#but he was with men willing to give the same and he would have known that

[eoinmcgonigal]

Marc "for my family" Halévy yes.

But also Marc "for the cause" Halévy who was a trained soldier on an SAS mission, knew the stakes, was with other men who were willing to lay down their lives for the same cause, heard the man betraying them say (in German which the others couldn't understand) that he was going to alert all the airfields, and did what he could about it.

[punkshort]

Thank you Anon for this request!

A Deeper Purpose

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: Living in Jackson during the apocalypse doesn't do anything to curb your desire to have a child. The problem is, most of the men in town are unavailable... except for one.

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, breeding kink (given the request, obv), language, friends to lovers, mentions of anxiety, infertility, pregnancy, angst, pining, alcohol

WC: 3.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you first asked him, he thought you were crazy.

He stared at you in complete disbelief, his gaze flickering down to the drink in your hand, trying to recall how many you had to propose something so insane. But it was only one.

"Are you fuckin' serious?"

"Mhmm," you said confidently. "I've thought about it for a long time. I want a baby and the men in this town are either taken or have the mental fortitude of a child," you joked nervously. "You're neither of those things. Besides... I trust you."

His eyes softened for a moment and he dropped his gaze to the table. You had known Joel for the better part of five years, and while at first he was brash and gruff, throughout countless patrols and fights against infected where you had to have each other's backs, you had grown rather close. Neither of you ever crossed the line past friendship, and you had never even thought about it until recently when your anxiety was keeping you up late at night, wondering if you would ever find a man and settle down to start a family.

It was a luxury in this life, to be sure. The population of Jackson wasn't very large, but in five years you had come to get a good read on most of its citizens. And you kept coming back to the same conclusion: the man for you was not there.

So after much thought and self-reflection, you worked up enough courage to get a drink with Joel after your route and ask him if he would be willing to give you a baby.

You followed up by telling him you would be solely responsible, that you would do all the work and he could be as involved in the child's life as much as he wanted to be, if at all, while he sat there dumbstruck.

Now he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck nervously as he weighed your proposal.

"Can I think 'bout it?" he finally asked.

"Oh, god, of course!" you exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise that he was considering it at all. "However much time you need."

But that was almost a month ago. Each day that passed you became more anxious, more impatient, and it was beginning to sour your mood.

On that particular day you were checking out the park rangers outpost hidden deep within the Wyoming forest. The building was up within the trees, providing the park rangers in the past a bird's eye view of the forest, and now it gives Jackson the same.

Joel was scribbling something in the log book while you strolled aimlessly around the cabin, opening and shutting drawers loudly, already knowing what was in them but just looking for something to do.

"Somethin' on your mind?" he mumbled over his shoulder, his focus still on the book.

"No," you said defensively, but when you angrily began to struggle with a window that refused to open, it became clear you were lying.

"Here, lemme help," he offered, dropping the pencil and walking to your side of the room.

"I'm fine, I don't need your help," you snapped, though you obviously did.

His hands gripped your shoulders and forcibly moved you out of the way before he took hold of the window and gave it a quick jerk, loosening the window in it's frame and finally allowing fresh air in.

He smirked at you and you rolled your eyes before breezing past him.

"This attitude 'bout the window or 'bout what you asked me?" he challenged, stopping you dead in your tracks. Slowly, you spun around, unsure what to say.

"The window," you finally answered, then shifted your weight and shrugged. "Okay, maybe a little of both."

"Mhmm," he said, advancing toward you. "Thought so."

"Well... have you thought about it or are you just trying to come up with a nice way to say no?"

He frowned and propped his hands on his hips. "Now why d'you think it's a no?"

"Because you haven't said a single word about it in a month," you told him like the answer was obvious.

"Well maybe the answer's yes but I don't know how to casually bring up into polite conversation that I'm ready to knock up my goddamn friend!" he argued.

You stared at him, jaw hanging open in disbelief.

"Wait, really?" you whispered.

He nodded and scrubbed his palms over his face. "Yeah, I mean... if you still wanna or... whatever," he grumbled.

The first time was bad, to put it mildly. Your kisses were all teeth, chins and noses bumped together awkwardly. You had hoped once you got down to it that it would have gotten better, but you were wrong. Your rhythms were all off, you hit your head on the end table, and Joel nearly fell off the couch at one point. Needless to say, you didn't come. It was a miracle he did by the end of it.

Afterwards, you both sat there, catching your breaths and wondering if you made a huge mistake.

No, it wasn't a mistake. It was always a means to an end. Ultimately, it didn't really matter if the sex was good or not, the end result would be the same.

Still...

"I'm not usually that bad," you finally said, breaking the thick silence. He groaned and tipped his head back to rest on the couch.

"Me either. I swear, I ain't lyin'. I never usually..." he trailed off, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. "We'll try again. Back home. In a bed. That's the problem. It's gotta be, right?"

"Yeah," you nodded, not fully believing him but at that point, what could it hurt?

The next time was the following day at your home. It was a little better than the first time, but not by much.

"It doesn't matter, Joel," you assured him, tugging your blanket over your chest.

"Matters to me," he said defensively. "I'm too in my head or somethin'. It's still weird, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it's weird," you agreed.

"It's too planned out. Maybe it's gotta be more natural. More... spontaneous."

"Yeah," you agreed.

A couple evenings later one of the other men on patrol was having a bonfire at his home and invited a handful of others, you and Joel included.

Ten or so people sat around a roaring fire, tossing back whiskey and playing cards or swapping war stories. The alcohol made you feel warm and relaxed, your limbs as loose as your tongue when you joked around with the others, joining in on the teasing when a seasoned patrolman admitted to shooting off a crossbow at a leaf that fell just a little too loudly in the woods.

Then you felt a hand on the small of your back and you turned, your eyes glassy and face warm from the booze and the laughs. Joel stood beside you looking just as at ease as you and he gave you a knowing look.

For once, you were on the same page. Neither of you said a word.

You made your excuses, said your goodbyes, and slipped into the night. It was quiet, the rest of the town asleep, so it was easy to hear Joel's voice carry over the wind a few minutes later when he announced his departure, your heart skipping an excited beat in your chest.

He didn't hurry to catch up with you and you were glad. It helped. The anticipation built up on the walk home, and for the first time you felt a warmth bloom between your legs. Your fingers shakily worked your front door when you heard his steps growing closer, the crunching of gravel growing louder and louder until your door swung open and the squeak of old wood under his boots as he walked up your stairs echoed in your ears.

You didn't bother to turn the lights on. His hands were on your waist instantly, kicking the door closed behind him as his mouth crashed against yours with a groan. All you could hear was your shared breath and the rustling of fabric, each of you working to strip the other of their clothes as quickly as possible.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the spontaneity of it. Whatever it was, it was better. Oh, so much better.

Somehow you had made it to your bed and you had never been more grateful to have a small ranch home in your life. When he first pushed inside, you moaned and arched your back off the mattress and his teeth gently grazed your collarbone, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. Instantly, you found a rhythm. Your hips rolled to meet his at the perfect time, his hands squeezed and pinched your breasts while his tongue invaded your mouth, only sliding down to cup your ass when he sensed it was becoming too much.

"More," you moaned into his mouth, heels digging into the backs of his thighs. He alternated between snapping and grinding his hips, the mix of sensations quickly bringing you over the edge.

You could feel the excitement in his body when he finally made you come. Like he was reenergized and focused, like he had finally accomplished what he set out to do.

"Come for me, Joel," you whispered in his ear before nipping at his earlobe. You could tell he was close by the way his muscles tensed and the deep groans emanating from his chest.

"Yeah? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?" he growled, the dirty talk sending a jolt of surprise through you. Before, he had been so quiet. This was new.

"Yeah," you whispered back, "want you to fuck a baby in me. I want everyone to see what you did to me."

He groaned so loudly you wondered if it could be heard from outside. His teeth sunk down into your shoulder when he came, muffled words being spoken into your skin as he shot thick ropes of his seed deep into your womb, only slowing when his legs began to shake and he collapsed on top of you with a huff.

"Fuck," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath on top of you. "That was..." he trailed off with a chuckle and you felt him swallow tightly. "That was much better."

"Yeah," you whispered, your eyes sliding shut as your fingers gently raked through his hair. You didn't even realize you were doing it or how intimate it seemed considering your arrangement, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he leaned into it a bit as he waited for his heartrate to slow.

Once he collected himself, he propped himself up on his hands and slowly eased out of you with a hiss.

"Can you hand me-"

"Yeah," he said, already knowing you were asking for the small, firm pillow you used last time to prop your hips up, and gave it to you. With a groan, he got to his feet and went to your bathroom while you tucked your knees against your chest, hoping you were getting the angle right.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he handed you a wet washcloth to use when you were done, then began to dress.

He glanced at your face, then your hips propped up in the air.

"You need anythin' else?"

"No, I think this'll do," you joked, and he chuckled before he stood.

"Alright then. See you tomorrow?"

"Yep," you said with a smile, then watched him as he left your bedroom and listened while he slid his boots back on and quietly shut the door behind him, leaving you all alone.

"Fuck, it better work this time," you muttered as you bounced up and down on Joel's lap, your hands digging into his shoulders for support as you slid up and down on his cock. His hands held your waist, guiding you while you rode him on his couch, his eyes transfixed on where you were connected.

"Gotta relax. I told you, it ain't gonna work if you stress yourself out," he replied, eyes still glued to the way his cock emerged from your clutch even wetter than before.

"It's been six months, Joel," you whined, but he shushed you by slanting his mouth over yours. He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't mind when you came to him each month with a look of dejection when your efforts inevitably failed. He felt bad for you, don't get him wrong, but he had grown very fond of the one week every month you found yourself wrapped around his cock.

His thumb found your clit and he felt you tense and your mind went blank. Perfect.

"'S'right," he murmured, watching your face go slack, "just turn off that pretty little head of yours for a minute and lemme take care of you."

You nodded, eyes sliding shut as your hips began to work faster, rolling and grinding down on him until your nails dug into his skin and you cried out his name. Fuck, he loved hearing that. It didn't take much more for him to come, his hands gripping your sides so tight, he was afraid he might leave bruises as he thrusted up into you, giving you every last drop of his release.

"Goddamn," he whispered, head falling back onto the couch as he panted for air.

"Shit," you gasped, voice a little cracked. "Shoulda finished with me laying down. It's gonna leak out when -"

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you and, still plugging you with his cock, twisted around so you were laying flat on the couch and he was hovering above you.

"Better?"

"Much," you giggled, playing with a stray curl over his ear. You gazed warmly at one another, neither of you saying a word as your pulse slowed and his cock softened.

"Thank you for doing this for me, Joel," you whispered, your eyes drifting all over his face, taking in every little detail.

He nodded and swallowed then forced himself to look away. If he didn't, he was worried you would see too much.

He slid out of you and grabbed a pillow, handing it to you blindly before standing and strolling to his bathroom. After he cleaned up, he leaned over his sink, hands curled around the cracked vanity, and stared at his reflection in the mirror with a pit in his stomach.

How did he let this happen?

He should have known. The morning before you came over, he had a bad feeling. Like something had shifted in the air, something had changed without his permission and it left an empty feeling in his chest.

The overly excited knock on his door as he sipped his coffee almost made him want to pretend he wasn't home, that you weren't about to bounce into his kitchen holding two white sticks with a huge grin plastered across your face. But he didn't, and you did.

Either he really sold his reaction to your news well or you were too elated to notice his heart being ripped from his chest.

It was over. You were pregnant, and you no longer needed him. You would no longer come by every month and keep his bed warm. You would no longer share breakfast with him or talk to him about the books you were reading. He would go back to being utterly and completely alone.

It took a good month or two, but he adjusted back to his normal life. You still did patrol runs with him, which he protested, but when you finally began to show around five months, you agreed to stop and found a different job in town, instead.

That made his chest crack back open. Now he hardly ever saw you. It was bad enough he didn't get to be with you, taste you, fuck you anymore, but now he didn't even get to hear your voice. Occasionally he would see you in the dining hall or in the street and you would always talk to him, but it wasn't the same. Meanwhile, you walked around Jackson with his child growing in your belly, your shirts straining against the swell of your womb, the life he put inside you blooming before everyone's eyes. And all he wanted to do was claim you, right there in the center of town for everyone to see. For everyone to look in awe at what the two of you had created together.

One evening he was sitting alone in front of his fire, sipping whiskey and staring blankly into the flames. He had a decent life, considering the circumstances. So why couldn't he just be happy?

Then a rap came at his door. Urgent and loud. He placed his tumbler down and quickly went to open it, surprised to find you waiting on the other side.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, one hand over your round stomach. His eyes dropped down to take you in before he met your gaze again.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you replied with a look on your face that told him you didn't realize he would obviously panic about your wellbeing at this point in your pregnancy. "Sorry, I just - can I come in?"

"Yeah, 'course," he said, stepping aside to open the door wider. You toed off your boots and shrugged off your jacket, allowing him to take it from you and hang it up before you wandered into his living room. Your eyes fell on his abandoned glass and you smiled.

"I miss drinking," you said longingly. He grinned and, leaving the whiskey where it was so as not to tempt you, sat on the couch.

"What're you doin' here so late? Is the baby okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, tearing your eyes away from the glass and sitting down near him on the sofa. "Baby's good. I just was thinking about you and I wanted to see you."

He perked up at that, he couldn't help himself. "Oh, yeah?"

You grinned and bit your lip shyly before looking away. "I miss you, I guess."

A smile spread wide across his face. "Aw, how sweet."

You swatted an arm out to smack him on the shoulder and he laughed, his heart finally feeling like it was mending a bit.

"Jerk," you muttered, and he laughed again.

"I missed you, too," he finally admitted, his cheeks rosy from the fire and the whiskey as he gazed at you, the reflection from the flames making your skin glow. Maybe it was that pregnancy glow that everyone used to talk about. Or maybe you always glowed and he just never allowed himself to notice until it was too late.

He watched your throat work, swallowing dryly while your fingers fidgeted in your lap and he realized you were nervous.

