#Carry On Valentin's Celebration | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oreo-creampie · 2 months ago

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“𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤”

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫! - Ghostface gangbang (with one Michael Myers mask)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: celebrity!reader, guards! Toji, Sukuna, Choso, Satoru, Suguru and Kento, reader has healing abilities, knife kink/light cutting, no blood since reader heals, light bondage with chains, ghost face with one Michael Myers mask gangbang, you have tits for this, titty fucking, face/pussy slapping, pain kink, praise/degradation, pain kink, fingering/anal fingering, ass eating, face fucking/cock sucking, handjob, pussy slapping, toys, double/triple penetration, anal, hair pulling, spitting, spitting water in your mouth, cum swallowing, creampie, choking

𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 14 minutes - 4k (of mostly nasty smut)

Oreo: this has reminded me why gangbangs are my favorite

Your phone lights up with a text, your Mom sent you a link. Opening it brings you to a page with a bright bold red header where it proclaims ‘Single for 1 year?! She can’t seem to get a date and goes to dinner alone!’

You scroll to see the attached picture of you surrounded with by your guards. “Oh! There is a trashy tabloid going around talking about my dating life. Apparently I was alone last night cause all six of you don’t count!”

Toji shrugs a large shoulder, “Who cares if it looks like you’re single, they don't need to know the truth.” The end of his blunt casts a red glow on Toji’s handsome face.

You sigh and click on the appearing text bubble, “My Mom is caring otherwise she wouldn’t have sent me to link to it. Along with; I won’t judge your choices, though I am worried about you not pursuing a relationship. Are they just not for you or did something happen?” A large warm body presses you against the cold glass railing of the balcony. Warm large hands squeeze your hips.

You look up into Sukuna’s face, your head resting against his chest. “What are you gonna tell her?” Toji nudges Sukuna’s arm to get him to take the fat blunt.

Looking out at the city below. “I’m sure as hell not saying that I’m fucking all of the personal guards they hired for me and that y’all cock-block any dating opportunities that come my way.”

He grabs your hair yanking your back holding the blunt to your lips. He sneers, “We do plenty of sharing between each other. Who else could you need.” Sukuna pulls the blunt away, and you blow a large puffs of smoke into the night’s sky.

Toji adds on, “‘Side we all cuddle you, take you out on dates, we switch out who sleeps in the bed with you. You had six different valentines.” He leans against the glass railing. Tugging on your robe’s ribbon causing it to fall open.

Satoru announces, “Oo someone tweeted what if she is fucking one of the guards. She close, but it isn’t just one, you’re too much of a cock hungry whore for only one.” Leaning up against the glass on the other side of you Satoru joins Toji in fondling your soft breasts. Swirling his soft thumb over your nipple, getting it hard.

You’ve been waiting all day to be sandwiched in between your guards. With one pressing their hard cock into your lower back while two play with your tits. You slowly inhale the harsh smoke from the blunt that Sukuna holds to your lips.

Suguru looks at Satoru’s phone then lightly hits Satoru’s shoulder.“You should unlike it they’re gonna think it’s you, that choice is up to her, if she decides to make it.” Taking the short blunt from Sukuna to puff on.

Satoru rolls his eyes before removing his like, “Ok ok.” Sukuna roughly smacks your ass and steps away for Satoru to sweep you off your feet.

You think about it aloud, “If they got a screenshot of that then my actions with all you are going to be heavily analyzed.” Spreading your fingers out on his chest, looking up at him as he carries you to the sex room. “Especially with you, going out the two of us is gonna be seen differently, tea channels are gonna have a field day.”

Satoru smiles, “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy seeing some of the shipping content out there.” A few of your fans had created some fanart of your guards and you. Which you saved to your phone.

He points out, “This will only give them a little fuel for their ships.” He kisses the top of your head and you’re wondering if you should play into it a little.

You admit, “Is is a bit fun to see. And who could blame me, especially with how unprofessional three of you were from the start, my pussy didn’t stand a chance.”

You dig your painted nails into Satoru’s chest, leaving bright pink lines. “It’s mostly your fault, you were the first one.”

Satoru teases you, “The way you were practicing drooling over me after I unbuttoned my shirt a little too cool off had me wanting to put your pretty mouth to use and I’ll do it again.” You bite his chest, his hold doesn’t waver but his pace does as he moans.

Sukuna walks past and pushes the door open, “Let’s go ahead n’ tie her up with some chains.” When Satoru carries you throug.

Kento and Choso have a ghost face mask on. Are they all going to be wearing one? Your pussy hopes they do.

Satoru drops you on the bed, straightening you out on your back, folding your legs by your side. Kneeling at the edge of the bed to kiss your wet cunt. Gliding his tongue in, you slip your hands into his soft white hair.

Suguru walks up, mask on and with the Michael Myers one in hand. Which Satoru pulls away to grab when Suguru nudges him with it. “Happy early Halloween, it’s close enough right? I figured why not do something a little seasonal.” He climbs onto the bed and yanks you into the middle by your hair.

Kento gets on the bed next to you, his hard cock swinging, you love how he’s so heavy he hangs. His voice is soothing, “What do you think about this?”

You gently grab Kento’s thick cock swirling your thumb on his cockhead. “I wanna be gangfucked till the sun rises or I pass out.” You kiss the freckle close to his pre-cum dripping slit you adore.

Satoru praises, “‘Course you do beautiful, we are gonna fuck your pretty ass stupid.” Satoru straddles your neck and part of your face. When you look down all you see are his balls.

He squeezes your fat, soft tits together with his cock in between. “Pour some lube on her tits for me Choso.” His balls are so close to your face. Lifting your head up to lick and suck on Satoru’s nuts.

Choso joins you on the bed whilst reminding you. “You’re safe word is melons remember to say yellow if you need us to slow down, and red for a break.” He grabs your hand, pouring lube into your palm. Then guiding your hand to his cock for you to stroke.

You hold your other hand out for some lube to jerk Kento off. Choso then squirts a generous amount onto your breasts. It slowly drips until Satoru smears it with slow strokes of his cock.

Satoru groans, “I want to cover her in cum, her beautiful face, soft tits, squishy thighs and her gorgeous cunt.” Slowly fucking your beautiful soft breasts. Whilst enjoying your warm mouth on his soft balls.

Jerking Choso and Kento off, swirling your hand slowly along their cocks. Swiping your thumb over their heads and keeping your pace steady.

Sukuna groans, “I’m fuckin her beautiful, sofa ass into a gapping mess. Seeing her in that skin tight gown all night, I know y’all know what I’m talking about.” Two different hands spread your legs apart, one rougher than the other. “Makin’ her ass look like a delicious peach.”

Arching your hips down from the sudden intense vibrations from toy on your clit. Laying your head back on the bed with a loud moan. Another hand presses on your stomach keeping you still.

Your thighs tremble, and your cunt quivers when you feel a wet tongue swirl around your tight asshole. “Nnnn! Plug your cum inside my ass when you’re done.” Moaning as he quickly pushing his tongue in to you. Both of your holes clench as you feel two small, smooth warm metal balls of Sukuna’s tongue piercing.

Satoru ruts his hips faster, gliding his long cock between your soft fat breasts. Squishing them together with his large hands, his groans are loud and breathy.

You love hearing all of them groan, moan, and whines as they enjoy themselves. If they weren't there you could masturbate listening recording to the sounds they make when they cum.

Whining, “It’s too much!” The pressure is intense, you’re unable to pull your hips away they follow your clit with the toy.

You can hear the jiggle of chains as the bed dips with someone’s weight.

“But I just started, how could it be too much already?” The condescension dripping from Suguru’s tone has your cheeks burning. “Besides isn't this what you wanted?” Suguru slowly swirls the toy increasing the pressure till it borders on painful.

Toji says, “Go ahead n’ tie the chains around her tits and neck.” Satoru smothers you with his balls by sitting on your face. Wrapping your breasts by coiling the chains around them once. Then moving back wrap it around your throat. He tugs on both ends squeezing your neck and tits.

Kento grabs your wrists, using your hand to get themselves off. Kento’s guides your hand slower, as he massages your breasts. His gentle touch is always a wonderful contrast to how rough the other’s get.

“I can't believe I'm getting off on this, I've become a dirty old pervert for your beautiful tits and soft pussy.” It made Kento’s cock rock hard seeing the chain wrapping around your tits, squishing the plump fat, whilst restricting some blood flow. You had corrupted him.

Choso groans, “Your hand feels so soft on my cock.” Grabbing your fist to keep it still so he can fuck your hand. Gently rubbing your hard nipple with his thumb,

Satoru pulls the chains again strangling your cry and pulling your body taunt. Your hands pause as you try to focus on not squeezing Choso and Kento.

“Don’t yank on her too hard, the chains are already harsh.” Kento drags a finger along the chain wrapped around your breast, feeling the soft fat spilling over.

Satoru eases up, but keeps the chain tight around your throat. Smacking his long, pale cock on your face whilst you suffocate. Rubbing his cock head along your lips, his pre-cum tastes so sweet. Opening your mouth, Satoru glides his cock in quickly.

Choso grabs the chain from Satoru’s hand, “Deep breaths.” He waits for you to catch your breath. Peeling up his mask to softly kiss you, sliding his tongue past your lips when you moan.

Satoru groans stroking his cock next next to your face. “The camera is recording what a whore you are. We are going to show you tomorrow, have you ride a dildo, and play with your asshole while you watch it. How does that sound?”

Choso lifts his head, holding his cock near your face. “Can you deep throat my fat cock with your pretty mouth?” You kiss his cockhead before softly licking up the mess up pre-cum. Then taking him deep into your mouth with a loud groan. Fondling his large balls with one hand.

Satoru jerk his fist faster watching you suck Choso off. “You’re such a good lil’ cock sucker. Are you getting off having Choso’s fat cock in your mouth while Sukuna eats your ass.” You groan to respond, closing your watery eyes.

You switch in between licking and sucking on one cock to pay attention to the other. Resting your tired hand on the bed, before giving up on moving your head too. As Choso and Satoru turn your head from side to side, taking turns fucking your mouth.

Kento slides your hand off his cock to rub himself against your plump, soft breast. “I’ll give you a massage after being a good girl for us tonight.” Nudging your fat with his fat cock head, smearing pre-cum on you.

Kento guides your hand back to his cock. “Before we take the chains off I want to take a picture of you laying here looking sexy covered and dripping cum. I can’t get enough of seeing you looking fucked out.” It’s one of the main reasons he got hooked on joining in on the planned gangbangs Satoru would get the other’s in on.

Two thick fingers into your dripping wet cunt with a soft squelch. “Look at this, she’s already soaking wet, you’re a depraved whore say it.” Toji’s deep voice is unmistakable. Your soaking wet pussy quivering around his thick fingers as the pressure and pleasure build in tandem.

Satoru nudges your cheek, smearing some pre-cum on it. Choso glides his cock out with a loud pop. “I’m a depraved whore, I love being a dirty slut please use me to help you cum.” Turning your head taking Satoru’s cock. He smacks your lips then sets a quick and merciless pace, gagging you with his long, veiny dick.

Suguru rubs your clit a little faster, easing up on the intense pressure. Working with Toji to get you off while Sukuna enjoys himself with your ass. Holding out three fingers prompting Choso to grab the near by bottle of lube to pour some onto them.

Your ass stretches for three thick probing fingers that can reach deeper than his tongue can. Scissoring his fingers apart rough, pumping them quickly, making your body slightly bounce.

You’re getting off on how six muscular masked men are entertaining themselves with your ass, cunt, clit, tits, hands and mouth. You’re hoping they trap a mixture of their cum inside you with a plug.

Toji points out, “I think she’s gonna cum n’ so fucking quickly. I don't think she should cum yet. No reason why other than fuck her.” Suguru lifts the vibrator off your clit as Toji glides his fingers out.

Sukuna keeps playing with your ass, it’s enough that you can taste that sweet peaking orasgamic high of cumming.

Sukuna mocks you, “You’re a dirty slut, look at that! The bitch kind of came anyway.” some creamy cum drip from your small quivering hole he sneers, “Looks like you only ruined it for her.” He pinches your sensitive clit making your hips jerk back. Stuffing some of your slick into your ass with each pump of is thick fingers.

Toji states, “She deserve it for being a filthy whore.” Someone smacks your cunt, once, twice, you stop counting after the fourth. Trembling you have to fight the urge to twist your hips away as your cunt stings.

Choso croons, “Are they being mean to your pretty cunt?” He leans down “She was good and took all those hits we should let her cum.” Satoru pulls his Michael Myers mask up to spit on your face.

Suguru holds the pulsing toy to your stinging, throbbing clit. The sweet pleasure easing some of the stinging pain. You focus on each quick circling motion of the toy eager to cum.

You’re begging them, “I wanna cum! Please lemme cum! I wanna make a mess!” Whining as the three thick fingers in your ass glide out.

A pulsing thin toy nudges your wet hole, which easily gives for the toy. It’s size getting thicker the more you take. Till you reach a thick knot that won’t slide in easily. Causing him to have to use a little more force.

Arching your hips, your eyes sting with tears as your ass throbs from taking the thick knot. “I hope that fuckin’ hurt dumb lil slut, I wanna see and hear you crying! Your ass looks so hot taking all of it. I wonder,” he tugs on the toy’s short stumpy handle. The knot isn’t budging, tugging on your ass, too thick to slip out like his fingers did.

Your thighs are burning as they tremble. A large hand on your stomach keeps you from moving too much. They are all working in together to keep you from getting away.” Choso straddles your neck fills your mouth with his cock. Abandoning the chain leash as he grabs your hair and fucks your throat.

You can’t tell who wraps your hand around their thick cock but you don’t care. You too drunk off the overstimulation to focus on moving your hand. So they jerk them off, swirling your fist, swiping your thumb over their cock head. They’re so warm and heavy in your palm, you want them inside any of your wet holes.

Your moans creating pleasurable vibrations that make him messily rut his hips. “Nnnn when she moans goddamm, I wanna cum in her mouth.” He fucks your moan faster, gagging you when he gives you all of his cock. Choso is so much thicker than Satoru, making it harder to deep throat him.

Satoru suggests, “Let’s play a game she has to guess whose fucking her from the back. Then she can cum.” Choso glides his cock out, Kento let’s your hand go, Suguru lifts the toy off your clit causing you to whine.

Choso carefully gets you on all fours, then orders you, “Keep your eyes forward you can suck Kento and I’s cocks but don't cheat by peaking.” He moves over for Kento to kneel beside him. Just having their large cocks in your face shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. You feel like such a dirty, cock hungry slut.

Holding both cocks, moaning as you give Kento attention. Closing your eyes and enjoying feeling his thick cock slide along your tongue. His head nudging your throat, going deeper till you’ve taken every inch.

You hold your head still letting Kento enjoy the wet, tight warmth of your throat. As it squeezes him, your body softly jerking as you gag.

Kento moans, “Nnnn fuck me that feels so gooood when you take me just like that. You’re so beautiful, nnn,” bobbing your head, quickly taking Kento’s fat cock. “wrapping you pretty lips, hhhhn sucking me off like you need my cum.” Gliding him out with a loud pop and kissing beneath Kento’s cockhead.

A cockhead too fat to be Satoru’s lines up with your cunt. Your thoughts linger in between Toji and Suguru when you don’t feel Sukuna’s piercing beneath the large cock head.

Kento slowly rocks his hips, slowly fucking your wet mouth. Causing spit to drip down your chin which smears onto his balls when they brush against.

A cold knife drags along your cheek, causing you to tense up then squirm. The cut heals seconds after he creates it. One, two three and fuck! You’re so full of someone’s thick, veiny cock.

You’re sandwich in between Kento, Choso and one of your guards. The thought of that is getting you. toy for them to fuck until their balls are empty.

Clenching the fat cock whilst listening for a single groan or any vocal indication of who is fucking you. As they slide the knife across the bottom of your back.

If they would groan once you would know if it’s Toji or Suguru. You focus on the way their fucking you to try and decide between the two. It’s hard to focus for too long, whoever it is hitting your soaking wet pussy in a perfect, eye rolling, toe curling and pussy clenching angle.

He grabs the short handle of the toy vibrating in your ass. The thick knot slides in and out of you a little easier after your asshole got used to it.

Slowly glide the blade along your thigh and stuffing the toy in deep, the vibrations pulsing stronger than before. He made it intense, you swear you can feel it in your cunt.

Smacking your cheek with a large hand, the strike is to quick for you to get a good judge off whose hand it is.

Kento’s pace is getting sloppy, as he ruts into your mouth a little faster. His broad shoulder curling in as he trembles. His tight tensing up as he bites his bottom lip. Thick warm cum spurts into your mouth, he tastes so sweet, it’s so thick and creamy on your tongue.

Stuffing his cum into your throat with a messy thrust then gliding his cock out. “Thank you darling, l needed that.” Choso moves over as Kento leans down, grabbing your throat. His thick fingers pressing the chains into your neck as he lifts you up to kiss your forehead.

You can’t glance behind you in time before Choso stops you from breaking the rule. As Kento gets off the bed slowly pulling off the mask, and taking a seat to watch.

You whine, “Not fair, moan once! Say anything!” You bounce back, pressing your ass and thighs flush against him. The thighs pressing against your’s are thick, with muscles too hard to be Suguru. He is incredibly well built, but Toji’s muscles are something else.

The muscles of his arms, thighs and abs had a harsh rigidness the other didn’t. His body feels like a greek statue that’s has life breathed into it. With a waist that feels too damn slutty.

You whine, “Toji!” He grabs a handful of your ass and the roughness of his hand lets you know you’re right. Your body roughly rocks forward with his next harsh thrusts.

Toji groans, his deep voice sounds so damn good when he’s getting off. It’s a smooth, deep sound that is the cherry on top.

You’re squirting on Toji’s far veiny cock. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The toy vibrating in her ass fuck I can feel it. Fuck it’s like her pussy is a vibrating toy clenching me. So fuckin’ wet!” He pumps the in your ass in time with thrusts, his strength keeps the toy’s knot from catching.

His fat cock twitches slightly, and the pulse in his veins feels like he’s throbbing inside you. “Nnnn I want someone to fuck his cum into me. Please lemme cum on your thick cock too.”

Sukuna declares in confusion, “Was that cheating?!”

Satoru defense your case, “We only said she couldn’t look back, using her body to feel up Toji isn’t against the rules. Meaning our chain bound slut gets to cum on our cocks tonight.”

“You’re going to bully her anyway.” You glance over at Suguru, a blunt between his lips, and his dark hair pulled back. With a few locks of his bangs framing his handsome face.

He winks, snuffs out the blunt and pulls his mask on. “Let’s switch.” Toji slowly glides his cock out smacking your cum dripping cunt with the flat of the knife.

Toji groans, “Her slutty lil’ cunt looks so good dripping my cum.” He dips his head down and glides his tongue in. “What a messy pussy squirting on me like that.” He stretches your hole apart to see how his white cum looks against the pink insides of your pussy. Before walking off, the blunt that Suguru ashed out on his mind. Passing the knife to Sukuna.

Choso grabs the chain leash and says, “Wrists behind your back.” He carefully binds your wrists, making your bsck softly arch, pushing your bound breasts forward.

Sukuna roughly yanks the toy out of your ass. Replacing it with a different one, the wildly vibrating model made after his cock. He orders, “Sit up, let Choso get underneath you so he can use your pretty cunt to get himself off whilst I double stuff your ass.”

Sukuna smacks your ass, grabbing the long chain between your neck and shoulders. Yanking you upright before you can move for yourself.

Choso leans back on his heals, thighs spread apart letting his heavy cock hang in between. “I want her to myself when y'all are done.” He gets off the bed and takes the blunt Toji passes.

You ask Choso, “What are you planning for me handsome?”Watching him jerk his cock slowly. His cock with it’s far head, upward curve and two puffy veins is pussy watering. Especially when he slides his hand down and his heavy, long cock start to droop. He’s perfect cock is so heavy, long, and thick.

You’re folding at the sight Choso with his ghost face mask on, his broad muscular chest, hard abs, and thick, pale tattooed arm. Choso looks good manspreading, his thighs are perfect to ride.

Sukuna stuffed ass with his fat cock makes it nearly impossible to listen to Choso explain, “You want some ghostface roleplay, how can I tell your pretty self no? I'm going to chase you around then pin you down and fuck you at knife point for a happy early Halloween.”

You look up at Sukuna’s masked face when he loudly moans, “You’re right, fuck n’ I thought she was like a toy before hand. But this, her vibrating double stuffed ass clenching my cock is gonna make me cum too quickly.”

Suguru climbs into the bed laying down and holding his cock up. “Let me feel our slutty mama’s pretty whore pussy on my fat cock. Sukuna holds a knife to your throa, taking the moment to himself to roughly fuck your ass.

Suguru strokes his cock, watching as the tears slip down your cheeks. Your pussy is dripping Toji’s cum as Sukuna pounds your ass. “She looks so hot when she’s helpless.”

Sukuna grunts, “It’s not enough, I wanna break her, fuck her ass till she can't move..” Sukuna digs the knife’s tip into your throat, blood slowly trickles down before he eases up.

Satoru chimes, “Tell me whose cum taste better, Kento’s or mine!” Whilst joining Sukuna, Suguru and you on the bed.

Kento passes Satoru a water bottle, his cock already half hard. “Since you like spitting so much you can spit some water into her mouth first.“

Sukuna encourages, “Fuckin cry you stupid sexy lil brat!” He slides the knife across your throat, over your shoulder and down your side. He drags the knife in a swirl over your cheek, your healing keeping up with as fast as he can cut. The stinging like the cut is fleeting, reigniting when he smacks your cheek with the large knife.

Sukuna drops the knife to folds your legs by your sides. Stopping with his cock balls deep and the toy still vibrating inside you. He makes you take Suguru’s thick cock in your sore sensitive cunt quickly.

The combination of their cocks and the toy stretching the skin between both holes taunt. They aren't moving and you’re already on the verge of overtimulation. Suguru slides his soft hand up your stomach towards your breasts.

You look down at Suguru, you can't get over how hot they look in their mask. “I want all six of you to stage a break in and then use me wearing these mask for the festive Halloween season is over.”

Suguru croons, “You’re such a dirty slut for us. You want it even rougher and nastier don't you?” You’re squirming on Sukuna’s and Suguru’s fat cocks. Rubbing Sukuna’s cock piercing inside your ass.

Suguru strokes your clit with his thumb. You’re still so sensitive from squirting on Toji’s cock. Both holes quiver clenching Suguru and Sukuna large cocks.

Sukuna lets both of your legs go, grabbing the near by knife. Gliding it along the harsh chains leaving imprints on your soft breast. Dragging it up the supple curve, Sukuna presses the tip into your sensitive nipple making you squirm.

Satoru drinks some water, squishes both cheeks with one large hand then spits water into your open mouth. The second you swallow it and open your mouth for more Sukuna yanks your head back.

“Hurry and pour it in her mouth.” His rough thrusts are slowly picking up pace. He can't wait any longer, your soft wet ass is clenching his cock begging him to fuck you.

Sukuna’s cock is wonderfully punishing. Stretching and slamming into you with toe curling, body quivering strength. You love how Sukuna fucks you like a toy.

Satoru pours water into your mouth, some of it trickles down your chin and neck as you do your best chug. Whilst Sukuna drags the sharp blade along your soft nipple. You choke and before you can regain your breath Sukuna is shoving over Suguru and Satoru is stuffing his cock in your open mouth.

Spit drips down your chin as he roughly fucks your throat. Gagging you and crooning “Aw she’s crying how fuckin’ hot, look up at me.” You do your best to look up at Satoru’s white mask, his bright blue eyes not covered by black fabric.

You get glimpses of a feral, hungry and playful looking in his piercing blue eyes. You would beg for him to keep fucking you till his balls can't make anymore cum if it wasn't for his cock in your mouth.

It feels so good to have three handsome masked men roughly fucking you. You’re their cum and cock hungry slut. It’s the only thought going through you head.

The wooden frame of the bed groan in protest as they roughly fuck their hard, throbbing cocks into you. Suguru’s fondles your sore breasts, squeezing your side gently. Whilst mercilessly fucking up your sensitive squelching pussy.

You’re quickly losing the ability to think. Why should you anyway when all you need to be is their cock drunk whore.

Suguru brings up, “Let’s place bets on long she can last before the six of us are too much for her. After Choso we can pass her down the line until her slutty ass n’ cunt can’t handle anymore cock n’ cum.”

Oreo’s m.list

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months ago

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hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him.

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened?

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough.

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop.

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes.

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him.

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was.

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again.

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again.

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table.

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world.

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms.

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now.

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fanficimagery · 8 months ago

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The Nanny

When babysitting your neighbor's kid, trouble seems to find you.

Author's Note: SOA AU - No Tara, Clay, or Gemma. Trigger warning for violence! This was supposed to be up for Valentine's Day, but as you can see... that wasn't the case lmao.

Charming, California is one of those picture perfect little towns where everyone tries to be prim and proper, and act like their shit doesn't stink. And in the short time that you've lived here, you quickly realized that the law-abiding citizens hated the fact that Charming was home to a MC, the Sons of Anarchy.

It doesn't bother you to see them riding down the streets as you're out and about, but you do find it hilarious that a majority of the locals either gasp in outrage upon seeing the bikers or avoid them at all costs. You find the bikers very easy-going, but then again the club president is your neighbor.

Jax Teller had taken it upon himself to introduce himself when you were moving in, carrying boxes for you and flashing a rather charming smile as he pumped you for information about yourself. You knew what he was doing, and it was rather laughable, but you had nothing to hide and were a rather boring person, so you gave the information freely. Between the two of you, he was more interesting as a MC president whereas you stayed home and lived off the money your brothers made. Jax seemed interested in what your brothers did for a living that they were able to provide you with the life you have, but you explained they made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile. You helped them with scheduling, but they still did a majority of the work.

Finding out Jax has a son (Abel) makes your heart warm towards the biker, and then warm up to the club when his brothers visit every now and then. Juice was really just a goofball when he wasn't doing business for the club, Chibs was a secret sweetheart, Tig was a little crazy, Happy was hard to read, but it was Opie who was the most normal of the bunch.

You settle into your home quite nicely, working from your little office when your brothers need help to prevent any scheduling conflicts. Then in your downtime, you either have a book in hand or waste time on your gaming system. Jax and his brothers have been over a couple of times, drinking a beer to wind down or eating whatever leftovers you happen to have after you've already eaten.

This morning, however, you've just finished making breakfast when there's a knock at your front door. With a strip of bacon in hand, you answer the door and are surprised to see Jax and his son Abel standing there.

"What's up, Teller?"

He immediately smiles and your eyes narrow. "I hate to do this on such short notice, but my nanny canceled. Do you think you could watch Abel for the day?"

You glance down at the blonde boy, shrugging. "Is he cool staying with me?"

Jax glances down and nudges his son, but Abel merely asks, "Do you have more bacon?"

You open the door wider as you chuckle. "Sure, kid. You want some eggs and hashbrowns too?"

