#he tries so hard to suppress his feelings for her and he's SO bad at it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

josephquinnswhore · 7 months

Text

Red Wine & Reparation - joel miller x female reader

Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.

Word Count: 7k

Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??

Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.

You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”

The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.

“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”

His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”

He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”

“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.

But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.

“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”

Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.

In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”

“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.

You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.

Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”

Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”

Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”

“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”

“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”

You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”

“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.

You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”

The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.

“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.

“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”

A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”

Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.

“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.

“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.

His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.

“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”

“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.

It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.

“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”

Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..

Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.

He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”

“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.

“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”

“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.

“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”

You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”

“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..

“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”

His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”

You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.

He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”

He actually asked..

“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”

It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.

“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”

How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.

Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”

The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.

Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”

“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.

“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”

As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.

Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm

Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..

You. 10:47 pm

No sweat. What time were you thinking?

Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm

Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?

You. 10:52 pm

No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.

Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm

Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..

You. 10:53 pm

Great! See you then handsome. 😉

Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm

See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊

You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.

The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.

You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.

You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.

It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.

“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.

Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.

As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.

“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.

“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”

He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.

“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.

“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.

“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”

Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”

You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”

When you split..

Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”

You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”

“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”

The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”

He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”

The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.

Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”

“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”

Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”

You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”

“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”

Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.

“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.

“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”

“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.

“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”

Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”

“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”

You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”

With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”

“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.

You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.

Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”

With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”

He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.

As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.

You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.

“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.

You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.

His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.

“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”

Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.

You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”

“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”

You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”

His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”

He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”

Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.

“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.

Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”

His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”

“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”

“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.

Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”

Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”

He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”

His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.

He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.

You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”

He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”

Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.

“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”

The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.

You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”

“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.

The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”

He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”

“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.

Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”

You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”

“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”

Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”

You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”

Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”

You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.

The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.

Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.

But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..

His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.

“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.

He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..

His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.

Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.

His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”

Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”

He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.

“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.

Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.

Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.

Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.

“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.

You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.

“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.

He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.

You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..

You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?

With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.

Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.

He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..

Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.

“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.

He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.

You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.

“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.

“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”

After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.

“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.

He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”

Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.

#young Joel miller #hbo Joel miller #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #Joel miller x you #Joel miller #the last of us

745 notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 21 days

Text

this post has been haunting me. i'm weak for beefy men in pretty underwear and @theweewooshow left an open invitation in the tags that i could not resist 😭 i was gonna say i can't believe this is the first fic i'm posting about these two, but honestly it kind of tracks.

hope yall enjoy!!

One of the things Tommy's always liked about Evan is how emotional he is. Expressive, is the word, maybe. Vibrant. It was one of the first things he noticed when they met. Poor kid was radiating nerves. The way his hands fidgeted in his pockets, and he wouldn't stop pacing while Tommy was double-checking their gear.

It's kind of fascinating to Tommy, watching Evan light up when he's happy, wilt when he's tired, always seeming to feel every emotion with his entire body.

All that to say...Tommy notices right away that something's up. There's a tiny, reactive part of him that wants to say wrong, something's wrong, but Evan's not pulling away, he just. Froze up for a second. It could've been a twinge in his bad leg when he climbed into Tommy's lap, or any number of other blips that won't completely derail the nice evening they're having.

But on the off chance...

Tommy carefully rearranges his grip, settling his hands comfortably on the small of Evan's back instead. "Everything okay?" He keeps his tone as light as his touch, and watches Evan's expression closely. Their eyes meet only briefly.

"No, uh, yeah." Evan's gaze skitters down, roaming Tommy's face, then darting away. "I, um." He grimaces, and shifts in place. The warm weight of his thighs is distracting. He's still a solid presence in Tommy's lap, and making no move to change that, despite his sudden singular focus on toying with the drawstring of Tommy's sweater.

The corners of his mouth are pursed into a frown that Tommy thinks about kissing away. That thought gets gently pushed to the side. Talking first, he reminds himself. Especially because... "If you're not in the mood anymore, that's okay."

Those—pink, perfect, God—lips part around a huff, half-curved into a grin. "That's kind of the opposite of the problem," he laughs.

Tommy can't help but mirror the smile, even if it's only a tiny one. "So, what is the problem?" He trails his fingertips up the line of Evan's spine, and down again, retracing the path when he feels Evan lean into the touch.

"It's...well, not hard to explain, exactly, but. I kinda wasn't expecting to explain..." He sighs, loud and exaggerated, and falls forward to plant his face in the crook of Tommy's neck, where he continues, slightly muffled, "How do you feel about lace?"

It's not what he was expecting to hear. Though, he's not sure what he was expecting. "Can't say I've thought much about it, to be honest."

He dated a girl back in the day who liked lingerie. She was always asking him what he thought about various scraps of silk and velvet, and it was all...very awkward. He always told her he'd like her just as much in cheap cotton and a borrowed t-shirt, which. In retrospect, was ironically true. When she broke up with him she accused him of being cold. Withholding. He brushed it off as neediness on her part.

He suppresses a wince at the memory.

Evan wraps Tommy's drawstring around his index finger, slowly curling it around his knuckle. "My ex. Taylor. She liked it. She liked...me. In it."

...Oh?

He can't picture it. Not in a bad way, he's not put off by the idea—very much the opposite—but when he tries, the mental image just...blurs. His brain is trying to mesh Evan with his hazy memories of things he never paid much attention to, and it's coming up frustratingly empty.

Tommy is very proud of how calm and steady he sounds when he says, “And…this was something you liked too?”

Warm air tickles the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Why are you telling me this now?” He feels like there’s something he’s missing. Something obvious he should have realized, if only he wasn’t so preoccupied with the way Evan’s thighs are flexing, his hand sneaking under the hem of Tommy’s hoodie, skin-to-skin, palm skimming his side, and the hot, tingling press of mouth-on-neck.

“Wanna find out?”

The second he nods he almost wishes he hadn’t, because all at once Evan is gone, and Tommy’s left sitting on his couch in a horny daze, blinking up at his slyly grinning boyfriend. As nice as the view is, his lap is cold now.

Evan thumbs his waistband. There’s excitement sparkling in his eyes, bright and shining, but he hesitates a moment before taking a deep breath and dropping his shorts around his ankles.

Oh.

So…lace. Tommy’s having feelings about lace. Not much in the way of thoughts yet. But feelings, definitely. The sudden rush of heat that burns through him leaves him a little light-headed, all the blood in his veins fizzing like he’s a can of soda someone just popped the tab on. His fingers itch to reach out, he aches with want, desire pooling low in his gut.

Thing is, they’re not even anything too fancy, as far as Tommy can tell. He has vague memories of his ex—and good God does he suddenly feel like he owes her even more of an apology—in complicated woven ribbons and things that probably looked like a crate of bungee cords in whatever bag they came in. Evan is just wearing…panties. Simple, pale blue, lacy panties. There’s a little bow on the front, and it’s unreasonably cute.

Evan hikes up his t-shirt a little, so Tommy can get a better look, presumably. Which he appreciates. He’s losing his mind a little over the trail of light blond hair under his belly button disappearing into soft blue lace. He wants to follow it with his tongue.

The attention is making Evan hard. Tommy’s not sure what his face is doing exactly, but whatever it is, Evan seems to appreciate it. He’s filling out that pouch in the front so fucking well, it’s making Tommy’s mouth water.

“So, uh. Good?” Christ, he sounds breathless and Tommy hasn’t even touched him yet.

It takes all of Tommy’s willpower to drag his gaze up to Evan’s face, but it’s worth the effort. His cheeks are flushed a happy pink, creased by a grin he’s failing to restrain even with his bottom lip trapped by his teeth. The blue in his eyes is a nearly-invisible ring around his dilated pupils, and shadowed by his heavy-lidded expression.

“Evan,” he says, a little hoarse. It’s all he can say without laughing hysterically at the sheer understatement of good. Without telling Evan, in detail, exactly how badly he needs to suck him off through that fabric. How vividly he’s imagining what it would feel like against his own cock, wondering if he could cum just from rutting against Evan’s lace-clad ass while he squirms and begs to be fucked properly.

And more importantly, it’s all he needs to say.

The rest he can just show him.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 show #a raven's writing desk #after they're done fuckin tommy turns to buck and all serious-like goes #''dyou think taylor would prefer flowers or a fruit basket''#and buck has to convince him not to send a thank you card

386 notes · View notes

fieldsofwriting · 5 months

Text

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 6

Azriel x Archeron!sister Reader

Summary: Lunch with Tamlin goes about expected. And Azriel is a jealous man. Warnings: None!

Ageless and Minors DNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Masterlist

Requests are open! a/n: I forgot to link the dress and stuff for part five- and maybe it's cringe to do that. But I am cringe, and I am free... and very bad at describing clothing. So here's the dress, and makeup

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After Tamlin, the ball was a blur. Truly, so much wine and dancing had your head spinning in a way that you had never experienced before. It left you feeling light as a feather, as giggly as a school girl. Much to the Inner Circle's delight because you found them hilarious. Cassian was making jokes left and right, making you laugh so hard you had to hold onto Azriel for stability. In your drunken state, you missed the way his gaze softened as he looked at you. Watching you with your sisters, which the only one who remained sober by the end of the night was Nesta. But Cassian drank in her stead. Leaving you Feyre, and him up to no good. However, Azriel hadn't let you leave his side since Tamlin had asked you to lunch. Even when you tried to lose him, his shadows were far more protective of you than he was. It was sweet to see the way the tendrils wrapped themselves around your waist and pulled you back into his side. You would look up at him with a pout. "Azriel!" You'd whine. "Tell them to let me go!"

He took a sip of his drink, trying to hide his smirk. "Sorry, princess. They have a mind of their own." He was even more satisfied when you looked at the shadows surrounding the two of you.

"You big meanies. I'm not gonna pet you if you keep acting up!" You drunkenly scolded. Azriel quirked an eyebrow when the shadows slithered away from your finger. Chuckling lowly, he wrapped his arm around your waist. And the Illyrian took pride in the way Tamlin's gaze hardened as he watched the two of you, He debated a gentle gasp as you reached one of your delicate hands reached up and touched his face. Pulling the shadowsingers gaze down. Watching you talk about something you just saw, learning that you were more observant than you let on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

But now, he found himself arguing with a brick wall it seemed. “Y/n, I understand you have pure intentions but you can not sleep in my room.” He tried to explain softly, gently. His hands on your shoulders. Willing every part of him to behave because there was nothing he’d love more than to have you in his bed. Even just holding you for the night would make his heart soar. To be the last thing you saw, and the first thing.

