#and by that time his father already knows? that hes looking for permission to leave. he doesnt say it. he just looks.
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bumblydumbly · 3 months ago
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i think that if kabru saw that “laios meeting falin for the first time” strip he’d be sobbing uncontrollably
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kosije · 1 year ago
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sins in silk
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c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903
"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"
"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."
"Yes, Princess."
"Oh, Will?"
"Yes, Princess?"
"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"
"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"
"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."
All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.
It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.
Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.
Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.
When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.
"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.
"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.
"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."
"I shouldn't-"
"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.
Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.
"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.
"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"
"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"
"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"
"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."
He doesn't look convinced.
"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"
"That is not it, Princessa-"
"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.
"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"
"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'
"I’m sorry?-"
"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.
"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.
"This can not happen."
"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.
"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.
"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."
"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.
"We have all night to just the two of us."
And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.
You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.
"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.
He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."
"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.
"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.
"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."
And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.
"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."
That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.
"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.
"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"
You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.
Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.
Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.
"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.
"Your Grace,"
"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.
"M-miguel,"
"Yes, Princessa?"
"Please."
"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.
"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.
"And what shall I do instead?"
"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.
"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.
"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.
"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.
When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.
"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.
"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."
He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.
"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.
"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.
His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.
"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.
"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.
"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."
It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.
"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."
"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.
"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.
"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."
"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.
"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."
"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."
"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.
Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.
"Your, Grace-"
"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.
"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."
"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.
It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:
A promise.
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lilacgaby · 22 days ago
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˗ˏˋdie for you.ᡣ𐭩
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after an attempt on your life, the royal family turns to promising young blood, hoping to find someone to protect you. katsuki was chosen and ended up dedicating himself to you in a way even he never predicted.
✩pair. knight!katsuki x princess!reader tags. fem!reader, royalty, no quirk au, swords, violence, pet names, reader is referred to as she/her, fighting, fluff, happy ending, wc. 7k
✩note. this is like really old, i decided to let it graduate from draft jail while i work on the otherr
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A sword at your throat. the familiar weight of your crown on your head.
that's all that you processed before it faded to black.
who knew a walk in the garden would be so dangerous? the attempts on your life were growing more frequent by the day, the recent tensions between your kingdom and the villages surrounding it just fueling the violence.
of course, this, much like the other three attempts in the past week hadn't worked. the witches and wizards around you successfully poisoning the man holding you and killing him instantly.
it barely shook you anymore, the feeling of waking up in your bed safe and sound after being threatened. perhaps you were getting too used to the sensation of being in danger.
but this didn't help you in the case of your mother, who worried, and rightfully so. they had called you into the grand courts the next morning, giving you a day of reprieve before letting you in on the plans.
“[name].” your father, the king spoke. his eyes looking sorrowfully down at you, as if he pitied you. “we will be searching for new crowns guard members and keeping you under full time surveillance from now on. these attempts are
becoming more and more common, and you have no means of defending yourself.”
you sighed, crossing your arms. “i don't have any say in this? being under constant watch is disgraceful.”
“my dear, it is only what's necessary! i argued over this in your stead for days, but with these recent attempts.. it is what needs to be done.” your mother pleaded with you.
a moment of silence passed over, thoughts flowing like a waterfall through your mind. knowing she had the final word, you bowed in mock agreement. “i give you my full permission to do whatever needs to be done.”
“very well then, fetch me the fresh blood.” the king barked. “only the best, i want a good bunch weeded out before the trials.”
at this, the consultants bowed and rushed out to the villages. the trip to the village was almost an hour away, and people working for the royals were not very favored at this moment because of the strained relationship. the horses led them to the villages, the sound of their stomps the first evidence of the new arrival's presence in the town.
katsuki, who had been sharpening his swords outside, was the first of the young men in the village to see the royal carriages arrive. with a glare, he waltzed over to the central square, where many others had already gathered.
“i apologize for the intrusion!” a man, wearing silks worth more than a house stood, speaking quite loudly. “we have job opportunities for any young soldiers in training! if you pass the king’s trial, your family will be greatly compensated. any willing to enter, please,” he stepped over to gesture to the carriage with empty spots. “gather your belongings and settle into the carriage before sundown. thank you!”
katsuki scoffed, looking over at the other imbeciles who thought this would be their big break. did he care for royals at all? no. but this would be a way to climb to the top. a way to become a big name. so, he'd go.
he walked right back to his mother's store, a tailoring business, and starting packing. “i'm leaving.” he announced to her and his father, a satchel packed and swung around his arm as he looked nonchalantly.
his mother only waved a hand. “go do whatever you'd like, but don't die.”
his father, with a tearful expression, wished him good luck with a smile. “you'll do amazing son.. though i don't know where exactly you're going. you've always been destined for greatness.”
“of course i am. don't fail the business in my absence.” he turned and walked out of the only home he'd ever known, to go and see what these royals were all about.
he was sat next to a lot of the village boys he'd grown up with, a bunch of them must have lost hope, because the numbers dwindled down severely. with a smack of a whip, the horses began to move, guiding the now twelve men to the kingdom.
the estate was even more huge up close, the golden sunlight from the fleeing sun making the castle seem all the more impressive. even katsuki couldn't help but voice his opinion, muttering under his breath, “wow.”
they were dropped off in front of the main door of the castle, leading to the main chamber. the twelve nervously walked in, greeted by the sight of the king’s piercing eyes, and the queen's grateful smile.
“is this all who came then?” the king said, his voice bellowing throughout the castle. at a man’s nod, he began to address the villagers.
“you all, i offer my thanks for your participation. recently, multiple uprisings have been taking place in different villages. ones that have threatened my daughter’s life. we've done our best to keep this out of the news, so most of you have not heard of this before, correct?”
the boys all nodded, surprised at the revelation that the princess might have been killed.
“the reason why i sent out for you, is because i want not only a personal guard for my daughter, but a crowns guard protecting the perimeters of the castle. all of you, for even arriving here, will be getting paid handsomely.
but, to ensure only the best is personally assigned for my daughter, you will all be dueling right now.”
surprised gasps echo and bounce off the walls, none of them were prepared, but katsuki was determined to win even in this odd situation.
“you may be forced to fight in the middle of the night or the middle of a garden, being ready at all times is key for a successful knight. if you fall to the floor you lose, this is an all out battle, so do what you must to win.”
the queen personally handed out training swords made of wood to each of them, making them all bow in thanks. even katsuki felt honored in a way, the queen’s presence the very essence of royal.
they all assumed fighting stances. since there were no rules other than to stay up, it meant they'd need to be aware of all possible threats from any direction.
“begin.”
katsuki went in with guns blazing, knocking a man to the floor instantly. others charged at him at the same time, so with a timed dodge he made them collide, then eliminated them simultaneously.
it was obvious that the king had been taken by katsuki. his eyes locked onto him, small commentary between the queen and him as they examined the way he fought, his fighting style brute yet calculated.
there was now only three left, the weaker of the men being taken out the fight in a flash. katsuki let them take the first move, them naturally charging at eachother because of their proximity.
with a smart move, katsuki knocked them over as they were on the offense, kicking the other’s lower body to knock them over.
applause rang out through the court, servants and consults clapping for him. even the king and queen gave him their respects. katsuki could only smirk, he really was destined for greatness.
“it's decided then, you my lad, will be assigned to my daughter’s detail tomorrow morning. tell me your name.”
he pointed his sword at the king, making the servants appear applauded at his audacity. “katsuki bakugo. don't you forget it.”
the king could only let out a hearty laugh. “i don't think i could bakugo. as for the rest of you, you all fought valiantly. you will all be assigned your positions tomorrow by the head of the knights. bakugo, follow that young lady over there. you will sleep in only our best chambers.”
he smirked victoriously as he followed the older servant, his satchel in her grasp. with a polite smile, she walked with him down the hallways. he decided to question her about this princess, wondering if she'd be stuck up. “hey, lady.” he asked, making the girl jump.
“ah.. yes?”
“this princess of yours, how's she act? stuck-up?” he questioned, noting the way the servant’s eyes seem to get offended for her. “no, no! i've worked for many princesses you see, and she's been the most gracious one i've had the pleasure of serving.” he nodded to signal he was listening, as she continued.
“she has her moments of frustration, but never takes it out on her staff. she's a very kind princess, the future of this kingdom is safe in her arms. that's what i believe young man.” the lady finished, stilling in front of a large door. “this is where you'll be staying, the princess herself stays in the room across the hallway. from when she wakes up you will need to be there, so get some sleep.”
she opened the door, revealing a huge bedroom the size of his shop. the bed weaved of silk and linen, pillows feathery soft, a gorgeous window offering a view of the moon. there was even an area dedicated to just weaponry, not to mention his own private bathroom. he felt speechless as he was left alone there, the clothes he wore feeling unfit for this new environment.
he fell asleep pondering this new life of his. wondering if this was going to be worth the headache of being at some princesses hand and feet.
he was woken up by the same old lady, embarrassed of how deep of a slumber he'd been in. those sheets were heavenly, he'd have to get some for his parents back home.
he was given royal clothing, the cloth feeling light and refreshing on his skin. a purple band around his arm signifying his connection to you. as he put his sword on his back, he walked over to the room across his. he knocked on the door and waited.
the sight that greeted him made him think he had died and went to heaven. the old lady had never mentioned just how gorgeous you were, the silk night robe clinging to your figure in all the right ways, your face still dreamy from being half-asleep, your hair slightly messy from how you slept on it.
“hello?” you said, your hands holding the door open while eyeing the handsome knight outside your room. he was very clearly eyeing you, you'd be flattered if you weren't so sleepy. “are you my new knight?”
those words finally snapped him back into reality. “um.. yes. yes i am. im bakugo.” he replied, standing tall and at attention now. “oh, okay. come in bakugo. i'm [name].” you stuck your hand out for him to shake, but he had to bite back the urge to kiss it.
he didn't know why he was panicking so bad, this had never happened before. he had known several gorgeous women back in town, ones that had even come on to him, but you were on a different league to them.
he had always laughed and joked about those knights who'd willingly lay their lives down for a princess, but he'd never understood them more then when he was just in your presence.
he shook your hand tightly, before letting go and just standing awkwardly. “i don't really.. know what to do.” he said honestly. “you don't have to watch me all day, just don't leave me alone. i think.” you said before going back to lay on your bed. “i don't have any meetings or stuff today so, i can give you a tour around here if you want? i don't feel like just doing nothing all day.”
“anything you want princess.” the words had slipped out his mouth before he could process it. he'd smack his hand over his mouth if he could, but he didn't want to embarrass himself further. you didn't seem to notice his turmoil though, stretching and walking over to your bathroom. “okay, that settles it then. you can lay on my bed while you wait for me bakugo.”
you changed into a casual everyday dress, choosing the one with the easiest corset to tie yourself. basic makeup and hairstyle aside, you walked out ready to take him around.
after styling your hair, you grabbed his hand off where he was sat on the bed. “let's go!”
you were going to be the death of him.
your words were barely processed as he was enthralled by the sight of you. your mouth was moving yet he couldn't hear anything more than the sound of his beating heart. your skin was glowing, lips soft and plump, eyes shining and full of intrigue.
his hands grew sweaty, he hoped you didn't notice as you pulled him along with you for the fifteenth time today. you'd finally finished he though, until you revealed you'd only gotten through one floor. you laughed at his distressed expression, and brought him out to the garden instead.
“this is my favorite spot.” you admitted, taking him to farthest side of the garden where you could get a view of the village. his village. “i wish i could visit, it seems so.. inviting, you know?”
“that's where i live.” he pointed to the house on the edge of the village, although it was small from his perspective, he could recognize the cloths laying outside from miles away. “my family owns that shop, i practiced outside there everyday.”
your eyes grew wide, smiling at the news. “really? that was you? i always saw someone running around there.”
he flushed, he'd never realized he'd had an audience. especially not a royal one. “youre not lying right?”
“of course not. people watching is all i really do out here, besides almost get killed you know?”
“huh.. those are two very interesting hobbies.” you smacked his arm playfully. he decided to keep telling you about the village. pointing out the villages, explaining what happens inside, telling you about his daily life back there.
he felt your eyes on him the entire time, though thankfully he was starting to get more used to your presence.
they had brought dinner out for the two of you, the spread being larger than katsuki ever had in his dreams. the amount of meats, salads, cheeses, and wines on the table would've lasted his family for months he thinks.
“choose whatever you'd like bakugo.” you invited. he nodded and started to eat, you did too. most of the items went uneaten though, you two getting full before even eating half of it.
“it's okay, they'll save this so don't feel bad.” you assured, taking his hand a final time. “i'm kind of sleepy though so, i'm gonna head to bed.” he followed you back to your room, feeling like a boyfriend leaving his girlfriend at her home when you left him with a, “goodnight bakugo.”
the next day was one where he actually had to work. sitting around your bed as the servants surrounded you, tightening the corset around you, doing your hair, and finishing off with your makeup. he followed you and your entourage as they led you to the meeting room.
he stood by your chair as various other royals came up to you and your family. he was surprised at the utter lack of awareness they seemed to have, asking for large sums of money and help with no embarrassment.
'aren't rich people supposed to be fancy? why do they ask for things more than the poor?’ he pondered, looking down at you and your bored expression.
for some reason, the topic of your hand in marriage was a recurring topic whenever the foreign royals didn't seem to get far. they'd talk about you like some object, a prize to be won.
all you'd do was yawn in boredom your father denying every request that day. no wonder everyone wanted to murder you.
a knife was flung at you faster than anyone could process, the only sound was the unsheathing of katsuki's sword in response. he was now in front of you, the knife in his hand as the guards swarmed the royal who had attacked you.
the king and queen looked at him in respect, as you did in awe.
that happened a lot more over the months, you and him grew closer and closer, but any public meeting where your attendance was needed would be a hotspot for potential attempts.
you had started to grow enamored with him too, his name slowly changing to a more familiar “katsuki.” his presence being by your side even when it wasn't required, you would test the bounds of his physical affection more. the sight of you two hugging as you read was not a strange one anymore, in fact it was preferred for the both of you.
he used to only had seen you as a stepping stone for his success, a rock in the bridge for his assent to victory. but as he held you in his arms, hearts in his pupils as he doted over you silently, he knew he was too far gone.
late night talks turned into affection shared between you. forbidden kisses and pleasures untold as you held eachother through the night.
his room began to dust, his bed going unused as he'd be with you eternally. it became an armory more than anything, as whenever he'd finish up any business he'd find himself running back to your side. he wished to live eternally there.
he was in his room once, disrobing after spending another day with you. he was lost in thought, before he heard you scream. he ran out, sword unsheathed, eyes rabid and wide as he saw the tip of a sword pressed against your neck, blood dripping down as the offender held you as a shield.