"Yum."

Abel walks into your house without a care in the world and you meet Jax's amused gaze. "So are there any rules I should abide by? Are you one of those dad's that limits screen time or bans sugar?"

"Nope and nope. No allergies either."

"Cool."

"Thank you. I owe you."

As Jax starts to walk down your porch steps, you say, "I'm a slut for food, Teller. Bribe me with food and I'll say yes to anything."

"Anything?" He peers over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. You scowl at him.

"Almost anything."

Jax laughs. "Don't cook tonight then. I'll bring some cheeseburgers and fries from this diner that makes pretty good food."

"Alright."

. .

When Jax returns later that night, Chibs and Happy follow after learning he was picking up food from the diner. What surprised them, however, was that while Jax parked in his driveway, he started taking the food to his neighbors house. But Chibs, nor Happy, said a word and followed their president with their own food when he didn't protest.

Jax is poised to knock on the door when he hears, "Don't you- don't you dare do it, kid. If you do it, I will personally wait until you turn seventeen to kick your little ass." The words give Jax pause because what the actual fuck! But then Abel's giggling makes him grin.

"Did she just threaten to kick Abel's ass, Jackie?" Chibs wonders, smirking.

"I think so."

"No, no, no! You blue-shelled me?! You're like two. How do you even know how to play this?!" Jax snorts and finally knocks. The trash talking suddenly ceases before… "It's open! If you're friendly, welcome! If not, I got a little ankle biter in here and I'm not afraid to sic him on you!"

Jax laughs some more and enters the house, walking to where he hears all the commotion. Walking into the living room, he can't help but smile at the sight of YN and Abel sitting side by side on the couch, attention focused on the TV where they're apparently playing Mario Kart.

"You bring the goods, Teller?"

"Burgers and fries as promised."

"You are currently my favorite Teller." Still your attention is on the TV, your trash talking his kid being kept very polite all of a sudden. Jax, Chibs, and Happy have no idea what's going on, but suddenly one of the characters is spinning out because of a banana peel and then Abel's giving a long, suffering sigh as the other character passes the finish line. "Yes!" You jump up, pointing down at Abel. "Sucks to suck, kid. Now come on. Your pop's got the goods."

When you finally look up at Jax, you momentarily freeze when you see Chibs and Happy there as well. "Oh. Hey, guys. Kitchen's this way."

Everyone follows you into the kitchen and you immediately grab drinks from the fridge. When you turn around, Jax is divvying up some food for himself, Abel, and you. You pass out the beers to the men and you have cans of Sprite for yourself and Abel. Then as you take the last remaining available seat since Jax kept Abel on his lap, you thank Jax for the food before digging in.

"So did you have fun today?" Jax asks his son.

"Yeah. I got to color and watch TV and play games."

Jax glances at you and you shrug. "I made do. I would have gone to the store to pick up some stuff for him, but I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me taking him anywhere."

"I appreciate that."

"So what about you? Is your nanny good or will you need another favor?"

"Uh, she actually might be out for a few more days."

You nod. "I can do it. Is it cool if I take him to the store with me tomorrow morning? I forgot how much little kids snack throughout the day."

"Yeah. I have an extra car seat you can use and I'll leave you some cash."

"Nah. Don't even worry about it. I'll be snacking with him, so I can front the bill."

But still, cash ends up thrown onto the table from both Chibs and Jax. You have a feeling it'd be useless to argue, so you say nothing.

After dinner, Jax helps you clean up before they all take their leave. He tells Abel to tell you goodbye and your heart absolutely melts when you crouch down, and Abel hugs you.

You visibly melt as you hug the little boy back and then pull back to tweak his nose. "Okay, you're officially my favorite Teller again."

Abel smiles at you as Jax laughs and then you bid everyone goodbye at the door.

Abel ends up preferring your company to that of his nanny, so Jax ends up splitting his son's time between the nanny at his house and you at your own house when you have nothing going on.

On this particular day, after a lunch of sandwich and chips, you and Abel are lounging in a kiddie pool right in the middle of your front yard. You even went as far to put up a canopy to have the pool half in the shade and half in the sun, and are soaking in a sports bra and a pair of black tights that look like shorts.

You're sitting in the shade, sipping on a juice box as Abel stands on the other side playing with water blasters. You hear the rumble of a motorcycle, unsurprised to have Jax checking in.

As the blonde walks up, you smile innocently as he laughs. "Where did the pool come from?"

"The store." You shrug. Abel takes the moment to load up his blaster with lukewarm water and shoots his dad with it. Jax doesn't bother dodging the stream. "We saw a commercial for the waterpark and since we can't go there, I brought the water to us."

Wiping water from his face and using it to slick his hair back, Jax crouches next to the pool and asks, "How much do I owe you?"

"Not a cent, Teller." You sip on your juice, grinning. "I haven't been in one of these since I was a kid. This is for me as much as it's for Abel. He just gave me the excuse of getting one and chilling in it without looking like an idiot."

"Well I don't know about that…"

He trails off and you gasp in mock outrage. As he laughs, you say, "You're lucky I respect the kutte and the fact that you have a phone in your pocket somewhere. If I didn't, I'd drag your butt in here with us."

"Next time." Jax splashes his son and then stands before Abel can shoot him point blank with water. "Am I grabbing dinner tonight?"

"Nah. Abel already made a request. He wants chicken tenders and fries."

"And what the little man wants, he gets?"

"Obviously." You roll your eyes playfully. "Plus, it's an easy meal and I enjoy it too."

"Alright." He chuckles as he starts making his way back towards his motorcycle. "Don't stay in the pool too long."

"Yes, sir." You mockingly salute him, lips twitching when you see him momentarily tense before relaxing once more. "See you later."

. .

It's past Abel's bedtime by the time Jax makes it home, and already he's prepared for his kid to either be bouncing off the walls or very cranky. But as he nears YN's house, he notices that it's mostly dark. All the lights are off with the exception of the porch light and a couple of lamps he can see through the windows that peer into the living room. And the TV, of course.

Instead of knocking, he lets himself right in. It's almost too quiet, but he can hear the TV playing rather low in the living room. Heading there, he walks up to the sofa and can't help but smile at the sight that greets him. YN is laid out across the sofa with Abel on her chest, his back to her front. Both are knocked out cold.

Without second guessing himself, Jax pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo. Chuckling to himself, he then walks around the sofa as he pockets his phone and crouches down. "Hey. YN," he gently calls out while shaking her shoulder.

It takes a few shakes before you wake, sleepily humming until Jax's voice coaxes you until you're fully awake. Your arms wrap around Abel on instinct and when you notice Jax's smirking presence, you relax. "What time is it?" You mumble.

"A little after ten."

"Really? Fuck. I guess the sun really did kick my ass if I'm this sleepy."

"Yeah." Jax chuckles and then carefully starts to gather Abel in his arms. "Sorry about showing up so late."

"Don't even worry about it." You sit up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "You know I adore your kid." As you follow Jax to the door, you remind him about going away for a week and not being able to watch Abel, but that you'll have your phone on if Abel wants to talk.

Jax laughs. "I swear, my kid loves you more than me sometimes."

"It's only because I'm a better cook," you muse.

Jax opens his mouth to argue, but ends up shutting it and shrugging. "You're not wrong there."

As Jax then exits your home, you bid him goodnight and watch until he disappears into his home.

When you explained to Jax that your brothers made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile, you weren't lying. Nor did you lie when you also explained you helped them with scheduling for said high profile individuals.

What you chose to leave out, however, was that your family had such a great record with security because no one wanted to fuck with a family who had connections to two different cartels through your dearly departed parents.

However, before you settled into the calm life of personal security, your brothers made a name for yourselves as ruthless hitmen amongst the cartels and you… you were a little unhinged when you were caught up in the moment as one of their torturers. You worked for the cartels when they needed you to, but when you and your brothers wanted to distance yourselves, it was the cartels who helped set up your security business.

The week spent with your brothers is just to visit and catch up with those who all three of you came to see as uncles. It was most definitely not supposed to end up with you being caught off guard by a fist to the face. Someone who didn't know all what you were capable of took advantage of the fact that you were a woman who was close to big names within the cartels. They thought you to be easily taken down and used as leverage, but what they didn't count on was you hiding daggers on your persons. The fight was dirty and bloody, and by the end of it you were spitting mad.

You have the urge to carve into someone that your brothers are trying to quell for once when your phone rings. You pull out your phone mid-pacing, and then freeze upon seeing Jax's name on the screen. But it's not a normal call- it's a video call.

"Fuck."

"What?" Your elder brother asks. "Who is it?"

"It's my neighbor. Most likely his kid Abel since I babysit him most of the time." Your brothers glance at each other and you roll your eyes. "I've told you about them. Now toss me my hoodie. I can't let them see my face like this."

Before the call ends, you answer it but make sure to angle the camera away from the bruised side of your face. "Hey, Jax, give me one sec," you say. Your brother tosses you a hoodie and you quickly pull it on after setting your phone down. Then you take a seat at the kitchen table, turning off a few lights so it's a little darker and you can hide within your hood. Picking up your phone and keeping only half your face on camera, you smile. "Hey, guys, miss me?"

Jax's smile falters, but Abel immediately starts talking, telling you all about his day with his dad. He tells you he misses your food and play time, and you assure him you'll be home soon. You tell him about hanging out with your own family and even make your brothers wave at the camera when you switch it on them. Abel's little voice telling them hi makes you smile and then Jax is telling Abel to go watch some TV before bed.

Left alone with Jax on the phone, his smile vanishes. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You refuse to meet either of your brothers' gazes as you can feel them staring at you. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit." Your brothers snort and you huff. Very reluctantly, you pull your hood down and maneuver the camera so it catches your full face. Jax's expression hardens. "Fuck."

"Don't worry. It looks worse than it is."

"What the fuck happened?"

You shrug and quickly glance at your brothers, but they're back to doing their own thing. "Went out drinking with the family and got caught in a brawl. It's been handled."

"So I don't have to gather the boys and kick some ass?"

His words make you huff a laugh. "Nah. I'm pretty sure I put the guy in a hospital."

"You took down a dude?! Now that's hot. I wish I could have seen that."

Uncaring that they're eavesdropping, your brothers burst out laughing and you sigh. You can't help but smile and you end up rolling your eyes when Jax laughs too. "Whatever. How's Abel really doing? Is he driving his official nanny insane yet?"

"Not really. He's just moping around."

"Aww." You coo. "Well I should be home soon. I'll take him to the park or something."

Jax's teasing smile turns genuine. "You know, I've never told you this, but I appreciate everything you do for Abel. You don't have to do anything, but you still treat him like family."

"What can I say? I like kids." You shrug. "And my idiot brothers will never give me any nieces or nephews."

"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.

You grin at them before looking back at Jax on your phone. "I should get going though. We have a meeting with the uncles here in a bit and I need to get ready."

"Alright. No more fights unless I'm there to avenge you. I can't have my favorite girl looking like she's in an abusive relationship."

Snorting, you say, "No promises. Tell Abel goodnight for me and to come up with a plan for what he wants to do when I get back home."

"Will do. See you soon."

As soon as you hang up, your brothers start making teasing kissing noises. "Oh shut the fuck up."

Valentine's Day has never been a day that you really cared for. Sure it was sweet to see teenagers and kids swap gifts and/or cards, or to buy candy half off, but it didn't bother you to have a significant other on this day. But you do remember how good it felt to get a gift as a kid, so you want to make sure Abel has a good day.

With your time spent with Abel, you've come to know that he loves certain fruits and chocolate. So after heading to the store for a quick shopping trip, you return home with strawberries, bananas, and melting chocolate. Then after cleaning the strawberries and chopping up some bananas, you dip them all in the ooey-gooey chocolate before letting them harden while fixing up a white dessert box with edges that say Happy Valentine's Day.

You've just filled the box with chocolate covered fruit when your phone rings and you can't help but smile at the name. You're no stranger to how handsome Jax is, but you know better than to go there with him.

"Hey, Teller, to what do I owe the pleasure of your hot voice?" You immediately answer.

Jax's laughter meets your ear before, "While it's nice to hear you like my voice, I'm actually calling on behalf of Abel."

"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"

"You know I'm your favorite Teller, YN." You hum, not denying his words. "But Abel is requesting your appearance here at the shop because he has a very important question to ask you."

"A very important question?" You muse. "What does Abel have to…" You trail off, the amusement in Jax's voice suddenly making something make sense. "His question doesn't happen to coincide with what today is, does it?"

Jax chuckles. "I am not ruining the surprise."

"I swear to God, Jax, if I end up crying I'm going to kick your ass."

"I look forward to it. Now get pretty and get your ass over here. Do not break my kid's heart."

"Never. And I'm always pretty, Teller."

"...yeah. You are." Your eyes widen at his words, but you don't say anything. Jax then clears his throat. "I'll see you soon."

"Y-Yeah. I'll be there in ten."

You can feel yourself blushing as you hang up, but quickly put it out of your mind as you hurry to your room to get dressed. You pull on a black sundress that's covered in sunflowers, the flowy skirt hitting right above your knees. You step into some black wedge sandals and quickly tie your hair up in a messy ponytail. You apply the basic amount of makeup and spritz some perfume around your body.

Heading downstairs, you throw all your necessities into a purse and then grab Abel's box of chocolate covered fruit before heading out.

The drive to Teller Automotive isn't a very long one, and you're soon parking in the lot. You leave your purse in the car, but you keep your box of fruits in hand. You get several wolf whistles as you cross the parking lot, but you merely laugh off Tig and Chibs' teasing.

Before you can enter the auto garage, Jax walks out, a smirk in place. And then before you can ask him what he's smirking for, your gaze is drawn downward to Abel who walks out behind him… and oh. You fuckin' melt.

Abel's hair is slicked into a faux hawk, a red bow tie is clipped to the very crisp white button shirt that's tucked into a pair of tiny faded jeans. In his hands he's holding a teddy bear that's adorned with a miniature Sons of Anarchy kutte, and a red carnation. The adorableness of it all makes you melt and tear up at how cute he is.

"Oh my goodness. You look so handsome," you tell him.

As you crouch so you're more at his level, you make sure the skirt of your dress still covers everything. Abel blushes as he asks, "Will you be my Valentine?"

"Hell yes I will." Abel smiles as he hands over your gifts, and Jax and the others- who were apparently listening in- whoop in celebration. "And as my Valentine, it's only fair that I give a gift as well. Strawberries and bananas covered in chocolate. Your favorite," you tell him.

Abel is so ecstatic over his gift that he nearly knocks you over as he hugs you. When Chibs ask him what he's got, he's more than happy to run off and show his uncles what you've given him. Jax offers you a hand up and as soon as you're steady on your feet, you notice him looking at you in a certain way.

"What?" You huff a laugh, carefully wiping away your tears that never fully fell.

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"Hardly. Tiny Teller is just adorable as hell." You can feel yourself starting to blush so you glance down at the teddy in your hand. "Where did you find a tiny kutte anyway?"

"It's actually Abel's. The guys had it made for him when he was born and he wanted your teddy to have it."

"I'll take extra care of it then." When you glance back at Jax, you ask, "So does Abel have to stay or can I take my valentine out on a date?" You have no idea what Jax had been thinking, but it's like your words make him snap. From one second to next, he goes from staring at you in awe to gently grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. You gasp but quickly return the sentiment. And when Jax pulls back, still cupping your face in his hands, you ask, "So me wanting to take your kid out on a date really did it for you, huh?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you smile as he leans in for another quick kiss. "Been wanting to do that for a while actually."

"And you waited until this moment to do it," you muse. "Jokes on you though. You gotta stick around and listen to your boys tease you about this while I take Abel out all on my lonesome." You kiss him for a third time and then step out of his reach to holler, "Little Teller, let's go! It's you and me, buddy. Whatever you wanna do."

As Abel approaches with a lot less fruit, he asks, "Can we eat pizza in the park?"

"We sure can. Now say goodbye to your dad so we can go stuff our faces."

Dating Jax Teller is rather thrilling. You do not care to know what goes on in the club unless it pertains to any woman trying to sleep with him, or when Jax needs someone to vent to. Then, and only then, do you let your opinion be known about what goes on with the MC.

But while you have nothing against the MC, you still prefer to spend a majority of your time with Abel. Sure you'll show up to some parties so all the other women know Jax is off limits, but you're content to do activities with little Teller wherever he wants to be for the day.

You thought it was cute Jax tried to shield you from the violence the club was capable of, but never pressed him for information when you noticed he looked stressed about something. This time, however, you wish you had pressed him for information when he asked you to stay in with Abel.

It's nighttime, and you and Abel are relaxing in front of your TV as you watch some new Pixar film about dragons and their riders. The two of you are dozing off when your front door is kicked in, which then makes you jump into action. But you're not just defending yourself, you have a little boy to think about. So before you can find a proper weapon, you're left standing in front of Abel who is now clinging to your leg as he whimpers in fear.

"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."

"Fuck off."

The men all chuckle in front of you. "Take her."

. .

The Sons of Anarchy roll up to a subdivision that's still in development, cautiously dismounting their motorcycles and arming themselves. A new MC had established themselves in a neighboring town, looking to make a name for themselves, and they thought knocking down the Sons a peg or ten was what they ought to do to establish their foothold in the MC world for good.

The encroaching MC took to ambushing the Sons whenever and wherever, and the people of Charming were starting to become afraid of strolling their pristine streets. Even the Sheriff was looking to the Sons to end the conflict, but they could only do so much. Unfortunately, one of the fights involved a chase on motorcycles as the Sons were making a run, and the son of the enemy President took a bullet to the right side of his chest and fell. His injuries then resulted in a coma which set off to this little meeting.

As they creep through the eerily quiet streets of the deserted subdivision, Opie flanks Jax. "I don't like this, brother. Something feels off."

"I agree," Chibs says. "We should have put the club on lockdown before ridin' out."

Jax sighs. "Too late now."

Juice, Happy, and Tig jog up to homes still under construction, trying the doors or looking for any signs that someone's been there. It isn't until they get to the end of the block that they notice one home has been vandalized and they know that's where they're supposed to go.

Every Son cautiously enters the house, nose wrinkling as the state of the house. But in the middle of the living room, there's an odd clearing around a small round table. And on that table sits a folded notecard.

The Sons seem to freeze, but then Jax is marching towards the note. Snatching it up, the words written make him tense as his world starts to tilt. "Fuck. They're going after Abel."

As the note flutters to the floor, the Sons all race after their President as he flees the house.

The note read, [A son for a son.]

On the way to YN's, Jax instructs half the Sons to break off and check on the club, while also making calls to get everyone on an official lockdown. Jax, Opie, Chibs, and Happy race to his neighbor's house.

When they pull up, a few neighbors are peering out their doors looking a bit distraught. Immediately, they know something terrible has happened, and that feeling is only intensified when they spot the broken down door.

Rushing to park in YN's front yard, guns are pulled from the back waistband of their jeans. Jax takes point as he enters the house and his heart drops to his stomach. The house is an absolute mess, furniture and glass broken.

The TV is still playing some cartoon movie and when he walks further in, he curses at the sight of a body laying in a pool of blood.

Happy peers over his shoulder. "Now we know she can hold her own."

"Find them. Now."

. .

Sitting in the bathtub, Abel clings to you as his face hides against the side of your neck. Your face hurts from the numerous punches you took, your lip is split, your arms have multiple lacerations, and there's blood dripping into your eyes. But your worst wound is definitely the bullet wound to the left of your abdomen, and you're grateful that Abel's weight is putting pressure on the towel you had pressed against the wound.

It's been quiet for what seems like forever, but suddenly you hear movement. Shakily raising the gun you'd taken from one of the intruders, you take aim and dare the next motherfucker who enters to be someone intending harm on you or the boy in your lap.

The door gently swings open, but no one is there. Your arm hurts from holding the gun up and then you see someone try to peer around the door jamb. You can only partially see his face, but the voice- you recognize the voice even if you rarely hear it when you're at the club.

"Baby girl?"

"...Hap?"

The stoic man steps fully in the doorway, putting his gun away as you drop yours in the tub. Abel shifts as he whimpers and you wince. "Jax! Upstairs bathroom!"

Abel realizes his uncle's voice and dad's name, so he moves to turn. Happy is quick to lift him, his eyes widening at the blood soaking his clothes. "S'fine. My blood," you tiredly tell him. "I didn't… I didn't let them touch him."

"You did real good." Happy's assurance makes you smile, but you're just so tired. As your eyes slide shut, you hear, "Hey! Don't do that. Stay awake, YN."

"Tryin'…" Pounding footsteps race up the stairs and it isn't long until Jax, Chibs, and Opie are pushing their way into the bathroom as well. Jax takes Abel right away, eyes scanning the room before they land on you. Happy and Opie move to help you out of the tub, but Chibs is quick to point out your bleeding wound. The last words you say are, "Call my brothers," before darkness consumes you."

. .

Jax is pacing the hospital waiting room, blood covering his shirt and hands from where he carried Abel. Chibs had taken Abel back to the club to clean him up and fill in the others about what was going on, but now he's back and filling in the Sheriff about what they had walked in on at YN's house. Thankfully Jax and YN's neighbors liked them, and were honest about hearing gunshots before the Sons had frantically rolled up.

Opie and Happy are the only two sitting patiently, but their attention is drawn to a large group of men entering the room. Two men in particular glance around before making a beeline for Jax, but the others hang back by the door. It's evident these men mean business as they stand guard, their suits standing out among the scrubs, kuttes, and regular clothing of the others sitting in the waiting room.

When Jax notices the newcomers, his shoulders sag at the sight of YN's brothers. But his interest is piqued with the suited thugs behind the brothers, tattoos visible along their hands and neck.

The brothers quickly introduce themselves as Noah and Theo, both of their expressions grim.

"What happened?" Noah asks. He's the elder of the two, his muscled torso covered in a button down with their sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"They were after my kid," Jax immediately tells them, voice low. "She took a bullet for him and she's in surgery right now."

Both brothers' jaws clench.

"Do you know who they are?" Theo asks, tapping away on his phone.

"Yeah. It's another MC. They attacked us on a run and the son of the President took a fall off his bike. He's in a coma, so the President went after my kid in return."

"And your kid was in the care of our sister," Noah realizes.

"Yes."

Noah sighs, running a hand down his face. Then after a few more taps and texts, Theo grins. "Found them."

Jax frowns. "Found who?"

"The people responsible for putting our sister in the hospital."

Jax then tenses. "This is club business, man. We'll handle it."

Both Noah and Theo tense, but end up chuckling. Jax's jaw clenches, but he keeps his anger in check.

Noah says, "If you think it'll remain club business when YN wakes up, then that means my sister hasn't confessed the family secret."

Jax freezes. "What secret?"

"We had to get our start somewhere when our parents died," Theo tells him. "And it just so happened that each of our parents came from very powerful, very wealthy families. We worked our way to the top of the food chain and became rather notorious until we wanted out and settled into the business we currently have."

Noah starts to smirk. "Your club business just became cartel business, my friend. And our uncles are livid that their little girl was attacked."

Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.

"We'll find them and keep them occupied," Theo says. "When YN is released, she'll be out for blood."

"And she'll get it," Noah muses. "After all, she is quite the little torturer."

When you wake up, you're unsurprised to find Jax by your bedside. You are surprised, however, to learn that he knows about your past thanks to your brothers promising bloodshed. You groan, but then remember Abel. And after assurances that Abel is fine, you relax.

You're anxious to know where you stand with Jax as he explains why you ended up in the hospital. He feels guilty for not telling you what was really going on or putting you on lockdown, along with the club, but you don't blame him for what happened. Dating the President of an MC, you were bound to be pulled into the violence sooner or later, and with your past you knew you could handle it.

When he runs out of steam, it's your turn to start apologizing for not telling him about your life with the cartels. You make sure he knows that you would have never endangered Abel, and if your past had come calling, you would have made sure that they were protected at all costs. Jax assures you he's not mad, but he did wish you would have told him given you knew about the roles some of his brothers played in the club.

But what's done is done, and Jax is more interested in what you plan on doing since your brothers have gone quiet after calling him to inform him that they've got a majority of the MC tucked away in a building that no one can hear the impending mayhem.

"They broke into my home and put a bullet in me just to get to Abel and send a message to you," you say, expression turning thunderous. "The one who shot me doesn't get to walk away. Hell, the ones who fuckin' raised a gun in Abel's direction are lucky that they'll be limping away after I'm done."

"Limping away?"

You slowly smirk at him, lowering your voice. "I'm not gonna draw out my punishment, but my brothers and my uncles' men sure as shit ain't gonna sit back. They're gonna make sure they get the message that they fucked with the wrong people."

Jax huffs a laugh and then ends up staying for as long as the nurses would let him, only leaving when YN's brothers came or he had to go pick up Abel so he'd see that YN was fine for himself.

Then after two and a half days, you're released.

You're still sore, but you've got nothing but vengeance on your mind. When your brothers send you the address of where they're holding several individuals for you to interrogate, you get dressed and head for Teller Automotive.

Some of the guys are surprised to see you up and about, but you wave off their concern as you continue towards the club portion of the shop.

The usual sweetbutts are milling about, cleaning up and most likely getting ready for a party since it is a Friday. You spot Jax and Juice at the bar as Juice taps away on a laptop.

"Boys," you greet as you walk up behind them. "Whatcha workin' on?"

Jax turns in his seat, eyes subtly widening as he stands. "You're out! Why didn't you call me?" He's quick to carefully take you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Because if I'd have called you, you'd have taken me home and coddled me."

"Well yeah. You were shot."

"I got shit to take care of, Teller, and I'm not wasting another day."

"Then what are you doing here?"

You shrug. "I just thought that you'd want to see the MC face their consequences."

"Now? You're going to do that now?" He asks, his gaze darting down to your covered abdomen.

"Yep. "My brothers procured a place just on the outskirts of Charming where we won't be interrupted. You in?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

"Good. Then gather whoever's in and follow me."

As you sit in your car, you watch Jax as speaks with several of brothers to see who he's going to leave in charge. And after everything is settled, only five follow Jax to their motorcycles- Opie, Happy, Juice, Tig, and Chibs.

You start your car and start to drive, pausing by the gate until Jax and the others start to roll out. You take off, keeping your speed down as you drive through the town. But the moment you get to the road leading out of Charming, you step on the gas and race towards the location your brothers sent to you.

You drive along an empty stretch of road until you turn down a dirt road which is surrounded by empty crop fields that have seen better days. The road leads up to a dilapidated farmhouse, a very rusted horse corral, and behind all that is a barn where several vehicles have parked.

You park and get out, waiting for Jax to find the perfect spot to park their motorcycles. Once they do, you wait until they gather around.

"I know this started off as club business, but now it's cartel business. I can't have you questioning me in there."

"This is your playground," Jax says. "We're just here for a show."

You nod and then turn towards the barn doors, pushing them open with the help of Chibs and Tig when they get stuck. Inside, several men are hanging about on turned over crates or bales of hay, some even sitting at a small wooden table playing cards. Music plays softly in the background, but it's cut off the moment your presence is noticed.