"What if I told you I missed you as more than just friends?" you whispered, your eyes pinned to the floor, unwilling or unable to meet his gaze.

His breath caught in his throat. Surely, he must have misheard you. But then you finally turned to look at him, tears welling in your eyes, and his heart lurched in his chest.

"What if I told you I'm in love with you?" he bravely whispered back.

Your eyebrows pinched together and your face crumpled before you reached forward, curling your arms around his neck and pulling him close, your lips pressing together earnestly before opening your mouth and letting his tongue lick behind your teeth.

He wasn't sure how you both made it upstairs and into his bed. He couldn't remember peeling your clothes off, one by one, revealing more and more of your changing body to him for the first time. But he did remember seeing your bare, swollen belly underneath him while his hand slowly slid across your skin in wonder. And then he felt it. A little flutter. A little jolt. And he looked up at you in surprise.

"She's kicking," you explained, and his eyes fell back to your stomach.

"She?"

You nodded, placing your hand over his lovingly. "I think it's a girl."

He smiled as tears began to cloud his vision, then bent forward to press a kiss against your stomach, letting his lips linger so hopefully his unborn daughter could feel him there and feel the love he had for her.

You had to pull him away by his shoulders, the both of you laughing softly, unable to believe how much things had changed in just a year.

Because not only were you a couple months away from finally being a mother, but you also realized you were very, very wrong all those months ago.

The man for you was, in fact, right there all along.

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[trivia-yandere]

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masterlist | part 2

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business. 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.” 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with. 

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits. 

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few  hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away. 

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him. 

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously. 

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his  brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because. 

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be. 

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often. 

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.  

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.” 

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.  

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement. 

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh. 

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest. 

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond. 

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know. 

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once. 

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company. 

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.  

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable. 

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance. 

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

 Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further. 

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful -  how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk. 

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans -  a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp. 

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude. 

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

 Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin. 

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes. 

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure. 

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts. 

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying. 

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane. 

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat. 

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want. 

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

 The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

part 2 | teaser to part 2

[ithebookhoarder]

Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 

So, you’d said yes. 

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 

“What about female guests though?” 

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 

“Anthony?” 

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 

Oh. You were in for it now. 

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!" 

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

[yanderefarm]

yandere crime lord introduction

cw;; torture, violence, yandere things, nsft

he's finally here. please feast your eyes on him. pretty boy. im amazed at how the three of them really do look like brothers. i was having a really hard time with his hair when i finally to give him curly hair like his brother and its such a good choice. ajax has some curl to his hair too so they all look related.

achilles is the eldest brother of ares and ajax. he's 35 years old.

he has a nicotine addiction and he goes through a pack a week. quitting is more stressful than it's worth so he hasn't tried.

he stays in touch with his brothers. ares more so because ares calls him to hide bodies frequently.

he isn't head of the family yet, he works right under his father and he has a lot of the same power and responsibilities.

he hates violence and as a young boy he was even more soft spoken and didn't want to hurt anyone. now he has no choice and that adds to his stress.

his whole life he's been compared to ares because he's so much softer than his more aggressive brother. this caused him to really develop a complex where he's always thinking about how much better ares would be at everything he tries and then he starts to stress that people will realize that he's just faking being tough and masculine.

he's known since he was young that he likes men but he doesn't want to risk anymore more evidence against him.

he doesn't have time for relationships or a personal life. his routine is basically work, stress, eat, sleep.

this only changes when he's with you. suddenly he doesn't have to stop and remember to eat. he doesn't have to hurt anyone or be threatening. there's no fear of being exposed with you.

his routine with you is torture, eat, get taken care of, sleep.

at first it was horrible, of course it would be. he spent every day just praying he survived. but one day you weren't torturing him, instead you just let him sit in the same room as you.

for the first time he didn't have to be scared or worry about survival and he was certain all his stress would come back to him. but he realized there was no point in stressing; you would kill him sooner rather than later so he could just comfortably be himself.

he started to get closer to you then forming some kind of strange domesticity. he even found himself enjoying the pain, the horrible pain you would inflict would empty his mind of everything but you.

and then you would patch and clean his wounds so gently. you would always tell him when it was about to sting like you hadn't been putting out cigarettes on his chest an hour ago.

he fell in love with you in the 2 and a half months he spent as your captive. it was nice to love someone so deeply before he died.

and then you told him he could leave. he was confused, upset, confused why he was upset. he wondered if maybe you had found out that your victim had developed a sick affection for you and you were so disgusted with him.

he never understood his younger brother's feelings and possessiveness towards everything. he didn't understand how his brother could claim to love something so deeply that he feels compelled to break it. but when you told him he could go he suddenly understood everything.

it was like something in his mind finally clicked into place and he knew he couldn't let you throw him away. he knew he didn't have any power over you but if he could find something you wanted he could force you to let him stay.

he eventually becomes a pay pig for you. he knows that you're willing to do extreme things for money but he usually just pays to go on dates or for kisses.

he calls you a lot whenever work becomes overwhelming. if you don't answer the phone he'll light up a cigarette instead.

everyone thinks he has a girlfriend and he's some dominant guy who's suddenly whipped for a pretty little girl. they don't know he's the wife.

he loves mascot characters. he really loves cute or ugly cute things. he has a cute phone charm he got from ares and it's the only cute thing he allows himself to own. he can use it being his brother's gift as a good excuse to keep it.

ares knows his real personality while ajax still thinks he's a cool stoic older brother

he is very stoic and he can come off pretty intimidating. he'll accidentally glare at people sometimes because he's just lost in thought and worrying about something.

he only smiles when he's with you. whether you're out on a date or he's getting sewn up he'll have a soft little smile on his face.

if you ever tried to abandon him he would use every resource at his disposal to find you. even if he has to be the one to lock you up he won't let you leave.

he's surprisingly clingy in public. he doesn't do much pda but he'll hold your hand the whole time. if anyone looks at you he'll squeeze your hand and pull you a little closer to himself.

surprisingly it actually takes him a little bit to come around to the idea of bringing sex into things. even longer to convince him that he'd probably enjoy sex more if there was a pain aspect.

now he gets turned on as soon as you press that piece of duct tape over his mouth. he's a complete degenerate.

he loves being degraded. nothing is more exciting than when he calls you at work stressed out and you mock his whole crime lord attitude.

never worry about being too mean to him. he will beg you to make him cry.

he got the family sex = love belief. however because of his work with prostitutes he finds love to be cheap. he didn't think he would ever fall in love until his obsession with you formed.

he also inherited the family forced fem kink. he particularly likes to wear frilly lingerie under his suits while at work. he always sends you a picture of his underwear in the morning.

he over hears someone talking about how much they love calling their wife, wife. so he asks you to call him wife once and it immediately gets him hard. he's a blushing mess about it. .

quiet in bed. when hes not screaming in pain. he just gasps and whimpers at your touch.

he has a desperate need to praise you. like a praise kink but on the giving side. he wants to kiss every inch of your skin and tell you how grateful he is for you.

he doesn't say i love you a lot but when he does it's during sex. especially after edging him.

any kinks you want to try on him he is down to do at least once.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Baki Headcanons

Featuring Baki & Yuujirou Hanma, Kaiou Retsu, and Pickle. Vaguely NSFW perhaps. Female reader.

[Baki Masterlist] [Part II]

Baki Hanma

Baki is overall very gentle, caring and kind. It’s just that sometimes his emotions spill out and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

He often daydreams about his future with you, but occasionally his mind wanders to unpleasant scenarios as well. What if you stop loving him? What if you become tired of him? The thought petrifies him and that’s when the scary feelings take over. He can’t possibly let you go, just like that. How far is he willing to go to keep you with him? He hasn’t found an answer yet and hopes he won’t have to find out.

He’s very protective and can be unpredictable, depending on your reaction. He’s relaxed when it comes to other people approaching you, but if he senses the slightest discomfort coming from you he might lose his temper. Whoever dared to make you upset will immediately regret it.

Baki is always very careful not to hurt you or scare you, though when he’s very excited he might be rougher than expected. Intense intimate moments might reveal a very dominant side of him that reminds you he’s a Hanma.

I feel like he’d enjoy marking his ownership. Baki has a lot of scars as proof of his training, so he’d like to display his love in a similar manner. Whether it’s a heavily scratched back, hickeys or bite marks, he likes to leave his prints on you and adores showing off his own. You’re all his and he’s all yours and he wants the entire world to know.

How quickly he can go from a shy confession to firmly holding onto your wrist and begging you to reassure him of your love. His voice breaks into a quiet pleading growl and you can feel shivers of fear running down your spine. You poor thing, there's nothing to be afraid of. Just pure, honest devotion.

Yuujirou Hanma

Yuujirou is extremely prideful and I feel this could be the main reason behind his obsessive behavior: he’s proud to own and display you to others.

He takes great pride in knowing that no one else has this kind of access to you and he will make it known with every chance that you’re his partner.

He’s not very possessive, in the sense that he’s 100% confident you’ll never find someone as good as him. It doesn’t get better than this and he knows you’re aware. Other people flirting with you? He might briefly watch from afar and thoroughly enjoy the pathetic, pitiful attempts.

Yuujirou acknowledges your strength, so the fact that you’d willingly submit to him makes him dizzy with delight. He adores the absolute dominance he has over you and he can barely contain himself just thinking about it.

I feel like he would really, really enjoy public displays. Having other men witness the lewd sounds and expressions you make, knowing fully that they can only dream of the control he has over you is intoxicating and addictive.

He doesn’t even entertain the idea that you might someday leave him. Someone like you can only be satisfied by someone like him and vice versa. You’re smart enough to recognize it, too.

For the first time he doesn’t consider having a lover as a sign of weakness. You’re worthy enough and he sees you as further proof of his power.

Kaiou Retsu

You wouldn’t be able to tell that Retsu is a yandere for you. He takes pride in his self discipline and he’d never allow himself to expose his weakness to you.

In fact, he’s very conflicted about his feelings and embarrassed to admit such frightful, violent urges. He’s terrified he might hurt you someday, but then again, you’d never give him a reason to. You’d never leave him or upset him, would you?

He is discreetly jealous and possessive, though he doesn’t consider it a bad thing. A new rival just means a new opportunity to prove himself to you and show you that nobody else compares. Sometimes the threat goes away by itself, sometimes he has to interfere, but the result is the same: your bond tightens.

Retsu is calculated and analytical and this becomes particularly handy when interacting with you. He can read you like an open book and knows your likes, dislikes, interests and desires by heart. You often comment on his caring nature: “How did you know I was upset?”, “This is actually my favorite dish!”. Of course, he knows.

Sometimes he might go a little overboard on his quest to know you better. He’s rather good at sneaking around and while he does trust you 100%, he can’t say the same about the perverts out there roaming the streets. When you tell him about the latest hangout with your friends he nods lovingly and tries his best to pretend he didn’t just witness every second of it.

I feel like he might really enjoy kinbaku (Japanese bondage). It’s an artful, traditional form of expressing power and restraint. Seeing you tied up reminds him that you belong only to him.

Pickle

Pickle can be defined by mostly raw affection. He lacks the language to express his intricate feelings, but his love for you is there nonetheless.

He is very confused by everything around him and the change frightens him greatly. He needs a constant in his life that he can cling onto, and that constant happens to be you. You’re the only thing that brings him peace in the unknown and he feels like he can’t function properly if you’re not around.

He’s extremely possessive and territorial. He has difficulty understanding the intentions of people around you, and he doesn’t want to take any risks. So anyone getting too close becomes a rival that causes him to go feral.

He absolutely loves naked cuddles. The skin to skin contact soothes him and reminds him of the peaceful days of the past. He wishes you’d ditch the bizarre robes you insist on wearing.

Pickle is very intelligent and gradually learns to integrate in this new society. He’s not as hostile towards it as he was in the beginning, since this strange new world brought him to you and he couldn’t be more thankful for it. It can’t be that bad, then.

Fighting becomes his way to impress and entertain you. It seems that he no longer needs to hunt for food, but what he can do is to show you just how powerful he is and how easily he can protect you from anything.

You had to password the TV because he’s learned to use it and tries to recreate whatever he sees on the screen, whether just plainly romantic or downright inappropriate.

[petrichorium]

also on my hands and knees dying to know about ur divorce (and perhaps reconciliation maybe…) with sir croc

Firstly I wanna say croc is THE reason for the divorced tier I had everyone in the husband/fiance/bf (and cusp + complicated) tiers I had the list downloaded and then I looked at croc in the husband tier and I was like no. Divorced………

Anyway I think you’re a marriage of convenience at first. Crocodile needs a wife to look more like An Upstanding Citizen Ready To Settle Down for his plans in Alabasta, you need the stability and rapport for your own reasons. A deal was struck (including a nice shiny prenup and an easy way out for both of you), the wedding goes off without a hitch, and now you’re cohabitating.

You’re all but a stranger, truthfully, though he’ll admit you were one of the most beautiful brides he’s seen walking down the aisle. And he finds your presence in his home less distracting than expected—you stay out of his way mostly, though the pair of you eat meals together and sleep in the same bed and you are always expected to be on his arm for formal occasions. You’re more than decent company, slowly warming to him and growing more open; willing to give advice on occasion, even, and it’s good advice he’s prone to heeding.

Which is why he’s blindsided when you drop the papers on his desk. There’s little he can do—they were practically already signed before the wedding, and in the surprise he can’t compose himself enough to think up a proper protest. All he can do is fold his hands together as you turn to leave, clear his throat, and call out, “Might I ask why?”

You shrug. It almost seems sad. “I want something more. You’re a very busy man, I don’t think you can give that to me.”

And those words haunt him, all the more because every trace of you is gone in the span of a few days. He lays in his bed, alone, pondering how much you truly lived in his home and how much he truly had to give you. He thought he made sure you wanted for nothing—but, clearly, that wasn’t the case. And if he’d known you’d be gone in the span of a few years…

In hindsight perhaps he’d been a bit distant. His work took up the vast majority of his time. All those meals were more often than not spent in silence, with Crocodile leaving long before you finished your food; you were often asleep before he came to bed, still slumbering when he woke; he’d arrive to those formal events with you on his arm and part ways almost immediately, drawn to meet with some politician or another and leaving you on your own.

