#i wanted violet's garden to be cared for again

[cactusfinch]

me when i realized that the Violet & Agatha b-plot was not building towards a beautiful middle-aged, lesbian romance but the reveal that Agatha fucked Violet's dad forty years ago: 😔

[belladonnaprice]

.

[tulipatheticee]

i've been waiting for you

violet bridgerton x youngest! daughter

bridgerton siblings x younger! sibling

synopsis; From the moment Edmund Bridgerton passed, leaving his wife widowed with eight children and one on the way, Violet found herself adrift until the arrival of Isadora, her youngest daughter. Isadora, quiet and calm, becomes Violet's constant companion in bustling Mayfair, offering solace and steadfast support at her mother's side.

word count; 1.3k

master list

a/n; i have arisen yet again, this is my first bridgerton fic so hello to the brigderton tag! i have archived all my old stuff because they are old and tbh the fandoms have died SO LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF

my name is tulippa and im from sicily, im pretty confident in my english now but let me know if you see any errors! i mainly write fluffy family stuff like this, i love it idk. if you like this and want to see more like it let me know and ill provide for you! but its not like i wont write x reader romance cmon of course i will, but im best at parentxchild and siblings (PLATONIC ALWAYS DONT BE WEIRD) anyways i could go on and on but i wont, enjoy!!!

kinda proof read, kinda not, you've been warned

I'll carry you all the way

Violet Bridgerton had weathered many storms in her life, but none so devastating as the loss of her beloved husband, Edmund. His passing left her shattered, a widow with eight children to care for and another on the way. The pregnancy was fraught with complications, exacerbated by Violet's grief and the toll it took on her health.

Days turned into months as Violet withdrew into herself, mourning Edmund's absence even as life continued around her. Her family rallied, but Violet's sorrow was a heavy veil that separated her from them. It was during those long, solitary hours that she felt the weight of loneliness and the fear of losing both husband and child.

And you'll choose the day

The labour came unexpectedly, fierce and unforgiving. Violet's strength waned, her heart weary from loss and longing. The doctors and midwives worked tirelessly, their faces etched with concern. Hours passed like eternity until finally, a cry pierced the air—a fragile, yet determined cry that signalled new life.

Isadora was born amidst tears and relief, a tiny bundle of hope wrapped in Violet's trembling arms. The room, once fraught with fear, now glowed with a soft, golden light as mother and daughter gazed at each other for the first time. In that moment, everything seemed to still, and Violet knew she had been granted a miracle.

When you're prepared to greet me

She named her daughter Isadora, after the delicate Dahlia flower that Edmund had loved tending in their garden—a reminder of the beauty that bloomed even in the darkest of times.

As Isadora grew, she became Violet's constant companion, a beacon of joy and innocence in the Bridgerton household. Her older siblings doted on her, especially Anthony, Benedict, and Colin, who saw in her a reflection of their lost father's spirit. Isadora's laughter filled the halls of Bridgerton House and her curious mind sought solace in the quiet moments spent with her mother.

One afternoon, in the hushed serenity of the drawing room, Isadora sat at the pianoforte while Violet embroidered nearby. The soft melodies Isadora coaxed from the keys wove through the air, a testament to her growing talent and Violet's nurturing guidance.

"Does this sound right, Mama?" Isadora asked, her voice a melody in itself.

Violet looked up from her embroidery, a fond smile gracing her lips. "It sounds perfect, darling. You have a gift."

Isadora beamed with pride, her small hands continuing their dance over the keys. Despite her tender age, she played with a grace that belied her years, a testament to the bond she shared with her mother and the legacy of love that surrounded her.

I'll be a good mum, I swear

Anthony, Benedict, and Colin entered the room together, their voices low with shared memories and unspoken affection for their youngest sister. Anthony, ever the protective eldest brother, approached Isadora and knelt beside her.

"How are you today, Isa?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"I am well, Anthony," Isadora replied, her gaze never leaving the keys. "Mama teaches me a new piece every day."

"Is that so?" Benedict chimed in, leaning over to peer at the sheet music. "You are quite talented, little one."

"Indeed," Colin added with a smile. "Father would have been proud."

Violet's heart swelled with bittersweet emotion at the mention of Edmund. She had feared she might forget the sound of his voice or the warmth of his touch, but in Isadora, she found echoes of him that kept his memory alive.

You'll see how much I care

"Mama, are you well?" Isadora asked suddenly, sensing the shift in her mother's mood.

Violet blinked back tears, her hand reaching out to clasp Isadora's. "I am well, my love. I am with you, and that is enough."

Isadora nodded solemnly, her understanding far beyond her years. Together, they continued their afternoon ritual, finding solace in music and shared moments that bridged the gap between past sorrows and future joys.

When you meet me

------------

In the sunlit gardens of Bridgerton House, where the scent of roses mingled with the laughter of children, Isadora found herself in the company of her older sister, Hyacinth, and brother, Gregory. Despite their lively spirits, they adapted to Isadora's quieter demeanour, creating a harmony that transcended their differences.

You thrill me, you delight me

"Isa, look what I found!" Hyacinth exclaimed, holding a caterpillar in her small hands with excitement.

Isadora approached cautiously, her eyes widening with curiosity. "Oh, wow! What is it?"

Gregory, always eager to share his knowledge, chimed in, "It's a caterpillar, Isa! Hyacinth and I were just talking about how it turns into a butterfly."

Hyacinth nodded eagerly. "Yes, Isa! It's like magic! One day, it will have beautiful wings and fly everywhere!"

Isadora's face lit up with wonder. "That's amazing! Can I hold it?"

Hyacinth carefully passed the caterpillar to Isadora, who watched it crawl across her palm with fascination. Gregory leaned in, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Let's play tag, Isa! You're it!"

You please me, you excite me

Isadora giggled as Gregory darted away, Hyacinth joining in the chase. "Catch us if you can, Isa!"

Isadora laughed, her heart light as she chased after her siblings through the garden paths, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of bees. Despite their differences in temperament, they found joy in each other's company, weaving memories that would last a lifetime.

You're all that

I've been yearning for

— —- —- —- —-

In the quiet of evening, as the Bridgerton family gathered for supper, Isadora remained close to Violet's side. Gregory and Hyacinth, full of youthful exuberance, regaled their siblings with tales of mischief and adventure, and how Isadora won tag earlier in the afternoon. The three eldest Brigderton men shared the lovely pianoforte they witnessed Isadora performing in the morning and spoke of how she is progressing very, while Eloise, Francesca, and Daphne shared knowing glances over the table.

I love you, I adore you

"Isa, do you have to be better than us at everything?" Eloise teased playfully, nudging Isadora with her elbow.

Isadora looked up, a hint of confusing in her eyes, she went to speak before Violet interjected “ "Eloise is just being foolish, darling, she means well”

Isadora quickly understood and replied "I only wish to be like everyone else Eloise, you are so clever, and Francesca is so graceful, and Daphne—"

"—is the epitome of charm," Francesca finished with a smile, her gaze softening as she looked at her youngest sister.

I lay my life before you

Daphne reached across the table to tousle Isadora's hair gently. "You are quite the storyteller yourself, Isa. Perhaps one day you'll write tales that surpass even Eloise's wild adventures."

Isadora's face lit up with delight at the praise from her sisters. "Do you really think so, Daphne?"

"Absolutely," Daphne assured her. "You have a way with words and a heart as big as all of Mayfair."

I only want you more and more

Violet watched the exchange with a tender smile, her heart swelling with pride at the bond between her daughters. Despite the challenges they had faced as a family, moments like these reminded her of the joy that filled their lives.

And finally it seems

My lonely days are through

Later that night, as Isadora drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the love of her siblings, Violet tucked her in with a sense of peace. The Bridgertons, each unique in their strengths and passions, formed a tapestry of love and support that would guide Isadora through the years ahead.

I've been waiting for you

"You are so loved, Isadora," Violet whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Never doubt that."

Isadora stirred, a contented smile playing on her lips. 

I've been waiting…

And as Violet watched over her sleeping daughter, she knew that the bonds of siblinghood, and the enduring love of family would carry Isadora through any storm that life might bring.

…For you

pt2

a/n pt2; thats it guys :( i actually had so much fun writing this and if you want anymore of violet and isa or any of the siblings with isa let me know because i'd love for this to become a little oneshot series typa thing! your feedback is greatly appreciated <3

all my love!

~tulippa

[almondmilkcleanser]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝

ask and you shall receive

✥ ` ■ characters / fandom ; f!reader x sesshomaru

✥ ` ■ tw ; n/a

✥ ` ■ word count ; 1k+

✥ ` ■* a/n — sooooo I loved this request so much that I want to make it a mini series because i’ve been watching shoujo romance anime and i’m feeling mushy. enjoy!

masterlist

Spring had begun. You laid alongside the riverbed, watching stray petals of fallen Wisteria cascade down the river. According to the human world, you were 18, and it was time for you to fulfil the familial contract. 

It was agreed upon between your demonic brethren before you were even born that Lord Sesshomaru would be your mate and you were to report to him the Spring of your womanhood. This spring, actually. 

You thought to hell with the contract and to hell with Sesshomaru! He could find his own mate for all you care. You never met him, not once, and to think that you were to just walk up to his castle, declare yourself to be his mate, for him to do as he pleased with you was baffling to you. 

So much, that you decided to hide. It’s been a week now since you left home and your family still has no idea where you are. And thanks to your cunning skills as a fellow demon, it would take a while for them to find you. You ventured across the land to the Wisteria fields, as you did every year, and hid among the garden of purples, pinks, violets, and blues. 

You climbed a nearby tree, your childlike innocence taking hold of you. You wanted to marvel at the flowers up close and personally, off the ground and away from wandering eyes in hopes of a certain someone not catching your scent as the overpowering sweet musk wafted through the breeze and permeated through the fields, masking your scent as the flowers waded in the breeze. 

You wanted to be free as the flowers, not wandering or worrying about anyone else, especially another demon. 

“Feh!” You scoffed, your fist clenching in pride. You were a demon for heaven’s sake! Why couldn’t you choose who you wanted??

 “Screw the traditions!” You exclaimed, spitting at the dirt in your mind. “That demon can choke. He’s probably an ugly old demon anyway.”

“Old you say?”

The anonymous deep voice almost caught you off guard. Looking its direction, you spotted another demon sitting atop what to you looked like the thinnest branch gracefully. A large fur pelt over his shoulder and heavily clad armor decorated across his body. He smelled. . .  Regal? And the markings on his face? Just who the hell was he?

You looked away, feeling his golden eyes glare a hole through your silk skin. If it were one of the romance novels you hid away in your room, this would be the perfect scene that a master artist would plummet tot he Underworld and back just to finish. But you? Now? You could care less. 

“And what is it to you?” He could feel your sarcasm. “if I were you, I’d tread carefully in regards to who you’re talking to.” This amused him. he said nothing but smirk your direction. When you noticed his silence creep up along your neck, you turned your head to meet his gaze again, only to be caught off guard by his immediate proximity to you. 

His eyes, that glare, the markings on his face, the moon on his forehead. He- he didn’t even look of this world! Taken aback, you reached back a little too far to gather your balance, missing the branch altogether and slipping off from its support. It happened in a blink, leaving you to fall midair for seconds until-

“What was it that you were saying? That I should tread carefully when talking to you?” The demon caught you, hosting you bridal style as he cascaded to the ground. With a soft plant of his feet, you both landed softly back to earth, your eyes still carrying apparent shock. 

When you looked around once more, you nearly jumped out of his arms. Crossing them over your chest, you huffed, pointing your nose in the air as you caught wind to his comment. Just who was this man?

“My original statement still stands. And as much as I am grateful for you saving my life. You really didn’t have to.” His eyebrow raised. 

“I am a demon after all. Such a fall would be nothing for me to catch myself from.”

“So, why didn’t you?” your eyes peered his direction for a moment before quickly darting the other direction. Why didn’t you was the question. 

“Enough of that!” you stammered, puffing out your chest while staring his way. “I have to get home. My family is worried about me.” before you could fully pivot on his heel the stranger spoke. 

“Which kingdom do you belong to?” you knew at that moment that you were wandering the forests for too long. The markings on your skin were too eloquent to be ignored by common demons. Only those of higher status’ knew that those that belonged to imperial family bore markings on their neck, shoulders, forearms, and sometimes, even the face. 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he watched you shield your arms with open disbelief. With a sigh, he snaked his eyes from your feet to your eyes, almost studying you. 

“I’m to be wed to a princess of a kingdom. A family of Imperial florists, you can say. And they actually send me to find her since she fled the castle.” He took a step forward, making you take a step back. 

“I’d hope to assume that you aren’t the one who’s already causing me grief.” You pulled in your lip, careful not to give anything away. With your eyebrows furrowed, you planted a hand on your hip. 

“I’ll have you know that I don’t belong to any family.” you lied. 

“I am a rogue demon, claiming the forests as my home. And it would be wise of you to leave this once.” He smirked at your response, disappearing into mid air in rebuttal. 

“Wha-?” you backed up, only to meet his cold armor pressed into your back. He didn’t say a word, but instead snaked his hand around to the front of your neck. He held your necklace in his large, open palm, revealing the golden imperial crest of a plum blossom. Your family’s insignia.

“Lady Y/N of the East. The Imperial Peony of the East, might I add.”

He smirked to himself, toying with the crest between his clawed fingers. 

“My wife, to be more exact.”

end

NEXT CHAPTER

leave a reply if you want another chapter!

[invisible-lint]

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 1

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: Tamlin has sent Feyre away. Emotions follow

Warnings: more angst. Allusions to Under the Mountain happenings, but not in much detail

Word Count: 1.2k

Prologue Chapter 2

You rush into the manor, hoping that you can get far enough away before the emotion churning in your chest consumes you. You couldn’t be the supportive sister you supposed Tamlin wanted you to be right now, weren’t sure you thought it was what he deserved. After all, it was his fault that the human he loved was leaving. It was his fault that you were all doomed to be taken Under the Mountain. It was his fault that Andras’ death was now for nothing. So no, you decide, he does not deserve your pity.

You manage to stumble your way into your bedroom, tears stinging in your eyes, burning your throat. You yank a pillow off the bed, burying your face into it before you scream, letting the emotion overwhelm you. You are angry, so angry that you ignore the knocking on your door. How could Tamlin do this? Sacrifice everyone and everything for his human love. Does he know how much it stings? His betrayal? That his love was enough was enough to save her. But you, your love? That was not enough to save Andras. You fling yourself onto the bed. This is where you will stay until they come to drag you all down Under the Mountain, you don’t care anymore. There’s nothing left for you to care about.

You wander the hall, ignoring the chill that hasn’t left your bones the entire time down here, no matter what you did. You didn’t sleep, finding it nearly impossible to. It had only been a few nights spent under the mountain, but already what you had seen haunted you every time you closed your eyes. You think of what Andras had said that day in the forest, about wanting to save you. If only he could see how ruined you were now. Would he be as angry with your brother as you are? You suppose, the one relief is that he is not here with you. You would not wish him here in this place even now as loneliness echoes in your soul. You aren’t thinking about where your body is taking you, only stopping as you nearly collide with the male in front of you. Your sudden stop has you nearly tipping off balance, and he reaches a hand out, steadying you. You look up at him, your own eyes meeting his violet ones.

“You shouldn’t roam by yourself at night. It’s not safe.”

“Yes, well you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Rhysand?” you question, voice as icy as you feel.

He ignores the jab, directing you towards your room. “Allow me to escort you.”

You say nothing, following as he guides you. You say nothing as he directs you to the armchair and waves a hand, a fire springing to life in the hearth. You remain silent until he’s about to leave the room.

“Why did you leave me there?” He turns to you, eyes filled with confusion.

“The night you came to Spring and killed my father and brothers. I followed you out to the garden and begged you to either take me with you or kill me too. But you just left me there. Why?”

Your eyes meet his, filled with so much grief and pain, and he finds himself wondering what you went through before you found yourself down here. You stand, crossing to him, angry at the tears that sting your eyes. 

“It would have been wrong.”

You choke out a bitter laugh. “And look at me now. I would have been better off.”

He’s not sure why he does it, but he brushes past your wards with ease, helping your troubled mind find unconsciousness, catching you as you crumple. He tucks you into bed, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear, bringing kinder memories to the front of your mind, helping you find pleasant dreams for once.

He tries to find you again the next few nights, uncertain of why he feels so suddenly drawn to you. But he remains unlucky, as if you're avoiding him as hard as he's trying to find you.

It’s shortly after that Feyre finds her way Under the Mountain to rescue Tamlin. You aren’t sure how you feel, but there's one thing you know for certain. You will do anything within your power to help her. To make Andras’ death mean something. You find her the night after, a spare blanket and food hidden underneath your cloak. You see him again as you make your way to the cells, eyes meeting his across the distance before hurrying away. 

You enter the cell and take in the sight of the human woman in front of you, holding a finger to your lips as you cross over to her, kneeling at her side, healing her. You give her the food and the blanket. She tries apologizing for Andras once more, but you shush her, shaking your head. 

“You are not the one I am angry with. You are not the one who needs to apologize. I can understand why you… did what you did.” She looks almost surprised. “I will help you however I can without interfering. I will help you beat her, for Andras.” She smiles and you find yourself smiling too, the movement feeling odd after so much time. 

You rush to the cells, hoping you are not too late. You enter as Rhysand exits and Feyre looks at you.

“I tried to wait for you to come. You said you would come. But a human can die so quickly from that kind of thing and I-” 

You interrupt her, dropping to your knees beside her, pulling her into a tight hug, choking back a sob. “I was just worried that I was too late and you were already dead. I don’t care what bargain you made with him. It saved your life, and when we get out of here, I will face it with you. You are too important Feyre.” She tells you of the bargain, and you smile. “You know, I have always wanted to see the Night Court.”

More time has passed and Feyre has beaten the trials. You watch in horror, unable to intervene, frozen to the spot, as Amarantha hurts Feyre, wishing you could fight for her. You glare at your brother, cursing him for not fighting for her. Why can’t he fight for her the way you already had? Why had he given up so easily? You gasp as Feyre answers the riddle and the mask falls from your face. You step forward as Amarantha snaps Feyre’s neck, wanting to do something, anything. You watch as finally, Tamlin does something, killing her, ripping her throat out. You sink to your knees, unable to help the relief that floods your veins along with the grief. Amarantha was dead and that meant that your husband’s death would finally mean something. That you had not lost everything for nothing.

  You watch on as the High Lords all revive Feyre, bringing her back as a fae. You ignore the purple-eyed male staring at you and whatever it is you feel pulling you to him. There would be time to worry about that later, but for now, you find yourself at Feyre's other side, realizing that although you had lost so much, there were things you had gained too.

A/N: And there it is! Not feeling great about this one, but everytime I tried fixing it I found myself writing the next parts, so here it is! Requests are open, so feel free to send some in! I'd love to write some one shots too!

divider is by @tsunami-of-tears

taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose

[ellssbellss]

Hey! I love your writing so much, especially lavender roses! I was wondering if you could write a Host Club x reader who has a lot of random hobbies (woodworking, painting, fencing, singing, writing, etc)?

I just know that if I had Ouran money, I’d have so many more hobbies. Thank you!

my life is a little hectic right now, as all you lovely people know. but I had this written, or most of it anyway, and I wanted to post it :) thank you for your patience with me while I deal with this difficult time, and for your amazing request!

The Hosts and their S.O. with too many hobbies! {Ohshc x Gender Neutral!Hobbiest!Reader}

missing Honey and Haruhi - will add them when I can!

.oOo.

Tamaki’s reader:

Ballet

Gardening

Painting

Tamaki’s eyes sparkled as you leaped across the stage, never daring to look away from your sculpted body framed in the dramatic stage lights. Tears had been glistening in his violet eyes since your first pirouette, and now he was wiping his cheek every chance he could get. Quickly, so he didn’t miss a single moment. 

The prince was left breathless as you danced. The art of ballet flowed so naturally through your form, you looked like you belonged on that stage. Through the kaleidoscope of his tears, Tamaki sighed as you spun and jumped and just moved so fluidly, the emotion on your face making him feel with you.

Your technique dazzled every single member of the audience, and when you bowed, the blonde man was the first to shoot up from his seat. He shoved his palms together unceremoniously, whooping and cheering as everyone politely clapped around him, but he didn’t care. When you tipped your head up and found his wet eyes in the crowd with a playful smile on your lips, he knew he had never seen anything more beautiful. 

Scratch that. 

“Tamaki!” Your hand shot up from the sea of people filing into the theater lobby, and he zoned in on it. On a mission, a blonde head and a (h/c) head come closer together, pushing through the black suits and long dresses in order to greet the other. Finally, the waters part, and Tamaki takes in your glory with a grin. 

“Mon amour…” He breathes, and it’s all you can do not to skip to him as you hold your pointe shoes in your hand. The bouquet of flowers he brought are set down in favor of catching your form and spinning you in the air. His hands come flat against your back as he buries his face in your neck, whispering your praises into your hair. 

“You did so well, my love.” He feels your hands wrap tighter around his neck. “You’re so incredibly talented.” 

Setting you down gently, he cradles your face. Your beaming at him, pride and adrenaline coursing through your pupils as you try to catch your breath, and he revises his initial thought. 

This is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Your gorgeous features enveloped in pure joy. 

Chuckling, his voice is like butter as he runs one of his fingers over your cheekbone. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Your chest heaves, but your smile is bright. “Especially after seeing you in the audience.”

“Please,” He says, tugging you closer. “I never would’ve missed the opportunity to see you shine.”

Tamaki kisses you then, and you melt. His fingers are gentle against your jaw, peeking into your hairline for a moment as your lips meet sweetly. You hum when he pulls away, wacking him when he smirks at the blush on your face. 

“Everytime.” He says, teasing you with a kiss to your cheek. 

“Shut up.” You groan. “You can’t kiss me like that and not expect it to affect me.”

“Like what?” A blonde eyebrow quirks up. “Like this?”

He leans in again before someone clears their throat. A man with a collar too high on his neck gives you two a disapproving glare as he walks by, clearly upset by the dramatic display of affection. 

You just giggle as the man moves on somewhere else. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss like that in front of all these people.”

Tamaki rolls his eyes but steps away from you ever-so-slightly. “When you look at me like that, I can’t help myself.”

“Contain yourself.” You tease. 