Immediately, every man and woman scramble to their feet as you approach.

In the middle of the barn, there's a line of eight men with burlap sacks over their heads sitting in chairs with their wrists tied down to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. Walking down the line of men, you snatch the sacks from their heads.

"Wakey, wakey, motherfuckers." Each man is clearly exhausted, agitated, and pissed off.

You save the MC President for last, smirking as he sneers at you. "Stupid bitch." He seethes. "Let us go. Right now."

"Bitch," you muse. "If you're going to insult me, at least call me a cunt. Or whore. Those words have much more of an impact."

"Cunt."

Your fist whips out, striking him across the face so hard that his head jerks to the side. He turns to glare back up at you, spitting blood that lands on your pant leg. "Now, now. If you're going to insult me again, at least be creative about it. Your lack of creativity is sorely disappointing." He roars at you, trying to free his wrists and feet, but you merely laugh and continue to pace in front of his men. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and it's quite simple, really." You stop pacing, expression hardening. "You fucked with the wrong woman."

Then like a switch has been flipped, you go back to smiling and pacing, gesturing wildly as you talk. "Normally I wouldn't touch MC business with a ten foot pole, but you fuckers messed up. You broke into my home and went after a child under my care- a child that I hold very near and dear to my heart. So, now your piss poor attempt at taking over territory that doesn't belong to you has now come under cartel jurisdiction, and I will make sure that any stupid motherfuckers who dares to come after the Sons of Anarchy will pay a price."

"Fuck that. We didn't cross any cartel!"

"Oh honey," you mockingly coo as you come to a stop in front of the one who spoke. "I am part of the cartel." Turning around, you walk towards a long table and lift the cloth laying atop of it. Beneath the cloth, there's a variety of weapons. You tuck a glock into the back waistband of your jeans and then grasp a dagger in your dominant hand. Then turning to walk back towards the bound men, you smirk. "Now what I want are the assholes who attacked me and dared to point a gun at a child. You give me those men and the rest of you can walk out of here."

Silence.

Dead fuckin' silence.

"Nothing?" You chuckle. "Come on, guys. Give 'em up. I swear it's not worth protecting them. I mean, I can probably figure it out. Eyes are windows to the soul and all that rot. You might have been wearing masks, but I still remember those cowardly glints very well."

"Fuck you! I ain't no coward."

"Bingo!" You shout, pointing the tip of your blade at the culprit. Walking up to the guy, you can't help but laugh as he realizes his mistake and clamps his mouth shut. "One down, one more to go."

"I ain't telling you shit."

"No?" Switching the dagger to your other hand, you pull the glock free from behind your back. You step close to the man, taking aim at his crotch. "Are you sure about that?"

He cruelly smirks. "You're all talk and no-"

BANG!

The guy immediately starts screaming, his buddies struggling in their chairs, and you laugh. When you glance around the room, you see those you consider family chuckling and the Sons cringing in sympathy as they cover their crotches. You walk around so you're standing behind the screaming fool, swapping the dagger and gun in your hands so the dagger is back in your dominant hand. "Going once… going twice…" He continues to scream, and you sigh when no one else speaks up.

And then before anyone can comprehend what you've done, you've dragged the blade across the guy's neck.

As he gurgles on his blood and his friends shout obscenities at you, you walk around so you're standing before them once again.

"That's three of my men you've killed already," the President says. "I think fair's fair."

"I want the last one," you say. "One last guy and you're good to go."

No one says anything, but the President's expression hardens. There's a cold glint in his eye that you're very familiar with, and you know that should he walk out of these barn doors, he'll do anything and everything for revenge. "Samuel. I sent Samuel."

The Samuel in question squawks and you smile beautifully at him over the shoulder before staring at the President once more. "Harsh. Selling out your own guy like that." You saunter up to him, sighing. "But he's the thing; I hate snitches."

Then before the President can blink, you take aim and pull the trigger. The bullet hits him right between the eyebrows.

The struggling, bound men all seem to cease movement and you turn towards them. "Now that that's out of the way…" You walk back towards Samuel, scoffing at his whimpering. "You might get to live today, Sammy, but not without something to remember why messing with the Sons a big no-no."

"And w-what's that?"

You slowly smile. "Open your fist, Samuel. Lay your hand flat against the armrest."

His eyes widen as he whimpers, but he hesitantly does as you've said. Then when his hand is nice and flat, you drive your blade through the back of his hand, pinning it to the arm rest.

As he screams, you sneer at him and then start to make your way towards the Sons. On your way, you hand off your gun before coming to a stop in front of Jax and pasting on a smile as you glance at each Sons. "Who's hungry?"

"Marry me," Happy grumbles.

You laugh at him, winking, and then glance back at Jax. "You're a little psycho," he says.

"Only when the occasion calls for it. But seriously, can we go get food?"

Jax laughs as he sidles up to your side, sliding an arm along the back of your shoulders. "Do burgers sound good?"

"Burgers sound marvelous. I also want a vanilla milkshake."

"Good. We'll go grab some and surprise Abel. He's been itching to go to your house again."

"Ugh. Your kid is so adorable. But maybe let me settle in before you grab him. My abdomen is on fire and if we tell him I'm sick, maybe he won't be so hyperactive."

"Let me see."

Begrudgingly, you lift the hem of your shirt and glance down. Sure enough, you've bled through your bandages. "New plan; No Abel."

"What? But-"

"Nope." Jax squeezes you to his side as you sigh. "You're gonna go home, Chibs will follow to patch you up, and I'll go pick up some food. Abel can go one more day without seeing you."

"Boo."

The Sons chuckle.

"What about us?" Juice asks, gesturing between himself, Tig, and Happy.

"I don't care, Juice. Do whatever you want."

As they head towards their motorcycles, Jax walks you to your car.

"So, are you really okay with this?" You ask. "Okay with me and all that I'm capable of?"

"Yeah." Jax nods. "More than okay, actually. It's good to know that should shit find its way to your doorstep again, you'll handle it."

"Damn right I will." You swing around so you're standing in front of Jax, arms wrapping around his waist as his go around your shoulders. "I will protect Abel with my life again and again. Never doubt that."

"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.

"You're a close second," you muse. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you peck his lips. "Now seriously. Food, Teller. I need food."

"Yeah, yeah." He kisses you again. "Go home and get settled. I'll be there soon."

#jax x reader #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #jax teller #happy lowman #abel teller #mc romance #motorcycle club romance #dark romance

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sweet-honey-fruit · 10 months ago

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Happy Valentine’s Day ❤️

Surprising Star Rail men with a lingerie on the most romantic day of the year

w/: Aventurine, Blade, Dr. Ratio, afab!reader

Genshin version here 🫶

Warnings: NSFW minors DNI, face fucking (Blade), called ‘good pet’ (Blade), hints of possessiveness (Blade), blowjob (Blade), hints of dom/sub (all of them), vaginal fingering (Aventurine), called ‘babydoll’ (Aventurine), d in v (Dr. Ratio), creampie (Dr. Ratio)

Got carried away with Aventurine, whoops.

Masterlist: xxx

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Aventurine ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - Aventurine was normally the one pulling out the surprises. Especially on special days like Valentine’s Day. Taking you out to a fancy restaurant, taking you to all of your favorite places, and especially taking you to bed to show just how much he loves you. It’s not often that he’s the one who gets surprised. So when you stopped him when he closed the bedroom door, and you stripped out of your clothes, revealing the erotic lingerie that hung on your body; he was as surprised as he could be. He wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste.

He’s quick to push you back onto the bed, crawling on top and giving you a dazed look. The mere sight of you is enough to turn him into a needy disaster. His hands caress your plush thighs. Just enough pressure to tease you, and to make you throb with need. It’s, frankly, annoying. You gave him a gift and he has the nerve to mess around like this? Not even letting you feel a hint of his cock against your soaking hole. You fight back a scowl. Yet as attentive as he is, he notices, and he can’t help but to laugh.

“You’re the one who wanted to play this game, don’t tell me you’re getting heart broken because you’re losing,” He spreads your legs apart with a form of desperation that he’s trying so hard to hide. Although it’s obvious with the way his fingers dig into your skin, leaving behind a bruising pain that causes you to buck your hips up for any kind of friction. His breathing shakes at the sight of the thin fabric clinging to your wetness at the movement, emphasizing the shape your pussy.

He dips down, leaving feather-light kisses up and down your neck while his body encases yours under him. It’s addicting, the feeling of his lips against your hot neck. It leaves you dizzy, hand gripping onto his head, grinding your hips against his own.

“Ah ah ah,” His hand forces your waist back down, a strong hold held as a warning, “Don’t think just because you caught me off guard with such an eye-catching thing that you’re the one who gets to call the shots babydoll.”

The low, teasing laugh against your ear was enough to make you cum on the spot. The way he was holding you down so effortlessly, the way his other hand teased your soaked slit, it was all so subtle yet was driving you mad with a desperate desire. Then when his fingers plunge inside of you, fucking you in all the right spots and making your vision black out just from how good it feels. Aventurine doesn’t let up either, oh no. He likes seeing you wither under him like this. Especially when you had the audacity to believe that you were on the good end of the deal.

Blade ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - If life itself is punishment, then dear god he doesn’t want to spend it any other way. Not when you’re kneeling before him in a lingerie that leaves so little to the imagination that it’s ethereal. Not when you’re leaving feather-light kisses over his growing bulge, muttering ‘I love you’ and ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ with a love-stricken look. He’ll happily take this life with you.

His hand finds its way into your hair as your mouth finds its way around his cock. His touch is gentler than what it normally is. The way his fingers massage into your scalp feels more like a caress than anything else. He’s cherishing the celebration, the display that you happily allowed him to see. Only him, only for him. That mere thought elicits a soft moan out of him. Your tongue swirls around his tip, whimpering at the sweet taste of his precum. He hums appreciatively, pressing your head back down agaisnt his growing hardness. Despite the surprise from the sudden switch of demeanor, your eyes are glazed over with desire. Yet his hold tightens nonetheless, pushing you down even further till your nose is pressed up agaisnt the base. You take it all the way, sucking harder like the good pet you are. His hips rut up against your mouth, drawing his dick in and out in a slow yet rough pace. Your eyes remain locked with his, moaning and drooling and impatiently touching yourself through the lingerie.

“You’re so pretty,” He moans out, his other hand reaching down to cup your face, “For me. So pretty for me, only me.”

Dr. Ratio ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - Usually a man with great composure, that title was long lost the moment he saw you in the revealing, skin tight lingerie. He practically tore your panties away the moment he had you on the bed, only leaving on the bra that encases your sensitive breasts. He wanted you so bad, and that's evident with how he's rubbing the head of his cock up and down your soaked hole, letting your slick drip down the base.

Ever so slowly he pushes his dick in, a heavenly groan mixing with your pornographic moan. His lips trail up your body, leaving goosebumps behind. They're slow and calculating, kissing the most sensitive of places just so he can feel you clench around his cock. With a soft sigh he thrusts in. It's gradual, sensational and loving. It's so loving the way he holds your hand, kisses your lips, rub gentle circles on your thighs as he fucks into your needy hole.

He's throwing every ounce of love and appreciation he can with every touch, ever thrust, and moan and groan that he can force out of you; he may not be good with expressing how he feels about you, but he won't waste this opportunity to properly show you. Not when you went through the effort to please him like this.

"There you go, relax," He shushes your babbling, loving the way your erotic noises mix with his hips snapping against yours, "Let me show you how much I love you."

He doesn't stop, not when you cum over and over, leaving you a squirming, cock-drunken mess. Not when he spills his seed into you so much that it's spilling out of you, coating his cock in a mixture of your wetness and his semen. Not when he glides his finger over the mixture and presses it into your mouth to lick clean. He loves you, he's going to make sure you're taught that.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader smut #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader smut #hsr aventurine #blade x reader #blade x reader smut #aventurine honkai star rail #hsr blade #star rail x reader #honkia star rail

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leclerckins · 1 year ago

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i'd lie [cl16]

❀ pairing (s) — charles leclerc x singer!reader (ft. arthur leclerc)

❀ desc — where you and charles both suck at lying...part 3 to this and this!

❀ notes — hi! its dina! first of all, tysm for 400 followers! <3!! i had so much fun doing this part (think i got too carried away teehee) inspired by i'd lie by taylor swift (lyrics are adjusted to match the imagine) i hope you guys enjoy this!! (includes google translated french! sorry if its wrong!)

yninstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, pierregasly and others

yninstagram my best friend my love my forever valentine

charles_ leclerc je t'ai aimé avant même de savoir ce qu'est l'amour (i have loved you even before i know what love is)

yninstagram et pour le reste de ma vie (and for the rest of my life)

lorenzotl FINALLY

ynsister FINALLY WE ARE CELEBRATING

ynupdates omg its happening everyone STAY CALMMMMM

ynluvr a lost for yn nation today.....can u fight charles_leclerc?

charles_leclerc

liked by yninstagram, lewishamilton, carlossainz55, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc years later; it has and will always be you

yninstagram my favourite glow up <3

arthur_leclerc FINALLY

danielricciardo OH he got rizz....

lewishamilton why there are actual tears

joris_trouche mes personnes préférées (my favourite people)

cl16updates WE CAN SEE THE CELEBRATIONS STARTING

charlesyn moving like the IT couple yall are!

ynpics WE GOT THE HD VERSION OH MY GOD SOMEONE'S GRANDMA BOUT TO BE FREE TODAY!

pierregasly btw i've called this like 10 years ago

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc oneshots #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au

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malfoys-demigod · 4 months ago

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The Valentine's Day Dance

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: A banter between you and Logan on the topic of Valentine's Day leads to an unexpected connection, revealing hidden feelings and new beginnings. A/N: I truly do believe we need more Wolverine fluff! I just love reading fluffs on him because he can be such an adorable cat! Word Count: Around 2k

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The X Mansion had a cozy, community-like feel, especially around the holidays. The holiday that was coming up so soon was Valentine’s day.

You were a literature teacher who secretly loved the idea of love, but found Valentine’s day too commercialized and corny. Why? Because you believed that love should be celebrated every day, not just on a specific date dictated by tradition. You kind of felt that the holiday puts unnecessary pressure on people to express their love in a particular way, rather than allowing for spontaneous genuine expressions of affection.

You had seen the school decorations starting to overfill around the mansion as early as your first class of the day had started. There were pink and red hearts everywhere. You were secretly pleased that love was all around, but maybe the over-the-top decorations were a little too much.

While during lunch break, you were carrying a few Valentine’s day cards from your students, reading them on the way to the kitchen.

Logan, who had just finished his classes as well, came out of his classroom and passed you in the hallway. He smirks and says, “You actually celebrate this corny day?”

You looked up to see Logan taking a peek at one of your cards, assuming he was jealous since he wasn’t holding any cards at all. “Sounds like you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with,” you resorted.

Logan had moved on a long time ago from the fact that Jean and Scott were meant to be, and he healed from that, knowing it was fine. While you walked into the kitchen, you left Logan slightly annoyed but also intrigued by your comment.

You were now in the kitchen along with Jean and Storm, sitting around the dining table, enjoying a cup of tea and reading through Valentine’s Day cards they’ve received from students.

“Dear Ms. Grey,” Jean read a card out loud, “You’re the best teacher ever. Happy Valentines’ Day!” “These kids are too sweet.”

Storm smiled, “I’ve got a few myself. It’s nice to feel appreciated, even if it’s just for one day.”

“I agree. I love today,” you grinned, “It’s like everyone’s a little more open with their feelings, you know?”

Logan walked into the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee, overhearing the conversation. “Feelings. Great. Just what we need more of around here.”

“Oh, come on, Logan, don’t tell me you didn’t get any Valentine’s day cards?” you asked, playfully, knowing quite well he didn’t.

“I’m here to teach history, not to win a popularity contest, bub,” he said, smirking.

“Maybe you’d get a few cards if you lightened up a bit,” Jean recommended.

With mock seriousness, Logan replied, “I’ll leave the charm to you, Jean. After all, you’ve got Scott to shower you with affection.”

There was no hint of hurt when Logan said that, but you looked up at him with a small show of concern. Even if it was ages ago when Logan accepted things, this was a joke you wouldn’t sit well with if you were in his shoes. But maybe he was really okay with things and this was a way of showing it?

“Real funny, Logan,” Scott laughed, coming into the kitchen, “Speaking of which, we’ve got the Valentine’s Day dance coming up, and guess who’s chaperoning?”

“Oh, I love chaperoning! It’s always so much fun!” you said excitedly

Logan groaned, rolling his eyes. “Please tell me I’m not on that list.”

“Actually, you are,” Jean said, “We just got the assignments earlier and since Scott and I are a team, and Storm’s with the professor…”

“That leaves you two as partners for the night,” Storm finishes for her, pointing at you and Logan.

You were up for the challenge actually. It felt like it was Christmas and you were paired up with the grinch, whom you wanted to un-grinch for the night. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Logan,” you smirked at him.

Logan sighed, “Fantastic. My favorite holiday, and now I get to spend it surrounded by hormone-crazed teenagers… and you.” He looked at you with a deadbeat face.

You sat up from your chair, taking a step towards Logan. “Look, just say you’re jealous since you didn’t get any cards.” You teased him again with that fact.

Logan raised his eyebrow, “Jealous? Please. I’m just looking forward to watching you try to keep up with those kids on the dance floor.” He said, taking a closer step towards you.

“Oh, I can keep up just fine. The question is,” you said, making a bold move, “Can you?” The two of you were just inches away from each other, and possibly a verbal match.

Jean started laughing lightly at Storm, “This is going to be an interesting night.”

“I’ll make sure to bring popcorn,” Storm smiled.

Logan, with his super-hearing senses, grumbled, “Great. Just what I needed. A front-row seat to the Valentine’s day circus.” He said, taking a step back from you, drinking from his cup.

“Don’t worry, Logan. I’ll make sure you have fun, whether you like it or not.” You had a hint of challenge in your voice.

A few days later, the dance commenced.

As the students start to dance, along with Jean and Scott slowly swaying their way into the center of the dance floor while Storm and Charles are making conversation…

You found yourself standing alone near the back. I mean, that was part of being a chaperone right? You were just having a punch, taking small sips from time to time. That was when Logan, who saw you from the other side of the room, alone as well, approached you.

He tried to keep up with his usual snarky attitude. “I’m surprised you’re not out there dancing with the kids, spreading all that ‘love’ you believe in.”

You were secretly thankful that there was company now, even if it meant it was from Logan. You grew a smirk on your face, which Logan noticed. It was starting to become something he didn’t mind getting used to - and to his surprise, doesn’t mind getting used to.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for someone worth dancing with.”

Logan pauses, not expecting that response from you. It was as if his snark falters. He looks around, and seeing no one is watching, boldly offers you his hand.

“Or maybe you’re just bad at dancing,” he joked.

The sight of his hand out surprised you. There was a moment of hesitance from you, but you had to do something. You took his hand, and you both stepped into the dance floor.

The swaying at first is awkward, as expected. There’s a tension between you, a mix of uncertainty and something unspoken. But gradually, after a few sways, you both fall into a comfortable rhythm, moving together more naturally.

“Hm, you’re not as bad at this as I thought, darl,” Logan softened, almost without realizing it.

“Careful, Logan, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

Logan chuckles softly, shaking his head in mock exasperation. He then smirks, “Don’t get used to it, Y/N. I’m just trying not to step on your feet.”

Now, there was a brief pause as the banter between the two of you started fading as the music slowed down. The closeness between you and Logan… felt different, more real. His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you notice the way he’s looking at you. It was not with the usual teasing glint you were used to, but it was with something gentler… something almost vulnerable.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” You said quietly, meeting his gaze.

Logan was shaking his head. “No… it’s not,” he replied, barely above a whisper.

As the song ends, the air between you and Logan had changed with something unspoken. It was as if the room suddenly felt too crowded, too loud.

“Do you want to…” you spoke softly, almost hesitant, “step outside for a bit? The garden’s always so quiet this time of the night.”

Logan nods, not breaking eye contact. His hand was still loosely holding ours as you both made your way toward the exit. The sounds of the dance had faded behind the two of you as you stepped into the cool night air, for the garden was waiting for whatever comes next.

You both find a quiet spot in the garden, away from the noise of the dance. You felt the cool air refreshing you, after the warmth of the mansion inside, and the two of you both stood in silence for a moment, taking it in.

“You know, this whole Valentine’s Day thing... maybe it’s not as ridiculous as I thought.” Logan broke the silence.

You laughed at his comment softly, “I’m shocked to hear that from you.”

“Don’t get too excited. It doesn’t mean I’m about to start throwing rose petals around, Y/N.” He said with a teasing smirk.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But you have to admit, it has its charms.”

“Maybe... or maybe I’ve just never had a reason to see it differently... until now.”

You looked at Logan, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For the first time, you saw a different side to The Wolverine, one that was not hidden behind sarcasm and snark.

“Are you saying you’re not as cynical as you pretend to be?” you asked gently

Logan flashed you a smile, a real one this time. “Maybe I’m just tired of being lonely.”

Logan’s smile starts fading, turning into a more thoughtful expression with the silence between you two growed heavy with unspoken emotions. You both stand close, the cool night air wrapping around you.

There’s a moment of hesitation from both of you, as if neither wants to be the first to break the silence or the tension. But then, almost instinctively, Logan’s hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. His touch is surprisingly gentle, considering the tough exterior he usually presents.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were waiting for this all night, sweetheart.” Logan softly said with a teasing edge.

“And what if I was? Would that make you run the other way?” You replied playfully

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rumbling, before his hand moves to cup your cheek. The world seems to narrow down to just the two of you at that moment, the space between you growing smaller until there’s none left at all.

Then, slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It’s hesitant at first, as if both of you are testing the waters, unsure of what this meant. But as the kiss deepens, there’s a shared realization of how much you’ve both been denying. The kiss turns into something more intense, filled with the unspoken feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads rest against each other, both of you slightly breathless. Logan’s thumb gently caresses your cheek, and there’s a soft smile on his face that you’ve never seen before—one of pure, unguarded affection.

“You know, I think this might be the first Valentine’s Day I actually don’t mind.” He whispered

“Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Logan.”

The next morning at school, the usual routine feels different. You’re both back in your respective classrooms, but the memory of the previous night lingers in your thoughts.

In the hallway between classes, you spot Logan. There’s an undeniable warmth in his eyes as he catches your gaze. The teasing smirk is still there, but it’s softer now, more playful than sarcastic.

“Try not to get too distracted by thoughts of me today, Y/N.” He passed by with a low murmur

“I’ll try, but no promises.” You smirked back and as you walked away, you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, realizing that something big had changed between the two of you. The banter continues, but now it’s underscored by a mutual understanding and a shared affection.

Later that day, as you’re packing up your things in your classroom, Logan approaches you. There’s a slight awkwardness to his movements, as if he’s debating something internally.

He then handed you a small, slightly crumpled Valentine’s card. It’s nothing fancy, just a simple card, but the gesture makes your heart skip a beat.

You open it, finding a short, handwritten note inside: “You were right. Maybe next year, I won’t be so lonely.”

You look up at him, a smile spreading across your face. Logan’s usual tough demeanor is nowhere to be seen; instead, he’s looking at you with an expression that’s almost vulnerable, like he’s just taken a leap of faith.

“I’ll hold you to that, Logan.”

“You’re on, doll.” He nods, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. As you both leave the classroom together, there’s a sense of a new beginning, a promise of something more. The banter may continue, but now it’s laced with a mutual respect and an undeniable attraction that neither of you can ignore.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

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I hope I was able to tag you guys well!

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fluff #wolverine x reader fluff #x men #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #hugh jackman #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x y/n

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sunni-stuff · 2 days ago

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Adira and Mama have always celebrated valentines together. And now we have Simon, who in addition to wanting to create a connection with Adira, he also wants to recreate that "love" with Mom. So, this Valentine's Day, Simon and Adira team up to give Mom a wonderful gift!

Valentine’s Day.

The holiday where people got all sappy, handed out cards, and smothered their significant others with roses and kisses. The streets would be painted in shades of red and pink, filled with the bustling energy of couples trying to outdo each other with grand romantic gestures.

But for you, Valentine’s Day had always been about something else. Since Adira was born, it became a tradition to celebrate the love of your life in your own way. You didn’t need a partner to make the day meaningful; you had her. Every year, you’d gift her a small box of her favorite chocolates—indulgent, sweet pieces she’d greedily munch on, leaving her cheeks smeared with chocolate and her gummy grin brighter than the sun.

You couldn’t help but remember the memory of how Adira’s love affair with that brand of chocolate started. Godiva Gold Collection—an unnecessarily expensive, fancy brand that had somehow become her favorite. You still had the box that started it all, tucked away in the closet of keepsakes, its shiny gold lid a time capsule of an unexpected moment from your early days at the daycare.

It was your first Valentine’s Day as an assistant, back before you had your own class. You’d been trying to keep a low profile, just another cog in the machine, but one of the dads had made that impossible. For weeks, he’d been flirting with you, persistent in a way that made you roll your eyes more than blush. Day in and day out, he’d linger a little too long during drop-offs or pick-ups, throwing out compliments like confetti. It was harmless enough, but you never entertained it beyond polite smiles.

That Valentine’s Day, though, he decided to up the ante. Strolling in with his daughter on one arm and an elaborate, glittering box of chocolates in the other, he sauntered over to you with the confidence of a man who thought he’d already won.

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing you the Godiva box with a grin that was probably meant to be charming but mostly came off smug. “Figured you deserved a little something for always being so amazing.”

You took the box graciously, murmuring a polite thank-you. And that’s when the moment turned unexpectedly sweet.

Before you could even process the interaction, a tiny figure toddled into the room—Adira, barely one year old, her chubby legs carrying her as fast as they could toward you. Her little hand stretched up, fingers opening and closing in that unmistakable signal: I want.

You smiled at her, heart melting as it always did. “Of course, little fox,” you murmured, placing the box carefully in her hands. She hugged it to her chest with the kind of pure joy that only a child could muster, her little fingers already fumbling with the lid.

The dad’s confident grin faltered as he watched the scene unfold. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait… You give chocolate to all the kids here? Isn’t that, uh, bad for them?” He gestured awkwardly toward Adira, who had now plopped herself onto the floor, fully engrossed in her mission to open the box.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood back up. “No, I don’t give chocolate to all the kids,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “Adira’s mine.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you watched as the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, darting between you and Adira as if trying to piece together a puzzle he hadn’t even realized was in front of him.

“She’s… yours?” he asked, incredulous.

You nodded, glancing down at Adira, who had successfully pried the box open and was now holding a truffle in her tiny hands like it was a treasure. “Yep. My daughter,” you said, pride evident in your voice. “She’s the reason I started working here, actually. Thought it’d be a good way to balance work and being there for her.”

The man’s face turned an odd shade of red, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. He had assumed, just like so many others, that you were childless and ready to play along with his flirtations. But you weren’t. And that, in some small way, felt like a victory.

