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number1jeonginstan · 7 months

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A/N: Based on my hard thought I made here!!!

WC: 2.4k

Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader

Warnings: oral (fem! receiving), unprotected sex, cum eating, changbin calling reader bunny, they didn't know each other before this, slight creepy behaviour idk!

Your body was sore, your muscles were tight and your entire body felt like jello. This usually never happened to you because you worked out every other day, but you were so busy with work the other day, that you didn’t have time.

You usually went to your friend's gym, 25 minutes away from your apartment. After all, you had seen this cute guy there, which you admitted was stupid because you barely saw his face, it was covered by a mask, but the way his muscles were taught and stretching out his compression shirt, his curly hair on the top of his head, you were whipped.

You had started going there every other day, hoping to see him, which you did almost 95% of the time. You never talked to him, but you did know his name, Changbin.

You overheard it from his friend who looked a chipmunk, with round cheeks and a small waist. And since then, you kept crawling back, hoping that he would start the conversation first, too scared to make the first move.

You entered the almost deserted gym, placing your water bottle and towel next to the Stairmaster, only to be met with the sound of the clanging of someone pushing weights onto a bar. You slowly turned around to be met with a man with grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt. It was Changbin.

You didn’t expect him to be in your apartment’s gym, hip-thrusting what seemed to be roughly 200 pounds. You stood there, in shock, at first mesmerized by the way his hips thrust the bar in the air, sweat dripping down his body, but at the same time, you were confused.

How was he here out of all places, did he live in your same building this entire time, and if he did, how did you not notice him? On top of that, why did he drive 25 minutes every single day? While you were racking your brain around all these questions, you didn’t notice how he looked up, taking a break from his set only to see you.

While you were having your crisis, he was just as confused. He had never seen you down here, he came on the off days of your schedule, memorizing it to a tee. He knew what days you went to that gym, what workout you were going to hit, and even how many sips of water you took.

That was how in tune he was with your gym schedule, it wasn’t perverted, right? He just took a liking to you, your laugh, your ass. Fuck, your ass, he groaned to himself taking a look at it.

You weren’t at the gym yesterday, so he couldn’t take any videos of the way it stretched out your leggings as you bent down to stretch or did squats. He loved the way you pouted when you had to adjust the weights because someone before you didn’t put it back.

You were just so cute, he couldn’t get enough of you, and now to think you were in the same building as him all along, he needed to know you better, to know what you smelled like, how you lived, and what your drawer full of workout clothes that you loved to strut around looked like.

“Hi, sorry to bother you” he walked up to you, his training belt still wrapped around his torso. “Could you spot me please, there isn’t anyone else in the gym, and I really could use the help because I’m about to peak”

“Oh yeah, of course, let me just put my phone down” You haphazardly put your phone next to your water bottle, and went over to where he was squatting, walking around the bar so you were met face to face with him.

“My name is Changbin by the way” he grinned, pulling off his mask and allowing you to see his face. He was one of the most attractive men you have ever laid eyes on. With a sharp jawline and a beautiful nose, you looked at him in awe until you snapped out of your trance as he coughed out loud, checking if you were ready.

“Ready?” he asked, a grin on his face as you nodded your head. He began to squat, your hands on the bar ever so slightly to ensure it couldn’t slip through your fingers.

He did 12 reps in one set, you knew this from constantly watching him. “I’m done with my set, do you want me to spot you?” he asked, a grin splayed on his face.

You nodded, ready to take the extra plates off the bar, but he stopped you. “I got it” he whispered, carrying them off and back to their place. How he knew exactly how much you squatted confused you, but you didn’t think much of it, rather setting yourself under the bar while he was in front in the same position you were mere moments ago.

“There we go” he grinned as you did your first rep, your muscles tightening seeing as it was your first time squatting in a couple of days. Your form was slightly off, causing him to tsk’ out loud. “Can I help you?” he asked, walking around so your back was towards his chest.

“Of course” you replied as the cool touch of his hands met your waist.

He slowly pressed his hands firmer into you, allowing you to complete another rep, his body bending with you, your ass pressing right into his crotch.

“There we go sweetheart” he groaned, feeling the plush of your ass hitting his cock. You looked back, watching his eyes flutter slightly at the sight of you. “Did you only do this to touch my ass?” you whined, trying to escape his grasp, placing the bar down.

“Come on sweetheart, we both know you only go to that gym for me” he replied, watching you through the mirror, your back still towards him. He slowly came closer his arms wrapping around your torso, kissing your slightly sweaty neck, savoring the taste.

“Please” you whined, his cock rutting against you through your leggings. He simply nodded, taking off his belt, throwing it god knows where before picking you up and placing you on a bench, your back arched in the air, your forearms and knees pressed against the bench.

“Such a perfect ass” he groaned, you shook it slightly in an attempt to entice him. “It’s all for you” you giggled as his hands ran over each and every curve of your hips and thighs.

“Such a pretty little bunny, all for me, even wearing my favorite color” he grins, taking in your bright pink leggings and sports bra. “I’ll wear it more often, just for you” you grinned as he slowly pulled down the pink pants down, groaning at the sight of your cunt.

You weren’t wearing any underwear, you never did at the gym, and for the first time in your life, it was a plus. Your pussy was soaked, your folds glistening under the gym light. Changbin slowly pulled out his phone from his pocket, taking a picture before throwing it with his belt and diving straight into your cunt.

He lapped at your folds savoring the taste as he slowly took your clit in between his lips, first kissing it, then sucking at it, eliciting the tiniest moans from your mouth. “Feel good bunny?” he asked straight into your cunt, the vibration causing you to jolt forward slightly.

“Feels so good Changbin” you whimpered as he slowly brought his hand up to your thighs, spreading your folds wider with his hands to get better access to your pussy. You were clenching around nothing, in need of more stimulation.

“Poor baby, such a pretty cunt, but needs more than my tongue doesn’t it?” he asked, your head turned back to look at him. You hummed a yes in response as he brought one of his fingers to your hole, slowly inserting it inside.

“Fuck bunny, you are so tight, how are you going to take my cock?”

“Gonna be a good girl and take it, promise Binnie” you whined as he thrusted his first finger inside of you, meeting a bit of resistance.

“You have to be relaxed for my baby, can you do that?”

“Yes Binnie”

You slowly felt your walls unclenching around his finger, allowing him to insert another inside of you, his fingers scissoring in your cunt to prep it for his cock. He knew that you wouldn’t be able to take it unless you were properly prepped, despite your whining that you could.

“Can take it, Binnie, I don’t need anymore prep, just need your cock please” you begged, needing to feel him inside of you.

“Be a good girl and take my fingers or you won’t even get my cock” he growled as he went back to lapping at your clit in hopes of making you cum to provide extra lubrication for his cock.

