#leading her to try to regain the part of her that knew how to be a family ?

[feukt-42]

Elden ring + SotE lore rambles part 2 electric boogaloo

Spoilers ahead

If you want, my first post was here, its not necessary to read it to understand but it might also interest you.

Alright, so ive been playing the dlc and thinking a lot about Miquella, Marika, godhood and everything. And in my first post, I speculated that the reason Miquella turns out to be the "bad guy" (big quotation marks bc theres not really an actual "good" here cmon guys its fromsoft were talking about) was because the path to godhood required him to fundamentally change as a person.

We do see how much change is required here, Miquella abandons huge parts of himself, both physical and emotional. But the part that interests me here is St Trina specifically. St Trina is a large part of who Miquella once was, shorn away and made into an entirely new person, cast away in Miquella's post to godhood.

Now that got me thinking, bc doesnt that sound familiar to you ? A young empyrean, casting away part of themselves to become a god, and that part becoming an entirely new person of the opposite gender ? Now where have i heard that before...

Oh hi Radagon, what are you doing here ?

Do you see where i'm going here ? The whole Radagon is Marika thing has been a topic of debate for a while now, and i dont want to toot my own horn here but i might have cracked the code.

I think Marika split Radagon from herself on her own path to godhood just as Miquella did with St Trina.

It works pretty well with every aspect of the lore so far. It explains the how in the Radagon is Marika thing, St Trina is somewhat antagonistic towards Miquella just as Radagon and Marika were somewhat antagonistic towards each other, I dont think either Radagon or St Trina are empyreans despite their other halves being so, etc etc. And we do see that St Trina is a whole ass different person which implies Radagon probably was as well.

Anyways damn, like mother like son amirite ?

[silkythewriter]

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle. (Part 1)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: I JUST WANNA WORK ON SOMETHING FOR MYSELF BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO DOING REQUESTS ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

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“You should've seen the way she looked, igual que un ángel

Heaven's her residence y ella no se va a caer

They just can't reach her, princesita inalcanzable“

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The air was heavy almost unbreathable, how the demons lived like this was dancing around in your mind. It was so much different in hell then in heaven, there was so much… malice but that’s to be expected you supposed.

But you choose to continue walking, in your disguise of course, the out rage there would be if one of heavens top angels were in hell would be quite the mess to say the least. But you had to risk it, if charlie was right, if souls truly could be redeemed…maybe…just maybe, you’d be able to see him once more.

Finally you reached the hotel doors, and with one last stride stood right were the door knob was. Your nerves were going array to say the least, you knew what this rebellion could cost you. But it was for him, it always was, wasn’t it?, you quickly snapped out of you mind as you took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting anxiously. A creek rang out in your ears as the door opened, coming face to face with the princess of hell herself. She looked at you with confusion before quickly turning it into excitement as she bounced around quickly grabbing your arm and letting you in as she shut the door in a hurry.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She squealed. Leaving you surprise after the rough hearing in heaven she had just a day ago. “I’m glad I made it aswell, it took much more then I was expecting but I’m glad no one seemed to notice!” You said gracefully as you could. “Have you made sure everyone’s away?” You asked in hushed tone, she quickly nodded as she explained “yes I have!, though it cost a bit but Cherri took them out for a bit!” She said nervously playing with her hair “although this time I said to stray away from clubs…” she said with a heavy sigh. You placed your hand on her shoulder comforting as you began to speak “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You said with a sure smile. Making her regain hers as she agreed “yea! Your right, okay, let’s do this!” She said as her hands turned in to fist to pump herself up.

“So, what was your idea?”

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“So! What do you think?, I know it sounds a bit crazy but!-“ you quickly cut her off “it isn’t crazy Charlie! It just needs some work…” you smiled softly at the girl making her look back at her board covered in strings and notes. “Yea.. I know..” she said pacing “look, I know I said I have connections with adam.. but it’s gonna take some time to convince him.. especially if you and I wanna not make it look suspicious” you said pondering what your next move should be.

“I know but even for that one day in heaven I could tell he has some favoritism for you!” Charlie exclaimed “yes but-“ you inquired before she cut you off “look, Y/n, I just need the date of the extermination to be pushed back! He said he’ll come for us first and I just… I don’t know what to do! He won’t listen!” She said as her hand stressfully began to run through her blond hair as her pacing picked up pace. “He won’t listen, but I’ll make him listen Charlie, that’s an angels promise” you said trying to calm the girl. Which seemingly helped her before she sat down next to you sighing. Before turning her head to you questioning something in her head before finally speaking up.“I know this might be rude, don’t get me wrong! I’m so glad you actually listen to my idea! But…what’s the reasoning? I mean barely anyone even tried agreeing! But you’re.. just leading a hand for the hell of it?” She questioned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. You only stared at her as you questioned if you should even trust her with such information you were about to tell.“I…I have someone who’s dear to me here, and I just, I just want him back in my arms” you confessed making the princesses eyes widen. “Who!” She asked almost too quickly, you shook your head in disappointment “I apologize princess but I’m afraid that’s something I wish to not reveal” you said.

“Look I have to get going, someones probably already getting suspicious of my absents” you said standing up and dusting off your clothing “but like I promised I’ll see what I can do and I’ll push the date as far back as I can, okay?” You said as you looked down at Charlie who still was seated at the couch. She could only nod, but you could tell she had some Sorrow in her mood. “Please keep your head up high princess, do not let them knock down your dreams.” You said silently as you bowed to her “I’ll be taking my leave but please put your trust in me, I will keep your and my people safe” you said with a smile as she stood up eyes drifting to you. “I..I trust you y/n” she said with a soft smile you only nodded to this as a portal behind you soon began to open. “I’ll come back soon, and with good news” you said as you slowly backed into the portal “take care princess” you said one final time at her.

She nodded as you gave her one last reassuring smile before fully walking into the portal. leaving the princess in a half better state then she was before.

But little did both of you know, a red haired demon was carefully listening in to both of you. Oh how his smile grew all the more bigger

His precious y/n was soon to be home,

With him once more.

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EEEE THIS IS PART ONE IM WORKING IN PART TWO SOON I REALLY AM GOING CRAZY FOR THE STORY IM ABT TO COOK UP AHHH ̋(๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

[raccsnaccreese]

I’ve been thinking about how the Abyss’s supernatural powers affect Time. The news articles at the bar imply that people who disappeared decades ago return at almost the same state of dress and age as before. This leads me to believe that the Abyss traps its victims in an alternate reality, or a “timeless” dimension- a place where time either doesn’t exist, or is stuck in a Loop. There may be instances where the veil between dimensions is thin, allowing the Abyss victims to interact with their original reality. This is why we can see flashes of Shadow!Kat and Shadow!Corey in Velvet Cove. Shadow!Kat even seems to sometimes have enough power to influence the original reality, from the Abyss: providing the knife and cheat sheet to opening the cabin lock, possibly even materializing the items that were previously thrown into the Abyss to put them into the box and manifest that box for the adult girls to find. As we first enter the cabin, Kat had already been there! She already knew what the combination had been. She is here and unhere. They’ve always been here, as the time-line keeps looping.

Side note- I think the girls fully regaining their memories not only unlocked the box, but may have “unlocked” or re-opened the Abyss. If Kat said they needed to forget their Summer together to stay safe, closing the Abyss, then the returning memories may have also brought back that danger. I think this might be Kat’s way of asking for help…if her memory exists, she can also exist again, and escape the Abyss, but she needs help from her friends- IDK JUST THEORIES because I’m desperate for a sequel.

At the end of the game, Adult Swann enters the Abyss as well. The players actually see Shadow!Swann at least twice during the game- she can be both seen and heard during the Bloody Mary dare, and later seen in the Blue Spruce parking lot. Once Swann enters the Abyss, she is now part of this timeless / time-loop alternate reality. My theory is that she is possibly re-living the summer of 1995 over and over again, trying to reach through to her younger self- there’s even a hidden phone call interaction where someone who sounds like Adult Swann tries to warn young Swann about the Abyss, but the dialogue is garbled with static.

I started to think about this in a meta way- what if our repeated playthroughs as players represent Swann’s attempts in the Abyss as she relives all the possible choices and outcomes that summer, desperate to find the ideal circumstances that could have saved Kat and made things work out better? I think Oxenfree had similar gameplay elements, where secondary playthroughs would be impacted by the memories and choices of the initial playthrough. It would surely add some depth to the idea of replayability, not only to give players more options to explore, but also deepen the narrative implications of the Abyss’s supernatural nature and how the girls interact with it. Anyways I haven’t stopped thinking about this game for over two months, so I might also be stuck in a time-loop…send help

[foreverlittlesoshi]

if you were church

noah sebastian x reader

content warning: smut, oral (m. receiving), sacrilegious, dom! noah, and some soft parts

word count: 2.7k (this is the longest i've written in a good couple years)

part two of the bondage of freedom

it had been a couple weeks since noah had you, he genuinely thought maybe the crush would’ve gone away after he slept with you but it just heightened it even more and he needed you more than ever. he tried his best to go on with his daily life with focusing more on his band, partying and trying to sleep with other girls. he did have one girl but it just wasn’t the same. even when he was alone, he’d touch himself to the thought of you and remember how felt. 

he knew he needed more of you but it was hard to get you when you went under the radar. ever since that night you weren’t coming to church anymore, he would overhear your parents say you were too sick but he knew better because you had come to service before while being sick. he never saw you around town anymore as well. whether it was the local cafe, the bookstore, the park or even the damn grocery store. he saw you were active on social media but you stopped posting and quit responding to him. he couldn’t take it anymore, he understood you may needed space but it was killing him and he was just fucking craving you. 

that’s how he found himself standing outside of your house, looking up at your window and saw that your lights were on so he knew you were still up. only bad thing is that your parents are home so he had to be extremely quiet getting up to your window. 

the sounds of soft knocking startled you, taking your attention away from the overwhelming amount of extra studying you were doing to regain your faith since that night. that is until you saw who was knocking, the whole reason you had decided to throw yourself into studying and going into hiding. noah sebastian davis. the first and last person you wanted to see right now. you couldn’t deny that you wanted him again but it just felt so wrong though it was a good thing so without much thought, you opened your window and let him in.

“what are you doing here?” the softness in your voice made his heart flutter. what was he doing here? it’s not like he was gonna confess to you right now so he had to come up with something.

“i wanted to show you something.” he said while pulling out his phone which made you nervous because you remembered what he took with his phone last time. 

“noah, i don’t-” “c’mon, just trust me.” you shouldn’t have but you did trust him more than anyone even after what happened.

at first all you saw was the church background in the video which caused you to panic, “did you film us!” 

“of course not, doll. just watch.” the video continues to play as you observe as a nun & a priest begin to passionately kiss with it leading up to the nun sinking to her knees then pulling the priest’s pants down to suck him off. you quickly turned your head the other way.

“please tell me this isn’t real.” 

“it is, doll. i just wanted to show you that there is no shame in what we did. now watch this part.”

seeing the way the nun’s head bobs up and down with how she also takes the entire length into her mouth. it made you nervous but you could feel yourself getting slightly turned on and it’s like noah immediately knew.

“would you like to try it, sweetheart?” the raspiness in noah’s voice didn’t help.

“yes, i would.” your verbal consent was all that he needed as he sat on the edge of the bed and spread his long legs apart. the sight of you falling onto your knees for him made his mind go extremely fuzzy. you watched as he unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers then pulled out his cock. you’ve been craving another taste since that night though you had no idea what you were really about to do. the sight of him jerking himself while thumbing his tip to spread his pre cum made you want him even more.

“go ahead, doll.” when you grabbed his cock, it was shocking how hot it felt and you did your best to copy him with sloppy jerking but with the quiet moans he let out, you felt like you weren’t doing that bad. you take a chance with dragging your tongue from the base to the tip, his head tilts back so fast you were scared he’d break it and his body stiffened.

“at least warn me next time. we don’t need your parents walking in on this.” 

“oh, i’m sorry!” 

you gag as you begin to take him into your mouth while doing your best to not have your teeth hurt him and begin to bob your head up & down. the struggle to breathe caused you to pull off his cock to cough, though you did your best to do it quietly to not alarm your parents and went straight back to it. he opened his eyes long enough to get a glimpse of the sight of you, you looked so small between his legs with a face struggling so hard to take him and please him. tears in your eyes, small hands wrapped around what couldn’t fit into your mouth, and he could tell he was close to cumming. 

“fuck, doll. i’m close.” noah groaned, which caused to look up at him and the eye contact awoke something in him. you felt his long fingers fist your locks, grabbing harshly and beginning to thrust into your mouth. making you take every inch of him so your throat was being obliterated and getting extremely raw from the harshness with tears pouring from your eyes finally. he holds your head still as he feels himself start to twitch, letting a low groan as he cums and the sweet taste of his release hits the back of your throat. 

noah lets you pull away from him, watching you try not to spill any of his cum and swallowing it all down, then you wipe any remains of it from your mouth just to lick it off of your fingers. his lips curving into a smirk at the sight of that.

“so, did you like that?” noah asks as he fixes himself then zips his pants back up and pulls you into his lap. he did his best to straighten your hair back out and wipe the tears off of your face.

“you know, i actually did.” your hoarse voice made him chuckle.

as much as you wanted to get up to get some water, you didn’t want to move. it felt so nice to be held by him even though you wanted more and the little crucifix hanging on your wall also felt like it was mocking you. 

“can we fuck again?” you ask him quietly.

“no, baby. not tonight, it’s too risky.” you couldn’t help but whine at his response. “i know, baby but we can’t have you being too loud and we get caught.” 

“can you at least stay until i fall asleep?”

“of course.” and he did, covering you and turning off your desk lamp then left through the window quietly to not disturb you.

-

you tried your best to conceal your sore throat, convincing your parents that it was just a really bad cold and that you would get over it soon. from drinking tons of water to using numbing spray to help it. you wished noah would’ve given you a warning but he didn’t, hell he didn’t even text you any advice and would just send laughing emojis every time you’d ask. 

“what do you even see in him?” your friend rebecca asks, “you do realize that he’s just using you?” 

“of course i thought about that but with how long i’ve known noah, i don’t think he would do something like that.” you felt stupid for defending him even though you knew he wasn’t using you.

“c’mon, i know that you have known each other since you two were kids but the fact that now he only wants something to do for sexual stuff. doesn’t that strike as weird?” 

“don’t say it so loudly!” you slap a hand over her mouth, your bedroom door was open and your dad’s office was just one door down. “they don’t know about us, okay?” 

“why are doing this then?” 

“i don’t know.” but you fully did know why. 

you wanted to be with noah but you didn’t know how to tell him or if he even felt that same way. 

-

can you come over?

are you alone?

his response made you let out a sigh, yes.

i’ll be over soon then

okay

when you heard the soft knocks on your window, you rushed to let him in and technically pulled him in actually.

“woah, woah, you good?” noah asked, for some reason the question had anger rising in you.

“what do you want from me?” he felt his heart stop, “are you just only gonna use me or is there something deeper, noah?”

he wasn’t ready to confess but the look of anger and upset on your face made his heart feel like it was breaking. he should’ve known this was gonna take a toll on you but he was so caught up in his own feelings, that he never thought about yours and it was making him feel like shit. 

“i’m so sorry, doll. but yes, it means something deeper.” his words surprised you, “i was just too scared to tell you. to be honest, i think i’ve been in love with you since we were kids. i just always thought you were too good for me and you were always more concerned with religion and trying to please your parents that you never noticed me trying to flirt or anything along those lines. hell, the whole reason we slept together was because i was just tired of hiding my feelings and i thought maybe it would help me get over you.”

your eyebrows were furrowed like you were trying to remember so he continued, “all that i did those couple weeks was think about you, no matter what i did. that’s why i came over that night, not just to get blown but because i couldn’t stand not seeing you. i was close to confessing that night but i panicked.”