“Oh. Wow. I didn’t realize,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I, uh, thought you were single. And… you know, childless.”

“Nope,” you said with a small laugh. “Very much a mom.”

He began backing toward the door with an apologetic smile. “Right, well… I should get going. My daughter’s probably waiting for me. Happy Valentine’s Day!” And just like that, he was gone.

Wasn't he holding his daughter?

His swift retreat had you chuckling even as you turned your attention back to Adira, who was now blissfully munching on her stolen treasure. She looked up at you, her grin wide and sticky, chocolate clinging to her growing pearly whites.

“Yum!” she declared, holding up another piece as if offering it to you.

Now, every Valentine’s Day, when you handed her a new box, she’d squeal with glee, just like she did when she was a baby. And every time, it reminded you why you didn’t need flowers, cards, or romantic gestures to make the day special.

Adira was your Valentine. She always had been, and she always would be.

Valentine’s Day had arrived once again, painting the streets with an abundance of roses, teddy bears, and couples hand in hand. The air was charged with the energy of love—or at least, that’s how the advertisements made it seem.

For you, it was a different story. As a single parent, Valentine's Day didn’t come with the same excitement. Instead, it was a quiet reminder of the love you shared with Adira—the kind of love that didn't need gifts or fancy dinners. You had your own little celebration planned with her at home, but first, there was work.

The daycare was closing early that day, giving most of the staff the chance to spend time with their partners. But for the rest of you—those without a special someone—it was business as usual. The meeting, something about the upcoming budgets for the year, was mandatory.

As you wrapped up your workday, you felt a twinge of guilt. Adira wouldn’t have the patience to wait while you sat through the meeting. She never did, and today wasn’t going to be any different. So, in a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision, you called Simon. He was more than happy to help, even though the idea of being with Adira all afternoon seemed like a challenge. Still, he was eager to do what he could, giving you time to get through the meeting without worrying.

Unbeknownst to you, your apartment was currently in a state of complete disarray.

It all started when Simon, while rummaging through the pantry for snacks, stumbled upon a familiar gold box tucked in the corner. He didn’t know why the sight of the Godiva box stirred something in him, but it did. For a split second, his mind conjured up the idea that you had someone special—someone who’d given you the overpriced chocolate. His stomach twisted at the thought.

Why did that bother him? It wasn’t like he had any claim over you. You were just co-parenting. But still, the idea of some other guy swooping in and winning you over with fancy chocolates rubbed him the wrong way.

The thought simmered in the back of his mind until he turned to Adira, who was running around, triumphantly waving around her Barbie head like a trophy . An idea formed, one that made the edges of his frown soften into something more determined.

“How about we make your mom something special?” he proposed, crouching down to her level.

Adira’s eyes lit up, her face brightening with an enthusiastic grin. “Yeah! Special for Mommy!” She bounced to her feet, already brimming with elation.

“Alright, lass,” he said, ruffling her hair. “We’ll need a plan. Let’s get to work.”

By the time thirty minutes had passed, your apartment was barely recognizable. Flour dusted nearly every surface, glitter and scraps of colorful paper were strewn across the living room, and the faint smell of something slightly burnt wafted from the kitchen. Simon was in over his head.

He had underestimated two things: the sheer mess a three-year-old could create when left unchecked and the complexity of trying to bake cookies with said three-year-old as his assistant.

His phone laid on the counter, a lifeline to Gaz, who had graciously agreed to walk him through baking cookies. "Alright, I’ve got the dough… I think. What’s next?” he asked, glancing at the slightly lumpy mixture in the bowl.

On the other end of the line, Gaz chuckled. “Mate, it shouldn’t look like that. Did you actually measure the ingredients, or did you just eyeball it?”

Simon huffed, frustration bubbling as he wiped a streak of flour off his cheek. “I followed the recipe! Mostly. Adira added her own… interpretations.”

As if on cue, Adira, perched on a stool beside him, giggled mischievously, her tiny hands gripping the now-empty container of sprinkles. She enthusiastically dumped half of it into the bowl, sending a white puff into the air. She giggled uncontrollably as flour settled into her hair, making her look like a tiny ghost.

“Looks funny!” she declared, wiping her flour-dusted hands on his sleeve.

Simon groaned, but he couldn’t suppress the chuckle that followed. “Yeah, you look like you’ve been rolling around in snow.” Glancing at the concoction they were making, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself, “This is a disaster.”

“Oi, it’s not a disaster,” Gaz chimed in, his voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “You’ve just got… a creative helper. Roll with it. Kids love messy projects.”

As they moved on to rolling out the dough, Adira decided to take charge of the cookie cutters. She pressed them into the dough with all the strength her tiny hands could muster, creating wobbly fox shapes that were more abstract than symmetrical. “For Mommy!” she declared with each press, her little voice full of pride.

Simon’s heart softened at her excitement. Despite the chaos, she was having the time of her life, and he couldn’t deny that it was… fun, in a strange, messy sort of way.

“Alright, Gaz,” Simon said, propping the phone closer to his ear as he picked up a cookie sheet. “What temperature do I need to set the oven at?”

“Preheat it to 350. And keep an eye on those cookies—you don’t want them to burn.”

“Got it,” Simon replied, sliding the tray into the oven.

While the cookies were “baking” (a generous term for the mess he’d shoved into the oven), Simon pulled out some paper, markers, and glitter he’d found in your supply cabinet. Adira jumped in eagerly, grabbing a red marker to scribble a heart on a piece of paper.

“Mommy likes red,” she informed him with absolute certainty, her tongue poking out in concentration as she drew wobbly shapes.

“Aye, red it is,” Simon agreed, his own hands now dusted with glitter as he helped her glue a few sparkly hearts onto the card. “We’ll make it the prettiest card she’s ever seen.”

By the time the cookies were done, the kitchen was a disaster zone, glitter was everywhere, and Simon had flour smeared across his cheek. Adira was thrilled, though, holding up her homemade card with pride.

Simon pulled the cookies out of the oven, sighing in relief when they actually looked halfway decent. Adira gasped in delight, clapping her flour-dusted hands together.

“They’re perfect,” she declared, though one cookie was clearly missing a chunk where she’d snuck a bite of the dough earlier.

Simon chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You’re right, they’re perfect.”

By the time you got home, the chaos was still evident—scraps of paper littered the floor, flour smudged on the counters, and a sticky trail of frosting led to the living room. But in the middle of it all were Simon and Adira, sitting at the table with the slightly wonky cookies and a handmade card, waiting for you with proud grins on their faces.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!” Adira exclaimed, jumping up to present you with her card.

Your heart melted at the sight, the mess fading into the background as you took in the scene before you. This wasn’t what you’d expected, but it was perfect.

Your voice caught in your throat as you held up the card Adira had made. The inside was adorned with little foxes, and the words scribbled across the page were a mix of Simon’s careful handwriting and Adira’s wobbly, childlike scrawl. The sentence read: “Call me Swiper because I’ve stolen your heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your chest tightening at the sight of it. The card was so simple, yet so heartfelt. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered love from the two people who had, in their own way, quietly wormed their way into your heart.

"You guys did all this…?" Your voice a little shaky, as you looked from the card to Simon and Adira, who were both sitting proudly at the table. Simon had flour on his cheek, and Adira’s face was a picture of joy, her hands covered in frosting and sprinkles. It was clear they’d both put their all into this little surprise.

Simon rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face as he shrugged. “Well, Adira here had the idea. I just... tried not to burn the cookies.”

Adira giggled, holding up one of the cookies as if it were a trophy. It was slightly misshapen, with sprinkles all over it, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect in its imperfection. “Mommy, for you!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride.

Your eyes softened, your heart swelling with love and something else you couldn’t quite place—appreciation, gratitude, maybe even a little awe. The moment was small, yet so significant.

“Thank you, Adira,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling as you knelt down to scoop her up into a hug. She squirmed in your arms, giggling as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, her little fingers gripping your hair with an uncoordinated but tender affection.

Simon stood back, watching the two of you with a quiet smile. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough. He was content, knowing he’d been part of this moment.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as she squished her cheek against yours, still grinning ear to ear.

Simon hesitated for a moment, a twinge of uncertainty crossing his face as he stood there watching the tender scene. He knew he wasn’t quite there yet, not in the way you and Adira had been all this time. He was a part of this moment, but he still wasn’t sure exactly where he fit in. His eyes flickered between you, your outstretched arms, and the small bundle of joy that was his daughter, so full of love and happiness—it made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t ignore.

But then, your words cut through the haze of his hesitation. "Why are you just standing there?"

You were smiling, the playful hint of a challenge in your eyes, but there was something more in your voice too—an invitation. You didn’t have to say anything else; it was in the way you held out your arms, in the way you pulled him in with your gaze.

Simon took a slow, steadying breath, his heart beating a little faster. He moved forward, tentative at first, before lowering himself to kneel beside you both. Adira giggled as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, her laughter echoing in the warm air of the apartment. He wasn’t just trying to fit into a place anymore. He carved one out for himself—right there, with you and Adira. And that, more than anything, felt like home.

It wasn’t the romantic, picture-perfect Valentine’s Day you’d imagined in the past, but it was better. It was real. It was messy, sweet, and full of love. The kind of love that came in small, beautiful moments like these.

And for the first time in a long while, you realized that maybe this was exactly how it was supposed to be.

A/N: I just wanna say rq, I appreciate the love AND to the anon who sent this, your brain needs to be kissed. I said I wasn't gonna do long fics as often but this was too juicy to pass up. Thank you!

ALSO, pls yall don't have to send me asks to be on the taglist! If you comment I'll add u!

TAGLIST: @pipedream411 @ficcharsimp009 @frogofrg @loonagabs @lunamoonbby @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @julesjuminos @tacticalgirlboss @teenagellamaangel @gifted-aurora @awildewit @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @t3a-bag @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @azaleapeachberry @terry2227 @rip-cod-brainrot @montenegroisr @sweetheartturtle2007 @hepprine @kodokunarisu-blog

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #cod x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #singlemom!reader #we meet again #sunshine sunni

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pursuitseternal · 10 months ago

Text

A “Decadent” treat for Valentine’s Day💝 Astarion x F!Reader with a sweet Sex Chocolate treat💝

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3K aphrodisiac-infused smut

💝Gift for @bhaalbaaby 💝

Summary: You finally make it to Baldur’s Gate, coin burning holes in your pockets, a need to gift your companions to celebrate how much you appreciate them. You get a gift to, a box of chocolates from your Vampire lover, and some alone time in an alley

CW: semi-public sex, aphrodisiac sex, knife play, nipple play, blood kink, blood drinking in detail, panty snatching rogue, one feral vampire who wants your blood and more

Bites series | Ao3 link |Masterlist

“Decadent:”

🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫💝🍫

At last… out of the crowds of Rivington, you made it. The bottleneck of Baldur’s Gate, the Southspan’s Main Street stretches out before you all. And that gold you have been hoarding like a dragon burns a hole deep in your pack. Everything smells… good and foul. Bakeries and perfumeries and smithy shops and fish mongers…. And you can’t wait to buy something from them all.

After all your party has done for you and with you, a few tokens of appreciation wouldn’t go amiss. Karlach takes you by the arm, and you’re glad she can’t burn you to cinders by now. Because in all her hysteria, she would have certainly forgotten. Gale makes a none-too-subtle move to pull Astarion from your side, begging him to show all the booksellers. “Don’t touch me, Wizard,” he grimaces, mostly for show and humor. But there is a little irritation in his silken voice. “I have my own plans,” he comments towards Gale, but his eyes dart in your direction. That little lowering of his head so he gazes at you like the predator he is… your stomach instantly drops to your knees.

For a man who is horrific at planning, he surely knows how to calculate a breathtaking seduction… and they always begin with him giving you that look.

“Cmon soldier, let’s go find something new and sharp and deadly shiny!” Karlach tugs you towards the closest smithy, and away from where Astarion is eyeing you like you’re his next snack.

Your Cleric loops her arm through yours and giggles. “Yeah and maybe we’ll find you a little something else to wear that isn’t scaled armor and chainmail.”

“Ooooh, yeah,” Karach peers over the top of your head to cackle back at Shadowheart, “find you something Fangs won’t be able to resist.”

You manage one last look over your shoulder before they turn you into a shop, one last glance at that devouring leer from your lover. But you watch that seductive grin instantly swallowed by a scowl as Gale grabs his elbow too. You barely hear the Wizard whining something about books and spell scrolls…

You shrug. Astarion would manage. Some time where he wasn’t trying to bury his cock balls deep in your thighs for once might be good for him.

The shops flash by you, a whirlwind of coin and scents and giggles, mirth and merriment. Something you and your friends haven’t had… ever. You hold too many parcels and pouches. Of course it would be easier to stash most of it into pockets or your pack if you still wore your nice, sensible armor. But no. Karlach wouldn’t let you out the door to the clothing shop without putting on that sweet little gown you bought. So now, you walk down the street, arms laden with parcels, your thighs rubbing together without the practicality of pants, the slits up the skirt over the fronts of your thighs almost too high as you shuffle your load. Not to mention how the sun is beating on your shoulders and the tops of your breasts that hadn’t seen light since you began this journey.

You had too many things: a book for Gale, some soaps for Halsin, a bottle of Baldur’s Grape for Wyll… but you needed to return now. Karlach and Shadowheart wanted to push on, so many more stores around this corner or that one.

But you needed a rest. And someone to carry your shit.

It’s only after you make a right, you realize it’s the wrong turn. Crates line the alley, and your arms are just too sore to keep going. Resolved to rest a moment, you set your gifts down, looking at the end of the narrow way to where it hangs over the Chionthar River.

“Lost, darling?” you feel his breath on your neck even as his words barely leave his lips. Astarion hovers right over your shoulder, how he snuck up on you so quickly, you can only shake your head.

“Typical rogue,” you huff an exhausted laugh. “Just couldn’t help being a prick and being stealthy at the same time?”

“I believe you mean, typical hero, coming to save his damsel in distress, lost in the sea of the City,” he flashes you that fanged smirk that makes your stomach flutter. “How fortunate I am here, with my skills and knowledge…”

Your turn in the little space he’s given you, between that crate behind you now and his looming body before.

“My hero, come to the rescue,” you simper, very much aware of the ways his eyes are dilating as they dart over your cleavage, down your lean but unsunned arms, even to where your new dress sinches at your waist.

“Heroes are usually rewarded handsomely for their efforts, darling….”

You feel him closing in on you, his thighs butting up into your skirts, but you giggle as you reach for one long, wrapped parcel from the stack beside you. “Here, hero,” you tease. “A different sort of weapon you enjoy sheathing than the one I think is on your mind.”

His brow arches, a pleasant smile on his thick lips. He leans back just a bit, reluctant but curious about what gift you’ve set in his hands. The paper and cloth tumbles at your feet, revealing a shining new dagger, a blade nice and light as he pulls it slightly from its scabbard. “My, my,” he tries to sound smooth, trying hard to hide the lump in his throat at the thoughtfulness of your gift. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He smiles, a true grin that deepens the wrinkles by his eyes, but it only happens once he turns away a bit, thinking himself mostly out of view. His hands slip the new blade into his belt, before pulling out something from behind his back. “But this time, you’re not the only one with a surprise, I am not woefully unprepared….”

A small square box in his cold, pale palm, he opens the paper lid.

Eleven little chocolate hearts fill the lining, except for one vacant spot that stares back at you. You feel him pressing closer again, the box basically pushed against the curve of your breasts.

“You got me… chocolates?” you cock your head, picking one up and giving it a sniff.

“I’ve always wanted to have a reason to… indulge in such finery. You’ve given me more than enough reason,” he purrs. Eyes fixed as he watches you bring it closer to your mouth. “They are so… sensual and delicious, I couldn’t help but hurry to find you for a nibble.”

You squint at him, sensing there is some… game at work here. “Seems like you got peckish on your way here,” you smirk at the empty spot. “Thought you didn’t enjoy the taste of anything that wasn’t blood, my vampire.”

“For this… I made an exception,” he grins wider, and you stare into his eyes, eyes almost black as he begins to press you against the rough wood of the crate. “Taste it, my dear… it goes down so smooth, so deliciously, you’ll… burn for more.”

You lick it, feeling a foreign heat that runs right from your tongue to your belly, a sweetness to its cream that you are unfamiliar with….

“They are a specialty around these parts, darling, a little something to, well…” he catches your hand, guiding the small chocolate between your lips, “why don’t you stick it in your mouth and swallow and find out.”

Something about that tingle on your tongue already, you seem to hum with your need for more… more of the chocolate, more of him…. No.

All of him.

You smile softly, closing your eyes and opening your mouth. It’s sweet and warm and… decadent. The little treat that he places on your tongue brings you to life. And you moan with abandon, delicious little noises as you savor its taste, until you do swallow it down. Eyes still closed to the world, you feel nothing now but the way his hands have found the bare skin of your thigh. Ghosting up your flesh, his nails skate beneath the hem of your skirt, drawing it higher… higher.

His touch is warm, you notice, the only thing warmer is your own increasingly burning skin. You pant, looking into his face where he looms above you. “What’s in those… sweets?” you need to swallow midway, and somehow, being so close to him to feel his breath on your cheek only makes the burning worse.

“Aren’t they sinfully good?” his voice is deep, rumbling as his hands find purchase beneath your clothing. It takes him no effort to lift you and set your ass down on that poor, helpless crate behind you. “Lovers’ chocolates… a specialty, an indulgence from the pleasure houses on these streets. And, as I’ve never had a lover with which to share them in two-hundred years…”

You are shaking as he slots himself between your thighs, the skirt of your new dress lifted quickly around your waist. With that infamous dexterity, he slinks his fingers beneath your undergarments and inside your cunt, the chocolates already flushing your skin and soaking your folds. “Seems like the right time to indulge in the decadence?”you are slurring your words.

“Indeed.” His fingers slowly stroke you, slowly pierce deeper into your channel as his other hand pulls you right to the edge of the crate. You don’t care it’s some alleyway… that anyone could see you or hear you. Not now with the chocolate in your blood, not now with his touch crooking and thrusting into your folds.

“You’ve indulged in your own little treats, haven’t you?” he whispers right against your lips. “This dress for one, by the hells, so much easier for me to do… all manner of things now.” Just to prove his point, his free hand steals into the neckline of your bodice, pulling that breast free. Moaning, arching, you writhe as he plucks at the hardening nipple. He smirks at you, a brief little laugh on his lips before he wraps them around it and sucks.

Even his mouth is warmed, his own tasting of the chocolate raging through his body, he did have a head start after all. With how your every nerve burns and your own sex swells to be sated, you marvel at how he’s taking his own godsdamned time right now—teasing out your arousal. As if he ever needed to work hard for you to be ready for him and his cock.

Ugh… the thought of it makes you salivate. You reach for his leathers, fingers shaking and fumbling with the ties. You groan, giving up on the laces completely. Pulling the waistband down, you ease his erection free. Even that beneath your touch is hot. Swollen. Ridged with veins so risen, you can’t look away from its… beauty.

“Even more eager than usual, aren’t we darling?” he rasps against your breast. His teeth, his fangs score slightly on the pad of your nipple, making you bite your mouth shut as you scream.

“Please…” you whimper as you try to pull his hips closer by his cock. But he stands firm, fingers still sweeping inside you, mouth still teasing your flesh.

“Oh I don’t think so…” he lifts his head to place a peck on your pouting lips. “There’s so much more of you to taste first, my little treat.” He grabs into your dress once more, lifting free your other breast before he devours it with the same skill and tenacity as the other.

His tongue is wet as he swirls it, lips so skilled at sucking your flesh, by now he knows every inch of your body. But it’s the way his thumb draws over your clit, a bit harder and tougher and timed to perfection with the lap of his tongue, you burst in a searing wave of climax. Barely a warning, and you are reduced to a moaning, gushing, flailing thing. His fingers are gripped firmly inside you, hard and thrusting as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

But it’s the little pain you barely register, his fangs cutting into the top of your breast as he now feeds, that makes you almost come again, an aftershock to the intensity of the first. You gasp for air in your burning lungs, somehow you’ve managed to hold his cock through all your throes and shocks of orgasm. And now, he bucks into your fist, growing harder and harder the more and more he feeds.

Astarion’s fingers slide out from in you with a squelch, hips rolling with increased force into your grip. “You just had to treat yourself to a dress but insist on keeping those undergarments? Tch,” he sucks his teeth as he shakes his head in mock disapproval. “You’ll know better for next time, won’t you.”

“Whatever you think best,” you grin, half-unknowing the words coming from your mouth. Your hips buck for more… that heat in your body growing more and more unbearable, despite the soothing warmth from your single climax.

Gracefully, he leans in all the closer, unsheathing that new little dagger you got him. You feel it’s cool, deadly edge press softly at the base of your neck. “Shh, shh, shh,” he smirks with lust-dark eyes. Down to his dangerous smile, he mimics how you first met. “Not a sound now…. But those undergarments of your will just have to go… have to be sacrificed for what I need to do to you….”

You shake in anticipation, eyes fixed on his sultry, arrogant, fang-toothed grin as he slinks lower. That blade leaves your neck, perfectly intact. But as he steals its point beneath your skirts, its sharpened edge cuts the thin material of your underwear. Material ripping meets your ears as he performs the same little flick of his wrist against your other hip. Standing and returning his blade, he pulls the silky band out from under you.

“Seems I’ve done you a favor.” He leers down at you, palming your undergarments, smelling them, and putting them in his pocket. “You’ve already simply ruined these already, at any rate.”

You reach for his waist, the air kissing your wet folds too much now. He could stand there and taunt for so much longer, but it’s too much to bear. You guide that thick, warm, blunted head of his cock between your thighs, wrapping your legs around him until he’s filled you.

He practically mewls your name at the force. “Gods, I should have known not to underestimate what those chocolates would do to you, darling.”

He grunts the last word as you buck against him, trying to make him start taking you. Coaxing him just a bit deeper in. He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Not with the way your cheeks must be glowing red with how hot they feel… not with the way you feel your arousal soaking the top of the crate now, growing cold as it leaves your burning body.

Hands grip the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, holding you firmly in place as he takes control. Eyes almost black, skin un-undeadly hot where he touches you, he feels so good… better than ever… the pulsing of his thrusts consuming you and sating that fire the chocolate has put in your belly. All you can do is grab him by that sweet ruffled collar, inch your way around his neck, and hold on for dear life.

That tightly held veil of refinement begins to slip, you hear it in the snap of his hips into you and against the crate, in the feral growls he makes each time he pierces harder and harder into you….

You crane your head back, mouth panting and wide as you show him what else you want him to do… you bear your teeth at him with a playful snap.

It’s more invitation than he needs, fangs sinking into the crook of your neck, the top of your shoulder. Bite… suck… swallow. Then he lifts again, repeating the same into your pounding artery. Bite… you moan so loudly…. Suck… his lips pull so hard on your flesh you can feel it bruising… Swallow… he lifts his head to pant for air. The most self-satisfied smirk on his sharp, pale face before he yanks your neck to the other side, leaving you a match set of bites there.

Bite…

You flood with pleasure, cresting over the edge harder than you could imagine.

Suck…

Your walls suck him in too, trapping him as he begins to stilt and buck harder. Climax for him sweeping him away harder too.

Swallow…

You scream into the mass of his silver curls, trying to muffle your cries where he’s lowered to feed on the top of your breast.

But he arches back, letting out his own panting groan, coming and ramming hard into you at last. You pray the crate doesn’t give under you with a laugh. Your hands steal into his hair, caressing down his smirking cheeks.

“How… many more of those chocolates did you get…?” the question barely carries on your breathless voice.

“Not enough,” he groans, licking the last trickles of your blood as he tucks your breasts back into the neck of your dress. What was your new dress. He chuckles, deep in his chest, cock still buried inside you. Reading your thoughts. “Don’t you fret, darling. I’ll buy you another dress. One for each I ruin.”

“Oh because…” you laugh, waving your hand down your front. “This level of violence will happen to my dresses again?”

“Every time you wear one, my love,” he breathes his own laugh before he finally… at long last… catches your lips in a slow and lingering kiss. “Undoubtedly every time.”

You shake your head even as his lips continue to work yours, as his hand winds into the hair at the base of your neck.

“Karlach and Shadowheart are going to give me such grief…”

“Only because they were right… I just couldn’t keep hand or fang off you, my darling.”

682 notes · View notes

tealfloyd · 1 year ago

Text

ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:

"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.

I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.

"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"

"No fair! I wanted that too!"

Thank you and have a great day!"

AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S

“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”

SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.

CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical.

A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.

Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)

WORDS: 10K+

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.

Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.

And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.

You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.

“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.

All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.

Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.

“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.

"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.

"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.

"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.

Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.

“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”

“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”

“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”

They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.

“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”

“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.

“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”

“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.

“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.

“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.

It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.

But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”

He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!”

And so, a genius idea was born.

“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.

“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.

“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.

“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”

“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.

“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.

“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”

Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.

“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.

“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.

“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.

“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.

“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”

And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL

Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.

Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.

Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.

"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.

"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.

"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"

“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”

The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.

"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.

"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.

“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.

"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."

And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.

"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"

"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"

In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.

Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.

Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.

Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.

Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.

Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.

Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.

Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.

Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.

Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.

Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!

You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.

"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"

"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"

"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."

"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"

“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”

"Why did that sound so condescending...?"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW

Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.

The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.

“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”

"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.

“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.

Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.

"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.

"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.

"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"

And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.

Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.

And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.

"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.

"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.

"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.

The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.

"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.

"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.

"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.

"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.

"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!"

And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.

Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.

Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.

Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.

Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?

Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves.

Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.

Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.

"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"

"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."

"What did you say?"

"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."

"Hey, come back!"

"We haven't even started on your present!"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE

Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.

"Henchman?" Grim started.

"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.

"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"

"What do you mean?"

"Floyd and Jade aren't here."

And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.

"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.

Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.

You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.

"Henchman," he started again.

"Yeah?" you answered a second time.

"I think there's someone behind us—"

Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:

"Shrimpy~!"

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."

Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.

"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.

"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.

"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"

"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.

"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."

"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"

"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.

"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"

"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."

"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.

"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.

Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.

"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!"

You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.

"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).

Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.

Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.

Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.

Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.

Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.

Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess.

If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.

"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."

"Aren't you going with us, boss?"

"Yeah! That's really unfair!"

"I have some important things that I have to take care of."

"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."

"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"

"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."

"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"

"Of course, Floyd."

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA

Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.

"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."

"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."

Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"

"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."

"And where are they then?"

"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.

You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.

"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"

"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.

"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"

"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.

"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”

"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.

"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."

"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"

Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.

"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."

Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.

"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"

Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.

Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.

Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.

Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.

Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.

Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.

“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”

“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

“...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE

Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.

But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.

“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”

“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”

“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.

“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.

“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.

“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.

“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”

“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”

“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was.

“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”

The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.

It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.

“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.

“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”

Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.

“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.

“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”

“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.

You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”

“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.

“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.

And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.

Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.

Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.

Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.

Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.

Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)

Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?

Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).

“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”

“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”

“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”

“Quit that, please...”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”

“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE

Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.

It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.

And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.