“That will never be possible, mon amour, when my heart can’t even contain its beat with you in this leotard.” Shrugging off his suit jacket, he drapes it around your shoulders. “Maybe cover up a little though, huh? Just for my sanity?”

Laughing, you pull your arms through the too big sleeves, basking in the cologne smell and the sense of security it brings you. “Okay. You can just take it off later.”

Tamaki’s eyes widen as a blush forms on his cheeks, but he grins. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Look who’s talking.” Putting your arm through his, you lean against his side and giggle, his stature supporting you like it always does. But as you turn him towards the front door of the theater, he gasps. 

“Wait!” Your boyfriend quickly spins and grabs the flowers that were almost forgotten on the carpet, luckily not trampled by the crowd of opera goers. 

“These…” Separating your arms softly, he stands in front of you, bowing as he holds out the gift. “...are for you, darling.”

He hears you gasp, and when he straightens, your eyes are wide and sparkling at the flowers in front of you. (E/c) pools scan every petal, every leaf and stem, and your hand gently cradles the buds. 

“Tama…” Your voice is soft enough to not disturb the flora in front of you. “These are from my garden.” 

He nods. “I wanted to make the bouquet special enough for you.”

“You wrapped them up so beautifully…” You breathe, and you scan them top to bottom. Your eyes pause at the bottom of the stems. “You didn’t give them a diagonal cut?” 

A hand comes to cover his mouth. “Oh, no! I forgot to give them a diagonal cut!” Tamaki swallows before running a hand through his hair. “Before I fix it, of course, just remind me what that is.”

Your hair doesn’t jostle from the hairspray that holds your ballet hair together when you shake your head. “Silly prince. It’s when you cut the bottom of the stem diagonally when you pick them, so that they can absorb more water.”

“Oh…” And with that, a determined gleam twinkled in his eye. “That’s an easy fix! Let me find some scissors.” Quickly, he looks around the bustling lobby, waving his hand. “Who has scissors?!”

“No! No, Tamaki.” Laughing, you bring his hand back down to your side, cradling the large bouquet in your other arm. “It’s fine. Just remember for next time.” 

He sees your throat bob, as if you’re holding something else back. “Is there something else, amour?”

You take a breath, fully prepared to deny anything, but you sigh, slumping your shoulders as another critique spills out of you. “And also, for next time, just get me chocolate? I work really hard on making sure these flowers stay alive, and they look much prettier on the bush they were grown on then arranged only to die in a few days.”

Your heart lunges when you see a darkened expression take over his face. “Oh my god, I killed your flowers.”

“That’s okay! It’s fine, roses are easy to grow this time of year, I promise.” You hurry to correct him, putting your palm on his jaw. “I was trying to make it special, I swear.” He whines. His hand comes to rest over yours on his cheek, his fingers grasping your own. “I just didn’t think about it that way.” 

You simper at him. “It was special. Knowing how much care you put into arranging them like this is so special to me. Thank you, Tamaki.”

It’s your turn to kiss him on the cheek, and he practically melts. As you’re about to walk out of the busy theater, you feel Tamaki’s arms wrap around your form. He lifts you, cradling you like the royalty you are. 

Before you can protest, he shoves your face into the crook of his neck, blonde wisps tickling your cheeks. “Your poor legs, they must be so sore after all that dancing.”

“I can walk just fine.”

“I know.” He squeezes you closer to his chest, and your arms betray your words as they wrap around his neck. 

Tamaki takes you back to your home, your parents having missed the recital in favor of a business trip somewhere. There was a long shower, a hot meal, and plenty of cuddling and soft touches before the evening sky touched down into night, and the moonlight poured into the large windows of your place. 

Now, he leans on the couch, his feet propped up as he stretches his long form across the length of the white cushions. The serene night fluttered as he opened his eyes from a lazy nap he took, inhaling the scent that was so perfectly you. It calmed him. 

To his side, a clanking sound rang into the quiet space. He slowly turned his head to see you gently setting a cup of tea onto one of the side tables. He meets your sheepish gaze when you realize you woke him up, biting your lip. 

“I know you’re better at making tea, but I tried.” You offer, spinning the saucer with two fingers so that the handle was facing him. A sweet smile pulls his beautiful face as he sits up.

“Thank you, mon amour.” Reaching for the tea cup, he sees that you are about to walk away from him towards the arching window in your bedroom, the one that looks out over your garden. There is a paint easel set up facing the view, a nearly-exact replica of it being portrayed on your canvas. 

Tsking, he lightly grips your wrist, putting pressure to spin you back around. With a yelp, you fall seamlessly across his lap, his arm bracing your back. 

“I didn’t get to thank you properly.” His voice rumbles, and his lips are pressed to yours again, leaving you to soften into a lovesick puddle. Your mouths move once, twice, and you can’t resist holding him there for a third time before you separate. His violet eyes transfix on your features, a gentle smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask, laughing as he zones out once again. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he sinks into his, what you like to call, mental theater. “Tamaki, you’re staring.”

Blinking, that sparkle in his eyes fades, but not very much. A finger comes out and wipes off a smear of paint from your cheek. “No, I’m falling, amour. All over again.”

Humming, you pick his chin back up into your grasp. “Then I’ll be here to catch you, darling.” 

A cherry blush coats his cheeks when you initiate the kiss this time, and he makes a sound of pleasure against your lips. When you pull away, he is stuttering and hiding behind the tea cup. Chuckling, you watch his hand shake slightly as he tries to regain his cool. “You okay there?”

“What? Of course, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He rambles, taking a very purposeful sip of the tea you brought him. Then his cheeks bulge, struggling to hold the liquid in his mouth. 

“Oh god, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” You say, covering your mouth. 

Tamaki shakes his head, but he is breaking out into a nervous sweat. 

“Tamaki, spit it out if you don’t like it.” Urging him, you push the cup back to his closed lips. He refuses, his face turning a slight shade of green. 

“Tama!” You laugh a little, pleading with him. His grip on the tea cup tightens, and you see the struggle in his swallow as he forces it down his throat. 

“G-great as always, angel.” He lies, still wincing at the aftertaste. “Oh mon dieu…” He curses underneath his breath. 

Rolling your eyes, you place the cup back on the saucer. “You don’t have to lie.” You insist with a teasing smirk. 

A weak grin escapes his full lips. “You are such a talented person, (Y/n).” He starts, nuzzling into your shoulder. “You’re perfect.” And even as his stomach turns, he is grateful to have a significant other with many talents, even if making tea isn’t one of them. 

.oOo.

Kyoya’s reader:

Debate club

Woodworking

Reading

Long legs race down the hall, dressed in perfectly iron slacks and shined dress shoes. His black book is clasped in his hand as Kyoya turns another corner, the door to his destination finally coming in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, the megane fixes his glasses, gray eyes trained on the entrance down the hall. 

Students are bustling outside of the auditorium, waiting in line as the start time for the debate draws nearer. Kyoya, at his height, pushes past his fellow peers, easily being able to see over the ocean of yellow dresses and lavender jackets. 

Before he can reach the heavy double doors into the theater space, he’s stopped by a hand at his arm. 

“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t enter the auditorium yet. Not until I’ve been given the green light.” The voice of a security guard sounds over the noise of side conversations, and Kyoya’s dark lashes flick up to meet her stern ones. Clearing his throat, he gently detaches his arm from her grip. He matches her polite smile, a fake one stretching his own lips. 

“I understand, Miss. But I’m actually late. I was supposed to meet someone backstage, but I unfortunately got mine and their schedules muddled.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, but these doors are closed to the public until the start time.” 

Squinting slightly, his host smile grows a little longer on his pale skin. “It’s Miss Kato Hisa, isn’t it?”

The security guard’s eyes widened, knowing that her name tag had been lost in her car for weeks now. “Yes, sir. Have we met?”

“Not formally, no.” Tucking his black book under his arm, he reaches his palm out, grasping her hand in greeting. “I am Ootori Kyoya. Third son to the Ootori family.” 

Her hand tightened in his before he let it drop, and she gasped excitedly. “Oh, my gosh, I didn’t realize! Your police force is the top force in the nation.” She smiles sheepishly. “I actually submitted my application a few weeks ago–”

“I’m well aware.” His deep voice cuts her off. “My family only accepts the best, you know. But, I’m sure my father and the chief of the force could be urged in a different direction, with the proper motivations.” 

Hisa’s grin widens. “Wow, Ootori-san, that would be amazing! I would be so grateful–”

“If I could be let in now, then you may have your chance.”

Her grin falls. “But, I can’t do that, sir. I am under strict orders not to let anyone in until the appropriate time.”

“Then I’m afraid your application would fall to the bottom of the pile unseen.” Kyoya’s facade is too sweet for his words. “Forgotten.”

The security guard’s face falls into a thin line, searching the Ootori son’s eyes for the joke, or a speck of unseriousness. Of course, she will find none. She can’t read him the way you can.

“You’re cruel.” Swallowing, her fingers grip around the door handle. Pulling it open a crack wide enough for his lithe frame to slip through, she mumbles as he passes. “Enjoy the debate.” 

“Thank you, I will.” His tone is low as he moves down the aisles to the sides of the stage. What a weak integrity, he muses, flying down the carpeted stairs. She couldn’t last a day on our police force. 

Soon, he hears bustling from behind the debate stage, and he swishes the curtains to the side, slipping into a crowd of debate teams. A stormy gaze sweeps over the crowd, looking for a conglomerate of dark blue suits, the official uniform of the Ouran Debate Team. Once he finds them, he makes a beeline for an (h/c) individual bouncing their leg, a historical fiction novel in their hands. 

He simpers at the genre. You only read historical fiction when you’re nervous. 

You don’t hear the click of his dress shoes before he is stopped right in front of you, too engrossed in the story to pick out your boyfriend’s movements.

“(Y/n).” That voice shocks you from your trance, and you sweep your gaze up from your seat to find Kyoya smirking down at you, a little flushed. Gasping, you stand immediately, a wide smile taking over your lips. 

“Kyo.” You greet him happily, placing your book onto a lone table next to you. “I’m so glad you made it.” Reaching out, you fix a strand of his hair that had been sticking up from his wind-swept look. Then you notice his rapid breaths and his pink cheekbones. 

Chuckling a bit, your smile grows. “Are you okay? Did you run here?”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes at you. “Of course not. Just a brisk walk.” He steps closer, the palm not grasping his journal resting onto your hip. “I apologize for being late. I got the dates confused.”

“The dates?”

Nodding, he flips open the famous black book as he pulls you a little closer into his side so that you could see. You lean into his shoulder as he shows you the section that acts as his planner.

“I thought your debate was tomorrow, when, in reality, your woodworking exposition is tomorrow evening. Since your exposition starts an hour later, I incorrectly believed I had more time to work on my club’s budget.”

“You do tend to get lost in the numbers.” 

His eyes slip past you to the book next to you. “We all have our methods of escape.” 

“I can’t argue with that.” You agree, (e/c) meeting thunderstorms. 

“Now, that’s not true.”  He teasingly gestures to your debate team. “Isn’t that the point of all this?” 

Groaning, you lay your head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

“(Y/n), my dear.” Pulling apart from you slightly, he takes your hands in his. They are smaller, and he likes that he can encapsulate them in his grasp, keeping them safe. “You’re nervous.”

“You know, it’s not like you to state the obvious.” 

“It’s not like you to be so anxious.” He retorts. “You are usually very confident in your debate abilities.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk blooming onto your lips. “But being nervous is a natural reaction. Especially when talking about competition.” 

“But don’t you agree that confidence is a more helpful emotion?” He responds, eyeing the smart style you have slicked your hair into. “Empirical evidence supports that people achieve more when they are of competent mind, instead of pushing themselves down.” 

You take a step forward into his space, your shoulders back. “True. However, a study recently conducted in Switzerland concluded that when an individual person is nervous, or feels anxiety, they tend to work harder towards their goal, as their brain specifically prioritizes that achievement rather than any other.”

He hums thoughtfully, also taking a step forward. “Is that so? Wouldn’t more anxiety hinder that ability to do well? Some people succumb to the state of nervousness. Students procrastinate all the time in fear of not doing well, so they don’t end up actually starting.”

Your hands swing lower, till clasped together as you inch forward even more, his angled face only a few breaths from yours. His eye-line makes a triangle shape across your features, going from your left pupil, to your full lips, and then your right. 

“Maybe so, if you are specifically talking about education.” Your voice drops a little lower, falling into a bubble with him. “But in competition, especially group sports like debate, there is an added social pressure. Competitors are not only nervous about their own preparedness, but how that preparedness might affect their team, a team that relies on them. Those anxieties grouped together enhance an individual's motivation to do well.”

Kyoya’s heart drummed a little faster in his chest. Here you were, standing in front of him in a very flattering suit, the color striking against your skin tone. Your words were concise, your tone was steady, and your touch had already been drawing him closer into you. His throat had gone dry at your smart demeanor, your intellect shining in the reflection of his spectacles. 

He needed to pull himself together. 

But he indulged a little more, pulling one of his hands away from yours to grasp your chin in his fingers, tugging your temptations into his hold. “I yield.” He murmured. 

Before your lips could connect, however, another student from the opposing debate team jostled his shoulder. You steadied him as the student grumbled under his breath. “Get a room. Fucking horny high schoolers.” 

Kyoya glared daggers at the man, already calculating the next strike to his reputation before he heard your laughter. He felt you pry his fingers off of you, and he turned to see you smiling curiously at him, the sharp edges of his gaze already softening. 

“Kissing in public?” You tease, placing a small peck on the inside of his palm. “Being late has made you so scrambled.”

Scoffing, he turns your head to the side. Favoring a far more appropriate kiss on the cheek, he responds in your ear. “You’re right, what was I thinking? You have to win to earn it.”

A gasping breath rushes through your lungs. “So not only am I competing in the finals for my debate team, I’m also competing for my boyfriend’s affection.” You narrow your gaze. “You're cruel.” 

He smirks, and now it’s your turn to feel a skipped heartbeat. “So I’ve been told.” 

But you hum, leaning closer. “If I don’t deserve a kiss from my boyfriend, I guess you don’t deserve the present I made for you.”

A black eyebrow raises. “You have a gift for me? Isn’t it my place to get you a gift before your critical night?”

“Yes, and I’m fully expecting whatever incredibly thoughtful gift you’ve managed to hide from me up until this point. Because I know you got me something to commemorate this day.” Turning, you move to your backpack, shuffling through it. “But I made this in Wood Shop. Just to clear my head before tonight.” 

Pulling the wrapped object out of your bag, you hand it to him, beaming proudly at him. Gently, he takes it from you, immediately trying to guess what it was from the weight and size of the box. 

“I’ve been trying woodcarving more often than actual carpentry.” You explain as his pianist fingers unwrap the present. “I wanted you to have my first successful product.”

God, he was almost disgusted at how bright his heart was glowing, how much lighter it became at your words. Swallowing, he pulled a nearly black object out of the decorative box, his lips parting at the sight. 

A carved rose laid elegantly between his fingers. The detail was impeccable, the petals imitating something delicate even if it was created from something so solid. The flower was heavy in his grasp, but with its weight came an accurate beauty. He hadn’t really studied the skill it would take to create something like this, but he planned to do some extensive research when he was able. 

Still, he knew it took an intense study on angles, and an assured hand to make cuts in the right places. Kyoya also realized the time, the focus, and the determination that someone must have to make something as perfect as this. To see an image in the wood and reveal it to the world. 

The Ootori son gently began to put the rose back into the box. 

Your lip worried between your teeth. “It’s made out of Gaboon ebony, which is the darkest wood available in nature. I know you have a very specific color scheme for your spaces, so I thought that would fit perfectly as a desk decoration.”

Kyoya met your gaze, placing the lid on the giftbox.

Shrugging, you shifted, wondering why a man of many words had gone silent. “And I don’t know why, but I thought a rose would be a good image. It’s romantic, sure, but…I don’t know, they have a grace to them that matches yours. In my eyes, at least.” You say.

A finger pushes up his lens as he steps towards you, placing the box slowly onto the same spare table you had set your book. 

His cologne washes over you as he does, and you swallow. “Do you not like it? I could make you something else, maybe something a little sharper. A rose might’ve been too feminine–”

Your doubt is halted as Kyoya surges forward, both of his skilled hands framing your face as he pulls your mouth to his. Surprise sounds against where your lips meet before it dissolves into a wanting breath, tilting your head a little more to absorb as much of his spontaneity as you can. 

It’s a closed kiss, but you both fit together like a puzzle piece, and you feel every unspoken emotion between you as he holds you to him, your own arms slipping to his waist. 

When he breaks apart, you’re blushing deeply, eyes scattering to see if anyone saw the public display of affection, but the crowd was too busy with their own conversations of boosting morale and good luck.

You came back to the moment, taking a breath as you clasp your hands behind his back. “What was that for?” 

His own voice was breathless, but the dazed look in his eyes sharpened, and his kissed lips smirked back at you. “You earned it.” 

And even if your many talents and expositions busied his schedule, the smile that grew on your face and the way he had to gently shove you away before you stole another kiss made it worth it. 

.oOo.

Hikaru’s Reader:

Kickboxing

Nail Tech

Sewing

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.” 

“No, baby. You can’t do that.” 

“No, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna kill ‘em.” 

You sigh, holding a piece of gauze to your right cheek, and your other hand holds an ice pack to the back of your head. The swelling hadn’t gone down, so the skin was plump and red as you watched Hikaru pace the empty locker room. He ran his hands through his ginger locks, pivoting on his heel as he fumes. 

Your costume fluttered around you. Since you made your own regalia, you had gone with a gold look this time. A spandex material grabbed against your muscled, shining in the metallic color, with stylish cut outs where you felt really emphasized your figure. Your hair had subtle gold streaks through it, but you were most proud of the cape you had draped over your shoulders. 

It was embellished with a gold trim and heavy velvet fabric, something you wore before you entered the ring. It was luxurious, elegant, and it matched the same color in Hikaru’s eyes, already making you love it even more. 

Hikaru made sure to find a pair of boxing gloves that matched, and he even offered to do your makeup before your match. He swiped gold eyeshadow over your (e/c) pools, and yellow gems traced under your waterline. 

He had pretended to not be able to look at you, saying that you shine too brightly and he couldn’t stand your beauty any more. 

Now, with these scratches and minor swellings, he wouldn’t look at you. Not in your sparkling eyes, at least. Only at the scratches. 

“Hikaru. Kyoya would kill you if you murdered someone. You’d have to go to prison, leaving him down one Brotherly Love package.”

He puts his hands on his hips, pulling his lips between his teeth. “No, I don’t care. Kaoru will figure something out.”

He pauses when the referee of your most recent kickboxing match walks through the door. The ref clicks the door behind him, making eye contact with you as he makes his way towards you, the actual competitor. 

But someone else wanted to step into the ring. A blur of orange stepped into the ref’s path, ginger clashing with black and white. “You’re gonna do something about that, right?”

The ref sighed, putting his hands up in a surrender move. “Sir, there isn’t much we can do–”

“No, shut up. You’re gonna fucking do something, right?” Hikaru gestures wildly, his eyes wild as he gets into the referee’s space. His arms direct over to you, his golden eyes scanning over your injuries for the millionth time. “Look at the love of my life. Look at them. I mean, something has to be illegal here, right? Those hits, they weren’t–, I mean, they were unconscious and they kept going!”

“Hikaru, please.” You say, bringing the gauze to another cut right above your eyebrow, chuckling a little bit. “Let the man speak. Maybe to the actual competitor. ”

Huffing, Hikaru turns to you, eyes fierce. But that fire melts into a warm sunlight as he realizes the fact that your hands are full trying to stop the bleeding and the swelling on your own. Exasperated, it takes two strides for him to be by your side.

“What’re you doing? Trying to do this yourself…” He criticizes, but you know there isn’t any fire behind it. Taking the ice pack, he grumbles, glaring daggers at the referee that moves to sit across one of the benches in the locker room. Hikaru holds the ice pack to your face, his other hand rubbing up and down your back softly. 

The ref’s eyes look over the pair of you, sighing deeply. You rolled your eyes as the referee shuffled on the bench, looking guiltier by the second. 

“I know I should’ve stopped them.” He admitted. “I hadn’t realized you were down for the count.”

You shift the gauze against your cheek. “Just be glad it didn’t result in anything more than a few scratches. But you should’ve been paying attention.”

Hikaru opens his mouth, but you shake your head. The referee nodded his head before hanging it. 

“I know.” He spoke, clasping his hands in front of him. “You are usually such a good competitor, (Y/n), I thought you were going to get back up.”

Hikaru scoffed. “Are you pinning this on them?” He growled as he gripped the ice pack tighter. “That they should’ve been a better fighter so they didn’t get K.O.’d?”

“Hikaru–” You warn, but your boyfriend was nothing if he wasn’t stubborn, his fierceness burning under the surface. 

“Of course not!” The referee stuttered. “I was only trying to explain–”

“Yeah, well, all I hear are excuses.” Hikaru bites, the arm on your back becoming tighter around your shoulders. “Get your boss in here. I want to speak to them.”

The man across from you gulped. “Are we sure that’s necessary?”

The Hitachiian twin’s teeth must’ve been razor sharp the way he barred them at the ref. “One hundred percent. I have no idea how ref’s like you get hired anyway, but I want to see who was dumb enough to actually sign the paper.”

“Baby, that’s enough.” You were scowling, but on the inside you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the ref’s face morphed from horror to the acceptance of his fate. 

“Of course, sir.” Sighing, the referee offers one last apology before scratching the back of his head, the locker room door swinging behind his exeunt. 

Hikaru was still muttering to himself as he brushed your hair out of your face, the strands wet with the sweat on your forehead. “Fucking people, don’t know how to do their jobs…”

“Hikaru…” Your voice is gentle as you pull the ice pack and gauze away from your face, your attractive features finally looking a little more normal. Your hand frames his cheek, and the anger in his eyes completely goes away. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know that.” He frowns, the rasp in his voice carrying a sigh. But you could tell his eyes were still scanning your skin, making sure there weren't any other injuries that he missed. “And you’re tougher than you look.” 

“Exactly.” A proud smirk plays on your lips. 

“Plus,” That smirk that both annoys you and warms you rises to his mouth. “You’ve got a pretty thick skull. I think you could take a few more hits before it becomes a problem.”

Scoffing, you push him away. “I’m gonna hit you if you don’t shut up.” 

“I think I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh really?” You wrap your arm around him, bringing him closer. “You’re a freak.”

