#but it's good she now does what she loves the most

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife poited look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even mor with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thoguht on how life were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wisky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thoguht all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propuse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the forker pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[ellecdc]

hii if youre up for it i’d love to see something like potter!reader x sirius or potter!reader x barty from james’ pov where he starts noticing that either of the boys is falling in love with his sister? love you kisses have a good day 💘💘

thanks for your request, doll! this was fun hahaha <3 <3

Sirius Black x Potter!reader when James realizes his friend's in love [1.4k words]

CW: fem!reader, reader is James' twin, siblings, fluff, Regulus hates Peter for no reason [or is there.......], oblivious reader, James outs Sirius in front of everyone

James Potter was something of an aficionado when it came to love. 

It all started with his parents who loved each other and him unconditionally, and who he loved in turn. 

Then it was his sister; his twin, his built in best friend, his partner in crime, his confidante. Arguably the very first love of his life. 

He loved his friends, and loved being loved by them in turn. The second love of his life; the Marauders. 

He loved romance and pining and flowers and Lily - of course; who would spend six years chasing after the same witch who seemingly harboured nothing but disdain for you if they didn’t love love? 

So yeah, James Potter was something of an aficionado when it came to love.

Which is why his ears positively perked when he noticed the most peculiar symptoms of such love in his best mate. 

It started when the group would talk about upcoming parties and dances, and Sirius would get this wistful and distant look on his face. 

“Anyone you want to invite, Pads?” Pete had asked as they planned their Halloween party, eyes glued to the invite list in his lap and missing the way Sirius’ cheeks flushed and he lowered his gaze to his lap. 

James didn’t miss it, however, nor did he miss how Sirius stole a nervous glance at him before clearing his throat and saying “just make sure not to invite any wankers and we’re good, yeah?” 

“What? You mean you want us to take Snivellus off the list?” Remus had joked, and the group fell back into their lively banter. 

The peculiarities continued when they got home for the holidays, and Sirius blushed something fierce when his dad hung some sprigs of mistletoe in various archways throughout the manor. 

“Dad, you must be charming them to follow Sirius around; this has to be his sixth mistletoe?” You laughed as you brushed past Sirius, shaking your head at Fleamont Potter who seemed a touch too smug at simply having ensnared Sirius in one of his traps (again). 

“Now, why would I do such a thing?” Fleamont chuckled innocently, earning him a gentle swat from his wife. 

“Go on, my little lioness; put the poor boy out of his misery.” Euphemia encouraged you as she took pity on said poor boy now hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

You made a show of it - grumbling about your trouble-loving family who couldn’t ease up on the pranking even over the holidays for Merlin’s sake - before pressing a smacking kiss to the long-haired boy's cheek.

“There ya go, Pads; you’ve been freed.”

And Sirius - notoriously brash and haughty - simply cleared his throat, muttered a quick “thank you, trouble” and hurried off towards his bedroom. 

Then, James was almost positive Sirius was going to simply combust on New Years.

“Why me?” He nearly shrieked at James.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense!”

“How does me kissing your sister make sense, Prongs?” He asked; bewildered.

“Well because I can’t kiss her.” James explained simply; Sirius didn’t seem to find it all that simple. “This will only work if we all follow the buddy system.” 

“The buddy system is rigged.” Peter pouted as he fell back into his chair. 

“How is it rigged?” James asked.

“You and Marlene are the only ones who get to kiss your crushes!” Sirius argued.

Remus murmured something that James thought sounded suspiciously like “Are you sure about that, Pads?” which earned him a hasty elbow in the ribs from his friend. 

“Why can’t Remus kiss trouble at midnight?” Sirius countered, causing James to groan.

“Because you can’t kiss Regulus!”

“I’ll kiss Regulus.” Peter volunteered.

“Can’t.” James refused. “Reg hates you.”

“Reg hates me?”

“Yeah, said something about your ‘beady little eyes’ freaks him out; says he doesn’t trust you.” Sirius agreed. “Besides, I can’t kiss Mary because of that whole-”

“-fiasco back in fourth year, right, so we’re back to my buddy system.” James concluded.

The buddy system really had been foolproof; James would kiss Lily (obviously), Marlene would kiss Dorcas (of course), Mary would kiss Peter (who would then blush furiously for the rest of the evening), Remus would kiss Regulus (who would pretend to hate it but would also blush furiously for the rest of the evening), and Sirius would kiss you! 

But it was two hours before the party and Sirius was doing one of his thorough party preps - a full shower, shave, moisturize, immaculately styled hair, a fresh coat of black nail polish, perfectly curated jewelry laid out on his dresser, and a peptalk in the mirror.

“Merlin, Pads. Are you expecting David Bowie himself to show up tonight?” James asked from the doorway, causing Sirius to actually yelp and drop his favourite bottle of cologne.

“Godric’s balls, Prongs.” Sirius muttered as he picked the bottle back up and replaced its cap. “Can’t I just want to look nice going into the New Year?” 

And James couldn’t really find any fault with that, so he didn’t argue.

As expected, Peter found it hard to make eye contact with just about anyone for the rest of the party; round cheeks positively tickled pink well into the early morning hours. Regulus glared at anyone and everyone who deigned to even look in his direction as his alabaster skin took on the hue of one of Euphemia Potter’s roses, but dutifully stuck close to Remus’ side for the rest of the party (who did not seem at all displeased by his new shadow). 

Yet, unexpectedly, Sirius’ cheeks also took on the colour of his beloved Hogwarts house and could be found smiling shyly down at his lap or fiddling with the various rings adorning his hands for the remainder of the party. 

But the pivotal moment had been James’ birthday.

Which was also your birthday, but this is James’ story - okay? 

Your birthday blissfully fell on a Hogsmeade weekend, and you were all determined to make the most of it. 

In lieu of gifts, your friends travelled with the two of you from shop to shop, letting you pick out some sweets (or, in James’ case, pranking supplies) on them. It wasn’t until James turned to say something to Sirius in Zonko’s that he realised he wasn’t even there. 

“Oi! Where’d Pads go?” He called to Peter, causing Lily and Marlene to share a knowing look.

“Erm, I think he and Remus took Y/N to Tomes & Scrolls.” Peter offered quickly before turning his attention back to the new batch of dung bombs in front of him. 

Except when they got to Tomes & Scrolls, Remus was leaning against the stone building and enjoying a cheeky smoke as you and Sirius - both flushed and giggly - exited the store.

James let that slide, though.

What he couldn’t let slide, however, was when the lot of you got to The Three Broomsticks and he watched Sirius actually pull your chair out for you.

“Okay, what the bloody hell is going on here?” James called over the group, causing everyone to exchange looks that ranged from concerned to bemused to exasperated.

“Erm…we’re…celebrating your birthday?” Marlene tried as if that were really quite obvious.

“No, I mean you.” He clarified, gesturing to Sirius. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What are you on about, Prongs?” Sirius asked flippantly as he took a seat beside you.

Beside you. 

You.

Oh my gods.

“Oh my gods.” James let out with a breath. “You’re in love with her.”

“James…” Someone to his right hissed, but it was too late.

“You’re in love with Y/N!” He continued unfazed. 

“Classy, James; real nice.” Remus muttered as he forced James down into his seat with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Would you stop making a scene?”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I haven’t exactly told her yet either, have I?” Sirius hissed severely, causing James’ eyes to dart to you. 

Your mouth hung open as you looked at Sirius in shock, and Sirius had the grace to appear rather contrite. 

“Sirius Black is in love?” You deadpanned, accepting his grimace and a nod of his head yes as an acceptable answer. 

“With me?” You continued, voice travelling quite high at the end of your sentence, hinting at a touch of giddiness and giving Sirius enough confidence to reopen his eyes.

“I…yes?” Sirius asked, shooting James a concerned look. 

James watched then as your expression fell from shock to a cautious disbelief before finally landing on a gentle sort of smug.

“Well,” you started, voice haughty and sounding not unlike Sirius did after pulling off a successful prank, “happy birthday to me, I guess!”

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[iamluzgar]

I completely disagree...

Veilguard has the following themes explored: leadership (through Rook's journey, factions, gods, Solas), corruption (of people, of gods), myths (how the myths from Thedas were changed from the original story that we now know), traumas (of losing someone, of being raised violently in a family, of losing your family, of being invaded, of being molded into a specific person, of being betrayed, of being forced to do actions you don't want to do, of duty, of accepting the past of your people), invasion and resistance (of the blight, of the Antaam, of the gods), family (through Lucanis and Taash, but also through the way Neve considers the Shadow Dragons, through Bellara), identity (through Taash, Lucanis, Harding, to an extent to Emmrich), culture (through Taash again, Bellara, but also through the way older games gave us so much propaganda about Tevinter, because they only hear about the upper classes, and we actually get to experience a bit of its culture ingame), the fake division between spirit/demon (through Solas and Spite), blood magic (through the old elven gods and Solas), old elven magic, fade, death (through Emmrich in something that specifically targets the player: "how would you like your remains to be dealt with?"), mourning (Not gonna go into that one but you know several people who die during the game), chronic illness and/or terminal illnesses, the dwarves' past and culture. I probably forgot a lot more.

Like... Does the game asks you whether slavery is wrong or not? No, but the answer to that is obvious, it event shows you slaves and it is sickening. Does the game asks you to take a stand pro/against magister? No, but the answer to that is obvious. Does the game asks you whether we should believe in Andrastian religion? No, but the whole DAI situation showed that the Andrastian church was bullshit already, we know it is, and we know how much now from Veilguard. Does the game asks you to take a stand pro/against magic? I think we're past that point now. We know magic is a nuanced topic and that mages shouldn't be oppressed for who they are. We know there are cultures and society allowing them to thrives without being imprisoned. Those aren't complex sociopolitical issues, those are things that were explored and resolved in other games with a clear yes/no question. Dorian sided against slavery, because he learnt it was bad. At this point everyone and their mother know it's bad. We don't actually need artifically made points like in DA2 where, if you help the mages, they still fuck you up to make you consider maybe they don't deserve the right to exist (I love DA2, it's my fav, but that is not a deep serious political idea).

One point very positive Point of Veilguard is its nuance to the question it was visiting during the game. Should Harding try to commit to her kindness in the face of intense general trauma, or should she accept her anger? Should Taash go towards the Qun or should she go towards Rivain culture? Should Emmrich go Lich or should he keep Manfred? Should Bellara keep her culture's past or should she keep it? Those are all question that have no good answer, because they all come with nuances, with no clear yes/no question, with happiness and possible fulfillment in all cases. Just like in real life, and it's up to you, the player, to make an arbitration of whether you would live preferably in such a way or in another way for your characters. It's a personal discovery journey of what it means to be a person, a leader, a hero, of different pasts, colors, genders, family status, traumas, duties etc. Of making a choice and owning it, for the bad and the good. Veilguard is probably one of the most emotionally mature AAA game in the history of gaming, and we're AGAIN (hello DA2) gonna have to wait 10 years before people realize it.

Like sure, it's not perfect, it's rushed, it doesn't feel like 10 years has been put into it, some stuff in gameplay, level design and UI inventory aren't right, some narration choices aren't great, their choice of focus is debatable, you can't even be a healer mage. But on the themes, thesis, sociopolitical and larger issues? I completely disagree. They also matured in their game design quite a lot in regards to open worlds, quests and its number, and little QoL things I don't remember that made me go "aaah... That's great design". It's just not how we imagined it would be. And yes, me too, I would have loved to have a DA2 in Minrathous, making havroc freeing slaves and beating the shit out of magisters with Fenris, this would have been my favorite thing. This isn't what happened, the game is still very good, it still has incredible qualities if you take it for what it is and engage with the story, the characters and the environment.

I'm realizing there are 3 types of Dragon Age fans.

1) Gamers who play latest big flashy action game

2) UwU kissy dating and besties simulator

3) Interested in the sociopolitical and theological themes and thesis statements the series is historically known for

Veilguard is not made for fan #3. It is a very pretty game that has absolutely nothing it wants to say--to the point that what it says by saying nothing is often times pretty offensive.

[starlighttsv]

Milestones - p.b

Sum: short milestones with your daughter

Warnings: fluff

Note: I don’t know if I like this, I might delete and rewrite later 🥲 requested by @melpthatsme

Pair: stepmom!Paige x mom!Gfreader

Wc: 1.5k

You and Paige have now been dating for 4 years, you guys met when your baby girl was 4 months old and you were just a month single.

Your baby daddy isn’t in either of your lives since you left him as he…isn’t the best person to be around. Meeting Paige and getting into a relationship with her was all new to you. She treated you like a Queen, she spoiled you and your daughter, she didn’t make you get up at 3-4 in the morning to clean - actually she let you sleep in until how ever late you wanted - taking care of your daughter while you slept, she didn’t make you cook when you didn’t feel like it, she didn’t make you go out and do her errands for her. All like your ex did, instead you both took 50/50 on everything and that was new to you. You’ve only had two exs but those two exes? Most terrible things to exist.

Not only was the way of your guy’s relationship new to you but also dating a girl is new to you. You’ve only ever been with guys so everything was a learning process that Paige was happy to help with.

She’s loved your daughter like she was her own since you introduced them and she’s been the greatest figure to be in Gracie’s life since. She always wants to read books to her, take her to practice, film TikTok’s with her, she loves being a parental figure to Grace even if she’s not biologically her mom.

She’s been there for every milestone - something your baby daddy can’t say. Her first steps,

You and Paige were laying cuddled up on the couch watching Grace crawl on the floor adventuring and messing with things, “thank you for letting me be a part of her life” Paige mumbles into your ear making you look up at her face “thank you for letting us be in your life” you say holding eye contact with her

She just smiles a little bit and leans in kissing you on your lips, you guys pull away after a few seconds and turn back to watching grace - the only difference from then and now is that she’s now standing up on her feet holding the table under the tv.

You and Paige both gasp a little immediately sitting up wondering if todays the day she takes her first steps - she’s been standing up for the last 4 days but she would plop down a little bit after - something she hasn’t done yet.

“Come here baby, come to mama” you say in your overly excited baby voice clapping your hands so her attention is on you. Which does work - her eyes find you and Paige and she immediately has a cheeky smile on her face

Paige gets up from the couch walking to the kitchen and grabbing some baby snacks the grace likes and sits down on the carpet leaving a big gap in between her and grace

“C’mere princess, I have your treats” Paige starts bribing making you laugh but also get off the couch and sit next to Paige

When Grace sees you together and the treats she lets go of the table and starts taking a few steps, making you and Paige cheer

“That’s it, good job baby, c’mere” Paige says holding out both her hands one holding the snacks and one free

Grace immediately grabs her hand with snacks and starts eating them while Paige pulls her to sit on her lap so she doesn’t lose balance

Her first words,

It was gonna be a late practice for Paige and the team so you decided to make some snack bags for them and drive to gampel to give them their bags, so that’s what you’ve been doing for the last 3 1/2 hours.

Making goodies and putting them in baggies while grace happily bounces away in her bouncer while watching bluey.