“you’re so stupid, you know that?” his heart broke at those words,”noah, i’ve had the biggest crush on you since we were like 12 but i never acted on it because my parents told me not to get involved with you that way with how much was going on in your home life back then. i spent so many years trying to defend your actions but all i was told was to focus on the church and not worry about you. not to mention, when you got with brittney, i thought i had no chance.”

he couldn’t help but chuckle then held your face in his large hands, “do you forgive me?”

“of course i do but something else can make me forgive you more.” you tell him and he looked at you confused.

“fuck me, noah.” the softness in your voice made him immediately hard and now that he was looking at you more, your outfit didn’t help the pain in his pants. white turtleneck paired with a black & white skirt with white frilly socks and black mary janes. 

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” he says quietly as he removes your shirt, tossing it across the room and removing his own. 

“tell me what you want.” his low voice made you let out a whimper, “you want my cock so badly, don’t you, sweetheart?”

when your back hit your bed, you couldn’t help but cover your face from embarrassment and just whine at him. noah just smiled at the sight of you while he snuck his hands under your skirt to pull off your underwear, throwing them somewhere and began to use his thumb to circle your clit. quiet moans leaving your lips as you take in the pleasure along with your hips already bucking. 

“are you gonna tell me what you want now? don’t make me stop now.” 

“please, i just want you. please just fuck me. i need it. i need you, noah.” he hasn’t even done anything to you yet you’re already so whiny for him and he loved it. when he removed his hand, you let out a huff but stopped when you opened your eyes to see him removing his pants.

“turn around and get on your knees.” 

you wasted no time, your ass still covered by the damn skirt that he’s falling in love with as well so he hates that he’s probably about to ruin it. noah wasted no time kneeling behind you, pulling the skirt up so it was bunched around your hips and then dragging his cock through your wetness. 

“i love you and i just want to make sure that you truly want this.” he said.

“i love you too and yes, please just give it to me, noah.” you begged him.

noah pushes into you carefully, trying to go slow so he doesn’t hurt you too much from the new position and knowing he was going to feel a lot deeper than before. you hissed at the feeling, the size of him was something you felt like you were never gonna get used to and then you felt him push in further. he grabs onto your hips as he pulls out just to roughly push back into you and you moan out loudly.

“be as loud as you want, remember we’re alone.” noah’s voice sounded muffled due to the pleasure you were focusing on more.

he kept a fast and steady pace, loud clapping from his hips hitting your ass and your loud moans made him want to go even faster. his eyes made contact with the crucifix above your bed and he got an idea. one hand let go of your hip to roughly grab your hair, lifting your head which caused you to arch your back even more and your mouth fall open so your moans now sound like screams. 

“open your eyes, doll.” noah whispers to you and you quickly do, making you look at the crucifix. 

“do you accept me as your god now finally?” his hips started to move faster which caused you to cry out as it felt like he was entering your stomach.

“fuck, yes. you’re my only god now. just you, noah. only you.” you blabber out and he let out a low laugh at your response.

“damn right.” he let go ahead of your hair which made you fall back onto your mattress and your hands were gripping your blankets so hard that it hurt. he couldn’t stop his own moans from leaving his mouth at the sight of you and he felt you clench at his moans.

“tell your god how badly you want to be filled with cum.” he demanded.

“fuck, please. give me all of it, noah. please, i want it so fuckin badly.” you cry out as he goes harder.

you could feel the bruises already forming on your hips with how hard noah was gripping your waist as you both cum. your insides felt so warm and battered as you felt him empty himself into you, your mind felt fuzzy as he pulled out slowly and shivered as you felt it start to leak out of you. noah took a minute to catch his breath then he flipped you over and entered you again which caused you to whine. you reached for him so he leaned closer and you immediately wrapped your arms around him to hold him close.

“you okay?” he ask worried and you tiredly nodded, “yes, i just don’t want you to leave just yet.”

“well, your parents are gonna be home soon.”

“fuck them, they’ll have to get used to seeing you in my room soon.” you giggle at him.

“i love you so much, you know?” he tells you again and you softly smile at him.

“i love you too.” 

AN - this took me like three days to write so enjoy!

title comes from church by fall out boy

oh also this is the only time i will ever use noah's real last name because i usually try to avoid it all cost

part one - https://www.tumblr.com/foreverlittlesoshi/767807347709132800/the-bondage-of-freedom

[shimmerandink]

Torn between two part 2

Vi x Reader

Feat Caitlyn

Angst

Tags: Vi x reader, Vi x Caitlyn, arguing, cheating

Summary: Vi and y/n’s conversation are interrupted. When on a walk later, Caitlyn brings up the girl in the bathroom, which leads to an argument, and more.

Pt 1 Pt3 Masterlist

“Because you told me to.”

Vi was just about to speak, her chest tight with all the things she wanted to say but couldn’t, hadn’t said, when the door swung open, and Caitlyn’s voice rang out from the hallway.

“Vi?”

Vi’s heart sank.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned away from you, standing a little straighter as though trying to regain some semblance of control. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

You, standing there with a quiet intensity in your gaze, didn’t say anything. It was like the world had frozen between you two, and now Caitlyn’s voice shattered it. You watched as Vi’s face shifted, as the walls she’d carefully built around herself began to rise again.

“I—I’ll be right there,” Vi called out, her voice strained as she turned back to you.

There was so much she wanted to say, needed to say. But the moment had passed, and she knew it. She could feel Caitlyn’s presence growing more insistent, the tension pressing on her chest as she stood there, caught between two worlds.

“Vi…”

You started to speak, but the words died on your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Vi said quickly, her voice sharp now, defensive. “I really need to go. We’ll talk later. Okay?”

You nodded, though your heart ached. The harsh finality of her words stung. Later. How many times had she said later? How many times had later never come?

But there was nothing you could do. She was already backing away, already slipping out of the bathroom, leaving you standing in the cold silence.

⸻

The cool air outside felt like a slap in the face. Vi walked a few steps ahead, the weight of her unspoken words pressing down on her. Caitlyn was beside her, chatting casually about the mission, unaware of the emotional hurricane Vi had just encountered.

“Vi, you’re not listening,” Caitlyn said with a small frown, gently tapping Vi’s arm to get her attention. “You’re all… tense. What’s going on?”

Vi forced a tight smile, trying to push the thoughts of you, of the past, out of her mind. She had to focus on now. Focus on Caitlyn, on what she had.

“I’m fine,” Vi muttered, her voice a little too sharp. “Just… tired. Long night.”

But Caitlyn wasn’t convinced. “No, you’re not fine. You’ve been on edge since we walked in there. What’s up? Was that girl in the bathroom your ex or something?”

Vi froze. The question hit her like a punch to the gut. Her blood ran cold as the image of you, your face, your voice, flashed in her mind. The walls she’d tried to keep up crumbled a little, just enough for Caitlyn to notice.

Vi clenched her fists at her sides, trying to push down the surge of frustration building in her chest. “She was just… someone I knew a long time ago,” Vi said tightly, her voice betraying her defensive nature.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. She could tell there was more to the story, but she didn’t push, at first. “Okay, but why are you acting so weird about it? You’re not usually like this.”

Vi’s heart pounded. Her chest tightened. Caitlyn wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t usually like this, but everything had changed the moment she saw you again. She wanted to be honest, but she knew if she let herself be vulnerable, Caitlyn would see right through her.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Caitlyn,” Vi said firmly, a little too harsh.

But Caitlyn wasn’t backing down. She knew Vi better than anyone, and this was a side of her that had been locked away for too long. Caitlyn stepped in front of her, halting her in her tracks.

“Vi, come on. You’re acting like… like you saw a ghost or something,” Caitlyn said, her voice softer now, but no less insistent. “I care about you. I don’t want us to have secrets.”

Vi’s heart twisted. She didn’t want to hurt Caitlyn, didn’t want to be the one to make her feel like there was a part of Vi that wasn’t hers to know. But how could she explain everything that had happened? How could she explain the way her chest tightened at the thought of you? The way seeing you again made her question everything?

“I am telling you the truth,” Vi said, her voice strained as she looked away. “It was just someone from my past. It doesn’t matter.”

But Caitlyn wasn’t buying it. “It does matter. It’s obvious that she means something to you. What are you hiding, Vi?”

Vi felt like she was suffocating under the weight of it all. She didn’t know how to balance the two sides of herself, the one who had moved on and the one who still longed for you. The one who had left you behind and the one who was tempted to turn around and beg for forgiveness.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Vi snapped, her voice trembling with the tension she couldn’t release. “Just drop it, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn’s expression softened, but the hurt in her eyes was clear. She took a step back, crossing her arms as she studied Vi. “I’m not going to push you, Vi… but don’t shut me out.”

Vi didn’t respond, instead walking away with a heaviness in her chest that felt like it might consume her. She couldn’t talk to Caitlyn about this, not yet, not with everything so raw. And she couldn’t face you again either, not until she knew what the hell she was supposed to do.

————

Caitlyn stands with her arms crossed, her eyes full of hurt and frustration. “You’re shutting me out, Vi. I thought we were past this. What’s going on? Why are you so distant?”

Vi, pacing back and forth, clenches her jaw. “You wouldn’t understand, Caitlyn. I don’t need you pushing me right now.”

“I don’t understand?” Caitlyn’s voice rises, the cracks in their relationship becoming more apparent. “You don’t think I have a right to know? This thing with your ex… it’s clearly not over.”

Vi stops, her eyes darkening. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Cait.”

But Caitlyn isn’t backing down. “You’ve been holding back ever since we met. You’ve been so closed off, so distant. And now I know why. It’s because you’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Vi’s chest tightens, and she takes a step toward Caitlyn. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Caitlyn, hurt and angry, throws her hands up in frustration. “I’m done pretending, Vi. I’m done pretending everything’s okay when I can feel the walls between us. You want her, don’t you?”

Vi’s eyes flare with a mix of guilt and rage. “I never wanted this, Caitlyn. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to feel this way.”

Caitlyn’s voice cracks, and she looks away. “Then why are we even still here? Why are you with me if you’re not really with me?”

Silence falls between them. Vi’s throat tightens. The weight of everything, her feelings for you, her guilt over leaving Caitlyn hanging, hangs heavy in the air.

Vi doesn’t answer, and Caitlyn’s face softens, eyes full of pain. “I guess that’s your answer, then.”

Caitlyn leaves the room, her steps heavy and final. Vi’s heart aches, but she knows, deep down, Caitlyn’s right. Something inside her has been broken for a long time, and Caitlyn can’t fix it.

⸻

At the Bar:

Vi’s eyes snap up as the reader enters, their presence a jarring reminder of everything she’s been trying to ignore. They glance around, and when their eyes meet hers, something unspoken passes between them. Vi knows she can’t run from this anymore.

The reader slides onto the stool next to her, a knowing smile on their face. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” they say, their voice low, warm, and inviting.

Vi sighs, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Yeah, well, I’m not really in the mood for company.”

But even as she says it, she wants nothing more than to be near them. There’s something magnetic about you, a pull she can’t resist, and she can feel the space between them closing in.

You notice the tension in Vi’s posture, the way she holds herself back. “What happened, Vi? What’s going on with you?”

Vi’s eyes soften, but her lips are tight. “I screwed up,” she says, the words coming out before she can stop them. “I ruined everything.”

The reader watches her quietly, sensing the pain behind her words. They reach out, their hand brushing against hers. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Vi’s heart races. She can’t keep pretending she’s fine. She’s not. Not with you. Not with Caitlyn. Not with herself.

Without thinking, Vi leans in, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s desperate, full of everything she’s been holding in. She can taste the bitterness of regret, the sweetness of the past, all in the same kiss. And in that moment, all the walls she’s built come crashing down.

The kiss leads to more. Vi feels alive again, in a way she hasn’t in a long time. But there’s a sense of guilt creeping in. She’s with Caitlyn, was with Caitlyn, and yet, here she is with you.

The rest of the night is a blur, whispers, touches, the heat of the moment carrying them both into a place where there’s no going back.

In the dim light of the bar, they find themselves tangled together, neither of them caring about the consequences. All that matters is the closeness, the need for one another that they’ve both been trying to deny.

The next morning, Vi wakes up, her head pounding, and her heart racing. She looks over at you, still sleeping beside her, and guilt twists her stomach.

It’s a mistake. It was always a mistake. She was supposed to be with Caitlyn, to make things work. But now… now everything is more complicated than ever.

Vi slips out of bed quietly, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions. As she dresses, she knows she can’t stay with Caitlyn. She can’t keep pretending she’s okay when she’s not.

When Caitlyn finds out, the fight is going to be inevitable.

[terry-perry]

Out of Business

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

The next part of this

Tags: @mysterypotatoink @lokis-imaginary-friend @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @martinys-world @yui-onnero

He lurked in the background, observing the lovely doe before him grazing on grass. She was a sweet thing that was none the wiser of his presence as he slowly snuck up towards her.

He did his best to muffle the static radiating off him. He was normally able to keep it under control, but lately, he'd been out of sorts. He could deny it as much as he wanted, but everyone knew what was happening. Further proof came in how he spotted the markings of a nearby tree as he got closer to the doe, leading him to release an audible growl, alerting the doe of his presence.

It was too late for her, however, since a large, dark tentacle pierced her middle, killing her in an instant. He pounced on the carcass and took a giant chunk of it by ripping it with his teeth. For the majority of the time, he isn't so primal with his food and takes his time with it. That day and the past few had him unreasonably angry at everyone and everything.

He was mad at Carmilla for speaking with him, Y/N for not giving him a chance to explain himself, and at himself for letting her go. At that moment, he was mad at what was carved on the tree, which now looked over him and made him feel more judged for his recent actions.

It didn't help that he still remembered how the markings got there...

Months ago...

"Husker, my good man! I need you to serve only the finest bottle of wine tonight, you hear?!"

Everyone was caught off guard by Alastor's presence, seeing him trudge down the hotel stairs more animated than usual.

"I want things to be 100% top-notch this evening for me and my gal,"

"Aww, Alastor," Charlie approached him at the bar with curiosity and intrigue. "Do you have a friend stopping by?"

"Suppose you can say that," Alastor replied, still practically beaming as his shadow was conjured up with a mirror so he could adjust his bowtie and spruce up his hair. "I'm inviting a special someone to the hotel. Someone I've grown accustomed to after spending time with her."

"Oh shit! Am I hearing things right?!" Angel was the next to approach Alastor after hearing this bombshell. "Big, scary Alastor found someone he's willing to get it on with?"

Alastor snapped his head away from his reflection to glare at Angel, but it was only a second or two before regaining his composure. "I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. I have been courting someone."

Charlie practically squealed upon hearing the news. "That's great! I'm so happy to hear such news! She must be quite special to get you so happy and want to make this a lovely night for you both."

"Special, or out of her fuckin' mind..." Husk grumbled from the bar so only Vaggie, who joined the rest of the group, could hear and silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, my dear. I do request one thing. My lady love is a very private person and would rather keep our relationship under wraps for the time being. I assume you all can refrain from any gossip that can be conjured from our romance."

"Of course! Your secret is safe-"

"Why exactly do we need to keep this a secret?" Vaggie interrupted her girlfriend to offer the usual suspicion she reserved just for him. "You're not trying to rope us into some shady business, are you?"

Alastor refrained from rolling his eyes. She was always so distrustful.

His relationship with Y/N might've started as a potential business and a possible deal, especially since it was so easy to capture her heart so her soul would've been no problem. The more time spent with her, however, it instead was slowly turning into something else - something dearer that left him so unsure. Instead of him getting something out of her, he always made sure she'd want for absolutely nothing, no soul required.

He wondered how he could've gone through life and death not knowing such an endearing, trusting darling. She was kind and gentle but didn't possess any of the bubbly naivete Charlie did. She was not only aware of where they were but also came from a family of assailants and weapons dealers who raised her to be alert and to fend for herself. He both feared and admired that along with how she accepted him for who he was and never judged the darkest parts of himself.