After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.

Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.

“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”

You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.

Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.

“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.

As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.

“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.

“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.

“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”

In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”

“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.

“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.

“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.

“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.

“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”

He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”

“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.

Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.

Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.

Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA

Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.

“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”

No response.

“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—”

“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.

“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.

If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.

Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.

It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there.

Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.

“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.

“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag.

He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”

“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”

“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.

“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.

“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”

You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”

Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.

“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift.

Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.

Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.

And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.

Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.

“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”

“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”

You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”

“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.

You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.

Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.

Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.

Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.

Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.

Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.

Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.

Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.

Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?

Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.

“How come I didn’t know about this...”

“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”

“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”

“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”

“N-nothing!”

“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”

“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”

“Father, please don’t.”

INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE

The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.

“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.

“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”

When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.

“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”

“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.

“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.

After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 10 months ago

Text

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña

Summary: You've never been the biggest fan of Valentine's Day. But when you and Javi celebrate it for the first time together, he goes out of his way to make sure it's everything you want and more.

Pairing: Fiancé!Javier Peña x F!Reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do that pls), face sitting, oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (it's me), PREMATURE EJACULATION, cumming untouched, subby Javi (he is no better than a teenage boy and can barley keep it together bc he is so obsessed with you AH), Javi picks you up to carry you, Javi being a hopeless romantic, sweet, cute fluff bc I said so

A/N: HEYOOOO. It's me, back with our favorite menace couple 🤪 You know damn well Javi goes all out for Valentine's Day, bc Javier Peña is a man in LOVE and the world's biggest softie (I will not be taking counter arguments, it's fact). So in love, in fact, that sometimes, things are finished before they're even started!!! Happy Valentine's Day, Y'all!! 🫣💕 Unbeta'd bc my body won't let me sleep and I'm too exhausted to edit

Can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

You hated Valentine’s Day.

Well… Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word strong enough to try and convince Javi that the last thing he needed to worry about doing was going all out for you on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Because for a very long time, all Valentine’s day was for you was just that- another day in the middle of winter.

For as long as you could remember, you had either spent Valentine’s day alone, wishing you had someone special to share it with, or the person you were sharing it with really didn’t give a shit about you, bought you some chocolate and flowers to cover their ass and called it a day. Your most recent ex had been kind enough to follow your request about not making the holiday anything special by forgetting about it completely and ditching you to go to a hockey game with his friends and then drunkenly calling you to come pick him up that night.

It was safe to say that Valentine’s day really didn’t mean much to you at all, or at least you thought it wouldn’t, until you’d met Javier Peña- A man who had quite literally bumped into you and proceeded to change the course of your life for the better and found yourself falling head over heels for, so much so, that it didn’t take you long to realize there was no one else that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with than him- leaving your first Valentine’s day together also the first time celebrating the holiday with your fiancé, now that the two of you had gotten engaged. It also meant your first of many years of having to convince Javi that he really didn’t need to do anything special for you to celebrate, and that just getting to spend time with him was more than enough for you.

Unfortunately, it was not good enough for Javi.

“Baby, I’m being serious, I promise I do not care. I would be happy if all we did was got pizza and watched TV together. All I wanna do for Valentine’s Day is just spend time with you. I don’t need a random weekday in February for you to prove that you love me, I think you’ve already proven that, Jav.” You laughed, pausing from washing dishes to pull your left hand out of the kitchen sink to point to the engagement ring on your finger. You found yourself now laughing even harder at Javi’s audible sigh as he snuck behind you, flushing his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, practically feeling the weight of his signature puppy dog pout drooping on you.

“I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day. I’m not gonna not do anything. And you deserve much more than pizza.” Javi sighed, pressing a kiss on your cheek, squeezing you in his grasp just a little tighter, making you giggle as he flipped you around to face him, caging you under his broad body against the kitchen counter. “You have to let me do something for you, Hermosa.”

“I don’t know Jav, pizza does sound really good. You really think you’re gonna be able to top pizza?” You teased, raising your eyebrow at him and sporting a sarcastic smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Oh shut up, you dork. Seriously, Osita. I totally get if you don’t wanna do anything big, but, I am not doing nothing for my beautiful fiancé on Valentine’s Day. You deserve it. How about this? If you don’t wanna go out, then I am making us reservations here at Restaurant Peña.”

“Oh, Restaurant Peña? They must be new around here, never heard of them before. Does the chef take requests?” You smirked, biting down on your lip to keep your goofy grin from growing between your cheeks, only giggling more as Javi leaned in to pepper ticklish kisses across your face.

“Normally, no, but I have a feeling the chef can make an exception for you.

“Does the chef make pizza?”

“The chef will make fucking pizza if you want pizza.” Javi laughed, rolling his eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around in a fit of laughter before setting you down on top of the kitchen counter, slotting himself in the open space in between your legs and digging his fingers into your hips. “Whatever you want, baby, I’ll make it for you.”

“You choose, Chef Peña. Surprise me.”

“Hermosa, you hate surprises.”

“Well, then whatever you’re making better be good.” You shrugged, cocking your head to the side with a smug grin.

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, no shocker there. Seriously though, thank you, Javi. This is really sweet of you. You know you don’t-”

Cutting you off, Javi brought his lips to yours, cradling your jaw as he swallowed the rest of your sentence, making your heart flutter from the electric kiss your fiance had just given you to politely shut you up.

“I know I don’t. But I want to. Te amo, tozuda (I love you, stubborn).”

“I love you too, pendejo (jerk). Now help me down, I have dishes to finish and a menu to plan for Laredo’s newest top chef.”

As you pulled up to the parking lot of your apartment, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that Javi had already beat you home to get a head start on your Valentine’s Day dinner, laughing to yourself in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky that you had found someone that genuinely cared this much about making something so special just for you.

As you fumbled for your keys and pushed open your front door, you saw your apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered around the living room and kitchen, the shadows of the flames flickering and dancing along the walls. You could hear soft music and pans sizzling in the kitchen, along with the sweet humming of Javi’s voice. You closed the door behind you, taking a few more shocked steps into the living room before Javi noticed your presence.

He grinned, quickly setting down what he was working and wiping his hands on the towel he had tucked in his waistband while he was cooking before coming over to cup your face for a long, sweet kiss that made your heart race, leaving you speechless.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi amor.” He cooed, now pulling away from his embrace to reach behind you for the bouquet of daisies that had been hiding on the entryway table, handing them over to you with another peck on the cheek.

“Javi, these are, baby, these are beautiful. Did you- you left work early just to do all this?” You grinned, burying your nose in the flowers before looking around the living room to admire the setup Javi had prepared for the two of you, finally meeting his soft, sweet gaze staring down at you.

“Maybe. You’re Restaurant Peña’s first customer, wanted to make a good impression. Speaking of which, dinner is almost done, and as much as I would love to do nothing but stand here and kiss you, the chef doesn’t want to be the first meal he serves to be burned to a crisp.”

“Well in that case,” You paused, giggling as you pressed up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his plush lips, “I better go change for this classy event. Can’t wait to see what the chef has in store.”

Handing your flowers back to Javi, you set down the rest of your things from work, and quickly scampered back towards your bedroom, peeking back out of the doorway to shoot Javi a quick wink, making him quietly laugh to himself as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head, trying to hide the completely lovestruck smirk plastered all over his face before heading back to the kitchen.

Gently closing the door behind you, your face mirrored Javi’s, heat creeping through your cheeks, grinning to yourself as you made your way to your dresser, starting to shuffle through your top drawer, looking for personal Valentine’s Day gift for your fiancé that had been hidden away under your folded piles of socks and underwear.

After digging for a few moments, you felt the lacy texture running through your fingers, pulling out the new lingerie set you had bought a few days ago to surprise Javi with. You quickly shimmied out of your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket next to your bed before slipping the delicate fabric over your body. Although this wasn't the first time you had surprised Javi with an outfit like this, you’d never get over his awestruck reaction, watching his eyes grow wide with his hungry gaze, ravishing in every inch of you, barley keeping himself together enough even remain coherent as you revealed yourself to him.

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you pulled one of your nicer, fitted black dresses out of your closet, hiding the matching red bra and thong held up by the lacy garters around your thighs, quickly touching up your hair and makeup from your long work day before making your way back out into the kitchen to greet Javi, back turned to you as he picked up two plates off the counter to bring to the table, nearly dropping them in the process as he turned around to see you standing in front of him.

“Fuck me…” He muttered under his breath, his jaw nearly dropping as he gave you another once over after looking you up and down, having to shake his head to snap himself back to reality, having enough sense to set his plates full of food down on the table before they ended up on the floor. “Baby, you look- fuck, you look fucking stunning.”

“I heard Restaurant Peña’s a nice place, figured I should dress for the occasion. Plus,” You smirked, taking the few steps to close the space between you and Javi, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing up on your tiptoes to giggle in his ear, “I heard the chef here is really sexy. I’m really hoping that he’s free after dinner so I can treat him to some dessert.”

“Jesus fucking Christ… Hermosa, if you keep talking like that, we’re not gonna make it to dinner.” Javi groaned, biting down on his lip as he looked down at your mischievous grin, letting out another deep breath as his hands traveled down the curves of your waist, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, kneading it over the fitted fabric covering it. “Fuck… can we just skip dinner and go straight to des-”

“Javi! No! You made me this whole delicious meal, I am not letting you skip this because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, giving Javi a playful nudge, taking a step back to cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him to tease him, even you knew damn well you would have been more than happy to give in to Javi’s plan, but the gurgle in your stomach and the inkling you were going to need some energy for the night ahead gave you enough logic to at least have some rational thinking left in your brain.

“Fine…” Javi sighed, holding up his hands in defense, laughing at your sassy remark, stepping back to the table to put both your plates in their rightful spots before making his way over to your chair to pull it out for you, leaning down to whisper in your ear as you sat down, the hot breath of his words dancing across your neck as he spoke. “Can you blame me when you look like this? You keep fucking teasing me like that, Hermosa, and dessert’s about to get very interesting.”

You could feel the rasp of his voice shoot straight to your core, your thighs instinctively clenching together to try to keep the ache growing between your legs at bay, letting the softest moan escape from your lips, using every ounce of brain power you had left to try and conjure up some sort of response.

“Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Depends, which one do you want it to be?”

“Whatever the chef wants.”

Although the dinner that Javi had cooked was absolutely delicious, after adding a few glasses of wine during your meal to the already thick and palpable sexual tension in your kitchen was not helping either of your causes, the two of you probably rushing through eating much faster than you had intended to when the night had begun.

Taking the final sips left in your glass and watching the last bits of your plate cleared, all your inhibitions had been thrown out the window, giving Javi longing look as you stood up out of your chair, pushing in your seat and slowly slinking your way over to Javi, lifting your leg over his lap as you straddled him in his spot, your hands slowly running up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt and carefully unbuttoning button by button as you nipped at his ear.

“So, are you ready for dessert? I think I have a treat for you that you’re gonna like.” You rasped, trailing kisses across his neck and jaw, your lips meeting his in an electric passion, catching the muffled moan escaping his mouth as you began swirling your hips feeling the bulge beginning to grow in his pants.

“Fuck… Yeah? You gonna tell me what it is, huh, Hermosa?” Javi groaned, his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pressing you down further into his crotch, making you whine as you felt his hard length beneath you rubbing against you, only fueling the fire burning in your stomach and the wet patch growing in your underwear.

“Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out.”

You could barley finish your sentence before Javi was tightening his grip around you, standing up out of the chair to lift you up as he stood, carrying you to the bedroom as you stumbled down the hallway, becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth as the back of Javi’s knees finally hit the bed, situating you back in his lap. His hands roamed relentlessly over your body, letting his hands creep up your thighs, pushing up your dress high enough to stop in his tracks as he felt the lace of your garter band, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the realization of what treat you had to offer for him.

“Oh fuck… Baby, are you- what do you have on under here?” He asked, breathlessly, very clearly knowing the answer before he had even asked the question, his hands now pushing further up your legs, his fingers dancing across the delicate waistband of your thong as he looked up at you with his pleading brown eyes, now growing darker and darker with lust.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi.” You mewled, reaching behind you to unzip the back of your dress, letting it fall of your shoulders and reveal the red bustier underneath, the floral, lacy pattern leaving very little to the imagination, and leaving Javi’s jaw to practically drop to the floor as you showed off your hidden outfit.

“Osita… Fuck… This all for me, sweet girl? Jesus Christ.” he practically whispered to himself in disbelief, soaking in every inch of you as you stepped of back off his lap to let your dress fall to the floor, unveiling your lingerie in its entirety in front of him. Letting his elbows rest on his knees, he brought his hand over his mouth, gaping open in awe, soon balling his hand into a fist and biting down on his knuckle as you slowly turned around in a circle, showing off all angles of yourself before meeting Javi’s gaze again, smirking to yourself at the incomprehensible mess your fiance had become.

“You like it?” You giggled, raising a knowing eyebrow at Javi as you stepped back towards him, running your hands up his strong thighs hanging over the edge of the bed, letting your fingers barley brush over the undeniable tent in his pants, teasing at his belt buckle before dragging your hands back down, resting on his knees.

“Y-yeah, I- yeah, fuck.” Javi gulped, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to find a way to string together a coherent sentence as you let your fingers trace over his legs and crotch, melting into a puddle under your touch.

“Yeah? I had a feeling.” You smirked, now palming at the bulge in his pants more firmly, eliciting another audible moan from Javi, his breath becoming heavy and shaky as you sat yourself back over his lap, your ass resting perfectly on top of his erection as you began to slowly swirl your hips over his. Your hands worked their way down the rest of the buttons of his shirt, creeping between the parted fabric to rest your hands on his bare chest, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you sucked at his pulse point, whispering against his skin. “You gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, baby?”

There were few times in his life where Javier Peña had found himself at a complete loss for words, but you had him wrapped around your finger as you sat in his lap, all dressed up just for him, whispering sweet praises in his ear did something to him that even he couldn’t quite comprehend. Truth be told, the only thought he could process right now was the all too familiar clench in his stomach and tightening in his balls leaving him on the verge of busting in his pants before you had even touched him.

Scrunching his face in concentration, Javi nodded rapidly as his hands dug a bruising grip into your hips, every grind of your ass against his crotch only tightening the undeniable knot in his gut. Javi was convinced he’d be strong enough to keep it in check, as long he could use every ounce of his being to focus on not falling apart. But that was before you decided to fight dirty and press every button you knew to make Javi absolutely crumble.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me, baby. You want me to touch you, Javi? Let me make you feel good, sweet boy.” You cooed, nipping at his ear as your hands ran through the thick, dark curls of his hair before sliding down the width of his broad shoulders, sliding his shirt down his arms and gripping around his biceps as you sunk your hips deeper and deeper into his lap.

Before he even had time to process what was happening, Javi found himself instinctively bucking his hips up into you, holding on to you for dear life as he let out an absolutely wrecked moan, slumping his head into your shoulder as you felt a warm, wet sensation begin to spread below you.

“Fuck… Fuck me…” He whispered, silently cursing himself over his shallow breathing, making you pause in confusion as you looked down at Javi, taking a moment to quickly piece together in your brain what had just happened.

Javi had just cum in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“Javi…Javi, did you just-”

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck me.” Javi grimaced, running his hand over his face, tilting his head back up towards the ceiling, his cheeks turning red in pained embarrassment, not even able to bring himself to make eye contact with you until you brought your hand under his cheek, gently cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze onto you, locking his lips in an intense kiss before either of you had the chance to speak.

“Well, that’s a first.” You giggled, trying your best to lighten Javi’s clearly distraught mood, feeling his pouty frown through your kiss. “Javi, it’s okay, we can just- Oh!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s back was to the bed, dragging your body across his chest until you were straddling just below his shoulders, his hands digging into your ass and pulling you closer towards him.

“Nuh uh. I just need a few. Lemme make you feel good, baby. Please. Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy, I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you, please, Osita.”

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself like this- you being the one who turned Javi into a whimpering and babbling mess, begging for forgiveness. And even though it was a position you found yourself in often, you very well knew that you were going to take advantage of every last second.

“Oh yeah? And how are you planning on making it up to me, Javi?” You cooed, cocking your head to the side apathetically, arms crossed over your chest as you sat straddling Javi’s.

“Sit on my face, baby, please. Fuck, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I wanna taste you so bad.” Javi moaned, his sweet, brown eyes pleading with you for just a taste of the arousal that had been steadily pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” You paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a passionate kiss, your teeth tugging at his plush bottom lip as you pulled away to nip at his jaw, “and what if I still want you to fill me up after you’re done? What if I need you to fuck me full of you?”

“Jesus fuck…” Javi groaned under his shallow breathing, “I’ll give you whatever you want, Hermosa. I promise.”

“Good boy.” You mewled, running your hands through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair before shuffling your body so your lace covered and soaking heat was hovering over Javi’s face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit, nudging your panties out of the way. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced your hands by burying them in his hair, tugging at the ends of his thick curls.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You cried, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning. Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high.

Dipping his tongue into your hole, his muscle plunged into your cunt, drinking up your arousal while the bridge of his nose brushed against your clit, making good on his promise to redeem himself from earlier, not letting up until he felt your body tense and legs begin to shake as you came again, feeling about as sturdy as a pile of jello at this point.

Your body went slack, draping your upper half over Javi’s body as you felt his face free from out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin and pleading eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and gazing back up at you.

You had caught your breath enough to sit yourself back up, looking over your shoulder to see the bulge in Javi’s pants was back in full force, slowly scooting your way down his chest and stomach to sit yourself back on his lap, grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you began to gently tug at the straps of your bra, letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby? You’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up like you promised? You smirked, slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor and leave your top completely bare.

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.

“Good.” You smirked, “Gotta ask nicely, though.”

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his pants down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had left additional stains on his boxers, mixing with his premature spend from earlier.

“Hermosa, please. Please, baby. I need you to fuck me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft.

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the arousal that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him.

With his shaft sufficiently slick, the both of you gasped as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. Can’t wait to feel you dripping down my thighs. Gonna keep me full of you all night.”

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly.

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.”

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone again. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your bedroom as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.”

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.”

It wasn’t often that you had seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had crossed the threshold of your bedroom, and holy shit, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Javi had already cum once without you even touching him, and now, he was so worked up he was teetering on the brink of falling apart again.

In a frantic desperation, Javi sat himself up, caging your chest against his, wrapping his arms around your back as he held you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck, sweaty curls of his hair resting against your shoulder, while he fucked up into you, each thrust becoming reckless than the last.

“Oh fuck, Javi, fuck, don’t stop- fuck, fuck, I’m gonn-ahhhhh”

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as you felt your body go numb, euphoria flowing through your veins while Javi fucked you through your high, quickly chasing his own.

“That’s it baby. Fuck, Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” Javi quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside your pussy, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth.

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi muttered under his breath, his body still slumped into yours until you began running your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look back up at you, the blissed out grins on both your faces making you let out a quiet laugh of surprised disbelief at what had just happened.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier Pena.” You giggled, cupping his face, tilting it up towards yours and locking his lips in a long and tender kiss.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, baby. Fuck, that was hot. Sorry, uh- sorry about earlier.” He sighed sheepishly, gesturing over to the very thoroughly stained pair of pants now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“It’s okay. Definitely a good confidence booster if me putting some lingerie on for you is enough to make you blow your load faster than a middle school boy.” You snickered, giving Javi a playful nudge as he rolled his eyes at you, letting out a little sigh.

“Shut up. You have no fucking idea. God, you’re so fucking sexy, you know that? I can’t believe you get to be my Valentine for the rest of my life. I’m a lucky fucking man, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I could say the same, handsome. I love you, Javi. Alright, what do you say we go clean up so we can have real dessert. I have a whole plate full of cookies left over from our class party, along with some very questionable candy from several 3rd graders.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan to me.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

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tteokdoroki · 10 months ago

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hi hi !! :3 first off ur new theme is soo so cute!! n for your valentines event i wanted to send in one for satoru + an amusement park date as the gift !! you can make it sweet or spicy but i don’t have a specific kink in mind for it so that’s free range for ya ehehe

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe spicy: high on you.

about. boom, it’s a match! satoru gojo has always come up with creative ways to celebrate the most romantic day of the year. this time, he decides to make things a little naughtier atop a ferris wheel ride ( 1.4K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, established relationships, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, also ik ferris wheels don’t exist at amusement parks shuddap!! fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

every valentine’s day you’ve spent with satoru has been unique. different.

for your first, he’d filled every corner of your apartment with every type of flower he could possible find because he wasn’t sure what type was your favourite (he was too nervous to ask). for the second, he’d rented out an entire aquarium for you to walk through and dragging him through each exhibition with pure unfiltered joy. for the Valentine’s Day that he had proposed — your third or fourth, satoru had rented a plane that carried the message ‘will you marry me?’ to fly over your rooftop dinner date. you’d said yes, of course, and every day with satoru since had been a wild ride.

even now, years into your life together, he remained just as crafty and as adventurous as satoru’s gojo had always been.

“s-satoru!” you squeal needily, tucking your face into your lover’s shoulder in a weak attempt to muffle your weak cries and trembling voice. “‘toru please. n-not here. n-not now,” you add when his slender and inquisitive fingers dip past the waistband of your jeans and the scalloped edge of your cotton panties. he’s been like this all day, feeling you up in line for different rides, licking the sugar from your fingers outside overpriced concessions stands dotted across the amusement park he'd taken you to. and now, satoru’s ravenousness has come to a head — with him trying to finger fuck you at the top of the ferris wheel. “p-people are around!”

while typically a romantic spot to watch the world go by, the white haired man has his heart set on making you squirm and cry at the highest peak of the ride. “that’s what makes this all the more fun, right baby?” his digits flex under the rough denim of your jeans in an attempt to get a feel for your wetness all while gojo whispers sinful words against the shell of your ear — hot breath cascading down the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. “relax for me, we’re too high up for anyone to notice. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

your hips buck down against your lover’s hand for a taste of friction — chasing the blistering hot sensation that spreads through your lower tummy once his fingertips come into contact with your swelling, pulsating clit. the very notion of your body succumbing to a few of gojo’s simple touches has him chuckling breathily in your ear, his voice an octave lower than usual. you can’t help the instinctual response of your quivering, a stream of wetness gathering in the seat of your underwear too.

“do you think i can make you cum by the time we reach the top?” satoru mumbles huskily, lowering his head to your neck so that he can place hot, sloppy kisses to your exposed skin — contrasting with the night air. tufts of white hair tickle at your jaw, sending you into a fit of shakes and shivers that make your cart of the ferris wheel rock back and forth. “don’t answer that, i know i can.” he’s cocky when he teases you and has every right to be, your thighs twitch apart instinctively to make space for satoru’s hand between them.

he skilfully massages your pretty little pussy even from underneath tight denim jeans, circling in your entrance as it dribbles sweet salacious nectar for him. so much so, that you might soil the fabric of your clothes. if your arousal seeps through, would you drip and gush on all those people below? the thought crosses your might and only serves to turn you on even more — evident in the way you clench around nothing as gojo plays with your empty hole.

“m-mph, satoru,” you hiccup, only tilting your head to face his. your noses nudge slightly, lips ghosting over one another’s while your hot breath mingles. to anyone else — you appear a couple in love, innocently kissing, enjoying a date to the amusement park, and a ride to the top of the ferris wheel. but you’re far from that, and you know it, two delightfully sinful individuals who can’t keep their hands off of one another. “m-more!”

gojo obliges, and you thank whatever diety is up above for blessing him with such magical fingers. two of them slide past your entrance without resistance, stretching your gooey and sensitive walls around their length easily. “hm? what’s the matter, baby?” comes the silver haired man’s lazy response, a sleazy smirk spreading across his plush pink lips at the sound of you squelching around him already. you shake your head at his question, eyes screwed shut since you’re too far gone with the pleasure to answer coherently.

from your side, gojo uses his free hand to keep you nice and spread for him — sapphire eyes glowing in the dark night whilst remaining trained on the way your hips jut down to push back against his fingers inside of you. “god you’re so fuckin’ wet. you really like this, huh? all tbose unsuspecting people below…having no idea that i’m fucking your pussy open right above their heads,” he purrs hungrily and curls his fingers, instantly finding your g-spot because he’s mapped out every inch of your sopping walls and knows them off by heart. “taste yourself for me.”

your lips part on command and tongue rolls out of your mouth to make room for the fingers that have been inside you — sucking on them diligently when satoru presses down on the palette of your tongue. he gets off to the way you taste yourself, moaning around him nastily. you should feel shame and humiliation for acting like this in public, all desperate and needy, but you’re as ravenous and as depraved as satoru is. it’s what makes you a match made in heaven.

with his fingers now tainted with a crude mix of your saliva and arousal, satoru returns them to your temperate and sopping mound — stuffing you full of him once more. he’s knuckle deep in your cunt before you can even moan his name, stroking your insides into the shape of him while you drool syrupy evidence of your arousal into the seat of his palm.

“we’re almost to the top, brace yourself, pretty girl. i gotta see you cum. it’ll give me the prettiest view.” satoru coos to you patronisingly, making sure to grind his wrist against your puffy clit — refusing to let it go unattended. “can you do that for me?”

everything is so sticky and hot, especially with all of the layers of clothes in the way — shielding your dirty act from any onlookers on the ground or in the carts below you. strings of your slick tie satoru’s fingers to your honeyed sex and glue this thumb to your sensitive nub, tucked away between your puffy pussy lips. you claw at the silver haired man’s arm trapped in the middle of your quivering thighs band writhe around in the cart so much so that it creaks with the weight.

you whimper into the cool night air, but satoru lights your body on fire from the inside out — your gut lurching and twisting with an unbearable sense of yearning. “‘m close… think i’m gonna—“ you begin to stutter, bleating like a lamb being sent to the slaughter. you remain at the mercy of your boyfriend’s fast paced fingers, pumping in and out of you with no regard to the painful stack of ecstasy building up inside of you. “please, i can’t hold it, ‘toru,”

“you don’t have to,” your lover tsks in reply, never slowing the speed of his digits stroking at your ribbed walls, slipping and sliding against pleasure spots only he knows exist. “why don’t you let go for me, yeah? there you go. that’s it… just like that and all for me,” satoru’s mouth find yours in the final stretch, sloppy praises whispered against your kiss swollen lips while he rubs over your luscious and equally swollen folds like his life depends on it. “let the people down there know how fuckin’ good i finger fuck this sweet pussy. cum for me baby, i know you can do it.”

each syllable, each impassioned word that escapes him and that he pours into you drags you by the ankle towards your high — and you don’t even try to fight it. once you reach the very top of the ferris wheel, your peak reaches a crescendo. satoru flings himself over you, arm arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you in place in the cart as your orgasm crashes over you in drowning waves. you slip beneath the surface of pleasure, your cunt rushing like a river while you cum all over satoru’s masterful hand with a muffled cry of his name.

“satoru!”