“No!” You huff, arms crossed as you looked up at him. Rosey cheeks, your hair mused from dancing, your pout undeniably adorable. “I wanna sleep in here. Because you are nice, and you are warm! Mor snores!” You throw your hands up, loosing your balance as you flop onto the bed. “See the bed wants me here.”

Azriel laughs softly. Shaking his head, he knew he loved you. He really did. And normally he’d be flattered his mate was so sweet. But now, now it was an issue. Because he had to defy all of his primal tendencies to oblige your every wish. He scoops you up gently. Your head falling to his chest, lightly your fingers caress the tattoos of his that peak out. Azriel suppresses a shiver. “Come on princess. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispers, crossing the hallway. Earning snickers from the rest of his family. All of which he glared at, only stopping when he reached your room.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The morning was spent nursing your hang over. Feyre, you and Cassian curled up on the couch being babied by everyone. Well- Rhys, Azriel and Nesta. Azriel had even gone as far as giving you some of the headache powder he got from Elian. You could have kissed him.

But now, you were back in your bedroom getting ready for lunch with Tamlin. Nesta brushing your hair, and she was much less gentle than Feyre. She didn’t care about delicately brushing out the snarls, she would just shush you when you protested. But eventually your hair had been braided into one large braid down your back. Mor placed flowers in the braid as Nesta worked on your makeup again. Dolling you up, despite your protests. “Stop wriggling, Y/n.” Nesta chides as she grabs your chin to force you to look at her. You huff, “I don’t want to look good for Tamlin!” You protest again. Trying to move away before Nesta forces you back. Her blue/grey eyes looking at you with an intensity that would have made anyone else wither.

“You have too. Looking like a goddess while you chip away at his frail little ego will just make It hurt worse. And that’s what you want. You want him to know that he can’t have you. But this is what he’s missing.” She explains, barely giving you time to recover as she brushes on a light pink eyeshadow, adding a golden shimmer on top of it.

In the end, you wore a simple pink gown. Something that was sweet, innocent. Like the princesses in the fairytales you read with Azriel. Your shoulders laid bare, the sleeves were short- frilly. The sweetheart neckline doing little to hide your frame. The front corset, designed with small intricate roses on it. You spun, the dress poofing upwards. You hated to admit it. But you would be happy to break Tamlin’s heart in it. In this dress you looked as if you belonged in the Spring Court. So to deny his offer? It be poetic. Nesta wore a simple gown with you as well, her’s a more diluted green. She’d looked out of place next to the vibrant colors of the spring court. But you and your sister descended the stairs, everyone waiting for you once again. You smiling softly at all of them. Azriel’s eyes never left yours. You could have killed him, and he would have thanked you. Truthfully. You looked like a day dream walking down the stairs. Smiling at them like you weren’t about to walk into the lions den. He would have followed you blindly anywhere. Gladly. With pleasure.

“Are you ready?” Rhys looks at you with a strained smile. You give a little nod.

“As ready as I can. I can deny him again right?” You anxiously ask Rhys, you knew he wanted an alliance with Tamlin. And your brother in law might be a snake sometimes, but you were almost positive he wouldn’t force you on dates. Rhys shakes his head, “No. You won’t have to see him again after this. Unless you want to. And if words fail you again, that’s why you have Nesta.” He gives a nod to your older sister. Nesta takes your hand and gives a little squeeze.

Smiling appreciatively up at her, you felt ready to have this lunch. Tamlin wouldn’t get to you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You look beautiful, Y/n.” Tamlin bows, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. You have to stop yourself from recoiling at his touch, but the cooling feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles again helps calm you. Keep you grounded, quickly flicking your eyes up to where Azriel told you he’d be- tucked away in the shadows of the garden. You smiled. The shadows gave you a gentle squeeze back. Azriel, already wanted to kill Tamlin. But seeing the way he made you recoil? It made his blood boil. The only saving grace for Tamlin touching his mate was the fact Azriel knew you wouldn’t be going home with him.

“Thank you.” You murmur as he leads you to sit. A small intimate lunch. Just his seat, yours and Nesta’s. You had to force another smile at him as you sat. “Your Court is lovely.” You speak gracefully. “I hadn’t expected it to be so lush when we arrived.” Tamlin smiled and nodded.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He allowed the servants to come up and give you a plate of food. Small salads and sandwiches. All things that were light. “I suppose I have your sister to thank for that. After ruining my Court…and letting it go to ruin. I looked at it only to realize that I was still running it the way my father had. And I didn’t need to. So, I took control back and let myself rebuild.” He explains to you, and you can see the sparkle in his eye as he does. He was truly happy, and he meant the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m glad.” You offer, “I didn’t agree with her actions…but sometimes there is necessary evils that must take place for peace to prosper.” You give Tamlin your own gentle smile.

And conversation continues from there. Nothing out of place, or out of pocket. Tamlin even spoke to Nesta a few times, though Nesta just responded with pointed looks.

Azriel approved.

But all said and done, Tamlin was a gentleman. You could see how Feyre fell from him, how you could have fallen for him. But every time that thought crossed your mind, the shadows that curled around your ankle tightened. And at one point when you leaned down to try and brush them away- getting lost in your day dream of what life would be like here. They appeared as shackles. Reminding you what Tamlin had done to your sister. You didn’t finish your food.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at the way you pushed away the plate. He noted that you’d have to eat more before you out to the ball tonight.

“You had quite a bit of fun at the ball last night, no?” Tamlin asked, looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. Your cheeks heated, looking away from him as you nodded. A small chuckle from him pulled your gaze back. “No worries, that is what the night was for. I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself. You got home alright?”

Nesta scoffs. “If you’re implying that we’d let her wonder your courts drunker than a skunk you’d be wrong.” You lightly kick her shin. “She went home with us, slept alone in her own bed. You needn’t worry about her maidenhood or anything of the sorts.” You felt your face heat again at her words as you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. You felt exposed, embarrassed…you didn’t want to be here anymore. The feeling unknowingly being pushed down the bond. Azriel gritted his teeth, but kept quiet. Trying to push a sense of calm down the bond to you.

The cooling sensation of shadow washed up and down your leg. Gently trying to coax your fears down. You could have cried in relief to feel something so normal. But that relief was quickly taken as Tamlin stiffed. “I simply wanted to ensure she was safe. I implied nothing about her maidenhood. Nor do I care if it was intact or not. Feyre’s wasn’t.”

You felt a surge of anger from deep within. “That is my sister.” You say sharply. Glaring at Tamlin. “And my High Lady. Be careful how you speak of her.”

Tamlin’s eyes bore into yours as his nose wrinkles in disgust. “Tell me y/n. Would you require me to crown you High Lady?”

You felt the shadows grow still at his question. Azriel held his breath, if you had said yes? Did that mean you wanted to be a high lady? Something he couldn’t give you? Nesta’s eyes watching you intently. “I would require nothing of you.” You say simply, nodding your head to him. “Because I will not be with you- nor should a partner require another partner to value them. You shouldn’t have to ask for those things. If I truly mattered to you- and you say you have changed. Then making me a High Lady would be no different than seeing me as your equal.” You look to Nesta. “I wish to leave.”

Nesta’s mouth curls up into a smile. She stands and looks at Tamlin. “Thank you for your kindness.” Before offering you a hand, and you quickly take it. Not looking back at Tamlin. Azriel had never more proud.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As soon as you were out of ear shot from Tamlin, Azriel appeared. Taking you in his arms and holding you tightly. The shadows wrapping around you two, and from your place- buried in his neck you felt his wings wrap around you too. ”You did such a good job…” He whispers into your hair. He reveled in the way your shoulders unclenched and held onto him tighter. Your whole body practically falling into his, soaking up his warmth and comfort.

”I wanna go back to the cottage.” You whisper. Before you know it, your feet are off the ground. Moving through shadows as you winnow back.

Azriel doesn’t let you go. Bringing you back up to his room, in his defense. Nesta motioned her head to do so, so he figured she’d go fill in Rhys. Opening his door, he gently laid you on the bed. Going to back up and let you rest- but you reached out to him. “Don’t go…not yet.” You whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes. And he is a weak man. Especially after seeing you with another male today. He had no choice but to crawl into bed with you, tucking you under his arm as he runs his thumb over your temple. “Thank you…” Your voice is soft, your eyes closed as you relax further into him. Azriel prays to the Mother that you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He says quietly. Using the shadows to pull a blanket up and around you too. “I didn’t do anything.”

You shake your head, sitting up a little to look at him. “The shadows. They gave me strength. Reminded me that I wasn’t going to be free with Tamlin when my mind wondered. Your shadows gave me the strength to speak my mind. So thank you.”

Azriel smiles at you, cupping your cheek as he looks at you with a sincerity in his eyes. “My shadows didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have. You are strong Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now, I can feel it in my old bones. You need a nap.” He pulls you down into him. Laughing quietly at his actions you settle in for a nap. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: The next part will have another part at the ball!! I wasn't sure if I should have added it to this part or not...but let me know what you guys think! If you wanna be added to the taglist- click here! taglist: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @oucereeng @bunnyredgirl @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61 @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @thewulf @st4r-girl-official @nightsbite @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @naturakaashi

#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #nesta archeron #tamlin

452 notes · View notes

animestsstuff2 · 2 months

Text

Yuji itadtori’s hoodie

Yuji Itadori x reader

Content warning: fluff! Aged up characters! Kissing

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You didn’t initially know what to make of Yuji when he first joined the Academy. You also didn’t know how badly you’d crush on him either in the following weeks. His bubbly personality surprised you, after all you only had Megumi as a friend there for a while.

You tried to hide your crush on Yuji as best you could but it was hard to avoid a man who was basically a lap dog and wanted to be around someone. Nobara noticed your crush first and it took days of begging for her not to spill and tell him. She constantly teased you for how you reacted. How you stuttered when Yuji spoke to you specifically or went red in the face anytime he was too close or helped you with anything.

it was especially obvious you were crushing on him when he gave you his hoodie on a rainy day. It was super sunny when you, Nobara, Megumi and Yuji headed for some ice cream but a sudden storm soaked you all. Yuji offered you his hoodie, feeling bad since Nobara having checked the weather brought an umbrella and Megumi didn’t really care.

The day you tried to return it was awful. You paced outside his door thinking of how to begin your sentence, is it too late? Is he asleep? Should you just hand him it and leave? No, maybe say thank you and then lea-

“Hey Y/N? You okay?” Yuji’s voice cane from beside you, startling you. You quickly spun to see him standing in his doorway. Your cheeks burned and you nodded.

“U-um, yeah. No- im fine, thanks for asking but i-I have your hoodie here” you mentally groaned at you ridiculous stuttering. It only ever happened when you were alone with Yuji.

