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dreamwritesimagines · 4 months ago

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Sunshine [10] - Storm

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.

Word Count: 3670

CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Getting too caught up in a relationship hadn’t been an issue since you’d had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didn’t even think about the possibility of a break up but—

You really should have.

“Logan?”

Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I have a question but you need to promise me you’ll be honest.”

A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“The last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.”

“That was for science.”

“How?”

“In case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.”

“That’s a possibility?”

“You can’t be too careful,” you said. “I’m used to thinking about every scenario—anyway, this is another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“So you have the super strength and all that…”

“Yeah.”

“What supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?”

Logan blinked a couple of times. “That’s the question you want me to answer honestly?”

“Could you take down a werewolf?”

“We’re actually talking about this,” Logan muttered to himself. “Okay.”

“A werewolf,” you insisted. “Could you take down a werewolf?”

He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think it’d be that difficult to take down a werewolf,” he stated and you hummed.

“A little cocky, but I’ll let it slide,” you said, laying your head on his chest again. “A vampire.”

“Please, vampires are lame,” he said with a grimace. “I could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?”

“You sound so sure of yourself that I’m half-tempted to ask if you’ve ever taken down a vampire.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’m not going to be beaten by a creature that can’t survive in the sunlight even if it’s hypothetical.”

“They are pretty powerful.”

“To repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesn’t sound powerful to me.”

You clicked your tongue.

“How about a zombie?” you asked. “Could you take down a zombie?”

“Those things fall apart anyway, shouldn’t be difficult.”

“What if it’s a herd?”

“Same logic.”

“You’re telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You hid your yawn behind your hand. “Um, mermaids.”

“Mermaids aren’t even scary.”

“No, not that type of—like those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?”

“No.”

“I’ll put that on the list. It’s like—it’s like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.”

He paused for a moment, then hummed.

“Yeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.”

“Really?”

“I’m not good with water.”

“Can you swim?”

“I can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,” he said slowly. “Because of the skeleton. And like I said, I’m not good with water.”

Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didn’t want to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.

“How about you?” he asked. “What supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?”

“Do you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?” you asked, making him let out a laugh.

“Not really.”

“I mean I think I’d have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy. “Werewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, there’s that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures go…”

You didn’t even realize you were falling asleep.

Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.

A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.

“I’m fine—” you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. “I’m fine it’s just…um—”

“Let me see,” he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

Shit.

“You need stitches,” Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Stitches?” you repeated, looking down at your arm. “Are you sure?”

“Those are deep cuts,” his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldn’t tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What—no, it’s fine!” you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Logan—” you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.

“I can carry you—”

“Logan, it’s just my arm,” you assured him with a huff of a laughter. “I can walk. It’s totally fine.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

“Right,” he muttered through his teeth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so you’d had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldn’t help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.

And Theo’s very scary birth hadn’t helped the situation.

But if anything, this really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.

“So how did you get this, exactly?” she asked and you tried to smile at her.

“Oh, uh…I work in a diner,” you said. “And as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects aren’t a good combo.”

“I’d bet,” she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. “Well the good news is, it’s a very clean cut so it’ll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.”

“Okay.”

“Take the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed and…well, be careful around knives?” she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.

“Noted. Thank you so much, doctor.”

“Have a nice night,” she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.

“Hey,” you said. “You okay?”

For some reason, Logan couldn’t hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.

“Sure.”

“You don’t like hospitals either huh?” you asked, “I mean if I hate the smell, I can’t imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.

“Thanks,” you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didn’t comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.

You didn’t really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.

It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.

“Logan.”

He closed the door behind him. “Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,” you told him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were asking him that.

“Are you?” he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“It’s not the first time I’m getting stitches,” you said. “And to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. I’m fine.”

He snorted, then clicked her tongue. “Sure.”

“No seriously, it’s just stitches,” you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. “And you heard what the doctor said, it’ll heal pretty easily.”

You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.

“If I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,” you joked with a grin, but he couldn’t even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.

“Are you coming?” you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.

“What?”

“I should uh—” he motioned at the living room. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d still hear if you needed anything at night and it’d be safer.”

“Safer?” you repeated. “Logan, come on.”

“I can’t risk another nightmare and you ending up with…” he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alright, this was strange.

Logan was never this curt with you. He wasn’t the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.

You might as well have been speaking to a robot.

“Why are you punishing yourself right now?” you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.

“Call my name if you need anything,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Logan’s pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.

When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasn’t extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.

“Hi stranger,” you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.

“Morning.”

“If breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,” you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. “It’s the right path.”

A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really hungry.”

You blinked a couple of times; that was new.

“Logan,” you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“I agree, but after breakfast.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.

“What time did you wake up?”

Logan shook his head slightly.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“At all?” you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.

“It’s fine.”

“Well it’s actually—” you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.

“One moment,” you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey love,” Stacey’s voice reached you. “Did I wake you up?”

“No no, I was already up,” you said and sat down on the bed. “What’s up?”

“Okay so, the boss is going to kill me, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ll be late again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Stace.”

“Okay I know what you’re gonna say but this time it’s totally not my fault.”

“No?”

“Well, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically it’s not my fault.”

You hummed. “How much did you drink?”

“Well it was my friend’s birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for you, no worries.”

“Ugh, you’re an angel and I love you.”

“Love you too Stace,” you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” you told Logan and sat down. “It’s Stacey, you’ve met her.”

“You’re going to work today?” Logan asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally fine,” you said. “I barely feel it to be honest, and I’ll be careful.”

“But…”

“Besides, I need to cover for Stace,” you said. “Apparently her friend hooked up with Paul—you remember our line cook Paul? He’s kind of a womanizer, I’m kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thing—they sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Stacey’s friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.

“Did I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?” you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. “It was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldn’t wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.”

A small, sad smile curled Logan’s lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.

“Compliments to the chef,” you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. “If you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.”

He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“So,” you said. “Can we talk?”

Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, at all,” you said. “It was an accident. You…you had a nightmare right?”

Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not an excuse.”

“Logan, that’s an accident,” you insisted. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well then sucks to be you because I’m not gonna,” you said. “And unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I don’t see how you’re planning on—”

“I think we should break up.”

That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.

“…What?” you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.

“It’s going to be safer for you—”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Do you realize what could’ve happened?” he asked back, his voice tense. “We got lucky, if you can even call last night that.”

“Logan, it’s a goddamn scratch!”

“Yeah, this time!” he insisted. “This time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasn’t your arm?”

“You cannot be serious,” you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. “You can’t.”

“I’m not going to have your blood on my hands,” he said, his eyes locked in yours. “I can’t hurt you. Not…not you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for you—”

You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. “Don’t give me that speech again.”

“I’m not talking about some silly heartbreak,” Logan told you through his teeth. “I’m talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that it’s not nothing.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.

“I told you, I’m going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. “I can’t put you in danger.”

“You’re not putting me in danger,” you insisted. “You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? You can smell it when I’m scared, when I’m—when I’m nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?”

That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”

“There you go. There’s your answer to your moral predicament.”

“That makes it even worse,” he rasped out and you frowned.

“How?”

“Because now it falls on me to do it,” he said. “And I can’t even fucking convince myself that you want it.”

You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Don’t do this,” your voice was a low whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.

Then the sobs started.

11 - Blast

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writingwisterias · 2 months ago

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I was daydreaming today at college and thought about Leon absolutely ravaging me in my wedding dress... Would you be able to write the reader teasing him at the wedding all evening long, feeling him up, making him jealous until the end of the night when he finally gets you alone and just goes totally feral?! Your work is amazing, please never stop 🥰😌😵‍💫💦

YES, I CAN ANON!

I love this!!! I hope I did the idea justice! I did Death Island Leon because I rewatched it and he's on my mind. I rambled sorry this took so long, I needed it to be done right!

Warnings: Smut, MNDI, Fluff, Teasing, Praise Kink, Cowgirl, Oral (F receiving) Jealousy, Hidden touches, Comfort

Death Island! Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Words: 3.8k

Leon never thought he would get this chance, marriage was always just a distant dream, one that always seemed impossible with his job and lifestyle. Until you came along and made him feel easy to love for once. Your smile manages to brighten any mood he might be in. His home was dark and bare now filled with warmth and love, decorated with things that reminded him of how far you had both become. He made it his life's mission to ensure you never stopped smiling and never faced anything like he had. Your protection was his top priority as he kept you separate from his work life, a little hidden secret in this world. One for just him to enjoy.

The isle was decorated in soft greens and browns, the sun felt warm for once as it fell over his features. It felt like God was finally giving him a break from the whirlpool of life he was handed. He couldn't stop the swaying of his feet or fiddling with the tie that felt too tight around his neck. Neither of you wanted a big wedding, limiting your guest list to just close friends and family but the room still felt full. Despite the small number of people you had invited, their adoring stares at him and their whispers about what you might look like today didn't help. Leon didn’t care what dress you picked out, he gave you the budget to get the biggest one if you wanted it. All that mattered to him was that you were happy and at the end of the day were with him in an enteral promise. One he knew went deeper than simple love.

Ignoring the waves of anxiety he felt, all the attention began to feel too much without you by his side to make it more bearable. Leon made sure to put on the biggest smile that he could muster up as he watched the wedding party begin to filter through the aisle. Soft instrumental music complimented them as they all walked down. The once red carpet is now being decorated with a range of petals as your niece went down alongside her brother who carried the rings. Everyone’s attention was drawn to them, their adorable stumbles thankfully gave him a chance to let out a shaky breath before he had to reach for the velvet box from the young boy. It felt heavy, similar to the feeling when he had the last velvet box in his pocket; a decision he would never come to regret in his life. He had thought about this moment for months, his dreams being filled by adding to the collection of rings he had given to you, all in a romantic promise that was tying your souls together forever.

Leon had memorized the order in which everyone was going to be coming through, all of them finding their place on the respected sides. Their smiles warmed his heart at how happy they were for the both of you. The love crashed over him in waves as your family welcomed him in with open arms. The change in song made his heart rate begin to pick up as you walked down. You looked like an angel, one that was finally ready to take him to salvation - a gift sent from the heavens for all of his hard work and trauma. You smiled at Leon, watching as his eyes twinkled with tears of happiness. He deserved this; there was no one more than deserving of your love. Your answer to his proposal was the easiest choice you had ever made. Just as you were for Leon he was the same for you.

You could feel his hands shake as he lifted your veil, the sound of everyone around you melting away as he gazed upon your features like he was memorising them despite knowing that he does it every time he wakes up before you in the morning. You watched as his smile grew softer, his body trying to reign in his emotions as the tears fell slightly down his face. You felt the ghost of his breath against your palm as you wiped it away for him. Your touch is just a ghost of the love he knew you had for him. His love was always intoxicating to you. Helping your brain become fuzzy so you forget about the world around you. The nerves you had at the start of the day are now settled in a calm and peaceful feeling. That's what you loved about him, his endless ability to ease your anxiety. He was your bridge, your stable wall to lean on if you needed it. Leon had given you everything you needed and more in life; you will always be thankful for that.

