. She isn't even trying to hide it.

Colin. You are such a dumbass. (Said with all the love, cause I do love his dumb ass.)

It's funny, Colin is such an interesting study because he's got such a duality about him. Social decorum is something he thinks about (and will very much so in this scene), but he also isn't really one to play by the rules.

In this instance, though, it's his youthful inexperience and naivety that is his down fall. Does he want to be alone with Marina? Yes. But does he sense that she's setting this up so they can be alone? Not even in the slightest. He's still in protector mode. Even the scandalous shutting of the door is about her comfort, not about what she's trying to get.

He may be a little slower, but he's not a complete idiot, and when he takes a moment to asses that she's fine, he gets it. And the wheels start turning. And yeah, he does want to hook up with her. His little grin at his fortune says that.

Marina, however, just has zero time for the drawn out romance Colin has playing in his head. She is direct and gets right to the point. And I love that there's a little moment of freak out that crosses his face. Sure, he wants to hook up -- but he clearly never has before, because the minute she moves forward he does have a sheer moment of panic before he regains himself. He wants her. But he has no idea what he's doing.

And then we get this. This almost kiss. And there's just... a lot to this little moment. A lot.

Because I think it speaks to Colin's fantastical idea of what romance is vs the reality of it when it's staring him in his face.

I do think, yes, base line, he wants to kiss her -- among other things. And I do kind of wonder if he even has kissed anyone at this point, because he's kind of acting as if he's in this place where it just feels... not right. And, not even coming from the societal pressure (which I'll get to in a second) but from a place where -- he has all of these romantic little fantasy of what this moment should be like, and having a rushed moment in the study the way Anthony probably would do it, is not really Colin. Or.. this youthful version of Colin who doesn't have the experience.

I have to wonder if this younger Colin has all these fantasies about kissing his wife for the first time at their wedding and the magical moments he know does happen afterwards. And I think that's why I do think it's a good thing all of this happens because it does end up smashing his idyllic version of romance to allow him to be open to what real romance is -- not the ideas he's made up in his head, but what is really there.

(And I mean, I guess I'll get into it maybe later? I do have headcanons for Colin -- such as his first time with a woman was probably bought and paid for at a brothel. That after this whole Marina thing kind of sours him on love for a while, it pushes him to go out and get some experiences. It allows him to understand the world a bit better - so when he finally does see Penelope, he'll understand it better.)

So he stops the kiss. And Marina, who is savvy as fuck for navigating all of this so quickly, doesn't push him. She's gonna seduce him, but she'll do so on his terms. And appealing to his greater sense of romanticism and honor. Which really works in her favor, ultimately.

Colin can barely believe he's stopping - because he probably is a bit overwhelmed by whatever body reaction is probably happening in that moment. He still considers himself a gentleman who does things in a proper order.

And it's funny, as much as he ends up being a bit of a rule breaker, it's almost not intentionally. He wants to always be doing the right thing. He wants that honor. He wants to be the gentleman. He wants to be seen in good standing by the greater society. So he won't do anything to compromise himself, but more so her. And so he holds back because this is not the proper way. So, yes, I do think some of society's pressure is on display here, too.

Oh, but Marina, girl is so calculated in this scene. She plays on his gentlemanly nature. Plays on his need for honor. And pushes hard on his desire. You almost feel bad for how easily Colin cracks. He is very much a 'my wife' guy. Even here with Marina, that tendency is here on display.

The jump to marriage is bonkers quick. Yes -- it is partially fueled by society's restraints on sexual desires. But it's also a romantic fantasy Colin actually wants. He wants a wife. He wants that life. He's just never found that emotional connection to really fuel him to go for it. But he thinks he has that with Marina. He thinks that she wants that life with him, too. And, of course, now that they've been alone and courting, he thinks it is the proper step to take. So he does.

It's sweetly in earnest. And a bit unsure of a proposal. He doesn't doubt his own feelings, but he doesn't know where Marina stands.

When Marina not only says yes but looks ecstatic about the idea, he just lights up. Romantic achievement fulfilled. That almost kiss did make him unsure of things. But now that marriage is on the table. Now that they can have this nice long engagement and a fancy wedding and this idyllic life of love he's always heard about from his mother, he is so, so excited about it. He thinks he's getting everything he's ever wanted.

And... he thinks he's giving her everything she wants. He talks about her deserving a grand wedding. He is (almost hilariously) breathless when he says it'll be wonderful. (There is really a little ten yo girl living Colin's heart, lol)

Unfortunately, Marina's excitement is not for the same reason as his own. She's thrilled that this whole plan has worked as quickly and as swimmingly as she wanted to. And... she didn't even have to sleep with him to get a proposal. Win-win, really.

Oh, Colin... he feels everything so intensely. It's a shame this is a mix of lust and youthful ignorance fueling romantic fantasies that this proposal comes about. And Marina was hoping for all of that. He promises that he'll give her everything she wants, and he does in this moment. It's a shame that what Colin doesn't realize -- it is just a fantasy, and ultimately, not what he wants.

Oh man, that look Marina gives before she turns around. Diabolical. I don't think of her as a villain. I really don't. I think she's a young woman who is desperate and willing to do what she can to ensure her own safety. But she is playing with his heart, and knows it.