“Hmm? Oh yeah. Its okay. You keep it” he said lightly. Your eyes quickly flickered up to his, brows raised in surprise but quickly averted your gaze from his cute smile.

“b-but it’s your hoodie!” You stated, pushing his freshly washed hoodie forward. Your head down as you kept your eyes on the yellow cloth, anxious to look up incase he sees your red face.

“Nah its okay. It looks better on you anyways” He told you, his hands coming to grab yours and push the hoodie back into your chest gently. You suppressed a weird noise that was threatening to escape your lips and just nodded.

You wore that jumper almost all the time in your dorm room after that. You never wore it out incase Yuji seen and thought you were weird. You believed he knew about your crush and didn’t feel the same way so just stayed nice to you to spare your feelings.

You were up late reading about different curses, techniques and old jujutsu sorcerers in the library. The small lamp being the only source of light. Your nose deep into the book of Jujustu Sorcerers through the Ages. You were so in your own mind you didn’t notice the person behind you, not until they spoke.

“Y/N? What are- Woah! Are you okay!” You fell from your chair, well almost. Yuji was quicker and swooped under your arms and helped you onto your feet. You turned round, pink cheeked and nervous.

“Sorry- heh. I thought you noticed me” Yuji laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes gave you a once over. “Oh. Is that my hoodie? I honestly thought you threw it out”

Your eyes widened at his statement and you quickly shook your head.

“N-No! Um, sorry. I’m just wearing it cause Nobara has one of m-mine and then, also- yeah. Yours was the only one i had and its pretty cold in the library” your words fell over your tongue awkwardly.

“Yeah? Well i’m glad you didn’t throw it out. It looks nice on you” Yuji’s compliment made your cheeks burned hotter and you averted your eyes from his.

He doesn’t mean it. He’s just being nice

“How come you’re up so late anyways?” He asked, peering round your shoulder.

“Oh. Im just reading up on, um” you paused, forgetting the book you were just reading. “Oh! Yeah, um- its about past Jujustu sorcerers”

“Yeah? I wish I had your motivation to study. I couldn’t sleep so I came looking to see if anyone else was awake” He grinned. You just nodded, fingers curling into your palm. It was very rare you and Yuji were ever alone together and every other time you immediately conjured an excuse to leave.

You didn’t need to further embarrass yourself in front of him. You glanced back up at him again opening your mouth to lie and say you should probably sleep but he beat you to it.

“Wanna come to my dorm and watch a movie? A new horror movie came out and Megumi won’t watch it with me” he whined. Your mind froze and heart skipped at his question.

Alone with Yuji. In his room?”

“Um- oh. Ye-yeah sure” You stuttered. Your stomach twisted with both excitement and nerves. You swallowed dryly as you followed Yuji growing more nervous and slightly warm. Over both the fact you’d be alone in his room and that you were actually terrified of horror movies.

It’ll be fine..You can watch a horror movie and be alone with Yuji. You are just friends..right?

“Here. Yeah- um. You can sit here” He grabbed a pile of clothes from his bed and lumped them onto his desk chair. A classic move you’ve done many times.

You sat on the edge of the bed, skin warm and covered in goosebumps as he grabbed the T’V remote and climbed up beside you. You stayed close to the edge, so much so you were balancing on it.

He flicked the movie on and your eyes widened at the title. The screams within the trees. You swallowed thickly. You had heard of this movie, accidentally seen snippets of trailers for it and it did look fucking horrifying. You hated paranormal horrors the most.

“Im so glad you’re watching this with me. I’ve been waiting ages to see it” Yuji said eagerly and you just glanced at the smiling boy, nodding your head slowly.

The movie began and you tensed up watching the screen. You were thrown right in, watching a girl run through dark woods. Her hair tangled, clothes turn from the twisted branches beside her. Dirt kicked up from her heavy steps as she ran and ran.

Your breathing picked up as the movie dragged on, keeping your eyes open so you didn’t look like a wuss to Yuji. Your fingers curling into your palm as you watched an especially terrifying scene of the creature lurking between shrouded bushes and trees. The flashlight showing snippets of what a unnatural beast it was.

You screamed, quickly slapping a hand over your mouth and closing your eyes at the next scene, immediately embarrassed and terrified at what just occurred. You slowly opened your eyes and turned to Yuji whose eyes were wide as he stared at you.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Was it too scary?” He asked and you could feel your eyes getting glossy as the embarrassment you felt swallowed your heart.

“N-No, um- it, yeah- it just surprised me a bit is all” you forced out, voice barely a whisper as your eyes glanced around the dark corners of his room, terrified of seeing it. Yuji paused the film and turned to you fully.

“We don’t have to finish it. Do you not like horror films? Man I feel bad now for making you watch it” he laughed a bit trying to lighten the mood and make you feel better. Your shoulders were still squared, heart still beating fast in your chest.

“N-No. its alright, you didn’t know. I was worried you’d think I was a wuss, since, you know. We fight curses all the time” You explained, bringing your hands to play with the hem of his hoodie. You could actually handle curses fine but for some reason horror movies evoked your flight response.

“Man I am really sorry Y/N. Do you wanna stay here?” Your eyes snapped up to Yuji’s whose suddenly went wide as he raised his hands defensively “u-uh! I mean just because you’re scared and you mighten wanna sleep alone. I-I don’t mean anything by it”

Stay..with Yuji..in his room and in his..bed! Your thoughts were haywire as you stilled

His cheeks matched his hair as he spurted the words out. Your cheeks burning too at his question. You don’t think you could go back to your dorm let alone sleep in it, was bad enough the old dorms creaked and groaned at night. You’d be up all night worried about that creature.

“I-if you, um, don’t mind. Sorry. You can say no. I don’t have to stay and everything” You mumbled out, fingers furiously picking at the hem.

“No its okay. I made you watch it. I don’t want you up all night scared” He flicked the T.V onto some show you’ve seen him watch a few times. Your heart against your chest was for a different reason now.

You were staying in Yujis room with him! It’s not like this hasn’t happened before but previously Megumi and Nobara had passed out along with you after a movie marathon.

Yuji shifted about and pulled the sheets back. You carefully got under with him staying at your respectful side. You were still so tense, so nervous and a little excited.

“Do you want the T.V left on Y/N?” He asked, his voice low as a yawn slipped past his lips. You shook your head avoiding a verbal answer, not trusting your own voice.

He switched the T’V off and you were both left in darkness. You rolled onto your side facing towards Yuji as you closed your eyes trying to forget where you were but your adrenaline filled brain fizzled. The scenes of the paranormal beast along with thoughts of Yuji flooded almost simultaneously.

A hand down on your side slipping round to your back and pulled you forward into the darkness, eyes snapped open. You found your breath mingling with Yuji’s as you just made out the boys brown eyes.

“Sorry, you were shaking. I-Are you still scared?” He asked. A lump caught in your throat and all you could do was shake your head again. Your mind too focused on his hand. The hand on your back, splayed out, warm and almost burning through hoodie.

“I’m sorry for suggesting it. I’ll stay awake till you fall asleep if it makes it less scary” he mumbled and you just squeezed your eyes shut trying to calm your nerves as your heart flooded your ears.

This was crazy. You couldn’t sleep. No, you weren’t even tired too hopped up on your fizzling nerves, bubbling excitement and a tinge of fear to settle and even think about sleep. You opened your eyes again to find Yuji’s staring back at you.

“I’m-“ You swallowed dryly. “I’m not tired, are you?”

“Nah not even a bit” You could feel his thumb swipe up and down on your back. The comfort it provided was swallowed whole by the nerves it evoked. It suddenly paused

“Ah, wait- It’s me isn’t it? I’ll stop, sorry-man, hah” He pulled his hand from you and you were cold. The place it lay now open to the slight breeze in his room..

“N-No..its-um” your voice grew quieter as continued “it’s nice n’ relaxing”

Yuji said nothing. He just blinked at you before slipping his hand back around your back, resting it where it was. Your breaths mingled as yours picked up, chest tight and stomach fluttering. His fingers curled into your back and shuffled you ever so closer. Your hands came to grab at his own shirt splayed out in front of you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you now could almost feel his lips brush yours, eyes still locked in an unnerving gaze. Your words died on your tongue.

Should you kiss him? No- hes just comforting you. Hes just being nice. He doesn’t like you like that and ev-

“Can I kiss you?” You almost sputtered in his face at his question. His voice broke the flurry of thoughts in your head. Eyes now wide as you nodded ever so slightly, did he see? Or feel you nod. You couldn’t speak to say yes, to convey how much you’ve wanted to kiss him.

His lips were pressed to yours almost immediately. Your fingers now curled tightly into his shirt, nails digging through the thin material as he pulled you closer and tilted his head. The soft kiss becoming rougher as tongues pushed together. A quiet moan slipped from your throat and was immediately accompanied by a groan from Yuji as he pulled away.

Both of you now breathless, soft quiet pants filling the silence in his room.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages” He mumbled, bringing his hand up from your back and carding it through his hair before placing it back down on your waist.

You couldn’t find words to form a response instead shifting forward and pressing a soft peck to his lips. A smile breaking out between you both as he wiggled his other arm under your neck and curled then around you pulling you against his chest.

You fell asleep peacefully not thinking of any horrible creatures, content with where you were as Yuji snored lightly above you.

…

“Hey Y/N? Is that another one of Yuji’s hoodies?” Nobara asked as her and Megumi walked up to you and Yuji in the courtyard. Your face flushed pink and you glanced up at Yuji who only shrugged.

“It is! What happened! Tell me!” She grinned rather creepily, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you.

Yuji laughed at your huffy expression as Nobara dragged you off to fill her in on whatever she believed was going on. Megumi on the other hand bumped Yuji’s shoulder with his own.

“So..I take it theres something going on?” He hummed quietly, watching the two girls ahead of him.

“Hmm? I don’t know what you mean. She’s just wearing my hoodie” Yuji hummed innocently. A grin on his face.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #yuji x reader #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk yuuji #jjk x you

283 notes · View notes

daisiesinvienna · 1 month

Note

daryl being the most protective w fem!reader. maybe reader doubting daryl’s feelings for her & him saying “why wouldn’t i save you?”. reader shaking and daryl putting his hand on the side of her face brushing her cheek with his thumb 🥺

Nexilis

Title: Nexilis

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: You are a wildflower blooming in the midst of death and destruction, a breath of fresh air. Daryl doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you.

Warnings: Swearing

Era: Prison

Authors Note: Nexilis is the latin word for woven together or intertwined. This was meant to be a shorter blurb but dude I could not stop writing. Thank you for the request! <3

Daryl Dixon never liked having his emotions on display for everyone to see.