You nodded as his finger hit that spot inside you that drove you wild, your walls clamping around his finger as you came, your body shaking. He didn’t stop, overstimulating you as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you, lips still sucking your clit.

“Please, can’t take it anymore” you pleaded for him to stop, but he didn’t. He needed to consume every single drop that your cunt could give, it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

“You want my cock?” he asked your fucked out body as you slumped into the bench slightly, your body covered in a sheer sweat. “Please” you whined, not able to come up with a coherent sentence after cumming so hard.

As you regained concessions of your body, he pulled down his sweatpants, a patch of his pre-cum staining through his boxers and sweatpants allowing you to see.

“You weren’t joking when you said you were huge” You looked at him with your jaw drop. He wasn’t long by any means, but he was girthy. No wonder he told you he had to prep you, you had no idea how he was going to fit inside of you.

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom” he whined, stroking his cock to release some of the tension so he didn’t cum on the spot.

“You can fuck me raw, I’m clean and on the pill” You looked at him, your doe eyes pleading causing him to have an internal battle with himself.

“I’m clean too, but I just want to be sure, I don’t want to do anything you are uncomfortable with” he whined, not wanting to pressure you.

“Says the dude who just fucked me with his fingers so hard I almost blacked out in the middle of our apartment’s gym, just put it inside of me please, I can’t wait any longer” you whined, praying that he would fuck you.

With that confirmation, he slowly ran the tip of his cock along your folds, capturing as much of your wetness as he could before slowly stretching out your hole with his girthy cock, you moaned as he barely inserted the head inside of you.

“Is it good bunny?” he asked, running his hands along your thighs, making sure you were comfortable.

“So good, need more” you whine, pushing yourself back on his cock just slightly, the stretch causing you to moan loudly.

“You like it?” he whimpered, pushing the entirety of his cock inside of you, his hips pressed against your ass.

You could only moan in response as he slowly began to thrust his hips, slowly pulling his cock almost all the way out of your cunt, only leaving the tip before slamming back into you, the two of you moaning at the same time.

“Fuck bunny, it’s like your sweet little pussy was made for my cock” he moaned as you fucked yourself back on his cock.

“Fuck, keep doing that” he groaned, slapping your ass.

You moaned as you felt him hit a particularly deep spot inside of you.

“Going to cum soon bunny? Going to cum on my cock?” he whispered into your each, the new position causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, yes I’m cumming” you whined as he abused that spot inside of you.

It didn’t take him far to follow behind. “Fuck, going to cum, where do you want me to cum sweetheart?”

You quickly pulled yourself off his cock, turning around so you could suck his cock, sucking on the head slightly as your hands fondled his balls, his own hand stroking his cock, causing him to cum.

Your cum as well as his mixed in your mouth, causing you to moan around the tip of his cock. “Fuck” he groaned, pulling your head off of him. The two of you fell to the floor of the gym.

“Let me take you out on a real date? Please bunny” he whined, kissing your lips as you lay back on the gym floor.

“As long as there is good food” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his torso. “We should get up first though” he grinned, picking you up bridal style, causing you to squeal.

“Want to come up to my apartment, I can teach you new ways to work out your glutes” twirling you around, a boyish grin splayed on his face.

“I would love to!” you giggled back, as he grabbed your stuff in his hands, placing you back down on the floor.

—

“You should just ask her out” Jisung groaned, as he let the lat bar slip through his hands, “you’ve been fawning over her for months”

“You know what, I just might” Changbin grinned, walking over to where you were finishing your reps and kissing you right there and then.

Jisung’s jaw dropped, as Changbin walked with you hand and hand back to the lat pull down. “Jisung, meet my girlfriend” he grinned, your face splayed with a light blush.

“You have got to be kidding me, you pulled before I did” he whined, causing you to giggle.

“Yah!” he shouted, before chasing him around the almost empty gym, your giggle filling the void. Maybe skipping the gym was the best course of action.

#ju <3 writes #stray kids #skz #skz smut #straykids x reader #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz changbin #changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin smut #seo changbin x reader

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dtrghost · 1 year

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nibbles and kisses

this wasn't a request but this was inspired by something... i will simply not tell you what because shhhhh. In my opinion, König is a colonel, his ego is probably bigger than his dick and I don't see him as being as shy as i've seen, definitely has his aspects, but ya know.

könig x f!reader

no use of y/n.

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff with some NSFW so MINORS DNI and reader having self deprecating thoughts, possessive colonel, wants you and ONLY, you. there is no plot to this, called headcannons maybe? i just wanted to write this down. mentions of male masturbation, nudes of you, etc.

When König found you, when you finished your conversation that pushed just a bit too long and made him a few minutes late for his brief, he knew he had to keep you. When he witnessed your smile that brightened up his world and caused a warmth to rise up his neck to his cheeks hidden under the safety of his long mask, he knew, as you were the only one to peek through his proud manner. You were flawless to him, pushing aside all of your reasons why he should hate you, why you thought of yourself as undeserving of him, and showing you what his loved looked like.

When he touched you for the first time, feeling the softness of your skin grace along the rough pads of his fingers, god. His usual cocky demeanor cracked, staring at you with wide eyes as he relished the tingles that shot through his body faster than a bullet. From then on, that man was desperate. He craved your touch in any way, anywhere, any time.

Whenever you were in public, he was towering over you as his chest bumped into your back, his hands running up the smooth skin of your arms. hHe'd hold your hand while you walked even though he wasn't one for pda. On base he had a picture of you in his office, smiling a rare, delicate smile he snapped a photo of once that he immediately had framed, a beautiful gold that complimented you in your entirety. After all you deserved the best, even if you weren't there to see it. In spirit, in his mind, you were beyond worthy of it. Your merit was more than gold, more than anything.

The real winner was the locked drawer, a special key that he kept on him at all times to open it, revealing the drawer he dedicated to you when he was gone on missions. He'd always take something with him, a pair of your panties, a shirt that he sprayed every inch of in your perfume, a bottle of your perfume to respray it before he left and when he got back before he hid it again, and his favorite item. He took his time with this one, an album full of your nude photos, some of you fucked out and in a daze as you took his fat cock in you, stretching you to the brim as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in euphoria.

He'd whimper, he the colonel, whimpering for you. Your name breathed out of his mouth as he fucked into his fist, missing the warm tug of your pretty cunt that swallowed him greedily whenever he fucked you. But you did something to him, the thought of you made his skin tingle, his cheeks heat, shivers of pleasure, need, love and want to run up his spine at the very thought of you in his presence.

So when he got home? Shit. Buckle up. If it's the day, which is rare in his line of work, he'll call you beforehand.

"Get ready Meine Liebe, your colonel needs you."

He'd come home to see you in his favorite set of lingerie, leaning on the bed, ready for him to take you in however he needed.