It was all so new and a bit alarming, whatever this was. He just knew he had to keep a good hold on it--

----

Alastor's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at his door. No doubt Charlie chose to stop by to check on him after he charged back to the hotel a few days ago, after his fallout with Y/N.

It wasn't the princess' dulcet tones that implored him, however, after some insistent knocking. Instead, Alastor heard a more unwelcoming voice that under more proper circumstances he'd find entertaining.

"Alastor?" Vaggie continued to call out to him outside his room. "Come on, let me in. We need to talk."

[slasherslittlesimp]

Jacob Black/Jasper Hale- Soulmates or Not Part 2

As you slowly regain consciousness, the first thing you hear are people arguing. Your eyes flutter open and as you look to the side, you see Jacob practically up in Edward's face, the wolf boy looking incredibly pissed.

"You nearly killed them!" Jacob points towards you as he yells at the vampire.

"I did what you asked me to." Edward defends himself, not looking nearly as bothered as Jacob does. "What matters is that they're still alive and that they didn't change."

"You're lucky. If they had died, or even worse turned into a damn leech, I would've killed you." Jacob growls. You can't help but to snort in disbelief at that, pulling everyone's attention towards you as they realize you're awake. Jacob is the first to rush over to you, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with surprising concern. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got ran over by a truck, and then backed over again." You grumble, pulling your hand from his as you attempt to sit up. "What happened?"

Jacob's expression quickly turns from concern to anger. "What happened is that you handed yourself over to a damn leech! What the hell were you thinking going off on your own like that?! You could've died!"

"Why do you care?" You glare at him, watching as he flinches slightly. "Last I checked you didn't want anything to do with me."

"You're my imprint!" He argues.

"Since when has that mattered?" You can't help but to raise your voice, your own anger steadily rising. "You made it very clear from day one that you didn't want me as your imprint because I'm not Bella! You should've been thrilled at the idea of your imprint disappearing because then there would be nothing else in your way of being with Bella! Oh, wait! Except the fact she doesn't like you like that! She loves Edward, not you!"

"If she didn't care about me she wouldn't have kissed me!" Jacob snaps only to immediately close his mouth in shock.

You stare at him with wide eyes before turning your attention towards your sister who had been awkwardly standing silently in the corner the entire time. "You kissed him?"

"(Y/N)." Bella takes a step forward, looking regretful as her eyes silently beg for you to hear her out.

"Don't." You hold up your hand, forcing her to stop in her tracks. "Don't even try to explain yourself right now. I don't care for your reasoning. You don't just kiss someone Bella, especially after making it clear you don't like them in that way. It's just cruel."

"I didn't..." She trails off as you glare at her, knowing that there's nothing she can say to make this better.

Before all of this drama concerning vampires and werewolves started, she knew about your crush on Jacob. You admittedly had liked him when you were children, but that crush faded away when you both moved away with your mother. When you moved back, that crush slowly developed again. Unfortunately, the boy has only ever had eyes for you sister, and she has done nothing but lead him on over and over again. You grew tired of it pretty quickly, but your crush didn't fully die out until he rejected you as his imprint. That was when you knew you never stood a chance with him.

Sighing, you stand up from the couch, swaying slightly since you're still not fully recovered from losing so much blood. Jacob attempts to help but you simply slap his hand away, mumbling to not touch you. The second you regain your balance you make your way towards the front door, saying thanks to Edward in your mind for saving your life even if you didn't want it. Jacob and Bella both beg you to stay, that you're still not well enough to be going off on your own but you ignore them.

Exiting the house, you find Jasper standing in front of his vehicle, keys in hand. Surprisingly, Jasper is one of your closest friends. You two became rather close since Bella would always drag you along when visiting the Cullens, and Jasper could always tell how uncomfortable and out of place you felt. Despite his own discomfort, he made the effort to comfort you, striking up small conversations here and there before the two of you finally grew comfortable enough with each other to joke around. The two of you have been best friends ever since.

Getting into the vehicle, neither of you speak as he starts it up and pulls out of the driveway. His hand automatically comes over to rest on your knee, the action instantly calming your emotions. Jasper doesn't have to use his ability in order to do so at this point. Just him being in contact with you is enough to calm even your most intense emotions. He's always there for you, especially whenever Jacob does something to piss you off or upset you.

Pulling up to a spot the two of you often visit together- a little alcove overlooking the ocean- he shuts off the vehicle and gets out, quickly circling around to open your car door for you. He holds out his hand which you easily accept, neither one of you letting go as you walk to the makeshift bench Jasper made out of two tree stumps and a log.

Sitting down, neither one of you say anything for quite some time until he finally decides to break the silence. "You know, I'm glad that you're okay." He pauses as he looks at you with a smirk. "Though I'd be lying if I said I'm not disappointed that I didn't get to see you as a vampire."

"You could always change me yourself." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"Don't tempt me." Jasper chuckles, leaning over to brush his nose against your neck, the action sending a chill down your spine. "Eternity with you doesn't sound so bad."

You look at him, your breath nearly being taken away by the look in his eyes. It's a look that you've always wished to be directed towards you- a look of love and adoration. The look takes your breath away, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You'd want to spend eternity with me?" You question just to make sure.

"I'd spend every second of my life by your side if I could. And if you chose to stay mortal and die a natural death, then I'd die with you so we could spend our afterlives together too."

[rvlse]

Hiii! Could you write something with Earthspark Bumblebee?

A new years kiss perchance? Could lead to other activities.

Nsfw or sfw up to you! 😼

Hi Hi! Omg, my first request, I can't believe it.🤩

Okay, so I wasn't sure what gender you wanted, so I tried to make this gender neutral.

New Year's Kiss (BUMBLEBEE ES X GN! READER)

WARNINGS: None, this is SFW... implied freakiness tho

New Year's Day. Everybody was super excited, planning new year resolutions and praying for a good 2025. 

Robby, Mo, and the other terrans had been busy all day making food and preparing games for the evening. 

Bee, however, had other plans. He’d been secretly crushing on his cybertronian team member, Y/N. Every time you’d come near him, he'd go nearly insane trying to contain himself and not say something ridiculous.

At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if you thought he was crazy. He might as well be, with how often you plagued his thoughts.

So, he finally wanted to do something about his emotions and ask you out on a date. Tonight. He was jittery just thinking about it. 

The terrans knew all about his crush on you, which somehow made everything better and worse at the same time. They constantly had something to say, but they had helped him plan his night out.

If all goes well, he'd ask you out, and then you’d fall in love with him, and then-

“Bee?” Mo called up to him. He turned his head down to acknowledge her.

“Mo, what's up?” He tried to act like he hadn't just been fantasizing. Mo raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“Check the time. Now or never,” she teased, putting her small hands on her hips. Bee sighed, and got up from the dusty floor next to the Malto house. It was 11:47 PM… time for his plan to begin.

As he saw you sitting there in the barn, talking with Twitch, he swore his spark skipped a couple beats. You were just… jaw dropping to him. Perfect. Everything he’d ever need and more. He took a couple slow steps towards you, scared he would mess up the first part of his little scheme. 

“Uhm- Y/N?” He almost mumbled, bringing a servo to your shoulder. You turned your head with a smile on your faceplates. 

“Hey, Bee, what’s going on?” You greeted him, a happy twinkle in your optics. He almost short-circuited at the sight. He nervously glanced at Twitch, who nodded excitedly and shot him two thumbs up.

Gulping, he took a deep breath. 

“You mind coming with me to the roof? I got something to show you,” he managed to say calmly.

You, of course, nodded and got up without a second thought. It was one thing he loved about you.

“So, I kind of… put something together. With the help of some friends,” he rushed his words as he climbed onto the black asphalt shingles, giving a glance at the various gifts he’d put up here earlier today.

They were all cutely laid out on a fluffy cow pattern blanket. Mo and Twitch had said you would love it. He didn’t know any better, so he agreed. Now, he could only hope for the best.

He watched as you clumsily clambered onto the roof, taking a second to regain your balance.

He turned to the presents and took a deep breath in. Hopefully this will all go according to plan and- 

“OOF-” He spluttered as a weight crashed into him, almost knocking him over the edge of the roof. Bewildered, he looked down only to see you squeezing the spark out of him with a big bear hug.

“Bee, you did all this for me?” You exclaimed, and he brought his servos around to your back to hug you back.

“I wanted to do something special for you…” he murmured, his gaze trained on your face lovingly. You slowly let him go and tumbled over to the cute blanket, sitting down and examining each gift closely. 

He’d gotten you a crate of high grade energon, an extremely oversized cow plushie, and an absolutely massive bouquet of your favorite flowers.

He watched you as you marveled over each item, praising him and thanking him over and over again. He was so happy you liked it. At first, he was worried it wasn’t enough, or that maybe it was too much. The relief he felt was like no other.

He checked his internal time. 11:58 PM. Almost time. 

“Y/N… Listen, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but these last few months…” He watched you stand up, “you… you’re all I think about. It’s really distracting, sometimes-”

He paused.

“Point is…” 

11:59 PM.

“Y/N, I-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because your lips were on his, preventing his ability to speak. His optics were wide, and his servos hovered in the air, unsure of where to put them.

And then he realized exactly what was happening, and his optics fluttered shut, a shot of adrenaline rushing to his core. His servos found your waist, gripping your metal firmly. God, this was too much.

12:00 AM.

With several bangs, shimmering fireballs of dazzling colors were shot into the starry midnight sky, illuminating the Malto farm.

Bee didn’t even notice the fireworks, his circuits entranced by the feeling of your frame in his servos, the feeling of his glossa in your intake. Screams of joy and celebration were heard from all around the town, emphasizing how special of a moment New Years really was.

He kissed you for what seemed like hours, his digits gently groping your body. When you finally pulled away for a breath, the fireworks had died down and the only chatter he could hear was from the Malto family inside the barn underneath them.

He stared longingly, pathetically, into your optics, his jaw slack in wonder. How were you so pretty? So perfect? How had you managed to silence and turn him into a horny mess with just a kiss?

“I love you,” he blurted, hot energon rushing to his face. Frag, did he seriously just say that? Too soon, too soo-

“I love you, too, Bee,” you replied, bringing your own servo up to cup his blue flushed cheek.

Yeah, he just pissed himself.

HAPPY NEW YEAR I'M WISHING YOU ALL LOVE, LUCK, HEALTH, WEALTH, AND PROSPERITY!🥳

[toxic3mmy]

prompt: alex is your new and annoying stepbrother

a little short but more is cumming! i mean, coming (;

Part Two

“you’ve got to be joking” you muttered underneath your breath

“son, please show y/n to her new room. the two of you are going to have a lot of time to get to know each other” your soon to be stepdad said as he walked hand in hand with your mom to their bedroom downstairs

alexis lead you up the stairs and into a vacant room. this bedroom was huge. it already had furniture and was so elegant. you had the perfect ideas for decorating it.

no more ratty little apartments with only one bedroom for you and your mom to share. after 19 years, you finally had your own personal space.

“this is it, i guess” alex rolled his eyes

“i even have my own restroom? wow…” you thought aloud to which alex scoffed at

“no, you idiot, don’t you see two doors here? i have to share a restroom with you” he replied in an annoyed tone

you didn’t say anything and simply began to unpack your things quietly.

“did you need something?” you asked politely

“nope, just have to make sure you’re feeling welcome stepsis” he smirked

you quietly get up from your suitcase. you smiled sarcastically and slammed your door shut in alex’s face, hitting his nose in the process due to the way he was peering into your room.

you smiled to yourself as alex held his bloody nose, groaning and cursing in pain. you sat back down and continued to unpack your things.

~

“sweetheart, your stepfather and i are having dinner at a little restaurant nearby. would you like to join us?”

“is alex going?”

“yes i believe he’s getting ready as we speak”

“i think im okay. i still have more unpacking to do and a bit of rearranging. plus, i want to try out that bathtub, did you see it? it has all these little temperature settings and lights, it’s so cool mom. you guys go have fun. i love you”

“i love you too, mija. call me if you need anything, okay?”

“okay, see ya”

“bye sweetheart” she smiled before heading out with her new hubby

you gathered some clothes and found a few candles in the bathroom. you began to run the water as you came up with a way to relax.

you quickly grabbed what you needed and then undressed yourself. you added bubbles and all kinds of good smelling things to the water before finally immersing yourself into the bathtub.

the water was the perfect temperature. you sighed in content and played some soft music on your phone. you gently washed your hair with some shampoo and rinsed out as much as you could. you reached over and grabbed your little purple friend.

you turned on your toy and moved it across your chest and down your breasts. you circled it around your nipples and moaned softly, closing your eyes. you felt heat rushing through your body and down to your core. you slowly moved the toy underwater and onto your clit.

“oh fuck” you hissed at the contact and used your other hand to pinch your breasts. you circled your swollen clit and tilted your head back as soft whimpers left your lips.

alex heard your music and decided to scare you a bit. he knew you were in the restroom, probably doing your makeup or something. he opened the door quietly and closed it behind him. as he rounded the crystal wall and crept closer to where you were, he stopped in his tracks at the sight. your skin was covered in foamy bubbles, your eyes were shut and mouth opened slightly as you were in immense pleasure, and your body was on full display. it was all too much. he stood there with his mouth wide open for a second, not believing what he was seeing. he realized how wrong it was for him to be there at that very moment. he quickly turned around to leave but his own feet got in the way. he tripped over himself and made a slight thud sound.

your eyes snapped to where alex stood, trying to regain his balance. you turned off your vibrator and covered your naked chest.

“what the fuck are you doing?!”

“i um…i, i was—” he stuttered

you grabbed the nearest thing to you, which was a bottle of some soap, and launched it at him

“get out!”

“s-sorry” alex quickly left and shut the door

what in the actual fuck?

didnt he go to dinner with your parents?

why was he even there in the bathroom?

did he see what you were doing?

you didnt know. but you did know that this definitely turned you on.

you stood up to lock both doors as you should’ve done in the first place. you got back into the bath and finished washing off to get dressed and confront that sneaky fucker.

meanwhile, alex was across the house and locked away in a bathroom trying to gather his thoughts. why did he have to go and do something so stupid? and why the hell did he like what he saw?

he hated you. and you were stepsiblings for god’s sake!

still, he had an aching hard on and a pounding headache

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 15)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2515 words)

tw: afab reader, infantilization, nonconsensual touches from Cyprus, butchered Spanish,

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 16

She grinned, and so did her son; he was happy to see the beginning of a bond forming with his mother and the woman he planned to wed.

"I should start preparing dinner. Excuse me." His mother walked past you and Cyprus to get to the kitchenette.

Whereas Cyprus went on to usher you to the couches. A large hand guided you by the shoulders to sit on the cushion, it was so soft, that you sunk into it much to your surprise. He then left the living room without a word, entering a doorway that you assume leads to his mother's bedroom.

You looked over at her, she was gathering all the ingredients needed for tonight's meal. It appears beans, tortillas and some fresh vegetables Cyprus bought are on the menu later. She paid you no mind as she brought her crockeries and food processor onto the clean counter.

He returned with two pillows tucked under his arm as he held a folded, pink blanket. Cyprus fluffed your pillow before setting it near the armrest, "Acuéstate." He instructed.

You stared at him, vaguely knowing what he wanted you to do. But you wondered if he had forgotten to switch back to English with you.

"Lay down, that's what it meant." He clarified after a few more seconds of staring. You asked why he didn't just tell you to do that in English.

"I want you to learn my language, mi amor." He tucked you under the blanket, gently stuffing your arms with the other pillow. "I'm sure you knew what I just called you." Your boyfriend smiled, ruffling your hair affectionately.

You grimaced when he kissed you on the cheek with a very audible smooch, he was obviously teasing you, loving how your face would heat up like an inferno out of embarrassment. His mother doesn't seem to mind this public display of affection, though. It's almost as if she's encouraging it.

"Get some rest, I'll be helping my mom out." Cyprus took a long sniff of your hair, greedily inhaling your scent. He reluctantly pried himself away from you in the end.