“You’re a tease.” His canines sparkle when he smiles, and it’s all you can do to make the kiss you two share as short as possible. Otherwise, the way he gently cradles your face, or how his lips move against yours would pull you in forever. 

A door swinging open interrupted your bliss anyway, and you two jumped apart. Hikaru groaned softly, a small blush coming onto his scowling cheeks. 

A woman in a fine pressed suit walked across the tile, her heels echoing within the locker room. You recognized her as the manager of the ring in which you’ve had most of your kickboxing matches, and you rose to meet her. 

“(Y/n).” 

Clutching her hand, you shake it gently, aware of your sore shoulder. “Nice to see you again.” 

Hikaru just folds his arms in the background, standing at your side. The manager gives a sidelong glance before giving you a business smile. 

“I wanted to personally apologize for the oversight our referee had during your match tonight.” She says, her lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights above. “You are one of our most beloved fighters, the audience loves you and your unique costumes and looks.”

In her handshake, the manager felt the smooth texture on your fingernails, and turned your hand over in hers. “Your vibrant, fearless creativity inspires many people in our kickboxing world, even if you are a little unorthodox.”

Your nails are painted with a metallic background, and when she presses your fingernails together, they create a picture of an intricate, swirling gold dragon across your nail beds. It was beautiful, it was detailed, and it had been incredibly time consuming. 

You kept your nails short, and the art was absolutely covered by your kickboxing gloves, but it made you feel powerful knowing that you creation was there, even if you were the one of two who knew it. 

The manager's dark eyes slid to your boyfriend who had crossed his arms, still glaring daggers at the lady. She just smiled, her gaze dropping to where his hands were visible in the crevice of his elbow. 

“And it seems you have a supportive partner, as well.” She comments, causing both of your eyebrows to crease before you realize what she is talking about. Hikaru flared out his own hands, and how you had done a small but still detailed nail piece on his own hands. His fingers matched yours in color and style, but instead of having the dragon across all five of his fingers, there was a baby one swirling on his thumbs and ring fingers. 

He huffs, a smirk coming to his lips as he looks at your art for the millionth time today. “Yeah, they’re pretty incredible.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” The manager nods, a sweet smile on her lips. “Both in the ring and out of it, you are definitely a prize. Which is why we’d like to give you one.”

“You want to give me a prize?” You ask, a little surprise leaking into your voice. “For losing?”

The manager hums. “More for winning over the crowd, or for keeping this little instance between us. No one was seriously injured, and–”

“How about I give you the same bruises that competitor gave my partner, and then we’ll see what you think counts as ‘seriously injured’.” Hikaru growls, cracking his knuckles. He steps forward, but you stop him with your arm. 

“Threatening them won’t do anything.” You sigh, but your mouth turns into a scowl. “But I’m not taking your ‘hush’ money.” 

“Well,” The manager scoffs, her calm facade cracking slightly. “We must do something. If you are to continue to fight here, then all of us have to–”

“They aren’t gonna fight here anymore, then.” Hikaru’s voice cuts through the manager’s pompous assumptions, and he grabs your hand, gently moving you around her straight posture. 

Her heels clack as she follows you in earnest. “Wait, you can’t speak for them.”

But as you follow behind your boyfriend, a man who is angry for your safety and your honor, you spin around, smirking through your scratches as you give them the middle finger. “You’re right, he can’t. But, even if it’s rare, he’s right. I’m out of here.”

Her slick ponytail is fraying. “But, you can’t! You have a contract!”

Hikaru mirrors your actions, and now you both are flipping her off as you back out of the locker room, your glorious cape draped across his arm. 

“I’ll pay whatever it takes to break ‘em out of it,” He says, his smirk growing. “And for you to leave them alone.”

Then, you both do a lazy salute as you finally step out of that locker room, out of that situation. 

Laughing, Hikaru stops his walking, causing you to stumble into him. He catches you, and you both break out into a fit, holding onto each other as you walk to his car. 

Easily, he presses you up against the passenger side, using a finger to push a piece of gold-painted hair back into place. His other hand comes to gently cup the other side of your face, his thumb lightly tracing a scratch on your cheekbone. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says, his scratchy voice vibrating into the setting sky. “Gotta get you bandaged up, baby.” 

.oOo.

Kaoru’s Reader:

Sketching

Baseball

Writing

“You know,” Kaoru said, pins between his teeth as he took them out of the bodice of your outfit one by one. “Everytime we do this, I still get distracted by you. Everytime.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes even as a blush comes to your cheeks. “You’re an even worse flirt than Tamaki.”

A groan sounds behind you as you feel hands pry the bodice off of your torso. “Don’t talk about the Boss when I am literally undressing you.”

Cool, conditioned air rushes across your newly bare skin as Kaoru throws the garment across the car seat, the leather sticking to your back as you lean into it. Arching your hips, you tug the bottom of your dress pants off, making sure the divider was up between you and your boyfriend’s family driver. 

“You sure he can’t see us?” You ask, wiggling out of your underwear. 

Kaoru sets the pins into his cushion, smiling. “Per usual, no.” Then the redhead turns, his smirk revealing a sharp canine. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”

“Kaoru!” 

He cackles, but he can’t help his eyes when they drag over your bare form. Yes, changing clothes in his car was a normal thing due to your busy schedule with your many hobbies, but he never got tired of having you naked in his backseat. 

He tsks. “Are you sure we don’t have time to–”

The pants you had been wearing flew into his face. “No!” You sounded a laugh as he pulled the garment off his head, and you chuckled at the way his red hair fluffed when he did. 

His pale hand reaches down and grabs the duffel bag, packing the black tie outfit you wore to your art show into it and pulling out your team uniform. You pulled on the right undergarments that would support you sliding across the dirt in a baseball diamond, and caught your jersey when Kaoru threw it at you from across the car seat. 

“Going from riches to rags.” He says, arranging your cleats next to you with the appropriate socks. 

“You literally made these uniforms, babe.” You say, deadpanning as you squeeze yourself into the form-fitting bottoms. 

“I know that.” He says, eyeing the way your toned body fills the sporty look nicely. “But I much prefer the elegant attire that I pinned you into earlier.” 

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” You add, distracted as you put the baseball cap on your head, your team logo facing out towards the front seat. “Everyone loved what I was wearing.”

His lips quirked to one side. “Well, duh.”

“Expectedly so.” You tighten your belt around your waist. “But this afternoon’s outfit was…well it was just really spectacular.” Your smile reflects against the city lights. 

Now dressed in the full baseball regalia, you lean over to your own personal fashionista, putting a finger under his chin. 

“I’m really lucky to have Japan’s second best fashion designer as my quick-change roadie.” 

Any sweetness in Kaoru's eyes vanishes, and a second after your lips are a breath away, he is pushing you to the other end of the backseat. “Oh yeah? Then someone else can get you dressed for your book reading tomorrow.” 

You gasp. “Oh no. Whatever will I do without the expert way you zip a zipper?” 

The Hitachiuan twin feigned offense. “That’s what I majored in.” 

“And what about your knowledge on what colors I look best in? I’ll be so washed out.” 

He crosses his arms, still looking at you with a smug simper. “You’ll just have to figure it out.” 

Shrugging, you cross your legs, your cleats knocking against each other. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to undress me in the backseat of their family’s car.” 

A hum sounds to the other side of you, like honey being poured into tea. “Now that’s something I know no one can do better than I can.” 

Two manicured hands are suddenly around your waist, and you are dragged across leather. The soft material of your pants are seated into Kaoru’s lap, while, like instinct, your arms wrap around his neck. 

“I think we can finally agree on something.” You concede, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. The city rushes by outside of the limo’s glass, but time stands still when your lips touch. A pleased sound resonates in the back of his throat when you nip at his bottom lip, and you feel him smile into the kiss.  

Pulling away, you share another longing moment before you groan, your head resting into the crook of his neck. 

“Are you sure the art show went well?” You ask, hiding your insecurity as you bury your nose into Kaoru’s cologne. 

Chuckling, you feel his hands casually lock around your hip. His cheek comes to rest on the top of your head, the two of you squished to one side of the seat. “I’m sure. You’re talented, you know that.”

“I do, but I’ve just been so distracted with everything that I have going on.” You can hear his pulse inside his throat, encouraging you to open up a little more. “I balance so much that it feels hard to put 100 percent of my effort into everything I do. I feel like I’m half-assing it.”

“(Y/n), babe.” He brings your face away so that you can look at him clearly. The driver makes a right turn, the force pushing the two of you closer together. “Sketching, sports, writing. All of these things are your life. You’re allowed to put your energy into multiple outlets at once, as long as it’s not draining you.” 

“I don’t think it is.” And he knew that. He knew that even if you seemed tired after a hard day in the studio, or maybe a tough day at practice, the smile on your face was genuine. You always put everything you had into everything you did, and that was just one of the things he adored about you. 

“My partner is an all star, author, and an artist.” Kaoru says, a proud glint in his golden eyes. “And you know what? Because of that, I’m never bored.” 

“Thank god for that. It ceases your regularly-scheduled destruction.” You say, a finger twirling into his ginger strands. “Although Hikaru probably misses his partner in crime.” 

Kaoru just shrugs. “Hikaru has always been able to create his own chaos, he’ll be fine.” 

“So, if you have this much confidence in me, then you must think my first book reading tomorrow is going to go well too, right?” 

“I couldn’t be more sure. I was able to read the whole thing, and I don’t think I’ve been able to finish a fiction book in my life.” The twin admits, and you smirk. 

“Well, that’s obvious.” 

His golden irises roll. “Very funny.” 

“Then, what about this game?” You ask, looking out the window to see the baseball stadium peek out from the horizon. You still had a ways to go. “Think I’m gonna win?”

There was silence. You got lost in the city’s sparkling skyline a little longer before your gaze snapped down to your boyfriend’s, just to see him avoiding your gaze. 

“Kaoru?” 

“Huh? What?” He says, and he runs a hand over your jawline. “Wow, babe, you’re so beautiful.” 

Scoffing, you lean away from him. “You don’t think we’re gonna win?” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“Kaoru, you only have so many thoughts that can fit into the pea-sized brain of yours.” You say, laughing. “You should not be wasting that space doubting me.”

“I will never doubt you.” He says, grabbing your hand that began to poke at his forehead to see if you could hear an echo. 

“I will, however,” the Hitachiian brother raises your hand to his lips, “realize that while you are immensely talented, baseball is a team effort.”

You give him a blank look. “And my team sucks.” 

He kisses your hand. “They suck so bad.” 

And you're laughing. A few seconds ago, you were drowning into your anxiety, but Kaoru made you feel light enough to float above them all. Balancing multiple things at once was hard work, but having a man like him at your side made it easier. 

Your laughter dies down, and there’s an extra spark in Kaoru’s eye that paired well with the city lights reflected in his pupils. 

You hit his chest, even as he snakes kisses up your shoulder and onto your neck. “Kaoru, we can’t.” 

“The stadium is still a ways away. We have time.” 

Your skin tingles under his touch, and you sigh. “Kaoru…” You weakly try to push him away, but he holds onto your hips. 

“(Y/n)…” 

Huffing out a breath, you take off your baseball cap so you can properly kiss him without it bumping into Kaoru’s forehead. “Fine, but we have to be quick.” 

His laughter rings out as he pulls you into his chest, and you are already second-guessing his intentions on making it quick as he draws his tongue slowly up your throat. 

It’s a good thing the divider was up. 

.oOo.

Mori’s Reader

Fencing

Yoga

Poetry

Swords clashed, the metal twinge sounding against the Hinoki cypress that covered the dojo’s walls. And each time you and your opponents’ swords would cross, your heart would pound in sync, both beats echoing with your efforts. 

Thirteen touches. Your opponent had scored thirteen touches against you within this bout, and you were determined to not let him get the last two he needed to win. Lunging, your sabre jabs across the piste with a grunt from your lips, only to have it wacked away immediately by your competitor. 

You clench your jaw as you ward off one of his own jabs, trying to see through the mesh of your fencing mask. The long torso of the man across from you twists, leaning to the right. But once you move to block it, he swerves, turning to the left and touching you in the ribs. 

Huffing, you rip off your mask, your hair fluffing out once freed of the hard shell. “You’re kidding me.” 

Mori easily slides off his own helmet, letting the smug grin on his face widen at the sight of your exasperation. His black hair fell slightly in front of his face before he pushed it out of the way, a few drops of sweat beginning to bead on the edge of his jawline. 

Grumbling, you point your saber half-heartedly at him. “I’ve been fencing my whole life and you only started a couple months ago. How are you so good at this?”

He shrugged his shoulders in a way that was so irritatingly handsome, you had to force your head back into your mask. 

“Again.” You demand. 

With one hand, Mori effortlessly readjusts his own gear, and you both fall back into a fighting stance. 

Your boyfriend had always been good at things without ever trying too hard. It seems he had an eerily accurate way of breaking any sport, art form, or hobby down to its basics, and extorting it in front of his opponents. Easily, he analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of any obstacle he was put up against, and bent them to his advantage. 

He was smart, analytical, and having way too much fun watching you become frustrated as he brought you both to match point. You could tell by the way he stood, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep himself agile, his martial arts training coming in handy. He held his sword out with one arm, and the other bent at his back, but his shoulders were dropped low, a casual stance as he became more confident in his victory. 

Growling, you lunged first, starting your combat again. You were aggressive, and you took pleasure in seeing his shoulders rise as he took a defensive position against your attacks. Arms burning, you swiped and slashed at his white suit, all of your fencing training becoming honed into this very moment. You were sure a soundtrack could be made to emphasize the way you moved forward, forcing him to step back and block any chaotic jabs and swipes that you threw his way. 

You heard him gasp as his foot dropped off the piste, and his tall body tripped, falling backwards as you stood over him, the vertex of your sabre denting the clothing on his chest. 

His chest heaved with the effort, and you crouched, once again pulling off your headwear. “That’s more like it.”

You pulled off his mask as well, this time leaving the thick strands that fell into his brown eyes. His confident smirk had been replaced with a slight scowl. Stepping in between his legs, you met his eye level. 

“Fourteen to fourteen.” You bragged, letting your sword rest on your shoulder. “Now, we’re tied. Again.” 

A displeased grunt came from the stoic's mouth. 

“This little competition of ours has been fun.” You say, molding your voice to sound bored as you exhale, standing up and putting out a hand for him. “But it looks like I will emerge victorious.”

Your boyfriend’s visage fell blank, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and lifting himself up, towering over you as he folds his arms around your waist. 

Bending like a branch in the wind, Mori tightens his hold as he presses you into his chest. One of his hands came to cup your face, forcing your gaze to focus on the small beads of sweat dancing across his skin. “We’ll see.”

Then he kisses your cheek, turns you around, and pushes you back to your end of the piste. Refusing to wipe the smirk off your face, you reset, readying your sabre with new confidence. 

This time, you both take the offensive, aggressively sparring as your blades crash together in hurried movements. He blocks your jabs, and you leap over his attempts to sweep you off your feet, ignoring the legality of your movements. Sweat begins to gleam on your forehead under your mask, but your smile only grows. 

As he takes another step to jab at your shoulder, you lean to the side, effectively dodging his attack to see that he has left himself wide open. Victory fuels your heartbeat as you lunge, even going as far as letting out a confident hah! as you aim the point towards the side of his ribcage. 

Suddenly, Mori turned on his heel. With incredible speed, he swipes your sabre away as if he knew exactly where it was going to strike. He grunts as he pushes you back, both you and your sabre stumbling to the floor with his strength, and all you can do is sit there empty-handed as he juts the end of his sword right above your heart. 

Huffing, you fall, letting your back hit the piste with a disgruntled groan. You hear a dark chuckle as steps move towards your fallen body.

“That’s fifteen.” Mori confirms as he stands over you, his already-tall form looking enormous from your position on the ground. 

“Yes, I can count, thank you.” You grumble, ripping off your mask for the last time. 

He puts pressure on the point where his own sword pinpoints your skin, your heart fluttering for different reasons when he reveals his face. Flushed, disheveled, and confident in his win. 

The way his lips slightly lifted on either side, the way his dark chocolate eyes glimmered over your exhausted form. You wanted to kiss that smug look off his face. 

But you wanted to win more. 

Batting the sword away, he reaches out a hand to help you up, pulling you to your feet. The Ouran Highschool Gym bustles with students. Some engage in kendo matches that Mori observes silently, most likely learning from other’s mistakes. 

Picking your sabre up from the aftermath of your loss, you gently raise the end under his chin, quirking an eyebrow as he tenses and focuses his gaze back on you. 

“Your opponent is in front of you, Takashi. Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”

His gaze melted into something smooth and dark. “The game is over.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of his victory. 

“Far from it.” The end of your blade dips gently into his skin for a second before you flick it away, nudging his chin softly. Turning from him, you call over your shoulder. “On to the next event!” 

After changing out of your fencing attire, you’re sat across from him, a(n) (f/c) yoga mat splayed out below you as he sits atop a dark blue one. Given the charged looks he gave you before you entered a dressing room, you knew that it was game on. Both of your competitive spirits had been stoked, and you only had more motivation to kick that – admittedly very nice – ass of his. 

Taking a deep breath, you let the air in the gym still around you. Yoga was another one of your hobbies that you enjoyed because it gave you a chance to center yourself in the midst of chaos a certain club instilled within your life. You had picked it up when you started high school, and even your teacher said you were a natural, as you were able to really embody the purpose and true zen of yoga. 

Flicking your eyes towards your boyfriend, you find that he is already looking back at you, patiently waiting for your instructions on the next round of your spontaneous competition. His eyes are warm, the smallest of smiles on his lips as they track your figure, watching as you find peace in your posture. 

Shaking your head affectionately, you rock on your hips, nudging him gently with your arm. “Stop staring and listen up. I’m gonna choose a pose, and whoever holds it the longest wins.” 

Mori gives you a suspicious, playful glare. “But you’ll choose something that you’re good at. That I can’t hold.” 

You smile, sickeningly sweet, and Mori rolls his eyes. “Fine.” 

“Great!” Your grin only grows as you call out the position: Vrschikasana, or the Scorpion. Mori’s eyes flash in recognition, remembering the weeks you spent perfecting it while he trained in his dojo, and the knots he had to massage out of you afterwards. 

You narrow your eyes, planting your palms on your mat. “Unless you want to give up?”

His dark gaze hardened before something fierce ignited in his visage. “No. It’s fine.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the gym’s expensive walls – honestly, it really over the top for a physical center. Shifting your weight onto your hands, Mori follows your movements as you both lift into a handstand before arching your back, pointing your toes as they bend to touch the top of your head. 

God, you loved the burn through your hamstrings, the strength of your muscles holding yourself up, seemingly weightless off the ground. You sucked in a breath, allowing your lungs to open up, your throat to loosen, and let yourself just breathe. 

“You’re smiling.” A strangled voice drenched in disbelief observes next you, and you turn your head carefully so as to not knock your balance. 

The chuckle that runs through you nearly does, though. 

You catch yourself as you watch Mori’s arms start to shake, his breathing a little haphazard as he puts as much effort into the stretch as he can. You also watch as his muscles flex, his shirt discarded in order to cool off from your fencing tournament, eyes traveling as the lines flinch and twitch with the commitment to keep himself off the ground.  

Mori was a strong guy. Defined, agile, and built with pounds of lean muscle. But yoga took a different kind of strength. It was a test of endurance and balance, a mental strength that knew no limits. 

There was a reason you and Mori worked so well together. 

About ten seconds from your record time holding this position, Mori topples, his legs falling over his head as he somersaults, landing with his back flat against the mat. 

You chuckle, half concerned for his health from the fall, half gloating for your win. Easily coming back down to the ground, your breath heaves a little as you try to catch your breath. 

“You okay, Takashi?” You ask, it being your turn to stand over him, smirking in victory.

He just grunts, giving you a bored look. 

“Crybaby.” You say, sitting next to him. 

“Show off.” He retorts, warmth in his eyes. 

You laugh again, the rare insult leaving the exhausted stoic’s mouth. “Wanna do one more round?”

Mori’s eyes search yours for a second before nodding. “But I get to pick.”

“Sure, that seems fair.” You say, peeling back the hair on his forehead. “Go for it.”

He gets that thoughtful look in is gaze, a glint that taught you to wait patiently by his side in silence until he was comfortable to speak. 

“Poetry.”

A surprised scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Sorry, sorry. It just…that’s not a test of strength.” You say, laughing a little. As much as you loved poetry, reading and writing it, it seemed a little out of left field. 

Mori shrugged his shoulders, still laid out on the floor. “Emotional strength.” He said, smart eyes smiling up at you softly.

And how could you argue with that? 

Ten minutes later, sweatpants and pump covers are thrown back on your bodies as you both sit in a small corner of the gym, legs tangled as you lean against opposing walls. Notebooks in hand, your pens fly across the page, the scribbling sounds comforting as you each get lost in your own thoughts. 

When it comes time to present, you go first. When Mori realizes you wrote yours about him, about how strong he was, and how safe he made you feel, it makes his tired, sore body slump against his side of the wall. His hand reaches out for yours, listening intently to your words. 

His poem had a smaller word count, but the vocabulary was moving, and you laughed gently when you realized he wrote his about you. About how strong you were, and how safe you made him feel. And he held your hand the entire time he read it to you.

Let’s just say your game ended in a tie.

.oOo.

not proofread, but i enjoyed writing it!

hope you all have a great day. just give me some time to get back into the groove of things. writing is my escape, and i truly do love it. just need to find the energy :) love you <3

[seduzist]

katniss everdeen x fem!reader

pure fluff w/ suggestive content. this is post-war.

you stands in the kitchen, singing lowly some melody that couldn’t leave your head in the last days, your experienced hands cutting some carrots and seasonings that you’ve just brought from your garden.

you’ve heard the door opening and fight all of your instincts to not turn your body to point the knife in your hand to it, you were home, you were safe. you told yourself, it was true.

a cold air hits your back slightly, and you heard steps on the wood ground, smiling softly at the thought that she was back home.

the sound of steps became louder but softer, like she was approaching with calm, she puts her bow on the table, just along with the animal she just hunted for your dinner, with her free hands, one goes to your waist, putting her head above your shoulder and smelling your perfume.

“hi.” you said, just loud enough for her to hear it.

katniss hands were cold, but her breath on your cheeks feel warm, even though she just chewed a few mint leafs before coming home.

