#...... husband came into the room and started a conversation with me. he talked for like five mins and then
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rubiesintherough · 1 year ago
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thestuffedalligator · 10 months ago
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When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.
They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.
The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.
When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.
Then he saw the woman.
He froze. He stared. She stared back.
He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.
She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”
“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”
“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”
“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”
She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”
He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.
“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”
He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”
“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.
The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”
The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.
The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.
When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.
“What the hell,” said the vicomte.
“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”
“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”
The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.
“I had a moment of weakness.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”
“I got married.”
“And that’s another thing–”
“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”
The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.
“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”
The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”
The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”
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lqveharrington · 1 year ago
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Winter Gala | C.S.
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summary: Coriolanus’ first winter gala as Panem’s President and your first winter gala as First Lady.
pairing: young, president!coriolanus snow x fem, first lady!reader
includes: literally just fluff and kissing. (and some hints to reader being pregnant.)
a/n: some winter love for my favorite (aka coryo bb)
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“Don’t you look gorgeous, my First Lady.” Coriolanus wraps his arms around your waist as you clip your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror.
“You look pretty handsome yourself, Mr. President.” You turn in his arms and lace your own behind his neck, eyes flickering around his face. “First winter gala as the President, Coryo. That’s exciting.”
He lowers his arms down to your hips, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let’s give them a night to remember.”
You let one hand drift to his lips, wiping some of the lipstick off. “Perfect.”
Truly, everything in the Snow Manor was perfect. The help decorated the walls and halls with the lights you deemed the best, and the cooks made the most delicious foods for those to come eat. There were christmas trees present in almost every room, with waiters holding champagne glasses on silver platers. Coriolanus and yourself made sure everything was perfect for the first winter gala as President of Panem.
All of those who held status in the Capitol were invited, along with the past district mentors whom you both attended classes with. There was press inside and unwanted paparazzi outside, immediately becoming the talk of those who arrived to the manor.
As the Snow manor filled with distinguished guests, you were hooked around Coriolanus’ arm like a beautiful trophy, conversing with only those you wanted to.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, Livia.” You give her your best smile, removing yourself from your husband to give her a brief hug. “I’m sure Festus has been a pain, as usual.”
“Don’t say that.” She quietly laughed, giving her own husband a glance before looking at the manor in awe and grabbing two champagne glasses of a server’s plate. “Here.”
“Oh no, thank you.” You decline politely, folding your hands together.
“Suit yourself.” She placed one back onto another plater. “The place looks wonderful. The lighting is everything.”
“Thank you. I do love a—“
“Excuse me, ladies, but could I borrow my wife for a bit? It’s time for my speech.” Coriolanus cut in, sneaking an arm around your waist.
Livia nodded, gesturing toward you. “Of course.”
You give her one last smile before following Coriolanus. Sure, you wanted to converse with old classmates, but as the most popular couple in Panem, you had other duties to tend to.
“See Tigris yet?” You murmur in his direction as you ascend the stairs, Coriolanus’ hand placed on the small of your back.
He shook his head, “She didn’t show. She called and said she was busy with work.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping to speak to her about an important matter.” You frown and mumble the last bit, your ringed hand lightly moving to your stomach. “Anyway, you must mention how you were delighted to see everyone come here today.”
“Of course, I will. You think I don’t remember that, beautiful?” He kissed your cheek as you reached the balcony looking over the foyer. “Ready?”
“Always.” You lace hands with him.
Coriolanus instructed someone to shut the main lights off and flash the spot light on you both, earning awed noises from the crowd below.
“Thank you all for coming to our first winter gala!” Coriolanus started and got applause from those in the audience.
He went on to thanking everyone who came and spoke about his time as President, calling out those who helped him win the election.
“And of course, I would not have done this all with my lovely wife. Give it up for her, yeah?” He spoke, your name flawlessly living his lips. You flush from the praise but wave to the people below, squeezing Coriolanus’ hand.
“Want to say anything?” He murmured as the applause quieted. You shook your head, resting your hand on your stomach again.
Coriolanus kissed your cheek once more before wrapping up his speech, raising his glass as a final gesture. Everyone else followed suit, your own glass of water being lifted.
“Wonderful speech, my love.” You show your pearly whites as he whisked you away to a hallway.
“That’s because you wrote it, darling.” He met your lips, feeling your grin widen in the kiss.
You let one hand rest on his chest while the other comes around to his neck, Coriolanus’ hands firm on your waist.
“I love you.” You mumble in between kisses, holding your urge to not slide your fingers through his slicked back hair.
He squeezes your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “I love you more.”
read more about coriolanus here !!
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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xxblairexxss · 11 months ago
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Cookies!
Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader
Them : Angst, I think.
Word count : 2k
Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.
I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔
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Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.
But you did.
There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.
Some even called you lucky.
A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.
But there were still ups and downs.
The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.
“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.
Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.
And so did Aaralyn.
Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.
“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”
You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”
“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.
“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.
She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”
“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”
“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.
“What kind of powder?”
“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.
••
Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.
“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.
“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.
The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.
“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.
“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.
You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.
“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.
“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.
You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.
“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.
“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.
“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.
Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”
“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”
You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.
“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.
“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.
Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.
“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.
“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.
Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.
“Daddy…?”
“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.
“It’s me, Alyn!”
“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.
Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.
Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.
“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.
“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”
“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.
Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”
Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.
“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.
“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”
“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.
“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.
“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”
Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.
You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.
“Come, baby,”
Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”
Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”
“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.
“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”
**
Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.
3:02
Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.
It was empty. Untouched even.
“Honey?”
His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.
“Aaralyn. Honey?”
Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.
“Daddy’s
— Aarlyn ❤️”
••
You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.
As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.
Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.
“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.
“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.
“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.
“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”
“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.
“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.
“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.
“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”
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zephyrrr101 · 11 months ago
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Not like her
Pairing: Daemon x niece reader
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Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.
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You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.
Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.
Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.
They weren’t rumours.
It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.
You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.
Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.
“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.
You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”
Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”
“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”
Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.
You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.
No you did not.
You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.
He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.
You nod.
He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.
This was it.
Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.
Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.
Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.
“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.
“Skoros?” What?
Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.
“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.
“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”
“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”
“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”
Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.
“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”
Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.
I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.
And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.
No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.
He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.
“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.
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The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.
The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.
In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.
From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.
You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.
You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.
You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.
It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.
It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.
“Kepus?”
Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.
Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...
“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"
“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”
“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.
“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”
“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.
Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.
His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”
If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.
“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”
You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.
You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”
“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”
His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.
Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.
You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.
You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.
They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.
You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.
“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.
“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”
Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.
So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”
“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”
You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.
“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.
He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.
“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”
You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.
It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.
“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.
He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.
“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”
You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.
Not like her.
“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.
Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.
Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.
His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.
Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.
“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”
“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.
You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.
“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.
Our child.
“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”
“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.
“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”
“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”
It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.
You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.
You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.
“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.
You prayed it not to be a dream.
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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago
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I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.
TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*
So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)
Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.
"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."
"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"
"This time, I promise."
To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.
Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.
When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.
Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.
Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”
Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?
All the conversations came flooding back:
"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."
"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."
"You're beautiful, Ghost."
"You're enough."
"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.
Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.
His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.
Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"
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awritesthings1 · 11 months ago
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Good Taste
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife reader
Summary: You get made fun of for wearing your sapphire necklace to the foundation dinner. Tommy always finds a way to make things better.
Warnings: swearing, implied smut.
ao3 link
“She was making fun of me!”
“Yeah? And when has that ever bothered you before, my darling?”
“Since all the bloody country wives started debating whether my jewelry was in fashion or not, Tommy,” you huffed at your husband, who was having no luck pinching away the creases between his eyebrows.
Tommy sighed deeply, not really bothered to continue the conversation but irked because the wives down the lane had gotten under your skin, and if you were unhappy, then he was unhappy. He fueled his throbbing head with a cigarette, chain-smoking them back-to-back while he hunched over on the settee.
You were sitting at the vanity, fingers tangled hopelessly at the stubborn latch of your necklace that just wouldn’t let, when you saw how Tommy was beginning to fold in on himself. Guilt consumed you immediately. It wasn’t that you actually cared all that much about what people said, but when you were around Tommy, your guard slipped, and all the things that made you tick during the day would come cluttering out of your mouth like an unwanted clash of symbols and noise. Tommy would sit there and listen, hum, nod, and completely detach himself from the world.
You ran each other around like clockwork. He leaned back, you forward. Lust swelled in his eyes, concern in yours, a tug at your hip, and a gasp from your throat. You smiled sympathetically, apologetically. He kept quiet, forgivingly holding your gaze, until a defeated sigh broke the tension, and you both understood how silly the whole ordeal was. Here was Thomas Shelby, a man of great power, slumped against the settee, utterly exhausted.
“Darling, this is fucking Birmingham. Good taste is for people that can’t afford sapphires.”
That brought a smirk to your lips.
“Oh?” You muse, watching him through your vanity mirror.
Tommy huffs, but it’s more out of amusement than agitation. The cigarette between his lips twitches as a smile graces his face. He hums in affirmation.
You give up on trying to unlatch the sapphire necklace around your neck. You’re far too distracted by the way Tommy leans back on the settee like he knows it’s his damn right, spreading his legs, chain-smoking cigarettes, and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. He’s completely in the wrong if he thinks you are going to keep your hands tangled up in a necklace when they would be much more useful somewhere else…
When your chair screeches against the wood as you push it back to stand, his head snaps to attention. He has a faraway look to his eye, haunted even, but he swallows when you sink to your knees between his legs, and something else begins to swell other than his pupils.
You run your hands up his knees to his thighs and back again.
“I know it’s stupid. They just get under my skin sometimes,” you resign.
He clears his throat and reaches past your head to set his cigarette on the ash tray. He stays there, bent forward, a breath apart, and begins caressing your face with the back of his fingers. A faint smile softens his features and warms his skin.
You laugh because it really is ridiculous. For marrying someone who spends most of their life buried in their head, you sure have picked up on his tendencies.
“Do you think I’m becoming obsessed?”
He doesn’t even try to hide his amusement. “No.”
You were; he was just treading carefully. Because while he wandered off to speak to god knows who at the foundation dinner, your feathers were being ruffled by stuck-up old women who were too busy being stuck up to notice their husbands’ lingering eyes. However, being able to defend your vanity was another thing compared to dealing with Shelby Company Limited business. And if it came to surviving passive aggressive remarks from old women or being led into another room to talk with Mr. Thomas Shelby, head of the Peaky Blinders, you would sneer rudely at Margaret any day.
You voice the thought at Tommy, “I take it your night wasn’t as successful as mine?”
He exhales and raises his eyebrows playfully, more or less confirming your suspicions.
“And should I ask you about it like a good wife?”
He hums, “no.”
He’s so entranced in running his fingers up and down your jaw, around your chin, and thumbing your lips that you’ll just have to forgive him later.
You pull a face. You’re not mad at him. Far from it. Those fingers of his dancing across your face are your weakness.
“You’re not listening to me.” You lean in closer.
“Yes, I am,” he smiles.
You try to pull back in faux skepticism, but with his hand holding your face so close to his,
“Where are you going, eh?” Tommy leans forward to steal a kiss, and he feels your laughter against his lips, a pleasant sensation.
“Oh, Mr. Shelby,” you jest.
Together, you fall back onto the settee with you astride his lap. Your hair falls over his face like a curtain, keeping him safe from the outside world. He doesn’t want to move; no, he will stay here for the next couple of months, transfixed inside this moment. The gun tucked away in the holster beneath his arm feels less heavy, and the clock ticking above his head slows. He can breathe. He can gingerly stroke your jaw with his thumb in the way you adore. So he does, and the shuttering thoughts that occupy so much of his head stutter in fear because they know they come second to you.
Then there’s that pretty sapphire necklace hanging from your neck. The one that got you both in this position in the first place. Those fucking people, eh? Those fucking people with their fancy palaces and prim and proper manners judging you, his wife, refusing you, his wife? That got him going.
You can tell he is in his head by the way his eyes linger on your sapphire necklace. He looks irked.
“What’s wrong, Tommy?”
He shakes his head lazily.
“Speak to me, love,” you insist.
Fuck em. Fuck the bastards that made his wife feel unworthy. They wouldn’t know taste if it hit them like a fucking train. He won’t let them bring her down.
Tommy clears his throat. “I’m sorry for being in my head, Mrs. Shelby.”
His apology is soothed into your skin with a gentle brush of his thumb at the end of your chin. He tilts it down to lay a kiss on the corner of your mouth. He always knows how to make you smile.
You press more of your weight into him and deepen the kiss, to which he grunts. It stirs a honey warmth in your stomach.
As for Tommy, the need to be closer to you is suffocating; he’d rather just lock you both in this room and throw away the key. He’d rather the stifling walls close in on you both until he can’t even open his lungs, and even then, it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to be in your skin, in your thoughts, but most importantly, right now, in your underwear.