“shh, quiet…that’s my girl, my sweet sweet girl.” he sighs dreamily, fucking you with your fingers throughout your high — only pulling out of your greedy cunt to slap down on it, dragging more spurts of arousal out of you. you squirt through your jeans, onto the metal seat in your ferris wheel cart and all over satoru. who happily praises you through it all. “i bet you’re just drippin’ on all those nasty strangers below. i’m sure they’d love it.”

catching your breath, you tuck your face into satoru’s neck while you come down from your high (and literally too — your cart begins to make its descent back town from the top of the ferris wheel). “y-you’re sick.”

satoru smiles, slow and sexy. “but you love me,”

“mhm, sure,” you quip, somehow finding the energy to pull away from your debauched lover to shift to your knees in front of him — the cool metal digging into your knees. “maybe i love you just a little.”

“only a little? then why are you on your knees for me?” he asks, spreading his legs to make room for you between them.

“it’s your turn, i want to see if i can make you come before we get to the bottom of the wheel.” you say breathlessly and with mirthy eyes, teeth descending on gojo’s zipper while you bat your eyelashes up at him.

celebrating valentine’s day with satoru was always…unique. different…but you’d be lying if you said you failed to enjoy his unconventional methods of gift giving with the person you loved most.

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lickuiddd · 10 months ago

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The Lost Boys Valentine's Day Headcanons:

Cw: brief mention of sex

A/N- Happy Valentines Day! also, first post on this blog

David:

All of the boys are romantic in their own ways, but David’s definitely the closest to a classic type of lover. Expect red roses, a gift that he got, and a romantic dinner date to end the evening.

If you decide to get something for him, he’s going to love it. Even if his reaction is simple or small, just know that it means a lot to him, especially if it’s something he can wear or carry with him; he has it on him all the time.

He may not usually be the most openly affectionate, but on an occasion like this, he’s making sure you feel loved by him; you're one of the most important people in his life as his partner. If he’s going to go all out, he’s going to do it right.

Given he seems like the type to enjoy more intimate moments away from an overly public atmosphere, the date and your time with him are more secluded and one-on-one. He’s got a special spot picked out for the evening, and it’s only the best, of course.

If you're not already a vampire at this point, then expect at least an attempt from David to try and turn you, because what better opportunity would he have to do that than Valentine’s Day?

Dwayne:

If any of the boys are giving you a perfect Valentine’s Day, it’s Dwayne.

He’s already a very considerate partner, but on a day like this, he’s going to try his very best to be perfect.

He’s thoughtful with his gift, and by how observant he is, his gift to you is something you’ve been wanting for a long time. Dwaynes is the type where, even if you’ve only mentioned it once or twice, or if it was something you’ve shown him during a previous time together, he’ll still remember and make sure to get exactly what you showed him.

He would have a perfect date planned and would have something on the more casual side set up, like a movie date and dinner.

Despite making plans, he’d also want to make sure that you get to decide some of the things you do together, and in the end, he's just happy to spend time with you and see you smile.

Anything you buy or make for him will put a smile on his face, and he’ll deeply appreciate it.

He’ll be telling you how much he loves you, and it’d be like the first time he did it all over again.

Paul:

If you're not already smothered by Paul’s love on a normal day, expect it to be amplified by almost triple on Valentine’s Day.

From the moment you wake up, Paul is giving you anything and everything he has and could have possibly gotten you for Valentine’s Day. Expect teddy bears, chocolate, roses—you name it, he’s bought it. He’d pick you flowers he found on one of his bike rides or find trinkets he’d think you’d like too, as well as other small gifts.

Whatever you decide to give to him, he’s going to love, and he’ll definitely show it. He’ll show off whatever you got for him to the other boys too and brag for a long time.

He’s definitely taking you on a date to the boardwalk to get food, play games, and go on rides together. He’s the type to want to share one milkshake with two straws or ride a Ferris wheel just to make out for most of the ride.

Despite all the gifts and cute dates, it’s Paul, and what would the literal day of love be without sex? Of course he would love doing all the other things, even if you didn’t want to have it, but if you let him, he’ll have you under him all night. To say the least, by the morning, you're going to have sore muscles and bruised skin from where he’s left his mark on you.

Marko:

Valentine’s Day is definitely one of Marko's favourite holidays to celebrate, especially with you. He’s a romantic guy, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show you his love.

The date he’s planned would include going for a ride on his bike along the beach, later grabbing food and just being able to walk under the moonlight while hanging out together, laughing and smiling.

Marko would get you something like chocolates and cute cards, but he would also try to make you a gift. I mean, look at his jacket; he’s a craftsy guy. He would put a lot of effort into the project, even if it ended up not turning out like he wanted it to, but it’s the thought that counts, at least.

He’d adore any gift you give him, but time with you is just as valuable to him.

Similarly to Paul, sex is something on his mind, and given the chance, he’d go down on you all night if you let him.

Out of the four, like any holiday, he does it the best.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #paul tlb x reader #david tlb x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #marko tlb x reader #slasher fanfic #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb x reader #the lost boys 1987 #slasher headcanons #the lost boys headcanon #slashers x reader

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samkerrworshipper · 10 months ago

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initiation pt.3 | barca femeni x reader

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni.

pt.1 -> pt.2

it’s not valentines here anymore but for yall who are/are not celebrating i hope this makes ur day a little bit cheekier ;)

I promise u the freaky stuff is coming but this is the buffer for that lol

Instead of waking up to a warm embrace of Keira and Lucy, you wake up to an empty bed. It takes you a few seconds to take in your surroundings, your body is tangled up in sheets and a duvet. The room is mostly dark besides some light coming in from under the door. You allow yourself to take a deep breath, breathing in the cool air around you and slowly waking yourself up. The ache between your legs is the first thing you feel, it wraps your thighs up like a warm hug and it reignites the previous desire in you as the memories of what you’d experienced only a few hours ago flash through your mind.

If it wasn’t for the bed you were in and the faint sound of moans through the walls of the house you’d probably be a little bit more concerned about your surroundings, but instead the environment you are in only brightens your mood.

It’s definitely not an unpleasant way to wake up, you absorb your surroundings and listen with a light head and fuzzy thoughts as you stretch out across the extremely comfortable mattress, bathing in the absolute serenity that you can feel across your whole body and soul. You’ve been thinking about this night since Lucy had told you about it days ago, stressing about all the different possibilities and things that could happen.

You never, not even in your craziest and wildest dream could have ever concocted some kind of idea that would come anything close to what you’d experienced in the last few hours. From the sounds of it, something was still happening and you’d be damned if you missed out on any of it, so even though it pained you to leave the bed that probably had a thread count higher than the amount of money in your bank account, it was with the hopes that you would get to experience something that was far better than any bed.

You are still as naked as ever, your whole body completely bare as you pushed yourself off the mattress and with unsteady legs onto the floor boards. The combination of the post-orgasm bliss and few hours of rest maKe you feel better than ever and without any struggle you made it to the closed door of the bedroom.

Your skin pricked up, little dots forming against your skin as your exposed body began to feel the effects of being in a room with a fan and aircon on.

You could have taken a sheet or blanket with you as coverage, but you figured that by the noises being produced your companions would be in a similar state of undress and even if they weren’t it wasn’t like they would see anything they already hadn’t.

The hallway you stepped into was empty. Although there were little thready moans coming out from some of the rooms beside your one. Because Lucy had practically carried you into the room you struggled to remember what way to go but you managed to trail your way back to the main room by following the noise that was being emitted.

The sight this time was completely different from beforehand and it took your eyes a little bit to adjust.

There were some people missing, although your brain was still too fogged up to really take account of people, just what was happening around you.

The first sight that catches your eyes is Keira, who has so many hands on her that it’s hard to tell who is who.

Ingrid is the first person you spot, mainly because she’s the least entwined in Keira’s body. She’s got the same strap on that she wore earlier when she was pounding into you, except this time it's being brutally thrusted into Keira’s throat. It’s a pretty sight, Keira’s drool and slobber all over her chin as she repeatedly gags on the strap. Frido is the second person you spot, mainly because her and Ingrid are pretty much next to eachother, the two bestfriends connected by their lips, although it’s not what captures your attention, instead you’re eyes are glued to the suctioned dildo that Frido is riding, her knees bent against the floor, pushing up and down. Your eyes don’t focus on her long, instead searching around Keira. It’s harder to figure out who is behind her, but it’s a process of elimination and spotting different heads of hair and hands. Keira is on all fours with Aitana’s mouth slurping at her from below and Marta’s fingers soundly fucking her from behind. Keira looks so blissed out, like she’s floating on a cloud of dopamine so strong that it could rival drugs.

On the couch is Alexia and Mapi, the two best friends lazily making out whilst their bodies grind down against each other in perfect synchronisation.

Before this, you were fairly sure that scissoring was a social construct, but watching Mapi and Alexia’s hips jolt out again and again is making you reconsider your beliefs.

Lucy, Ona, Jenni and Caro are on the bed, and it’s a sight that you can’t even begin to comprehend.

Ona is laid down on her back on the bed, Jenni grinding down on top of her face whilst Lucy and Caro are down the other end of Ona. At first, you think the two older players are taking both of Ona’s holes, but after a few seconds, and an angle change when Ona’s hips buck, your jaw drops in realisation that the Norwegian and English player are both fucking in and out of the same hole.

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, you can feel the arousal re building inside you as you watch Caro and Lucy brutally fuck into Ona, pretty much using her to get themselves off. Ona’s body is boneless and unmoving beside her hips which every few thrusts cant up to buck upwards.

You can’t take your eyes off of the sight, it might be rude to stare but in your opinion it would be rude not to admire the complete erotic beauty that is unfolding before your eyes.

“Hola chica.”

The words are directed at you, forcing your eyes away from Ona and to Mapi, whose head has craned backwards to look at you from her spot on top of Alexia’s lap.

There is a thin sheen of sweat across her forrid, her eyes are full of lust and she looks positively feral.

You smile at her, too terrified that if you open up your mouth you’ll say something wrong or let out one of the moans that have built up in your gut from watching Ona.

Your eyes drifted back to Keira on the floor, all three of her holes being used, quite literally having her brains fucked out.

It’s not something that you’ve ever directly desired, but right now it’s all that’s in your mind, you aren’t quite sure if you could handle it, you’ve never taken more then two fingers in your asshole and too be fucked in both fo your other holes at the same time seems like over kill, but watching Keira suddenly makes you so intrigued and suddenly attracted to what she’s enduring.

You don’t know where to go or look, but Mapi ushers you over with her hand and your brain can’t ignore her, so you put one foot in front of the other until you are standing directly in front of the two women.

Alexia smiles at you, her hands are resting on Mapi’s hips, gently helping her to grind against Ale, there isn’t much fervour or energy to it, from what you can tell, it can’t possibly be stimulating enough to put either of them anywhere near the edge, your either wrong or they just don’t mind. There are red splotches up and down Alexia’s chest, little dots and tiny teeth marks that are splattered out across Alexia’s chest and neck.

Mapi has some darker, purple marks across her neck, less than Alexia but far more noticeable.

“How’d you sleep bebita? You feeling rested and up for some more fun?”

It’s bewildering to you how level headed Mapi is considering the situation she’s in. You think about how you would behave if you were in her situation and you are fairly certain it wouldn’t be anywhere near as composed.

“Hoping I didn’t miss out on much.”

Mapi smirks, her lips parting and letting out a breathy moan as Alexia pulls her hips down harder, trying to get her own friction against her clit.

“I’m sure we can find some ways for you to make up for lost time. Come sit down next to Ale, I’m sure she’ll be able to wake you up.”

You drop your body down beside Alexia on the couch, unsure what to do but much happier with the closer proximity.

“Look at Kei, look at how good she’s being, would you like to be used like that?”

Alexia leans down to whisper the words into your ear, her voice low and drawn out.

You bite your lip, happy to let your eyes stray back to Keira, Ingrid is no longer in her mouth and Marta is no longer in her ass, instead Keira is now bouncing up and down on Ingrid’s strap, Ingrid jack-hammering into her with absolutely no mercy.

Keira looks pretty fucked out, you’ve got a better view of her face and body now that it’s not so occupied with so many hands and people.

Her mouth is permanently open, deep moans leaving her mouth every time Ingrid thrusts up into her, the other thing that catches your eye is the way that Keira’s tits bounce up and down with every single movement, her nipples are risen and hard and her right breast has a big red mark on the side of it.

Keira’s eyes are glazed over, but there’s still some form of cheekiness behind them, just from the sight of her you can tell that she’s having the most fun that you’ve seen her have in months, that she’s so incredibly at peace with Ingrid all over her.

One of Alexia’s hands fall from Mapi’s hip, down to you knee first, gently coaxing your legs apart before trailing her hand up.

You look down for a few seconds, before Alexia’s mouth is back pressed against your ears.

“Look at Oni, she’s been such a brat tonight, look how’s she’s getting fucked, look at all those bruises on her, you don’t want that do you? Don’t want to be filled up but on the edge all night, right? Little Oni thought it would be smart co cum without permission so now she has to deal with Lucia and Caro stretching her out with no relief. You don’t want that do you? You’ll be our good girl, sí?”

Your eyes lift up to Ona, her body being brutally used by Lucy, Jenni and Caro. Her pussy is still being stretched by the two women, and to think that she’s going through it without any finish is eye opening to you and also terrifying.

��Yes, Ale.”

Alexia smirks against your earlobe, her lips opening to suck down on the skin whilst her hand trailed up and down the bottom of your stomach.

“Such a good girl, so perfect, so well behaved.”

Alexia’s hand creeps down further, her lips tugging on your earlobe whilst she cups your mound, her ring and middle finger dipping between your folds for half a second to collect some of the wetness.

Alexia pulls it up to your face and after a particularly harsh nip to your ear that has your lips falling open, and Alexia’s fingers in your mouth.

Without any prompting, you suck your taste off of her, the salty and slightly sweet flavour welcome on your tongue.

“Suck.”

Alexia’s fingers are too big for your mouth, something you begin to realise as she slowly attempts to push her fingers in deeper.

By the time they’re at the back of your mouth you’re struggling to breathe, having to switch to your nasal passage to take in oxygen. By the time they’ve hit the back of your throat you are trying your hardest not to gag and to suck on them. Alexia’s lips are a distraction, her mouth has worked its way down from your earlobe and to the sensitive spot on your neck. Your moans are muffled by Alexia’s fingers, two thirds of her fingers as deep in your mouth as they can get.

It’s when your jaw relaxes for the two first knuckles that she decides it's the perfect time to force the final third in.

You gag almost immediately, your throat tightening and struggling to accommodate the extra length that your throat didn’t have the room for.

You tried to slacken your jaw, tried to relax your throat, it was obvious though that Alexia’s fingers were too long.

You are so desperate to please her, to prove that you are her good girl, that you will do anything that she wants or asks you to do, so you don’t end up with a fate similar to Ona’s, so even though you are gagging and struggling to breathe properly you push through, sucking on Alexia’s fingers just as she’d ordered.

Your own drool is dripping down your jaw, you’re certain of it, it’s something that you can’t afford to care or think about though, your focus is solely on Alexia’s fingers and mouth.

Just as you’ve begun to feel slightly lightheaded from the shallow bits of oxygen that you are managing to intake Alexia’s fingers are pulled from your mouth, and whilst you are occupied with gasping for air and Alexia’s fingers shoot right down to inbetween your legs.

Your body lurches at the sudden contact, hips chasing Alexia’s hand desperately.

Alexia allows the movement, her fingers trace the outside of your lips, never even coming close to touching you where you need her most.

“Look at Mapi, look at how desperate she is, using me for her own pleasure. All because of you bebita, all because of how worked up you got her earlier, she’s such a filthy whore for you, isn’t that right Maria?”

Mapi’s head rocks forward to look at you, a big smirk on her face, telling you that what Alexia is saying is true, that some part of whatever she’s experiencing is due to you.

“Are you going to make her come before you hand her off or are you going to make her wait.”

Mapi’s eyes stay locked to your own, even though it’s clear the question isn’t meant for you.

Alexia removes her mouth from your neck, just to stare at you in deliberation out of her peripherals.

“What do you think? Should we reward our good girl, or make her wait? You’d look so pretty coming all over my fingers bebita, but maybe I should make you wait for Lucia? Just so I can watch you get fucked out by her.”

You aren’t sure what you want, with Alexia putting both offers out on the table and making them both sound good, you’re too focused on Alexia’s hand dipping in and out of your pussy to truly comprehend what’s being said.

When Alexia’s fingertips finally make contact with your clit everything you’d begun to process is completely erased from your brain, every single one of your brain cells is completely captured by the sensation of Alexia’s slicked fingers finally touching you where you’ve been so desperately needing her.

“How does she feel bebita, she touching you where you need it?”

You nod your head at Mapi, more than happy to deal with a little bit of teasing if it means that you continue getting what you want.

When Alexia’s fingers migrate further down, her roughened palm moving down with her fingers to grind down against your clit as her fingers tease your hole you moan, louder than you think you ever have.

Alexia’s palm is wonderful, but her fingers slowly slipping into your hole, inch by inch similar to how they did your mouth, is indescribable.

You’re still tight and oversensitive from your previous orgasms, so every single move, every twitch of Alexia’s hand sends shocks through you.

Her pace is similar to the pace that Mapi has set on top of her, fast but thorough, Mapi’s hips gyrating against down against Alexia haphazardly, but with obvious amounts of detail, she’s searching for the friction against her clit, and she knows where she has to angle herself to find it.

Alexia pushes her palm down against your clit, forcing your legs as wide as she can from her spot beside you, her head cocked to the side so she has a good angle of both Mapi and you.

“Watch Oni bebita, that’ll be you soon enough, once she’s had the brat fucked out of her it’ll be your turn. That’s what happens to little sluts who think they know better, who think that they will get away with being disobedient. You’re a good girl though, and if you keep acting like one I’m sure Jenni and Lucia will be happy to reward you, in fact, if you keep being good for me I’m sure that we can sort out any kind of reward you’d like, how does that sound?”

Your eyes lift up to Ona, it’s a struggle to keep them open with Alexia’s constant pace in and out of you but for the sake of obeying Alexia, you do as she’s asked and watch Ona.

Jenni’s no longer balanced on top of her face, now she’s lying to the side of Ona, her hands pinching down on her nipples so hard that there are tears in Ona’s eyes over the torture she’s being subjected to.

Lucy and Caro are no longer pounding into Ona, instead they’ve both pulled out and Lucy’s strap has been thrown to the side, she’s currently being fucked by Caro, right in front of Ona’s eyes, just another form of teasing thrown her way you assume.

“Tell me what you want as a reward, bebita, anything you want you can have.”

It feels like Alexia is offering you the whole world, and yet you can’t even begin to formulate what it is that you want, because there are infinite possibilities and different scenarios that you want to try, but there is one thing that springs to the forefront of your mind, something that’s been buried deep in your mind ever since Keira’s lips had touched yours for the first time just a couple of hours ago.

“Wanna sit on Kei’s face.”

Alexia’s eyebrows raise in intrigue.

“Do you now? Well you prove to me that you can be good and I certainly think that can be arranged, now how about you focus a little bit harder on my fingers so I can focus a little bit more on Maria here, aprobado?”

You nod your head furiously, grinding your hips down onto Alexia’s fingers with motivation.

“No cumming without permission bebita, let me know when you’re close.”

You nod at Alexia, honestly too consumed with the feeling of Alexia’s finger tips repetitively hitting the walls of your insides. When she angles them just right, the pads of her two fingers brushing against your sweet spot, your spine shudders, all the wonderful sensations spreading out across your body.

Alexia’s fingers, whilst they may have struggled to fit in your mouth, they have absolutely zero problems fucking in and out of your pussy, your hole is practically sucking them in with every thrust, trying it’s very hardest to cling onto the feeling of Alexia.

With her palm pushing down against your clit, and your eyes on Keira, it doesn’t take you long to get close to the edge. Keira’s body is limp, her back pressed to Ingrid’s front whilst Ingrid fucks her brutally in reverse cowgirl.

When Keira screams, her own orgasm taking over, you are completely enthralled by the sight, everyone in the rooms seems to be. The noises leaving Keira’s mouth are so loud and so erotic, if you tried you could probably orgasm purely off of them.

Ingrid’s pace slows, but doesn’t come to a full stop, the Norwegian bouncing Keira up and down slowly, holding onto her hips and helping her to ride out her high.

Mapi apparently, isn’t far behind her, the Zaragozan’s moans suddenly becoming a lot quicker and louder, before you miss anything you pull your eyes from Keira, receiving immediate gratification in the form of Mapi, whose hips are stalled, her clit pressed down against Alexia’s as her body and coil in her stomach shatter.

It’s a rare moment where you see Alexia’s confident and composed facade fall. Alexia is beaming, pressing soft kisses to Mapi’s collar bone well before her orgasm hits, murmuring soft spanish words into her skin, very subtly thrusting her own hips up into Mapi, giving her a longer orgasm and something more to rut down against.

“Alexia-I’m close.”

With all the noises and people around you, it’s hard for you not to be on the edge. Alexia’s hand stops immediately, her palm lifting from your clit and fingers slowly withdrawing. It’s sad, being in a room full of people experiencing pleasure and having yours revoked, although you thank the lords that you aren’t Ona, that you aren’t being subjected to the pure pain and hell that she’s being put through.

You also suppose that if Ona wasn’t somewhat okay with it then it wouldn’t be happening, and if she was truly in pain she would safe word. That thought only seems to make you more aroused, the realisation that Ona, to some extent, is getting off on what she’s experiencing.

“Such a good job, bebita, letting me know when you're close. Once Keira has come down I’m sure she’ll have no problems fulfilling that little reward of yours.”

———————————————————————

lol i’m not one to normally leave things at a cliff hanger buttttttt yk gotta keep yall coming back somehow lol xoxo

900 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 10 months ago

Text

There’s a Heat Between Us, You Must Admit

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Plus size!rader

Characters: Plus size!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Mildred “Millie” Nightington (reader’s cousin), Bernard (the servant), Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton, Simon Bassett, Augie Bassett

Warnings: Anthony is an idiot, the bee scene (mainly from the book scene), drama, Daphne doesn’t want to see her friend end up alone, reader gives Anthony the biggest side eye ever, reader and Anthony are idiots, Millie is a sweetheart, reader and Anthony are competitive, the sideburns line was something I learned about, reader is stubborn, Anthony is oddly very emotional in this, reader knows a lot of things, reader doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions, pregnancy scare, the pregnancy scare reminds me of a sitcom

Word Count: 13,647

A/N: Reader’s last name is Starlington and also, super excited to have finally finished this one.

*1,700 follower celebration post*

Also, Happy Valentine’s day!!

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Sometimes you loved your dear friend Daphne and other times you didn't, right now for example, you don't.

Honestly you don’t know how this got brought up (again) but you’d wish she would stop; it’s not going to happen even if she wants you to officially join her family.

You knew her being the first to marry out of the two of you was going to lead to more of her shenanigans, but this was too much for you.

You sigh, setting your cup down to look her in the eyes, “I have no plans on being in this season.”

Her shoulder sagged, “I understand that but-”

“But, nothing. Daphne, I am more than content with my being staying very much untied to a man. If I happen to meet someone worth it, you’ll know.”

Anthony glances over in your direction and his mind goes elsewhere.

You’re his sister’s best friend who also became Benedict’s best friend soon after you met the rest of his family.

He isn’t particularly upset at the fact that you’ve managed to befriend his siblings (slightly better than he could) but, there’s something that keeps bringing a certain idea to the front of his mind.

“Are you going to take your turn or continue staring?” Benedict asks.

The eldest shrugs off his brother’s comment.

Anthony uses the dreaded “death mallet” and once again, manages to pass the others.

Daphne heads towards her siblings before they can scream and shout at her for sitting down instead of taking her turn.

You sigh, shoulders sagging because you know she means no harm; you know that but, you can’t force yourself to love and care for someone you don’t have feelings for.

You’d never admit it (out loud or to her) but there are nights where you do wonder how it would be if you did get married to someone you loved.

The concerning part is how her brother sneaks into your mind; not your closest friend, Benedict, or the third oldest, Colin, and of course not, Gregory.

No, Anthony is the one to invade your mind and corrupt your dreams with his charming smile and smooth movements.

And you would never dare tell Daphne or your cousin of your thoughts; no matter how hard she tries to convince you he feels something for you.

You take a deep breath, returning your focus onto the game only to meet a pair of oak brown eyes gazing upon you.

You tear your gaze away at the sounds of Violet walking down the stairs, carrying a smiling Augie in her arms earning a smile from you as you observe the happy baby.

You glance towards her and offer a polite smile, giving her a moment to settle down in the free chair before turning to focus on the young babe. “Hello, Augie,” you greet him with a baby tone and shake his chubby fingers.

“He’s always taken with you,” Violet comments.

“I am the one who always manages to search for his mother when he cries for her. Sometimes I believe myself to be a dog.”

She chuckles, “that’s not it.”

“Why else would he like me?”

“You have a natural instinct that he senses. Children know these things.”

“If that’s what you say.”

Daphne steps away from the others, wanting to see her child. “She is right, you know.”

“Not you too,” you groan.

“You will make a fantastic mother.”

“Someday.”

“It could happen sooner than one would think.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

Anthony stares back at you once more, observing the way you interact with his dear nephew. As he searches for someone to call wife, his most secretive thoughts keep coming to mind. The more he searches and the longer you stay, the more he finds himself wondering.

His mother continues to help him in his search for a wife albeit reluctantly since she finds herself so fond of you. She’d never explicitly tell him to pursue you but, she could always kindly ease him into the right direction, which is when his disbelief comes to the surface, truly believing you to feel nothing for him.

He knows if he tried to pursue you and it fell through, he will have ruined a lifelong friendship for his family- as he watches Daphne hold her purple mallet for you to take- he realizes he can’t pursue you.

Not that he’d ever given it any real thought, but he’d never be able to forgive himself if he was the reason, you stopped coming by.

You shake your head.

She puts it in your hand, persuading you into taking her place so she can attend to Augie.

You step down from the seating area with little energy.

His sister offers encouraging nods.

“I see you finally came to join us,” comments Anthony.

You avoid his gaze- you can barely stand beside him. “Not like I wanted to,” you reply.

“You’re scared to lose?”

You scoff, turning to look up at him, “that is not what I said.”

He smirks, leaning closer to you, “you didn’t have to.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “we’ll see who’s laughing when I win.” You walk away, taking your turn. You’re satisfied until you sense him behind you.

He follows you, “for someone who didn’t want to play earlier, you’ve certainly found your spirit.”

“Or was it a trick?” You smirk, glancing at him when the ball rolls through the metal hoop with ease. “You look nice,” you comment, turning around to walk away.

Anthony’s brows furrow together, his body takes over as he steps closer to you, standing beside you. “What do you mean?”

You turn, struggling to find the right words without sending the wrong message. “I only meant you look nice. You know, people- people can actually see your face now.”

He continues to stare at you.

“Your sideburns were nice but it- they- people may have assumed you grew them to hide what lies in your heart.”

“And what do you think lies there?” The words escape him before he could process his thoughts.