Look how giddy he is, oh Colin... Well, they promise not to say anything -- because seriously, probably not a good thing to announce your engagement at your sister's wedding. But Colin's probably going to be sleeping well tonight.

It's interesting -- thinking about how Penelope is currently a little heartbroken while all of this is going on. But, you know, she's had a long time to have to deal with these problems, with the emotions. She is able to handle a lot of these harder emotions and process them better because they've been going on for so long.

I think when the shit hits the fan with Marina, it's going to hurt so much worse in some ways. It's like the opposite of the she fell first, he fell harder trope. He's never had to experience heartbreak on this level before, and it'll feel devastating. It's no wonder he spends all of season 2 spiraling. Huh.

Anyway, on that happy note, we get to move onto episode 6! Which is my favorite Polin episode for Season 1 :)

[As an aside, this episode ends with Daphne and Simon's first time, which -- has a lot of similarities, beats, and dialogue as the Polin mirror scene. But the atmosphere, tone, and even acting are a lot different. Idk - I find it really fascinating. If anyone else does, let me know, and I can do a side by side analysis of it, cause there are some interesting things to dissect there.]

[parkerpeter24]

Request where reader and Peter are married and on vacay she’s been trying to hide she’s sick because she’s pregnant and she tells him at dinner 🤗

cute cute cuteeee!! this turned out longer than i’d expected 😳 kinda proud of it!

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

requests are open

masterlist

peter parker, your husband, was as bad at connecting the dots as he was at keeping secrets. usually he was the one who’d sneak around. at a time you didn’t know about his alter ego– spider-man– he used to hide his costume and his web shooters but now he did it with the bruises littering his face. he would steal your concealer on various occasions and try to cover them up. however, you’d know about them reinstating his inability to hide things, especially from you.

but this time, it was you. you were keeping a secret and not just anything.

you were pregnant.

but not quite ready to tell peter, not knowing how he would react. it wasn’t like you guys hadn’t he married for three years and known each other for all eight of them, but having a kid together was quite a big deal.

it was hard to keep a secret. even though peter would never guess, you didn’t want him to mistake your morning sickness for something serious and fuss over it.

it was harder to keep a secret from peter when you two were supposed to be under the same roof for most part of the day.

tony had decided it was time all the avengers had a break so he’d flown everyone to bali. so now you were laying beside him in this extraordinarily expensive hotel room as the morning sun peaked in through the curtain.

you rubbed your eyes, shifting slightly as the first thing you felt was the weird taste in your mouth. and you just had to make a run for the bathroom before you puked all over the soft, lavish carpet under your bed. peter woke up with a jolt when he felt you throw his arm away from your body. he watched with sleepy eyes as you slammed the door to the bathroom.

“babe?” he hurried out of the bed. he could hear you retching on the other side of the door, “baby? what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing!” you responded, “be out in a minute!”

it took you around two minutes to collect yourself back and brush your teeth before you made your way out of the bathroom. not so much to your surprise, peter’s hands grabbed both your shoulders as soon as you opened the door, “is it food poisoning? maybe it was the hotdog we had before dinner. it must be that! don’t worry, i’ll get you medicines.”

he started leaving but you stopped him, “peter, wait!”

“what?” he turned around.

you wish you could tell peter now but this just didn’t feel like the right moment. you sighed, “you’re not um, wearing any pants.”

“oh. right, silly of me.” your husband chuckled sheepishly as he grabbed his pair of pants that he’d left on one of the armchairs in the room.

you were sure peter would have found out in a week when your baby’s heart started beating, anyway. you felt a little ridiculous as you took the medicine from his hand and assured him that you would take it before you sneakily flushed it down the toilet.

peter noticed you being weird at breakfast too. you poked around at the salad in front of you. the smell of olive oil was making you nauseous itself and you were sure you’d have to rush if you had it. you would really go for a burger right now. honestly, you weren’t up for running three flights of stairs.

peter placed a hand over yours, running his thumb over the ring that rested on your finger, “hey, you okay? did the medicine not work?”

you gave him a shrug, “not hungry.”

“take it easy, parker.” wanda interjected, “just get her a burger and some fries.” she gave you a wink before taking a bite out of her bagel.

she knew.

you gave her a small smile.

thankfully peter took wanda’s advice and got you some fries, a burger and an added milkshake, which made you love him even more than you ever thought you could. you threw your arms around his shoulders as he placed the brown bag containing your breakfast on the table back in your room.

peter hugged you back as he smiled. however, his smile quickly faded away when he felt your shoulders shake against him, “y/n, are you-”

his sentence was cut short when you sobbed into his chest. his hand instantly wrapped around you protectively, “baby, what’s wrong?”

you just shook your head as you continued crying. peter rubbed your back until you calmed down. you pulled away to wipe your tears while the brunette’s arm remained intact around your waist, “i’m sorry.”

“you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” he said as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, “is everything okay though, hun? you’ve been acting kinda... weird. which isn’t bad, i-i mean, i’m just worried about you.”

“i’m okay, peter. i just got a bit emotional.” you gave him a little smile.

he nodded, though still unsure.

peter was nothing short of a delight for the whole day after that. he served your breakfast for you and even denied going to the beach with the others because you didn’t feel like going, even though you’d told him you’d be fine in the hotel room. then you two spent the day watching disney movies.

in the evening peter asked you to get ready for dinner and you were a little confused because you thought you two were going to go downstairs and have dinner with the gang. but peter insisted you get ready so you did.

peter then took you to the beach and the two of you walked until a candlelit table was in front of you. you gasped with joy, “remember our first candlelight dinner?” peter asked as he watched your smile grow.