“you're a villager too aren't you? don't you realize with the death of the princess the kingdom will surely fall?” the man spoke, deepening the sword into your throat as katsuki gripped the hilt of his so hard he thought it'd snap. “i am a villager. im a villager at heart and in soul. but killing someone without any affinity other than blood is purely idiotic.”
the man scoffed, throwing you to the floor and making you groan. his boot pressed onto your back as his sword hung over your vital organs. “i see. you choose to be a dog.
even so, if you do behead me here it will achieve nothing. we want change, change that cannot be achieved without th–”
“shut up.” katsuki swung his sword through the heart of the man. “don't look up [name].” he directed, before throwing the man out of your window where he had broken in from. he watched as he fell to the ground, the blood of his body painting the pristine white roses red. he closed the window, closing the blinds just for precaution. you were looking at him, eyes wide and white with fear. your hands shaking
he looked at you, an expression in your eyes you couldn't place. the hilt of his now bloodied sword was still tight in his hands, until he let it drop to the floor.
he held his arms out, letting you crash into him and confide in his protection.
you sobbed in his arms, this attempt was different, it was calculated. you were all alone, and scared. he stitched your neck up, the blood spilling all over your dress as you whimpered in pain. you didn't want to be left alone now, not ever again. katsuki didn't leave your side though, he slept with you through the night. being there when you woke up.
he held you through the morning, no words leaving his lips. your eyes were swollen from crying, you face buried deep in his chest. he had a thoughtful expression on his face as he caressed you, suddenly pulling you out the bed with a determined look on his face. “trust me.” was all he uttered before leaving the room.
he dragged you down to speak with your father in the morning, he decided he was going to voice his opinions whether you liked it or not. “katsuki no! my father hates being questioned, please listen!”
as you begged him not to, he pulled you along like a ragdoll. “we have to do this princess, it's for your sake and mine.”
that silenced you for the rest of the walk, he didn't have to pull you as harshly now, walking beside you with your hand tightly gripped in his still.
you finally made it to the king's quarters, where he looked surprised at the sudden intrusion. “bakugo, [name], what are you two doing here?”
“why not just change the kingdom and appease the people instead of letting your daughter get hurt over and over? her neck had to be stitched together yesterday, and a man's corpse is rotting outside her bushes.” katsuki ranted, finally letting his inner turmoil's out.
“it's not your job to question me. silence now.”
“i don't think i will be silent, king. you'd rather let your daughter potentially die than give a bit of money to the poor? you hear out so many royals, so many failures of your rich society, yet you can't give an audience to the people who've built your wealth?”
silence loomed over the room, you'd never seen your father so angry. he bitterly laughed, clapping his hands. “so passionate, i knew you village peasants were interesting.”
“father, don't speak of them li–”
“silence. both of you.. since you believe that my kingdom isn't up to your standards.. do you realize that you are committing treason?”
your eyes and katsuki's shot up, you stood in front of him and started to plead. “father no! he was trying to protect me!”
“i know what is best for this situation. [name], leave the room. now.” the king ordered. you looked to katsuki for a brief moment, begging him silently to remain cordial, before waiting outside the door.
“come here boy.” he ordered to katsuki, making him walk closer hesitantly. the king started to speak with a smirk on his face.
“i will not be changing the way my kingdom was built solely because a couple peasants are starving to death.”
katsuki’s eyes widened, he continued. “my kingdom was built on this bloodshed, this suffering. a paradise where all are equal is just a fantasy, besides,
i can always have more children if she dies, i'd just prefer for my wife to not be upset at her death.”
katsuki felt nauseous as the king grew a sick smile on his face. “i like you. i see myself in you. i will give you two options lad. one: leave and do not utter a word to her, go far away and speak nothing of this. or two: i can strike you down right now and act as if you threatened me first.
how about it, peasant?”
katsuki packed up his things silently. ignoring your questions, the heaving of your chest as you begged him to stay. the tears staining your dress, the fear he knew would strike you at every moment.
you had turned him around, forcing him to look at you. to look at those eyes filled with tears just for him, the stitched up scar on your neck, the feeling of your hands pulling his. “katsuki.. why– why are you doing this? did he say something to you?” you hiccuped. “just answer me! please!”
the only safe response he could give you? none at all. he ripped his hands out of yours, breaking both your heart and his as he did so.
he walked away from you, not looking back as he entered the carriage that'd take him to a village, from where he'd have to walk a bit further.
he tried not to think of you, but how could he not when he saw you in everything? in the golden sun that served to mock him, in the grass that flowed freely in the winds, in the flowers that sprung from the ground.
he could never leave you behind. not your memory.. and not you yourself. as he sat in a tavern, drinking his sorrows away with the purple band clutched in his hand, he overheard a group of men speaking.
“so we do it next week, we have to kill the king.” they whispered, cloaks hung over their heads as they pointed out locations on a map. he was walking over before he even realized it, the group staring at him as he examined the map. he thinks it was just his liquid courage, or maybe it was just the desperation to go see you again.
“this is all wrong. the castle isn't laid out like this.” he muttered, grabbing a marker and starting to correct it. “hey– what are you doing man?” a red-haired man spoke.
“i'm fixing your map. you wanna kill the king right? i do too.”
“oh, awesome man!” he cheered. “sit next to us random guy.” he patted the seat next to him as katsuki sat down, finishing up the changes on the map.
“how do you know all this stuff?” a red and white haired man spoke, eyeing him curiously. “i was a knight until yesterday.”
this made them all gasp. “well.. guess that means you'd know it the best then, huh?” a green haired one spoke, “we really want to do this right so, help us with our strateg–”
“you can't kill the princess. that's my condition.” the group of five collectively eyed each other in confusion. “uh.. that's fine i guess. weren't really planning on it.” a yellow haired guy replied, “but we just want the king down. if you wanna keep her safe that'll be your job then random guy.”
“bakugo.”
this prompted them to go around the table introducing themselves. kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, midoriya, and shinsou. they had a mix of magic and manpower. but the only way they'd pull this off would be with immense planning. well, them anyways. he only had one goal: to save you.
the plan was for him to go to your quarters and escape with you while they caught the king by surprise. they'd need to cast spells and put the guards to sleep, the only blood they wanted to shed would be the king himself’s.
katsuki sighed. they had a week to prepare, but he didn't know what he'd do for that week away from you. he fell asleep to the thought of you, training vigorously for the chance to apologize. to take you with him, to build a life with you if you'd grace him with it.
to take you to meet his parents, his village. to show you how life entails, what it could be for the two of you:
during the day he'd train, detailing the schedule of not only the king but the servants around, the guard’s hours in full. he'd slash trees and bang rocks in anger and frustration over the cards you two had been dealt.
at night he'd ponder what to say to you. how to approach you, how to confess what had happened. how to convince you to leave with him, leave your life of luxury for one of uncertainty. a lifetime of uncertainty just to live with him.
the more he pondered the more he'd groan in frustration, which would make kirishima smack him on the head with a pillow. “go to sleep.”
he'd grunt and fall asleep to the moon, the same one you'd be looking at too.
you hadn't been faring well since he left. your days consisting of crying and screaming. you didn't leave your room, you didn't attend meetings or your classes. you didn't go to your spot in the gardens, the sight of the village mocking you, knowing he was so close yet so far.
he had rejected you. he probably hated you, the words from the man who wanted to kill you had stuck in his mind and now he was disgusted by royalty such as yourself.
your handmaids approached you with the caution you'd give to a baby, talking to you as if you were on the verge of a breakdown every second, which you were.
you hated that you'd let him into your life so easily, how much he held over your heart. you hated your feelings for him and how safe he made you feel.
what you hated the most was that you didn't hate him at all, you realized as you stared at the haunting moon, not knowing he was looking at it while thinking of you too.
days passed and it was time. they had spent the previous day traveling, bribing some horse traders to let them in through the gate. they all wore cloaks and had magic that would allow them to communicate throughout the kingdom together.
they all split up, katsuki by himself as he fled to your section of the kingdom. they all fled to surround the king.
not like he cared for that old man. all he wanted was to see you.
he noted how they hadn't bothered to clean the blood spilled on the rose beds under your window, the window that he started to climb. he hung on the windowsill as he peeked in to see you, with bloodshot eyes holding yourself. you looked as if you hadn't slept right in days, a look of paranoia over you.
he knocked on the window making you jump. at the sight of.. him with a cloak on? you scurried over, opening the window as he hopped in. “[name], i uh.. i came back for you.”
“why did you leave me in the first place katsuki?” you looked despaired, your hands clenched into fists as you stared at him.
“i.. i don't have much time. and i didn't have much time then. but i need you to come with me [name].”
“what?”
“we need to leave this place. you can't be here for a couple days and i can protect you. please [name].” he bowed down to you, pleading for you to just trust him though he didn't deserve it. the communication magic was setting off rapidly, they had made contact with the king already.
“get up katsuki, just– i'll go okay?” you said, helping him up. “but you're gonna explain everything.”
“right.” he helped you pack a bag full of essentials for you, helped you change into a dress that allowed for more mobility. he helped you down the window, holding you tight as you fled down the castle walls. he even let you keep your crowns and jewelry, your rings and things you'd loved from your birthdays.
you'd boarded the stowaway carriage, waiting for his ‘partners’ to get back. he neglected to tell you they were here to murder your father, the king, but from the spell tugging in his head he knew.
it was a success.
you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, cuddled up to him, snoring slightly. he held your hand as he held you close, you were so knocked out even the yells of happiness from the rebel group didn't wake you. they escaped into the night, kaminari and kirishima teasing katsuki about his relationship with you.
“no wonder you wanted to save her so bad, you're in love with the princess.”
“we can officiate your wedding man! as long as you don't want actual papers–”
“shut up.”
the rest of the ride was filled with that mockery, the rebels filled with excitement of what would become of the kingdom. the king was dead, the queen and princess were missing. well, the princess was safe and sound by katsuki’s side in actuality, but it's not like the townsmen knew that.
you woke up to the feeling of being carried, it was already dawn, the sun had begun to awake. katsuki was carrying you to a house of some sort. your arms wrapped around his neck, your eyes half lidded from sleep. “morning 'suki.” slipped from your lips as you yawned.
he looked down at you with a small smile. “good morning [name], we have uh-.. things to talk about. a lot of things.” he was nervous, you could tell from his tone. he set you down on a bed before sitting beside you, holding your hand.
“so, would you like the good news or the bad news first?” he asked you, avoiding eye contact. “bad news? what bad news?” you questioned, examining both him and yourself for injury. “well, your father is dead and your family has been dethroned.” he said quickly, not allowing for pause.
your eyes shot up in surprise, and just as quickly.. you.. yawned?
you weren't having much as a reaction as he planned for, he planned to have to beg you to stay, console you as you screamed out in terror, but you looked almost unimpressed. “i mean.. he had it coming. he treated everyone horribly, i hope mother is alright though.” you muttered. “anyways, the good news?”
he was flabbergasted to say the least, but he continued. “uh.. yeah. since he died the villagers usurped the throne, destroying the royal structure of the land.”
“can i keep my crown?"
“sure you can.”
“then it's okay with me.”
“oh..”
“is something wrong..?”
“nope, uh. thats all.”
“so, can we explore the village today?”
“yes, yes we can.”
he took you everywhere he imagined in his dreams. you got along with his mother, surprisingly. fitting in like a missing puzzle piece into his life.
wealth had spread throughout the lands, everyone prospering as the people had elected for a people run government.
you'd adjusted surprisingly well. your huge gowns had become modest smaller ones, your jewelry now gone and replaced with leather bands. you'd had to do chores now, jokingly complaining but honestly learning to like the mundane aspects of life.
with your knight at your side, now devoted to you in not only soul but heart, you knew everything would go perfectly.
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tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @hiimsaraaandyou @amayaaaxx
@i-the-fluffo @uy242c @irenne-stans
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wandasfavv · 8 months ago
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Make You Mine
Wanda x Fem!Reader
Summary: Ummm stepmom Wanda being upset with you for hosting a birthday party and not listening to her??
Idkkk this is my first time writing anything SO PLEASE just give me chance. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but like it’s something and I wrote this in one sitting. So please ignore any mistakes I made
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x Fem!Reader, alcohol, intoxicated r, non/con, somnophilia, mommy kink, oral(r receiving), jealousy, mentions of straight relationship, just Wanda being pervy
The floor trembled under you as music played obnoxiously through the speakers. You had the house to yourself and since it was your 21st birthday, you hosted a party at your house. There was around twenty people or so that you invited, having known them from college or even before.
With the promises of causing no trouble and being good, your father decided to give you permission to celebrate with your friends. Your step mom on the other hand, not so much.
“Y/N no, I told you already I don’t want you and your friends making a mess in the house that I know you’re not going clean,” Wanda said sternly as she set the dirty dishes in the sink. It was so rare for the older woman to ever let you do anything surrounding your friends. Despite being an adult, she’s always treated you as if you were a kid who never knew how to take care of yourself, and you hated it. Here she was doing that exact thing.
“I promise I’ll clean everything, Wanda. Just let me,” you responded, helping her clean up the table from dinner just to prove a point. She sighed before looking back up and at you, her expression displaying a displeasured look. You, being persistent, kept trying. Begged even as you put on a pleading face. “Please, I’ll do check ins and make sure nothing breaks or anything.”
Wanda found herself amused at your attempt of convincing her, the use of ‘please’ being sorta cute. However, you breaking stuff or making messes weren’t her actual concerns. She just didn’t trust you with your friends.
There were so many nights where she’d catch you trying to sneak out with them, sometimes not being able to and waking up to see you in the morning covered with marks and hickies from whatever. It made her feel an itch whenever she saw you unawarely show off anything that didn’t come from her. Plus, she was always worried about your friends taking advantage over you and making you do stuff she just thought you shouldn’t be doing. And now that you’re planning on a party where’d you be unsupervised, and possibly going to be doing more of these things, she just couldn’t bear the thought.
“For the last time. No-“
“Hey come on it’s fine. Let the kid do what she wants, it’s her 21st birthday,” your father intervened, not noticing the anger and frustration on his wife’s face. He smiled at you, and went his way to Wanda through the kitchen, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just take it as a chance to go on a date or something.”
The sight of him touching her and the word ‘date’ coming out of his mouth made your stomach churn. You didn’t know why though. Sure there were moments you found Wanda attractive and pretty even, but she was like a little less than twice your age and married to your father. It’d be weird to like her in any way like that. Right…?
“Well, thanks dad. I’ll go ahead and do it then,” you replied, your voice sounding taunting to Wanda as you glared up at her.
Excusing yourself, you went to your bedroom, trying to get the picture of the two out of your head. But before leaving, you noticed how Wanda somewhat pushed him away gently.
Back to the party, there you were taking shots and drinks down your throat like you’ve had before. Since you were now legally able to drink alcohol, everyone brought some combined with any that you found in the cabinets. You knew Wanda would probably be mad at you for taking some, but at least you left her favorite wine.
After a couple hours of playing games and enjoying your time letting the drunk feeling sink in, people began to leave, saying bye as they departed and said their birthday wishes to you. It was around 1am at this point, and you knew your dad and Wanda would be back soon. Though, you could barely see anything as you walked. After taking so much of the burning liquor and not considering the consequences, you felt completely sick and out of it, obviously not remembering your promises of cleaning up. Your phone was no where to be found and you had no clue about Wanda’s concerns.
Your last couple of friends helped you with a little bit of trash, picking up only after themselves however, and leaving most of it to you. Feeling lightheaded, you found your way to your room as you held onto the walls, plopping down on the bed once you were in as if you weren’t on the verge of throwing up. As you laid down comfortably, your eyes became heavy, leading you into a deep sleep in which you didn’t hear the car driving and parking onto the driveway.
Wanda came into the house, already prepared to yell at you after you didn’t answer her calls from earlier. She walked over the cups and napkins left on the floor toward your room, expecting you to be up and just ‘busy’ doing anything but cleaning like you said. But instead, she walked into you passed out on your bed, still in your uncomfortable clothing as you reeked of alcohol. She once again sighed out in irritation, not sure if she should be shouting at you or your father for letting you host a stupid a party.