Your hands slotted in his perfectly; Leon was grasping them tightly in case you would fade away right in front of him like you were some dream he would wake up from. The vows you shared today would never be broken; the endless devotion you both shared was witnessed by everyone else in the room. “I love you” You whispered to him leaning on his shoulder as you both waited for the end of the ceremony. Leon glanced down at you, his eyes sparkling with more unshed tears, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “I love you more”

It felt like the world stopped as you turned to face each other before you finally kissed marking your new journey as Mr and Mrs Kennedy. Neither of you needed this, the large fancy wedding or the certificate you were now both signing with shaky hands and large smiles. You both know the love you shared was solidified with the care you put towards each other in each other darkest moments. There was no end to this life without Leon being by your side.

You grasped his hand tightly as you both ran down the aisle, your laughter filling the air mixing in with the confetti that fell around you. Leon pulled you back into him, greedy for another kiss before the true celebrations began, the fabric of your dress swirling around his feet as you collided with him.

The rest of the evening felt like a blur, the both of you being dragged around by family and friends for endless photos. The camera flash soon became a permanent fixture every time you blinked. Yet, as everyone settled down for the evening meal, plates of food were being wafted around the room and the waitresses handed them out; Leon didn’t miss the longing looks you gave him. The squeezes of his thigh underneath the table as your hand inched higher and higher. Your delicate fingers brushed along the front of his trousers all whilst glancing at him with an adoring and innocent smile. It was driving him insane with how casual you were being about it. “You alright there honey? You look a little flustered” you giggled in his ear, leaning towards him. His smirk grew on his face, his eyes hidden by his dark hair as he turned to look at you. “Someone seems to be starting something I’m not sure they can finish” He teased. Normally Leon would have touched your skin and teased the fabric of your underwear groaning at the feel of the arousal he knew was drenching the thin fabric but your damn dress was too big. He was beaten by layers of white fabric.

“We’ve still got many hours before I can show you what's underneath this dress” you whispered again. His face flushed - turning a dark pink as his brain tried to decipher what you meant. To his credit he recovered quickly, hiding his flushed cheeks from the guests with a kiss. Coos and chuckles surrounded you as you both shared this moment. When he pulled away his eyes narrowed, a warning. That if you continued then you would be in for a long night, but then when did you ever listen to him?

The night continued with tear-jerking speeches from close family and friends and you now both stood outside the doors waiting for the events organizer to announce you both as Mr and Mrs Kennedy for your first dance. His hand held yours firmly, almost like if he loosened his grip he would wake up from this dream.

“Ready?” You asked him, looking up at his stubble-coated face in adoration. He never got used to your twinkling eyes when you looked at him, perhaps he never would. He didn't need the three words that meant so much to many people - your eyes told your story, your feelings. “To embarrass me with how badly I dance…no” he teased a toothy grin filling his features. Your laugh was better music than the song lined up for the rest of the evening. His own eyes crinkled once again as his smile grew. You heard your name announced and both jogged out onto the dance floor.. confetti and cheers surround you once again.

Leon's hands gripped your hips tightly as they swirled you around, opting to stick to simple swaying and a few spins. You didn't care, you were smiling anyway. That was another thing you did that caused him to fall in love with you - how easily you accepted the simplest things he gave you. The size of his gestures is never an issue with you. When the song slowed down he bought you closer, his hands lowering to the swell of your ass. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers toying with the soft strands of his hair. His aftershave was intoxicating, filling your senses as you tucked yourself closer, his head resting on yours. The moment was peaceful, perfect. One he would remember every time a mission got too much, or he needed a reason to get back up after he's been slammed down numerous amounts of times.

The moment was broken when one of the bridesmaids tapped him on the shoulder holding out a polaroid to him. He glanced briefly at you not failing to notice the large grin on your face. It was comical how wide his eyes went when he looked at the small picture; a choked breath following as his cheeks flushed. “What the fuck” he chuckled as he turned back to you, tucking away the Polaroid in his pocket before anyone else got to see. “There's plenty more where that came from” you spoke. Leon pulled you close again, trapping you against his body with a large grin on his features as his lips ghosted your skin. “You little minx” he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of yours. You smiled at the contact, at the small graze of his lips against your neck. Your fingers tugged gently at the hairs on the nape of his neck, swirling the soft strands in small circles. He felt you slip away leaving his arms to merge in with the rest of the dancefloor. Your white dress twirled around you as you greeted your friends. He watched with a smile, seeing your happiness leak into the people around you…into himself.

Your feet moved gracefully along the dancefloor as you sauntered back to him often during the rest of the night. Interrupting and saving him from boring conversations with older relatives, your lips kissing in the pattern he knew would be repeated later when you were both alone. The collection of polaroids started to thicken his pockets as your bridesmaids continued to hand them to him, his face flushing each time - eyes narrowing as he found you giggling across the room from him. He was thankful as people started to wish you luck and goodnight, all heading off to their rooms. Instantly beginning to look for you to drag you to the bridal room. Leon found you helping the servers gather the remaining drinks handing them glasses over to the bar. Your hair was wild, strands sticking out of the braid it was neatly made into earlier in the day. Your makeup was smudged and the lipstick is virtually nonexistent but to him, you still looked just as beautiful at the start of the day.

He felt giddy as you both stumbled your way back to the room, practically running through the halls. Your smile grew as you heard his laugh, the sound bouncing down the corridor. His hand held onto yours firmly not once letting go. It felt like you were teenagers again, running through the school corridors to escape school. You wished you had met him sooner in life, so you could have loved him sooner. Helped through the horrors he had told you, showed him a world of love and affection sooner before he fell into the habits he wasn't proud of. His lips attacked yours as soon as you got through the door, the key card discarded on the desk landing on it with a clatter. Your hands slid under the shoulders of his blazer. Leon smiled into the kiss, his shoulders shaking it off in a poor attempt to help, the fabric landing with a thud on the floor.

The contents of it scattered along the floor, his phone now hidden somewhere you'll both be scrambling to find in the morning. He smirked at the Polaroids that had now scattered everywhere, the photos of you that he kept hidden now a reminder of your promise. He felt his cock throbbing against the fabric of his trousers, he almost cummed at the idea of sinking into you finally after today. He pulled you towards the bed, pushing you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. Leon wished he hadn’t just lost his phone so he could have taken a photo of you sprawled out on the bed beneath him surrounded by the rose petals the hotel staff had thrown on the bed. Your eyes were intense as they looked at him with pure lust, you always did love him in his suits.

“You have a promise to keep?” He teased, bending down briefly to collect a polaroid off the floor - holding it out to you so you could see throwing it on the bed next to you. His hands began to push the layers of fabric up your legs, exposing your hips. He smiled at the garter that was still around your thigh. Leon’s head instantly lowered, his teeth tugging it down your leg, ignoring the chuckle that left your lips as he struggled to get it over your shoe. When he raised his head again you smiled at his smug look, the elastic band hanging from his teeth like a trophy.

“You were meant to do that earlier and then see which one of your friends was getting married next” You smiled as you pulled it from his teeth, discarding the fabric somewhere else in the room. “Guess I’ll just have to marry you again” He spoke, kissing up your thighs disappearing amongst the fabric. “Already? We just made our vows”

Leon’s head shot up again his hair falling over his eyes as he looked at you. “I’ll chant them to you every night if I have to. I’ll never forget them, nor will I let you forget them.”

You knew if you wanted him to he would always be willing to do what it takes to prove he is forever grateful for your unwavering love and patience over the past few years. The same soft hands that now tugged his head towards your dripping cunt pulling him out of one of the worst states he’s ever been in. He didn’t like thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t given him the final shove to pour the drink away. To stop for the first time since his 20s. His fingers looped in the waistband of the white lacy thong pulling it down your legs. You spread them, showing off your soaked core that he had skipped the cake for. Opting to save his appetite for a sweeter dessert instead.

“I meant every single word”

His mouth instantly latched on, sucking up the sweet arousal you were already dripping for him. Your legs wrapped tightly around his head, the fabric hiding him from sight as he worked his magic. Leon would spend hours like this if he wanted to, his head buried in a sacred space you kept so perfect for him. Forever - until death - now the only person that would be able to taste the sweet drink you created for him. Your legs shook as his tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, his nose occasionally brushing against it as he enthusiastically licked long stripes up your folds.

You felt the incoming orgasm, your thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head only spurring Leon on to continue his assault of pleasure faster. He groaned when you finally spilt on his tongue, he lapped it up like he was dehydrated. You supposed he was, with the incoming date of your wedding you both barely had enough time for this. You moaned at the sight of his chin covered in his drool and your cum, his tongue swiping across his lips making sure he lapped it all up. He always was a messy eater.

You could taste yourself on his as he crawled up to place a kiss on your lips. “How expensive was the dress?” he asked whilst nipping at your neck. His stubble was prickly against your skin. “Very. You gave me no budget remember” You chuckled, pulling at his hair causing him to look at you. “So if I fucked you in it, it would be a waste of money?”

“We can always get it dry cleaned”

He chuckled pulling away from you again. He was too slow at unbuttoning his shirt, you sat up, crawling towards the edge of the bed on shaking legs to help him. The fabric was discarded somewhere in the room with a thud. His hands worked on his trousers, his belt clinking loudly as they fell to the floor. You bit your lip at the sight of his pre cum on his boxers, both old and new stains. “Look at what you did to me all day, in this dress, the touches at dinner, the fucking photos. The day dragged on for far too long” He mumbled lowly. You loved it when he did this when his octave lowered with need and frustration for wanting you. Your teasing finally pushed him over the edge and now he had a taste there was no point in preventing him from the full meal. He was going to get it anyway.

You stood up from the bed, spinning the both of you so he fell against the soft sheets. He waited for you to undo the dress, to let the fabric hide his trousers. Instead to crawled above him, pushing him towards the headboard. Leon pulled his boxers off, his cock thumping against his stomach at your approach. You smirked at the tip, angry and red as it waited for you. Dribbles of pre cum decorating it like candle wax, he was always so pretty.

A large sigh from the both of you filled the room as you finally sank on him. The sight is hidden by the layers of the dress now pooling around you both. He could admire the way the bodice fit against your form, the delicate lace hems making you look even more magical. You were perfect, always were and always will be.

Your hips moved too slow for his liking, the pleasure he needed not building up fast enough. Tired of your teasing his hips met your own. The lazy thrusts hit deeper and deeper as they collided with your own, brushing against the entrance of your cervix. He was always larger than you remembered, no amount of foreplay ever prepared you for the glorious stretch he gave you each time you fucked. His small whisps of hair tease your already sensitive clit.

He could feel you quiver above him, your head thrown back with a large smile plastered on your face. He watched the rise and fall of your chest as it pushed out the breathless whimpers. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, the freshly painted nails leaving small crescent shapes along his already uneven skin. He wouldn’t mind a few more scars, not if they were left by you tonight. A forever memory etched onto his skin as well as in his mind.

Had all his prayers finally been answered? All of his years of suffering finally bought to a close with the clench of your walls around his cock and a promise to love him until he gave his final breath. “I fucking love you, Mrs Kennedy”

Hearing it made it more real somehow, made the whole day finish with another orgasm from you as you collapsed against him. Your sweaty skin cooling his down. He was so close, to his own ending. To coat and fill you with himself, the way it will always be now. Leon was now the only one who got this pleasure, that was allowed to do this.

He was quick to move you, slipping out only briefly to place you on all fours. His cock slipped back into you; “I…will…always…fucking…love…you” he chanted with each thrust. Driving his cock deep into the velvet walls. Your whimpers and whines spur him on along with the begs to go faster and harder. The two of you lost in the moment, in the feel of each other. His ring was cool against your hip as it pressed into the flesh from his grip. Your dress rustles around you with every movement. Nothing else mattered, not the endless piles of paperwork on his desk waiting for him when he would return to the office, the complaints of customers you would eventually face in your own return to work.