“i do! i was so nervous.” you chuckled.

“you were nervous? i was freaking out! i didn’t know what to speak. you looked so gorgeous.” peter gave you a small smile, “you still do.”

“you’re way more gorgeous.” you gave him a little kiss, “oh my god. i just remembered i spilled wine all over your favourite shirt that day.”

peter laughed. and just like that, you knew. this was the moment. it was your chance. you didn’t wanna wait for peter to figure it out himself or for him to hear the baby’s heartbeat. you wanted him to hear it from you.

the two of you sat down and peter ordered your favorite for both of you. you smiled, watching you two’s fingers interlaced. peter ran his thumb over your ring finger, a habit of his that made your heart swell every time.

“peter?”

“yes, beautiful?”

“there’s something you gotta know.” you stated as your heart started beating a little faster.

“what is it?” peter asked, giving you his fill attention, a look of concern etched over his face.

“i’m... uh, i’m pregnant.” you stated, watching his face for any major expression.

“yeah, what about that?”

“i know! i couldn’t believe it eith- wait what?!” your pupils enlarged in surprise.

“you’ve been pregnant for around five weeks, what’s new with that?” peter asked.

him being so confident made you doubt if you’d already told him. peter laughed softly at your confused expression. you looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “is this funny to you?”

“no! no. not at all.” peter gave a little squeeze to your hand.

“how’d you know?” you asked, your expressions softening.

“well, i noticed the little changes your body was going through.” peter explained, “and i found the pregnancy test you forgot to throw out.”

“oh shoot-” you facepalmed, “that’s so stupid.”

“hey, it’s alright.” peter chuckled, “i would have probably been worse at keeping a secret like that.”

you laughed, “guess we’re both bad a keeping secrets.”

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 7: My House of Stone...

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: sorry this took so long i got such bad writers block Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

When Arthur didn’t show up after a few days, you tried to not let it get to you. He was a busy man, no doubt even more busy because of the job involving your husband. You ignored the fact that he proved that he would fight everything to come and see you, consequences be damned. It was almost out of character that he hadn’t come to see you, or had reached out to you in some way.

When a few more days passed with no sign of the outlaw, you found yourself going back over your last encounter, when he had taken you out on Bear. You don’t recall any hesitancy or doubt in his eyes when he was with you, or maybe you were too blind with your own desire to see it. That thought made you reel, panicking that you made him uncomfortable and scared him off. 

But you didn’t let that thought fester for too long. You spent your days doing menial tasks with no real passion, trying to just pass the time. It worked, mostly, but you were getting antsy. How you wished you had an easy way to leave the prison that had become the house. 

Even more days passed, each day becoming more and more anxiety ridden. Instead of worrying that you’d scared him off now, you were worried that he was dead, or in shackles, about to be hung up in the town square. Your nights were becoming restless, images of his dead body haunting you when you closed your eyes. You’d wake with bloodshot eyes, even more tired than you were when you went to bed. 

You eventually stopped counting the days, not wanting to know how long he’d been gone for. You tried to spend more and more time outside of the house, bringing blankets and books from Hans’ office to your garden, waiting to escape the confinement of the walls around you. It helped, for a bit, yet you still found your mind wandering, constantly worrying about Arthur. 

But no matter how hard you tried, you found that you couldn’t hate the man. Upset, sure, angry, definitely, but not hateful. No, your heart wouldn’t allow it. You were still in love with him, and the lack of contact from him was hurting you, both physically and mentally. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, hard to find it in yourself to take care of your body. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He had wormed his way into your very being, and left a hole that couldn’t be fixed. You just hoped that he’d return soon and make you feel whole again. 

It was during this time that you decided to draft a letter to your family, hoping that it would alleviate the loneliness that was once removed by Arthur. You sat in Hans’ office, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you, the task proving to be more difficult than you imagined. It had been two years since you’d last spoken to them, and you had no idea what to say. How much was too much? How honest was too honest?

You decided to keep it simple, and you began to write. It took a few tries, but you eventually produced a letter that you were satisfied with. 

My dear family, 

I have missed you all, incredibly so. Words don’t even begin to do it justice. I apologize for not reaching out earlier, but my circumstances wouldn’t allow it. I do so hope to hear back from you, and perhaps have the pleasure of seeing each other in the flesh soon. 

Your daughter,

You finished it with your name, but just your first name. Tucking it into an envelope, you addressed it with the address Arthur had provided you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw Arthur’s handwriting, rereading the note he left you.

Making sure to leave the office as you found it, you made your way downstairs, setting the letter on the kitchen table, ready to grab for whenever you decided to go into town. You spent a few days at home after writing the letter, hoping that one night you’d hear the familiar hoofbeats of Bear, but were left disappointed each night. 

Eventually, though, you needed to leave, if just for a short bit of time. It had been roughly three weeks since you’d last left the house, and if you had to look at the same things again you were going to snap, leaving the house as a pile of ash. So, with a small purse with some cash, you took the letter and yourself and left. 