It’s your goddamn nails clawing at his scalp that do it for him. It winds him up like a fucking pocket watch, boils his blood like good whiskey, and fuels the fires.
He urges your name in warning because he’s so strung up he might just rip the seams of your pretty dress, and you make the mistake of swallowing his plea with a huff and a tangle of tongues.
“The necklace, Thomas,” you gasp.
It would really be a pity if he accidentally broke it in the rush to remove your dress. It slows him down momentarily removing it, and his fingers can’t quite function being away from your skin but he knows ever since he gifted it to you, there’s been nothing you loved more. When the latch finally unclasps, he parts from your lips to gently lower it to the coffee table where it remains unscathed for the rest of the night. The same couldn’t be said about your dress.
-
Taglist: (i was drunk when I posted this so I forgot to add it lol).
@maliceofwonderland @fairytale07 @goblinjnr @ilovepeoplesdads @multidimensionalslut @blogforficslol @elenavampire21
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emotionally-cuckolded · 5 months ago
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[Therapist -- directing her comments to the husband] OK. So I understand that the cuckolding is going quite well, and that your wife now is seeing one particular man quite regularly. That's good. Cuckolding shouldn't be only about the sex. Romance and emotional feelings are important too. But you've also said that there are times when you feel very hurt and rejected. Those feelings when a man is cuckolded are quite common. But remember -- this office is a safe space where it's best for you to be completely honesty about your feelings. So tell me about that.
[Cuck] Well -- it's a little hard to talk about, and humiliating, but I'll try. The thing is -- I understand why she cuckolds me. I get it. I really do. I know I didn't satisfy her sexually. So cuckolding has been a real marriage-saver and I'm really happy we came to see you when things weren't going well. And you warned me early on that there was a good chance that if my wife found a man who satisfied her sexual needs, that she would probably develop real romantic feelings for him. And that HAS happened obviously, and I've gotten used to being alone most weekend evenings and nights while she and her boyfriend are out as a couple socializing and spending the night together.
But -- and this is when things are hardest for me -- sometimes her boyfriend comes over to the house, and I have to sleep in the guest room. And even when they aren't being that romantic with each other, they make me feel like a third wheel -- they talk and laugh with each other and I'm left out of the conversations, and they sit with each other watching TV, and I'm like an outsider or the hired help in my own home and with my own wife, and yes, that makes me feel rejected and hurt. On those nights, I usually have to make and serve them dinner and do the dishes and bring them drinks or anything else they want while they are being affectionate with each other while watching TV, and I even have to make sure the upstairs bedroom is all ready for them.
I want her to have a relationship with him, because I know that's part of all of this. But I still can't get over the feelings of jealousy and rejection.
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[Wife] Sweetie. I understand why you would feel that way, because I really have begun to have strong feelings for him, and when he is at the house, HE is the one I want to be with, not you. Surely you can see how happy he and I are with each other. He's so funny, and smart, and just sitting on his lap kissing and petting while watching TV is really wonderful. And so you really ARE a third wheel at those times. And I guess I am rejecting you at those times -- sort of. But really, it's more that when I'm with him, I hardly think about you at all, except as someone who has a lot of chores to do. When he and I are together at home, your role is to do whatever we ask of you. I thought you understood that. I'm not trying to be mean or hurtful. I just need you to accept that my relationship with him takes priority when we're together. You can understand and accept that -- can't you?
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[Cuck] OK. Yes. I understand. I'm sorry. It's just that I love you so much. But I'll try to do better about being a good cuckold for you, including just stepping aside so you and he can have your time together. Do you forgive me for getting upset?
[Wife] Of course I do, hun. And I'm glad we've talked about this, because he and I were talking, and I think he's probably going to start spending a lot more evenings and nights at our house very soon.
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jaysng · 10 months ago
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🫐 - jake! maybe about reader having some hardships during her pregnancy but baby daddy jake would be ready to do anything for her comfort !!
rejecting his kisses | sjy
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pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader
genre: fluff bro what else i write 😭😭
synopsis: reader is growing sensitive day by day to touches and snaps at jake, jake being a mature husband handles the situation well.
everything felt so much more overwhelming, jake kept a family dinner and everyone was over, his members and his family. 
“how are my babies doing?” jake said as he nuzzled his nose in your neck as you moved back in annoyance. 
oh he noticed it but shrugged it off, maybe it was just a silly reaction right?
the sound of everyone talking at the same time in their own conversation rings around in your ears making it hard for you to keep up with everything jake had his hands on you the whole day, hugging you from behind, talking to his friends and family with a hand on your bump, rubbing your nose agaisnt his, kissing your cheeks, lips and forehead. yeah sounds cute but not when you’re feeling everything a little too much. 
what is going on. 
it was so bad that you had to shut your room door so loud and settle on the bed, 
there you were, pregnant and finally on your thrid trimester with your annoying husband being extra touchy anywhere he could find you at.
rubbing your temples you sat on the bed, grabbed the water from the beside table and starting chugging it down. 
meanwhile, jake who already spotted your absensce in the living room came in “bub?” you heard his voice and your brain gave a reaction not again. 
he walks in as you don’t even dare to look at him in the eye, your eyes closed as you take deep breath. 
“did i do something” he leans over to your face while staring deep “no..” u say as he hums in question he sits beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “are you oka-“ you cut him off,
“no- just no- please okay? please just get your hands off of me please jake. stay away from me i am not feeling all your touches just leave me the fuck alone.” you say raising your voice. 
the next thing you see is tears in jake’s eyes as he looks away from you trying to hold them in. 
“i am sorry.” 
a moment of complete silence goes by as you rest your head on the headboard.
you notice him avoiding your looks and turning to the other side, hesitant to ask you if you need anything again.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks out of curiosity “i won’t touch you if—“
“no i dont know.. i am sorry i dont feel like getting touched i dont know.. i don’t know why i am being like this i don’t know” as you’re saying he turns around and comes closer to you.
attentively listening as he brings a hand to tug your hair strand back.
“hey no no it’s fine, its completely fine yeah, this is super normal for pregnant women to feel..” he says as tears start spilling from your eyes because of how understanding he is. 
jake has always put your perspective before his, always understanding everything you did, always finding a reason for your actions and letting you express yourself, god you think what did you do to deserve him. 
“b-but jake” you say as he holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks trying to calm you down.
“at this stage you’ve grown more sensitive. to touches to words to noises to everything” he says bringing his hands back to himself, “isn’t it?” 
you nod in agreement as he adds “so don’t ever blame yourself about all this okay? i love you just how it is. nothing will ever change that” 
you look at him and take his hand and place it on your belly, he makes sure to keep it exactly where you kept and not rub it because of muscle memory 
he pauses and lets out a little laugh as he feels the baby kicking where his arm is placed “just try not to be as aggressive as you were okay?” you nod once again as he kisses your cheeks wiping your tears off his lips. 
“baby doesn’t like hearing mum and dad argue does it?” he says as he feels another kick to his palm as you both laugh out of surprise. 
it makes you giggle, mood swings are crazy.
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emmylksblog · 8 months ago
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THE WEDDING RING // H. FORT
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summary: reader lost her wedding ring and tries to hide it from her husband
contents: angst, comfort
warnings: my first time ever writing so be patient with grammar errors
a/n: idk if this is good but if you want part 2 tell me in the comments and if you like my writing feel free to request, i only write about hector fort and some barcelona players
You were sitting on the couch, looking through a pile of cushions and under the couch cushions, clearly stressed and worried. You quickly put everything back in place as you hear the front door open and your dear husband who you didn´t want to see now walks in, home from training.
"Love, I'm home!"
Trying to act casual you get up and greet him with a kiss on his cheek "Oh, hey! I didn't expect you home so early." You stand up quickly and try to hide the fact that you were just frantically looking for your wedding ring something.
Clearly, something was bothering her for her to be acting this way, he'd never seen her like this before and they had been living together for 2 years, he considered it a long time to know her well enough and to notice so easily her changes in mood.
Hector left his training bag on the couch and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I know you've been worried about something," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "You don't have to say anything yet, I'll wait till you're ready to talk about it."
You turned in his embrace and playfully mock-scrunches your nose at him. "Ugh, you smell terrible!" you exclaimed jokingly. "Did you roll around in mud after training or something?" Hector chuckled and feigned offense. "Hey, I'll have you know, this is the smell of a real man." He joked back. You smiled and pushed him playfully. "Well, this real man needs to go take a shower. I'll start making dinner."
As he left to shower, you went to the kitchen to start preparing the meal. You tried to keep your mind occupied, but the thought of the lost ring kept nagging at you. You knew you had to tell Hector, but you were worried about how he would react.
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Your husband walks back into the room, towel around his neck and hair still damp. He sits down at the table and watches as you quickly finish setting everything up.
As you turn around to join him, you immediately notice his damp hair and can't help but nag. "You should really dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold like this." Hector grins, clearly amused by your concern. "But I only like it when you dry it for me," he teases, reaching out to pinch your cheek.
You swat his hand away, giggling at his playful banter. "You're such a baby," you tease, "training must have gone well for you to be this cheeky."
Hector chuckled at your comment, knowing that you knew him too well. "It went pretty good," he said, "We did some endurance drills today and I managed to run a few miles faster than usual. The guys were in awe of my speed, as always." He said jokingly, flexing his muscles in a mocking display of pride.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, trying to bite back a smile. "Always bragging about how fast and strong you are."
They continued eating and the conversation slowly died down to a comfortable silence. Hector was oblivious to her inner turmoil, relishing the peace that came with the meal. She, on the other hand, was eating silently, lost in her own thoughts.
Occasionally, she would glance at her left hand, silently panicking over the missing ring on her finger. She wondered how Hector hadn't noticed yet, but his focus seemed to be on his food.
Hector casually asks her to pass him a napkin, and she does so without thinking, using her left hand since it's closer. As he takes the napkin, he subconsciously takes hold of her hand, his eyes darting to her ring finger. His smile fades as he realizes – her wedding ring is missing.
"Where's your ring?" he asks, his voice calm, yet tinged with confusion.
You quickly withdraw your hand from his, feeling the weight of guilt and nervousness. Trying to come up with an excuse, you mumble something about how you must have forgotten to put it on this morning. However, the excuse is flimsy and Hector immediately sees through it. "You never forget to put it on," he says, his expression serious now. "What's really going on?"
Hector's gaze is unwavering, the silence in the room nearly palpable. As you try to muster up the words to explain, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of the truth and the stress of the day finally catch up to you. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. You can't bring yourself to tell him you lost the ring, even though his gaze demands the truth.
Hector's tough exterior softens instantly as he sees you struggling to speak through your tears. He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you against him.
"Shhh..." he murmured, his voice gentle. "It's okay, I'm not mad, just tell me what happened."
You bury your face into his shoulder, your words coming out in a teary mumble. "I... I was searching for it before you came," you said, "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it. I'm so sorry... I'm such a horrible wife. You shouldn't have married someone like me..."
He holds you tighter, his embrace comforting and protective. "No, no," he whispered, "Don't say that. You're not a bad wife because you lost something, accidents happen."
He pulled back slightly, gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "I married you because I love you, for everything that you are. And a ring doesn´t define our love"
Hector softly kisses your forehead, holding you close against him. You remain like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gradually, your exhaustion catches up to you, and drift off to sleep in the embrace of your husband, your head resting on his chest.
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gojo-enthusiast · 28 days ago
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Love Me Anyways - Nanami Kento
masterlist !!
18 plus+ | NSFW | angst
The Kento Nanami you married when you were 20 and he was 26 was very different from the 24 year old you, and the 30 year old Kento. The affectionate, giving husband, turned into a cold, secluded, emotionless man. It had been 2 years since the attack in Shibuya, he was released from his duties, and retired from being a sorcerer. You thought after moving away, having your toes in the sand, and waking up to the sound of the water, maybe he would feel a sense of peace, but in reality, it only made him more anxious that he no longer lived a life of protecting the weak. You often would catch him outside on the porch, his weapon in hand, waiting, watching.
It had been 2 years since the last time you actually touched your husband, hugs, holding hands, kisses, and sex. You two were inseparable before, he would rock his hips into you every morning and night, like it was his last. Now he is a foot in front of you, and you weren’t even allowed to touch him, even the feather sweet caresses he craved day and night.
On one particular night you ran your fingers through his hair, as he was turned on his side, you had been doing that for as long as you could remember, it always helped him sleep, always made him feel a sense of safety, stability. The innocent gesture you made, next moment, your husband has his hands wrapped around your neck, breathing staggered, and the veins in his neck bulging. He had quickly realized it was you, and that he was no longer in Shibuya, that he was in the safety of his home in Malaysia, and his wife was not trying to strip him of the little bit of life he had left. 