During his childhood, he learned that expressing emotions led to vulnerability, and vulnerability led to weakness. So, when he was young, he learned how to bottle up his emotions, learned to keep them suppressed so nobody around him knew what he was feeling. As he grew older, It became his second nature.

When Daryl first met you back in Atlanta, he knew instantly that it would be a struggle to keep up his cold demeanor. He knew he would have to try to keep up the walls he worked so hard to build. Because you were like a breath of fresh air.

You were the air that filled his lungs, the oxygen he needed to survive. And that terrified him.

The only problem he had with you was that everywhere you went, emotions followed. Not bad emotions, but emotions like joy and hopefulness. Feelings Daryl wasn’t used to. So he tried to keep his distance.

But you, being the beam of sunlight you were, noticed his seemingly sullen personality and made a point of talking to him regularly. He made an attempt at resisting your charm, but it didn’t take long for his carefully built walls to come crashing down. He soon came to realize that a single beam of sunlight could cast away the darkest of shadows.

During your time spent together before and at the prison, you and Daryl grew closer. He often sought you out to ask if you wanted to go on a run with him, and you took pride in knowing you were the only person he’d outright ask to join him. You often asked him questions about himself and whatever other things crossed your mind, seeming genuinely interested in the things he had to say. Daryl wasn’t used to being listened too, to being considered. People would make jokes, feign surprise when one of you was spotted without the other. It was known, the deep bond the two of you had, but it wasn’t pointed out. It was just a fact.

At some point in your relationship, you crossed the imaginary line drawn between friends and something more. Somehow, despite all the horrors that happened everyday in the world, something beautiful emerged. Daryl had no choice but to let you into his heart.

He’d tried to resist it, but eventually had to just face it. He loved you.

And that scared the shit out of him.

While you showed your love through words and touch, Daryl showed his by keeping you safe. It was the only way he knew how. In a world as unpredictable as this one, he knew that you could be ripped from him in an instant. But he would be damned if he let that happen.

He kept one eye on you all the time, making sure you were eating and staying hydrated. If there was ever an uncertain situation, he was at your side, resting a calloused yet gentle hand on your waist as if you were going to slip away from him. During encounters with other people, people you didn’t know, he was gently moving you behind him. Silently letting you know that he’d guard every hair on your head, that he would do anything to keep you safe.

You always felt safe around Daryl. You always knew that whatever the situation, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. And for that you were eternally grateful.

But eventually you begun to notice how he was never the first to lean in for a kiss, never was the first to initiate contact. You were always the first. You’d told him you loved him multiple times, normally as a goodbye when he leaves for a run or when you go to help Rick with the garden. But you’d never once heard it back. Which you didn’t have a problem with at first. You knew he’d had a difficult childhood, though he didn’t like to talk about it.

But as the months passed, you started to question his feelings for you. You started to wonder if he felt for you the way you felt for him, if he didn’t show you affection or tell you he loved you just because he didn’t want to.

One cloudy and slightly damp fall morning, while you were out tending to the garden out in the former prison yard, you spotted Daryl heading towards the gate with his crossbow slung over his back, clearly about to head out on a run. Dusting your hands off on your jeans, you make your way across the prison yard to meet him by the gate.

“Morning!” You say, flashing him a smile. You see he hadn’t retrieved his motorcycle from where it sat near the prison tower, so he was planning on heading out by foot. Probably going hunting.

“Mornin’,” He answers stoically. He doesn’t exactly return your smile, but the corners of his mouth turn up a bit.

“You going on a run?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs in response, going to fiddle with the chain keeping the gate secure.

“Mind if I join?” You ask tentatively, and he looks at you for a moment before responding.

“Alrigh’,” He says gruffly, and you grin. He successfully opens the gate, tossing the chain aside. “You got your gun?”

You in fact did have your pistol on your hip, and with that, you followed Daryl through the gate and away from the prison. He was just planning on hunting around the nearby woods, hoping a few squirrels or even a deer would cross his path. He knew that everyone at the prison would be grateful for something other than canned vegetables.

Neither of you talked much as you walked through the woods, the only sounds being the leaves crunching under your feet and occasional bird calls. Other than that, a good portion of your walk was spent in dead silence.

Daryl walked a bit ahead of you, glancing back periodically as if he was making sure you were still there. He moved effortlessly and silently through the woods, while you tried your best not to step on every twig you came across and stumbled once or twice.

As you trudge through the woods, you feel your thoughts drifting back to your doubts about your relationship with the broad man walking ahead of you. You didn’t miss how he’d avoided your gaze back at the prison gate, and it had only encouraged your feelings of uncertainty. Now, as you step over a fallen tree, you wonder why he rarely shows you any affection.

Maybe it was something you’d done. Maybe you’d said something, done something at some point that had made him grow so distant. But as you rack your brain for an instance such as this, you come up with nothing. Or, maybe, he just didn’t care for you as much as you thought. Maybe he kept you around because he felt bad for you.

You stare at the back of his head, knowing that you should talk to him about it. If you had done something to him, you’d want to know. If he didn’t love you, you would want to know even more. Better to know so you could move on and stop burdening him with feelings he didn’t reciprocate. But you didn’t know how to start such a conversation. So you hear yourself blurt out probably the worst conversation starter of the decade.

“Do you love me?”

He stops walking. You stop a few feet behind him, and he slowly turns to face you. You’re fully prepared for that signature Daryl scowl, but instead he looks shocked. His eyebrows knit together in concern.

“What the hell ‘re you talkin’ about?” He asks, and you stare down at the ground, embarrassed you’d asked such a blunt question.

“I mean- you’re just always so… distant,” You respond quietly, and he sighs. There is a moment of silence, broken only by the trees rustling in the breeze.

“I know,” He murmurs after a second, and you look up to meet his eyes. “I know, ‘n i’m sorry.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment.

“It’s just-“ He starts, then trails off. You stare at him, waiting. He appears to be having some kind of conflict within himself.

“I’ve never felt like this for anyone before, and it scares the shit outta me,” He says finally, and you meet his eyes, dumbfounded. You can tell that that was difficult for him to say.

“That’s it?” You ask, quietly. He moves closer to you, and to your surprise, cups your cheek in his large, calloused hand and looks into your eyes before speaking again.

“‘M not used to this. Any of it,” He murmurs, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. You lift your hand to rest on his, staring into his blue eyes. “And I know ‘m not good at findin’ ways to tell ya I love ya. But I do, and I need ya to know that. I love ya more than anythin’.”

You nod, feeling relief wash over you at the sound of those three words leaving his mouth. A smile creeps onto your face. He moves his hand from your cheek, using it to tilt your chin up slightly. He takes a moment to rake his eyes across your face, hesitating, before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

He kisses you slowly, deeply, trying to convey the feelings he couldn’t come to terms with to you. You reciprocate, feeling yourself smile into the kiss.

And, as Daryl continues to kiss you amongst the trees, he swears to himself that he is going to make sure you don’t have to ask him that question ever again.

#daryl dixon #daryl twd #the walking dead #twd #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #twd fanfiction

187 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 1 month

Note

Logan idea- reader has very similar traumas I.e trained as a weapon, memories wiped, has bad nightmares, slower aging, modified healing.

They find healing with the X-men and get close with Logan because of their similarities the reader is more sunshine to Logan’s I don’t know if pessimism is the right word. They go on a mission, goes missing for a period, and when they show back up they’ve been brain washed and are fighting the X-men but Logan recognizes them instantly. And does the whole this isn’t you sweetheart while taking a beating cause they can both kick ass and that’s one of the things Logan loves about them. He gets the mask off of them cause he realizes that’s part of the issue for them not recognizing everyone and then it’s hurt/comfort them feeling horrible for getting caught and Logan feeling horrible for letting them get caught. And even though they hadn’t been together before just very close friends/testing the waters this brings them together cause they realize they want to be with each other after some healing and Logan be soft with the reader while they heal from the brainwashing fiasco.

I dunno I love the idea of Logan feeling horrible about not being able to rescue the reader and then recognizing them fighting his allies and helps bring them back from the void. I’m a sucker for two people relating to eachother having a friendship that a hard time brings out their true feelings with lots of fluff and healing cause Logan understands that.

this made me think of some of my favourite wolverine scenes from different media so it's all inspired by that i guess. hope you like it :3

warnings: angst. mind control. reader presumed dead. swearing. violence. hospital-setting. guilt.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

‘What the hell are you doing? We have to go back!’ Logan started yelling as soon as he realised you hadn’t made it back to the jet.

‘It’s too late,’ Scott shouted back at him from the pilot seat. ‘We won’t make it.’

‘She won’t make it,’ Logan retorted, already lunging at the cockpit, claws itching to come out. And they would have if it wasn’t for the cold hand touching his skin. He looked up to meet Rogue’s eyes. They were filled with sadness–pity– as she held his hand. He tried to pull out of her hold, but the longer it went on, the more frail he felt. Everything around him began to spin, his vision blurred until it all turned black, and his head hit the steel flooring of the plane.

⮿

Rogue had held on for too long. That much she had realised as soon as Logan had passed out.

It took a whole day for him to come by, but not even her powerful narcosis had suppressed his rage. As soon as Logan had woken up and his senses had felt Scott’s presence, he was on his feet, grabbing the team leader by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against

‘You proud of yourself, punk?’ he spat in Scott’s face. ‘Got your sorry ass out all safe and sound, huh?’

‘There was no other way. We would have all died if we had stayed, Logan,’ Storm clawed at his shoulders to pull him back, but none of her methods sufficed. ‘This was the only way.’

‘No the fuck, it wasn’t!’ He saw red with anger. ‘We could have saved her.’ He had pulled out of saying that one word at the last minute. I could have saved her. That was the only thing on his mind for weeks. How you still would have been there if it wasn’t for him.

The plan had been simple; that much had been clear in your face as you suggested it the last time he saw you. But he never should have gone along with it. He never should have let you go on your own. If he had just stayed— ran after you— maybe…

A pitiful portion of him still kept up hope. That one day, the heavy doors to the mansion would open, and you would stand in the middle. Perhaps a bit bruised up and tired, but all there. And he would pull you into his arms like he had wanted to all those times before.

But you never did show up. Days turned into weeks turned into months, and there had been no news, no sightings. Even the Professor had stopped seeking Cerebro’s help as nothing turned up anyway, no matter how hard he looked.

⮿

His heart was in his chest as he raced through the dark corridors of the bunker complex. Logan looked around him for the way out with the least henchmen as chances of there being none were slim. He had already left a trail of bodies behind him and was ready for the next wave of men to beat into a pulp.