If it weren't for your current mindset, the walk to the main road would’ve been relaxing, enjoying the noises of animals and the cool breeze against your skin. But everything is annoying you now. The wind was causing your hair to blow in your face, and if you had to hear that birdsong one more time, you were going to lose it. Or maybe you’d already lost it. 

The sun blinded you as you left the shade of the thick forest, stepping out onto the main road. You always hated doing this, but you were desperate. Slowly, you began to walk towards Rhodes, keeping a close ear for any riders. 

It took a few minutes, but you eventually heard someone approaching from behind, and you perked up, putting on your friendliest face as you stopped and turned. It was a carriage, and you began to wave them down, but they ignored you, not even bothering to glance in your direction. Rude.

Still, you kept on, not letting one bad interaction deter you. A few more carriages and wagons passed, with similar responses. Everyone looked grim, you noticed, stone-faced and somber expressions. Now you were starting to feel dejected, and you debated just heading back to the house; you weren’t that far anyway. 

Before you could come to a decision, a single rider passed you, glancing at you even though you didn’t wave him down. Something like recognition flashed across his face, even though you’d never seen this man in your life. He had longer, black-brown hair that was tied into a small ponytail, with a mustache and goatee, and a bowler hat protecting his tanned skin. He had a blue denim jacket on, with a red handkerchief around his neck, and you noted that he was surprisingly well dressed for being an alone traveler on the road. 

“Mrs. Kerrigan?” He asked, almost in disbelief, like you were a creature from folklore, pulling his gray and white horse to a halt beside you. 

You braced yourself, ready to bolt as you stared at the man. “Yes?” You asked, suspicious. It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize who you were, but they’d never acted like they knew you personally. You dove into the deep recess of your brain trying to remember who he was, but drawing a blank; he was a stranger to you.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned, which was a tad bit off putting from a complete stranger. Still, you couldn't detect any malicious intent in his words.

Sighing, you answered truthfully. “I’m tryin’ to get to Rhodes. You… you don’t happen to be goin’ there, do you?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, truly sounding regretful, but then his face turned thoughtful. 

“Ah. No worries then. Have a good day.” 

You tried to continue moving, but his smooth voice made you halt again. “But it’s close enough. I can only bring you to the outskirts, though.”

“You’d do that?” You smiled when he nodded. “I can pay, too. Thank you, Mr…?”

“Escuella. But you can call me Javier.” He extended a hand to you, helping you on to the back of his horse. You sat sidesaddle, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between your bodies, your hands resting on his sides.

Javier. You remember Arthur telling you about someone with the same name, and although you highly doubted that this was the same Javier, you wished that he had a drawing of him. “Thank you, Javier.”

“Of course, Mrs. Kerrigan.” Javier gestured his horse forward, setting an easygoing pace; not too fast, not too slow. A small pang hit your heart as you remembered the last time you were on a horse, your body pressed up to Arthur’s, his rough voice in your ears, the playful glint in his eye. God, you missed him. 

“I’ll pay you when we get to town,” you repeated after a few minutes of riding, and you felt Javier chuckle. 

“I appreciate it, but I think Arthur would kill me.” Your blood ran cold, and your heart began to race just at the mention of him. So this was Javier, the one Arthur traveled with in the mountains to rescue John. It makes sense then, why he seemed to recognize you.

“Well, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” you commented. 

“He’s talked about me, then?”

“All good things,” you reassured, and he just shook his head, not believing you. You desperately wanted to ask him about Arthur, if he was alive or not, but you weren’t sure if any answer he gave you would hurt less. “Does… does he talk about me?”

Javier snorted. “Yes and no. He’ll talk about you, sometimes so much that we want to kill him, but then refuses to answer any of our questions. Some of us even doubted your existence,” he laughed, “but I’m glad to see that we’re wrong. You’ve made him real happy. I haven’t seen him this… optimistic in a long time.”

You were glad he was facing forward, so he couldn’t see the way those words broke you. Biting back tears, you kept your voice steady. “How is Arthur?”

“He’s fine?” He responded, very clearly confused as to why you didn’t know. “He’s been, well, ‘helping’ your husband.”

Oh. “So the names he got led to somethin’?” 

“Sure did. We were able to track down suppliers, and disrupt his business there. He’s yet to reach out for help, but Dutch doesn’t think it’ll be long now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” You weren’t lying. “But he’s well?” You couldn’t help but ask about him again. 

“Yes. It’s been a crazy couple of days, but we’re pulling through.”

Only a couple of days. You refrained from asking what he’d gotten up to earlier, not wanting to appear desperate, even if you were. “I’m glad. And don’t make me regret saying this, but if anyone ever needs a place to lie low for a bit, point ‘em towards my house. At least when my husband isn’t there.” Even though you’d barely met any of the members, you couldn’t help but feel protective over the gang because of how deeply Arthur cared about them. If there was anything you could do to help them, you would.

“I’ll be sure to let them know. Thank you.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Arthur was right about you; you’re too kind for this world.”

You murmured a small thanks, and the two of you fell into an easy silence for the rest of the ride. When the familiar outskirts of Rhodes appeared, you felt Javier begin to grow nervous, his head moving back and forth, like he was on the lookout for something. “We can stop here,” you said once you reached a long abandoned house, the yellow paint chipping and peeling. 

Red dust kicked up when your feet hit the ground, and you quickly took out a few bills, handing them to Javier. “Again, I can’t take this,” he held up a hand, a small smile on his face.