You asked if you could watch TV, at least. He shook his head. "No, you should take a nap; dormir."

You said that you're fine. It's not like that could kill you.

Cyprus merely rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath in Spanish. You bet it's something about how stubborn you are.

The rest of the afternoon rolled by peacefully, with the mother and son duo chatting away in a language other than what you're used to. The soft clanking of utensils, the bubbling of broth, and the occasional sizzling all served as white noise to you. It felt homely despite your circumstances, it felt cozy. Comfortable enough to let your eyelids droop heavily, to let your mind drift to slumberland.

-

"Mija." His mother's soft voice gradually became clearer as you regained consciousness from your afternoon nap. You groan and rub your eyes, only to have her gently pull your wrists away from you. Cyprus must have told her to stop you from doing that. You couldn't believe that her apartment was comfortable enough for you to fall into a deep sleep.

You greeted her and looked around. All you saw was his mother crouching to the level of her sofa. You then asked where Cyprus is.

"I told him to get me something from the store nearby." Her voice was hushed as if she was trying not to alert her presence. But her smile said otherwise.

You asked her what time it was.

"it's five o'clock, my son will be back in half an hour." She stood up and sat next to you. There was an awkward silence between you and her as you sat up as well, what is there to say? You avoided eye contact with her too, but you heard the rustling of plastic. So you looked at what she's doing.

You didn't notice that she was holding your medication, she was unscrewing the cap of your eyedrops and placing it on a sheet of facial tissue.

"Look up, Mijo." Her hands, there was obvious aging but it's still quite supple and soft. She tried to grab the side of your face so she could apply the drops. However, unnerved by this, you declined and said you could do it yourself. She appeared surprised, but unlike her son, she gave you the bottle without complaint.

Just like a regular, adept adult, you pulled your lower eyelid down and placed a few drops in. You did so efficiently and quickly, clearly not needing anyone to do this for you.

So you asked her what Cyprus had said regarding this. His mother folded her hands on her lap.

"He told me you may need some help."

You replied that you never did, Cyprus is the one insisting that he treats you like a helpless invalid. She nodded sympathetically and stayed silent, you took that as a cue to continue talking. This could be a good time to spill everything about Cyprus, all his horrible behaviors, how he's actually trapping you in this relationship. You hoped that his mother could help you out, she seemed sane enough. But you could never be too sure, so you chose your words carefully to test the waters.

She listened to your rant quietly, all her attention was on you and it seems like she expressed nothing but sympathy for you. Did she expect this from Cyprus? Perhaps she could help you pry him off your case.

You were a bit animated in your talking, feeling the emotions and upset that he had put you through. It was hard to control, but you managed for the sake of winning her favor. You ended the vent without a verbal conclusion or a request for her view on this, you simply stared at her as you waited for a response.

She sighed. "Ah, I..." His mother looked away, almost guiltily. It formed a pit of dread in your stomach, thinking that she wasn't going to be on your side.

She took your hands into hers, enveloping it firmly as she prepared to say her piece. Her piercing grey eyes looked into yours as she parted her lips to speak.

"Mija, I have never seen my son this happy." She began, gulping and darting her eyes all over your face. It appears as if she is finding it hard to express her thoughts. "Cyprus had a bad childhood, his father left us when he was very young. Me and my eldest daughter tried our best to raise him, but I knew it wasn't good enough."

The corners of your mouth is threatening to tug into a deep frown.

"My son is not a bad man. Sometimes he is rude, sometimes he cannot control his anger, but he is not a bad man." Her grip on your hands became tighter, desperate, even.

"He will take care of you, I know he will. I can see that you are his light, and I know you are good for my son." She paused for a moment, maintaining a doleful look. "Please, Mija. You must understand, as a mother, I want nothing but to see my son living the life he deserves. I want to see him happy- Cyprus is a good man, I know he is nothing like his father. He will take care of you, Mija."

You think that she's starting to sound like a broken record, repeating the same handful of words as she tries to convince you to stay with Cyprus.

You told her that you're just one of his temporary girlfriends, and you don't think this relationship will last. You just want to get out sooner and you're sure Cyprus will be fine.

She shook her head. "No, you are very different from the other women Cyprus knew. You are a very nice girl, very respectful and kind. Please stay with him, you are good for my son." It was getting harder and harder to look at her pleading face.

You pulled your hands away from hers, feeling uncomfortable at her desperation. You gave up trying to reason with her, she isn't going to help you at all. If anything, you think she will just make your life miserable.

You ended the conversation by telling her you would think about it. But it looks like she isn't done, as she stays in place and stares at you, prompting you to talk again.

You asked her if Cyprus usually heed her warnings or advice.

"My son has a very... strong personality. Sometimes stubborn, but his heart is big. You are very important to him, Cyprus will listen to you if you can talk to him properly." You noted how she avoided answering the question.

You asked her what she meant by 'properly'. It appeared to catch her off guard, as she stammered a bit before formulating a response.

"Ah... don't shout at him, don't say bad things--"

You cut her off and asked her again, if Cyprus listens to her.

She sighed in defeat, "No. It is very difficult for me or his sister to talk to him."

Having his mother change his behavior is out of the question.

"But he will listen to you!" She grabbed you by the arm, her neatly manicured fingers sinking into your flesh. "His eyes are full of love when he looks at you, I know he will do anything to make you happy."

You doubt his mother's beliefs. But you didn't verbally express it, your opinion may have shown itself on your face, though.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the jiggling of the doorknob stole her attention away, She immediately released your limb and folded her hands on her lap. Surely enough, the front door unlocked and swung open to reveal Cyprus with a case of beer cans in one arm and a brown paper bag in the other.

He grinned widely when his grey eyes landed on you. "Had a good nap, princess?" Cyprus made his way to the living area, placing his items on the coffee table in front of you, as he was itching to hold you again. His mother stood up and went ahead to lock the door behind him. She then brought the items elsewhere, to give you and him some privacy.

He sat next to you and forcefully pulled you into his lap despite your protests and thrashing, he wore his glasses on the top of his head so it wouldn't get in the way. Cyprus then silenced you by peppering kisses all over your face, you couldn't turn your head away either as his lips would assault your neck. His arms caged you in, so there was no escape from his affections. No amount of whining would stop him from laughing and teasing you with such sensual yet strong touches.

"Bésame." He mumbled. You repeated the word quizzingly. And that was met with another barrage of kisses. Spluttering, you managed to push his head away from you.

You demanded to know what that word was.

"You have to be more specific, Mi Princesa." He pinched you on the cheek. To which, you swatted his hand away.

You said the word "Bésame", you wanted to know what that meant. Only to have him pull you into a deep kiss on the lips. The tips of your ears are getting warm as you realize that Cyprus is doing all these embarrassing displays in his mother's home, probably right in front of his mother too. Has he no shame? He must derive some pleasure from humiliating you like this.

Eventually, he lets you go, allowing you to finally fill your lungs with air again. He chuckled and kissed your forehead, cuddling you like a beloved stuffed bear. "What do you think it meant, baby?"

You said you don't know, and you would appreciate it greatly if he would just be direct. It made him playfully roll his eyes at you. "You're boring. It meant "kiss me"."

You told him that you're not using that word ever.

"What word?" A smirk plastered itself on his handsome face.

You clarified which word you meant: Bésame, but you realized you fell into his trap and braced for a kiss that inevitably came. This time, it's much calmer and quieter. His eyes were fully closed in bliss with his long, fluttery eyelashes tickling your skin. His soft, plush lips molded perfectly with yours.

You whacked him on the chest with your fists, he wouldn't let you go until he thought you were about to pass out from oxygen deprivation.

He laughed heartily when he saw you catching your breath. "Eres tan tierno..." Cyprus cooed, caressing the side of your face and brushing stray strands away. "Do you know what that means?" You lied and said yes so he would stop bothering you further.

"Did mom give you eye drops?" He asked. You nodded as you allowed him to examine your eyes.

"You're getting better-" He was interrupted by a knock on the door. The room became deathly silent as he froze, unblinkingly waiting for further response. Eventually, another knock came, this time it was louder than the last. His mother left her hiding place too, confused as to what or who might be outside her door. The mother and son knew that this wasn't necessarily a safe area.

"¿Esperas invitados esta noche, mamá?" He asked his mother. She shook her head.

He merely shrugged and went back to doting on you, ignoring the incessant knocking while his mother looked increasingly worried. You asked if he should handle it.

"Later." He nonchalantly replied, he shared a look with his mother, who told him something in Spanish. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, go freshen up." Cyprus urged you in the direction of the bathroom, you could tell that he was actually trying to hide you from whatever confrontation was about to occur.

Regardless, you went into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, pretended to use the facilities by turning the tap on, and let the crisp, cold water run. Thinking it's somewhat wasteful, you decided to use it to wash your face.

A few minutes later, you heard the door opening and the knocking stopped. You picked up on hushed talking that escalated to unintelligible yelling from the stranger. You're sure that they're all speaking in English, but the door and walls are surprisingly thick enough to absorb most of the noises. It sounded like a mess that you would rather not get into, and you don't think that you can handle any more social interaction for the day. If it wasn't for Cyprus, you wouldn't have left your room at all today.

However, you were curious and whatever lies behind the door is killing you. Maybe... Cyprus could protect you if there is danger?

You scratched the back of your head and stared at yourself in the mirror.

[pixiesfz]

do u have to kill me w the jessie angst

yes.

game on j.f

plot: You and Jessie play eachother for the first warnings: angst, injury part four of this

warnings: angst, injury

You were now lined up in your respective teams, ready to go on and take your team photo before the game started.

“you ready?” Lauren asked you as you were told you were going to play the full 90 “Yeah” you answered her as you tried to pull the memory of your conversation with Christine away.

“Do your thing, we haven’t had a gem like you come across us in a while” she smiled and you smiled back “Thanks Lozza” You rested your head on her shoulder, ignoring the feeling of someone watching you.

When the game was about to start you walked over to your position next to Jessie “Ready?” she asked you as she tied her laces which you predicted was about the third time that she retied them today “Yeah you?” you asked the girl nodded her head “yep”.

The conversation was cold, you both knew it but unbeknownst to you Jessie was angry.

She was pissed.

You told her you didn’t love her, broke her heart and now you wanted her again.

You confused her and now she’s angry.

She’s angry that you’re here. Why? Couldn’t you have just stayed in London?

But the siren played before she could accidentally snap by just looking at you.

You knew how Jessie played and used it to your advantage, leading you to assist a goal in the twelfth minute. But you didn’t know that Jessie would start to play dirty in the 85th minute.

You had the ball, dribbling it down the wing before a leg hit your right ankle from the side causing you to yelp out in pain and jump meaning when you landed, you landed hard on your side, knocking the wind out of you.

Jessie got up in shock “y/n?” she asked and you rolled on your side “Can’t breathe” you stuttered before your teammates ran to you, Lauren who had been subbed on pushed Jessie away as she turned her head to try and get a good look at you.

“Jessie just leave” Lauren eventually said with a stern look as the Canadian was backed into another one of her teammates.

It took a second for you to regain your breath as the medics came to check on your ankle. “Is it broken?” you asked, a tear falling down your face in fear that you would be out for weeks” The medic crossed his head and you sighed in relief “sprained but you can’t play” he instructed and you nodded in agreement “you couldn’t pressure yourself into getting even more injured.

“Help me” you instructed to two girls next to you who helped you up. “get better y/n” they all said as you started to walk off with a limp, some people in the crowd applauding you as you walked down the tunnel.

You watched on the TV in the doctors room as the Portland thorns gained a goal by Jessie but she didn’t celebrate as her teammates piled on top of her. Portland thorns win 2 – 1.

After the game some of your teammates came in to check on you, Lauren promising to get you Pizza as she walked out.

But as you laid down on the table, the ice pack on your foot almost melted completely the door opened again.

You propped up on your elbows to see the woman who put you here in the first place. Bitterly you frowned “congrats on the win” you deadpanned and laid back down.

“I didn’t mean to tackle you that hard” Jessie said and you rolled your eyes propping yourself back up “Jessie I’ve been watching you play for three years, you know how to tackle and you know how to tackle clean” you told her and she sat down on a chair near the door “I’m sorry” was all she said again before silence took over.

“Why’d you do it?”

Jessie looked at you as you staired up to the ceiling “what?” she asked “Why’d you tackle me so hard?” you asked again “I don’t know” she stated “yes you do” you told her before lifting your body up so you’re both forced to look at each other.

“I-“ she started, running her hand through her showered hair which was slicked back, a hairstyle you would always run your fingers through to make her feel better after a rough game.

“spit it out” you demanded and the girl looked down “Why are you being mean?” she asked defensively “Oh I’m sorry are you the one who’s out for 6 weeks” you responded outraged that she’d even turn the situation around.

“Oh because you’re so innocent” Jessie shrugged and you raised your brows “excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon” Jessie groaned “I heard you talking to Christine before the game” she said and you looked down.

Oh shit.

“What do you mean ask me on a date?” she asked with anger as she stood up in anger “Jessie” you said softly “no” she cut you off “you said you didn’t love me, you broke me why?” she said, her emotions spilling over as a tear fell down your cheek, but you were mad as well, she injured you.

You propelled yourself off the seat, whimpering as your foot hit the ground “Y/n your injured stop-“ she said softly as you limped to her “No, you wanna know why I did what I did” you said, stepping closer as she stayed still.

You took her silence as a yes.

“I loved you Jessie, I really did that’s why” you stated and you saw her eyes gloss over “That makes no sense” she whispered and you rolled your eyes “You were unhappy at Chelsea, you deserved more and if you didn’t leave I- I would’ve been holding you back so I lied. I told you I didn’t love you because I loved you so much to let you go” You finished as you squeezed your face in pain by putting pressure on your ankle.

“You got it now?”

Jessie looked down at the floor in silence, your anxiety taking over you. “Jessie please say something” you begged “Jessie please-“

But you were cut off as her lips found yours...

[bosbas]

Chapter 7: you search in every maiden's bed for something greater

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, misogyny (not by anyone relevant dw), idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, mentions of sex and drinking

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: errr.... it's going to get worse before it gets better. sorry in advance

June 19, 1814 - Perhaps word of this author's disappointment by the ton's lack of happenings has reached Bridgerton ears. Whispers around the ton indicate that Mr. Benedict Bridgerton has been packing his belongings for an extended duration, leading one to speculate if this departure is more than a fleeting journey. The observant eyes of society are left to wonder about the purpose behind such preparations and whether, in the midst of packing, the second Bidgerton son is inadvertently leaving behind not only his material possessions but also a potential union with a certain Miss Beaumont.

Benedict was just about done packing, disappointed that his upcoming trip had been pointed out in the ton's gossip column. He was hoping to slip out relatively quietly, not needing further speculation on why he was leaving you, an undoubted topic of conversation for Lady Whistledown. The very reason he was leaving was for your sake, and he didn't want anyone making his own absence harder for you. 

The past days had been nothing short of agonizing for more than a few reasons. Ben knew his mother was disappointed in him for leaving, not immune to her sad stares and soft sighs, but he just couldn't go on like this. If he ignored his feelings, he knew he wanted you to find a husband, just as you had asked him to let you do. But he couldn't ignore his feelings. Not entirely, at least. Benedict was going half insane watching you dance with eager suitors and hearing you talk about the exotic and beautiful bouquets you had later received from them. He could barely sleep, plagued by thoughts of someone else making you laugh, and the dull ache in his chest had become a permanent fixture. 

His art studio felt cold and empty now, rarely graced by your warm and lively presence. Ben couldn't find it in himself to spend the hours he used to in there, missing your animated commentary as you read whichever book you had taken from the Bridgerton library that day. He had barely been able to paint at all recently, inside or outside his studio, frustrated that every single sketch or painting he started was in some manner related to you. Worse, he found he had little to no inspiration for new works without you by his side. Every single aspect of his life was completely turned upside down by your absence. Even the moon looked different. He could not look at the stars at night without remembering how your eyes looked at night, reflecting the soft starlight in the sky. 