“hi, pretty.” she says.

you turned around facing her, noticing how cold she was, it was expected since she just spent almost the whole day in the woods, hunting, chewing leafs of mint, making traps for small animals and running after bigger ones, and just today, picking some flowers for you.

she brings the other hand from behind her back, putting in front of you revealing some variants species, sunflowers, lilys, tulips, daisys, hibiscus, violets, but not a single rose.

it was a improvised bouquet, but looked just as pretty as the ones that was sold in capitol, even prettier in your opinion, your eyes lightened up and you embraced her neck with one of your arms, taking the bouquet with the other hand.

“it’s so pretty…” you looked at katniss with adoration in your eyes.

katniss wasn’t this type, she wasn’t the one to brings flowers or call her loved one pet names, she wasn’t the figure of a romantic, a lover, or any of these things, she never learned to be that way, but she just ended up loving you, so she did these things to makes you happy, even if was against her nature, she could feel her heart warming up when you looked at her with gratitude in your eyes, makes it worth.

you kissed her cold lips, caressing her soft cheeks with your thumbs, showing just how much you loved her gift, you felt her beating heart calm up a little bit, the red blush in her face going away as her body completely relaxed close to yours, feeling your presence, your touch, your lips.

“thank you, katniss, i really loved it.” you peck her lips once again and goes to wash your hands, filling a bowl with water, placing the bouquet inside with care to not damage a single petal. katniss watched your moves from afar with a little smile on her face, sitting at the table.

when you were done you admired the bouquet for the last time, you placed it at the center of the table, staring at katniss, who couldn’t take her eyes out of your figure. “i found those in a little plain close of the cottage, i could take you there tomorrow if you want to.”

“like a date? a picnic?” you walk towards her, embracing her shoulders, by the height of the chair she was sitting, her head was right below your chest, so you looked down in her eyes.

katniss’s eyes lightened up and she nodded with her head, smiling as you leaned to kiss her lips again, after a minute or two, the kiss became hungry and her hands a little exploring, her body now felt hotter and all you wanted to do was bringing her upstairs and thanking her for trying so hard to be a good wife for you, and you would do it in no time if wasn’t for a knock on the door.

“katniss? y/n?” peeta shouted from outside the door. “it’s saturday! i brought cake.” his voice sounded innocent just as his eyes used to look.

katniss broke the kiss with a frustrated frown, but peeta was right, it was saturday and just like every other saturday, you, katniss, peeta and haymitch would have dinner together, katniss would hunt a lot of meat, you would cook it, peeta would make a cake for dessert and haymitch would keep himself sober and bring the news from capitol so you all could talk about it, it used to be nice.

“what y’all doing in there?” haymitch much rougher voice echoed and you let out a laugh.

“we continue later.” you said calmly, and katniss rolled her eyes playfully, standing to open the door.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-two — do your taxes (💋)

The funniest thing about apple orchards is that there's never just one type of apple orchard.

Why were they all unique? He would never care enough to find out. The main point is that he's got one now; and even with his extensive research on said orchards, he can't even find the proper way to take care of 100 per acre.

That's how he felt as his violet eyes examined the nature, almost with malicious eyes.

The orchard was in its bloom, a quilt of colors as green and gold under the sun had grown duller from the overcast day. It was ironic, really. He was convinced Sumeru never rained except for around the woods, and even then, there’s no thunderstorms. He thought picking a desert would make it so that people wouldn’t feel inclined to figure out where he lives, but at this rate, he was better off just selling the orchard part of the home to some guy who really likes fruit.

Scaramouche— or rather, Kunikuzushi...knew Furina did this on purpose. But jokes on her, really, he has much more discipline than she thinks.

It was taunting him, especially because he knew his lack of expertise and despite that, the trees still stood proud. The rows were endless, each one seemed to rustle softly under the unnatural clouds of the day.

Deciding to leave it, he opted to go back inside and waste away with the nagging feeling of that fucking orchard again. He stepped away as his steps crunched softly on the gravel path back to his front door. It was like the neglect was oddly making them stronger of a threat to him.

It was kind of offensive. How they just live on without him. But it was also what he'd hope would happen with everything anyway. Maybe he didn't know everything about orchards, and maybe he never would. But all he did know was that he wouldn't see himself enjoying the sickly smell of the fruit rotting soon. Was this going to be on his taxes? Doesn't matter, he's evading them this year, just like he does everything else.

'Horrible idea', he thought. Do your taxes.

Once he went back inside, the dim lights and the cool air of his home welcomed him again. But it wasn't a miserable type of welcome, for once. The air was what he wanted it to be, different from the overwhelming perfume of apples outside.

The longer he mulled on it, the worst his thoughts nagged at him. So instead of looking up someone to take care of his orchard, he yet again began to start reading one of the many books about garden and orchard care he bought at some abstract store in the city on his coffee table.

It took up hours of his time at once— taking notes, reading more, reading another book to confirm his suspicions. The words blurred together and he would force himself to consume the material again.

He was only actually taken out of the fixation once he heard a soft knock on his door many hours later. His head snapped up quickly, his bleary-looking eyes blinking multiple times to clear his haze. With a deep sigh, he closed the books, stretching his stiff muscles. He quickly rose from the chair once the knock sounded off yet again.

When he opened the door, his entire brain flatlined in an instant. You were standing there, a suitcase beside you and an unordinary looking cat nuzzling the leather. The sight of your presence, mainly very out of place in his domain. He had no idea what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. His lips parted smally, awkwardly looking everywhere except your eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," You remained straight face, the cat meowing softly, rubbing against your leg now. "I didn't know you knew how to farm." Your voice was as gentle as the knock.

"I don't." He responded, also just as straight face. "Your cat?"

"Housewarming gift."

There was no way that he could take care of a cat with how worried he is with the orchard. No matter how much the cat looked into his eyes and matched his expression, a very sentimental emotion he held for it in the moment. Still, very ironic for fate to do this to him. "Keep it."

A moment of silence came across the both of them, it was like the air that Kuni was talking about was now polluted with the same feelings he did about leaving. Which disappointed him, it was almost like he was never going to stop remembering things again.

Until you approached Kuni with a swift movement that turned into you encompassing him in a hug. The sudden hug caught him off guard, stiffening in initial reaction. It was something he didn't usually get too comfortable with in the first place, but something was different about this one. Something definitely more relieving.

"You could have just been honest from the start." You said, exhaustion finally meeting you halfway.

The more he stood there, enveloped in your warmth, the weight that was always on his shoulders loosened him. And time suspended itself momentarily, allowing him to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat sound off with his. Except his could have very well been faster than yours in that moment.

He allowed himself to lean into you after a while, to bask in your presence, and to feel the comfort that he wish he had a long time ago. "I know." He whispered, a guilty solace in his voice.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[artteristly]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍.𝐁

SUMMARY, you’ve been daphne's best friend since forever, to the point you were considered family toward her family. Though there was always this one boy who you didn’t see as family, simply as your future lover, that was daphne's older brother, a boy your age, a flirtatious boy who you mistook as someone who always jokes around, it was actually the opposite, he meant every word he uttered towards you, a sweet dream indeed.

MASTERLIST, 𝓌ord count, 4.2K

𝒮weet, a nice word Colin would always use to reminisce about his childhood. His love of the wild, the feeling of walking in the gardens alone, and simply enjoying his peaceful days. However, one summer, when he was the age of nine, Daphne waltzed into the house dragging a very clueless girl inside. 

His mother, who greeted the girl asked her what was going on, and you simply replied with a childish smile. You had told her Daphne had spotted you admiring butterflies and tagged along with you, and as the day got later, you thought it would be best to walk the six-year-old girl back home. 

Daphne insisted she should show you her home garden, talking about how multiple gorgeous butterflies passed through there. You had asked Violet if it was okay with her, and she told you it was fine but only to be careful. Colin watched you that day from a window, admiring how connected you were with nature, which he now wanted to be engulfed in. 

“That is a Morpho, a beautiful insect indeed.” You smile at Colin, who is caught off guard when you appear behind him. You crouch right next to him, making him inhale air as he turns nervous. You held out your finger to the insect and let it attach itself to your finger, slowly bringing it to Colin's face. “Pretty isn’t it? It’s quite similar to your eye color!” You smile. 

His eyes looked at you then the bug who crawled around your finger, somewhat sending goosebumps through your body, making you laugh in response. “Are you not afraid?” He muttered, pulling his knees deeper into his chest. You look at him then the bug, chuckle, and nod. “No, I like to admire beautiful things, My father also likes to do the same.” You told him, flickering your finger and making the butterfly fly away. 

“My name is Colin.” He told you, making you look at him again and smile. “I know, Daphne talks a lot about her older brothers.” You stood up, making him hastily stand up again too. “I heard you want to travel the world, correct?” You asked him, and his response was nodding his head furiously. “Then when you can, you must visit me in Italy!” You giggle. 

“You’ve been to Italy?” Colin asked you, and you saw stars in his eyes, making you blush. “I go every summer since my mother’s family lives there.” You grab his hands, making him pipe down. “You and Daphne must visit my home, I have many travel souvenirs from my trips there!” You told him, and he nodded in acceptance. 

Since then he never saw you as family, he always saw you as his first love. 

You, however, fell in love with Colin at first sight. You were studying with your father, who told you some bug facts and let you touch them. Then the sound of horses rang in your ears, and you saw a man and three boys approach your father. “Edmund! How are you, old man?” Your father smiled at him, making the other laugh. 

You looked over to see the man your father was talking to, only for your father to introduce you. “My daughter.” You look up, smiling at the man kindly making him smile towards you. “Ah, my three sons, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin.” He moved out of the way for the two of you to see. 

Your eyes widened as they laid on him, his untamed hair, and his somewhat toothless smile, as he joked with his other brother. You nod your head at them, as they do the same, and say hello, before leaving them to look at the bugs as your father talks to the other man. 

As they depart, you look over to catch him one more time, he was the first one to gallop away. He looked like a prince in your eyes, enchanting and alluring. 

Your childhood with him was a happy memory, but now times are different. You were a young lady who was about to be introduced into society but with terrible news arriving hastily to your estate in London, you couldn’t as your mother was being summoned back to Italy. 

 “Oh, how I wish you could be here for my debut.” Daphne sniffled some tears that made you giggle. “My dear Daphne, do you think I would leave without giving you something?” You bit your lip, not wanting to smile too big. Daphne looked at you in confusion but gasped when a maid handed you a box. 

“Here are your debut shoes, your mother gave me permission to get them for you, as a farewell gift.” You smiled, letting her hold the box and look at the shoes in amazement. She squealed in delight, putting the shoes aside and hugging you. “Oh, I’ll miss you! Three years will be far too long.” 

“Three years?” Violet frowned, hastily putting her teacup down. “What about your debut year, dear?” She asked all Bridgerton sisters to look at you. You sigh and frown “I will have to debut when I'm twenty and three.” You cradle your cheek with your hand, making everyone frown. “We will surely miss you, dearest.” Violet smiled sadly. 

“So will I! I already promised Daphne that I would write to her.” You held her hand, making her smile at you. “My, what is happening?” Anthony called out, breaking the tight atmosphere as he, Benedict, and Colin walked into the drawing room. “Miss Sinclair will be leaving us for three years.” Violet frowned at the news once again. 

Colin's eyes widen as he looks over towards you, only to see your face forming a frown. “Whatever for?” Colin asked, making you look at him. “My mother has affairs to attend to since my grandfather is somewhat ill.” You place down your teacup.

“Do not worry, It’ll just be for three years, I will come back, hopefully.” You smile at them, making them express how they will miss you once again. When it was about time to leave, Hyacinth begged you to bring her something back from Italy, to which you nodded to reassure her you would. 

“Now Hycinth, why don’t you let me walk her down?” Colin grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his arm, making you jump in surprise. As you two leave the drawing room, you look up towards him, smiling kindly. “I will write to you.” You told him, making him look down towards you. “I will miss you, perhaps I will visit you if I were to start my tour.” He smiled, making you laugh. You pull him into a vacant room, pulling out a wrapped gift just for him. 

“I did not want to give you this in front of your family, since I did not bring gifts for them, just you and Daphne.” You hand him the wrapped gift, making him look at you. You both heard your name being called out by a maid, meaning your carriage was ready. You told yourself ‘now or never’ as you did, you stood on your tippy toes and landed a kiss on Colin's cheek. “Goodbye, Colin.” 

He stood utterly shocked as you left the room, making your way out with a flushed face. Colin felt like a boy who had just gotten a new toy when he ran upstairs towards his room. He breathed in and out while looking at the wrapped gift, he panted as he tore it open. 

A journal? He hesitated as he undid the tie around it, watching as a note fell from it. 

‘Dear Colin, I gift you this journal to write in if you were to start your tour, to express your feelings when I am not there or when you are struggling. A journal for only your eyes. – sincerely, your girl.’ 

The room had simply gotten too hot to be in, as Colin rested in his bed and read over and over your handwriting. He groaned at the thought of your lips on his cheek, a moment he had been waiting for, and when it had finally happened, you were gone—three years of pure torture. 

He never got the opportunity to visit you in Italy when he had embarked on his journey. His tour never crossed paths in Italy, therefore he wrote to you, about how the world was different, the way of life was different, and how he wished for you to see it. When his letter got your sweet responses he would dream of you, how you would whisper the words you wrote into his ears, the texture of your lips on his neck, sweet torture. 

Three years, everything would change. He would change, and so would you. He turned into a man, a man who was no longer seen as a young boy, and you were no longer a young lady, you were a mature lady, who had seen her fair share of society. 

When the news got out that you had returned to London, Colin was bordering the next ship to go back home as soon as possible. He just groaned in annoyance as he arrived on the day of Francesca's debut, as well as yours. He just wished to see you before the event. 

He followed his family to the presentation, waiting anxiously as they called debutante after debutante. “Will you finally make a move on her?” Daphne leaned over towards Colin, making him raise a brow towards her. 

Daphne looked at him, giving him a look. “You will make her our new sister, right?” Hyacinth butted in, making him look at all three of his sisters. “You should hurry up if you are, I feel this season will be different.” Daphne smiled at him, before turning over towards Francesca who rose from her curtsy at the queen, leaving quickly as she came.

“Miss Sinclair, presented by her Mother, Duchess of York, Lady Amelia Sinclair–Bianchi.” 

Colin felt his airways clog up as he watched you gracefully present yourself to the queen, a gated beauty now being unlocked to the public. He hated the fact you caught the attention of the queen, you might have been announced the Diamond of the season until he saw the queen just smile and wave you off. 

You looked rather mature now, your posture was straight and your smile was now on display to the Ton who faced you with curiosity. He let his eyes wander your covered body, he shouldn’t, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second. 

“The clock is ticking brother, it is now or never,” Daphne whispered into his ear, making him swallow at the thought of confessing to you. She was right, now or never. 

“Miss Sinclair, Ma’am.” A valet called out to the family who was in the drawing room, making everyone cheer up. It had been a few days after the presentation, and since you were preoccupied with potential suitors, you hadn’t gotten the chance to visit the family. 

Colin fixed his posture on the sofa, making everyone tease him. “Good day!” You’re cheerful attitude was brought into the blue room, making every family member cheer when you showed up. “Dear, good to see you!” Violet stood up and hugged you, making you giggle. 

“It’s good to see you all, it’s been a long time hasn't it?” You leave the hug to study the faces in the room, but you can’t recognize two. “Ah, you must Simon? Daphne has mentioned you in her letters!” You place a bag on the floor, offering a hand to the man who took it politely. “You must be her dearest friends is that so?” Simon smiled as you nodded furiously. 

You turn over towards the other figure in the room, making your smile widen more. “You must be Kate!” You rush in to hug her, making her stumble a bit back. “Sorry, It’s a pleasure to meet the person who captured Anthony’s heart!” You apologize quickly, making the new Viscountess laugh. 

“The pleasure is mine, I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.” Kate smiled, and the thought of her clumsy sister came to mind, seeing you made her smile warmly. “Again sorry I couldn’t attend your weddings, Italy has been a bit troublesome.” You look at every face in the room, they have nothing but questions. 

“Oh my!” You tumbled a bit when Hycinth and Gregory hugged you tight, making the rest laugh. “My have you two grown!” You smiled as the two started to bicker about who grew taller, but you interrupted them with a cough. “Neither the less, I come bearing gifts!” 

You laugh as the youngsters sit down, giving the floor to you. “I suppose I’ll go from oldest to youngest.” You mutter as the first two sons cheer, making the younger ones groan. “Violet.” You start, by making the oldest groan, making the others laugh at their behavior. “A pearl necklace.” You handed it to her, making her gasp at its beauty, standing up to kiss your cheek. 

“For Anthony, An Italian-style quill.” You take out of the bag and handed it out for him to study. “Italian brandy for Simon.” You handed the man, making him utterly speechless. 

“Daphne wasn’t particular in her letter about what you liked, so I took a wild guess, I hope you like it.” You explained, making him reassure you it was adequate. “Benedict, I heard you were no longer into paintings but had already purchased it, I hope it makes you want to paint again, Italian paint oils, for you.” You handed him, making him look at the paint, then giving you a small smile.

“To match with Anthony, Kate, I got you an Italian-style quill in purple.” You handed her, making her gasp and hug you. “Colin.” He looked at you, making him sit still as he took in your tone. “I got you, Italian maps and a new journal.” You handed him, making you smile as his blue eyes met yours, smiling at you. 

“Daphne, a perfume set to match with Hyacinth, a rather popular book series in italy for dear Eloise, An Italian music sheet for Franny, and a Bow and arrows for Gregory.” You wrap up, watching as the four squeal at their gifts, making you smile. As you sit back down, right next to the brunette, watching as everyone interacts with their gifts.

“Thank you for the gifts,” Colin whispers into your ear, making you burn up. “Of course, but I will say I must need something in return for yours.” You tease him. 

He was now looking at you directly, making you smile. “What would that be?” He asked raising a brow, making you tap your chin, acting as if you were thinking about it. “Perhaps you can let me read a page or two of your journal?” You ask of him, making him still. 

Colin’s mind wandered to the many things he wrote inside his journal, to the late-night adventurous, then to the thoughts of you, dear little you. He opened his mouth, about to answer until his brother interrupted. “Well, let’s head to dinner everyone.” Anthony stood up, guiding his wife to follow him. 

You two watched as everyone spilled out of the drawing room, leaving you and Colin to be the last ones in the room. You took a glance towards him, breath hitching as you saw him already staring. “Would you care to accompany me to a late evening stroll after dinner?” Colin smiled, that smile, the one that made you want to melt. “How could I decline.” You smile, walking downstairs with him. 

During dinner, Colin noticed how much he missed you. How you brought the mood up by answering questions, making light jokes, and playing with the younger ones. Simon and Kate had taken a liking to you, making you blush. He saw his mother laugh at something you said, a laugh so childish. 

Everyone seemed at ease, forgetting the hardships they fought last season. A feeling he had missed dearly while at sea, missing you. As everyone departed from dinner, you and Colin walked through his outdoor garden. “You’ve been to three cities in three months?!” You gasp, making you look at him, him laughing at your face. “What like it’s hard!” 

“It is unless they were all next to each other!” You whack his bicep, gasping at how firm it was. “My goodness, Colin!” You release your arm out of his, making him laugh. “Last time I saw you, you were still bones!” You knocked him over a bit, but it didn’t affect him at all. “Your style too! Who changed you!” You giggled. 

“Paris changed me a bit, why? You don’t like it?” He told you, the last bit catching you off guard. He looked at you for your response. You take your time studying him, you can’t deny it, he did look good. “I do, it makes you look more mature.” You huff, walking away from him. 

He walked right behind you, trying to catch up to you. “Seems like Italy changed you too, you look pretty.” Colin grabbed your hand and brought the back of it to kiss. You watched as he kissed it, bending down to your height to do so. “You jest around too much, Colin.” Colin heard you say so and could feel your hand trembling as he did so, making him smile. “Look! A Dandelion!” You snatch your hand away, marching where you saw the plant. 

He watched as you bent down to pick some, he noticed you two were quite far from the house. There you stood in front of a miniature field of Dandelions. Colin looked at you as you picked some up but they blew away before you got a chance to blow on it. “Hurry Colin!” You looked at him with such joy in your eyes, that his heart couldn’t take it. When you look at him, he has never felt so alive and free, only something he could muster up by being with you. 

You giggled as you walked back towards Colin, offering him a dandelion. “I could never find one of these in Italy, how I missed them.” You smiled at him, making him quiet up. 

“Let’s make a wish!” You told him, bringing his hand up to yours. He could only watch as you counted to three, making him lean in and blow on it the same time you did. He wished for many things, such as courage and luck. 

He wished for you, he wished you could be his, he wished he gained your father's blessing to marry you. If one thing came true, he would wish on every dandelion here if it meant he would get you. As he opened his eyes, he only saw you. 

You smiled as you could see his blue eyes, making you laugh. “What did you wish for?” You asked but then bit back. “Wait! Don’t tell me or it won’t come true!” You said but kept rambling on about the rules of wishing. He stayed quiet, he only looked at you with desire. Not daring to break the gap between you two. “Colin?” He felt his heart palpitate as you usher his name quietly. 

“I wished for you.” He whispered, making you quiet up. “I can’t hold these feelings in anymore, dear.” His tone made you only focus on him, his words felt sweet as a dream, was it a dream? 

“Colin, what are you talking about?” You murmured as you wanted more information. “I love you, very very much.” He brought your hands to his lips, hiding his face in them after. “I’ve loved you since we were nine, when you compared me to a Morpho.” You just looked at him as he rambled on. 

“I wanted to visit you in Italy, and to propose to you immediately, but then Anthony stopped me, telling me to wait until you were introduced into society.” Colin went on. “Then when I saw you in your white ball gown, when I saw you dolled up, I wanted you.” 

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you being with someone else, I would be a fool to not take the chance now, so here I am, begging you to give me a chance.” He begged. “I want to cherish you, love you, grow old with you, please allow me to do so.” 

You looked at him in shock, tears brimming your water line. “You’re not joking with me, right?” You sob, blinking as you let the tears float down. “This isn’t a dream, right?” You crouch down. Colin watched as you sobbed, confused but followed you. “This isn’t a dream and I’m not joking.” Colin wiped the tears away, cradling your cheek gently. 

“Why would I joke about that?” He asked you, making you sniffle and reply. “I always thought you were joking around with me.” You wipe your tears away. “I would never!” 