But by the time he came to his senses, you were coughing, and next morning you had bruises around your neck. You were not surprised when the following day you saw bedroom furniture being delivered and set up in the second bedroom. After that day, Kento slept in another room, and locked the door anytime he entered that room. You both still did things as a married couple, like eating dinner, but now it was quiet conversations, and or watching a movie in silence. You often would catch your husband shirtless as he got out the shower, your heat aching at the sight… your thoughts running rapidly
“I want you to devour me… whole.” but he simply refused to get close to you, in fear that he just might hurt you like he did the night you ran your soft fingertips through his blonde locks.
There was nights your little toy that became your new husband, the purple vibrator in your night stand, would take you to a high, but never a high enough, not the way Kento Nanami took you in the past. Of course Nanami could hear your soft, pathetic moans, the little whimpers, and his name slipping off your tongue. It made him achingly hard, fisting himself in the other room, while listening to your moans. “Fuck.” Nanami would grunt, while releasing into his hand. He hated every bit of it, some nights his hand would grip the door knob, fighting the urge to go in your bedroom, and bring you to the high you were aching for. 
Until one day you broke down, and begged for him to at least try, try to make this marriage work, you understood his pain, but he also needed to understand yours. You had given up everything to be with him, you had cared for the broken man and now you needed to be cared for back. So Nanami vowed to do his best, and to open himself back to loving again, to become a better friend, lover to you. 
Despite you and your husband being married for 4 years, the time he spent in grief after Shibuya, you both had to find yourselves again, and find one another again. It started off with little dates on the beach, or at home, and eventually he pushed himself to go out into town at night time, since his burns aren’t as noticeable. He met your best friend and her husband, and got to enjoy moments where he sipped on his scotch, talking about sports, and watching his wife giggle to her best friend as your cheeks blushed pink from the third glass of red wine. 
“How are things going with you and the wife? Do you feel like you guys are getting closer?” Your friends husband asked Nanami. “I would like to say so.” He says, sipping on his scotch. “I couldn’t imagine not getting laid for as long as you did, glad you finally are.” That statement nearly had Nanami in a coughing fit. “Jeez—.” He coughs. “You good brother?.” He laughs. “Wait, have you two?” He asked again, pointing to you. “No— no we haven’t.” Nanami says, chugging on this scotch once again, and chuckling.
“Baby you ready to get going?” Nanami asked, you smiled gently at your husband, as you walked into the living room where both men had been sitting, watching TV. “Yeah, if you are.” You said cheerfully.
“I’ll drive baby.” You smile as you walk towards the car. Nanami hums at you in agreement, still opening your door. You stood at the drivers side door, and as you are about to get into the car, you feel your husband’s hand slap your ass casually. It was almost as if it was on instinct, your face burned red while Nanami shut the car door and slipped into the passenger seat. You blushed as you looked over at him, and his shirt had 3 buttons undone. “He hasn’t touched me like that in years.” you thought to yourself. 
You started your drive, trying to take your mind off of the fact your husband who had pushed you so far away, just slapped your ass, you felt your arousal sticking to your thighs. As you stare at the road ahead, you feel your husbands hand on your knee, rubbing circles, slowing grazing up to your thigh, “Ken!” You gasp. “Shhh.” He hushed you, his pupils dilated and clouded with lust. His brain and heart had finally became one, and decided that he no longer wanted to push you away, that he needed you more than ever. Putting his hand under your little flowy dress. Caressing your core through your panties. “Kento stop.” You moan out. Trying to squeeze your thighs so he would not tease you. This man hasn’t touched you in 2 years, your body is on fire, you are already close to an orgasm and he’s hardly done anything.
“You really want me to stop? You’re so wet though?” He whispered into your ear, lightly biting your earlobe, the look in his eyes was clouded with lust. Nanami was in a state of vulnerability, but the sweet taste of alcohol that was flowing through his veins, had him wanting to jump your bones. 
You pulled into the drive way, and within seconds, he was on the other side, peeling you out of the car. He was once a curse user after all.
“Nanami— hold on.” You groan, as he lifts you up into his arms. “I need you right now.” He groaned, as you wrapped your legs around his waist so naturally. You couldn’t remember when you last held your husband so closely. “The burns— do they scare you?” He whispered in your ear, as he walked up to the front door, pulling out his keys. You put both of your hands on each side of his face, kissing his burned eyelid, then his cheek, then his lips. “I could never be scared of you Kenny.” You smiled, as his lips attached to you again. “I’ve missed you more than life. You are my life.” He moaned into your mouth, as your core rubbed against his bulge. Finally the damn door opened, and he was already sprinting to the bedroom, it had you giggling on how determined he was to get you into bed.
“Slow down trackstar.” You giggled. “I can’t, this is for my life, my heart just might stop.” He groaned. He sat you on the bed, and in an instant, you pulled his slacks down, his cock springing out, you wrapped your soft hands around it, instantly having him in a moaning mess. He began to thrust into your hand, throwing his head back in pure ecstasy. “You feel good baby?” You asked as you kissed his hip bone that was partially burned. "Fuck- yes. I missed you my girl." He said in a grunt, as his fingers laced into your hair, pulling your head to look up at him. Something compelled you in that very moment, you attached your lips to the tip of his cock, and begin to take him into your mouth. "FUCK!" He barked. He gracefully thrusted his cock deeper into your mouth. His hips had a mind of their own, he was easily about to spill everything he had built up, deep into your throat. "S-so close." He pushed your head deeper, his cock caressing your throat. Tears pushed out of your eyes, and your core was dripping onto your panties. "Yes yes yes" Kento chanted, and with one final thrust and your tongue rolling over the tip of his cock, he spilled down your throat with a groan, as his head was thrown back, and his once gel hair, was now in his face. 
Your husband slipped from your mouth, looking at you with doe eyes, falling back into the mattress, his eyes closed and he had drifted to sleep. You knew he had struggled with sleeping for the last couple years, so as he drifted into a deep slumber, you pulled the blanket over him, and getting under those blankets, with your head on his chest, the side that had been badly burned. "I love you Kento." you smiled. Your core was not going to sizzle down anytime soon, but this was all too blissful, you enjoyed lying so close to him and hearing his soft snores. You didn't know when the next time you would get to experience this again. You eventually falling into a slumber, with your arms wrapped around him.
Kento's eyes fluttered open, the sky was hardly lit, the sun slowly peeking through the blind, it had to be 6am. He hummed as he stretched, he turned seeing your sleeping body holding onto him from his waist. His heart sank, the memories of last night had the tip of his ears, and cheeks a bright red. He didn't even take care of your needs, you graciously took care of him, while he thrusted his cock into your poor sweet mouth. The mere thought of it, had him aching all over again. His thoughts swarmed with memories of when he would spread your legs, and lap his tongue until you came 3 times. Despite the alcohol leaving his system hours prior, he felt a rush of confidence, he was in between your legs, spreading them apart, as you slept so innocently. He could smell the arousal from the night before, filling up his senses, he groaned. Looping his fingers in your panties, and pulling them down. He stared at your core, as you lied there peacefully. Opening your folds, he peered at your wet core, his cock was achingly hard, precum already dribbling out. He attached his lips to your clit immediately, sucking gently.
“Wake up.” He continued licking, then pushing his middle finger into your core. “Wake up baby.” He said again, his other hand squeezing your hips. “Ken?” You moaned questioning. “Hmm?” He said, continuing to thrust his digit into you, while lapping your clit. “Oh fuck.” You moaned, pushing your hips closer to his face. He was nose deep— he was groaning in pure pleasure from tasting you, “so sweet.” He said. Your hair was a mess from sleeping, and you felt your legs and core twitching. “So so good.” you moaned to him in your half daze sleepy voice. “Please don’t stop.” You added, forcing yourself to be coherent for this, you didn’t know when you would experience this again. 
“Never- never leaving this pretty pussy again.” He moaned into you, as he sucked your clit. You felt like that line in your stomach was about to snap, once he curled his fingers to rub the squishy spot you had always wished you could reach, you were cumming right on his tongue. “Fuck fuck!” You moan, arching your back. You felt his fingers slip out, and when you looked up, he was aligning his cock into your heat. “Relax for me.” He said in a pant, your essence all over his lips and chin. He wiped it on his hand, then licking it. “So fucking sweet.” He said as he pushed into your sopping wet core. “Ah!” You moaned loudly, feeling his thick cock push into you. “Yes yes yes.” You moaned over and over. He had pushed all of himself in, and threw his head back as your legs were wrapped around his waist. 
Thrusting quickly, he wanted to slow down, but this was years he had spent not feeling you, he simply couldn’t contain the animalistic hunger inside of him wanting to devour you. “Ken— baby, slow down.” You moan, "I can't hear a thing, I can't hear you." He moaned as he thrusted in a rush. "Baby. hold me." You whimpered as tears slipped out, the pleasure and pain was magnificent. You felt stretched to full capacity, you couldn't believe how long it had been. The chemistry came together so perfectly, he lifted you into his arms, as he thrusted up into you. "Amazing, you feel so amazing. Do you feel the way she is gripping around me? Do you see the way we are joined my love?" He groaned in your ear, before leaning back for you to see the way he was making love to you. "Look at the way I push into you, and the way you hold onto me." He grunted, looking deep into your eyes. "How could I spend so much time neglecting you, you are a creation made by God himself." He sucked and bit at your neck, and shoulders. You felt your second orgasm approaching, while he relentlessly thrusted up into you. You felt him lay down flatly, signaling for you to ride him. You began to bounce on his cock, the tiredness slipping out of you. This was your moment, this was everything you have been craving for years. "So close." you moaned out.
"we aren't even close to being done my dear." He nipped at your ear. And oh was he right, he took you to your high, then even higher than that. He turned you to face the mirror, as he thrusted back into you, placing his fingers on your swollen clit, rubbing achingly slow. "See how I fill you?" He asked you again. "Look how you swallow me." He bit at the side of your neck. You saw stars until it was noon, and you had fallen asleep. Your skin was sticky with his release, he found it unholy arousing to see you covered in his seed.
You awoke an hour later, feeling his cock still inside of you, but with no movement. "We need to eat." He said as he lifted you up, and slipped out of you. "mmm" you groaned at the feeling of the emptiness. He carried you into the kitchen, setting your bare ass down on the counter. "That's cold." You squealed. "mmm is it?" He hummed. He was bare in front of you, no clothes, eye patch somewhere in the car. You watched as his muscles tensed as he held the knife and cut up banana's and strawberries for you. He slipped some homemade croissants he had prepared the day before into the oven, as you ate the fruit he set beside you. "Kento?" You questioned softly, grazing your fingertips on his bicep. "Hm?" he hummed, as he pulled the freshly baked croissants out of the oven. 
"What’s going on in your head?" You tilted your head, he looked over at you, peering at your naked figure and legs crossed. "My head?" He said, as he walked over to you, spreading your thighs to stand in between them. He put his mouth around the banana slice your fingers were holding onto, sucking your finger tenderly, then chewing the piece of fruit. "My mind is swarming with how you taste sweeter than this banana." He said in the most sensual tone, you thought you could ever hear from such a button up man, but you had just simply forgotten how vulgar of a husband you married. 
"Nanami." You groaned as he attached his lips to your tender neck that was full of love bites. "I'm a starved man, I simply need more of you." He muttered into the crook of your neck. He reached behind him, grabbing the warm bread on the pan. "Eat." he said as he kissed your tender breast.
"Not right now." You moaned, "Eat or I’ll stop." he said, ripping off a piece of the flaky bread, placing it on your lips. You reluctantly opened your mouth, chewing slowly, as he attached his lips to your hardened nipple. “Ken, wait." You moaned, as he then ripped off another piece of the bread, slipping it into your mouth. "Please no more." You moaned, as you pushed your core closer to his stomach. "Please touch me." You moaned. "I will touch you, if you eat this." He said, lifting his head back to you, handing you the croissant. You had never devoured something so quick- he picked you up, turning you around so your breast were on the counter, and bent over. You felt his thick member poke at your entrance. “Ken- ahh." You moaned as he pushed himself into you so easily. "So wet for me." He said with a slap on your ass. "All for you." You said, as you moaned out. 
It was like this for 2 days, he had flipped your insides in and out, countless of times. If you had to guess, you were going to get a positive pregnancy test in the next month. You were exhausted and your body had finally given out, you awoke Monday morning, he had showered you while you were asleep, you were in a fresh set of his boxers and his t-shirt. You smelt bacon and something sweet seeping into the bedroom, you peeled your weak body out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. "Ken?" You called out, your voice hoarse. "In the kitchen." He responded lowly. "How are you feeling?" He said as you walked in. "I'm fine." You yawned. "Sit at the table, I'm about to be done." He smiled softly. You sat at the table, crossing your legs like a pretzel. He placed the breakfast in front of you, while kissing your forehead. 
