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#the sooner I get ready the better right
rosicheeks · 1 year
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Goodnight Rosi. May you dream of butterflies.
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polkadotpatterson · 7 months
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okeydoke as I have not had much energy for working on stuff lately (but lots of motivation) I'm not gonna do proper NaNo with a wordcount or anything, BUT I am gonna make it a goal to get some amount of work done on a writing project every day (at least until I go away on the 24th). Main priority blaseball projects are, in no particular order:
Fic about the ending
Abner fic
Simon's Quest
secret fic(s) :)
get the Talkers exchange set up
Aside from that, I've been poking at more non-blaseball stuff, which is a good excuse for me to plug my writing blog @cyndakip! All my fics get posted there, so if you're interested in my writing beyond just blaseball (especially if you like pokemon), I recommend following me there, since I don't post non-blaseball fics here.
#I'm in a weird place rn where the end of blb is coinciding with me finally feeling ready to get back to nuzlockes#and I very much want to keep writing blb fics! it's just complicated by me getting smacked over the head with pokemon motivation#and separate from that I think it's just been hard for me to work on blb fics knowing that it's over#writing the ending fic in particular means confronting that. and I definitely haven't fully processed it yet and idk when I will#I really truly do want to keep writing blb fics for a long time but I worry there will be not much of an audience anymore#and I know that doesn't matter. I'm gonna write what I want and I know some people will still read it. but yknow. it's rough#also my relationship with pokemon and the nuzlocke community has been really fucking complicated these past few years#to the point where I stopped engaging altogether bc it was stressing me out too much and I had lost all confidence in my writing#this happened to be right before I got into blb. which came along at the perfect time and gave me the community & confidence boost I needed#now it kinda feels like we've come full circle. blb has changed me and now I'm ready to go back with a whole new attitude#I just don't want these two things to be mutually exclusive! I want both! but that's easier said than done#especially bc I haven't had enough energy to work on much of either lately! I want to say things are getting better on that front but#it's complicated. you know how it is with human bodies. treacherous things#the thing is I don't want to waste this. I feel ready for pokemon again and god I missed it and I'm gonna ride this wave of motivation#if I had more energy this would be less of a problem. ah well#gonna get all this done sooner or later#talking moistly
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months
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I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO SAY ANYTHING OF SUBSTANCE BUT PLEASE ENJOY MOVIE <333
IT WAS DEFINITELY A MOVIE
#snap chats#HEY SORRY I MEANT TO RESPOND TO THIS SOONER BUT I WAS GETTING MY STREAM SET UP READY FOR TOMORROW/LATER#BUT YAYA I DID WATCH THE MOVIE AND MAN.#i should get shot for this but i just kept getting reminded of sailor suit- which is a compliment we know i loved sailor suit...#ALSO TAKE A SHOT FOR EVERY MAKOTO WE RUN INTO at least he didnt. fucking DIE this time#if i had a nickel every time there was a yakuza movie bout a girl becoming a yakuza boss who had a dude named makoto helping her#then golly gee#and look at that..... the matriarch actually got to be a matriarch after everyone died 🧍‍♂️#on the real tho.... it was hard watching the movie there were too many beautiful women i almost started crying when i saw them#nana was adorable. i stan matriarchs who inherit their relative's yakuza family#she had every right to dump her dads ashes in the bay tho im just saying but shes a better person than me so ig not#ima be so tbh tho the bro played by motomiya had been giving me ibuchi energy if not solely cause of the one (1) white-collared yakuza grun#movie had me HUNGRY got me wantin curry...... fucked up#i loved tetsu bro.. what a vibe.. what a king I STAN.#ALSO YEAH VERY RGG REMINISCENT WITH THE PARKING GARAGE SCENE had me thinkin we were goin into a set piece#complete with Sudden Vehicle QTE. and i shant neglect The Final Set Piece with ryu dazzling up and killing everyone#gorgeous....... rip queen they really up and shot ryu at the end LIKE BRO i quit#in any case.. i oughta sleep i struggled WAY too long to get the stream ready#so gn eveyrone. ty for sendin me the movie was def a fun watch :] see yall later.......
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medicinemane · 3 months
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I don't know, here's my problem with all that gratitude stuff people are always pushing
I'm here finding myself grateful for the really bad unexplained stomach problems I had for months that randomly flared up so bad I couldn't leave the house safely somedays (literally missed my last doctor's appointment cause it turned out that wasn't a day to be out and about)
Like unprompted, not as some kind of exercise or something, I find myself being like "yeah it may have royally sucked, but it really has helped me get a feel for how my stomach is doing so maybe I appreciate it"
Feel like that's fairly gratitude minded when you can find yourself being grateful for basically months of being sick, you know?
...so fuck off an let me be. If me organically being grateful for a painful time in my life where a lot of nights I'd be worried about going to sleep and dealing with issues so bad I was worried about how I was gonna be able to take this trip unless I got lucky... if I just on my own end up being grateful for that and still want to put a bullet in my head, maybe gratitude isn't a cure all
Maybe piss off with it, you know? I'm the first to say it's good to be grateful for shit, and frankly even walls (even when there's insulation issues) are a fucking blessing and I'll always thank my house for everything it does for me
Still not a magic bullet against depression and I get fucking sick of everyone talking like it is one... like if I just gratituded harder I'd feel better
#as always; this is why I have my no advice without being willing to help implement it policy#I don't get to tell people what to do to feel better#I just get to offer support and get stuck in with helping try to change things for the better for them in my small ineffective ways#and you know they may never feel better; and that would fucking suck cause they deserve to#but I'm not gonna make them feel bad for being open and honest about how they're doing#and I'll just keep telling them the things I like about them till maybe one day they can internalize it#and... and I'll keep trying to do the small things I can to help support them in making changes#or if at all possible directly participate in making a change for them#rather have someone be miserable and honest about it than ever try to spare my feelings#no I never want them to be doing bad but I'd rather try to just sit with them through it than make them sit alone#and I'd rather fix it all... but sometimes neither of us fucking can right now... and it's time to wait with them#had someone dealing with a real shit situation#and you know what? I knew the exact fix for the shit situation#but here's the problem... people can't do shit till they're ready and me trying to force it would have made it worse#so I just hung out and let them vent and repeatedly made sure they knew they were making sense; validated their perception of reality#made an introduction so they had more people around who'd be in their corner building them up instead of tearing them down#eventually they made the fix I knew was the fix all along and it hurt like hell to do it#and yet things started getting better pretty much immediately; cause it was always the problem#and if I could go back and do it again I'd do it the same; I wouldn't force the fix any sooner cause it had to be their choice#and frankly me pushing could have sabotaged shit#and it's still hard; and often all I can do is sit with them as they ride shit out right now and... I don't like that#I want to fix things in every way for them; they deserve that#but I can't... so I'd rather be with them as things are than make them repair everything so I feel comfortable#that's my opinion on all this#and frankly if you want to dig up my nasty bitter fucking side I try to keep tamped down#this shit is a good way to bring that side of me out#like fuck off; either you're gonna help or you're being a fucking busy body#and you can shove your advice up your ass cause spoiler I fucking tried it#I never stop putting one foot in front of the other and it's got me a house and I cleaned that fucking trailer#so how about you stuff it if you don't like how miserable I am
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dollfacefantasy · 25 days
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34 + 35 ♡
older bf!toji fushiguro x fem!reader
you tell toji you can handle a 69, and he wants you to prove it to him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, 69ing, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, light praise/degradation
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“Get to it, doll. You said you could do it,” your boyfriend teases from beneath you.
Toji’s hand meets your ass hard, a clear smack ringing throughout the room. You nearly topple over onto him from the jolt but stabilize yourself before you crash. Your hands grab onto his hips as you glance down at his toned body.
It’s where you were heading anyways, so you relax your arms and lower yourself. Your abdomen rests flush against his. Your face hovers a few inches from his cock. It was already hard, the tip an even brighter red against the pale skin of his pelvis. It’d been in your mouth before countless times, but never while he also had his face buried between your legs.
“C’mon. You wanted a proper 69, didn’t ya? Gotta put it in your mouth then, sweet thing,” he coos.
His own hands currently ghosted up and down the back of your thighs, leaving chills in their wake. He teasingly nips and kisses at the skin leading up to your center. Your anticipation builds, and you know you do in fact need to get to it. It was your idea after all. He’d just gotten back from a bounty, one he actually collected successfully. He was in a better mood than normal, just wanted you to sit on his face as a treat.
You couldn’t just be happy with that generous offer. Too many comments about how hard he was ended up with the two of you debating whether or not you could handle 69ing. You knew you couldn’t. You went dumb with his cock in your mouth while on your knees with nothing distracting you. But you couldn't just let him be right all the time, that was no fun.
Now you’re here though. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock tentatively as you spit a decent amount of saliva onto the head. You watch it dribble down the veiny shaft. It takes a little to go down the full length to your fingers, but as soon as it does, you start stroking. Up and down, your hand squeezes gently as you get his dick slippery.
“Daddy’s not gonna start till I feel those pretty lips wrapped around me,” he whispers, his way of saying stop wasting time while in a good mood.
Parting your lips, you take it just like he taught you to. Just like he likes it. You suckle the tip deeper and bob your head, swirling your tongue and flicking it against the little ridge. His chest deflates under you as he lets out a pleasured sigh.
It doesn’t take him long to return the favor though. His tongue darts out and laps at your clit. His large hands hold your hips firmly in place. There was no squirming away from this. Each breath gave him a hit of your heady scent. 
For him, this was heaven. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this with you sooner. He got to have that precious little mouth on his cock while devouring his baby like she was the finest meal on earth.
You, on the other hand, weren’t faring as well. You were already shuddering from the sensations. Each stripe he licked over your cunt, each swipe against your swollen bud made you whine and just wanna melt on top of him.
You keep trying though. You suck more of him into your mouth, stroking the part of him you aren’t ready for yet. Spit leaks from your mouth and coats even more of his length which pulses in your mouth. The weight of it on your tongue has your mind beginning to swirl. Precum oozes from the head and coats your tongue.
“Daddy…” you whine, but it comes out garbled because of the dick in your mouth.
He chuckles and gives you another nice slap on the ass. “That’s right, baby. You’re takin’ daddy so good, makin’ me proud,” he mutters into your pussy.
He holds you down tighter, pressing your cunt right up close to his face. His tongue laves at your sensitive bundle of nerves, twirling around it, teasing it with tiny flitting motions and then overwhelming you with a harsh suck. Your whimpers get louder while your hand slows down on his cock.
You gotta make him proud though. You force yourself to take more, lodging him as far in your throat as you can get him. He hears the little gag that comes from you as you try to get your mouth all the way around his shaft. His lips morph into a smirk against your center. He continues making out with your cunt like he’s trying to take in every last drop of you.
As he gets sloppier, going from precise and calculated to messy and open-mouthed, you start to lose it a bit. Your hands shake, and you have to grip his hips to keep yourself somewhat steady. You keep sucking his cock, hollowing your cheeks and rhythmically rising and falling. More needy whimpers fall from your lips. You try to rock your hips, but he’s got a good grip on ‘em.
“It's getting harder, isn’t it baby?” he taunts. His hand slithers between your legs to rub at your puffy clit a little bit, drawing an even louder noise from you. “Now you’re seeing why daddy just wanted to play with you first.”