“I ain’t payin’ you for the ride, though. I payin’ you to deliver a message to Arthur,” you countered, but he didn’t relent. Sighing, you tucked them into the saddlebags before facing him with your hands on your hips. “Tell him to come see me. Please.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know. Do you have a ride back home?”

“I can arrange something’. Now go; you look uncomfortable just being here.”

He chuckled, not disagreeing with you. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”

“You too, Javier. Stay safe.”

He nodded, smiling kindly at you before turning, taking off back down the road you’d just been on. Turning toward the town, you began to make your way to the center of town, right to the post office in the railroad station.

It was eerily quiet, more like a ghost town than anything. There wasn’t a single soul lingering on the porches or the street, and the shutters of most of the buildings were shut, which was extremely unusual for the middle of the day on a weekday. There weren’t even any animals out; it was just you and the dust. 

After a few tense minutes of walking, you eventually climbed the stairs of the railroad station, the creak of the old wood almost making you jump. It was just as empty on the inside as it was outside, the other person in the building, the person behind the counter, who smiled tensely as you entered. 

“Good afternoon, missus,” he exclaimed, the chip in his voice far too forced. “Say, can’t say I’ve seen you ‘round here before.”

“You’ve probably met my husband, Mr. Kerrigan,” you responded, making your way to the counter, pulling the letter from your bag. 

“Ah yes. Well, how can I help you, Mrs. Kerrigan?”

You slid the letter across to him. “I’d like to send this, please.”

“Not a problem at all. That’ll be five cents.”

Sliding him a nickel from your bag, you looked around as he stamped the letter, putting it in the appropriate mailbox. “Is there anythin’ else I can help you with?”

“Why is it so… dead?” You glanced back at the man, who had visibly paled at your question. 

“Interesting choice of words, ma’am. Let’s just say we had an… incident yesterday. Nothing befitting a proper lady like yourself.” He explained, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

Ominous. Realizing you weren’t going to get far with him, you wished him a good day before leaving. You made your way to the general store; Mr. Banks would let you know. 

The bell chimed as you entered, and you called out for the older gentleman, and you heard the sound of crashing from the back room, clearly scaring the poor man. A disheveled Mr. Banks peeked around the corner, visibly relaxing when he saw it was just you. You opened your mouth to try and apologize, but he cut you off. “You didn't bring that ‘deputy’ with ya, did you?” He asked, growing tense again.

“Arthur? No, he’s not with me.”

“Good. I’ll kill him on sight if he even dares to step foot in Rhodes again. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Physically, no. “Mr. Banks, what in the world-”

“Him and his buddies shot up the town yesterday. Killed the good Leigh Gray, Lord bless his soul,” he shuddered, and you halted in your tracks, your somewhat amused smile at his ramblings falling. 

“What?”

He pointed to a newspaper on the counter, and you cautiously stepped toward it. Bloodthirsty Gang Kills Dozens was the headline, a few paragraphs of text following below it. Your head spun at the new information, blocking out the words of Mr. Banks. You couldn’t gauge what you were feeling; you weren’t disgusted, or revolted, even though you knew you should be. You weren’t surprised; you knew that Arthur had done things, unspeakable things, and would continue to do so. You weren’t angry at what he did, but you were angry at him for putting himself in harm’s way like that. 

“I’ll take the paper,” you cut Mr. Banks off, sliding him a few bills, and he slid the paper to you. You barely mumbled out a ‘good day’ before you left, nose deep in the paper as you headed back to the railroad station, sitting on the bench waiting for the carriage services, and you read as you waited. 

You read all about the way the gang played both families, something you had no idea was happening. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t tell you; you knew that some things had to remain secrets. But you didn’t care much about the detail, eyes scanning for any telling of death or injury to the Van Der Linde gang. You knew that Javier probably didn’t lie to you, but you still needed to be sure. 

Your heart dropped when you saw that there was indeed one confirmed killing of a member of the Van Der Linde gang, but you didn’t recognize the description they provided. The others, it seemed, were still at large, and unhurt. Knowing how deeply Arthur cared about each member of the gang, you knew that this death was probably weighing heavily on him. If only he would come and see you, just so you could help him.

The sound of a carriage approaching had you standing, tucking the paper under your arm. Getting in, you directed the driver to your house, and you quickie got lulled into the rocking rhythm of the vehicle. You ignored the paper under your arm, even though it felt like a million pounds.

The ride felt like forever, but eventually you pulled into the familiar forested area of Ringneck Creek. The driver helped you out, and after you paid him you headed inside, feeling like you were just going through the motions. Despite everything you’d learned, there was one thing that really bothered you. The shootout had only been yesterday; what had stopped him from seeing you during the previous three weeks?

Even though it wasn’t late, you found yourself getting ready for bed anyway, keeping the paper on the table downstairs and grabbing a book from Hans' office before curling beneath the sheets. Your eyes skimmed the words, not processing them, your brain too distracted by today’s events.

You weren’t quite sure how you “read” for, but you must’ve fallen asleep at some point. A loud noise, like a door being slammed, had you bolting upright, pulled out of your uneasy slumber, the book luckily not hitting the ground. When you didn’t hear anything for a few moments, you thought you had just imagined it, and you went to try and go back to bed. 

