#theme party gown

[houseoffett]

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[saydesole]

Bridgerton Tea Party theme 🫖💐

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part four)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Aemond is not one who shares those which he thinks belong to him. Including you, as you'll soon find out after an eventful little feast.

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, third and fourth parties (but not really), Aemond is a stubborn and possesive arse, drunk Aegon - huzzah!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

a/n: I can't believe it's been a year since I updated this fiery miniseries! Apologies if I couldn't tag everyone who asked from the previous chapter - taglist is now closed 💙

The necklace is perhaps the most beautiful piece of jewelry you've ever seen.

With an intricate interwoven chain of Valyrian steel, and a sapphire pendant inlaid in a burnt bronze frame that glowed dark green in some lights, the frame displaying carvings that resemble Vhagar's scales.

There is no question to it. Not an inkling of doubt.

This gift is from Aemond.

"You simply found this when you arrived?" you asked your lady-in-waiting, as you pick up the necklace from its velvet casing and study it against the faint firelight in your chambers.

"Yes, my lady," she responds promptly. "Shall I fasten it upon you before you depart for the King's feast?"

Your mind forms almost immediately, resolute in your decision. "No, it will not be of any use to me this night. You may keep it away in my boudoir."

The thought of it around your neck is a pleasant one, to be sure. It is such a thing of beauty, fit to be worn to a royal gathering. But what message might it signal to the others?

What purpose might it serve - especially to Aemond - that you wear something that symbolises him?

All while your companion is Ramsay, with whom you hope to be betrothed.

And while Alys is likely draped upon Aemond's arm. That slimy, bastard witch.

You will not give in, and give him what he wants.

The necklace is far from enough to make up for how he has wronged you, so it stays in your chambers, safely tucked away in its casing, not to be worn until Aemond sets things right.

If he ever will.

Ramsay arrives at your door soon enough, accompanied by two of Aegon's guards. The awe in his gaze as he takes you in is so evident, so pure in its apparent innocence. Unlike Aemond's, who would be undressing you with a single passing look.

Unlike Aemond's, who - despite his trangressions - looks at you like he would burn the entire Seven Kingdoms for your hand.

But he has relinquished your hand when he took that witch to bed.

"You look dashing as ever, my Lord," you curtsy in greeting, as Ramsay kisses your hand. He is clad in a tunic in House Beesbury's yellow and paly black, as you are wearing a gown in your own House's hues.

If not the necklace from Aemond, branding you as his, why not something of Beesbury? It would anger Aemond so, but you are feeling petulant. Why can't you take a jab at him after what he had done?

"And what a lovely sash you wear," you say, observing his attire. "Mayhaps I might display this on my person? Have it as a sort of attachment upon my skirts? I would be proud to have everyone at the feast know that we have come together."

"Of course! I would be honoured, my lady." He immediately relinquishes it, handing it to your lady-in-waiting, who then fastens it around your waist. The colour is striking in contrast. The piece of cloth surely will not go unnoticed.

You make your way through the Red Keep, your arm entwined with Ramsay's. Sounds of the revelry make themselves heard as you near Aegon's private dining hall.

As the guards open the doors, you hear your names announced. Almost all the attendees are already sat around the table. Aegon and his host of sycophants, particularly Lord Reyne and Lord Estermont. Helaena and her lady companions. Tyland Lannister and his betrothed. Even Ser Criston Cole, who has never been one to partake in merrymaking, usually standing guard in the corner. There are some others whose names escape you, as you find your seats - among the last ones which remain empty, right next to Aemond and Alys.

"Welcome, dear lovely guests, welcome!" Aegon walks over to you, already on his fifth or sixth goblet of firewine. "Please find your seats, have a drink - or seven drinks, preferably, and... oh! Isn't that something, my lady? Beesbury yellow?" Not giving mind to any boundaries, he toys with the sash tied around your waist.

Aemond twists around in his seat, catching sight of you for the first time.

His pupil dilates considerably, with a single glance at your face, then down to your décolletage... where the necklace is nought to be seen.

What he sees, raking over your figure, is that sickening shade of bright yellow. That Beesbury sash tainting the beauty of your gown.

Tainting the woman who is rightfully his.

His hand instinctively goes to the scabbard in his belt, though his sword remains in his chambers. It matters not, he can just as easily demand one from the Kingsguard.

Because the rat who calls himself Ramsay has surrendered any desire to stay alive.

"So... you here," Aegon guides you to your seat, with his arm loosely draped around your waist. "And you right there," he adds to Ramsay.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think the seating arrangement is accidental. But you know Aegon - he surely planned it to be Ramsay, you, Aemond and Alys beside each other.

Aemond openly stares at you as you settle down to his left.

"My Prince," Ramsay greets from your other side, "Lady Alys."

"Oh, it's just Alys, m'lord," she clarifies, unabashed. "I am no Lady. I am simply here at the behest of my dear Aemond."

"Prince Aemond is fortunate to have you as his companion, Alys," you smile sweetly, concealing any ire you might have. "As I am fortunate to have Lord Beesbury by my side."

Alys nods, raising her cup to you. To anyone, it's an innocent enough gesture, but you see her up close, and you see into the depths of the witch's gaze. She knows about you and Aemond, of course she does.

The attention of your companions are diverted, and Aemond wastes no time in leaning closer to you. He grips your thigh underneath the table, away from any prying eyes.

"My love," he purrs, "you never fail to take my breath away. Although I never thought you would sully yourself by wearing that. I trust you received my gift?"

You cross your legs so that his hand falls off, but it doesn't faze him. He simply finds purchase yet again, this time digging harder into your flesh. So warm, it almost feels as if your skirts do nothing to prevent his encroaching touch.

"Hmm, don't test me, now," he warns, lips curling back in annoyance. His tone is so deep you feel the heat pooling in your core.

"I could say the same to you," you counter. "Do not lay a hand on me, my prince. Especially not in the presence of my betrothed." You push his hand away, and he relents for the moment, reaching for his goblet and downing its contents in one angry swig.

"And by betrothed, you must mean that you have reconsidered my proposal and agree to be wed to me, your only love," he says, daring you to challenge him.

"You are mistaken, Aemond," you respond coolly. "I do appreciate the necklace. It is a marvel, indeed. But there is a reason why I don something of Lord Ramsay's instead of it. I am not yours. I feared the message it would send were I to wear the necklace to this feast."

"What message, my love? The truth? That you are mine and mine alone?"

"That is finished - "

"If you value Lord Beesbury's life by any small measure, you would not speak to me of such vile ideas. He will not have you, lest he wishes his head to no longer rest upon his shoulders."

"Resorting to threats now, are we?" you spit venomously. "You will not harm him. Or I swear to you on my mother's memory that I will never speak with you again."

That shuts him up. He exhales deeply, weighing your words, studying your expression. He wants to fight back and to call your bluff, but it is no use. His gaze is drawn down to your lips, and he moves closer just an inch, his own lips parted in longing and torment.

"Well, it seems we may have more cause for celebration!" Aegon bellows from the head of the table, with a grinning Ramsay standing by his side. You tear your attention away from Aemond, but he lingers on you, until his brother calls out for him. "Aemond! You must have known about this, dear brother, as I understand you and the lady have always been close."

The guests share glances, already assuming what the news might be, but none of them say a word for fear of their Prince Aemond.

"Iderēbagon aōha udra sȳrī, lēkia." Choose your words wisely, brother, Aemond warns him. The mood of the entire room shifts, as it inevitably does whenever Aemond speaks.

"Oh come now, none of that!" Aegon groans, drunk and unamused. Nothing will bring his spirits down, not even his far more intimidating younger brother. "These are happy news. Something about a successful betrothal, I hear?" he declares, nudging Ramsay to make the announcement.

Ramsay locks eyes with you, and you manage to give a stiff smile, aware of the simmering rage of the one seated beside you.

"Allow me," Aemond stands, raising his cup to the entire table.

"Even better," Aegon shrugs, "you have always been excellent at dinner proclamations, lēkia." Brother, he addresses Aemond, his own Valyrian disjointed and careless.

Aegon sits back down and raises his cup. A confused but still smiling Ramsay returns to sit next to you.

Ramsay hurriedly tells you, "I was hoping to share the news myself, my lady, but - "

"Do I not have your attention, Lord Beesbury?" Aemond interrupts.

"O-of course, you do, my prince," Ramsay stammers, reaching for his cup with shaky fingers. You take notice and place your hand atop his to provide comfort.

Someone else takes notice, unfortunately.

"A toast," Aemond voices clearly, and a hush falls over the room, "to a new betrothal."

"Hear, hear," Aegon responds, taking a sip of firewine and waving for the others to do the same.

But Aemond is not finished just yet. "We are not often afforded the privilege to marry for love, and that is what makes this union so exceptional."

You stiffen in your seat, dreading the next words that you know will come out of his mouth. For you know him so well. You know Aemond's design.

"It is an honour to take my love to be my wife," he raises his cup as he gestures to you, and you swear you could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence that ensued. "She is already the keeper of my heart, so the ceremony will only be a formality. But I shall take her as mine in every way that I can. In front of the old gods and the new."

You are unable to drop Aemond's gaze, unable to see the look of betrayal Ramsay is giving you.

"Hear, hear," Ser Criston offers, in an attempt to cut through the tension.

Aegon releases a fit of laughter, prompting his fawners to follow suit.

"Seven hells!" he exclaims. "More wine, more wine for all!"

Aemond rushes to you, pulling you out of your chair, not paying mind to anything or anyone else.

"Come with me," he commands, his fingers tight around your wrist.

You feel powerless as you let him herd you away from the table and out of the hall.

"Oh, would you look at them!" Aegon practically squeals, and calls after you, "It is customary for the bedding to be after the wedding, you two! But then again, who fucking cares?"

taglist: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @aemondswifeisme @bash1018 @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstoms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @youtoldalie @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @whitejuliana1204 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul @rorawinters @targaryen-madness @hanula18 @rhaenattargaryen @an0ther-us3r @sugurubabe @theshatteredideal @let-love-bleeds-red @s-we-e-t-t-ea @mydemimonde @the-intjs-dark-academic @heavenly1927 @anehkael @minttea07 @barnes70stark @cheneyq

[sinner-as-saint]

no masters or kings - 2

Priest!Bucky x Reader 

Read part 1 here

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), mild c*m play

a/n: @cadence-on-beat Father Barnes and I love you <3

“Where were you?” 

There was already a chill in the air which had you shivering for the past few minutes that you’d been in here. In the darkness, in the cold. Standing all by yourself in front of the ancient looking pulpit, inside the empty church at near midnight. Then the tone of his voice added to the shivering. You were properly trembling as you turned to face him. 

He hadn’t been out running tonight. No work out clothes. He was still wearing the black slacks he always wore. With the black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and that white collar. Hands shoved in his pockets, he stood there near the pews and watched you. 

The lights were off. The lamps outside and the moonlight coming in through the stained glass gave just enough light for you to see him. Not clearly, but you didn’t need to see his face to sense his displeasure. It echoed around the empty room. Not just his voice. His authority. His dark desires as well. 

Three little words and you were ready to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness. He always had that effect on you. His handsome face only made him seem more lethal. Unreachable. Like he was some forgotten god who was known to be greedy, but you kept throwing yourself at his altar despite the warnings just for a possible glimpse of his beauty. 

You were enamoured. And you could only tell him the truth. Lying to him felt wrong. 

“My parents hosted a dinner party over the weekend. Plus there were a few fundraisers to attend. So um, my husband and I had to–,” 

He cut you off with enough venom and bitterness in his steady voice that it felt like a thorny vine wrapping around you, squeezing and hurting. “So you were with him?” His accusatory tone didn’t go unnoticed. 

–

Bucky was well aware he had no right to be jealous. He had absolutely no right to question you regarding your whereabouts. But he so selfishly enjoyed the way you squirmed in front of him. After not having seen you or heard from you for days, he was beginning to get worried. 

Each time he walked by your house, he made sure to look for any signs that you might be home. But there were none. By the second day, he realised you must’ve gone away. He just didn’t know that it would affect him so much upon hearing that you’d been away, for days, spending time with your showy family and husband. It made him borderline murderous. 

Dinner party. Fundraisers. Those were so far from his world. Plus you looked like you’d just gotten back from one such pretentious event. Judging by the deliciously low cut silver evening gown with a slit at the front, the expensive shoes, the diamonds in your ears and around your neck, and that excuse of a shawl you had wrapped around your shoulders – it looked like you’d come straight here to see him. It made him stand a little taller. 

He watched as you took the smallest step towards him, as if unsure whether or not you could get close to him. 

“I came back as soon as I could.” You explained, looking down at the dark red carpet beneath your feet. 

Bucky took some steps closer to you. “But you were with him. Did he touch you?” 

This made you look up at him, as if betrayed. As if it was unthinkable that your husband would touch you. “No. I told you about him and I. We’ve never–” 

He cut you off again, stepping closer and closer as he spoke until he was right in front of you. “Did he hold you in front of everyone? Pulled you close?” He began listing. “Showed you off? Held your hand, kissed you, danced with you? Did he do all the things I have no right to?” He reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek just barely. 

He was crossing a line. He knew it. He couldn’t stop the jealousy from spreading, from coursing through his veins. He begged his god to make it stop. Begged. But here it was again. That same jealousy, stepping out of a dark cave like a beast that’s been chained underground for too long now finally seeing the light again. It was angry. Raw. Hungry. Demanding. 

–

His jealousy, his possessiveness felt like a drug you wanted more of. 

“He did none of that.” You explained. “We slept in separate bedrooms in his penthouse.” 

You gasped as Father Barnes’ hand moved, his gentle touch on your cheek turned into him grabbing the back of your neck and bringing your face closer to his. Your chest pressing against his. His body heat wrapped all around you as he sneered, “What if he wanted to? Hmm? What if, as it is his right, he walked into your bedroom at night and said he wanted to fuck his wife? Would you have denied him?” 

Your breaths were shaky. Your mind was already foggy just by being this close to him. He didn’t feel human. He always felt more. He was too put together. Too steady. Too pretty to look at. 

He scoffed, “You wouldn’t deny him.” He whispered, his lips just an inch away from yours. “Your pretty little brain doesn’t think about anything else, does it? Of course you’d say yes. All you think about is men fucking you, owning your body, making it theirs. It doesn’t matter whose cock it is at the end of the day, is it?” 

He gave you a sinful smirk. One that made your whole body pressed against him even more. 

Then he leaned closer, so that his soft mouth brushed against yours as he said, “You just need that pretty pussy to be filled at all times. Doesn’t matter who does it, your husband, a stranger, a priest. It’s all the same to you, huh? All you care about is having a man on top of you. You sick, twisted, immoral woman.” 

He spoke those words with a gentle caress. His tone hushed, still jealous and authoritative. But quiet. Like he wasn’t chastising you. 

“Please.” You murmured, mouth brushing against his. “Please.” 

He ignored your pleas. Tightening his grip at the back of your neck as his other hand came up to that risqué slit at the front of your dress, fingers sliding in to touch your inner thighs. “Is that why you showed up here, dressed like this? Because you need a cock to fill you up. Hmm? Look at you,” He said, his fingers now finding their way in between your legs, cupping you there, “You’re trembling already.” 

He chuckled in that boyish way of his when he noted the lack of underwear, sliding his finger inside you with ease. Followed by another finger, and said, “Is this what you want? To be nice and full?” 

You looked up at him and nodded, pleading with him with your eyes. 

–

Bucky loved the sight of you like this. Expensive gown, diamonds all over you, his hand in between your legs, that sorry excuse of a shawl as if anything about your behaviour was even remotely modest. 

The soft moans coming out of your mouth. Too perfect. Your appearance, the lipstick, the hair, the gown. He wanted to ruin all of it in the best ways. So he thoroughly enjoyed the gasp of surprise he earned when he pulled his fingers away abruptly. 

“Not so easily.” He whispered. “Get on your knees.” 

He watched as you dropped instantly, right there in front of him on the dark red carpet right in front of the pulpit. Your shawl fell behind you, your silver gown spilled around you, the slit widened and exposed more of your smooth skin and legs. You looked up at him and waited. 

Bucky undid his pants, his eyes daring you to move without him asking you to. He lowered his slacks just enough to free his throbbing, hard cock and let it out there in front of your face. He let you watch it bob once, twice. He smirked when he saw the way you almost begged for it. But he wasn’t that cruel, nor was he too patient. 

“Go on, use your mouth.” 

– 

It felt forbidden. Well, it was. But as you reached for him, as you brought your mouth closer to his tip, it felt like you were entering a territory that could change your life forever. Like you were entering a domain which would swallow you whole, and you would happily let it. There was no coming back, you knew that. 

You were too far gone. There was no forgiveness for this. No repenting. Nothing. So you went for it. You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip, your tongue slowly circling his tip before sliding him into your eager mouth. 

Bucky slid his hand down to your neck, pulling your head forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “What would your rich, conservative family do if they saw you like this, hmm? On your knees for a man you shouldn’t want. What would your husband do?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan, followed by an arrogant chuckle.

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock with all your might. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. You wondered how long it had been since his cock was inside a warm, wet mouth. 

He moaned as he pushed himself deeper, fucking your mouth like he owned it. The carpet would surely leave marks behind on your knees but that was the least of your concerns as he bucked his hips forward into your mouth. 

“This hungry, slutty mouth of yours feels so good…” 

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs. 

“You’ve been craving this, haven’t you?” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, eager to chase his orgasm. “Needing a cock in your mouth, so fucking desperate you came begging all the way here for it.” His voice was raspy, heavy with lust. It made you squirm. 