But when it was at night, which was more often than its counterpart, he'd shower first, lock all the doors, close the curtains, it was a prep almost. Then he'd come back to your sweet small form, which is any form because he's 6'10 and 200+ pounds, and he'd coaxed you awake with soft kisses on your skin, starting from your shoulder and building up to your eyelids, feeling your lashes tickle his lips as your eyes fluttered open. He'd eat you out, getting off to the sound of your sweet moans.

He'd watch your head fall back in ecstasy as he curled his long, thick fingers in your sopping cunt, bringing you to more orgasms than you could count before he desperately needed to feel you clamp around his cock. Depending on how long he'd been gone, he likes certain positions over others. When he was gone for a long time, weeks, he would always favor missionary. He loved watching you cry for him, tears running down your pretty cheeks as he fucked into you, moaning as he watched you stretch to accommodate his length.

"Fuck, taking me like you were made for me. So ein gutes mädchen."

While yes, König loved making love to you, slowly, passionately, intimately, he was a man with needs. Whether it was day or not, he would fuck you, manhandle you, in any way he wanted.

"So needy for me Maus. Such a good girl for your colonel."

"You missed me mein leibling? you missed my fat cock stretching your pretty little pussy out? i know i did."

He would breed you, the mating press, all of it. He'd cum more than once too, until it hurt, because you just felt too good around him, the tightness of your hole constricting around him being enough to keep him going for what felt like forever.

But when he was done, oh the aftercare. He'd pepper kisses all over you, shower you, feed you and make sure you drink enough water, all while whispering sweet nothings to you, how pretty you are, how perfect you are. Then he'd take you to bed, laying on top of you, knowing that if anything were to happen god forbid, he would protect you, his frame completely covering yours. He coax you to sleep with soft kisses on your neck, your cheeks, your chin and your jaw, nibbling on your lobe with sweet words that carried you into a dream on cloud nine.

He loved you, he owned you, just as you owned him.

So ein gutes mädchen: such a good girl.

SO yeah. Colonel König 🫡. Gotta love him. Anyway hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!!

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frantic-fiction · 4 months

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What Once Was

Pic credit: iiven

Astarion x gn!reader/ gn!Tav

Summary: Astarion and you decided it was best to remain friends, following the fall of the Absolute, Astarion finds he is regretting letting you go.

Warnings: Angst, Angst with a happy ending, Astarion being bad with communication, Astarion is bad with feelings

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

"Astarion," Tav whispers, their breath warm against his ear as their fingers trail down his forearm, nails lightly scraping the surface. Hesitantly, they intertwine their hand with his. Their warm doe eye pierces straight into his, and he feels vulnerable under the intense stare. "I care about you, but maybe what you need right now is a friend, not a lover."

Astarion freezes his body still as a marble statue. Inside, his mind is a storm of confusion. Emotions he barely remembers flood him, swirling in a chaotic whirl that leaves a sharp ache in his chest. He gripped Tav's hands as if they alone were the sole thing keeping him bound to the material plane. Maybe in that moment, they were.

A friend?

When was the last time Astarion had a genuine friend? He doesn't know, but somehow, the word seems too mundane to describe the beautiful person in front of him. Tav, the first creature in 200 years of agony, showed him kindness and love, showing him that he was more than the mindless puppet Cazador molded him to be.

The topic was too heavy to unpack fully at that moment. Astarion had just tasted freedom. He was free of that monster and was learning what it meant to live again. He was too confused and broken to figure everything out, and so what more could he have said?

"I-I would like that."

***

A thunderous round of knocks pounds against the front door, jolting Astarion from his novel; he exhales a long, heavy sigh, flipping the page as he sinks deeper into his armchair. The crackling fire provides a once comforting backdrop, now barely audible over the persistent knocking. He tries to ignore it, his eyes skimming the lines without truly reading. But it's becoming harder by the second.

"Astarion!" Your voice is slightly muffled from behind the door. "Are you seriously going to leave me out here in the cold?"

"Where's the key I gave you?" Astarion calls out; his voice tinged with irritation. He remains firmly in his chair.

You're quiet for a moment. "I may have lost it, b-but it's not my fault, I swear!"

Astarion clicks his tongue, tossing the novel onto the side table, and moves to the door. "If only the history books knew the real hero of Baldur's Gate instead of their exaggerated grandeur." Unlatching the bolt, Astarion swings open the door with a smirk. You stand impatiently on his doorstep, arms crossed over something, lips puffed out in a pout. "If the world knew the real you, I doubt you'd have many admirers singing your praises."

You push past him, pressing a warm jar into his chest as you go. "You're just jealous I'm famous and adored. Now stop being mean to the only friend who puts up with you, you grump."

Astarion's heart clenches as he stares at the jar of blood in his hands. He watches absently as you flit around the room, tidying up the minimal mess he's accumulated since your last visit.

Friend.

The word stings like sunlight on his skin. A rock settles deep in his stomach at the reminder.

Astarion has many regrets, but letting you slip through his fingers is the one that haunts him most. If he could go back, he would pull you into his arms and never let go. He would whisper how much he loves you and beg for time because he can't imagine facing the darkness without his light.

But it is too late for that because how do you ask someone as bright and full of life as you to return to someone as broken and doomed to the shadows as him? Astarion has to settle for the barest comfort your friendship can offer him despite the pain that comes with it.

"Hey, Star, could you sew this button back on after your meal?"

Your melodic voice pulls Astarion back. He turns and heads to the kitchen, where you are already seated. It's only then that Astarion truly takes in your appearance.

Gods, you're beautiful. You're wearing clothes that perfectly accentuate your body, stirring a sense of longing in Astarion. You're even wearing the delicately embroidered scarf he hand-crafted for you last winter. Why did he let you go?

Astarion swallows hard and retrieves a chalice from the cabinet. "Of course, my dear."

"Thank you! I can't believe I popped a button."

Astarion pours the blood into a glass, watching the deep red liquid swirl as if it's the most captivating sight. His eyes flicker up briefly before darting back down. He asks carefully, unsure if he wants to hear the answer.

"What's the occasion?"

You drop your chin, a bashful smile tugging at your lips. You fiddle with the fallen button, spinning it on the table before slapping your hand over it and repeating the action.

Astarion takes a sip and waits. The sweetness of your blood coats his tongue, and he savors the mouthful. It's nothing compared to drinking from the source, but you felt it was best to do it this way. You said the prior act felt too intimate for two friends and blurred too many lines, and Astarion felt he had no place to voice opposition.

He takes another quick mouthful, knowing he only has so much time to savor the blood before it congeals into an unpalatable gel.

"I-I have a date."

Astarion chokes on the blood, pulling the glass from his lips as a fit of violent coughs overtakes him. An unsettling feeling churns in his stomach, making him feel like vomiting, but it's not from the burning in his throat.

"Is it really that surprising that someone would ask me out?" You scoff, taking Astarion's coughing as an act of humor rather than the painful surprise he's currently feeling.