After you had everything bagged and put in a container to easily carry you loaded up the car and put Grace in her car seat - driving to gampel and going to the practice gym. Geno loves you and Grace so when he sees you walk in he calls for a 5 minute break allowing everyone to see you and grace.

Paige walks over to you and kisses you before going to the front of the stroller and folding the blanket back so she can see Grace “hi Gracie baby” Paige says in her baby voice picking Grace up and holding her to her front

All of the girls huddle around you guys all just talking and laughing, Paige passed Grace off to Caroline letting her hold Grace while paige went back you and brought you into her side “how was your day?” Paige asked you while the other girls we’re talking and gushing over Gracie

“Good, I spent the last few hours baking” Paige just turned her head to look at you “oh yeah? Baking what?”

“Cookies and brownies. I made you guys all baggies.” You say holding up one of the baggies from the container in the stroller to show Paige

She grasps the bag opening it and looking inside “aww baby you didn’t have to do this” Paige says bringing you closer into her side and kissing you on the forehead “I wanted to. I knew it was going to be a late practice and Gracie wanted to see you” you say into her side looking up at her

She just leans down and kisses you but you guys get interrupted “ma…mama”

You both immediately look at Gracie seeing she’s holding her hands out for both of you while the UConn girls have gone quiet and was also just looking at Gracie

Her first day of kindergarten,

You and Paige were already up at 6 in the morning because you both were nervous for Gracie’s first day of kindergarten even though you guys didn’t have to leave until 7:30

“What if the kids don’t like her and bully her?” you say starting to chew on your nails

“Babe, baby hey” Paige says walking up to you and taking your hand from your mouth holding them in hers “the kids will like her and even if they don’t who cares what they think? If they start bullying her we’ll file a complaint ok? She’s gonna do just fine” Paige says pulling you into her arms and kissing you on the forehead

Eventually once time passed it was time for kindergarten, Paige got Gracie dressed and ready while you made breakfast, while she was eating the eggs and sausage you made her - you where packing her lunch while paige was packing her backpack

Once everything was done you and paige both grabbed all of your stuff and all of Gracie’s and headed out to the car. Paige was driving to the elementary school and then was gonna drop you off at your building and then head to the gym. You were trying not to cry the whole way to the elementary and paige noticed like she always does, and put her hand on your thigh rubbing her thumb in comforting circles.

When you guys got to the school you both got out with Paige grabbing Graces bag while you unbuckle her and set her on the ground

“Alright baby, be good and have a good day alright?” She just nods and hugs you and then hugs Paige

You and Paige both talked to her teacher that was standing outside before letting Gracie leave into the building with her.

Paige immediately pulls you into a hug once she knows Gracie can’t see you both anymore

“She’s gonna be fine”

Or when shot her first basketball

Paige has been trying to teach Gracie basketball for the last 3 days now, it’s only taken this long because Paige is letting her confidence speak rather than her soft maternal voice speak and that’s causing so much confusion for the toddler

Currently Paige has been trying to teach her defense - trying to go easy on Gracie as there is a gaint height difference…obviously

But once she realized that wasn’t working started trying to teach her to shoot, making Gracie stand on a diy free throw area

“Alright bend your knees and put your arms like this” Paige says moving Gracie’s arms in the position they should be in

“Alright now shoot” Paige says stepping away from Gracie and watching her jump up and release the ball, watching it make its way to the small plastic basketball hoop you guys have in the living room

“Yesss” Paige cheer’s running up to Gracie and picking her up and starts ticking her “you just shot your first basket”

Paige is running around with Gracie in her arms cheering and smiling and Gracie is laughing away in her arms, you just watch them lovingly from the couch.

So you couldn’t care less about your baby girl growing up without a father because she has Paige, and yes Paige isn’t her father but she is an amazing mother to Gracie. So what that she has two moms. She’s learning way more with two moms then she would’ve with just one mom and a deadbeat father.

[dooberific]

I absolutely love your writing!! Idk if you're open for request, but if you do, can I request doctor!reader with Harumasa? He loves to go to infirmary not only he can pretend to be sick but also just to see them

Double trouble cause I thought it sounded like a fun combination. Does using a 1988 song name as the title make me sound old? 🤔

❝ 𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ❞

harumasa x afab!doctor!reader

genre: fluff, I projected a little bit into this???

summary: if being in love with your cute doctor wasn’t bad enough, she’s completely clueless when it comes to romance

wc: 1.6k

The end of your pen tapped thoughtfully against your plush lower lip as you skimmed your notes. Once. Twice. Your eyes dart to the opened paper file on the counter beside you.

 Even cracked it was a solid two inches high and crammed full of health histories, specialty consult results and prescription sheets all bound haphazardly with what looked like ties from a bread bag. You really needed to get an actual binder to hold it all, but as of now you had other problems to address.

“Well,” you swiveled your chair around as you clicked your pen, eyes still skimming your intake sheet before you looked up with a smile, “Good news is nothing seems to be wrong. Well, let me rephrase that, wrong when compared to your baseline.” 

It was an important differentiation to make when you were dealing with one of your most tasking patients. In your two years of clinic practice in the city you had never needed to spend a series of days pouring over a patient file, heck, even before you graduated and were staged as a resident in the clinic in the Outer Ring it wasn’t so extensive. 

Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome was a bad actor, and Asaba Harumasa seemed to be its favorite role to haunt. 

He coughed pitifully, a hand splayed over his chest as he shook his head. “Are you sure, Doc? My body’s aching all over and my head feels funny, and I—,” he coughed again, “can’t seem to shake this cough.” 

You frowned, scribbling another note on your papers. “Have you been taking all your medications as indicated?”

“Just as the doctor ordered…actually,” a pensive expression decorated his face as he fisted the fabric of his work shirt, “maybe I have a deficiency in something, I think I ran out of some of my vitamins.” 

You perked up immediately, flipping quickly to his laundry list of medication and supplements. “Which one have you been missing? A? C? K?”

“I think it was vitamin you.”

“Oh.” You pulled your prescription pad off the desk. “I’m going to write you an order for  Vitamin U. Try adding some cruciferous veggies to your diet, leafy greens, broccoli, stuff like that. Call me if it starts giving you stomach problems.”

You tore the slip off your pad as you extended it to him, the paper decorated in your curling and messy script. 

“Do you need a work excuse?”

Should he just quit? This was the question he asked himself every time he stepped out the door of the clinic back onto the street, paper bag of medication in his hand. 

White coat syndrome was a very real affliction, though his heart wasn’t racing and his blood pressure wasn’t spiking because he was anxious. After the fourth visit you just assumed it was his baseline response to see his pulse spike randomly through the exam, after all, his syndrome mainly seemed to impact his heart and lungs. 

What you didn’t know was that wasn’t his baseline, nor was it a mutation of his syndrome not documented by his past physicians. It was simply a biological response to something else you conveniently seemed to not notice: the raging interest he had in you.

Rest assured he was absolutely mortified when he figured it out himself, laying on his back staring at the ceiling in the dark as he realized he was enthralled by the very idea of you. Your intelligence, your nimble hands, the way you tapped your pen against your lips when met was a challenge you hadn’t quite deciphered, your warm smile.

It wasn’t a complete lie when he would tell you he felt feverish, or that his stomach felt sick and his heart was racing, he felt all those things with horrifying clarity tenfold when your hand pressed against his forehead after noting aloud that his skin seemed flush and clammy. 

Was it crossing a line to be flirting with your doctor? Definitely, he was sure he was toeing some doctor-patient professional relationship line, but if he ended up in someone else’s care later then there really wasn’t anything holding him back. 

But he was growing increasingly convinced that if you weren’t intentionally playing dumb that you might be a little thick when it came to the nuanced science of flirtation because he had shifted from casual to nearly outright and you never batted an eye.

How else could you have misinterpreted his texts from last week? He was half-giddy with excitement, sure he had you this time.

I miss you.

Your appointment isn’t until next week, you didn’t miss anything. Have a good night :)

It haunted him nearly as much as the day he forgot his work excuse and asked you to text it to him, how proudly he had flipped the phone screen to show Tsukishiro until she squinted and asked, “Why do you have heart emojis around your doctor’s name?”

A devastating blow to his ego. But so was every failed attempt to catch your eye. 

“Do you have an inhaler? Cause you just took my breath away.”

“Hold on, I’ll grab one from the cart. You’re supposed to carry your own inhaler, Mr Asaba!” You scolded, disappearing for a moment before tossing him an inhaler. 

“You look a little under the weather yourself, Doc. Sure you aren’t deficient in vitamin M E?”

“Ah, I didn’t put as much makeup on today.” You cupped your cheeks with your hands thoughtfully. “I feel fine though, thanks for your concern.” 

“I’m no organ donor, but I’d love to give you my heart.”

“Your medical condition prevents you from joining the organ donation program.” You didn’t even bother to turn around when you acknowledged him.

“I think my heart just skipped a beat when I looked at you.”

“You’re on a medication that regulates heart rhythm, should I write you a cardiology referral?”

He went to text you again as he walked home for the evening. Typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted again. You just weren’t getting it, or maybe you were just too kind to tell him you weren’t interested or even that you had a boyfriend already on his numerous visits. Maybe he should just give you some space?

But maybe that would be cruel when you were standing on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change, mascara smeared down your cheeks as you sniffled. He pocketed his phone.

“Hey Doc, you alright?” 

You tensed, head swiveled in his direction before you quickly turned your face away, hands swiping at your cheeks before wiping them on your dark scrubs hastily.

“Oh, hey Mr. Asaba.” He frowned at your attempt at a cheerful tone, your voice still wavering from your tears before you cleared your throat. “You, uh, don’t have to call me Doc when the clinic is closed.” 

“And you don’t have to call me Mister when I’m not sitting on your exam table.” He retorted, catching the little quirk at the corner of your lips as they quivered in a small smile.

“Want me to walk you home? It’s kinda late.” 

“No, but thank you.” You peered over your shoulder towards the restaurant just behind you. You gripped your bag tighter, inching closer to where he stood beside you on the curb.  “Actually, would you mind..?” 

He didn’t have to ask you what was wrong, within the first five minutes of your walk you had apologized to him multiple times, started crying again, and spilled your heart out.

Six bad dates in the span of a couple weeks came to a head over a plate of chicken parm, your date kicking back as he declared you to be dull, hopeless, slow, and much uglier in person than your dating profile picture (which was your clinic profile photo). 

“He said that I “couldn’t take a hint”, whatever that’s supposed to mean!” You cried indignantly before you turned to him, eyes puffy and wet from your tears. 

“Am I that bad?”

He sucked a breath between his teeth. “Well, not to play the devil’s advocate but I’ve been flirting with you for weeks and you didn’t notice.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. “What?!”

He held up his hands defensively, but before he could say anything your head had already hung low, shuffling your clinic sneakers on the dirty sidewalk outside your apartment.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was small as your shoulders sank. “I’m not very good at stuff like this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, fingers grazing his choker. “I noticed, but it’s fine. You just need things to be a little more straightforward.”

He took a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he pointed at you. “I think you’re very pretty and charming in your weird doctor-y kind of way, so I would like to take you out for dinner sometime. Like, romantically.”

He was sure you gave yourself whiplash for how quickly your head snapped up, eyes wide. You brushed your tousled hair back from your face, cheeks flushing brightly enough he could see them burning under the streetlights.

“Oh, okay….when?”

“Tomorrow after you get off? I’m dreaming of beer and fried chicken if you aren’t opposed.”

“Of course not!” 

He was a little taken aback by how aggressively you answered, your hands clasping around one of his as if he was about to dematerialize before your very eyes.

“Great, then I will see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Doc—I mean, (y/n).”

“Good night to you as well.”

He turned to leave. He was practically screaming inside like a teenage girl you just secured a prom date, a new lightness to his step in the wake of his victory.

“Harumasa!”

He paused in his step, head whipping around to face you. You still stood on the stoop, a smile plastered across your face like he hadn’t seen before, one that lit your eyes up and dimpled your cheek.

“Thank you!”

He gripped his chest over his heart as it flipped wildly in his chest. His grin was pained when he looked up at you. 

“Doc, I might actually need emergency care this time--,”

Rey 2024

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [5] (myg)

title: the storm-ish 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you meet yoongi's fiancée for the first time and... don't care to get a good read on her. yoongi keeps upsetting surprising you.

warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] this one's frustrating, there's not much improvement regarding oc and yoongi, it gets worse actually. aand it's a teensy tinsy bit unedited bec j don't have access to my laptop rn.

"Here's the dining area!" Taehyung fakes excitement as he leads the party further into your home, "I set the table."

You crouch down, catching your daughter in a tight hug, “Hi, baby,” you whisper into Nao’s hair.

For a second, you could pretend everything was normal. Just you and your kid. No pink hair highlights.

But then you stood up and saw Yoongi standing awkwardly behind Naomi.

“Hey...” Yoongi greeted you softly. His eyes briefly met yours before flicking back to Nao, “Hyejin wanted to meet you, and, uh… she brought dinner.”

You forced a small, tight-lipped smile.

Dinner. She brought dinner. As if that made any of this easier. Still, you nodded once, knowing you had no choice but to go through with this.

Hyejin had walked into your kitchen by now, snooping around with curious eyes. She wants to know you so bad. Picking up a random iron skillet from the drying rack, she observes the room intensely.

She eyes the colour scheme you picked out for your whole house. It's plain but not bland, she notes. White. A little... woody. Vintage. Yet very colourful and so full of personality.

A lot of well-executed DIY projects, most likely done with your daughter--- a windchime, stained glass paintings, miniature clay figurines, jars of seashells, hanging jellyfish lamps, personalized ceramic plates and mugs with designs painted and characters sculpted onto them.

Hyejin finds you fascinating.

She noticed a bunch of crocheted tapestries. Similar to the ones in Yoongi's room. She had always found it an odd design choice in his home. But, it makes perfect sense in yours. And obviously, she finally understood where he got it from.

And she can't wait to finally get to know the woman who had her soon to be husband wrapped around her finger for years.

Yoongi never told her why you broke up but she intends to get that information out of the two of you today.

Suddenly snapping out of it, you speak stiffly, “Oh, um, thank you,” gesturing at the bags of food place on the coffee table.

Your eyes dart towards Hyejin, who was already gliding back to you sporting a bright, effortless smile.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, _____,” Hyejin smiled warmly, "Your home is lovely. You really are a true creative."

Whatever that means.

“I hope it’s okay I tagged along. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now. Yoongi never talks about you."

Oh!

That definitely didn't hurt.

You smile, not knowing what to say. Simply nodding, “Thank you. And sure, it’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine.

You still felt disrespected.

Taehyung’s brows raised slightly, but he didn’t comment either. Instead, he offered you a supportive smile from behind Hyejin and mouthed, 'You’ll be okay.'

You can only hope you would.

Yoongi knew how fragile you were, and how hard it was for you to see them together, but he had let this happen anyway.

Yet, you understood Hyejin too.