You knew you couldn’t wait any longer for the sake of your sanity. You needed him. So you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Are you that eager? You can’t wait? Hmm?” That gentle voice of his was back again. “Just want to be done with me as quick as possible so I can fuck you, huh?” He looked down at you with his intense blue eyes. His longish hair a little out of place now. 

You nodded before taking him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock against your tongue. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he groaned as he reached his high. 

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him starting to come undone. His hand came to the front of your neck, a warning, as he growled, “Don’t swallow just yet.” Then his cum filled your mouth as he gradually pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen. Cum and spit ran down your chin, out the corners of your mouth. 

You were panting, waiting. He looked into your mouth, finding a small pool of his cum in there. He smirked in that devilish way as he slid two fingers past your lips, gathering the wetness on the tips of his fingers as he, almost naturally, brought his wet fingers to your forehead. 

“You’re mine.” He said to you while you trembled, and it wasn’t because of the cold night. 

There, as both of you were in that post-sex haze, he drew two overlapping lines on your forehead. Then dragged his wet fingers down your face, painting your skin. Down the bridge of your nose and back into your mouth. Pumping them in and out, causing more cum to fall down your chin. 

Causing it to fall down your neck, all over the diamonds that your husband possibly bought you. All over your chest, ruining your expensive gown, your makeup. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Your lipstick was smeared, you had his cum all over your face and he had never felt so close to ecstasy before. He felt free. Tingly. Floaty. Like nothing mattered, but every little mattered. 

This must be the feeling people seek. He thought. Why they beg at altars, and worship old gods and new. 

You were so close to begging again. You needed him, terribly. 

And he knew. 

–

Bucky stared deep into your eyes as he said, “Get on your back. Pull your dress up and spread those legs for me.” 

He watched as you did just as he asked, while lowering himself on top of you right there on the carpet. He was ready to go, all hard again. So he wasted no time in pushing himself fully into you. He watched you grimace in pleasure as his cock stretched you out. 

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force. He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. 

“Fuck you feel good.” He groaned. “This warm pussy missed me, huh?” 

Your back arched off the carpet, your chest pressed to his as you moaned. You wanted to feel his naked body against yours, to feel his warm chest press against your bare skin. But if this was all he’d give you then you were willing to take it.  

“You’re gonna keep coming back here over and over again, no matter where you go. You’ll come right back to me, won’t you?” He asked, hips moving in a way that made it hard for you to think straight. 

But you nodded. “Yes…” 

“Yes what?” He barked.

“Yes, Father Barnes. I’ll always come back to you,” You whispered, a moaning mess under him in no time. 

He worshipped your body. He grabbed your thigh with one hand, hooking it up to his waist, allowing him to fuck deeper into you. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you, his fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He looked down to where your bodies connected so intimately. So sinfully. So beautifully. 

“I’m yours,” You whined, looking up at him. Even in the darkness, he was ethereal. Looking down at you with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. 

His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you. He did. He did from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

You whimpered even louder when his hand slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit. It wasn’t going to take much to make you come anyway, you were already too turned on. 

“Please,” You whined in a higher pitch, “Please, please, please…” 

“What do you need?” He panted, still fucking you hard and fast. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.” There was that priestly tone again. 

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. Still you mumbled out, “I need to come, please. Can I come?” 

“Fuck!” He swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. “Go on, come for me.” 

You did. 

You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you yet again. 

—

He helped you up after a minute or two, helped you fix your dress and appearance as best you both could. 

He had seen your car outside earlier so he knew you’d be okay to drive yourself home. You didn’t live far from the church anyway. And right before you left he said, “Leave the door unlocked.” It was a safe town, so he felt free to ask that of you. “Who knows? I might want more later.” 

Might. He could come back for more, or maybe he simply wouldn’t. Maybe he wanted you to go to bed still thinking, guessing, anticipating, and waiting. 

And he knew you would. Think. Guess. Anticipate. And wait.

---

part 3

[back2bluesidex]

Girl Crush - MYG

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Read the follow-up drabble, Afterglow.

Pairing: Husband!Yoongi X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, arrange marriage au

Wordcount: 1.5k+

Summary: It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at.

Based on Girl Crush by Harry Styles (Cover).

Warnings: unhappy marriage, unrequited love, yoongi loves someone else. this is very painful.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I had this idea sitting on my head for a long time now. Thanks to @jimintaemin for requesting this and giving me a chance of writing this. This is very angsty just as you wanted. Hope you like this. Hit me back with your feedback!:)

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

“I assume you already know that this is a marriage of convenience, a negotiation between two companies. And I hope you will not expect anything from me. As long as it’s about responsibilities, I am okay with those. But don’t expect anything more.” Min Yoongi had said, cold and stoic, as if not conversing but stating some flat facts related to stock prices. 

He was not wrong. Whatever he had said are indeed facts and there was nothing you didn’t already know.

So you stood there, standing as still as a porcelain doll, ready to fall and break at any given moment. 

“And just so you know… I have someone.” he finished, diverting his eyes from you even though he never really looked at you properly. 

Although you were glad that he didn’t. You were more than happy that he didn’t witness tears rolling down your face, gathering below your chin and dropping down at the immaculate fabric of your wedding gown. 

Do tears leave stains? You hoped that was not the case. 

It’s not that you pictured a fairytale married life for you. You know arranged marriages come with more cons than pros. You knew you would have to pay the price.. but at the same time you had no choice. You were even more reluctant to do anything because it was him. 

It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at. 

It was foolish for you to expect a man of his stature would not have someone to love, to be loved by. And it was even more foolish for you to think, you can be his wife, a real one.. and lead a life with him. 

However, now you know it’s impossible. And the realization made you feel helpless, caged and broken. 

“I won’t expect anything, I promise, but in return… Can we at least be friends? It will make things easy for both of us.” you’d uttered upon managing your voice and emotions. 

Only then he looked at you, like really looking at you with a small smile playing on his lips, he’d said “sure.”  

That was the moment you realized you had a girl crush. And it was the woman who managed to make Yoongi, your husband, fall in love. 

“I got it real bad.. Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh.. She's giving you now.” 

You thought, you would be angry. You thought every possible darkness would cover your senses, when you’d meet her for the first time. 

But wrong… you were. 

You had so many prejudices about this woman and you hated her with every drop of blood your body owns but all of it evaporated in thin air when she smiled at you standing right at your and yoongi’s door. 

She is beautiful, she is kind, she is loveable… and maybe everything else you can’t ever be. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I never thought I was going to see Yoongi ever again.” she’d murmured as she stood close to you in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you three. 

You had stared into her eyes then.. Trying to find mockery and a hint of brazen victory telling you, “you’re only his paper wife. I own his heart.” 

But again.. Again you were disappointed. 

In her eyes, there was no mockery, no pretense, no dishonesty.. Rather only understanding and kindness. Only then you understood why Yoongi loves her so much. 

Why will it never be you and always be her.  

That night as you stood at the balcony, enjoying the stinging sensation cold wind brought to you, you heard them laughing.

It was the first time you heard Min Yoongi laughing. Even though faint and muffled, you could still sense his happiness through the sound. 

Min Yoongi was finally happy... for the first time since the wedding ceremony... and you were not the reason. 

All of a sudden, you were jealous again, even though you were not sure if you had the right or not. 

“I want to taste her lips… Yeah, 'cause they taste like you I want to drown myself… In a bottle of her perfume”

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you invited her to your and Yoongi’s honeymoon. 

Both of your and his parents have been pestering you to set out for the trip. You have been using excessive workload as the excuse and you assumed Yoongi to do the same.

But a week ago, everything went south when Yoongi had a fight with his father. As a result, flights were booked, accommodations were chosen and you two were notified only two days prior. 

That night, Yoongi didn’t come back home. And when he did, he didn’t speak a single word to you. 

The visible frown on his forehead and the cold aura that oozed from him, made you want to make him smile, made you invite his lover to the trip secretly.  

She was already there when you two reached and you will never forget Yoongi’s reaction when he realized what was happening. 

The grumpy cold Yoongi broke into gummy smiles and giggles as soon as he saw her. They kissed right in front of your eyes and you silently cried. 

Oh how you wish, you could taste him too. How you wish, he would hold you like that, caress you like that. 

How you wish… he would love you like that. 

“I want her long blond hair… I want her magic touch Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much”

 “Babe, could you please turn your head a little? Yes.. yes just like that.” 

You watched the man as he clicked photos after photos of the woman he loves, seemingly trying to document her beauty for a long long time.  

You watched her as her long blond hair flowed like a waterfall down her shoulder, wind ruffling it gently making her look even more beautiful. 

“Let’s take a selfie, will you?” she shouted at him and he chuckled. 

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, he said, “you smell so nice.”

You wondered, what she smelled like, what perfume did she use to make Yoongi look this satisfied. You even considered asking her, purchasing a bottle and drowning yourself in one of those if that means Yoongi would love to smell you too, he would curl himself around you late at night. If that means Yoongi would want you, just as much. 

“I don't get no sleep… I don't get no peace Thinking about her.. Under your bed sheets”

“Where are you going?” confusion dripped through Yoongi’s voice. You stopped at your tracks and turned to face him. 

“I will sleep in the other room. You two should have your space. I will send her in as soon as I am there.” you smiled at him, even though your heart bleed invisibly inside your chest at the thought of how they would spend the night together. 

“No, Y/N. We will adjust. You sleep here in the suite.” Yoongi commented, as firm as a verdict, as he stepped towards where you stood. 

“But Yoongi, I am alone, what would I do with all this space?” you sighed. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone at the honeymoon suite, decorated for the newlyweds. You hate it. Totally loathe the decorations. Those giant red hearts had been mocking you since the moment you stepped there. You might tear those to pieces if you were left there alone, raising endless questions regarding such an act. 

“You have done enough. You have done much more than you needed to and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness. So, please… stay here. Enjoy the stay. We will manage.” giving you one of his tight lipped smiles, Yoongi slipped out of the room to spend the night with his lover. 

That night when you slid inside the covers, which smelled awfully like him because he took a nap earlier in the evening, you started breaking down. 

Your hopes, your dreams, and your heart all started crumbling right before your eyes. You held the duvet tightly around yourself and pretended it was yoongi wrapped around you, it was Yoongi, whispering sweet things in your ear, it was Yoongi, telling you that he loved you. 

Somewhere you knew, Yoongi is actually doing all these things in real-time but.. Not to you.. Not for you. 

You closed your eyes, tears streamed down your cheeks and wetted the pillow. You imagined your life as her… as your girl crush… as the woman your husband, Min Yoongi, loves. 

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

It Was Enchanting to Meet You

Lord Debling x Fem reader

Lord Alfred Debling x female Bridgerton reader

Synopsis - You’re the second eldest Bridgerton daughter, being forced by your brother to finally debut. You believed the ordeal would be terrible, that was until you meet the handsome Lord Debling, the handsome stranger soon captivates your mind and heart.

Warnings- fluff, period drama, feelings, very small amount of angst, confessions, great sibling relationships, suggestive themes but no smut. Still 18+ though please.

Word count- 4.7K

Today was the day, the day you were coming out into society, you’d put it off long enough. Being that you were only a year younger than your elder sister Daphne, and a year older than Eloise who were both already out. But your mother hadn’t pushed you and for that you were thankful, your eldest sibling Anthony though was another story. He had all but told you enough was a enough, and even though he would not ever force you to take a husband, you needed to be out in society despite your disagreement with it.

He did not want the great Bridgerton name tarnished, with people starting to talk of the strange girl in the family who did not conform to society’s norm, who did not like social situations, a girl who spent her time fencing, reading and horseback riding. You were a free spirit, one who preferred the wind in her hair, rather than constricted dresses, dancing and polite conversation.

So now just having turned 20 you were being launched into the world around you. This brings you back to today, your mother was flapping making sure both you and Francesca looked perfect, creamy white gowns adorning your bodies, lace perfectly placed, your dress was accentuated with gold floral embroidery and tiny puff sleeves. You adjusted your long white gloves once more before exiting your room, “Ah y/n there you are my love, have you seen your sister I can’t find her anywhere, she is not in her room!” Your mother Violet frets, she’s looking pale and exhausted. “Calm down mother, I’m sure she is about, I can hear music are you sure you haven’t checked it is not her playing?” You ask.

“Oh! No I have not, come, we shall go check together.” She replies, gently grasping your wrist and tugging you down the staircase In search of your sister, you are sure she only holds onto you so she cannot loose you too.

Walking into the drawing room you find it was indeed Francesca playing the piano forte, your mother breathing a big sigh of relief, she is also dressed ready to go. “Well then my children let’s get going shall we?” She asks as she ushers us all out to the carriages, turning to you and Francesca she says “You both look so beautiful!” Voice full of emotion. “Thank you mother” you both say in unison, she nods before you all enter the carriage and head off to the queens palace.

The whole thing went by in a blur, you walked down the aisle, bowed to the queen then exited out to the side, you’d all entered out into a garden party where people were mingling happily. Your brother Colin who had just returned from travels, was boasting to the young ladies, causing them to fawn over him. Penelope Featherington sadly watching from the sidelines, you were very aware of how she felt for your brother, being the same age you had spent many moments together. Although you wouldn’t call her a close friend, it saddened you to see her aways watching him with such hopeful but sad eyes.

You decided she could do with a distraction so you made your way over to her, “Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you about the house recently?” You ask, she jumps, obviously you’d caught her very much deep in thought. “My goodness y/n you scared me” she gasps hand on her chest, “Sorry Pen, we were both on our own so I thought I’d come talk with you” you explain. Her face softens then “Of course, you can always come talk to me, I know how hard this must all be for you” she replies her face now sympathetic. “Yes, I do so hate public attention, but alas my brother thought it was necessary” you sigh, nodding Penelope gave you a look of understanding, “We must all be pushed out into society sooner or later, I was just 17 when my mother decided I needed to be out. And look over three years later and I’m still just sat here with no suitor prospects, I wish I could find a husband” she groans, “What? Why? You’ve never seemed too interested before?” You ask.

With a sigh she turns to you “In all honesty I need my privacy, and I just cannot stand living with my family any longer, at least your family is supportive and kind, mine can be just awful” she complains. You nod, you understand, her family have always been difficult especially her mother! “Well then Pen I hope you find a kind, loyal man to be your husband this season, you deserve some happiness” you tell her in earnest. “Thank you y/n, you do too, whatever that is for you, you deserve happiness too” she says as she walks off, leaving you once more to your thoughts.

Would you find happiness? What was happiness to you anyways?

________________________________________

That evening you were attending your very first ball, nerves settled deep within your stomach. There would be many people attending Lady Danbury’s ball, and you were hoping to quietly blend into the crowds, not causing any reason to warrant any unwanted attention. Anthony had insisted on you being present, he had also given you a list of people he had chosen for your to converse with.

Your dress though, that you had chosen for yourself, it was a deep maroon, corseted down to your waist, it then flared out into a subtle A line ballgown. It had thick off the shoulders straps, sparkling embroidery and a skirt that swished as you moved. You wanted something that felt more freeing, compared to the tight empire line gowns that were the norm. Giving yourself a last once over you sighed, although you looked like a princess, you felt absolutely ridiculous.

Entering the party was as equally nerve wrecking as bowing to the queen this morning, walking down the steps after your brothers and sisters you felt all eyes shift to you, you held your head hire and floated down with all the grace you could muster, it must have worked because once you’d reached the bottom all eyes were still glued to you. Your mother came rushing to meet you, “You did well, you entered as gracefully as a swan” she gushed, you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm, “Well mother my plan is to not cause any unwanted attention, I don’t want them thinking I am some wild animal that cannot be tamed” you sassed back. Tutting she guided you through the crowds to meet some new people, what you hadn’t noticed though, were a pair of very entranced blue eyes belonging to the one Lord Alfred Debling watching your entrance.

“Who is she?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury, “That would be Miss Y/N Bridgerton, second eldest daughter of the Bridgerton family” Lady Danbury answered. “I see” he replies eyes still watching you intently, Lady Danbury smirks knowingly, “I may also add, she only debuted this morning so from what I gather she is very much on the market, so to speak” she smiled. “Is that so?” He asks eyes still enchanted by you. The pair hadn’t noticed Cressida Cowper Joining them, not until she spoke up causing them to both jump slightly, “I’ve heard she’s a strange girl” she abruptly interrupts, “And where have you heard that Miss Cowper?” Asks Lady Danbury, her voice full of exasperation.

“Well I’ve heard she prefers the outdoors over social gatherings, she rides her horse bareback at some speed I may add, I’ve seen it myself. When I’ve called on Eloise this summer she’s either sprinting through the country on her horse or she has her nose in some weird book” she explains amusedly. “I don’t see how that makes her strange, but rather it makes her unique” Lord Debling affirms, “Well also” Cressida stutters out trying to find something more vexing to say about you, “Ah she also fences, she sword fights with her brothers, isn’t it incredibly odd, incorrect even for a young lady to sword fight?” She points out. “I dare say! Does she really?” He asks Lady Danbury, “Yes I believe she does” Danbury replies, the smug look is soon wiped off Cressida’s face though when he turns back to Lady Danbury, “That is incredibly impressive, what a young lady she is! I will go introduce myself” and with that he leaves in search of you.