Everything could wait. Nothing would stop him from feeling this, the way you clenched and sucked him back in again. Trapped him in as he finally climaxed. His warmth flooded you, leaking out as he pulled away. Your shaking legs finally gave up as you fell onto the bed. A smile plastered on your face from where it was smooshed against the pillows. His fingers worked on undoing the back of the dress, your skin exposed to the cold. Fuck, he needed this sight engraved into his brain forever. You sat up, allowing the fabric to slip off your form with his help. The dress left to crease and crumple on the floor as you both tucked away in bed.

He held you tightly against his chest, his heartbeat thumping loudly against your ear. Despite the great sex, this was what you cared about the most, the vulnerable moments where you slept the best. “Goodnight love” He whispered into your hair as he pressed a kiss into the crown of your head. You smiled against his skin, placing a kiss above the spot of his heart. Your fingers lazily traced along the scars that littered his chest until the room was filled with the soft snores of the newly weds.

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avocado-writing · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush who is so oblivious that they told him with confidence that no one would be interested in them romantically?

yes of course lovely, it’s always a pleasure writing your prompt lists 😊💕

Astarion

definitely thinks you’re joking at first.

laughs, then sees the defeated lag of your shoulders, the way you can’t tear your gaze from the ground.

wants to do his usual blasé retort, but is torn because well. he really cares for you.

I think, after a moment of silence, he reaches out and takes your hand. threads his fingers through yours.

“darling… there is so much of you to love, it’s mesmerising.”

he can’t look at you while he admits this of course, but he feels the way you squeeze his hand in yours and his dead heart skips a beat. 💕

Gale

utterly baffled.

of course someone would love you romantically?

from a practical point of view he just starts listing things off: you’re kind, a good leader, big-hearted, have a strong moral compass…

and then he just lapses into the things he likes about you.

that you’re so lovely. so good-looking. that your hair is nice and your eyes are spellbinding.

only realises he’s gone off on a tangent when he sees you grinning at him, then gets a little embarrassed…

gives you the confidence to press a kiss to his cheek though, and after that he’s beaming for the whole day 🥰

Wyll

shocked. shocked and appalled that you think that way about yourself.

takes you out for a stroll, just the two of you, and ends up waxing lyrical about all the things you have going for you.

he tries not to turn it into a confession but my man is a romantic, and soon he ends up spilling everything.

the way every time you smile at him his heart speeds up and his cheeks get hot. how you deserve someone who’ll be by your side through everything, and he’s not afraid to be that someone despite everything you’ve faced on the road.

he’d keep going if you didn’t muster up your courage and pull him into a long kiss 💕

Halsin

is old enough to understand self-doubt doesn’t just go away in one day. he’s admired you for a while so he tries to start actively courting you.

little gifts appear for you. carvings of your favourite animals, flowers you’ve mentioned liking the perfume of.

he finds a reason to be by your side every day. always tries to make you smile and laugh.

and eventually you realise… oh, what you believed before? about nobody ever feeling romantic love towards you? that was totally wrong. because there is your Druid and you’ve just realised his heart is totally devoted to you.

when you have this moment you immediately run to find him and throw yourself into his arms rom-com style lmfao ❤️

Dammon

“that’s… that’s not true! there would be plenty of people who’d love you.”

you look up into his eyes. they’re soft and sweet, and there’s a desperation behind them as the words come tumbling out of his mouth, too late to stop them.

“I’d love you. I do love you.”

a moment passes. he’s worried he’s messed up.

then you stride across the room to bring him into a kiss and his face gets hot enough to rival his forge… 🔥

Rolan

”don’t be so foolish.”

you’re utterly gobsmacked, because you were being so vulnerable, admitting your worry. “excuse me?!”

he tries to backtrack and make it look like he didn’t just insult you, lol

”there’s nothing wrong with you. you’re… wonderful. anyone would be lucky to have you.”

cheeks a bright crimson, and he’s so bad at hiding his emotions that you clock what this is instantly. it’s a confession.

“oh…” “don’t worry, forget it, I didn’t say anything—!” “rolan, would you like to get a drink tonight?”

he might combust. but he squeaks out a “yes.” because honestly? he was worried about the exact same thing you came to him to confide…

Zevlor

is firm in how silly you’re being, but kind.

holds your face in your hands to get you to look at him.

swears how lovely you are, his words like a pledge. like a prayer.

and when this paladin tells you all this? how could you believe him to be wrong.

maybe someone would love you romantically. gazing into his warm eyes, maybe someone does.

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scarletttries · 1 year ago

Text

Gun Woo Fluff Alphabet (Bloodhounds)

Pairing: Kim Gun-Woo (Bloodhounds) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

Author's Note: Back at it with my insane crush on Gun Woo! Thank you to all the anon's sending in Gun Woo headcanon requests, I promise they are all going on my list! And my requests are open for either of the alphabet types for other characters too, I'm having a lot of fun writing them! 🥰

a -affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

As the first romantic interest in Gun Woo's life, it would take him quite a while to get used to being able to be affectionate with you. Every time he reached out to hold your hand he would blush profusely, almost apologetic in his gentle touch. Eventually as he gets more used to being your boyfriend his confidence would grow, and he'd learn how to show affection in his own ways. This would include saving you the seat next to him everywhere he goes, standing or sitting as close to you as possible in every situation, and more often than not, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your cheek any time the urge to touch you gets too overwhelming.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

Gun Woo is not a shallow man, although he does think you are the prettiest person he's ever met. No, this boy can only fall for someone's heart and that's exactly what he does with you. It wouldn't take much time of being your friend to realise how special you are, your kindness, your interests, and maybe most of all, just how safe he feels around you. He's spent so much of his life protecting and caring for others, but when you ask if he's okay or go out of your way to help take care of him, he'd realise he's never felt like that about anyone, and it's something he'd like to keep in his life forever.

It's hard to think of anything about Gun Woo that's not beautiful - he's a statuesque man with a heart of gold. So when he starts putting in an extra effort to spend time around you and find any way he can to help with whatever you're doing, it would be impossible not to fall in love with him.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

Cuddling wouldn't come naturally to Gun Woo, only because he has little experience of physical affection and most of the time his body is used to fighting rather than loving. That doesn't mean he wouldn't want to cuddle you though, starting off with a more traditional arm over your shoulder after lots of hinting, and flushing completely red the first time you curled up against his broad chest. Eventually he'll get used to opening his arms and letting you collapse into them, but no matter how long you're together you'll still be able to hear his heart hammering in his chest as he feels like the luckiest person in the world to be that close to you.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

This boy definitely had to ask both his mum and Woo Jin about where to go on dates and how to be a boyfriend, luckily they would have given him some pretty good advice about making lots of plans with you, but leaving room for spontaneous dates when you both feel like it. Gun Woo would definitely love going for food with you, enjoying showing off his skills and knowledge at a BBQ place and impressing you with cooking the meat perfectly. He doesn't drink but he does know a few cool bars thanks to his friends, and he'll happily be your designated driver if you do want to try a cocktail or two. And if you wanted to go out for a run or a workout together, that would be Gun Woo's absolute favourite, enjoying nothing more than feeling his best and enjoying the outdoors by your side.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would definitely break Gun Woo's heart to have to hurt someone's feelings, but he would never want to lead someone on so would definitely call it off if he felt like he had to. He'd be very kind but honest with that person, explaining that it's not their fault and keeping it brief and simple, usually a man of few words.

f - fiancee (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Gun Woo's little family means the world to him, so it's only natural that he would very quickly start thinking about forming a formal little family with you. He'd only want that if you did too though, so he'd definitely test the waters before getting too invested in thinking about proposing:

You'd be sitting on the couch on a normal Tuesday night when you realise that Gun Woo has sat up completely straight and turned to face you, looking pensive as you turn off whatever you're watching to give him space to talk. With an almost serious facial expression he would very thoughtfully ask,

"Do you want to get married?" You can feel your heart skip a beat as your boyfriend of only a few months waits for your answer, almost choking out your clarifying question.

"Gun Woo, are you proposing?" His eyes darted wide as he shook his head, only confusing you more, the poor boy now just as lost for words as you are.

"No! Sorry, I should have been more clear. I meant, do you ever want to get married? I know some people don't ever want to, so I just wanted to check. In case..." His voice trails off as he watches a confused look fill your eyes before you respond,

"Do you want to get married, Gun Woo?" A subtle smile traces across his face as he nods, gaze fixed to his feet.

"To you? Very much so." It's hard not to melt at the warmth in his features as he answers, clearly having pictured a future with you already.

"Then I do want to get married." You reply happily, and Gun Woo nods again, his smile growing wider as he coils his arms around you and pulls you to his chest.

"Then I will ask again properly. Another day." He clarifies, already excited to tell his mum the news.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Gun Woo is the definition of a gentle giant. He would never want to do anything that might hurt your feelings, knowing how lucky he is to have you in his life, and all the ways you make his every day better. He would never raise his voice, or get angry, even looking at you with only softness in his gaze. He'd also be incredibly careful with his touch, terrified that he doesn't know his own strength and that he could possibly do harm to the one person he would never want to scare or hurt. He loves the way you tenderly brush his face, or lightly graze his skin, so he'd make a very conscious effort to only touch you equally softly, knowing how nice it is to be on the receiving end of those affections.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do if? what are their hugs like?)

I don't think he would necessarily be clingy the way Woo Jin would, even though he loves your hugs. It would be enough just to be around you most of the time, getting the warmth and love of your company. But when he's feeling down, or had a particularly tough day, or if he's had to be apart from you, or even if he's just feeling really grateful for something simple you've done for him, then he would immediately envelop you in his arms, fighting back the urge to squeeze as tightly as he can for fear of hurting you. It would be all consuming to be hugged by Gun Woo, his broad frame wrapped all around you, warmth and musky scent flooding your senses as he nuzzles against your neck, his eyes clenching shut as he focuses on how good it feels to hold you.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

Gun Woo is so used to getting hurt that he would almost brush it off if he came home hurt. He's not used to being taken care of, so it would surprise him when you insist on gently wiping the blood from his knuckles, holding a cold cloth to his swollen hands before giving them a final 'kiss better' that has his stomach doing flips. After that, he'll get a little bit more used to telling you when he's hurt, enjoying being looked after by your sweet touches and quietly asking if you could kiss him better in case you forget.

If you're hurt then Gun Woo would try to be very practical, getting ready to take you to the emergency room even if it's only the most minor of injuries. You'll have to reassure him that nothings going to happen to you, and that'll you'll be okay, but he still insists on taking you to his mother's place so she can double check you'll be okay and probably make you some emergency soup just in case.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

He's not an insecure man, or someone who gets angry easily, so I don't think Gun Woo would get jealous very easily. He trusts you to the depths of his heart, so seeing a man talk to you would never get him upset or have him making a scene. The only thing that might get him a little bit jealous is if someone starts taking up more of your time and attention, so you couldn't spend as much time with him, just because you are his favourite person to be around. He might show his jealousy by being a bit more needy when you are around him, clinging to you as you move around and telling you how much he missed you while you were gone.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

You would be the first person that Gun Woo ever kisses, and he'd be immediately sure that he would want you to be the only person too. At first it would just be tentative little pecks, almost too nervous to touch you, letting you take the lead and pull him closer when you're ready. Once he gets a bit more used to the sensation, Gun Woo would be a lot more eager to kiss you again, taking every private moment as an opportunity to capture your lips against his, his kiss firm and passionate, trying to show every ounce of love he feels for you through his actions. He loves when he can feel you smile against him, and when you drift to kiss down his neck or along his jaw, particularly on the side his scar is on, well you can practically feel him melting into a giggling mess beneath you.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

Gun Woo definitely shows his love through acts of service, wanting nothing more than to help his friends and family and do whatever he can to keep them safe and make their lives easier. When you come into his life and start doing little things to help him out, whether it's giving him a home cooked meal, or helping clean up his cuts after a fight, well that's when he starts to realise just how much he's been missing someone exactly like you in his life.