So he was leaving. Perhaps it was a cowardly thing to do, but Benedict was desperate to regain some sense of normalcy in his life. He knew he couldn't have you, but he couldn't watch someone else have you, either. The only viable choice he saw was to go away, back to the countryside. Of course, his family saw right through his weak excuse of "needing time away to work on his art," but at least no one had the sense to confront him about it. Yet still, the truth lingered in the look of pity he received from Anthony and Colin and the quietly exasperated "Are you joking?" he heard Francesca whisper to Hyacinth. 

Ben had come to see you a few days ago and broken the news, and you had barely been able to concentrate since. Even though you had established some distance from your best friend, you still relished in the comfort of his nearby presence. You knew that even if you had a dreadful dance at a ball, one quick smile from Ben could immediately heal your stepped-on feet and put you in a better mood. 

But you supposed him leaving was for the best. At the moment, you weren't seriously considering any suitors yet. No longer having Benedict by your side might end up being more beneficial to you, even if your eyes were constantly filled with unshed tears and your lower lip was raw from nervous biting at the thought of him away in the country for months on end. You supposed you would have to move on from him, laying your feelings to rest. That was the whole point, was it not? Benedict would leave, and you would stop wishing every man you talked to was him. 

You were in your garden now, hiding in your usual spot behind the rose bushes with your nose stuck in a book in an attempt to evade your mother's call to practice your needlepoint. With Benedict leaving tomorrow, you reasoned that you should be excused from mind-numbing activities such as sewing due to your emotional distress. Unfortunately, your mother did not share this opinion, and you were forced into hiding to escape her demands. 

Hearing footsteps coming your way, you shrunk further behind the bushes, hoping you hadn't been caught and could spare another five minutes of peace. 

"Y/N Beaumont, come out of there this instant. You cannot simply avoid me when you don't want to play the pianoforte," came Benedict's voice from above you, taking on a high-pitched voice as he attempted to imitate your mother when she was frustrated with her children. You instantly relaxed, bursting into laughter.

"You are so evil! I thought I had actually been caught out. Although my mother wants me to practice needlepoint instead of pianoforte this time," you said as you rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his arm as he sat beside you. 

Ben laughed, shaking his head and snatching your book from your hands, leafing through it absentmindedly. "Hmmm, I figured it was something like that. I came into your house and saw the Countess quite exasperated, asking me if I knew where you were hiding," he said. Seeing your widening eyes, he quickly continued, "Oh, but don't worry. I would never betray you like that. The rose bush stays between us."

"Well, since you're leaving tomorrow, you very well could have revealed the hiding spot and escaped an untimely death," you retorted. Although you meant it as a joke, you couldn't help the break in your voice as you took in the reality of Benedict leaving for the countryside. You wrapped your arms around one of his, resting your head on his shoulder. You were breaking every rule you had established for your friendship, but you didn't care anymore.

Sighing deeply, Benedict placed his hand on top of yours. He could easily sense the pain behind your playful dig and couldn't help feeling the same way. Not finding the strength to continue the faux-playful exchange, Ben simply placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. "Either way, I could never. You're still my best friend. Always have been, always will be, Y/N Beaumont." 

You could feel a wave of tears welling in your eyes, starting to flow as you softly said your next words. "I know. I'm going to miss you, Benedict Bridgerton."

He looked down at you, feeling a fondness so fierce he felt the prickling of tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat, wanting desperately to end this chapter of your lives on a good note. He grabbed your hands and stood you up so you were facing him. He could barely stand the sight of your tear-stained face, beautiful as ever despite your reddened eyes. A few quiet moments passed between you, both of you attempting to regain composure, but the pain of losing the other made it entirely impossible. 

He was still holding on to your hands, thumbs rubbing softly up and down in the way he had always done. But this time, they did not bring you comfort. Instead, you burst into tears, closing the short distance between you and sobbing into his chest, not caring that your tears might ruin his clothes. To be loved was to be changed, after all, and God did you love him.

Wrapping his arms tightly around you as you sobbed, Benedict was at a loss. He couldn't fathom what life would be like after you, barely remembering what it had been before you. To willingly walk away from this, from you in his arms, from your shared intimacy, from the unbreakable bond the two of you had formed over two decades... he had to be insane. Yet he had no choice, as the past few weeks had shown. All Ben could do was rub a comforting hand on your back as you cried, murmuring sweet nothings in an effort to alleviate the excruciating pain he knew you were feeling as well. 

Finally, he spoke. "I'm going to miss you more, Y/N. And I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to end like this. I never wanted it to end at all, actually." 

Feeling another kiss at the top of your head, you lifted your head to look him in the eyes. You were no longer sobbing, just sniffling as tears ran down your face. "Me neither," you choked out, eyes still on him. You wanted to take in as much of him as you could before he left. You wanted his face burned into your mind forever, leaving a permanent mark you could never get rid of. 

As you sniffled again, you felt him pull you into his chest, hearing him say softly, "It's going to be alright, darling." He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, pulling you back again to look you in the eyes. He then followed a delicate trail, pressing soft kisses between your furrowed brows, on the tip of your nose, and along the tear-streaked canvas of your cheeks. Then, hesitantly, he reached your lips. 

His eyes were intense, heavy with emotion, as you felt his lips hovering above yours. You had never been kissed before, but you would so easily forgo social norms if he just closed the distance between you. You were inches apart, breath intermingling, eyes boring into each other. You could feel the palpable electricity between you, a mix of fear and familiarity. In that suspended moment, your heart beating with his, anticipation hung thick in the air. You were about to cross a precipice of intimacy you never had before, finally acting on the pressure that had been building for years. You wanted him so badly, and you could tell he wanted you, too. At least right now. Desire was running through you in a way it never had before, and you wondered whether the sort of itch you were feeling right now was the same one Ben talked about when he explained the night of the marriage. Is this the itch that would be scratched? You understood what he meant now, needing him so desperately to touch his lips to yours, to bring you the relief you sought in him. Benedict moved a fraction of an inch closer to you, and you drew your breath in anticipation, lips forming into a smile. 

Yet suddenly, Benedict groaned and abruptly withdrew as if an unseen force compelled him to sever the burgeoning connection. Pushing you away in more senses than one, he roughly rubbed his face with his hands. You could tell he was in a state of complete panic. Hurt and confused, you watched him rub his eyes frustratedly, refusing to meet your gaze.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he stammered, a haunted look in his eyes betraying the fear of losing all the meticulously constructed defenses he had placed between you. "I don't know what came over me. That was so not right. I just—" His words stumbled, a confession hanging unspoken in the charged air between you.

You couldn't stop yourself from flinching, understanding the implications of his words. You supposed it should never have been like this. The two of you were best friends, after all. But you were desperate for him to look at you and give away some of what he was thinking, needing any sort of reassurance, so you reached out, softly gripping his bicep. "It's alright, Ben. I know you didn't—"

But he cut you off, his head shaking in fervent denial, avoiding your pleading eyes. "No, it's not. I'm sorry. Look, I should go; I still need to finish packing. But I'll come by early tomorrow morning to say goodbye if you're awake."

Without granting you a lingering look, he turned away, leaving you alone in the garden where you had played together as children, where your friendship had once blossomed. Tears ran unobstructed down your cheeks, and your heart broke cleanly in two. 

---

You found yourself promenading alongside Mr Henri Deschamps in Hyde Park once again, politely nodding every time he looked to you for reassurance that his talk about hunting was not, in fact, the most boring thing you had ever heard in your life. And it wasn't, but you were inclined to think that it was pretty close. Nevertheless, you liked Mr Deschamps more than most other suitors, enjoying the philosophical debates the two of you would sometimes engage in. 

Henri was from France but had come to England with his younger sister to see her married off last season. Although he was successful in this endeavor, he liked England so much that he chose to stay and find a wife for himself. Still, you were a tad fearful that Henri would want to return to France when, and if, the two of you were married. He had been courting you for a short time, only a couple of weeks. Still, you were careful in expressing your desire and taking it slow, despite thinking that you would probably end up marrying him if all kept going the same way it was now. 

All things considered, Mr Deschamps was an adequate match for you. He was intellectually stimulating at times, came from a good background to be able to provide for you, and he wasn't bad-looking either. Besides, his accent was fun to listen to even when his words were not. It had been nearly three weeks since Benedict had left for the country, and though you missed him terribly, you were having a much easier time actually thinking of your suitors as potential husbands instead of fun ways to pass time before you spoke to Ben next. 

Hearing Henri mention something related to a book you were currently reading, you perked up, excited. "Actually, I read that—" you started, only to be interrupted by the man at your side. 

"Ah, of course, you read this, you read that. When does it stop, Miss Beaumont? You are always reading something. Men do not want this. We want an obedient wife who will not cause us any more stress than we have in life. We want a wife who will give us heirs quickly and who will listen to what we say," came Mr Deschamps' interjection. You were stunned, frozen in your spot, but he grabbed your arm and continued speaking as he dragged you with him. 

"Men do not want a woman who is smarter than them, Miss Beaumont. How about you stick to your good qualities, oui? You are very beautiful, but no one will ever marry you if you keep discussing books. No one wants to hear about books," he finished, sending you a pointed look.

You could barely believe what you were hearing. "But—," you tried, only to be interrupted by Mr Deschamps once again. 

"But— But— But—," he mocked cruelly. "But nothing, Miss Beaumont. This is the truth, yet you still argue with me. It is the same in France as it is here: women should not argue with men. You would do well to remember that." 

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp, appalled by his egregious behavior. He rolled his eyes at your reaction, turning around and throwing his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated. You angrily stared after him as your mother, who had been walking a few paces behind the two of you, caught up. 

"What in the world was that? I cannot believe he spoke to you in such a disrespectful manner and in front of everyone, at that," she exclaimed, fuming. Clearly, she had heard at least some of your conversation. You could only shake your head in disbelief, still reeling from Henri's sudden outburst. He had effectively squashed your hopes of ever finding an appropriate husband in under three minutes. It would have been impressive if it didn't leave you so hopeless.

---

Far from the hubbub of the city, Benedict lay in his messy bed, staring at the now-empty spot beside him, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through his half-open curtains. With ever-deepening bags under his eyes and a dwindling excitement about life, he grappled with a reality he never thought he would confront. The echoes of your shared dreams from your youthful days mocked him, a poignant reminder of a time when marriage felt like a distant concept.

This had become somewhat of a routine by now. Benedict had taken to finding solace in the arms of various women, seeking momentary distraction from the ache in his heart. With each encounter, it became glaringly evident that physical intimacy offered no relief from the unending yearning he felt for you and your friendship, forever changed by his choices. 

Loneliness enveloped him each time the women left, a feeling he had become all too familiar with in the past few weeks. He barely slept, opting instead to imagine your life back in the city, full of exciting balls and surrounded by the warmth of your family. And his, he supposed. But most of all, he couldn't help the painful thoughts of you with another man, discussing your favorite books, or forming inside jokes with one another. 

He was comforted only by the fact that he had not yet received a wedding invitation. Surely Benedict would have been invited to the momentous occasion had you finally found someone to spend forever with. However, the comfort he felt from this was significantly overshadowed by the implications of your inevitable wedding. One last goodbye. A proper goodbye, this time. Here, in the countryside, he could theoretically return to you anytime. But once you were married, you would be gone forever, and the wanting he felt now would only multiply, consuming him entirely. 

In the quiet hours before dawn, he often wondered if the past could be revisited, a past where the two of you made plans to get married. The idea of a marriage where he was free to pursue his artistic endeavors and you continued your literary pursuits lingered in his thoughts every single night. It seemed that he was only interested in marriage if it was an arrangement similar to the one you had dreamt up as children, and the chances of attaining that were slim to none. Benedict found himself yearning for a simplicity that had been lost in the complexities of adulthood. With you married off, he would have to find a wife eventually. But perhaps he did not want to marry at all. Maybe he would stay a bachelor, making vows to his art rather than a woman he knew could never compare to you. 

For now, he continued his escapades. In the long run, he was not confident that this would help him forget you or forget the fierce love you inspired in him, but he was desperate for any way to stop thinking about you, if only for a few hours. So he indulged, going to raucous gatherings, mainly populated by artists. People used their canvases at these parties as a means of liberation, but he only used them to mask his true feelings. He could momentarily quiet his mind, painting and dancing and drinking before he eventually came crashing down to reality. 

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld

[gothic-thoughts]

Joined At The Hip

(For anyone who already read this, "part 2" was added on instead 😗)

König x Black Fem Reader Angst

DarkFicWarning

CW: Konig saves you from your captors and comforts you after, 3rd person and 2nd person pov, some German, showering together

TW: ransom kidnapping, tied up and gagged, guns mention, violence mention, animal death mention, anxiety/crying

Word Count: 2685 (give or take)

Any and all German translated by DeepL

“Colonel!” 

The towering man turns back, looking over his shoulder to see the soldier running towards him from down the hall. He folds his arms across his chest, the muscles of his forearms flexing beneath the sleeve of his uniform. He steps a little closer to wait until the soldier stops before him, huffing. 

“Sir.”

“Soldier.”

“We were just sent a video of an abducted woman.”

König's eyebrows furrow in surprise. “Show me.”

“We don't know her sir, but—”

“I didn’t ask, I said, show me.”

The soldier leads him to the conference room and plays the video. It was only 15 seconds of his girlfriend in baggy clothes that weren't hers while tied to a chair and gagged, the sight causing his chest and stomach to burn with wrath despite his eyes falling cold and emotionless. A gloved hand came into the frame, holding a pistol and pressing the barrel to her temple lightly to make her cry some more before holding up a sign to the camera that read, ‘₤500,000’.

Colonel König's fists clenched so hard his gloves squeaked, alerting the other soldier to look down at the fist before back up to the back of his head nervously, unaware of the cold fury in his eyes.

“How did they know about her...?” He whispered, albeit calmly.

“What, sir?”

He looks at the soldier, his gaze piercing and devoid of emotion. “I said how old is this?”

“2 hours, sir.”

“Woher?”

“Abandoned building just outside Milan; should I get the assault team read—”

“Nein.” He turns back to the looping video on the projector, “Three men and a chopper.”

“Three? Sir, that’s—”

“Sie haben Ihre Befehle (You have your orders). Und Gott helfe Ihnen, wenn ich mich wiederholen muss (And god help you if I have to repeat myself).”

The soldier runs out of the room, leaving his Colonel to watch the video over and over, the image of (Y/n) crying with a gun barrel to her head permanently staining his mind— he knew even when, not if, when he saved her he would still be scarred. He takes a deep breath to try and center himself, knowing he would save her and knowing those men will get what they deserve. It was the two things keeping him calm as he stood there and waited for the soldiers and helicopter to be ready.

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5 Hours Later

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You hear bones cracking, gunfire, and the terrified yelps and screams of men just outside the room you were being held in. You whimper with fear and confusion, sounds muffled by the gag in your teeth, unaware that König was both indirectly and directly the cause, meanwhile, the only pity in his mind was at the possibility of how much you were hearing and how terrified you must be. Finally, he reaches a door and presses his ear to it to listen to your muffled crying.

Meanwhile, you were in the room, hearing the deafening silence of the threat at the door, and begin to squirm and rock in the chair you were tied to until it fell on its side, making you whine at the pain in your shoulder right before the door flies open, the sound of wood splintering and metal hinges being ripped off filling the room as a bloody boot kicks the door in. He steps in, bloody gloves gripping his assault rifle tightly as it scans the room. Happy noises bleed through the ball of dry cloth in your mouth as you call out.

“König~!”

His eyes quickly land on you, tied up and on your side, and finally regain their life, softening as a wave of relief washes over him. He lowers his gun as he approaches you, his steps slow and deliberate until he kneels beside you, examining your body for any injuries. He carefully places a bloodied hand on your cheek, trying to reassure you to which you nuzzle his hand as tears pour from your eyes.