He finds you over by the drinks helping yourself to one before retreating to the corner, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite alright? You appear to be hiding in the corner” he asks. You bow quickly “Lord Debling, I’m quite well thank you, just not one for large social gathering's” you answer honestly. “Ah, no me either actually, I prefer to be outdoors” he responds. You smile up at him shyly “I do too” you agree, “Riding Percy gives me much more joy than this” you continue, choking on his drink Lord Debling gasps “I beg your pardon you what?”, “Percy, he’s my horse, a Suffolk punch, my brother Anthony bought him for me for my birthday a few years back, I most enjoy riding him through the countryside, where it’s nice and quiet” you explain,

“Oh of course, I heard from Lady Danbury that you enjoy riding, he conveys, cheeks bright red now from his misunderstanding. “Lady Danbury spoke of me? To you?” You ask confused, “Umm yes, I happened to ask after you” he admits, you offer him a smile “I see and what else did she happen to say about me?” You question teasingly causing him to smirk, “Nothing much else, just that this was your first season” he stutters out now feeling very put on the spot, “Oh yes well I put it off as long as I possibly could, but my brother is forcing me to try this year” you confirm, “Is it so very bad?” He asks, teasing smile on his lips, “Well maybe not as bad as I had made it out to be in my head” you admit.

“Well then, would you care to dance?” He offers, hand outstretched towards you. “Yeah ok, why not, in the name of trying new things of course” you smile, “Of course” he repeats, clearly amused by you. He walks you out to the dance floor as everyone lines up, ready for the dance to begin. As the music plays he spins you around the dance floor, your eyes never leaving one another’s, its almost as if there’s static energy between you, your hearts pounding in your chest, you can tell everyone is watching you both, but in that moment all you can see is him.

“Is that your daughter Violet, dancing with Lord Debling?” One of the mothers asks, “Yes” your mother laughs, “I dare say it is” her face is lit up at the way your both staring at each other, thoughts of Daphne and Simon’s first dance entering her mind. This looked very promising, she thought you’d be the hardest to convince to give this whole ordeal a try, but you were entranced by the man before you, and it was Francesca who had made a rather hastily exit home already.

Lady Danbury joins your mother, “He asked about her you know, the second she entered the room” she tells your mother, knowing smirk still plastered on her face, “Did he?” Your mother asks, “Yes, he seemed very much intrigued by her, maybe we’ve made a match already” she implies, “Maybe…….. I will speak to my daughter once we are home” you mother decides. Nodding in agreement Lady Danbury takes her leave.

Once your dance comes to an end you bow and move to walk away, thinking he would have other young ladies to dance with, a soft grip of your hand causes you to turn, coming face to face with Lord Debling once more, “May I call on your tomorrow?” He asks, “Yes you may” you give a curt nod before leaving with your family.

This night had gone much better than expected, you thought to yourself whilst laying in bed, you felt excited to see what else was to come.

________________________________________

The next day you’d woken up early, to get yourself dressed for your sword fighting lesson, hoping you’d have time to freshen up before anyone had any callers, you smile to yourself at the thought of seeing Lord Debling again today. Bounding down the stairs you met your instructor Henry, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, are you ready?” He asks, “Yes I am” you affirm, “Very good, although I don’t see how you need any more lessons now, I’ve taught you everything I know, and you have mastered it all”, you grin “Why thank you Henry, but I can tell you why I need my lessons” you reply, “And why is that Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Because I enjoy them” you laugh as you get into position.

Your two eldest brothers had joined you now, you were currently practicing against Benedict, completely loosing track of time. “Why do you encourage this Anthony?” Your mother asks, “Well dear mother I think it’s good that a lady knows how to defend herself, no one will ever mess with our little y/n now will they?” He questions playfully, rolling her eyes she waves him off as she leaves the room.

“Ha! I win again! Really Benedict are you even trying?” You goad, sweaty and exhausted he gives you the are you kidding look, “Yes dear sister unfortunately I am!” He grumbles, Anthony snorts out a laugh “Well I dare say these lessons are paying off, you have quite the talent” he praises you, “Thank you brother” you smile. Just then one of your maids enter the room, “Someone’s here to see you Miss” she announces, realisation hits you! Oh no Lord Debling has arrived and your still in your fencing clothes.

Walking in he smiles at you, you bow nervously before rambling out, “I’m very sorry I lost track of time my lord, please excuse me for a moment while I go change”, “Nonsense don’t worry about it, I’d love to see you in action” he answers, “Really!?” You ask surprised, he nods in response, you look to Anthony motioning for him to come join you, but he puts his hands up in surrender, “Oh no, watching Benedict loose all credibility was quite enough for one day, I will go find my wife, as I promised her a walk this morning.” He replies, “I’ll spar with you” Lord Debling offers, “Oh I couldn’t ask that of you my Lord” you hastily reply, “You’re not asking, I’m offering” he affirms before removing his jacket and placing on Benedict’s fencing armour.

Anthony lets out a laugh, “Perfect” he announces, before turning to Lord Debling “Don’t let her win, she will know. She is incredibly able” he confirms before leaving to find his wife. “Well are you ready then?” Debling asks you, “Yes, quite ready” you smirk back. As the two of you spar the static energy returns from last night, you fall into an effortless rhythm against one another, he fights well, there is technique and power to his moves, but you are just too quick for him, eventually knocking the sword from his hands and pointing yours to his chest in victory,

“I say! You are rather good at this aren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah I think it’s because I enjoy it so much” you agree.

“You Miss Bridgerton are an incredibly rare flower indeed” he says, “Thanks” you reply warm blush adorning your cheeks, “Will you save me a dance at tonight’s party?” He asks. “Yes of course” you reply maybe a little too hastily, “Well then, until tonight” he offers placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Before leaving he looks back towards you once more, giving you the most endearing smile.

You were very much looking forward to seeing him again tonight.

________________________________________

Over the next few weeks the two of you became much more acquainted with one another, you danced together at every party, usually more than once, you took chaperoned strolls together in the park and your family had also invited him over a couple of times for dinner.

You’d learnt much about him, his love for animals and wildlife, the fact he didn’t eat meat, all his adventure and conservation ideas, you’d become completely enamoured with this man, It appeared he also was with you too.

Today you were both taking a stroll in the park, the sun was warm and the smell of blossoms filled the spring air. Your maid was walking a few steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye. “Beautiful day is it not?” You ask him cheerfully, enjoying the sunshine on your skin. “Yes it is, but I can see something much more beautiful” he replies watching you carefully, you turn your head to hide your reddening cheeks. “Will you be attending the garden party tomorrow? I hear there will be a new form of transport being showcased” you ask, “Yes I believe I will be attending” he responds while smiling at you, grinning up at him you offer a nod in response.

“Well I bid you farewell Lord Debling, I have promised to help my mother this afternoon, I will see you tomorrow?” You offer, “Yes I shall see you tomorrow, good afternoon Miss Bridgerton” he replies. You spare him one last glance, before you walk off with your maid.

________________________________________

It was the day of the garden party and you were stood looking at the enormous ballon in awe, was that really supposed to be able to carry people through the sky? “Quite spectacular isn’t it?” Lord Deblings voice cut through your thoughts causing you to jump, “My Lord, you gave me a fright!” You gasped, “I am sorry, that was not my intention” he responds “That’s ok, it is spectacular yes, although I do worry how it’s supposed to transport people” you reply.

“Yes quite, but I suppose only time will tell, are you well Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Yes, thank you my Lord I am very well” you affirm, “Good” he nods.

As the afternoon goes on Penelope, Eloise and Cressida join in your conversation, Cressida going out of her way to try and impress Lord Debling, not even caring how desperate and contrary it makes her appear. Penelope spends the whole time staring at Colin and Eloise is pretty much rolling her eyes at everybody’s antics. Cressida continues to laugh at something he said, almost hanging off his arm, causing a pit of jealousy to stir in your stomach.

You turn your attention once again to the large ballon, which is now rocking very unstably in the wind, creaking and groaning as the ropes loosen. Just as they snap your brothers are rushing over to pull them back, using as much strength as they can muster to pull the thing back into place. All you can do is watch in terror as they lose control and the ship comes hurtling towards you, it all happens so quick, one miniute you’re watching terrified, the next you’re on the floor Lord Deblings body shielding you.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks gazing into your eyes, “Yes all thanks to you”. He carefully traces his fingertips down the side of your jaw, you watch him with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Someone loudly clears their throat behind you, you both jump apart, turning to see Cressida and Eloise watching you both.

Lord Debling jumps up before offering you a hand up too, “What luck you were there to save my sister, thank you my Lord” Eloise states, “Of course, it was nothing” he replies before walking off.

“What was that y/n?” Eloise gasps, “I hardly know” you reply, completely shocked yourself.

________________________________________

That very evening you arrived at the ball still very much in shock, more so by Lord Deblings behaviour than nearly being squashed by the heavy ballon. Your mother currently had you making small talk with every eligible Lord in the room, “Mother is this really necessary?” You grumbled as you made your way over to yet another man, “Yes my darling daughter it is, until Lord Debling actually proposes you must keep your options open” she insists, “But Anthony said I do not have to marry this season, only that I must be out in society” you ask confused.

“Yes I know my sweet girl, but every year you’re on the market the less desirable you become, now make haste” she commands, you roll your eyes at her as she drags you through the crowd, “Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, how nice to see you both” Lord Cambell greets, “Lord Cambell, lovely to see you again” you reply with a very forced smile. “Would you have any space left on your card to include a dance with me?” He asks, you stutter before your mother replies on your behalf, “My daughter would be delighted”, you resentfully offer your wrist and card for him to write his name on, before bowing and leaving to find some corner to hide in.

After no empty corner is found you retreat to the gardens in hope of some peace, leaning against the cold stone of the house you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Miss Bridgerton you should not be out here alone” Lord Deblings voice causes you to jump, “My goodness my Lord! Must you always startle me so.” You gasp, “Sorry I never intend too” he replies in earnest, “But you really shouldn’t be out here alone” he repeats as he steps closer, “Yes I know, but I need a minute to breathe, it’s awfully stuffy in there, and my mother is being a nuisance….” You trail off, voice stuttering as he steps closer once more, “By nuisance you mean by parading you around the room, like a prized animal?” He smirks, “Yes” you stammer, feeling more breathless than before if that was at all possible.

He carefully moves a piece of hair from your face, “Do you not wish for the attention of the Lords here tonight Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “No, not from those ones anyways” you whisper, then in a flash his mouth meets yours, it’s passionate and gentle, it’s fire but also calm. Your fingers grasp his jacket as you pull him in closer, moulding your body to his own, his fingers move from your face to your neck, tilting your face to give him better access. His other hand grasps your thigh as he pulls it over his hip, grounding down into you causing a low whimper from your lips, moving from your mouth he kisses down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot, your hands slide into his hair as you grind into his hips once more.

Your movement causes him to gasp before quickly pulling himself away from you, leaving you a breathless mess. “I shouldn’t have done that” he worries, “My Lord?” You ask confused and worried, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position I am so very sorry” he repeats and your heart sinks, was he going to reject you now? Were you about to loose all credibility? Sensing your despair he quickly comforts you, “What I mean to say is that shouldn’t have happened before I asked for your hand, I do not wish to dishonour you, if you will have me and your brother agrees to it, I would very much like to make you my wife” he confirms, “Really?” You ask.

“Yes really, I am quite enamoured with you my dearest y/n, I came here to the Ton to seek out a wife, I thought I could find a match of convenience, one where I could travel and my wife would happily stay at home managing my estate. I did not think love was in the cards for me, I believed that my work would take up too much space in my heart for that, but then I met you, and my goodness did you change everything” he explains.

“Is this a confession of love my Lord?” You ask still very much breathless.

“It is yes, I didn’t come here to seek it which makes this as much a surprise to me as it is to yourself” he replies.

“I love you too” you admit, which causes his handsome face to light up, “I too did not believe this would happen, when my brother asked me to debut this season, I admit I hated the very idea, but I’m so very glad I did as it lead me to you” You confess.

“Well then my love, I believe I have a question to ask your brother” he replies, his hand seeking to find your own, grasping his with yours you reply “I suppose you do”. He gives you one last kiss on your cheek before heading inside to seek out your brother. You are still stood against the house, breaths still racing as you trace your lips with your fingertips, the tingling of his kisses still present.

Upon entering your home that evening Anthony stops you “Y/N may I speak with you a moment?” He asks, “Yea of course brother what is it?”

“Lord Debling has asked for my permission to propose to you, he says he has the deepest of feelings for you and he wishes you to be his wife, I know him to be a very kind man, one who obviously wouldn’t ever hurt an animal or a woman, he has a great estate and great prospects, so if it’s what you want I will agree to it at once, but I told him I had to talk with my sister first” he explains.

You smile knowing how deeply your family cares for each other, this is something you will never take for granted. “Truth is brother, I love him very much, I didn’t think it were possible to find someone I could fall for so deeply, but here we are” you reply.

“Very well then I shall give him my permission” Anthony affirms. You walk over and give him a chaste kiss to the cheek, “Thank you brother” you respond, he nods giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before wandering off.

You were going to be married! Not only that to a man you love, you felt such happiness in that moment your chest could burst.

________________________________________

The next morning whilst reading your maid walked in announcing Lord Debling was here to see you, you nod at her to let him in.

“Hello my love, are you well this morning?” He asks as he enters the room.

“I am quite well my Lord thank you” you smile.

“Please call me Alfred, such formalities feel no longer necessary”

“Very well Alfred, but then you must call me y/n so we are on equal terms” you reply.

He laughs, “Of course, my dearest y/n, so I’m guessing it’s no secret to as why I am here?” He asks.

“Well I have an idea, but I will need you to clarify” you respond with wit.

“Very well Miss y/n Bridgerton” he begins before getting down on one knee, “You have bewitched my heart, and I’m asking if you will do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”

Walking towards him you kneel down in front of him, reaching out and tracing his stubbled cheek, “Yes Alfred, I will marry you” you gush before moving in and placing your lips against his, in a sweet soft kiss.

Just then all your family enter the room offering congratulations, you thank them all but your eyes never leave his, as you think to yourself yes you believe this will be a very happy marriage indeed.

[misspygmypie]

A One-ce Upon A Time Celebration

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Max F x Maebry Charles and Oscar make an appearance :) Words: 1647 Request: By the lovely @landossainz "for meet and greet universe, can you write where it is Maebry's first birthday and they celebrate it with their families and friends." Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

On this special day the Norris family backyard was transformed into a fairytale wonderland. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of joyful laughter as Lando and Y/N prepared for a celebration that would mark their daughter Maebry’s very first birthday. Their chosen theme, “One-ce Upon a Time,” promised to be a magical day and they had spared no costs in bringing their vision to life.

Lando was the epitome of Prince Charming in an outfit that looked like it had been plucked from a storybook. His ensemble featured a dazzling jacket with golden embroidery, a crisp white shirt and a smile that seemed to outshine everything. He moved with pride, his heart swelling each time he glanced at his little princess.

Y/N, ever the elegant queen, was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that shimmered with every step she took. The gown was adorned with delicate embroidery of magical creatures and enchanted forests and her crown of flowers added a touch of fairytale magic. She floated through the garden, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she greeted guests and ensured that everything was perfect for their daughter.

Maebry, the star of the day, was a vision of cuteness in her stunning gown of layered yellow tulle and blue ribbons, resembling her favorite Disney princess: Snow White. Her head was topped off with a giant red bow that made her look every bit the princess she was wanting to be. Her tiny red shoes twinkled with each step she took and her face was a picture of wonder as she explored her “One-ce Upon a Time” world.

Noah was dressed as a brave knight, his silver armor shining in the sun. He had a toy sword strapped to his side and his little chest puffed with pride as he took his role as protector of his baby sister very seriously. He was the guardian of the day, always nearby to defend Maebry from any imaginary dragons or mischievous trolls that might dare to disrupt the celebration.

The garden buzzed with excitement as guests arrived to experience the fairytale wonderland. There was a “Royal Tea Party” corner where children and adults alike could enjoy tiny pastries and sip from small teacups. A “Prince and Princess” dress-up area especially made the little ones happy, they were able to pick crowns and capes to join the royal festivities. Nearby, a “Storybook Reading” nook featured comfy cushions and enchanting tales read by Y/N’s close friends, adding an extra touch of magic to the day.

Lando’s parents, who had traveled to Monaco from Bristol to celebrate their granddaughter’s special day, were absolutely besotted with Maebry. Cisca had been knitting a blanket for Maebry since before she was born. Today she was thrilled to finally present it to her granddaughter, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“Look at this beautiful girl,” Cisca cooed as she wrapped the soft blanket around Maebry. “I’ve been working on this for so long and it’s finally here. You truly are our little princess, darling.”

Maebry giggled as she felt the softness of the blanket, reaching out to touch her grandmother’s face. Lando’s father Adam, with a proud grin, showed off pictures of Maebry to the other guests. “Have you seen these? She’s grown so much since the last time we saw her. And just look at her in that gown!”

A group of Lando’s Formula 1 friends arrived, among them Max Verstappen with his girlfriend Kelly and daughter Penelope, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo and also Charles Leclerc who immediately started gushing over Maebry.

“Wow, Lando, she’s absolutely adorable,” Charles said as he crouched down to Maebry’s level. “Are you sure she’s only one? She’s already got her own fan club.”

Maebry’s giggles grew louder as Charles made playful faces and he gently lifted her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. “This little princess is stealing all our hearts today.”

Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate, also made a grand entrance and immediately made a beeline for the “Prince and Princess” dress-up area, where he enthusiastically took a toy crown and cape, playfully pretending to be a prince alongside Maebry.

“Look at me, I’m the prince of this land,” Oscar declared with a grin, playfully spinning around. “And I’ve got the best little princess by my side!”

Lando, watching the interaction with a smile, was surprised at first. Oscar was usually more of a quiet type but everytime he was around Maebry he turned into the fun uncle instantly. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Lando said eventually to the other drivers, “it means a lot to us that you’re here to share this day with us. Maebry’s been looking forward to celebrating with all of you.”