He is also definitely a quality time man. It doesn't matter if you two are sitting in silence, doing different things, even just being in the same room as Gun Woo means the world to him. Be prepared to feel him stealing little glances from time to time, and smiling to himself every time he does, so grateful to be so comfortable by his side.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Gun Woo is definitely an early bird, and it would mean a lot to him if you would sometimes wake up early with him, especially if you join him for a morning workout. But don't worry if you're not really an early morning person, Gun Woo would take a lot of joy of sneaking out of bed without waking you up, taking a few moments to memorise your peaceful sleeping expression and feeling like he was running on air knowing that he's running home to you. If by the time he gets back you're up and working on breakfast, be prepared for him to wrap you in his arms and sweep you off your feet, his adoration for you the only thing he's thought about all morning.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

He's a bit more slow moving in the evening, winding down for the day by lounging with his arms around you, waiting until you start to yawn before suggesting you two get ready for bed. He loves when you're tired enough from the day that you let him carry you upstairs, feeling grateful for every moment he's spent exercising when he can lift you easily and feel you get cosy against his chest.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Gun Woo will happily tell you all the basic information about his life from the moment he meets you, his experience with Woo Jin's friendship showing him the value of being open and honest with new people. However he's very used to hiding his emotions and putting on a brave face when he feels like someone is depending on him, so it would take him a lot longer to start telling you when he's having a difficult day or feeling sad or scared. Every time he does, and you comfort him without pity or judgement, he feels like it gets easier to share, and now you're the first person he talks to on his best or worst days.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Gun Woo is the master of patience between his strenuous training and his military service. He'll never get frustrated when it comes to waiting for you, or having to explain things, grateful when you give him the same patience as he slowly adjusts to being a boyfriend, sometimes through the process of trial and error. The only thing that might wear his patience thin is if he hears you talk down to yourself time and time again, frustrated and sad that you can't see yourself the way he does, as easily the most special person in the universe.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

Gun Woo just wants to be wherever you are. He loves when he gets to do his favourite things with you, like working out and running, or cooking and eating, and when you come to watch him box it means the world to him. But he also wants to do all your favourite things with you, even if it's something he's never been interested in before, he would try absolutely anything if it meant getting to learn a bit more about you and spend that time together.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

When Gun Woo started to fall in love with you, he started to feel self conscious of the long scar down his face, and wondering if he was wrong for turning down the offer of help to improve its healing and appearance. He doesn't think you would judge him on his looks, if you even like him back at all, but he still finds himself trying to sit on a certain side of you, or wearing a mask more to block the scar from your view. He never worried about how his scar would affect his life until he found someone he wanted to grow his life with, growing more and more upset by it until one day Woo Jin calls him out on it, in front of you:

Gun Woo was forced to sit on the other side of you, his scar in plain view, and found himself awkwardly leaning his arm over the back of the chair to rest his face in his hand to hide it.

"Hey, why are you sitting like that weirdo?" Woo Jin teases, laughter turning to concern as his friend breaks into a frown, avoiding eye contact with either of you as he shrugged.

"Just saving both of you for looking at my cheek." He mumbled, trying to play it off, but the pain behind his words was more than a little obvious to the two of you.

"I thought you liked your scar now bro? You're not having second thoughts about the surgery for it?" Woo Jin pries, noticing the way his friend keeps throwing troubled glances in your direction.

"What do you think?" Gun Woo turns to you, reluctantly letting his hand drop from his face so you can take a better look.

"Let me see." You pretend to really consider his face for the first time, something you found yourself doing a hundred times before anyway, lifting the edge of one finger to gently tilt his chin up, trying not to smile at the obvious blush your slight touch brings him. You lean your face in close to really take in every detail of him, watching his sadness melt away as you smile as you look over his features, scar included and nod to yourself,

"I don't think you need to worry about how it looks, especially since you got it from being pretty heroic." Gun Woo smiled, satisfied with your answer, and surprised when you added, "And for what it's worth, some people like scars." He scanned your eyes felt any hint of pity or deception, but noticed instead a hint of rosy warmth flooding your cheeks as you looked almost bashful at your words, letting go of his jaw and smiling to yourself as you looked to Woo Jin for reassurance, who was busy grinning at his now elated friend, who suddenly felt like nothing in the world could keep him from trying to win your heart.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

Oh boy is Gun Woo protective of you. He can't help it, he's protective of everyone around him and because you are the most important person in his life that goes ten fold for you! Whenever you two walk anywhere together he'll always be shoulder to shoulder with you to make sure everyone knows you've got him by your side, and if you ever need to walk somewhere in the dark you best believe Gun Woo is coming to meet you, whether you ask him or not. He believes in being a gentleman, from opening doors and pulling out chairs, to making it his job to keep you safe from all the danger he knows is out in the world.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Gun Woo would always try his best to show you how much you mean to him at every opportunity. He would never take having you in his life for granted and would put the effort into every day domestic tasks to show you how committed he is to building a little home with you; you don't even have to ask for him to do things like buy groceries or clean parts of the house, the things that really show he's ready to settle into a life with you. He's a little bit more clueless when it comes to anniversaries and gifts since he's new to this whole relationship thing, but he'll always try his best to get you something special, and he'd never forget the important dates for the two of you.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Gun Woo's default is to hide his negative feelings from those around him, putting on a brave face in public and waiting until he's alone to collapse into tears. It would take him a long time to get used to letting you see him in the moments he feels weak, but he knows how much he values being the person in your life that you tell about your bad days, so he wants to do that for you too. Gradually he realises just how much better he feels when he shares his problem with you and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close while he cries, and gets more open with you about his feelings.

When you're upset Gun Woo's first thought is always finding a solution, something tangible he can do to make this situation better. You might need to explain to him that sometimes you just want to talk and be upset and have him be there for you without needing to fix the problem, but eventually he'll start getting better at knowing when to just listen and hold you.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

Gun Woo knows all the things his body is capable of, and with the exception of having to get used to his new scars, he doesn't really think much about how he looks. He tends to default to athletic clothes given the life he leads, but he'd definitely try a new outfit or haircut if you suggested he might look handsome in it.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

I think Gun Woo would really struggle to accept help at first. It's a natural part of a relationship to take care of each other, particularly when you share a home, but having spent most of his life taking care of the people around him, it's a big adjustment for Gun Woo to let someone else look after him for a change. The first time you cook or clean something for him, or even just do him a small favour, he'll be extremely apologetic and insist that you don't have to do things like that for him, already trying to think of ways to pay you back. You'll have to sit him down and take his hands in yours, and gently explain that you've seen the way he always takes care of everyone else, and that it's amazing of him but everyone needs help sometimes, and so can he please let you be the person to look after him occasionally? He'll immediately become a blushing, smiling mess, nodding and apologising for not accepting your help in the first place, practically collapsing into your lap for the rest of the night.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

Gun Woo's not a natural people-person so he might not always know when something is on your mind straight away. You need to get used to being direct with him at first, telling him when he's said something that's upset you, or when you're in a bad mood and need him to do something to help you. He's always more than happy to do what you say, and the longer you two are together, the easiest it becomes for him, but it's not something he'll even find easy.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

Gun Woo is very old-fashioned in a lot of ways, and he'll find it a bit off putting if you do something that goes against that code - like disrespecting an elder (even if they deserve it.) That being said if you are the one to open a door or pull out a chair for him, he finds that adorable, giving you his happiest little smile as he proudly follows you.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Gun Woo is so used to sleeping alone that at first he actually finds it a little bit difficult to fall asleep with you lying beside him - he's so excited to have you so close, and he can't quite force himself to stop looking at you long enough to close his eyes, suddenly self conscious of how much space he takes up in bed, not wanting to overstep any unspoken boundaries. When you realise that he's struggling, you intentionally shuffle closer to him, showing he doesn't need to be so worried about touching you. You'd whisper kind things to him in your softest voice, and trace shapes across his arm and back with your fingertips until you can feel his muscles relax into cosy sleep, finally drifting off yourself. Now Gun Woo's starting to realise he can't sleep without you next to him anymore.

#writing #fanfiction #requests #one shot #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds imagines #bloodhounds #kim gun woo x reader #kim gunwoo imagines #kim geonwoo #kim gunwoo #gunwoo imagines #gunwoo x reader #gunwoo scenarios #gun woo headcannons #gun woo x reader #woo do hwan

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604to647 · 10 months ago

Text

Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

Second Movement (Allegretto)

6K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: Pero continues to be a source of encouragement and support as you navigate the marriage mart.

Warnings: Some pining and light angst. Soft!Pero warning. Liberal use of Bridgerton characters and canon.

A/N: I'm sorry for any historical inaccuracies/liberties taken! Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist 🎼 First Movement 🎼

You think you should have been warned that the days following season events are somehow always busier than the events themselves.

The morning after the Danbury ball, with hardly enough sleep and exhausted almost to the point of delirium, you find yourself yawning through Daphne’s chipper recitation of your schedule for the next few days. You must have agreed to it all while inhaling your breakfast, because you’re now dressed in a prim and proper powder blue frock, sitting prettily in the Bridgerton’s upstairs drawing room, waiting for what feels like the millionth young man you must have met last night to make your reacquaintance. Although there was no one who had caught your attention particularly at last night’s ball, you do recall several gentlemen being very pleasant and look forward to getting to know them better. Every visitor and potential suitor that waits for your audience today is afforded your full consideration and open heart, even if you are still very, very tired. And though the conversation gets repetitive and the gifts are slightly impersonal, you appreciate everyone’s efforts and invite them to return all the same.

---

It’s well after lunch by the time Pero steps into the front hall of Bridgerton House and is shown into the waiting room where he finds you and all the Bridgerton women in various states of exhaustion, draped over chaise lounges and chairs, while the Bridgerton men chat merrily and sample from various boxes of candies and treats that had been brought as offerings by your, Eloise and Francesca’s suitors this morning.

“Pero!” Though you are delighted to see him, you’re so worn out, all you can muster is a small wave. You return the bemused expression he has on his face as he takes in the room and the collection of gifts and offerings piled high with a soft smile of your own.

“No peonies,” Pero observes readily.

Daphne chirps, “No, but lots and lots of flowers. Expensive ones.”

“But peonies are your favourite,” he says pointedly to you. You nod, heart swelling with fondness, “You remembered!”

“Of course, Dulce, I remember everything about you.” You feel warm at his affectionate tone; you remember everything about Pero as well, but would never have expected him to do the same.

“How did this morning go?”