"No-" Astarion wheezes through another round of coughs. "That's not-"

You come over and smack his back harshly. Astarion's unsure if it's to help him or express your anger, but the pounding against his back seems to finish his fit.

"I thought vampires couldn't choke," you mumble under your breath. He can hear the annoyance drip from each syllable.

"I am quite the unique spawn, it would seem." Astarion wheezes, slumping into the chair you were previously sitting in. You opt to lean against the counter away from him. "So… who is the special lady or gentleman who has captured the hero's attention?"

Astarion cringes at the hollowness in his voice. He doesn't care to hear the answer, and it's obvious. He doesn't care to hear you gush about whoever has captured your heart and will whisk you away tonight, ripping the last sliver of you he has left.

"Don't pretend to care." You glare, a scowl stealing away your beautiful smile.

"It's rather uncouth to assume your best friend does not care, my sweet," Astarion lies, hurting for all the wrong reasons, but you don't need to know that. "Now, are you avoiding the question because you're afraid I won't approve?"

"No," you respond, not meeting his eyes, opting to fiddle with the button again.

"Then out with it."

"Do you remember the bard?" Your smile says all he needs to hear. Your voice fades to the white noise of his mind.

Astarion feels like he's dying all over again. The damn bard, the suave casanova with a voice as alluring as his smile.

The two of you, Shadowheart and Gale, met at an old, bustling Tavern earlier in the month. Astarion had wished to stay home, but you all dragged him out of his house.

It wasn't a terrible evening; the wine was decent, and despite his best efforts, he enjoyed hearing what Shadowheart and Gale were up to. Astarion was having a good night. At least until the bard sauntered over with his brightly colored ensemble and his dashing smile, asking you for a dance. Astarion had hoped you would decline, but you bashfully accepted his outstretched hand and let the bard whisk you away.

For the remainder of the night, Astarion watched glumly as the bard swung you around the dance floor. He watched you giggle as you spun, dipped, and turned into his sturdy arms. He watched as you fell for his charms. Astarion felt what was left of his heart, the sole piece that belonged to you, crumble into powder. Because there you were, happy with a man who was everything he could never be. A man you deserved. A man with as much light and life as you.

Astarion left early, not wanting to see the love of his life slip further away, missing the crestfallen look that dawned on your lips the moment you saw Astarion slip out the back.

"Astarion?"

Your voice brings him back. And suddenly, Astarion realizes he can't let you go. He will lose you forever if you leave his home tonight; Astarion cannot live with that. He cannot live without you by his side. He cannot live without your smile, your laugh, and your touch, everything.

Astarion wants to be selfish and keep his light, even if that means dooming you to the dark.

"Don't go," he chokes out, voice cracking. Astarion is out of his chair and stumbling to your side before he can tell his legs to move. He's cradling your hands, his eyes pleading for you to understand the gravity of those two simple words.

"What? Why?" You balk, stepping back.

Astarion matches your step. "I think you know why, Tav," he says, his voice firm this time. He cups your face with his palm, and you inhale shaky, seeming to freeze under his touch.

"Astarion,"

"Stay," he pleads, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone, eyes burning with desperation and hope.

"Astarion," you say softly, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. "Why now?"

His heart breaks, feeling tears burn in his eyes, knowing he might lose you forever. "Because I can no longer pretend to be happy with just being your friend."

Astarion crashes his lips to yours before you can respond, pouring his desperation and passion into the kiss. You gasp, clutching onto his shirt in surprise before meeting his kiss with equal enthusiasm. He swears he can see stars and feel warmth deep in his chest. When he pulls away, he's panting, his eyes searching yours.

"I love you," he confesses. "Gods, I love you, Tav. I should have never let you go."

"Astarion, I-"

Astarion pulls you close, wrapping you in a tight hug. "Please, Tav," he whispers, his voice thick with tears. "Just stay."

"I'm not leaving," you assure, nuzzling in his hold. "I-I love you too. I've always loved you, you know that. But after everything, can we just...can you-" You pause, struggling to find the right words, torn between past traumas and new beginnings.

"I don't know," Astarion admits, "But I've never been more certain about anything than I am about you. The rest, we'll figure out."

And with no other words needing to be said, you held Astarion tighter, and he swore he would never let you go again.

This was heavily inspired by the fact I'm replaying bg3 (again) and romancing Wyll and went the friend route with Astarion. It was painful but I survived...mostly. Anyway, feedback always makes my day so let me know what you thought 🥰

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#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn! reader #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #reader insert #fanfic #frantic fiction

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dreamscribee · 5 months

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💎His Diamond💎

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

𓍯 Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

𓍯 Here's PART 1 and PART 2 - Don't skip ahead! Make sure you've caught up on the other chapters. This might be longer then the previous chapters, but trust me, it's totally worth the read!

𓍯 Summary: Lady Y/N, praised by the Queen for her grace and talent, captivates Anthony Bridgerton with her music at a lavish ball. Their emotional connection deepens as they share a heartfelt moment, signaling the beginning of a budding romance.

𓍯 Word Count: 750 (words), 4,174 (characters)

𓍯 This may be the final chapter for this romantic adventure with Anthony Bridgerton, but if we get this post at 200 notes, I'll take that as a sign to continue this story. Do you want to keep the love alive, dear readers?

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden hues across the bustling streets of London, Y/N found herself standing in the grandeur of the royal palace. Nerves fluttered within her as she awaited her audience with the Queen, her mind swirling with questions and anticipation.

When the appointed hour arrived, Y/N was ushered into a lavishly adorned chamber where the Queen sat upon her throne, regal and imposing. With a gracious nod, the Queen beckoned Y/N closer, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"Your Majesty," Y/N began, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart, "I am deeply honored by your request for an audience."

The Queen regarded her with a knowing smile before speaking, her words carrying a weight of importance. "Lady Y/N, it has come to my attention that you possess a rare quality—a diamond amidst a sea of gems. Your grace, wit, and the melody of your harp have not gone unnoticed."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she absorbed the Queen's words, feeling a warmth spread through her veins. To be declared the diamond of the season by the highest authority in the land was a validation beyond her wildest dreams.

With a graceful bow, Y/N expressed her gratitude to the Queen, her heart brimming with newfound confidence and purpose.

As the night of the ball descended upon London, the grandeur of the occasion seemed to pale in comparison to the radiance of Lady Y/N. Adorned in an exquisite gown that shimmered like moonlight, she took her place at the harp, fingers dancing across the strings with practiced precision.

As the night wore on and the ballroom swirled with the elegant movements of dancers, Anthony Bridgerton found himself utterly captivated by Lady Y/N. With each graceful note she plucked from the harp, she seemed to cast a spell upon him, drawing him closer with an invisible thread of enchantment.

Their dance carried them across the polished floor, weaving through a sea of swirling skirts and polished shoes. Anthony's gaze never wavered from Y/N, his heart pounding with a fervor he could scarcely contain.