It isn't really her fault. You'd have felt better about it had this been your decision.

"Mimi, go wash up for dinner." Yoongi instructs his daughter.

Then Hyejin chimes in, "But remember not to get your hair wet! _____, do you have a shower cap she can borrow?"

Your mouth drops open a little and your ears start to heat up.

Who does this woman think she is? She's talking to you as if you're not Nao's MOTHER.

What the hell does she mean 'Do you have a shower cap she can borrow?'

That's your kid, not hers.

Not realising you were glaring at Hyejin, you forced out yet another smile. This time it was glaringly obvious.

"She has one. She knows where to find it. Don't you, Nao?" You smiled down at her fakely.

Your daughter grabbed at your dress, "Yeah. But it's okay if I don't use it. My school doesn't allow colourful hair. We'd get into trouble." She directed the last half to Yoongi's fiancée.

Oh, thank goodness it wasn't permanent dye. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Hyejin's smile drops a little but she recovers almost instantly. "Oh, wouldn't you want to twin with me though?"

Is this lady emotionally manipulating your kid?

You don't give Nao a chance to respond because you knew she'd never want to hurt anyone's feelings and you hate that she's pushed in a corner now. "Wash your hair, honey," you smile down at her sweetly, "Use mommy's shampoo if you need to."

Yoongi finally decides to intervene. "Or we could let Mimi make her own choice. She knows the consequences, and is smart enough to decide what's better for her."

And unsurprisingly, ever the diplomat (which is odd because he's literally a lawyer by trade), he won't take sides.

Sadly, he's wrong this time.

Your squint your eyes at him as if you can't understand him, "What consequences? There's a consequence. Just the one. And she already stated it. We'll get in trouble with her school."

Your anger is a bit misdirected when you demand your daughter to clean up, "Go wash your hair, Naomi. I don't want to see even hint of colour that's not natural."

Nao's eyes widen before she runs off pouting. She knew you hadn't meant to scold her but it still upset her.

This is exactly what you were worried about.

You look at Taehyung pleadingly, prompting him to check on Nao. He immediately complies and chases after her.

You weren't ready to deal with Yoongi's new life now because you knew you wouldn't be able to digest it. You did not want Nao taking the heat for something that isn't her fault. But you suppose that's inevitable because you still haven't learnt to process your feelings and emotions about Yoongi.

Also, in all honesty, you could've dealt with the school. It wasn't that serious of an issue. They aren't too strict on the appearance discipline, especially hair.

You're on a roll now though.

"And what the hell are you doing altering my daughter's appearance without consulting me anyway?" You don't know who you squeaked it at but it was definitely warranted for.

"She's my daughter too, _____." Yoongi speaks cooly yet firmly.

"Exactly. She's yours and mine. And I need to be part of every decision making process," you scoff frustrated, "I mean, how would you feel if Taehyung and I decided to chop her hair off? What if the three of us get... I don't know, bowl cuts?" You're on the verge of yelling.

Yoongi looks bewildered, "You wouldn't do that."

You record the time. This is the moment you think Yoongi finally understands you.

"That's the point, Yoongi!" You exclaim. "Of course I wouldn't because I'm not fucking stupid!" You place emphasis on 'stupid', "-and I respect you!"

The jab wasn't subtle.

"What are you implying? That Hyejin is? That I am? That we don't respect you?"

"Oh, am I wrong?" You raise a brow.

"It's just some hair dye."

"That's not the issue here," you suddenly point at his fiancée, "And why are you calling my kid Nao?"

Hyejin's eyes widen at the sudden attention. She looks to Yoongi for help.

Taehyung reemerges from Nao's room when he hears arguing.

He observes Yoongi's stance and his explosion radar goes off, "O-okay, why don't we just-" but before he could even try to diffuse the situation, Yoongi loses it on you.

"God, _____, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

A sharp pang hit your chest, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

He's never yelled at you before. He's yelled with you, around you, maybe even about you but never at you.

Moreover, he did not deserve to scream at you.

You wish you could just pout and run away into your room like your daughter had.

Instead you stand your ground and stare at Yoongi's face, challengingly.

Hyejin just stood back, a little bewildered. She's surprised Yoongi had it in him to scream this loudly. And he's the least angry, most stable person she knows. Though, she doesn't know how to feel about him treating you like this.

On one hand, she's elated that he's speaking in her defence. And on the other, she's worried she'd be on your bad side after this. And that you'd keep Nao from her. If she didn't have a relationship with Nao, she can't possibly continue being with Yoongi.

For a while, nobody said anything. Taehyung was too afraid to even breathe let alone say anything.

The two of you were like a pressure cooker.

And let's not get into what Yoongi said--- 'What's wrong with you?'

You'd like to know. Clearly, something must be wrong because you don't know why he'd marry a woman after months of dating but not you even after years of being together and even having a child with.

You watch as Yoongi's fiancée grasps his hand to calm him down.

There have been very few moments when you've wished you had one of your classic cream pies to smash in someone's face.

Now is one such instance.

And then it happens.

Your vision begins to blur.

Not wasting any time, you wrap your arms around yourself in a soothing manner and storm off into your room, refusing to break down in front of a stranger.

You wanted to make a good impression so badly but it was just too soon.

Yoongi swiftly shook Hyejin off of him to follow you but was pulled back by a strong arm. Taehyung.

He glares at the taller man before yanking his arm back, continuing after you.

Before you could slam and lock your door like a petulant child, Yoongi blocks it with his foot, "Stop."

"I don't want to talk to you." You assert.

"Then don't. Just listen to me." He suggests. More like demands. His face was stoic as ever with maybe a hint of discomfort and remorse now.

"Please?"

Outside, in the living room, Heyjin and Taehyung awkwardly lingered.

Taehyung breaks the silence, "You just had to do this now, didn't you?"

Hyejin doesn't reply but gives him a pointed look.

As much as she trusts Yoongi, she doesn't trust you and Yoongi locked in a room together. She noticed way too much passion for two people who've broken up.

Unfortunately having crossed way too many boundaries already, she can't help but just wait.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ rose blood by mazzy star ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: fuck tumblr for posting my half-baked chapter im literally so fucking annoyed i had to redo all the changes but it's whatever!

exhales

and i am still sorry for the delay! please let me know what you think; love it, hate it, can't stand it, can't live without it? tell me! bec i wanna hear all about it

(anf did you catch a subtle Gilmore girls reference 😋)

[blondie11067]

I think its crazy some people are dropping the show after Sinsmass/the whole Octavia thing.

I agree with the post about how complicated it is for Stolas. Also, i raise you *Child who has probably spent her whole life watching her parents NOT being a healthy couple... Or one at all*.

Now, this is important. VERY important, especially when you take in consideration that she's quite old in the middle of the divorce and her mother is an insanely manipulative narcissist. Which means, she could've not experienced half the shitty relationship it actually was and be living half a fantasy of a "happy family". Seeing how divorce can be quite difficult for children, even more if they're older and think the divorce is coming out of nowhere which makes it even harder.

Divorce is hard and it affects the relationship between child and parents regardless of how good it might be. Stolas also launched himself into a seriously unhealthy situationship he was NOT prepared for, much less capable to handle it. This divides his attention from being solely on Octavia (after it being all about her and her only) to his pet ✨BLITZY✨. So Octavia is growing up, being a teen, living in a house with parents who are NOT a couple or remotely affectionate with each other, and now this stranger is spending a lot of time with her dad (lets note that this is on Stolas, since he was the one seeking Blitz and not viceversa. For blitz it's business, transactional, his payment for 'renting' Stolas grimoire).

Then the divorce happens. Lets say whatever cause she still spends time with Stolas and he's doing pretty good (feeling better than he probably felt after years of living with Stella). Then he's so focused on his situationship and his developing feelings that he naturally shifts more focus onto Blitz. Then they break up and he's in Shambles.

Stella surely was also finding ways to keep Stolas from spending time with Octavia. So Stolas being too emotionally devastated after the break up doesn't help his lack of presence in Octavia's life.

"Why does he hate her more than he loves me?"

Octavia knows her parents don't love each other. That's probably why she does not react much to him ans Blitz at the beginning cuz "hey! At least her dsd is happy now, right?"

Still, she needs to know he loves her. And Stolas has proven to speak too much without sufficient actions to prove his words. He promises things and forgets (cuz he has his own shit to deal with. All reasonable) but his daughter needs her father.

Sadly, Stolas also dug his own grave.

"When I'm gone you'll be okay."

Stolas did not spend enough time with his daughter. A daughter who was no longer living with him. A daughter living through a divorce, a separation, and a mother who does not want her to be with Stolas.

Then he sacrificed himself for his great love!... And it cost him what he loves most, his daughter.

"And when you're gone I will be okay."

He proved to her that SHE wasn't the first thing he thought about. Not after the break up (yes, he was heartbroken but time with his beloved daughter would've been a healthy distraction and good for the both of them). Not when he risked his life, HER DADDY'S LIFE. Not when he just had his visiting rights REVOKED for 100 years.

I mean, seriously for someone who claims to love his daughter so much, he did not thought about how his actions would affect his daughter nor the fact that he would NOT SEE her for a fucking century - regardless of the fact that they're pretty much eternal.

Being there is important for a kid, for YOUR kid. When you prove to them they're not a priority, it stings. It shows them they can't count on you.

She even says it in her song,

"Was it just another lie."

"Why you lied to my face?"

"And I'll know that i was always right to doubt you."

And during such a rough time, it might just lead them to think that maybe they aren't loved.

🦉🦉🦉

Now yoy have this teen goung through all of that but, believe it or not, kids have eyes. Kids pay attention to their parents.

So she throws it back to him, how he never kept his promises, how all he did was lie, how he didn't love her as much as he loved Blitz since he ABANDONED her for him.

Octavia goes through all the drama, through all those doubts about her dad and whether or not he loves her and then... She finds a BOX full of Happy Pills!

So yes. She throws all that back to him and she blames him.... But she also blames herself.

She thinks that because of his unhappy marriage - HER parents' shitty marriage -, because of HER, Stolas was so depressed, so unhappy... That he needed ✨Happy Pills✨

"So (...) you just stayed miserable because of me?"

It's her fault his dad was miserable. He would've been better had he not stayed with his family, unhappy and forced into it.

"Was I some fucking obligation?"

She's a burden. No reason her dad left her. She was part of the reason he was miserable. Of course she'd leave her after finding happiness.

And then it all ties together with

"You lied to me once you'll lie to me again"

What goes around comes around.

"I tried so many years to make it comfortable for us; to have this family, but it was never enough. The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life." - Stolas S2 E1

"Also, son, you are destined to sire a precautionary addition to the Goetia family." - Paimon S2 E1

Some of you all are completely misunderstanding the second half, I am not downplaying the love Stolas has for Octavia, I am not saying that at all, what I am saying, is that Octavia is 100% going to think she was a 'obligation' when she finds out she was born to be a 'precautionary addition to the Goetia family'.

[meazalykov]

expect the unexpected

crush!vivianne miedema x reader prologue (lynn wilms x reader series)

this is the prologue to a new series coming february 1st.

the chill of an early spring evening seeps into your jacket as you step into the cozy apartment vivianne shares with beth.

the warm lighting and faint scent of coffee create a comforting contrast to the cold tension that’s been suffocating you at arsenal. 

tonight is supposed to be a break. this is a chance to escape the drama that seems to cling to jonas’s shadow.

you clutch a cup of tea vivianne made for you, settling onto the couch next to gio, who’s scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. 

beth is in the kitchen, joking with vivianne as they finish up the snacks for the night.

“you look dead,” gio remarks, glancing at you with a small smile that doesn’t quite hide the concern in her eyes.

you shrug, sipping the tea and letting its warmth anchor you. 

“long week.”

“jonas again?” she asks knowingly, and you nod, not trusting your voice to not say anything respectful. 

vivianne enters the room, setting a bowl of popcorn on the table. 

“what did he do this time?” she asks, her tone edged with frustration as she sits down across from you. 

you hesitate. it feels like every time you bring it up, you’re just adding to a pile of grievances too heavy to carry anymore. “same thing he always does. benched me for no reason, made some comment to kim about how i ‘don’t fit the system.’” the words come out bitter, and you hate how small they make you feel.

vivianne leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“he’s an idiot.”

you look at her, gratitude mixed with something heavier—a yearning you can’t shake. viv’s expression is kind, steady, and unchanging. she sees you as a friend. a teammate. nothing more.

gio knows your liking for viv, lighting frowning with sympathy as your eyes twinkle at the dutch woman. 

“thanks, viv,” you mumble, looking over to stare at the steam rising from your tea.

“he’s lucky i’m leaving,” gio interjects, tossing her phone onto the cushion beside her. the statement hangs in the air for a moment before anyone responds.

“wait,” beth says, stepping out of the kitchen with a plate of cookies. 

“what do you mean, leaving? like, leaving on loan again?”

gio shakes her head, her jaw tightening. 

“no. for good this time. i told my agent i’m done with arsenal. atletico madrid’s interested, and honestly? i think i need to go back. jonas is draining the joy out of football for me.”

the room falls silent. beth sets the plate down, her expression softening. 

“gio…”

“i’ve thought about it for a while,” gio continues, her voice firmer now. 

“i can’t stay here and keep pretending like everything’s fine. i want to love the game again, and that’s not going to happen under jonas.”

vivianne nods slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. 

“i get it. i’ve been feeling the same way.”

you look up sharply. 

“wait, what?”

vivianne sighs, running a hand through her hair. 

“arsenal’s not renewing my contract. i found out last week. honestly, i’m upset about it but my nervous system is relieved. i need a change if he is going to stay there.”

“where are you going?” gio asks, her brows furrowed.

vivianne glances at beth, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“probably manchester city. it’s the most appealing option right now.”

you force yourself to smile, even as something twists painfully in your chest. of course. city. beth. you’ve always known vivianne had something serious with beth—everyone did—but hearing it out loud still stings.

“that’s... that’s great,” you manage, your voice steady enough to hide the ache. 

“you deserve to be somewhere you’re happy.”

“thanks,” vivianne says, her smile widening slightly. 

“and hey, if you end up staying in the wsl, we’ll still see each other plenty.”

you swallow hard and nod, but you don’t respond. 

you’re not staying. not here, not in the wsl, not under jonas.

beth sits down beside vivianne, her arm brushing against hers. “well, i’m not going anywhere,” she says lightly, though there’s a trace of tension in her voice. 

“at least not yet. i figure jonas won’t last forever, and i want to be here when he’s gone.”

gio snorts. 

“good luck with that.”

you take a deep breath, setting your tea on the table. “arsenal’s not renewing my contract either.” the words feel heavy, final, but there’s a strange relief in saying them out loud.

beth’s eyes widen. “what? since when?”

“my agent called me about it last month,” you admit. 

“i haven’t told anyone until now.”

vivianne leans back, studying you carefully. 

“are you staying in the wsl?”

you shake your head.

“no.”

“so, did barcelona finally knocked on your door?” vivianne jokes, a playful smirk on her face. 