"We should talk." He huffed out, as he sat down on the chair beside you. "Okay." You smiled at him, grabbing his hand.
You knew this conversation would be the most emotional one you probably would ever have with him, but with love and mutual understanding in both of your eyes, you knew you both were finally at peace.
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dorabellingham · 3 months ago
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Do you still love me?
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warning: none
characters: jude x reader
summary: where he is being extremely cold and distant with you, but you can't stand this situation anymore
request: yes!
may contain spelling and translation errors!
The last few weeks had been strange for you. Jude, usually affectionate and present, was cold and distant. He would come home late from training, eat dinner in silence, and spend more time on his phone than with you. At first, you thought he was just tired, but as the days went by, the feeling that something was wrong became unbearable. He no longer hugged you like before, his kisses were quick and devoid of emotion, and even the small gestures, like intertwining his fingers or smiling at you for no reason, had disappeared. You felt like a shadow inside your own house, and the pain of not knowing what was happening consumed you. On a particularly silent night, you sat on the couch while Jude was in the room. Your chest felt heavy, the lump in your throat threatening to spill over into the tears you had been holding back for days. But this time, you couldn't ignore the discomfort. Getting up, you went to the bedroom and stopped at the door. Jude was sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. He didn't even notice your presence.
—Jude....
You called, your voice firm but full of emotions.
He looked up, surprised, but quickly looked away, as if eye contact was something he couldn't sustain.
—What's wrong?
You walked into the room and closed the door behind you, crossing your arms.
—What's wrong? Jude, I should be the one asking this. What's going on with you? With us?
He frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.
—Babe, it's nothing. I'm just... dealing with things.
—What things, Jude Victor? You barely talk to me, barely look at me. I feel invisible inside our own home!
Your voice broke at the end, and you hated showing vulnerability, but you couldn't hold it in any longer.
Jude sighed, running a hand over his face.
—I didn't want you to feel this way. It's just... football, the pressure, the media... it's all suffocating me, Y/n. And I don’t want to burden you with this.
—So you decided to push me away? —You asked, your voice now calmer, but still full of pain. —Jude, I’m here for you. I always have been. But you shutting me out, treating me like I don’t matter, is far worse than any problem you’re facing alone.
He finally looked at you, and you saw something you hadn’t seen in days: regret.
Jude was silent for a moment, your words echoing in his mind. He knew he had done wrong. He was so lost in his own insecurities that he didn’t realize the impact his behavior had on the person he loved the most.
—You’re right... —He admitted, his voice low. —I was being an idiot. Not because I don’t love you, but because I didn’t know how to deal with all of this. And in the process, I ended up hurting you. I’m sorry, sweetie.
You crossed your arms, still hesitant.
—I need more than an apology, Jude. I need you to be honest with me. That you trust me, like I trust you.
He stood up and walked over to you, gently holding your hands.
—I know. And I’m going to do this. I never wanted you to feel this way, and I promise I’ll make up for every moment I made you doubt our love.
You looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears, but there was something in your expression that said you wanted to believe.
—It’s okay, babe. But please don’t do it again. I’m not as strong as you think I am.
He pulled you into a tight hug, his hand gently stroking your hair.
—You’re the strongest person I know, Y/n. And I’m going to earn your forgiveness.
The next day, Jude woke up earlier than you and started making a special breakfast. He made waffles, fruit, and even tried an omelet, although he burned it a little. When you came downstairs, still half asleep, you found the table carefully set and your husband waiting with a shy smile.
—That’s a start!
He said as you sat down, surprised.
Over the next few days, Jude made sure to show you how much you meant to him. He took you out to dinner, wrote you sweet notes that you found scattered around the house, and even taught you how to make her favorite dish. But most importantly, he began to open up more, sharing his anxieties and fears, showing you that he trusted you.
One night, as you lay together, he held your face and said:
—I promise I’ll never let you feel alone again. You’re the best part of my life, my love.
And in that moment, you knew that despite your flaws and mistakes, the love you shared was strong enough to overcome anything.
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ebsmind · 1 month ago
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My Little Treasure | president!Nico Hischier x fem!reader
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summary : being the presidents mistress isn’t easy. even when another woman comes out saying she’s having an affair with him.
word count : 8.5k (the longest ive ever written BE PROUD OF ME)
warning(s) : this is purely based off of shonda rhimes SCANDAL sjiwiejdj, angst, longing (kinda? idk), cheating/infidelity (nellie deserves better), reader pushes her feeling aside, timo being called nico’s personal bitch AHAHAHA, murder (mentioned in case), non accurate descriptions of politics and law stuff, like 2-3 mentions of vomit , use of Y/N (I tried not too but I just couldn't), tbh there’s not a lot of nico x reader IM SORRY part 2 will make up for it, heavy makeout session, smut kinda? idk but next part will be smutty TRUST, getting caught by timo (what the hell Timo), VIOLENCE aka just a slap in the face, one flashback spicy scene and i think that's it!
a/n : LISTEN LISTEN before i say ANYTHING i just wanted to say that i know nico isn’t american but im currently hyper fixated on him and only him and i just started watching scandal again SO I HAD TO so please if you don’t like the “accuracy” don’t read it! this is FICTIONAL but yeah here we are! this closely follows the first episode from season 1! this is a long oneeeee! i’ve also changed the names of Abby, Quinn, Harrison, Huck, AND Cyrus (you’ll see who I change him with 😏) I also go along with the case that’s happening so this is semi like a mystery but not? idk how to explain but you’ll see as you read. send me something in my inbox if you want me to elaborate on anything about the side characters! i definitely want to turn this into an au so send me something so i can write about it or talk about it! here’s the mood board! this is also my second time writing anything spicy so please bear with me, this whole fic idea really had me out of my comfort zone so it isn't my best writing but I still wanted to get this out!
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The clicks of your So Kate’s are heard throughout the law firm. Everyone knows it’s you, just by the way you walk. It’s swift and carries determination, you are on a mission. You present yourself with a sense of purpose to your colleagues. Scratch that, they’re family. Despite them technically being your coworkers, you would do anything for the four of them. From saving Gwen from her violent ex-husband to Kurt, a soldier who had served in the United States CIA’s top secret, off the books, B-613 program who ended up being dumped on the streets to beg for food, you saved them and they were all you had. 
You step into the standard-sized conference room, and the extensive window along the back wall displays an orange-to-blue hue. The sun is setting and making it known that the end of the day is near. You first make eye contact with Blair, the senior associate at the firm. She stops her conversation amongst everyone and before she can greet you, Kurt, who is sitting at the very right end of the table, utters, “Perla Schmitz killed herself, channel 5.” 
You make no time to strut to the table and grab the TV remote, which had been sitting next to Blair. You don’t need to change the channel once you press the power button on the remote, it’s all you watch in the firm—across the 55’ inch screen, displayed in bold lettering ‘Perla Schmitz (26) found dead in her home’. You take a second to yourself. Perla had been caught cheating on her husband, who was a very conservative congressman, but that wasn’t the icing on the cake. The guy she was having an affair with? He murdered her husband, brutally. 27 stab wounds to the chest, his head almost decapitated because of how much force was used to slit his throat. If someone were to ask you, you’d say she had it coming. 
You turn to the group and raise a finger in the air as you start to speak. “We knew this was coming, let’s not pretend that she wasn’t the one cheating on her husband.” 
Perla came into your office late last Friday night, around 11:25. You had stayed longer than you originally wanted to, needing to finish up some paperwork that had to be done for one of the previous clients you had. What a way to bring in the new year, but you weren’t complaining. 
“Exactly! I knew she didn’t have enough willpower to continue her life. She took the easy way out, man.” You take a seat at the left end side of the table, parallel to Kurt while Neil, another associate and close friend of yours finishes his veracious remark. You decide it’s best to tell Neil and everyone else to drop the topic, but before you can open your mouth, the firm doors open. The 7-foot ebony-colored wood doors reveal a man with black hair and blue eyes, maybe mid to late 20s. The first thing you notice is how his eyes tear up before he speaks, not how he’s covered in blood. 
“I-…I didn’t kill her I swear! She was my best friend, we were gonna get married!” 
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Your irises scan over the pinned evidence on the whiteboard, it had been approximately 18 hours since the 6’2 blood blood-covered man had walked into your firm. Sully St. James comes from an extremely well-respected family. His father was a Veteran from the Vietnam War. Sully himself had done two tours in Iraq and received the Medal of Honor. Having someone as well respected as him, show up to the front door of your firm, asking for help wasn’t new but you were determined to help the man not get convicted as the killer in his girlfriend’s murder case. You needed time, but the US attorney general David Rosen was stubborn. 
“Okay! So, according to Sully, he had just come home from the bar down on 9th St, called SOST, he then walked into the bathroom where the crime scene is, saw Paige’s body on the ground,” Blair points out and before she can finish her sentence Kurt cuts her off. 
“Paige suffered from 2 bullets to the chest and 1 to the head. This wasn’t a freak accident, someone wanted her dead.” Kurt crosses his arms and moves up from the far end of the table. He was correct, but your gut couldn’t help but wail that Sully was not the cause. 
Blair continues to explain the approximate details, “Here’s the weird part, Sully calls the police but before they can get there he flies, and he flies here.” She takes a step away from the whiteboard and makes eye contact with you. She can sense what you’re already going to say. Blair knows you, and she knows you like the back of her hand. 
“My gut tells me that he didn’t do this. Something is missing. I need more, all of you need to try to find something, anything! Anything that can clear this man’s alibi. He said it himself that he loved her and that she was his best friend. I believe him.” You step up from the chair you were sitting in and start heading towards the conference room doors when your cell phone starts to ring. Grabbing it out of your left pocket, the name “Timo Meier” is displayed across the screen. You huff in response. 
He needs you right now and you know if Timo were to tell you to head to the White House as soon as possible you would and it wouldn’t end in a way you would like. Yet, you still manage to press the green button, confirming the call. 
“What do you want.” You’re busy and Timo knows it. This isn’t some ‘Oh hi! How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while phone call. Timo didn’t have time for that, being the White House’s Chief of Staff to Nico Hischiers personal bitch, he never had time.
Timo sighs, you can already picture him, sitting at his desk, elbow resting on it, his thumb and pointer finger trying to relieve his throbbing headache. Timo did so much for the President of the United States and somehow that included calling you on a random Tuesday afternoon. 
“He needs you to come in. Something happened and we need you to make it go away.” Timo lets you take a second to respond. Already sensing that the situation was substandard, it had been months since you had last spoken to Timo and maybe even half a year since you’ve seen Nico. Physically. It wasn’t that you hated him, you could never. It was the fact you left your position as the White House Communications Director for yourself. Everything you did was always for Nico and never not you and when the realization of that hit you, it was time to go. It’s time to separate yourself from some fantasy that only ever works out in the books. The feeling of two hands wrapped around your throat finally caught up to you. 
“I’ve got a client sitting in my conference room Timo.” 
“Look, I know, I know, but this isn’t something that needs to be out in the public. Make it go away. Please. If not for him, for me.” He’s desperate and you know it. If you were to tell him that the only reason you were about to agree was because you held him in such high regard, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you keep your reply as simple as needed. 
“Okay, I’ll be there in 45 minutes. I need to let Neil know.” 
You spot Timo before he spots you. He’s sat on a bench, perhaps getting some proper vitamin D. You watch the way his foot taps every other millisecond. Being cooped up in a mediocre-sized office in the White House can make someone feel insane, you’ve been there. 
As you get closer, you examine the navy blue suit that he’s dressed in. It’s his favorite one, he has 3 more pairs of it because he wears it so much. His tie has gold accents on it, it’s from his wife. You had helped her pick it out for him since you had seen him a lot more than she did. His eyes are heavy, he’s needs a vacation, a long one to be exact. You’ll let Nico know if you ever see him again, maybe he can pull some strings for him even if it’s a nice (long-awaited) expensive dinner.
You walk up the concrete steps before reaching Timo, the only thing grabbing his attention is the click of your heels. Once he realizes that you have walked up to him, you open your mouth to greet him. 
“What.” Timo giggles, he’s knows you mean business but he can’t deny he misses your presence around in the White House even if you were telling him off half of the time. 
“Well, hello to you too.” He stands up and gestures to start walking with him. You obey and within a second you guys stride across the walkway that overlooks the White House. 
“What do you need me for Timo? I don’t work for him anymore.” 
“He needs a favor.” You scoff at Timo and choose not to say anything.
“You still came. You came when I called.” His words hit you like a bus. It stings. Both you and Timo know that whenever the President needs anything from you, you’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’d do anything for everyone you love. You were loyal. That’s how it always had been and why Nico wanted you there every step of the way. He knew that he could turn his back and not expect a knife to be plunged into it. 