“I- I’m fine…” you stammer out. It’s an obvious lie, but you try to maintain the facade.
“You are? Still wanna act like a big girl, huh?” he teases.
His mouth takes over again. You’re left shivering with your eyes screwed shut. You inhale sharply before trying to return to your task. You go back to stroking him. Your hand twists as it goes, brushing over the head and smearing the sticky, white droplets over the length.
But as soon as his hand comes back and pinches your clit, you squeal and your efforts fail. Your head drops to his pelvis where your cheek squishes against his warm skin. He only wishes he could see your face because he knows the way your lips are puffing out into that cute pout. Your hips rut on instinct, and he has to lock them in place with a tighter hold.
“Stay still, babydoll. Seems like you’re getting a little distracted,” he murmurs before reattaching his lips to your pussy.
You moan loudly but scoot your head a little closer. 
“I’m not, daddy,” you whimper. Your tongue sticks out to lap at his balls. You suckle one into your mouth, but all he does is laugh.
He nuzzles further between your legs, speeding up the motions of his tongue. Your legs start to quiver and tense up. They close around his head, and he knows what’s coming.
“Let it out,” he grunts.
Your back arches and your nails dig into his flesh. You take your mouth off him all together and turn your head against his thigh to hide the expressions your features scrunch into. You groan against him, your hips bucking and jerking with each wave of euphoria. 
He lets you ride it out, but once you come down, he doesn’t stop. You claw at his legs, trying to crawl away and seek refuge between his huge thighs. He pulls you back into place though and kneads your ass cheeks soothingly.
“Not gonna happen, little girl. Not letting you go until you get me to cum at least once,” he says. With that, he’s back to using his mouth for more important things.
“Daddy!” you whine. Normally, that would be easy, but you couldn’t even do it the first time around and now you had overstimulation frying your nerves.
He’s loud between your thighs, wet, sensual noises echoing from the top of the bed where his head rests. You try to match and slurp around his shaft, but it’s difficult when you’re so shaky and it feels like your insides are melting.
You’re so whiny too. Your head drops back to its place next to his dick as you lazily jerk him off.
He keeps going and brings you to another high minutes later. You mewl even louder for him and drop his cock, letting it fall against your face and rest on your cheek. Your eyes flutter as the ecstasy takes over for a moment.
“Not so easy is it, baby?” he croons, “It’s so much easier just letting daddy take care of you, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hum with a dizzy nod.
He places a tender kiss on your clit and chuckles as he sees you clench around nothing. This time he does give you a small break. You both knew he could reduce you to a puddle of sobs and moans if he so desired, but he wanted to give you a little chance.
And you don’t take it for granted. You lift your head again. Your cheek feels numb from being pressed to his hip for a while. As the blood circulates through it again, you return your lips to the tip of his cock. You spit down on it for the second time tonight and take it into the warm embrace of your mouth.
Your sucking starts off languid. He was still lapping at your cunt, but not with the dedication he had previously. He kept you simmering in pleasure but held off the real heat of bliss for now. Little sounds of delight still come from you every so often, but they're muffled around his girth.
You start increasing the speed of your head and tighten the suction of your mouth a bit. It’s his turn to let his head fall back. His thumb weakly rubs up and down your pussy while he enjoys the feeling of you sucking him off.
“Fuck, dolly,” he groans, “That’s it. Such a good girl.”
You suck more, feeling like you can actually do this. You’re drooling all over his cock, eyes going glossy like they always did when you had nothing on the brain but Toji. Your lips smack around the tip haphazardly before you take it down your throat again. You hold your breath for a moment, letting him enjoy your throat. You then rise up again before bobbing your head with the most fervor you can muster.
His hips twitch a bit, and he chokes out some moans against your dripping cunt. He starts increasing the pressure of his mouth, wanting to make you cum once more with him. Your hips tremble, but you’re determined. If you didn’t get it now, you figured you’d be spending the night with his head between your thighs.
“You’re gonna make daddy cum, doll. Fuck,” he mutters, “Actin’ like a perfect slut just for me.”
You lick his cock from the base to the tip, flattening your tongue and trying to hit every sensitive spot he had. His fingers dig into the plump of your ass more. You could feel little marks forming on your skin, but they only spurred you on.
“That’s my little girl. That’s what that mouth was made for,” he breathes.
Whimpering and twitching, you take him as deep as you can again.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts. His hips snap up a bit as he shoots his load down your throat. You can practically feel the rumbling of his groans against your tummy. They rise in his chest and seep out against your entrance as he continues fucking his tongue into you. You take in deep breaths through your nose as he works you to one more release. It’s not as intense as the first two, but the dull pleasure is still one of the best feelings you’ve experienced. 
You swallow every drop of cum he gives you before pulling off him for the final time. A string of saliva still connects you with his shiny tip as your head collapses onto him.
He takes a deep breath before lifting you up and spinning you around like it’s nothing. Your head now rests against his chest where you can listen to the thundering of his heart. He hums with satisfaction and rubs his hand up and down your back.
“Did I do good, daddy?” you mumble.
He looks down at you and the slow way you blink when you’ve cum a few times.
“Yeah, babydoll. You did as much as you could,” he says with a little smirk.
You pop your head up at the playful jab. “I tried. It’s not my fault you’re like… so good at that,” you say and shoot him a look.
“Sure, sure. I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing till you get better at it, hm?” he teases.
You nod before leaning in and kissing him. The both of you part your lips to deepen the exchange, tasting one another in the other’s mouth.
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amomentsescape · 9 months
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Slashers React to You Being Harassed
Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words
A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!
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Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.
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Michael Myers
You were honestly a little scared
Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man
Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own
Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby
He was a blatant and proud stalker
So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-
Welp
The man is now dead with a slit throat
That was quick
"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"
He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home
"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest
He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks
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Jason Voorhees
This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you
You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two
But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood
You scream
The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer
"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."
He just tilts his head at you
You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now
Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder
"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning
He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out
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Brahms Heelshire
You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line
So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you
And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house
Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight
So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment
You screamed
It lasted a few seconds
But the man didn't seem fazed
"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said
"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him
The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground
Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock
"Thank you-" you started
Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house
He didn't let you go outside for a while after that
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Billy Loomis
You were about ready to punch this man yourself
But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone
This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you
But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger
A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds
After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you
"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy
It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion
"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"
Billy avoided your gaze
"Were you stalking me?"
"I like to call it, observing"
You let out a groan
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Stu Macher
You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself
This boy is glued at your hip 24/7
The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say
Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long
So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark
"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely
How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next
But this man was pissing you off so...
"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"
And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest
Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside
He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time
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Eric Draven
You were honestly getting freaked out by this man
In a city like this, anyone could be hurt
But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building
"Thank you," you murmured
"What was that?" the man spat back
You couldn't help but smile a bit
"You're about to get your ass kicked"
He just laughed at you
Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind
He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante
"Hi"
The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe
And he continued to be struck another 17 times
Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red
"You didn't have to kill him," you said
Eric just shrugged
"Oops?"
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munsonsreputation · 5 months
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yours
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eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: [2.9K]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established-ish relationship, eddie feeling like he's not good enough, mentions of financial difficulties, overall fluff goodness!!! loosely based off "i wanna be yours" by the arctic monkeys
summary: eddie's down bad for you and all he wants to be is yours — you thought he already was.
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It should feel pathetic, the way Eddie dropped everything in a heartbeat and came dashing to you the moment you called out his name, but to him it was the greatest honor for your mouth to even utter his name — he’d simply come crawling if you’d ask.
“Eds,” nickname made him go weaker for you.
Your voice was a small whisper and your hand grazed shakily upon his forearm, giving it a tender squeeze as you leaned in closer just enough for your breath the dance over his earlobe. His opposite hand didn’t falter, binding around to rest on the small of your back staying there to keep you steady in the cramped position.
“S’the matter, sweets?” He murmured loud enough for you to hear over the music of the party, brows pinching together, watching you intently.
He felt you pinch his skin again, your thumb and forefinger rubbing over the area apologetically, as you met his eyes, “C-could you come with me outside? Just need some fresh air and I don’t want to go alone.” Your voice was almost saturated with regret for feeling like such a hassle.
But Eddie didn’t want you to go alone, anyway.
It was a friend of a friend’s house party on the other side of town with plenty of people that you and him didn’t necessarily know too well. Honestly, you didn’t even have to ask. You could’ve just walked right up and grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out the front door and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.
But the way you ask him as if he’d ever say no made his heart melt because clearly you didn’t quite know how head over heels he was for you already.
There wasn’t much to it after that. Eddie simply gave your back a small pat and begun to stand up from his seat, letting his arm wrap across your shoulders as he maneuvered the both of you through the sea of bodies.
“Thanks.” You smiled tenderly up at him through the walk, encasing your hands around his biceps and following his lead out the front door that was propped wide open.
Eddie knew you like the back of your hand, the way your senses tended to get overstimulated when the music was too loud, chatter was too chattery, and the footsteps too heavy — he knew all of those things and he never minded that he was painstakingly aware because he wanted to be when it came to you.
These days, your comfort meant more to him than anything in the world. Tonight, it was an overload, and he wanted to curse himself for not noticing sooner.
It didn’t happen all the time, but occasionally you just needed a minute away, far away where those things couldn’t be heard at all. You didn’t even have to ask him to walk with you a few blocks down in the neighborhood to get away from hearing the thump of the party. He just continued on, letting you cling to him as he gave your shoulders a squeeze every so often to silently ask you if it was all better now.
It was always better when it was just you and Eddie.
“Sorry, it was just so loud.” You exhaled shakily, untying your arms from his muscles and instead hugging yourself to his torso, breathing him in — letting him fill your senses.
He found it heartening that you gravitated to him like that no matter where you were. Eddie was like your giant portable teddy bear, always near and ready for you to jump into his arms. His chin rested on the top of your head, draping his arms over your back and pulling you closer — the closest he can get you to keep you here and warm.
“S’okay, you don’t have to apologize, baby.” His voice was soothing and ironing out any worries that lingered.
“But you were talking to Rick then I—”
You could feel his head rock against you, a puff of air exiting his mouth with a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything. Just stupid talk anyway. You know I’d drop anything for you.”
The emphasis on ‘you’ was endearing because you felt the exact same way for Eddie. The urgency to be at his side whenever he needed you and even when he didn’t say it, you can feel it in your bones, because in soul you just knew.
“I know.” You said, dragging your face away from his chest to beam up at him, tiptoeing to press a kiss under his jaw before setting back into him.
He could still feel your lips on his skin, a sort of electrifying touch that should have had him running because it had to be too good to be true, yet all he wanted was more but only if it was you. Whether it was here on a shadowy sidewalk or maybe at the Hideout after one of his shows, and the end of the night and the start of the day, it could only be you and him.
All he ever wanted now was it for you both to be where you belonged — always in each other’s arms.
“Wanna go home?” He crooned, sliding a delicate hand through the ends of your hair careful not to let his rings catch.
You pressed another kiss this time to the center of his clothed chest, gawking up at him. “Do you?” You sought putting himself first instead of your own — good thing Eddie could read you like a book.
He grinned, cheeks tugging his knowing smiling impossibly wider. “Yeah, I do.”