The Duchess answers for you and runs through the list of suitors that called on you this morning, including tidbits on their pedigrees or impressive accomplishments. Pero half listens as he looks over the table of gifts; refusing a biscuit when Benedict extends a box in his direction, he murmurs, “Busy morning.”

You and the women nod. Eloise yawns. Francesca closes her eyes. You sigh.

Pero kneels before you, comforting hand on your leg, “What’s the matter, Dulce?”

Sighing again, but this time a little less weary, “I don’t know? I suppose it’s that there was no spark. I didn’t spark with anyone.”

Daphne is quick to reassure you, “It can take time! Simon and I did not spark right away. In fact, we hated each other. But as we spent time together, our feelings emerged.”

You nod in comprehension, but joke, amiably, “Well now I do not know if it’s a good thing then that I did not hate anyone either.” When you see Pero still looking at you with an apologetic expression, you smile sheepishly, “You must think me very naïve.”

“No, not naïve. Very, very sweet, and even romantic. There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful, Dulce.”

Nodding gratefully at Pero, he smiles when he sees that you’re taking solace in his words and decides now is a good time to produce a tin from behind his back that you hadn’t notice he was holding, “I know you have received a lot gifts already and the day itself has been quite overwhelming. Perhaps you do not have the energy for one more?”

There’s something familiar about the container Pero is holding out to you; when you open it and see the delicate wafer cookies contained within, you’re instantly transported to a small Italian bakery that you and Pero used to visit daily in Florence. “Oh Pero,” you breathe, your eyes bright.

“I was in Florence recently and could not help but revisit our old haunt. Did you know Signor Russo is still there? I’m embarrassed by how many tins I purchased. I remembered last night they used to be your favourite and it just so happened that I had one tin left in my luggage,” grins Pero; all he has wanted to do since he said good night to you after the ball, is to draw out the smile that’s currently on your face.

“Thank you so much, Pero,” you close your eyes and hum in contentment as the familiar sweet flavour washes over your tongue. “This is the best thing I received today,” you grin, “May I share?”

“Of course,” Pero isn’t the least bit surprised by your display of generosity and he watches with satisfaction as you excitedly pass around the tin to your friends, sharing with them its origins and small snippets of the time in your life when these cookies were a daily treat.

Invigorated by the nostalgic treat, you and Pero spend the remainder of the afternoon catching up and recalling fond memories of your childhood together. You learn that after completing his studies, Pero embarked on the customary grand tour before returning to Spain to help his father with the Tovar estate. Subsequent to his father’s passing, at his King’s insistence he resumed his father’s former diplomatic duties and has spent the last five years travelling under the same charge previously entrusted to the old Barón. When you tell Pero about the many places you have travelled with your father since you saw him last, you delight in the discovery that you’ve been to many of the same places, sometimes missing each other by only weeks. Your never-ending conversation comparing new and old favourite discovered delicacies and sights runs all the way until dinner; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had so much fun just talking.

It’s exactly what you had wanted to do since the moment you saw Pero last night at the Danbury Ball. Your grateful heart overflows with joy that you’ve been allowed the grace of closing out this whirlwind twenty-four hours in the laughter-filled, carefree manner that can only be possible when catching up with an old friend.

When you enter the Ramsbury Ball the following week it’s with Pero as one of your party. His inclusion the most natural thing given that he’s become a regular fixture at Bridgerton House, often joining Colin in the morning for breakfast and returning in the afternoon to check in on how you’re doing and how the day’s suitors have treated you.

You can hardly express your appreciation at having your old friend’s support while you endeavour on the daunting undertaking of your first social season. Though you remain a popular fixture among the ton, you must admit that socializing so much does not come without effort, being used to much quieter and calmer company. It does not escape you how lucky you are to have a group of friends and supporters such as Pero and the Bridgertons with whom you can momentarily relax and jovially chat in between dances and some of the more awkward attempts at flirting by your suitors.

“Wait, wait!” laughs Colin, “You mean to tell us that you were actually there when our good Barón got his scar? Please, pray tell, how did it happen? I have tried in vain to get Tovar to reveal his dark secret!”

Pero catches your eye and you see his own twinkle in mischief. “I’m afraid my lips are sealed,” you proclaim, falling easily into conspiracy with your friend, “and on any account, the tale is not suitable for polite society.”

Eloise, Colin and Benedict all groan and try various tactics to convince you to give up your story, but to no avail. You simply will not tell them that the fearsome scar over Pero’s left eye is the result of a boy falling off the dock after running too vigorously towards the lunch bell and slipping on a wet fish. Though you can laugh about it now, at the time you had been scared witless when the sailors from your father’s fleet lifted Pero’s wet, limp body from the water; you had cried by his bedside all three nights he was unconscious, praying he would be alright. Even now, Pero remembers the force with which you had punched him in his uninjured shoulder when he woke, scolding him for scaring you so and making him promise never to do it again.

Later, when you’re once again gliding across the dance floor in Pero’s comfortable but firm hold, he grins down at you, “Thank you, Dulce, for keeping my secret and upholding my reputation as a dastardly rogue.”

“My pleasure! Have you been telling people that your scar is the result of some great feat of bravery? Perhaps you fought off five pirates in order to protect the virtue of a young maiden?”

Pero laughs, “Sadly my imagination is not as inventive as yours. I have simply been saying the details of the incident are difficult for me to recall.”

You nod, knowingly, “Ah yes, on account of all the injuries sustained.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I will be sure to drop enough vague hints to satiate their curiosity and raise you in their esteem.”

“Thank you, Dulce,” Pero says, amused as always by your good humour.

But you haven’t finished teasing, “... and perhaps they will be more forgiving of when you are dull, if they understand that you suffered a great many head injuries in your past.”

“Why you…”

Luckily for you, the dance requires you to spin away from Pero at this exact moment so you never hear what he says; by the time you turn back into his arms, he has already forgiven you – he’s never been truly upset with you before and has no plans to start now. As the two of you continue to dance, your happy banter floats over the quickness of your steps and the laughter Pero pulls from you rings loud and clear across the dance floor.

---

Pero watches as you dance yet another dance with some seemingly upstanding gentleman from the ton. A Lord something-something-shire. Though he stands stiffly next to Benedict, scowling, inwardly he smiles and admires your graceful form. You really have grown up to be a lovely, beautiful young lady, and yet – he finds in many ways, you’re hardly changed from the spirited, kind, and funny girl he knew in his youth. You’re elegant and poised, but even as you extend your arm to your partner, the lilt of your fingers denote a playfulness that he remembers, something he does not observe in the other girls of the ton. When not dancing, your pretty smile and witty remarks, coupled with the way your entire being lights up during the energetic story telling of one of your anecdotes, charms the entire room. He’s exceptionally proud of you.

Still, he can tell you’re holding back, that you’re not entirely comfortable to be yourself in this setting. Perhaps it’s modesty that begs you not to draw the attention of the entire room. Or you’re following some outdated tutelage to conform with the subdued formality of such events. All he knows is that to him, you’re radiant, a beacon of light, but he has yet to see you unleash the full extent of your charisma on the ton.

A weird, inexplicable part of him is glad that you don’t. Something in him oddly akin to possessiveness wants to remain the only man at these events that knows you the way he does; knowing the depth of your wry humour, your never yielding compassion, and your unique perspective on the wide world that only a handful of people in this room have seen. This same part of him leads him to spend most of the balls and societal events with his face set in a deep, glowering frown, standing apart from the other members of the ton, needing to be alone in order to wrestle with his thoughts.

Since the day following the Danbury Ball, Pero has brought you a single stemmed peony every single day, reasoning that if nothing else, you will have at least one of your favourite flower if none of your suitors sends any. You come to look forward to the quiet meditative minutes you spend carefully clipping and arranging your one peony every day; it’s as if Pero has not only given you the flower, but also permission to take some relaxing time to yourself amidst the hustle and bustle of your social obligations. By the time the Somerset House Gallery viewing arrives, you have yourself a fairly impressive bouquet that brings you peace and joy every time you look at it.

As usual, Pero joins your group for the outing, but to your surprise, Eloise does not. The reason for this is soon clear when Colin announces that he will be escorting Penelope Featherington as part of your party today. You haven’t broached the topic with Eloise, but it’s clear that something has happened between the two women. For as long as you can remember, Eloise and Penelope were thick as thieves, the very best of friends – when she thinks no one is watching, you’ve seen how this rift has affected her, but you can also tell Eloise would rather not discuss it.

Although you do not know her as well as you do the Bridgertons, Penelope has always seemed to be a lovely and friendly type of person. Spending the afternoon with her today, you find her to also be witty and observant, direct in her comments and transparent in her thoughts and feelings as your group wanders through the galleries and enjoys the art on display. Periodically, a friend of the Bridgertons or a suitor will join your small group as you move from piece to piece, making small talk and asking you or Francesca what you thought of this painting or that.

When your party gathers around the refreshments table, Mr. Barnett, a young man you recall dancing with once at a recent ball, joins the conversation and remarks that the entire event is too dull for his tastes.

Met with polite but awkward looks and a light scoff from the Duchess, he apologies and tries to explain himself, “I simply mean that a sporting event, say a boxing match might provide more excitement than simply standing around and looking at pictures. Although, I’m sure, Miss Featherington, you and your family might find this banality preferable to the type of action that typically surrounds the boxing ring.”

You’re absolutely shocked. Even having not returned to London for several years, you had heard the rumours surrounding the late Lord Featherington’s untimely death. Although certainly scandalous, as far as you knew, it was all speculation and you can’t imagine any reason to bring it up in polite conversation, never mind the gall of doing so directly to the poor deceased man’s daughter.

Colin looks murderous, his hands flexing, clearly battling himself on how he’d like to handle the situation without creating too much of a scene. Next to him, Pero glares menacingly at Mr. Barnett, ready to follow his friend’s lead and provide whatever backup is necessary.

Your candy laced voice snaps all three men back to the present, “I’m honestly so astonished, where do the men find their courage nowadays?” directing the question at Mr. Barnett who perks up at your attention. You continue, all smiles, “For the life of me, I don’t think I could ever be brave enough to voice a thought like that out loud.” Mr. Barnett turns bright red and mumbles something that sounds like “Right,” before bowing slightly and scampering away. Pero finds himself smirking and filled with pride. He remembered this viper-tongued hidden side of yours – you, who was always so sweet and good-natured, but irrevocably intolerant of cruelty or injustice.

Once in a small town in Greece, he had watched you chase away a group of boys bigger than you who had been stealing candy from a local girl, with nothing more than the ferocious spitting of admonishments and a small stick. That the bullies probably didn’t even understand a word of English did not apparently leave your harsh rebukes lost in translation; the fury in your face and the conviction in the stance of your small frame doing all the talking for you. After comforting the little girl, you had then given her all your candy and seen her safely home. Later when Pero had offered to buy you more candy, you had been surprised that he knew you had run out, embarrassed he had witnessed your display of ferocity. That was the day he bestowed the nickname “Dulce” on you, telling you as he refilled your candy bag that he was proud of you; the same way he’s proud of you now.

Unsurprisingly, Penelope excuses herself shortly after and when Colin follows her, your group breaks apart and you end up walking through the gallery with just Pero. You wait as long as you can, making sure you’re out of earshot of others before putting your heads together the way only close confidants do, recounting what had happened.

“The audacity of that man, if he can even call himself that!” you practically hiss, still so incensed at the lack of civility that you had been witness to.