“sorry– i mean, you’ve only been obsessed with them since forever.”

you laugh, the sound more bitter than you intended. 

“no, not barcelona. it’s... it might be the bundesliga. wolfsburg, specifically.”

vivianne’s expression softens. 

“that’s a good move. wolfsburg’s a great club, and i know a lot of people there. i can introduce you to some friends to help you settle in.”

“that would mean a lot,” you say, your voice quieter now. the idea of leaving everything you’ve known is daunting, but her support makes it feel a little less terrifying.

“wolfsburg suits you,” gio adds. 

“they’re lucky to have you.”

“thanks,” you reply to your bestfriend, though your mind drifts to what it will mean to leave—leave arsenal, leave the wsl, leave both gio and vivianne.

the four of you sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken settling over the room. it’s beth who breaks it, her voice soft but resolute. 

“we’ve been through so much together here. it’s hard to imagine us all going our separate ways.”

“yeah,” vivianne agrees, her gaze distant. “at least i will still be here with you but its a same difference. a fresh start.”

“it’s just... sad,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“arsenal was supposed to be an amazing team, you know? but now it feels like i have to leave if i ever want to feel happy again.”

vivianne reaches out, squeezing your upper arm. 

“you’ll find that happiness again. i know you will.”

you look at her, and for a moment, you let yourself believe her. maybe wolfsburg will be the fresh start you need. 

maybe leaving vivianne will help you finally let go of feelings that were never meant to be with her.

“to moving on,” gio says, raising her glass of soda in a mock toast.

“to moving on,” the rest of you echo, clinking your glasses together. and in that moment, surrounded by your teammates, you start to believe that leaving isn’t the end.. it’s the beginning of something new.

series coming 2/1

[inmyheaddd]

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night - averyjameson

a/n: heavy influenced by thinking bout you by ariana hehe, also trying out a new style sorta?? so i'm vv sorry if this is horrible.,, thank u tig gc/ liv for help with the quotes !! summary: (set in thl, pre coma) avery cannot stop thinking about jameson, and the thought that he may just be the right person for her. the fact that there even could be a 'person for her' is jarring enough, and jameson being at the centre of those thoughts does not help her predicament. wc: 2.8k

Avery tossed and turned in her bed, trying insanely hard to grasp some sort of control over her mind and her thoughts. She lay on her side and screwed her eyes shut. Two minutes later, her eyes flew open, and then she turned to lie on her back. 

''Picture yourself standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping in your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn. Who’s there?” Max had once asked her.

When she first heard that question, she felt like she was fully incapable of ever picturing anyone there with her. She was simply alone. But now, Avery hated that the picture was becoming increasingly more clear with every passing moment. 

That head of unruly brown hair, an ever-present wicked grin, and green eyes that seemed to look straight to the deepest parts of her. 

Jameson. She saw Jameson. 

Avery groaned and turned onto her other side and went through that process of turning fruitlessly at least 5 more times. Seriously, Avery, get a grip, she thought.

Why was he always there when she needed him? Why could she see that he had actually changed for her? Why was he... good? Avery once again squeezed her eyes shut like it would turn off those thoughts of Jameson and let her fall asleep, but of course, it didn't work. 

Love? Fear? Lust? She couldn't quite tell what it was, but all she knew was it was becoming harder to keep that one green-eyed Hawthorne out of her thoughts. She knew that for some reason, she wanted whatever they had going on to be more, and she wanted it to work out. 

That was it for her. 

She sprang out of bed and went to her closet, picking out her favourite sweater—the one Libby had gotten for her when she noticed the thinness of the old one Avery would always wear. That felt like a whole lifetime ago to her now. She wondered what her past self would think of her life now, think of the choices she was making. 

She made her way to her bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. There was no point in even attempting to sleep anymore; it was clearly not on her side this evening, so why not make the most out of it? 

She made her way downstairs, arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to combat the cold, not really knowing why she was going, but she figured once she was down there she'd figure out what she'd want. The house was eerily quiet—it was always pretty quiet considering the sheer size of it, but now, Avery could swear she could seriously not hear a single thing. She almost wondered if she went deaf. 

She made it to the kitchen, not even bothering to turn the big lights on. There were lights from underneath the cabinets and moonlight and various other lights pouring out from the windows. That was enough for her. She sighed and slouched on one of the chairs on the island. 

She ran a hand through her hair, trying so very hard to not think of the amount of times she and Jameson had sat here, how many times he had grinned at her when he would seemingly appear out of nowhere behind her and scare her half to death. 

And as if the universe was playing some funny trick on her, the boy who had been taking up her every rational thought walked into the kitchen. He didn't notice her at first, his black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, no shirt on, both hands rubbing his eyes as he walked towards the cabinet that held the glasses for water. 

Avery felt like she'd been caught, though she hadn't done anything wrong. Thinking of someone wasn't a crime, right? Surely her thoughts couldn't have summoned him. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and her heart sped. 

She didn't move a single inch, and Jameson somehow still stayed completely oblivious to her presence a mere few metres away. Or maybe he was aware and just didn't show it. Avery could never fully tell with him. He blinked a few times, then set his glass down and stretched both his hands overhead, groaning ever so slightly.

Okay, I should seriously look away now, she thought. Or she should make her presence known, maybe clear her throat or something. But she couldn't. It was like she was entranced with the way the toned lines on his torso elongated, the way his arms looked, the way his hair fell into his face ever so slightly, the way his hands—

''Heiress.'' Avery's thoughts came to a halt. Her eyes snapped up to his face, and he had amusement sparkling in his eyes, mixed in with confusion. He managed a sleepy grin at her as his arms fell back to his sides. 

He phrased the word like a question, almost. There was sleep still laced in his voice, and Avery swore she could listen to him like this for hours and never get sick of it. 

He tilted his head. ''Why on earth are you awake?'' he chuckled lowly, not mentioning the way she had simply sat and stared at him for the past minute. 

Either he was protecting her sanity and didn't want to tease her right now, or he really just didn't notice the way she stared. Avery snuck a glance at the time on the oven. 3:42 AM. She'd been trying to fall asleep since 11. 

''Um,'' Avery cleared her throat, trying to sound as casual as Jameson did with a small laugh. ''Couldn't sleep. Why on earth are you awake?'' 

''You know what they say, Heiress,'' he narrowed his eyes jokingly, ''No rest for the wicked.'' Jameson flashed her a wink, finally filling up his glass of water under the tap.

His eyes didn't leave Avery once, not even looking at his glass as he turned off the tap and brought the cup to his lips. 

He leaned back against the counter, and Avery turned slightly in her seat without realising, facing him properly. 

''You think you're that bad, huh? Don't flatter yourself.'' Avery mumbled half jokingly.

''You almost sound like you think I'm good,'' he quipped with a tilt of his head, downing his glass of water in a second, and Avery 100% did not look at the way his Adams apple bobbed or the way his lips looked. Absolutely, definitely not. 

Avery managed a sarcastic smile, not showing any signs of being affected by his actions or words as he walked over and sat next to her. 

She snorted, ''You're probably the furthest thing from good in my life, Jameson. Doesn't mean you're necessarily wicked, though.''

He looked her up and down with a glint in his eye—he looked wide awake now. ''Furthest thing from good?'' He hummed, ''I think you would do with some recklessness in your life.'' He continued, his tone not really holding any humour in it anymore. Avery realised just how close he was now. 

''Maybe someone who lets you know it's okay to not do what others think is 'good.' Someone who breaks free from the reins with you but knows when to bring them back.'' He told her, a half smile on his face as he gently nudged her shoulder. 

''Not that you're not able to do all that by yourself; believe me, I know you're capable of many things.'' He said that last part in a way that made Avery break away from his gaze. ''The thing is, I think that you simply don't want to. You like to play it safe.''

Avery understood the other message he was silently conveying: He liked to play it dangerous. 

She felt like the part of her shoulder where he had nudged her was igniting. She could sense there was more to what Jameson wanted to say, so she brought her eyes back up to his. ''But?'' 

''But,'' he tilted his head, ''I also think you should. And, I think that someone would love to show you just how life can feel when you're free. They'd be a very lucky person to do so.''

''Let me guess,'' Avery smiled dryly, but her insides felt like they were on fire with how fast her heart was beating. ''You're that someone?'' 

''I'd be anything you'd like.'' He replied, flashing a quick smile that reminded Avery of the Cheshire Cat. ''You know, you're a very good guesser.''

''I don't like to guess.''

''Yeah?'' Jameson let out a breathy chuckle. ''I thought as much. You like to know.''

Avery pressed her lips together and fought back a smile; she did like to know. She hated feeling like there was something left undiscovered that she couldn't quite figure out. Which was partly why she loved the thrill of figuring things out. That moment when everything seemed to click. Jameson had picked up on that fact about her pretty damn quick. 

Avery didn’t look away, holding his gaze steady. "Yeah, I like to know," she admitted quietly, her voice even, "I know you're the same way. With winning, too. Is it weird that a part of me doesn’t like you knowing that about me?"

Jameson’s crooked grin grew, "Not weird at all." He shrugged, the casual movement undermined by the glint in his eyes. "You don’t like me wanting you, either. You don’t like wanting anything.''

He said the words in such a laid-back manner, while Avery's heart dropped. Her brows knitted together, it almost felt like a confrontation, but she got the sense that he wasn't judging her. “But you know what’s interesting, Heiress?” His voice dipped a degree lower as he inched his face just a fraction closer, the kind of proximity that always left her torn between feeling both cornered and wanting to break the space even more. “You and I—neither of us are that easy to figure out. And yet here we are.''

''Here we are,'' she repeated, her voice coming out sharper than she intended, ''knowing each other more than we'd like.'' She said, finishing his sentence for him.

And trusting each other with our lives. She thought, but she didn't dare say it aloud. She thought back on the Black Wood, the way he put his body over hers with no hesitation.

"I think that’s why you can’t decide if you hate me or not," Jameson added, his voice dropping a degree lower, "You like knowing, but being known? That’s a different kind of risk, isn’t it?"

He knew he was right. She didn't need to answer. He'd just summed up the way she had felt for years of her life in 3 sentences. She wouldn't let herself be known, yet a part of her yearned for it. Most people gave up trying to get close to her after a while, but with the few that stayed, Avery's walls slowly broke down, and she got comfortable. 

The risk Jameson was talking about, the one about people staying, he seemed eager to take it. 

Avery’s heart raced, but she gave nothing away, merely tilting her head with a wry smile. "You’re overthinking it, Jameson."

His grin widened, and he leaned in ever so slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Perhaps you’re choosing to not think about it, Avery."

Oh, if he had any idea just how much she thought about it. Once again, he knew, she was choosing, or at least trying to not think about it.

Her mind lingered on the way he called her by her name. Not Heiress, not Mystery Girl. Just Avery.

''I've 'thought about it' enough.'' She told him, her gaze flitting between his eyes.

He casually brought his hand up and brushed a stray hair behind her ear, his gentleness nearly making her flinch. ''And what was your conclusion?" He asked innocently, his voice a low hum. 

Avery nearly sighed in frustration. She knew Jameson was simply trying to get her riled up, but she still sarcastically quipped, ''Why don't you use your guessing skills?"

He hummed, like he was seriously thinking about it, but the teasing smile on his lips said otherwise. ''I'd rather hear you say it.''

Jameson's hand that tucked her hair behind now fit right where her jaw met her neck, and his green eyes looked nearly black in the dim lighting of the kitchen.

''Tough luck, then.'' Avery mumbled, unable to look away.

Everything had seemed so cold just minutes earlier, but now, Avery felt like every nerve in her body was on fire. She wondered if Jameson felt the same. 

Avery tried to keep her composure, but the way he held her made her question everything. She was used to keeping control, but with him, control felt impossible, unnecessary even. There was something about his touch that made her feel like she could let go and still be safe.

"Jameson…" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to pull away or bring him closer. His hand slid lower, resting at the base of her neck, and the heat between them intensified.

"You want me to stop?" he asked, though it seemed he knew her answer. 

Perhaps he wanted to hear her say that too. 

Avery’s mind was racing, her heart thudding loudly in her chest, but her answer came without hesitation. "No." It was barely audible, but it was enough.

In the next instant, his lips were on hers, and everything else faded away. The kiss was soft at first, slow, as if he were testing the waters, but Avery wasn’t about to let it stay that way. She leaned in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer.

Jameson responded instantly, one arm sliding around her waist, then he stood and brought them both out of their chairs as they stumbled around the kitchen, not breaking from the kiss.

They continued walking blindly until he gently backed her up against the counter. Avery’s breath hitched, but she couldn’t pull away.

She didn't want to pull away. She didn’t want to doubt her choices. Not anymore.

Click.

Avery had suddenly felt like everything fell into place, like the very first step she had taken in the Hawthorne House had led to this, to uncovering the mystery of what she and Jameson Winchester Hawthorne were. She once thought they were only confined to adrenaline, attraction, and the thrill of the moment. No strings attached. No messy emotions.

Now, she found herself feeling every messy emotion, like there had been a string attached right from her heart to his, pulling them closer and closer and closer.

'You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person.' Jameson.

'You turn. Who’s there?'Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. He was there. 

He was here. And he was kissing Avery and holding her face so gently in a way that no one ever had before, like she was precious to him. Like he truly cared, and not just about the games.

And after all the times Avery spent thinking about the different ways her life could've been, she found herself not wanting to be anywhere else but here.

If possible, Avery's heart started beating even faster as her hands travelled down his chest, feeling every rigid bump and dip. Her hands quickly found their way back up and slid into his hair, pulling slightly. She felt him grin against her lips, which brought her back to reality. 

She was the first to pull back, her hands lingering around his neck for a second longer before they slid down to his chest.

“I should... I should go to bed.” She muttered into the small space between them, looking at her hands and bringing them back to her sides before looking straight up into his eyes. 

Jameson tilted his head, his pupils blown out as he gazed at her. His lips were parted as he caught his breath. ''Right.'' He nodded breathlessly, their lips still unbelievably close. ''It's late. Busy day for you tomorrow, yeah?'' 

Avery nodded as she breathed out a small, ''Yeah, you know how it is.'' 

Recently, all her days were busy, considering the Skye and Toby business.

His lips curved inwards into a thin line as he stepped to the side, giving her space to move. His expression was something that looked like understanding—or maybe it was disappointment. Either way, he didn’t push. He just nodded. 

“Alright,” he said, managing a grin, seemingly out of the daze he was in earlier. “Goodnight, Heiress.”

Her stomach twisted, ''Night, Jameson,'' she let the words fall as she stayed looking into his eyes. She forced herself to look away, because she had a feeling if she didn't, she'd be there all night.

She finally stepped away. She wasn't clueless; she felt him watch her walk away. But she kept herself moving before she could let herself change her mind. 

And this time, when Avery lay in her bed, she actually fell asleep. 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 also special thank u to @apollospoem for the beta read!! 🙈 she saw it first!!!