He led you to his van, shrugging off his leather jacket and dressing it over your body as you settled into the passenger seat. You often got cold on late night drives and felt bad for asking to turn down the air conditioning so in order to comprise, though he never minded, whatever jacket he was sporting always ended up acting as a blanket until you got home and he could he yours.
“Feeling warmer?” Eddie chuckled, darting quickly from the road to your body that was curled up in the seat.
You nodded with a hum, bringing the sleeve of his jacket away from your face. “Better, but I really wanna take a hot shower when we get home.”
He let out a sound of agreement, reaching over for the air conditioning vents closer to you and flipping them up so less of the cold air was directed in your direction. It was a pure act, one that you picked up all the time even when you promised you were okay — part of you liked to think he had spidey-senses and could feel the shivers you tried to hide from him.
He could feel everything without you saying a word, a kind of connection you never thought was possible in this lifetime.
“Gonna do an everything shower tonight?” He asked with a glint of humor in his voice.
He was familiar with your ‘everything’ showers: full body exfoliations, deep conditioning, hair masks, the whole shebang. Eddie was more than happy to sit outside the shower, keeping you company for the next hour that used up all the hot water.
Truth be told, he subjected to everything showers at least once a month — when he was all burnt out from work and just wanted to relax, you’d fill the bath up with epsom salts, sit on the ledge of the tub as you shampooed his hair, and the both of you would talk until the water turned cold.
You giggled, shaking your head tiredly at him. “Not today. I’m too tired. We can shower together if you want? I like it better when you wash my hair.”
Who was he to turn that down?
“My pleasure, doll.”
Home was Eddie’s and his uncle Wayne’s shared trailer — it was your favorite place to be, despite what Eddie thought of the quaint space. It had an even smaller bathroom, but you didn’t care, pleased that it gave you the excuse to be closer to him in the most intimate way.
He always let you stand directly in the stream, letting the hot water cascade over your naked body while he received the backsplash of the droplets against his cool skin. His fingers worked through your scalp, the chunky rings shed for the time being, allowing him to be more firm in his movements, getting your scalp nice and clean.
You were humming a song, and he wasn’t sure which one, your voice too quiet for him to hear over the water and the suds from the shampoo. He thought it was something from the new Madonna album he picked up for you on cassette, and he was sure it would only be a few more days before he learned all the lyrics and got them stuck in his head.
When lather foamed up on your head like a heap of bubbles and that’s when he knew he’s done enough washing, nudging your shoulder with a kiss of his lips as he was mumbling against your skin.
“Turn around and let me rinse it out, sweets.”
You nodded, twirling on your heels as his hands instinctively grabbed at your shoulders making sure you didn’t slip and fall. You shut your eyes tightly, letting the water flow over the back of your head, his fingers once again combing through the ends gently, doing his best to not let the soapy water travel down your face.
He took his time even though he clearly didn’t see the suds running any more. He just wanted to admire your pretty face with your eyes closed because that meant you didn’t try dodging away from his gaze.
He noted how you felt the suds wash away, face then relaxing and the pinching of your eyes eased and a tired smile took over like you were seconds away from dreaming.
Yet he knew he couldn’t let you sleep like that, bringing you back with a gentle kiss upon your lips until you finally switched places, letting him be under the showerhead.
“You’re running out of shampoo.” You pouted, reaching down to grab at his bottle and squeeze a dollop into your palm.
He shrugged, keeping his arms around your waistline as your hands wandered up and began raking the product through his hair. Your nails were a bit longer than his, scratching at his scalp just enough that it didn’t hurt, but tickled in a pleasing way.
“I’ll pick some up tomorrow. Do we need more conditioner too?” He proposed already peeking one of his eyes open to stare at the nearly empty bottle.
You thought he didn’t know, but Eddie knew you hated when he spent money on you, even if it was a shared thing like conditioner or shampoo. He did a lot for his home, helping his uncle with rent with whatever tips he made from his share tips at the Hideout and when times were rough, pawning things just for the extra cash.
You wanted him to save some for himself, something he could call his own instead of giving it to you when you didn’t need it.
But things were starting to get a lot better with Eddie picking up a job at the General Store after Joyce became manager and was able to hire him as a cashier. He’d spoil you to cool thrifted jewelry and take you out on dates at Benny’s where he’d let you pick whatever you wanted and promised that you two wouldn’t have to share a single meal or a single drink.
In a lot of ways, Eddie’s love language was gift giving even if it was small acts. In all honestly, if Eddie could pluck every single star from the galaxy and give it to you in a bouquet sprinkled with flowers and love letters he would.
He’d give you the whole world if he could.
But even then, you’d probably tell him how he didn’t have to do all of that because all you ever needed was him. Same thing went for that silly bottle of conditioner that he knew you’d fill up with water and let last another two weeks before he’d pick a new one up without asking you.
Your fingers falter against his scalp before you shake your head, “No, we’re fine. It should last us until next week or so.”
He called it.
“Hmm, sure,” He grunted, wiggling his shoulders, “You said you wanted to try that new brand right? The lavender and mint scent?” He urged, not trying to tease, but it came out that way with the smile he still wore.
“Stop it.” You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back your guffaw as you motioned for him to turn around so you could rinse out the product.
You knew it no use trying to change his mind… if you were lucky, you’d say by the time he got home from work tomorrow he’d walk in with a bag of groceries and a new bottle of conditioner and shampoo in one of them.
And the both of you would probably end up here again… showering each other with love and suds of a new scent that will become your new favorite — he would definitely remember until you decided it was time for something new.
The two of you spent the rest of the shower with delicate hands roaming across bare skin, quietly conversating about any and everything under the warm water that was slowly running cold. When the water finally shut off, you both patted your bodies dry and standing in front of the mirror where Eddie watched you complete your skin care routine before helping him with his own.
You ended up dressed his oversized t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers as he settled for sweatpants that hung low on his hips. If you weren’t so tired, you’d jump his bones and get dirty all over again, but for the sake of your energy, you could wait it out till morning, happy to know you got to jump his bones in another way that was just as good.
His room was pitch black, cascaded with the pale moonlight that peeked past the curtains with the slight breeze coming from the ceiling fan whirling above you. His blanket was pulled up to your collarbones, keeping you warm alongside himself who acted as your portable heater. One of your legs rucked over his hips as the other rested against his thigh.
Eddie could feel your breathing against his chest, cheek nuzzled up right under his head that thumped for you… always for you.
All of his being, every inch and ounce of him was committed to you but he despised himself for not knowing if that was what you wanted. There was never a talk or conversation about what the two of you were.
It just so happened that it happened.
He gulped, thumb caressing your shoulder in random patterns as he looked down at you. “Baby?” he called out, checking to see if you were still awake before you hummed against him, “What am I to you?”
“Huh?” You moaned out, brows furrowing with your eyes still closed, caught between being awake and drifting off to sleep.
“Y’know, like…this. Us.” Eddie shifted a bit, just enough to be able to move your damp hair away from your face, “What am I to you?”
You didn’t give it much thought. The only thing in your head was the four letter word echoing because even in the dead of night on the brink of slumber, Eddie was always going to be the one for you.
“Mine.” You said, voice stronger than before, as you fought your eyes open and looked up at him past the darkness.
“Y-yeah?”
His voice seemed to betray his smile, like he still couldn’t fathom you could see him in that light. The kind that didn’t glare off his flaws or the things that he was afraid of… you didn’t make him feel less than for having fears or not being the perfect person.
To you it only made him more human, the one that you wanted to spend forever with.
“You’ve always been mine, Eds.” You murmured, moving yourself up on your elbows just enough to look down at him.
Your palm came down to where your head had laid, pressing against his heart and letting him know you were right there with him all along.
“What do you want to be to me?” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his, swimming in them, trying to get a glimpse into his thoughts.
His fingers wrapped around your wrist, feeling your pulse that beat in sync with his. There was no doubt in his mind that he always wanted you to be his, but he was always afraid he was never enough to be yours.
Not until now.
“Yours,” He breathed, finally letting go of the secret he held too long in his heart to try to hide any longer.
Smiling at him like he had plucked every star from the galaxy and laid them all out here for you. That’s when you knew what it was… what it had been all along. You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, still smiling stupidly lovesick at him—
“You always have been.”
A kiss, a bond that sealed you two together forever because maybe all you wanted to be was each other’s, in this lifetime and all the others ones that existed.
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: this one has been sitting in my wips since forever and i finally got to finishing it up!!! i wanted this one to be coated with sweetness and everything in between!!! i haven't written eddie in a while so this was super duper fun and revisting his character took me back to my roots!!!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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slutforln4 · 10 days
Text
TWO PRIZES
🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader
🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed
🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol
🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.
The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.
Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.
You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.
That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?
You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.
Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.
You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.
“Hello?”
She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”
Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.
“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”
“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”
“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”
“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”
With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.
Well, not first ever.
You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.
Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.
It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.
You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.
The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”
Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.
If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.
You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.
“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.
“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.
Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.
After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”
You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.
This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.
You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.
“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”
“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”
The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.
“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”
Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.
“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”
“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.
It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.
Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”
“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.
“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.
After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.
“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”
Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.
“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”
“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”
You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”
Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”
“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“
“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”
You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.
“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.
He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”
And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.
“Thanks, mate.”
Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.
His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.
When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.
You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”
“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”
“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”
“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“
“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”
“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.
Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.
The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.
It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.
You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”
The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.
Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.
Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.
“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”
His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.
“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.
You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.
After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.
You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.
“It’s you.”
Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.
You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”
“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.
You nodded. “Every day since that night.”
Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”
A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”
“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”
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visionsofmagic · 8 months
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day 13: clark kent [aftercare]
࿓ synopsis • after having a rough session with clark, you let him take care of your exhausted body.
―❦ nsfw, kissing, soft!clark, after a rough sex, f!reader, pet names, confessing, cleaning, washing, watching, fluff, i's all! • 0.6k • couldn't publish sooner, but, here we are at least. enjoy! [kinktober m.]
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"agh -" you say, moaning lowly, in pain that comes from your sensitive clit as clark's fingers travel on it, cleaning you under the warm water.
“oh, baby,” he says, fingers stop for a moment, eyes scanning your face; furrowed brows, lips are getting a bite, hands hold him from the neck and chest as a source of cure and stability at the same time. “you okay? I can go slower if you want.”
he proposes as you sit on his lap, hugging him, and negatively shaking your head while one of his strong arms holds you from back so that you stay still, warm water waving from time to time as you move in sync.
sitting on the clean bathtub, you let clark take care of you after one of your roughest sex – you can see all the redness on your body which he left intentionally yet acting so innocent when he sees them, fingers caressing your soft skin gently as if he wasn’t the one who fucked you in different positions, earning a pathetic state out of you, nearly making you use the safe word because of how good he was fucking you and how much you wanted it to end even though your actions told otherwise.
fear of fainting, you stopped when he got your fourth orgasm, then, cumming all over you as he cries in pleasure, confessing how you make him so weak that he loses mind whenever he has you beside him, under him, above him – in every way he can, he loves it, he loves you.
so it’s not a surprising thing when he picked you up from the messy bed after preparing the bathtub for you to wash and get clean, got into it, taking you into his arms, making you feel smaller yet quite peaceful, letting him do whatever he wants to do to get you cleaned up, ready to rest on the bed you are sharing with him beside you.
he said sorry over and over again until you said it was okay – that you enjoyed every bit of it because you missed him as much as he missed you.
fingers gripping your chin, he makes you look at his shining blue eyes – your own reflection on them. he smiles widely, fingers moving to your hair, caressing it gently, still having that precious expression on his face, looking like a greek god yet feeling so human – one of his kind, always.