“I love you till the day that I die!” Colin grabbed your hands, declaring how much you mean to him. You watched as he defended himself from your silly little statement. You giggled, making him stop. “You’re still the same after all.” You watch as he becomes confused. “You’re still the childish and sensitive Colin I know.” You smile as you watch him groan in his hands.

“I love you too, Colin, ever since we were children I wanted to marry you, you were my prince charming.” You say, making him still as a rock. Colin hugged you, effortlessly picking you up into the air, making you shriek. “Is that a yes?” Colin asked you hurriedly, making you raise a brow. “To marry you?” 

Colin nodded hastily, he pulled something out of his waistcoat pocket. A ring was presented to you, making you look at him in awe. “I would love to marry you, Colin!” You exclaim happily, not being able to contain your happiness you jump into his arms. 

He spun you around in delight. As he placed you down again, he gently placed the ring on your finger, making you lightly sob again. You two laugh and giggle as he offers his handkerchief, and as you walk back into the house, a valet tells you that your family has arrived to pick you up. 

“A good way to break the news, no?” Colin smiled as he looked down towards you, you laughed and nodded in agreement. As you walked into the drawing room, you couldn’t help but tear up again, making your parents worry. 

You and Colin looked at each other and nodded, he declared that you two were engaged and you just watched as everyone reacted. Daphne was the first one to cheer, happily approving of this union as she hugged you tightly. “Finally!” She jumped happily hugging her brother next. 

The whole moment felt like a sweet dream, you were scared it was all an Illusion. 

Then everything went black, the sweet moment torn away from you as you fell into an abyss. “Dear?” A faint voice called out, making you groan. “Dear.” It called out again, making you open your eyes, as you were vision was flooded with a blue-colored ceiling. 

“Finally you awoke.” A warm voice called out, making you hum and turn to see who was speaking. Colin, it was Colin who was leaving a trail of kisses on your collarbone, to your cheek. You look around you to see your surroundings, a room mixed with baby blues and baby purples, your nightgown flung on a chair as well as Colin's nightshirt next to it. 

Then returning to reality, you sighed as you two were cuddled in your warm bed, melting back into his embrace. “What happened?” He asked as he snuggled closer into you, making you scrunch up. “I had a dream.” You spoke out, he hummed out making you aware he was listening. You brought your hand up to your face to scratch your nose, only to see your wedding ring on your finger. 

“I had a dream about when you declared your love for me, and when you told me to marry you.” You told him, shuffling around to look at him in the eyes, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“You still remember that day clear as day?” He smiled at you, making you smile as well. “Word to word, every single thing.” You kiss his nose as he turns a flustered color. “Impeccable remembrance my wife has.” Colin drags you into his chest as you two stay in bed for a little longer. 

“How could I forget it? One of the happiest days of my life.” You mumble onto his chest as he sends a vibration of his laugh down to your ear. “One of mine as well.” He agreed. 

After a pinch of silence, you spoke again. “It was a sweet dream.” You snuggled into his warmth, wanting nothing more to melt into him. Colin allowed you to do so, whispering sweet words into your ear making your naked body heat up with warmth. Then after a slight moment to yourselves, a squeal ran across the hall to your door. “Mummy!” A little one called out right after. 

[deliontower]

Wild flowers | s.p

pairing: Sejanus x gn!reader

summary: Sejanus finds you in the meadow

warnings: mainly fluff, small mentions of the games and some light spoilers for the movie and book

word count: 800

a/n: saw the movie a few nights ago and wow, I’m me fashion i did like the book better but the movie was still amazing and I have the old therebefore on repeat . I wrote this for my bestie because she couldn’t find Sejanus fics. This probably could be edited better

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

The summer air was sweet, the flowers of the meadow had bloomed overnight, as far as the eye could see. Lily of the valley, young primeroses , deep purple violets, and dozens more you couldn’t name.

Hidden behind a massive tree, its leaves shading you from the harsh sun. This time of year in district 12 was unbearable. Only the rich could afford to keep cool, and you certainly wasn’t that.

Six days out of the week you worked in the local doctor’s. It couldn’t quite be called a hospital but it was one of the only places people could go and get medical care.

You lent back against the tree, weaving your hands through the tall grass and flowers. Bees buzzed but gave no mind to you. The day was turning out well, you had brought some fresh bakers bread and a lump of cheese, and a jug of water. Simple and delicious.

The mockingjays song hit your ears, the tune was familiar but the name escaped you. Humming along, some words came to mind.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

Deep in the meadow, a song a local brand was known to play, you had only seen them a handful of times but the songs stuck. Like it had for the birds.

The sound of stones falling and fallen twigs snapping pulled you out of a dream and jumping to your feet, frowning in the sunlight you spotted, Sejanus Plinth.

Sejanus had been a peacekeeper once but shortly after he had found his way to the doctors, where he was training to be a medic. He rarely spoke about this life before 12 but from the times he had (and from what the doctors said) he came from a rich family in the capitol.

“You following me, Sejanus?” you asked. Your tone was serious, his whole body went still. Then you laughed. “Come sit with me then, might even share my food with you”.

In his hand he carried a brown paper bag, “then I guess you can have some of mine”. He dropped the bag in your lap, opening the bag you found cookies.

Now this was proof he was rich, the baker sold cookies but only the other merchants could afford them Sejanus went on to explain, his Ma had sent them, blushing the whole time.

The shy blushed look made you laugh, “that’s very sweet of her, she must miss you an awful lot”.

“Just as I miss her” he replied in a sad voice.

“You might see her again, learn enough and you could go back to her” you said, laying a hand over his. His hands were cold, cold hands warm heart you mama used to say.

“I don’t want to go back there” he said.

What you said next came as a surprise to even her, “I can teach you a few things, like what plants heal and where to find them”.

“You’d do that” he asked unsure.

“Of course. We don’t have many doctors here and if you’re planning on staying I’d teach you”. You stood, putting the cookies on your bag. “There’s a lake deeper in the woods, you’ll find all the best stuff there”.

He followed and stood up looking through the trees, maybe he didn’t trust you and thought you were leading him to his death.

“Hey” you touched his hand again, “keep north and you’ll find the lake then it’s south to get back, you can trust me”.

He smiled and suddenly the sun seemed dimmer, he took your hand and squeezed it ,“okay, I trust you”.

The hike took a few hours, but the sight of the lake proved it was worth it. You found a patch of herbs close by one of the old houses, it might have been someone’s garden once.

You showed him peppermint that helped with nausea, liquorice to reduce swelling, lemon balm for sleep and any others you could make without the book of herbs and flowers you had at home.

“Where did you learn all this?” He rubbed a peppermint leaf between his finger and thumb. You pick a lemon Balm inhaling the smell, smiling.

“My mama was an apothecary, always been my dream to follow in her footsteps. What about you? Do you have any dreams?”.

“To help people anyway I can”

It was so easy to talk to him, somewhere in your heart you knew he’d understand. Maybe it was his eyes, brown the colour of chocolate. Sejanus was sweet, too sweet for the world, you thought that if it rained he’d melt away like sugar.

“I have a feeling you’re gonna do wonderful things Sejanus” I smiled and he smiled back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 37

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: wowee, it's snowing here a lot.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki… Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t linger. As you lay in a sheen of foggy afterglow, he dresses and mutters to himself. You want to ask him to stay. To tell him it’s okay but you’re scared he might say no. So you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him button his shirt.

“We both require a good night’s rest to contend with my family,” he says.

You nod and sit up, sliding your legs beneath the blankets. He looks up as you do and a line creases in his forehead. His worry makes you worry. You’re starting to get the feeling that something bad is looming.

“In the morning,” he avows before he turns away. “You will not emerge until I fetch you.”

“Yes, Loki,” you answer.

He stops at the doors and lowers his head, “here, behind these walls, I am Loki, beyond, Mr. Laufeyson. Understand, pet?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur.

He pulls open the door and steps out swiftly. The mechanism clicks into place and you fall back onto the pillows. You deflate beneath the downy duvet and close your eyes. He confuses you. One moment, he’s all over you, all-consuming and insatiable, the next he’s distant and icy to the touch. 

You hug the top of the blanket and cling to his lingering warmth. Your thighs tingle and your core plucks as you clench, thinking of how his fingers delved deep into you. Why couldn’t he stay? You could have done more. You think you’re ready to.

It’s never what you want. You will await his signal and as always, you will take his lead. That is better. His words ring in your head from that fateful day, ‘obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for.’

What do you long for? That question follows you into your subconscious. You sink into the void, the knot of anxiety bound around your chest. Visions of rich greenery and fluttering petals fill your head, birds winging and critters chirping all around. The magical garden is a shrine of rosy sunlight.

Your mind builds a paradise and all at once, it falls around you. Your eyes roll open as you float back to the surface. Your lashes stick together as you blink and groan. It’s early, too early. Dawn paints a violet hue across the room. You lift your head and search around. Something must have woken you but there’s nothing but shadows.

You drop your head back down and groan. You turn onto your side and curl up, tucking a hand under the pillow. You squeeze your eyes shut, reaching for the last dregs of drowsiness. Your head swirls as you feel yourself descending again. 

You’re brought back again. This time, you catch the noise. Your ears prick and you lift yourself to look over at the door, a gentle scuffing on the other side.

What’s happening? 

You squint, your vision dulled in the lowlight. You sit up and push back the blankets as you sidle to the end of the bed. You see a black spot beneath the doors, darker than the rest of the slatted shadow. It moves. There’s someone out there.

The bed creaks as you bend your legs over the edge. Who could it be? Mr. Laufeyson?

A tap on the wood makes you flinch. The handle wiggles but doesn’t press down. Your heart thumps in your chest. A whisper comes through, “pet…”

Your spine goes rigid. Pet? It must be Mr. Laufeyson, but why doesn’t he just let himself in? You don’t recall locking the door before you went to sleep. You get up and creep forward.

“Pet, let me in,” the whisper is sandy and low. Is it really him? Who else would it be?

You unzip your bag in the dark and pick out a nightgown from the bottom, jostling the rest of the clothes. You slip it over your head and rub your eyes. You shiver as the air is cooled in the darkness.

You near the door and grab the handle so it stills. There’s tension as you twist it. It releases and unlatches easily. The lock is not in place. You pull it open a crack and squeak at the large, looming silhouette on the other side.

“Ah, pet, you’re awake,” Thor rasps.

“What–” you gulp, “what are you doing?”

“You didn’t come say hello,” he drawls, “so, hello, pet.”

You blink at him and push on the door. He slaps his hand against it, the wood shaking between you. You know he’s much strong, you can’t close him out.

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I– I’m trying to sleep,” you eke out. If Laufeyson knew…

“You are funny, pet,” he chuckles.

“Please, go, I’ll see you in the morning–”

“But I am here now,” he jerks the door, just a little, just a statement: he can open it if he wants.

“Why?” 

“Why?” He huffs, “you haven’t very good manners, pet. My brother has trained you poorly–”

“Please leave me alone,” you beg, jittering. Just the mention of his brother has your heart in your throat. He said to avoid Thor but what do you do when he seeks you out.

‘To the right of your door…’ you pluck the words from your memory and shudder.

“I just want to talk,” he edges the door in another inch and you stumble back.

You spin and run to the wall, pounding on it with your fists. You must seem crazy but you don’t care. You hit it over and over, “Mr. Laufeyson! Mr. Laufeyson!”

You’re wrench back as a large hand frames the back of your neck. Thor turns you and claps his other hand over your mouth, hushing you. You whimper as you shrink in his shadow.

“What are you doing? I’ve only come to talk–”

You wriggle and put both your hands around his wrist. It’s so thick, neither hand can fit all the way around. You kick out as he keeps you pinned to the wall.

“Haven’t I been nice to you?” He growls, “so why do you treat me as a villain, little maid…” he leans in, “perhaps because your thoughts have corrupted me, hm? Naughty little maid.”

His voice lightens playfully as he tilts your head up. You squirm as your hand slides down his forearm. Your other swings out to hit his chest.

“What do you think I’d do? If I am so evil, what could I do?” He taunts as he pulls you from the wall. He drags you towards the bed, “what have you done, eh?” He says as he edges towards the bed, “you’ve already made a mess.”

He throws you back onto the rumpled duvet and you squeak. You push yourself up on your elbows and bring your heels onto the mattress. You push yourself back as he looms over you.

“Aren’t you supposed to take care of messes, little maid?” He bends and puts his hands on the bed, snarling through his teeth. He catches your ankle and pulls your leg straight, tugging you down to your back as you yipe. “Let’s make a mess–”

He grunts and suddenly staggers, releasing you as a dark blur crashes into him. He hits the night table and sends the lamp to the floor. He deflects Mr. Laufeyson as he charges again and they tangle each other up in their arms.

“You beast,” Laufeyson hisses, “get out!”

“Ah, brother, lovely to see you here,” Thor chuckles, “we were only just talking about you–”

“Shut up!” Laufeyson snaps, hooking his leg around his brothers. 

“Don’t be so… dramatic,” Thor heaves as they struggle, pulling back and forth as each tries to overturn the other, “I was only getting to know her–”

“Get out!” Laufeyson repeats, “or I will truly be dramatic. Let mother see the cretin you truly are–”

“Speak for yourself–”

“Get!” You throw out your foot and kick Thor’s shoulder, immediately regretting it as he barely reacts. You scurry back and hug your legs.

“Aye, little maid,” Thor sounds amused, “isn’t that cute?”

“Brother, I tell you one last time–”

Thor cracks his elbow into Laufeyson’s ribs. The slimmer man lets go with a wheeze but doesn’t falter long as he slides between the burly blond and the bed. He coughs out another warning, “go.”

“I’m going,” Thor says lightly, “you always were so serious, brother.”

He waves off Laufeyson and steps away, sending you a look through the rising dim. You cower and watch him stalk away. Mr. Laufeyson follows and swiftly shuts him out, turning the lock with a loud click.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and lower yourself to the floor. You pick up the lamp and straighten the table. You flip the switch and the light radiates around you. You turn to Mr. Laufeyson as he holds his ribs and scowls, slumping back towards you.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you rush towards him, “Mr. Laufeyson…” you reach to touch him but think better of it, retracting your hands to fold your arms over your chest, “I… Thank you.”

He sniffs and sits on the side of the bed. He pushes back his dark hair and winces. You hover before him nervously, shaking like a hummingbird.

“You did well… calling for me,” he says quietly, “that was very good, pet.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought it was you knocking. I didn’t mean to–”

“I said, you did well,” he interjects as he outstretches his arms, beckoning you closer. He touches your upper arms and draws you straight, “are you alright?”

You quiver and nod, “I think…”

“Good, good,” He pulls you closer and leans forward to kiss your forehead, “I will sleep here then. Just until the morning comes.”

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves as you dress for the day. He bids you to lock the door behind him. He’s been silent but not in his usual way. Pensive but not dour. You put on a poppy red blouse with a brown skirt. 

You ready out of habit, your mind still trapped in the night's events. First, Laufeyson and the wonderful way he made you feel. Then Thor and the horror he brought into your room. It almost feels like a bad dream.

You go to the door but don’t emerge. What if Thor is waiting? You shudder as you think of what he would’ve done if you hadn’t called for Mr. Laufeyson. If you hadn’t been heard.

The door shakes as a tap rattles you from your trance, “darling,” Frigga calls through, “are you awake?”

You inhale deeply, throat tight, and unlock the door. You pull it open and force a smile, “yes, I was just… about to come out.”

“Wonderful,” she trills, “we are having tea in the garden.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” she takes your hand, “after tea,” she drags you out as you pull the door closed with your other hand, “we will go into town and get a few things for the celebration. Flowers, as I said. And perhaps a new outfit.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly.

“Did you sleep well?” She asks as you get to the stairs, “you are quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer.

“Yes, I do find it difficult to sleep in new places,” she hums, “well, we only want you to feel at home so do let me know if I can do anything.”

You press your lips together and nod. Could you ask her to make Thor leave you alone? Or to make Mr. Laufeyson a little less stormy? No, but you suppose you could ask for some chamomile before bed.

She takes you through the grand foyer and into the next room, winding around to the elaborate dining room and the back entryway that opens onto an equally awe-inspiring veranda. The railings are wrapped in ivy and flowers, marble pots on plinths hold bunches of gardenia and the big square table at the center has four chairs on either side. Much too big for the meagre party at it.

As you approach, you see Mr. Laufeyson’s shoulders, straight and stiff as he grips the armrests. He glares across at Thor who smiles dopily at the sky. As you get closer, his eyes find you and you wilt down. Frigga draws you onward as Odin stands from the table to offer you the chair beside him.

“There she is,” he says, “come, sit.”

You obey, claiming the seat to his right as Frigga skirts around to take his right. Laufeyson sits along the side just to your own right and leans forward as you wiggle in the chair. He gives you a look and you bow your head slightly.

“What do you like? Milk? Sugar? Honey?” Odin offers as he pours a cup and places it on a saucer before you.

“Just milk,” you answer.

Thor puts his arm on the table as you feel him watching you. Laufeyson clears his throat but his brother doesn’t acknowledge him. You look down at the tea as it clouds with dairy.

“Isn’t this nice?” Thor booms, “I apologise, I was errant yesterday and hadn’t a moment to welcome you.”

You flinch and Laufeyson squeezes the armrest tighter, bristling visibly.

“Now,” Odin sits back, “boys, this is a special week for your mother. She’s working hard, you will not ruin this.”

“Wouldn’t dare think of it,” Thor puffs, “I was only being polite and welcoming the little maid.”

Little maid… the words make you recoil.

“Little maid?” Odin echoes, “don’t be so demeaning. She has a name or perhaps she should call you the big oaf.”

Thor tilts his head and snorts, peering between you and his father. “Forgive me, I thought that’s what she was.”

“Regardless, she is a person and a guest. You will remember your manners,” Odin reproaches.

“Yes, father,” Thor utters dryly and receives a sigh in return.

“Oh, let’s not spoil such a lovely day,” Frigga chimes, “isn’t it so nice to be all together ag–”

“Ugh, must the sun shine so goddamn bright,” the silty voice undergirds Frigga’s chirp. You look over as Hela struts in, a large pair of geometric sunglasses over her eyes, “remind me next time not to finish the bottle.”

“Hel,” Odin greets curtly as Frigga blinks in surprise.

“When did you arrive?” Frigga asks, “Hilde didn’t say.”

“I slept in my car,” Hela answers and struts to the table, sitting next to Laufeyson, “well, I woke up there, at least.”

“Oh my,” Frigga mutters.

“I got here early though,” Hela preens, “when’s that ever happened, mother? And all for Walpurgisnacht, though I guess Midsommar is some time off.”

“Yes, very timely,” Frigga agrees softly, “well, you can come along with us to town. You’ve always had a keen eye.”

“Oh, I may,” Hela smirks, “who is us?”

Frigga looks at you and you give a tiny wave. Hela grins and takes off her sunglasses, winking at you, “I almost didn’t notice the little mouse. Well, I think I shall join you.” She squints and shades her face before putting the glasses back in place, “tell me we have some breakfast wine.”

“Have some tea,” Odin insists, “and a bit of decency.”

[borathae]

“His touch is electric, making you sigh. “Relax, princess”, he whispers, running his hands along your body, “I’ll take the greatest care of you”. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where he won’t ever let you collide. Alternatively: You ask Yoongi to take your anal virginity and he is more than willing to grand you this wish.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: soft Dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, the tension in this makes me weak, they are so in love!!, first time anal sex, he is so gentle with her, lingerie, body worship, strength kink, a lil bit of thigh riding, praising & loving petnames, oral (f.receiving), rimming, he fucks her hole with his monster tongue help, gentle biting, anal fingering, use of a buttplug, hand holding, hair pulling (m.receiving), use of a vibrator, he fucks her gently at first then she wants it harder, gentle spanking, he cums too soon but keeps fucking her, creampies, using cum as lube, dirty talk, edging (f.receiving), multiple orgasms for both, squirting, belly bulging, his stroke game is insane, the most loving aftercare, honestly their connection should be illegal, I came outta this smut feeling like someone threw me against a wall, like hoLY FUCK Yoongi is gonna kill me, and the worst thing is that I actually think he’s like that irl, please help me

Wordcount: 9.1k

a/n: I need five business weeks to be able to talk to people again. This made me weak. And weak isn’t a strong enough word to describe the amount of weak it made me feel. It’s like my body felt the gravity twice as strong and I couldn’t get up. I’m talking shit rn, which is yet another indicator of how deeply this shit affected me. Be strong besties, you need that 🧡 

You haven’t been home in months. You counted the days. It’s been seventy eight days since you last saw your bedroom. Your plants are well taken care of by the others. You haven’t seen them either, except for phone calls and texts. You miss them, but you know it’s for the best. 

You are safe here, in good hands. You aren’t completely alone here. 

Yoongi is with you. He took you in one of the cars and is staying with you. Meredith called and offered the two of you her guest bedroom to stay, her library to study and her shed to practice. Of course you said yes. There aren’t many opportunities to practice with such skilled witches and it was an opportunity to go on a lovely summer holiday with your dearest love. 

The days are hot and sunny. It’s been summer ever since you came here and it will stay summer for a long time still. You love the weather here, while Yoongi whines about the bright sun on more occasions than one. 

Meredith offered you an opportunity to choose from all the different guest bedrooms, but you and Yoongi decided to take the one you had all those many months ago. Violet walls and mahogany furniture, with its window overlooking the garden and ocean. This room has seen so many of your most impactful memories and will therefore always feel like home to you. 

Yoongi agrees. He loves this room and on most mornings you have to be the one to wrestle him off of you in order to get out of bed. Truly, Yoongi is such a clingy kitten when it comes to morning cuddles. 

You love life here. You love knowing that you can wake up to the smell of the ocean and the sounds of the waves. You love knowing that your fellow witches will be downstairs with breakfast and that you can chat with them about the garden, magic and life here. You love their house because it felt like home and you love knowing that you can experience all of this with Yoongi. 