The bed feels empty.

And then he gets a report about Nefertari Vivi. It all goes downhill from there. The empire he spent years building crumbles beneath his feet, toppled by that godforsaken princess and the upstart pirate with a straw hat. And as he’s carted off to Impel Down… he still thinks of you.

It’s perhaps a good thing that you left when you did. In a certain sense it saved you, severing ties with him when you did. But foolishly he wonders about the timing—wonders if it would have happened at all if you’d stayed. Logically he knows the rationale is anything but sound.

Instinctively… whenever he gets out, whatever he intends to do next, he thinks he needs you at his side again.

So when the break-out happens, and Crocodile is given a freedom he’d nearly given up on, the first thing he does is begin to track you down.

It takes more than he thought it would. His web of informants isn’t half of what it once was, and his name no longer pulls as much weight, forced to remain in the shadows as he now is. You, meanwhile, catch onto the mystery person trying to keep tabs on you far too quickly for his liking—flighty thing, never quite setting down roots, quick to flee at the first sign of danger. A trait that has only seemed to worsen in his absence, it seems.

But it’s only a matter of time. He’s Sir Crocodile after all, back from banishment to the depths of the ocean, sure to see the sun again. His men close in on you within a year as he builds up his numbers again, but Crocodile ensures he’s the first to make contact.

He intends to show you immediately how things will be different this time.

You’ve made temporary home on a quaint little island, sharing a house with a little old granny who lets him in eagerly when he presents a bouquet and says it’s for you. There he waits, served tea and biscuits that he doesn’t taste.

And then the door opens. You pause when you see him, eyes wide—donning a breezy sundress you’d never have worn for him in Alabasta, your hair wind-tousled so unlike the meticulous updos he always saw you in, with a basket of produce under arm—and the sight of you has his chest unwinding. It’s like he can breathe again.

Not that he had any intentions to before, but the smell of your familiar perfume steels his resolve to never let you disappear again.

[darkhearted]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS 3.0

arranged marriage themed starters based on this, only revamped and with many added lines! change pronouns, names, or make any other adaptations as needed!

UNHAPPY MATCHES

❝ I would rather die than marry the likes of you. ❞

❝ I will run away! I won’t accept this marriage! ❞

❝ I cannot accept this. I will not marry them – my heart belongs to someone else. ❞

❝ Please – please do not make me wed them! ❞

❝ Anyone else would be better! Please, I know you can find me a better match! ❞

❝ I will never love you! ❞

❝ It isn’t fair! I don’t even know them! ❞

❝ Why him? Can't I marry [name] instead? ❞

❝ He doesn't want me, nor I him. Why force us to marry? ❞

❝ Find me another bride. Any other bride. ❞

❝ I don't want to marry him and go to the other side of the realm, away from everything and everyone I have ever known. ❞

❝ She is not the bride I want. You know that. ❞

❝ She is as pretty as a painting, and lovely in every sense, I'm sure. So give her to a husband who will love her, and let me have the one my heart desires. ❞

❝ I agreed to it for an alliance, and her family failed to deliver. I will not marry her. ❞

❝ I'm a prince of the realm, even if I'm not heir to the throne. This match is beneath me. ❞

❝ I will not accept a bride that is not of our lineage. Our ancient blood is not to be mixed with the blood of other men. ❞

❝ Why must I marry the enemy for the sake of an alliance? Why am I the adequate sacrifice to make? ❞

❝ She hates me, she hates all of our family, and for good reason. Don't make me marry her. ❞

❝ My entire family is dead because of his. His entire family is dead because of mine. Do you truly believe marrying us will be enough? ❞

❝ Joining our two bloodlines solves nothing. There is no undoing the bloodshed between us. ❞

❝ He loved her. He will never love me. ❞

❝ Go through with it and you're sentencing him to death. I do not jest when I say I will rid myself of him sooner or later. ❞

DUTY

❝ Do not touch me! I only married you for duty, stay away from me! ❞

❝ I shall fulfill my duty, but that is all. Please do not touch me unless you must. ❞

❝ I do not care what you want, we did not marry out of love. ❞

❝ We are only marrying because I need an heir. What you do and with who beyond that does not matter to me. ❞

❝ Even though I have been told this would be my duty my entire life, I still can’t quite accept it. ❞

❝ You knew this day would come. People like us only marry for duty, dear. ❞

❝ Love is not the priority for the likes of us. ❞

❝ Marrying for love is a delusion. ❞

❝ Ours is a union of duty. You would do well to remember that. ❞

❝ Every good child knows: duty before your heart’s desire. ❞

❝ I shall marry you only because I must. ❞

❝ Even if we married for duty, our union can still become one of true love. ❞

❝ Duty brought us together, but it is love that will make this bearable. ❞

❝ I do not have to like it, only to fulfill my duty. ❞

❝ I know you wouldn't have chosen me, as I wouldn't have chosen you. But it's our duty to see this through. ❞

❝ I have to place duty first. It's what is expected of me. ❞

❝ I have been betrothed to him for years. I have to do my duty, even if I yearn to be with you instead. ❞

❝ This will be more bearable if we both fulfill our duties. ❞

❝ I am not what you wanted, but I swear to you I shall fulfill my duties as your husband as well as I can — and leave you alone as much as you wish, should that be your preference. ❞

LOVE

❝ Love can be built, too. And if you’re willing, I would like to try and learn to love you. ❞

❝ I do not care about power and wealth. I want to marry for love. ❞

❝ A marriage is a marriage – love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment. ❞

❝ My father used to say the strongest loves are built by choice, not by chance. ❞

❝ Do you believe in love at first sight? I think I’m already in love with you. ❞

❝ You will learn to love. You have to be determined to grow a love that will sustain your marriage for a lifetime.  ❞

❝ We were friends once, do you remember? I know much has happened since, but there was fondness between us before. Perhaps there may yet be love, one day. ❞

❝ I know there is blood and war between us, that we have both lost much, but I do not wish for either of us to feel like this union is a prison. I wish for love — or respect, at the very least. ❞

❝ We are the last ones alive after years of war. This match was meant to unify our enemy bloodlines and end the conflict, no more — so why is it I find myself caring for you? ❞

❝ Your mother and I married for love, but we are the exception, not the rule. ❞

❝ I want to elope, like mother and father did. ❞

❝ We are already betrothed — why not marry right now? ❞

❝ We were meant for each other from the moment we were born. I would make you my wife right this instant, should that be your wish. ❞

❝ I hadn't dared dream an arranged match would find me a wife I now love more than life itself. ❞

❝ If I believed such things, I would say we were always meant to be. ❞

❝ My betrothed is sweet — but I long for deep, passionate, all-consuming love, not sweet. ❞

❝ If you want my love, show me your devotion. ❞

❝ Is it evil that I'm unsure I can love him? He is perfectly suitable, but... ❞

❝ I do not think he can love me. We get along well enough, but something is missing. ❞

❝ We have fire in our blood. There will never be love between us if he fears the flames. ❞

❝ The sea is in our blood. He can only love me if he is brave enough to navigate the waves. ❞

❝ We are rulers of the skies. How could he ever love someone who lacks her own wings? ❞

STRIFE

❝ You refuse me to give yourself to a peasant?! ❞

❝ I understand not wanting me, but favoring a commoner instead? I should kill him for daring to get close to you. ❞

❝ You are mine now. Act properly. ❞

❝ Who you loved before is meaningless. We are married now, and your lover will remain in the past. ❞

❝ I am your wife! I will not be humiliated like this. ❞

❝ Do not forget who I am, my lord. Married though we may be, I'm a crown princess still — and my family shall not take kindly to you mistreating me. ❞

❝ Am I so inadequate as your wife that you need to seek another's bed? ❞

❝ I know peace and politics dictated our marriage, but must you avoid me so? ❞

❝ Leave me be. I fulfill my marital duties as required, but I am not bound to give anything more. ❞

❝ You did not want me, and I did not want you. We agreed on that. So why are you so offended I enjoy the company of another when you yourself do the same? ❞

❝ What do you wish of me, husband? Is it not enough to have the last of my living kin locked in her chambers? To sit the throne you have taken from my father? What more can you desire from me? ❞

❝ I hate this place. It will never be home, and I will never love you. ❞

❝ You are my wife. I would not see my lady wife looking miserable for all court to see. ❞

❝ You are my queen. Do you realize how many other maidens would kill to be in your place, even as you sulk about it? ❞

❝ My own brother, taking my wife to bed? I did not expect such a betrayal from the two of you. ❞

❝ My sister was the better option, I know. You would have preferred she was the one given to you, but alas, we cannot always have what we want. ❞

❝ The man I most despise in this world, and you see it fit to spend time in his company?! I cannot accept it from my betrothed. ❞

❝ You are my betrothed. I would know what you were doing with him. ❞

❝ My lord should know I will not take kindly to mistresses once we are wedded. ❞

❝ You are mine — or will be, soon enough. Do not dare even look at another. ❞

❝ This was my home once, and you ruined it. ❞

ARRANGEMENTS

❝ You will not give my only child to that monster! ❞

❝ It's insulting that you would even suggest a match so beneath my daughter. ❞

❝ She is a princess. She won’t be wed to someone lesser. ❞

❝ You marry our daughter to whomever you desire, when my corpse is cold in my grave, husband. ❞

❝ He will marry the one we chose, not that peasant! ❞

❝ Wed your son to my daughter, or my daughter to your son — better yet, both. Our bloodlines should be joined as one. ❞

❝ Our daughters and your sons. Wouldn't it be lovely to have them wedded? ❞

❝ My granddaughter should sooner slit that man's throat than share his bed. I should advise her to do just that. ❞

❝ My daughter will marry him, for the good of the realm. I do not care how old he is. ❞

❝ You will do as you’re told and marry them! ❞

❝ We picked the best match available for you. ❞

❝ It is the best we managed. I am sorry you don’t like them, but there was no other way. ❞

❝ You are a princess. You will have to agree to a match eventually. ❞

❝ There are so many good proposals! How come none is to your tastes? ❞

❝ Our bloodline must continue, and for that, you need to marry and have heirs. ❞

❝ I will never let them ship you off to a stranger. ❞

❝ You will not be sold for power like I was. ❞

❝ I won’t let them trade you for their alliance! ❞

❝ The arrangement was made when you were both still children. It is much too late to go back on it. ❞

❝ Only kings would be worthy of you. We will accept no less on your behalf. ❞

❝ It is a good match, better than expected. You will marry her. ❞

❝ My daughter will not marry him. I do not care that he's a prince, nor that it could aid in building peace. That boy will not have her. ❞

❝ I do not care if you would go through with it. I would die before letting that boy have you — better yet, I would rather kill him. ❞

❝ They did not honor their word. I know that for years you expected to marry him, but we are calling off the betrothal. ❞

❝ She will make a fine queen and a fine mother. And she is the only adequate match for you besides, whether you like it or not. ❞

❝ We need to find a suitable match for her, before she brings dishonor upon herself. ❞

❝ They have been betrothed for years. It is time we marry them, I should think. ❞

❝ You shall be wedded soon. His claim will be more secure with suitable heirs of his own. ❞

BEGINNINGS

❝ You are not at all what I imagined. ❞

❝ I know you hold no love for me. How could you when we are practically strangers? And I know we may never come to love each other, but we can at least be friends. ❞

❝ The descriptions I heard did not do justice to your beauty. ❞

❝ You are lovely. I am lucky you are to be wed to me. ❞

❝ I must admit I expected far worse from an arranged marriage. ❞

❝ I want to know you better if we are to be wed. Tell me about the things you like. ❞

❝ Am I not what you expected? ❞

❝ You seem disappointed… I may not be as handsome as you expected, but I shall never treat you unkindly. ❞

❝ This is your home too, now. You are free to go wherever you wish. ❞

❝ How odd we have been betrothed for so long but never saw each other before our wedding day. ❞

❝ It's good, to finally put a face to the name I heard spoken so often. ❞

❝ What can I possibly do to thaw the ice surrounding my lovely bride? ❞

❝ I have not seen you smile since we met, princess. What grave sin have I committed to be met with such derision? ❞

❝ I loathe to admit that even your traitor's blood cannot diminish how beautiful you are. ❞

❝ Beautiful, as well as clever. Were you not the usurper's daughter, I may have come to love you. ❞

❝ So very charming. Were you not sitting my father's throne, I may have taken some liking to you. ❞

❝ We've met before, I know, I know. But can we not make this a new beginning? ❞

❝ I should like to put our differences behind us, difficult though it may be. We are to be wedded, after all. Let this be a new beginning. ❞

❝ I hope, in time, this will be your home. ❞

❝ Know that I shall fulfill every duty to you, as your wife. ❞

❝ I know there are prettier brides, but I'll do all that is expected of me most dutifully. ❞

THE MATCHED

❝ In just a few days I will be wed to someone I never met. ❞

❝ It's so odd to think my entire life will change so fast. A person I don’t even know, bound to me for life. ❞

❝ I know they plan to marry me off to someone soon, even if no one said a thing yet. ❞

❝ How could you agree to this without even asking me what I want? ❞

❝ I do not wish to leave home. My betrothed lives in such a different place… ❞

❝ We have been promised to each other for years, and yet we have never met. ❞

❝ They are deciding your life for you! How can you simply accept it?! ❞

❝ There is no reason to make a fuss. I have known for years that someday I would be married to some stranger my family found suitable. ❞

❝ What do you think your betrothed will be like? ❞

❝ Who do you think they'll marry us to? ❞

❝ What do you think of your betrothed so far? You two seemed to get along. ❞

❝ He is so gallant! I hope they choose him for me. ❞

❝ Wouldn't she make a lovely bride? I would not mind marrying her. ❞

❝ I begged mother to marry [name] instead, but she didn't do anything to change my fate. ❞