She takes a few steps towards you, reaching her hand out to gently push the loose strand of hair from your face as you slept at the edge. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at your cute sleeping antics though, noticing your eyebrows create an indent in between and your nose twitch. Picking you up with her unusual strength, she put you into bed correctly, placing your head onto the soft pillow lightly. She paused for a moment thinking about her next move as she realized again the clothes you were wearing. They were revealing and provocative, something you’d never proudly wear in front of her or your father. Wanda bit her bottom lip, not knowing whether she should do what she’s thinking, but she did it anyway.
Slowly, she put her hands at the hem of your short top, trying her best to take it off you without you waking. She just didn’t want you to sleep in uncomfortable clothing, that’s all… Successfully pulling it off, she threw it down on the floor. Her eyes trailed down to your chest, which was still covered with your bra. She blushed a bit, finding your body beautiful yet so tempting her eyes then made their way to your bottom half, contemplating if it was a good idea to take your pants off too.
The sound of your father’s voice shook the thought out of her head. He called her name, wondering if everything was okay as the house was quiet, which wasn’t usual if it was Wanda yelling at you. She quickly got out of your room, hoping she wouldn’t be caught doing anything inappropriate with her husband’s daughter and went to her own bedroom, now ignoring the mess that surrounded her through the halls.
After about an hour, Wanda came back into your room. Just to check on you, maybe. She cleaned herself up, taking off any of the makeup she put on for the date she was just on, which was really just her having to suffer through pretending to enjoy whatever it was that they did. She was dressed in simple pajamas, just a shirt and shorts, and even then she looked perfect. Her oblivious husband was asleep now as well, and she took it as her chance to go back to your unconscious state. Walking gingerly to the side of the bed that you were on, she turned on the light on your nightstand and stared at your body again, thinking about taking off your pants like earlier. This time she did do it. Her hands went to the top of them, tugging them down with barely any force. Now leaving with you in only your undergarments, she found herself immersed in your entire being, her hand trailing down your body.
“Fuck, what am I doing…” Wanda whispered to herself as she bit the inside of her cheek in nervousness. You shifted in response to her touch, still in deep sleep as you unknowingly made her lose her composure. A soft groan left her mouth as you turned onto your side and had your back face her, exposing your ass. Looking back at the door and you, Wanda came to the conclusion that neither you or your father would be waking up anytime soon, so she crawled into bed with you on the other side, going under the cold sheets.
She’s never interacted with you with touch before, maybe just a couple hugs and light touches to your lower back, but never more as she didn’t really want to risk and indulge in anything. But seeing you now, your unconscious body, which wouldn’t know what’s about to happen, made her yearn for more.
Her hand made its way back to your face, cupping your cheek that’s faced up unlike the other which was adorably squished against the pillow. She leaned down placing a feather light kiss to your forehead to test you and to see if you really were heavily asleep. And you were. Receiving the green light to go further, her lips went father down to your nose, then to your mouth. Not caring if you were unconscious and intoxicated, she gently pushed her lips against yours, letting out a soft moan as she finally got to kiss you like she’s dreamt of from so many nights where she’d wake up with a mess in between her legs. Her hand went down to your waist, and squeezed it just a bit, but the action made you squirm and part from the kiss, once again turning and facing your back to Wanda.
Disappointed to not see your face, she breathed out. She still kept her hands on you though, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you toward her body. She put her face into your neck, taking in your scent that remained besides the alcohol. “God, I need you so bad baby,” Wanda mumbled behind your ear. Her fingers from her other hand came up to unclip your bra, freeing your chest and allowing her to grope your breasts, still lightly as she wanted you to stay asleep. Her perverted actions were so different compared to how she’d usually behave around you.
Your body responded to her many ways as she touched you. You pushed your ass against her front, your panties being the only thing separating her from touching your father down. She groaned again at this, as if your body subconsciously wanted her to fuck you. And once a small and barely audible whimper escaped from your lips, she lost it. Her head spun from the way you acted, forcing her to find ways to control herself from just pinning you down and having her way with you. She bit down on your lower neck, making you once again let out another noise of disturbance.
“So needy even when you’re sleeping… fuck, I can’t stand you,” she said quietly against your skin, biting her lip and moving her hand down your tummy and further to your center. Her fingers reached the band of your underwear, causing her to huff out in annoyance of it being there still. Being a little less gentle, she tugged it down and immediately cupped your cunt. It was kinda rough as she desperately wanted to feel you. Her fingers went through your folds, collecting your wetness. Then, she reached up to her lips to taste you as she put them in her mouth, sucking your arousal off. She moaned, and already in love with how you tasted she wanted more of it.
Her body moved down, removing the sheets off of you and her. The soft yellow glow from the light on your body mesmerized her as she positioned herself between your legs. Parting them, she bent down and put her arm underneath your thighs before having them in a tight hold with her hands gripping the smooth flesh there. Wanda looked up at your sleeping self, admiring your beauty as her lip quivered from need with your pussy just centimeters away from her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, gently licking up and between your folds, up your clit. Your body quickly began to stir, and your eyes were forced shut as you turned your head. Wanda stopped momentarily, waiting for you to settle.
Once you stopped moving, she started to move her tongue against you again. Switching between licking around your sensitive nub and entering your cunt with her tongue, she moaned at how sweet you were, making her hold on you tighter to the point where light bruises were to form. Another small whimper mixed with a moan left your mouth as Wanda hit a particular spot within you. Your hips jerked up, and this only caused her to move roughly against and in your pussy. “Mm, waited so long to make you mine…”
Now that she was lost in pleasuring you and herself, you began to wake up from the slight aggressive movements. Your eyes opened, squinting from the bright light beaming beside your face. Confused, you closed your eyes again before recognizing a feeling between your thighs. Wanda noticed you waking up, no longer caring and actually glad you were. As you looked down you saw her face covered in your wetness mixed with her own saliva. Your jaw dropped from both shock and pleasure as she continued moving her tongue in and out of your increasingly soaked center. “W-Wanda..?” You shakily spoke, reaching down to her head, only to be stopped as her hands took yours and pinned them down beside your thighs.
“Shh… just let mommy take you, okay?” She said, noticing the way your hips bucked up against her face from the name she used for herself. “You’ve been so bad, you know that? You know how upset you made me, leaving a mess outside… and hanging out with all your dumb little friends…” she said lowly against your pussy, the vibrations of her voice making you moan and tilt your head back. Her mind shifted back to previous days at the mention of your friends. “So fucking annoying, coming home with all those marks on you and from who huh? Do they fuck you better than me baby?”
The constant questions and use of cuss words turned you on further as you never had nor expected Wanda to talk to you like this. Your mind was still hazy too, from just waking up and the after effects of drinking too much. “No… no m-mommy no,” you gasped, dumbly shaking your head. Wanda moaned, hearing you say her preferred term and getting drunk off your sounds. Her grip on your hands were now even tighter matching yours as you got closer to your orgasm.
Your moaning got louder as well, somewhat worrying Wanda as she didn’t want this time with you ruined by your dad waking up. So letting go of one of your hands, she reached up and covered your mouth, the pressure being harsh. Your noises were only muffled sounds of pleasure, still arousing to hear to Wanda. “Shut up sweetie, you don’t want your father to hear you, do you?” She questions, smirking slightly as you shook your head no. She loved the way you looked down at her, your eyebrows furrowed with a look of desperation and slight fear for bringing up that fact that he was in the other room down the hall.
As you were on the edge of cumming, your free hand went down to Wanda’s hair, grasping the soft locks of brown hair like you’ve always wanted. Her tongue kept going and swirled around the clit once again, really pushing you towards releasing all over her face and specifically in her mouth. You whined against her palm, signaling to her that you needed to let go. “You gonna cum, princess? Cum all over mommy’s tongue?” She asks in a condescending tone, smiling to herself as you tried to respond under her hand. She let her hand fall for you to speak and beg her for permission.
“P-Please mommy, please I wanna cum,” you begged, whimpering as you tried to hold back before she said yes. The hold on her hair got tighter, causing her groan again. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes and Wanda couldn’t help but get more aroused at the sight.
“Mhm, go ahead baby…” Wanda replied, going at a faster and rougher pace, battling against the tiring and numb feeling in her muscle. You let go the second you hear her, moving and grinding your cunt against her to ride out the orgasm that’s making your entire body tremble. Louder and higher pitched sounds from your mouth escaped, causing Wanda to instead move back up your body and shut you up by kissing you, shoving her tongue in your mouth and making you taste your own arousal.
“Uh-huh, good girl… so good for me,” she whispered, parting form the kiss and settling beside you in the bed, pulling you in her arms in a tight comforting hold laying down. The praise made you weaker, and with her pampering you by wiping your tears away while gently petting your head, it made you lost in your mind. You panted against her chest and held onto her hand still securely. She waited for you to calm down a bit before speaking again.
“Shhhh… it’s ok, just go back to sleep dear,” Wanda said softly and moving her arms to wrap around you. She figured you were still tired, from both the orgasm and the alcohol. She right of course, and you found yourself becoming drowsy in her arms.
“Wanda…” you suddenly said sleepily, catching her attention with your stable voice. She looked down at you, still comfortingly rubbing your side. The tired look on your face showing absolutely no signs of a single thought in your head was adorable to her and she smiled while responding to you with a small “hm?”
“I’m sorry for being bad,” you mumbled timidly, looking away for a moment as there was a permanent blush. Wanda laughed softly at you, her hands now to your cheek to make you look at her.
“You’re so cute… just make it up to me tomorrow okay, and then maybe we can do something like this again,” She responded, a loving grin on her face with a light pink tint on her cheeks. You nodded slowly and smiled at her. Wanda then kissed your head, shushing you to sleep. And you listened, saying a small goodnight before quickly beginning to snore softly into her neck once you shut your heavy eyelids just for a couple seconds in her warm embrace.
Part 2(Getting Closer)
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eufezco · 3 months ago
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TAKE ME WITH YOU
you want dbf!logan to take you with him to the xmansion but do you want to go there to attend charles xavier's classes or do you have hidden intentions?
logan x afab!reader (smut) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter
—your dad told me you haven't left your room all day.
logan leaned on the doorframe, crossing his big arms in front of his body. his brown eyes were on you, lying in the middle of your bed, focused on the book on your lap.
—my head hurts every time i try to go outside. everything is too loud.
—everything is too loud —. he mocked you.
you huffed. you had used that excuse so many times before, thinking you could fool him, as if he didn't know that you could control your powers perfectly. the professor told him so, that your mind was perfectly structured, that it was impressive how much control you had over your powers for a psychic.
you had used that excuse so many times before because you wanted your parent's permission to attend charles xavier's school and if you had to play the victim for that to happen, you would.
you always did the same thing.
every time your parents let you know that logan was coming to your house for dinner on the weekend, that's when your plan started. you acted like your headache was unbearable, like you could hear the voices of even the people across the street, like you could not leave your room without covering your ears and scrunching up your face trying to shut all the voices.
it was perfect. to you, the perfect plan, and every time was the perfect chance for logan to take you with him. but to your bad luck, your performance never had an effect on your parents, much less on him.
—when did you arrive anyways?
—like an hour ago, but you already knew that, didn't you?
you smiled mischievously.
—do you think i cannot feel you when you poke around in my mind?
—oh, i know you do. it wouldn't be so fun if you couldn't feel me.
logan walked into your room. you closed your book and put it aside on the bed, no longer interested in it. right after, he picked it up and looked at the cover, with a photo of the professor and the name, charles xavier, signing as the author.
—it could be considered obsession at this point —. logan declared.
you rolled your eyes and snatched the book from his hands as you got up from your bed to place it back in its place on the shelf. you stood on your tiptoes but it was still too high and you couldn't reach it. you turned your head to look at logan. —would you mind?
he rolled his eyes and came to you, he knew what you were doing. the shelf was a bit high but you could reach it just fine.
logan took the book from your hand and stretched his body to put it on the shelf. during those seconds you were trapped between the piece of furniture and logan's body, his chest pressed against your back, his free hand held your hip in place to keep his balance and himself from crushing you.
you leaned subtly into the shelf, your ass rubbed against his crotch and logan immediately pulled away from you. you turned to look at him innocently as if you didn't do it on purpose, while your hands rested on your desk behind you, and with a little jump you sat on it.
—have you talked to my parents? should i start packing?
—you already know their answer. why don't you just use your powers to change their minds?
—if the professor knew, he would send me back home, but if you talk to them, my dad will listen to you, you are his best friend.
logan was the only person who could convince them. your parents weren't mutants, just ordinary people but they had seen how people like them treated people like you. they didn't want you to be away from them in a world where it was so dangerous to be a mutant.
yet they trusted logan. he fought alongside your father in some war and apparently, logan saved his life or something like that. you didn't remember that story very well, every time they told it at dinner time you could only focus on how the fabric of logan's shirt tightened around his big arms to the point that you could notice his veins. if you concentrated hard enough and used your powers you could even feel his warm blood running through them.
—i could have talked to them if you hadn't been putting those images in my mind while i was trying to have a conversation.
—tell me you didn't like what you saw —. you said, playfully. the eye contact became more intense when he didn't answer you.
those images were pure filth, scenarios that never happened and that you had fantasized about a million times in your head. you sent those dirty fantasies of yours to his mind while he was downstairs talking to your parents. he had to fix his position on the couch multiple times, take a sip of his drink to control the heat building up in his cheeks, and shake his head subtly in an attempt to kick you out of there.
logan remained silent which was enough of an answer. you smiled triumphantly. he shook his head, you were a lost cause.
—just imagine if i went there with you and we could spend every day together —. you raised two of your fingers and made an elegant movement while pointing at the door. logan followed your hand and saw how the door of your room closed. while he was distracted, your legs encircled around his body and brought him closer to you. — i'd be all yours, logan.
he was going to complain, he was going to tell you how you shouldn't say such things, how you shouldn't do those things to him, and how it was even worse that he allowed it. but the way your thighs squeezed both sides of his body to keep him from escaping, the way his eyes were fixed on his crotch pressing against your clothed cunt, and the way you did not take your eyes off his mouth...
logan could not even utter the first word when you crashed your lips against his.
he called your name once. you acted like you didn't hear him and continued kissing him. logan kissed you back but you could hear all the voices in his head and you didn't want him to listen to what they were saying. he called your name again. you knew that tone, that way of calling you. —this is wrong —. he mumbled into the kiss.
—no, it's not. i want you —. you whispered against his lips.
—your parents are downstairs —. logan reminded you.
you broke away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connected your lips while you raised one of your hands to the level of your heads and snapped your fingers. logan looked at you confused.
—they can't hear us now —. you had to keep your concentration for a few seconds to be able to stay inside your parents' heads. when you had it under control, you planted a kiss on logan's chin. —they don't even remember you're home. in fact, they don't even remember i'm home.