You spend a lot of time practicing your magic with him. Obviously as this was the main reason for this trip. Yoongi wanted to help you with learning perfect control and Meredith’s place was the perfect place to do so. Next to practicing, you also had a lot of free time with him which you spend doing the most amazing things imaginable. On Sundays the two of you take the car to the market to shop for next week’s dinners. He always insists on carrying the heavier bags while you are busy carrying flowers (he insists on paying for them and never takes no as an answer). Whenever you finished practice earlier and the witches were busy with coven duties, Yoongi took you to one of the many restaurants along the coastline. You shared so many lovely evenings in little restaurants, chatting over food for you and coffee for him. You have been getting to know each other even better because of it. Speaking of talking, you do that a lot. Whilst driving around, visiting the market, eating at restaurants or walking along the beach. Also in bed. Be it after a passion-filled night, a lazy evening or a cozy morning. You truly talk a lot and it’s never getting boring. 

Yoongi also spends a lot of time playing the guitar. It’s during those nights after practice and dinner and you agreed on healthy alone time, where you can watch him sit with his guitar by the beach or somewhere in the garden. Sometimes the wind blows just right and carries over his melodies while you relax on the patio with a good book. You like those nights as they are filled with tranquillity and somehow the cuddles you share afterwards feel a hundred times better. 

You also spend a lot of time swimming. Yoongi not so much, because he hates getting into the water, but you really enjoy it. You spend most of your late mornings swimming in the ocean and sometimes one of the witches will join you and you will chat over life there. 

Yoongi would either play the guitar sitting cross-legged on his towel or he would be somewhere inside, most definitely chatting with Jelena. 

You like Jelena. She is lovely and sweet and her very obvious interest in Yoongi is still topic of many teasing comments you throw at him. He always whines and pouts, which results in you giggling. He never acted on her interest. One night you dared to suggest that he was allowed to act on them if he wanted to, which resulted in Yoongi genuinely getting mad at you and staying out all night. You made up the next day and he made you promise him to never ever suggest something like that again. You never did again and hugged him for a good hour before you left bed.

Said night was already forgotten and forgiven these days and life has been great. Truly and genuinely great.

 You were in the shed. It was only an hour until sunset and the shed was flooded with golden light. The witches aren’t home today and won’t return until tomorrow. Coven duty somewhere in the mountains. A werewolf pack was attacked by werewolf hunters last night and the witches were called for aid. The hunters weren’t from the coast and still haven’t been located.

You and Yoongi stayed back. You for practicing and Yoongi for making sure the house stayed safe. The last time you saw him, he was in the kitchen with his lower arms covered in flour and his waist accentuated by an apron as he baked too many loaves of bread. That was a few hours ago.

A knock on the shed door makes you lift your head.

“How’s it going?” Yoongi asks. He is wearing a white button up and blue jeans. His arms are clean and the apron is shrugged off.

“Good. Did you finish the bread?”

“Yeah, they’re cooling down”, Yoongi says and walks to you. He sits down on the rattan chair next to you, resting his elbows on his knees. He reaches out, patting the top of your head, “show me what you got”, he says as he caresses the back of your head.

Yoongi gave you the task of practicing focus by painting flowers by using nothing but your magic.

You focus hard on lifting the brush and tipping it into the paints. You draw a small flower next to the one you practiced before he came inside. Then you end it with a heart in which you write his initials.

Yoongi chuckles fondly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

You place the brush back onto the ground, turning your head to beam up at him.

“And? That was really good, wasn’t it?”

“It was perfect, my love”, Yoongi praises.

You giggle, turning in your position so you were facing him. Like this, you are sitting on the ground in front him, cross-legged and with your eyes sparkling just for him.

“I’ll be an artist if I continue being that great, right?”

“Of course”, he smiles fondly, caressing your cheek, “you’ll be the greatest artist.”

“You’ll buy my art, won’t you?”

“Of course, my sweet princess.”

You wiggle your shoulders because he makes you feel good. He studies your face with love drunk eyes.

“Hey, Yoongs?” you ask.

“Yes, my love?”

“You know what we talked about on Sunday?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I thought about it and I think I want to do it tonight.”

Yoongi widens his eyes for just a second, before his fond warm gaze returns.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not doing it for you. I want to try it”, you say, reaching out to feel up his shin mindlessly, “when you put your fingers up there, it felt really good and you’re always so gentle. And the witches aren’t here tonight, which means we can be loud. Yeah”, you feel your cheeks heat up, “I wanna try it.”

He smiles gently, caressing your chin as he has it between his thumb and pointer finger. His head tilts to the side, his eyes lower fondly.

“Then we gotta do it”, he says, “princess’ orders, yeah?”

You laugh, nodding your head. Yoongi chuckles and places his hand on the back of your head to tilt it up and kiss your forehead.

“You’re so cute”, he says, guiding his kisses down along your nose until he can claim your lips in a kiss.

You sigh, hooking your arms behind his head and getting to your knees instantly. Yoongi’s body follows your movements instinctively and just seconds later, you are on his lap without the kiss ever turning awkward.

Yoongi runs his big hands up and down your body. He feels up your legs, butt, hips and back, he lingers on your cheeks and switches up between touching you and hugging you against his chest. It feels so good. He feels so good.

By the time, you break the kiss for the first time, your hips are squirming on his thigh and your breathing is quickened. Yoongi looks up at you warmly. His chest heaves up and down as well, his hands are on your hips.

“You got me so good”, you say and giggle.

“I know, princess love. I can smell it”, Yoongi says, smiling fondly.

“God, embarrassing”, you say, hiding away in the crook of his neck.

“Why?” Yoongi says and chuckles, patting your butt, “I like it. Why’s it embarrassing?”

“Because I can’t even be secretly horny with you.”

He laughs, “why you wanna be secret about it? Don’t hide that from me”, he says and grabs your butt just so he can tug you snug against him. You gasp because of it, writhing from the sudden pressure on your warmth, “I love that smell, don’t you dare tryna keep that from me”, he rasps, moving your hips back and forth.

“Yoongi”, you sigh, feeling deep tingles in your tummy.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Feels good.”

“Mhm, I know”, he whispers and stops even if you whine in complaint.

“Don’t stop.”

“Mhm”, he hums, getting to his feet with you in his arms, “let’s get you inside. It’s getting too cold.”

You know what will come soon and it makes you press yourself closer to him.

“But you have to go somewhere else when I get cleaned. It’s embarrassing”, you tell him.

“I promise. You can have all the privacy you need.”

 Yoongi goes downstairs as you get cleaned. Of course he does, because when he promises something he actually means it. You don’t feel stressed or nervous about getting yourself ready for him, because you know that he will give you all the time you need.

You don’t bother to put on clothes once you are happy with the result. Instead, you pick out a set of lingerie with matching stockings and the necklace Yoongi got you. A droplet of his blood was infused into a blue gemstone and the purest gold frames it in a delicate heart shaped pendant. Knowing how much such a present meant with him makes you want to cry each time you put it on.

You feel really pretty, making your way downstairs with a skip in your steps.

You find Yoongi in the kitchen, humming to himself as he listens to music through his ear buds and washes the tomatoes he picked from the garden. He will make dinner with them later.

You close the distance between you and him, snaking your arms around him from behind.

“Mhm”, Yoongi lifts his head and presses back into you.

He dries his hands, takes out his ear buds and touches you.

“Don’t mind me”, you say.

He turns in your arms, showing off the smile he sports. It grows as his eyes land on your body.

“Oh, princess”, he says, picking you up just to lift you on the kitchen counter, “look at you. You shouldn’t have dressed up.”

“Why not?”

“Because”, he presses his hips against you, feeling up your lower back, “now I gotta rip this off of you. You are so beautiful, fucking shit look at you.”

You laugh, feeling your heart flutter.

“Do you like it?” you ask, posing for him.

“I love it”, he says, running his hands over the fabric of your panties and stockings, “where’d you hide that from me? It’s fucking beautiful on you.”

“In my suitcase.”

“Mhm princess”, he purrs, running his hands up your torso until he can trace your bra, “I should spank your cute butt for keeping this from me for so long.”

You draw closer, tangling your fingers in his long hair.

“Fuck it instead”, you whisper.

Yoongi’s eyes flit to your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of them a second later.

“Deal?” you ask, gazing at his lips.

“You already know my answer, princess”, he rasps, drawing closer until his kiss is just a tilt of your head away. The tension twists your stomach addictively.

“I need to hear it”, you sigh.

“Fuck, don’t tease”, he rasps with heavy eyes. One more second without your kiss will kill him.

“I’m not. Say it”, you whisper, feeling dizzy from denial.

“Deal”, he breathes, placing his hand on the back of your head, “now fucking come here and let me seal it.”

You let him pull you in with a moan of his name and your legs closing around his waist instantly. He growls deeply, picking up from the counter to carry you with one arm. His hand never leaves your face, except for when he feels up your torso hungrily. 

He knows the way upstairs, using his senses to walk safely while his lips are lost in you.  

He nudges the door closed with his foot and carries you to bed. He doesn’t stop kissing you as he lays you down on it, claiming the emptiness between your legs for himself. Your legs are over his thighs, his knees are digging into the mattress. Like this, he can grind his clothed cock into you. The dent in his jeans is so unbearably noticeable to your sensitive pussy.

Yoongi breaks the kiss to instead dance his lips over your jawline and neck. His hands are feeling up your legs.

“You feel so good”, you sigh, writhing under him sensually. Your hands are on his chest, trying to open his shirt. 

“I can’t get enough of you, princess”, he whispers, changing sides of your neck, “my beautiful love, fucking look at you.”

His fingers play with the hem of your panties and slip inside. Not in the front but at the side of your hips, where your skin is so sensitive. He tugs slightly.

“Don’t rip them”, you say, squirming away, “I really like them.”

He smirks against your neck. 

“Fine”, he says and without warning picks you up just enough that your butt is off the mattress and he can pull down your panties.

You laugh, writhing in his hands with your eyes glued to his face. You get so giddy whenever he shows his strength. It’s so nice to know that you are in such strong and safe hands with him. 

Yoongi chuckles, “cute.”

“It’s so hot when you lift me.”

“I know princess, I can smell it”, he says and guides your panties to his nose to take in your scent. He growls playfully, flashing his eyes ruby, “so sweet”, he lulls, letting the panties disappear in his front pocket a second later. 

“Touch me”, you choke out, feeling lightheaded. There won’t ever go a day by where this shit doesn’t ruin you. 

“Patience. I gotta savour you”, he says, placing himself over you again. He lowers himself to your collarbones, touching your sides, “I’d be a fool if I didn’t”, he adds in a whisper before he runs his lips over your skin.

The touch is electric, making you sigh. You close your eyes and fall into him. Falling is so goddamn easy when you know that it’s Yoongi’s hands which will catch you. And they will always catch you, no matter when or where, he won’t ever let you collide. 

Yoongi lifts his lips when he is between your clothed breasts. He glances up at you, finding heaven in how blissed you look. 

“You’re so beautiful”, he says honestly and lowers his lips to your soft breasts to kiss them, “so fucking beautiful.”

“There…” you sigh, arching your chest into him. 

“There?” he whispers, sucking on the spot of before. The one which made you arch so cutely and which makes you arch even cuter right now.

“Yoongi”, you squeak in a giggle, writhing between his hands.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asks in a smile, feeling up your sides. 

“It’s just…good.”

“Cute”, he says, changing the paths of his kiss to feel up your tummy instead. There is no other tummy on this earth which is as perfect as yours. Yoongi loves every single inch of it, memorising the paths of it with his eyes closed and his tongue tasting your skin hungrily. 

By the time he reaches your lower tummy, your skin isn’t the only thing wet. You already were before, but now you are soaked, filling Yoongi’s nose with the sweetest scent. 

“Your scent, holy fuck”, he murmurs into you as he buries his face in the softness of your inner thigh. 

You reach down and twist his hair, bucking your hips up. His eyes open, meeting your gaze. 

“Please”, you beg.

“Don’t rush it”, he whispers and switches legs, “relax princess, I’m getting there.”

“Oh god, I need it so bad”, you whine, tugging on his hair. 

“Mhm, me too. Need to taste you so bad”, he lulls, running his tongue down your thigh. The contact is wet and hot, leaving you to throb around nothing. 

He turns his head. 

“Ah”, you moan without needing to be touched. The aspect of it is already enough to turn you weak. 

“So fucking sweet”, he rasps, letting the words swirl over your pussy.

“Please”, you beg.

“Mhhm”, he purrs, drawing closer until you can feel his warmth radiate of his lips.

“Yoongi”, you moan, tugging on his hair.

“Cute”, he rasps, putting distance between you and your sweetest pleasure.

“No, back”, you beg, trying to push him down but he is stronger.

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he rasps, doing the unthinkable of sitting up.

Your fingers slip from his hair this way, gripping his belt loop instead.

“Please don’t”, you beg. 

“Patience. I’m just getting the toys.”

“I just wanna be touched, please”, you whine, knowing that it is fruitless to beg.

“You’re adorable”, he says as he is busy with retrieving the bag.

Waiting for him to get the toys from his suitcase and return to bed is torture. You need his touch so bad. 

Yoongi sits down next to you, opening the toy bag to look through it. Not that he has to do a lot of looking as he has all the toys sorted into their own compartments. He is organised like this. It’s so attractive that he is.

He opens the buttplug compartment and takes out the silicon toy. You eye it and gulp.

“You can stop this anytime you need to, yeah? I won’t be upset with you”, Yoongi says, who watches it happen.

“I don’t wanna stop. I’m just really excited.”

Yoongi smiles, “I’m excited too, my love”, he says shimmying down your body with the plug and lube equipped. 

You open your legs without needing to be told to, looking at him with a racing heart. 

The lube bottle opens with a click. Yoongi makes sure that he covers his fingers thoroughly.  

“Relax”, he says and connects his lubed up fingers with your hole. 

“Fuck. Yoongi”, you get out, closing your legs in reaction. They fall open again a second later, your hips squirm needily. 

“You’re so perfect, my princess”, he praises, rubbing slow circles. You whine in reaction and buck your hips up. Yoongi understands instantly. It’s time for him to take the next step. With a little bit of pressure, he lets his middle finger slip inside. 

You inhale sharply, releasing it as a shaky “oh god”, a second later. Your eyes fall closed and your nose scrunches up.

“There we go. All relaxed around me”, he praises, pumping his finger in and out slowly, “you’re doing so well.”

“It feels really good.”

“Yeah? It feels good for me too, princess. You’re so soft inside”, Yoongi says, curling his finger. 

“More?”

“Already?”

“Yeah, please. I’m horny”,  you giggled the last words, earning yourself a soft chuckle from him. 

“Gladly”, Yoongi says and pushes his ring finger inside. You tense up, whimpering softly. He places his hand on your lower tummy and rubs slow circles on it, “relax your muscles, you’re too tense.”

“Sorry, it surprised me”, you say and follow instantly, shuddering because of how good it feels to relax. His fingers are filling you out so well, giving you just enough of a stretch that you are experiencing a constant wave of warm tingles. 

“There we go, that’s so much better”, he praises and begins scissoring them carefully, “you’re doing such a good job, my lovely princess. Relax, my love, so good”, he talks you through the amazing sensation, switching his fond gaze between your wet pussy and glowing face.

“It’s so good”, you sigh, “I like it so much.”

“I love it too, princess”, he says and slips his thumb to your clit as a reward for being the most perfect.

And there you go, tensing up again. But this time for different reasons. You mewl, tilting your head back as your hips buck into his hand. All the teasing he did before left you feeling so sensitive that this simple touch is already too much.

“Relax for me, relax”, Yoongi says softly, rubbing your clit slowly. 

“It’s hard when, when you m-make me wanna cum”, you stutter, writhing on the sheets. 

“Cute”, Yoongi says, slipping his thumb from your clit even if that makes you whine for more.

“Edging noo, is…no”, you mumble, cracking him up. 

“Whiney baby”, he teases, slipping his fingers out. 

“Yoongi noo”, you whine, “I don’t have to cum, I lied.”

He laughs, “yeah sure. Relax princess, I’m getting the plug. Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you say, glancing down at it, “oh god, I’m so horny.”

“Me too, love.”

He rubs lube on it and connects it with your hole. He places his hands back on your tummy, sending you a comforting look. 

“This will stretch you more than my fingers, but I believe in you”, he says and smiles, “but you can stop whenever, don’t forget that.”

“Just push it inside, please”, you beg, opening your legs wider. 

Yoongi lets his eyes flit down to your middle. He applies pressure and after a second of struggle, the toy slips inside. 

“Oh? Oh yeah that hah”, you chuckle and drop your head in the pillow.

“Too much?”

“Don’t stop, I’m good. It’s new, but I’m good”, you say, pushing into him. The toy slips deeper into you, faltering again when you reach the thickest part.

“Just one more time”, he encourages you and pushes gently.

“Yoongi”, you get out and then you reach for his hand to hold. He intertwines his fingers with you, looking at your face with his brows furrowed in concentration. 

The plug slips inside, filling you out completely.

“Oh fuck”, you press out in a whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“It’s bigger than my fingers, isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” you get out and mewl.

“You’re doing so well taking it that easily. I can take it out if you want.”

“No just…let me get used to it.”

“Okay”, Yoongi says and places himself over you. Like this, his hands are on each side of your head dimpling the pillow and his black hair hangs into his face. “I’m so fucking proud of you, princess love.”

“Yoongi…kiss me”, you plead, feeling how deeply affected you are by his praise. You relax around the toy and your tummy tingles like crazy, “I’m, I’m serious if you don’t kiss me soon I’ll, I’ll start cry-”

Yoongi interrupts you by kissing you deeply. Your brain turns off, your body shudders in relief. You are kissing him. You are kissing your Yoongi. And it’s paradise. 

You reach for him with a whimper of his name, twisting the front of his shirt. Yoongi lowers himself to his elbows, bending his arm in a way which allows him to cradle your head and play with your hair. The kiss to your lips breaks, but he litters your face with kisses and that makes up for it. 

“Don’t cry, princess”, he whispers, “I’m right here”, he promises, nuzzling into your neck. Neck kisses feel like heaven on normal days, but he’s got you so charged that you could cry out for him right now.

“Yoongi”, you whimper, grabbing a bundle of his hair. 

“Keep me close, princess”, he sighs, kissing a path to your cheek, “you’re doing so well with everything, I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

You spill tears. They were happy tears. Yoongi doesn’t notice them, kissing a path to your lips. He claims them, swallowing the whimper you let out. His right hand smoothes over your hair while his left arm snakes under your back. With a small show of strength he lifts your upper body, pressing you against his chest. He uses enough pressure that you can feel how all those tight knots in your chest burst. You didn’t even know that you had them, but feeling his warmth on your chest in a gentle and constant pressure relieved you of stresses you had sitting deep inside you.  

“I love you”, you press out because this is all you get out. Yoongi smiles against your lips, kissing his way back to your neck.

“I love you too, princess.”

He lowers you back to the sheets and slips his left hand to your side instead. 

“I love you so much”, you press out and sob softly.

“I love you so much too, princess”, Yoongi says, kissing his way down to your tummy. 

You don’t like that he stops cradling you like this, but you can’t even complain because he is worshipping your tummy. His big hands are gliding over your waist, holding you safely, while his tongue and lips take the paths they already took before. But unlike before, it makes you twist the fucking pillow in desperation. 

“I’m gonna go insane, princess”, Yoongi lulls, “you smell so fucking sweet. You know that?”

“Please don’t pull away again”, you beg, writhing in his strong hands. He is mere inches away from your pussy, “if, if you pull away I-I’ll cry.”

He chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says, “relax, my princess. I won’t pull away”, he whispers and buries his tongue between your folds. 

“Oh my god! Yoongi!” you squeak put, closing your legs around his head and grabbing his hair with both hands. 

Yoongi purrs, pushing your legs apart gently. He keeps his hands on your shaking thighs to rub them, purring around your clit as he sucks on her slowly.

“Yoongi!” you mewl, digging your head into the pillow as you arch your back. Your legs slip over his shoulders and kick his lower back. 

“Mhm”, he grunts, punishing you by burying himself deeper. 

“Yoongi please, holy fuck”, you sob, tugging at his hair to both push him closer and pull him away. You have no idea what you need more. A break or for him to never ever stop. And he barely even does anything. He merely purrs and sucks on your clit, includes the occasional lick and squeezes your thighs. Yoongi could eat your pussy differently. Trust, that he could be very different right now and yet this mere appetiser of what he could do is already enough to make you act like a pleasure dumb idiot. 

“Yoongi”, another mewl of his name comes easy to you. 

Yoongi answers you by breaking away from you and forcing that addictive fire in your pussy to die down again.

“Why?” you croak and sob, “Yoongi why?”

“You’re so cute, holy fuck I gotta fucking put you in my pocket, you cutest princess”, he babbles as he kisses a path down to your plugged hole. 

He wraps his fingers around the base of the toy and with a kiss to your buttocks pulls it out of you. It feels warm and makes you moan. The girthiest part doesn’t hurt at all and the sensation of your hole closing up in sync with the toy getting thinner is unfamiliar but fucking addicting. 

Yoongi wastes no unnecessary time. He is a smitten man on a mission. A mission to make his dream girl scream on his tongue. He dismisses the toy and grabs your hips. With just a little bit of his strength, he picks them up and tilts them so he can bury himself between your legs. 

Your hole is still relaxed enough that he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He lets it grow until it’s a little longer than the plug was and it fills you out so well that he can feel your muscles trying to fight him.

“Yoongi”, his name slips off your tongue again and Yoongi feels your walls pulsate around his tongue. Your taste is richer than that of your pussy. Yoongi has to hump the mattress because of it, growling into you as he fucks you with his tongue.

“Oh god, holy fuck”, you moan, panting like crazy.

This feels as if you are getting the wettest and hottest toy stuck into you. You thought that getting your pussy fucked with it feels intense, but this is on a whole other level. You are so stretched out like this. Even more than you were when he plugged you. It doesn’t hurt at all. The kisses and touches and sweet licks made you so incredibly relaxed for him, his praises did the rest. So having his big, long tongue fuck your hole doesn’t hurt and yet it still feels as if you can’t do it. You shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be allowed to feel so goddamn good. Your legs shake and try to close on him, but Yoongi shakes you off, burying himself deeper until the tip of his nose is buried in your pussy.

“Fucknmgn”, the curse is muffled by your body, but it still reaches your ears. Your scent is quite literally suffocating him and Yoongi lets you know just what this does to him by wiggling his tongue quickly and using his neck muscles to grind his nose all over your pussy.

“Why are you doing this?” you keen, throwing your arm over your eyes, “please stop, Yoongi. Please stop, please.”

“Hey”, he is off of you instantly, “hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Please don’t do this, please just fuck me”, you beg, spilling tears, “I can’t take this anymore. Please just fuck me, please.”