❝ I begged them to marry you instead. I know we could have been happy together. ❞

❝ I'm glad you are the one they chose for me. ❞

❝ Were it anyone else, I might rebel. You, I shall gladly marry. ❞

❝ We have been promised for years. Shouldn't we be married already? ❞

❝ I know it is the way of things, but to have a betrothal announced like that... I wasn't expecting it. ❞

❝ He was wedded once before. How can I ever live up to the wife he had before? ❞

❝ What is my betrothed like? ❞

❝ Do I have any say on it? At least give me options and allow me to choose. ❞

FOR THE FAMILIES

❝ Through them, we shall finally join our bloodlines! ❞

❝ Our children make quite the pair. I am glad they seem to get along so easily. ❞

❝ It's a bitter thing, to join hands after everything. More bitter still that it is at the cost of my child's happiness. ❞

❝ Pray your child treats mine well. I will not abide anything less. ❞

❝ He is kind, brave, gentle, strong. Your daughter will be in good hands. ❞

❝ She makes a lovely bride. Lovelier than he deserves. ❞

❝ Poison would be best, but hard to come by. Slit his throat in his sleep and rid yourself of the filth they forced you to marry. ❞

❝ I cannot do as you wish, my love. That decision is beyond me. ❞

❝ As women, we control so little of our fate. ❞

❝ You will one day be his lady, and occupy my place as head of the house alongside your lord husband. A great responsibility, but one I know you shall bear well. ❞

❝ My daughter is what I have of most precious. I pray you cherish her as she deserves. ❞

❝ No alliance will make me accept you as family. You are undeserving of my child. ❞

❝ The king may have ruled in favor of this match, but I have half a mind to slay you where you stand before you can get anywhere near my daughter. ❞

❝ I don't care for peace, I will not give my daughter to the likes of you. ❞

❝ My son will have a fitting queen. Nothing less will suffice. ❞

❝ Sweetling, there's no need for tears. We may not marry for love, but we learn to bear it. ❞

❝ My gentle boy. Would that you could live the romance your heart yearns for. ❞

❝ This will be hard, but if anyone can make it work, I know you can, my child. ❞

❝ None of us could hope to be half as charming as you. If you wish to gain your husband's affection, I'm certain you will succeed. ❞

❝ Do you truly think I'd let my child be married to a monster? Of course I got rid of him. ❞

❝ There is bad blood between our families, but I promise you shall never be treated unkindly here. ❞

❝ Now that you two are wedded, I am hoping for grandchildren soon. ❞

AMBITION AND ALLIANCES

❝ A title is all I am to you. Don't pretend otherwise. ❞

❝ You married me for my claim, I know that! I just thought, given time, we could grow to be fond of each other. ❞

❝ Remember what is at stake. Peace relies on our union. ❞

❝ Both our lands benefit from our match – and I know you will be a good queen. ❞

❝ We were wed for an alliance, but this doesn’t need to be terrible. We can at least be friends. ❞

❝ I married you for your title. I do not care for love. ❞

❝ It would be naive to think a single union will end decades of conflict. This is just the beginning. ❞

❝ They found me someone rich to marry! I will finally have everything I want. ❞

❝ I do not care my betrothed is not handsome – I only care that he is rich. ❞

❝ With this match, I will be queen. ❞

❝ Our marriage strengthens your claim. They cannot quest your heirs, undoubtedly of pure, old blood. ❞

❝ I would marry anyone to become royalty. ❞

❝ This will save our house from doom. ❞

❝ Our son remains unmarried. We may yet use this to form a valuable alliance. ❞

❝ What we decide here is the future of the realm. It needs to be a carefully considered match. ❞

❝ You gained a bride of undisputed lineage for your son. We gained a crown for our daughter. A superb arrangement for all involved, I dare say. ❞

IMPOSSIBLE LOVES

❝ My heart is yours, but we cannot be together. My family would never agree to a match like this. ❞

❝ I too am in love with someone else, but they will never allow me to marry my beloved. Why don’t we make an agreement? ❞

❝ The match is already made but I cannot accept it. I love you! ❞

❝ It is you I love! I could not bear to be with them instead. ❞

❝ Marrying them will give the realm peace. I have to agree to the match, even if you are the one I truly love. ❞

❝ I will never love him as much as I love you. ❞

❝ You would be my choice — but you know the choice is not mine to make. ❞

❝ I'm the heir to the throne. I cannot give up on everything for love. ❞

❝ My father wrote. He said... he said — I am to be married. To — oh gods, he wants to marry me to your brother. ❞

❝ Marry me. I care not if you are beneath my station, I want you. ❞

❝ Would you still have me? I love you, but I know the match made for you would be better. ❞

❝ If you do love me as I love you, marry me. Now. ❞

❝ They cannot make me marry him if we are married already. ❞

❝ You're a prince. We can surely find someone who will agree to wed us if you ask. ❞

❝ Marry me. Your betrothed can do nothing if I've already taken you to wife. ❞

❝ I'll duel him for your hand. ❞

❝ They already whisper about us. Why deny ourselves the pleasure when we're already condemned for the sin? ❞

❝ Only a [family name] can love a [family name]. ❞

❝ As much as I love you, I have nothing. I could give you nothing but my love. ❞

❝ If I can't have you, I shall love only the gods. ❞

❝ If I cannot have her, I shall take no wife and father no children. ❞

❝ Do you have any idea of how torturous that would be? To see you every day, knowing you can never be mine? ❞

❝ I'll make you mine. I won't let you be given to anyone else. ❞

❝ Take no wife. Refuse it. Even if we cannot marry, stay with me. ❞

❝ Promise me you'll never love her. Promise me your heart will remain mine. ❞

[raya-hunter01]

Can you do a jey uso imagine where you both see who can last the longest without sex plz 🫠?

Seven Days Without Sex...

One Shot!

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Mia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, masturbation

Summary: Main Event Jey Uso’s words on Gentlemen’s Podcast has him in hot water with his girlfriend. The rules of engagement are laid out as Mia and Jey have a battle of the wills. Can they make it seven days without sex!

Who will give in first, or will they make it seven days without sex. Hope you enjoy your request @mya2real 

Jey’s House

Atlanta, GA

Mia’s POV

“So what you sayin’ is you can go seven days no problem without sex,” I said as Jey shrugged his shoulders.

“Hell yea, I can do it easily,” he said as I scoffed at his attitude. “Really, Mr. I’m sending the jet to get you because I can’t spend another night not being inside you,” I mocked as he groaned.

“Fuck, it was true, I couldn’t wait to see yo’ fine ass.  Why you bringing up old shit?” he asked as I rolled my eyes. “Jey, it ain’t old shit, it was yesterday!” I said irritated as he laughed.

“Damn sho was, wasn’t it?” he replied as I got up and put on my robe.” I’m going to take a shower,” I huffed as he growled.

“I know you ain’t mad Mia, I didn’t hear yo’ ass complaining yesterday. You packed your shit wit a quickness and got yo’ fine ass on the Jet,” Jey said following me into the bathroom.

“I ain’t mad about that shit, because yo’ ass has caught many red-eye flights before you owned the jet. Don't even get me started on the all-night drives you used to make just to be up in this pussy for a couple minutes or a couple hours,” I said making it known he was just as whipped as me.

 “Babe, I never said that I didn’t, you know how we get down. I love that about us,” Jey started as I interrupted him.

“Don’t play wit me Jey, we crave each other. Stop fakin’ the funk like it’s one-sided to stroke your ego when you are doing interviews,” I said turning on the water.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t even remember what I said on that podcast. It’s a men’s deal where they discuss random shit and sex came up. I really don’t even remember what I said that could have made you mad,” Jey said as I frowned at him.

I began mocking Jey response to the host to refresh his memory.

“I know if me and my girl did the seven days without sex challenge I would win because she can’t resist me. I can make the call no matter where I am in the world, and she will get her ass on my personal jet and come handle business. She loves how I dick her down, end quote,” I said making quotations with my fingers as he sighed in frustration.

“What’s wrong wit what I said?  It’s true, men would kill for that shit and I can’t help but feel lucky, that you down for ya boy dat way,” he said as I threw up my hands it frustration, he wasn’t understanding.

“I actually ain’t mad about that, what irritates me is how you only told one side of the story and didn’t disclose how you do the same for me.

“Mia, I thought that it explained itself, I didn’t mean no harm baby,” Jey said as I saw him smirking.

"I’m not mad, I just think it would be fun for us to do the seven-day challenge to actually see who cracks first,” I said as his smirk finally left his face.  

“Uh, I don’t know about that. Come on Mia, we got a week before you go home. Do we really want to play this game for seven days,” Jey said as it was my time to smirk.

“Oh, I wanna play, I really think it would do us good to see who can last the longest without sex,” I said as I heard him grumble.

“Fuck, you are really serious?” Jey asked as I smiled at him. “What are the rules of engagement?” he asked as I smiled at his uneasiness.

 I can tell this was going to be fun teasing him these next couple of days to lose control.

“It’s easy, no sex, no oral, no kissing, but masturbation is allowed,” I said shrugging my shoulders as I saw Jey’s arm twitch.

“So, I can’t even kiss you, come on, that ain’t fair. You know it’s somethin’ bout dem kisses,” Jey said as I slowly walked up to him dropping my robe as he groaned.

“You are so evil, but I love yo’ ass,” he whispered as I smiled slightly biting my lip.  

“You could end all this baby, all you got do is take me,” I whispered seeing him lick his lips as I slowly turned and walked into the shower.

Yea, let the games begin.

---

Survivor Series,

Allstate Arena, Chicago, IL

Day one

Early this morning we flew out for Survivor Series but thankfully Jey's bus was delivered to the building today so we wouldn't have to fly back.

I love how he is investing his money to take some one stress off of himself.

The other good news is after tonight we’re going back to Jey’s house in Atlanta. Raw is scheduled to take place in Atlanta so we will have three days of alone time and l I can’t wait.

 I have to put this plan into action quick because I go back to Pensacola in six days. There is no way I’m leaving here without being properly dicked down correctly, especially knowing they are about to do a UK tour.

Looking over this fly outfit Sandra put together for me is definitely going to assist me in teasing my boyfriend. Hell, he may cave tonight, one can hope right.

"So how did I do?" Sandra asked as I smiled brightly at her.

“You did the damn thang! Thank you, Sandra, I love it!” I exclaimed hugging WWE’s most amazing seamstress. She had made me a camo skirt to match Jey’s tights and cut up one of his new shirts for me.

“I know Jey is going to love you in this,” she said as I went into her little changing area to try on my skirt.

Looking in the mirror I found myself smiling. I knew he would love it as much as I did.

“Does the skirt need to be made longer?” she asked as I looked down at my exposed thick thighs Jey loved so much.

“No, it’s good, I really like it. Now ask me if I’m bending over with wild abandon tonight?” I said as she sighed.

 “Mia, are you planning to bend over with wild abandon tonight?” she asked as I smiled.

 “In the crowd no…Now on the bus tonight, I hope so,” I laughed as her jaw dropped in shock.

“Oh my god, ya’ll two are something else,” she said as I finished getting dressed.

"Let me make sure you good," she said as I came out to let her inspect her work as Jimmy came up with his jacket.

"Aye, how you doin’ Sandra, do you think you got time to fix this rip?" he asked as she glanced at him. "Yea, I got you, Jimmy, she said smoothing my skirt down.

“Damn Mia, you trying to give brother a heart attack ain’t you? I heard about the bet,” he said leaning over and giving me a hug.

“I’m even matching Jey down to the shoes,” I said proud of myself. “She’s looking for trouble is what she’s doin'. She knows teasing that man ain't gon' end good,” Sandra said as I smiled.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise,” I said as Jimmy smirked at me shaking his head.

“You know he ain’t letting you in the crowd like that without someone out there with you,” Jimmy said as I rolled my eyes.

“I’m gon’ watch in the crowd with Truth so I’ll be safe,” I said giving him a hug.

“By the way my money is on you, so you better win,” Jimmy whispered as I laughed before walking away.

“Bye Jimmy, and thanks for everything Sandra,” I said as Jimmy waved and gave his jacket to Sandra as she searched for her needle and thread.

“Enjoy the show, I’ll hit you up later,” she said as I continued my journey to Jey’s locker room.

Jey’s POV

“I should have kept my damn mouth shut and not said a word. Now I done got myself in some shit,” I muttered to myself as I laid back on the couch closing my eyes, trying to relax my mind. 

Last night was torture as I laid beside Mia and couldn’t dick her down. That was the point of flying her out so I could spend as much time as I could knee-deep up in dat pussy before this upcoming U.K. tour.

Hearing the door open, I knew it was her but kept my eyes closed as she shuffled around the room.

“Babe, you could have at least picked your stuff up off the floor,” she said as I opened my eyes, my breath hitched in my throat.

 In front of me, Mia was bent over and all I saw was ass, and those sexy plush lips I love to make love to with my mouth covered in blue lace.

She knows blue is one of my favorite colors to see on her and it's a lacy thong...Oh yea, she playin' dirty.

“Damn Mia,” I hissed, sitting up and grabbing her hips. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked casually like her pussy wasn’t drippin’ wet in my face begging me to reach out and claim it.

I fought to maintain control and remember the bet.

 “You fuckin’ know what’s wrong wit me,” I hissed swiftly moving her out of the way.

“What’s wrong Josh,” she said dramatically turning around and looking at me as my dick strained painfully against my tights.

Fuck, I needed relief and quick as she looked at me innocently.

 “Damn, that’s all it took baby?” she whispered as I licked my lips seeing her whole outfit for the show tonight.

 “You know that’s all it takes when it’s you,” I moaned, tempted to touch her as she adjusted her shirt.

“I wanted to surprise you, we’re matching baby,” she said as I grabbed the bottom of her shit pulling her to me. The gasp that fell from her lips as our bodies touched made my dick jump in anticipation.