—do you ever use your mutation for anything that isn't completely twisted?
you giggled. —and this is nothing.
a grunt left his lips at your words. your mouth attached to his again as your fingers sank into the thick, brown locks at the back of his head. logan's hands were on both sides of your thighs, digging his fingers into the flesh of them while he allowed your tongue to go past his lips. with his tight grip on the outside of your thighs, logan lifted you off the desk with ease. his hands slid down to your ass as he gently dropped you on the mattress of your bed.
logan threw his hands back and pulled the neck of his shirt over his head. you gasped and squeezed him harder between your legs. your hands were quick to attach to his pecs, feeling them hard, hairy, under your touch and then your nails scratched their way down, making logan groan, until they reached his abs. —god, you're so hot —. you grabbed the dog tags hanging around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss as you lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel him against you again.
in response to the desperation of your movements, logan's hand moved between your bodies and slipped into your pajama shorts. logan parted from your lips to look at you in the eyes, surprised.
—no panties?
—i knew you were coming over. fuck, —you moaned when he put his middle finger inside you. —wanted to save us some time.
—you wait for all your dad's friends without panties?
you whined and you held on to his bicep while he added his heart finger. his eyes were fixed on your face, paying attention to all your expressions. the way your teeth were digging into your lower lip, the wrinkles on your forehead from your frown, how your lips parted every time he pushed his fingers a little deeper.
—so you do, hm.
—no, logan, shit —his thumb connected with your clit. —only with you.
—atta girl, that's what i wanted to hear.
his face hid in your neck, his beard tickled you, his teeth gave little bites to your sensitive skin there and then his lips sucked on that same spot to soothe it.
your lips were half open, your eyes closed shut while his two fingers pushed inside you and his thumb moved in circles on your clit. you sneaked one of your hands inside his jeans and underwear and gave a sweet squeeze to his hard ass, was there any part of his body where his muscles were not perfectly defined? logan grunted, feeling how you sunk your nails there and gave him some cute half-moon marks.
your legs closed around his body as he felt how your pussy tightened around his fingers. —wait, i need you, please, fuck, i need your cock.
and who was he to deny you? you shifted uncomfortably on the bed when he pulled his fingers out of you.
—you're still wearing too many clothes, don't you think? —logan said as he sat on his knees. you nodded, arching your back so he could take off your shirt and lifting your hips from the mattress so he could slide your shorts and panties off your legs.
he licked his lips as he watched you from above. so perfect. logan felt bad about all the times that he had imagined what your body would look like, he had fantasized about it when he saw you dive into the pool while he helped your father with the barbecue, he had to look away from you when he noticed that your nipples were showing through that floral dress. all that ended at that moment, with you naked under him.
your cheeks were starting to grow hot thanks to his eyes on you.
—so fucking beautiful, you're fucking perfect, sweetheart —he leaned on top of you again, connecting his lips to yours and cupping one of your boobs. —perfect fucking tits —. his lips moved from your mouth and sucked on your nipple. you whined in response, trying to focus on your hands unbuttoning his pants and zipping them down along with his underwear.
you wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, using your thumb to spread the bead of precum over the tip. he clenched his jaw as you lined him up at your entrance and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, your hands gripping his biceps as he did it.
your throat felt dry from moaning, his hips hammering into you at a hard and fast pace, the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth encouraged him to do so. but then, all of a sudden, logan's hand covered your mouth and his movements stopped.
your dad was calling you. you heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, you had let yourself get so carried away that you had freed your parents' minds. logan looked at you with his eyes open wide, his heart beating so fast he thought it would burst out of his chest. you closed your eyes shut, getting into your dad's head and listening as his footsteps approaching your room stopped.
—ugh, darling! i forgot she's not home. could you text her and tell her to buy it on her way home?
both of you let out a sigh of relief.
—this fucking turned you on, you freak —. his hand was still in your mouth, he could tell you were smiling because of your eyes, —could feel you clenching around my cock every time he came closer.
his fingers dug into the flesh of one of your thighs as he helped you to encircle that leg around his waist. your moans muffled and died onto the palm of his hands as logan pulled out and pushed in again. his dog tags dangled in your face, the tip of his cock brushed against that sweet spot inside you. the hand that covered your mouth came up to clutch the headboard above your head so he could steady himself and thrust into you harder.
you moaned his name, squeezing his body with your thighs, your pussy tightening around his cock. logan fucked you through your orgasm, making your legs shake and your eyes turn white thanks to the overstimulation, and then he thrust into you one more time before he pulled out and came on your stomach.
he let his forehead rest on your shoulder and you caressed his hair as you both tried to catch your breaths.
—do you have anything i can use to clean you up?
you looked around, looking for something on your nightstands while you were still trapped under logan's body. you shook your head.
—you should've just cum inside.
logan huffed a laugh as he moved off of you and lay down next to you on the bed. —maybe in a few years.
he reached for your panties at the foot of the bed and he ran the fabric across your stomach, collecting all of his cum in them. you rested your head on one of your arms as you rolled over on the bed to look at him. he held your panties in the air using two of his fingers. —wear them all night and i'll convince your parents for you to come with me.
you smirked and you snatched them from his hand. —deal.
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago
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Omg I love your benjicot Blackwood fics can you do a x betrothed reader soft fluff please
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There wasn’t many things in life that had brought you happiness, not since you became of an age where it was deemed necessary by your father to start looking for suitable suitors, for you were quick to catch on that life wasn’t fair especially towards the good and honest people of the realm.
They often died too soon, leaving for the rest of the realm to be poisoned and left in ruin by the selfish agendas of the richer and more powerful great houses.
So when you were made aware of your fathers plans, not bothering to ask for your permission in the matter, your initial response was to scream at the old fool of the unfairness of it all but instead you chose to ran for the Weirwoods as though that was going to change anything.
That day whilst terrible as it was, was also the day that you met Benjicot Blackwood or Benji as you liked to call him nowadays.
‘What’s wrong.’ He had asked, kneeling in front of you with a worried look.
‘I’m to be engaged.’ You told the boy with the short dark hair and stormy kind eyes.
‘Do you know to whom?’ He said as he tried his best to figure out what he could do to help, he wasn’t use to this whole comfort thing, but he was more then willing to try and to get use to comforting others for similar circumstances in the future.
You shrug, keeping your eyes downcast so that he wouldn’t see your tear stained face. ‘It is undecided for now but I know in my bones that it’ll be to a gluttonous lord of some unknown house with shady origins.’
‘Why not get engaged to me then?’ Benjicot then said out of the blue.
‘What?’ You looked up at him, unsure you had heard him right the first time.
‘Get engaged to me and you’ll never have to worry about being some shifty lords bed warmer.’ Ben said in a nonchalant mannor, which was soon betrayed by the cherry red blossoming upon his cheeks. ‘We don’t have to be in love it’s just-‘ he was abruptly cut off when you flung yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you whispered a million thanks into his shoulder, all the while Benjicot was stiff and awkward as a board before he finally relaxed and rubbed your back.
‘It’s fine, no need to thank me.’ He utters as later that same afternoon the news of your betrothal to Lord Benjicot Blackwood had been finalised, bring about the end before it had even began, and needless to say for the first time you had felt a twinge of happiness for your future.
Now as you stood beneath the very same Weirwood tree you did that fateful day, you sat beneath it with a smile upon your face and peace within your heart. You didn’t think you’d fall in love with Benjicot during your betrothal but you did and you did hard, the man was nothing short of perfect in every way shape and form, you didn’t expect yourself to fall in love with his dark hair, his stormy but kind eyes nor his chapped but kissable lips that withheld the most heavenly laughter you’ve ever heard.
He has made your heart full of happiness and joy that you didn’t know existed in Westeros, he treated you with such kindness, respect and loyalty that you couldn’t help but wonder if you were one of the lucky few to have such a devoted man such as Benjicot. You never wanted to know a reality where you weren’t betrothed to him for every man would fail in comparison, regardless of whether they came from a greater house, for all you ever wanted was a man who was undyingly faithful and wouldn’t dare let his eyes wander and you found that man in Benjicot Blackwood; and ever since then you have been falling for him every single second of every single day.
You had found your soulmate that day without even knowing it as you chuckled to yourself just as a body sat closely beside you, but instead of moving away from it you leaned into it, already familiar with the bodily warmth of your dearly beloved Benji as he pressed a sweet to to the top of your head.
‘You’re smiling today my beloved, is there reason to that or is it just me.’ He joked as you playfully scoffed.
‘I’m merely reminiscing the time we first met, right here beneath the Weirwood tree.’ You told him as you craned your head to look up at the leaves that hung above you both.
‘Still glad you’re not married off to some gluttonous lord from an unknown house with shady origins?’ Benjicot asked as he too looked up at the ruby leaves of the Weirwood, not wanting to admit that after all this time you still managed to make him nervous but in the best ways possible. Your smile widened at your own words being thrown back at you as you looked over at Benjicot and admired his side profile with adoring eyes.
‘I am because my betrothed is the sweetest man the realm has ever seen.’ You told him as you kissed his cheek softly before resting your head on his shoulder. ‘You saved me that day Benji and I am forever grateful.’
‘What did I tell you way back then? It’s nothing that you should thank me for.’ Benjicot said as he looked at you with a soft expression. ‘I’m just glad that I could offer you an alternative solution.’
You looked at him as found yourself smiling as he rested his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as he relaxed again you. ‘You also once told me that we didn’t have to fall in love during our betrothal too.’ You replied as you heard him chuckle lowly, brushing his nose over yours. ‘We did a pretty shit job of that didn’t we?’ Benjicot asked as you giggled and the young lord swore he could hear the heavens sing, for he had fallen first but saw later on that you had fallen just as hard for him in return, which he thought was solely because he had gotten you out of a predicament you didn’t want to be in.
You would later prove to him that that wasn’t the case at all and that you feelings for him were genuine and true as your heart that beats solely for him.
‘One could assume so, yes.’ You replied, kissing him on the forehead before letting your heads rest against one another once more. ‘But I don’t regret a single thing, word or moment that we have shared since for I love you far too much to depart from your side.’ You added as you moved yourself as close to him as you could, wanting nothing more then to be in his arms and listen to the sounds of his strong heart against your ear.
Benjicot didn’t put up a fight as he was quick to bring you into his strong embrace, holding you against his chest as he back remained supported by the trunk of the Weirwood tree, your head pressed to his heart as it sang its song just for you. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you cry under this very Weirwood.’ Benjicot admitted. ‘I looked at you and thought how beautiful you looked even when you were crying, which hurt my heart to witness. I want you happy and in that moment I wanted to be the reason you were happy and since then I have only fallen further each and every day, aching to one day call you what I’ve always wanted to call you.’
‘And what’s that.’ You murmured against his chest, his warmth providing you too much comfort that you were on the periapsis of falling asleep.
‘Lady Blackwood.’ Benjicot said as he pressed a kiss to your head, finding the same level of comfort you had as he too was fighting his hardest to keep his eyes open to gaze upon you longer, but alas his eyes were already closed and he smile widened as he thanked the gods for weaving your strand of fate with his own that fateful day under the Weirwood tree.
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kyber-crystal · 10 months ago
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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st4rfckerz · 8 months ago
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i’ve been thinking about this tooo much.
MDNI 18+
The tall glass building loomed in front of you, reflecting the sunlight in a shimmering display of modern architecture. You grab Sam's hand, feeling the callouses on his fingers as you ascend the steps towards the entrance. The automatic doors slide open, revealing a sleek lobby lined with marble floors and contemporary art installations.
"So this is where your old man works, huh?" Sam glances around the lavish lobby, looking up at the high ceiling, his gaze occasionally catching sight of the impressive artwork adorning the walls. You nod, leading him towards the elevator bank. "Yeah, he’s worked here since I was a baby. They're usually pretty cool about me bringing people in. Just don't touch anything too expensive, alright?" You smirk, trying to lighten the mood before stepping into the elevator, pushing the button for the floor where your dad's office is located.
As the elevator doors slide shut behind you both, sealing you inside the small metallic box, Sam’s hand creeps up, brushing your ass gently.
“Sam, no.” you drag your words, warning Sam to not go any further. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him even more. "Come on, you scared?" he whispers softly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. The closeness between you two intensifies, making it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the rising tension. Sam tries to plant a kiss to your lips but you turn your head and push him away, laughing at his sudden neediness.
“No quit it! Not here-” You turn your head away again just to have Sam grab your jaw to make you face him again. His lips press firmly against yours, the urgency of his kiss leaving no room for doubt. As he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding onto him tightly. His lean body supports yours effortlessly, enveloped by the confined space of the elevator. The faint sound of the creaky gears echo in the background, reminding you of the steady ascent to your father's office, but all you can think about is the man whose tongue now caresses yours.
His hands trace down your back, finding purchase on your hips, pulling you closer still. The passion and desperation in his kiss leave you weak in the knees, making it hard to catch your breath. Sam’s hand glides down your waist, slowly making its way under the hem of your pants. His fingers finally slip beneath your underwear, feeling the damp fabric against your arousal. A satisfied smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a low growl, the vibrations of which you feel all over. "Too easy," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
Sam’s fingers slide easily inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in circular motions, adding to the already intense sensations. “F-fuck Sam…” Your eyes flutter, reacting to his skilled touch as your body responds eagerly. The elevator inches towards your floor, but at this moment, it feels like time stands still.
"Shhh, baby, let it happen," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His words serve as permission, and soon enough, your body trembles as an orgasm courses through you. Sam holds you tighter, letting you ride out the most unexpected and exhilarating climax inside the elevator.
Finally, the elevator comes to a halt, the familiar ding breaking the spell of intimate pleasure. As the doors open, Sam releases you and sticks his fingers in his mouth, his face plastered with cockiness and pride knowing he just took you to new heights.
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gloryy-vs · 2 years ago
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aonung x shy and tiny reader
pls i live for protective aonung 😭😭🙏 they'd be childhood friends and grew up decided that they will be mates eventually
My Mate
characters: ao’nung x na’vi reader
ratings: sfw , fluff
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He always had at least one hand on you, or an arm wrapped around your waist. Ao’nung never let you leave his sight. Not much changed between you two since you were younger, he was always looking over you protectively. A running joke between your parents and his was that he was your personal warrior. Ready to spill blood for you when the time comes.
“Ma Ao’nung, come help me add a bead to my songcord. Let’s get matching ones for the Tulkun’s and their return!” You said happily, not noticing that you were interrupting his time with his friends. He didn’t seem to care, a smile creeping on his face while he got up. Ao’nung saw the two seashells in your palm, a soft grey color with a pearly coating.
As usual, he placed a hand on your lower back, turning you around gently as he spoke to his friends. “I’ll be back later. We can go hunting.” They rolled their eyes playfully, making it clear that this was an almost everyday occurrence. You flashed them an apologetic smile, they didn’t hold it against you anyways.
You excitedly explained to your mate about where you found the shells, a bit deeper in the sand, so it took you a while to find one that was similar. “Come! Let’s add them now.” You said happily, practically skipping to your shared Marui with him.
Ao’nung had a big smirk on his face, sitting down first with his legs spread apart. You grabbed your carved box with weaving materials and other beads before sitting between Ao’nungs legs with your back against his chest. You both unwrapped your songcord from your wrists, finding where the latest bead was placed and unknotting the end. He moved his arms to wrap around you, and he placed his head on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing. You loved any kind of physical contact with him, feeling his heart beat, the way his breath tickles your neck just barely.
You wrapped the twine and string around the silvery shell, securing it with a knot at the end. Your attention shifted to how Ao’nungs fingers worked so intricately, tying a knot at the end of his own songcord. He brushed a few stray strands of your hair from your face as you turned around a faced him at an angle. You held your wrist out, wanting him to tie it back for you.