“you have no idea how much I missed you,” he says, now taking warm water on his palm, then, cleaning your naked body within it – he seems to have guilt because of what he has done to you; biting marks as he claimed you shine brightly, red marks on your waist is visible due to holding you tightly as he shoved his cock into you, the neck has pink colors because how he held it, pushing your face onto the pillow so that you could moan as much as you wanted while he had you from behind.
all because of him.
he would never hurt you, he didn’t either, yet, he seems a bit sorry. however, you know he also has prideful feelings, so, you smile softly, resting your head on his wide shoulders, saying, “they all will heal, don’t feel sorry – it was so good that I can’t wait to get better and do all those things again.”
he chuckles, kissing your forehead, and then, your whole face, “then get better soon because there are lots of things that I want to do to you, my prettiest girl.” with that, he kisses you one more time. he cleans you, drying you with the softest towel, changes the sheets, and puts you on the fresh bed, taking his side beside you – hugging you, he watches how peaceful your face looks, smiling down at you, and sleeping as he has you close enough to himself – he knows he should leave soon enough yet being with you seems as the right thing to do. he missed you so much after all – the world can wait a bit longer.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 5 months
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Agent Peña
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Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.
Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)
A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪
This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!
“Are you sure this is the last box?” 
“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”
“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 
You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 
You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 
“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 
“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 
“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 
“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 
“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 
“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 
“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 
“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 
“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 
“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 
“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 
“Osita…”   
“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 
“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 
“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 
“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 
“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 
Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 
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Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.
 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 
You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.
You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 
It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 
With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 
You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.
You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 
Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 
And holy fuck did he look hot. 
Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 
While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 
Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.
Holy fuck.
You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 
You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 
“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.
He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.
“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 
“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 
“Hermosa, are you okay?” 
“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.
But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 
Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 
“What’s going on, baby?” 
With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 
“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 
“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 
“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 
“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 
Oh, fuck me. 
“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 
“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 
“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 
“Like, right now?” 
“Like, right now.” 
Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 
“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.
As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 
“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 
“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 
“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 
You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 
“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 
“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 
“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 
“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  
“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  
“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 
In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 
You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 
Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 
It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 
“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 
It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 
“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 
That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 
“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 
“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 
You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 
“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 
Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 
“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 
You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 
“You still okay, Osita?” 
“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 
“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 
“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 
“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.
He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 
You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 
Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 
The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 
Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 
“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 
“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 
“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 
Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 
“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 
“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 
“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 
“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 
The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 
“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 
“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 
“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 
“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 
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Taglist:
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shaisuki · 28 days
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SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ
𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦
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FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER
content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.
synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.
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“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”
that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.
he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.
“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.
“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.
you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.
everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.
your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.
he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.
he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.
“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.
michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.
he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.
“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.
sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.
“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.
the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.
building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.
all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.
a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.
“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”
sugar pills.
sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.
michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.
as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.
it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.
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Karma's a B*tch (Carlos Sainz Jr. x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 709
Carlos Sainz Jr. finds himself at the mercy of his Gen Z girlfriend, Y/N, who loves to play pranks on him.
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Carlos had just returned home from cycling, his hair still damp and his knees feeling like jelly. He walked into their cozy apartment in Monaco, the familiar scent of home instantly putting him at ease. The apartment was warmly lit, with soft golden lights casting a serene glow over the modern furnishings. The windows were open, allowing a gentle evening breeze to waft through, bringing with it the faint scent of the nearby Mediterranean Sea.
He spotted Y/N lounging on the couch in the living room, sipping an Aperol Spritz. She was comfortably nestled among plush cushions, her feet propped up on the coffee table. She looked up and smiled at him, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes that he missed.
“Hey, bella,” Carlos greeted, dropping his gear bag by the door and kicking off his shoes . “How's your evening going?”
Y/N took another sip of her drink and set the glass down, her expression shifting to one of feigned seriousness. “Carlos, I need to tell you something.”
His brow furrowed as he walked over, sitting beside her. “What is it? Did something happen?”
She took a deep breath, her tone grave. “I was a bad girl, I did some bad things. I swear I did it all for fun and it meant nothing.”
Carlos blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. “Eh? What are you talking about?”
Y/N continued, her face a perfect mask of sincerity. “I was a wild child, you always knew it. It was a matter of time before I blew it.”
Carlos's eyes widened, panic starting to set in. “Wait, what? What exactly happened? Why are you telling me this just now?”
She put a hand to her chest, looking remorseful. “Thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat. Thou shall not get caught or you'll end up just like me.”
Carlos's mouth fell open, his mind spiraling. “Y/N, this doesn't make any sense! What did you do? Are you in trouble?”
She sighed dramatically, her expression serious. “Karma's a bitch, I should've known better.”
Carlos got up and started pacing, his voice rising with anxiety. “Karma? Are the police involved? Do we need a lawyer? Talk to me, mi amor!”
Y/N struggled to keep a straight face but soldiered on, her acting impeccable. “Carlos, please. I didn’t think it through. It was just... a matter of time.”
Carlos's panic escalated. “A matter of time for what? Are we being blackmailed? Did you run over someone?”
Finally, Y/N couldn't hold back any longer. She burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly spilling her drink. “Carlos, mi querido, I'm pranking you! It's the lyrics to a Jojo Siwa song. It's trending right now.”
Carlos froze, his face a mix of relief and bewilderment. “Wait, what?”
Y/N was doubled over, tears streaming down her face. “Your face! I can't believe you fell for it!”
Carlos let out a deep sigh, finally laughing along. “I thought you had done something terrible! Jojo Siwa? Who even is that?”
Y/N wiped away her tears, still giggling. “You were ready to call a lawyer! I couldn't have asked for a better reaction.”
Carlos shook his head, still chuckling. “I can't believe I didn't catch on sooner. But seriously, you had me so worried.”
Y/N grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Just keeping you on your toes. You need to know these things to stay hip, you know?”
Carlos wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “I'm an old man, Y/N. I can't keep up with you and all the Gen Z trends.”
Y/N smirked, raising her glass in a mock toast. “To keeping you young and entertained, then. Here's to many more pranks.”
Carlos laughed, clinking his imaginary glass with hers. “Just go easy on me next time, okay? I don’t think my heart can take much more of this.”
Y/N snuggled into his side, her laughter subsiding into contented smiles. “Deal. But no promises.”
Carlos sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And you love me for it,” she replied, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.
He smiled down at her, feeling the warmth of her laughter still lingering in the air. “Yes, yes I do.”
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atlabeth · 25 days
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(not so) simple finale - anthony bridgerton
masterlist
summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.
a/n: so um ignore how long every part of this took to come out. i have no excuse. anyways we are finally here at the end!! almost 10k words of proper regency soap opera type shit and it all ends happily i promise. i hope u enjoy because damn this was supposed to be a short one shot and ended up being over 40k lmao
wc: 9k
warning(s): angst, reader is a lil insecure, slightly steamy make out scene, happy ending<333
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You’d never been this restless before. 
Your dreams had a part to play in it. They insisted on tormenting you, though not in the usual way. 
No, these dreams would have been pleasant had they come any sooner. For Anthony Bridgerton appeared in near every single one, with his charming smile and soft eyes and hair you always desired to run your fingers through. 
He would smile at you, offer his arm and walk with you all around the park and the city as you talked for hours. He would compliment you, and you would compliment him, and he would court you as a perfect gentleman would. 
He would kiss you, ravenously so. His hands would touch you where no one had touched before, leaving trails of fire in their wake, would unearth feelings you never could have imagined. He would revere you, near worship you, because in this world you never made such ill-advised choices. In this world, you never dragged him into a worthless scheme that ended with a ruined reputation and a broken heart.  
In this world, he loved you just as much as you loved him, and you never did a single thing to make him doubt that. 
But you were not there. 
You were here, in the real world. Where you were in the midst of reaping what you spent a whole season sowing. 
You were roused from that less than peaceful attempt at sleep—though thoughts of Anthony took longer to disappear—by the opening of your door, and despite your visitor attempting to be quiet, you found your eyes fluttering open against your will.
“Oh, dearest,” your mother lamented, “I did not mean to wake you. I apologize; I merely wanted to check on you. I will return later—please, rest.”
“No,” you murmured, and you rubbed your eyes as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Small movements were much easier, which at least meant a step in the right direction. “No, stay. Please.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. When you nodded, she closed the door lightly behind her and sat on your bedside, laying her hand over yours. 
She whispered your name, her voice already thick with tears that she was trying to hide. “I am so glad you are alright.” 
“You say that every time you come in here,” you said.
“And I will continue to say it.” She shook her head. “You nearly perished. You should consider yourself lucky I am not in here at all hours of the day.” 
You managed a smile, and she sighed. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” you said. “I am still sore, but much better.”
“Good,” she said. “All I can ask is that you continue to get better.” 
“The rest has certainly been nice,” you said. “Am I still a true lady despite my late wakings?” 
“You have always been a true lady,” your mother assured with a slight smile. 
“I believe you may be the only one that still thinks so.” 
“If you are feeling ready, there is a ball in a fortnight,” she said. “It could be a good way to garner good will again.” You gave her a look, and she held up her hands. “I understand how you feel, but your presence is important. There are… rumors floating about, and we must lay them to rest.” 
“Rumors,” you muttered wryly. “That your daughter is an ungrateful wench and will die a spinster?” 
She said your name sternly, and you shook your head. “I read what Whistledown wrote about me—she’s likely written a hundred more. I do not care what any of them think of me, Mother. I am only sorry for the pain it has caused you and Father, and the Bridgertons.” 
“The Bridgerton name is strong enough to weather scandal,” she said. “We have to work a bit harder. And making an appearance in society again, especially with Lord Cardew by your side, will help.” 
You suppressed a scoff at the mere thought of him. You’d been granted such a reprieve from Lord Cardew because of Anthony’s influence, and while you were recovering, no one but family was to see you. But soon—very soon—he would be your entire life. 
“That brings up another question,” your mother said wryly, and when you met her eyes she was giving you a very pointed look. “Are you still sure about this?” 
No, you wanted to say. You couldn’t be less sure about Jonathan Cardew. But you’d dragged your family into this mess of yours, so it was your duty to fix it. 
Plenty of women married much more dreadful men every year. You should have considered yourself lucky that a man of his breeding, of his standing was interested in you at all—especially after the season you’d spent distancing yourself from him and the scandal you’d caused. 
“...Yes,” you finally said. “I am sure.”
Your mother sighed and said your name. “You are sure? You have not reached out to Anth—” 
“There is nothing left between us,” you interrupted. “I know it is not the best situation, and I know it is my fault, but I am making the best of it. All I ask is that you support me. It is hard enough attempting to make my way through this world—I need my mother to be there for me rather than constantly pushing against it all.”
“...Of course,” she said quietly. “And I am so sorry that I have ever done differently. My dear, all I ask in return is that you understand me, as well as the decisions I make. All I want is the best for you, and I know that marriage is not what you desire, but there are things we must do.” 