"Lady Y/N," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "since the moment I laid eyes on you, I have been entranced by your beauty, your spirit, your every breath."

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of Anthony's words. She had known him for such a long time, yet in his eyes, she saw a depth of emotion that stirred something deep within her soul.

"Anthony," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, "I... I never imagined..."

But before she could utter another word, Anthony's hand gently cupped her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"Y/N," he continued, his voice now filled with a raw vulnerability that took her breath away, "in your presence, I have found a light that guides me through the darkest of nights. You are my solace, my sanctuary, my everything."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she gazed into Anthony's, her heart overflowing with a love she had never known possible.

"Anthony," she whispered, her voice barely a breath, "I feel it too. With every beat of my heart, I feel it too."

And as they stood there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by a love that transcended time and space.

It was then, amidst the whispers of love and the gentle strains of music, that Anthony dropped to one knee, a small heart shaped box nestled in his palm.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you stand by my side, not just tonight, but for all the nights to come?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she beheld the man before her, his eyes alight with love and devotion. With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his cheek, her heart overflowing with a joy beyond words.

"Yes, Anthony," she whispered, her voice a melody of love and longing, "yes, a thousand times yes."

And as Anthony slipped the ring onto her finger, sealing their love for all eternity, the world seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the dawn of a new chapter in their lives—a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the promise of forever.

#anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton

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sugarandspicewriting · 2 months

Note

Hihi!! I saw that you're taking requests? Do you think you could cook up some headcanons for your choice of DC characters with a s/o that really loves to do extravagant makeup? Thank you 🫶

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl Like Me

Summary: DC characters (Starfire, Wonderwoman, and Jason) react to your extravagant makeup

Warnings: Mentions of people making fun of you

Starfire (Koriand'r)

I imagine there are probably some kind of cosmetic routines on Tamaran, but the standards of beauty are different.

I think she would be interested to see what you do and why. She doesn’t judge how extravagant your makeup is, because her frame reference is skewed. All makeup seems extravagant to her

I do think she’d be horrified by fake lashes at first if that’s something you do.

“What are you doing, my star?”

“I’m putting glue on a fake lash strip to put on my eyes!”

“You… glue fake lashes on your eyes? But you already have eyelashes? How do you get them off?”

“I just rip them off-”

“What?!?”

Seriously we never talk about how crazy fake lashes are.

If you let her, she’d want to watch you do your routine and grill you on what you’re doing and why. It might feel a little weird doing your makeup and she’s just sitting there like :0

Don’t mind her, she just loves you.

Might make you feel bad about how little you know.

“So this liquid goes on your lips? What ingredients are in it? Is it safe to consume?”

Oof. Now I feel stupid.

After careful studying, she’ll ask if she can try

Let her do your makeup for you. A 6 feet tall lady pulling you into her lap and doing your graphic eyeliner under your instruction. Yes. Call me Homotron 3000.

Honestly it might be a little rough the first time but that just gives her an excuse to do it again

She will absolutely defend your makeup if someone comments on it. She considers what you do to be an art worth studying.

Scary dog gf privileges.

WonderWoman (Diana)

Fresh from Themyscira Diana might be similar to Starfire.

They didn’t have makeup, but they probably had morning grooming routines. She would have similar reservations about fake lashes and ingredients.

But if we’re talking about a Diana that has been here a while and is familiar with Earth culture, she’s probably more concerned about your why.

She questions why you do your makeup in this way.

But not in a judgemental way.

“Why is it that you do such exaggerated makeup? It is not how others do it?”

“I like how it looks”

“I see. It is pretty”

And then she’d go back to whatever she was doing.

She would find your makeup amusing.She finds a lot of what humans do amusing.

Like sorry we can’t all be blessed with beauty by the gods. Damn.

She would still defend your choices though.

If someone were to comment on it in a negative way with her around, all she’d have to do is give them a look and they’d stop.

Scary dog gf privileges part 2

Red Hood (Jason Todd)

Scary dog bf privileges but he’s actually going to bite people

Biting is more of a Damian thing but he will defend you.

Feminist king balances the “You look beautiful without makeup” and “I think your makeup is so cool” without being annoying. How does he do it?

He is friends with Artemis and Donna so he’s familiar with most of what you're doing.

He enjoys sitting with you while you do your makeup. His life has been so chaotic that little moments of calm and domesticity mean a lot to him. He might watch you and chat, but he might sit quietly and read a book or check his phone and enjoy the comfortable silence between you.

If you ask nicely he’ll read to you

If someone were to insult you for what you do he would not let that slide.

He’s not going to immediately escalate it to violence; mostly because he doesn’t need to.

He can do that teacher thing where he can just look at someone and they act right.

Because he’s over 6 ft and 200 pounds. It’s giving Bruce energy a little bit but don’t tell him that.

#dc x reader #batfam x reader #jason todd x reader #diana prince x reader #starfire x reader #red hood x reader #wonder woman x reader #dc comics x reader #batboys x reader

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brummiereader · 4 months

Text

MASTERLIST TRAILER

Uptown Girl (Part One)

Summary: When your high society life comes crumbling down around you. You are left to deal with the inherited mess your father's love of the casino tables had landed him in, and the gangster he had settled his debts with. Mr Thomas Shelby. But when heads butt during your first encounter with the notorious gang leader over the deeds to Arrow House. You both stubbornly refuse to back down, begrudgingly accepting each other as an unwelcome housemate. With your future on the line, and the arranged union you want to be free from rapidly approaching. You come to the quick realisation that if you can't force the blue-eyed squatter from your house, then you would drive him out. One way or another.

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of death by suicide

Word Count: 4535

Authors Note: £200-£300 sterling pound in 1924, was worth between £10000-£15000 in todays value.

"So it's agreed then, Miss?" the smartly dressed man with hungry eyes questioned you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he greedily beamed down at the delicate diamond necklace sitting on the plush red velvet cushion below it. "£200 for the Elysée necklace, and it's matching earrings?"

"£250 for the necklace alone, Mr Burton" you quickly corrected his value of the precious jewel sat in front of you. The last of your mother's cherished collection gifted to her on her wedding day.

" £300 for the lot" his eyes narrowed in on the lustrous stones adorned with a cluster of diamonds weighing down your ears. He would have the full collection, or nothing at all.

" Scandalous! " your Granny's voice quivered as she sat in the corner of your father's office. Exceedingly displeased with the intentionally low estimation of your family's jewels as her satin gloved fingers clutched tightly around her walking stick.

" It is but business, Mam" the Jeweler replied with an avid, gold-toothed smile. His arms flamboyantly hovering in the air as he bowed to the former Duchess of Arrow House with anything but the respect she was once shown.

" Hm!" your dear Grans voice hiccuped as she turned her head in displeasure to the gentleman who was a far cry from the considerate businessman he claimed to be. But rather, that of a man who had fallen upon a family's suffering through yet another death brought on by the woes of a troubled mind.