“You always do it just right. Not too tight, not too loose.” In all honesty it’s because you also couldn’t tie it with one hand.
He laughed, already knowing the real reason. His hands were warm against your cooler skin, and his eyes shot ip to look at you while he tied a small bow for your songcord.
“You’re cold. Cmere.” He said, tapping away at your wrist to let you know you can put it down. He wrapped his arms around you, squishing you against him.
Rolling your eyes, you fought for him to let you go. “Cant, breathe!” You said, but he refused to budge.
“You’ll be okay.” Ao’nung said, looking down at you. His eyes stared at all of your feature for a brief moment, taking everything in.
“You’d make a perfect Tsahik.” He said, as if he was lost in thought still staring at you.
Your mouth was agape, a flustered expression covering your face as you looked at the future chief. He ran his fingers through the parts of your hair that weren’t braided, his other hand resting on your hand and caressing your palm softly.
“We should officially mate, before Eywa. I want you to be my Tsahik.” Ao’nung suggested, but the tone in his voice suggested that it was more of a demand.
You stiffened but slowly relaxed, knowing he would be with you each step of the way, even if it was a big responsibility and a important thing he was asking of you. You nodded, and a smile grew on his teal face.
“I must go ask your father permission to court you, come. We don’t have all day.” He said, giddy over the fact everything would be official between you two as soon as you mate.
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mysticheathenn · 5 months ago
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Why Are You Still Single?
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is for my Patreon All Tiers. This pick-a-card reading is all about why you are not in a relationship and how to invite more love into your life.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
Extended Patreon Includes:
How can I invite more love in?
Extra Messages (If applicable)
MasterList
Patreon Link
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Pile l:
Why are you still single? Tarot: The Magician, The Empress, The Star, 8 of Cups, 6 of Swords (reversed), 5 of Swords
You don't see the beauty in yourself pile l. You are always giving away your power to someone else who does not see the beauty in you and you use their lack of love not only for others and themselves but their lack of love for you as facts to tell you about yourself. Who you are? If you are beautiful, kind, or generous? Are you worthy of love? Some of you most likely have dealt with abusive relationships or narcissistic people. This could be mental, physical, or emotional abuse, and could also be family and not a romantic relationship who like to tell you that you aren't good enough. Either way, for some strange reason you don't know how to release the same stories you keep entertaining from others and yourself. It's as if you have given up on yourself and refuse to see anything good about you because of your past history. You are the star. You are the Empress, pile l. You are loving, giving, kind, abundant, and beautiful. You do not need permission from others to exist or to feel worthy of anything or loved. Why must you torture yourself with the same stories that have led you nowhere but with depression, anxiety, and self-doubt? Look in the mirror and do affirmations about the kind of person you truly believe you are or if you still can't see what kind of person you are say affirmations about the kind of person you wish you could be. You don't need to believe it at first, and it may feel silly but it will help you look in the mirror and see what those with kind and beautiful hearts see when they look at you. Patreon Link
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Pile ll:
Why are you still single? Tarot: The Tower, 6 of Cups, 4 of Swords (reversed), The Emperor (reversed), 9 of Wands
This is for some of you but you may have grown up in a household where your dad or a father figure wasn't around. If he was around he wasn't the best example of what you should look for in a partner and it has led you to carry beliefs that may hold some truths but in reality, most of it is just a way to keep you safe from getting hurt romantically. For others of you, these beliefs have led you down a path where you have had nothing but hardship in your dating life. Some people may have called you picky, unrealistic, or even called you the crazy one for not allowing people to play in your face. But some of you cut people out of your life just for breathing wrong and that is somewhat part of the problem. You are so concerned about not getting hurt or having people play in your face that you don't give people a chance to show who they really are. You take any and everything you see whether from social media, friends past relationships, or what you feel is intuition when really it's paranoia as a red flag. People are human and are allowed to make mistakes and it's okay to make a mistake here or there. I can already hear some of you say "Well they can make a mistake over there because over here you come correct." Here's the thing pile ll if someone isn't consistent with their words matching their actions it's to the left to the left, but if someone forgets to call but has done nothing wrong beforehand (meaning they are consistent but this one time forgets) that isn't a red flag nor does it always mean things are going downhill from there. It's okay to give people grace and still hold your standards and not deal with heartbreak or your time being wasted. It's called communication and not seeing everything that is more anxiety and paranoia as a sign of intuition. Patreon Link
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Pile lll:
Why are you still single? Tarot: 5 of Wands (reversed), 4 of Cups (reversed), 2 of Pentacles, 5 of Swords, 10 of Wands (reversed)
You're not really looking for anything pile lll. I am hearing the quote "You're not in competition with other suitors. You're in competition with my peace. Does your presence make me not want to be single anymore? What do you bring to the table?" I hear that pile lll and I stand with you in this decision. When and if you are looking for someone you are looking for someone who can bring balance to your life and not chaos, stress, and drama. You want someone who can bring things to the relationship that you either can not bring on your own or help provide peace and stabilize it as well. You don't want to bring just anyone to your table just for the sake of not being alone and loneliness. People need to offer some sort of significance to you for you to give anyone the time of day let alone look their way. For some of you, you're questioning if this is the right decision. You may have been single or even celibate for a while now and I am confirming to you to stay strong and hold out for that person who offers you what you deserve in a relationship. You will be fine and there is someone out there who will see your requirements as "That's all while others told you, you were asking for too much." You have gone through too much and did so much work on yourself to get to the level of peace that you are experiencing in your life to second guess yourself or lower your standards just to appease others or have someone in your life. Remember "You would rather adjust your life to the absence of someone than lower yours to appease disrespect." That is exactly what you will be allowing in your life if you lower your standards now. You will also be disrespecting yourself in the process too. Patreon Link
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Pile lV:
Why are you still single? Tarot: The Moon, 4 of Pentacles, The Hermit, The Chariot, The Star (reversed)
Pile lV you may have been somewhat drawn to pile l but not completely drawn to it. This energy somewhat mirrors them but instead of you giving away your power to others and letting them tell you about your worth. Your pile is if pile l decided to do the work it takes to not have that energy anymore. Most of you are single by choice and others of you are single because God (universe, Allah, source, etc) has placed you in solitude so you can focus on yourself. There is something that you are being called to do pile lV. You are on your path of walking into your purpose. If not your purpose you are walking into a path that aligns more with where you need and should be in life whether it's something you have been desiring and it requires isolation from you or something spirit has said you need but you are confused as to what that is. Either way during this time you are doing the work that it takes to bring in this new love for you. Some of you may be doing shadow work with the Moon card here. You are working on the parts of yourself that you find either unattractive, unlovable, or even toxic for some of you. This doesn't have to be physical a lot of the work I am seeing for you have to deal with emotional and mental health and for a few of you this could be you working out and becoming a healthier version of yourself. You are wanting to come out on top unrecognizable with the star card in reverse. You want to operate as your highest self and to bring in healthy and loving relationships that match the frequency you are trying to attain. I'm hearing Hot GIrl Summer, That Girl, etc anything where you are doing something with yourself instead of falling into victim mentality or even allowing your thoughts to deceive you into thinking you are unworthy of a beautiful life or relationship. Patreon Link
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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satellite-evans · 5 months ago
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Familiar Echoes
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: When Y/N, the daughter of the duke of Ashbourne returns to Aubrey Hall, old feelings resurface between her and Benedict Bridgerton, sparking tension and intrigue. As they navigate past misunderstandings with the support of their families, they must confront their emotions and decide if their childhood bond can evolve into something more.
Word count: 4.7k words
Warnings: fluff, a little angst, mention of nude models, childhood friends, misunderstanding
A/N:
Hi everyone, this is my first Benedict fic so I am very excited, hope you guys will like it :)
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The sun cast a warm, golden glow over Aubrey Hall, its rays filtering through the trees and illuminating the vibrant gardens where the Bridgerton children played. Benedict Bridgerton, with his dark curls and inquisitive eyes, was only ten years old, yet he was already showing signs of the artistic and passionate young man he would become.
In the gardens, Benedict was engrossed in a spirited game of hide-and-seek with his siblings and their dear friends, the Y/L/Ns. The daughter of the Duke of Ashbourne, Y/N, was Benedict’s favorite playmate. Her laughter was his favorite and her eyes mirrored something so beautiful, so pure.
Benedict, you’ll never find me!” Y/N called out, her voice echoing through the hedges.
He grinned, determined to prove his best friend wrong. They had spent countless afternoons exploring the grounds, creating imaginary worlds, and sharing secrets that only they understood.
Finally, he spotted her hiding behind a rosebush. “Got you!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and twirling her around.
She laughed, her joy infectious. “You always find me, Benedict.”
He smiled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll always find you, Y/N.”
But the idyllic days of childhood were not to last. That evening, over dinner, the Duke of Ashbourne announced that his family would be leaving London for an extended stay in Italy. The news hit Benedict like a blow, and he struggled to hide his disappointment. He looked over at his friend and saw those same pure eyes filling up with tears. It broke his tiny heart into pieces.
“Leave London? Whatever for?”
Benedict was thrilled that his mother asked because he desperately needed to know why they had to leave.
“We have decided it is time to show our children the world. My father took me on similar journeys when I was their age, and those experiences were invaluable. I want Thomas and Y/N to have the same opportunities—to see different places, learn new things, and broaden their horizons.”
Your mother nodded in agreement, her expression resolute. “We believe it will be good for their education. There’s so much to learn beyond the walls of London, and we want to give them a chance to explore and grow in ways they cannot here.”
Violet glanced at the Viscount, her husband Edmund, who had been listening quietly. He smiled and nodded, understanding the importance of such a decision. “I agree with you, William,” he said to your father. “Traveling and experiencing different cultures can provide a wealth of knowledge and perspective that one simply cannot gain from books alone.”
Thomas, your older brother, seemed very excited about the upcoming adventure.
But Y/N did not.
She was thinking all about how terribly she was going to miss her dear friend Benedict and how awful it was going to be, not to be in his presence all the time.
After dinner, Benedict found Y/N in the music room, softly playing the pianoforte. He approached her, his heart heavy.
“Why do you have to go?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with sadness. “Father believes it’s for the best. He wants us to experience life. He also mentioned that we will also visit Greece and many more."
“But what about us? What about our adventures?” Benedict’s voice cracked with emotion.
She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “We’ll always have our memories, Benedict. And we’ll see each other again. I promise.”
Benedict squeezed her hand, trying to hold back tears. “Promise?”
“Promise,” she echoed, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes.
After staying a few more days at Aubrey Hall, the Y/L/N family departed, leaving a void in Benedict’s heart. As their carriage disappeared down the long driveway, he stood beside his father, Edmund Bridgerton, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Time will pass quickly, my boy,” Edmund said gently. “And you’ll see her again before you know it.”
Benedict nodded, but the ache in his heart remained. Little did he know, their next meeting would be years away, and the feelings he harbored would only grow stronger with time.
Years had passed since the Y/L/N family’s departure, and Benedict had grown into a handsome and talented young man. He pursued his passion for art with fervor, yet a part of him always yearned for the companionship he had once shared with Y/N.
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The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden glow over Aubrey Hall, when Lady Violet Bridgerton received the letter. She was seated in the drawing room with her children, each engaged in their own activities. Anthony was reviewing estate documents, Colin was reading a book, Eloise was writing furiously in her notebook, and the younger ones were playing a game by the fireplace.
"Everyone," Lady Violet called, her voice filled with excitement. "I have just received the most wonderful news."
The Bridgerton children looked up, curiosity piqued.
"What is it, Mother?" Anthony asked, setting aside his papers.
Lady Violet grinned. "We are to have guests. The Duke and Duchess of Ashbourne, along with their children, are coming to visit."
A chorus of reactions followed. Eloise raised an eyebrow. "The Ashbournes? Weren't they the family that moved away to travel the world?"
"Yes, indeed," Lady Violet confirmed. "The duke was a dear friend of your father. They moved away years ago, but they have decided to return for a time."
"Does this mean we’ll get to see Thomas again?" Colin asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I always liked him."
"And Y/N," Daphne added, her eyes twinkling. "I remember she was always so talented in the pianoforte and the harp."
Benedict remained silent, a slight blush creeping up his neck. He hoped no one would notice, but of course, Anthony did.
"Well, well, Benedict," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It looks like your childhood crush will be reunited with you," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Benedict tried to maintain his composure. "Don't be ridiculous, Anthony. That was ages ago."
Colin chimed in, unable to resist the opportunity to tease his brother. "Oh, come on, Benedict. We all remember how you used to follow her around like a lost puppy."
Eloise snickered. "And how you would turn bright red whenever she spoke to you."
Benedict sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "I was a child. We’ve all grown up since then."
"Perhaps," Anthony said, leaning back in his chair. "But it will be interesting to see how things play out now that you’re both adults."
Lady Violet intervened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Enough teasing, boys. Let us make sure everything is ready for their arrival. They will be here in a few days, and I want everything to be perfect."
As the family dispersed to prepare for their guests, the three Bridgerton brothers found themselves alone in the study.
Anthony leaned against the desk, his expression thoughtful. "It will be good to see Thomas again. He was always a good friend."
Colin nodded. "I heard he’s become quite the gentleman. And he was always supportive of Y/N’s education and talents. Not like most men of our time."
"True," Anthony agreed. "Thomas was never one to adhere strictly to societal norms. He always did what he thought was right."
Benedict, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "I wonder how much Y/N has changed. She was always so passionate about music and poetry."
Colin grinned. "Still thinking about her, eh? You know, Anthony and I used to place bets on when you would finally tell her how you felt."
Benedict rolled his eyes. "You’re never going to let this go, are you?"
Anthony laughed. "Not a chance. But in all seriousness, Benedict, it will be good to see them again. And who knows? Maybe this visit will bring about some unexpected surprises."
Benedict sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. "Maybe."
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Y/N stood by her bedroom window, looking out at the rolling hills of their estate as the sun began its slow descent. She was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension about their imminent departure to Aubrey Hall. The Bridgertons had always held a special place in her heart, especially Benedict, but years and distance had complicated those feelings.
"Are you ready, Y/N?" Thomas's voice called from the hallway.
Y/N turned away from the window and smiled as her brother entered the room. "Almost. Just gathering my thoughts."
Thomas gave her a knowing look. "Excited to see the Bridgertons again?"
"Of course," Y/N replied, smoothing down her dress. "It's been too long."
Thomas leaned against the doorframe, his expression thoughtful. "You know, Anthony mentioned in his letters that Benedict has been quite busy at the Royal Academy. Apparently, the place is famous for its...nude models."
Y/N's hand froze mid-air, her heart skipping a beat. "Nude models?"
Thomas nodded, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Yes, it seems our dear Benedict has been immersing himself in all aspects of art. Anthony said in his letter something about him knocking over an easel while staring at a rather attractive model. Everyone had a good laugh. Quite the scandal, isn't it?"
Y/N's cheeks flushed as she tried to mask her reaction. "It's part of his training, I'm sure. Nothing more."
Thomas watched her carefully, his smirk growing. "You’re right. Still, it's interesting, don’t you think?"
Y/N forced a smile. "What’s your point, Thomas?"
"My point," he said, stepping closer, "is that you seem unusually interested in Benedict’s artistic pursuits."
Y/N met her brother’s gaze firmly. "I’m interested in all my friends' pursuits. Nothing unusual about that."
Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Very well. But remember, Y/N, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when something—or someone—is on your mind."
Y/N lifted her chin. "And I can assure you, Thomas, that my mind is perfectly clear."
"Fine, fine," Thomas said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find me."
Y/N nodded, grateful for her brother's support, even if she wasn’t ready to share her feelings. "Thank you, Thomas. Now, let’s focus on the journey ahead."
"Agreed," Thomas said, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
Y/N took his arm, and they made their way downstairs where their parents were waiting. As they stepped outside, she felt excited about the days to come. But also jealousy, which she never felt before in her life. She knew that it was none of her business what Benedict did or did not do. Nevertheless, she could not help herself feeling this way.
The journey to Aubrey Hall was filled with excitement and nostalgia. As their carriage approached the estate, memories of their childhood flooded Y/N’s mind. She felt a mix of eagerness and nervousness, wondering how much had changed. Still, there was a feeling Y/N couldn't shake away. The things that her brother told her about Benedict still haunted her. Benedict changed, she knew that for certain, but she really hoped that his feelings did not.
" It feels so strange to be back again," Thomas said, making Y/N turn to him. "It is like we have never left."
Her father nodded. "I get what you mean. It was like yesterday when you and Benedict were chasing Y/N and Daphne in the garden while Edmund and I were watching with a smile on our faces."
After mentioning the late Viscount, the eyes of your father started to fill with tears. He was in shock when the news came that Edmund passed away. It took him a few months to process the tragic loss of his closest friend. Y/N could not even imagine what Benedict went through.
"We all miss him terribly," your mother said, taking her husband's hand in hers. "But there is no need to sadden ourselves with the past. You will get to see Anthony as the new viscount. I'm sure he fitted the title well."
Your father smiled at his wife and kissed her hand. She always knew how to lift her spirits.
"Just like how Thomas will fit the title of the duke of Ashbourne well." Thomas rolled his eyes while Y/N and her parents started laughing.
"Believe me, father, that it will be years before I will get the title. You will live a long life with mama and your children and grandchildren by your side."
the funny banter between the Ashbourne family was not something new. They always have differed from the rest of the ton. There was no marriage pressure. The duke and duchess put the education of their children first, wanting nothing but happiness for them.
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"Look, they have arrived!"
The Ashbourne carriage rolled to a stop in front of Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton family waiting outside to greet their guests. The air was filled with anticipation and a touch of nostalgia as the two families prepared to reunite after so many years.
Lady Violet stepped forward with a warm smile. "Welcome, welcome!"
The Duke of Ashbourne, a distinguished gentleman with a friendly demeanor, was the first to step out, helping his elegant wife, the Duchess of Ashbourne, out of the carriage. Following them were Thomas and Y/N, who looked around with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
"It’s wonderful to see you, Violet," the Duke said, embracing Lady Violet. "Thank you for having us."
"The pleasure is all ours," Lady Violet replied. "We’ve missed you terribly."
As the Ashbournes stepped out of the carriage, the Bridgerton children moved forward to greet them. Anthony, Colin, and Benedict engulfed Thomas in a warm embrace.
"Thomas, it’s been far too long," Anthony said, clapping him on the back.
"Indeed," Thomas replied, smiling. "It’s good to see you all."
Y/N followed, greeting each Bridgerton sibling with a warm smile and a hug, her demeanor friendly and welcoming. However, when she reached Benedict, her expression changed. She gave him a polite nod; her smile barely reaching her eyes.
When Benedict watched her getting out of the carriage, he only had one thought.
She is breathtakingly beautiful.
Her blonde hair changed into a darker shade of brown, but her eyes were the same. They were still mirroring such beauty he wished he could draw. Her smile was still contagious, affecting him immediately with his own.
" Mr Bridgerton, it is good to see you. How have you been?"
Mr Bridgerton? Why was she so formal suddenly? Was she not as excited to see him as he was seeing her?
"Miss Y/L/N, It is great to see you too. I am well, thank you for asking, been quite busy with my paintings."
Y/N’s gaze turned icy. "So I’ve heard." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked straight inside, leaving Benedict standing there, bewildered.
As Benedict watched her retreating figure, he felt a pang of hurt and confusion. He glanced towards Thomas, who was already looking at him with a knowing look, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Sensing the tension in the air, Thomas was the first to speak. "Well, it is rather chilly out here. Let’s all follow my dear sister inside, shall we?"
The group laughed, the tension easing slightly as they followed Thomas into the grand entrance hall of Aubrey Hall.
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As they made their way inside, the tension between Y/N and Benedict did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family. Lady Violet exchanged a concerned glance with the duchess while Anthony observed the interaction with a furrowed brow.
Once inside, they were led to the grand dining room, where a sumptuous feast awaited them. The grand dining room at Aubrey Hall was resplendent with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the elegantly set table.
The Duke of Ashbourne, seated beside Lord Anthony Bridgerton, raised his glass. “To old friends and new beginnings,” he toasted, his voice rich and warm.
The toast was met with a chorus of agreement and the clinking of glasses. As the first course was served, Lady Violet began the conversation. “William, Eleanor, how has your journey been so far? Any memorable adventures?”
Eleanor smiled, glancing at her children. “It’s been a wonderful experience. We’ve seen so many beautiful places, and the children have learned a great deal.”
“Indeed,” the Duke added. “Thomas and Y/N have taken to it splendidly. Y/N, in particular, has been quite inspired by the landscapes for her poetry.”
Lady Violet’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Poetry, Y/N? That’s marvelous. You must share some with us later.”
Y/N smiled politely. “Of course, my lady. I’d be happy to.”
As the conversation flowed, it eventually turned to the Bridgerton siblings. “Benedict,” the Duke said, turning his attention to the second eldest Bridgerton, “I hear you’ve made quite a name for yourself at the Academy.”
Benedict, who had been quietly observing Y/N, nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve been fortunate to study under some very talented artists.”
Y/N, unable to suppress her irritation, interjected with a cool tone. “Including some very talented models, I’ve heard.”
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Benedict’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Yes, we do work with models. It’s a necessary part of our training.”
The duchess, sensing the awkwardness, tried to steer the conversation back on track. “I’m sure the experience has been invaluable, Benedict. Art requires such dedication.”
Benedict nodded, but his eyes remained on Y/N. “It has been invaluable. Every aspect of it contributes to our growth as artists.”
Thomas, ever the peacemaker, chimed in. “Anthony told us about some of your work. It sounds quite impressive.”
Y/N’s lips curled into a tight smile. “Yes, very impressive. Especially the part where you managed to knock over an easel. Quite the spectacle, I hear.”
Benedict’s jaw tightened, and he glanced around the table, noting the concerned expressions of his family. “It was a mistake. One that was quickly rectified.”
Colin, trying to lighten the mood, laughed. “Well, Benedict has always had a flair for the dramatic.”
Eloise nudged her brother. “Perhaps a bit too much flair, at times.”
Laughter rippled around the table, but the underlying tension remained. Y/N felt a pang of guilt but was too stubborn to relent. She glanced at her brother, who gave her a pointed look, silently urging her to ease up.
Lady Violet, ever the gracious hostess, smoothly transitioned the conversation to more neutral topics, asking about the sights the Ashbourne family had visited and their future plans. The dinner continued, but the strained interactions between Y/N and Benedict cast a shadow over the evening.
As dessert was served, Lady Violet addressed Y/N directly. “Y/N, my dear, I’ve heard you play the pianoforte beautifully. Would you grace us with a performance after dinner?”
Y/N, grateful for the distraction, nodded. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”
The meal concluded with polite conversation, but the tension lingered. Y/N excused herself to prepare for her performance, and as she left the dining room, she felt Benedict’s gaze on her, filled with a mix of hurt and confusion.
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Later that evening, Y/N sat at the grand pianoforte in the drawing room, her fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. Heart filled with the hauntingly beautiful melody of a piece, she knew the room—Benedict's favorite.
The Bridgertons and Y/L/N's watched in silent admiration, but Benedict’s eyes never left Y/N. He was captivated, every note and every word pulling him deeper into the memories of their shared past. As the song drew to a close, Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and as the last note lingered in the air, a single tear slipped down her cheek. Across the room, Benedict’s own eyes misted over, a tear tracing a path down his face as well. The rest of the family exchanged knowing glances, sensing the intense, unspoken connection between the two.
Y/N stood, curtsied, and, with a polite smile, excused herself from the room, needing a moment alone to compose herself. As she walked down the dimly lit hallway, her heart ached with a mixture of regret and confusion.
Benedict, unable to bear the distance and misunderstanding any longer, quietly followed her into a room. “Y/N, wait,” he called softly.
She stopped but didn’t turn around, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Yes, Benedict?” Her voice was calm but strained.
He approached her cautiously, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Why are you treating me like this? What have I done to deserve your coldness?”
Y/N finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Benedict. I’ve been perfectly polite.”
Benedict shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been distant, cold. This isn’t like you. Please, tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it."
She crossed her arms defensively, her gaze piercing. “I don’t know what you’re imagining, but there’s nothing wrong. Perhaps you’re just seeing what you want to see.”
His frustration bubbled over, and he stepped closer, his voice low and intense. “This isn’t about what I want to see, Y/N. This is about what’s real. You’ve changed towards me, and I need to know why.”
She took a step back, her breath hitching. “It doesn’t matter, Benedict. Go back to your paintings and models. I could not care less."
His frustration turned to desperation, Benedict reached out and gently but firmly grasped her arm, pulling her back towards him. They stood face to face, the tension between them crackling with electricity. His voice was a murmur, filled with desperate longing. “But you do care, don't you? Why do you care, Y/N? Tell me.”
Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze making her heart race. She tried to look away, but he cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Y/N. Please.”
Her defenses crumbled, and she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t care. Why should I? What you do is your own concern.”
His grip on her arm tightened slightly, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in closer. “You do care. I can see it in your eyes. In your big beautiful eyes. Why won’t you admit it?”
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling with the effort of holding back her emotions. “Because it’s easier not to. Because admitting it means facing the truth.”
“What truth?” Benedict’s voice was a mere breath away, his lips inches from hers.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could no longer deny the truth to herself or to him. “That I never stopped caring about you, Benedict. That I’ve loved you since we were children, and the thought of you with someone else… it breaks my heart.”
His eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. “And I’ve loved you, Y/N. I’ve loved you every single day we’ve been apart.”
She closed her eyes, the tears finally spilling over. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I was a fool,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. But I can’t keep it inside any longer.”
Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world seemed to fade away as they poured all their longing and love into that one moment, finally allowing themselves to feel what they had denied for so long.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. “No more secrets,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky but filled with hope.
“No more secrets,” Benedict promised, his eyes shining with love and determination.
They stood there for a moment, holding each other, the weight of their confessions lifting from their shoulders. The tension that had once filled the air was replaced with a sense of peace and newfound understanding.
Just then, a voice broke the silence. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
Y/N and Benedict sprang apart, startled, as Thomas stepped into the hallway. His expression was serious, his eyes locked on Benedict. Y/N's heart raced, fearing her brother's reaction.
"Thomas, I—" Y/N began, but Thomas held up a hand to silence her.
"I always knew I’d have to deal with this day," Thomas said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned his gaze to Benedict, who stood his ground, though a hint of apprehension flickered in his eyes. "Benedict Bridgerton, you have compromised my sister's honor. There’s only one way to settle this."
Y/N’s eyes widened in fear. "Thomas, please, don’t—"
Thomas continued, a stern look on his face. "We must duel."
The hallway fell silent, the tension thick in the air. Then, to Y/N's utter astonishment, Thomas’s serious expression broke into a wide grin, and he burst out laughing.
"I’m just kidding!" he exclaimed, clapping Benedict on the shoulder. "You should have seen your faces!"
Benedict let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. "Thomas, you nearly gave us both a heart attack."
Y/N exhaled deeply, her heart still pounding. "Thomas, that wasn’t funny!"
"It was a little funny," Thomas said, still chuckling. "But really, everyone in the drawing room is waiting for you two. They’ve been hoping for this day for a long time."
Y/N and Benedict exchanged a glance, their relief mingled with the lingering rush of adrenaline.
Thomas gestured back towards the drawing room. "Come on, let’s not keep them waiting."
As they re-entered the room, the gathered family turned to look at them. Lady Violet and the duchess’s faces lit up with delight, and Daphne’s eyes sparkled with joy. The Duke of Ashbourne stood beside Lady Eleanor, his expression warm and approving. Anthony, Colin, Eloise, Gregory, and Hyacinth were also present, each showing various degrees of amusement and happiness.
"There you are!" Lady Violet said, her smile warm and knowing. "We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost."
"Come on," Colin said, grinning broadly. "Don't keep us waiting. Are you finally together or not?"
Y/N's cheeks flushed as she glanced at Benedict, who nodded, smiling. "Yes, we are," she said, her voice clear and steady.
Lady Eleanor’s face lit up even more. "Well, then, I think it’s safe to say we can start planning a wedding."
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "Mama, it’s way too soon for that!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing even deeper.
The Duke of Ashbourne chuckled, patting Y/N's shoulder gently. "Your mother is just excited, dear. But we should let the young couple take their time."
Colin and Anthony, standing near the fireplace, exchanged a look and grinned. "Well, Benedict, looks like you’ve finally caught the eye of a Duke’s daughter," Colin teased.
"Always aiming high, aren’t you, brother?" Anthony added, his tone playful.
Benedict, his arm still around Y/N, beamed. "I guess I’ve always known what I wanted."
Daphne approached Y/N, embracing her warmly. "Welcome to the family, officially."
Y/N’s heart swelled with happiness. "Thank you, Daphne. I’m so glad to be here."
Eloise, ever the sharp-witted observer, smirked. "Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to think you two would never figure it out."
Gregory and Hyacinth, the youngest Bridgerton's, clapped excitedly. "Does this mean we get to have another party?" Gregory asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.
Hyacinth grinned. "I hope so! I love weddings!"
As the evening continued, the family celebrated the long-awaited union. Lady Violet and Lady Eleanor eagerly discussed wedding plans, while the Bridgerton brothers teased Benedict good-naturedly.
Thomas, watching the scene with a satisfied smile, caught Y/N’s eye and gave her an encouraging nod. She smiled back, her heart full.
Later, as the festivities wound down, Y/N and Benedict found a quiet moment together. He took her hand, his eyes full of love. "I meant every word I said earlier, Y/N. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
She looked up at him, her heart brimming with emotion. "And I love you, Benedict. More than I can say."
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "Let's always be together. Always."
"Agreed," she whispered, feeling the weight of the past lift away.
As they stood there, surrounded by family and love, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful future together.
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410 notes · View notes
harunayuuka2060 · 9 months ago
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Ruggie: Yo, MC! Long time no see! *feeling a bit nervous*
MC: *looking sternly at him* It's been a while, Ruggie.
Ruggie: So... Is that Prince Liora? Gosh. He does really look like Leona.
Baby Liora: *smiles at Ruggie*
MC: I assume that Falena sent you here to ask for my permission?
Ruggie: Whew! You just saved me time by saying it! Shishishi!
MC: ...
MC: Hm. Liora is too young to be sent alone to Sunset Savannah.
MC: Drag Leona with you and make sure to return my son to me.
Ruggie: Eh? Are you not going?
MC: Why would I do that?
Ruggie: Er... You're the one who gave birth to Prince Liora.