“I believe the love for your family and future wife is there, along with the care and compassion you hold for them. I do have to admit, I am a bit glad you shaved.”

He tilts his head, “and why is that?”

“I was afraid you would have continued growing them and at some point, they would connect,” you use both hands the gesture from your sideburns to your upper lip, “and you would look as though you were wearing a mask of sorts,” you say with one hundred percent seriousness until you think about it and snicker, covering your face with your hand.

Anthony is also unable to keep himself collected and joins in. He straightens his posture, “what of you?”

You take a deep breath, fanning yourself. "What of me, for what?”

“What do you think lies in your heart?”

“The same as you, I suppose. Love and compassion for my family and the few friends I have.”

“What about me?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“What?” You don’t know what to think.

“I-” He walks past you, placing his mallet back into place before exiting, wandering to the garden. He needs to get as far away from you as he can in order to clear his mind.

You don’t understand what’s happened and place your mallet beside his before chasing after him.

He stares at you, half listening to you and his attention moves elsewhere.

“Are you even listening to me?” You stare at him, wanting to understand him. You’re too into your thoughts to hear the faint buzz.

The noise sends a shiver down his spine, he knows the noise too well; his nightmares (if he can remember any) always start with the faint buzz.

He doesn’t move as he searches for it. Sadly, for the eldest child, he doesn’t have to search for long as the small, striped animal floats around you. He prays to whoever is listening to hear his silent prayers for it doesn’t sting you; he can’t lose someone else to the blasted creature.

“Anthony?” You ask, glancing down when you feel something land on you. You realize why he can’t look away. “Hey, it’s alright.”

He can’t focus on your words, his mind rattled with the memory of his late father. “Don��t move,” his voice is low and shaky.

“I know, it’s a bee but, it won’t hurt me as long as I-” you close your eyes due to the discomfort you get from the sting, and it sends him into a whirlwind. “I’ll be alright,” you say, still trying to reassure him. You open your eyes to see how pale he’s gotten.

He invades your personal space, grasping onto your arms. “Are- are you-” He glances back and forth between your face and your wound. His voice is low, far too low for you to understand what it is he is trying to say but you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of, “don’t move'' repeatedly.

You know you must calm him down before he can do anything. You reach for him, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Breathe, Anthony. I need you to breathe.”

He can’t say anything, almost as if he’s choking on air. Images of his father invade his mind, filling him with worry and dread.

You can see he is close to tears. Your voice draws him out of his thoughts. “I promise you. I hope you know I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m fine but I will still have a doctor come and look at it so that it may heal properly. I’m right here. I’m here with you.”

Anthony’s hands grip your biceps, he notices how swollen the sting site has become.

“It stung me, but I am not hurting. This has happened before. I will be fine.”

None of your reassurances are having any effect on him.

The image of his father taking his last breath in his mother’s arm is enough to make lean in to suck the venom out.

“Anthony?! What are you-” You cut yourself off at the feeling of his shaky hands trying to remove the stinger. “Anthony, you must stop.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to stay focused on keeping you healthy (and alive) while fighting to keep his father’s death out of his mind.

You take deep breaths, you try to push him away, but he is insistent and stronger than you. “I am fine, I just need to see a doctor and I-”

“Would you be quiet,” he finally lifts his head to look up at you.

You gulp, “I know- I know what tragedy has happened in your family but, today will not be the same for me.”

He doesn’t listen and continues to squeeze the area.

You gasp, eyes widening at the feeling of his hands being so close to your breast. This has gone too far; you must stop this before someone sees. “Anthony,” you place your hands on his chest to push him away once more.

“Stop it,” he shoves your arms off him. “Let me get rid of the venom.”

“There is a doctor who can do this and-”

“The doctor is not here. I am.” He stops squeezing when some liquid begins to spill out of the wound.

You look down, finding the trail of liquid, “see, you did it. Now, I am going inside to-”

Anthony pulls out a handkerchief, wiping away the trail. “It’s not all of it.”

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from patting you dry. “You must stop this, Anthony. If anything were to have happened, it would have happened already.”

“There is still more,” he mutters, staring at the irritated area.

“You need to stop.”

“I haven’t gotten all of it,” he turns, staring at you.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing. Don’t.”

“I have to get the venom out before it kills you.”

“It won’t kill me-” you gasp, seeing the determination in him as he leans forward. You place your hand on his shoulder, keeping his head away but fail to remove his hand.

The click clack of women’s shoes against the rock pathway alerts you, but you feel as though you can’t move.

A gasp makes you turn to find his mother alongside your cousin, Mildred (Millie for short), staring at the two of you with shocked expressions.

Your heart rate increases and gain enough strength to fully shove him away from you, knowing how this looks.

He glances up at you with a confused expression.

“Anthony?” Violet calls out.

His brows furrow further, he looks over your shoulder, “mother?”

“What is going here?”

“She was stung by a- a bee.”

“A bee?”

“Yes, a bee. I’d told him repeatedly I was fine. I’ve dealt with being stung before,” you say, struggling to keep yourself together.

“You were stung by a bee and the boy found himself attached to you?” Mildred raises a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that, Millie.”

“I’m not, I’m wondering how you think this can be kept quiet.”

“Kept quiet?” You repeat quietly to yourself.

“Neither of us would repeat a word of what occurred today,” he argues.

“That doesn’t mean anything for a woman’s reputation,” Mildred says with an attitude.

“You do realize anyone could walk out here and spot the two of you, don’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t you?”

He grits his teeth, “I do.”

“You should consider yourself lucky that it was us who found you and no one else, rake.”

“That’s enough now, Mildred,” Violet intervenes. “Let’s,” she takes a deep breath, “let’s go inside and talk about this further. Lady Starlington needs to be seen by a doctor.”

You can’t stand to be there any longer and turn away from him, walking past the two ladies and Anthony; your pace speeds up before you know it, you’re sprinting back to Audrey Hall.

Mildred sighs, “now what are we to do?”

“We will all walk back and discuss this,” Violet says.

“Of course, we are but, what am I to tell my parents? They’ll be curious to know why their niece’s name is in a Lady Whistledown column.”

Anthony grunts, taking a step towards the two. He passes by them and quickly announces, “we will marry before the end of the season.”

“Did he say what I think he did?” asks Mildred, watching his figure walk away with wide eyes.

Violet sighs, shaking her head, “I believe he did.”

“Did I do the right thing?”

The mother of the family stops, turning to face your cousin, “what do you mean?”

“I- I basically pushed themselves together into this potentially unhappy marriage. I know I sometimes I can’t keep my comments to myself but, I swear I had good intentions. It's just- when we came around the corner to see that I- I worry about her. I fear I may have ruined my relationship with the two.”

“I can’t give you an exact answer but, I can say that as long as you have your cousin’s interest and happiness in mind, the most you can do is hope for the best. They are both emotionally driven people, even if neither wishes to admit it. This will be hard for them, and it may be a test.”

“A test?”

“To see if they will make good of their marriage. You and I, as well as my other children, have come to realize how they connect with one another. They can’t see it for themselves but there is something there and now is the time for them to see it.”

“I suppose so. What if they can’t make it work?”

“Then I fear they will be in a miserable marriage.”

No one else disturbed you after the doctor left.

You sit at the edge of the bed, your vision blurs; you cover your mouth with shaky hands. You don’t want others to hear if they happen to be walking by. You cry, struggling to catch your breath.

Everything you’ve been feeling with the last few days is slowly escaping you. Your mother is requesting to visit and marriage situation with Anthony; it’s too much.

You take deep breaths, aiming to calm yourself down.

Maybe it would be better if you left and went home or maybe somewhere far from here.

A knock disturbs you from your thoughts.

You wipe your cheeks, hoping whoever it is will go away but fail as another knock comes through. You take a deep breath and open the door, “Viscount Bridgerton?”

He lifts his gaze off the floor, “what happened to Anthony?”

Any curiosity falls from your expression, “your making light of the situation?”

He shakes his head, “I would never.”

“I think you’ve done enough today. It’s almost time for bed.”

He takes a step closer to the door, his hand inches away from being crushed, “I,” he sighs, taking a step back, removing his hand from the door. “I have come to ask if you would have dinner with me.”

“With you?”

“I think it would be wise if we talked before anything becomes… official.”

“Now?”

“Are you going to use full sentences any time soon?”

“Why should I? Is it bothering you?”

“Nevermind that. Are you going to join me or not?”

“Will there be someone else there?”

He gives you a reluctant nod, “yes, your dearest cousin, Mildred.”

“I’ll be down in a moment. I will meet you there.”

“I’ll wait here.”

“Do you have to?”

“No but, I think it might be good practice for us.”

“Practice,” you mumble and shut the door. You walk over to the vanity, staring at yourself, wondering how you got into this situation. You snatch the extra handkerchief and pat your face, removing any evidence of your despair.

You take careful steps toward the door and exit, Anthony leaning against the wall across from your room. He holds his arm out for you to hold.

You shake your head.

“Don’t you think you’ve touched her enough today?”

He sighs, “Mildred.”

“Who else would it be?” She interlocks your arms together, pulling you ahead of the eldest Bridgerton. “Come on.”

“Do either of you know how to use it?” Anthony asks, staring at the stove.

Mildred shakes her head, “the maids are always around to do it.”

“Both of you sit down,” you say.

“Do you know how to work this?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“I do. It’s too late for us to have a full meal, instead we can have a glass of warm milk.”

They sit at the table in the corner of the room.

Anthony watches as you move gracefully around the kitchen.

“If you keep staring, she’ll catch you.”

He turns to her, “what?”

“You’re staring.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he denies.

“You can lie all you want but I know you care for her. Perhaps, you always have and never wanted to admit it before and the whole bee situation was a ruse so that you could stop being a ninny and marry her instead.”

His jaw drops, he doesn’t know how to respond. “I did not-”

She waves him off, “do not lie Anthony, I know you love her and have for some time now, only you must realize it now than later in your marriage. I do not want her… or you to be unhappy. Oddly enough, I seem to care for you but, obviously not the same way she does you.”

He scoffs through his nose, muttering to himself, “obviously.”

You place the glass of milk in front of the two, interrupting their conversation. “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to marry my cousin instead.”

Anthony nearly chokes on the liquid, setting the glass down and snatches the handkerchief you hold out for him.

He wipes his chin, “what makes you think I would want to marry, Mildred.”

She scoffs, “you’d be lucky to have me, Bridgerton.”

He narrows his eyes to her.

“I’ll be just outside this door, leaving the two of you talk and nothing else.”

You furrow your brows, “wait. Mil-”

She waves to you.

You take a deep breath, not wanting to face him.

It was different when he wasn't paying attention to you and rather his own life, but now... you hope he doesn't want to talk.

"We should- we should talk."

Everything in your screams to not run away and hide, even though it sounds like it would be the better option right now.

"How are you?"

"I would be happier if I was marrying for love and not because of your concern over my virtue," you mumble.

He overhears and sighs. “Don’t-”

“No, I understand. Truly I do, just- I need- it’s late. Apologies for keeping you up.” You grab the skirts of your dress and walk out.

Mildred watches as you run away. She spins around and stands in the doorway. “What did you do?”

“Me- I-”

She sighs. “Just shut up.”

He sighs and slumps in the chair. Mildred storms into the room after you.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” You take a deep breath, hunched over your vanity.

“You know, you two act as a married couple who have known each other for too long and no longer know how to act lovingly around one another.”

“You are wrong, cousin. He is- he is the scum- the scum that rests at the bottom of my shoe. Why would I ever marry someone like that? Much less that Bridgerton, I mean, Colin would be a better option and I don’t like him as much as I do Benedict.” You keep your head down, “people marry for less.”

“I wish to marry for love, if it ever decides to come my way but until then I will deal with him marrying the only person, I care about that is close to my age.”

“So, you care enough about me to marry me off?”

“Don’t phrase it in such a way that makes me the bad guy,” she throws herself onto your bed.

“Go to bed. I will be fine, Millie.”

She props herself up on her elbows. “Are you sure?”

“I am. Please,” you look up and turn around, putting on a brave face. “I promise you. I will be fine.”

“If you’re sure-”

“Which I am. Goodnight, Millie.”

She sighs and steps outside of the room, “night.”

“Good morning.”

You don’t respond to Mildred.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“I am simply showing you the way my soon-to-be husband will treat me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has already begun. I awoke early and decided I wanted to speak to him after thinking about it all. I say hi but he does not.” You shrug, "it doesn't matter now."

"It does though. Let me," she sighs. "Let me speak with him. I can- I can fix this."

"No," you say. “I don’t want you to be in the middle any more than you have.”

“Alright... now onto more pressing matters.”

“Such as?”

“Your plans for the wedding?”

“Oh, right.” You continue to stare out the window.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“I just-”

Anthony stops himself from knocking on the door and decides to listen.

“I thought when I was to marry, I would marry for love not because I need my virtue protected or saved."

"If he didn't agree to this-"

"I would be a spinster."

"That is how I will live my life," Mildred grabs your hand and gains your attention.

Anthony takes his leave, unable to stay there any longer.

“That is not how I want you to live your life. I want you to be the one to have another you can call upon if there is something the matter because I won’t always be there and I need to know that you are protected before I leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

She sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out but yes. A week after you’ve been married, I plan on traveling the world.”

“Your childhood dream.”

“Precisely.”

"I- what if I'm not good enough to," you wave your hand around. "This."

"This what? I'm not sure I understand."

"What if- what if I am not fit to be a wife. I mean," you push yourself out of the chair and pace around the room. "I don't want him to be disappointed in the person he is to call wife. I don't want to be in a marriage of..."

"Regret?"

"Precisely."

She stops you by placing a hand on your wrists, “now is the time for us to plan your wedding. Violet and Anthony have been sitting in the tearoom since I came in here.”

“She’s- they’re- why didn’t you tell me?” You rush out the door.

You clean yourself up outside the door and nod to your servant, Bernard, to open the doors. You nervously smile at both.

Violet pops up from the chair closest to the window. “How are you?”

“Oh- uh- I’m,” you glance to the side and stare at her eldest, who locks eyes with you.

“I mean from the- well, you know,” she struggles to say.

You let out a breath of relief, “ah, yes. I do. I am- I am fine. I’m just happy that everyone else is fine.”

She smiles, “that is kind of you to say, but unnecessary.”

“I hear you came to talk about our upcoming… event.”

“Is that what Mildred told you?”

You furrow your brows, “is that not what you’re here to discuss?”

Anthony pushes himself off the couch. “Not yet. Mother, if you’d excuse us.”

“Anthony, I don’t-”

He gives her a look.

"We will be right outside this door."

"What did you want to discuss?"

"If we are to marry, we should have stipulations."

"You think I'll be so horrible that we need rules?"

"Not you. I believe if we have these, we'll have a better understanding of what should come from this marriage."

"Why don't I just stay by your side and show my face when you need me to so you can look like the perfect husband? Would that make things easier?"

He sighs. "That is one of the things we need to discuss, which events you'd prefer to come to."

"Oh, I get to choose those?"

"Please stop. I am trying to make this as easy as I can."

You clench your fists. "How am I supposed to be okay with this?"

“It’s my fault and I am trying to make up for that.”

You pause, “your fault?”

He nods, “yes, it was- it was me who... couldn’t.”

You step forward and place your hand on his, drawing his attention onto you. “It is not your fault when something so devastating comes to mind and you do all you can to prevent another. I do not blame you, but you must understand that I do not want to be one of those ladies.”

“Who?” The only word he can get out as he studies you.

Your compassion shifts into something of annoyance, one he knows too well. “You know who, someone who wants to be like Penelope’s mother or maybe even... all of the other ladies,” you chuckle, proud of the joke you made.

"I'm glad you can make jokes at a time like this."

You roll your eyes, "oh hush, I am still upset about pretending to be a perfect housewife for the one man every woman dreams of being with."

"Are you included?"

Your mouth agape as you stare at him.

"You two haven't maimed each other, perfect."

"Millie," you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Oh, don't act so coy now."

You roll your eyes and sit down, waiting to hear what Anthony and his mother have to say. You pace along the floor, finding it to be quieter here than in the tearoom with the others, even if they weren’t talking it was still too loud. You know there’s no alternative for what’s transpired between you and your soon to be husband, but it still hurts knowing he will never love you the way-

“Are you alright?” Daphne’s voice draws you out of your thoughts.

You give her a small smile and hope she doesn’t poke further.

“I know this isn’t how it was supposed to happen but there is one good thing about your marriage.”

You scoff, “and what, pray tell, is that?”

“I finally can call you sister.”

You try not to show how happy that makes you, not wanting her to know she was right. “Thank you.”

She drags you over to the piano.

“I still don’t understand why you have many so pianos.”

She shrugs, “for moments like this, maybe?”

“Are you waiting for me to play?”

She nods, “of course, I am. You were always much better than I was.”

“I was not.”

“Show me then. Show me how awful you play, and I will not ask you again.”

You don’t know how long you had been playing for, but it was something you missed- not having a piano in your own home, you didn’t realize how long it had been.

You usually prefer to play when no one is watching but having Daphne by your side was nice, she always knew how to help calm you before things could get worse; everyone knew of your father’s temper, and no one wants to face that through his only daughter.

Anthony raises his hand to knock on the door but pauses as he listens, he doesn’t realize Daphne had learned a new piece. He slowly opens the door and finds you playing instead.

‘When did you learn how to play?’ He wonders.

Or maybe it was, you had always known, and he was too into his fantasies that he forgot to pay attention to the true version of you.

Just when he was hoping to learn something horrible about you; you’re becoming more and more like his...

“I didn’t know you played.”

You open your eyes and glance up at him, standing up as quickly as you can. “I don’t.”

He furrows his brows, “that’s not what I heard.”

“That- that was nothing.”

“Why are you lying?”

“I prefer to keep this information to myself so if you could kindly pretend you didn’t hear anything, that’d be best.” You exit the room, knowing you’ve left

Anthony in a wave of confusion. “What was that about?”

“She doesn’t like others to know of her talents because she knows they’ll ask her to perform one of them.”

“Her mother.” He finally understands.

“And her aunt.”

Now he truly gets it. "Is this what you two would do while I was out with mother?"

She shrugs and pushes the seat back. "Perhaps, or maybe you were never around long enough to learn about her even though you're entranced by her."

He stutters, unsure of where she could have gotten that idea. "What?"

She quickly hides her amusement before he can see. "Nothing. Goodnight Anthony."

He tries to stop her, but she ignores him, offering an excuse for needing to put Augie to bed. He wonders what else he doesn’t know.

You pace back and forth in front of his office door; this isn’t something you can do in person, is it? You sigh and wonder if it’s a wise choice to be doing this at all.

You slip the letter under his door and take a step back. “That wasn’t so hard.” You turn around and briskly walk down the hallway, hoping he doesn’t see that it was you who was there.

Something moving in the corner of his eye piqued his interest and moved closer to figure out what it was. He picks up the letter and opens the door, seeing someone’s figure turning the corner before losing sight of them.

He closes the door and opens the letter, wondering what you could have said when you’ve already said plenty.

Dear Bridgerton,

I I want to start off by apologizing for my outbursts, you don’t deserve them, and they are not aimed at you, but you happen to be the person I am talking to and... This is not how I expected the season to begin or end and I’m sure you didn’t either but if there is someone I were to marry, I’m happy it’d be you... because I trust you. I will do all that I can to be the perfect wife for you and if not, I apologize in advance.

Sincerely, Your annoying soon to be wife

The next day came, and you didn't know how to act.

You sit between Daphne and Mildred when he enters.

He sits in front of you and nods, acknowledging you, which you return.

The girls beside you don't know how to react, each staring at the other with a raised brow.

You two talked with his mother about the decisions for your wedding.

"Have you two discussed what you want?"

Anthony opens his mouth to answer but finds himself without an answer.

"Everyone will talk, and it will no doubt be in Lady Whistledown's column, but it would be preferred if we had a small ceremony, family only."

You don’t look up from your plate. Violet nods, listening intently. "I will use the dress my mother made when I was born, it'll save us time on getting a dress. The flowers can be your choice."

"And after?"

You turn to her, "it'd be smart to hold a small reception after all though it will increase because everyone will want to see who married the handsome and fortunate viscount."

You push yourself out of the chair. "I apologize but I realized I promised to spend time with the girls before we go out for our shopping trip."

"What just happened?"

"Have you two talked about anything regarding your wedding?" Violet asks her son.

"Every time we discuss something-"

"No, have you sat down and discussed what you two are to do? Who will be there? Anything that a soon to be husband and wife should discuss?"

His shoulders sag. "No."

"I want you to go in my place."

"What? Why?"

"It will give you two a moment to talk and prepare for the future hardships you two will face as a couple. Raise her spirits. She got a letter from her mother, saying she will not be able to attend. Perhaps that is why she is so uninterested today."

"She- how do you know?"

"I'm your mother, I know more than you would think."

Anthony waiting by the door frightened you. “Are you joining us?”

“I’m here in place of my mother.”

It takes you a few seconds to process what he said. “You are?”

He nods. “Shall we?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

The failed whispering voices of the women around you, annoys you to the point where Anthony feels that he needs to do something. “Is there anything that has caught your interest?”

You shake your head.

“Let’s go. I know somewhere we can have a better time, away from the whispers of these women.” He leans in, whispering into your ear, “they’re jealous of you.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement, not wanting him to know he’s helping lift your spirits. You two exit the shop and return to the Bridgerton home. “Why are we back here?”

“We are going to have a drink.”

“With your family? Couldn’t we do that any day we wanted to?”

He holds his hand out for you to take, which you do. “Although that may be true, that’s not what I had in mind.” He places his arms behind his back, clenching his fist not wanting you to see the control you have over him. “We’re going to spend time in my office.”

“Oh? I’m invited in, I feel so special.”

“You should, very few are allowed in here, especially when I’m working.”

“Of course. The head of the house needs quiet or else.”

“I see going out has helped you.”

You watch as he fills the glass for you before grabbing it and swallowing it in one gulp. “You could say that.” You scrunch your nose at the sensation, maybe doing that was a bad idea.

He takes a seat in his chair.

“Could I ask you something?”

He nods, staring at you over the glass as he takes a sip.

“Did your mother inform of the one guest we won’t be seeing at our wedding?”

He slowly sets the glass down before returning his gaze to you. “She may have mentioned it.”

“Is that why you came with me today because she told you to and not because you wanted to?”

“She may have said she thought it was best if I take her place, but it was initially my choice to go.”

“You’re not lying?”

“What would I gain from lying to you?”

You sit up and reach for the bottle, filling your glass. “A relationship built on a lie.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you trying to make this harder than it needs to be?”

“I can’t just- you can’t honestly expect me to ignore that we are marrying one another when you never wanted to marry and I hoped that when it happened, it’d be with someone who loved me.”

He’s out of his chair before you realize he’s now sitting in the chair beside you. “What will it take for you to stop saying that?”

“What?”

He leans in closer. “Why do you think I could never love you?”

“I-” You gulp. “You have spoken before that you never want to marry, what else am I to think?”

“How do you know I couldn’t change? What if something comes of this relationship?”

Your breath hitches and you continue staring him in his eyes. “I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge if we get to it.” You set the glass down and rush for the door, “I’ll take my leave now. I’m feeling quite tired after our outing.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you back in before you could open the door. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you into answering my questions.”

“What if I enjoyed them?”

You turn to face him with a small smile. “Then I am concerned for your being.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Be honest, did you mother tell you about my mother is not coming?”

“No,” he shakes his head, but you know the truth.

“You don’t need to lie on order to preserve myself, it’s okay.” You sigh, “is it sad that a small part of me wishes for her to be there?”

“Not in the least. It’s natural for you to want your mother there-”

“It’s not because she’s my family, I just- I need her to stop pushing marriage onto me.” You pace back and forth, “this is my way to prove her wrong but that makes me feel worse because it makes me seem as though I’m being a bad daughter.”

“You’re not,” he disagrees with you. “That is anything but you being a bad daughter. If anything, she’s- she’s scared to lose her daughter to a new family because they know you will be starting a new life, away from her and that’s why she doesn’t want you to help.”

“But what if-”

His hand slides down your arm as if his hand lingering wasn’t enough to drive you mad, he tightens his grip on your hand.

You force yourself to focus on his words and not the warmth emanating from him.

“Stop. All the negative thoughts you have are not going to help you. But listen to this, you are a good daughter, and she should be happy to know her daughter will be taken care of. As long as you are a part of this family you will be taken care of and not have to worry about expectations.”

“I won’t,” you whisper, not meaning to. He shakes his head and gives a small smile. “I promise.”

He realizes he’s been holding onto you this whole time and his arm falls. “Can I walk you back to your room?”

You nod, ignoring the warmth flooding your cheeks. “I would like that.”

“Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?”

“You will, and if I ask you the same question?”

He smiles, “I will be there.”

“Good, I think this is a good start to our future marriage.” You step inside the room.

“I am sorry.”

“What?”

“The marriage… and the reason we are to wed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost myself and-”

You shake your head, placing a hand on his chest over his heart. “I do not blame you for something as traumatizing as your father’s death. Please know that.”

“But-”

“Anthony Bridgerton,” you tell him using a stern tone. “Stop it. It may not have happened under the best of circumstances, but I am happy that I will be wed to you than some other man. I can at least trust you.” You step back into the doorway, slowly closing the door as you bid him goodnight.

He stands there, touching the spot where your hand was until he drops it, straining his hand as he fights to clench it.

Benedict and Colin happen to be there when he turns the corner.

“Quite a show you put on there,” the second eldest says.

“Yes, you’re whole “I’ll be the perfect husband” speech was wonderful,” the third eldest chimes in.

Anthony scoffs, “would you two quiet down?” He grabs them by their collars, dragging them into one of their miscellaneous rooms. “Why aren’t you two out?”

“How could we be out when you’re here?” Colin asks.

“Trying to woo the love of your life,” Benedict adds on.

“I’m not- you two are acting like children.”

“Us? Acting like children?” Colin starts, glancing at his brother.

“No,” the artist shakes his head, “I don’t think so.”

The soon to be married man glares at his brothers, unsure if he wants to listen further or not but if he doesn’t let them continue it’ll be worse in the morning. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I let you two continue, will you keep quiet in the morning?”

“Morning?” Colin turns to partner in crime. “What’s happening in the morning?”

The artist glances over his older brother and grins, “is the soon to be wed joining his family and future wife for breakfast?”

“With him being silent, I’m going to say yes.”

“Finally, you agree with me.”

“I agree with you,” the third eldest argues.

“I don’t recall.”

“Okay, now that you two are done, I’m going to bed.”

“To dream of your wife.”

“She looked quite nice today, wouldn’t you say brother?” Benedict asks.

“I dare say, she looks even more radiant since her recent engagement.”

“You two are done,” Anthony shoves them out of the room. “You two will not speak of her like that again. She is your friend,” he jabs Benedict’s chest. “And your future sister-in-law,” and does the same to Colin. “You will respect her and not talk like this again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The next morning as soon as you step out of the door, your future husband paces. “You’re awake.”