He turned the corner, but what he saw was the last thing he had expected.

For a second, he thought he was dreaming; perhaps it was a hallucination brought on by some chemicals they pumped into the air to get to him. It wasn’t possible. His mouth had already fallen open, ready to call out your name, but as you got into a stance of attack, eyes blank except for a fury deep inside them, Logan realised it wasn’t a dream at all. It was a bloody terror.

It was the hardest fight he had ever been in, trying to block all of your attacks while pulling himself back. He couldn’t het himself to hurt you. All he found himself doing was calling your name, but it was useless. It was you, but it wasn’t. Nothing he said seemed to matter, seemed to take any effect on you. You lunged at him, punching and kicking.

It was futile to try and argue with you, and so, against every muscle and nerve in his body screaming against it, Logan started to place his movements harder, fighting against you until you went limp in his arms. He cursed himself out as he looked down at your unconscious body, pushing some of your loose hair out of your face. But as he looked at you, he also saw that it really was you still in there. And so he didn’t waste a second thinking about it as he picked you up in his arms and ran as fast as his body could take him. Out of the tortuous underground maze and back to that godforsaken jet that had been the scene of the dreams that had plagued his mind for the past months.

⮿

Everyone had practically stopped in their tracks at the sight of you in Logan’s arms. He stumbled into the jet, nearly falling over, having had, as predicted, to deal with a number more nameless jackasses, but with you in his arms, it made beating them up a bit more challenging.

‘What—’ Storm’s eyes were nearly as pale of shock as they would have been of her powers.

‘She’s been brainwashed,’ Logan explained before anything else, ‘or controlled. I don’t know, but he’s hostile. We need to keep her down.’ He laid you down on the ground, sitting right beside you, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a deep heave, and only then he noticed the looks of everyone around him. ‘What?’

No one said a thing, but he knew what they were all thinking. For he was thinking it, too. Was it safe to bring you back home? Could whatever they had done to you be reversed, or was he just putting everyone at the school in danger by taking you back?

‘Is everyone back?’ He just said after no one had dared to say another word.

⮿

Logan didn’t know what had possessed him. Why he had suddenly grown so protective over you, but he could not stand the idea of you being alone in the hospital wing. It took nearly half a week just for Jean and the Professor to understand what had happened to you, and the treatment itself took far longer than Logan would have liked.

He didn’t know why he came to visit you every night, far outside the regular visiting hours, past when anyone would be awake to see him sneak in and sit by your side, holding your hand, hoping you could feel and hear him as the apologies spilt out of him.

‘I’m so sorry, bub.’ He kissed your knuckles. ‘I should have gone back for you. I should have–’ He stilled as you stirred in your bed.

‘Logan?’ You croaked out, throat dry and hoarse. In slight shock, Logan said nothing. You blinked and tried to find him in the darkness of the room. ‘Logan? Is that you?’

‘Yeah, it’s me.’ He chuckled softly to himself, squeezing your hand.

‘What happened?’ You tried to sit up, orientating yourself to where exactly it was that you were, but he quickly pushed at your shoulder to stay put.

‘It’s a long story, kid.’ Never before was Logan happy to be sitting in the dark as the tears he had subdued for months finally fell down his cheeks in extreme relief. ‘You uh– you’d been gone for a while.’

‘I was?’ you tried to remember, ‘I can’t recall anything. It’s all—’

‘I know.’ He kept your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. Logan knew to call for someone as soon as he saw you stir awake, but he needed this moment alone with you. Make sure you are doing alright himself. Besides, the professor was probably already on his way.

‘It’s okay. You’re alright now.’ He continued, happy you had finally come back home.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

229 notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 1 month

Note

can you make a blurb of chris with his gf that's been feeling very down and has an anxiety attack? (if ur comfy w that)

── ୨୧ !　 a blurb where you wake up feeling bad and on the verge of an anxiety attack, but chris is there for you - as he always is

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

The morning light filtered softly through the gap under the door, casting a gentle glow across the floor room. Y/N lay in bed, her eyes wide open as she stared at the ceiling. The soft hum of someone - provably Matt - moving gently upstairs did nothing to calm the unease that had settled deep in her chest.

There was no reason for it, no particular trigger she could pinpoint, yet the anxiety was there, creeping into her thoughts and wrapping around her heart like a vice. Her breathing was shallow, her heart racing with a sense of dread she couldn’t quite shake. Her eyes were tired and slightly red from the little to nothing hours of sleep.

Today was supposed to be a good day. She and Chris had planned it out earlier in the week; breakfast at their favorite little café, a stroll through the city streets, maybe a bit of shopping. It was a day they both looked forward to, a chance to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But as she lay there, tangled in the cotton sheets, the excitement that usually accompanied such plans was overshadowed by a heavy, unexplainable weight.

Chris stirred beside her, his arm draped over her waist, pulling her closer. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to ground herself. But it wasn’t enough. The anxiety continued to gnaw at her, relentless and unforgiving.

"I should get up." She whispered to herself, carefully slipping out from under Chris’s arm. She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He deserved to sleep in a little longer; he had been working so hard lately, filming a lot of different videos with his brothers and creating the new collection of Fresh Love. Maybe if she just kept moving, kept herself busy, she could push the anxiety away.

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would wake her up, snap her out of this spiral. But as she looked at herself in the mirror, all she saw was the fear and tension reflected back at her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the towel to dry her face, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps. It seemed like her lungs never got full enough.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, to calm the storm brewing inside her, but it was no use. The more she tried to suppress it, the more overwhelming it became. Still, she had a day planned with Chris. She couldn’t let this ruin it. She just needed to keep it together, at least until they were out and about, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of the city. Maybe then, the anxiety would fade into the background.

She took her time in the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her in the hopes that it would soothe her. But when she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body, her nerves were just as frayed as before.

She could hear Chris moving around in the bedroom now, probably getting dressed, and she knew she had to put on a brave face.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. As she stepped into the room, the cool air hit her wet skin, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Her hair dripped onto the white towel, and she kept her gaze low, not trusting herself to look at Chris just yet. She could feel the frown etched on her face, the way her chest kept moving too fast, and she prayed that he wouldn’t notice.

But Chris knew her too well. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of socks when he looked up and saw her, ready to say his first good morning in that day, but suddenly stopping. His brow furrowed immediately, concern flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her as she moved slowly to the closet, her movements stiff and uncoordinated.

"Baby?" He called softly, but she didn’t respond, too focused on trying to steady her breathing, to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay.

Y/N felt the weight of Chris’s gaze as he gently turned her to face him, his hands firm yet comforting on her shoulders. Her breath hitched, and she tried to muster a reassuring smile, but Chris wasn’t having any of it.

"What’s going on, babe?" His voice was soft, filled with worry. "Hey, you’re shaking."

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The trembling in her hands worsened as if her body was betraying her attempt to appear calm. Her breath began to quicken, each inhale growing more shallow than the last. She clenched the towel tighter around her, feeling the edges of panic creeping in.

"It’s nothing, Chris. I’m fine, really. Let’s just get ready and go." She forced out, her voice strained, refusing to look into his eyes.

But Chris’s eyes searched hers, seeing the truth behind her words. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped without her realizing.

"You’re not fine." He said gently, concern deepening in his gaze. "Talk to me."

Y/N tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only grew larger.

"I woke up feeling so anxious." She finally admitted, her voice trembling. "I don’t know why, but it’s like… it’s like there’s this weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe properly. My heart’s racing, and I can’t… I can’t make it stop."

As she spoke, the feelings she had been trying to suppress began to overwhelm her. Her chest tightened painfully, each breath now coming in rapid, uneven gasps. The room started to spin, her vision narrowing as her hands shook uncontrollably. Her legs felt like they might give out any second, the numbness creeping up from her feet, making her feel disconnected from her own body.

Chris’s eyes widened in alarm as he watched the familiar signs of an impending anxiety attack take hold of her. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hands moving to cradle her face, anchoring her in the present.

"Y/N, look at me." He said firmly, his voice steady but soothing. "Focus on my voice, yeah? Just focus on me."

Her eyes darted around, panic rising as the room seemed to close in on her.

"I-I can’t… I can’t breathe." She gasped, her chest burning with the effort, her hands closing into tight fists against her chest, the towel fabric brushing against her skin making her feel suffocating. It was all too much.

"Yes, you can." Chris insisted, his voice calm and reassuring. "You’re safe. I’m right here with you. Just try to match your breathing with mine, okay? In… and out. You know how to do it, yeah?"

He exaggerated his own breaths, taking slow, deep inhales and long exhales, hoping she would follow his lead. Y/N tried to mimic his breathing, but her body resisted, her lungs refusing to cooperate as her mind spiraled further into panic, shaking her head as if telling him that it wasn't working.

"It’s okay, petal." Chris continued, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. "I’ve got you. You’re not alone. Just keep trying, focus on the sound of my voice. You're my smart girl, I know you can do it."

His words were a lifeline in the chaos, something tangible to cling to as her world seemed to tilt on its axis. She fixed her eyes on his ocean blue ones, trying desperately to ground herself in his presence. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she began to force her breaths to deepen, following the rhythm he set.

In... out.

"That’s it." Chris murmured, his hands never leaving her face. "You’re doing great. Just keep going."

The numbness in her legs started to recede as her breathing began to slow, the tightness in her chest easing slightly. She focused on the warmth of Chris’s hands, the steadiness of his gaze, and the calm that radiated from him like a soothing balm.

After what felt like an eternity, her breathing finally evened out, the sharp edges of panic dulling into a manageable hum. The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief, not fear.

Chris pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as if to shield her from any lingering remnants of the attack.

"You’re okay." He whispered into her hair, his hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back. "You’re safe, Y/N. I’m here."

She clung to him, her face buried in his chest, drawing strength from his presence. The remnants of the anxiety attack left her feeling drained and shaky, but Chris’s embrace was a refuge, a place where she could let go of the fear and simply be.

"I’m sorry." She mumbled into his shirt, her voice thick with exhaustion and emotion.

Chris shook his head, pulling back just enough to look at her, his expression tender.

"Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." He said softly, brushing a few strands of hair away from her damp forehead. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

Y/N nodded, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You don’t have to worry about that." Chris replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer, the intensity of the situation gradually fading into the background as the warmth of their connection took its place. Chris kept his arms around her, his presence a solid and comforting weight that grounded her in the here and now.

When she finally felt steady enough to stand on her own, Chris gave her a reassuring smile.

"Why don’t we take it easy today?" He suggested. "We don’t have to go out if you’re not feeling up to it. We can stay in, watch movies, whatever you want."