“Shh, bleib ruhig (stay calm), ich habe dich (I have you).” He carefully pulls the gag from your mouth, “I'm here.”

His bloody fingers gently wipe the tears away as best he can, leaving streaks of the combined fluids across your cheeks. He moves behind you, his fingers working to untie the rope that holds you in place— first your wrists then your ankles, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, and once the final knot is undone he pulls you up and holds your head to his chest, the sound of your sobs like a knife in his heart. 

You hug him back impossibly tighter without a single care about the amount of blood splattered all over his clothes or the tactical vest against your face, why would you? But despite your hero being here to take you home, your legs wobble from the amount of adrenaline still rushing through you, leading him to instinctively scoop you up in his arms as he stands up.

“Einfach (easy), I've got you now. Ich bin hier (I’m here).”

“I-I thought you weren't gonna find me... I thought--”

“Nein. I would have looked until the end of time to find you. I would have torn down every structure in this country to find you.”

He starts towards the door, his arms holding you close. König keeps a tight hold on you as he walks, and he can feel the tension in your body start to loosen slightly as you try to calm down— he can't help but feel a flicker of pride at the strength you're showing even in this situation. You tighten your arms and legs around him, burying your distressed face in his neck and he doesn’t miss a beat, shifting his grip to better support your weight, the muscles of his arms holding you secure.

“Ich werde immer da sein, um dich zu beschützen.”

You sniffle against his neck, “W-what?”

“Sorry, I said, I will always be here to protect you.”

“They dragged me out the shower a-and put me in a truck and... and..”

“Shh, shh... Atmen, Schatz, breathe.” He whispers, rubbing your back, “We’ll discuss it later, alright? Just focus on my breathing, can you do that?”

“Sorry...” You lift your face from his shoulder, “There were j-just so many of--”

You gasp softly. König glances down at you, wondering why you stopped talking then follows your gaze to the carnage he was so casually stepping through. There was blood splattered everywhere and dead bodies everywhere else, displaying the variety of ways your kidnappers met their ends: shot, stabbed, crushed... broken. König doesn’t say a word; he’s not ashamed, just concerned about your psyche after seeing the aftermath of his rage. He angles your body slightly so that you can't see the carnage as he carries you out of the building.

“Schatz, you should put your face back in—”

“Where’s your team...?”

“I...” He sighs, “I only brought 3 men.”

“Why...? And wh-where are they?”

“Two watched the sides and one made sure nobody escaped out the back.”

König’s heart started to sink at even the notion that you thought he was a mindless monster... a threat to anyone and everyone as soon as he was angry enough. But he nearly stopped in his tracks when he felt you hug your arms around his neck even tighter, your unconditional gratitude making his heart skip a beat. He glances down at you, his eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath his usual gruffness.

“You're welcome, Liebe.”

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Back At The Base

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Right after he was reprimanded for not following protocol, Colonel König made sure you had been seen by the medical team, but once he was satisfied that you were physically alright, he was not leaving your side again. Now you were curled up on the bunk in his private room, still clearly shaken from everything that you went through.

König sits on the edge of the bunk, his eyes watching your every shudder as if he were afraid that you would disappear if his gaze broke contact with you. His expression is guarded, but his eyes are soft with concern. And you feel it. It weighs on you menacingly despite his intentions. You finally sit up and look over at him to see the glare in his eyeholes, a chill running up your spine.

“König...”

He snaps out of it and shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“I'm sorry if I--”

“No, no. Never apologize, it's never your fault for this. But I need you to be honest with me, alright? I need you to tell me everything that happened.”

You nod shakily, crawling across his bed to sit next to him, just to avoid eye contact. 

“W-well... Remember when I texted you? Right after that I made something to eat, watched some tv and then I took a shower to wash my hair. A-and...”

You start to tear up again, nibbling on your lip shortly before König uses his thumb to guide your bottom lip from between your teeth with a soft shushing.

“I’m right here, and it’s over. They’ll never get you again, they’ll never touch you again. You won’t leave this room until I know you’re safe. Ja?”

You nod slowly, choking up sobs, “I-I know, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you are being so strong, Schatz. Continue for me, please.”

“I heard shuffling around but I thought it was my cat...” You sniffle, “Then they kicked down the bathroom door and ripped my curtain down. They tossed a towel at me, grabbed my arm and pulled me out the bathroom, pulling me to the front door.”

König could feel the anger building inside him again, his fists and jaw clenched so tightly it was painful. He tries to hold back his emotions by wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to his chest, but it is overtly obvious that he's struggling to maintain his composure, especially when you start crying before your next words come out.

“They killed my cat...” You choke out against his vest, your voice utterly broken, “My house was a mess, like they were looking for something. A-all I had on was a towel and I was c-cold and scared.”

He holds you tighter, “You're safe now. I'm here.”

“They put a bag over my head in a car then shoved me onto a plane and gave me...” You gesture to the baggy clothes practically hanging off of your body, “...These and then I was tied up and gagged and— I didn't think you'd come for me.”

He pulls back slightly to look down at your wet, pained face. “There is nothing in this world that could keep me from coming to find you— nichts, Liebe.”

“They told me you wouldn't come for me b-because I would be a distraction.”

“Yes, you are. You are the greatest distraction I have ever had and you will always come first. You hear me? Immer (Always).”

“You promise?”

“Yes. I swear on my life, heart and soul, Liebe. I swear on all of it.” He lifts a hand and gently cups your cheek, “You're safe now, Liebe. I won't let anyone get you ever again.”

You sniffle, smiling through tears as you nuzzle his bare palm, still traumatized but overall reassured. The memory of the massacre in that building was a weird kind of reassurance to you that even if he somehow broke his promise and someone got to you, your abductors wouldn’t survive. After taking a deep breath, you look up at him, blinking excess tears from your eyes as bask in his comforting presence.

“Can I... I wanna get out of these clothes and shower, Kö.”

“Of course, you can wear my stuff. I'll get you a towel. Warte hier (Wait here).” 

He rises from the bed, going to the other side of the room briefly. A few minutes later, he returns with a fresh towel and a stack of his clothes cradled in his arms.

“Oooh army clothes~”

König chuckles softly, “Ja, they're a bit big, of course but they're warm. And also smell like me, heheh.” He sets the stack of fabric down beside you, “Do you want me to... leave while you shower?”

“No! I mean, no. Can you actually shower with me...?”

König is taken aback by her sudden request, his eyes widening with surprise and desire. He clears his throat, pushing the thoughts that swarmed his mind to the side to remind himself that this was supposed to comfort her. 

“You don't have to, its okay; never mind. I got it.”

He instantly shakes his head, his desire disappearing as he steps closer. “No, wait, I... I just thought you would want to shower in peace after all you’ve been through.”

“Yeah, I know, but last time I went to shower alone--"

“Say no more, then. Let’s go.”

“You will?”

“Of course. Be warned, my shower is... a little small, especially for me so I may be very close.”

She smiles, “Good.”

His eyes soften as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing the soft, dark skin with his thumb. In the shower, you faced the water with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as the water poured over your shoulders, unaware that your giant boyfriend was still silently fuming behind you. He can see the fear and vulnerability in your body language, and it only fuels the protective, possessive feeling that's been simmering inside him ever since he saw that ransom damn video. 

König lets out a deep sigh as he presses his body against you from behind, making you hum softly. His movements pause at the noise before reaching around her to gently pull your arms away from your body, replacing them with his own to securely hold you against his chest. You lean your head against his bare bicep, loving how they tighten around you. König leans down buries his nose in your hair and inhales deeply before planting a kiss on your head.

“I was so worried, Liebling.”

“Really?”

“Ja, natürlich (of course); the thought of losing you...”

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence as the image of you with the gun to your head flashes through his mind again. He squeezes your tightly against him as if trying to convince himself that you're really here in his arms again, safe and sound. You turns around and presses a kiss to his mask where his lips are, making him chuckle a little.

“What was that for?”

“I just... feel bad for thinking you weren't gonna get me.”

He feels his heart pang. “You thought...? Why would you think that?

“Like I said earlier, they told me I was a distraction from your work and also... I don't know— we haven't been dating for long so I was scared. I was panicking and that's what my brain settled on.”

“It’s... It’s not alright; for them to instill that in you, I mean. But you should know I’d come for you. Always. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together.” He reaches down and gently takes your hands, guiding them up to the hem of his sniper hood. “You should have more faith in me than that, Liebling.”

You falter at the gesture, wondering what it means.

“I know...” You say, feeling the fabric of his sniper hood for the first time, “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, I understand that you were scared. Just... don't doubt me like that again, alright?”

You nod and continue to caress the fabric that hid his face.

“Remember when I said this was scary?”

König smirks slightly, “Ja. You said it was "intimidating" if I recall correctly.”

“It is, but it’s the most comforting thing I’ve ever known at this point. And seeing you wearing only it is kinda...hot."

He chuckles to ignore that immediate rush of heat through his body to stay in this intimate moment. He just hopes his body obeys his wishes.

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna X Reader)

This is part of my Royal AU, the first I'm writing for it, there may be inconsistencies between each different fic set within the universe including but not limited to which damn clan does Sukuna belong to, but I'm sure it'll be fine :))

also i hope the family tree kinda makes sense, i can make a separate post showing the different clans and their family trees if needed

Warnings: mentions of an affair, brief mentions of abuse but nothing explicit

Word count: 3.1k

When the boy first showed up everything had been good, a new son had been born into the Itadori clan, the royal family was stronger than ever. This boy threatened to bring all of that down simply by existing. Jin Itadori was not known for his mercy, often ruthlessly leading swathes of knights into battles and leaving none alive, but this boy was no ordinary enemy. His own son, illegitimate, but still his flesh and blood. His wife said nothing when he brought the screaming baby into the nursery that was only meant for one, placing him beside Yuji in his large crib.

Kaori Itadori simply accepted what had been given to her and raised the boy as her own, despite the neglect and clear favoritism shown from Jin to his alleged twin sons. The two were almost identical despite the fact they had different mothers, which was how the lie was able to be carried so easily through their lives. Ryomen knew, he had always known, and he’d hated almost everyone for it. The only people he couldn’t truly even pretend to hate were his adopted brothers, and he let everyone know this vehemently, shirking his duties and often hiding away from elaborate dinner parties or balls he did not want to attend.

Yuji’s heart broke for his brother, and of the five Itadori boys, only the eldest Choso knew of the predicament underlying the twins. The youngest, Eso and Kechizu, were born one after the other, three years apart, with significant health complications and therefore rarely appeared in public. The elder three were fiercely protective, especially Ryomen who’d had a taste of his father’s neglect and despised that Jin had turned it on his youngest sons. None of the three wanted to burden their younger brothers, they’d been told that the pair might not live to become adults, so they had always made sure the boys were well fed and happy.

Ryomen suffered in silence. His teachers could not quell his anger, the best sorcerers warned of his growing cursed energy levels, but nothing was ever done. Nothing really could be done. By the time he turned nineteen he was undoubtedly the strongest of the Itadori boys, and his father was adamantly trying to wed him off to a different kingdom. Ryomen didn’t care, the faster he got out of Khoccadia the better in his opinion. He spent his days training in combat with the knights, including the captains of both the Shadow and Blood units, Megumi Fushiguro, and Takuma Ino.

Megumi Fushiguro interested him, the man was his age, his twin brother’s personal bodyguard, and he had the inherited cursed technique of the Zenin clan, the royal family of a neighbouring kingdom. His unit, aptly named the Shadows, were a small close knit group of Shikigami summoners, led by a wielder of the undisputed king of Shikigami techniques. This made him both an outsider and a refugee, having been forced to prove his loyalty a thousand times over, including regaining the trust of the royal family after his technique was revealed during an attack on the kingdom where he had to unleash his power to protect Yuji.

The other captain, Takuma Ino, wasn’t as interesting or close to him, but still a formidable ally and opponent, having first trained under the royal sorcerer Kento Nanami, before his technique proved to be more useful on a battlefield than overseeing curses. Ryomen often found himself sitting with the pair post-sparring, looking out over the training grounds within the castle walls, and asking himself where he would go if he decided to run. He knew he wouldn’t get far, his cursed energy was much too unique, Nanami would be able to find him with no trouble. His only way out would be this arranged marriage, and he had to be sure it was far far away from here.

This is what eventually lead to Jin Itadori hosting a ball and inviting many of the leaders of nearby nations to attend with their daughters, royal, political, and otherwise. Few invites were sent out past the neighbouring nations, but Ryomen had to be sure, so he had insisted under the cover of lies that his father’s orders had the invitations sent further. When the day of the ball arrived, Ryomen was reluctantly dolled up in a luxurious maroon suit, his hair styled with earrings and cufflinks to match. When he met up with Choso and Yuji, he saw they were dressed similarly to him, but Yuji’s suit is a deep pink and Choso’s a dark purple.

“Don’t we just look a treat,” Ryomen huffed, reaching up and adjusting Yuji’s collar slightly. “They were chosen by mother,” Choso looks away and Ryomen finds himself almost apologising. It wasn’t her fault, she was a victim of the system just as he was, but he shakes it off. “You okay?” Yuji mumbles, giving his brother the same outfit once over. The twins had always known what would make each other look the best, Ryomen let him fuss with his hair a little before swatting his hands away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here so I never have to see him again,” He growls. Choso checks his watch as they approach the upstairs entry to the ballroom, the laughter and chatter behind it dying down as someone announces their arrival.

“I hope you find someone,” Yuji squeezes his hand for a brief moment before Ryomen can pull away or protest, dropping his hand before the door swings open and the three of them are revealed to the eyes below. Choso in the centre with his brothers flanking, there are smiles of all kinds as they descend the stairs. Some genuine, some scheming, others that don’t quite reach the eyes of their owners.

Ryomen Itadori doesn’t get nervous, but in this moment he finds his eyes searching for Kaori Itadori. She returns his gaze from her place on the ballroom throne and nods once. This party is for him, it’s his ticket out of here, and it almost feels to him like she’s lending him her strength. The strength to do what she never could. When the three of them reach the bottom of the stairs, his brothers disperse into the crowd to find dance partners, and Ryomen finds himself alone surveying what he can see. The only clan tattoos he recognises around the edges are those belonging to the Zenin clan, the Gojo clan, the Kamo clan and that of the Creyarean district, which is a political power and not run by a royal or empirical clan.

There are a few tattoos he does not recognise, he assumes from further out on the continent, and one in particular draws his gaze. A kindly looking couple, king and queen, with matching filagree tattoos over their facial features, most prominent on their jawline, cheeks, across the nose and in the centre of their foreheads. No other family has tattoos that bold, the closest in comparison is the Kamo clan with a jagged X over the right eye, and he finds himself curious as to their origins. “Brother! I’d like you to meet someone,” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts into his wandering thoughts and he scoffs, “Leave me alone Yuji,” He grunts, but his brother barges into his space, his mouth right next to his ear as he utters the words that could be Ryomen’s salvation.

“Her family comes from miles away, three kingdoms over!” Yuji hisses. His gaze flits to the girl who stands holding Yuji’s hand, looking like she’s just been dragged at a brisk Itadori walk across half the ballroom (Which she had been). His brother drops her hand as he steps back and presents her, “Allow me to introduce Y/n L/n, of the Iqorian Empire,” Unmarried, she does not bear her parents tattoos, but there are two thick black bands around both her wrists which could be a hint at early clan tattoos that don’t decorate the face.

She curtseys and he feels his demeanour soften slightly, taking her hand which still hovers unsure before her to press a light kiss to the back of it. He keeps his face painfully neutral as he studies her features, her e/c eyes traveling back up to meet his. “Lovely to meet you, Miss L/n, Ryomen Itadori,” He introduces himself politely, though he knows that she must already know who he is, given his brother has a tendency to babble. She uses her free hand to fix her h/c hair before giving him a polite smile, “Some party your parents cooked up, is the potential marriage for diplomatic purposes?” She asks. He clenches his jaw slightly, his gaze scanning the crowd as he instinctively pulls her slightly closer.