“Of course,” you said, and your echoing words spurned a small smile from her. “I am sorry that I have always fought you so much. All I could see was my hatred for any kind of union, but all I managed was hurting you and Father, as well as myself, and— and I cannot think of any apology that will be enough.” You shook your head with a mirthless laugh. “I’ve no idea how you put up with me for so long, truly.” 
“I’ve never had to put up with you,” she said. “I realize I may not have done the best job at showing it, but— but I love you more than anything in this world. Everything I have ever done has been for you, my darling. You are the future of our name, and I know you will do an excellent job at carrying on our legacy.” 
“Truly?” you asked softly. 
Your mother nodded as she took your hands and smiled at you. “Truly. Nothing in this world can change my love for you. You are our greatest accomplishment.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat as you smiled as well, and you pulled your mother into a hug. She reciprocated, and tears filled your eyes. You’d missed the comfort of her presence so dearly. 
“I love you too,” you whispered. 
-
“Are you alright, my lady?” 
Your lady’s maid's words snapped you out of the stupor you’d found yourself in, and it was all you could do to attempt a smile. 
“Yes, Julia,” you said. “Quite alright.” 
Her brows furrowed as she draped a pendant around your neck, the cold metal turning your exhale slightly shaky. “Pardon my plainness, my lady, but you are not believable in the slightest.” 
“You have been around me for far too long,” you said dryly. “I request another maid, one that cannot read me so easily.” 
Julia offered a wry smile. “You are stuck with me for now, my lady. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?” 
You stared yourself in the mirror as you turned the question over. It was not as easy to answer as it should have been, not when everything was so out of order. Not when you hardly recognized the reflection staring back at you, wrapped in orange silk and adorned in jewels courtesy of Lord Cardew. 
You were not yourself—you were to be Baron Jonathan Cardew’s wife, a baroness and status symbol to hang off his arm and smile prettily, and Baroness Cardew was who stared back at you. 
Only a few more balls remained until the season came to an end, and though Lord Cardew was doing your family an immense service by giving you a second chance, he did not want to wait much longer to make it official. 
It was all planned out. Your relationship would truly enter the public eye tonight with your dances, you would promenade in open parks to have as many eyes on you as possible. He would call on you and your meager staff would be encouraged to spread rumors. Another ball would pass together, enough to hopefully weather some of the scandal you’d created, and then…
Then, he would propose. 
You would accept. 
And the fate you’d been so intent on avoiding would be sealed. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the impending tears. 
“I am nervous,” you admitted. “My decision didn’t exactly feel… real. Not until I was standing at the modiste getting fitted for this gown with one of Cardew’s maids. And all this jewelry…” Your fingers trailed across the raised designs on the pendant. “It makes it even more so.” 
“I can only imagine,” Julia said. “He has certainly put in effort.” 
“And yet it all feels hollow.” You moved away from the mirror and stopped in front of your vanity. The light blue reticule sitting near your jewelry box felt as if it was mocking you. 
Julia said your name with a sigh. “You made your choice. You pushed him away.” 
“I know,” you murmured, tracing the embroidery with your finger. “But feelings do not disappear so quickly.” 
“He wrote letters,” she said. “After you moved from Bridgerton House to recover here, after I refused his calling on you for the hundredth time, he wrote letters and delivered them by hand.” 
You picked at a loose strand of white thread on the purse, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might crack. 
“He told me he did not care if you didn’t want them,” Julia continued softly. “He just needed you to know how he felt.” 
“This is how it has to be,” you finally said, voice shaking. 
“And what makes you think that?” Julia challenged. “You believe you have to live a life of misery simply because half the ton does so in the name of reputation and riches?” 
“Two things I no longer have any of,” you murmured. “Cardew’s pedigree is enough to get both back for my family. It is my duty, Jules, and I can no longer hide from it.” 
Your lady’s maid looked at you with desperation in her eyes when there was a knock on the door followed by your mother calling your name. You nodded your permission and she opened it.
“Lady Worthing,” she said, curtsying just so to your mother. “I’ve finished getting her ready—I’ll give the two of you some time alone.” 
“Thank you, Julia,” your mother said with a smile. She turned back to you, her eyes softer than ever as she moved forward and set her hands on your shoulders. 
“My darling,” she said, “you look so beautiful. I did not lie when I called you the crown jewel of our family.” 
You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Thank you, Mother. I’m glad I can make you proud.” 
She murmured your name, turning you so you faced the mirror. You saw yourself more this time, feeling more assured with your mother standing behind you holding all the stars in her eyes. 
“I have always been proud of you, darling,” she murmured. “Even if I did not show it in the best way. I love you more than words can express. I meant it when I said you are our greatest achievement.” 
You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against her. She allowed you to sink into her and you felt the tears brimming in your eyes. 
“...I’m afraid, Mother,” you whispered. “To marry. To be a wife.” 
She was silent for a moment, busying herself with adjusting your jewelry before she spoke.
“I was afraid too,” she admitted. “I hardly knew your father outside of a few promenades, and one lovely bouquet of flowers. It was almost fully arranged by our parents. But when he proposed, he vowed to always be my friend, and to always take care of me.” 
“Has he?” you asked. 
“Yes,” she said. “We did not love each other on our wedding day. But he has always been kind to me, and he has always advocated for me, and we have always been there for each other. We love each other now, in our own way. And,” she smiled, smoothing down the lace on your sleeves, “together, we brought you into the world. I would do it all over again if it meant I would get you in the end.” 
You could not imagine considering Lord Cardew a friend, nor the opposite. He saw you as just another pretty jewel to adorn himself with. 
Anthony saw you as a friend— as more. He always listened to what you had to say, always entertained your jokes with some of us own, never talked down on you. He saw you as an equal. 
 “I do not know if any woman is prepared to marry,” she finally said. “Even those that marry for love still have initial doubts. There are so many expectations of our behavior when we are told so little of what we must actually do.” 
“How do you do it?” you asked. “You married a man you didn’t know. You raised a child. You held face against a society that shamed you for only having a daughter.” 
“All you can do is trust in yourself, and in those around you,” she said. “If you are with the right person, everything will feel as natural as breathing. You will not care what anything thinks of you, because there is only one opinion that matters.” 
There was one man you felt natural around, one who you felt you could speak your mind around and not be judged. One man that you’d fallen in love with, that surely hated you in return for what you’d done to him. 
Your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What should I do, Mother?” 
“You know what you must do,” she said softly. “All I can do is support you.” 
-
You’d rubbed your palms on your dress at least fifteen times since you’d arrived. A fruitless effort, considering you were wearing gloves, but you could not stand still. 
Your conversation with Lord Cardew had taken everything out of you, your dance with him even more so—an especially damning fate seemed ahead of you. But you could tune him out well enough, at least. 
It was an entirely different deal when the Bridgertons showed up. 
Violet walked in arm and arm with Anthony and Benedict, and Colin had a loose hold on Eloise. And to make matters worse, Daphne Bridgerton, alongside her husband the Duke of Hastings, were making an appearance. What an honor, to have the chance to embarrass yourself in front of such highly ranking nobles. 
Eloise branched off immediately after they passed the threshold, much to the protests of her mother, but your mother immediately pulled you in their direction. You could only imagine her thoughts—if she could get the Duke of Hastings touting for the Worthings, that would make things much easier.  
Anything for the optics, you supposed. But when you met Anthony’s eyes for the first time, you had to avert your gaze. He just looked so damn sad. 
“It is good to see you again, Violet,” your mother said. “And it is an honor, Duke and Duchess Hastings.” The both of you curtsied, and you could see the Duke’s slight smile. 
“I consider it my honor to meet the woman who has been the center of such conversation this season,” he said. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and thankfully Violet stepped in. 
“It is good to see you as well, Cecilia.” Violet smiled as she looked at you. “Especially you, my dear.” 
You bowed your head. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, Duke Hastings. I am grateful to be here.” 
Benedict smiled, the notion warmer than anything you deserved. “You look lovely, Miss Worthing. Especially for someone who escaped death with such recency.”
Anthony’s eyes remained on you the entire time, and more than anything you wished you could read this mind. The man probably hated you, and he had every right to do so. You just wished your feelings for him weren’t so insurmountable. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled as believably as you could. “Thank you, Mister Bridgerton. You also look well.”
Your mother nudged your shoulder and your gaze met Anthony’s once more. He still hadn’t looked away from you. 
You bowed your head once more. “Lord Bridgerton. It… is good to see you.”
No wonder you actually ended up falling in love with Anthony. It was the only way anyone could believe this ruse—you were quite an awful actress. 
Anthony lowered his head as well, his poise stiff. “A pleasure, Miss Worthing.”
“We’re glad to see you’re doing well,” Violet said, her smile a bit thin. You could only imagine the conversation that would occur between her and your mother later. “You caused us all quite a scare.”
“Oh, Anthony was so worried,” Daphne said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m thankful we have the chance to attend this ball so I could see you in person.” 
“I’ve recovered well,” you nodded, and you looked at Violet. “My family and I thank you immensely for your kindness and your doctor’s care. We’ll be in your debt endlessly.”
“There is no need for that,” Violet said. “It is enough that you are still here.”
Your cheeks burned but you tried to smile anyways. You wanted to burrow into a hole and never come out. It seemed the Bridgertons were capable of endless grace in public when they surely had to despise you. 
“Eloise has run off somewhere over near the strings,” Benedict provided in the silence. “I’m sure she would appreciate your companionship tonight.”
You glanced at your mother and she nodded, and your smile at Benedict was much more genuine. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to talk with her.” 
You mouthed thank you to him when your mother could not see, and he nodded. He’d always been so decent to you. 
You could not help but glance at Anthony as you went, and his gaze followed you. He would resent you if he had any sense, but it seemed the opposite—the sadness in his eyes was fatal.
You took a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table when you passed it, needing something to do with your hands. You found your way to Eloise’s side soon enough, and her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.
“It is so good to see you,” she breathed. “I’ve only just arrived, and I’ve already had to fend off suitors. They just cannot seem to understand I hold such little care for them.” 
“I am just as glad to see you,” you admitted. “I do not think I can get through this night alone.” 
“I cannot imagine why,” Eloise said sarcastically. “I’ve heard the news. And I must say, it is your poorest decision this season.”
Your laugh was mostly out of surprise, and you nearly dropped the flute of lemonade you were holding. You were on edge far more than you expected—you almost wished your glass was full of champagne. 
“At least somebody is speaking plainly,” you murmured, your gaze distant and unfocused. “I think the rest of your family must hate me, but they’re all too kind to say it.” 
Eloise frowned. “Why would any of them hate you?” 
Your grip tightened on your glass. “Because I caused an immense scandal and then ended things with Anthony?”
She huffed a laugh, her eyebrows now rising. “Our family has weathered many a scandal, and we are still here. Or have you forgotten how Daphne’s dearest husband chose to court her?”  
“That is different,” you insisted. 
“I think it is worse, actually,” Eloise said plainly. “Simon is a duke, and Anthony nearly killed him before Daphne knocked some sense into him.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Truly, it was a disaster. We Bridgertons have a knack for them.” 
“As do I,” you said with a loose laugh. “I was stabbed, Eloise. I nearly died in your brother’s arms.” 
“And we nearly died in our drawing room,” she said. “Anthony, most of all. He cares for you immensely.” 
“Surely he cannot,” you insisted. “Not after what I’ve done.” 