Pero chuckles, he’s always quite liked it when you would get riled up and vent to him; it was like watching a soft kitten bare its claws, “Well you certainly put him in his place, Dulce.”

Sighing, you certainly hope so, “I hope Penelope is alright. And I hope Mr. Barnett at least has enough sense not to approach her ever again.”

“Well, if he does, I’m sure he will have plenty to contend with, including another fearsome tongue lashing by the prettiest lady of the season.” While you feel your cheeks flush at his compliment, Pero continues, “My guess is that you won’t be seeing him in the suitors line at Bridgerton House.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, “Pity.”

“But what if he would have brought you peonies, Dulce?” teases Pero.

You take Pero’s arm, leading him back to a painting you’ve been wanting to revisit, “I’d throw the bouquet at his head. Besides, I already receive the most beautiful peonies from someone I actually want to spend time with. You can tell the men of the ton that peonies are taken, they need to find their own flower.” You chuckle cheerfully and Pero finds that the sound lands deep in his chest and makes his heart expand.

If you thought the Italian cookies or the peonies were thoughtful gifts, Pero renders you absolutely speechless when he presents you with a breathtaking necklace before the Crawford Ball. When he sees you, he’s secretly pleased that the necklace will compliment the cream gown that you’ve chosen for the evening, but he also can’t help but notice the way it shapes to your curves and accentuates your pretty features. He waits with bated breath as you open the black velvet box and triumphs at your gasp and the way your eyes grow wide as you lift the delicate ruby necklace from its soft resting place.

“Oh Pero, are these…?” you whisper, so full of awe and disbelief that you’re unable to finish your sentence. It’s not often that something or someone renders you speechless.

“The rubies from India?” he finishes for you softly, “Yes, they are.”

Your eyes shine bright at the recognition of the rubies that had been gifted to Pero’s father by Indian dignitaries; when you were younger, you were so entranced by their beauty that you would often ask the old Barón to show them to you, and the kind hearted man had always indulged you with a chuckle.

“May I?” asks Pero gently, and you turn to let Pero drape the necklace around your neck, letting it rest delicately over your collar bones before he clasps it securely. Hand gingerly touching the precious jewels you turn to Pero, still stunned, “Pero, this is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he smiles generously, “it always amused Father how much joy these rubies brought you. I think he would have loved to see you wearing them.” Your eyes well up with emotion, remember the gentle man whose sweetness you see shining so brightly and clearly in his son before you.

That night, when your necklace attracts the inevitable compliments, Pero watches with a full heart as you proudly talk about his father with love and generosity, regaling your admirers with tales of the far-off lands where you knew the man who raised him best. Unavoidably, heads would turn in his direction during your stories, and Pero finds himself grimacing at the attention; choosing to turn away and move out of your audience’s line of sight to somewhere where he can once again admire you from afar in peace.

It doesn’t escape the ton’s notice that Pero only ever dances with you at balls; though your dance card is always full, the second and sometimes even third dance are permanently reserved for him. Your smile is the brightest for him and ever present whether you’re together, on the dance floor or off. There is no politeness or restraint with the two of you, only lively and animated conversation - the cheerful and melodic harmony of your joint laughter often carrying above the noise of the room. He only ever smiles for you.

In between dances, if you’re not engaging in small talk with other young ladies or your suitors, you can always be found chatting happily with Pero and the Bridgertons; the other ball goers looking over in jealousy that your little corner of friends might actually dare to enjoy yourselves at an event meant for the very serious business of finding husbands.

Mornings at Bridgerton House include the usual parade of suitors waiting with gifts and flowers to have an audience with you or Francesca, and to Eloise’s extreme mortification, sometimes her as well. If he doesn’t stay after breakfast, Pero generally arrives mid-morning to visit with Colin, but spends the majority of his time scowling at the young men waiting patiently in line, making no secret of the fact he’s scrutinizing them as he passes by.

The Duchess cannot decide if the Barón is a help or a hinderance to your marriage prospects. On one hand, his fearsome glower and imposing figure have been enough to scare off any potential suitor who either had less than honourable designs on your fortune, or, via consensus with the Bridgerton brothers, was deemed to be a rake, or worse. On the other hand, it was clear to any person with eyes that the two of you have a deep friendship - your company the only one he sought out, and his always cheerfully received by you. Daphne could only imagine that it might intimidate even the most strong-willed, unwavering of suitors. She wonders if any of your suitors ever question if your friendship with Pero masked a deeper affection between the two of you; she herself having started to wonder the same.

Convincing herself that it’s for your ultimate well-being, she endeavours to talk to the Barón about it.

The morning after the Crawford Ball, when the line of suitors is the longest its ever been, Daphne waits for Pero to make his usual appearance mid-morning, and when he is seen in, she’s already anticipating him at the bottom of the stairs. After he greets her courteously, she asks, “Barón Tovar, may I please request a moment of your time? There is something with which I need your assistance.”

Following the Duchess into a room off the main hall, Pero asks with curiosity, “What may I do for you, your Grace?”

Daphne starts by thanking him for his support during the season, acknowledging that his presence has meant so much to you and helped you tremendously in conquering any nerves you may have had about debuting.

“Of course. The pleasure has genuinely been all mine; it sometimes feels almost unbelievable that it has been over ten years since we last saw each other. I have found it remarkably easy to fall into old patterns.”

“Yes, it is evident that the two of you are very close,” Daphne hopes that her comment comes out as the compliment she intends while at the same time hinting to Pero why she may have asked to speak to him in the first place.

Countenance faltering a little but still keeping his tone kind, Pero queries, “Is there something you wish to ask me, your Grace?”

Daphne decides from the limited time she’s known Pero that he is the type of person to appreciate transparency and directness, and so she ask with what she hopes is an impassive look on her face, “Do you intend to court her, my Lord?”

Pero nearly stutters, so caught off guard by the question. He contemplates the implication of the Duchess having asked this question, and then, more seriously, his answer; after a few moments of silence, Pero responds truthfully, “No.”

Daphne nods in response, “I see, my Lord. Please do excuse me for asking what you may have found to be an impertinent question.”

“Not at all, your Grace. I rest easy at night confident that you always have your friend’s best interests at heart.”

Daphne nods, “Yes, always. That is my highest priority. Please consider with me: if I have wondered, do you think it is possible that some suitors and potential suitors have pondered the same question?”

And there it is, a perfectly reasonable question that Pero knows if he were to answer, would expose a part of his heart that he’s been keeping hidden, maybe even from himself. Pero was telling the truth when he said he would not court you, but he is not so selfish to wish to keep you from another if he cannot have you for his own. Truthfully, he is aware that he presents an intimidating and imposing figure, the mettle of which might scare off any number of gentlemen interested in pursuing you.

“I should step back,” he announces abruptly and with finality.

“No, no!” protests Daphne, “I do not think that is necessary! Your presence and attendance with us at the season’s events have been most welcomed and to be honest, a comfort.”

“I do not wish to do more harm then good, though,” Pero says, resigned, “If my presence deters someone who might be her match, I could never forgive myself.”

Again, though Daphne has only known Pero for a short period of time, she somehow knows that he’s made up his mind, and that even she, a Duchess, does not have the power to change it. Pero thanks her for all her continued kindness and attention towards you and bids her goodbye with a bow. Heading to leave out the front door, he looks up, as if looking through to the drawing room where you’re currently sitting, one last time before exiting Bridgerton House with a heavy heart.

You haven’t seen Pero in a week and a half and you’re worried sick about him. He hasn’t been by Bridgerton House at all and he missed the Trowbridge Ball last week. He, of course, does not owe you a tally of his coming and goings, but you feel unsettled at having not seen him for such an extended period of time after having seen him nearly every day for the past two months. Your days, though full of engagements, feels empty when he doesn’t make an appearance. You miss him. You miss his gentle teasing, his reassuring presence and the way only he can make you laugh. You have not really laughed in nearly ten days.

You convince Eloise to show you how to sneak out and traverse the alleys that run behind the houses of the square safely and quickly, the way you know she used to in order to visit Penelope, so you can secretly pop down the street to check in on Pero one evening.

You follow Eloise’s instructions exactly as you hurry along the pathways that weave behind the grand houses and it takes you only five minutes to reach the house Pero is staying at. Standing in the small courtyard, you spot one window with a light on; hoping Pero is in the lit room, you find a few stones on the ground and launch them upwards. Your aim could be better, but you do manage to hit your target a few times, ricocheting a few stones against the glass with the lightest of clinks. When you see Pero’s face appear in the window, you’re more than relieved – he doesn’t look so ill that he can’t move about and that’s good news. You wave at his confused face and watch as he leaves the window; it’s a minute before the back door opens, “Dulce, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Pero is looking around into the courtyard, concerned for why you would appear at his door in the middle of the night, alone.

“I could be asking you the same thing, Pero! I am so relieved to see you up and about, I’ve been so worried about you!”

Pero melts a little at the concern written across your face, “Me? Why?”

“I haven’t heard from you in… well, it has been ten days now! You haven’t been by Bridgerton House, Colin did not know where you were, and you missed the last ball! I thought you must have taken ill!” your voice sounding a little shrill as your finish in a huff, as if why you might be worried was the most obvious thing in the world.

Pero laughs a little at your theatrics and his jovial manner makes you laugh as well, “I am very glad that you are not. I mean, you’re not ill, are you?”

“No, I am not, Dulce. Thank you for being worried about me.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “You are very welcome. Well! Now that I am convinced you’re not at Death’s door, may I ask where you’ve been? Why have you not come to see me?”

Pero scratches the back of his neck and looks mildly uncomfortable, “I had some business to take care of over the last few days that took up a lot of my time.”

“Oh! Well, I hope it has all been settled to your satisfaction!”

“It has.”

You’re glad for him, “Good. Then things will be back to normal? You will be able to come to the Queen’s Luncheon this week?”

“I do not think so, Dulce,” his chest tightens a little at the way your face falls, “I think it is probably better if I stay away for a while. I don’t think I am helping your marriage prospects very much.”

You’re so confused, what does Pero have to do with your marriage prospects? “Pero, I’m not sure what you mea-” but you’re cut off from finishing your thought when you hear a distinctively feminine laugh ring out from inside the house, followed closely by a response from a second, also feminine voice.

Your hands fly to your mouth to cover your gasp of shock upon realizing that Pero has company. Female company. And for some inexplicable reason, your eyes start to fill with tears, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry! I did not realize you were not alone! I am so sorry to interrupt!”

You’re babbling and you’re not sure why nor can you seem to stop yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” It’s not from embarrassment. You’ve known Pero far too long to be embarrassed by anything with him; the two of you have always been able comfortable enough with each other to laugh off most things. No, this is something else - an uncomfortable, sharp feeling right in the middle of your chest, “I just thought you were sick and I am so very glad you’re not. I’ll go now! I am sorry, so sorry!” You fight back tears as you turn and flee back to Bridgerton House.

Eloise is waiting for you as she promised she would; she freezes when she sees your tear-stained face but to her credit, doesn’t pry – she just asks if you are okay and ushers you back into the house when you nod. By the time you’re tucked into bed and your lights have been blown out, you’ve been able to name the dreadful feeling that’s made a home in your heart. It’s devastation. You’re devastated. And plenty confused and angry at yourself for feeling that way! It’s selfish, you think, selfish and childish. You have become so accustomed to being the only woman Pero ever paid attention to, you realize that you had somehow come to think of him as yours, and having been confronted tonight with the fact that he decidedly is not, you’re now feeling foolish and plunging headfirst into a sense of loss for something that was never yours in the first place.