“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt. She works in AIDE. She claims to have had an affair with him. I need you to make it go away and fast.” Timo places his right arm on his abdomen, in response you hook your left one into his right and walk side by side with Timo. 
“Is it true?” You try to show no reaction but green envy begins to boil in your stomach.
“No, of course not, but I need you to shut it down.” 
“I need to see him.” You don’t think about your reply until after it leaves your mouth. Both you and Timo come to an abrupt stop. He takes a step back and faces you. 
“No, I don’t think that’s possible.” 
“You want me to shut her up? Then I need to look at him in the eyes and know he’s not lying.” Timo knows that you're serious. You always are. 
“The President’s schedule is packed. He has no time to see you.” He’s straightforward, Timo doesn’t have time for negotiating but luckily for you, you’re a persuasive person. You tend to always get what you want even if it means overstepping some boundaries. 
“He wants my services but here’s the thing Timo, I do not work for him anymore! So, tell him to make time to see me if not you’re just gonna have to find someone else to do it for you. You know where to find me.” 
After giving Timo a faint smile, you turn to walk away. As one foot goes in front of the other, you can’t help but feel that some part of this story is true making your heart ache.
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By the time you get back to your office, you get a phone call from Timo, confirming that Nico managed to get out of a meeting so that he could talk to you. With that, you grab your coat off the coat rack and start heading towards the conference room to let at least Gwen know about your abrupt departure. 
“Hey Gwen, duty calls at the White House, I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Anything new?” Gwen knows you’re talking about the case and before she utters anything new she’s found, she strides to the door and closes it. 
Knowing that Sully is just in the room next door, she lowers her voice, “Kurt managed to get into Paige’s email and I’ve been reading. I found one where she emailed a friend. She was supposed to meet up with a friend at the embassy party together but never showed.” 
You nod your head to show that you understand but it’s not enough information to be able to explain why Paige was murdered so, you request more information. 
“Who? and Why?” Keep it simple. 
Gwen takes about a second before she replies, “A girl named Ariel, and I don’t know why.” 
“Find out why. ‘I don’t know’ is not an answer I’m gonna take.” That sentence leaves your mouth as fast as lightning strikes the Earth’s outermost crust. 
To other people, your reply would’ve been seen as impolite but to you and everyone at the firm, it was just that ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get you anywhere in a case. Especially when so much is at stake.
“I won’t be long Gwen. Tell Blair and she’ll go interview the friend.”
Once you arrive at the White House you are led to Timo’s office. It’s nice and spacious, with a window that overlooks a garden. Nellie’s garden. A sour taste forms in your mouth. The garden is small, not as big as Jacqueline Kennedy’s garden but Nellie insisted she needed her own. You were told moments ago that she’d be attending this “meeting” and as much as you dislike it, you can’t help but feel empathy for Nellie. She was nothing but nice to you when Nico hired you as the manager for his campaign. It sucked most that you went not even a month later you started sleeping with her husband. 
The combined noises of clothes rustling and heavy breaths consume the aura of the small hotel room. It’s unbelievable how an innocent dinner between two ‘colleagues’ can turn outright sexual within two hours, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it was the two glasses of cabernet sauvignon that your unconscious level of operation had convinced you to drink. 
Nico places open-mouthed kisses from behind your ear, down to the spot on your breast that the black lace push-up bra doesn’t cover. The white ironed shirt, that had been covering your bra, had been tossed over your head about 15 minutes ago and the black midi skirt was currently being tugged down your hips. As for Nico, all to go was the baby blue dress shirt he wore, and the black tie. Which had been taken off right when the two of you entered the room. His dark navy blue pants remained on the list of clothes that needed to be discarded.  
You take a second to admire Nico’s disheveled hair. The thought of pulling it with your fingers when he whispers sweet nothing’s into your core flashes across your mind. Nico cuts off that thought once his lips make contact with yours. It’s messy and filled with need. The months of longing stares, mainly from him, were finally catching up. You take notice that your black skirt is now pooled at your feet. You take a step out of them, in a haze, the action bringing you closer to Nico. He steadies you by placing his hands on your hips. His fingertips graze the matching black lace panties you paired with your bra. He smirks into the kiss at the thought of you planning it out. 
Nico takes small steps, notifying you to do the same but backward, and guides you to the small light wooden desk against the wall opposite of the bed. The back of your thighs hit the desk and with a swift motion, Nico grabs you at the waist and sets you to sit on top of it. A quick gasp escapes your naturally pouty lips and with that, Nico gets on his knees. 
Timo snaps you out of that thought fairly quickly, “Well hello, long time no see!”
He’s being sarcastic, but you waste no time to get to the point. 
“I was told Nellie was going to be here. She knows about this?”
Timo nods, acknowledging your words, and replies, “It’s not like how it was during the election. The isolation of the White House bonded them, their marriage is as strong as ever.” 
Before you can react to Timos statement, Nellie comes barging into the room. 
“Y/N!” 
You fake a smile, deep down you could never hate Nellie. No matter how hard you try. “Nellie, hi! How are you doing?!” Faking your enthusiastic response, you can’t help but feel guilty. It wasn’t hard to read Nellie, so you could tell she missed your presence around in the White House. Once Nellie reaches you she engulfs you in a heartwarming hug. She rubs your back and soaks in the moment, reminiscing an old friendship.
You’re the first to step away and once you create a small fragment of distance, Nellie answers your question.
“I’m doing well! It’s taking some time getting used to you not being here but I’m managing. How’s the firm?”
“We’re doing well over there. It’s been busy but I like being occupied…can never get enough of it.” You chuckle at the tiny comment you make and Nellie goes to carry the conversation but comes to a halt when the double doors to Timo’s office open once again. 
You told yourself, on the drive over to the White House, that you would keep things strictly professional but Nico always managed to make that very hard. Not only that, you still deeply cared for the man and he did the same as well. But the moment you saw his face everything you had prepared yourself for had expeditiously faded away. You can’t even process the moment, that he’s here and physically in front of you until he’s shaking your hand. 
The last time you saw Nico was at a charity gala in late June. Five months after you left. You only managed to stay for an hour until everything felt overwhelming. Your chest felt like it was being compressed by an unseen entity, and bile was rising in your throat. Nico had tried his best to talk to you but with Nellie by his side and her pregnancy rumors, he couldn’t. It broke his heart when he saw the tears in your eyes. You’d felt betrayed but also knew that being the President’s mistress meant that you never came first. Even if he lied to you and said that you did. 
“Y/N, It’s good to see you.” He’s keeping it simple. He can’t show too much vulnerability, there are still two people in the room. 
“Likewise, Mr. President.” You drop your hand first from the handshake and look closely at Nico. He shaved two days ago, you can tell by the stubble sitting on the lower half of his face. It has just grown enough to the point where if he could get on his knees in front of you, you’d feel it scratch your inner thighs. 
“Shall we take a walk?” Timo kindly suggests. 
The three of you decide to chat in Jacqueline Kennedy Garden. With the company of two secret service members but you don’t mind. 
It may be January but the pansies are still in season. You walk up and admire the some that are purple. You notice that in the outer part of the petal, they’re royal purple, but towards the center, they’re light purple - almost a lilac color. That would be a nice color for a wedding. You’re too busy admiring the flowers that don’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching until the person has already reached you. It’s Nico. You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. He clears his throat before starting the conversation with you. 
“I know you have your hands full with the Sully St. James situation so, thank you for doing this, for me.” He turns to look at you. God you’ve missed him. 
Timo walks up behind you and the president, the two secret service agents aren’t too far behind. He pulls out a beige file folder and speaks. 
“Her name is Vanessa Wyatt.” You take hold of the folder and open it up. 
“I know.” 
“Well if you let me finish- anyways, she’s 25. I’ve heard rumors that she might be talking.” Timo states and looks off into the distance. It’s nice and sunny outside, but not even for it to take the edge off the cold. You take a look at what she looks like. She must be new, or at least got hired after you resigned. She’s cute but looking at her makes you feel nauseated. You push that feeling aside, it’s best at what you do. 
“But you can’t fire her. At least not without a shit show going off.” Both Timo and Nico nod. Nico has yet to say anything. You find it odd but push that thought aside. You know Nico wouldn’t do this. 
“Look, she hasn’t gone to the press, so best shut it down before she opens her mouth.” Timo’s phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call. It’s just you and Nico. A part of you doesn’t want to ask him the long-awaited question but you still do it anyways.
“I have to ask, did you do it?” You look up at him for the first time after reaching the garden. All you see are his eyes, they’re identical to the color of the way he takes his coffee. 
“No. I would never do that.” Nico pauses but doesn’t break the eye contact. You’re starting to feel light-headed. Your heart wants to believe him but there’s someone in your ear screaming that he isn’t telling the truth. 
“You’ve known me for a long time. Most of my time has been spent with you. You know I would never, ever fall for some girl. You know there’s only one girl I truly love.” He accentuates the last sentence. Only you know he’s talking about you. It’s a secret embedded between the two of you. You feel warm, not the bad kind, but the warm and comfy kind. He knows you need reassurance, he knows you think he’s lying, and he knows that if he did do it, it would be unforgivable. It feels like time is passing by slowly, you’re lost in his pools of melted chocolate-like irises. He never once, looked away. He’s telling the truth. 
“We’re due to be back now!” Looking back, you see Timo. He’s about 15 feet away, but he’s walking towards both Nico and you. 
“I’ll handle it. Consider it handled.” You look away. A burning sensation hits the back of your eye sockets. You feel like crying but you won’t let the tears fall.
Once Timo reaches you he wraps his arms around you and the President’s shoulders. 
“The band is back together!”
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One hour. One hour is how much time you had given Gwen to find anything and everything about Vanessa Wyatt and boy did she find something. 
Gwen walks beside you, to your left. The pace you’ve set is fast, it wasn’t like you had all day. You had a firm to run and a man’s destiny in your hands. Vanessa Wyatt was just a fork in the road. You had a plan and with enough convincing, she’d end up on a bus to Wisconsin in the morning.
“You’re acting as my witness. Just shut up and listen to what I say. Do not engage with her.” Both you and Gwen had been following Vanessa around Easy Potomac Park for approximately seven minutes. You took immediate notice that she was accompanied by her dog, a golden retriever. Gwen had whispered something about it being adorable, to you it was an amazing conversation starter, a way to get in, and a vulnerability point for Vanessa. 
Vanessa’s quick to take a seat on a bench, overlooking the Potomac River. You waste no time to walk up to her and Gwen follows suit. “What a cute dog! Golden Retriever?” 
Vanessa takes the bait like a fish dumb enough to take a worm that’s on a fish hook. You’ve already got her right where you want her and you’ve only spoken six words. 
“Yeah haha! His name is Thomas Jefferson, like the President, it’s lame I know! But it suits him surprisingly.” The thought of how naive she is crosses your mind. Was she like that with Nico? You take a seat next to her before carrying on the conversation.
“Vanessa, it would be a mistake to think that there will be no consequences to you telling lies about the President.” Her face falls almost immediately. Gwen gives you a look. Almost like she was surprised herself, she was least expecting you to mention the so-called “affair” this early on in the conversation. To your dismay, Vanessa doesn’t make an effort to start running away yet. Stupid girl. Rather instead she questions you. 
“I never told you my name. Who are you?” She finally turns to get a good look at you. Vanessa notices the pale, off-white pantsuit that’s on your body. It fits you to a tee. 
“My name is Y/N.” You pause for a brief moment then continue your lecture to the younger girl, “And I want to make it clear that I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here because I’m a
concerned citizen.” Vanessa looks away, tears threatening to fall on her plump, pinky cheeks. She isn’t wearing anything to keep her warm besides a thin coat. 
She mutters another question. “What do you want?” 
Your response leaves your mouth rapidly. “I came to warn you. A girl like you can’t win something like this. In, employment your face will be everywhere. And by everywhere I mean tabloids, newspapers, social media, local news. People are going to associate you with a sex scandal. All kinds of information about you will become available to the press in a heartbeat. For example, the 22 sexual partners you’ve had? What about that case of gonorrhea? Oh and let’s not forget your mothers two year stay at Bedford Hospital.” Everything you say comes out nonchalantly. You pause and take a look at the younger brunette, waiting for a response but she says nothing. You take it as a sign to continue. 
“That’s what I thought. It’s information like that, that could ruin everything for you.” Both you and Gwen take notice of Vanessa. The tears that were threatening to fall, are now halfway down her cheeks. Gwen’s heart breaks for the girl but deep down knows it’s for the best. You, however, could care less. Situations like this, never end up good for the woman involved. 
“He said he loved me. He gave me this dog.” Vanessa manages to utter while shaking her head. Her world feels like it’s falling apart and you stand at the altar watching it happen. 
“You see, it’s lies like those that could hurt you when said to other people. People not as nice as me. Here let me give you some advice, hand in your resignation, pack a bag and your dog, get out of this town, maybe in Wisconsin, and start over. Never look back.” 