" £300 it is then" you announced with your head held high, removing the last remaining item of value you possessed from the soft lobes of your ears to join its sister necklace.

With reluctant hands, you gracefully placed each earring onto the cushioned fabric. The tips of your fingers brushing over the passing memories of you sat as a small child on the edge of your mother's bed. Mesmerised by her beauty as you watched her adorn her gown with each jewel that would accompany her on a soiree of dancing and champagne. They will be yours one day, my darling girl, her voice whispered to you like a passing summer breeze as you closed your eyes. The grief you still felt for her loss now weighed down with that of your father's recent death.

" Wonderful!" the Jeweler's voice snatched you away from your cherished memories. Snatching the precious stone from under your fingers and replacing them with a stack of King George banknotes." Pity old George couldn't help you out, hm?"

" Pity? Pity?!" your Granny's voice rose to a squeaky pitched tone of offense as her stern expression honed in on the jeweler that was about to get a good old-fashioned telling off. " Well I never. If you were any the wiser, Mr Burton. I would take your insolent, blithering..."

"Yes, thank you, Granny. Good day to you, Mr Burton" you interrupted your Grans inevitable barrage of flustered insults as you ushered the jeweler from the study. Saving him from not only her sharp words but your family's faltering reputation from another scandal you wished to avoid.

" Oh, how the mighty have fallen" the Jeweler's teasing words echoed back to your Gran still perched on the small cushioned chair, outraged by the sheer cheek of the man, when your brother loudly made his unwelcome appearance through the foyer.

" Mighty, and of good stock!" your brother cheered back, having heard only a portion of what was more of an insult than any compliment his far away thoughts had understood. " Oh, I say..." your brother's eyes widened at the large stash of banknotes stacked in a pile on the polished desk as he entered the room.

" Johnathan. What are you doing here?" you impatiently asked, snatching them away and swiftly making your way across the room to Frances waiting with your brother's shotgun he had lumbered her with by the door after a day of hunting stags on the property. " For the wages, and upkeep" you discretely whispered, handing the money to your most trusted employee with only one banknote remaining for your father's impending funeral.

" Oh sissy, how dire" your brother said upon seeing the lonely note being folded in your hand and safely into the pocket of your dress as he sat down, puffing on what was left of his cigar while eyeing up anything he could sell, having already squandered his estate on the inherited trait of your father that had gotten you into this mess. Gambling. A mess which was now, your burden.

With only a penny left to his name, your father played his last and final hand in the backstreets of London's grottyest alleyway. Foolishly putting all his remaining hopes on the copper coin to win back his wasted fortune. But when the dice turned against his favour, sealing his losing fate. Your father slumped to the muddy ground, removing his gun and shooting himself point-blank in the side of the head. Left to die alone in the dark, penniless. Your father had succumbed to the very thing he had wasted his life on.

" Again Johnathan, what are you doing here? Or rather, what do you want?" you sighed with crossed arms, kicking his muddy boots from the ottoman in front of him.

" Why is everyone so glum, and in black?" your brother huffed, looking around the solemn room that was once filled with gold ornaments and neatly categorised books you would spend your time reading quietly on the feathered cushioned settee as your father mulled over the odds for his next bet at the races.

" Our father still lies cold on the morgue table, Johnathan" you scolded your older brother. Ten years older, to be precise.

Wise beyond your years, an old soul. That's what those dearest to you would say. In reality, you were nothing of the sort. But rather forced into behaving for both you and your idiotic brother, who was intent on staining the family's name with his seedy lifestyle.

" We're in mourning Johnny, my dear" your Granny looked upon your brother with an unwavering sigh of both love and tolerance that only a grandmother would show for her half-witted grandson to whom she was forever bound too. " And preparation. For a dark day has come to Arrow House" she dramatically finished as she turned her head away in disbelief about the morning's unfolding events.

" Preparation for what, exactly ?" your brother asked obliviously, or rather ignorantly to everything that had unfolded in the weeks prior to your father's death.

"Preparation for him. Mr Thomas Shelby." Your grandmother's voice rose as she turned to her eldest grandchild. " The gangster!" her voice pitched to an even higher note as she clutched her chest in horror at the situation her son, your father, had landed you in with the Birmingham gang leader your Granny could only envision to be like that of the viscous darkly creatures she had read in her nightly novels.

" A gangster, you say? How thrilling. This place could do with a little fun" your brother replied, flicking a dusty lamps weathered shade next to him. His need to live life further on the edge than what he was already precariously sat on, horrifying your Grandmother for a second time. "Does this gangster happen to drive a Bentley?"

" Oh god, he's early. Why is he so early?" You panicked at the approaching sound of a car on the gritted drive as your flustered fingers fidgeted with your pearl necklace.

" A gangster with good time keeping, sister" your brother smirked as he watched you smooth down the front of your dress, your lips silently mumbling your practiced speech.

" Johnathan, would you please shut up and stop calling him that. Would you like to get us all shot, and join Daddy in the morgue?" you huffed as the irritated former child in you made an appearance to your only sibling, who was enjoying, as he always did, purposely annoying you to the point of a foot-stomping childish outburst.

" And he brings two accompanying gangsters with him. What a burly looking lot" your brother's eyes narrowed in on the three men exiting the car behind the tempered glass.

" Johnathan! Shu..."

"Children please. I'm far too close to my own deathbed to withstand your bickering. Must I endure it until that very day?" your Grandmother sighed as she slowly approached you, her hand closing reassuringly around your jittery fingers. " Head up dear, don't let him see you falter" your Granny encouraged you, patting your hand and any lingering doubts away. "Stand firm. You'll leave this manor in grace and class" she stated, head held high as her cane came down to the floor with a thud in a show of both strength and dignity as she took your brothers' steadying arm, and he led her into the foyer.

You'll leave this manor in grace and class, your Grandmother's guiding words sat with the uncomfortable lump of deception now forming in your throat as you followed behind her. For the days events were about to take a very different turn than planned. A plan in motion that neither your Grandmother nor this wretched gangster Mr Shelby could have ever envisioned. One that was imperative for you to escape the dreaded wedding arranged since your birth to the brute of a man you were promised to in one month's time. Cal Astor.

"Here she is, boys" Tommy said, stepping out of the car, lighting a cigarette as he looked at his newly acquired stately home. " Let's hear it then. What do you think?"

" Got nothing on Small Heath" Arthur sniffed as he squinted to the very top of the sturdy bricked mansion, cautiously weighing up its threatening statue. "Nah, give me Watery Lane"

"The mud and shit too?"John asked, twisting his toothpick between his teeth as his face scrunched up at the elaborate fountain of a large busted woman spouting water from her nipples. Your brother's only, and soon to be discarded, ghastly contribution to Arrow House. "Bloody toffs"

"Especially the shit" Arthur replied, checking the imposing house's stability with a firm slap to the bricked wall. "Go on then Tom, tell us aye. What poor bastard did you fool into giving this up?" he said before tipping his hat to one of the many garden staff now scurrying off to safety in fear of his kneecaps being blown off. The result of another mighty tale from your Grandmother's overactive imagination, that had undoubtedly stirred the staff of Arrow House into a dizzy.