[agent-mcsweetheart]

what do you think happened to agent mcsweeten after leverage ended? do you think he ever found out that parker and hardison were dating? or do you think he always just hoped he'd run into her again and finally get a chance to ask her out? how do you think parker feels about him?

anyone can answer this, i just want to pick everyone's brains hahah

What a truly delightful question, and as you may be able to tell, I love my dear friend, FBI Agent Todd McSweeten.

As for where he is now, I cannot remember if this is canon or if I just made this up and decided it was, but I am convinced that McSweeten kept moving up in the ranks of the FBI. Yeah, he was noticed by the higher-ups because of the Leverage team, but he is also good at his job. They helped him along but it mostly just highlighted the skill he actually has, if that makes sense. If not, I can, in fact, elaborate. I do think he sometimes looks a little closer at certain more complicated sites because she used to show up at the most random sites but also ones that were really complicated cases. I think he’s thought about her and tried to like…friend her on Facebook but was a little disappointed when he couldn’t find her but he found a woman who looks a lot like her…

I don’t think Parker ever felt romantic feelings for him but she does think of him rather fondly. In like a “Oh, McSweeten!! I love that guy!!! I should see how he is…” Like she thinks of him in this sweet nostalgic kind of endearing way.

[thatonetargaryen]

Our Tears Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Part 2 of: My Tears Ricochet

Synopsis: After walking in on a sight that you’d remember for endless nights to come—you mourn what is now seemingly the end of your marriage. However, Ambessa is determined not to let that happen—even if she had to get on her hands and knees.

cw; afab!reader; infidelity; heavy angst but happy ending; smut; more smut; Hex-strap; fingering ; did I mention smut? Ambessa being a bad wife but trying to fix it; not proofread; men and minors dni

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for original prompt and @fruitfulfashion for ending idea. Hope both of you enjoy (I’m not too good at writing smut so bear with me). 🎀

……

Your sobs were muffled by Mel’s chest as you leaned into her hold. Her slim fingers made her way through your now loose, frizzled hair. Your hands clenched onto her like a lifeline and right now—she was.

For a moment, she had a sense of deja vu. She remembered when she had first gotten her period when she was 13—the first step to becoming a woman, and instead of running to her real mother, she ran to you. You held her in your arms and the harder she cried, the tighter you hugged. The two of you rocked back and forth as she told you how scared she was, a vulnerability she couldn’t even share with her mother, and how you reassured her and cleared all doubts from her mind.

To you, the act may have thought to be necessary. An act of kindness any mother would show for their daughter. But to her, it was so much more. Every time the breeze blew in a certain way or the sun sat low in the sky—it reminded her of the warmth of your embrace. The warmth of your heart.

And now, she held you in her arms. She rocked you back and forth. And she let you cry out.

When your sobs finally died down, the two of you stayed silent for a moment. But there was a silent question in the air that had yet to be spoken, ‘What are you gonna do now?’.

Mel soothingly rubbed your arm as she looked down at you. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head. What you needed was something she wasn’t able to give.

She took a shaky breath. “I know this is hard for you. She wasn’t always the most loving, but I never thought she would—”

She stopped as she closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. She shook her head. “I thought she loved you.”

You finally looked up at her through red and puffy eyes. You licked your chapped lips as your hoarse voice spoke, “Your mother does love me. We..wouldn’t have gotten married if she didn’t. I…”

Mel turned to you with an angry look. “Tsk. She doesn’t love you. She can’t. How do you explain what you just saw? You’ve been loyal to her for the entirety of your marriage and have stood by her when no one else did. You gave up so much for her. How can you sit here and say—”

You held Mel’s face in your hands as her own tears of frustration ran down her cheeks. You wiped them away as you spoke softly. “Mel, what your mother has done has hurt me in ways I hope you never experience. But I don’t want this to be another crack in your relationship. It’s already strained as it is. In no way am I justifying her actions but please…don’t let this affect you as much as it has me. A connection between mother and daughter is unlike any other—even one between spouses.”

Mel stared dumbfounded at your words, but stayed silent as you continued. “I love you Mel. Never forget that. Even if this causes a rift between your mother and I—I will love you no less.”

Mel fought back tears in her eyes as she held your gaze. She nodded at your words and leaned into your shoulder. You held her hands in your own. She spoke, barely above a whisper, but it was as loud as any shout—“I love you too, Mom.”

After a moment of silence, there was a vibration felt on the bed. She looked over at her phone with a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

As she checked to see whoever had messaged her, a look of realization crossed her features. “Shit!”

You looked at her, surprised at her language—but ultimately ignored it. “What’s going on?”

“I set up plans with Jayce a while back before you told me you were coming to Piltover. I totally forgot to reschedule…Now he’s on his way.”

She shook her head, “I’ll tell him to cancel and we can do it some other time. I know you need me right now.”

You shook your head, “No, no. I’ll be fine. Please, go enjoy yourself with this….Jayce.”

She looked at you softly, “Are you sure? I mean, we can always do it another time….”

You nodded, “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

She smiled as she kicked on her shoes as straightened up her hair and makeup. She threw on a robe as she changed out of her previous dress. She didn’t get the chance to choose one before she turned back to you.

You stared out the window in a pool of your own thoughts before you felt a tug on your arm.

“Come on, you’re coming with.”

“What?”, you said, surprised.

“You’re coming with Jayce and I. You said you wanted to meet him.”

You looked at her, considering her offer. “Look at me. I can’t go out like…this. I look and feel like I just had an emotional breakdown.”

She looked at you in silent agreement and ordered one of the maids outside to prepare a shower. She ushered you into the shower and said she’d be right outside if you needed her. You wanted to under the hot water, but you know you were on a tight schedule.

After you got out and dried your body and hair, she rushed over to her large vanity, pulling out a plethora of hair supplies. She ushered you over, and you sat in front of the mirror.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as she practically pampered you. She detangled, brushed, and curled your once frazzled hair. She pinned it back as she applied your preferred makeup from the bag you brought with you abroad.

The makeup was simple—yet it complimented your features. You hadn’t known Mel was so good at this. When she was small, she was gotten her first makeup kit that she begged to have for practically a year. You had been her first test subject. The looks you got from the nobles when you kept on the makeup throughout the day did little to dampen the wide smile of little Mel’s face.

When she was finally satisfied, she turned away from the vanity and started to put the things away. “Do you like it?”.

You nodded as a smile graced your features. You ran your fingers through your loose curls, careful not to mess them up. You felt prettier than you had in a long time.

“Good. Now we just need to pick an outfit.”

She went over to her closet as she raked through her many dresses. After a moment of indecisiveness, she picked a white satin off-shoulder dress that fell just above her knees, showing off her long legs. Her braids were done in a tight low bun as she let two frame the sides of her face.

Meanwhile, you were still struggling to find something to wear. You didn’t want anything too provocative since you were married despite the circumstances but you didn’t want to cover too much because of the relentless heat of Piltover.

You ended up choosing a sleeveless sage green dress with a heart neckline. It reached your ankles, being modest and flowy at the same time. You threw on a gold necklace and small diamond earrings.

Mel approached you as she took in your appearance. “You look…amazing, Mom.”

You smiled bashfully at her compliment. You threw on a purse as you both exited the room.

It was time for you to unwind.

….

The three of you ended up going to a nice restaurant not too far away. The sun was still high in the sky as the three of you looked outside the window at the beautiful view.

“So, how’d you meet my Mel?”, you asked—going into interrogation mode now that you all were seated.

The boy turned his attention to you, his charismatic personality slightly cracking under your gaze, “Well, uh—I’m actually working on a project here in Piltover. It was way before I became a council member. I was stationed in the main building and she just so happened to be there. We’ve been together ever since.”

Mel smiled, “I heard about him through the grape vine. One of the prodigies behind the Hextech. It was only a matter of time before the two of us met.”

The two were deeply in love—heart achingly so. It reminded you of when Ambessa first introduced herself to your own parents. She refused to crack under their scrutinizing gazes and answered every question as if she had meticulously prepared beforehand—which she probably did. It didn’t take long before your parents were nagging the two of you to get married.

“I take it you’ve met my wife?”, you asked.

Jayce visibly tensed at the mention of Ambessa. He took a sip of his fruit drink before clearing his throat, “I have. She was, uh….she definitely let an impression.”

The silence was loud as Mel took a French fry from Jayce’s plate.

“But if I may speak freely, Mrs.Medarda—”

You nodded towards him, curious at what he had to say.

“The two of you are so….different. From the way you look down to the aura you exude. I-I’ve heard stories as a boy detailing how you brought peace to Noxus and many other lands they once butt-heads with. They always said you were soft and kind. But you had a firm hand and possessed the political knowledge to end wars before they could they were even declared. You’ve saved the lives of so many people—soldiers, citizens, and nobles alike, and yet—”

He stopped, realizing he was rambling—a habit he picked up in his early years. “What I mean to say is, the two of you are basically the Sun and the Moon. Polar opposites.”

You smiled softly as you mindlessly toyed with the straw in your drink. “The Sun and the Moon complement each other. But if the Moon were to disappear without a trace—the Sun wouldn’t bat an eye. It would keep thriving as it always has. Yet, if the Sun were the disappear—the Moon would mourn its death for endless nights to come.”

A silence overtook the three of you, and Jayce seemed confused at the comparison. Mel spoke softly, extending the metaphor, “And yet…the world would notice if either disappeared.”

You nodded your head at her words as you pushed your plate forward. “Yes, yes it would.”

…..

As the sun started to set, the three of you headed to a nearby bar for drinks. It was getting slightly chilly, and Jayce through his jacket over Mel’s shoulders to shield her from the cold.

You simply held yourself tighter, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket.

You sighed in contempt as you finally entered the bar and took a seat. The two lovebirds sat a few seats away from you, but not too far.

The bartender made his way to you first. He wore an all black button down shirt and pants, and his jet black hair complemented his piercing blue eyes. He smiled warmly, “What can I get for you?”

You took a glimpse at the menu as you spoke tiredly, “Just a Daiquiri, please. Chilled.”

He nodded. But he stood there for just another moment, “Rough day?”

You gave him a small smile, “You could say that…”

He began to talk out the necessary ingredients for your drink at an impressive pace, “In that case, first drink’s on me then.”

You smiled at him gratefully as you gave him a ‘Thank you’. You reminded yourself to give him a generous tip before you left.

You brought the drink to your lips and took a generous sip. The taste of sugar, rum, and citrus made its way onto your tongue, and you hummed in satisfaction. You set down your glass as you looked around the bar.

You saw people smiling and laughing as they shared drinks. You saw couples giggling and holding each other tight. You saw people sitting alone—yet even they looked content. They were all happy.

Why couldn’t you just be happy?

Over the years, Ambessa started to bury herself more and more. She pulled herself away from you, often leaving you in a cold bed and practically engulfed your small frame. She wouldn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, and even then, she wouldn’t greet you. Wouldn’t touch you. Wouldn’t even spare you a glance.

I should’ve seen the signs sooner, you told yourself. I should’ve went away before it got too far, should’ve filed for divorce the moment she became distant.

But you didn’t. You stuck by her side. Waited endless nights in a cold bed hoping she’d come home and be normal again. Notice you. Love you.

Yet the moment never came. You had waited for something that was never going to come.

Before you knew it, you lost count of the number of shots you ordered and downed in come take. You ignored the look concern the bartender gave you as you stared down at your fingers. You trailed shaped across your thighs—something Ambessa used to do—and, fuck—

You just couldn’t get her off your mind. No matter how hard you tried. No matter how much you desperately wanted to.

Your eyes drew heavy, and you practically tumbled out of your seat. You made your way over to Mel—who was practically sitting on Jayce’s lap—and let her know you were going home. Her once carefree gaze turned into one of concern.

“Did you need me to call you a ride? Give me one second and I’ll—”

You shook your head, “Mel, really, I’ll be fine. My place isn’t far from here. Enjoy your night, don’t worry about me.”

She sighed, “Alright…call me when you get home.”

You nodded at her words, gave the cashier a wad of cash and told him to ‘keep the change’, and stumbled out of the bar on two left feet.

…….

You stumbled towards the door of the apartment you were renting out while in Piltover. It was luxurious—one of the most expensive of its kind. Though, you hadn’t spent much time in it.

You shuffled through your purse as you searched for your keys in the dark. You sighed in victory as you finally found them, and clumsily put your key in the doorknob.

You opened the door and stumbled through your apartment with low eyes. You threw your purse somewhere are you walked up the glass stairs.

You heard slight shuffling upstairs, but your drunk, hazed mind decided to ignore it. Big mistake.

You walked through the hall and towards your room—only to freeze at the door way.

In less than five seconds—you swore you were now sober.

There she was. Your wife. Ambessa. She sat faced away from you on the far side of the bed. Her shoulders were stiff and her back was rigid. She looked down into her lap, and without even looking at her face, you could tell she was in deep thought.

You slowly started to walk backwards, but at the absolute worse time possible, your left heel decided to break, and you stumbled backwards. With a thud, you were brought to your knees on the floor.

Shit.

She spinner around and her gray coils moved with her. She scrambled to her feet as she went to help you up, but you snatched your arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

You scurried into the room and sat on the bed as you rubbed your ankle. That was definitely going to bruise in the morning.

“Y/N…”, you heard Ambessa whisper. You’d never heard her speak so softly.

You tried to ignore her presence, but that was impossible to do. She stood where she was—yet her gaze enveloped the whole room.

You shook your head as you held back tears, “I—I don’t ever ask for much….”

She stayed silent as you spoke.

“I don’t ever ask for much. All the presents and gifts you gave me…All the houses and land you bought me…All the jewels and diamonds you gave me….”

You shook your head harder as your tears fell harder, “I ain’t ask for none of that. All I asked is you give your kids the light of day. That you give me the love and attention I give you non-conditionally. That you stay loyal to me—as your wife—and show me that our marriage wasn’t out of infatuation—but genuine love for one another.”

You sobbed harder as you fought to breathe. “You think I don’t have wants and needs too? You think I don’t imagine myself being able to have a stable relationship with someone else? You think I don’t want to have sex and have somebody fell up on my body? To whisper sweet nothings in my ear? To show me that I matter to them? But I would never go behind your back and do that to you because I love you. I love you so much it hurts, Ambessa. I wish I could just let you go. Rip you out of my life and run far,far away. But I can’t. I just can’t…..”

You grew frustrated at her silence and wiped your snotty nose. “Why’d you do it, Ambessa? Why you have to do me like that?”

Ambessa’s own’s tears clouded her vision as she fought to find the right words. Her breath hitched, and she could tell you were becoming impatient. So she spoke her mind, and didn’t hold back.

“I—I thought….you made me weak. I thought if I allowed when I allowed myself to get close to you, I weakened the walls I fought so hard to built around myself. I’ve fought so hard to become the woman I am today, and I couldn’t let anyone take that away from me—not even my own family. So I distanced myself. From Mel. From Kino. And from you. I thought I was doing us both a favor. It allowed me to make the necessary decisions to keep us safe, and for you….I thought it would allow you the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t sleeping next to a monster.”