Ruggie: I think it wouldn't be fair to leave you here.
MC: Are you asking me to go back to that place so I could hear the rumors about how I cheated on Leona and the sudden birth of Liora?
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Those cheating rumors have already stopped. Though, yeah, you might be right about the latter.
Ruggie: However, *grins* isn't Prince Liora's face enough evidence that Leona is the dad?
MC: ...
MC: *smiles*
Ruggie: Did I succeed in convincing you?
MC: Yes.
Ruggie: *sigh* I wish Leona was as talented as me when it comes to situations like this. Seriously, what has he been doing?
Leona: *standing behind him* Taking care of my baby.
Ruggie: Gah! L-Leona?
MC: I hate to admit it, but he has been sleep-deprived because of Liora.
Ruggie: Oh...
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: BWAHAHAHAHA!
Kalim: Really?! You're going back to Sunset Savannah?!
MC: Yes, my lord. But worry not, I'll make sure to return-
Kalim: It's okay if you don't come back for a year! Or even two years!
Kalim: Or even three years-
Jamil: Kalim.
MC: ...
MC: Are you subtly dismissing me from service, my lord?
Kalim: Nononono! Of course not! I just want you to enjoy your time with your family!
MC: ...
MC: As I was saying, I would be sure to be back.
Cheka: Mama! Papa! MC, Unca, and Lili will be arriving here at the Royal Palace! Yay!!!!
Falena and his wife: *lets out a sigh of relief*
Falena: It was a good thing that we sent Ruggie to convince MC.
His wife: *nods*
Cheka: Papa! Papa! Let me welcome them at the entrance!
Falena: Go ahead, Cheka.
Baby Liora: *giggles at everything he sees*
MC: ...
MC: You look stupid right now, Leona.
Leona: *who refused to let Ruggie carry their stuff*
Leona: Tch. Leave me be.
Ruggie: Yeah. Shishishi! He just wants to show that you can depend on him.
Leona: Quiet.
"MC?!!"
Ruggie: Eh? Who is that- *turns to look behind them*
MC's sister: YOU'RE BACK?!!
MC: ...
MC: Ruggie, continue walking.
Ruggie: Oh, right. Sorry-
MC's sister: Don't you ignore me! You said you would never come back!
MC's sister: And I'm just on my way to the Royal Palace because father sent me to become Prince Leona's bride!
Leona: THE HELL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT?!
MC's sister: P-Prince Leona?
MC: ...
MC: Huh. Congratulations to both of you then. *hands Baby Liora to Ruggie and gets their stuff from Leona*
Leona: What-
MC: Follow us when you're done. *then walks away*
Ruggie: *tries to avoid getting in trouble, immediately follows after them*
Leona: ...
Leona: I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THIS! HEY!
MC's sister: P-Prince Leona-
Leona: Shut up! I'm a married man! *runs after MC*
MC's sister: ...
MC's sister: *yells* I WILL TELL FATHER ABOUT THIS!
877 notes · View notes
ninii-winchester · 3 months ago
Text
Timeless Love
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Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader
Word count : 3.7k
Warnings : angst, s12 ep 6 (spoilers), canon violence, mentions of demons, slight mention of john winchester, mentions of amara (slight spoiler), taylor swift reference (?), fluff. Not proofread.
Part 2 to Fleeting Love.
A/n: I don’t remember what exactly happened in that episode i just winged it.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Leaving was the hardest thing Dean had to do other than breaking Y/n's heart. He cried himself to sleep every night after seeing her looking like a shell of herself at school. He missed her smile and he missed being the reason of her smile. How could he let himself fall for someone, when he knew he could never have that kind of life. Loving her was the best and the worst decision of his life. Best because he got to know what love actually feels like and worst because he knows he'd never find anything like that ever again. He wouldn't allow himself to love anyone else in this lifetime. She was his first and last love.
Dean had left town, and Y/n was still picking up the pieces of a shattered heart. Days turned into weeks, but the ache never dulled. Every time she walked by the places they'd shared—her favorite diner, the lakeside road where they'd stargazed—the memories rushed in like a flood. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outrun the ghost of him.
As much as she wanted to hate him, part of her would always him. He was her first love, her first kiss and her first time. Deep down she knew it had everything to do with his father but his betrayal was still fresh in her mind. She knew her Dean wouldn't do that her but she wished he'd stood against his father. She wished he would've fought for their love. If only she knew the reason he couldn't do it.
Fifteen years had come and gone, and Y/n had built a life—one filled with new memories, a different kind of happiness. But despite the time and distance, her heart remained anchored to a love she never truly let go of. It wasn't that she was stuck in the past; she had moved on in every way that mattered. Yet, in the quiet moments, when the world fell still, it was Dean's face she saw, his voice she heard, as if time had never touched the feelings she carried for him.
Y/n let out a sigh as she waited for her flight to be announced. She was going to Canada for a wake of the man who saved her life. She vividly remembered six years ago, she was coming back from work and a huge dog like creature attacked her. She wouldn't have believed had she not seen it with her own eyes. It was a werewolf.
She dug into the supernatural, surprised by the sheer amount of lore tied to what was already known. Myths, legends, and creatures she once thought were just stories had entire histories woven into the fabric of the world she knew.
Asa Fox was the one that killed the thing and rescued her. Now he was no more. She owed it him to atleast pay her final respects to him.
Hours later she landed in Canada and made her way towards Asa's mother's house. It was late at night when she arrived. She stepped inside and noticed a small crowd gathered in the living room, while others lingered in the kitchen and a few more were out in the backyard. They were all lost in conversation, sharing memories and stories of the brave hunter they had come together to mourn. The air was heavy with both grief and respect as they honored the life he'd lived.
She'd found Asa's mother and paid her condolences to her, recounting how her son had saved her life and how she looked up to him. The older woman nodded and Y/n took it as her cue to leave her alone. She walked the hallway and bumped into someone, she quickly apologised and looked up to them and all the air seemed to leave her lungs.
"You.." she choked on her words and the other person looked at her in mild confusion and threw her an anticipatory glance. "Mary Winchester." Y/n finally spoke. The older woman tried to rack her brain if she knew the woman infront of her but her mind remained blank.
Y/n had seen photos of Dean's mother in his room also in his wallet and she adored how much he loved his mother. Her mind went haywire thinking back to when he told her his mother died in a house fire. Did he lie? Why would he though? Thousands of thoughts ran into her mind as she thought back to her relationship with the Winchester. Even after fifteen years he's still vivid in her head. Did everything he tell her was a lie? Was Dean even his real name.
Y/n could feel herself hyperventilate and she immediately wanted to put space between the supposedly dead woman and herself. She went to the kitchen to grab herself some water. There were only two people in the kitchen, a woman with a pixie cut and a man taller than anyone she had ever seen. She grabbed a water bottle chugging it down and calming her heartbeat. She took a deep breath before speaking,
"Uhm sorry to intrude but, is a Mary Winchester out there?" She questioned the couple gesturing towards the hallway she came from. The man looked at her with a unreadable look in his eyes.
"Yeah." The woman responded.
Y/n sighed, — atleast I'm not going crazy. She thought to herself. But if that's Dean's mom, what on earth is she doing here?
"You're Y/n." The man said. It wasn't a question. He knew her. She craned her neck to look up at his face and she furrowed her brows.
"I'm sorry have we met before?" She questioned taking a step forward. A sad smile appeared on his face. The woman beside him looked at him expectantly waiting for his reply.
"You seriously don't remember me?" He chuckled and she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, but I'd remember if I had met someone as big as you." She replied leaning on the counter behind her.
"I wasn't this big when we met Y/n/n." Sam spoke and the nickname made her eyes flash with recognition but it was quickly overtaken by the hurt that came with those memories.
"Sammy." It just slipped out. She didn't mean to call him by that name, but when he called her y/n/n, it came out subconsciously. Her heart started beating loudly at the thought of his brother being here. She had never thought she'd ever meet Dean Winchester ever again and she was not ready.
Sam knew whatever happened between her and his brother hurt her more than anything and he wouldn't blame her if she up and left without a word, but he'd missed her. And he missed the man his brother was when he was with Y/n. After her, he was just a shell of a man, running on his father's commands like a soldier. Someone who seemed to let go off every emotion and just waiting for his father's next order.
Sam introduced Y/n to the woman beside him as sherrif Jody Mills and she was good friend.
"How're you Y/n?" Sam asked and she looked at him remembering the small kid she used help with homework.
"Been good. How about you?" Sam scoffed at her question. If only she knew how he's been. And how his brother's been. Coming back from the dead, hell, purgatory. She'd probably throw a chair at him for making up all this bullshit.
"Good yeah." Sam nodded. Y/n could hear footsteps approaching and prayed it wasn't who she thought it was. God knew she didn't want to see him. Maybe she hadn't been a good person, and this was her punishment, because Dean Winchester walked into the kitchen, her breath caught in her lungs.
"Sammy where the he-" Dean words got caught in his mouth as his gaze landed on her.
Y/n looked at the man she had loved and hoped that after all these years, she'd have fallen out of love with him. But one look and her heart started thudding against her ribcage. He had aged, but somehow, he was even more handsome. He was muscular now, his arms toned beneath his layers, and she could see it all. She could feel her eyes water and she didn't want to create a scene at someone's wake, she pushed past Sam and left the space with a word.
Dean stood frozen, he couldn't believe he'd run into her here of all places. The sight of her brought back a flood of memories and feelings he thought he had buried long ago. Despite the years and the changes, she was just as beautiful as he remembered. But then he wondered why was she here? Is she a relative? Does she know about the supernatural? Or worse is she a hunter?
He didn't know the answer to his questions but he knew one thing, that them meeting again after fifteen years was fate. And he'd be damned if he let go off her ever again. He'd do anything in his power to win her back because God knows he's been miserable since the minute he broke up with her. Without wasting another second Dean went behind her. He could see her going to the backyard and taking in deep breaths.
"Y/n." He said approaching her.
"Go away Dean.”
“Just hear me out once.” He pleaded.
“I don't want to hear any more of your lies." Her voice cracked as she spoke and Dean knew she was on the verge of crying.
"Lies? What lies?" He asked holding her arm and turning her to look at him. She shrugged her arm out of his grip and pulled away harshly.
"Maybe you have a bad memory Dean, fifteen years isn't that long of a time to forget about it." She snapped glaring at him. "Need I remind you of your lies? My mom died when I was four! She's inside I've seen her with my own eyes." She yelled. "I love you Y/n! And the very next day after breaking up with me I see you making out with some cheerleader. You don't do that to someone you love." She cried pushing at his chest. "You're a goddamn liar so leave me the fuck alone like you did that night at the park."
Each and every word pierced through him like a needle. It was worse than spending forty years in Hell. He knew he'd hurt her and deserved everything she threw his way, but hearing her think that he didn't love her—it just broke his heart. He never lied about his love for her.
"Y/n, baby please let me explain. I swear I'll tell you everything." He said holding her hand and she pushed him again.
"Don't touch me. And I don't need your explanations." She wiped her tears. "I'm not here for you I'm here for Asa." Dean felt a pang of jealousy at the late hunter's name and he wondered if they'd had something before he died. Is that why she's here. He completely forgot it's been fifteen years and there might be a possibility that she'd moved on. 
"How do you even know him?" He couldn't but ask. His jealousy getting the better of him.
"That is none of your concern." She retorted sharply.
"Sweetheart please hear me out." Dean begged and she moved to go back inside but the doors were locked.
"What the hell?" She tried turning the doorknob but it didn't budge. The two of them were locked out. Dean tried pushing the door but to no avail.
"Hello Dean." Dean turned to see Billie standing there and she was smirking almost evilly.
"Billie what are you doing here?" He asked the reaper. And she told him she's here to do what she does. She's here to take everyone who's inside. Dean asked her what's happening inside and she tells him a demon's got them locked inside and something about vengeance. He had to save Sam, his mom and Jody. Dean tells her to open the door for him and let him go inside, she makes him a deal to never interfere in the natural order of things and he agrees as long as she lets him inside.
"Dean what the hell is going on?" Y/n was now scared. Although she was well aware of supernatural theoretically but she was in no way prepared to fight. And demons? She didn't know those were real too.
"I'll explain later." Dean replied as calmly as possible. "Billie, I need you to keep her safe, please." Dean requested and the reaper raised her brow.
"Dean, I can either keep her safe or let you inside. I'm getting one thing out of this deal, and you're getting only one too." His jaw clenched at her words and he was internally cursing her for being a bitch.
"Fine. Get us in." He begrudgingly told the reaper and she created an opening in the door. Dean turned to Y/n and cupped her face in his large hands. "We're going in, but you gotta trust me, sweetheart. Stay by my side and I'll protect you." Y/n thought he was completely out his wits asking her to go inside a place where there's a demon.
"Time's of essence Dean." Billie commented and he glared at her. He held Y/n's hand and before she knew the two of them were inside. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Sam, Jody and his mom alive, and even the others. Sam filled him in how the demon had cut off the water supply and locked all the doors. Y/n was terrified of being locked in a house with a demon but Dean held her close to him. His hand gripping hers tightly.
They all gathered in the living room to make a devils trap to trap whoever the demon was possesing and to keep themselves safe, being inside it.
"Dean who was that outside?" Y/n questioned her voice a quiet whisper.
"That was Billie she's a reaper." Dean replied moving her into the devils trap. She looked at him wide eyed.
"A reaper? The one that takes souls?" She questioned and he nodded. "You're acquainted with a reaper? What the fuck?" Before either of them could say any further Jody accused Mary of being possessed since her was last one to come into the room.
Sam and Dean tensed at her accusation of their mom being possessed but then Mary stepped into the devil's trap and moved out proving she's not it. Then Jody started cackling evilly, saying that was clever of Mary. With a flick of her hand she wooshed the trap, then she started attacking everyone one by one taunting them. She threw the twins across the wall and then slammed Mary in the door. She moved her hand towards Y/n but Dean pushed her behind him and the demon made him fly in the wall. Y/n was left unguarded and demon closed in on her. Sam neared them but possessed Jody threw him in the cabinet.
Y/n screamed as the demon neared her she inched backwards, her body trembling with fear. Dean watched as Jody wrapped her hand around Y/n's neck, he got up on his feet and pushed Jody away from her, not too harshly to not hurt his friend's body. He wrapped his body over her, shielding her body with his' and Sam started chanting the incantation to exorcise the demon out of Jody. The twins joined them and then Mary finished it off sending the demon back to hell.
The lights flickered back on and everyone was relieved at last. Y/n clutched Dean's shirt in her hands and hid her face in his chest. "You're fine..it's gone." He rubbed her back soothingly. "Hey sweetheart, look at me." Dean made her pull away slightly and placed his fingers underneath her chin making her look at him. "You okay?" She shook her head, no.
An hour later, Y/n was wrapped up in Dean's jacket, his mind drifting off to the first time he'd lend her his jacket and how it was their new beginning. He wondered if it was a sign of their another new beginning together. She sat on the hood of the Impala and the boys stood in front of her.
"What. The. Hell. Was. That?" She looked at Sam and Dean, while Mary and Jody watched their interaction for afar. "I mean I know werewolves and Vampires but demons? Reapers?" Dean grabbed her hand and brushed his thumb over the back of her hand.
"How'd you know about Werewolves and Vampires?" Dean asked softly and she told him how she was attacked by a werewolf and Asa saved her. And she researched a bit about the supernatural and Dean nodded in understanding. He shot Sam a glance and younger understood and left them alone.