"A rich old bastard who had reached the bottom of his pockets" Tommy replied, blowing a puff of smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Well, where is the poor fucker then? No grand welcome?" Arthur asked, offended the red carpet and all its thrills hadn't been laid out for their arrival for such a grand home.

"Dead" Tommy flatly stated as he approached the towering wooden door, ignoring any of his brothers assumptions that he was the delivering hand of that untimely death. "Right come on lads. Best behaviour, eh?

"Jesus, bloody, Christ" John huffed, flicking his toothpick into the neatly cut grass, wary of what his brother had gotten them into this time.

Stood in the foyer with your only two remaining family members, and the staff under your employment orderly lined up beside you. You waited. Listening to the footsteps of the man you had yet to meet, slowly approaching.

" Mr Shelby, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding..." you quietly rehearsed under your breath when a loud, heavy fisted knock rattled the foyer door. Startling both you and your Grandmother.

" Must he be so barbaric? This house does possess a doorbell! your Grandmother fussed as you nodded to Frances to open the door and have you face the inevitable you could no longer delay.

As the door slowly opened, a low, gravely voice greeted your housekeeper. Accompanying it, three smartly dressed men, each one sporting a peak cap. As your eyes darted from the youngest of the men in front of you to the tallest with a large moustache neatly trimmed above his top lip, they finally came to land on the man stood in the middle. His steel blue stare instantly locking with yours. It was him, Thomas Shelby.

A painfully awkward silence suddenly settled in the air when all thought drifted mutually from your minds. Embarrassingly halting either one of you from saying or doing anything. Leaving everyone present in an uncomfortable shared state of confusion of darting stares as they stood silently in the foyer.

Uncomfortable for all but two, that was. For something far more intriguing had unexpectedly sparked in the silence between the daughter of high society and the Small Heath boy from the hardened streets of Birmingham. A spark neither one of you expected to be ignited that day as your shared gaze remained fixed on the other and time suddenly seemed to dissipate, with everything and everyone around you blurring into nothingness.

That was until the echo of your Grannie's cane booming on the marble floor brought you and Tommy back to the present world.

" Mr Shelby..." you began, clearing your throat as you watched him remove his peaked cap, when your intended words escaped your thoughts once again to the man stood before you. A man not hardened faced, loud and savage like your Grandmother would have you believe. But a man with striking features and a magnetic, demanding stance. Quietly stood observing you. Patiently waiting for formal introductions like any gentleman from your world would do.

"Mr Shelby, welcome to Arrow House" you unexpectedly greeted him with a politeness you had been adamant on guarding as you tried to compose yourself after your state of, confusion.

Did you come with the house too?, Tommy thought to himself, as a curious hint of a smile etched on the corner of his lips for the woman that had suddenly captivated him. Oblivious to who you was, and the pounding headache you would soon create for him.

"I'm afraid...I'm afraid there has been a misunderstanding, Mr Shelby" you said, having finally recomposed yourself as you held your head high. Unwilling to, as Granny said, falter.

"Misunderstanding?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he cautiously stepped closer, sharply aware of your Grandmother's sudden snap of her head in your direction.

" I'm here to inform you, that the arrangement you had with my father is void" you cleared your throat, watching your unwelcome guests eyes pierce through the guard you had quickly shielded yourself with as he learnt of your connection to the former owner of the house he was stood in.

" Void..." Tommy scoffed, cocking a brow. His patience with you dancing around the subject and what you really intended on saying becoming tiresome.

" Yes. Void" you firmly stated, defiantly crossing your arms in reaction to his less than pleasant tone of voice aimed solely at you. Both of your unexpected allure with the other suddenly evaporating, and swiftly being replaced with a mutual irritation for one another as the bricked walls of control over the matter began to both mutually stack themselves high. "Arrow House was not my father's to give, Mr Shelby"

" That right, eh?" Tommy chuckled, as he looked back to his brothers shared amusement for your firm, but endearing stance." Then who's is it, sweetheart?"

" Mine" you coldly gave the delivering blow, severing his entertainment before turning on your heel and making your way up the long winding stairs as the staff and your flustered Grandmother accompanied by your brother hastily scattered from the foyer. Leaving Tommy's brothers in a fit of laughter while he glared at you from below on the marble floor as the overseeing eye of the iron-clad documents of Arrow House emerged from an adjoining room.

"Mr Shelby. A word, perhaps?"

" In her name?" Tommy confirmed, clenching his jaw fiercely together as he hunched over what was, for all intents and purposes, his desk.

" Correct, Mr Shelby" your newly acquired lawyer mumbled, nervously shifting his eyes to the two brothers stood uncomfortably close behind him.

" I saw the deeds myself. Watched the lying bastard put them in my name" Tommy lifted his head, pointing his finger accusingly at the lawyer he was now convinced was trying to pull one over on him, and delay his move.

" I don't doubt you, Mr Shelby" he stepped closer, and away from the two pitbulls breathing unnervingly down his neck. " You see, before the recently departed Duke died. The late mother of Miss Y/N Y/L/N made sure the deeds to Arrow House, and its land, were put in her name"

Your beloved mother. Born into a life of poverty not so different to that of Tommy's. She too, had worked her way up the precarious ladder of wealth, further cementing her future after accepting your father's proposal of marriage. But a life of financial worries had not escaped her when she began to learn of her husband's burning pockets, and his love of the casino tables.

In a desperate last attempt on her deathbed, and to guarantee you financial security, sparing you from a life of chains beautified with gold and satin ball gowns she never envisioned for you. Your mother, the fellow owner of your childhood home, had the deeds of Arrow House signed over into your safeguard, and away from the high rolling hands of your father and brother.

" For fucks sake..." Tommy mumbled with a hefty sigh, slouching down into his chair having realised the predicament he now found himself in.

" Really landed yourself in it this time, aye Tom?" Arthur couldn't help but give his younger brother an overdue sibling ribbing.

" Fuck off, Arthur" Tommy huffed in response, earning a snigger of laughter from both his brothers, who were more than happy to see him take a spectacular fall in his climb for the finer things in life.

" There is...something though, Mr Shelby. Something I could look into. For the right price, that is" the lawyer mused, his greedy fingers perching on the edge of the desk, now summed up on who the man was in front of him, and the depth of his pockets. No matter how tainted they may be. " There is a missing signature on the papers the late Duchess had filed before her death. The Dukes, missing signature. It will take some time to look into the documents' validity, but..."