Charles waved a hand dismissively. “It’s our pleasure! We wouldn’t miss it for the world. And you know, she’s already got us all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Absolutely,” Oscar added, adjusting his crown, “she’s the real star of the show. I think we might have to make her our team’s official mascot!”

Maebry’s birthday party was in full swing and one guest was extra excited. Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend and Maebry’s godfather, had been eagerly waiting for the perfect moment to present his special gift. Dressed in a perfect Flynn Ryder outfit Max smiled as he approached Lando and Y/N, who was holding Maebry.

“Hey, guys,” Max called out, catching Lando’s eye. “Can I borrow Maebry for a moment?”

Y/N, not hesitating at all, gently handed Maebry over to him. “Of course, she’s been looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle.”

Max cradled Maebry in his arms, his face lighting up and everyone could see how much he adored her. “I’ve got something really special for you, little one,” he directed at the girl just as he was sitting down at a table. “It’s not every day you turn one, after all.”

He reached into a large, pink gift bag and carefully pulled out a beautifully crafted storybook. The book was bound in rich, deep blue leather with gold lettering on the cover that read, “Maebry’s Magical Adventures.” It featured illustrations of mythical creatures, enchanted forests and twinkling stars.

“Look at this,” Max said, showing the book to Maebry as she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. “I had this made just for you.”

Max opened the book to reveal its contents, which were not only filled with personalized stories but also featured memories of Max and Maebry together. The first few pages contained charming tales of a brave little princess who looked remarkably like Maebry, embarking on magical quests and discovering new lands. Each story was accompanied by illustrations that included subtle nods to special moments Max and Maebry had shared so far, like their first meeting or a day spent playing in the park.

On the final page was a special dedication from Max, written in elegant script:

To Maebry, my dearest goddaughter,

May this book be the start of many magical adventures. Whenever you open it, remember that you are loved beyond measure and that there is always a world of wonder waiting for you. With all my love,

Max

Max’s voice softened as he continued, “I thought this would be a great way for you to have a little piece of magic with you every night as you grow up. And when you’re older you can read the stories together with your parents. It’ll be a special keepsake from your first birthday.”

Maebry’s eyes widened in delight as she traced the gold lettering on the cover. Lando and Y/N watched and Y/N couldn’t hold back the tears from forming in her eyes. “That’s an amazing gift, Max,” Lando said. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Max looked up at his best friend, his eyes shining with sincerity. “She’s my goddaughter, after all. I want her to have something magical to remember this day by and something she can cherish as she grows up. I’ve been showering her with gifts and little surprises since she was born and I’m not going to stop, ever, but I wanted this to be extra special.”

Y/N reached out and gave Max a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, Max. It’s perfect. Maebry will treasure it forever.”

Max carefully placed the book into Y/N’s hands and she held it close to Maebry. “I hope you love it as much as I loved picking it out for you,” he said softly, giving the girl a loving kiss on her cheek.

Maebry clapped her hands with joy, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at her new book but soon Max whisked her away to rejoin the birthday activities.

As the sun began to set Lando and Y/N took a moment to themselves. They watched as Maebry played with the other kids, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Lando’s gaze, however, was not just filled with pride, it was also tinged with just a touch of sadness.

“It’s hard to believe my little princess is already one,” Lando said softly. “It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital. Watching her grow up so fast… it’s both wonderful and a little heartbreaking.”

Y/N noticed the look in Lando’s eyes and gently took his hand. “I know,” she said, her voice soothing. “It’s incredible how quickly time passes. But look at her now, she’s so happy, surrounded by people who love her. We’ve made so many beautiful memories already and there are so many more to come.”

Lando nodded, his gaze returning to his daughter as she giggled. “You’re right. Today has been perfect and I’m so proud of her. I just wish time didn’t move so quickly.”

“We can’t stop time but we can cherish every moment,” Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

________

AN: Thank you so so much for requesting this @landossainz UGH I was so excited to write this, I may have gone a biiit over the top lol! I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35

A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.

Part 35: Dance with the Devil

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

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[yandere-wishes]

Just a thought, Yandere Neuvillette dancing with his darling at a formal party or ball. Gossip spreads through Fontaine, who was that person with the Iudex? Speculation spreads but in reality it was his darling who he has been married to for centuries and this was the first time she has been out in public since then

This becomes ten times better if you imagine that his darling is an ordinary human that Neuvillette somehow "blessed" with immortality.

For her first public appearance, she'd be dressed to the nines! A tailor-made ocean-blue and off-white ball gown by none other than the famous Chiori herself. Her hair would be decorated with real pearls. A recurring theme in all her jewelry. After all, it's only fitting that Neuvillette's darling be graced by the loveliest gems of his domain.

They'd glide across the dance floor, smooth like the waves of a tranquil ocean. Neuvillette would twirl his darling ever so elegantly in his arms. When the song nears its end he dips her, slowly teasing her with a passionate kiss. Poor darling can already hear the excited gossip amongst the court. Sweet speculations muttered behind opened fans.

Now since Neuvillette would keep his darling locked away from the world. She'd no doubt develop some social anxiety. The ball is such a stressor for her. Killing her quietly. She can't stand the way everyone's eyes bore into her. How their mumbles buzz in her ears. Neuvillette's gloved hand holds her delicate one in an iron grasp, as he sends her a reassuring smile. It's been centuries now, he knows she's not going to escape. Still, he prefers to make her ever-present. Somewhere in reach.

As the ball nears its end. The Iudex and his mysterious "mistress" disappear. Fading away like rain. By the next day, the whole court is in disarray, obsessively trying to piece together who Neuvillette's new lover is.

Somewhere in Café Lutece Furina and Chiori exchange knowing smiles. As they lean in whisper the most outlandish theories they've heard so far, to none other than the Iudex and his darling themselves.

[kth1fics]

I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG

I Won't Hurt You

● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.

It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.

A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.

The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.

Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.

The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.

Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”

The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”

Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.

You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.

Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.

His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.

Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.

“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”

Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears. 

You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.

“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.

The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply. 

Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.

His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.

Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!” He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”

Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips. 

You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”

Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.

You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.

Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens. 

Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.

You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.

He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.

“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck. 

Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material. 

“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.

“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut. 

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”

You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.

He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth. 

“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”

You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”

© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[eymie]

COME HERE, DRESSED IN BLACK NOW !

masterlist

pairing: politian!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: smut, degradation, dirty talk, oral (m. receiving and f. receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, tummy bulge, cream pie, choking

summary: coriolanus keeps you on a tight leash but when you act out he needs to put you in your place.

a/n: this is literally the first thing i ever wrote on this account but never finished. when i take my time to actually write well😧😧😧😧 it’s so mf long sorry it just got lore (like 4000 words)

Coriolanus had chosen you. You were the one with the ring on your finger. The one with his initials around your neck. You were his.

That didn’t prevent him from being cold and distant. Locked up in his office during the and into the night occasionally. Breakfast and dinner he sat across from you with his eyes scanning the newspaper.

You weren’t his fiancée, you were his pawn. Someone for him to show off, someone to carry his heirs.

In public, he’d wrap his arm around your waist, tugging you tight to his side. You didn’t know if it was to show you were a happy couple or territorial.

Maybe he didn’t love you, or even like you. But, nonetheless, you belonged to him. The abomination it would be to his reputation to have his fiancée acting out. For you to act like a whore in public. So he kept you on a tight leash.

Most the time.

Tonight was your engagement party. He let you plan an extravagant gala, whatever you wanted he got you. You chose the theme, the music, the food. Of course, he chose the people. Running for president and such requires the right people at your events.

And tonight, you got to choose your own gown. It was black and tight, to go along with your theme. You chose black and silver, knowing you had the perfect heels.

Coriolanus doesn’t share a bedroom with you, he claims it’s inappropriate considering you two aren’t married yet. But that didn’t stop him from slipping his hand under your skirt two weeks ago. You and Coriolanus haven’t gone the full way in weeks, that was your goal for tonight.

When Coriolanus decided he wanted to fuck you, it was to release his frustrations not yours. He fucked you because he needed it. You never really came, it was your problem not his. Your fingers never helped.

He said once before that it doesn't count if he isn't making love to you, and he wasn't.

Living with him for two months, you’ve picked up a few things. You know what makes him itch, what makes him needy. You know damn well that he would’ve stand for a brat as fiancée, but you knew he wouldn’t leave you.

You just wanted his attention, for him to really need you. Not a stress fuck, not a pity kiss. You wanted him to crave you. You knew he was possessive, he never hid that side of him. You knew he was a jealous man, that one he wouldn't willingly admit. You knew exactly what strings to pull to have him trail right after you.

He had technically paid for this dress, it was tight and hugged your body in all the places you needed. Long enough to be considered modern, neckline low enough to be considered slutty. The necklace with his initial "C" hanging around your neck, just above your cleavage. You wore sheer black shawl around your arms to cover up if needed be.

You heard heavy footsteps down the hall, an assertive knock on the door to your bedroom. You tug down your neckline slightly, padding over to the door. You turned the knob, pulling open the door to see Coriolanus. His blond curls now slicked neatly, instead of a red suit he wore plain black.

Coriolanus leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable as he observed you getting ready. The engagement part loomed, and in his stoic demeanor, there was a hint of the complexities that lay beneath.

Catching his eye as you adjusted her gown. "Yes?" You questioned, sensing the tension in his demeanor. The one-word exchange hung in the air.

"Guests will be arriving soon, we'll need to be greeting them together." He stated matter-of-factly, his voice was cold, emotionless. He was so perfect, in the sense of his posture and the way he carried himself. His eyes bore into yours, avoiding looking at your body.

A quiet "Mhm" escaping your lips, acknowledging him.

Coriolanus eyes flickered down to the swell of your breasts over your neckline. His initial decorating your chest on a pendant. His fingers pulling at your straps, adjusting your dress.

"You have a reputation; don't taint it." He murmured, then pulling his hand away from your gown. You look up at him with furrowed brows. He bit back any more remarks before dismissing himself. The weight of those words lingered, a stern reminder to uphold the image he deemed crucial in their shared world.

You close the door as he leaves, locking it. You walk back over the the mirror, confused with your emotions. Did he even want you? You looked in the mirror, a large diamond decorating your finger, his necklace hanging from your neck.

You fix up your hair, touch up your makeup and slid on your heels. They certainly gave you a few inches, something Coriolanus secretly enjoyed. He was still taller than you, enough for you to look up at him even in heels.

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you made your way down the stairs. Coriolanus was making sure everything was properly set up as you'd like. Your hand slid down the railing, careful to keep your balance. You looked into the large opulent room, decorated just like how you had imagined. You felt a cool hand on your waist, spinning to see Coriolanus.

"Coryo," You slightly pull away. You watched as his eyes traveling down your body, admiring you.

"Coriolanus tonight, I don't want any of those silly nicknames in front of my peers." He explains, you nodding along feeling slightly embarrassed. Knowing you were barely an exception to use his nickname.

As the first guests began to arrive, a hum of anticipation filled the air. Coriolanus was at his peak of campaigning for presidency. This was the night to socialize with colleagues, his fellow peers. To win presidency.

Your friends were here, other wives of other politicians. Tigris was invited by you, despite Coriolanus' concerns. Which you never understood and he'd never tell you why.

Coriolanus hadn't paid attention to you since the first guest arrived, chatting with other wealthy men. You sat at a table engaging in mindless banter with the other housewives. You watch Coriolanus from across the room, he smiled and nodded, laughing along with jokes you knew he didn't care for.

This was supposed to be your night, and he was viewing this as a business opportunity?

You stood up from your chair, your heels clicking as you walked across the large room in attempt to find a server with champagne. You felt an hand grasp your shoulder, you turn around expecting the face of your dear fiancé. Instead a man that you knew worked alongside him, fairly handsome but not like Coriolanus.

"Mrs. Snow?" He smiles, greeting you with a hug. You looked behind him, Coriolanus still engaging in business matters. You look back at the man, somewhat eye level.

"Not quite yet," You giggle, showing your engagement ring. You weren't going to be his wife for a few more months at least. Not until he won his votes.

"I see, he better lock you in before another man comes by to steal you. Beautiful woman you are." The man laughs, you fake a smile in return. Muttering a thank you, giggling at the things he said. You acted wine drunk knowing you'd yet to consume any alcohol. "Coriolanus is a lucky man."

"That he is," You nod, fingers rubbing at the initial around your neck. The man softly grabbed your hand, pulling it away to see the necklace that hung over your chest. His eyes slightly skimming your breasts.

"A gift I assume?" He raises a brow, letting go of the necklace. His eyes skimmed your body, eyes that you wish belonged to Coriolanus. Yet, another man was in front of you instead.

"Yes, it is." You tell the man, nodding along to whatever he spewed out of his mouth. You laughed at his jokes knowing they weren't remotely funny. He snuck in comments about your appearance and how Coriolanus isn't deserving of your beauty. You simply laughed or nodded, looking back every now or then to see if Coriolanus had noticed.

You were too busy engaging in borderline inappropriate conversations with a random man too notice the jealous eye of your fiancé. His glare burning into your skin from ten feet away.

Engaged in a brief exchange, the man and you exchanged a playful banter and subtle glances, an unexpected flirtation unfolding amidst the lively atmosphere of the engagement party.

Excusing yourself from the flirtatious encounter, you gracefully departed to fix up your makeup. The brief interlude offered a moment of solitude to gather thoughts and make subtle adjustments. You adjusted the necklace that bore his initial. Fingers traced the letter delicately.

Emerging from the bathroom, Coriolanus swiftly found you in the midst of the lively engagement party. Without a word, he decisively grabbed your wrist, his touch conveying a complex blend of urgency and emotion.

Unable to contain his rising frustration, Coriolanus discreetly pulled you away from the buzzing crowd, finding a quieter corridor outside the opulent ballroom.

"Cory-- Coriolanus, you're hurting me." You tried pulling your arm from his grip, his grip unrelenting. If any thing he grabbed your arm harder. "Please."

The tension was palpable as he confronted you, "What was that back there? Flaunting your charms with my business partners? This is not the image we need."

You met his gaze defiantly, "I was playing the game, Coriolanus. Networking is about connections, you know it as much as I do."

His grip tightened subtly, "There's a line between networking and crossing boundaries. You risk our reputation and my patience with such antics."

Their hushed argument unfolded in the dimly lit corridor, a class of personal wills against a backdrop of Capitol politics.

"Who do you think you are?" He spat, his cold gaze that bore into yours. Yours that pleaded for an ounce of his attention that you silently begged for and craved. His eyes ablaze with frustration and distain.

"What--" The retort caught you off guard, and you stammered.

"Flirting with other men, men I work with at that." His voice got louder, echoing in the halls.

Your response was immediate but defensive. "I didn--"

He cut you off sharply, "Don't talk. I have a reputation to upkeep and you walked around like a dog in heat. Look at you. Your breasts practically spilling right out of that dress, thinking I wouldn't notice? How do you expect me to marry you when all you are is a unworthy slut?"

"How else am I supposed to get your attention?" You demanded, frustration evident in your voice. "You ignore me all the time."

He scoffed, "When do I ignore you?"

"Breakfast, dinner, we sleep in separate beds." You retorted. your words laden a mix of hurt and exasperation.

Coriolanus remained indifferent, "Don't expect me to see you as anything other than a business proposition." The coldness in his tone reflected the harsh reality of being in love with Coriolanus Snow.

You scoffed, a laugh laced in your voice. "Then why are you jealous?"

Coriolanus' demeanor remained composed, but a flicker of irritation cross his face. "Jealous of what? You?"

You gestured towards yourself, the fabric of your gown catching the ambient light. "Look at you."

His response was a calculated blend of dismissal and condescension. "Your lucky I don't teach you your place."

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at him. "My place?"

"Under me." His proximity increased, a subtle threat in his hushed tone. A pregnant paused lingered, the air charged with unsaid sentiments, before he sought clarity. You were turning on your heel back to the party. "Where are you going?"

"My party." You said with unwavering authority.

His challenge echoed, "My room, as soon as your party is over. Don't think to defy it." He asserted, the words resonating in the rich tapestry of Capitol politics. "And fix your lipstick." He added, his demand punctuating the intricacies of control and appearance in their tumultuous engagement.

You quickly ran back off into the bathroom. The soft glow of vanity lights highlighted the subtle imperfections on your face. With a deep breath, you delicately traced the edge of your lips with a tissue attempting to salvage the remnants of your carefully applied lipstick. Embarrassed enough that you had just fought with your fiancé with smeared lipstick.

As the night wore on, the opulent party unfolded in a crescendo of laughter, music and discreet conversations within the grandeur dining hall. Time seemed to stretch, each moment etching its own narrative against the backdrop of celebration. You got antsy by the second, assertive glances between you and Coriolanus throughout the rest of the night.

As the night progressed, the energy in the room began to shift. Guests gradually bid their farewells, and the once lively dance floor saw fewer couples swaying to the music. The atmosphere transformed, signaling the inevitable conclusion of the extravagant affair.

After the last guest bid their farewell, the once bustling corridors of the Capitol estate fell into a hushed stillness. In the wake of the elaborate celebration, you moved through the halls with a determined grace, your footsteps echoing in the quiet.

The dimly lit corridor leading to Coriolanus' bedroom felt like a clandestine pathway into a realm of secrecy. The rich tapestries and plush carpets absorbed the sound, adding an air of intimacy to the silence that enveloped the grand estate.

Your heartbeat quickened as you approached the closed door, the polished wood bearing silent witness to the unspoken tensions of the night.