You’ve managed to move closer to Vanessa. It’s not a lot but you’re still testing the waters. If you were to ask Gwen, she’s still surprised that Vanessa’s still sitting there. Personally, Gwen would have fled a long time ago. The younger brunette to your right, takes a deep sigh and begs, “Why are you doing this to me?” I’m a good person!” You get the urge to laugh in her face. It doesn’t matter if you’re nice or not, people love to ruin people. She should’ve known this by now. A girl this naive should not be in a town like this.
“You want to know who was also a good person?” You question her and continue, “Monica Lewinsky. And she was telling the truth. But she still got destroyed.” You say it casually and Vanessa doesn’t appreciate it, in the next millisecond, she grabs her dog’s leash and hurries away. Gwen is still standing, she’s shocked, to say the least. 
Turning to Gwen, you start to state, “If you get subpoenaed in front of a grand jury, you can testify as an officer of the court that I was working on my own. I didn’t blackmail or threaten her. If you don’t get subpoenaed, then this never happened.” You walk in the other direction from Vanessa. Gwen takes a moment to follow suit and once you hear Gwen’s footsteps, you take your cell phone out of your coat pocket to dial. 
“It’s handled.”
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You are typing away on your keyboard, answering some emails when the doors to your office fly open. It’s Blair and she’s rushing in. You can tell her her brain is going 100 miles per hour when she cheers, “Paige is a whore! She’s a whore!” You shake your head and smile in return, expecting her to say more, and that she does. 
“I had Kurt hack into her message log and she had HUNDREDS and I mean HUNDREDS of text messages with this guy named Tom Henderson. And I know what you’re going to say ‘Go interview him then’ We’ll that’s what I did while you were gone doing god knows what!” She’s starting to get off track but you don’t mind. Blair was a chatterbox at heart. 
“Good news is that Tom spilled his guts the minute I went to ask questions, but he has an air-tight alibi. He was working as a bouncer at a club at the time of the murder. There has got to be like 100 witnesses.” You nod your head and before you can tell Blair anything she continues, again. 
“Oh my god! How could I forget?! Henderson claims that Sully knew that he was sleeping with  his girlfriend.” With that, you waste no time to get out of your chair, and before you can even take a step Neil comes strutting into the room. 
“Even worse news, the gun found in the murder has Sully’s fingerprints all over it. It gives him means.” A small “fuck!” leaves your mouth and you dash towards the double doors that connect your office and another. Pushing open the door, you waste no time to start interrogating Sully. 
“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom Henderson?!” You point your finger at him like a mom scolding her child. Sully replies stupidly, “What?”
“Did. You. Know?” Accentuating every word in the question causes Sully to get irritated.
“I hired you! You can’t come in here and talk-” Sully’s cut off by Neil almost immediately. You let him overpower the situation by walking away. Your mind is running, trying to think what the possibilities could be.
“Yes, she can! She can do whatever the hell she wants! Without her, you would be in jail right now!” Things are starting to escalate quickly between you three. Blair is just observing what’s happening. You decided to ask one more time even though you hate repeating yourself. 
“Did you know Paige was sleeping with Tom?” The tone that you ask him is softer, things are starting to get real and if you don’t get to the bottom of this, Sully could be going to jail for 20 years to life.
Sully answers your question, “Yes, but I didn’t kill her!” Your mind shuts everything out once he answers your question. Neil and Blair start conducting a plan that you have no care for right now. Deciding to walk away from all the chaos, you manage to bump into the one person you least expect. Vanessa, with Gwen following behind. 
“Oh, what the hell!”
“I want you to give him a message!” You stare Gwen down, scolding her with your eyes for even letting Vanessa in, in the first place. 
“That is not appropriate.” You take ahold of Vanessa’s upper left bicep, Gwen the other, and quickly guide her out of the firm. She tries to go with a fight but your grip doesn’t let her escape. You open the front door to the firm, giving Vanessa access to leave but she makes it clear that you hear what she has to say. “Not appropriate? You came to me and I know he sent you! I know you can give him a message! I’m telling the truth! I am!” 
“This conversation is over. Please leave.”
You’re barely coming down with your high from the previous chaos when David Rosen, the US attorney general walks into your building. 
“Times up, Y/N. I have a warrant.” He’s holding up white papers, stapled together. He’s here to take Sully into custody but luckily for you, David arrived earlier than expected. 
“I still have 40 minutes.” You bark at David, taking a look at your watch. Turning your back to him, you reach the conference doors.
“You can wait in the lobby by all means.” You suggest to David. Maybe he’ll listen to you once and for all. 
“Fine, but in 40 minutes I want Sully St. James in custody.” He huffs out. 
Meanwhile, you try to find Gwen. Once you see her in the conference room you have her call Blair, to let her know that you’ve officially been invaded and time is running out to find Sully a viable alibi. 
Blair, Neil, and Kurt walk through the front doors exactly 7 minutes before David is supposed to be arrested. Blair comes in hot, Neil and Kurt trailing behind her. She’s holding a flash drive and gives you a rundown of what that flash drive material contains. You take no longer than 3 seconds to head your way to the conference room where Sully St. James is currently seated. You tread the water lightly, not wanting to anger him when approaching the situation. 
“We don’t have much time, Sully,” you start with, “the police are here so I need you to listen.” Blair, Kurt, Neil, and Gwen slowly enter the room with you. Most of the time, when debriefing with a client, there’s always someone else with you. In this case, all of them. 
“We were able to verify your alibi.” Sully’s reaction doesn’t surprise you. Confusion shadows over his face. Almost like he didn’t even know how or who verified his alibi. 
“You were?” He looks around the room after he questions you. All eyes are on him and everyone can tell that he’s realizing that his secret is no secret anymore. You nod in response to his question. 
“That’s.. that’s a good thing, right?” He’s playing dumb and you’re catching along. You open your mouth to start a lecture. 
“Sully, you’re the most decorated hero since the Vietnam War, you come from a family of well-respected soldiers, you make your living giving speeches for the conservative right, and you’ve said over and over, that Paige was your best friend. Not your lover.” Your eyes never leave him during the duration of your speech, but when they do you signal Blair to turn on the TV and plug the flash drive into it. Once she does, a video starts to play. It’s from a security camera at an ATM, that so happened to be next to the bar Sully had been seen at before the murder. In the video, Sully St. James is seen standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, pacing. He’s waiting for someone. Just on cue, a man in his mid to late 20s is seen approaching Sully. Once he gets his hands on Sully, he kisses him with passion. Almost like lovers who are reuniting for the first time after months of being apart. The room is silent up until the video shows the two grown men kissing. Sully’s breath starts to pick up, he’s infuriated. 
“Paige knew, didn’t she?” You already knew the answer to that but still needed the clarification. You were never one to go based on assumptions. Sully doesn’t respond so you continue, “She knew you were gay, the two of you had a deal.” Sully speaks up for the first time in 3 minutes. 
“You can’t show anyone that.” Disregarding what he said, you ask, “I need the name of the man that you were kissing.”
“Over my dead body! I serve my country. I honor the uniform! I am a conservative man. Everything I stand for is anti-gay. I am the deacon of my church! They’re talking about me running for Congress one day. I’m a hero. I can’t be gay.” His demeanor starts off hostile but then shuts down and he manages to whisper the last remark. 
“But you are. This is who you are.” You point to the TV which had been paused at a time frame where Sully and his secret lover were engaged in a kiss. “This is your alibi. Let us help you.” You walk over to the couch that Sully is seated at and crouch next to him. You and Sully are the only two who have spoken a word so far. Everyone else is watching the scene unfold in front of their eyes. 
Sully stands up straight and looks ahead of him. With one small word, he answers you. 
“No.” You stand, but before you can mutter a word he turns around and heads out the conference room doors. You don’t pay attention as to whether everyone follows you but you follow Sully out. Demanding him to wait but to no avail, he doesn’t listen. Once he opens the firm’s front doors, he is met with David Rosen. 
The bright ceiling lights are the cause of the forming headache across your temples. To say that everything that happened in the past 28 hours is ridiculous would be an understatement. Neil and Blair are at the police station with you. By the time Sully St. James had his mugshot taken, you got a text message from Gwen. You managed to mutter an ‘I have to go’ and frantically left. Having left instructions for Neil and Blair just in case anything happened with Sully. 
Being told, by Gwen, that Vanessa Wyatt was in the hospital and she was going to see her was just the cherry on top. You wasted no time to get there as fast as you could. It was 7 pm by the time you entered the hospital door, exhaustion hitting you like a ton of bricks. Getting into bed sounds much better than having sex. 
Gwen is standing outside of Vanessa’s hospital room when you get there. You greet her then immediately ask, “What happened?” You take a look at Gwen and she genuinely seems worried for the girl who’s in the hospital bed, clearly sedated. 
Gwen explains, “She slashed her wrists. There’s no press lurking around but one of the nurses told me her dad’s flying in from Michigan.” 
You double-check with Gwen, just to make sure that there is no possible threat. “No nurses or doctors, about anything?” Gwen shakes her head, her ponytail moving along with her head, and responds shortly. 
“Just to me.”
“Good stay with her.” You turn to leave, regretting to have even come in the first place. A simple phone call would have been fine. Before you take a step Gwen takes ahold of your upper arm and blurted your name. 
“Y/N! You told me to trust my gut when I first got hired, and now my gut is telling me that she is telling the truth-” You cut off Gwen to share what you think. 
“She’s not.” You keep it short and sweet. Nico told you that he didn’t do it and you believe him. Your heart believes him. He said he loved you and you were the only girl he’s ever loved. 
“I know the President, Gwen. He wouldn’t do this.” You’re starting to become stern since Gwen is being persistent about something that could never, ever possibly be true. 
“I just find it weird that she was going on and on about how there’s this secret room off the Oval Office where they’ve met, and I’ve read about the White House. There is a little room.”
You waste no time to state the obvious. “If you read it, she read it. People are crazy Gwen. They love to get fixated on famous people and stalk them.” 
“But I don’t think she’s crazy.” If you didn’t have any love for Gwen you probably would’ve smacked her for continuing to run her mouth. Since you do care for her deeply, you demand her to tell you why she thinks that. “Why?”
“Okay, she tried to take her life but she didn’t want to die. She called you right after she did it because she wanted him to find out she was hurt and come see her. She thought he would do that.” Gwen rambles everything out in one go as if she’s already rehearsed this conversation in her head. 
“Gwen-”
“She was going on and on about how she thought he’d come to see her and call her some stupid little German word.” You start to doze off but your ears perk up like a dog that hears a siren from a mile away when she mentions the word German. 
“What?” 
Gwen’s face scrunches up and tilts her head to the side at your remark. She’s questioning you and doesn’t even need to open her mouth. 
“Repeat yourself.” You try to tell yourself that you heard something completely different. How pathetic. 
“Oh! He’d call her a German word, she said it means treasure or something. Why does it ma-” You cancel out the rest of Gwen’s sentence and scurry away. Your legs start working independently and lead you down the hospital corridor. Gwen calls out your name in response, but you pay no mind to it. The pit in your stomach is probably the size of a football and it doesn’t help that bile is rising in your throat and everything feels hazy. Betrayal wasn’t something new to you but coming from someone who expected the same loyalty from you was gutwrenching.
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Sometimes you think it’s crazy how much authority you still have in the White House because you simply do not work there anymore. Nonetheless, it comes in handy, in instances like these. Rose, the President’s Secretary, leads you the way into the Oval Office in a matter of seconds. It didn’t take much convincing, just a quick “It’s an emergency”. Once Rose opens the first of 3 doors that connect the Oval Office to the White House, you step inside. Walking up to the set of couches that sit in the middle of the room, to set your purse down, you notice Nico isn’t at his desk. Matter of fact he isn’t anywhere in the room. With that, you question Rose about Nico’s whereabouts.
“Where is he?” You expect her to go into detail, whether it’s a meeting or at dinner with Nellie. But Rose never does. Instead, she gives a simple answer. 
“It’ll just be a moment.” With that, Rose walks out and shuts the door behind her. 
It doesn’t take long for Nico to come walking through the door, Timo trailing right behind, but when he does, you notice his attire. He’s wearing a bowtie. Which only means he has something important going on. 
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Disregarding his question, you plea to him with your eyes. He notices the quiver of your lip and how tears threaten to leave your eyes. Nico senses something is up. 
“We’re gonna need the room, please.” He demands Timo. Nico’s eyes never leave yours. Almost as if there is a magnetic pull to the two of you. Timo stands there dumbfoundedly and questions the President. 
“But, Nico you have to give that toast to the President of Mexico in 10 minutes. Maybe this could wait until after?” Nico’s eyes finally leave yours. He turns to Timo and repeats himself. 