His father’s face is dark and sinister, his eyes locked on Ryomen but his mind elsewhere, “You could say that,” He replies, “But I would say it’s freedom,” Her eyes widen and he steels himself, she must be able to sense the years of neglect and abuse on him, he knows he reeks of it, but if she does she doesn’t mention it, “I see,” She murmurs, “Well, would you like to dance?” He looks at her like she’s grown an extra head for a moment, but Yuji punches his side and he blinks, “Yes yes, of course, that would be nice,” His words drift away and he becomes eternally grateful for the dancing lessons Kaori forced him to endure as he leads the girl out into the centre of the dance floor.

The night passes by quicker than he would have liked it to, despite stepping into the ballroom like a caged wolf with the taste of freedom on his tongue. He comes to learn from the girl his brother introduced to him that the royal couple he didn’t recognise, with the outlandish filagree tattoos, are her parents, and he is hooked from that moment on. You of course know there is something he is hiding, but his sudden interest in your clan tattoos brings a soft smile to your face as you look over to your parents. They seem to be overjoyed that you’ve caught the attention of the Itadori son up for grabs, but you know there’s more to it considering the fact that he should be the second in line, and yet is being married out of his family into another.

“I am certain we will be seeing one another again, Miss Y/n,” He murmurs as he presses one last kiss to the back of your hand, his fingers tracing one of the black lines on your wrist. You grab his arm before he can turn away, “Ryomen,” You murmur in response, “Sir, are you in trouble here?” He does not reply, his gaze is hard, but you feel a lack of response is enough for you to fill in the gaps.

He’s not welcome in his family, and you’re determined to get him out and then find out why, even if it means ruining any diplomatic relationship Iqoria could have with Khoccadia. You omit the fears you hold close to your chest when your parents demand to know how your night went, they were watching and already knew you were the only one Ryomen Itadori spent his night with. This is a golden opportunity, he is already well known throughout the continent as the strongest Itadori son, he would be a priceless addition to any family, and nobody else seems to be questioning the fact his father doesn’t seem to want him to stay.

A foolish decision, considering the fact his cursed energy swamped the entire ball from the moment he entered the room, just barely discernible from that of your parent’s royal sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, who came to meet with other royal sorcerers in attendance. You are reunited with Suguru Geto, your personal guard and the Captain of the Iqorian Guards, after conversing with your parents. He escorts you back to the room provided to you within the Itadori’s castle for the night, “I take it the night went well, your highness?” He asks as he follows you in.

You find yourself unable to respond, chewing on your thumbnail as you sit at the dresser, leaning your head on your free hand. Lost in thought you don’t hear him approach until his hand is on your shoulder, “What ails you my lady?” “He’s tormented,” You murmur, “Prince Ryomen, he’s trapped, and something is very wrong with this family,” His face reflected in the mirror is one of soft confusion, and you find you can’t hide anything from him. He’s trained you your whole life, and you trust him sometimes more than you trust your parents, he’s like a second brother to you, “I asked if he was in trouble, and I fear a lack of response or denial is enough to ascertain the danger, I must marry him if he is to survive with his humanity intact,”

Geto frowns and grips your shoulder slightly, “I will call for your maids, this stays between us,” He announces, “Sleep well your highness,” “Where are you going?” “To let your parents know I am in full support of this marriage, he’s incredibly strong after all,” His face is sly as a fox and you find yourself speechless, “He’ll be a great asset if we give him the chance,” Once he is gone you find comfort in the knowledge of his support, thus allowing you to slumber in peace.

When the morning arrives, you find yourself swept up in preparations for the wedding, which you find after questioning the closest maid is to be held that very day. His father must be desperate to get rid of him before he becomes a problem, and you’re more than willing to let Kaori Itadori and her maids along with yours fawn over you and dress you in the finest white dress you’ve ever seen. You’re understandably nervous, your parents dropped by only once that morning to tell you what you already knew about the conversation they shared with Ryomen’s parents, but they also said once the wedding was over you’d be leaving for home almost immediately.

This was, surprisingly, not the most shocking thing you’d heard all morning. It fell just behind the fact that it would be Geto and not your father who would be walking you down the aisle, a few of your closest maids acting as bridesmaids. This is to go along with a Khoccadian custom involving the parents of both spouses, while also incorporating the ‘giving away’ portion from Iqorian marriages. Ryomen’s mother wraps her arms around you quickly outside the throne room before she pushes a bouquet of red roses into your hands, tears in her eyes, “Take care of him,” She whispers, her eyes intense and so full of sadness you think you may cry too. You nod, words escaping you as you turn to the throne room, the music floating out at you different to the wedding music back home.

It dawns on you as the doors open to reveal you to the crowd that you don’t know Ryomen Itadori. You don’t know his favourite food, you don’t know his favourite hobbies, you don’t know what he likes in a partner, you don’t even know what his relationship with his brothers is like. It’s too late to wonder, as you clutch the bouquet in your hand and link your other arm with Geto who has just appeared at your side. His presence helps to calm your nerves, but you’re still antsy as you approach the front of the room where Ryomen waits for you, looking equally antsy but for a different reason.

You know he wants out, and you’re his ticket, you just have to get through the next hour of formalities. The crowd is never truly silent during your ceremony, there’s always a low hum of chatter, but it doesn’t disturb or deter the continuance of the ceremony. You can feel Jin Itadori’s eyes on you almost the entire time and you endeavour to ignore him as best you can, focusing on the feeling of Ryomen’s hands in yours. You take the time before and during vows to study his face, the way he scrunches his nose sometimes or crosses his eyes to make you smile. It works, and he squeezes your hands to add reassurance to the moment, until finally you’re pronounced as husband and wife, and without even a second thought or hesitation he pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re breathless, your hands clutching his biceps, barely hanging onto the threads of your discipline before he pulls you into him for a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He mutters against your ear, kissing the side of your head as the crowd cheers and his words are lost in the cacophony of sounds. You let your eyes speak a thousand words as you meet his gaze, smiling softly before finally speaking, “You’re safe now,” His shoulders relax as the two of you turn to walk back down the aisle. Once out of the throne room, his brothers are there to greet him, and Yuji hugs him tightly, “Brother…” He murmurs, “Don’t forget us, you understand?” He grips the back of Ryomen’s head and presses his forehead to his twins, “Promise me?”

Ryomen blinks sadly, “I’ll come back for you,” He whispers. The two younger boys crowd between the twins and Ryomen holds them, the taller one seems quite physically weak, and the shorter one has not opened his eyes, but he holds them close. “How does Ryomen L/n sound?” He asks softly, “Fitting?” Yuji smiles, “For you? It’s perfect,” Just before the two of you can be whisked away by your maids, he grabs his elder brother’s hand, “Choso,” He forces the man to look him in the eyes, “Look after them, don’t let them end up like him, or me for that matter,” He growls, “Swear on your life,”

Choso nods, “I swear on my life,” Ryomen nods one final time, “I hope we’re all better people when we see each other again,” He says, words meant only for his brothers that you catch while ushering your maids away from the moment. His hand on your back is the only warning you get before he’s nudging you along the tidal wave of people who head to the main entrance.

A grand exit, the staircase long, carriages await at the bottom, and Ryomen’s freedom. A price paid a thousand times over, a dream finally allowed to come true, and a man desperately clinging to the bare threads of his humanity. The world gives him a lifeline in the form of a girl second in line to her kingdom’s throne, and he finds he remembers why he endured staying alive all those years. His real family, his only family, his brothers - and maybe even revenge.

twins sukuna/itadori lives rent free in my head because of this app so here's my royal spin on it :) I hope you enjoyed

part 2 here!

[little-diable]

The Ghost of Christmas Past – Tommy Shelby

Part 1 of my Christmas Carol series. A big thank you to @notyour-valentine for writing this with me, this was such a grand joy! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy keeps on pushing the reader away, only turning towards her when his nights get lonely, but maybe the visit of somebody from his past will finally manage to rip Tommy out of his state.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, some angst

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (4.6k words)

headerby @deathofpeaceofmind

Series Masterlist

The scent of smoke filled her small bedroom like a poisonous fog, a fog shielding the two lovers from a life that had been anything but kind to them, robbing them of loved ones, robbing them of their sanity, robbing them of their ability to express their emotions without holding back. A downward spiral Tommy and (y/n) had been stuck in for years, finding comfort in her bed whenever the world began to close in on them, forcing them away from the passing by days and weeks they’d go without seeing one another.

She couldn’t remember the moment she had realised that she was in love with Tommy Shelby, well at least not if you’d ask her. But deep down she knew it all too well, the day where she had run into him, soaked through clothes and cold hands, the teenage boy had wordlessly pulled her along, leading her into his home without asking any questions. He had been so gentle with her, a certain kind of gentleness Tommy was now a stranger to. 

“When will you come by on Friday?” Her soft words rang in his ears, a sound that almost reminded him of the sound of shots fired in the distance, a sound so distinct he’d never be able to forget it. Tommy had his chest bare, his eyes focused stoically ahead as he smoked his cigarette. He didn’t meet her eyes, kept ignoring the loving glances she threw his way, half laying on him with her naked body hidden beneath the warm blanket.

“Friday? Why should I come by on Friday?” Tommy felt her freeze, breaths growing shallow, fingertips no longer tracing his stomach. It took (y/n) a few seconds to regain her composure, clearing her throat before she slowly let go, sitting up with the blanket pressed to her chest.

“I mean it’s Christmas day, I just thought we’d maybe spend it together.”  He stubbed out his cigarette, rose to his feet and began to dress himself, almost like he hadn’t picked up on the words (y/n) had just spoken. Her eyes followed his every move, trying to blink away the tears that began to blur her vision, like the rain which had poured down on the day the two had crossed paths for the first time. “Tommy?”

“Why should we spend Christmas together, (y/n)? I will spend it with my family, as I do every year. You know that.” Tommy’s voice had an awfully chilling undertone to it, making goosebumps rise on her skin. Not once had she feared the man with piercing eyes and pale lips, not once had he raised his voice when she was around, but it seemed like today was the day the cards had changed their fate, the die was cast. 

“But–” by now he was fully dressed, back turned to her as their eyes met through the mirror hung on the wall Tommy was turned to. He watched her wipe her tears, unable to stop them from rolling down her cheeks, a sight that left his jaw muscles ticking, biting down the need to soothe the pain he had shot through her system. “You know what, you’re right. How foolish of me.”

No further word was spoken, slowly he turned towards her, nodding at (y/n) before he leaned down to press a kiss to her warm forehead, and without speaking another word, Tommy left the house she was living in behind. The second the sound of her front door falling shut rang in her ears, (y/n) let go of the sob she had tried to keep bottled in.

……

The silence filling his home had an awfully eerie touch to it, a silence Tommy had tried to flee from for the past years, no longer able to be on his own for too long. The nightmares would always catch up with him, robbing him of precious hours of sleep the man desperately needed. He nursed a glass of whisky, eyes closed, fingers holding onto yet another cigarette. (Y/n)’s pained expression filled his mind whenever he closed his eyes, wondering why he had pushed her away once again.

Tommy wasn’t oblivious, he was all too aware of the feelings she fostered deep inside, feelings that left him trembling in fear. Nothing good would happen to those that try to love him, they all ended up six feet under, a risk he wasn’t willing to take with (y/n) – not with her. 

A deep exhale left him as he sunk further into his chair, wondering if yet another sleepless night was awaiting him. He’d never admit it, and yet Tommy felt awfully lonely, without her near, without (y/n)’s voice filling the silence he was trapped in. Whenever he found himself hiding away in his office, his thoughts would catch up with him, forcing him down memory lane without a way out.

He could have sworn that shots were fired nearby, his body trembling in fear, about to disappear beneath earth’s surface, one with the soil he was forced to crawl through. Back then he had been filled with fright, though not the kind he found himself tormented by nowadays. No, back then he had other priorities, other people to care for, not understanding how much (y/n) truly meant to him.

But now he kept digging another tunnel, deeper than those he had crawled through, darker than those he’d see whenever his eyes fell shut. Fuck, she had been his anchor, the antidote to his nightmares, but yet the fear of letting her even closer still managed to push her away, preferring to stay away from her rather than being plagued by worries about her. Whatever grasp she had on his heart, he needed to get away from it, needed to leave her behind  – otherwise he’d go insane, otherwise he’d lose his last drop of sanity.

With one last yawn leaving him, Tommy felt his grasp on reality slip, lured into darkness by the tiredness clinging to his bones. 

……

The first thing Tommy felt was the cold. It crept in through the thickest curtains, the warmest socks and the most sturdy of walls. No blanket, no stone or wood, not even the most expensive of coats, could keep the cold away for long. Perhaps because it never left. Sometimes Tommy thought, it lingered in them, like mist over a lake, only sometimes retreating from burning coals or candles, but never quite leaving. Always waiting for a chance to strike again. By now he was almost sure the cold had found its way inside him too, curling inside him like it curled inside the walls of any place he had ever known. It had lingered in the plain wooden walls of the boat he had been born in, and the painted ones of the wagon that had been passed down generation from generation to find its current resting place in Charlie’s yard. It had always been in the gray walls of Watery Lane. The smoke and steam of the factories could chase away the snow and ice, but never the cold. He even found it in the walls of Arrow House. Or maybe he had brought it here, carrying it with him like all the other trinkets he had collected over his life, the first coin he had ever earned, the first bullet that had ever been dug out of him, a piece of mane from the first horse he had ever called his own. 

Now the cold had stretched out its pale fingers into his joints, making his knees ache as much as his fingers did. The fire must’ve gone out in the night. 

A curse slipped from his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands for some warmth. They were stiff and strained as if he had been riding in the snow for hours. 

If only his dreams were that gentle to him. 

“Did I wake you?” He heard a woman say. 

His head snapped up immediately, searching for the sight of her dark hair, and her even darker eyes. He found her soon, sitting at the edge of the table, a cutting board in front of her. Busy, always busy. That was a good sign. The restlessness was innate to them, Polly said, once their hands stilled, that was when trouble came. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, offering him a half smile as she brushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “Do you like the sound of that? A Christmas surprise to make it extra special?”

His mouth went dry as he looked at her. He knew her. He knew the shade of her apron and could place each spot where it had been darned with greater certainty than he could place English cities on a map. He knew the curl of the shorter strands of her hair whenever she was out in the rain, or cooking with steam, the ones that framed her face. He knew that her fingernails, even if he could not see them now, would be bitten down all the way. 

Yes, Christmas was always special. It had to be special. 

Travellers didn’t like registries. Most didn’t know the dates of their birth, some not even the month. But Christmas was the same day every year. Christmas was the day when they could be sure to celebrate on the right one. And they did. In the good years, at least. 

“Look, Tom,” she said, putting the knife down, a strange look in her eyes. “I know you’re disappointed I didn’t take you with me on the road this summer, but now we’ll have a nice Christmas, you and me and the rest. And then, when the snow melts on the hills, we can try to go on the road together. You can ride your pony all on your own.”

She had tried, hadn’t she? She had stayed longer than she ever had before, almost until easter. Until the snow in the mountains was almost gone. They had even set the date, and he had packed and repacked his bags every night to be ready come morning, so that he would not miss it. 

Then there had been the fight. He remembered the shouting from below, his father’s booming voice, the shattering of glass and then the silence. Come morning, she had been gone, and she had even taken the pony too, so he had no chance of rushing after her. 

“If you want to, you can help me with the chestnuts,” she said, gesturing with her knife. 

He could see them now, laying in front of her. It was the biggest pile of chestnuts he had ever seen. Stolen, he thought now, just like the three oranges, and the chocolate. 

It had gotten old and brittle, tasting nothing like the silky smooth ones he had tried in Paris, the ones that melted on the tongue. While it wouldn’t even come close to the best chocolate Tommy had ever tasted, it had been the one he enjoyed the most. 