With a hesitant hand, you reached for the doorknob, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of you skin. As the door creaked open, revealing the private sanctum of Coriolanus, the complexities of their relations in the air of the night.

"Coriolanus--" You whispered into the dim room. You listened to the patter of water against a shower floor. Light emitting from the crack from under the polished door to his private bathroom.

You stood there momentarily, a mix of nerves and yet a feel of need. The soft hum of the shower created a subtle backdrop, underscoring the clandestine nature of their relationship. You sat on the edge of his, your heels falling to the ground at the end of the bed.

As Coriolanus stepped out of the shower, the air was heavy with lingering warmth and the faint scent of soap and the cologne that had been trapped in the room just hours prior. Your lips parted as droplets of water glistened on his skin as he emerged. His gaze met yours, a silence settling between them.

Even though Coriolanus had summoned you, his demeanor remained unchanged as he emerged from the bathroom, his gaze piercing through yours. "I asked you here, didn't I?"

"I wanted to apologiz--" You said, the vulnerability in her words hanging in the air. Coriolanus' gaze, still edged with a hint of distain, bore into her.

Coriolanus' lips curled into a sneer as he delivered a cutting blow. "Apologizing won't erase the fact that you behaved like a slut at our engagement party," He spat, the harshness of his words echoing in the ornate bedroom.

"M'not a slut," Your words held a determined edge, refusal to admit the way his words made your thighs clench.

Despite the verbal exchange, a surprising surge of arousal pulsed through you. Your eyes, previously aflame with defiance, now carried a subtle glint of desire.

With a cruel glint in his eyes, Coriolanus seized the opportunity to assert dominance.

"You're nothing more than a pawn in this game, a desperate attempt at securing my status," He sneered, his words dripping with degradation. Your facade of defiance faltered, replaced by a momentary vulnerability. The plush surroundings seemed to close in as he continued, "You thought you could manipulate me with your feeble attempts at seduction? Pathetic."

As Coriolanus closed the distance, his proximity became suffocating, his presence an imposing force. His gaze bore into yours.

The air thickened with tension. In a surprising turn, Coriolanus abruptly seized you by the chin, his actions a mixture of dominance and an unexpected shift in dynamics. His lips crashed onto yours, a forceful kiss that bordered on the line between punishment and desire.

As your lips met, the kiss became a collision of conflicting desires. Coriolanus's grip on your chin tightened, asserting dominance even in this intimate act. His teeth clashing again yours, kissing you with passion and hunger.

The kiss deepened, the hunger for control and passion intertwining in a complex dance. Coriolanus's grip on your chin loosened slightly, his fingers threading into your hair as if staking a claim. His other hand going to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek. The intensity of the kiss became a ravenous exchange, each probing movement a manifestation of unspoken desires.

Breaking the kiss with a gleam in his eyes, Coriolanus's voice resonated a lingering sense of control. "You wanted my attention; you have it,"

His words hung in the air. As he spoke, Coriolanus maintained a calculating gaze, savoring the vulnerability beneath her desire for attention.

Their intimate connection, a collision of hunger and control, lingered in the room, leaving the boundaries between dominance and submission increasingly blurred. The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken, a potent mix of power and desire entwined in the complex web they wove together.

Your defiant gaze met his, and with a surprising admission, he declared, "You think I don't notice you? I'm obsessed with you."

The revelation hung in the air, a subtle shift in the power dynamics of their engagement. The lines between dominance and surrender blurred further.

"You are?" You questioned, a mix of surprise and uncertainty lacing your tone. How could he be obsessed with you? He couldn't even look at you during dinner.

As the revelation settled between them, you took a step back, your gaze wary yet intrigued. In response, Coriolanus, with a predatory confidence, closed the distance by stepping forward, his presence magnetic. "You're the one with my ring, our possession goes both ways, and don't think I don't know that."

You furrowed your brows, looking into his once cold expressionless eyes. Now filled with need and passion. Your lips parted, water droplets decorating his skin.

"What do you mean?" You asked, a mix of curiosity and confusion. Needing answers for this mind trip he was taking you on.

Coriolanus, standing his ground, met her gaze with a cryptic smile. "Our possession of each other isn't one-sided. Your ring on my finger is as much a symbol of my claim as it is yours. Don't underestimate the reciprocity in our entanglement," He explained, his words carrying a blend of assertion and intrigue.

The bedroom, now a silent witness, seemed to echo the breathing between them. A wry smile played on Coriolanus's lips as he acknowledged, "You'd have my head if I so much as looked at another woman."

The acknowledgment hung in the air, a testament to the fragile balance of power and possessiveness in their engagement.

Your response held a mix of conviction and playfulness, "I would."

The air in the room seemed to thicken with the unspoken consequences, a tacit understanding that their engagement carried a weight of possessiveness and potential retribution. Coriolanus, with a hunger fueled by possession and desire, closed the remaining distance. Your lips met in a hungry kiss, a collision of fervor and dominance.

The lines between power, obsession, and desire blurred further. His wet bare skin rubbing into the fabric of your dress. His hand at the back of your head pulling you into the kiss further. His tongue pushing past your lips, dominating the kiss.

"I feel bad," You admitted, pulling away from the kiss.

"Then apologize," Coriolanus responded, his tone demanding. His jaw was clenched, staring back down into your eyes. He tilted your head up to looking down at you, his obsession and possessiveness bleeding from his stare.

His lips parted as you kneeled down in front of him. A pool of arousal coating your panties. Staring back up at him as your delicately pull off the towel around his waist. You awed at the way his hardness slapped against his stomach.

"Go on, apologize." He ordered, voice laced with need. You felt his gaze burning against you as you nodded. You slowly traced his cock with your finger, a breathy moan leaving his soft lips. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking him.

His jealousy and possession relieving his body, you were the one on your knees for him. No other man could take that from him.

He tilted his head back as your hot tongue slid across the tip of his cock. Experimentally licking off the precum before running it under the tip. Your hand still stroking his length, looking up at him for a reaction. The way his lips parted encouraging you to run your tongue along his length, "More."

You took his length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you took his cock deeper into your mouth. You slid your free hand under your dress, between your legs.

Coriolanus' voice laced with mockery. "Not a slut, huh? Look at your taking my cock in your mouth."

He thrusted his hips, cock bullying the back of your throat. You gagged as he slammed into the back of his throat. Saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth.

"Mouth so full you can't even speak." He mocked, pulling the hair out of your face. A sense of accomplishment bubbling in him as he watched your eyes roll back, bubbles of spit spilling down your chin. "I think I like you better this way."

Your nails scratched at his thighs, taking the cock that he pounded into your throat. Tears staining your cheeks, his thumbing coming to wipe them away. Smearing them down your flushed cheeks.

"Fuck-- That's it." A moan rippling from his throat, echoing into the room. His hand pushed your face flush against his pelvic bone.

The way your hot tongue slid under the protruding vein under his cock making him gasp. His cock slid in and out of your warm mouth with ease, abusing your throat.

He bit back his moans, narrowing his eyes down at your. Your eyes were clenched shut avoiding his gaze. His fingers threaded into your hair, tugging you off his cock.

"Get on the bed." He ordered, an ache in his voice. You gasped for air, voice raspy from the abuse. You nodded, climbing your way onto the bed. His hands pinned you onto the mattress, tugging at the straps of your dress. "Take off this fucking dress."

His demand made your thighs clench, an ache between your legs you needed him to cure. You helped pull down the straps, his large hands tugging the dress off your body. Your breasts spilled from the dress, bouncing as he freed them.

Coriolanus' breath hitches, his eyes glued to the sight of your bare body. His fingers run lightly over your nipples before cupping one in his palm. He leans down to capture your nipple between his teeth. His free slowly sliding you panties down your legs revealing your slick cunt.

"This all for me?" He teases, looking up at you from your breasts. His fingers sliding through your wet folds. You nodded, chest rising and falling in desperation and anticipation.

"Yes-- yes, all yours." You nodded eagerly, silently begging for him to touch you where you needed it. He leaned down, pressing wet kissed into your collarbone, teeth graving the pendent that hung from your neck. His thumb sliding to your clit, gasping slightly at the sensation.

He looked up at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. His thumb rubbing your clit in frustratingly slow circles. "Look at you, wet enough for me to take you now."

"Please--"

He cut you off immediately, "No, I'm taking my time with you."

You gasp as his middle finger slipped in. A soft moan leaving your lips as he slowly slid his finger out and back in. You rolled your hips, begging for more. His fingers curling to brush your g-spot.

"Oh god--" Coriolanus cuts you off with a searing kiss, hungry and passionate. Kissing you with his whole body, tongue sliding against yours.

He slipped another finger inside your drooling entrance, his palm rubbing against his clit. The sound of your lips colliding and fingers invading your slick filling the room. He kissed along your jaw, down your neck. His lips dragging down your body, slowly dragging closer to where you needed him most.

Your eyes widen, watching him crawl between yours legs. His tongue replacing his fingers. "Coriolanus--"

He moaned into your gushing cunt, sliding his cunt along your drooling entrance. His lips wrapped around your clit, teeth crazing it. He pulled your thighs apart were his strong arms as you writhed under his body.

"Ohh-- Coryo." His mouth sucking and exploring your slick folds as you whined out for him. Your body writhing under his firm grip. Tongue exploring your wet cunt. "I'm gonna cum-- please."

He pulled from in between your thighs, his fingers pushing back inside you again. Your slick covered his mouth, reflecting in the light. "Cum for me."

His fingers curl inside you, thrusting back inside you with force. Your voice cracks as you moan his name, hips struggling against his grip as you reach your peak. Your cum coating his long thick fingers. His fingers pull you through your orgasm, your voice begging him to wait.

Coriolanus' mouth is relentless, his tongue flicking and lapping at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust in and out of you. You gasp, your body trembling with the force of the pleasure building within you again.

Your fingers thread in his hair, attempting to pull him off of your aching cunt. His mouth closes over your sensitive nub once more as his fingers begin to move faster inside of you. His hand gripping your thigh as he takes what he wants.

His fingers curl into a 'C' shape, begging you to cum around them just once more time. You writhe under him in overstimulation, hips trying to drag themselves away from him.

You cry out as your juices coat his fingers once again, tears streaming down your cheeks in overstimulation but Coriolanus didn't care.

"N-need your cock..." You breathe out as he pulls himself from between your thighs. You push his hair out of his face, your slick coating the bottom half of his face. His lips were swollen and wet, breathing heavy as he crawled back up your body.

His cock presses against your entrance as Coriolanus leans back down to brush his lips against yours. His lips interlocking with yours, juices smearing against your lips. His tongue intrudes your mouth, your taste invading your mouth. You moan into the kiss, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I want you.”

“You have me.” Coriolanus mumbled against your lips, teeth grazing your jaw line. He pulled your thighs around his waist, cock pressing against your entrance. “You gonna take me?”

You nodded, eagerly.

He pressed his lips against yours to swallow any of your moans as his tip stretched past your entrance. Your nails clawing at his skin, trying your hardest to adjust to the stretch.

Inch by inch, his power took over you. He possessed your body and soul. His cock breached the sacred part of you that only he had access to.

Your nails left crescent shaped indents into his soft pale skin, earning a groan from in return. The stretch burned, no matter how aggressively he had taken you before, the stretch was always there.

“Coriolanus—“ You gasp as he bottoms out, trying to move your hips for friction.

“You can say it, it’s just us.” He mumbles into your flushed skin, his hands digging into your hips. His breathing was heavy and sharp, begging for you to ask him to move.

You were quick to correct yourself, “Coryo.”

You felt a weird sense of care, him nuzzling into your neck, patiently waiting. Coriolanus was an aggressive, impatient, frustrated man. He pulled away from your neck, he pinned you with his gaze. Looking down at you with vulnerability and need.

You whisper, barely loud enough. “Coryo, move please.”

You felt him pull out slightly, pushing back in, a moan escaping your lips. He felt himself falter, a gentleness slipping through. In response he thrusted back in harder, punishing.

His hands pushing your knees to your chest, bending you in half. Your eyes rolled back at the new position, his cock reaching deeper inside of you. You looked down to watch as his cock slid in and out of you, slamming back in with force.

“Too—“ You moan, unable to get your words out. You close your eyes, hearing a laugh above you.

“Too much?” He questioned, you nod in response. In return he speeds up his thrusts, bullying your insides. “Better?”

You gasp, moaning out incoherent sentences. Your nails scratch deep red marks into his snow white skin. Decorating his usual pure appearance.

His voice demanding as he seizes your chin, tilting you to look into his eyes. “Look at me.”

Your jaw falls open, silent moans all that comes out. The loud slapping of skin filling the opulent room. Your body engulfed in his plush bedding.

“Look away and I stop.”

Your eyes widen, wrapping your legs around his torso. Pleas leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

“D-don’t— Coryo, don’t stop.” You beg, your cunt practically sucking him back in. You scratch at his skin, pulling him closer to you. The wire inside you slowly pulling tighter.

“Then look me in the eyes while I fuck you.” He orders, his cock bullying your inside. You nod, mouth open to let out your needy moans.

His hand wrapped around throat, slightly adding enough pressure to make your cunt squeeze around him. A groan leaving his lips as you arch your back, cunt squeezing him tight.

“You like that?” He whispers, pressing harder against your throat. The way his long fingers squeezed around your neck, your mouth opening to let out a sultry moan. “Such a slut you’d let me choke you.”

”For you,” You squeaked out, a moan following just after. He panted, holding back his own moans not willing to submit. His hand slowly releasing you, in return you gasp for air. He pushes your legs further into your chest, finger tips bruising your skin.

He disobeyed his own demand, closing his eyes breaking your eye contact. His thrusts were unfaltering, balls slapping against your ass.

A low moan escaping his parted lips, squeezing your legs trying to hold back his own pleasure. He lets go, hand travelling down to your clit. His thumb rubbed your sensitive nub causing you to cry out his name.

His other hand pushed down on the bulge that protruded from your stomach. You gasp in return, a throaty moan following just after it. You cry out as you cum around his relentless cock unannounced, something you were sure he’d punish you for later.

He squinted, stilling rubbing your clit as he continuously fucked you through your orgasm. Your body writhed under his as your sensitivity increased.

“You want my cum?” He asked, fucking into you deeper than before. You opened your mouth but no words came out, only your moans. “What? Have I fucked you silent?”

You nodded, taking his cock further. Your back arched off the bed, sweaty chest pressing into his. His hands travelled up to your nipples, pinching them in between his fingers.

“Look at you, all cock drunk practically begging for more.” He taunts, ignoring his own impending orgasm. He wanted you claimed, full of his seed.

Your cunt clenched around him, relishing in the deep moan he let out in response. An unexpected whimper following at he tried to hide with a groan.

His hot breath fanned against your neck, hiding his face as the wire inside of him snapped. His seed filling your needy cunt. He panted into your neck, still grinding his cock against you.

“Coryo—“ Your voice was raspy, he hummed against your skin. His hands rubbed your sweat coated skin, soothing you from your overwhelming sensitivity.

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

"Why do you think I stay away from you, ignore you?" Coriolanus questioned, his words carrying a weight of contemplation.

Your response carried a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, "I don't know, Coriolanus. You keep me at arm's length, and I can't decipher whether it's indifference, strategy, or something else entirely."

You were still short of breath, legs wrapped around his torso keeping him skin to skin with yours.

Coriolanus, breaking the tense silence, confessed, "I'm obsessed with you."

[eloves-writes]

long time coming

[lance stroll x reader]

desc: lawrence stroll invites his business associate and his daughter to a charity gala in the hopes of lifting lance’s spirits after a rough few races, and it definitely works.

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, oral sex (f receiving), sex, reference to masturbation, reference to lance crashing (it’s a joke i love him), think that’s it😗

a/n: my first f1 fic!! hope you enjoy, this was fun to write. requests open for any f1 drivers if y’all have anything to request. love youse, mwah mwah mwah pls comment n reblog n all that

this post contains mature themes, minors do not interact.

———————————————————

cameras flashed as you got out of your father’s car, dressed in a gown suitable only for events like these where the whispers of wealth were loud and unabashed; a congregation of business men and women with billions to their names and a philanthropic point to prove. the cameras, of course, were directed mostly towards your dad, who blended perfectly with the other attendees, but a few snapped pictures of you too as you walked into the gala.

this was not your saturday evening of choice- your dad had insisted that you come along tonight, mentioning something about lawrence asking for you specifically. you’d met the man a few times, and he was always very nice to you, but despite his close working relationship with your dad, you didn’t quite believe that he’d want you there so badly as anything other than a kind gesture to his business partner. regardless, you were here and beelining towards the open bar. though small talk wasn’t your worst enemy by any means, it would be made much more bearable with alcohol. you had only just began to sip your first martini when the man himself approached you.

“y/n! i’m glad you could make it tonight, i’ve just spoken to your father and he said i might find you here.”

“he knows me well then,” you laugh. “this party is amazing, lawrence.”

he smiles and looks over your shoulder before looking back to you. “thank you, should be a good night. i actually have a favour to ask of you.”

your dad was telling the truth then, you thought to yourself, smoothing the fabric of your dress where it had wrinkled from sitting on the bar stool. “sure, what can i do?”

“it’s about lance.”

your heart jumped a little at the mention of the aston-martin driver. it wasn’t that you had a crush on him or anything, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been scanning the room for him since you arrived. you barely even knew him, only seeing him across rooms like this one throughout the many years your fathers had worked together, and exchanging few polite words when you visited the aston-martin garage on race days. sure, you did genuinely enjoy formula 1, but it wasn’t really the racing that had you travelling around from circuit to circuit.

you tried to keep your expression neutral as lawrence continued.