“I see and I love it, you look so sexy,” I praised as she moaned. “How much do you like it?” She asked caressing my face as I caressed her hips innocently, our lips almost touching as I teasingly changed course, burying my face in her neck and inhaling her intoxicating scent.

“What are you doin' Jey?” she asked as her body trembled against mine as I teased her.

Mia’s POV

Fuck, he knew how sensitive I was to his touch, and he thrived on it. The minute he pulled me to him, I wanted to fuck his brains out.  

“I bet you wet as fuck and I ain’t even touched you yet, but I got you, baby. I can calm dat ache you feelin’ Mia," he declared as I tried to calm my breathing.  “You can baby?” I questioned as he nodded.

“Yea, I can baby, and all you gotta do is give in to me,” he whispered against my ear as I shivered against him in anticipation.

I couldn't help but Imagine how good it would feel to give in to him and let him take me. Stay strong Mia, don’t give in.

I continued to struggle to catch my breath as I felt his dick pressed against me, begging to be touched.

“Just touch me, Mia,” he whispered, his words snapping me out of the spell he had me under.

 Nah, you ain’t getting me today, this is war, Mr. Fatu.

 “I can touch you baby, but you need to say I win,” I said as I innocently removed his hand from my waist and slid up against him as he hissed.

 “Shit, you playin' dirty rubbin' all up on me, knowin' I need some help” Jey whispered pointing to his huge bulging erection as I smirked at him.

“I ain’t did nothing, baby,” I said walking away to take a seat on the other couch acting unbothered, but inside I was screaming. The whole interaction was so innocent but so fucking hot at the same time.

“Damn, I need to take a cold shower and calm down,” I heard him mutter as I smirked. “Daddy you ain’t gotta calm down, you can come lose control all in this pussy. She misses you so much,” I purred spreading my legs wide, my blue lace thong on display as Jey growled readjusting himself in his pants.

“I promise you when this is over, I’ma demolish dat pussy and yo’ ass ain’t gone be able to walk for a week. I’ma fuck dat pussy so good it’s gon’ cream every single time you think about me,” Jey declared as I shivered at the thought.

“Damn, I can’t wait,” I whispered blowing him a kiss as he stalked into the bathroom as I laughed.

“First rule of war, never underestimate your opponent, Mr. Fatu,” I muttered.

Yea, it won’t be long, by day three it’s a wrap.

----

Jey’s House

Atlanta, GA

Mia’s POV

Day Two

Day two and I'm losing it, I almost jumped him in the shower this morning. Opening the refrigerator door I sighed. Bless his heart, he is rarely home and his fridge shows it, practically bare.

Heading back upstairs I knew I had to wake him and I hated it because he really needed his rest.

“Jey, we need to get some groceries, I’m hungry and it’s lunchtime babe,” I said walking into the bedroom, a strangled moan escaped my lips as I saw Jey sprawled out on the bed naked with a smile.

It’s a trap Mia, abort mission! Do you hear me, girl?  Abort mission, just say no to the dick.

“Baby, we ain’t gotta go shoppin’ right now. Daddy got yo’ lunch right here,” Jey moaned slowly stoking his dick as I felt my thighs clench.

“Oh, you motherfucka,” I whispered, his eyes never leaving mine.

“What, I was just up here waiting on you to come get yo’ lunch,” Jey groaned never stopping his strokes.

 “I think you trying to trick me,” I countered walking slowly towards him, watching him in wonder as my pussy was getting wetter by the second.

“I ain’t tryin’ to trick you. You can do what you want wit me, I’m yours to use Mia,” Jey moaned as I bite my lip, his knowing smirk rendering me speechless. He was playing dirty, and I loved it.

  “I think you want to sit on Daddy’s dick and ride him real good, don’t you? Come on Mia, Daddy won’t bite, I promise,” he whispered, his strokes deliberate.

Slowly I crawled to him, his hand movements and moans were becoming more urgent, as our eyes remained focused on each other.

“Does it feel good baby?” I purred knowing exactly what I was doing and so did he. This was a battle of the wills and we both were losing.

“Hell yea, but it could feel even better, but you playin’. You know you want dis dick,” Jey whispered against my ear as I felt myself about to explode just from his words as I clenched my thighs tight.

Don’t give in Mia, stay strong you got a point to prove.

“Just hop on Mia and ride Daddy like the good girl you are,” he groaned as I bit back a moan.

“That’s what you want me to do Daddy?” I purred as our eyes met again. “Hell yea, just ride dat shit like only you can,” he moaned as I placed my hand over his, helping him, knowing he was close to his end.

“Mmhm, fuck yea, help me out,” he panted, his eyes now closed in pleasure.

 In a last-ditch effort, I decided to shoot my shot to end this game.  “Mmm, give in Jey…Please Daddy,” I moaned against his ear, as an animalistic growl fell from his lips.

Quickly I found myself on my back as Jey kneeled between my legs, rubbing his dick against my clit. The sensation was so strong I almost came from the excitement.

"Jey, please, just give in'" I whimpered wanting him to sink inside me as far as he could.

“Mmhm,you feel dat shit don't you? It’s all for you, just say I win, and I’ll make you nut so good, I promise,” Jey moaned as I whimpered in need.

“You know what you need to do then? Just tell me that I win and just slide right in baby. She’s so wet and misses you,” I groaned feeling him close to his breaking point.

“Fuck! Mmm, not yet…Unless you givin’ in,” he taunted, continuing his torture of us both. My body was betraying my mind as he took pleasure in my sweet torture as his dick masterfully played with my clit.

“You gon’ give in to me Mia, one way or another, now cum, Jey groaned as I fell apart underneath him.

“Yea, dats it, this my pussy and don’t you forget it. I love how she cum when Daddy tell her too,” he declared as he joined me on the trip of absolute pleasure.

“This is not fair Josh; just quit,” I whimpered still feeling the ripples of my orgasm as Jey smirked at me.

“Damn, that was a first for us. That shit was hot as hell, I’m having fun now,” Jey said winking at me as he walked into the bathroom.

Damn, he’s good," I muttered relaxing on the bed. Lord, it’s only day two. Mia, you can do this, hang on in there.

Rule number two in war.. Never….Ever.. Underestimate your opponent.

-------

Jey’s House

Atlanta, GA

Jey’s POV

Day Three

Day three and I’m horny, paranoid, and hearing Mia moans in my damn sleep. The sexiest moan ever known to man, I swear this game is bout to be over. I can’t take much more of this shit.

 I felt Mia moving beside me as the bed slightly rocked “Jey, you feel so good” I heard her moan, my eyes snapped open as I turned to look at her.

It wasn’t a dream, it was cruel and unusual punishment up in this motherfucka as I watched her perfect body writhing beside me as she chased her orgasm.

Mia was blissfully unaware that I was awake, her eyes closed as she pleasured herself.

Hearing a slight buzzing noise, I realized she was using her rose, I had surprised her with it when she got here the other day and we hadn't had a chance to use it.  

“Mmm, baby right there,” Mia moaned as I growled beside her as she opened her eyes, looking shyly at me as I caressed her face.

 “Yeaa, it feels good don’t it?” I moaned as she nodded unable to speak. “Good, don’t you fuckin’ stop either, keep goin’. You gon’ soak this fuckin’ bed do you hear me?” I declared as she whimpered beside me.  

“Yea, Daddy’s up now, and he wants to watch. You so beautiful,” I whispered as she gasped in pleasure.

“Yes, Daddy, anything you want,” she moaned, moving her hips against her toy as it took her to new heights.

I could hear the wetness, licking my lips I knew I was moments away from losing it. I knew the question I wanted to ask would be my breaking point, but I had to know.

“Mia, is that toy makin’ my pussy cum as good as I can?” I whispered honestly curious.

“Mmm, It’s close, but nothing like you!” she exclaimed as the sounds on the little rose-shaped toy intensified. She had turned up the speed, fuck, that's it, game over.

 I had to have her as I saw her hand trembling trying to hold the toy in place. Crawling between her legs, I moved her hand and took control.

“Jey! Wait, oh my God, baby!” She screamed as I held it over her clit, excited to witness what was about to happen.

“Yeaaa, Jey's here now baby, enjoy yo’self. You deserve it,” I praised as I watched in pleasure how her body was responding.

The sounds of the toy drowning in her wetness clouded not only my thoughts but my vision.

 leaning down, I claimed her lips in a kiss catching her off guard as she gasped in pleasure. “You win baby,” I whispered as she moaned against my lips in satisfaction as I slid into my home.

That was what she was to me, home. “We both win baby,” she gasped. "Damn right, we do,” I declared as she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist, drawing me closer to her.

Pressed tightly against her, I began to thrust long and deep with one hand still masterfully placed on the rose, as her body trembled with need as I reclaimed her.

Mia’s POV

I have never felt more on edge, and alive in this moment as I began grinding my hips against Jey and the rose, feeling a huge release approaching.

“I got you, Mia, let it go. Let it all go for Daddy,” Jey encouraged as he began sucking greedily on my neck. His thrusts going deeper and harder each time, setting my body on fire.

“Jey! I…I.. Fuck! I love you!” I exclaimed as my orgasm took over “I love you too, yea,dats it, Mia. Gush all on dat dick. Fuck you feel so good,” Jey moaned biting my neck as I continued to fall apart in his arms.

“It’s just for you,” I whimpered as he grasped my neck, snaking his tongue around my lips before taking me in a possessive kiss.

The rose long forgotten as he tossed it off the bed, his long deep strokes sending me into another orgasm.

“Fuck! You are such a good girl, damn.  Just squirtin' for Daddy and he didn't even have to ask you too,” Jey praised as my essence soaked the sheets. 

His grip slightly tightening around my neck as his thrusts become even more powerful. “Baby! Mmhm baby!" I shrieked as he smirked against my lips.

 I felt him become even harder as his thrusts became more wild.

“Yea, you feel dat shit don’t you?.. Uh-huh, you got my shit all rocked up and hard as fuck. Now make me cum Mia,” Jey challenged as he skillfully rolled us over with me now on top.

Oh! Fuck! Yes!,” I exclaimed at the new position and angle as I began riding his dick hard.

Happy about the new mission he gave me, I planted my feet on the bed and put my good knees to work as I rode his dick my hands planted on his stomach for leverage.

“Damn, you got them good knees, fuck! You betta do dat shit,” Jey praised as my pussy clenched around him as I bounced with wild abandon enjoying the powerful ride myself.

Jey’s growls and moans made me feel like the most powerful woman in the world.

“Shit, you ridin’ dat dick, Yea, show me how you love dat shit,” Jey said slapping me on the ass now meeting my thrusts.

Leaning over, now on my knees riding him, I grasped his neck gently kissing him before moving my kisses to his neck.

A powerful moan escaped his lips as I felt his arms pulling me close.

“Cum for me, Daddy,” I whispered nibbling on his ear as Jey moaned grabbing my face as our passion-filled eyes met.

Our pleasure reached even newer heights as we breathed and moved in sync. “I love you, Mia," he declared, reclaiming my lips as we both came together in ecstasy.

I love you too Jey,” I whimpered against his mouth as we rode the wave together, totally spent as I collapsed beside him in exhaustion as he held me close.

“Damn, you won girl,” he said as I laughed. “Nah, we both won,” I reassured him as I kissed him. “These last three days been torture,” he sighed as I nodded in agreement.  

“You gotta admit it was kinda fun,” I said as he laughed “Yea, it was, but you play dirty,” Jey said as I rolled my eyes at him. “So do you, so we’re even,” I said as we shared a chaste kiss on the lips.

“What’s wrong with you? I asked almost anxious to know what devious plan was cooking in his head as I saw the smirk on his face.

“Just know when we get this nap in I got some unfinished business to handle,” he said caressing my pussy as I gasped in pleasure. “Jey, seriously you play too much,” I whined as he smirked.

"Oh, yea, I ain't forgot, I’ma demolish dat pussy and yo’ ass ain’t gone be able to walk for a week so get ready,” Jey declared as I gulped.

He was gon’ make it hurt so good and I can’t wait.

The end

Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real 

[cheemscakecat]

I can’t help but wonder if Fritz was angrily thinking about BLU’s negligence for a moment. He had to collect himself before responding to Scout. It makes enough sense, if Scout just had a respawn failure that caused seizures.

Clearly he’s not doing well, even this early in the movie. We don’t know how many Mercenaries had life altering, scarring respawn failures that left them unable to work, but it surely happened. Fritz is really struggling to talk about it, even with Scout being a friend and a patient who needs to know. You can tell he hates to dwell on it.

The silent personality makes sense as a natural progression of that. Being stuck living with the memories and burden of Mercenaries getting mutilated despite your best efforts, being stuck reporting to people who don’t care like you.

Why not go silent and stare at the useless men to make them uneasy? To make them stop badgering you with ceaseless questions, to give yourself relief from having to revisit the trauma. Trauma that they didn’t care about or share, being the middlemen.

He was already fed up and angry, but not ready to lash out at the idiots “fixing” the respawn crisis.

He was capable of fighting well, but didn’t want to be violent. Not unless he had to be. So the injustice grew, and the anger and disgust simmered.

This was the only time Archibald and Ludwig were in the same room. He’s arguably the only merc on Blue who would have known Jules in real life, considering the respawn crisis. Soldier and Spy may have gotten their perception of Jules from what little they knew about the respawn crisis through their Medic’s words. Fritz looked at him with revulsion.

Soldier imagined Archibald as a calculating, greedy monster who let good people die, using them as pawns. Conspiring under the mask of being a good person, using that to fill his pockets with blood money. Conspiring with Redmond and Blutarch, the old fools.

Spy imagined Archibald as a simpering coward who made other people get their hands bloody while refusing to lift a finger. Someone who doesn’t care if his own men put themselves on the line, lying to them indiscriminately. Someone with cruel, evil men in his employ and those that were innocently getting used.

Fritz might not even believe that Jules is dead, considering the fact that Spy was talking/acting crazy and lying about how Scout died. That, and his quiet personality is the one who heard the funeral speech, not him. So that could mean that his natural response to a living, breathing Archibald is revulsion.