“I am not blind,” Eloise said, “and neither are you. So do not demerit our intelligence and pretend as if you do not see it.” 
“I— I know.” You wrapped your arms around your midsection, and you grimaced as the jewelry on your wrists brushed against your skin. You were covered head to toe in finery that didn’t belong to you, and you itched from the inside out. “But I don’t know where to go from here.” 
“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Eloise looked across the room, where Lord Cardew stood talking to your mother, and then over at her brother, who couldn’t have been less interested in the lady trying to strike up conversation with him. Then her gaze fell to you. “You’ve got a choice to make.” 
“I’ve already ruined things,” you murmured. “I— I can’t just back out of this.”
“I can tell you that you certainly haven’t ruined things with my brother. And Lady Whistledown’s speculation is the only thing binding you to that lecher.” Eloise shrugged. “You’ve already broken off one courtship. What’s another?”
Your eyes met Anthony’s from across the room. Once again, he’d already been looking at you. You averted your gaze quickly, feeling the heat rush to your face, and you tried to steady your breathing. He had no right to still have such an effect on you. 
“I need some air,” you murmured. “Will you—”
“Of course,” Eloise said. “You are simply touching things up in the powder room.”
You nodded your thanks and slipped out of the ballroom, finally able to drop the facade you’d been trying to uphold. You truly felt as if you were overheating, and the cool air was hardly of aid once you reached the outdoors.
Everything was all wrong—your dress, this damned tiara, the bracelets and the necklaces and every jewel that Cardew thought he could buy you with. 
It all belonged to him. You would not be another prize on his shelf. 
You couldn’t help yourself. You began to shed the jewelry as your pace sped up, ripping bangles from your wrists and pendants from your neck—by the time you reached a deserted area of the gardens, you were considerably lighter and considerably close to tears. 
You let out a frustrated sob as you slammed your fists against some artistic stone structure. It earned you nothing but pain, but it grounded you in some strange way. You tore off your gloves and threw them to the ground, a shaky breath escaping you as you screwed your eyes shut and  pressed your palms to your forehead. 
You could not marry traditionally, you could not follow through with your feelings for Anthony, and now you could not follow through with this ill-advised plan. 
Were you truly this useless? To bring ruin to two families with your knack for destroying things for it all to amount to nothing? You waxed poetic about the life you thought you deserved to live, about going to university and gaining your independence and never marrying, and yet here you were, near tears in the gardens of the ball you were meant to reenter society at. 
“Miss Worthing.”
The whispered words blared through the silence, and you knew who it was without having to turn around. It still sent a shock through you, your breathing faltering for a moment. Your eyes stayed shut. 
“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice watery. 
“You do not know me if you think there is anywhere else I would be,” he said. 
“How did you find me?”
“I followed the trail of jewels. You’ve left an awfully expensive path in your wake.”
“All of it is worthless,” you mumbled, finally letting your hands drop. “It all belongs to Lord Cardew.”
“You’ll have made a magpie very happy.” 
“Enough with the jokes,” you said. “Why are you here?” 
“Why do you think?” Anthony asked with a slight laugh. 
“I do not know,” you responded. “That is why I asked.” 
“I am here because I want to talk to you,” he said. “You cannot just avoid me for the rest of the season.”
You turned away. “I can try.”
“I will not let you,” Anthony enunciated. “I will not let you make the biggest mistake of your life because you believe it is your duty.”
“If you are here to change my mind, you are wasting your time,” you said stiffly. 
“I don’t believe I have to do anything,” Anthony said. “It looks as if you’ve come to the conclusion yourself.” 
“And what makes you think that?”
“You have not even glanced in Cardew’s direction this entire night,” he said. “You’ve been looking at me instead.” 
“Because I have felt your eyes on me with every moment.” 
Anthony huffed. “Can you blame me? This is the first time I have seen you since that night.” 
“Then you should remember my words from that night,” you bit out. 
“Why are you so intent on pushing me away?” Anthony begged. 
You scoffed. “Why are you so intent on bothering me?”
“Because I cannot stand here and watch you marry another!” he exclaimed.
Your brows furrowed and you turned around. Anthony stood in front of you, his outfit impeccable but not at all looking put together. Desperation colored his eyes, and you saw how truly undone he’d become. 
“I— I thought I could, but I cannot.” He shook his head, a muscle working in his jaw as he glanced away. “Every moment you are in the vicinity of that man is a test of my strength. And I do not know how strong I am.” 
“I don’t understand,” you said hollowly. “You should hate me.” 
“I could never hate you,” Anthony murmured. “I thought I could, when you first told me of your plans, but— but I could hardly even dislike you.” A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “My mother had been bothering me for nearly a decade to find a wife and settle down, but I thought love was a fool’s game. I would have my fun as a bachelor, and then settle down with the most advantageous match. There was no need for further emotional baggage—when you love, you can lose. And I refused to lose again.” 
For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. He lost his father, he nearly lost you, and then you pushed him away like he meant nothing. 
“Anthony—” you whispered, but he shook his head. 
“Please,” he said. “I have a lot to say.” 
You nodded, and he did as well. 
“Our deal was perfect for that. You were nothing but my sister’s nuisance of a friend—a bad influence that I could never see as more.” You could not help your soft laugh, and Anthony’s smile turned a bit more genuine. 
“But then we spent more time together. I… truly began to know you.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You shattered every preconception I had of you. I began to look forward to our meetings, to our promenades—I would get home from calling on you and could think only of the next time I would see you.” 
“Throughout it all, you made me realize I was worthy of love,” he said. “You— you made me realize that I wanted it. That I wanted you.” His throat bobbed, and you could see his eyes glistening. “That I loved you.” 
You could hardly find the strength to speak. You felt as if you could melt into a puddle at his feet just from his words. You were so intent on avoiding Anthony because you couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him anymore— you believed he would be better off without you, without the scandal you’d dragged him into. 
But he… he loved you. 
He loved you just as you loved him. 
“I do not expect you to share any of my notions, and I know you value your freedom more than anything,” Anthony murmured. “So if it is not me you wish to be with, I understand, and I will accept it without complaint. I just beg of you—do not become that wretched man’s wife.” 
All you could do was stare at him for a moment more, words beyond your reach before you finally managed to speak through your emotions. 
“I tried to tell myself the exact same thing,” you said softly. “That you could not be happy with me. That I could never be happy chained to another—truly, that I could never love. Not when freedom is what I have always desired most. But Anthony…” you moved forward until you were mere centimeters apart, unable to suppress the shiver that ran through you at the proximity, “I have never felt more free than when I am with you.” 
“Miss—” Anthony started, but he paused and shook his head before saying your first name instead. His eyes were softer than anything. “Are you truly…?” 
“I could never fathom you sharing my feelings,” you said thickly. “That is why I pushed you away. But I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I think I have loved you for quite some time.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, turning away so as to not betray the fullness of your emotions, and though you opened your mouth to provide some excuse, you were not granted the chance. 
Anthony’s hand encircled your wrist, pulling you back around, and just as soon did you feel his lips against yours. The tightness in your chest dissolved almost immediately as you all but fell into him, Anthony wrapping his arms around you to support you as your hands found purchase on anything they could. 
Your focus became devoted solely to the feeling of him, his soft lips against yours even as they plied for access. Anthony held you as if his only desire were to protect you from the world, and it made you feel a way you’d never even imagined. Only when air became a necessity did he pull away, his labored breaths in contrast to the pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Never in a thousand years did I think you would feel the same,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face on either side as he gazed into your eyes. “I thought myself a fool, falling for the one woman I could not have. You’ve no idea the relief it brings to hear you share my feelings.”
“I suppose I am just as foolish as you,” you breathed. Your heart felt as if it could burst. 
The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile. “I cannot imagine what my mother would think—that after so long spent searching for a wife, I fell for the one woman who never wanted the title.” 
You let out an airy laugh, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours. “Nor did I see myself falling for the one man who resented the chains of marriage as much as I.” 
Anthony pressed his lips against yours once more, and your hands traveled up until they tangled in his hair. You kissed until you were nearly breathless, but Anthony still managed to pull a very unladylike sound out of you as he bowed his head, kissing down the line of your jaw, your neck, until his teeth nipped your skin just above your decolletage.
“Anthony,” you gasped, clenching your fingers as they buried themselves further into his dark locks. You had never been this close with a man before, never this intimate — you never thought you would even desire it. 
But Anthony lit a fire inside of you that only he could quench, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was stoke it further. It was equally maddening and dizzying, the control he so effortlessly had over you. 
“I never knew how much I would delight in hearing you say my name,” he murmured, his lips trailing against your skin. “No more Lord Bridgerton, I beg of you.”
“I should think I’d like to hear you beg—” you breathed, but Anthony cut you off yet again as he pulled you into another searing kiss. You could hardly stand it anymore as your hands fell down to his shoulders, and you pulled away for just a moment as you began desperately undoing his waistcoat, Anthony taking the hint and removing his jacket. 
“These buttons were not designed with the needs of a lady in mind,” you huffed in frustration, fumbling fingers failing to make progress, and Anthony chuckled breathlessly.
“Have we finally found something I best you in?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.
“Just take it off.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”
You groaned as you looked at him. “If you insist on teasing me this way, Lord Bridgerton, I shall go back inside and act as if nothing has happened.”
“There is no need for idle threats,” he defended, and you bit back your smile. Anthony made deft work of his waistcoat, and the second he tossed it aside he was back on you. 
“Besides,” his voice was a whisper a millimeter from your ear, and warmth blazed in your core, “I believe I told you to call me Anthony.”
“And I believe you should have to try harder than that.” You smiled into his kiss as you trailed your nails down his back, the thin fabric of his dress shirt doing little as you felt his involuntary shiver. 
“You’ve no idea the effect you have on me,” he groaned, once again dipping his head as he peppered even more kisses down your neck, sliding down the sleeve of your dress to allow himself better access. 
The night air on your newly freed skin did little for you, any coolness of the breeze instantly negated by the heat of Anthony against you. Your nails dug into his back as he moved down, each spot where his lips touched your skin erupting with fire. 
You gasped out his name, barely able to handle it—the feeling was so foreign yet familiar, as if you had been waiting all your life for Anthony in this way. 
You could hardly believe you nearly lost it of your own accord. 
“It appears I do not have to try hard at all,” he said, “the way you cry out for me.” 
You laughed breathlessly, though his words were indeed true. You knew, in this moment, that you would do anything for Anthony Bridgerton—and he would do anything for you. “How I fell for a man as irritating as you, I haven’t the slightest.” 
You caught the slightest glimpse of his grin before he ducked his head yet again, and he had only just begun pushing both sleeves of your dress down when a woman’s voice could be heard behind you. 
“Anthony— oh!” 
The unfamiliar voice struck fear into your heart you had never felt the likes of before. Anthony moved away from you quicker than you’d ever seen, you just as hasty as you tugged the sleeves of your dress back to where they belonged and attempted to smooth out everything that Anthony had so easily sullied. 
You’d never imagined this was how your reputation would be ruined, with Anthony Bridgerton in the gardens of some ball, but when you finally had the sense to look and see who had caught you in a most uncompromising position, you could hardly stifle your incredulous laugh. 
��Sister?” Anthony questioned in disbelief, so many emotions warring on his face you had to turn away to cover up your growing grin. 
“Anthony,” Daphne greeted in kind, fighting to conceal her smile as her eyes drifted to you. “Miss Worthing.” 