"Sweetheart, I'll explain everything and I'll tell you why I left. You see I'm a hunter, my parents were too. I've grown up in this life. My mom did die when I was four. A demon killed her. My dad wanted us to find that demon and kill him. When I met you, I forgot all about it. I wanted to be a normal boy, I did love you with everything I had." She looked up at his eyes and they were sincere, different from when he broke her heart. It wasn't like he was holding back, or hiding something. "My dad, he didn't want you to get involved or me to lose focus. He told me that I should break your heart so you can move on with you life." Dean explained.
"I did move on with my life Dean." He shut his eyes not wanting to see the look on her face when she tells him she found someone else. "But I couldn't love anyone else. You made me question my worth, because, fuck it I was in love. And fuck you Dean for I couldn't have us."
"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make you question your worth, hell I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, I just wanted to keep you safe, away from this life. You aren't even back in my life for less two hours and look at this mess. I don't even want to think of what harm I would've caused you if you'd been with me all those years." He looked apologetic. "As for my mom, God's sister brought her back."
"Who THE FUCK?" She looked dumbfounded.
"It's long story." Dean chuckled. "All I'm saying is I've loved you this whole time and I only broke up with you because I didn't want you be in danger and because my dad said it was for the best." He rubbed the back of his head, half ashamed.
"Where's your dad?" She asked after few minutes of silence.
"He died, a few years ago." Dean replied gloomily.
"I'm sorry." Even if the man was the reason for her heartbreak she didn't feel good about him being dead. After all he was Dean's father. Dean nodded. "What now?"
"We could try again, that is if you want to. I'm tired of not being with you. I feel meeting you again after all these years, it's fate." Dean said softly. "And I still love you so fucking much." He rested his forehead against her.
"I still love you too, Dean." She whispered. The tension between them hangs in the air, heavy and charged. Without another word, Dean cups Y/N's face, his thumb gently brushing their cheek. There's a moment of hesitation, a breath, and then he leans in, capturing their lips in a passionate kiss.
The kiss is deep, intense, filled with all the unspoken emotions they've both been holding back. Dean pulls Y/N closer, as if trying to convey everything he couldn't say in words. For that moment, it's just the two of them, lost in the heat of the kiss. When they finally pull back, both breathless, Dean's forehead rests against Y/N's, his eyes still closed.
"Being away from you was worse than going to hell."
"As if you'd know what hell’s like." She replied rolling her eyes. Dean pulled away, his eyes filled with mischief.
"Oh I do, I went to hell, i was there for forty years."
"You're lying." She gave him a look and he shook his head.
"I'm not. I went to hell and then Castiel the angel pulled me out. Who by the way is now my best friend."
"SAMMY? HE'S LYING ISN'T HE??" She yelled to the younger Winchester and Dean barked out a laugh at her reaction. Sam didn't know what she was on about so he laughed too.
"You've got a lot of catching up to do, sweetheart." Dean said while helping her down off the hood. He threw an arm over her shoulder and dragged her towards his mom. "Mom this is Y/n. My highschool sweetheart." He said pecking her temple.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Winchester.” Y/n said extending her hand for her to shake but Mary pulled her into a hug.
“Call me Mary. And welcome to the family.” She smiled. Dean grinned, watching the exchange with a sense of pride. Mary’s embrace made Y/n feel instantly at ease. Mary pulled back slightly, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s wonderful to finally put a face to the name.”
“You have?” She questioned looking at Dean who looked away shyly.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t around the first time.” Mary joked and Y/n let out an awkward laugh.
Dean stood by, his arm still around Y/n, feeling a deep sense of contentment as his worlds finally came together. He knew they still had a lot to talk about but he also knew that they were meant to be. It’s destiny. Now that he’s got her, he’s never letting her go matter what life throws at him. He’s finally home.
Tags:
@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber
@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart
@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27
@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731
@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567
@thelittlelightinthedarkness @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8
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milequaritchsslut · 1 year ago
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please write a dads bestfriend miguel o’hara wanting to ruin innocent, sweet reader 🥺🥺
DBF Miguel O’Hara Headcannons
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DBF = Dads Best Friend
Warnings: Innocent reader, p in v, teasing, foreplay, dirty talk
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- He definitely likes teasing you and saying inappropriate things when your parents aren’t around. He’ll squeeze you wherever he can until your whining and whimpering for him to stop cause your so embarrassed. ‘Sorry baby—your just so cute’ or ‘Am I hurting the little princess?’
- He loves kissing you, getting you all red and flustered as he slips his tongue in and holds you closely. His large hands roughly holding you closer as he ventures deeper into your mouth, desperate to taste every inch of you. ‘M-Miguel’ you’d whimper out completely flustered as your soft hands gently try to push him away. ‘Mami shhh’ he’d coo, wrapping his hand into your hair and pulling you closer as your eyes flutter closed—letting him take what he wanted.
- He loves taking advantage of your kindness and just absolutely ruining you. Whenever you two are out together with your dads permission he loves whispering all the things he’s gonna do to you the second you two are alone, getting you all shy and blushing as you smile from embarrassment. He loves doing it in public, rushing into the family bathroom and pushing you against the wall as he quickly takes your clothes off. Panting and breathless you let him, and before you know it he’s already positioning himself in between your legs.
‘M-Miggy b-be quieter’ you’d whimper out helplessly as he thrusts into you ruthlessly, your legs wrapped around him as your held against the wall. His hands are gripped tightly around your waist as his cock hits your sweet spot every time.
He looks up at you, loving the way your adorable little face twists and turns in pleasure as he hits deeper and deeper with every thrust. He loves making you mess, your makeup sweating off and your skirt bunched up into a ball on the bathroom ground next to you.
- Whenever he’s invited to family dinners, he makes sure to sit right next to you. Scooting his chair to be smushed right next to yours, purposely making sure he can touch you as much as possible. While your eating he lets his hand wander up your thigh and under your cute little skirt—talking to your father the whole time with a fat smirk plastered across his face. Your cheeks would grow a tint of pink, trying your best not to react and ignore it. You soon felt a finger prodding at your underwear, rubbing gentle circles on your clit. Your thighs squeeze together helplessly, trying to stop the pleasure from getting to you. A wet spot forming on your panties and seeping onto his large fingers.
‘Is someone getting excited?’ He’d whisper into your ear slyly, his hand leaving your thigh and setting on his lap instead. Purposely leaving you wet and desperate, you rolled your eyes and went back to eating your food—horny and disappointed.
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Taglist: @jennieskimichi @rawegggohan @raaaaainn @horror-cassettes @adrunkskeletonsduck @nejirehh @222a1yssa @beiroviski @lana-4life @ladyfairenvale @emmalandry @a-trash-person @ladybambifae @strawberrychita @marcelineormars
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vrystalius · 2 months ago
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How would Sanemi react to meeting his girlfriend's parents? She's been wanting to introduce Sanemi to her parents for a while now. Thank you so much for always making such wonderful posts,you brighten my day 💚
❕Sanemi meeting your parents for the first time
How will he act?
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Note: It’s you! Thank you for requesting again, your asks are very fun to work on. I always recognise you by the green heart <3 I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
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— When you asked Sanemi to meet your parents, he was horrified. He knows that his rude personality is not for everyone, and his intimidating looks don’t make that fact any better. On the surface, he gives the impression of a shithead. That would probably give your parents a bad taste in their mouth when thinking about their girl being with a man like him.
— Although, he noticed how excited and happy you seemed when the day of approached, while Sanemi dreaded meeting your mother and father. He already tried planning everything out in his head, what to say and do and how to act. He’s so incredibly nervous, he wants to leave a good impression desperately so that he can later get the for permission to marry you.
— Sanemi only noticed now that the only clothing articles he owns are demon slayer uniforms. No haoris, no yukatas or hakama pants. He didn’t want to show up at your parent’s house dressed in a uniform and wearing his haori where the word “kill” is depicted.
— So, he borrowed a yukata from Tengen. Surprisingly, he had something in his size wich wasn’t completely colourful or an eye-sore. He picked out something with a darker green-blue tone and a simple wind pattern. This should do, he thinks.
— Also, he bought some make up to cover his his scars on his face. His first attempt at make up looked like Sanemi drew on random patches of colour onto his face. You had to wipe it off his face and apply it for him, making it look more natural. Seeing Sanemi without his face scars is weird, but not too bad. He looks softer and a little less scary (even though you really liked his scars. They look like perfect areas to put kisses on).
— Sanemi decided to leave the scars on his arms and just simply cover them up with his sleeves. After a good night’s of sleep, the redness in his eyes faded slightly, making him look less stressed and more relaxed. Sanemi looked so different from before, almost like a new person. You didn’t like how much he was trying to change himself just to leave a good impression on your parents, but if he insists on doing this, then you won’t stop him. You reapplied the make up for him before you two head out, giving him encouraging words and comforting touches.
— He even bought a gift for your parents! Sanemi chose the most expensive sake he could find and brought it to your parents. He didn’t know if they even drink or like alcohol (He hoped not, given how much he despised people who drank alcohol).
— After arriving at your parent’s house and sitting down to eat, you noticed how quiet Sanemi has gotten. He’s giving out short responses to questions and just thanks them quietly for inviting him. You could tell how nervous he was.
— Sanemi thought that if he just stays quiet and barely says anything, there’s less of a chance to come off as rude or cold.
— Your parents thought that Sanemi was a bit of an odd person. He’s being very quiet and refuses to elaborate on what he does for work and how he could afford this sake, but otherwise, he seems nice. They saw the way Sanemi glances at you every now and then and the lovesick gaze he is, and hos much his pupils dilated. They noticed how hard Sanemi tried to give off a good impression and acknowledged his efforts. Overall, he’s not too bad. As long as you seem happy and Sanemi is treating you right, they think.
— Back in your shared home, Sanemi washed off all the make-up and sweat, letting out one of the biggest breathers he held in the whole time. This was, somehow, one of the most nerve-racking things he has ever done.
“I fuckin’ hope they like me. I want to marry their daughter and need their for that blessing… What? You didn’t think I’d want to marry you? Don’t give me that. You know how much I love ya.”
💠
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.
Take care of yourselves!
Here’s my masterlist got the hashira.
Here’s my masterlist for the demons.
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strawberrystepmom · 4 months ago
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yami x f!noble reader. cw smoking, sex insinuated, misogyny and mentions of marriage as well as fertility but not on yami's part. i just like these two sorry for party rockin | wc 1.1k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune
you can read more about these two here
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“I know it’s impolite to ask but what happened between the two of you?”
Yami chuckles, shoulders pressed against the rickety headboard behind him. 
“Who?” He asks, well aware of what you mean despite his attempt to seem unsure. You sigh, turning to look at him. 
“Charlotte.”
A moonbeam pours in over the two of you, the room otherwise dark and silent, the stillness emboldening you to finally ask him some questions. Tightening the sheet that is wrapped around your body, you dare glance up at him to find him already staring at you, as though he’s trying to figure out why you’d ask in the first place.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out,” he shrugs flippantly. You get the sense that he’s downplaying but keep it to yourself, wide eyes watching his every movement. “We were more different than we thought and decided to go our separate ways and it has been mostly fine.”
Perhaps it’s naivety (or the four failed engagements) but you believe that you understand what he means, nodding slowly. You’ve always viewed love as an ever changing puzzle, similar to the one in your father’s study at home. A wooden frame holds ceramic sliding tiles and you position them again and again until a picture is clear and in front of you - what you’ve been looking for the entire time. 
You blink hard and glance down at your hands, once again pulling the linens over your exposed cleavage. Goosebumps prickle your skin, forcing you to dive further under, and he notices and pulls you against his warm side.
“Since we’re asking questions all of sudden, how about you?” He raises a brow, sliding lower into the bed and giving you room to rest your head against the firmness of his stomach. “Four is damn near impressive.”
Mirroring his prior shrug, you contemplate quietly what it truly means to tell four men you don’t want to marry them. Arrogant is what one told you and you found it hard to disagree when he was red cheeked and yelling at you. Frigid was what another said, accusing you of hiding potential issues with producing an heir for his family. A third said nothing but left you silently to consider your opinion of yourself, sitting in a wooden backed chair in the study where that slide puzzle rested on a table across from you while he cast you a disappointed glance.
The fourth and most recent you objected to before he could harm your ego further, refusing his offers of land and jewels. You have both of those things. You’re an heiress in your own right despite the sons your father has now sired amongst your 11 siblings. Physical means mean nothing to you when what you desire is deeper than gilded flesh. 
“I cannot commit to living a life where I will be unable to be who I am.” 
You finally answer after prolonged silence, giving yourself permission to be honest since he was honest with you. 
“So you don’t want to get married?” He asks, finally lighting a cigarette but politely blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you. You shake your head, the back of it against his stomach, leaving you to look up at him. “The opposite, actually. I would love to be married and to have a family but not at the cost of myself and having to be misunderstood to maintain peace.”
He hums, a sound you believe is some level of understanding of what you mean, and inhales another puff. 
“What makes you so different from all the other noble girls?”
The question would be offensive if it were to be asked by anyone else but you know Yami. He’s rough around the edges and sometimes a bit too curt in saying what he means but there’s genuine curiosity not derision in his tone. 
“I’m apprehensive to say that I am all that different considering how similar our upbringings tend to be yet I feel like I’ve never quite fit in with them.” Your head remains resting in the cradle of his slightly bent middle, the cherry glow of his cigarette illuminating his face enough you can make out those wise eyes staring at your mouth. “I’ve never loved high society. It’s suffocating and everyone is very judgemental and most of them have already, probably correctly, theorized that I will be a spinster left to take care of my siblings for all my life.”
A chuckle rumbles through him in tandem with a shake of his head you can see thanks to the glow of his cigarette. He mumbles around the filter, one big hand coming to rest on the covered dip of your waist. “Don’t say shit like that. You’re pretty and smart and funny once you get to runnin’ your mouth so what’s the point in pretending you aren’t?”
Your face warms beneath his praise and your eyes dart away from him, choosing to settle on the specs of dust floating through the single beam of light shining through the room. You’ve already given him more of yourself than you intended and not simply your body, your feelings as well. There’s no turning back so you continue, feeling your heart beating in your throat while speaking.
“I believe it’s easier for me to make all of this my fault,” you nearly whisper, keeping your gaze locked on the ceiling above while you’re making a confession. “To believe there’s something wrong with me rather than the system we use to decide people’s value.”
Stamping out his cigarette against the windowsill with his free hand, he squeezes your waist with the occupied one and draws your attention back, leaving you blinking up at him.
“Well don’t. It doesn’t seem like you’re the problem here at all.” Another squeeze and your heart beats in time with it. There’s an easy smile on his face, one you can barely make out in the dim room, yet you match it with one of your own.  “I think you have plenty of time to find someone if you want to,” he continues. 
“I think the same of you, Yami.” An unexpected response. He raises a brow, sliding further down into the bed beside you. You remain with your head against him, tucked into his side, a large arm wrapped around your waist. “I think the woman who ends up with you will be lucky.”
Pulling you tighter against him, he considers your sentiment and hums.
“I guess you’ll have to ask her when that day comes if she’s lucky or not.”
You nod once, deciding to let silence win you both over as the night continues to fade away, hoping to prolong your time with him as much as possible without any further interruption.
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