Y/N considered his offer, the thought of staying in and cocooning herself in the safety of their home tempting. But she knew that sometimes it helped to get out, to distract herself with the world outside.

"No, I think I still want to go." She said, her voice stronger now, though still soft. "I think… I think it might help."

Chris nodded, his expression understanding.

"Okay. But if at any point you need to come back, just say the word. We’ll take it slow."

"I will." She promised, feeling a bit more like herself as she managed a small smile, grateful for his understanding. He always knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t know it herself. "Thank you." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Always." He replied, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead before stepping back to give her space. "I’ll be right here if you need me."

As Y/N watched him move back to the bed, resuming his task of getting dressed, she felt a sense of calm beginning to replace the anxiety. It wasn’t gone completely, but with Chris there, she knew she could handle it. She took another deep breath, this one more steady, and turned back to the closet to finish getting ready.

I know, I write too much and too long, sorry yall 🙏🏻🤞🏻

I would post as a usual fic, but I feel like yall like it more when it's blurbs 😭

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader fluff #chris sturniolo x reader angst #chris sturniolo angst #angst #fluff #anxiety #anxious reader #chris sturniolo x yn

148 notes · View notes

periwinkla · 4 months

Text

Maya Fey's character is written in such a charmingly, heart wrenchingly subtle way. She has to face all manners of tragedy, but she always has that smile on her face and presses on, feigning happiness and lightheartedness. It's honestly somewhat disturbing. How can someone smile so seemingly easily after such tragedy? Can you imagine going to your sister’s workplace, expecting to spend a quiet evening together, and instead... you see a slumped silhouette against the wall of the window? She spawns the most crazy things out of her mouth just to fill the silence sometimes. Why? Sure, it may be for the game's comic relief… but sometimes it appears a tad forced? Like it’s because she wants to build a relationship with Phoenix - like her sister asked her - and doesn't quite know how to. He’s the only person that can understand what she’s going through. She’s suffering. He’s suffering. So she needs to fill the silence somehow. And she drags him along most times, she is the one that decides they should take Power’s case, after all. After Edgeworth's trial she feels useless (even though she clearly was the reason Phoenix could save him... can you believe she just charged in against Von Karma? that's insane) and goes back home to resume her training so she can help Phoenix again. After Edgeworth's ‘death’, Phoenix didn't keep in touch. Although she didn’t know about Edgeworth, she knew that the whole year had been hard on them both in the first place... so she grew worried, and basically bargained with her client to go and get him and drag him to Kurain. Phoenix can get back into taking cases just because she's there to cheer him up. So she needs to be strong! Even though she's suffering tremendously as well. Mia isn't there anymore and now she also needs to take care of her cousin because apparently she can’t even have her aunt to rely on, because for some reason the universe decided to give her the most complicated family drama imaginable. When they face Franziska? She's awfully perceptive. She's only 18, and instead of being angry at Franziska's behavior, she wonders how she can be so strong? And she seems to admire her? Would a 18 year old accused of murder think that of the accuser? That's frankly baffling. It shows maturity far beyond her age, to think of the true feelings behind people’s behavior despite what it means for her situation. And then she gets kidnapped. And still, she feigns being fine… Then then Hazakura happens. All that and she's still thinking about other people! She tries to protect Godot, even though it's a moot point. She tries to be strong for Pearl - as Edgeworth points out - and she tries so hard to not make everything affect her. She takes everything in stride but also suppresses her feelings. And she's very very good at it, even. She seems fine. Franziska is baffled at her nonchalance, and somehow Edgeworth is the one who needs to explain it, perhaps because they had similar experiences and their tragedy is linked to the same root. Edgeworth tried to repress his feelings as well (although he is, by contrast, very very bad at hiding them) so he knows what he's talking about. I quite like that scene at the end of AA3 because that makes it deliberate on Takumi’'s part that he wanted to write her that way from the start. (it also adds to the development of 3 characters at once: Maya, Miles and Franziska) Her misfortunes don’t end here, either. SOJ happens. Kidnapped again, accused of murder again. People she trusted betray her and she finds it in her heart to forgive them? And now she also has a ton of responsibilities. And she needs to appear even stronger now in front of other people, because they depend on her. She’s still cheerful though. Because she needs to be. She first needs to be strong for Phoenix, then Pearl, then for the whole village of Kurain. And she manages to be, somehow. I love when characters are written this way. Once you have all the pieces together, if you go back and analyze their behavior, it makes the experience so much richer and so much more meaningful.

#had to summarize this a lot because tumblr apparently has a word limit?#oh well #hope I got the point across regardless #ace attorney #maya fey #aa musings #musings #soj spoilers

287 notes · View notes

kquil · 1 year

Text

JAMES POTTER | 02:23 ⏤THE PRETTY NURSE

SUM. : you’re the pretty nurse that james wants to woo but he just got out of surgery

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; nurse reader ; puppy love ; lovestruck james ; mutual attraction ; sirius is being a little tease ; heart monitor gives him away

LENGTH : 0.7k

“Prongs, you-” Sirius cuts himself off, unable to control himself and laughing behind his hand as Remus grinned beside him. Their friend had just gotten out of surgery to fix up his leg after an accident and was on his way to recovery in a hospital bed, hooked up to a monitor and with an IV keeping him hydrated in his arm. He looked pitiful already but his lovestruck expression made him look all the more pathetic.

“Shut up Pads,” James snapped softly, his eyes never leaving your figure as you milled about the room tending to other recovering patients that he tried not to get too jealous over. He knows you’re a nurse and it’s your job to take care of them but James was utterly besotted by you.

James can tell that your smile is genuine and that you sincerely enjoy taking care of people. It was also really attractive how intelligent you were and how beautiful you were regardless of your labour intensive work. You handled the equipment with expert hands, tended to patient needs with compassion and care, and administered medication with careful accuracy.

“Look at her…” James whispered under his breath, his gaze never leaving you, “she’s so pretty…”

“Yup, you’ve said that already,” Remus hummed in amusement, “seven times now to be exact,”

“I think he’s losing it, Moony,” Sirius teased and poked James in the shoulder but was completely ignored.

Like a silent call, James’ longing stare caught your attention and you were quickly making your way over to stand beside his bed.

“Is everything okay? Can I get you anything?” you ask, trying to suppress a familiar, flustered heat from dusting your cheeks. Your new patient, James Potter, was very handsome and some of the other nurses who saw him being wheeled into your room of the recovery ward did nothing to disguise their jealousy. Being a nurse was hard work so having a handsome hunk of a man like James around did good to relieve some of your frustrations. All it took was a single glance his way and you felt recharged.

Whilst tending to your other patients, however, instead of stealing glances at him you felt his stare lingering on you persistently. It was bad enough that such an attractive man was staring you down, it didn’t help that he also had such a longing, puppy-like look in his eyes when he did so.

When James didn’t answer and only continued to stare at you, you turned to his friends with a questioning look, “he’s good, sorry in advance for his odd behaviour,” the tall brunette comments with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” Sirius piped up, drawing your attention, “he’s just feeling a little hot under the collar, aren’t ya’ Jamesie?”

Feeling a spike of worry, you hurriedly made your way around his bed to have a closer look at him, leaning over his bed and stopping close to his face, “oh dear, are you sure you’re alright?” you stress, worried eyes scanning him for any distressing signs.

beep!beep!beep!beep!beep!

Alarmed, you snap your gaze towards the Holter monitor and gaped at James’s rapidly rising heartbeat before returning your attention back to the man in question. His cheeks were a deep red, his eyes still fixed on you, wide and glittering under the hospital lights as his pink lips were slightly agape from awe at your close proximity.

“Don’t be alarmed, love,” Sirius reassures, already giggling under his breath, “I think he’s just caught a terrible case of ‘Puppy Love-itis’,” Sirius couldn’t contain the force of his laughter any longer and threw his head back to laugh boisterously.

Embarrassed but smiling timidly, you step back and nod before turning away to make more rounds, “I’ll be back with a suitable prescription for you soon, James,”

James couldn’t believe the amount of humiliation he felt in that moment, his whole world was crumbling around him; throughout your entire interaction all he did was make a fool of himself. How could he possibly ask for your number now?

All of his worries were all for naught, however, as you soon returned with a written prescription, “I’m sure that over time, your dosage will need to be increased but you can be your own judge there,” was your only comment.

When James unfolded the small piece of paper in his hands, he couldn’t believe his eyes; you had just given him your number…

beep!beep!beep!beep!beep!

A/N : inspired by a tiktok...there's so much good material on there, don't judge me!

NAVI.

#𐂂 : TIMESTAMP #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x yn #hp marauders #hp fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders

2K notes · View notes

yume127 · 5 months

Text

I find it interesting how Roxas is often described as the “angry one” or “short-tempered one” when compared to Sora or Ventus, mostly because I always felt Sora and Ven have a shorter fuse than Roxas.

The association between Roxas and anger is understandable, because many of Roxas’ most poignant moments in the series happen when he is very (and understandably) angry, but I also feel like it’s a disservice to his character to only reduce him to his anger, especially when it’s far from who he is in normal circumstances.

For example, during Days, many Organization members treat him poorly and insult him to his face and, for the most part, Roxas doesn’t react at all. In Halloween Town, Lock, Shock, and Barrel throw bombs in his face multiple times before Roxas finally snaps at them. He senses that many people around him are keeping things from him, but it takes him months before he confronts someone about it. That’s far from someone I’d consider short-tempered or easy to anger.

The only situation I can think of when we see him get upset quickly is if anyone does or says something bad to Xion and, even then, the most of his reaction is verbally snapping at Saix to make him stop disrespecting her. In Axel’s case (when Roxas is upset with him for attacking Xion), Roxas doesn’t confront him at all, he just avoids him altogether. Also, I think it’s important to note that every moment in which Roxas is very angry happens when his entire life is falling apart, which is a situation in which, I believe, everyone would be upset.

Roxas seems the kind of person who bottles everything up without much reaction until it becomes too much and he explodes, and that’s when he has a hard time controlling his anger/emotions. Having spent most of his life in the organization probably plays a part in it as, every time he brings up any emotion, his feelings are invalidated and suppressed. That’s not an environment that gave him the tools to process strong emotions in a healthy way.

Let’s compare that to Ventus. Ven is the definition of short-tempered in BBS. He’s ready to throw hands with Vanitas the moment he says something remotely bad about Terra, which was minutes after he met him for the first time. He fought the dwarves without a second thought just because they refused to talk with him. His first reaction when he becomes small and is trapped in a mousetrap is to shout. These are just some examples from the top of my head, but it’s clear Ven has a shorter fuse than Roxas.