“Your Grace!” Your shaky fingers were hardly of use to you as you pulled your gloves back up to where they belonged and once again ran your hands down the skirt of your dress to smooth out the wrinkles. Your cheeks burned under her gaze and you were innately aware of the fire underneath your skin brought about by Anthony’s touch in contrast to the cool night air. “What brings you here?” 
“Mother was quite… nervous about tonight,” she explained. “She indulged in one too many glasses of champagne, so she is taking her leave with Benedict for aid. She requested I find you to alert you of her departure, but it seems she was not the one whose disappearance should have been questioned.” 
“I’m sure you know this is quite compromising.” Thinly veiled amusement crossed Daphne’s face as she eyed you pointedly. “I am afraid you must marry him at once Miss Worthing, else I shall have to duel you to protect my brother’s honor.” 
You laughed breathlessly as Anthony looked up at the sky, his face turning a deeper shade of red than you had ever seen. “Your Grace, are you suggesting that I have ruined him?” 
“Indeed I am,” she confirmed, and you could see how it took every muscle of her being to retain a serious image. “This is not a light matter, miss. I do not understand why you are laughing.” 
“Daphne,” Anthony groaned, avoiding her eyes as he occupied himself with his jacket. “Why do you insist on being a nuisance?” 
“Anthony,” she inflected his name the same way he did hers, “I cannot have this woman sullying your name! I know it was of no will of your own, but this can not stand as is. But do not worry; I am prepared to defend your honor to my last breath.” 
“My sincerest apologies for what I have done, Duchess Hastings,” you responded gravely. “I am prepared for pistols at dawn.” 
Anthony huffed as he buttoned his waistcoat back up then went to retrieve his jacket from the bushes. “You exaggerate, the both of you. This cannot be what I was like last season.” 
“You were worse, brother. But do not worry,” Daphne said with a grin, “I should think a taste of your own practices is only fair after all you put Simon and me through.”
Anthony sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “I… suppose… that it is what I deserve.” 
“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I only wish we had a witness just so your confession is forever remembered.”
“I wish Mother had not sent you to seek me out,” he responded dryly. 
You and Daphne exchanged smiles with each other before your expression sobered slightly. “ I ask quite a bit of you with this, Your Grace, but… may I count on your discretion? I know we jest, but my reputation truly could not handle something like this. I do not know if…” you glanced at Anthony before looking back to her, “if we are yet ready to seal our union.” 
“Of course,” Daphne nodded, and a relieved smile tugged at your lips. “I shall not tell a soul.” 
“Thank you eternally, Your Grace,” you expressed, but at your short curtsy she shook her head.
“Please, call me Daphne.” She offered a smile of her own, slightly coy. “After what I have just witnessed, I’ve no doubt you will be joining our family soon enough.” 
“Sister!” Anthony scolded, and when you glanced at him his entire face was dusted pink, even the tips of his ears. It was enough to make you swoon. “You cannot just say things whenever you see fit.” 
Daphne merely shrugged, joyfully indifferent to her brother’s protests. “I outrank you now, dearest brother — I believe I can say whatever I see fit, particularly when it is the truth.”
“You are truly impossible,” Anthony muttered as he shook his head. 
Daphne just smiled before she looked back at you. “I believe it best if the two of you leave at separate times, so as to not allow room for any rumors. Miss Worthing, you should go first and return to your mother; you can claim you simply needed fresh air. Anthony and I will stroll around the grounds for a bit before allowing ourselves to be seen — we are simply catching up after such a stretch spent at Clyvedon.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smoothed your mussed hair and wrinkled dress for the last time. Anthony certainly did a number on you, in more ways than one. “Thank you again, Your—” you caught yourself, correcting your error with a small smile, “Daphne. 
“You may count on me in the future whenever I am in London,” she reassured. “It is my hope anyway that I shall be able to welcome you to the family officially.”
“Daphne!” Anthony exclaimed yet again, glaring at her. “Might you take your leave so we may have a moment alone?” 
“I believe you just had quite a few moments alone,” Daphne said, but a pointed look from her brother had her conceding with a smile. “Alright. I will be by the trees when you need me.” 
Anthony turned to you with an odd look in his eyes when Daphne was out of hearing distance, and when he did eventually speak, his voice was far softer than usual. 
“Do you truly believe I would not marry you?” he asked, and the underlying hurt in his voice did not go unnoticed. “Even if there were not the risk of a scandal, I would not hesitate. My entire heart lies with you.”
“It is not you, Anthony,” you sighed with a slight shake of your head. “I do not… I do not know if I am even capable of marriage.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean?” 
“I have spent my entire life running from it,” you said, chuckling softly, “and yet, here I am, the one thing I never thought I would be.”
“In love,” Anthony realized, and you nodded. 
“It has always been easy enough to denounce marriage when I’d never experienced anything of the like. The union of my parents was for convenience rather than love, and for as long as I’ve been alive my mother has tried to drill it into my head that my feelings did not matter — so long as the man had the means to provide for me and was not completely awful, he was satisfactory.”
“A future like that— it was so completely absurd to me that denouncing it all was the easiest thing in the world. And then I nearly died and my entire world changed, and I decided that Cardew was the best option to allow myself to completely separate emotion from marriage, but now…” you looked at Anthony, feeling more vulnerable now than ever. “I have found a love in you I’ve never thought possible, and I cannot stop imagining a life with you. And that terrifies me more than anything.” 
“But…” you trailed off again and you turned away from him as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “But I do not know how to approach my future, especially one where we are so closely intertwined.” 
Silence hung in the air for a noticeable period before Anthony cleared his throat, and it was obvious the care he put into his words. 
“You know I never imagined I would marry for love. Truly, I never intended it—I expected to be miserable in marriage. I saw it as nothing more than another duty to take care of. I believed that love was trivial, a ridiculous distraction. You are the one who made me see differently.” 
You turned around with slightly wide eyes, your arms wrapped around your midsection doing little to ward off the cool night air that seemed far colder than it was before. Anthony’s gaze never left yours, the softness in his own at odds with the pure, unbridled passion. 
“I love you. Though I have only just allowed myself to accept the fact, you are someone that I cannot imagine living the rest of my days without. There was…” his throat bobbed as his voice crackled slightly, “there was a moment when I feared the worst, that you would permanently disappear from my life. And ever since you were all but brought back from the dead, I have known that you are the only woman I wish to be with. It is why as soon as I left you, I asked my mother for this.” 
Anthony took a box out of his pocket, and you gasped as he got down on one knee, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. 
“This is the ring my father proposed to my mother with, and their love was beyond anything I have seen before. But it is the love that I feel for you, something so strong, so overwhelming— something I never thought I would experience. And yet here I am, madly in love with the one woman who scorned me with every word, and only pursued me because of my brand as a lesser evil.” 
A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound slightly muffled through your gloves, and you could not help it as your eyes began to fill with tears. 
“I admire you; all of you. The part that loves her family with every part of her being, that looks out for those with less than her when those more fortunate turn a blind eye. The part that fights for the rights of her sex when it is so much easier to just bow one’s head, that puts her happiness on a rightful pedestal— the part that is so terrified to share herself with others and yet deserves a love of the purest form.”
“And I am aware of how the unknown is a fear of yours, as it is one of mine. But I assure you—” Anthony’s voice was filled with such passion, his eyes with such love, that you could hardly stand it, “—I will be there for you every step of the way. We will face our fears as one, and we will shape the future ourselves, not to be bound by anyone or anything.” 
“I do not know where my future will lead me, but I know I do not want to face a single second of it without you. If you do not feel the same, I understand, but I will not be able to live with myself if I do not at least try. It is why I ask you,” Anthony said your name with more love than ever before, “will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you sobbed, a smile breaking across your face even as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks. “Yes, yes, I will marry you!”
Anthony let out a sigh of relief as he grinned, and after he slid the ring on your finger he stood up and pulled you into a breathless kiss. Nothing picture perfect like you’d heard about as a young girl, the kind of effortless gentleman’s act— Anthony kissed you with pure passion, love, desire, and it nearly brought you to your knees. You thought it would have, were it not for Anthony’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you against him and supporting you. 
You could hardly believe the same man who treated you as if you were glass after your injury was the one standing before you now, the one who handled you in such a way that could get the both of you exiled were anyone to see—the one that you thought hated you.  
And you were more than willing to allow it to continue, to surrender yourself fully to your baser instincts, when you remembered something that made your eyes widen.
“Your sister,” you murmured between kisses until you finally managed to pull away, albeit reluctantly. “Daphne is still waiting.”
Anthony laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back in, and your earlier protest was shown to be completely nonsensical. “Let her wait.” 
You grinned as he peppered kisses down your neck, enjoying the sensation until you pushed him away. “Anthony.” 
He groaned. “Why must you be a better person than I?”
“Believe when I say it pains me,” you said. “But the last thing we need is yet another scandal by my hand.” 
“Let them know,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Let all of London know that I love you, that we will be wed. I do not care what we have to face so long as we face it together.” 
“The thought has never been so tempting,” you murmured. “But you should at least alert your sister. It would be improper to make her wait out here all night for nothing.” 
His grip tightened on your hands. “So you do wish to leave together?” 
“Anthony, I just accepted your proposal,” you said with a laugh. “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together.” 
“I believe tonight is a good place to start, then,” he grinned. 
Anthony would not let you leave his side, so you went to Daphne together. First she saw your smile, then her gaze drifted down to your hand—she looked knowingly at her brother, though she could not hide her smile either. 
“It would appear as if I was right,” she mused. “I am always right when it comes to you though, Anthony, so it is not much of a surprise.” 
“Do not mock me,” Anthony said. “I could have left you waiting by the bushes all night.” 
“If you had not proposed to her after the conversation we had the other day, I would have questioned your sense,” Daphne said. “Trust me, I would not have been here long.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “What conversation?” 
“We do not need to start on this,” he said with a pointed look at his sister. “I have already bared my entire soul tonight. I do not need my sister embarrassing me further.” 
“Oh, I would never,” Daphne drawled. “After all, there will be plenty of time for us to gossip together when I come to visit you all.” 
“Won’t you be busy with your child?” Anthony asked. 
She shrugged. “You may be busy with one as well by the time I see you again.” 
You looked at Anthony only to find his gaze was already on you. There must have been some shred of doubt in your eyes, because he only took your hand in his. 
“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “We will take things as slowly as you desire.” 
You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and nodded as you squeezed his hands—you knew what was expected of you as a wife, and you wanted it with Anthony, but you could not lie and say that his reassurances did not bring you relief. 
“My best wishes to the new Viscountess Bridgerton,” Daphne said, her voice full of affection as she clasped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you join our family.” 
“It is an honor to be accepted,” you said, bowing your head. 
Daphne smiled. “I assume you want to reveal this on your own terms.” 
You nodded. “I’ve dealt with enough attention from the ton lately.” 
“I am afraid to say that will not go away,” she said wryly. “But I will cover for the two of you.” 
You pressed a hand to your chest. “Thank you.” 
“It is only proper to welcome my sister in such a way,” she said with a wink, and you could not help but smile. “Now run along, you two. Before rumors start.” 
Anthony chuckled, and the two of them embraced before you started on your way.
“Viscountess Bridgerton,” Anthony murmured in your ear. “I love the sound of that.” 