“he’s had a tough couple of races, and i can tell it’s bothering him more than he lets on. you’re a sweet girl, i see the way he looks at you; would you mind keeping him company tonight? just have a drink with him, talk to him for a while? it’ll cheer him up.”

the way he looked at you? god that fed your slight delusion that lance might like you too. you didn’t mean to sound too eager, but you found yourself replying quicker than you meant to.

“yes. i mean, sure. i can do that.”

lawrence laughed and looked behind you once again, this time motioning for you to look as well. lance was walking towards you, expensive suit perfectly tailored to fit his tall, athletic form. when you turned back to lawrence, he’d disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to finally have a real conversation with the driver.

“hey, were you just speaking to my dad?” he asked, taking up the empty seat beside you.

it took you a second to stop ogling him enough to respond. he looked really good, especially this close up.

“um, yeah. he was just asking if i’d seen my dad.”

lance called the bartender over. “oh yeah! i like your dad, he’s nice,” he said happily before ordering a glass of what was surely a top-shelf whiskey. “how is he?”

“he’s good. i think he’s trying to get one of his companies onto your car, actually.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled. “i’d tell you more if i was interested enough in his business to ask.”

he smiled back at you. “i haven’t seen you around the paddock in a while, you know.”

a wave of alcohol-induced confidence overtook you. “miss me?”

“i don’t know if i’d say that,” he teased. “i think my last good race was spa, though, and i definitely remember you being there.”

“you do?”

“of course, i always like seeing you in the garage.”

your heart was racing in your chest. you’d really thought this was one-sided, you weren’t even convinced before now that he remembered your name. for a moment, you just looked at each other as if you’d both had the same realisation.

“it’s nice to actually talk to you, by the way.”

his statement caught you off guard. “what do you mean?”

lance shifted slightly in his seat. “well, you know. usually whenever i see you at these things you walk in the opposite direction or make yourself busy talking to other people. and it’s so busy in the garage, we’ve never really talked in all these years.”

“yeah, we haven’t,” you replied awkwardly, making quick work of the rest of your martini as you thought about how you would have continued that pattern if it wasn’t for his dad. “but we’re talking now.”

“we’re talking now,” he said, staring at you thoughtfully.

an uncomfortably charged silence fell between you. the background noise of the gala hushed too, as lawrence stood with a microphone to give a speech.

as he spoke, you felt lance’s eyes on you, travelling from your face to the cleavage so perfectly displayed in your gown, then further to the slit that was supposed to end at the middle of your thigh, but had precariously ridden upwards as you sat down. the thought of him checking you out so intently made you involuntarily clench your thighs together, sending a small wave of pleasure through you and dampening your underwear. lance smirked as he noticed the movement, placing one of his large hands on your exposed leg. you turned to face him with blush rising in your cheeks, and the smirk still on his face had your thighs clenching again. testing the waters, lance moved his hand further up your leg with a look in his eyes that was daring you to tell him to stop, but you didn’t. you let him move his hand dangerously higher, hyper-aware of the crowd of people around you in the room who were thankfully giving all their attention to the man speaking at the front.

a low whisper in your ear startled you, as the hand on your thigh lightly brushed your centre. “you look really, really beautiful tonight, y/n.”

a breath hitched in your throat as lance pressed his fingers a little harder against you.

“i think we should go somewhere else,” you managed quietly.

he nodded in agreement, moving his hand to your waist and using the other to help you down from the barstool. you were sneaking out like naughty school children, catching a few funny looks as you made your way to the exit and into the corridor. your fathers saw you weaving through the crowd and smiled at each other across the room, knowing they’d finally succeeded in setting you oblivious lovebirds up as they’d been trying to do with no success until now.

when the door to the gala closed behind you, you looked at lance in slight disbelief that this was happening. another silence fell, the eye contact between you intense and filled with lust and apprehension, both of you hesitant to make the first move after years of long-distance admiration without ever really speaking. your breath was heaving and there was wetness pooling between your legs as you watched each other.

in a split second, lance lurched forwards and roughy grabbed your waist, crashing his lips against yours. you moaned softly into his mouth and let him start to guide you down the corridor, before he decided instead to pick you up and carry you to the nearest bathroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. he placed you carefully onto the counter in the single-stall bathroom and clicked the lock on the door, then came straight back over to you and put his lips on yours again as he pushed the skirt of your dress up to your waist. he dropped to his knees, placing sloppy kisses up your thigh until he reached your underwear, which he pulled down and stuffed into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. your hands found his hair as his tongue made contact with your pussy.

“fuck, lance,” you whined, grinding your hips into his face.

he smiled up at you, your wetness on his lips. “i’ve wanted to do this for so long, y/n, you don’t even know,” he almost growled before licking your cunt again and focusing his efforts onto your clit. his hands gripped your hips, trying to stop them from bucking into him as you whined with your head thrown back. it felt so good, better than any other sex you’d ever had. his tongue felt magical circling your clit between soft sucks, and he had you close to the edge after just a few minutes.

“lance, i’m gonna-”

“you gonna come on my face, baby?” he teased, lifting his head to take in the sight of you above him.

“yeah,” you whined, pushing his face back into you.

you had to clasp a hand over your mouth as you came to avoid making too much noise, especially as lance began to lick up the wetness coming out of you. you tugged on his hair and he got up, a beaming smile on his face. he kissed you gently, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.

“can i fuck you, baby? s’not too much?”

you nodded as you fumbled to unbutton his dress pants.

“use your words, honey,” he murmured into your kiss.

“yes, lance. please.”

he smiled and helped you with his pants, letting them fall to the floor with his underwear. he lined up with your entrance, checking again that you were ok.

“you sure, baby?”

“fuck me, lance, please. i need you.”

he pushed into you with as much restraint as he could manage, not wanting to hurt you but needing to fuck you like he needed air to breathe. you bucked your hips forward, forcing him in further and faster. you felt depraved, but his dick felt so good inside of you you weren’t even ashamed.

“so fucking perfect, y/n,” lance groaned as he thrust into you. “wanted you for so long, i’ve imagined doing this in more ways than you can believe.”

“you think about fucking me a lot?” you smile, panting as you tried to contain yourself.

lance smirked again, leaning to whisper in your ear.

“all the time. you feel so much better than my hand.”

this made you moan again, wrapping your legs tighter around him to feel him deeper.

he kissed you again, but it was messy and mostly just to cover the sounds you were both making until you both reached your climax. you came first, clenching around him as he rutted into you. he moaned when he came, filling you up and lazily fucking his cum back into you.

once you caught your breath, you started to laugh. lance looked at you confused as he fastened his pants again. “what?” he smiled.

“that was so good. i can’t believe it took your dad making me talk to you for that to happen.”

lance pulled a face and repeated himself, this time more alarmed than entertained. “what?”

you laughed again, sliding off the bathroom counter and smoothing the skirt of your gown. “your dad asked my dad to bring me tonight, because he thought you were feeling down after the last few races. that why he was talking to me at the bar, he was asking me to hang out with you.”

“oh my god,” lance laughed, hiding his face in his hands. “i can’t believe he did that. that’s so embarrassing.”

“all’s well that ends well, right?” you smile as you unlock the bathroom door.

“well i am feeling a lot better now. if i crash the car in zandvoort, does that mean we can do this again?” he asked following you back along the corridor he’d carried you down earlier.

“i'd much rather you finished the race,” you grinned, “but i do suppose you’ll have to give those panties back some time.”

you pushed the door open back into the gala, which had become lively again in the time since you’d snuck out, and disappeared into the large group of people. lance was left gazing after you, almost as if nothing had changed at all.

[pathologicalreid]

clue | S.R.

in which penelope hosts a new year's eve party. with a murder mystery theme.

who? spencer reid x fem!journalist!reader

category: fluff, slice of life

content warnings: all of the characters are dressed as detectives. marriage, murder, mentions of blood, fireworks, slight descriptions of fake violence, reader wears a dress, this is very haphazardly proofread. very slightly suggestive in the beginning if you squint.

word count: 2.95k

a/n: happy new year's eve friends! this idea has been rotting in my brain since i read the prompt. i started with the idea that i wanted reader and kristy to win and a dream, and now here i am. it was genuinely so much fun to write. (and now i have spencer x journalist!reader brain rot) i always see people writing for these challenges but this is my first time participating!

i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins' office party challenge based on the prompt "Penelope planned a Murder Mystery party... with a bunch of criminal profilers. Great. (Bonus if a non-profiler wins)" thank you so much for this challenge!

“I have no idea why Penelope felt the need to rent an AirBnB for a New Year’s Eve party,” you whispered, getting out of the car along with Spencer. “Or why we had to dress in costume,” you said, pulling your shawl over your shoulders.

Gently reaching over, Spencer tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ears, “It’s a Penelope Garcia party, that means it’s a production. Additionally, this is the first New Year's Eve we’ve been in town in four years, which means there’s no need for an MHM.”

Grinning up at your fiancé, you responded, “There does seem to be a moratorium on violent crime this holiday season.” The best Christmas gift you received this year was finding Spencer sleeping in bed next to you when you woke up.

You watched him reach into the back of the car for his jacket. The costume description Garcia had given him was similar to what he wore on a normal day. You helped him pick out the brown sweater vest and matching tie, but he selected the rest of the ensemble. “Did I tell you that you look incredible?” He asked, pulling his jacket on.

“I believe those were the words that caused us to be fifteen minutes late, Dr. Reid,” you chided but smiled nonetheless when Spencer pulled you close and embraced you.

You felt him smile against your neck, “Worth it,” he whispered.

Dragging him by the arm, you stood on the porch and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, a familiar voice rang out, “You have to use the knocker!” Penelope called out.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes and took the bronze adornment in your hand and knocked it against the red-painted door. The heavy door swung open and you were greeted by Penelope Garcia, “Welcome Dr. Reid and Someday Mrs. Reid, to the New Year’s party that will, likely, be the New Year’s party to end all New Year’s parties.”

“I have no doubt, Pen,” you stepped forward and hugged her. “You look great, I love this color,” you told her, settling your hands on your shoulders. She wore a lime green button-down dress with an old-timey collar, and her blonde locks were pulled up into a French twist.

Spencer and Penelope greeted each other, and Garcia led the two of you to a sitting room, “Where did you find this house?” Spencer asked, walking in behind you.

She waved him off, “I am the master of all things Internet, I found it online and thought it was perfect.”

Your heels clicked as you followed the two of them. They were quicker, Penelope knew where she was going and Spencer naturally had a long stride, not to mention the restriction of your gown. “Perfect for what, exactly?” You inquired.

“A BAU Murder Mystery party!” She answered as if it was obvious.

A wolf whistle from the other side of the room caught your attention, you turned around to see Tara grinning at you, “Well how about you.”

Blushing, you spread the skirt of the red silk dress out and gave a fake curtsy, “Oh this? Just something I had lying around.” In reality, you borrowed the dress from a coworker. Its only fault was being just barely too long for you.

Once you observed Tara’s costume, an off-white button-up with brown suspenders and matching pants, the gears in your head clicked into place. “We’re dressed as characters from Clue?” You asked, looking at everyone’s costumes. It all suddenly made so much sense, you were Miss Scarlet, and Tara was meant to be Colonel Mustard.

“Well, there are only so many characters to choose from, so I needed some other detectives to choose from. I picked Nancy Drew, Spencer is Sherlock Holmes with Matt as his Watson, and Krystall is Jessica Fletcher from the renowned television show Murder She Wrote.” Penelope pointed at guests as she explained their outfits, “Kristy is Daphne of the differently renowned television show Scooby Doo, and Luke refused to dress up at Hercule Poirot.”

Your eyebrows raised up, “I didn’t know not dressing up was an option,” you admitted. Despite the weather being unseasonably warm, you were still cold in your dress.

Sending a pointed look in Luke’s direction, Penelope cleared her throat before responding, “It wasn’t.”

Putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt, Luke feigned shock, “I did dress up as a very famous detective. Matt Simmons of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“But does that really count as famous?” The man himself, Matt asked teasingly.

In response, Luke gestured around the room, “Everyone here has heard of him.”

You tuned the two of them out. When provided the time, the two of them could bicker for hours. You looked at everyone else’s costumes, the rest of the group was from the board game. Emily was Mrs. White, Rossi was Professor Plum, JJ was Mrs. Peacock, and Will was Mr. Green.

The BAU spent so much time sequestered solving crimes that it was a wonder to have the entire group here at the same time.

After effectively shushing Luke, Penelope made her way to the center of the room, “Okay, I know what you’re all thinking ‘Penelope, we spend all of our days solving murders, why would you plan a murder mystery party?’” She stood up straight, pushing her shoulders back, “Well, I’ll tell you, the idea for this party came to me when I had the flu last month.”

“Are you telling us this party was conceived from a fever dream?” Emily asked, she leaned forward in her all-white outfit, resting her elbows on her knees.

Pointing at Emily, Penelope grinned, “That is exactly what I am telling you, my dear. Now, let me set the stage for you.” She clapped and the lights went out, bringing everyone’s attention to a projector screen that had just lit up against the only bare wall in this room. “Our victim was a resident of this house. What’s her name? You might ask. Patricia Gomez, heiress to a large fortune and a company that makes socks.”

A quiet chuckle came from the other side of the room, “This is quite the fever dream.” You had to agree with Rossi, Patricia Gomez was an almost painfully uncreative name. Still, everyone went along with it.

“Save all questions until the end, please!” Penelope scolded, “I have folders made up for each of you, with information on where your characters all were at the time of the murder. Before attending this party, the killer was already notified of their status, they may try to fool you.”

You skimmed through the folder that the technical analyst had handed you, it looked like a real FBI folder, but you didn’t doubt that Garcia had resources to make realistic fake files. The body had been found, stabbed in the kitchen, the time of death set at noon.

Matt stood up first, reaching out his hand for Kristy to take, but they didn’t get far. “Oh no, no partnering with your partners,” Penelope said, laying down another rule for her party.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked, looking between you and her. It was sweet knowing that he had wanted to team up with you, it reminded you of how you first met. The FBI profiler and the investigative journalist.

Garcia sighed, “If you are canoodling with someone, you may not investigate with them.”

You shrugged at Spencer and walked toward Kristy instead, “What do you say, Daphne? Shall we?”

“Oh, I think we shall,” Kristy responded, hooking her arm through yours.

“Hey,” Luke interrupted, “It’s not fair for the investigative journalist and the lawyer to be teamed up to solve a murder.”

Stopping in your tracks, you stared at him for a moment, “Luke, you work for the FBI. If anything, I think we’re at a disadvantage.”

Together, you and Kristy made your way to the kitchen, as you walked away you heard Luke ask Garcia to be his partner, the two of you laughed as she told him she wasn’t playing because, “Somebody has to keep things organized, Newbie!”

Looking around the kitchen, you found a chalk outline, but not much else. Of course, this wasn’t a real crime scene, there would be no blood, and for all you knew, Kristy was the killer.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” You asked Rossi, who had teamed up with JJ. Maybe a seasoned profiler would push you in the right direction.

He cocked his head like he was weighing his options, “Well, the folder says there were only four people in the building at the time of the murder, and only one of them was close enough to the kitchen to pull it off. Logically, the best option is Mrs. White.”

So, he thought Emily was responsible. You scrawled some notes down about the kitchen before you and Kristy decided to move to the bedroom, “It says Watson – Matt - was in the main bedroom at the time of the murder, Mrs. White – Emily - was in the pantry, Jessica Fletcher – Krystall – was in the basement, and Professor Plum – Rossi – was in the library,” you read from the file.

“Then Dave is right, Emily is the only one who was close enough to get to Patricia,” Kristy reasoned. There wouldn’t have been time for anyone else to commit the crime in between the time the body was found and the time of death. The timeline of events was very short.

You shrugged, “Then I guess we could probably go to the library until the timer runs out.” Picking up the skirt of your dress, the two of you left the bathroom and walked into the library. Leaning up against the shelves, you intertwined your fingers in front of you, “Do you have plans for the new year?” You asked Kristy, tilting your head.

She hummed, “A lot of our plans tend to change. You know, with Matt’s job and the kids, but we’d like to take some kind of vacation, even if it’s just a day trip.” She answered, brushing her long hair over her shoulder, “What about you?”

“Oh,” you said, “You know, getting married.” You answered, “Then we’re just planning on seeing where life takes us, I think. You’re right, it’s hard to plan around the job. I can’t imagine adding kids into the mix.” The thought gave you a whole new respect for Kristy – and Will, for that matter.

Kristy smiled, “Totally worth it, though.”

Laughing it off, you pushed yourself off of the shelving, “I think I’ll take your word for it,” you responded. “For now,” you added, looking around the library.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, following your gaze around the library.

Realizing this must be how the BAU feels all the time, you answered, “Something is bothering me about this case.” Kristy beckoned for you to go on, “They all solve crimes like this every day, so in order to make it fun for them, Penny would have to make it at least a little bit of a challenge, right?” You asked.

“You think it was too easy?” Kristy asked.

You started pacing around the library, along the front of the desk. “The answer being Emily is too easy. There has to be something more to it.”

“Well, the file says she had experienced a blow to the head shortly before her death. So, is it possible she was incapacitated somewhere else and then moved to the kitchen to be killed?” Kristy asked, flipping through the file, she was sat on top of the wooden desk.

Nodding, you looked at the generated picture of your fake victim. She wore a large ruby necklace, her hair was pinned up, but in the list of effects and evidence, a necklace was never mentioned. “Did you see a necklace in the kitchen?” You asked, flicking your eyes over in her direction.