Ventus usually expresses how he feels in any given situation and has a short fuse. On the flip side, he doesn’t seem to hold on to these feelings at all. He externalises them the moment he feels them, but then he lets it go and it doesn’t bother him anymore. Out of the three of them, Ventus seems the most open about his emotions and, from what I remember, when he opens up about feeling a certain way with his friends, his feelings are usually not invalidated nor brushed aside. In UX, Ventus seems calmer and doesn’t have much anger in him, but he’s still open to expressing his feelings of low self-worth and sadness with the other union leaders.

Sora, I think he falls in the middle? He seems to have a shorter temper compared to Roxas, which was especially clear in KH2, where he snaps at the Organization multiple times, but he also bottles up his emotions more than Ven, especially around his friends. This happens mostly with his sadness, which he always tries to hide or brush aside, but in KH3 we can also see, for example, how much he’s bothered by everyone constantly bringing up him not passing the Mark of Mastery, even if he tries not to show it.

I think Sora feels like he should always be happy for his friends’ sake, and even during the rare moments when he tries to express his sadness, his feelings are not truly welcomed (“No frowning. No sad faces. This boat runs on happy faces”), so he just tries to brush it off as a joke. He’s loud in expressing any kind of positive emotion, and he openly expresses his anger against his enemies (and to his friends too, sometimes), but he also doesn’t hold on to that anger and is pretty forgiving. However, he usually bottles up his sadness, low self-esteem and other negative feelings, and then explodes when he can’t hold it together any longer (like it happened at the Keyblade Graveyard when he thought all his friends were gone forever).

#roxas #ventus #sora #kingdom hearts #kh #i wonder if this misconception about roxas happens because most of his personality is shown in days #like in the actual game not in the movie #and maybe people who didn't play days don't know his characterization during the game #even if i would argue sora and especially ventus suffer from the same problem but opposite #where they're often described as always happy and sunshine when there's much more to their characterization #anyway i just wanted to talk about them #sorry for any mistakes #long post

385 notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 1 year

Text

let me take care of you | XU MINGHAO

summary | taking care of Minghao after a long day of schedules

pairing | minghao x gn!reader

genre | fluff & comfort

word count | 1.3k

author’s note | honestly, I just want to take care of this man after seeing him having like 4 flights in a week

Soft tunes of "I Don't Understand But I Luv U '' were coming from the speaker in your living room, while you were finishing cooking a very late dinner for your boyfriend, who should land in Korea any minute now. With this being his fourth flight of the week, even he couldn't hide the exhaustion from you, no matter how hard he tried. Minghao did everything he could not to worry anyone about his well-being, as he was a very independent person and could take very good care of himself. It's great, you really admired that in him, but sometimes, you wish he’d lean a little bit more on you and let you take care of him.

"Just landed. Can't wait to see you."

You read the message with a huge grin on your face, while your heart skipped a bit - it has been so long since you got to have some time together for longer than an hour before sleep.

You never complained though, you knew what you were getting yourself into and even while being separated from your precious boyfriend for so long you wouldn't change it for a second.

Putting the ramen and other food on the heat to get ready, you went to your shared bedroom to put out some comfortable clothes for Minghao, so he could change into something more comfortable than his airport outfit, which you knew would be very fashionable, as per usual.

Speaking of, you quickly typed in your boyfriend's name in the Twitter search bar and to no surprise, he looked as dashing as usual.

Even seeing this short video of him, confidently walking in his long black coat, brought butterflies to your stomach.

You were so grateful that the landing in Korea was so much more peaceful than the one in China, feeling so bad for him as you saw so many people basically suffocating him during his previous flights.

Looking at all the girls surrounding him, you couldn't suppress a smile knowing that the only person who would hold him tonight is you. Not to be possessive, but he was yours, and only yours.

Being so busy with getting things ready for Minghao's arrival, you didn't even hear him entering your house.

“Hello? Anyone here?" he called out the second he noticed that there was no one there to greet him.

"Darling?" he tried again.

"Hao, is that you?" he heard your voice coming from the kitchen. Not a second after he saw your head appear from behind the kitchen island.

"What are you even doing dummy?" he asked in a jokingly offended tone, giving you one of his famous side eyes. Not caring about responding to him, you threw yourself in his embrace making him take a couple steps back, as he didn't expect the force.

"I swear, if they're going to make you fly one more time this week, I'm going to sue them," you said, nuzzling your head further into Mingaho's neck.

You could feel a slight chuckle vibrate through his body, as he lightly patted the back of your head, in a loving manner.

"I think you'll have to, darling. I'm going back after we finish filming on Monday," he gently untangled the two of you and took your face lightly in his hands, almost as if he was afraid to hurt you.

His gaze told you everything you needed to know without him actually saying it - how much he loved you and was happy to see you, how guilty at the same time he felt for leaving you so often, but also how exhausted he was. Even in spite of his tired state, he still looked at you like you were his entire world.

Being so close to him, feeling the smell of his expensive cologne, brought you so much peace and comfort. In no time, Minghao closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a delicate kiss, you both yearned for. In that single moment you felt as if nothing else existed in the world, but for the two of you, simply the feeling of her soft, perfect lips.

It is when you truly realized that he is yours and you are his. His hands stayed at the sides of your face, stroking your cheeks lightly.

"Come, I made you something to eat," you dragged your lovestruck boyfriend to the living room, making him sit on the sofa comfortably.

"You didn't have to do it, I mean it. In fact, you should be long asleep by now."

"Of course mum, whatever you say."

"I really can take care of myself, you know. This is unnecessary," he said as you put plates with food on the table. Not going to lie, you felt a little bit hurt by his statement - the only thing you wanted to do was to take care of him.

Almost as he could hear the thoughts running through your mind, he grabbed your slightly shaking hand.

"Hey, look at me," you didn't, feeling way too hurt to look him in the eye. "Darling, please. I didn't mean it like this. I'm just tired, this wasn't supposed to come out like this."

"But that's the thing Hao!" you exclaimed.

"You're tired, you just had a long flight for the hundredth time this week, and not once did you let me take care of you. I know that you like to be independent and think that you can do everything by yourself, I get it. I really do. But once, just once let me take care of you," you explained.

"I'm so sorry," the guilt in his eyes was even more noticeable now. "I just don't want to be a burden to anyone-" not letting him finish what he was about to say to you pressed a soft kiss to his silky lips. It was quick and innocent, but told Mingaho everything.

"You're not a burden to anyone Hao, and especially not to me. I'm your girlfriend, I love taking care of you, I really do," you smiled at him, caressing his cheek.

Pouting slightly, he nuzzled his cheek further into your hand, kissing it lightly.

"I love you. I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass sometimes."

"You're a pain in the ass everyday Xu Minghao," you laughed at his offended reaction. "But you're mine-" he didn't let you finish.

"Stop being so sappy, please. It's disgusting, bleh," now the both of you were laughing loudly, cuddling into each other.

After finishing your meal, you quickly did the dishes and turned off all the lights in the kitchen and living room, settling in the bedroom for the rest of the night.

While Minghao was taking a shower, you caught up with some emails and did some reading. A couple of minutes later he came out wearing the clothes you left for him.

"Ready for sleep?" you asked, putting all of the unnecessary stuff aside.

"Definitely. And please, no one disturb us till the evening tomorrow," he hummed as he got under the duvets on his side of the bed.

"Oh, I can guarantee you that," you said softly, as he laid his head in the crook of your head and put his strong arm over your waist.

Your hand automatically found its way to your boyfriend’s hair, stroking it gently. It made him sigh in relief, as he finally got to properly relax.

"I love you very much. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I love you too Hao. And thank you for letting me do so."

This was easily the best night of his week, soundly falling asleep in the arms of his one and only love.

You.

1K notes · View notes

imaginetheonewith · 1 year

Text

The one where Chandler & Y/N end up having a fake baby

Pairing: Chandler Bing x f!reader

Warnings: reader is a little bit of a bi*ch in the beginning, but other than that no <3

Author's note: loosely based on “The One With The East German Laundry Detergent” (only in the beginning); also I know I have been a little bit inactive here, but requests are open.

"So, Saturday night, the big night, date night, Saturday night, Sat-ur-day night!"

Chandler's excited voice sounded behind you, before he jumped next to the sofa, almost tripping while doing his little dance. You, Phoebe, Ross, Joey and Monica looked at him from your place around the sofa, before exchanging a knowing look between yourselves. As always, the weekend got Chandler way too excited to not do anything and spend his entire day hanging out at the coffee house, before he gets home so he can watch "Baywatch".

"No plans, huh?", Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not a one", Bing sighed, taking a seat at the empty chair next to the bar. A sudden thought entered your mind and you bit your lip, trying to suppress your smirk.

"Not even, say, breaking up with Janice?", you asked innocently, before bringing the cup of already cold cappuccino to your lips. He gave you annoyed look and you bashed your lashes at him, trying to ignore Ross' snickering next you.

"Oh right... right...", the brunette man murmured under his breath, his finger moving up and down, as if he was mentally calculating the priority of the said task in his imaginary "to-do list". Suddenly his eyes widened, before he jumped on his chair and extended his arms towards you.

"Shut up" he almost yelled through a wide smile, before slumping back to his original position with a scowl on his face.

It was not a secret that while they have been dating for months, Chandler and Janice's relationship was questionable... to everyone. What was supposed to be a one night stand ended in a rapidly progressing relationship, in which Chandler has been trying to break things off almost every week, so far unsuccessfully (apart from that one weekend a few months ago). While all of his friends were showing sympathy at the beginning, you couldn't help but feel bad for Janice too. Sure, she was loud and annoying, and overly excited about everything, but she was also clearly in love with your best friend.

"Chandler, nobody likes breaking up with someone", Monica tried to reason, putting her coffee down on the table, "You just gotta do it."

The man rolled his eyes, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to find the best words to describe his reasons for trying to avoid meeting with Janice today.

"No, I know, but it's just so hard, you know? I mean, you're sitting there with her, she has no idea what's happening, and then you finally get up the courage to do it, and there's the horrible awkward moment when you've handed her the note."

You almost spit your coffee at his last words, and you had to get a few back rubs from Joey in order to be able to get a gulp of fresh air. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed Chandler with suspicion.

"I can't believe you!", you exclaimed, lifting your hands in front of your face, "Are you not feeling at least a little bit bad for her? You've been stringing her along for months. She deserves to know the truth."

"Stringing her along?", he bit back, looking at you in disbelief, "She has been holding me hostage for months. There is a slight difference there, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to reply but the words stopped in your mouth once you felt Ross's warm hand on yours. He shook his head in a "no" motion, silently telling you that no matter what you say, you won't be able to reason with your friend.