He found himself reaching for it, his fingers just an inch short of reaching it, when she slapped his hand away. 

“Wait for your siblings,” she said, a scowl on her face. “It’s for us all to share.”

He held his breath, waiting for her to say what she had said all those years ago, with that mischievous smile of hers that he had seen more times in John than he had ever gotten to see it in her. 

“Although…they won’t know one’s missing, will they?” She asked, piercing one with the knife and holding it up between them. 

“What do you say, Tom? It’ll be our little secret.” With that she drove the knife down on the board, splitting the small piece of chocolate in two. 

“Christmas is supposed to be special, isn’t it?”

~~~~~~

The last time it had been the cold that woke him, and its ruthlessness that had kept him awake. Now it was the noise, the grating, neverending screams, the wails echoing not just within their rooms but passing through the walls that separated their house from the next. 

And just like back then, it jolted him, made his stomach twist and his chest clench. 

Even now, despite everything, he had never been good with screaming. Although back then he had thought it was the worst sound of all. That was before he had heard men die. 

That was before he had been forced to hear horses die. 

Still, a screaming child was a sound that would never be easy on his ears, nor one he could ignore, pass on or drown out like other men. Or maybe they couldn’t either. 

Perhaps the same thing that made them flee to the pub or reach for the bottle was born from the same desperation that made his throat close all those years better. He had wanted to flee, but he had nowhere to flee to. Besides, if he fled, no one would be left. 

The memory returned the agonising feeling in his chest as if the construct of time had crumbled, between the boy he saw then and the man he was now. Because he was a boy. His hair was long, his eyes sunken, and his cheeks pale, even for winter. 

He looked like he hadn’t slept, and Tommy knew he hadn’t. How could he?

Perhaps it had been a saving grace, that the baby kept him up, or Ada having nightmares, or John crawling into their mother’s bed, finding it colder than it had been even when their parents still shared it. If it hadn’t been them it would have been Polly waking screaming from her night terrors, fighting nothing but her ghosts and regrets, or Arthur stumbling home drunk. 

With sleep, came nightmares. Though back then, the boy thought he was living in the worst one. That was before he knew what nightmares were, and looking at him now, Tommy wouldn’t blame him. 

“What’s wrong with him?” John asked, glaring at his two brothers, the older and the younger, with nothing but plain disgust on his face. 

The boy only inhaled sharply. not having an answer to share. Back then he had thought sometimes babies screamed just for the hell of it, or perhaps he was letting out his rage against the world, against his mother for leaving, against his father for fleeing, against his eldest brother for fleeing and his aunt for being a drunk, against his second brother for being too stupid to figure out if it was hunger, exhaustion, cold or pain that made him wail. 

With a scowl, John ran off, a face like sour lemon, leaving the boy to return to the kitchen. 

The air was thick with steam and smoke, and even thicker with tension. 

Ada’s face was flushed with rage. 

“No!” She insisted, her voice cracking like a whip. “I don’t! I don’t want it with cream, You ruined it!”

“Ada, it’s not ruined-,” Polly tried, her hands shaking too much to light the match for her cigarette. 

“Yes it is!” She snapped. “It’s never with cream. Mum always did it without cream because it’s supposed to be without cream!”

She screamed the last two words, tears shining in her dark eyes. 

She was wrong of course. Their mother didn’t always do it without cream, although there were little things she always did. Always would imply routine, certainty even, reliability. That wasn’t possible with their mother, not even in her death could they count on her absence. She’d come to haunt them in dreams. 

But Ada didn’t know that. She was younger than Tommy, and remembered less. And for all her faults, their mother had tried to make them a nice Christmas. When Polly didn’t respond in the way Ada wished, or in any way, she continued her tirade.

“It’s properly ruined! You ruined the cake and you ruined Christmas!”

“It’s the way I do it,” Polly said, her finger slipping again. She was too drunk to hold the match to catch the spark. 

“It’s wrong!” Ada snapped, trying to force back her sobs. 

“Ada, it’s a bloody cake!” The boy insisted, rocking the baby with his arm in a futile attempt to get him to stop screaming. 

“Well I don’t want it!” She snapped. “I don’t want the cream, I don’t want the cake and I don’t want Christmas!”

She didn’t have to say what she wanted. Tommy knew, then as he did now. She wanted the man back who’d lift her up to sit on his shoulders when he was sober and in a good mood. She wanted the woman back who’d sing to her and braid her hair. She wanted the family back that wasn’t wholly and utterly broken. 

The boy couldn’t give it to her, and the man knew that little girl would have to lose her family once more. 

“Where’s Arthur?” Polly asked the boy as she, having discarded the cigarette, reached for the bottle of gin. 

“Getting drunk.” The boy replied, and Tommy still remembered what he had thought. 

Like I want to. Like I should. But he couldn’t. 

That would leave them here alone, in the first Christmas without. They ought to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. A mother without children. Children without a mother. 

But it had felt so wrong. 

Now Tommy wondered when it had begun to feel right, not then of course, not in the year after that. He didn’t know when, only that it had. The knocking on the door startled the baby to cry again, making him curse the interrupter before he had even put the baby down and walked towards it. 

Arthur didn’t knock and he wouldn’t be drunk enough yet to return. A gust of cold wind came as soon as he opened the door just a bit, the winter air being whipped through the narrow streets of Small Heath. 

“Happy Christmas, Tom,” she said, her voice muffled by the scarf she had wrapped around her head almost completely. 

The boy tensed. Tommy could see it in his shoulders. He had been upset by her use of the word “Happy” and by the sheer audacity of her to say something like that to him, to them, now. 

“I, ah, look!” She said, handing him a basket. Tommy didn’t have to see to know. Five gingerbread men. 

“These were left over from the bakery when we closed earlier. Mr Higgins gave us some to take home. Thought you’d like some.”

Five gingerbread men in a basket, wrapped in a white cloth. Tommy remembered the look of them, and the taste of them too, though he only had little. Both Ada and John had liked them enough to get distracted by them for a bit, first playing with them like they were dolls, and finally hacking off legs and arms and heads to eat them. 

He could see the look in her eyes, the expectation. 

“If you want, I can set them up in the kitchen,” she said. 

“They’re just gingerbread men,” the boy said. “Nothing to set up.”

She shifted, glancing downward. “Just offerin’.”

Tommy knew now what the boy didn’t, what she was actually asking. What she was actually offering. The boy was too caught up in his own misery to see the outstretched hand, and so instead quickly said that the house was getting cold and that he had to shut the door. 

“Oh alright. I better go then.”

Once more she had that expectation in her eyes, the spark that just waited for the right breath of air to ignite a warm, comforting fire. But it never came. 

The door was shut and locked, the basket taken into the kitchen, and Tommy was left alone in the corridor, as alone as the girl out there in the wind, making her way home. 

“Gingerbread. Ada’s favourite. And yours.”

His head snapped up, seeing the figure sitting on the stairs. Her hair was open for the occasion, with a wreath of holly that she wore like a crown. 

Seeing her here, in this house, on that day made his eyes burn. He almost wanted to lunge at her. 

But perhaps this was her hell, her purgatory, seeing the consequences of her absence, witnessing all their pain and desperation she had left in her wake. But he didn’t want her to suffer. He wanted her to be there. She smiled as she glanced at the kitchen door. 

“You know she lied, don’t you, Tom?” She asked, when from the kitchen the boy called his younger siblings. 

“Course,” he said. 

Mr Higgins was a man as greedy as he was mean. He didn’t give away anything for free. Once Tommy had heard her say that he’d eat himself to death before sharing a crumb. 

Either she’d have stolen them, which meant getting the price deducted from all the girl’s pay, or it would have come out of her salary, little as it was. 

John came rushing first, passing by the woman sitting on the steps, not knowing she was even there. Ada came more reluctantly, even if she ended up enjoying them more and buying them each year. Little did that girl know that the woman she would grow to be would hire one of London’s most famous, and expensive cake makers to create Gingerbread villages, and castles and boats to celebrate, a new motive each year. That year, a man had to do. 

“Happy Christmas, Tom,” his mother said, her eyes piercing through him. 

~~~

He woke with a gasp, hands shooting out to grasp onto the chair he had been sleeping in. An unfamiliar, rather uncomfortable feeling stuck to Tommy, forcing his eyes to blink a few times to adjust to the darkness he was engulfed by. With his eyes finding his clock he let go of a groan, it was already Christmas morning. 

“Tom.” The voice rang in his ears, making his head whip towards the door, only to find his room still empty. His heart was pounding, trying to shake his mother’s voice, hoping that the rather strange dream he had been plagued by would finally let him rest. But the voice called out to him once again, even as he cupped his face in his cold hands, desperately chasing the silence that had been ripped from him.

“It’s Christmas, Tom. You need her.” Her? Tommy caught the question before it could leave him, not wanting to speak out, scared that he was now going insane. He tried to shake his head, tried to rise with trembling limbs, though something clung to him, something his eyes couldn’t see. “Christmas is supposed to be celebrated with your loved ones, isn’t it?” 

He heavily swallowed, reaching for a cigarette in hopes of being able to let the memory of his mother finally rest. The blue smoke left his nostrils like a wave clashing through the streets he had once roamed as a young boy, with his siblings in tow. 

“Find her, Tommy, it’s never too late.” 

……

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” She was wearing her thin dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around herself as her wide eyes kept staring at him. Tommy cleared his throat, hands fumbling with his cap. For a few moments he struggled to meet her eyes, stepping on the cigarette he had finished smoking. 

“We’re supposed to spend Christmas with the people we love, aren’t we?” It was just a whisper, and yet the words were all too clear to (y/n) like bullets piercing her trembling body. The cold nibbled on her skin as she kept holding onto the door, watching snow settle on Tommy’s frame. 

All she could do was nod her head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His words still rang in her ears, reminding her that “I will spend it with my family, as I do every year”. 

“I guess sometimes I’m not the smartest man, even though it pains me to say so.” Both chuckled in unison, Tommy took a slow step towards (y/n), and yet he still kept some distance between them. “I love you, (y/n), and I’d like it if you’d spend the next few days with me and my family.” She reached for his coat, pulling Tommy in for a searing kiss, drowning the gasp rumbling through the surprised man. 

Slowly Tommy guided her back inside, door falling shut with a thud as he shuffled out of his coat, falling to the ground with his cap following. They didn’t break the kiss, not as he picked her up, not as he carried her towards her bedroom. Only as Tommy carefully placed her down on the mattress did they part, allowing (y/n) to watch him undo his vest, taking his time as he undressed one by one. 

“You’re a strong headed idiot, Tommy Shelby, you’re painfully oblivious sometimes. And yet I can’t help but love you.” His fingers froze, eyes burning into hers. It took Tommy longer than he’d like to admit to snap out of his trance, lips finding hers again with a soft “I love you too, so very much” rumbling through him. 

Within moments both found themselves pressed together, naked bodies falling back into their all too familiar rhythm. They were a mess of tangled limbs, of racing hearts, and swollen lips, a mixture so loving, Tommy couldn’t help but wonder if he was still stuck in a dream. An almost melancholic feeling flushed through Tommy, momentarily taking him back to his rather confusing dreams. 

(Y/n) whispered his name as if it was a prayer one would only speak on Christmas, needing to keep one another close, wanting to fully pull him into her trap. He interlaced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed into her, watching her eyes flutter close with a gasp leaving her. She was even more beautiful at that very moment, so beautiful Tommy wished he could freeze the moment to paint her.

His thrusts weren’t rushed, they were almost too slow for (y/n), though the way he looked at her, with so much love swimming in his pupils, seemed to be just enough to satisfy the moaning woman. She clung to him, fingernails scratching at his shoulders, scared that he’d let go of her all too abruptly, not giving her a chance to fully love him.

“Never let me go again, Tommy, promise me.” Her moans rolled off her tongue as he began to meet the one spot that left her gasping, seeing the brightest stars. He dipped his head down, kissing her throat as he spoke his sweet promise, words so loving, (y/n) feared her heart would rot from the love it felt. 

“May I die by my promise. I won’t ever let go again.” Their hearts were pounding in sync, roaring in their chests, louder and louder with every passing moment. Both kept holding eye contact, not wanting to miss their loving, lust-filled expressions. They were addicted, made for one another like Paris and Helen, like Orpheus and Euridice. Ancient lovers reborn at this very moment.

She came with a gasp, back arched off the mattress, pressed against his front. Tommy once again pressed kisses against her throat as he kept snapping his hips, needy for his own high. He didn’t let go of (y/n) as he followed her down the edge, imprinting himself on her walls, groaning her name with a smirk tugging on his lips. 

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[darth-jess]

Hi. Thanks for giving all of us pro-Jedi folk a reason to block you by entering our tag with a take that is not favorable to the Jedi.

Look. My own dislike of Anakin has *nothing* to do with the Jedi and his role in the Jedi and *everything* to do with how much he reminds me of my mom who did nothing to get over her trauma. And do you know what I’ve found has helped me with the trauma of my own childhood? Jedi teachings. Quite similar to therapy techniques.

He was given opportunities to tell them that his dreams felt real and he was genuinely worried about his mom. They were far more patient with him than others might have been.

By revenge of the Sith he was an adult who should be capable of communicating his wants and needs.

And the thing is, the Jedi as they were had been successful for millennia. They’re not going to change for one person and they would have happily let him leave.

Don’t forget that Count Dooku was still respected as a former Jedi at the start of Attack of the Clones until they had proof of what he was doing. Anakin could have walked away. He wanted to have everything he wanted and it just wasn’t possible.

I’m not gonna see any response ‘cause I’m blocking you immediately. I like vibing with my faves and jot getting into arguments, which is why the Pro-Jedi tag should stay free of people like you.

Hi Anon! Clearly you won't see this message, as you've mentioned you're blocking me. However, I wrote this post –> To The Anti-Anakin/Pro-Jedi Crowd as part of a 3 part post and this is only the second post in it.

If you would have waited (practiced some Jedi patience, maybe?) until tomorrow to block me, you would've seen my post titled, To the Anti-Jedi/Pro-Anakin Crowd, in which I defend the Jedi.

Because personally, I love both Anakin and the Jedi, and I think both are flawed and both are beautiful.

Both deserve a defense.

Sorry that Anakin reminds you of your mom, that's really rough. Jedi teachings have actually always been very helpful for me as well, as I have chronic anxiety and also suffer from trauma. I go so far as to literally tell people my religion is "Jedi" so I get that.

But my point is, we really should be able to admit that the things we love can be flawed, and that's fine. I am someone who likes to be critical of the things I love, and that often makes me love what I love even more.

As far as Anakin's communication skills go… look. Obi-Wan doesn't exactly make him feel good about opening up. Obi-Wan is basically the person who raised him, and Obi-Wan isn't that great at communicating, either. So it's not like Anakin really had a good example.

As far as the Jedi being successful go… yes, they had been successful for millennia, but this success was part of their arrogance that lead to their downfall. They had lived without the Sith for a thousand years, and they had remained unchanged for so long they did not know how to adapt to a world where the Sith were trying to regain power. The fact that the Jedi were unable to change and were too set in their ways was part of what destroyed them– Sidious knew this weakness and exploited it.

About Anakin walking away… absolutely. He could have walked away at any point. Nobody was forcing him to stay there! But, as I'm going to explain in my post tomorrow, Anakin loved being a Jedi. But he also loved Padmé. And yes, he wanted both.

I feel bad that my previous post offended/upset you, but I really wouldn't call that post anti-Jedi because I am not anti-Jedi at all. My point of all of these is you don't have to be pro-Jedi and anti-Anakin or vice versa. You can love both at the same time.

Clearly, you dislike Anakin for very different reasons than a lot of other people, and if Anakin isn't a character you like, that's fine. But a lot of people dislike Anakin simply BECAUSE they are pro-Jedi, and all I'm saying is that it isn't mutually exclusive!