That was until you heard the sound of heavy footfalls. Shit. Tearing off the covers, you padded lightly across the wooden floor, wishing that Hans wasn’t so opposed to keeping guns in the house. You had nothing to defend yourself with, so kept to the shadows as you left the room. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you flinched when you saw the shadow of a man making its way toward the stairs. You began to back away, back into the safety of your room, until you recognized the familiar silhouette of the man. Don’t tell me…

Cautiously, you made your way downstairs, barely making a noise. You had to stifle a gasp once you reached the bottom, your suspicions confirmed when you saw Arthur standing in your dining room, back to you, glancing over the newspaper you’d set on the table. His hair was longer, his clothing unkempt, but it was still the same man you had fallen for.

Too many emotions ran through you, from anger to longing to desire to sadness. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face, and so you just stood at the bottom of the stairs, shocked. 

Eventually, Arthur turned, the only sign of him being startled was his eyes widening. Those beautiful blue eyes that had haunted your thoughts, that you longed to see again. You let out a small gasp then, audible only to you. It was really hard to remain still, every fiber of your being craving to be in his arms again, to feel his lips on yours. 

Neither of you knew what to say, just staring at each other. Even in the low light, you could see that Arthur looked exhausted, bags under his eyes and his shoulders sagging. Being on the run would do that to a man. “So Javier wasn’t kiddin’. You’re alive.” You didn’t care that your voice was scathing. 

Javier must’ve said something to him, because Arthur didn’t seem surprised that you mentioned the other man. If you ever met him again, you’d have to thank him for sticking to his word about delivering a message. “I…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ll leave.” Oh, how you missed his rugged voice. 

Arthur turned to head back out the front door. “Stay. Please.” You called out, making your voice softer, stopping him in his tracks. Don’t leave me again. 

He took a deep breath before turning back around, somethin like guilt on his features. “It’s been three weeks, Arthur.” You sighed out.

“I know, darlin’.” You nearly broke then, his name for you crumbling your resolve. Yet you held, fingers gripping the railing with a death grip. “There was an… incident-”

“The shootout in town,” you cut him off. “Don’t sugarcoat things. I know what you get up to. I know the things you’ve done.”

Arthur didn’t bother to try to disagree, and you were thankful for that. “After the shootout in Rhodes, I couldn’t risk comin’ over to see ya’.”

“I understand, but that was only a few days ago. Arthur, it's been three weeks.” You didn’t bother to hide the pain in your voice. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

“Then where’ve you been?” He didn’t respond, and you laughed bitterly. “I thought you were dead, Arthur. Or you were about to be strung up in the gallows. Or you… I was worried sick, and the only reason I knew you weren’t dead was because Javier told me.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want your apology, I want an explanation.” You let go of the railing. “Why?” Arthur hung his head, and you began to step towards him. 

“You deserve somethin’ better, darlin’.”

“And you thought the best thing for me was to leave me alone and heartbroken. And who is this ‘someone better’ I deserve? Hans? No, I don’t think so.”

“I ain’t much better! You said it yourself, you know the things I’ve done. I’ve killed people, so many I’ve lost track. Hell, I was the one who killed Sheriff Gray. My whole life I’ve tricked and duped and betrayed people; I ain’t a good man’. You’re too sweet, too kind. You deserve somethin’ better than that, than me.”

“You think I didn’t know that you’ve hurt people, Arthur? You didn’t think when you said you were an outlaw that I wouldn’t, I don’t know, realize you’ve done some unlawful things? I know what kind of man you are, and who you claim to be, yet when I think of you I think of a man that is also good, generous, sweet.” You continued to move towards him, even as he shook his head. 

“A man that would come check up on a sad woman in the woods just ‘cause she asked, that would find her family’s address so she could write to them.” You were close enough to him that you could reach out and touch him.

“A man that’s made my miserable existence feel worthwhile, that has become the best goddamn part of my life.” His hands were shaking, you found when you took one of them in both of yours. Those familiar calloused fingers were oh so comforting, and you brought them close to your heart.

You took a deep breath. “A man that I’ve completely fallen in love with.”

His hands stopped shaking, or maybe yours were. You couldn’t tell. 

Arthur was speechless, but you could tell that he didn’t oppose your confession, because he pulled you closer. His free hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “You shouldn’t…”

“Too late now, Arthur.” You breathed out. “I… I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He repeated again with more edge, but you could see how conflicted he was. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from it.”

“How can you be so certain?” 

“Because every damn good thing in my life gets ruined. Every person I lo- care ‘bout, I make their lives worse, and they regret ever openin’ their hearts to me. Did ya know I almost married a girl, then I ruined that. I- I had a kid,” his voice grew thick with emotion, “and he’s no longer with us. All because of me, and the life I lead. All because wherever I go, someone’ll be huntin’ down the people I care about, no matter how innocent they are. I couldn’t live with myself if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me.”

Oh. You were speechless now, and your heart ached for the man in front of you. “Arthur… I can’t guarantee that somethin’ won’t happen to me, but do you really wanna live your life in fear, pushing away those who care about you?”

“I can’t lose you, darlin’. I can’t.” 

“But you almost did, pushin’ me away like that. What then?”

“I…” he took a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to hold the side of your neck gently. “I don’t know.”