From all of the people in the group, you knew Ross and Chandler the longest. Ross was one of your best friends during college and Chandler was... well, Chandler. He was a good and funny guy, yet your friendship never really evolved in anything past the stage of acquaintances. While you spend time together with everyone else, you never hang out alone and you if by any chance you meet on the street or in the coffee house, you have nothing more than a short casual chat about the weather or today's news.

It was not that you did not like Chandler. He was kind, good-looking, smart and with an amazing sense of humor. You even had a crush on him for a whole year after you met him, despite his weirdly styled hair. However, his commitment issues and inability to stay serious in any type of situation quickly made you realize that there is zero chance for something to happen between you and you are better off as just friends. Chandler has also never really showed any interest in you, other than jokingly flirting with you every now and then, but he did that with everyone so you never read into it too much.

Sensing the awkward silence, Joey was the first to break it by giving his typical advice.

"Why do you have to break up with her?", he raised his shoulders and looked between all of you, as if searching for your support, "Be a man, just stop calling."

You, Phoebe and Monica let out a groan in unison, rolling your eyes at him. While comments like this did stop bothering you a long time ago, you were feeling obliged to show your dissatisfaction at some of his relationship opinions.

Chandler looked at him for a few seconds, his mind deep in thought, but then shook his head, before looking at the rest of the group for help.

"Oh, I know, I know!", Phoebe jumped up and down of the sofa, while clapping her hands, "Y/N can join you."

Your eyes widened and you turned towards her, ready to protest, but were interrupted by Chandler, who looked more annoyed than shocked.

"Oh, thanks, but I think she'd feel like we're gangin' up on her."

"Plus", you added, "I wouldn't want to risk ending up in a poly relationship. I mean Janice is fine, but Chandler..."

"Hey!", he pointed at you, "I am a great lover."

"And almost 6 years of friendship, we are still waiting for a reliable source to testify to that statement", you looked towards the ceiling, while tapping your index finger on your chin, "Oh wait... there is none."

The moment you said these words, you felt the feeling of regret washing over you. The comment sounded way funnier in your head, but it came out way harsher than you intended it to be. And judging by the look on Chandler's face, he also didn't find any humor in it.

"Chandler, I..."

"No, no, you're right."

With these words, he stood up and headed towards the door, before slamming it behind him. You felt of the group's eyes on you and for the first time in your life, you wished there will be a sudden earthquake which will open the deepest crack in the floor, where you can spend your remaining days drowning in guilt and misery.

"Wow", Ross muttered, sneakily looking towards Monica, who silently mouthed "I know" at him.

"I don't know why I said that...", you buried your head in your hands and exhaled deeply, "Can this day get any worse than that? I am so sorry guys." The friends looked at each other and soon they all sat around you on the sofa, embracing your slumped body in their arms. You stayed like that for a few minutes, before you murmured you had to get home. It seems your Saturday was already doomed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No matter how hard you tried to take your mind off Chandler, he was the only thing you could think about. The harshness of your words kept ringing inside your head, filling you with guilt.

Why did you even said that? It seems the words escaped your lips, before you even had the chance to think them over. And the worst part was you had no idea how you can make things right. Would he ever speak to you again? Would he even give you the chance to listen to you?

Frustrated with all the questions in your head, you turned off the TV and quickly grabbed your bag and coat. You needed to get out of your apartment and get somewhere where you could have some time to think. Maybe even speak to someone... and what better place to do this than "Central Perk"?

10 minutes later and a hot cup of pumpkin latte, you quickly regretted your decision once Chandler barged through the door. In a minute of panic you quickly ducked at the front of the sofa, hoping that he has not seen you.

"Y/N?"

You cursed under your breath, before lifting your head. Chandler was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking at you with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Chandler!", you sat on your knees, while brushing your hair on the side, "I did not see you there."

"Strange", he smiled sarcastically, cocking his head to the side, "I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that your head was buried into the carpet."

You let out an awkward chuckle, lifting yourself onto the couch. You licked your lips, trying to gather at least one reasonable excuse for the position he found you in.

"Ha-ha, you see....", you paused, letting out another chuckle, "I was actually... checking for bugs."

"Bugs?", Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"Yes!", you exclaimed, almost too excitedly, "You see I thought something bit me earlier, so I decided to investigate what it was."

The man looked at you for a minute, carefully studying your face in silence. You met his gaze, but soon felt a drop of sweat slowly sliding down your forehead. The intensity of his stare made you shift uncomfortably in your place and you let another awkward chuckle, gathering the courage to speak about what happened earlier.

"Look, Chandler..."

He lifted his palm towards you, stopping your sentence:

"Look, I am not mad. You are right, I do not have great record with women and I know that it is because of me that most of my relationships don't work."

You closed your eyes, letting out a small sign. Without much hesitation, you reached towards one of his hands, wrapping your fingers around it.

"You are an amazing, amazing man, Chandler Bing", you opened your eyelids again, only to find him already staring at you. The sudden eye contact caused a warm feeling to wash over your whole body and you bit your lips in order to stop any inappropriate thought slipping out.

"You are smart, funny, kind and an amazing friend. And while you may not have found your soulmate yet, I know she is one very, very lucky lady. Because I know I would be, if I end up with someone like you."

His fingers squeezed your hand and his body shifted towards you, without breaking eye contact. You gulped, feeling the blood rushing towards your cheeks. You have not seen Chandler like this for years, yet the feeling of his warm skin on yours and his musky perfume made your old feelings rush like a waterfall on you.

"Oh. My. God."

The sudden sound of Janice's voice made you jump apart, resulting with Chandler being on the floor.

"Chandler", Janice exclaimed, looking between both of you, "What is the meaning of this?"

He opened his mouth, but could get nothing more than a groan, so he quickly closed it again. Lifting himself, he opened his arms to his girlfriend, letting out a fake laugh.

"Janice, I am so glad you are here!", he cried, before turning towards the bar, "Can I get an espresso and two lattes over here, please?"

He pushed the dark haired woman towards the sofa, pushing her to sit next to you. You smiled awkwardly at her, putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Nice to see you, Janice! I was just going. Hope you two have a nice.... date?"

You made an attempt to get up, but felt a hand harshly pulling you back down. Looking down, Janice's red nails were firmly wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

"Nuh-uh, missy. I want to know what is going on between you and Chandler."

"Me and Chandler?", you chocked, putting a hand on your chest, "There is nothing going on between us. I don't understand... We are just friends."

She finally let go of your hand, only to cross her arms in front of her chest and squint her eyes at you.

"Really?", her voice suddenly got higher and louder, making you wince, "So you just tell al your friends you would feel lucky if you ended up with them."

"Where is the coffee? Where is the coffee?", Chandler shook on his chair next to you.

You on the other hand could not form even one sentence. Like a mouse trapped in a trap, you could do nothing more than to stare back at her with wide eyes and flushed face. Were you that into Chandler, that you could not see his girlfriend right behind you?

Before you could form any words into your defense, Chandler spoke:

"We are dating. Y/N and I are dating."

Both you and Janice both turned your heads towards him at the same time.

"What?", you said in unison.

"That's right", he nodded, quickly wiping the sweat of his forehead with his shirt sleeve, "We have been dating for six months now."

Janice stared at him in shock for few minutes, before bursting into laughter.

"My little Bing-a-ling!", she grabbed a handful of his cheek, pulling him towards her, "I get it now! This is one of your silly little jokes! You almost got me there!"

He continued laughing, while Chandler's face twisted in pain. His eyes met yours and he mouthed "Help me", while trying to pull away from the woman's grip. You spend a second, considering if that is a good time to leave, but against your better judgement you decide to play along.

"Janice", you grabbed her hand away from Chandler's cheek, turning her towards you, "It is true. Me and Chandler are together."

"But how?", her eyes started to fill with tears, before she turned towards him, "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? NO!"

You quickly glared at Chandler, making him only shake his shoulders in response.

"Then how is this possible?", Janice kept looking between both of you, trying to make sense of the situation.

"She is keeping me hostage", your friend suddenly said, making you roll your eyes. You were trying to go along with his little story but he was making it really, really difficult. You started to wonder if you didn't do a mistake by staying here.

"Hostage?", Janice yelled, getting the attention of a few customers around you. You smiled awkwardly at them, before squeezing her hand once again and giving a warning look to Chandler to keep his mouth shut.

"No, I am not keeping anyone hostage", you assured her, "And we have not told you the full truth."

You took a moment of silence and looked at Chandler for help, but he had his nose buried in his third cup of espresso. Letting out a small sign, you've pulled Janice's hand till it rested on your stomach:

"The truth is... I am pregnant... with Chandler's child."

Your words made him choke on his drink and some of the liquid started dripping out of his nose. Janice looked at you with an open mouth, barely blinking.

"Pregnant?... What... How?"

"Well... You and Chandler were broken up a few months ago and I felt so lonely that I invited him for a movie... Then one thing led to another, and... Boom! I am pregnant."

Finally getting himself together, Chandler took a seat next to Janice and rubbed comforting circles on her shoulder.

"Janice, I am really, really sorry!"

Both of her looked at her shocked form, waiting for her to burst into tears, but surprisingly that never happened. You and your friend exchanged worrying looks, before you cautiously asked:

"Janice, are you okay?"

Shaking her head she gave a thin lipped smile, before turning to Chandler:

"Listen, Bing... I really like you and you are very nice guy, but I don't think it could work out between us. I mean you are going to have a baby with Y/N and I am not ready to be a step-mom. I really hope you understand and I do wish you the best."

She turned towards you:

"To both of you."

With these words she stood up and grabbed her coat, leaving you and Chandler frozen on the sofa. Only once she was out of the door, you relaxed back and let out the breath, which you didn't even know you were holding.

"A baby?", Chandler asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"A hostage?", you asked back, raising yours. Seeing your logic, he nodded his head, before letting out a quiet chuckle: "Oh, freedom does taste niiiceeee."

You let out a laugh, gently packing him on the back. But before you could congratulate him on his new status as a single man, Ross, Monica, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel ran through the door, almost jumping on top of both of you:

"You two are going to have a baby?"

Oh crap.

#chandler bing x y/n #chandler bing #friends imagine #friends fanfic #chandler bing x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #fandom #90s #fanfic #imagine #fluff

704 notes · View notes

thebabblingbrookenook · 9 days

Text

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

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

Three days.

That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill. You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

Anthony Bridgerton.

Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

“Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce. “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I’m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

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

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

#anthony bridgerton and you #anthony bridgerton smut #Anthony Bridgerton and Reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton modern au

97 notes · View notes