But… was that all it was? No, it wasn’t. You had liked it. You liked being the only one he danced with. The only one who he seemed to smile for. The only one who could make him laugh. Oh, his laugh. Deep and booming - you lived for the way it shook all the way from his belly and crinkled the little lines around his eyes. You harboured pride in being the only one who could pull it from him and you liked all the other ways that his countenance would seemingly soften just for you. He made you feel special and so worthy.

And that wasn’t the only way he did so. He was so thoughtful and considerate; remembering even the littlest things about you: what you liked, what brought you joy. He knew you so very well; always knowing the exact thing they would make your heart sing and taking every opportunity to do so.

You think about how Pero had let you lean on him this entire season - every request for reassurance or support met with kindness and words of praise for your wit, your mind, your sweet nature that you couldn’t help but believe based solely on the earnest and genuine expression in his eyes.

He had been there every step of the way with you, shouldering some of the pressure of the season so you wouldn’t have to; being your reprieve and relief, a shelter where you could laugh loudly and unabashedly be yourself.

He made you feel free and cared for.

And Lord, was he handsome. Closing your eyes, you think of the distinct slope of his nose and the strong cut of his jaw, covered in that scruff of his - unkempt but somehow still so distinguished. You think of Pero’s deep brown eyes that would fleck with gold when he laughed, and wonder how you haven’t fallen into them every time he looked at you. And his hair. Oh, his hair. Your fingers actually itch just thinking about the soft curls that frame his face so perfectly; how you wish you could run your hands through them.

The thought that there is another woman who might be doing exactly that right now shatters your heart so completely.

You love him. The realization is both a relief and a complete shock to your system.

The unexpected admission to yourself that you’re in love with Pero, followed closely by the certainty that your feelings are undoubtedly unrequited, is a one-two punch to your heart.

You cry and cry until sleep overtakes you.

I've never done a tag list before so please let me know if it doesn't work, or you don't/do want to be on it, or it sets your phone on fire 😅 @drewharrisonwriter @inept-the-magnificent @tuquoquebrute @stcrrjoon @anoverwhelmingdin

@callsignmedusa

#regency!pero tovar #pero tovar #bridgerton au #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 3 months ago

Note

Do you have any favorite bl dramas or bl series that you watched that came out this year? What are they if you have any?

Hi Anon 🥰

It is finally the end of the year and I can answer this ask. It was more difficult than I thought. Not because there were so many series that I loved, but because there were so few that I completely liked. There are some really good shows out there that I haven't watched yet, I definitely watched less shows this year than I did in 2023, but I was able to find ten shows that I really liked and enjoyed and would recommend without a second thought.

So here we go, in no particular order.

ThamePo

Well this series has only three episodes out and I am completely in love with it. If this is going down bad in the end, I don't want to know yet... It is just the most romantic shit I have seen this whole year!

Let Free The Curse Of Taekwondo

This series hurt us all at some point... or during the whole middle part. But it was such a real series and so good produced and with great acting.

Your Sky

And another series that is still ongoing. This is the cutest series right now. They make me blush really hard every sunday!

Jack and Joker

Yes, this series has it flaws and plot-holes, but I loved every bit of it. This series had some of the best characters this year, especially the grandma! A real hero!

Love For Love's Sake

I would say, this is my favorite show of the year. I loved every second of it. There was a meaning behind everything and reading all the meta about this show was a delight.

Cherry Magic Thailand

Who would have thought that Thailand could produce such a delightful adaptation of this popular Japanese classic? It was adorable.

Unknown

My second favorite series this year. The spell this series put on me was something else. I couldn't think about anything else at the time.

The On1y One

My beloved stepbrothers without a chance of telling the other one that they love each other. I am still upset about the ending. But the stuff we had until then was so good!

The Boyfriend

Yes, this is a dating show. And I was obsessed with it and especially with Dai and Shun. The fact that those two are still a couple is so great! It is really worth a watch.

The Nipple Talk

I have the feeling nobody talked about this show. But it was good! It was entertaining and mature and a little bit over the top at times. I had a blast watching the group of friend manoeuvring through life.

Well that was my little list of favorite bls of 2024.

#2024 bl wrap up #josi watching bl #anon ask #josi answering #bl drama #bl series #the nipple talk #the boyfriend #cherry magic th #love for love's sake #unknown the series #your sky #thamepo #the on1y one #jack & joker #let free the curse of taekwondo #2024 wrap up

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starrylothcat · 2 years ago

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💕Clone Commander NSFW Headcanons💕

A/N: Headcanon/Drabble bullet list about our dear, dear Commanders. I’ve been having major feels about them lately.

Sorry if it’s crap lmao I wrote it on my lunch. It’s what came to my head first for each and I needed to get these thots out of my brain! 🤣

Warnings: NSFW. 18+. Clone Commanders x Reader. (Mayday, Cody, Wolffe, and Fox)

Pls enjoy~

Mayday

There’s making love, and then there’s making love with Mayday.

This man WORSHIPS you like the god(dess) you are.

He knows every inch of your body, every part of you that makes you giggle, sigh, moan, beg for more, etc.

He’s very intimate and loving, and gets off on getting you off.

Mayday wants nothing more than to pleasure you and treat you with the utmost reverence.

Favorite position: Missionary. Mayday wants to be as close as possible and look you in the eyes as you fuck, seeing how much pleasure you’re receiving and how good he’s making you feel.

He loves when you wrap your legs/arms around him and pull him impossibly closer, seeing every expression on your face as he thoroughly takes care of you.

Praise praise praise. Mayday loves whispering to you how good you are for him, how incredible you feel, how much he loves you, etc. He loves hearing it back, too

Idk I just think he’d be an intensely romantic partner and treat you so right 🥰

Cody

This man is precise and in control at all times.

Cody doesn’t want to rush. He’s a man who takes his time to undo you, warming you up to the point of you begging for him to just take you. He knows you inside and out.

BUT call him “sir” or “Commander” and it’s all over for him.

His dominant facade crumbles and loses his control, his hips driving faster and deeper into you with wild abandon.

Favorite position: You sitting in his lap since it gives him total access to your body.

Cody’s hands can roam and grope your thighs, ass, he can leave his marks on your neck and chest while being so close to you.

That’s really what he wants. Just to be close.

Hearing your whines, the sighs of his name as you bounce on his cock. It really gets him going. He knows that you’re his and he is yours.

He’ll groan orders hotly in your ear to go faster, slower, when you’re allowed to cum, how perfect you are when you’re doing so, etc.

Cody is also a secret romantic. After, he’ll kiss your hands, your cheeks, your eyelids, your forehead.

He loves laying with you after, feeling your body against his as you both doze off in one another’s arms.

Wolffe

This man is intense, but passionate.

Loves being in control, his favorite thing in the world is hearing his name leave your lips in pleasured moans.

The louder you are, the better. It makes the man go feral knowing he’s making you feel this way.

Favorite position: you flat on your stomach and him laying on top of you.

He loves the carnal aspect of it, mounting you and driving deep, feeling your ass on his hips, his lips at your ear growling and groaning how you are his. He doesn’t last long in this position but it drives him absolutely wild.

Is a little possessive, gets off knowing no one else can make you feel like this.

After awhile of being in a relationship he’d be comfortable enough to let you take charge in the bedroom. It’s a vulnerable position for him and only something he’d allow with someone he fully truly trusts.

And when that does happen, he loves it. He might not admit it at first, but he’d ask for it again.

Wolffe’s aftercare is next level, though. When the wild fucking is over, he’ll curl up to you, kiss you so gently and clean you up, handling you with tender care.

He’ll murmur sweet words, making sure you’re okay and telling you how much he loves you.

Fox

As we all agree, this man needs a damn break.

He loves being taken care of by you.

Fox doesn’t mind relinquishing some control and just laying back and letting you take charge of his pleasure.

That’s not to say he won’t reciprocate, he absolutely will. He loves giving oral and undoing you completely with his hands and mouth.

Favorite position: cowgirl / you on top. Seeing you take what you want and having the perfect view of your body while doing so just does it for him.

You can practically see his stress melt away as you ride him, his eyes never leaving yours as he thrusts almost desperately back up into you.

It’s the only time he can just get lost in you, and forget his burdens, even just for a little bit. You take such good care of him, and he you.

After you ride him and have your fill, he’ll spoon you and fuck you that way, slow and deliberate, kissing your shoulder and mumbling soft praises in your ear, wishing this could never end.

Being with you in this intimate way is his favorite distraction from his high-pressure job, and he’s going to enjoy every second of it.

Taglist: @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @dukeoftheblackstar @king-chaos-world @blueink-bluesoul @wolffegirlsunite @the-cantina @523rdrebel

#commander Cody #commander Wolffe #commander mayday #commander fox #commander Cody x reader #commander Wolffe x reader #commander fox x reader #commander mayday x reader #the bad batch #the clone wars #starrycatwrites #clone headcanons #the clone wars fanficfion #fox x you #Wolffe x you #Cody x you #mayday x you

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aimee-maroux · 28 days ago

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February Newsletter: Hearts, Hearts Everywhere! 💕

Hello my lovelies,

I wrote in my goals for 2025 that I want to regularly post newsletters this year and lo and behold, this is the start!

Happy Valentine's Day and I hope you enjoy this curation of love-themed stories and articles. 🌹

Guide to your Athenian Wedding 💍

The ancient Greek "wedding season" was early in the year due to the anniversary of Zeus' and Hera's wedding on 27 Gamelion. In our calendar the month of Gamelion roughly lies between January and February due to following the moon phases rather than the sun. So it's the perfect time to learn how to throw a big, fat, ancient Greek wedding! Learn all about it here!

Greek Mythology's Sweetest Love Stories 🥰

I only published it two days ago but in case you missed it: I made a list of sweet, happy love stories from Greek mythology including happy gay couples. Did I include your fave? These are mine but what is your favourite love story in Greek myth?

Pre-order Punderworld 💸

@sigeel's pun-filled retelling of the story of Hades and Persephone goes into round 2 in September 2025. You can follow the comic's regular updates on webtoons and Tapas but it's well worth to own in "dead tree form" for the beautiful cover art alone. Pre-order Punderworld Volume 2 in print or e-book format at a discount and support an absolutely amazing indie creator!

Anthesteria 🌷

According to Hellenion's calendar, the Athenian Anthesteria festival in honour of Dionysos was this week. In antiquity it lasted three days, from the 11th to the 13th of the month of Anthesterion. A revival has been celebrated in Athens last weekend. The Anthesteria festival celebrates the beginning of Spring and in particular the maturing of the wine stored at the previous vintage, whose pithoi (storage-jars) were now ceremoniously opened. If you want a fun and entertaining introduction to the Anthesteria (with some brief strap-on action no less!), I highly recommend the comic Anthesteria by @a-gnosis. Follow her for regular updates of her most recent comic Queen of the Dead.

Girl On The Net Valentine's Dates 💏

If you have a special someone (lucky you!) and are looking for romantic date ideas to show them your love and celebrate your hots for one another, Girl On The Net has a dozen cute and sexy date ideas for you! Most of her ideas don't even cost a penny and focus on having fun and getting to know your partner even better. My personal favourites are the "taste test" and the "little joys bucket list". Seriously a whole list of great ideas! Check them out here.