Surprise crossed your features as she continued to speak, “I have the blood of thousands—if not millions—on my hands. Women, children, and men alike. The thought of it haunts me every night, and yet, and I have brush it aside. I opt to spend most nights asleep in the very same chair I spend hours reviewing and signing papers in because I can’t bear to sleep beside you knowing what I have done. What I will do.”

Tears started to spill onto her scarred cheeks as she approached you. You didn’t move, and simply stared.

She knelt before you, and grabbed both of your small hands in hers, “What I have done is unforgivable. And I will accept any punishment you give me. I—I’ll build you a new estate for you to stay in. I’ll have it done before winter, but please—”

You grabbed her face in your hands, halting her words. The two of you met eyes, and a thousand words were spoken before either of you could say anything. Your mind betrayed your anger as you looked down at your wife. Your wife. Not the war general, not the most powerful figure in Piltover, not the formidable warlord, but your wife. A woman. With a mind, and a soul, and a deep, aching heart confined in the thickest of chains. Chains only you could break.

What she did hurt you deeply. But you could see the regret in her eyes. How it spread throughout her body. How it seemed to age her face even more.

You took your thumb and wiped a stray tear on her face, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into your touch.

You brought her head into your bosom, and for a moment, the two of you were silent. You laid your cheek on her head as you embraced her. Years of regret seemed to radiate off her. She spoke softly into your chest, “I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I want you to know….I’m sorry. For everything. And I will spend the rest of my life working for your forgiveness. I swear it.”

You took in your words as you shook your head. “While I certainly can’t forgive you now, I’ll give you a chance. Prove to me that our marriage is worth keeping. Show me that you can change, for us.”

Her head shot up, and a look of relief like none other crossed her features. A genuine smile—one you hadn’t seen in a long time, but adored—graced her features as she held you tighter.

“I’ll change—for us.”

……

The next few weeks brought you happiness that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The two of you finally traveled back to Noxus.

You hugged Mel tightly on the dock while the guards and servants prepared the ship. However, the tension between her and her mother could be cut with a knife as they shared brief goodbyes.

The morning after you came home drunk to Ambessa in your apartments, you called Mel and told her about the apology. She was taken aback, not believing a word you said. She had asked why she did it in the first place, yet you didn’t want to share too much on the private conversation. You gave a brief summary, leaving out some stuff, and she simply hummed. You could tell you were holding back something through the screen.

The ride back home wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you doubted Ambessa would stay true to her word. That quickly changed when the two of you arrived home.

It was like a switch flipped inside her. Instead of lingering behind after meetings, she spent the rest of her free time with you. She no longer spent countless hours hunched over a desk looking over papers, and finally got a trusted assistant to help her. She invested more time in the things you enjoyed and even found out things about herself. Her side of the bed was finally warm as she held you in her arms at night and shared hot baths with you in the morning.

Your wife—the woman you fell head over heels for—was finally back. You couldn’t be happier. However, despite how much your relationship has improved….she had yet to touch you.

The thought lingered in your mind as you fought to push it away. Instead, you stared at Ambessa’s back as she undressed and got ready for bed. That didn’t help.

You continued to look at her as she switched off the lamp and climbed into bed beside you. You heard her breathe a sigh of relief before she reached over to give you a ‘goodnight’ kiss.

However, as she leaned in, you took her by her shoulders and gave her a deep,passionate kiss.

You could tell she had an initial reaction of surprise, but quickly recovered and leaned into the kiss. Your tongues and mouths collided as her large hands roamed your body.

Being the impatient woman she was, she started to undo the bralette you wore to bed. Her hands immediately began to knead your breast, and you moaned into her touch.

She buried her head into the crook of your neck and planted hard kissed onto the soft flesh as she practically rubbed herself against you. The heat in the room seemed to increase by the minute.

She pulled herself of you after a moment as she started to plant kissed on your chest and stomach. The redness in your cheeks spread throughout your body. She threw off the lacey underwear she wore and held your legs on either side of her head.

She pressed kissed into the insides of your thigh, and your heat was practically pulsing just as hard as your heart.

You moaned as she pressed a tantalizing kiss to your pussy, and practically came right there when she sent a lick to your slit.

Without any warning, she began to feast on your heat. Every lick, suck, and bite elicited a new sound from your lips, and every one was music to Ambessa’s ears.

You weaved your hands through her hair as you grind yourself against her face. Your toes curled as you recognized a familiar coil inside your stomach. And with a shout, it finally snapped.

You should feel Ambessa’s smile as she continued to lap at you through your orgasm.

You breathed heavily, trying to come down from your high. You heard Ambessa shuffling around through the drawer—and you already knew what she was looking for.

A soft blue glow radiated from her hand as she adjusted the Hex-strap on her hips.

You vividly remember receiving the strap on an anniversary. She never told you where she got it—or how she got it—but she put it to good use the same night.

“I can’t remember the last time we used this….”, she said more to herself than to you.

You were brought back to reality as she took you by the forearm and flipped you over as if you weighed nothing—and you didn’t to her. Your face was stuffed into a pillow as she arched your back, and you could already feel yourself clenching around nothing.

She rested one hand on your thigh as she spread you open and roughly inserted two fingers into your wet entrance. She pumped them in and out at a steady pace and you moaned into the pillow beneath you. You took your hand and started rubbing small circles over your clit—but Ambessa’s hand quickly replaced yours as she nipped your ear.

Your second climax that night soon came to you in waves as you relaxed against Ambessa’s shoulder. She didn’t give you much time to collect yourself as she aimed the strap at your dripping cunt. You took in a shaky breath as you felt her slide in. She leaned over your shoulder as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear and held both of your hands in hers. When she was finally in, she slid halfway out, and drove herself into you again—rougher this time.

She continued this act a few more times before she had a steady rhythm of going out and roughly driving back into you. You could feel her hips collide with your thighs and ass and her rough hands gripping your soft love handles. If not for her tight grip on your hips—your head would’ve collided with the intricately carved wooden headboard.

She continued this until you were both moaning and panting—sweat pooling on your brow. Her grip on your hands loosened as her own groans filled the room. Her hips lost its steady rhythm and became to more at a sloppy and frantic pace. You knew she was close, and you reached back to run your fingers through her hair and tug at it. She groaned at the action—but made no move to stop you. With one deep thrust, she came undone. She practically fell on top of you as you both panted, exhausted. She carefully pulled out the strap and threw it on the end of the bed. The two of you rolled over on one side and sighed in content.

You could tell she was tired as her breathing became heavier. She held you from behind and tightened her large hands around your waist. You looked over your shoulder was low eyes, “Tired already?”

She chuckled at your dig. “I’m getting old, y’know.”

In your younger days, the two of you would go at from moon up to sun up—only stopping because she had a meeting scheduled that morning. Then, when she was finished with the meeting—you’d go again just for the hell of it.

If she were a man, the two of you would’ve had an army of babies together.

You smiled, reminiscing in the past. You came back to the moment as she buried her head in your shoulder. You leaned back into her touch as your own eyes fell to a close, and sleep enveloped you like a warm blanket.

While your marriage wasn’t perfect—it was definitely improving.

One kiss at a time.

…….

Taglist: @maaaaaaaaaaari

A/N; Pretty in Pink coming soon…See you in 2025 🎀

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 2 - Invisibility

In which I write probably my most demented smut so far. Predator/prey. Buckle up, friends and enemies, cause that man gets REAL WEIRD in this one. Full-force Creachur Astarion.

On Ao3.

On the third day of Eleint, she comes to him. Her dark eyes are warm, her limbs loose, and he doesn’t even have to scent the air to know what’s going on between her legs.

“Would now be a good time?” she says.

Always, he wants to say, though that’s not always true. Sometimes, even now, the memories seep in and it’s all he can do not to shred his own skin with his claws.

But this is not one of those times. This is the third day of Eleint, his Eleanor has a glint to her eye, and they’ve discussed this subject at length.

Astarion snaps his book shut and lets it drop to the floor. Rolls to his feet to sweep her into his embrace and buries his face against her neck to breathe her in, slow and deep.

Warmth, life. Salt and clean.

Moon blood.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he says and means it. Can tell in her gaze she sees the truth of it.

They’ve planned for this. Extensively. His Eleanor does love her planning. She’s quite prepared.

He’s not even surprised when he follows her upstairs to their bedroom, and she pulls a pack from their wardrobe. Removes the items within and inventories them on the bed. He takes a small, velvet pouch she holds out, and his groin is already starting to tighten. From her scent, of course, and from what he knows this pouch will lead to.

She goes over The Plan again. They both need to be certain, after all. There’s not much on his end; neither of them expect much on his end once they start, save for her words “red light.” She’s used them before; by now they’re both comfortable with it and what comes after, even if it sometimes makes his guts squirm.

No pain follows it, though. Not ever. Not after red light, not after cub. Sometimes they resume, and sometimes they just…stop. Hold each other. Dress and move to the lounge. Sometimes she’ll get herself a bite to eat, and sometimes she’ll give him her wrist or her neck when he needs it.

She dressed carefully, this night, from an outfit she had folded in that pack. It’s cheap material. Far too flimsy for road travel, but it’s meant to be cheap, and he watches her slip the layers on and his cock begins to fill in earnest.

She does not wear her moon blood belt. She does not tuck rags into her trousers (her face flushes adorably as she slips nothing but a single pair of panties on, followed by said trousers).

He has to lean against the wall and keep his arms crossed. His own trousers become uncomfortable.

She notices that. Of course she does. Gives him a little smile, the minx.

“Ready?” she says.

He wants to push her to the floor and spread her legs and—

He steps away from the wall. “Very, my love.”

The teleportation spell is not his favorite, even if it is useful. For this, though, he swallows down his complaints (he’ll be swallowing down much more pleasant things tonight), and a moment later, they step onto soft grass.

It’s a lonely patch of woods. Or as lonely as any patch of untended woods can be. They’d scouted it some months back, when passing near the Bear’s newest little enclave. No one lives out here. No guards, no gaggles. No one to get the wrong idea or try to do something stupid and ruin the night for all involved.

There’s also no goblins or worgs or other worrisome beasts. Just the bunnies and other snacks.

The late summer heat clings to the air, but the wind already sweeps a soothing chill over his face. His Eleanor glances about, her poor, human ears straining, and looks to him.

“We’re all alone,” he says.

His fangs ache. The beds of his nails tingle as his claws threaten to sharpen. Alone out here, in the wilds, with her.

They look at each other for a long moment. He lets himself enjoy the way the silver moonlight—nearly full, lucky him—paints over her skin, sinks into her dark hair.

“You sure about your getup?” she says.

He’s wearing his home clothes, the ones he was loafing about it: a loose tunic tucked into his trousers. He hadn’t thought to change. Had only grabbed his city shoes while trying to adjust himself in his underthings.

He waves her off. “I can replace it.”

Gives her an appreciative sweep. She put on a light jacket and a pair of stays, as she would need the support. At least initially. But they’re the most basic pair she owns. Easy to mend. Or replace, should he get a little…rough.

Most of all, his gaze is drawn to the juncture of her thighs, and the small, dark patch just beginning to show itself.

He’s scenting the air, isn’t he.

He slips the velvet pouch from his pocket. It’s a small thing. Light. Holds only two, delicate golden ear cuffs, which spill into his palm as he tips it.

He slides the first one up, halfway between the lobe and the point. His Eleanor licks her lips like a degenerate. He’d had the initial idea for this outing, but she’d leapt on it, proposed all of these additions.

The other cuff pinches on his other ear. They’re rather plain, with only the hint of swirled knot work along the sides. But they warm his ears as he speaks the activation. The magic sinks into them and spreads like warm fingers (hers) over his ears.

Until the world muffles itself. The racing rodent hearts disappear. The thunderous pulse of his love fades to nothing. He flails in his mind a moment—not used to this, danger, if he can’t hear, if he’s trapped in silence again—

“Still okay?”

He catches her voice. He can focus on that. He’s deafened as an elf. As a vampire. But they tested these on her, and she notices no difference.

“You poor thing,” he says, because she has to live like this, in such a dim and dull world all the time.

She flips him off. Unfortunately for her, he’s close enough to snap at the offending finger. Slowly, of course. Gives her ample time to pull away and snort. Which makes him want to kiss her.

So he does. Luxuriates in her hot mouth, the slide of her tongue, her scent and that heavy, heady ambrosia of her moon blood.

Gods, he’s glad she doesn’t mind letting him feast upon her like this. He tries to remember the feel of his life before this, before the beach and the tadpoles, and he cannot fathom existing so long without this. Without her.

But before he can be carried away, his Eleanor takes a step back. Her cheeks are flushed. Neck reddened down to where her skin disappears beneath her light jacket and stays and under tunic. Her eyes are pools of heat, her lips already swollen.

Her moon blood—when not crippling her in pain—can sometimes spike her desire. This appears to be one of those times (gods below, there’s a damp spot high on his thigh where he’s already leaking).

She retrieves a bottle from the pack she’s secured to her person. Liquid silver sparkles in the moonlight. His nail beds tingle hard and this time he cannot stop the claws from forming.

“You’re sure?” he says.

His delightful contradiction, no longer a virgin but having lost none of her hidden boldness, only says, “Close your eyes.”

He does.

A year or two ago, he wouldn’t have. Blindness meant vulnerability. Meant unseen blows to unprotected places. Meant clawing starvation hollowing his guts and drying out his flesh, his throat so withered he could barely produce a sound that wasn’t a deathly, rattling click.

Now, as he obeys, a shudder of anticipation shivers down his spine.

He can just hear her uncork the bottle. Cannot hear her swallowing, or the air in her lungs, or the way he imagines her own heart races in lust and anticipation.

Nor can he hear her shift closer. Not until the rustle of fabric reaches him, right in front of him. And the scent of her blood suddenly surges. His lips part as he gasps, and his demented little love sticks two, wet fingers into his mouth and the taste blinds him to anything else.

“Trackers need a sample scent, right?” she says.

She’s stuck her hand down her trousers. She’s smeared his lips and tongue with her blood. Lets him suckle desperately a moment before she steps away, and he’s left to wipe his mouth to ensure no drop escapes.

“You are utterly deranged,” he says.

“Pot kettle,” she says, another of her people’s charming sayings.

She falls silent after that. Astarion keeps his eyes closed, searching the spaces between his teeth with his tongue for any last hints of her.

“Darling?” he says after a moment.

No answer.

His cock throbs. His claws fully extend, his fangs aching.

He counts to forty three times. Opens his eyes.

He’s alone. The clearing is empty, with no trace of his darling. Nothing but her scent floating in the air, an invitation to him.

He nudges the empty bottle she left at his feet. It’s not like her to waste anything. Which means this is a taunt. The cuffs deafen his ears to her, a potion of invisibility blinds his eyes to her. All he has to track her is scent. Her skin, her hair, and the dizzying harpy song of one of his most favorite things: her blood.

He has one job. Well, two, but they’re the same in the end.