" Get it done" Tommy interrupted the lawyer, ushering with his hand for him to leave before falling back into his chair with a chesty breath. Arrow House was his, he would make it so. One way or another.

After stewing over the predicament he found himself in for the better part of an hour. Tommy sat silent, weighing out the pros and cons of his next unexpected move as his stare honed in on the bronze statue of a stallion on his deck.

" What the bloody hell is he doing?" John impatiently mumbled to his eldest brother, who he himself was lost on what exactly it was Tommy was waiting for. " Tom, what..." John began to say when the office door flew open, and you came charging through. Your own patience with the head of the Birmingham gang's presence in your home wearing precariously thin.

" Mr Shelby, you've spoken with my lawyer. You know the terms of the deeds. Now I would ask you, kindly, to leave" you huffed crossed armed as you walked through the office collecting any remaining items of value in your arms. Cautiously aware of keeping them away from the three men's reputable light fingers.

" Y/N..." Tommy began as you sauntered past him, throwing the curtains open he had closed to dull the buzzing pain rattling in his skull you had welcomed him with.

" Miss Y/L/N" you were quick to correct him as Tommy ran his fingers down his face. His emerging eyes unable to divert from your swaying hips and flowing dress brushing past his leg, capturing his attention for a second time.

Watching you walk away was now, far more pleasant than having your angry frown storm towards him, Tommy thought to himself, clearing his throat as he looked at the pitiful lack of whisky in the decanter beside him. If you didn't have such a stubborn mouth, he'd be inclined to let your pretty face hang around, his petty ego nagged him. Irritated by the fact, he had lost himself in your beauty and allure in a brief moment of confusion earlier that day.

" Mr Shelby. Please" you gestured to the door as you stood defiantly in front of your father's mahogany desk, watching him brush his thumb over the muzzle of the ornament he had taken a liking for. " Mr Shelby..."

" I'm not going anywhere, love" Tommy finally spoke, looking up at your raging face as he picked up the weighty statue in his hand. " There seems to be a slight error on the deeds, Miss Y/L/N. A missing signature. Your father's signature" Tommy raised a brow as he pointed the ornament in your direction, unable to hide the triumphant smirk behind the smugness sitting on his face as he watched the realisation of your rapidly crumbling plan start to fall apart on your flustered face. "So until the deeds are reviewed..." he paused, turning the bronze horse to look at him. "Looks like you'll have to put up with me"

For the second time that day, you were left speechless by the stranger in front of you. This time, however, with a good dose of irritation spurring it on.

"Like hell I will!" You blurted, without a second thought for just how unladylike your reaction and the following response would look, when you reached over the table grabbing hold of the horse in Tommy's hand, and a childish tug of war ensued between the both of you.

" Fine" you huffed, blowing a lock of hair from In front of your eyes as you let go.

" Good" Tommy replied adjusting his tie as he sheepishly looked over to his smirking brothers, having witnessed the entire, amusing display.

"Keep it. A small souvenir" you pouted, pointing to the ornament gripped in his hand as you turned to leave, pulling a small cushion from under the bum of the youngest gangster as he sent a wink and cheeky dimpled grin your way.

" Enjoy your brief stay, Mr Shelby. And have no doubt. My lawyer will be urgently looking into your claims" you warned, clutching the handle of the door as you watched him rise from behind your father's desk and approach you.

"He already is, love. Paid him a nice sum of money to help speed things up" Tommy said standing uncomfortably close as he looked at you from head to toe, his eyes lingering on your plush lips.

A power unmatched. Money to buy his way through life. Something you knew would be dangerously futile in fighting with your lack of current funds.

" So be it, Mr Shelby" you succumbed to the situation with as much boldness as you could muster as you turned to leave. If you couldn't force him out, you would drive him out. One way or another.

Five days later...

" Good morning, Frances" you cheerfully greeted your housekeeper as you descended down the stairs in your nightie with a hop in your step, a bounce of your hair.

" Good morning, Miss" Frances swallowed heavily as her eyes darted to the grand clock ticking loudly in the corner of the entrance. Five days and counting. Five, obscenely early mornings, you had woken up earlier than the minutest chirp from any bird that had ever lived on the grounds of Arrow House.

" A little Beethoven this morning, perhaps?" you asked, perching yourself on the stool in front of the grand piano you had the staff conveniently move to the foyer. A spot that just so happened to be within close proximity to a certain someone's bedroom. " Any suggestions?"

"Fur Elise is a lovely piece, Miss. And you play it so well" Frances encouraged the mellow tune as her eyes darted to the top of the stairs, wary of the sleeping occupant only a stone throw away.

" It is. But I feel something a little more...rambunctious is needed to start the day. "Don't you think?" you smiled, turning the page to Symphony no5 as an amused smirk played on the corner of your lips whilst your hands hovered teasingly over the ivory keys, and you began to play. Loudly.

As the sound of your enthusiastic musical skills reverberated through the walls of Arrow House, a grunting Tommy stirred in his bed at the unwelcome shrill of the piano below him.

"Fuck sake..." Tommy mumbled incoherently, awakening from a deep sleep as he rolled from his stomach to his back. His eyes slowly opening, his ears tuning in. "Shut the...!" He grumbled, shouting the rest of his less than gentlemanly choice of words through the pillow he had grabbed to muffle the early wake-up call as he regained full consciousness. "FUCKKKK!" He roared from the pits of his lungs, when your continued playing only increased his irritation to a heightened, heavenly high.

Looking up at the landing stairs, a satisfied smirk grew on your face, hearing the beautiful barrage of curses from the unwelcome squatter in your home for the fifth day in a row as your fingers glided over the cool ivory.

Throwing the covers from him, Tommy grabbed his gun from the cabinet side table as he scrambled for his trousers, pulling them up as he stomped to the door.

" Seems Mr Shelby's awake, Frances" you spoke above the piano, as your loyal housekeeper nervously smiled to you, nodding her head. Readying herself for the fury of a thoroughly pissed off Tommy heading your way as his booming strides beckoned closer.

Encouraged by the sound of Tommy's door slamming shut, you continued your endeavour. Unbeknownst, that Tommy's hunched shoulders were looming over the banister. Gun in hand as he positioned his arm on the metal railing, aiming the end of the barrel directly at the woman whose sole purpose in life was to wake him up every morning with an insufferable racket.

"Don't move, darling" Tommy teasingly whispered as his eyes narrowed in, his breath steadying whilst he watched your fingers dance along the keys as he adjusted his shot.

As the sight of your lonely digit lingered over the next key, Tommy squeezed the trigger, shooting off the finishing note before you had the chance to give your triumphant end.

Leaping from the smoky crater now forever embedded in your grand piano, your eyes shot up to see your unwelcome roommate looking down at you with a cocky smirk as he shoved his gun against the naked skin between the waistband of his trousers.

" Morning, love"

NEXT PART

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