Immediately, she shook her head you spun around to go back to the kitchen. Mid-spin the heel of your shoe hooked into the too-long fabric of your dress, causing you to tumble ungracefully to the floor. “Are you alright?” Kristy asked. Not for the first time tonight, you found yourself jealous of her shorter dress. Damned board game characters.

Groaning in response, you blinked in an attempt to reorient yourself. In your peripheral vision, something caught your eye: a necklace. “Kristy,” you whispered urgently, hoisting yourself up into a sitting position before reaching over to grab the gold chain. It was crusted with something red that you could only hope was ketchup. Unless Penelope was taking this game way too seriously.

You lifted the chain curiously. “That’s the necklace that Patricia was wearing when she died!” Kristy exclaimed, “But that means…”

“Rossi did it,” you said from the floor. “And he tried to fool us with his poker face.”

Setting the necklace on the desk, you reached down to take your heels off. Kristy spoke, “Do you think the necklace is enough evidence for us to make our case?”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at her, “I don’t know. You’re the lawyer, do you think it’s enough evidence?”

She nodded, “I think the evidence pointing to Emily is circumstantial, but this necklace has substance to it. And no one else has gone through the library, so at the very least we’ll have a unique answer.”

You grinned, “I like the way you think, Mrs. Simmons.” You reached out your hand and she helped you up, “Let’s go show these FBI agents how it’s done.” The two of you headed back to the sitting room.

The room was full when you got there, “Ah, I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for the two of you!” Penelope said, “Sit, sit, I’m sure we have some excellent conclusions to go through.” She handed the both of you glasses of wine before you sat down next to each other on the velvet chaise lounge.

Honestly, it reminded you of grade school. When your teacher would go through the answers on the homework, only for you to find that, somewhere, you had done something terribly wrong. By the time it got to you and Kristy, half of the people said it was Emily, almost half had said it was Matt, and one person said it was Kristy.

Nonetheless, the two of you stood up and announced your conclusion, “it was Rossi,” you said in unison.

“First, we met with David in the kitchen, and we asked him what he thought,” you said. “He could’ve said no, he could’ve said something else, but he told us how he thought Emily Prentiss was the killer.” You explained, “Now, as extremely professional detectives, we know that frequently, killers can’t help but insert themselves into the investigations.”

Lifting her hand in a waiting gesture, Kristy continued, “But we heard him out, and we trusted his conclusion. Until we didn’t, that is.” She said, “After some more expert investigation, we went to the library, where Rossi had claimed to have been at the time of the murder. It was there that my partner discovered the victim's necklace. It was broken as if it had been torn off of her neck, and there was blood on the chain.”

“This is combined with the report that the victim had experienced a blow to the head before she died, which could’ve easily been inflicted by the corner of the very desk I discovered the necklace beneath,” you resumed. “We propose that David Rossi, otherwise known as Professor Plum, incapacitated the victim in the library, before moving her to the kitchen so he could claim he had no part in her death.”

Rossi looked up at Penelope, who grinned and nodded, “I didn’t even realize I had done that in the kitchen earlier. Are you by chance looking for a new line of work?” He asked, getting a chorus of laughter in response.  

“For my two winners,” Garcia said, her smile still bright as she draped two medals around your and Kristy’s necks. “Thank you, everyone, so much for playing this game. I know it’s hard to see it as a game when it all feels so real, but I appreciate you for separating fact and fiction for tonight.”

It was Luke who responded first, “Of course.”

“But maybe,” Rossi said, raising his wine glass in his hand, “Maybe next year we’ll just do a normal party.”

Tara raised her glass in response, “If you’re hosting, I’m attending.”

You nodded, concurring, “Far be it from me to miss a BAU party.”

Behind you, Spencer loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, “It’s almost the new year.”

“Aha!” Penelope said, “I have one last surprise for all of my favorite people! If you’ll just follow me out to the deck, we’ll be able to see the fireworks from here!”

Outside, the cool air bit at your bare skin. Ever the gentleman, Spencer draped his jacket over your shoulders. Grateful for the warmth, you pushed your arms through the sleeves and turned to face him, “You know, we’ve been together for years, but this will be our first New Year’s kiss.” You said, studying his face, every detail that you’ve come to know over the past few years.

Distantly, you heard the rest of the group counting down, but you were too focused on Spencer. “It won’t be our last, though,” he promised.

You grinned up at him, “As long as we get to go to the BAU party, Sherlock.”

“Of course,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Happy New Year, Miss Scarlett.”

[aurora-darling]

Lost to you - part 1

Halsin x F!Reader/Tav

a spin on Halsin's confession, my dearies.

NSFW warning; adult themes - some mentions of death and sexual stuff :>

In all his 350 years he had never seen a beauty like yours. You were a kind soul, with a loving heart that radiated affectionately. You were by his side through it all, and you never asked for anything in return. You had saved him from that barbaric Goblin camp and stayed by his side ever since. He was astounded by your commitment to helping those in need and your selfless way to protect the innocent. There wasn’t a day that went by that you weren’t assisting someone and you continued to do so with Halsin. 

And it got you hurt. 

You were fighting the shadows, keeping them from the portal while Halsin looked for Thaniel. You had begged to come with him and he refused, telling you he needed to do this alone. No matter how much you protested to go with him, he declined. Halsin stood his ground, telling you it was something he needed to do on his own. His only focus was saving Thaniel, lifting the curse and you might get in his way. When he finally returned, carrying the Fey-child in his arms, he saw your companions standing over you. You were motionless on the ground, your quarterstaff thrown far from your body. You had been tossed like a doll across the sand. You were deathly still - a corpse. Halsin felt torn as his blood ran cold since you weren't moving. “By Balduran's bones, no! Get her up, now!” He heard Wyll shout as your warlock dashed toward you. The others followed quickly, your ragtag party hovering over your body as they worked to resurrect you. 

You had startled awake, coughing profusely as you sat up and gasped for air. Your hands shook, your fingers grasping your necklace tightly as Wyll knelt to soothe you. Your red locks fell across your shoulders, your gray eyes hidden from Halsin. His heart pained at your stature, it was obvious you were in shock. You were crying, sobbing into Wylls arms as remnants of the curse lingered through your tiny body. Halsin stood still, his childhood friend also unconscious in his arms. His teeth pulled at the skin on his bottom lip as he contemplated his next move; should he be at your side or bring Thaniel to safety? Before he could make his decision he watched as your warlock, Wyll, picked you up in his arms. You were small for a human, your arms around Wyll's neck as he cradled you. Halsin felt a feeling foreign to him, a jealousy as he wanted to be the one to care for you. He watched Wyll walk away with you, his teeth gritting together as your face pressed into Wyll’s neck. Halsin shook the thoughts from his mind and made his way to your camp as well.

Halsin kept himself busy, avoiding all thoughts of you until he saw Wyll approach him, still carrying you in his arms. Halsin’s pointed ears perked up at the sight of you. Your robe had been removed and someone had dressed you in your night gown. He hushed as Thaniel began to question him, tugging on Halsin's shirt and waited for Wyll to speak. “She’s alive but could use some healing,” Wyll reassured him, he could read the expression on Halsin’s face. Wyll’s hands tightened his grip on you, his left eye looking over your body as you mumbled in your sleep. You were shaking, your lips still a blueish tint and your grip on Wyll’s clothing was just as tight. Halsin remained silent as he watched you, your life essence had yet to replenish. His heart dropped as he saw the dark color of your fingertips and the ghoulish hue of your skin. You were far from alright, you were on the balance between life and death. It was as if you were a ghost and he couldn’t bring himself to stare at you. His eyes drift to the ground as his heart falls to his feet. 

How could he do this to you?

How could he let this happen?

You were his savior and because of you, his Grove had their archdruid back. He gave you one night of celebrations after your victory with the Goblins before he asked for another favor. Halsin could feel his throat tighten, the feeling of crying out overwhelming him. He wanted to apologize profusely, to beg for your forgiveness. No, he wouldn’t break down in front of you. He wouldn’t burden you with the task of saving him, again. Of having to help him with another task, ever again. Halsin steps forward, “Tavlena.” he says, his brows lowered with concern. You groan at the sound of his voice and rub your face into Wyll’s chest. Halsin’s thin lips pursed together, his teeth biting them both. He clears his throat as he watches Wyll soothe you, that feeling of jealousy building in Halsin’s chest. “Little duck..” Halsin whispers as you finally open your eyes slowly, and tilt your face in the direction of his voice. Your eyes were glazed over, almost white and you seemed to look through him. Your spirit was broken, the once maiden of the forest he fell for long gone. You needed healing, and soon.

Halsin can feel tears swelling in his eyes as he blinks them away. He would not leave you, his savior, in this state. “I shall heal you, my heart.” He whispers and rubs the sweat away from his brow. “Please, take her to my tent. This way.” Halsin could barely speak, his voice cracking as he beconked Wyll to follow him. Wyll’s eyebrow raised at the site of Halsin’s tent, or lack of it. There was fabric strung up on poles to give shade but no privacy. Wyll could feel his concern for your safety building immensley and held you tighter, his fingers curling into your soft flesh. “My friend with all due respect. I can’t lay her on that.” Wyll motions toward a blanket that covers hay, a makeshift bed. Halsin looks at his bedroll and shakes his head. “Apologies but this isn’t the time to be finicky. She needs to be whole again.” Halsin motions for Wyll to lay you down and walks to obtain potions he stored away in his pack. Wyll sighs heavily but obliges and kneels to lay you gently on the ground. Halsin looks over his shoulder behind him, carefully observing the warlock’s actions. He watches as the Blade of Frontiers whispers over you, his hand stroking your cheek and stands his attention now at Halsin. “Be careful with her, please.” Wyll looked at Halsin intensely, his last word bearing more meaning that just the word. Halsin nodded, holding a healing salve in his hands. He cleared his throat as he knelt beside you, his hand over you as he spoke his incantation. “Te curo.” He whispers, his heart torn over almost losing you. Again. 

Once your healing had begun, Wyll excused himself to check on the others, leaving the two of you alone. Halsin repeated his spell once more, watching the bright blue glow engulf your fragile body. His mind started racing. How many times would he put you in danger? You were far more important than he, your veins flowed with the blood of Toril a rite you undertook when you were young. Halsin had heard the tales of the beautiful priestesses of Chauntea—the Goddess of life itself, the Earthmother. He worshiped you at your feet, your very presence a gift to him. Silvanus would be disappointed in his servant, his archdruid letting a maiden of the forest perish in front of him. Halsin sat next to your sleeping body, his large frame casting a shadow over you. His eyes focused on your breathing, counting the breaths you took until you were stable. He kept his composure, his focus on your health most important. Halsin sighed in relief when your cheeks flushed a shade of rose, his healing worked. There was an errie silence, only noises coming from the torches burning by his tent. Your companions had retired for the night and Thaniel was taking a stroll by the creek. Halsin lifted his fingers to brush your arm, his lips curled into a smile as he realized how soft you were. You were so brave, so powerful, and yet so delicate. He yearned to protect you, to serve you. He was your Green Knight after all.

Halsin had moved to sit in front, his back facing you. He had removed his armor for the night and passed the time carving, his attention entirely on his task. Your eyes fluttered open and you were instantly overwhelmed with the rush of consciousness, your head spinning. Halsin’s ears perked up immediately, his face turning to look at you. His eyes opened wide as he failed to collect his thoughts. He tried to speak, his hand almost reaching out to touch you. “Tavlena.” His voice is low and thick with concern. You try to sit up on his bedroll but hiss at the pain in your abdomen and fall back just as quickly. Groaning you throw your arm over your head and sigh, shaking your head and asking your earthmother for guidance. “Mother of all flowers, please release me of this pain- it’s unbearable.” You laugh and pull your arm away, winking at Halsin. You loved to tease him, your large protector. He would  normally blush, the tips of his pointed ears a deep red, and chuckle, his gaze averting yours. This time however you noticed Halsin looking at you with painful eyes, his lips turning into a frown. You could sense something was troubling him so you smiled and rubbed your face and thanked him. “I could feel my life slipping, thank you for saving me.” You stared at the ceiling of his tent, the stars present in the small opening of the top. Halsin smiles as he looks for Thaniel, watching the fey child skip stones across the water. “I wouldn’t dare let a daughter of the Great Mother perish.” He says, his face turning to look at you now, his expression is solemn. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever. Is what he wanted to say. 

You smile and twirl your hair around your finger, your eyes observing the amber highlights in the torchlight. “She would be angry with me if she saw the blow I took.” You sigh, your face turning to observe the area around you. Halsin had hung gourds full of herbs for healing salves and potions. You smiled as you knew those exact ingredients, spells, and recipes only passed down to those of your clergy. There were scrolls depicting plants and a few animal bones scattered about. He was untidy, keeping no furniture and you would mostly catch him sitting in the dirt. To anyone else it was barbaric, to anyone else he was a wildman. Yet to you, he was beautiful. He was connected to nature, a true servant of Silvanus.“She would be proud.” He responds and your eyes look toward him, his face is apologetic. Halsin looks as if he’s about to break, his green eyes filling with tears. “You were magnificent. You were so brave, so-” He stops himself, shaking his head and sniffing back tears. “Ah, forgive me I don’t know what came over me, I-” He stops again and turns to look at you. 

His heart swells at that look on your face. Did you have to look so loving?

“Halsin.” You say in a tone that has his member throbbing with desire. “What troubles you love?” You had moved your arms above your head, you were a sight to behold. Your bright gray eyes shined with kindness as always, your cute way of scrunching your nose when you caught him looking at you. You would smile and shake your head lovingly, your red curls falling across your forehead. You lie still before him and nudge him with your toe for an answer. He looks across your body and his heart warmed at the idea that his bedroll would smell like you, like honeysuckle. Halsin nodded in agreement as you whine and teased him with his name again, he knew he should tell you. That he should let go and confess his feelings for you. Silvanus had delivered you to him, he could feel it in his soul. He felt it the moment his eyes saw you, the little wrath of Mother Nature standing up to Goblins to free him from his prison. He loved you since then, his heart now in turmoil that he chose Thaniel over you. But no matter how he felt, he was still a servant of Silvanus first and foremost. 

And you came second. 

Halsin sighs and moves to sit next to you, dusting his palms on his pants leg. He kept his gaze from you, staring at the wood carvings to avoid throwing himself at you. To avoid begging for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry.” He says, his fingers scratching the large scars across his face. He had joked about the story behind it and regretted telling you, would you ever see him as your strong Archdruid again? Or did you see him as a pathetic excuse of a leader? You breathe in deep and Halsin can sense your frustration. “For what?” You ask your arm over your eyes again. He looks as you bite your bottom lip, your teeth raking over it as you await his answer. “You were injured. I asked you to stay behind and I took too long. I shouldn’t have asked you to.” He responds simply, his large hand rubbing his forehead. He didn’t want to admit his guilt, he was terrified that you would agree. 

What if you blamed him?

You prop yourself on your elbows, your eyes looking across the camp as you gather your thoughts. You could see the candle light flicker in Wylls tent, your eyes looking back at your archdruid. “Yes, but you healed me and I’m alive because you did so. I was the one who made a mistake, not you.” You say with the same tone as Halsin. You could play this game too. Halsin sighs this time, his eyes looking at your abdomen. “Yes, but you’re still in pain. I couldn’t heal you completely.” He retorts, his nose wrinkling as he thinks of his failure, he couldn’t even heal you entirely. You groan in frustration as you move your arm to touch him, your hand clasping his shoulder. “Please don’t burden yourself with that. I’m fine, see?” You squeeze his shoulder and Halsin can feel himself faltering, he leans to press his lips on your fingertips. He breathed in your scent again, sweet honeysuckle. He could feel his desire building, his eyes betrayed him as he looked at you, your gaze trapping him instantly. 

Halsin moves immediately over you, his face leaning over yours. You can see the symbol of the oak father displayed on his camp ensemble, his necklace dangling over your lips. “Oak Father.” He moans, his green eyes glowing as you tease him with your expressions. You smile devilishly, your eyelids closing slowly, your tongue gliding over your bottom lip before you bite it slowly. “Ursidae.” You call him, your fingers reaching up to trace his lips. “Preserve me.” He pleads, his hands grasping fistfuls of the blanket under you. “You’ll be the absolute death of me.” You breathe sharply as your desire for him builds as well, your breasts rising and falling as you crave his touch. 

Halsin notices, his eyes taking in every curve of your body. He loved how fertile you looked, the shape of you sending him spiraling. He could recall the nights he spent in the woods, lost over thoughts of your beauty. Of your legs. Your hips. Your breasts. 

Halsin groans as you spread your legs for him, the sight of your night dress sliding up your plump thighs. He could feel his need to sink his teeth into them, to devour your legs with kisses while he pleases you. You notice the lustful look in his eyes and test him, your fingers tracing up his shirt, over the small opening that exposed his large chest. His body felt so warm, so smooth and strong. You giggle as Halsin takes ahold of your hand and buries his face in it, inhaling deeply. “Please.” He whispers into your hand, his eyes looking into yours. “Please what?” You ask, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Do you know how hard this has been? How hard it’s been to contain myself?” He asks, his eyes closing as he holds your hand against his face. “I’m afraid to-” He stops himself again, his fear of showing you his weakness consuming him. You remained silent, your eyes observing the gentle giant above you. Halsin smiles painfully, his heart torn between giving in and keeping himself from what he feared most. “I won’t stop until I devour you whole.” He confesses.

He was afraid of losing control. 

You smile with your eyes as he watches your lips form to whisper those three little words he longed for, his heart swelling as you say them.

 “I trust you.” 