“I said we need the room,” Nico demands almost instantly. That being so, Timo lowers his head, and his hand reaches to the door handle so he can close the door behind him. Once Nico hears the click of the door shutting fully closed he whispers your name. You take no time to finally repeat the word you know Gwen was talking about. 
“Schatzli, huh?” The word rolls off your tongue as if it’s venom. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and never be seen again. Nico turns to you and you repeat the word of endorsement like it’s a chant. You’re angry and Nico knows it. With that, Nico points up ahead. There sits a security camera that overlooks the majority of the room. Watching your every move. Nico knows he can’t have a conversation about Vanessa knowing he’s being recorded. Good thing he was a smart man. During the first week after his inauguration, he managed to find out that the camera doesn’t record past his desk. So the pair of you had rendezvous against the large crystalline window that overlooks Nellie’s garden and a patio. Countless times. 
Nico guides you to stand in front of the window with a simple, “Come here.” To that, you obey. As to why? You don’t even know the answer to that considering all you see is rage. You reach him, keeping your distance but still out of the security camera’s view. Disgust and humiliation still sits on your face, never intended to leave soon. 
Nico is the first to speak amongst you two. “You left me.” He can’t even look you in the eye when he finally admits the truth. A man who lies is always a coward. 
“Because you are married! You said you wanted to dedicate yourself to your marriage! I wanted you to be a better man and be the man that I campaigned for-” Nico cuts you off by slowly taking steps towards you. You don’t need to be a genius to know what he’s doing. 
“Do not touch me.” You planned for it to come out stern but ended up sounding like a hurt duckling. But that you were. The look in Nico’s eye confirms that he was not listening to you. Instead of him pleading for you to hear him out, he steps even closer. Once he reaches you, his hands rest upon your hips. His body aching to make contact with yours. Your body is pressed up against the large window with another step. Nico’s eyes stare down at you, faces only mere inches apart. The pair of you already know where the next thing leads to but you’re not letting him go that easily.
Before his lips can make contact with yours, you push at his chest to get him off of you. Putting all force you can conjure into the shove. You turn around and before you can think your right hand makes contact with his left cheek with a hard smack!
“I believed you! You clouded my judgment! I wanted to believe you because I love you and THIS is what you do to me? She tried to kill herself! Did you know she’s lying in a hospital bed because she slashed her wrists open? I destroyed that girl-” Everything happens too fast and you can’t even see through the tears that started falling just moments ago. Nico finally dared to walk up to you and kiss you. His right hand has ahold of the back of your neck. While the other is on your upper arm, keeping you in place. It takes less than a second for you to come to terms with what’s happening. As mad as you are at Nico, you couldn’t help but feel the need to return the kiss. Your internal dialogue screams at you to stop. To step away and never talk to him again. 
The kiss is slow and passionate, Nico doesn’t want to rush into anything further because he knows you won’t hesitate to take a step back and slap him again. You had the balls no one ever did. Before Nico can gain access to your mouth with his tongue, one of the doors is swung open. 
“I just want to let you know that we can hear you yelling.” By the time Timo shuts the door, Nico and you have created a small fragment of distance away from each other. The satin pinky nude lipstick you wore, transferred onto Nico’s lips. Your hair is a bit disheveled and the pair of you are out of breath. Timo was a smart man so it didn’t take much for him to recognize what was happening behind closed doors. Timo clears his throat before he speaks. 
“Mr. President, I recommended you go wash up.” Timo puts his hands in his pockets and refuses to look you in the eye. 
“Timo-”
“No. You have lipstick on your mouth. You have a toast to give. Go. Now.” With that, Nico obeys and leaves the room, not even looking back towards you. Timo and you bask in a moment of silence. You stand there like a doe who has yet to learn how to walk. The feeling of embarrassment is an understatement to say at least. In times like these, where Timo puts his foot down, it makes you feel like a child being scolded for writing on the wall with markers. 
Timo walks up to the President’s desk and admires the picture he has of the three of you. It was the day of Nico’s inauguration, the picture was taken right after Nico’s speech. Timo wishes things could go back to the way they were. 
“Oh mein gott,” Timo mutters under his breath. After the past two years of knowing Timo, you’d expect that he knew about the affair. 
“You didn’t know? He tells you everything.” You scoff. Nico and Timo are close. Like brothers, who manage to piss each other off all day every day but that doesn’t get in the way of Nico telling Timo every personal detail that goes on in his life. 
“He didn’t tell me this.” He shakes his head and looks down at his feet. 
You wipe a tear that cascades down your left cheek and  quickly mutter, “Because it didn’t matter.” In disbelief, you walk towards the couch, reaching for your purse. Feeling the sudden need to get out of the one place you do not wish to be at. Timo tries to grab at your wrist, tries to talk you into staying but you’re too fast enough for him to get a good grip. Once you reach the door, you adjust your purse and push the straps up against your shoulder blade. You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to stay. Alas, your right hand makes contact with the gold door knob and you twist and push the door open. With every last bit of courage you have, you step out of the Oval Office with your head up high. You’ve got a man to get out of jail.
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preiyers · 1 month ago
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dad!luigi comforting his daughter after she gets pouty when her parents reveal she’s having a sibling as she wants to be the center of their attention </3
♱ NEW ADDITION — DAD!LUIGI MANGIONE X READER
WARNINGS: reader is an older sister in this one! kind of bratty daughter
it has almost been a month since you found out you were pregnant with your second child.
your morning sickness has started and every time your daughter catches you in the bathroom, her curious mind makes her ask you questions throughout the whole day.
you told luigi about it and he thought it was probably time to tell your daughter about the new addition to the family.
the two of you planned on bribing her, no scratch that. you planned on taking her out, letting her choose where to eat for dinner, and to seal the deal, get her the dessert she wanted then drop the bomb on her.
your daughter frequently got jealous the spotlight wasn’t on her. luigi just spoiled her so much that she got used to that treatment wherever she went and it’s slowly becoming a problem. the worst incident was on the 1st birthday of your sister-in-law's son. she started throwing tantrums and even pushed the little boy while they were getting a photo taken by the grandparents.
so, you were hoping for the best for the second baby.
you and luigi took her to an arcade and let her play a few games, even winning a prize in some!
“dada i’m hungwy,” she whined to him.
the plan goes smoothly as she chose the restaurant (an italian one cus she wanted pizza but the truth is) and then picks out dessert for later.
you and luigi were sat across from her as the three of you ate and then came the dessert which would be the perfect time to tell your daughter about the news.
“sunny, mama and papa have to talk to you about something.” luigi started, holding your hand in his as your daughter took a big bite of her ice cream sundae, getting chocolate fudge on the side of her lips.
you smiled at the image before you spoke. “so, remember when i would tell you about how nice it would be for you to have a playmate so when mama and papa gets tired, someone will still play with you?"
the curly-haired toddler nodded as she licked the spoon.
"what if we told you that you'd be having a playmate now..." your daughter's head tilted, eyes blinking at the two of you, not knowing what it meant.
you turned to luigi and he steps in the conversation.
"what mama is trying to say is that you're.. going to be a big sister!"
her spoon drops on the table, lips twitching from a smile to a pout the two of you knew all too well what it meant.
she didn't speak to the both of you the rest of the night, even when your husband would tease her — there was nothing. she didn't budge and kept the pout visible on her face. she'd also stomp when she walked.
when the three of you got home, she kicked off her shoes and went straight to her room.
you sighed, feeling helpless. luigi pecks your temple then reassures you he'll talk to her. "go rest amore, i'll talk to her okay?"
he goes to her room and gently knocks on her door before peeking in, her figure facing back from the door.
"hey sunny bunny," he takes a seat on the edge of her bed as he watches her fix her toys with a pout on her face. "you okay?" she just scoffs in response, scooting away from her bed a bit.
"you know, having a little sibling won't be that bad," luigi started, eyes still on his upset daughter.
"mama and i grew up with siblings and it was the best part of our childhoods," he smiled as he thought about his sisters and playing around their home in maryland. "i was lucky enough to have two big sisters who got to guide and support me with everything."
your daughter, slowly turned to face him, not wanting to let her pride down.
"but y'know, your mama was a big sister, and you're going to be just like her," he smiles at her. she gets up from the floor and luigi opens his arms for her to crash in but instead, the girl climbs up on his lap and sits on it.
"mama and i are so excited for you to have a sibling because the two of you will be best friends for life." he rubbed her back as she looked up at her father.
you walk to your daughter's room, curious about what the two are talking about. you leaned close to the door and listened to them talk.
"will you—will you still love me even when baby comes?" her voice soft and the pout remains on her face as she talks.
your mouth gaped open as you heard what your daughter had just asked. luigi's gaze softens at her and the pout she had, reflects on him like a mirror.
"of course sunny, you will still be our number one baby but we will give the same love to your little sibling as well."
you smiled to yourself as you heard the conversation going well which gave you the reassurance that your daughter was going to be alright when the baby comes.
the pair spoke more after you left to go to your bedroom. luigi told her stories about his childhood with his sisters, pulling pranks on them, building sand castles together, surprising his parents on their wedding anniversary and the likes.
TAGLIST !
@fuckitiloveyouu @meikoismartha @strawbxrryaxolotyl @ilovetoomanymen @onlyangelicc @for-lovers-always @freeluigihesbae
comment to be added
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ashwhowrites · 4 months ago
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Hi lovey! Love your work.
Could you do rockstar Eddie and reader based on open arms or faithfully by journey? Maybe even dad rock star Eddie and mom reader??
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻
Faithfully
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Highway run into the midnight sun Wheels go 'round and 'round, you're on my mind Restless hearts, sleep alone tonightSendin' all my love along the wire
Eddie sat on his tour bus, strumming his guitar. The bus was dark as the rest of the band was asleep, but Eddie was wide awake. The small light above him was bright enough to light up his small bunk bed. He set his guitar aside and went under his covers. He felt tired but he knew sleep wouldn't come easy.
He reached over to shut off the light, closing his eyes as he spent another night alone. He always missed his wife, but the night was the worst. His arms craved to wrap around her, but all he had was a pillow.
They say that the road ain't no place to start a family Right down the line, it's been you and me And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be Oh, girl, you stand by me
Eddie understood that his family would face different challenges. He'd only be home a few times out of the year. Just a few hours to kiss his wife and play with his kids. Y/N was the best woman he had ever met, and he'd always praise her for her strength. She encouraged Eddie to keep his dream alive after their kids were born, telling him she could handle them while he was on the road.
He called them as much as he could. He loved hearing her voice as she talked about her workday, and the sounds of their kids playing in the back. Then she'd pass the phone to their oldest, Evan. He was seven and the only kid Eddie could have a decent conversation with. Their daughter, Allie, was only one, but Eddie loved to listen to her mumble anything she wanted. His family was his world and he appreciated the sacrifices they made for him.
I'm forever yours Faithfully
Eddie had no worries about his wife finding comfort in someone new, and she didn't worry about him. They knew their love was strong and no one would get in between them. Their wedding rings are a reminder of the love they share. Eddie had thousands of girl fans, many trying to catch his eye. But it was impossible to get him to look twice. He sang about his wife and she was the only woman on his mind.
Y/N missed her husband like crazy but she looked forward to him coming home every time. Hearing his voice over the phone made her heart skip a beat. She loved seeing his face in Evan and Allie, it felt like he was with her even if he was miles away.
And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair Two strangers learn to fall in love again I get the joy of rediscovering you Oh, girl, you stand by me
The distance wasn't easy, but the reward of seeing each other again was indescribable.
Eddie smiled as the driver drove up to his house. It didn't take him even a minute to get out of the car and haul his bags through the front door. It was early morning, and the house was silent. He softly put down his bags and closed the door.
He worked his way upstairs and headed to his bedroom. He walked into his room and saw Y/N asleep on his side of the bed, Evan lying next to her as his drool covered her pillow.
Eddie smiled at the view of them cuddled together. He moved to his side of the bed, stripping himself down to his boxers. He slid inside the bed. Y/N was on her back, Eddie rested his head on her neck and softly kissed her skin. She stirred awake and groaned.
"It's just me," Eddie whispered, moving his head so he could look at her. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked away the tiredness.
"You're home!" She whispered excitedly. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in to kiss his face. Eddie caught her lips in a soft kiss, his body lit up with electricity. Every time he came back home, it felt like he fell in love again.
"I missed you so much," she said against his lips
"I missed you like crazy," he said before he pressed his lips against hers again.
Eddie loved being on the road, but he loved nothing more than being home.
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@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
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willowsnook · 2 months ago
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back to each other
request from @heavierthnheavenly
lewis hamilton x rosberg reader
please don’t leave
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——————————————-
“Happy 30th my sweet sister,” Nico yelled at you as everyone cheered while you blew out the candles.