Yoongi relaxes, slipping your legs from his shoulders to caress them instead.

“Don’t talk like this princess, I was so scared that I hurt you”, he whines, nudging you.

“It’s so good, I can’t breathe”, you whimper, sending him a blurry look, “I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

“Never”, he says, leaning down to kiss your tummy, “fuck, I just really fucked it for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Now I know how you taste in both holes”, he chuckles deeply, “fuck baby, don’t expect me to be normal from now on. I’m gonna fucking live between your legs from now on.”

You mewl, “please fuck me. Please!”

“Are you sure?” he asks as he nibbles on your inner thigh. He is so close to your pussy that he brushes against you every now and then, “can’t I taste you more? Please?”

“I, I’ll cum if you do”, you stutter.

“Mhm, you’re torturing me”, he rasps and bites you just hard enough that you squeak.

“Please”, you giggle, twisting his hair.

He chuckles, kissing the sensitive spot, “fine, I’ll get ready.”

“Please.”

Yoongi breaks away from you to undress. Finally his tight jeans stop squishing his swollen cock. Yoongi throws them on the ground angrily. They were so painful to be stuck in. He steps out of his briefs and slips his shirt off. Then he runs his hands through his long hair. It falls prettily, framing his features.  

“Jeans are products of demons, no fucking joke”, he says, climbing back on bed, “I think I bruised my cock.”

You snicker, “oh no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, just glad to be with you again”, he assures you, connecting himself with you by caressing your hip, “let me fix you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Yoongi lifts you and places you onto the mattress with you resting on your side. He pushes the leg, which rests on top, up the mattress, making sure that it’s bent by the knee. He runs his hand along your stockings and then up to your ass at the back of your leg.

“There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?” he speaks softly.

“Yeah…” you croak, twisting the sheets. You need him so bad that it hurts. 

“Tell me when you need a pillow”, he says and breaks the touch for the sake of getting his cock ready. 

“I’m comfy”, you say. 

“That’s good. Fuck ___, I’m so fucking hard you have no idea”, he lulls his words and a wet squelching sound fills the air. He is definitely jerking himself off with the lube. The thought makes you leak.  

“You won’t grow, will you? I don’t think that I can handle this yet”, you ask shyly.

“No princess, I won’t grow. Don’t be scared”, he assures you.  

“Okay, thank you for telling me that”, you say and turn your head. He is close enough that you can reach behind yourself and touch his hip, “please don’t hold back anymore.”

He smiles and lets you tug him closer, placing his hand on your hip. 

“I love it when you’re acting this way”, he says, holding his cock by its base so he can guide it to your hole. He pushes at your hip, fixing your position gently. Like this, you are exposed to him. Yoongi stares at it with ruby eyes, rubbing his wet cockhead against your hole. 

“So pretty”, he lulls, licking his lips, “can’t believe I had my tongue in there. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

“Please”, you beg, arching into him. 

“Ready?” 

“Yes. Please.”

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect", Yoongi says and pushes into you. 

The breach doesn’t hurt, but it’s unfamiliar. His cock is definitely bigger than any of the other amazing things you took up your ass tonight. His fingers were nice, the plug intense and his tongue maddening, but his cock is filling. The word isn’t the sexiest, but it’s the truth. You feel so whole now that he is slipping inside. Like a part missing has finally returned to you. You whimper and tense up, reaching for his hand instinctively.

“Hurts?” he asks.

You shake your head, giving him a pleading look to please keep going.

Yoongi smiles and squeezes your hand. His eyes flit back to where he disappears. 

“Relax. I’ve got you”, he says and pushes deeper. His tummy tenses, and his brows furrow, “fuck. Relax my love, yeah? Relax”, his voice is shaking just a little.

“Yoongi, I’m so stuffed”, you mewl, looking at him with teary eyes. You are so glad that Yoongi filled you with his tongue before he did it with his cock. You don’t think that you could have handled how it is to truly feel him if it wasn’t for his tongue giving you the most intense sneak peek of it.

“Breathe for me, love. B-breathe oh fuck”, he falls to his hands, letting out a shaky moan. His hair falls into his face, “breathe. You gotta, gotta b-breathe.”

You can’t stop staring. His brows are furrowed, his lips curled back as he shows his fangs in a grunt. Being filled up by him starts to feel a million times better instantly. Which means a lot, because it already felt like heaven before that. 

“Breathe baby, fucking breathe”, he gets out and moans, filling you with his last inch. “Mhngn”, he lets out, scrunching his nose up, “breathe”, he squeaks.

“Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Mhm yeah, I’m fine. You just have the tightest ass ever, I’m fine”, he says in a pitched voice, making you laugh.

“Oh god, this is so funny”, you say.

“Don’t laugh, holy fuck”, he croaks and moans, grabbing your hand just to slam it into the sheets and pin it down. He rolls his hips into you in an involuntary thrust, his throat produces a little whimper.

“I can’t help it. I’m taking your cock, I’m happy”, you say between giggles. 

“Fucking fuck, you’re gonna fucking kill me”, he presses out under his breath and somehow forces his eyes to open. He turns his head, looking down at you, “you’re such a fucking goddess. Holy fuck.”

You squirm, clenching around him. You try to reach for his face, but can’t as he pins you down. So you end up holding his wrist with your other hand, mewling his name as you tense around him again.

“Wanna move”, he lulls.

“Please move.”

Yoongi pulls out halfway so he can roll into you smoothly. The sensation feels electric, forcing an honest and loud moan out of you. 

“Yes princess, keep moaning for me. I fucking love it when you do”, he encourages you, ending it with a small whimper again, “I’m gonna fucking cry. You’re so tight, holy fuck”, he whispers under his breath, chasing you in deep rolls of his hips. 

In and out, in and out. Feeling each of those movements so quickly after the other is a whole other experience. When he played with your hole or stuffed it, you didn’t have this constant change. But now you do and it’s making you gasp for air. 

“That’s it, princess. Keep breathing”, his voice is hoarse from exhaustion, “I’m gonna have to fucking nut soon, but don’t mind me.”

“God, don’t tell me that, you’re making me laugh again”, you say, having to crack up.

“Yeah fuck, it’s happening”, he says and groans, letting his mouth fall open. His hand squeezes yours as his cock throbs deep inside you, “you’re so fucking mean”, he whines, shaking atop of you. 

“Yoongi”, you gasp and moan, “Yoongi, holy fuck. Are you actually?”

“Yeah…baby”, he purrs. 

It sticks to your insides warm and wet. He is actually cumming right now. Two minutes and he is a goner. The thought that it is your ass which broke him so soon, makes you dizzy. You chase him with rolls of your hips, tensing up at the feeling. You’re so tight and now you're spreading his cum all over his cock, getting messy in the process. He slips in and out of you so much better, filling your veins with ecstatic pleasure.

“Yeah, yah, mhm”, he lets out, lowering his head to kiss your cheek, “fuck”, he chuckles, “sorry for that, I’d have died if I didn’t let go.”

“It’s fine. Just…I want more.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good now. Fuck princess”, he straightens up, grabbing your leg to bend it and open you up for him, “imma fuck that bred, little hole until you’re screaming”, he rasps, finally moving his hips. He starts off in a slow, yet deep rhythm, spreading you open for him with a strong hand pushing down on your hip and therefore keeping it tilted just for him. It gives your muscles a gentle stretch and opens you up so well for him that you can feel how you move around him.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, tilting your head back as your mouth falls open. 

“Does it hurt? I can slow down”, he speaks with a deep rasp on his voice. You know that overstimulation is keeping his cock sensitive, but because you’re dating a literal maniac he uses the pain as motivation to get you off. 

“Don’t slow, please faster”, you beg.

He speeds up, putting a smooth roll of his hips into the movements. His fingers dimple your flesh, his naked thighs collide with the back of your legs and his cock shapes your creamed hole. Like this, his hair slaps into his face each time he moves, forcing him to keep his eyes closed in order not to the get it all in them. He grunts each time he bottoms out, giving you glimpses of his fangs whenever he pulls his lips back.

“More, I need more”, you beg.

“Yeah? Reach into the bag, there’s a vibe in there.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You know exactly where to look. You used the toy on too many occasions to count. With trembling fingers you turn it on and press it to your clit. 

“Yoongi”, you mewl, writhing under him.

“That’s it, princess. Make yourself feel good. Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect”, he praises, using the grip he has on your thigh to pull you onto his cock. He meets his own movements in the middle, rolling his hips into you. 

“It’s a lot”, you mewl. 

“Yeah? I’ll slow down”, he assures you, but you start rutting back into him instantly, “fuck princess”, he is laughing lazily, “stop whining ‘bout it bein’ too much when you don’ mean it”, he lulls, connecting his hand with your buttock in a gentle spank, “so fuckin’ naughty.”

“More”, you beg, “you’re making me cum. More.”

Yoongi spanks you gently, gripping the flesh afterwards to part you and stuff you with his cock. His creamy cum is leaking out of you and covering his cock. The quick movements of his hips turned it all white and milky by now. Yoongi fucks it right back into you, covering your stretched rim with it and parts of his dark pubes. The view motivates him to fuck you deeper, harder, better.

“You’re so fucking perfect being all bred by me. My own perfect cum goddess”, he pants, slamming into you so hard that his balls slap your ass.

You mewl for more, clenching around him. And so Yoongi gives it to you. He spanks your ass, holding you open afterwards to watch his cock disappear inside your tight hole. 

“Now”, you croak and yelp up. 

“Yes fuck”, Yoongi growls, burying himself to the hilt and staying right there so he can feel you pulsate and throb, “you’re so fucking perfect, shit princess so perfect.”

“It feels so good”, you mewl, shaking like crazy as your body fills with warmth, “Yoongi, it feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know. Keep it right there, you’re not done yet”, he says and begins moving again. Slowly at first because he is aware that you never experienced cock up your ass so soon after your high. You are tight. So goddamn tight that if Yoongi hadn’t climaxed already, he would have done so right now. He grinds his teeth and growls deeply, dimpling your flesh from gripping you so tightly, “keep breathin’ baby, I’m not done. You gotta get fucked more, my perfect woman.”

“Yoongi”, his name leaves you like a prayer. You push back into him, thanking yourself for doing so as Yoongi uses the opportunity to tug you into another position. Resting on your tummy and with your hips held up by him. You use zero strength, shaking in his hands as Yoongi keeps pulling you onto his creamed cock. 

“Such a pretty princess, you’re made for my cock. It’s fucking insane how good you feel”, he praises and moans in a deep growl. His hips are angled differently this way. 

“What are you doing?” you mewl, kicking the sheets. You try to writhe away from him for the sole reason of being scared of how hard you are falling. You can feel his cock hit your g-spot this way. You know that he is still in your ass, as you feel stuffed to the brim, but he is still hitting your g-spot. He shouldn’t be able to do this to you and yet he is. You can’t handle it, it’s too good. You can’t handle it. “What are you doing?” you sob, barely holding onto the vibrator by now.

“Keep the vibe there, princess”, Yoongi orders you, eyes glued to your ass. He can’t believe how beautiful you look when he fucks you. 

“What are you doing? Yoongi please”, your voice is pitched in pleasure, your legs are shaking like crazy.

“You know what I’m doing. I’m giving it to you how you fucking deserve it. Feel how I give it to you?” he says, slamming his hips into you. Your ass is filled to the brim and your g-spot gets hit. 

You moan his name, arching into him. This is going to break you into a million pieces. 

“Yeah you do. You’re such a perfect, fucking woman, you deserve everything. Fucking everything. Fuck”, he growls the last word, throwing his head back as his body falls into the sensations. His hair tickles his shoulders this way, reflecting the deep shine of your bedside lamp. His lips part, glistening in the lights and looking especially pink.

Not that you can see any of this as you are falling right with him with your face buried in the pillow, moaning like crazy as he scrambles your insides in the best way possible. Night has been kissing the earth for way too many minutes to count and yet you haven’t noticed yet. He makes you see the brightest colours behind your closed lids. A warm summer rain has started to fall on the earth and even that you didn’t notice as all you can hear are Yoongi’s ecstatic grunts and your bodies connecting in sinful movements. Also the hum of the vibrator and it’s fucking taunting it. Your clit is going to burst if you keep pressing it on there and yet you don’t want to take it away. You rub a small circle, regretting instantly as you feel how this forces your body to fall even harder.

“You’re making me cum”, you mewl with your pussy throbbing around nothing and his cock drilling your ass so good it feels like he is rewriting your definition of pleasure.

“Don’t hold back, love. Fall into it, I’m right here. Fade into me, baby”, he encourages you, fucking his cock into you as deep as possible and hitting your g-spot exactly where you are the most sensitive.

“Yoongi!” you yelp, breaking around him. 

“Yes princess, that’s what I want from you”, Yoongi growls, picking you up even if you are shaking like crazy. He sits back onto his heels and bounces you on his lap. You are kneeling, barely holding your head up straight, “you perfect fucking goddess, cum for me”, he spits and presses his hand into your tummy with just enough pressure that you can physically feel how he is squeezing your g-spot against his cock. 

It feels like there is no barrier between him and your favourite spot. You scream up, dropping the vibrator. At least you try to as before it slips out of your fingers, Yoongi takes your hand and presses it back against your clit. He hugs your waist this way, slamming his hips into you so harshly the room fills with loud sounds of skin slapping against skin and the bedposts croaking for help.

“Don’t stop”, he growls, “you perfect woman are gonna keep that pressed there until you’re wetting my fucking thighs.”

“Yoongi, I can’t”, you sob, reaching behind yourself just so you can grip him. You manage to grab a bundle of his hair, twisting it painfully.

Yoongi moans against your neck, squeezing you closer by your tummy. The pressure in it grows, now it actually feels as if he was fucking you without any barriers. But you know that he is. You know because your stretched hole has been convulsing around his cock ever since he started drilling you this way. 

And you can’t take it anymore. The vibrator on your clit hurts so much, the pressure in your tummy is too much and his cock is ruining your ass. And there is this addictive feeling of having his naked, sweaty and hot body pressed against yours.

You break apart, screaming his name as you almost rip out his hair. And Yoongi growls like a fucking animal, fucking and squeezing and holding you hostage until you finally act how he wants you to act and you wet his thighs in harsh, strong spurts of warm pleasure. 

“Yes princess. Fuck, ___”, he moans and fills you with his cum. You smell so good and feel so tight around him, Yoongi just has to make sure that the last thing your hot walls feel is his creamy cum marking you as his’. They should remember who can stretch and fuck and drill them so good. Moaning and panting like crazy, he fucks you both through your highs, milking your bodies dry until they can’t give any more.

“No more, please. Actually stop”, you beg once the fire of pleasure turned into the painful burn of overstimulation and his cock feels painfully big in your tight ass.

“You’re already done”, Yoongi speaks gently, turning off the vibrator and throwing it to the side, “take a deep breath, I’m lifting you.”

You follow, releasing it in a loud gasp as he slides you off of him. His cum squirts out of you instantly, ruining even more of his lap. 

“Sorry, oh god”, you whimper, trying to clench.

“It’s okay, let it happen”, he soothes you, “you did so well, my love. Don’t worry about the mess, just relax”, he says and places you in the sheets as gently as possible. 

He drapes his arm over you, resting on his hand so he can nuzzle into the side of your face and kiss you.

“I’m so proud of you, you did amazing”, he praises.

“I’m, I’m”, you stutter, shivering like crazy. 

Yoongi presses himself closer, warming you with the naked skin on skin contact. 

“I’ll get something to clean you and then you can already slip under the sheets, yeah?”

You nod your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. He dries your cheeks, holding your face safely.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks. 

“No”, your voice is hoarse, “Yoongi?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I felt you against my g-spot.”

He smiles, “I know. Did you like it?”

“Yes”, you whisper and giggle. 

“I loved it too, my princess”, he says and kisses your forehead, “you did fucking amazing for your first time. You took me so, so well.”

“It was the best first time ever”, you say, wiggling happily, “you’re the best person ever, Yoongi Boongie.”

“Mhm”, he pecks your cheek, “no, you are. Now excuse me for a moment, I’ll clean us up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, my love.”

“I’m so happy with you.”

Yoongi feels his tummy flutter, “I’m so fucking happy too, you have no idea.”

He cleans your bodies, brings you water and changes the sheets. He talks about the experience with you in great detail as he does all those things, listening to your words with great interest and speaking his own with a warm sparkle in his eyes. You both come to the same conclusion that you really needed to do it again in the near future. Afterwards, he tucks you into bed and plays with your hair because you asked him if he could. And you feel so well taken care of that you could burst into the most colourful of fireworks.

The rain is loud on the roof above your heads, filling the room with a constant pitter patter. His face is mere inches away from yours as you share a pillow. Your heads are almost hidden under the blanket, looking out just enough that you can still breathe. He is still caressing your face and head. You are this close to falling asleep, but don’t want to close your eyes. You don’t want to miss out on his face. His hair is all messy, but in a pretty, breathtaking kind of way and his features are looking so pretty in the dim lights. He is truly the most beautiful person ever and your heart races like crazy when you think about the fact that he is yours.

“Should we buy a house here?” he breaks the comfortable silence in a soft spoken voice.

“What do you mean?” you answer him with your voice lowered as well.

“We could buy a house here. With a view of the ocean and a sun flooded kitchen overseeing the garden”, he says, “let’s buy one that needs renovating, so we can do it together. I have ideas for the living room. I’m thinking conversation pit with a huge sofa to cuddle on. Maybe mould it outta clay, paint it blue, but you’re better with colours so I need your advice on that. And I want a bathtub in the bathroom, a big one so we both fit.”

“You wanna buy a house with me?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“I’d buy a castle with you, but we already have one”, he says, making you giggle and sniffle at the same time. He chuckles, booping your nose with his pointer finger. 

“Yoongs, I don’t know what to say”, you get out, blinking rapidly.

“Yes, maybe?”

“You know my answer already, my beloved.”

“Please say it, it’ll feel so good.”

You smile, spilling tears, “yes Yoongs, let’s buy a fucking house here and get a goddamn conversation pit in the living room and a huge bathtub in the bathroom and, and let’s plant food in the garden and goddamn build a path to the beach. Goddamn it.”

Yoongi smiles, tearing up without ever spilling them.

“My love”, he whispers, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over your skin, “you’re my fucking everything.”

“You’re my fucking everything too, my love”, you say, closing the distance between you and him to kiss him. 

Yoongi wraps his arms around and rolls you to your back, getting lost in the kiss with you as happy giggles rumble in his chest.  

Days here at the coast are good. Great. Perfect. The days here are perfect.

[unknowntoyou2205]

Diamonds sister pt 2

Y/n groaned as she heard her bedroom door open. After last nights events y/n had spent half the night tossing and turning, unable to get a certain blonde gentleman out of her head. Her mum and sister had thrown questions at her on the ride home and the excitement between them hadn’t gone unnoticed. The excitement the young girl herself felt was also apparent, but y/n refused to show it in fear that it may be thrown back at her.

“Good morning Miss, are you ready to get ready for the day?” Her handmaid smiled.

“Yes I am. Is everyone ready for our visitors today?”

“Yes the chef has prepared sweet treats and tea for this afternoon. They shall not be disappointed.”

“Good.” Y/n smiled, optimistic about today’s agenda.

Y/n opted for y/f/c dress with detail on the shoulder before heading down the stairs to the drawing room where her mother and sister were already sitting, working on their embroidery. Y/n never cared for embroidery, so instead opted to take out her drawing pad, deciding to draw the garden view as she waited for todays visitors. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and Anthony and Benedict arrived in the room.

“Your up early.” Violet stated to her sons with slight dismay.

“Are we the first ones here, how lovely.” Anthony stated, grabbing a biscuit before sitting beside Daphne.

“Perhaps you should make use of your time elsewhere.” Their mother stated.

“I believe y/n would like me to stay, right y/n.” Benedict stated, thinking their usual antics would start.

Y/n went to reply when the door opened once again, and y/ns handmaid opened the door. Violet stood up in anticipation when a figure came close behind her.

Violet watched in awe as her daughter allowed the prince to guide her to a seat away from prying ears. Daphne couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, despite wanting to advance on the prince herself. Y/n only turned back briefly to smile at them before turning her attention to the prince as he accepted the lemonade from the handmaid and offered one to her. She nodded her head in thanks before taking a delicate sip.

“A visitor for Miss Bridgerton.” The woman spoke out and the figure stepped into the room.

“Price Fredrich, good afternoon.” Violet nodded, indicating for her children to stand up to greet him.

“Your highness.” Daphne stated as she curtsied and bowed her head.

“Good afternoon Lady Bridgerton, I have come to call on one of your daughters.”

“And which one may that be.” Anthony called from his position.

“Miss y/n.” The royal stated, looking at the second oldest daughter of the family.

“I believe you should like to go Benedict.” Y/n muttered to her brother.

“I believe I should most certainly like to stay,” Benedict replied quickly, not taking his eyes off the prince in front of them.

“Now Benedict.” Y/n stated to him before stepping towards the prince with her mother.

“Can I offer you some light refreshment?” Violet asked their visitor as Benedict left the room.

“I would love some. Perhaps some lemonade, and for miss Bridgerton?” Fredrich looked at y/n, expecting an answer.

“The same please.” Y/n spoke with a smile, before accepting the princes outstretched hand.

The two sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company under the watchful gaze of her family. A smile remained on each of their faces before the door opened once again and miss came through.

“So, what do you like to do, tell me more about you?” Fredrich smiled, leaning closer to the girl in front of him to listen.

“Well, I like to draw, I find you can capture anything with a pencil and page. I suppose that’s not a typical hobby of a woman but I find it so refreshing that I could just draw for hours, often with my dear brother Benedict.” Y/n stated, smiling fondly.

“I admire that. Would you be close with your siblings?” Frendrich asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yes I like to think that we are. I enjoy being with my youngest two, Hyacinth and Gregory, there so sweet. Do you have any siblings yourself?” Y/n asked, intrigued to learn more about her suitor.

“Unfortunately I am an only child, but I hope to have my own family someday, possibly many. Do you want children some day?” The blonde man asked the woman in front of him, not missing how her smile disappeared to sadness.

“I would love to have my own but the thoughts of having them terrify me after what my dear Mama went through with Hyacinth.” Y/n spoke sadly, remembering the screams of her mother and how she family nearly became orphans.