Can’t say I blame him. Jules Archibald was an awful man, and the Administrator probably had him killed like the director when he stopped making himself useful.

That still left the injustice of being used, and the rage that comes along with it. Whether Fritz preferred to be peaceful or not, those lingering emotions needed an outlet. And as RED mercenaries continued to target the healer with childish mockery and attacks; and Admin continued to be indifferent and cruel, that outlet emerged.

The personality that doesn’t hold back when it comes to a fight. The skill was there before, and so was the anger. But Fritz didn’t have a personality that was ready and willing to lash out at Users and Abusers. The vengeful one.

I think I know exactly what name he’d go by.

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with III

NSFW elements, fluffy ideas that have been ruminating in my head the past couple weeks… to the point I abandoned my main blog to create a side blog for my fav masked men

Easily having scary dog privileges w iii as your man w the slasher-esque aesthetic about him

But we all know that’s not the case

III the bf you lets you play with his rings on his hands when your anxious

Playing with his hair all. the. time! I’m talking twirling the ends, head scratchies, all of it! He hated how much it had an affect on him

He could be going on a tangent laying his head in your lap on the couch after a long day, and he’d instantly shut up melting into your touch once you started playing with his hair!

III the bf who’s love languages involved gift giving, and physical touch

would most likely buy you the most cheesiest, corniest, tourist of tourist souvenirs from each city he went to just to show you how much he thinks of you and misses you. Even if your apartment is overflowing with his little treasures and you had to invest in an a P.O. Box

Receiving ‘Daddy’s Little Meatball’ and ‘I love ___’ shirts all the time, snowglobes, and hats (you definitely got a cheesehead hat when they played in Wisconsin and a cowboy hat with feathers and a tiara when they were in Texas)

Sending you postcards with the most embarrassing, filthiest things written on them like the post men wouldn’t see it

Including but not limited to

‘Hi love, here Down Under thinking when I can I be down under you :( ”

“Visited one of the 7 wonders of the world today, you should be the 8th ;)”

“Can’t wait to show you my Big Ben again <3”

The most fashionable one of the members, every show you attend, he would try to coordinate your two outfits.

Including hairstyles… matching space buns or french braids?!? Are you kidding me?? Or even matching hair colors once in a while??

Speaking of hair, you would have to help him dye his hair, or shave his undercut late at night in the bathroom. Vice versa if you wanted the same color. Indulging on your favorite beverage or a little joint, giggling every time you would get a speck of dark/bright dye on each other. Or jokingly act like you buzzed too much hair to rile him up

He also solely has a folder on his phone dedicated to pictures (including a lot of candid off guards of just you two in your own little world backstage) taken by Adam and crew members of the two of you matching/coordinating

His phone background is of you sitting criss cross on a large equipment case looking down at him leaning against it trying to tune his bass, but his head is leaned back gazing up at you through his mask instead… both with space buns in your hair

Since your relationship couldn’t be public and be blaring obvious to most people you knew, III would get you two permanent bracelets. Yours would have a tiny ‘iii’ on it and his would have a tiny initial of your first name.

Even though he would have to profusely clean it after shows from the red body paint. It was something he was willing to do to carry this cheeky secret.

And somewhere in his favorites folder of his phone he has a picture of your tinier hand trying to wrap around his cock with the dainty chain hung displaying ‘iii’ clearly around your wrist

And ofc a pic of you two facing a mirror with his hand wrapped around your neck displaying your initial proudly on his

Which leads me into

He definitely has a size kink in all different types of aspects

Him loving the fact he was so significantly taller than you (lets face it he’s a a long fuckin string bean), and letting it be known

It always (not so) subtly came out

In his pet names for you: doll, bunny, kitten–anything small and cutesy really…even if they became so unserious or cringe

When he would just casually walk by you, and ruffling your hair calling you ‘squirt’, making you roll your eyes and scoff. (The other band members may have started to do this as well bc of III)

His adrenaline still rushing after a show, great rehearsal, or recording session barreling over to you to give you a bear hug, lifting you off the floor swinging you around profusely

you would be doing something or talking to someone, he’d catch you off guard by coming up behind you resting his chin on the top of your head, giving your shoulders a light squeeze or massage

Watching you struggle for something on a higher shelf, and waiting until you would almost give up in defeat to come up behind you making sure to press his body against the back of you as he did so to leave you flustered

Despite him being a giant, and perfect big spoon material–he wants to be lil spoon most times.

Loving your arms around his waist, feeling the soft heave of your chest pressed against his back as you slept, providing the comfort and peace he needed after a day in his busy life

He’d be in a drunken/high haze and when it would be just the two of you, he would compare his hand to yours always, smiling lazily over at you adoringly

Admire how his hand practically encapsulated the expanse of your throat when you were up against a wall or underneath him.

A small growl leaving his lips, when he tried to fit inside you loving how you squeeze him

“Fuck doll, are you gonna be able to take all of me?” He hisses, pushing your legs further apart

Or watching how’d you have to use two hands and barely fitting him into your palms when you gave him a hand job

“Baby you’re squeezing me so good.” He tries his best to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you struggle to jerk him

In conclusion, I need this man biblically.. and I got carried away and could have kept going if you guys want me to keep going I can 🤭🥹 I do plan on doing one for the others too. Reblogs, likes, and replies are always appreciated and fuels my validation

[dadvans]

Pls tell us more about pregnant Buck and baby daddy Tommy 🙏🏼

Oh, GLADLY. I spent my entire commute home thinking about this after I got this ask.

Okay, here’s everything you must know about Buckley-Kinard Baby Begins:

Buck is shitscared fucking terrified to tell Tommy when he finds out he’s pregnant, because while he knows that there are men out there who can get pregnant, Buck didn’t think or know he was one of those men. And they’ve been dating for six months, and at the four month mark they had their first ever fight, because Buck decided to say “I Love You” for the first time in the same conversation where he was asking Tommy if they could stop using condoms. They haven’t even talked about kids. Tommy, Buck reflects hysterically, is gonna think Buck is babytrapping him.

He lets himself into Tommy’s place after the doctor’s appointment. Tommy is in bed, napping off a shift, and he’s big and warm like the best desert rock that Buck’s lizard brain wants to curl up on. He crawls into bed with Tommy in a way that feels so final, because when Tommy wakes up for good and Buck lays out the news that there is a baby—and more importantly, that the second Buck found out that there was a baby he knew he wanted to keep it—he’s probably gonna ask Buck for his spare key back, block his number, and ready himself for eighteen years of child support payments.

Tommy shifts, mostly still asleep, eyes impossibly closed under the sun seeping between his bedroom window slats. He’s known Buck’s been feeling like shit the past few weeks, and would have offered to take Buck to his appointment if it weren’t for aforementioned shift. “Howwuz doctor’s?”

“Fine,” Buck says. “Tell you more when you get up.”

Which is Tommy’s cue to pass the fuck back out, which he does.

And Buck watches him sleep, and the most horrible part is that he has this fledgling hope that he’ll tell Tommy about the baby and Tommy won’t think he’s a crazy babytrapping monster and won’t kick him out and will say, you know what, yeah, let’s do this.

Buck knows what it’s like to be crushed and this hope is crushing him. He can’t fall asleep under its weight. Maybe another hour passes before Tommy wakes up, but it feels like a lifetime buried under this tiny hope.

So, he’s a fucking mess when Tommy does wake up, when Tommy says, “So, did they figure out what’s going on?” and all Buck can say is, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” He’s pregnant, he didn’t know, he didn’t think, he would’ve been smarter, he wouldn’t have asked, he’s so sorry, and he wants to have this kid, he doesn’t expect anything from Tommy, he’s sorry.

Miracle of miracles Tommy just holds him through it.

The thing is, Tommy knows he’s not a natural with kids like Buck is. It’s not that he particularly wants or doesn’t want them, but until recently he’d kind of resigned to it not being an option, never willing to tie himself to someone else like that when he was so deep in the closet, and now in his mid-forties with no real biological clock ticking it hasn't been a priority. No, he and Buck haven’t talked about kids, but he knows Buck doesn’t have a malicious or insidious bone in his body, and being with Buck has made him realize there’s this well of love inside him that goes far deeper than he’s ever known it to.

And maybe it won’t work out, Tommy is the first to admit. Maybe it is too soon for them to think this is something their relationship can survive so early in, but it’s not something he’s ready to say no to either. So maybe they carry the burden of hope together, for this life they’re making together, and they give it their best shot.

(The sex they have after this conversation is so off-the-wall bonkers crazy intense that if Buck weren’t already pregnant, well.)

Later, when Buck’s had time to process that Tommy’s not going to leave him over this, that they’re going to try and make this work, that Tommy wants to make this work as bad as he does, does Buck address the second problem that’s bothering him: Buck wants to keep working as long as he can. He can’t be side-lined again. He tells Tommy much more about the lawsuit than Tommy previously knew, the parts that Buck is embarrassed about still years later. How he can’t go back to that, or won’t, how even though they’ve finally ousted Gerrard and Bobby’s back at the helm of the 118, he’s afraid that Bobby won’t trust him and that no matter how much has changed, he’s still replaceable to the people he considers family (not healthy, Tommy doesn’t say, but he gets it).

So, Tommy’s like: let’s take a week. Let’s look into this. He’s known pregnant people in the field before, there are proper channels to consider and protections to be made before Buck has his second pregnancy-related breakdown. They support each other through the next step, and it feels auspicious and good for this whole thing working out.

Telling Bobby for real still doesn’t come as well as Buck would like it to. He babbles. He starts out by mentioning he’s done his research, and there are lawsuits (he’d like to avoid) and more recent case studies on all these accommodations that say barring complications he’d be suited to some duty through his second trimester, and—

“Wait, you’re pregnant?” Bobby asks.

Buck stammers out, “Uh yeah. It’s not—we didn’t know I was even a carrier, so it’s a surprise. That said, it’s still, you know, we know it’s early—it’s really, really early, but Tommy and I talked about it. And we want it, you know, even if he and I don’t work out at the end of the day. It’s not unwanted.”

(And there’s something to be said there about both Buck and Tommy, two men who grew up feeling unwanted suddenly bringing a new life into the world, and knowing above all else that no matter how things work out between them, they’re going to make this kid know how wanted it is.)

“Congratulations, Buck, that’s amazing,” Bobby says. Smiling in a way that Buck knows he means it, in a way that makes Buck think, is he proud of me? I think he’s proud of me. In a way that he knows that despite all his fears and their past history, Bobby trusts him on this one, will work with him, will provide the support he needs now that he knows how to ask for it.

Buck gets to go to Tommy's (home) after his shift, and when Tommy asks, Buck says, "Bobby's having me refitted for PPE in a few weeks, we're all good to go" (all three of us)

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 15

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, emotional stuff and vulnerability, fluff, angst, inaccurate navy stuff, typos for sure (fr didn't proofread tonight)

Words: 3537

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“He really didn’t call last night?” Millie finally asks. She’s been watching you out of the corner of her eye for the better half of an hour, sitting in a plastic chair on the opposite side of the gift shop’s counter as she unconvincingly flips through the pages of a bridal magazine.

The stack Millie brought to your work was an attempt to distract you so you would have something to think about other than Jake, but you’ve done nothing other than stare at the same wedding dress on the same page since Millie arrived. You can’t even say it’s a nice dress that would compliment your friend’s figure, so you’re about as useless as they come for a Maid of Honor. Dresses, flowers, bachelorette parties—it all sits nestled in the back of your mind, and you’d feel horrible for not taking the details of the wedding more seriously, but right now you’re not alone in using it as a distraction from missing the men in your lives. 

At least Millie has received some reassurance. Rooster has taken every opportunity to call her, to comfort her, to express his love. But Jake? Nothing. The most you’ve gotten is a “He’s fine, just a bit drawn into himself lately. Got a lot on his mind,” from Millie who reported that information secondhand from her fiance. 

That Jake has put you in a place of questioning is a blow to your heart, but in an effort to stay sane, you haven’t allowed yourself to create potential explanations for him in your head. He’ll reach out eventually, and when he does, you trust he’ll give you all the answers you need. 

But for now, you shake your head. 

“What is wrong with that boy?” Millie huffs, leaning back in her chair. “I was hopin’ he’d make up for his lack of calls with a beautiful handwritten letter confessin’ his love, but good lord.”

“He already told me he loves me.”

The magazine drops onto her lap. Her jaw practically unhinges. “How are you just tellin’ me this now?” she asks. “What did you say?”

Running your fingers through your hair, you close your magazine and shove it aside. “He didn’t let me say anything,” you tell her, relief washing over you at finally letting it out. “It was over the phone as they were leaving, and he hung up before I could get two words in.”

Millie sighs. “Oh, Honey.” She sits up and scoots the chair as close to the counter as possible so she can easier wrap your hand in hers. 

“You know–” she begins, but then pauses as she rethinks, “Or, well, maybe you don’t know—but you should know Jake doesn’t throw that word around lightly. I haven’t known him as long as the others, but I do know that you were a total game-changer. He told all of us that from the moment he saw you he was a goner.”

Heat floods your cheeks at hearing the words he once told you. You’ve believed him to be genuine for a long time, but it’s incredibly fulfilling to know he felt strongly enough to tell his friends before you were willing to consider your own feelings for him.

Being honest with yourself, you weren’t in the same place the first time you saw Jake. You thought he was beautiful and magnetic, and being that beautiful and magnetic, you were convinced he was going to be just as troublesome. There was no room in your mind to consider yourself a goner. Your shields were unbreakable. But now, when you replay the last few months of your life—replay the first time you really took him in, the first time his fingers touched yours—you can acknowledge that in choosing to stay here, the feelings you’ve developed for him were inevitable. Goner for goner—it just took you a moment to catch up.

Millie grins at the red tinge you can’t conceal. “He’s been Mr. Game Changer himself, hmm?”

Shooting her a look before playfully rolling your eyes, you say, “Don’t tease me about things you already know, Millie.”

“The next time he calls, do you want me to tell Bradley to knock some sense back into that pretty, blond head?”