“So don’t push me away. Yes, it’s terrifying, caring about someone like this. You don’t think I worry ‘bout you every time you’re not here? That I don’t worry that we’ll be found out, and this whole thing will come burning down around us? But isn’t it worth it? ”

He sighed, before resting his head against yours, his hat sliding back a bit. “It is.”

“Then mean it. To yourself. To me.” His lips were so close now, and you wanted nothing more than to close the space between them. You let go of his hand, choosing to rest your hands on his chest instead. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your fingers, just as fast as yours was. “I love you, Arthur, and there isn’t a damn thing you can say that’ll change that.”

Arthur exhaled shakily, and even in the dim light you could see a small smile on his lips. “And I’m grateful for your stubbornness.” You chuckled lightly at his words. “I’ve been a fool-”

“None of that. You ain’t a fool, Arthur.”

“Maybe not. But I’m a fool for you.” You rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, knees growing weak at the now grin on his face. That dazzling, beautiful grin. But his expression sobered, and you temporarily feared the worst. “You should know that I do feel the same, darlin’. I really do. It’s just, I can’t…”

“You can’t say it back,” you refrained from sounding too crestfallen. You could be content with the fact that he agreed he felt the same. For now. He shook his head, looking ashamed, and you forced his gaze back up to yours when he tried to look away. “Then show me. Show me that you love me.”

“I could spend every last minute of my life showin’ you, and it still wouldn’t be enough time,” he chuckled, his thumb brushing just below your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and something darkened in them. “But I can certainly try.”

He leaned in, finally closing the distance, and you felt like you could cry with relief. His lips felt even better than you remembered, more desperate than you’d ever felt them. You dropped his hand, arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss you, his hat falling to the ground as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, the hand still holding your face brushing your cheek. “Darlin’, you’re cryin’,” he murmured, his brow creasing with concern. 

“Good tears,” you laughed, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “I just missed you, so much.”

Another flash of guilt appeared on his face. “You promise?”

“Promise.” He regarded you for a few moments, and you nearly pulled him back down yourself, desperate to feel his lips again. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait too long, because he was kissing you again, weeks of pent up longing, fear, and love being poured into it. It made you dizzy, and your fingers tangled further into his hair, eliciting a groan from the man. 

Arthur’s free hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kissed you. They gripped even harder when you ran your tongue against his lips, not expecting you to take control of the kiss. He willingly let his lips part, letting you explore him with ease. 

You hadn’t even realized Arthur had moved until you felt your back hit a wall, the back of your head cradled by his hand. It made you groan, breaking away from the kiss, and Arthur wasted no time trialing his lips down your neck. Your head rolled back, letting out pleased sighs and light moans as he littered kisses across your neck, his facial hair ticking the sensitive skin.

“Arthur,” you groaned, hands still in his hair, and you felt him hum in response. 

“My beautiful girl,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything, and you were grateful for the stability the wall provided. The hand on your waist moved down, securing under your thigh and lifting it so that your leg wrapped around him. You inadvertently began to rock your hips, eliciting another delicious groan from Arthur.

“God, Arthur, I need you.” You didn’t care if you were pleading. You’d been plenty patient; you were allowed to be greedy. 

“I’m takin’ my time with ya. We’ve got all night.”

Another groan tore from your throat. All night. “You promise?” You asked, echoing his previous words. If he was promising all night, then you could be patient for a little while longer.

You felt him grin against your skin, nipping lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Promise.”

Author's Note: surprise javier appearance bam!

[corpsebasil]

The Pirate Lord Part 2

the future queen of Ravka doesn’t even know she’s going to wear a crown

You didn’t talk to him for almost two days.

He practically chased you around, vying for your attention as you avoided him like the plague. He’d lied. And not a white lie—Sturmhond had lied about his entire identity. His life. Well, you supposed, not Sturmhond. Because your captain and lover, the man you wanted to marry, was Prince Nikolai Lantsov, the youngest prince of Ravka.

So you spent your hours away from him processing and memorizing the palace, ducking into random rooms and examining anything you were allowed to see. You had to admit, finding out you were sleeping with a prince wasn’t the worst shock of your life.

You’d smacked him, though. Pretty hard.

“Y/N,” a voice called and you turned to see Tamar approaching, her eyes comically wide as she did a small spin in the hallway. “not too bad of a hovel, is it?” She asked, letting out a low whistle.

“It’s ghastly,” you lied, smirking. “how will we ever survive this?”

“Same way we survive anything.” She mused, flicking a very expensive looking vase as she passed it. “Lots of rum. Lots.” Then she stopped, tilting her head at you. “You should talk to him. He misses you.”

“Talk to who?” You asked, a thread of annoyance in your tone. “Sturmhond, or Nikolai?”

“They’re the same man.” Tamar rolled her eyes, swinging her arm around your shoulders and pulling you down the hall. “Come on, Y/N. We didn’t go through all that hell on the waves just for you two to be pissed at one another.”

“He can apologize to me.” You said, indignant. “Eventually.”

“Saints save us all.” She grumbled, leading the two of you towards the hall for dinner.

-

Nikolai had told you the truth only after you’d docked and made your way into Ravka. And he’d done it in the most ridiculous way possible—simply removing his coat to reveal a second one underneath, smiling and holding his arms out comically to you. He’d even had the audacity to say “surprise” seconds before you whacked him hard on his good shoulder.

The arrow wound was healed, but his muscle was still tender.