Track her. Hunt her. Capture her.

And take her. Any way he sees fit (that they’ve discussed, and she was quite open). Her blood, her body, her sex. She’ll try to evade him. But he will find her. He’ll plunge into her, first with his fangs, then with his cock. Or perhaps the other way around. Perhaps both at the same time. He’s not sure. Didn’t bother to plan that far, because that’s what she likes to do.

He sucks air deep into his lungs: plush grass (her plush thighs on his hips), damp earth (her wet cunt pulling him in), the almost sweet smell of late-summer leaves (her arousal thick as he slips his tongue against her).

There she is. Headed immediately for the thickest part of the underbrush. Hoping to hide her tracks, hide her trail, slow him down.

He imagines her crouched behind a tree. The startle as he grabs her, spins her, pressing her to that tree and the way she’d moan as he slipped inside her…

He reaches into his undergarments and adjusts his cock. Running like this won’t be fun, but it’ll be so, so worth it once he finds his devious darling.

He stops at the edge of the underbrush. Looks to the closest tree: a large oak. They’re all large, with wide, thick branches nearly touching.

Astarion ponders a moment, and then slips off his shoes. He doesn’t technically need to, but it seems the sort of thing to do.

Sets his bare foot on the rough bark, and scurries right up the side of the trunk into the canopy above.

Brush doesn’t matter to a godsdamned immortal vampire, after all.

***

The rest is on AO3 because I wrote like 14k for this, goddamn, and also for the horny.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Waiting for Superman

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: fluff

Summary: For decades, you’ve been coasting through life thinking you’ll never find “the one” until you take Spencer to a bookstore, and he manages to find something to pass the time.

Square Filled: waiting for superman by daughtry for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Spencer loves books. He reads nearly twenty of them in a week. However, he is a fan of nonfiction, not fiction like you love. The new bookstore that just opened near your house only had fiction books stocked, nothing that would ever catch Spencer’s eyes. Still, he goes because it’s what you love.

Most people who know Spencer know that he is patient, calculating, thoughtful, and very friendly. That all gets thrown out the window when he comes to the bookstore with you. He’s like an impatient child who only comes along because he has to. He gets bored very easily since his big brain is always running away from him, so it takes a lot to keep him engaged. It’s why he’s so good at his job. His mind is constantly engaged by whatever unsub has made it to the briefing room.

Spencer huffs as he follows you around the bookstore, and you pick a romance book off the shelf.

“You know you didn't have to come with me.”

“I want to hang out with you, even if it means being in here.”

“How romantic,” you roll your eyes playfully.

“Are you almost done? I know of another bookstore that has books we’d both like.”

“Spencer, this one is closer, and we have to meet my parents for lunch. If we went to the other one, we wouldn’t get back until late.” Spencer leans against the bookshelf and is quiet for maybe five seconds. “Okay, how about you go to the cafe and get something to drink, yeah?”

Spencer grumbles but doesn’t answer you. You go back to reading the backs of books, pushing Spencer aside in your mind. He leaves your side to go find something else to do. If this is Spencer’s only flaw, then you consider yourself pretty lucky. You were at the point in your life where you thought you’d be alone forever.

Every date you went on, you weren't connecting to anyone. Either they were too boring, too stinky, too full of themselves, or they had their eyes on other girls. None of them were ever right until you met Spencer. He kept his attention on you every time you two were together, always put your first, and made sure to remember every detail you’d tell him about yourself.

Okay, that last one is his natural ability to remember everything, but he made a conscious decision to do it.

You spent what felt like a lifetime for someone like Spencer, so you’re not going to let him go that easily.

Over the next hour, you read and grab books that are interesting to you until you have a pile in your hands. You had just gotten paid and felt like spending a chunk of your paycheck on books. Knowing there is nothing for Spencer in here, you search for him in the small bookstore. He’s upstairs sitting in a book nook with half a dozen kids sitting around him. Their parents are near just watching Spencer read a book to them.

His eyes are wide, he does funny voices for the characters, and he engages each of the kids in the story he’s reading. You set your books down on a table and lean against it, content with watching him. Each kid is mesmerized and hooked to every word he’s saying, and the parents don’t mind the nice break from their children.

“What about the dragon? Who is going to slay it?” a child asks.

“Princess Annabelle is.” All the children gasp. “I know. Usually, the prince does but I think Princess Annabelle is tired of waiting for someone to do it for her. Let’s see how she does it.”

Spencer flips to the next page and continues to the story. He looks up and locks eyes with you, and you give him a slow-growing smile.

It’s right here and now that you’ve decided this is the man you’re going to marry. You’ve been waiting decades for your Superman to show up, and it’s been in front of your face the whole time.

x

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[amysteryspot]

A Woman's Worth - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Anthony tries to salvage what's left of his marriage and discovers what his wife is truly worth. (Part one)

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV Show)

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, cheating and lots of angst. English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread.

Word Count: 4648

A/N: After so long, this piece is finally here. Thanks for patiently waiting and thanks @cevansgoodgirl for the help.

There is a mix of a scene with Laurie and Amy in Little Women and another one with Benedict and Tessa (the model/painter in 02x05), just so you know.

He remembers the first time he saw her—really saw her.

The (Y/L/N)s were guests in Aubrey House, and (Y/N) was in the balcony with Benedict while both their mothers and most of their siblings were in the lawn.

Anthony is not even sure what drew his attention when he was passing by, he did not have a habit of eavesdropping, but he got himself held back when his brother commented on (Y/N)’s painting.

"I declare that's rather good." Benedict said making (Y/N) huff.

“We both know that good is not enough, Ben.” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Anthony could understand what his brother was talking about. The painting was a rendition of the scene unfolding before them—their siblings playing around while their mothers watched over them. It was rather good, indeed.

"It doesn’t matter, there's no place for me to do art."

Benedict frowned. "That's quite the statement to make at twenty. If you don't think you're good enough you have plenty of time to try some more, do better." He pauses, poking her. "You say that to me all the time."

"Then perhaps inform the academy.” She says, sarcasm dripping in every word. “Although two of the founding members are women, we are still not allowed to enter the classroom. It doesn't matter how much money we do or do not have."

"At least not while clothed." He comments, making (Y/N) throw the rag she was holding at him, which Benedict swiftly catches, changing the subject. "Well, now that you’ve given up all your artistic hopes, what are you going to do with your life?”

“Polish up my other talents and be an ornament to society.”

It was as if Anthony was seeing his sister speak.

“You sound like Eloise.” Benedict took the words out of Anthony’s mouth.

“Maybe she has been rubbing up on me.” (Y/N) smiled.

“You are searching for a husband, then?” Benedict asks, helping her pack her things.

“Yes.” She replies sheepishly.

“That's where Mr Scott comes in, I suppose.”

Anthony had noticed how Mr Scott had taken an interest in (Y/N), he never thought she felt the same.

Benedict continued. “You’ll accept him if he comes down properly on one knee?”

“Most likely, yes.” She said, pausing to look ahead for a moment. “He’s rich, respectable.”

When Benedict stifles a laugh, she lightly slaps his arm and Anthony has to fight back a smile. “Don’t make fun.” (Y/N) reprimands him.

"I’m not, I’m not, I promise.” He pauses. “It does sound odd coming from you.”

"I've always known that I would marry rich. Why should I be ashamed of that?"

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as you love him." Benedict answers in a more serious tone.

Once upon a time Anthony would have easily seen himself at his brother's place, talking about love, but not anymore.

"Well, I believe we have some power over who we love, it isn't something that just happens to a person." (Y/N) says, closing the trunk with her paints, pencils and brushes inside.

"I think the poets might disagree." Benedict offers softly.

"Well, I'm not a poet, I'm just a woman.” She reminds him. “And as a woman I have no way to make money, not enough to earn a living and support my family. Even if I had my own money, which I don't, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married. If we had children they would belong to him not me. They would be his property. So don't stand there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it certainly is for me."

For the first time since he stopped to hear the conversation, hiding himself between the curtains, Anthony felt like he had overstepped a boundary, so he made quick work of fleeing the scene, her words echoing inside his head.

Anthony remembers Benedict joking about how him and (Y/N) would make a good match. He listens as his brother tells him about the conversation he had with her and Anthony feigns ignorance to the subject, despite having heard the entire interaction. Benedict’s voice turns into white noise in the background as Anthony is transported back to a conversation he had with Daphne last season.

At the time he didn’t understand his sister’s words—perhaps, he never would. Daphne and (Y/N) shared the same struggles, but his sister had been set in marrying for love, (Y/N), on the other hand, had already resigned herself about having to marry for convenience.

It was then that Anthony recognized that the both of them were, indeed, a good match. (Y/N) was beautiful, well mannered, educated and very good at charming people. She came from a not very rich but respectable family. Anthony knew he was one of the most eligible bachelors of the season, despite his fame as a rake. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice to marry (Y/N), which made making the decision so much easier.

Anthony visited her the next day, explaining his proposal to her.

“You listened to us?” She blinked a couple of times, trying to digest the information.

“Yes,” he confessed, “and I’m terribly sorry for it, but we have to recognize that this might have been for the best.”

He observed as she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, a little frown on her face. She was beautiful this way. Even more than when she was charming half of the ton in the many social events he had seen her.

“If you don’t mind me asking, my lord, why marry now?”

Anthony sighed. “My mom has been forcing my hand since Daphne married. Even before that, if I’m being honest. It’s time to find a good wife, settle down, and fulfill my duties.”

“Don’t take my question as an offense, but why me?”

She seemed unable to quite grasp his words. Anthony wondered if she still hoped, deep down, to marry for love and that her conversation with his brother had been only a fickle attempt to protect herself.

“You’re intelligent, (Y/N),” He kneeled in front of her. “You are beautiful and your family is respectable. If you are serious about your words to my brother, we both want the same thing from such a union.” He paused. “Would it be so bad to be married to me?”

(Y/N) bit her lip and Anthony caught himself observing the action with a little more intent than he should.

“No, my lord, I believe it wouldn’t,” she said.

“Then why not make the best we can from a predicament we can’t escape?”

She averted his gaze, looking out to the balcony where her maid was sitting and reading a book, while watching over them.

Anthony took the opportunity to look at her—hair carefully brushed and pinned up, the way the light contrasted with her silhouette, making it easier to see her nose, her lips, the  curve of her neck…

“If I were to accept your proposition, would you be committed to this relationship?”

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I know that for our society standards maybe that’s too much to ask, but if I can’t be loved I’d wish to at least be respected.” She looked straight into his eyes and then Anthony understood what she was asking of him.

“You have my word that once we are engaged the only woman in my life will be you.”

Anthony asked her father for permission to court her in the same day, then he got properly down on one knee a second time to ask for her hand in marriage, the two of them married within months. Benedict had been shocked by the whole ordeal, but all he cared about was seeing his brother and his friend at least a little bit happy.

The process of knowing each other had been smooth, a lot easier than what Anthony first anticipated. (Y/N) took her duties as the lady of the house seriously, making a point of listening to Violet quite often. His siblings seemed to adore her even more than they liked him, and although inexperienced, as he knew she was, (Y/N) had proved herself to be a good lover. For all of those reasons, Anthony thought that keeping his promise wouldn’t be such an impossible task.

Then he discovered that Sienna had never left town and Anthony, who always prided himself in being a man of his word, proved himself to be as bad as the rest of the men he was surrounded by.

He fell back into the sheets with Sienna, and not long after that his relationship with (Y/N) became purely a show. At first, Anthony thought his wife was oblivious to his escapades, but he had clearly underestimated (Y/N)’s intelligence.

They never shared a bedroom, but there was no disguising how his visits to her chambers happened less and less, as there was no denying the gossip of the house staff that could only lead her to his broken promises.

Anthony expected a fight, things being thrown at him, screams and hits, but they never came, and that was somewhat worse.

One night when he got home after meeting Sienna, (Y/N) was sitting in the dressing room between their chambers, knitting. She lifted her eyes from her work to bid him good night. It didn’t go unnoticed to him how her smile fell from her face as she took in his disheveled state. Anthony felt ashamed for the first time in years.

(Y/N) didn’t give him time to explain himself for being so late—maybe it was for the best because he honestly didn’t know if he could find a suitable excuse for that—she just got up, leaving her unfinished work resting in the loveseat, and marched to her room.

Anthony sighed, throwing his coat away carelessly. The force knocked out (Y/N)’s knitting to the ground and Anthony groaned before bending down to take it. He furrowed his brow when he recognized the pattern—an onesie.

Maybe Daphne was pregnant again? She would’ve told him, right? Simon would, for sure. Then it hit him. Holding the unfinished piece between his fingers, Anthony realized that that was the reason why (Y/N) had stayed awake waiting for him until that hour—she was pregnant and wanted to tell him the news. Instead of the happiness she must have expected, she only received the sight of an unfaithful husband and a broken marriage.

(Y/N) never mentioned it to him and Anthony pretended as if he didn’t know, waiting for her to make the first move, tell him at her own time. (Y/N) never said it though, but he couldn’t ignore the knowledge, and the more time he passed observing her, the more evident it became to him that his wife was, in fact, expecting their first child.

In no time she distanced herself from him and all came to the point of no return in the night where she had gone through the loss of their child alone while he was rolling in the sheets with Sienna.

Anthony tried to reach out to her, succeeding only one time, a week after that fateful night, but in the following weeks, there hadn’t been much talking between them. (Y/N) would barely answer his greetings or the occasional question he threw her way trying to start a conversation. They had a few events to attend and these were the only occasions where she would grant him more than a couple of words. Anthony knew that that was all pretend for the sake of their reputation.

She refused every attempt he made to apologize or explain himself—not that there was much to explain. He couldn’t blame her, even if he wanted her forgiveness. It was her right to hate him and not want him around after he broke his promise to her.

They had never talked about it. Not until today.

(Y/N) was holding Augie, smiling down at the baby that smiled back at her, barely blinking with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

“This one seems really enchanted by you,” Daphne comments, caressing her son’s little fingers.

“He’s just getting used to me,” (Y/N) answered,  smiling at his sister.

“Well, it’s good training, since I guess you and Anthony will probably have one of your own soon.”

Is as if Anthony’s blood turns to ice. He looks at his wife whose expression turns into shock and then sadness in the blink of an eye. He recognizes the tears pooling in her eyes as she gives the baby back to Daphne and excuses herself, leaving the drawing room too quick not to draw attention.

He hurries back after her. Simon gives him an apologetic look to which Anthony answers with an equally sad smile. It doesn’t take him long to find her, bend down in the windowsill of one of the windows of the library, one hand covering her mouth to muffle her sobbing while the other rested on her belly.

(Y/N) doesn’t hear his approach, but when he touches her as if she was expecting him too. She jumps as far away from him as she can get as if his touch burned her.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” she doesn’t finish the sentence but Anthony could hear it loud and clear in his head.

Don’t touch me with the same hands you’ve touched her just a week ago.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Anthony reassures her, raising his hands so she can see them. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me too, but I want to help you.”