You chuckle. “No, it’s ok,” you say. “Jake was patient with me. It’s my turn to be patient with him. He’ll come through.”

“I’m sure it'll be soon. For you, he’d–” Millie’s eyes flick just past your head. “Oh, fuck no,” she mutters as the store’s door swings open and closes from behind you. “We don’t accept trash here. Please take yourself out,” Millie sasses, making you turn in your chair. 

Brit doesn’t acknowledge the tiny redhead. Her dark eyes are darts, so focused on you she hardly blinks. For some reason, though, you don’t sense the animosity you did the last time she brought herself around. 

“It’s been a while,” she says to you.

Millie scoffs. “Not long enough.”

As much as you want to, you don’t feed into your friend’s comments. Defending you is appreciated, but you have a feeling that poking at the blonde will delay her departure, and Brit doesn’t need to be in your life and space any longer than you desire to be in hers. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask.

“I came here to say something.”

“We don’t have a good track record there.”

With arms crossed, Brit rolls her eyes. “Right, well…I was pissed.”

Millie mimics Brit’s behavior; arm-crossing, eye-rolling, and attitude included. “Award-winnin’ excuse, honey.”

“Can't you scram?”

“Can and will are two different things.”

Your eyes move to Millie. The fire within her is too powerful to die out against the challenge before her, and you’re positive the two could go on for hours if you let them, neither willing to back down. But you want Brit to get on with it. Surely she knows after her last failure that she’s unable to affect you or Jake and the plans you have with one another, all of which do not include her. So what else is there for her to bother you with?

“Millie, it’s ok,” you say, snapping the tense band of their stare-off.

Her face softens when she looks at you. Words don’t have to be exchanged for her to understand what you’re asking of her. She stands and walks to Brit with a pointed finger. “I’m gonna be watchin’ you through the window like a stalker the entire time.”

After stepping outside, she immediately turns to face the window, just as promised. 

You stand as well and brace yourself against the wall, keeping the barrier of the counter between you. “I’d love to get this over with, so what do you want to say?”

Brit takes her time, running her fingernail over the packets of gum in their display before she decides to take a seat in the vacant chair. With her legs crossed, her hands clasp in her lap. “I don’t know if you are aware, but Jake dropped by for a nice little visit a couple of days before he left,” she shares with you. Then she sighs as if bored. “He said some things. A lot of things. Bared his soul and all that shit. It was rather dramatic.” 

While shocked, you suppose you don’t need a million guesses to figure out why he would go to her before leaving you. He expressed his concerns weeks ago, and no matter how fiercely you tried to reassure him, you couldn’t snuff it out completely. You could always see it in his eyes—a dimmed but persistent flickering of worry. 

Brit yanks you from your thoughts. “You’re not ever going to let him go, are you,” she says. 

“No.”

“Yea…” She runs her tongue over her teeth, making that squelching sound you had hoped to never hear again. “He’s not going to let you go, either. He made that clear.”

You get that feeling again—that deep fulfillment from being with Jake. You could’ve lived your whole life and the adventures that come with it—from marriage to children to grandchildren, if that is what you and Jake choose—completely unaware of him working behind the scenes to protect and defend and love you. 

It seems silly to not have realized before, but you’re so new to this kind of love that inexperience has you approaching it in a fairly straightforward manner. You don’t hide your emotions or actions from Jake anymore. You’re sad, you cry, he comforts you. You’re mad, you yell, he calms you. You’re happy, you smile, and he smiles right with you. And you’ve done the same for him. Open and honest and, as you once agreed, hearts bare. 

You would do anything for Jake, and he for you, but you never considered that his affection extended past what you see. Not because it shouldn’t; that’s what love is, you know that. But the love of your past was hollow, very out of sight out of mind on their end; a disconnection that those men used to boost their egos by making fun of you to their friends or flirting with other women when you weren’t around. 

Unless taught differently, a person only knows what they've known. So the idea of Jake going above and beyond in that way simply never crossed your mind. 

“At first, I hated him for it,” Brit says, suspiciously even-toned. “Showing up at my door, desperately trying to appeal to god knows what while he repeatedly reminds me that he won’t be with me because he’s in love with you. I mean, can you believe the fucking audacity of a man to do that to a woman?”

You can, because you know hurt and embarrassment inside and out, and up and down. Without the context of their situation—were it any other man spouting off to any other woman—you could find it in yourself to feel sympathy as easily as you find your next breath. But Brit deserves the treatment she’s describing; not for the sake of cruelly getting even after the harassment she doled out, but because she needs to hear the truth of the matter from Jake’s lips. She’s in the wrong, what she has done is unacceptable, and perhaps most importantly: you are not the reason Jake doesn’t want to be with her. Whether she eventually accepts that truth or not is another thing entirely. 

“I’ve spent these weeks hating him more than I thought possible,” she says.

You shake your head. “Brit, I don’t understand where this is going, and to be honest, I’m–”

“You once asked me if I was tired,” she interrupts you, her tone raising to overlap yours. It succeeds in silencing you. “Well, I’m tired.” 

If you could find your voice, you don’t know what you would do with it. When she cornered you in the Hard Deck’s bathroom with a plethora of insults and threats, you shot back at her with few words and a final question. But considering her lack of self-reflection, it wasn’t a question you imagined she might one day reassess. 

Brit rises and straightens out her top. She gives you one final look. “So, now you know.”

Then she exits the store and disappears around the other side of the building where the sidewalk meets the street. 

“What the actual fuck was that about?” Millie asks, returning to your side.

You’re still staring at the spot where she vanished. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you start, then swallow, “But I think she’s done with us.”

—

You love all of the things that still smell like Jake. The sheets, the pillow, the interior of his truck, the kitchen because that’s the first place he’d go after putting cologne on in the morning. He lingers everywhere, and when you close your eyes, you can trick yourself into believing he’s right beside you. But after a while of sitting around the scent with your eyes closed, the illusion dissipates. If Jake was actually near you, only so much time would pass before he’d begin touching and kissing and whispering sweet things in your ear. 

“You know I can’t help myself,” he’d say. And without him here, you can’t convince the scene to play out.

It’s like a bad dream that doesn’t lose its power over you even after you wake. It’s still in your brain, in the race of your heart, in the heavy gasps from your lungs. Dreams you often have that, even when sweet and beautiful, aren’t. If they’re not full of horrible images that leave you shaking in bed, they’re reminders of good times with Jake, and it’s the good times that ache the most when they’re over.

Tonight, though, it’s not the dreams that shoot you awake. It’s the ring of your phone from an unknown number. 

When Jake first left, every unknown number that popped up on your screen jolted an electric shock through your body. But after so many telemarketers and automated calls from the apartment building updating you on temporary changes to office hours, you stopped expecting anything else. 

Grabbing your phone, you slam the tip of your finger onto the little green circle and lift it to your ear. “Seriously, calling in the middle of the night is so messed up! I told you to take me off your list!”

“What list?”

Your eyes widen, and every scrap of half-asleep grumpiness falls away at the sound of his voice. “J-Jake?”

“Hey, beautiful…”

He sounds as tired as you are, but you can practically feel the smile on his face. You’re sure it’s a weak smile, all he can muster due to the exhaustion, but it’s there and it’s for you. 

Your vision blurs and you blink and fat droplets soak into his comforter. You rub your thumb over the damp circles. “I should slap you,” you say, your nose already becoming stuffy from your tears. 

“Oh, you should do much worse than that,” he replies. You lightly chuckle, so he lightly chuckles, then silence holds until he sighs. “I’m so sorry. I miss you so damn much.”

“So much you didn’t want to call before now? It's been a long time, Jake.”

“I did want to call,” he tells you. “And I could have—I should have—but I just…I freaked out a bit.”

“Why?”

Jake sighs again, and he must’ve pulled the phone away from his face because there’s a muttering so faint you can barely hear it. But then loudly and clearly, he says, “Because I fucked up, beautiful, and I’m embarrassed. You deserved better.”

Your mouth goes dry. 

Fucked up. Fucked. Up. 

Before you can stop yourself, you catch a glimpse of what the next few moments could turn your life into. 

Fucked up. Slept with someone. Sorry. Thought I loved you. Not your fault. You can stay at the apartment until I get back. 

Pain, and heartbreak, and tears fatter than the ones you’re currently shedding. Lost trust that will never be found for anyone else. No more confidence. No more self-love. No more vulnerability. 

Twelfth new place. 

But then he says, “That’s not how I should have told you I love you.”

One sentence. A snap of the fingers and every invading thought is shoved out of your head. You breathe. Shake your head. Swipe your fingers across your cheek to wipe away the first tear brought on by what you thought was about to break your heart. 

“It’s not how I wanted to do it,” he continues. “I was going to tell you so many times in the week before I left, but I didn’t know how you were going to react. Then I thought I’d say it at the dock, but Rooster was next to me and Millie was next to you, and no way in hell was I going to have them there the first time I said that to you.

“Before I knew it, we were on the ship and it hit me that I ran out of chances. But I couldn’t go without you knowing, so I didn’t think, I just did it,” he says. “I didn’t realize how fucking lame it was until the next day. I mean, Rooster told Millie on a damn ferris wheel, and Bob…” There's a pause. “Actually, I shouldn't tell you what Bob did for his girl; it shames us all.”

Finally, he takes a breath. “Anyway, after we were gone, whenever I wanted to call you I froze up because I had no idea what you would say and how you would feel. The thought of you being disappointed with me or with something I did–”

“Jake–”

“Especially something like this—it makes me–”

“Jake, I don't care that you told me over the phone,” you manage to slip in between his words. 

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, of course not,” you snicker, running the back of your hand under your nose to clear away any snot. “What I care about is that you didn't let me respond,” you tell him. “I care that the only way I've known you're safe has been through Millie.”

This time, Jake’s sigh sounds different; one more of relief than anything. Minutes of talking has anxiety lifting off of both of your shoulders by the pounds. Jake is okay, Jake is safe, Jake still loves you. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re not so disappointed in him that you didn’t hang up the second you heard his voice. 

“Beautiful, if I could kick myself I would.”

“I’m sure you could ask one of the others to do it.”

“Anyone in particular you’d prefer to do the honors?”

You hum. “Javy never skips leg day. I’m sure he’s got a strong swing.”

Jake laughs loud enough for you to jerk your ear away from the speaker. “I’ll surprise him with the good news in the morning,” he says.

There’s a handful of things you could say in response. Cute things. Witty things. Sassy things, like requesting pictures of said kick in the ass as proof. But you don’t say those things. While you’d love to continue on the lighter path of conversation, you have more questions.

“Why didn’t you let me respond?” you ask. 

It’s amazing that you can’t see him yet you can feel his shift in attitude. As if in slow motion, you picture each phase of the bright smile disintegrating off his face.

Jake clears his throat. “You want the selfish or the less selfish reason first?”

“In that order is fine.”

“Ok. Selfishly, I didn’t want to hear you say you don’t love me,” he says. “But that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was that I just needed you to know. I didn’t care if you loved me too, I cared that you knew you were loved. 

“It was after it was out of my mouth that I realized you might feel pressured to give me a response, which I also didn’t want for you. Then the selfish part came into play because what if you responded with anything other than that you love me too? Would it have made me stop loving you? No. But it would’ve hurt…badly.”

“You honestly think that I don’t?”

“I don’t know, beautiful.”

You can see his weak smile again, and you can picture how this conversation would go if he were in front of you rather than a thousand miles away. With that smile, he’d hold your hand and brush your hair behind your ear. He’d smooth your tears back into your cheeks with his thumb because he’d hate that they’re there before he pulls you into him to kiss you. 

“You’ve been through so much,” he says. “I don’t expect you to be in love with me, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn't hurt to hear you confirm it.”

You cry a little harder for the tears that shouldn’t be shedding; for the uncertainty he’s been feeling; for the questions you’ve been asking yourself over the last couple of months. All unnecessary. All of which could’ve been solved had he given you a chance to respond or called you at his first opportunity. 

You empathize with why he didn’t. Jake may be a man who doesn’t throw the ‘love’ word around often, but you’re a woman who has refused to throw it out at all. You protect yourself that way. You maintain some semblance of power by never speaking it aloud to someone who would not reciprocate. You understand what it means to tell someone you love them when you’ve lost those you love, and you’ve refused to do it for that purpose. It’s a risk of facing more loss.

But it’s a risk Jake took that would have instantly proved worth it. You only wish he could have known that at the time.

“Jake, I–”

“Please don’t,” he stops you. “I don’t want you to say anything until I get back. Either way, I mean. If you feel how I do, or, you know…if you don’t. I’d rather not know until I’m with you again.”

“You would rather wait months to know how I feel?”

“Well, that’s the thing, beautiful,” he says. “We might be coming home sooner than expected.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle

[danganfixationronpa]

As a more in-depth continuation of my last post involving Akane Owari... (TW: mentions of sexual assault & body objectification.)

What most of the fandom sees Akane as: That air-headed girl with the big boobs who is obsessed with food and fighting. Pretty much just another Aoi Asahina.

Who Akane *really* is: A strong woman inside and out and who loves food because she realizes how important eating is after years of being homeless with countless younger siblings to take take care of, but she doesn't prioritize food *so* much to the point where she would kill any of her fellow classmates to escape the funhouse.

While not academically smart, she is highly intuitive and actually a lot more aware than people give her credit for.

While short tempered, she cares greatly about her classmates and doesn't tolerate things like murder (yes, she was a remnant of despair, but Kodaka didn't exactly write Class 77b's despair-ridden selves well at all due to putting brainwashing into the equation.) Even somebody she is constantly antagonistic towards like Nagito, she only becomes so antagonistic and violent towards him because he is putting other's lives in danger and "seemingly" showing no remorse for their fallen classmates. Even after she goes into a blind fit of range and nearly strangles him to death, when Chiaki snaps her out of it, she genuinely feels remorse and begs forgiveness.

Was willing to work hard (which is something she dislikes doing), so she could get her and her younger siblings out of the streets.