You hummed in agreement. “As do I.” 
You laid your head on Anthony’s shoulder as you walked back with your hands intertwined—not to the ball, but to a carriage for the promise of time alone. You glanced over at Anthony and he smiled, and you pulled him to a stop as you pressed a kiss to his lips. He responded with hunger, the same vigor he displayed when you first stepped into the gardens together, and you could hardly believe he still had it left in him. 
Far too many minutes passed as you kissed and kissed and kissed, not a single care in the world of someone catching you. What could they do? You’d already endured enough scandal to weather anything, and there was no way to punish you and Anthony — you were already engaged. 
Your lips were sure to be bruised once you finally pulled away, Anthony gazing at you with complete adoration as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I cannot believe you are to be my wife,” he murmured. 
“I cannot believe you are to be my husband,” you breathed. “When will we reveal it?” 
“Tomorrow,” he said, intertwining your hands with his own. “Tomorrow, we will tell everyone, and we will deal with everything that comes along with it. But tonight…” 
“It is our secret.”
Anthony nodded. “Tonight, we start the rest of our lives together.” 
“The rest of our lives together,” you murmured. 
Truly, it sounded like a dream. Months ago you could not even consider the thought of marriage without an air of disgust—now, here with Anthony, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were to be his wife. 
The rest of your life with Anthony would be anything but simple.
And yet, somehow, you could not think of anything more perfect.
-
taglist, only bc this series has been going on since i still had a taglist lmao. @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart @seninjakitey @vlodi @arianagrandes-things @preciousbabypeter @youraliendaddo @stupidlittlebei @illuminwtesz @eringaitskill @otheliesstuff @users09 @chloepluto1306 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @m-rae23 @the-horror-and-the-wild-simp @diemdurantia @theyoungestchild0w0 @mschievousx @alwaysreading1019 @ibelieveindragons141 @pretzywetzy
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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i think that last fic you wrote for me is my new favorite thing to reread on here! could i request a pt two where they’re all just having a chill day/ night and then they all get ready for bed together and lay down for cuddles plz? the way you write for poly!marauders is just so perfect! tysm again for reading my requests!! -🌶️
Awww that makes me so happy, I'm so glad you liked it! And of course you can my love <3
poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 981 words
Though James typically prefers you with no clothes on, he does think you look pretty cute in his big t-shirt. He bunches the fabric in his hands as he comes up behind you, setting his head on your shoulder. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask, smiling at him through a mouthful of toothpaste. 
He gazes at you in the mirror. “Just admiring the view.” 
“Oi,” Sirius elbows him, hands wet with whatever product in his billion-step skincare routine he’s currently rubbing into his face. His hair is scraped back into a bun to keep it out of the way. (James loves it when he wears it like that.) “Quit stealing my lines, Potter.” 
James doesn’t even need to speak; he knows the best way to rile Sirius right now doesn’t involve words. He grabs his dark-haired boyfriend by the chin, landing a smacker right on his cheek. 
Sirius shouts just as James pulls back, grimacing. 
“Fuck, Pads, what’s in that shit?” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, getting rid of any remaining product from Sirius’ face. “Have you poisoned me?”
“Serves you right,” Sirius shoots back. “Everyone else knows better than to mess with my routine. I hope you are poisoned for contaminating my skin like that.” 
James looks about for support, but you only roll your eyes, spitting into the sink. 
“Don’t wish poisoning upon people, love,” Remus says mildly from the bedroom, and it’s not much, but James seizes upon it. He sends Sirius a triumphant look. 
“I only wanted kisses, Moons,” he whines, padding into the bedroom and laying himself pitifully across Remus’ lap. “You get it, don’t you?”
Remus smiles, bending to press his lips to James’. “Merlin, Sirius,” he says teasingly, “you really don’t know what you’re missing.” 
James chases him for more, propping himself up on his elbow and keeping Remus close with a hand at the nape of his neck. 
It doesn’t take long before Sirius is rushing out, his skincare routine apparently finished for the night as he chases you into the bedroom. James and Remus both stop to watch the spectacle as he grabs you around the waist, dipping you low and kissing you passionately. You make a sound of muffled surprise against his lips, breaking away after a second. 
“Sirius!” You laugh, flustered. “You cannot just attack me because you’re jealous! I won’t be a pawn in your game.” 
Sirius puts on a show of hurt, straightening you but keeping his hands steadfastly around your waist. “You’re not a pawn, baby. You’re the best piece on the board.” 
You let out a loud, barking laugh at that, extricating yourself from his hold. “That’s really awful,” you tell him, stepping backwards towards the bed. “If you think James is stealing your lines, you need to come up with some better material.” 
Sirius’ mouth drops open, and James snickers. 
You sit down on the bed and launch into your nightly routine of demolishing your joints, twisting around to coax painful-sounding cracking noises from your back, and Remus moves away from James to begin his nightly routine of trying to foil you, taking your shoulders in his hands before you can rotate your spine in the other direction. 
“Quit that,” he says, looking at you severely. 
You nod, but no sooner does Remus remove his hands from you than you’re contorting your back again, eliciting a series of popping noises that makes James wonder whether you might’ve broken something. 
Remus shakes his head at you, disappointed but not necessarily surprised. “I’m going to kill you,” he promises.
You grin. “You’re all talk.” 
You’re nearly as bad as Sirius when you get like this, but Remus knows just how to handle you, wrestling you flat onto the bed and laying down atop you. He toys with your hair lazily, a little smirk tugging at his lips. 
“Are you ready to wind down?” he asks you placidly. 
You’re laughing, squirming feebly underneath his weight, and James can’t help but chuckle, grabbing one of your hands by the wrist when you try to pinch at Remus’ side. 
“Traitor,” you say to him. 
“I take no sides,” he replies easily. “Sorry, angel.”
“Darling,” Remus hums lazily, getting your attention again. “Are you ready to go to sleep?” 
You roll your eyes and sigh greatly, but nod. Remus doesn’t let you off that easily this time, though, passing you immediately to Sirius, who tugs you tight to his front, your nose squishing into his cheek as he peppers your face with kisses. 
“Oh, I see,” James says, getting into the opposite side of the bed. “So they can touch your face, but I can’t, huh?” 
“Anyone can, once the product has dried,” Sirius says cooly, settling down with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. “Your mistake was jumping the gun, Potter.” 
“Can we be done with this?” you ask. “Remus is tired.” 
“Don’t use him as your scapegoat,” Sirius says, but peers over you to see Remus anyway, a tiny bit of worry in the squint of his eyes. “You’re not tired, are you Moons?”
“Only the normal amount,” Remus says, eyes already closed. 
James coos, touching his lips to the high point of Remus’ cheekbone, just beside a jagged scar. 
“Poor boy, we’re tormenting him,” he says lightly, and Sirius rolls his eyes but quiets down. 
For a good, long while, it’s silent. James watches the light in the room change as cars drive past, their headlights filtering through the curtains. The breathing around him becomes slower, more even. His own body relaxes into the mattress, eyelids drooping as he starts to give into that sweet, soft heaviness that waits just past the threshold of sleep. 
He hears a quiet rustling of sheets, and then a loud cracking sound comes from your side of the bed. 
A low voice. “Don’t make me come over there.”
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satrs · 8 months
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You Perv!
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; the jjk guys as different kind of pervs.
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; various jjk men x fem!reader
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 0.6k ish
TAGS; NSFW/DARK CONTENT! MDNI. pervy guys(kinda creep). non-con pictures taken.panty sniffing. masturbation(male). risk of getting caught. mention of creampie. nicknames(dirty girl).
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!
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THINKIN' BOUT YOU!
He always had that deep desire for you, one so deep, lingering at the back of his head at all times, almost impossible to tame. But he couldn't tell you, scared of what your answer might be.
He just can't help it. If he doesn't have the courage to tell you about his feelings and desires for you, he had to find some other way to feed into his eagerness for you.
This became like a daily routine, after he saw you and managed to get some sneaky picture of you in any position that he could put his mind into, he bid you a quick goodbye before hurrying home, swiftly stripping out of his pants, laying in bed with his aching dick in hand.
His hand stroked up and down his length as he pleasured himself, barely able to focus on the pixels in front of him as he felt himself nearing his release, the phone finally falling from his hold as his hand tightened around his shaft, imagining it being your tender fingers instead of his rough ones.
Not long after, spurts of cum covered his hand and stomach. While he tried to get his ragged breathing in control, he already went back on his phone, dialing your number to arrange a new hang-out, ready to snap more sneak peaks of you.
Yuuta. Nanami.
PANTY SNIFFER!
It just started off as an innocent offer from his side, driving you to that one party you really wanted to go to.
"Hey. I'm not done now, but you can come in. Just wait a minute and make yourself at home, yeah?" He returned a soft smile and nodded at your giggle, slouching himself on your bed as he felt the soft fabric beneath his hands and your scent embracing him.
'Make yourself at home', you said, so you surely wouldn't mind him taking a peak in your opened drawer, right? His thoughts got the better of him as he sneaked to the shelf, breath halting as he saw what was laying inside.
"I'm sorry it'll take me some more time! I can't get this eyeliner right." Your loud voice echoed through the door, his neck craning into your direction. Suits him. His fingers rummaged inside the drawer until he came across a daring pair of panties, face relaxing as he put it to his nose, inhaling your scent.
This is what led up to this point, him on your bed with your panty wrapped around his cock, muffling his moans by biting down hard on his lips, almost drawing blood.
"Give me a minute, almost done!" His movements speed up at the sound of your voice, his sickening thoughts taking over him as your unsuspecting voice only feed into his pleasure.
Quick, quick. Gotta be quick.
Choso. SATORU. Suguru.
WISH BECOMES REALITY!
He’d always dream about this, you on top of him, tits bouncing into his face at every movement of your hips, your angelic moans filling his ears.
But it was all just a dream, a dark and secret fantasy of his that would never become reality. You were just out of reach for him, too high for someone like him.
Oh boy was he wrong.
"Oh fuck." His head threw back in pleasure at the movement of your hips, needily rocking up and down on him, as the room filled with your sinful sounds of pleasure. He almost couldn't believe it. If only he had known that you longed for this almost as long as he did - he would've done this sooner.
If it was for him, he would take off that annoying condom right now, eager to see his cum leaking out of your puffy folds, just like he always imagined it. "Bet you wanted this for so long. What a dirty girl."
But there is no way that he does not feel addressed himself, because he knew that he desired and fantasized about this moment for almost eternity, his boring jack off sessions now coming to an end since he finally got a taste of you.
TOJI. Sukuna. Hiromi. Suguru(again).
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©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
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sacharinee · 1 year
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pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader
sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions
wc: 1200+
a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)
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peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything. 
now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for. 
“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open. 
his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.
however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.
his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”
you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.
you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”
peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?” 
“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”
peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.” 
the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”
“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine. 
peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you. 
“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively 
 you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.” 
peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”
honk!
“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths. 
“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”
peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.
“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?” 
it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.
it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not. 
you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal. 
you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount. 
you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”
you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.
“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.
“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”
“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.
you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.
“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.” 
you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”
peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.
“you sound jealous.”
peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.
“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”
you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”
peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.
“there’s something you’re not telling me.”
hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.
except, he doesn’t.
the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you. 
“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.” 
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