“Nobody can help me,” she sobs, hands clutching tightly at her dress.

The sight breaks his heart. Anthony wants nothing more than to take her pain away and make it his, even though he is mourning the loss of their child with her. He knew her pain was fairly worse than his, she did not only lose a child but she had been losing her husband too.

“Why, Anthony? Why us? There are so many couples that don’t love each other and still have children, why can’t we?”

Anthony takes a step forward, then two, and then he’s bringing her into his arms, wrapping her tightly against his chest, his chin resting at the top of her head. She struggles against his touch a little, but she’s so worn out that it doesn’t take much for her to relax into him.

(Y/N) fists the lapels of his waistcoat, resting her forehead against his chest, letting herself cry.

“I wanted them so bad, Anthony,” she whispers between sobs, “so bad.”

Me too, he wants to answer. Me too.

They stay in the library, in silence, for a while. When (Y/N) finally stops crying, exhausted, Anthony takes her home without even saying goodbye to his family, sending a maid to let them know his wife was not feeling well.

Their relationship shifts after that day. (Y/N) appears so exhausted by the recent events that slowly, she starts to let her guard down again. Anthony is careful when dealing with her, his wife is fragile and the sadness in her runs so deep that he is always afraid to say or do something that will put her through more pain.

“You don’t have to worry so much, you know.” She says, making him look up from his papers to see her already staring back at him.

“I always worry.”

“I won’t break if we talk about it,” she guarantees. “We have to talk about it.”

Anthony is not sure if she’s talking about their baby or Sienna. Either way it wasn’t exactly a conversation he was eager to have.

“How are you?” He asks before he can contain himself. Anthony wanted to ask that for a while but never found the opportunity.

“Healing,” she answers, “or trying to.”

He nods, nervously picking at his nails.

“When did you discover?” She asks.

“The onesie.” He looks up at her.

“The onesie,” she scoffs.

“You were… waiting for me?” His question is almost inaudible, full of regret and shame, but Anthony knows that she heard him.

“Yes,” she answers, “I was.” There’s a pause, and then the blow to his face. “Obviously you were occupied with more important matters, my lord.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I know about her,” she confesses. “I’ve always known, just didn’t want to acknowledge it and have to face the fact that my husband, the one that promised to respect me, at least, had so quickly forgotten his own word.”

“It’s not your fault.” He tries to explain but it seems like (Y/N) has had enough of silence.

“Oh, I know, my lord. This is entirely your fault.” She paused. “And hers. Not that it will matter for anyone, I’ll be the one to blame, after all.”

Her words cut through him the same way they did the week after her miscarriage: it’s always the woman’s fault. Hers or Sienna’s, it didn’t matter. Anthony would never understand the full extent of the pain it was to be a woman in their society, he would never fully understand how much he put her through and yet, would never be blamed for it.

There’s no answer to her words, no explanation for his behavior or broken promises. All he can do is watch her swallow the tears that were threatening to fall and take a deep breath. Anthony opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

“That night,” she says, “the night I… lost our child. You were with her.”

It wasn’t a question, but Anthony felt the need to answer it anyway, his voice low with shame.

“Yes.”

“I see,” she hums.

“If I could go back—”

“The outcome would have been the same.” She says.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I should have been there for you.”

“Yes, you should have.”

Anthony always knew that, since the moment he put foot inside their house and heard her screams, but hearing her say it had another weight.

“Are you still seeing her?” She asks, looking at him.

“No, it won’t happen again.”

(Y/N) scoffs. “Forgive me if I have trouble believing in it, my lord.”

“I know I haven’t been a good husband. God, I have been barely a good man since we married, but I promise you, I’ll learn from my mistakes and I’ll do better by you. I’ll be a better man, a better husband, one that you deserve and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get close to deserve you.”

The following days, they start to talk more during meals, and the silence that falls between them when they’re both at the drawing room—Anthony working and (Y/N) reading—is not uncomfortable anymore. Each day that passes makes Anthony believe that they can fall back into the friendship they had right after they married.

He doesn’t see Sienna again. Anthony sends her a letter telling her that they should stop seeing each other because he doesn’t want to hurt his wife anymore. Which is the truth. Every time he thinks about the last time he met Sienna, his wife’s cries of pain and sorrow plague his mind and he just can’t see himself hurting her even more than he already had without even realizing it.

Anthony watches her playing with Gregory and Hyacinth in the garden. His younger siblings are fighting for her attention but she doesn’t seem to mind, going back and forth in between the two of them with ease. Then she looks at him, a huge smile on her face that made him smile too. Her attention was quickly snatched from him to his siblings again and Anthony felt a pang of jealousy in his chest—he didn’t want to share her attention.

In the past few weeks, Anthony discovered that his wife was more than the character of the perfect wife that she played for the ton. She was very much real and very much a woman with desires and ambitions. Everything that happened between then made her more bold, she didn’t take his poor excuses anymore, she talked openly about all sorts of things and Anthony caught himself wanting to listen.

“Hum, did you finally realize that you got a diamond in your hands, then?”

Anthony turned his head to look at Benedict, who had a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

His relationship with Benedict was stranded since his brother discovered about Sienna. Anthony didn’t blame Benedict, he was friend’s with his wife since they were kids. He only had himself to blame for being so foolish.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anthony answered, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t observing their siblings with (Y/N).

“Keep lying to yourself then,” Benedict smirked, turning away to leave.

Anthony called after him. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Benedict sighed. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you. I just expected more from my brother.”

“I know,” he agrees. Benedict makes a move to go out the door, and then comes back, pulling Anthony into a hug.

“Look, I could say a thousand things to you, but nothing will undo what’s done.” Benedict says when they part, a hand resting on Anthony’s shoulder. “Just… learn from your mistakes and do better. You’re my brother and I love you, but trust me when I say that you don't deserve (Y/N). Can you imagine what mother would have done to our father if they ever found themselves in the same situation?”

“They loved each other,” Anthony protested to prevent his mind from wandering.

“You are truly oblivious, brother of mine.” Benedict scoffed.

His brother’s word haunted him for the rest of the day and all the way back to their home. Always perceptive, his change in behavior didn’t go unnoticed by (Y/N).

“What happened,” she asked when they were alone in the dressing room.

Anthony hummed, turning around to look at her and trying not to get distracted by her beauty as she braided her own hair after taking off the jewelry.

“Nothing.”

Her reflection raises a brow at him.

“Do better,” she warns, getting up and walking up to him, face softening as she stands in front of him. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

He nods, taking one of her hands and bringing it to his face. Anthony’s eyes close.

“Is it about her?”

The question gets him off guard. His eyes open instantly to look at her and he drops (Y/N)’ hand instantly.

“No,” he answers, “no,” he adds firmly, cradling her face in between his hands. “There is no one else in my life but you. There won’t be no one else in my life but you.”

“Anthony…” She breaths, closing her eyes as her delicate hands take hold of his wrists.

He wants nothing more than to kiss her, but refrains. It’s not the time for that. They’re both healing and he doesn’t want to taint whatever it is they’re creating by getting ahead of himself. Instead, Anthony presses his lips to her hair, inhaling her scent.

“Stay with me tonight,” he pleads, not sure where the urge to stay close to her came from. Anthony expects her to put up a fight, but (Y/N) only nods, murmuring an okay, before guiding him to her room.

It’s the first time since that fateful night that the both of them sleep through it, getting up later than usual the other day.

Their first kiss after everything that threatened to push them apart for good, happens so suddenly that none of them expects it.

(Y/N) had received the news that one of her younger sisters was going to marry the man she loves, her happiness made her throw herself at him and before either of them could realize, they were kissing each other.

It was just a chaste peck on the lips at the beginning. When they realized what had just happened they parted, his wife didn’t bother to step away from him to escape his embrace. They just stared at each other, eyes flicking between their eyes and their lips and then she placed a hand at the back of his neck, bringing him close to seal their lips again.

Anthony responded in kind, his hands on her waist, traveling up her back as he tasted her. It was like he was kissing her for the first time. They were discovering each other again, learning what each other felt like.

Desperately, Anthony wanted to discover what the strange feeling at the pit of his stomach was. Since before they married (Y/N) made him feel different, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He pushed it down to the depths of his mind—the last thing he needed was feeling something other than respect and partnership for his wife.

He protested when (Y/N) parted her lips from his and it took him a second to notice Benedict standing at the door, a smirk on his lips.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know that our mother is waiting for (Y/N) downstairs. Something about the charity?”

“Oh,” his wife exclaimed, “I had forgotten about it,” she said, wriggling herself away from his arms, making Anthony growl in frustration.

If she noticed, (Y/N) made a good job at ignoring it. The same couldn’t be said about his brother.

“I figured,” Benedict smirked.

“Not a word,” (Y/N) warned as she passed him by, slapping his arm playfully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Anthony watched as she turned around, stealing one last glance at him before disappearing and taking his breath away with her.

“Huh,” Benedict hummed, “I see.”

Rolling his eyes, Anthony asked, “And what do you see, dear brother?”

“You love her.”

“Nonsense,” he protested, “we’re just good partners.”

“Good partners don’t kiss like that.”

The ride home was silent, but Anthony’s heart fluttered in his chest when (Y/N) searched for his hand. Could Benedict be right? Did he really fall in love with his wife? He frowned while looking out of the window of the carriage and (Y/N) might have noticed it, because she made a move to take her hand away from him. Anthony didn’t let her.

“What’s going on in your mind?”

“Something Benedict said to me.”

“If it is about the kiss, don’t mind him. It won’t happen again.”

Anthony looked at her exasperated.

“I surely hope you’re not serious about that.”

“Anthony…”

“How can I live without your kisses again is unknown to me.”

“You lived quite well without them all your life,” she smiles, shyly.

“But now that I know them, I can’t anymore.”

Painfully slowly, she moves closer, giving him the chance to meet her halfway and bring their lips together again.

It’s like a breath of fresh air on a hot summer day and Anthony can’t seem to get enough of her. They get so distracted that they don’t even realise the carriage has stopped in front of the house until the door is open.

Recomposing themselves, he observes as (Y/N) giggles at the situation and feels his heart flutter at the image.

As they prepare to retire for the night, Anthony stops for a minute before following her into her room—he has been doing that for quite a few nights.

When she notices that he hasn’t entered the bedroom, (Y/N) looks back at him with a frown.

“Anything’s wrong?”

Anthony smiles, “No, nothing’s wrong,” he answers, as she extends her hand for him to take, and they retire for the night.

[thursdayinspace]

So, who agrees that revival Mulder and Scully have zero fucks left to give once they're back together? And like having fun without restraint or regrets? Even when they're on the phone with their boss? Anyway, here's a smutty little thing.

Ever since she moved back in, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. It doesn’t matter what kinds of plans they make on their days off, sooner or later they end up on the couch making out like teenagers, and most of the time it ends with at least one orgasm.

He’s on his back on the couch and she’s on top of him when his phone rings, and he groans. There’s only one reason they’d be getting a call on a Saturday.

“We could ignore it,” she whispers against his lips, and he wants to agree, but they both know that’s not an option.

“We can’t.”

“I know.”

She sits up and he snatches his phone off the coffee table. “Yes?” He knows he sounds annoyed, but Skinner is used to it by now. Mulder feels a little sorry, but also he’s reconnecting with the love of his life after a separation that was really hard on both of them, and he’d just like to be allowed one afternoon without being interrupted.

There’s been sudden progress on a case they’d written off as unsolvable days ago. Of course there is. “I’m sorry, but this really can’t wait,” Skinner says, and Mulder runs a hand over his face with a deep sigh.

“Not even an hour or two?”

As he listens to Skinner giving him details on an investigation that he really doesn’t fucking care about right now, Scully slides off the couch onto the floor and he raises his eyebrows at her in question. She gives him a wicked smile and reaches for his fly, and his eyes widen as he realizes what she’s about to do. His erection that had been flagging at the sound of their boss’s voice is back in a second and he feels a bit dizzy, but obediently lifts his hips as she pulls his pants down right along with his underwear and tugs them off his legs. Skinner is still talking, but Mulder stops listening as Scully wraps her hand firmly around him and slides him into her mouth.

“—probably won’t take long,” Skinner is saying, and Mulder squeezes his eyes shut.

“No, it won’t,” he agrees. He has no idea what they’re talking about. He cards his free hand through Scully’s hair, careful not to pull too hard.

Scully bobs her head experimentally a few times, and then sinks lower and simply swallows him down without warning.

“Fuck,” Mulder says, and Skinner makes a noise of assent on the other end of the line.

“Yes, it’s an unexpected development.”

“You could say that.” The words fall from his lips through a sharp exhale. He bites his lip and drops his head back against the couch as Scully pulls back up slowly with her tongue pressed to the underside of his cock.

Skinner is reading out an address to him now and he does his best to listen while trying not to whimper and beg as Scully’s talented mouth does something amazing to the tip of his cock, and god he needs to end this phone call. Right now.

“Anyway,” Skinner says, “they found—”

The rest of the sentence gets lost in a spike of heat as Scully takes his balls in her hand. He’s gonna combust. He’s finally gonna prove to her once and for all that spontaneous human combustion is a real thing that happens to real people. She’s licking his dick like a fucking popsicle now as she fondles him and he looks down at her, angling the phone away from his mouth, hoping it will keep Skinner from hearing his shaky, heavy breathing.

“Agent Mulder?” he hears. “Do you agree?”

“Uhhn,” he gets out. “ Yeah. Uhhhh. Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“God,” he whispers as Scully wraps her lips around him again, her hand jerking off the part of him her mouth can’t reach. “I mean good. Yeah. Very good.”

There’s silence for a moment before Skinner asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Mmmmhmm,” he answers. “Great. Perfect.”

“So you’re on your way?”

“Oh, yes,” he says enthusiastically, heart hammering in his chest, every muscle in his body clenching up as he spirals closer and closer to the edge. “I’m definitely coming.”

“With agent Scully.”

“She’s gonna come to,” Mulder promises, and he’s never been more grateful for anything in his life when he hears the call disconnect. He drops the phone and finally lets himself moan out loud as Scully slides her mouth down again and back up, sucking him hard, cheeks hollowed out.

He comes so hard he blacks out for a second, vaguely aware of her stroking him through it, his thighs trembling as his hips buck up into her wonderful, hot mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he pants once the world swims back into focus, and he watches her wipe her mouth before climbing into his lap. She takes his hand to guide it between her thighs. At some point, she must have taken her own pants off.

She’s so fucking wet. His fingers slip into her and she grips his wrist tightly as she frantically rides his hand. It takes seconds before she cries out and comes, her free hand fisted into the fabric of his shirt, and he’s never seen anything hotter in his life.

They end up the way they started: he on his back and Scully on top of him, panting and boneless.

“That was…” he says.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“Do you think Skinner could tell?”

She chuckles softly. “Does it matter?”

“No,” he says. It doesn’t. Nothing matters except her. “You’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” she says. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughs and hugs her tight. They’ll have to get going soon, but he thinks they’re allowed five more minutes.