“I am, it’s time for breakfast.” You close the door behind you. “Shall we go downstairs and join the others?”

“We’ll be the first ones down there.”

“Either way, I’m going down.”

He holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “After breakfast, what are your plans?”

“I have a few things I need to look over but after that I’m free. What did you have in mind?”

“I planned on going for a walk along the back of your family’s estate and perhaps we could talk about things.”

“Just the two of us.”

“Mildred could join us?”

“I’d rather she not.”

“I don’t blame you; she’s been on a rampage since earlier this week.”

The doors open and his brothers, Daphne and Mildred, are already sitting at the table.

“Of course,” he mumbles.

“Did you say something?” You ask him.

He turns his head towards you, offering a small smile. “No, it’s nothing.”

The glances between him and his brothers were interesting, intriguing to you and the girls, who also had no clue what was going on.

He stands behind your chair, hand resting on your shoulder. “I shall find you after I am done.”

You nod and watch him go.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Daphne shushes your cousin.

You lay across the couch, reading another book and were so into it, not even realizing that he had entered the room.

He smiles as he steps closer, wondering what’s going on inside your head, finding you to be more interesting as he observes you reading, compared to his sister. He leans against the back of the couch, bending down to catch your attention.

A shadow moving catches your eye and you turn, screaming soon after.

You place your hand over your heart, taking deep breaths. “For heaven’s sake! What was that for?”

“What do you mean?” He smirks, arms on around the sides of your body as he stays behind the couch. “What are you reading?”

You turn around and cross your arms, “why does that concern you?”

“Can’t a future husband be curious as to what his future wife is into?”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Is that all?”

“It is. But that’s not why I’m here.” He doesn’t say anything else.

You get impatient and wave your arms around. “Spit it out. Come on.”

“We are to marry by the end of the week.”

Your brows raise is surprise, “oh.”

“Is that alright?”

You take a deep breath, “I just- I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon but that’s- okay.” You place the book beside you and stand up, brushing the wrinkles out of the skirts of your dress. “I need to go over some things with your mother.”

The humor falls from his face. “Wait- where are you going?”

"I just told you."

He follows after you, "I heard you but-" He reaches for you, pulling you back. "Can we talk?"

You take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. Why is this happening now? You thought you were over this. Your lips part as you stare at his hand. You shake your head, staring up at him. "I- what do we need to talk about?"

"Lady... things." He’s quiet for a moment. "I won't push you but know I'm here to talk if you need someone."

"Thank you." You take off, not noticing the way his hand slowly falls or the way he clenches his hand.

It's been a long time since he's felt the skin of a woman he was enchanted by, especially one he's to call wife.

"Did we catch a moment between you and your beloved?"

Anthony sighs, "don't you have charcoal to break for your fruit drawings?"

His younger brother puts a hand to his chest, offended by his brother's comment. "I'm hurt, Anthony. Truly, I am but it's not why I'm here."

He turns to face the artistic Bridgerton, taking notice of the serious look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Sister."

"Which one?"

"Not one of ours."

He furrows his brows, mouth agape to ask why but realizes who his brother is referring to. "I thought we had taken care of this situation?"

"We did but then she decided to cut their trip short and has been calling on you since she arrived today."

"I need you to take care of her. I cannot allow her to ruin my marriage."

Benedict nods, "you finally figured out you truly care for her, didn't you?"

Anthony chuckles, "I'm not discussing this with you. Call Colin if you need help."

"We got it. Go take care of my future sister."

He nods for the doors to be opened. "Good morning, ladies."

Your cousin shakes her head, your mother fawns over him while Violet takes a sip of her tea.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him.

He places a hand on the back of your chair. "I expect you all enjoyed your breakfast before discussing more of the wedding."

"Oh, certainly. Your family has been nothing but kind to us, Viscount."

You adjust the napkin on your lap to keep you from rolling your eyes at your mother's fake enthusiast tone.

Mildred pats your arm, knowing the strained relationship between you and your mother.

He notices the tension in your shoulders and wishes he could pull you away from all this madness. "Anything I can help with?"

"Oh, heavens no. You have other more important things to take care of. Leave this to us ladies, isn't that, right?"

You purse your lips and let out a quiet, "mmhmm."

Maybe it was better when she said she couldn’t come to the wedding. Yes, you were sad, but it was better than the real thing.

Violet glances between you and your mother. "Why don't we let the girls go on a walk with Anthony watching over them?"

"But-"

"I think this will be good for them. It will give them more time to talk."

The woman hesitates to say yes, debating if this is truly a wise decision before making a decision.

You didn't realize how tight you were squeezing Mildred's arm until she let out a whine.

Your eyes widen, "oh, Millie. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I should have known better. I know how crazy she makes you." "This always happens?" You don't look in his direction. Your cousin nods her head, "unfortunately."

"Why has she made this unexpected visit?"

"She," Mildred pauses, giving herself time to think of a better answer than truth.

"She wants to know if I am with child and if the reason, you're marrying me is to save my family's name."

Anthony nods, he understands why you preferred planning this with his mother and your cousin. "Should we?"

You two glance over in his direction. "What are you implying?"

He shrugs, "I merely suggest we pretend as if there is something going on, give your mother something to worry about."

"You want her to pretend as if she is with child?"

He nods, confirming Mildred's nightmare.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of going through with this. It’s absurd and- oh, no. Now I like it."

You glance between the two. "Is this something you two finally agree on?"

They stumble for a minute, waiting for the other to argue and tell you no but come to realize you are, in fact, correct.

Daphne stumbles upon the three of you and smiles, neither Mildred nor her brother are arguing, and you don't look uncomfortable.

"Daphne!" Your cousin waves. "Come, come. We need your knowledge on a subject."

She nods, smiling. "May I ask what you need my help with exactly?"

"How does one pretend to be with child?"

She owlishly blinks, tilting her head staring at the woman as if she's lost her mind. "I'm sorry?"

"We are feeding into my aunt's absurd idea of her precious daughter being with child."

Anthony purses his lips, finding himself to be offended more than he had been by Mildred's comments. "I'm not the worst option for a father."

"Moving on," she waves him off before returning her attention to his sister. "We need information."

"And you want to do this?" She turns to face you.

Your eyes widen slightly, not realizing she was going to ask. "I think it would be... nice to show mother how well her child is without her watchful eye."

"And you're sure this is the way to do it?"

You shrug, "it's not so much if I think this is okay, it's more like she needs to realize I am my own person and can live a life without her dictating everything for me."

Daphen nods, "okay. I will help."

Mildred smiles and interlocks her arm with the Bridgerton girl's. "Come, we have much to discuss."

You turn to your future husband and raise a brow.

He stares at the two, wondering what advice his sister could have to offer before holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you all return to the hall for dinner.

"Are you sure about this?"

You hum, not having listened to a word he said.

"I asked if you're sure about this. Mildred and I were joking, we don't expect you to play along with this idea."

"Your kind, but this is something I need to do. She won't listen to reason if I tell her I don't need her help, she'll involve herself, no matter what."

"And this is how you'll get her to stop?"

You sigh, "we'll see."

The dinner was entertaining for most, you felt bad for embarrassing Violet and the Bridgerton name all to get your mother off your back, but you felt there was no other way to stop her from inserting her wants and needs before yours.

That was the first night you had a stern talking to from your future mother-in-law and- even though you could have thought of a better way to handle the situation, it felt nice to be taken care of the way a child should, compared to the way your mother raised you.

You didn’t talk to your cousin or future husband after and went to bed with too much on your mind.

Then came the wedding, it was as lovely as could be even if it was short notice and only family was invited.

It came as a surprise to everyone, mainly yourself, when your mother decided it was time to stop and act like a caring parent.

She smiled and fixed a piece of hair that was out of place. “I know this isn’t the wedding you dreamed about-”

“I didn’t dream of a wedding often.”

She sighs, realizing she’s been putting words in your mouth rather than stopping to listen to you. “I never dreamed of marrying someone I didn’t love. If I were to ever get married, I’d rather it be with someone I could have a future with than someone who would rather be with another.”

"I know."

"And you know what else- you know?"

She nods, "I've been trying to relive my life through you, and it isn't fair. I'm here to watch you marry the man who will provide, take care of you," she cups your cheeks. "And love you the way you deserve."

You shake your head, fighting to keep your composure, not wanting anyone to know of your breakdown. "He doesn't love me."

She nods, "he does, you just can't see it."

"How-"

Your mother shushes you, "it's time."

The reality of the situation didn't hit you until it was time to walk down the aisle but with the help of Mildred and Daphne, you were able to overcome it.

That was also the only time you've felt the lips of your husband.

Since the wedding it feels as though all the progress you two made was wasted, even Mildred was tired of your constant complaints before and after she left.

You sit in the library, biting your nail until it hurts and turn the page; a new habit of yours, one Eloise would be proud of.

You started hiding away to read when everyone went off to live their lives now that the beginning of yours has ended started. You’ve been reading more since your cousins’ departure; it was a tearful morning but you're happy to know she’s out living her life the way she wants.

Then Daphne and Simon left the hall so they could return to their lives in their own home with little Augie.

You've tried to go out with Violet and Lady Danbury, but they preferred to ask when you two would expand your family; safe to say you also hide in here for another reason.

The youngest Bridgerton’s are swept away for their studies as they continue to grow. Francesca and Eloise are nowhere to be found half the time (hence where you got the idea).

You don't know if you'd be able to handle talking to the other two brothers since marrying the eldest. The comments they make at breakfast are enough, going on a walk with them would be too much.

Not that you mind the quiet even if it does get lonely at times.

You push yourself off the ground, placing the book back in its place only now realizing how dark it had gotten and your candle has died, providing little light to guide you; its barely the size of your thumb and the wick is dying the longer you stay here.

You open the door, carefully closing it and wince as the hinges creaking echoes down the hallway. You pause at the sound of footsteps only to hear a familiar girls whisper. "Hyacinth?"

She smiles, "what are you doing here?"

"I was reading."

"In the dark?"

You two glance down at your source of light that died as soon as she mentioned it. "The candles died."

“Can you take me back to my room?”

You smile and nod, “of course I can.” You grab her hand and try to find your way back to the hallway where her room is.

“Finally, we found it.” You glance down at her, “I told you, we would.”

She smiles up at you with a sleepy expression. “I knew you would.”

You open the door and get her settled into bed before exiting.

You wonder what it would be like to have your own child and stop. Are you really thinking about what it would be like to have a child when you haven’t seen your husband since your wedding day?

You shake your head and continue down the hallway before turning around, realizing you made a wrong turn; you sigh, leaning against the railing, staring at the ballroom floor.

You remember the first time you arrived at the hall and saw him. You didn’t know why your heartbeat was so fast until your cousin explained it to you.

You wonder if he knows how you feel and if that’s the reason, he’s been avoiding you.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

You spin around and find- “Ben!” You cross your arms to cover you.

He smiles, “what are you doing out of bed and away from your husband?”

You take the jacket he offers you, “I’d rather be reading but my candle died- oh no.”

“What?”

“I left it in your sister’s room.”

“Ah, so you’ve seen the whole family other than the one man you should be seeing.”

“Quiet now, Benedict. Unless you want others to know you’ve seen your brother’s wife in her night dress.”

“It wouldn’t be the biggest scandal our family has dealt with.”

You lower your head, rubbing your forehead at his words. “You’re an idiot. I’m going to bed.”

Anthony had a rough night and going to bed was something he desperately needed, maybe seeing your figure laying in our shared bed would make him feel better; he always seems to calm down when his eyes land on you.

That was something he always enjoyed about you whenever you were around.

He stops removing his coat when the door opens, and his brother is behind you while you stay in the doorway with his coat around your shoulders.

His brother takes the item from you and takes his leave before Anthony starts asking questions (not before Benedict gives him a suggestive look).

He doesn’t want to ask- he shouldn’t ask, it’s not his place. “Something I should know about?” He hopes this doesn’t lead to a fight.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to pretend as if my brother walking you, my wife, wouldn’t be a scandal if we were elsewhere.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” You ask, tired of all the games; him avoiding you and now having an interest in you.

“Do you know how much it affects me?”

An annoyed sigh escapes him, revealing to you how he feels (about the situation and not yourself). “What affects you, sweetheart?”

You ball your fists, “stop calling me that.”

He can’t call you such an endearing name when he hasn’t been acting like your husband. “That is what a husband is supposed to call his wife, is it not? A charming word of endearment for a handsome lady, such as yourself.”

“Stop talking…”

“What else am I to call you? I cannot call you by your name, it would prove-”

“How little we care for each other.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“You are a pest.”

“A pest,” he whispers, finding himself offended.

“You have never once thought of myself in the manner of being one’s wife but yet you act like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re my husband.”

“Am I not?”

You study him. “You want to make a big deal out of this when you’ve been avoiding me since the wedding? Therefore, you are a pest.”

“I- I haven’t- when was I avoiding you?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He struggles to remove his coat and you make your way towards him, helping him.

“Your brother found after I helped Hyacinth get back to bed after she found me exiting the library. He didn’t want anyone else to see me in such a… intimidate manner.”

You stare at him through your lashes. “Anything else you want to add? Maybe,” you place his jacket on the back of the chair before taking a seat at the vanity. You start removing the pins and ribbons keeping your hair up, your tiredness hitting you as you prepare for bed.

He sighs, untying his collar. “I wasn’t avoiding, I’ve been… busy.”

“Busy? You’ve been busy?” You undo the sheets, settling onto your side. “I’m going to sleep until you can come up with another excuse on why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I- believe me when I say I wasn’t avoiding you because I- this isn’t easy.”

You spring up, glaring at him. “And you think this is easy for me?”

“I’m not saying anything about our marriage. I have been,” he pauses, thinking of the right word. “Dealing with personal matters, things you shouldn’t have to worry about because of a mistake I made in the past. I am trying to protect this because I care about you.”

You gulp, “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry for thinking you were avoiding me but to be fair,” you spring forward, pointing to him. “I- I-“ You struggle to speak as you catch the sight of his bare chest.

He knows what he’s doing to you and his chest warms at the thought of only you being the one to see him in such an intimate way.

You turn away, fiddling with the sheets. “Like I said, I’m sorry for assuming the worst but considering-“ You close your eyes, following the way his lips moved against yours. You push him away, the warmth of his chest lighting a fire within you. “Just because we are married, does not mean you can use your body to change the subject or get me to stop talking about something you don’t want to.”

The corner of his smile twitches before he allows himself to smirk.

You’ve only ever seen him use this expression with his family, never once was it directed at you.

You’re happy tonight ended the way it has, you’re feeling closer to him, learning more of what makes Anthony Bridgerton tick.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving with every breath he takes. “I’m here.” He pulls away from you.

Your hand falls at your side.

His figure fades away, leaving you confused.

You burst up, confused as to what your dream means and glance beside you, finding him still asleep. You push yourself out of bed, needing the get away for a moment, sitting in the bench underneath the window.

You stare at the stars, wondering if there was some way, they’d be able to respond to your questions. It’s only been several days since your marriage became official; you still feel as though you’re not and none of is real.

You think back to your first kiss you two shared at the altar and the one you shared before going to bed. Your fingertips brush against your lips, relishing the sensation you felt then as it fills you with something you never thought you’d be able to enjoy.

‘Is this what love is?’ You think, staring at the bright moon, knowing it won’t answer you.

You glance back at him and wonder if he’ll ever love you the way-. You wipe away the stray tear, knowing how much it’d break you if he decided to cheat or leave you entirely.

Your greatest fear was thinking you’d end up alone.

Now you fear he’d be the one to leave you without looking back.

He squints, the moonlight disturbing his slumber. “What are you doing up?”

Your head snaps in his direction. “Hmm?”

He repeats his question, sitting up in bed, his night shirt wrinkled and slipping off his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, not believing your own words. You crawl back into bed when you notice he won’t fully fall asleep until you’re near.

As soon as you settle onto your side, his breathing evens out.

You lay your head on the pillow, fighting the thoughts you know will keep you awake, feeling you’ll need more sleep than anything.

"We need to try for a child."

He glances up from his work. "I didn't realize your mother was in town."

You narrow your eyes to him, something he is truly fond of even if you are upset with him. "I'm going to pretend as if you didn't say that."

You close the door and pace around the floor in front of his desk.

“If you find yourself calm enough to talk, could you repeat what you said when you busted into my office.”

He knows what you said, there's no denying what he's heard but what's got you riled up to bring up such a topic.

The wedding was only three weeks prior, he knows of the idle gossip some of the other women enjoy talking amongst each and he's curious as to who said something.

He's also been trying to keep himself busier than usual to keep him from staying up too late and thinking of performing such acts upon you. He sets his pen down, giving you his full attention. “Why are you asking now?”

“I’m not asking,” you argue.

Is it such a wise idea to try and push for this? Most likely not but you're too upset over the gossip to think logically.

He studies you for a moment, wanting to understand what happened to make you think such a thing.

“What happened? I mean, you and Daphne went out for a walk, right?”

You pause, trying to understand where he’s getting at before nodding.

“Who said something to you?” He raises his brow.

“No one… exactly,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“I know they’re expecting me to be with child by now or at least, in the works of trying for a baby and I don’t want there to be another Whistledown column with either of our names in it. It’s not just my reputation that could be ruined, it could be yours or your family’s this time.”

He can’t help but smile at your kind thoughts. “I appreciate the concern and I’m sure my family would as well, but everything is going to be fine. We don’t need to worry about this.”

You continue having your pity party. “I’m glad you seem to think so.” You furrow your brows, thinking about how he’s avoiding the topic. “Why are you putting this off?”

“Putting what off?”

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t act as coy as your brothers do when asked about their courtships.”

He doesn’t have a way out, does he? A knock on the door alerts him. “I have other business to attend to, I’ll see you at dinner?”

You scoff, “you pretend as if you want me and need me when we are in our shared room but now that we are out in the open you want nothing to do with me? Tell me, are you just using me for your own gain?”

He sighs, “please, can we,” he glances at the door to find his brother. “Talk about this another time?”

You nod, offering a fake smile, “of course, husband.”

His attention turns to you once more, “I thought we weren’t going to have the normal marriage?”

“It seems we were both wrong.” You shrug. “Goodnight, husband.” You yank the door open, rushing past Benedict and the guest without looking back.

Kate smiles watching as you put yourself further away from the one person she wants. “It seems you and your bride are having minor troubles, may I?”

Anthony grits his teeth. “What’s brought you here, to my family’s hall, today?”

Her mischievous smile turns into an evil smirk, “I’ve come to visit an old friend, after all, didn’t you say I was always welcome?”

“That was before you tried to take my family’s fortune and run off.”

She plays with the cuff of his coat sleeve. “If it makes you feel better, I have a husband.”

“Then you should be with him.” He removes her hand from him.

If this had happened a year ago, he would be crawling back into her embrace but now that he has you, the only person that can keep him sane; he’s not going to make that mistake.

He sits down at his desk, rereading the page he was working on when you came in. He knows he’d be stupid if he fell for her tricks once more and ruined your marriage (and family name).

She pouts, not liking the fact that he doesn’t want her anymore.

“Perhaps you should go back to your home. We must clean up for dinner,” Benedict chimes in.

She spins to face the second eldest, “dinner? I’d love to.”

Anthony pushes himself out of the chair. “That’s not an invitation.”

“Why? Are you scared I’m going to ruin your precious marriage? You truly think I’d be harsh to do such a thing?”

“We don’t need to think it if we know.”

She smirks in trump, feeling as though she’s won.

You glance at the two with a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Is this the way your marriage is going to end? It took a while before you could remember where you knew her from and as soon as it clicked, you were fidgeting in your seat. Why did he allow her to sit so close to him?

She knows he's a married man and doesn't care. Maybe she thinks the marriage is fake and- you aren't worthy enough to be his wife.

You push the food around on your plate, your appetite forgotten. You remember the rumors about their relationship but could never be proven since she went back to India with her mother but now that she's back, you don't know what to think.

He notices and wishes that she didn't invite herself to join his family tonight.

You ask him about expanding the family line and him avoiding the topic entirely because he doesn't want you to feel as though this is a duty the two of you have to do.

He remembers when you two were first engaged and how you wanted to marry someone who truly loved you rather than someone marrying you out of a convenience.

His heartbeat when you told you should try for a child, he nearly passed out on the spot at the thought of you baring one of his children.

He knows you'd make fantastic mother; he doesn't doubt that in the least but since the wedding day he's realized something he should have a long time ago- something Kate is seeing for herself; he truly loves you.

Nowhere is it near what she thought they had but she's happy that he has someone who cares for him in more ways than she could.

She bids her farewells before pulling you to the side. "I apologize for intruding on your family dinner, but I think you should know you have nothing to worry about."

You furrow your brows. "I'm sorry, what-"

She shakes her head. "He loves you in more ways than he ever could care about me. I saw it tonight." She smiles, "all I ask is that you take care of him better than I could. I know you're good for him."

You stare at the door as it closes, unsure if anything that’s just happened is real or if this is a fever dream.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to face your husband and gulp. “Perfectly fine, why do you ask?”

“Did- She didn’t say anything, did she?”

The blank expression from your face falls and is replaced by one of annoyance. “What if she told me something she shouldn’t have? Is there something you wanted her to hide from me?”

He shakes his head, “is it too late to say no?”

You scoff, “you’re an idiot.” You close the door, not caring if it slams shut or not.

He stops it before it closes in his face, “I’m sorry I- it’s not true.”

“Then what is? Why do you care whether she’s told me about yours and her relationship or not? I know about you two. I’ve read the columns and-”

“That’s what I was worried about. I don’t want you to think something that isn’t true happened.” He stands behind the chair in front of your vanity. “I don’t want you think I’m a rake when I’m not, us marrying has changed things-”

“Us getting married is the only reason you’ve changed?”

“No,” he stumbles over his words, something he does more when he’s around you than anyone else he’s ever spoken to. “I-”

You push yourself out of the chair and walk towards the bed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I keep pushing and I’m sorry but right now, I just want to go to sleep.”

“After you listen to what I have to say.”

“I have not felt the way I do for anyone else. I- no words can come close to what I feel for you.”

His grip tightens on the back of the chair. “I cannot- cannot breathe when you are near.” He catches your gaze, “you drive me insane when you try and argue with me. I don’t understand how you have vexed me and stolen my every thought. When you are here all I can think of is you, when you go out with my sister, you are the one thing on my mind. I- you, you are the bane of my existence, but I can’t seem to keep myself from you.”

You turn around, catching his gaze in the mirror. “Why are you telling me this?”

He spins around, “so you understand why I have changed. It’s not because I don’t care for you. I care too much about you. I have for a long time which is why I was scared when that bee was near you.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I was terrified I was going to lose you and I didn’t understand why until our marriage.”

“But- that was days ago.”

“Exactly,” he takes a step closer. “I’ve been losing my mind trying not to push you into something you’re not ready for. And then, earlier when you came to me, telling me we should try for a child. I didn’t know what to think.”

“What about Kate?”

He owlishly blinks, trying to understand where you’re coming from. “What about her?”

“You’ve been with women before me and I’ve accepted that, but Kate was here, having dinner with your family. She’s- she’s been around town from what I’ve heard being whispered behind my back. She was here and you didn’t tell me. You- you say that you love me, but I don’t know what to believe when the woman you were in love with, who later broke your heart, returned into your life and you didn’t so much as think to tell me. Benedict was more involved than I was!”

You don’t know why you’re getting so upset over this, it shouldn’t bother you this much since you don’t-

“I didn’t want her to spout lies about me to you and make you think I am not going to be a good husband.” He grabs your hands, “believe me when I say she is not relevant. You are my future.”

Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “How-” Your nose twitches as you purse your lips, collecting your thoughts before you completely explode.

“How what?” He switches between looking into one eye and then the other.

“How could I be blind?”

“To what?”

“I have loved you since I could understand what the word meant and now you- you-” You gesture to your back, “help me with my corset. I cannot breathe.”

He nearly rips your dress off you as he pulls the strings keeping the oxygen from getting into your lungs.

You hang your head, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“Sweetheart…”

You turn around, pointing at him with wet cheeks. “You have ruined me. You have ruined me for any other man since before my first debutant and have had my heart for just as long and I didn’t know it yet.”

He holds his hand out for you, allowing you to take a step closer to him.

You accept and stand with a few inches between you two. “You have bewitched me from the beginning, if you can accept my foolishness and accept me now, I would happily give myself to you only if you can return the feelings.”

“I wouldn’t be able to survive if I declined your love.”

For the first time since the wedding, the two of you share a genuine kiss and not one where he tries to use his body to distract you. It’s one that makes it feel like the world’s stopped spinning and you two are the only ones in the world.

A knock on the door alerts the two of you.

You wince, covering your eyes with your hand before reaching over for him. “Anthony, wake up.”

“I’m coming in and I hope you two are decent.” She groans, “God, you two are naked. Gross.” Mildred complains loudly to whoever stands outside the door with her. “I thought they’d at least have the decency to be awake by now.”

You can hear Benedict’s voice, but it comes out all muffled because you’re not fully awake.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to find your beautiful face lying beside him, hair in disarray on the pillow. His thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “Good morning, Viscountess Bridgerton.”

You find it hard to resist the urge to smile and open your eyes, staring at him with nothing but love and happiness. You hum, brushing back his hair so it doesn’t look as messy, wanting to see more of his handsome face.

“Good morning, Viscount Bridgerton.” You remove your hand from his hair, pulling his hand away from your cheek to peck his palm. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Spending time with my wife, although I do have to say, I don’t think she’d appreciate me lying in bed with someone as breathtaking as yourself.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think if you paid her the same comments you do to me, she’d understand.”

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know. I think you’d have to meet her to find out the kind of woman she is.”

“I think I know.” You lean against your elbow, meeting him halfway for a morning kiss.

“Would you two hurry up? We have plans. I did not come here on a boat to see you two to stay in bed when I have plans with my cousin. Do you hear me, Bridgerton?”

He sighs, flopping back onto his back. “How could I not?”

You smack his chest before pushing yourself out of bed. “I’ll be ready soon. Go downstairs and wait for me, Millie.”

“If you’re not down here before sunset. I’m leaving.”

You chuckle to yourself. “Okay.”

He pulls you closer to him, hands resting against your waist, slowly wrapping around you. He kisses the exposed parts of your back before pulling you down, kissing along your shoulders.

“This cannot be safe.”

“Just because it’s a new corset, doesn’t mean it’s not safe.”

“For the baby.” He ties the strings through the loops. “When can we tell them?”

“When they won’t freak out.”

“Never, okay.”

You chuckle and spin around, placing your hands on his shoulders. “They will know soon. It’ll be fine.”

He stares into your eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I think that’s my line.”

“Not today.”

You peck his lips before ordering him to tie the corset. “I’ll see you after our walk.”

“Don’t overexert yourself.”

“I won’t. Goodbye, ‘Thony.”

His eyes never left yours as you’re dragged away by your cousin.

Benedict steps inside. “Someone’s happy.”

He shakes his head, ignoring his brother; so happy go feed into the comments.

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