“I am sorry I asked.” Prince Frendrich stated, placing a hand on y/n’s in comfort.

“It’s ok. Maybe with the right guy I will have my dream, and my fear may be placed at ease.” Y/n stated, her mouth twitching with a smile.

“Perhaps, I may be that guy.” The prince dared to say, moving a hand under y/n’s chin to move her head up.

“Perhaps.” Y/n spoke, smiling at the thought.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Another visitor, for Miss Bridgerton.” This time she looked at Daphne and y/n sighed, knowing the time with the prince had come to an end.

“Perhaps we shall pomegrade tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich offered, wanting to spend more time with the Bridgerton in front of her.

“I would like that.” Y/n announced, nodding her head in agreement.

“Until tomorrow.” Prince Fredrich took y/n’s hand and brought it up, kissing it delicately.

“Until tomorrow.” y/n smiled shyly, watching as the prince moved to say his goodbyes to her mother and brother.

The following days followed with y/n and Fredrich spending many hours together. Benedict had taken it upon himself  to escort his sister to these meetings, despite his sisters disagreement, and the prince was starting to grow on him. Seeing how his sister smiled around thig guy made Benedict realize that maybe his sister meeting with this guy wasn’t a bad idea. The relationship between brother and sister were remarkable, but Benedict would be willing to leave the prince be if it made y/n happy. And it would appear that he made y/n very happy.

Y/n had found herself falling for the royal she had been spending so much time with these past few weeks. Each ball lead to a new dance, and each day lead to a new Pomerado around, getting to know each other more and more. The more time spent with the prince, the more y/n thought that maybe he could be the one. Maybe he was the one she would marry and make her feel safe and secure with herself, much like her father had been for her mother. And the prince, well, he was seeing the Bridgerton girl in a new light.

Today was no different. Y/n had arrived back from a boat ride with the prince ,and was now in a carriage towards the ball of the night, one that was being held by the her sister. Since Daphnes marriage things had been a spiral of emotions for the Bridgerton family, yet the giddiness that y/n felt for tonight was something that did not go unnoticed. Violet watched her daughter with happiness as she glowed. With Daphne now engaged to the duke, Violet hoped that maybe there would be another love story for the Bridgerton family.

The carriage came to a stop and y/n allowed her mother to get out before she herself stood up and exited the carriage. Looking at the entrance in awe, she couldn’t help but smile as she seen the familiar blonde hair standing with the Queen at the back of the hall. Smiles were exchanged as the prince caught sight of the Bridgerton clan walking into the ball, and took no time to start making her way down to them. Ignoring the mothers and daughters who swarmed him, he made his way over to y/n and nodded his head in greeting as the mother daughter duo turned to face him.

Y/n smiled at the Prince as they prepared to dance. Allowing the royal to lead her around the floor, y/n couldn’t help the slight giggle that came out of her mouth. Her giggle made the prince in turn smile as he twirled his dance partner around.

“Good evening ladies, I hope you are well.” He spoke to the two.

“Good evening your highness. We are very well.” Violet spoke for the two of them as they curtsied to him.

“Would it be too much to ask for a dance with your lovely daughter.” He asked, offering his hand out out to y/n.

“Please enjoy.” Violet confirmed, watching with pride as the prince kissed her daughters hand before leading her to the floor.

“Perhaps there may be another Bridgerton wedding in the horising.” Simon spoke beside his mother in law.

“One can only hope.” Violet stated, hoping the best would come for her daughter.

The prince stepped away from her and fiddled with his pocket before bringing out a small velvet box. Y/n watched in shock as the attention of others became apparent. Violet grabbed bEnedicts arm as she watched with hope.

“I hope you are enjoying your night.” Prince Fredrich stated as they danced around the room. Her back to his chest.

“Very much.” Y/n nodded.

“Y/n, I hope I am not overstepping when I say but, I enjoy our time together.”

“I enjoy our time together too.” Y/n smiled.

“And I hope you wouldn’t be opposed to spending more time together.” The prince asked, twirling her around once more.

“I was hoping we would.” Y/n smiled, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Perhaps you would do me the honour of spending the rest of our time on this earth together.” The prince asked, causing y/n to look at him in shock.

“Your highness, what are you saying.” Y/n asked, turning to him as the music stopped.

Unable to hold her excitement, Violet rushed towards her daughter and pulled her into a hug.

“Y/n Bridgerton, would you do me the honour of becoming my princess, my wife.” Fredrich asked, opening the box to show a ring held delicately with a small coushin.

“I would love to.” Y/n spoke happily, allowing him to pull her in a hug.

----------------------------------------------------

“You are to be married dearest.” Violet stated, and y/n smiled excitedly.

“I got it mama, I got my dream.”

“We better watch out with royalty in our house.” Benedict teased causing y/n to chock in tears.

The wedding was everything y/n could of ever dreamed off. Prince Fredrich wanted the day to be everything his bride had ever imagined, and went above and beyond to make sure her dreams became a reality. It was fit for a princess, which was what Miss y/n Bridgerton would now be called. Violet was beaming for joy as she watched her second daughter walk down the aisle with her second oldest. Benedict couldn’t help the smile on his face as he walked his sister to her new family, having cried after y/n had asked him to step in what should have been their fathers job. Daphne held her husbands arm in delight watching her twin get married. The Queen herself couldn’t help but show a slight smile, even if only for a brief second.

The night itself was magical and fit for royalty. Y/n danced with her husband under the night stars, outside in the Queens garden. United as one, y/n couldn’t wait to live her newfound life. Princess y/n of Prussia, dawning a ring that belonged to her majesty the Queen on her finger, vowed to spend entirely with her new love, the prince of Prussia.

[gleefullypolin]

Initial thoughts on first watch through of Part 2

I will need to watch the season again a few more times as I was overwhelmed to be sure as a lot was going on. But my quick thoughts on storylines...

I'll start with my least favorite part. Sorry but it's the elephant in the room.

Ben.

I cannot. Every time they wasted screentime to go back to him fucking, I was like. God no, please make it stop. I mean I got it the first three times we showed it. Was it really necessary to keep harping on it. Honestly, shit or get off the pot with Ben's story. I'm bored and I don't know where they are going with this. I'm disinterested now.

Fran/John

This got better for me in the back half than the first half. I took no interest in them in the first 4 episodes. it was a snooze fest and while I would not watch a full season of them, they were cute in the back half and while the "dying breath" line was a bit harsh (seriously writers was that necessary) I'm even less interested in exploring a full season of Fran's actual story, not because it's been gender bended to Michaela, I just don't care for Fran's character. Personal opinion, sorry.

Kate/Anthony

Loved competitive Anthony at game night, we are the same Anthony, truly first borns. Kate has relaxed him for sure tho. Loved how he seemed to truly support his siblings, first with Colin and again with Fran in their choices to marry. Wished we could have seen his face when Pen announced she was LW after he was so clear that there was no way anyone could be her under his nose as RULER over the Bridgerton lands or some shit. Would have been a delight to see, yet...he did once again run off and leave his duty as leader of the Bridgerton family once again. For all this fandom screams that Anthony is the only man of the house with the actual job and responsibility he has yet once again disappeared from it yet again. No matter, there was little of this duo for me to take true aim at this season and thus not much for me to say other than what I have.

So moving on....

Cressida

What is there to say...Who's afraid of the big bad BITCH. Well not Pen. And no one else, for off to the country she goes and good on ya! Sorry, don't let the door hit ya on the way out. I'm not sad to see you and your big ass sleeves go.

Violet/Marcus

Tend that garden girl. TEND THAT GARDEN! That's all I gotta say, S4 is gonna bring Mama Bridgerton her just desserts! It was lovely seeing her navigating the dating mart and being nervous herself. I can't wait to see her needing to lean on Lady D and her children as she tries to figure this out herself next season.

Eloise

I was up, I was down. I was on the floor in anger and tears and then crying with joy. I understood you, I swore at you, I still love you dearly. There is much for you to learn about love and the world and I will welcome you home to do that. I did feel like she grew a lot this season. She was confused by love. Love of Pen, Love of Colin, love of being a woman in society and finding her way in what all of that means again. It was nice to see that. I loved her scenes with Colin and Pen and even with Benedict. I do look forward to her season as I feel like she had the most growth this season and while I feel like Ben's is next (boo) she can't be far behind, though I would welcome them doing her and Ben together in 4 at this point since it takes so fucking long to film these.

The Featheringtons

The most growth came from the family. Portia, Pru, and Phillipa had a lot of growth. Between mama being put in her place, then having to face how she has treated her daughter, how she sees her daughter, and then realizing how her daughter is stronger than she realized was quite the journey. And then beyond that seeing the jealousy the sisters had for Pen all along, the way it burned in them because some part of them always felt that their mama loved her most, favored her most even with her treatment. That all the girls really wanted was love of their mama. Seeing that family all together at the end, not jealous of who had the heir, just happy, with their families was beautiful.

Colin

Oh dear sensitive Colin Bridgerton. You really are a soft angel boy. He was so in love, so smitten and we needed that for him to understand how he felt up front but the moment he found out about Pen, you could feel the heart break, the confusion, the anger, the loss. And it didn't just magically heal. He loved Pen, he knew that but the burn inside to reconcile that he couldnt tear LW from her, couldn't rip it from her soul was literally a dark cloud over him for the back half. I took no issue with his words in anger, the were to be expected. He no more meant them or believed them than the stupid ass words people say in anger or stating he would never court her. They were simply words.

His mother was right. He is sensitive. Sleeping on the couch, pouting everywhere. He could not reconcile his thoughts. Could not get her to give up LW for anything and his brain could not comprehend. It was only when he went back to her letters that he realized Pen was not LW, LW was Pen. He loved ONE woman and they were the same woman. He also needed to stop taking control and stop trying to save the day. Pen was a capable woman and he needed to stop trying to control her.

I think the greatest thing about Colin as a character is that he is a sensitive person who loves wholly. He is able to put away the notion of the MAN needing to be the one who runs things. He lets her be a partner with him, in sex, in life, in their roles. This is shown not just in the fact he lets her take on how to fix the LW situation in the end, but also having her on top in the bedroom in their final sex scene. She's a participant in their marriage, not a submissive wife. This is refreshing in this world and I'm happy to see it in Colin.

Penelope

What a ride for Pen she had. She was faced with giving up her dreams to let Colin thrive in his. And she was willing to do so, lets just preface they gave us that scene where she put away LW for us to transition to Colin finally losing his writers block and happily writing away. She gave it up only to be faced with a challenge and needing to take up the quill again. Pen needed to save the Bridgertons and did so later on but she was willing to give everything up for Colin.

I loved her convos with Gen and how it was another woman who allowed her to see that women did not need to give up their worth for men. AMEN! No one said, Colin needed to give up his dreams but Pen absolutely was able to have hers too. I loved this and then to see her stand up to Colin in their second fight, to let her voice be heard to him and not let him talk over her was also important.

The fact that Pen stood up for herself, diverging from the books where Colin does this for her in the books, having Pen stand up for herself thus saving herself and outing herself to the ton, I liked this. Pen was able to put LW away and use her OWN voice to the ton and explain to everywhere why she created this entire empire. I thought this was beautifully done and then having her let Colin out of the marriage afterwards so that she basically put them now on a level playing field was perfect. His speech at that point should be put in a museum because it leveled me. I think this put them finally into the right place for their marriage and lets them begin as equals. They both have a career, they both have a purpose, they have each other and they do things together. She's not out there alone anymore.

What a fucking journey. God I love this show.

So yeah, I know I'm seeing people upset, they didn't get the spoilers they wanted, didn't get some pieces they built up and you are allowed to feel that way. I think my only gripe I have is that our sex montage was cut from the show and instead we got too much Ben and his tiresome threesome that went no where. So that is my only gripe. Give me that deleted scene and I'll be happy forever. Otherwise....

Polin is life! I loved everything they gave us and I have no complaints.

A+++ They have a happy fan from me.

[asnowdriftsomewhere]

Daylight pt 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Cassian x f!reader

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was working on other writing projects, and this was put to the back burner, but i hope you still enjoy it!

Also, if you like this, i am writing an OC/Helion/Azriel story over on Ao3 called A Court of Myth and Rain :) Go check it out!

Summary: The fall out from dinner

Warning: talk of illness and death

Word count: 1336

“What the hell was that?” Cassian hissed at Mor while she pretended not to see him and continued idly drinking from her glass of wine; as if she hadn't just pulled a truth from you that had shaken him to his core.

“Y/N is in the garden with Elaine and Feyre is putting Nyx to bed,” Rhysand slipped his hands into his pockets as he entered his office where Cassian had all but dragged Mor after she released you from her power. It had terrified him to realize what she was doing to you. How even after he'd told her to stay out of it, she'd still taken it upon herself to force you to tell everyone things you clearly weren't ready to talk about. Even more than that, it absolutely broke him how you simply shut down once she let you go. How your eyes went vacant and your face remained blank. Every tear that slid down your cheek was like a knife to his gut, and he planned to make the female in front of him answer for everyone.

“I did you a favor,” Mor kept her face impassive as she finished her glass. “Now you know what she was hiding. You said it was bothering you.”

“I said she wasn't a problem,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you to leave it alone.”

“You said there was something off about her,” she pointed out with an arched brow. “I've never known your instincts to be wrong, so I decided to get to the bottom of it.”

“The problem Mor,” Rhysand stepped in as Cassian released a growl of frustration, “is that Y/N is not a threat, she never has been and your use of your power to force her to reveal her private information is more than just a betrayal of Helion as our ally. You violated her.”

“I protected this family,” she seethed at him, “Something you seem incapable of doing lately. I will not apologize for making sure she wasn't going to slit Cassian's throat in his sleep. Or destroy the library with all the Priestesses still in it. You just let her into our home, Rhysand. A stranger who could destroy everything-”

“This is about Keir?” Cassian demanded, cutting her off. “Seriously, Mor? You did that to an innocent female because Rhys made a deal with your father?”

“He has nothing to do with it,” she growled as the glass in her hand shattered to pieces.

“Regardless,” Rhysand's lips were a tight line as he looked at his cousin. “Y/N has been a trusted advisor for Helion and his father before him for more than three hundred years. I've been aware of her existence since before Under the Mountain, even though I'd never met her before a few weeks ago.”

That made Mor pause, her eyes softening just a touch, “You have?”

“I have,” he confirmed, his voice hard and expression tense. He simultaneously looked guilty that Mor was still so angry at him and equally furious that she used her gifts on you. Forced you to tell a truth you did not want to share. Not yet.

Mor's frown shifted into a look of regret, “I didn't know.”

“No, you didn't,” Rhysand sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Where do we go from here?”

“I have to talk to Y/N,” Cassian crossed his arms over his chest. His wings tucked in tight as he looked at his High Lord.

Rhys nodded, “Make sure she's okay and if she's not,” violet eyes flicked towards Morrigan and back again “get her whatever she needs.”

“Handle this, Rhys,” Cassian's tone was low, a warning.

“Take care of her, Cassian.” There was no warmth in his brother's voice. The voice of the High Lord.

Without another word, the Illyrian turned and left the room. The moment he was alone in the too quiet hall, he felt the world slip out from under him. She was sick. Y/N was sick. And she didn't know if it was worth it to try and fight her disease or if she should just let it kill her. He didn't know how to process it. How to comprehend it. The fae did not get sick like humans did. Succumbing to seasonal viruses or a chill that sets into their bones. Fae illnesses were lethal, nearly every time.

Y/N was sick. It was nearly a guarantee that she would die, and Cassian could do nothing to stop it - to save her.

He didn't know why the news gutted him as it did. He didn't know why he felt like he was falling without beginning or end and that cruel darkness was swallowing him whole. He didn't know when this mystery female made of sunbeams and a gentle breeze had become whatever she was to him. He didn't know when she had shifted from a mere curiosity to something integral.

Elaine appeared before him. Brown gold curls and fawn colored eyes filled his vision as she placed a soft hand on his cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had trickled down his face.

“Pull yourself together,” she ordered, her voice sounding nothing like the gentle female he’d come to know. It was enough to startle him from the spiral his thoughts had taken him in. He blinked at her, and she held his gaze. “She has enough to deal with. Don't make your emotions her problem.”

Cassian nodded, and she dropped her hand as he wiped his eyes clear of tears. Once he'd regained his composure, he looked to the middle Archeron sister who studied him closely before seeming satisfied. She handed him a hot mug of tea and gestured towards the doors that led to the garden still blooming thanks to her careful dedication.

Taking one more calming breath, Cassian pushed open the doors to where you were sitting in a lowback chair. Your eyes were wide and clear as you watched the stars twinkle. Your hands were clasped together in your lap, and your head was tipped back as the lights seemed to dance and shine for you even as you sat so still below them. Your skin glowed faintly in the dark, a flicker of gold that had the flowers around you leaning in as if to drink in the daylight you brought with you wherever you went.

Cassian went still to see you there. An angel with broken wings. Fallen star longing for home.

“Are you going to stand there, General, or are you going to join me?��� Your voice was low and breathy, as if you were exasperated by him, and he felt something sink in his chest.

“I brought you tea,” he answered you slowly as he set the mug in your hands and sat down in the seat beside you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Your voice was still as brittle and broken as it had been when Mor had pulled the truth from you against your will. You didn't blame the female. You understood why she did it. If someone was a threat to the people you loved, you would burn the world down before you let a hair on their head be harmed. That didn't mean you were okay with it. You felt betrayed and violated, and it would be a long time before you could face the female that had done this to you.

“Y/N…” Cassian started but trailed off as his gaze met yours. His eyes were so sad, so unsure as he tipped his head to the side and searched for something to say. Anything to fill the silence.

You sighed deeply and turned back towards the sky. “Look at the stars, General.” You let the ghost of a smile pull at the corners of your lips as you spoke, “Look how they shine.”

Cassian obeyed. Turning his head to the night sky that enveloped you, he looked up, and together, you watched the stars shine.

Part 8

[danikamariewrites]

more dark reader?

Murder Spree

Dark!poly!batboys x dark!reader

A/n: always more dark reader! This is mostly fluff babes I hope you like it ❤️

Summary: Azriel takes you to the Hewn City to take care of some people. After a job well done your boys pamper you.

Warnings: blood, mentions of murder, dark themes, and typos

Once Azriel winnowed back to the street where the Town House is he placed you down. You gripped his arm smiling up at him, the blood drying on your face cracking as your face scrunches. Azriel smiled back at you and you let out the sweetest giggle.

You drag Azriel to the house as you skip through the front garden and up the small steps. Throwing open the door you do a little spin into the foyer dropping your weapons on the round table. “That was so much fun Azzy. We have to do it again sometime.” Azriel comes up to holding your waist. “You were amazing princess. Absolutely ruthless.”

Cassian came bounding down the stairs with a wide grin on his face. “How was the Hewn City?” You turn to look at him, smile still plastered on your face. “So much fun! Azzy let me catch this one guy and he let me torture him however I wanted. He even let me use Truth Teller.” You whispered that last part. “Wow, lucky girl.”

You throw your arms around Cassian leaning up to try and kiss him. He pulls away clicking his tongue at you. “Not that don’t want to kiss you mouse, but you need a bath.” You let out a small oh and let go of him. Cassian takes your hand in his. “Come on, I’ll help you while Az reports to Rhys.” You nod as he leads you up the stairs.

Whatever skin wasn’t clad in leather was covered in blood. Even the front of your hair was matted down with blood. Cassian carefully peeled the clothing from your body, softly kissing your newly exposed skin. Taking your hand he helps you into the steaming tub.

You let out a relaxing sigh as you rest your head against the rolled towel Cassian set up to be a pillow for you. Cassian wets a face cloth and starts to wipe at the blood on your face. You look at him with hearts practically in your eyes. Even though you all have quite the violent side, each of these males has such a soft spot for you. When they take care of you, you feel like the violence doesn’t define you.

“Thank you Cassie.” You whisper. He kisses your forehead letting out a soft hum. “Turn around so I can do your hair.” He said softly. The rest of your bath was relaxing thanks to Cassian's care and soft touches.

Once you were squaky clean Cassian lifted you from the tub to dry you with a fluffy warm towel. He kissed the top of your head, guiding you over to your vanity in the large bathroom. Cass pulls out the plush stool from under the counter for you.

As you sit he picks up your hair brush to begin your hair and skin care regiment. You had taught Cassian how to take care of you after your first mission with the boys. When you asked him why Cassian ahd told you that he wanted you to feel normal. That while the mission was within your violent nature you shouldn't have to feel violent and wild after. You alsmot cried when he said that. Never once had someone cared for you like that. It was refreshing to not have someone you like cower from you.

Cass finished by braiding your hair leaving another kiss on your head. He hands you one of Rhys' hoodies, your favorite fuzzy socks, and leggings to change into. You head to living room while Cassian left you to finish up paperwork in his office.

You wrap one of the throw blankets around your shoulders grabbing the book you had left on the coffee table. Plopping on the couch you snuggle into the corner of the plush cushions.

In the middle of the latest chapter you sensed Rhys' presence. Whiping your head toward the doorway you saw Rhys with his arms crossed, that signature feline smirk on his lips as his violet eyes twinkled with adoration. You give him a bright smile, happy to finally see him after being home for hours.

"Hi Rhysie." You say sweetly. His smirk widens into a grin as he pushes himself off the doorway making his way over to you. You move to make room for him to cuddle you. Rhys slips behind you, pulling you between his legs to rest on his chest. "Hi little mouse." He coos at you, pressing soft kisses across your face. You let out a soft hum leaning into him more.

"Az and I just finished our meeting. He told me how good you did on your mission." Tilting your head back you smile up at him. "And what did Azzy say exactly?" Rhys let out a breathy laugh, "He said that your attacks were perfect and your stealth flawless. He also told me that you wanted to tell me about one of the kills you made with a special weapon."

The mention of your good job with Truth Teller illicits a giggle from you. Rhys wraps his arms tighter around, resting his chin on your head. "So, Azzy was chasing this guy down the street and forced him down the alley I was waiting for him in. I knocked the guy out and we took him to a room Azzy has. When he woke up Azzy gave me Truth Teller and I got to run the interrogation."

You turn in Rhys' arms to look at him, running your fingers through his soft hair. He looks at you with amazment as you continue your story of bloody murder. Once you're done Rhys pulls you back to his chest lowering himself to lay on the couch. You snuggle into his chest wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're perfect little mouse. I'm so happy you're home." "Me too Rhys. Love you so much."