Is a survivor of sexual assault and objectification from many men in her life, but she sadly doesn't seem to understand the gravity of those situations since she casually talks about her own body in a objectifying way sometimes. But just because she doesn't realize just how serious those situations truly were in hindsight, she is a still a victim of those horrible actions.

Lastly, on a surface level, she and Hina most definitely have similarities. However, they are *far* from the same character. (I'm not going to get into the reasons why cuz this post already went on long enough 😅)

Overall, yes, some of these details are only known when playing through her FTEs, but even putting her backstory aside, all of my other points still stand.

This girl deserves more love and recognition, dammit!

EDIT: Holy, it's only been a couple of hours and this post is already getting so many likes and reblogs! Thanks, everyone! Glad to see others agree.

[zvhiux34]

(the pics aren't mine obviously)

(Read the subtitles of the song to enjoy the plot)

Pairing: YN (An Empress of Austro-Hungarian Empire ) x König as a knight/Imperial Captain of the Guard

Plot: König is the Imperial Captain of the Guard, and he posseses everything a man could desire, but he lacks the most important: you.

w.c: 1.9k

Warning: Fluff and angst. Small sexual inuendo. Maybe some inaccurate history for the sake of plot lol. English it's not my first language.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

König is the captain general of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Born into a family belonging to the low nobility, he forged his own path as a notable warrior and in the name of the empire he conquered new lands, leading battles like the good strategist that he was.

Throughout the territory and even beyond the border, his bravery on the battlefield and his achievements were well known.

With his great military bearing and an appearance that inspired fear and security, diplomacy and rudeness at the same time, from the noblest of princes to the most dishonorable of the most swindlers wanted to have him as a friend, and were wary of having him as an enemy.

In his homeland the crown deservedly rewarded his great achievements.

He certainly had everything a man could wish for: noble titles, a growing fortune, the respect of all who looked at him and above all, many women who would wish to have him as a husband.

Some would even settle for being the woman who warmed his bed for just one night, even with the risk of lost their honour and being repudiated the next morning.

But with all his virtues, König caused surprise among his subjects for not having the reputation of requiring the presence of the most daring women of the court, as other men did, whether of equal or lesser position, whether married or single.

There, kneeling where he was, in front of the thrones of their royal highnesses, König, dressed in his armour, raised his head and saw for the first time in months the main reason why no woman could capture his attention enough in this life and the next.

That place in his heart had already been reserved for years, by you.

The Empress of the empire that he had been willing to give his last breath to so many times.

König looked at you as if you were a divine apparition.

But the other subjects were not surprised by the intensity of his gaze towards you, because today you were dressed in a perfectly fitted ivory organza dress and the most brilliant jewels no other ruler had ever worn, which was a pleasant reflection of the prosperity of the empire.

In part, thanks to the knight in front of you, who, like so many times before, had today placed at your feet the loot he obtained by conquering the new lands snatched from enemy hands: A prominently treasure trove filled with shiny precious stones and gold coins that were overflowing.

Everyone was amazed at such a find, the trove was so tempting that anyone would want to put their hand in to take out anything that came out of there, and they did not take their eyes off it.

They did not realize König never looked at the trove, because he was looking at something that was much more valuable to him than a thousand conquered kingdoms.

—Your imperial majesties —König finally spoke —I give you at your feet the treasure found from the last successful conquest in the name of this magnificent empire, I wish nothing more than for it to be pleasant for you.

He thought for a moment you had detailed him to make sure he was not injured, as so many other times.

But what caught his attention the most was how your characteristic smile appeared on your face, a smile with hints of tenderness and complacency.

König would be willing to return to the battlefield and fight until death finally reaches him, if that would guarantee that you would never lose your smile.

— As usual, we are very pleased with your work and your effort —You assured. It was well know to you König is a great knight and captain, he has been quite helpful to this empire during all his years of service.

At least this way, you can see him from time to time.

Your voice in his ears was like a sweet melody to his ears, like a lullaby in the middle of the storm... But said melody was finally interrupted by another voice, König turned his attention to it out of respect while masterfully hiding the look of reluctance that tried to dominate his face.

—For your last work for the imperial crown, I, the Emperor of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, have decided to grant you for your faithful work and commitment to the kingdom... the Duchy of Prague, congratulations —Announced the man who was sitting next to you, the man who owned the only thing König longed for.

The rest of the subjects were impressed by such a concession, especially by the Emperor's gesture, which indicated anything but complacency.

Although he recognized the work of the captain in charge (and found it difficult to admit it out loud) it was known he was not entirely happy with it.

Through the halls of the palace, rumors were circulating that long ago, when you were still a princess...you had maintained a friendship with the current imperial captain, there was even talk of courtship and even wedding plans.

But all that fell apart thanks to the advisors, who found König unsuitable for such plans. However, the friendship prevailed over all these years.

And that's why, most of the duchies the captain general now possessed were thanks to your intervention, as a thank you for König's hard work.

Any of the subjects present would kill anyone to wear the fine leather shoes he was currently carrying.

Internally, König laughed quietly.

Firstly because of the slight discontent his Emperor let slip by granting him the title of one of the most important counties.

Second, because despite all this time, you still thought... by granting him lands and properties he could one day fill the void of not being able to be by your side, and be the man with the legitimate right to be called “Your husband” and to walk arm in arm with you, as you were doing right now, as you and the Emperor stood up to head for the exit on the fine red silk carpet, while your attendant staff followed faithfully behind.

Night fell on the Hofburg Imperial Palace, and König could still hear from the rococo-style room that had been arranged for him, the murmur of the melody of the instruments and the people dancing to their rhythm in the great ballroom.

Tonight, a party was being held in honor of the new conquest, but after the banquet where König never took his eyes off your face, he successfully excused himself by assuring that he would like to rest after the busy days he had lived.

The Emperor, delighted he did not have to fight before him for the attention of others, did not insist and allowed him to leave, instead you looked at him with a certain concealed concern, while you wondered if perhaps the wounds from the battle were responsible for his tiredness.

Already lying on his soft bed, in the company of the candlelight that contrasted with the cold light of the moon that peeked through the window, König could finally accept to himself that he would have liked nothing more than to be able to attend the celebration.

But only to be able to dance the traditional Austrian dances with you, and see you laugh and enjoying the dance while he took advantage of the glorious moment to be able to be close to you, inhale your soft rose scent and touch your silky skin even if it was through the fabric, without running the risk of receiving repression from others.

But that was a thing of the past when you were still a princess and he was "The simple son of a Baron" as he once heard someone refer to him, in these times before you married the current Empeoror.

Since then, protocol reserved that privilege only for him, as well as being able to talk about thousands of things for hours in the privacy of the rooms of this palace and walk until you got lost in the beauty of the gardens.

He remembers how, on one of those walks, he discovered one of the most wonderful beings he had ever met, listening to the way you see life through your eyes, the way you express yourself towards nature, towards other people and the beauty of things... and the way you blushed when he confessed he's feelings for you.

König longed for those beautiful moments with you that were left in a past he did not want to let go.

Now he could not do any of those things without it meaning a lack of respect for your honor... and for that Emperor.

If he could have had the honor of being your husband, he could thus send to hell the hundreds of rules of protocol that involve the treatment of you towards him, and they could do so many things under this sky...

He would fight to give you entire kingdoms with their wonders included simply for being who you are, without having to disguise the fact as a consideration of a knight towards his Empress.

Together you would go to see the parts of the world you two have only known through books and paintings. Now, he is the only one of you two who has known those places.

He would show you the thousands of diversions that exists out there, you would dance all night long until your feet give out, and above all...

You would no longer walk alone through the gardens with only your ladies as your company, nor would you spend even one lonely night in your cold bed... As you do now, and as you probably will tonight, while the Emperor is busy having fun with the ladies that König rejects all the time at court.

But all those wishes were just that, an impossibility for his heart.

And all because you became the first in the line of succession, and the position König had at that time was not important enough to be worthy of being the man who accompanies you, making their union impossible forever.

That's why he decided not to marry.

Why? He didn't want to agree to marriage if he couldn't do it with the only woman he ever loved and the only one he'd ever want to be able to do it with.

He conceived the marriage with some other woman for whom he barely felt any appreciation as something unnatural, despite the pressure from his family and everyone around him to silence the rumors of the court, of the alleged jealousy the Imperial Emperor felt towards a simple captain of the guard.

«What an irony» he thought, the most powerful person in this kingdom felt intimidated by him, the captain of the guard.

While the only thing he wants from the emperor is not his dynasty, his power or his treasure chests...

He simply wants his wife.

Not the empress of this damned empire.

He only wants you.

In his heart he will die being married to you, since this cruel and vain world did not allow it.

It was the last thing König thought of until his tiredness was stronger than him, imagining you dancing in your majestic ivory dress while you sketched the smile that you showed to your subjects, to hide the misfortune that reigned behind your gaze.

Sadly for him, he has also heard the rumors about you.

[1for5]

yes im changing

paige bueckers x reader

(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)

synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?

masterlist

chap 4

y/n pov:

okay scratch that. i would have to do all athletes. okay new research:

a comparative research on the academic resilience of students and students part of the basketball team in the university of connecticut.

much better. i can have more focus on the people in my research. and plus, the basketball teams are the most known in uconn, which could make them have different perspectives. but first.. i would have to ask their coach first. i may ask aubrey if she can bring me to their coach, his name is coach geno..?

after their training (and an hour of peyton giggling), i went up to aubrey and told her about my research.

“yeah! i could definitely ask coach geno, he’s in the other room though to get his stuff, but he’ll come back soon” aubrey replied with enthusiasm. “thats great! thanks aubrey. i would also have to ask the men’s basketball coach, but ill check tomorrow since its already late” i mentioned. aubrey and i got to talk a little bit more, aubrey asking me why i was even in their training the first place.

i said that peyton’s crush is in the team, which made aubrey laugh. when we both looked behind to peyton, we see her talking to azzi. smooth ass..

coach geno finally got out of the other room, and aubrey introduced me to him.

“oh coach! this is y/n, and she has a small favor to ask” aubrey says. “hello coach geno! i am a freshman taking psychology, and i wanted to ask if i could have your team to be part of my research” i smiled.

“what’s it about?”

“their resistancy in regards to their school work sir”

“will it hinder their skills?”

“no sir”

“how long will this take?”

“maximum of a month i believe, but it still depends”

“as long as the team says yes and it wont be a distraction, then im all for it. goodluck y/n, and welcome to uconn!” coach geno replied with a small smile. “thank you sir! it means a lot” i smiled back.

i went back to peyton, who was talking to azzi, and introduced me to her. azzi then introduced me to the other players— to nika, kk, paige, and caroline. i guess i still needed a formal greeting even with the event that happened yesterday.

i then proceeded to ask the whole team about my research idea, and they were all willing to help me. just needed to contact the men’s basketball team now.

after small talks, we all headed back to our dorms. i feel better with the team already, they’re all quite playful, just have to ignore that one blonde, paige. we haven’t talked a word to each other, and i won’t mind if we don’t talk at all.

when we arrived to the dorms area, we all bid our goodbyes to some of the members and the others headed to the same dorm building as me. turns out that everyone that has the same dorm as me lives on the same floor as me.. this will be fun. my “floormates” are nika, ashlynn, ice, kk, and paige. azzi along with caroline and the others were at another dorm building.

we all bid our goodnights, and aubrey and i went inside our dorm. we both were too tired, and got unready and head to our beds quick.

“goodnight y/n!”

“goodnight aubs”

the next week

the last days were great. men’s basketball team is on board with my research, and my introduction and rrl is surprisingly done.

today, i will start to interview the women’s basketball team, and i am thinking of doing observations with them as well— like having group study sessions and know their behavior and thoughts.

its now 2pm, two hours before the team’s training, which gives me enough time to interview some people. i text aubrey saying that im near their court, and was asking who i can interview first.

aubrey: paige is free

goddamn it.

oh well, let’s just get this over with. i open the court’s entrance, the team seeing me and greeting me.

“so, who can go first?” i ask the team, i really didn’t want paige, she will just give me negative energy for the rest of the day. she is always so.. negative towards me.

“i dont think we can.. coach wants us to do 25 laps as penalty! but since paige wasn’t there when the team was goofing around.. she’s free” azzi explained. “what did you guys even do that made coach geno be in fumes?” i asked.

“teased coach about paige dating on of his children.. they’re our age though” aubrey steps in. “oh id send you guys to 25 laps as well” i joked. “whatever!” azzi says.

i told paige to come with me the the bleachers, still being nonchalant.

“so where do we begin..” i hummed. i could feel that paige felt awkward

“name?” i started.

“paige bueckers”

“year?”

“im a junior”

she’s 2 years older than me.

“current gpa?”

“3.9”

not bad.

“workloard in school?”

“atleast 5 worksheets and 2 tests per week”

“can you finish them on time?”

“depends”

“what’s your hardest subject?”

“chemistry”

“favorite subject?”

“anatomy”

“okay that’s all for now. we still have more interviews in the future, and a possible group study session with the others. thank you!” i tell paige.

“thanks” paige coldly replies.

after an interview with aubrey, azzi, and the others, i wrapped it up, just in time for them to do their own preps before training. i was looking for a water dispenser as i was thirsty. i passed by the locker room and heard a voice.

“what is she even doing here? can’t she do her studies somewhere else? we don’t need her bro” the voice stated, which i think was pertaining to me.

“paige, just be kind. its a freshman’s research, you know how tough some professors are with the freshmans, they would have to give their best” another voice replied back.

“whatever, let’s just get to practice” paige scoffs. i rolled by eyes and realized that it was my signal to go, i didn’t want them to see me. i quickly got my water and got out of the court, thanking coach geno and the other members who were just sitting on the bleachers.

as i walk, i start to feel discouraged. i just want to do what’s best for me, and a person who doesn’t know me just talks bad about what im doing. i guess i just have to suck it up, i have no time for negativity anyways. just focus on being able to transfer to stanford.

uconn, your star is not-so shining to me.

- zo’s notes: hello, i hope everyone is enjoying reading my fic :)