“Thanks, Nico,” you replied, catching your breath. 30 was here, and honestly, you felt like this was the beginning of the rest of your life. You remember thinking back when you were 23 that life was going by so fast and that you needed to accomplish x y, and z, but now that you hit this new milestone, you realized how young you really were.
“What’d you wish for?” Your best friend asked from next to you. Before you could answer, Nico jumped in.
“Hopefully a husband so she can stop mooching off of me.”
“Hey,” you said pouting. “I gave you back your credit card last year.”
Nico and your friends laughed and you felt filled with love from the people surrounding you. You posted a cute picture of the cake to your Insta story and grabbed a glass of wine to drink with your friends. They were going through all the standout guys you had dated in your 20s.
“Remember that one guy from the US who was the hockey player?”
“Biz?” You asked, thinking back to when you briefly lived in NYC. You’d met him at an event you had planned for the Rangers and were immediately charmed. He was the life of the party; dumber than a rock, though.
“I think he was definitely the funniest guy you’ve ever dated,” Nico said. Nico had met him once and was fascinated by the way he talked. The Canadian accent mixed with that hockey slang was like an alien language to your brother.
“Until he couldn’t keep it in his pants,” you reminded everyone. It was never serious between the two of you so you weren’t that heartbroken at the time, just mildly irritated.
“You need an older man,” your friend said and everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Your phone buzzed against your thigh and your eyebrows furrowed while looking at the notification.
“Speaking of older men, guess who just slid up on my story?”
“Who?” Your brother asked.
“Lewis,” you said, slightly confused. “He said ‘happy birthday sunshine, hope you had a day filled with those you love.’”
“I didn’t know you guys talked,” Nico said, trying to keep his voice casual.
“We don’t,” you said reassuring your brother. “Nothing more than pleasantries when I see him at races.”
While Lewis and Nico had mostly mended their relationship, it was still a sore subject in the family. It was a long time ago but you remember how he went from being someone that was like an older brother to you to someone whose name was forbidden to speak. Now when you saw him it was slightly awkward for you at least. You could tell he always wanted to speak more but you came up with any excuse to cut a conversation short.
“He’s just being friendly,” you said, pushing it to the back of your mind.
——————————————————
The last two weeks of your January were spent in Italy, and you really wished you could have been here in the summer instead, but duty calls. Working for an event marketing agency, you had garnered quite the reputation in your 8 years working for them and were now in charge of a lot of VIP events.
Ferrari had hired your firm to plan their season kickoff party and you had been ran ragged the past couple of months putting things together. You flew out 2 weeks in advance to be on the ground for finishing touches and you were proud of what your team accomplished. It was lavish.
Donning a floor length, black dress, you grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter, eyes scanning the room. Because of your seniority, you weren’t necessarily in charge of anything day of, but you couldn’t help but keep an eye out on how things were going.
The main ceremony went on without a hitch, people enjoyed their dinners, and now a DJ started a set for those who wanted to stay late and party. You made one last round, checking on your staff that was here before heading to the coat check. While waiting for the woman to retrieve your coat, you felt someone come up very close next to you.
“Leaving already?” Lewis asked, and you turned to take him in. He was wearing a fitted suit, the color of his new team, and a small smile.
“Yeah, my team has it under control,” you responded politely before turning to grab the coat.
“Please don’t leave,” he said, surprising you. “You always leave when I try to talk to you.”
“You know why,” you responded quietly and his eyes softened.
“That was a long time ago,” he murmured. “One drink.”
“Okay,” you said giving in. He still had the same effect on you that he did when you were 13 and hopelessly in love with your brother’s best friend. The need to please him still existed deep in your soul, even though you had tried to push it down. Nico wasn’t the only heart that Lewis had broken, intentional or not.
His hand rested on your lower back as you let yourself be guided back into the event with him and to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and could feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face. Turning to look at him, he still didn’t say anything, it was like he was memorizing every inch of your face.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said and you blushed, looking away.
“Thank you, Lewis,” you said back, voice wavering. You cursed yourself internally for still letting him have this effect on you.
“How long are you in Italy?” He asked.
“Just a couple more days, then back to London,” you told him and he tilted his head, thinking.
“Can I take you out?”
You stared at him dumbfounded, a small smirk working it’s way onto his face.
“Like on a date?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” You asked and he chuckled.
“I want to spend time with you,” he said, simply.
“I think the last time we hung out one on one, I had just turned 21,” you said, reminiscing.
Something had shifted back then when you had reached your 20s. Lewis had started to look at you in a different way. Suddenly you weren’t his friend’s little sister anymore, you were a grown, beautiful woman. You had danced the line with him between being friends and something more that season, but as his and your brother’s relationship quickly deteriorated you stepped back.
“Those were good times,” Lewis said. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened between us if things had gone differently at Mercedes.”
His admission made your body heat up and the way he was looking at you didn’t help.
“Too late now,” you whispered and he shook his head.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from your hotel tomorrow afternoon.”
—————————————————————————
Lewis had texted you in the morning to wear something warm but casual so you picked out a soft white sweater to pair with jeans. After getting ready, you called the person that you needed to tell about this so that you could feel at ease.
“Hey y/n, what’s up? How was the event last night?” Nico said over the phone.
“It was good, everything went accordingly,” you replied nervous. “I talked with Lewis for a bit.”
The phone was silent and you sighed.
“That’s nice.” Your brother said tightly.
“He asked me to hang out while we’re both here,” you said quietly.
“Are you going to go?” He asked.
“If you don’t want me to Nico just say the word and I will cancel and we don’t have to ever discuss it again.”
The phone was quiet for a bit before he spoke again, “do you want to go out with him?”
“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “It’s complicated. I still remember what it felt like back then, and I haven’t had that feeling with any guy since. But then everything happened and it’s been almost ten years so I don’t know.”
“I don’t want you to put my feelings above your own happiness,” Nico said and you felt your eyes well up with tears. “Me and him are good okay? If you want to see where it goes, I’ll support you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I love you,” he said.
“I love you too, I’ll talk to you later.”
By the time you collected yourself, Lewis had texted that he was waiting outside so you headed down to meet him. He was standing outside his car, in a Tommy sweater, shades covering his eyes. His lips turned upwards as he saw you and he greeted you with a tight hug, kissing your cheek softly.
“Beautiful, as always,” he complimented and you smiled softly at him, blush filling your cheeks. He helped you into the car and you waited for him to get in.
“I thought maybe we could walk around the city and check out one of the art museums,” he suggested and you nodded. The car ride to downtown was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you stared out the window.
Cold air stung your face as you got out of the car but you didn’t mind, you loved the cold. You and Lewis started walking and small chatter took over the silence between the two of you. You told him about everywhere your job had taken you and what London was like now. He told you about some of the brand partnerships he was working on and how hard the last two seasons at Mercedes had been.
As you walked through the streets of Milan, you felt yourself relaxing more in Lewis' presence. His warm smile and easy conversation reminded you of the close friendship you used to have years ago, before everything got complicated.
"I've missed this," Lewis said softly as you strolled side by side. "Just talking with you, being around you."
You glanced at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I've missed it too," you admitted.
Reaching the art museum, you spent the next couple hours wandering through the exhibits together. Lewis was surprisingly knowledgeable about art history, and you found yourself engrossed in discussions about various paintings and sculptures.
As you exited the museum, the sky had darkened and a light snow was falling. Lewis gently took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. The gesture felt so natural, so right, that you didn't pull away.
“Why now, after all this time?" You blurted out.
Lewis was quiet for a moment before responding. "I've done a lot of reflecting lately. On my career, my relationships, the things that truly matter. And I realized that one of my biggest regrets was letting you slip away without ever exploring what could have been between us."
His words made your heart skip a beat. You'd tried so hard over the years to push down your feelings for Lewis, convincing yourself it was just a convenient crush.
“Lewis…,” you started but he cut you off.
“I want to try, y/n,” he said. “We can take things slow but I need to try.”
“Okay,” you whispered and he grinned.
————————————————————-
The next couple of weeks were spent texting each other back and forth; Lewis showered you with gifts sent to your London apartment: flowers, chocolate, food, and a paddock pass for the beginning of the season testing.
You ended up flying to Bahrain with Nico who had to be there for work and you could tell that he was still uneasy about what was growing between you and Lewis so you really didn’t bring it up.
Lewis was already at the track when you arrived, so you didn’t get to see him until the following day, which was fine by you. You needed a moment to calm your nerves and take in the environment. Anytime you had been at a race, it had been with a Mercedes pass around your neck, so Ferrari's red was a weird change. You ended up arriving at the same time as Charles Leclerc, whom you had met a handful of times over the years.
“Y/n, good to see you!” He exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Here with Nico?”
“Lewis invited me actually,” you said and his eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he said smirking. “How does your brother feel about that?”
You shrugged, “He’s trying.”
Charles nodded and fell in step beside you, insisting you find him to meet his girlfriend, Alex, later on. When you reached the garage, you saw Lewis already in his element, arms crossed, talking to an engineer while looking over the car. Hearing Charles talking, he turned his head and a smile broke out when he saw you.
“Hi love,” he said as he got closer to you.
“Hi Lewis,” you replied, reaching your arms around his shoulders. His own arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Ready for today?”
“Of course,” he said pulling back and smiling at you. “I’ve done this a couple of times now.
“Mmhmm, only a couple right?” You teased and he chuckled.
He led you over to near his car, finding a spot for you against the wall.
“I want you right here,” he instructed. “This way you are the first thing I see when I get back out.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, “such a charmer you are.”
“Only for you,” he teased back and you flushed. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
Testing was testing, and Lewis looked good to you; the team seemed happy in the garage, so you took that as a good sign. Sure enough, you were the first thing Lewis saw as he got out of the car.
“I have a bunch of meetings for the rest of the day, but I’d love if you’d join me for dinner with the team,” he said and you nodded, agreeing to meet him later. You left the garage to find your brother who was on a break from being on air.
“He looked good,” Nico said. “Weird seeing him in that car though.”
“I know, I really thought he’d never leave,” you said.
You and Nico chatted for a while longer about the day's testing before he had to get back to work. As you wandered through the paddock, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about dinner with Lewis and the Ferrari team later.
When evening came, you made your way to the restaurant where the team dinner was being held. As you approached, you saw Lewis waiting outside for you, looking handsome in a typical stylish Lewis Hamilton fit.
"There you are," he said warmly, pulling you into a hug. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," you replied, smoothing down your dress. "I hope I'm not overdressed."
"Not at all," Lewis assured you. "Come on, let's head inside."
As you entered the restaurant, you were greeted by the lively chatter of the Ferrari team. Lewis kept his hand on the small of your back, making sure you stayed close to his side. He let you pick where to sit and you sat across from Charles and his girlfriend.
The two of you hit it off, chatting throughout dinner with Charles chiming in or talking to someone else. Lewis was always quieter in big groups, so you were used to him silently observing. His hand rested on your thigh as he relaxed, gently tracing your skin.
Eventually, you got up to use the restroom, Alex following you.
“So how long have you guys been together?” She asked as you were touching up your lipgloss in the mirror.
“Oh we aren’t,” you replied to her surprise. “We are seeing where things go.”
She bit her lip, looking at you with a smile on her face.
“The way he looks at you,” she started and you met her eyes in the mirror. “It’s like no one else is there. Only you.”
You smiled to yourself thinking of that look you had caught on his face a couple of times tonight.
“I guess so,” you muttered lightly and she squeezed your hand.
Something shifted in you as you walked back to the table and you really looked at him as he lit back up at your arrival.
As you sat back down next to Lewis, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at you, the gentle pressure of his hand as it found its way back to your thigh - it all felt so right. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, drawn to his presence.
The rest of the dinner flew by in a blur of laughter and conversation. As people started to filter out, Lewis turned to you.
"Want to take a walk?" he asked softly. You nodded, standing up and saying your goodbyes to the remaining team members.
The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Lewis immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You walked in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company.
"I'm really glad you came," Lewis said eventually, breaking the quiet. "It means a lot to have you with me.”
You smiled up at him, feeling a flutter in your chest. "I'm glad I came too. It's been nice spending time with you again."
Lewis stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes intense. "Y/n, I know we said we'd take things slow, but I can't help how I feel. Being with you these past few weeks, it's like no time has passed at all. All those old feelings are right there on the surface."
Your breath caught in your throat as he gently cupped your face with his hands. "I'm falling for you all over again," he murmured. "And this time, I don't want to let you go."
Your heart was pounding as you gazed into his eyes. All the reasons you had pushed him away before seemed to fade away. This felt right. It felt like coming home.
"Lewis," you whispered, "I think I'm falling back in love with you.”
Instead of responding with words, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, moving your lips slowly against his as he held you close to his body.
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he murmured and you smiled softly at him. Holding his hand in yours as you walked back to the hotel. Love finds a way.
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