Now he watched you at dinner, still sitting with his crew like he always did. The difference now was that the table was far more elaborate, and there was a very comforting lack of eggs and pickles. Tolya and Tamar sat across from you, bickering over Saints knows what, while Nikolai sat beside you as you pointedly ignored him.

“Y/N,” he began, tilting his head at you. You pretended not to hear him, picking at the bowl of fruit on your plate. Fruit for heaven’s sakes. You swore never to eat a pickle again. “Y/N, please, you wouldn’t have been with me if you’d have known.”

You glared down at a strawberry, spearing it rather aggressively with your fork. He sighed and turned in his seat, placing his hand near your arm, but not on it.

“Come on. You know that I’m right.”

Tamar and Tolya were suddenly very, very interested in their own plates, the rest of the crew busying themselves with literally any topic that came to mind. You could’ve sworn someone mentioned how good the plumbing was and blocked them out.

“You don’t know that.” You said, voice cold as you shot him a look. “Everything the two of us have is based on honesty. How am I supposed to trust anything you say? You’re even acting different.”

“I cant be Sturmhond here, Y/N. I have to behave in a certain manner—”

“‘A certain manner’,” you sneered. “How royal of you.”

“You are still my Second, and the love of my life. Being a prince changes nothing—”

You stood up abruptly, almost knocking over a glass as you left the table. The crew stared, stunned, as Nikolai quickly followed, chasing after you out of the dining hall.

You stormed down the hallway towards the door that you knew led to the gardens, and past that, the lake. You’d barely stepped outside before he jumped in front of you, holding his hands out in supplication.

“Y/N,” he panted, walking backwards as you moved towards the lake, out of sight from the palace. You spotted some sort of gazebo in the distance, decorated with cushions and seemingly abandoned, and walked towards it. “Y/N, you have to believe me.”

“I don’t.” You gritted out, stomping over to the cushioned structure. “Have to do anything.” You plopped down onto the cushions, splaying out in a very messy manner. You huffed as you looked up at the ceiling, at the marble arches. “Don’t lie to me ever again.” You ordered, tossing the prince a glare.

He had the audacity to roll his eyes as he sat down beside you, shrugging off his heavy jacket and tossing it aside.

“I told you I wouldn’t.” He said, tilting his head. “But I swear I won’t. Scouts honor.” He held out his pinkie and you snorted, hooking your own through his.

“That’s a very powerful oath, Sturm—” you paused, eyebrows furrowing. “Nikolai.”

“Actually, that’s Nikolai Lantsov—Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Soldier of the King’s Army, Grand Duke of Udova, and second son to His Most Royal Majesty, King Alexander the Third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne to you, Second.”

“You’re insufferable.” You scoffed, but smiled at his familiar smirk, that mischievous light in his eyes back. “Don’t…act in front of me. I know that you have to be all posh and regal or whatever in front of the others, but not in front of me.” You frowned a bit, unsure of why it hurts to say these things to him. “I fell in love with Sturmhond.”

He swallowed, looking away from you, and sighed.

“You might love him,” he said, softly, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. “but I love you. And I had hoped that that would’ve been enough.” He gave you a look, a calm look that masked his pain and heartache, and you regretted your words the moment he moved to rise.

“No, I—” you grasped his arm, rising onto your knees as you tugged him back down. “I do love you. I do. I’m just going to have to get used to the changes, that’s all.” You knew your expression was pleading, and still you pushed on. “Just two days ago you were a pirate. This is a big switch for me.”

“Privateer.” He mumbled, but allowed a small smile to appear on his handsome face. “I’m sure you’ll adjust when you realize just how much I’m going to spoil you now that I’m in Ravka.”

You let a grin wash over your face as you tugged him forward by his shirt, pressing your mouth to his own. He laid you down eagerly atop the cushions, hands sinking into your hair as he kissed you.

“I love you.” He murmured, losing himself in the feel of you as you freed the prince from his clothes.

-

Your wedding had been an event to mark the century.

You’d had it on your ship, traveling all the way back to the ocean to marry your king. And as you kissed him, your crew and the guests clinking glasses and congratulating you both, the shell at the base of your collarbones lit up, sending tendrils of light and shimmering color across your skin.

“Queen of the seas.” Nikolai mused, glancing over at the water. Colorful fish could be seen under the surface, and when he took your hand and rested it on the rail, you could see the siren’s magic flowing all the way down your body. “I think the ocean approves, don’t you?”

You grinned, head still slightly heavier than usual from the crown that now rested upon it. It had been crafted by Nikolai himself, for you, and his outstanding powers of creation had made you a gorgeous pearl encrusted crown worthy of any queen of the seas. You turned to him, moving into his embrace as he grinned down at you.

“How do you feel about being a Queen?” He asked, raising a brow. His own coronation had been only a month before, an event at which you’d cried an embarrassing amount.

“I feel like being bedded by a king right about now.” You teased, wiggling your brows as he laughed.

“Am I to expect you to start giving me commands?” Nikolai tilted his head, tugging you closer. Nearby, Tolya was still celebrating, having had caught the bouquet. “You’re no longer my Second, you know.”

“You can start calling me Captain if you want.” You teased, leaning forward to press a long, soft kiss to his mouth. He was yours. Officially, now.

Although, you would force him to sail with you someday. Just for fun.

Yeet