[valkyriexo]

My Favorite Princess | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Husband! Dad! Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff

ᑉ³warnings; none

ᑉ³Authors Note; Hope you all enjoy :)

As you prepare for your daughter, Areum's Cinderella-themed birthday party, the air is alive with anticipation. Your little princess has been dreaming of this day for weeks, and you're determined to make it a fairytale come true.

With Hyunjin by your side, you dive into the task of transforming your home and backyard into a magical kingdom straight out of a storybook. The party decor team bustles around, hanging shimmering streamers in shades of blue and silver, while fairy lights twinkle like stars in the night sky.

"Let's place the Cinderella carriage centerpiece right in the center of the table," you suggest, pointing to the elegant coach adorned with sparkling crystals. "And we can scatter glass slipper confetti around it for an extra touch of magic."

As you direct the placement of each decoration, you can't help but feel a surge of joy at the thought of your daughter's delight. This party is more than just a celebration—it's a chance to make her dreams come true.

"Mommy, Daddy, look at this!" your daughter exclaims, twirling in her blue tulle dress as she examines the decorations. She is dressed in a custom-made Cinderella gown. As for you and Hyunjin, you've opted for a more casual approach to your attire, both donning outfits in shades of blue to match the party's color scheme.

"It's like I'm really in Cinderella's castle!" she continues.

You smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through your heart. "It's all for you, sweetheart." 

Hyunjin crouches down to his daughter's level, his eyes sparkling with affection as he takes in her excitement. "You look absolutely beautiful, just like Cinderella herself," he says, his voice filled with warmth.

She giggles, twirling once more, the skirt billowing around her like a cloud of magic. "Thank you, Daddy!" she chirps, reaching out to take his hand. In her other hand, she clutches Jiniret, dressed like one of the mice from Cinderella. "I'm so happy!"

Your heart swells with love as you watch the tender moment between father and daughter. Despite the stress of last-minute preparations, seeing the joy on their faces makes it all worth it.

Hyunjin takes her hand gently, his touch reassuring as he leads her out towards the backyard. The sun casts a golden glow over the meticulously decorated space, where shimmering streamers in shades of blue and silver dance in the gentle breeze. A canopy draped with twinkling fairy lights adds a touch of enchantment to the scene, creating an atmosphere fit for a princess's celebration.

Meanwhile, you continue to oversee the placement of decorations, your attention focused on every intricate detail. Each corner of the backyard and house is adorned with magical touches. Banners depicting scenes from Cinderella's story flutter gently in the wind, adding to the whimsical ambiance.

As the party guests begin to arrive, your home fills with laughter and excitement. The air is filled with the aroma of freshly baked treats, from cupcakes adorned with edible glass slippers to sandwiches cut into pumpkin shapes. Tables are adorned with bowls of fruit arranged artfully to resemble a majestic castle.

Areum eagerly greets each newcomer with a radiant smile, her eyes scanning the crowd in anticipation, hoping to catch a glimpse of the "real-life Cinderella." She can hardly contain her joy as she awaits the arrival of the enchanting princess she's been dreaming of meeting.

"Daddy, Mommy, when is Cinderella coming?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Hyunjin chuckles warmly, ruffling her hair affectionately. "She'll be here soon, sweetheart," he assures her.

Your phone suddenly buzzes with an incoming call. With a furrowed brow, you step away to answer the incoming call. You were eagerly awaiting the delivery of the cake, and were hoping it wasn't a last-minute hiccup.

"Be back soon," you murmur, offering a reassuring smile before stepping away. "Hello?" you answer.

On the other end of the line, you hear a hurried voice speaking, delivering the news you had feared. "I'm sorry to inform you that the princess performer has fallen ill and won't be able to make it to the party," the voice says, its tone apologetic.

Anxiety begins to creep up within you as you hang up the phone, your mind swirling with worry. How will you possibly break this devastating news to your daughter? And more pressing still, how will you salvage her dream birthday party now?

In the background, curiosity sparkles in your daughter's eyes as she turns to Hyunjin. "Daddy, what do you think Cinderella's like?" she asks, her voice filled with wonder.

Hyunjin grins down at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, I think she's probably very kind and brave, just like you," he replies, his voice soft and reassuring.

Your daughter beams at the comparison, her heart swelling with pride. "Do you think she has a prince, like in the story?" she asks, her excitement growing with each word.

Hyunjin's smile widens as he considers her question. "I think so," he says with a playful wink. "But let me ask you something, my little princess. What do you like the most about Cinderella?"

Your daughter's brow furrows in thought as she considers his question.

As she nods enthusiastically, she reaches out to squeeze Hyunjin's hand. "I love that Cinderella's prince always finds a way to be there for her when she needs him the most."

Hyunjin chuckles at her observation, his eyes shining with affection. "Ah, so you're a fan of the prince, then?" he teases, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"He's like a hero," she declares, her eyes shining with admiration.

As your daughter's excitement fills the air, your thoughts race, scrambling for a solution to the sudden dilemma. It's already an hour into the party, and with the festivities in full swing, so finding a replacement princess performer seems virtually impossible.

Hyunjin's laughter breaks through your frantic thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment. His gaze flickers briefly to you, sensing something amiss. A subtle shift in your demeanor doesn't escape his notice, and a furrow creases his brow as he registers your troubled expression.

"Mommy, are you okay?" your daughter asks, her concern mirroring Hyunjin's.

You force a smile, attempting to reassure her. "I'm fine, sweetie," you say, your voice catching slightly. "Just... thinking about somethin-"

But before you can even finish the sentence, he's already spinning a new tale. "Oh my goodness, look who's here! Your best friend Ha-ri just arrived!" he exclaims, his voice filled with excitement.

"Really?" your daughter gasps, her eyes widening with anticipation.

Without another word, she darts off towards the entrance, her Cinderella gown billowing behind her as she races to see her friend.

As your daughter bounds off to greet the guests, Hyunjin's playful demeanor fades, replaced by genuine concern. He stands beside you, his hand gently squeezing yours as he senses your distress.

"Is everything alright?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what has occured.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "The princess performer... she's unable to make it," you explain, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I don't know how to tell our daughter."

Panic continues to bubble within you, your mind racing with thoughts of your daughter's shattered expectations. She had been so excited for Cinderella to be there, and now you're at a loss for how to break the news to her.

"She's going to be devastated," you murmur, your voice catching with emotion. "All she wanted was Cinderella... she didn't even ask for presents."

Hyunjin's expression softens as he listens to your words, his heart aching for both you and Areum. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace.

"I don't know what to do, Hyunjin," you admit, your voice trembling with worry. "How do we make this up to her?"

Hyunjin's arms tighten around you, his touch a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. "Shh, love, we'll figure it out," he murmurs, his voice gentle and soothing. "We'll make her birthday unforgettable, even without Cinderella."

Your words hang heavy in the air, the weight of disappointment pressing down on both of you. "But we'll never live it down if it doesn't happen," you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

Hyunjin's touch is tender as he brushes away a stray tear. "Don't worry about that," he says softly, his voice filled with determination. "You worry about greeting the guests and looking pretty. I'll take care of it, okay?"

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of your despair. With a shaky nod, you lean into his embrace, finding solace in the strength of his arms.

"Okay," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Okay."

As Hyunjin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. With a shaky exhale, you reluctantly release yourself from his embrace, returning your focus to the tasks at hand.

As you make your way to the backyard to check on the guests, Hyunjin disappears into the depths of the house, determined to salvage the birthday celebration. Amidst the hustle and bustle of serving guests and attending to last-minute details, you lose track of time.

An hour passes in a blur, and as you glance around , you realize that Hyunjin is still nowhere to be found. A sense of worry hits you.

Where could he be?

Before you can dwell on your concerns any further, your daughter's voice interrupts your thoughts. She stands before you, eyes wide with anticipation, hope evident in her voice.

"Mommy, is the princess coming soon?" she asks eagerly.

You search for the right words to soothe her, but the truth catches in your throat.

"I... I'm not sure, sweetheart," you reply, your voice faltering. "But let's focus on enjoying the party, okay?"

As your daughter's questions become more persistent and her restlessness grows, you feel the weight of your uncertainty bearing down on you. Each inquiry chips away at you, until you're on the brink of revealing the truth to her.

But just as you open your mouth to speak, the sound of hoofbeats and the creak of carriage wheels cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks. 

Your daughter's eyes widen in wonder as she turns to you, a spark of hope dancing in her gaze. "Mommy, do you hear that?" she asks, her voice tinged with excitement.

Before you can respond, the source of the sound emerges from around the bend, and there, coming into view, is a magnificent horse-drawn carriage led by a majestic steed.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize the unmistakable look of a horse-drawn carriage. At the reins is Minho, dressed in regal attire from head to toe. And in the carriage, dressed in shimmering all-white attire, is Hyunjin, a dazzling smile gracing his features.

As the carriage comes to a stop before you, your daughter's face lights up with sheer delight. "I get to have my own carriage!" she exclaims, her voice filled with joy.

Hyunjin chuckles warmly, stepping down from the carriage and sweeping your daughter into his arms. "Of course, my dear," he says, his tone tender. "Why bring Cinderella when you are already a princess? My favorite princess, at that."

Your daughter beams at the compliment, her cheeks flushing with happiness. "And every princess needs her prince, right?" she says, her eyes shining with adoration.

But the surprises don't end there. Coming out of the the carriage is Chan, dressed in an elaborate costume that can only be described as the Fairy Godmother.

Chan, with an exasperated sigh, straightens his posture and adopts a stern expression. He clears his throat.

"Hello, I am Chanita, your Fairy Godmother," he announces in a deadpan tone, clearly not thrilled about his role. You watch as Minho snickers in amusement.

But before he can continue, Hyunjin elbows him so hard that Chan's tone changes abruptly, now filled with excitement. "And I'm here to grant all your birthday wishes!" he exclaims, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

As Chan waves his wand theatrically, a burst of glitter fills the air, and your daughter's laughter fills the space around you. "Fairy Godmother!" she cries with glee, running towards Chan.

Your daughter giggles with delight as Chan scoops her up in his arms, placing her gently inside the carriage. She squeals with excitement as he lifts her, her laughter echoing through the air as she settles into the plush seat.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin descends from the carriage and comes to your side, a grin playing on his lips.

"How did this happen?" you ask incredulously, shaking your head in disbelief.

Hyunjin chuckles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I may have called in a few favors," he admits, his tone teasing. "You know, just to make our little princess's birthday extra special."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to resist pressing for more details. "And how on earth did you convince Chan to be the Fairy Godmother?" you inquire, still trying to wrap your head around the unexpected turn of events.

A grin spreads across Hyunjin's face as he leans in to whisper in your ear. "Well, let's just say Changbin wasn't available, and Chan and Minho both lost a bet and owed me a favor," he confesses, his voice laced with amusement.

As your daughter's joyful laughter fills the air, she calls out to Hyunjin, her voice echoing with excitement. "Daddy, come ride with me!" she exclaims, her eyes alight with anticipation.

Hyunjin's eyes sparkle with amusement as he glances at you, a silent question in his gaze. With a nod and a smile, you encourage him to indulge your daughter's request.

As Hyunjin climbs into the carriage, he keeps his gaze fixed on you, his eyes filled with so much love it's palpable. A smile blooms on your lips, and the warmth in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by your daughter.

"You really love mommy, don't you?" she observes, her voice filled with curiosity.

Hyunjin's smile widens as he turns his attention to his daughter, his heart overflowing with affection. "Yes, sweetheart," he confirms, his voice tender. "Your mommy is my favorite princess."

Your daughter's eyes light up with understanding, and she snuggles closer to him, her small hand finding his. "That's why you're always going to be my favorite prince."

"Why?" Hyunjin asks, his gaze softening with affection as he looks at his daughter, waiting for her answer.

"Because you love mommy more than anyone else," she continues, her gaze unwavering. "And I want to be just like you, loving someone so much it makes magic happen."

Hyunjin's heart swells with pride as he listens to his daughter's heartfelt words. "That's right," he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "Your mommy is the most special person in the world to me."

He intertwines his fingers with hers, holding her hand gently as he speaks. "And you, my dear, are the most precious princess," he continues, his eyes shimmering with love.

With a shared smile, they set off on their enchanting carriage ride, the gentle clip-clop of the horse's hooves accompanying their journey.

As the wind tousles their hair and the golden sunlight bathes them in its warm glow, Hyunjin leans in to whisper in her ear. "Happy birthday my sweet girl," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand promises. "I love you."

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

could you write a azriel/reader fic where he only starts dating reader because elain and gywn are not interested in him and she's available and she overhears someone else talking about it a few months into their relationship but sees azriel being involving in their relationship and deludes/convinces herself into thinking he really likes her, but something happens and they fight(jealousy? you can choose a reason tbh) and he tells her that he only dated her bc elain/gywn weren't interested in the heat of the moment(maybe she brings it up? or he could say it himself tbh, idm) and has to grovel. you can take this whichever direction you want to, if you have other ideas about certain areas!

I see her in the back of my mind

He was a thunderstorm. Lethal yet so beautiful. Like a pyre, lighting up the darkness and calling you in. Calling them all in. Weaving the traps and lurking in his shadows. The unlucky soldier of love. Falling and falling and falling but never finding the right one. Never finding the satisfaction. Never finding that peace deep within. It was that sad part of his that called to you. That made your heart cry out for him. You understood that pain. That need. That desire to have someone. To hold someone and feel them holding back onto you just as tightly.

It was a surprise to you when he sat by your table at Rita’s. For the most part, he had only been polite to you. But his eyes had never lingered. He had been seeing Gywn too at the time. And you weren’t a home wrecker but it didn’t last long. He crawled back to Elain only to be thrown over the curb again once she slithered back to Lucien after a couple of weeks of ruffled sheets with the spymaster.

“You look in need of company”, he mused. Although now that you look back on it. It was his gaze that kept on going back and forth between your table and the one he had abandoned. “You look in need of water”, you chuckled watching him sway even while sitting down. “It’s nothing”, he hiccuped with a smile, “I just had to come to say hi, you had my attention all night”. Your heart had skipped a beat. Who wouldn’t have dreamed of being admired by the spymaster of the night court? “Just pretty words”, you brushed him off. “If I swung over to your shop tomorrow and told you the same thing stone sober would you believe me?” You had thought nothing of it. Nothing until he showed up. And said the exact thing he had promised just hours ago.

Everything that followed suit was a whole mess of everything. Stolen kisses. Long nights spent talking. Hand-written letters. He was there. Always. Everywhere. And innocent touches had quickly turned into racing heartbeats. Sweaty bodies. Cries of pleasure as he unraveled parts of you, you didn’t know existed. It was sweet. Blooming slowly.

“Accompany me to a ball in spring tomorrow night?”, he whispered, kissing your shoulder. “Tomorrow night?”, you gasped, “I have nothing appropriate to wear”. You shook your head. “Don’t worry it’s taken care of”, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, “I wasn’t gonna go, but… plans changed and quite frankly, I would love to show you off”, Azriel smiled at you. How your heart had soared when the thought of being his officially crossed your mind.

But you should have known that it was too good to be true. Should have seen the signs. Should have known. From the moment you opened the box with the dress. To pull out a baby pink gown, laced with flowers. You had frowned slightly, imagining that he would have wanted you to wear something close to his sapphire blue, to the depths of his shadows. But you had pushed it all aside. Maybe it was a themed party in spring. Maybe light colors were a must.

Then there was a whole lot of him being distant. He was close to you, yes but his mind was elsewhere. Azriel’s eyes barely stayed on you. Instead, he was scanning the crowd. Pulling you with him as if you were only an added accessory. “Az, are you looking for something?”, you asked starting to feel frustration bubbling. “No, just… need to see someone”, he muttered. “Can you do that alone? Or do I need to be dragged around like a dog”, you huffed, pulling your hand out of his. “Don’t be childish…”, he grunted.

And then he halted. Making you slam into the side of him. And you wished you hadn’t looked up because you imagined knew who had his full attention. There she was in a yellow dress. Golden curls flowed down her shoulders. She was stunning. You got the appeal. Azriel stepped forward. Your hand was forgotten. A light gasp slipped past your lips as you watched him go. “Az”, you called out walking right after him. But he never answered.

You watched him embrace Elain. Watched her smile at him. A fire burning you from within. You had no idea what part of you possessed you to walk towards them. But you did. “Azriel”, you called out once more. “Elain”, he muttered, “this is yn”. “I’m his girlfriend”, you added, extending your hand to her. She only smiled at you. “Love the dress”, she looked you over. “Azriel got me the same one but I didn’t love the color so I sent it back”, your face fell, alongside your heart. “And the necklace. Didn’t you give this to Gywn?”, she chuckled, before tapping your cheek, “You sweet thing”. Her eyes turned to Azriel for a brief moment, “You know where to find me”, she whispered. And even if Azriel didn’t nod. Even if there wasn’t a single way to know what was on his head. You knew his mind was made. You knew where those late-night calls took him.

You let out a bitter laugh before turning away from him. “Y/n”, he called out but you were done. Done being plaid. “Your bitches shit? Seriously Azriel? You gift me the same shit you gave to other bitches you fucked?”, you hissed turning to face him. “Don’t call them like that”, he muttered. Your wind eyes watched him, “The audacity… You are a fucked person”, you practically spat at him.

“I needed you, okay?”, he hissed, walking after you. “What for? To be your punching bag? A heartbreak fuck?”, you whinnied, pulling at your hair. “I liked you, okay, you caught my eye”, Azriel replied, making you halt. “Past tense. You used the past tense”, you turned to face him, “Liked”, and your eyes looked him over. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…”, he started. “I curse you, Azriel from the night court. I curse you in love”, an angry tear slipped past your cheek, “May you never find peace with any of your future lovers”.