Egyptian mythology Valentine's card 💌

My brilliant Egyptian mythology-loving illustrator @sinistersinita created a beautiful Valentine's card of the Egyptian god Seth last year for you to enjoy and download. Find it here!

Wanton Weekly Erotica Newsletter 📝

I have submitted two of my stories to the Wanton Weekly newsletter to see if I get any interest. The numbers are still out but I like the idea of a weekly newsletter with sexy stories, comics, and podcasts published in the past week. The format could be more reader-friendly in my opinion but check it out for yourself.

Latest Erotic Mythology Posts 🔥

The Sweetest Love Stories in Greek Mythology

Fiction: A Little Luxury (F / F)

Fiction: Glorious and Terrible (Penthesileia / Erinyes)

My Goals for 2025 and my 2024 in Review

Fiction: Energized (Amphitrite / Hera)

Fiction: Nuts for the Cindermaid

Migrated Posts: These are not new but now available on the website too instead of just Patreon.

Non-Fiction: Apollon and Branchos Introducing the real life myth of how Apollon and Branchos kissed in the woods and then they were boyfriends.

Non-Fiction: Apollon's Prophetic Children and Lovers The most famous and renowned seers in Greek mythology are either Apollon's children or lovers.

Upcoming: Even more lesfic in form of a sapphic Klytaimnestra / Erinyes foursome and a bit of fairytale magic with the second part of Nuts for the Cindermaid. Latest prompt ahead in the polls is Loki masturbating with Thor's hammer (not a euphemism), so look out for that too!

May Queen Hera smile upon your relationship and Golden Aphrodite add the needed spice. 💖

Love, Aimée

#Greek mythology #Aimée Maroux #ancient Greece #Punderworld #Linda Sejic #Li Österberg #Anthesteria #Valentine's Dates #newsletter #Valentine's Day #Valentine's Gay #valentine's card #Greek mythology fic #wlw #lesfic #gay fiction #LGBTQ

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day 25: Face sitting with Changbin

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: names (babe, sweetheart, baby), face sitting (it’s in the name), a couple ass slaps, idk changbin just got me boutta bark he’s hot as fuck

Summary: Your childhood best friend always gives you the most mind-blowing orgasms.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

You never intended to fuck him but it quickly became a routine thing after a drunken night out. There were no romantic feelings between the two of you, nothing more than platonic love and the mutual desire to get off. He was just your best friend and the single best fuck you’d ever had and neither of you could get enough.

“Please?” He asked again, his bottom lip jutting out as he begged. “You said it yourself that you’d let me do anything I wanted.”

“Well, yeah, it’s your birthday. But I meant like…I dunno, something kinky we’ve never done before. Or something solely for your pleasure, not mine.” You gave a huff of laughter as your cheeks went a soft pink and he stood up, joining you at the kitchen sink to place his dishes there.

“Y/N, we’ve been over this a thousand times.” He rolled his eyes as he turned to you, his large hands moving to your shoulders and giving a gentle shake. “Getting you off gets me off. I wouldn’t ask for something that wouldn’t serve me in any way.” You were about to protest when he pulled you against him, chest to chest as his arms slipped around your waist, so he could whisper in your ear. “Besides, you made me a birthday dinner. I think it’s only fair that I get dessert and you know how much I love that sweet pussy.”

You shuddered at his tone and words, nodding enthusiastically as your heart raced excitedly. How could you deny him? He was the birthday boy, after all. “Let me finish the dishes and I’ll-”

“Later.” He gathered you back up in his arms as you tried to back away, trapping you against his hard body. “We can clean up dinner later. I want you now.”

You nodded dumbly and gently pushed against his chest. “Bedroom.” You whispered and he instantly released you, taking your hand instead. You stole a glance as you turned away and noticed the swell in his jeans. You’d have to fix that for him.

He wasted no time in pulling you back against him once in your room. He buried his face in your neck and took a deep breath, your scent going to his head and making him dizzy. “You’re wearing that perfume I like…”

“I am.” You hummed, tipping your head further back for him as your fingertips slipped under his black tee and ghosted over the bare skin just above his pants. You felt his muscles tense under your touch and smiled a little. There was something so gratifying and undeniably sexy about knowing the effect you had on him.

“You’re gonna drive me insane one of these days.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning against your skin before he pressed his lips to your neck.

“You should know by now that that’s my goal.” You giggled breathlessly, a thrill rushing through your body when his hands moved to rest on your ass. You shivered as his teeth gently scraped against your skin and you let out a soft sigh as you pushed him towards the bed. “Let’s not play around…”

“What if that’s what I want?” He grinned teasingly even as he let you lift his shirt up, raising his arms so you could take it the rest of the way off. “This is ‘solely for my pleasure’, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I get to have my fun?” He chuckled softly as you pushed him onto the bed, straddling his lap once he was seated.

“Mm maybe, but you know I’m impatient.” You teased back, trying to ignore the rush of arousal you felt as his hands rested on the backs of your thighs, right below your ass. He gave a squeeze before letting one finger tease you through your shorts and you let out a soft gasp.

“That’s why I’ve been training you.” He challenged and you couldn’t fight back as his fingertips teased your pussy. “What do you say, babe? Do I get to have my fun?”

“Bin, please don’t tease me…” You whined, grinding down on his fingers as you elected to ignore his question.

“You’re so cute when you’re all worked up.” He cooed, moving his hands to your hips. He let them travel under your shirt, lifting it up and over your head and biting his lip when he saw you’d decided to forego a bra. “Stand up.”

Ever the obedient girl, you quickly stood up. You almost lost your balance as he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of your denim shorts and yanked you towards him. You braced yourself, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and he immediately began to press kisses to your tummy, making your face flush red. You bit your lip as he let his hands move to your hips for a brief moment before allowing them to travel along your thighs, calluses rough against your smooth skin.

He grinned against your skin when your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped a hand between your legs, cupping you through your shorts. “How cute.” He whispered almost mockingly as he pulled back. “Take them off.”

You needn’t be told twice. You immediately shed your remaining clothes and stood bare before him, trying to avoid eye contact as your face heated up. “Stunning.” He pressed a kiss just below your belly button as he gently nudged your feet apart. You whimpered softly when he ran a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. You wanted to touch him, wanted to run your fingers, or maybe your tongue, over every inch of exposed skin. You wanted to feel his muscles tense and flex under your touch. But at the moment, he was taking his time with you.

You frowned and whined in protest when he pulled away and he chuckled softly at your dismay, licking his finger clean. “Needy girl.” He laid back, his feet just barely leaving the ground, and your mouth watered at the sight of him. He was fucking beefy. There was no other word to describe him. He was strong and warm and he had the cutest belly, though he always pouted when you mentioned it. His abs were soft, not as sculpted as other men as stocky as himself, and you regularly had to fend off the urge to pat his stomach or just rest your hands there. He had a light happy trail leading into his jeans, which were pulled taught across his stiff cock.

He was laid out on full display and you wanted to worship him. He was stunning. But before you could act, he spoke again. “Come have a seat, sweetheart. I wanna taste more of you.”

You wasted no time in joining him on the bed but hesitated to sit on his face and he rolled his eyes. “You do this every time.” He faked annoyance as he pulled you over him and situated you how he liked.

“I like when you manhandle me…” You shrugged, giggling softly when he paused. He scoffed before wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down. You didn’t fight, allowing yourself to relax into his touch. His tongue flattened against your pussy and you bit your lip, stifling a small sound as you looked down at him.

He was focused on your already-dripping cunt, giving teasing licks as his fingers spread you open for him. You jolted away from him when his tongue flicked over your clit but he pulled you back into him rather forcefully, eliciting a helpless whimper. He finally looked up at you and gave an amused grunt as he sealed his lips around your clit, watching your face contort in pleasure as he sucked.

The man was a god with his tongue and he knew it. He took pride in his skills and the fact that he could make you cum harder than any other man ever had. He was determined to give you that again as he sucked harshly on your clit, flicking his tongue at the same time. The sounds coming from between your legs were obscene and you couldn’t stifle each moan that bubbled up from your chest as your head tipped back. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

Your hands tangled in his hair in an attempt to ground yourself and he groaned against your cunt, sending delicious vibrations through your core. Your jaw went slack and you let out a pathetic whine as you looked back down at him. His eyes had slipped shut when you looked away but he quickly found your gaze again when you moaned his name. Something about his expression made you clench around nothing and he chuckled against you, making you shudder as his hands slid to your ass.

He gave a slap and your hips jolted, making his nose bump against your clit as he took the opportunity to plunge his tongue inside you. “Oh fuck-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hands began to guide you back and forth so his nose repeatedly bumped your clit as he licked into you and you felt a light sheen of sweat begin to cover your body.

When you adopted his preferred rhythm as your own, his hands traveled up your sides and reached around to knead at your breasts. He fucking loved your tits. He would definitely have them in his mouth before the night was over. You whimpered when he lightly pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

The eye contact he maintained even as you fucked yourself on his tongue was going straight to your pussy and he grunted against you when you clenched. Even though you wanted him to keep playing with your chest, he quickly reached back to your hips and gave a firm squeeze as he guided you back down his face just enough for him to once more latch onto your clit. He could tell you were getting close and he was determined to finish you off.

He gave one final harsh suck and your body began to shake as molten lava filled your veins. “Bin- oh fuck-” You cried out, doubling over slightly with the force of your orgasm. Your grip on his hair grew tighter and he moaned into your cunt at the delicious pain as he continued to suck and lick, helping you ride it out while you had his head trapped against the bed - which he loved.

When you finally stopped trembling, he helped you lift yourself off his face and you immediately collapsed on the sheets with a lazy smile. “I’m never gonna get tired of that.” You teased as you fought to catch your breath, watching him stand from the bed.

“You better not because I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m gonna ask for every year now.” He grinned at you as he unbuttoned his unreasonably tight jeans. You internally lamented the loss of the visual of his cock straining against the light denim but your mouth watered as he stripped them off along with his briefs. “That was fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” You hummed as you got up and sank to your knees in front of him. “As hot as when I choke on your cock?” You looked up at him innocently and batted your lashes before leaning forwards to press a kiss just below his belly button as you wrapped your hand around his dick. “Let me return the favor, baby.” You mumbled against his skin, feeling him twitch in your hand.

“You still have three hours left in your birthday. Let’s spend the whole time celebrating.” You grinned up at him before opening your mouth for him to use you however he pleased. It was his special day after all.

#kpop smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids changbin #changbin #changbin smut #stray kids seo changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin smut #kinktober #alura’s works

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sodamnradd · 9 months ago

Note

Ok here's a prompt, but it's totally OK if it doesn't inspire you, but maybe it will? 🥰

"How can I convince you not to?"

These words are significant for me personally (I won't bore you with the details) and by putting them out there to see what someone could do with them creatively gives me a weird sense of peace. But again, I have no expectations and totally OK if you don't do anything with it.💜💜💜

hi anon! i know you sent this prompt ages ago. i was finally in the mood to write again. not sure you'll even seen this, but here we go:

A sharp grip sank into Hermione’s arm, stopping her short. “Don’t do it, Granger,” heaved Pansy. She must have chased Hermione all the way to the fireplace. In stilettos. “Don’t leave.”

Hermione pried herself from Pansy’s stabby claws. “He made his choice.”

“Yeah. You.”

“We’re at his engagement party.” Her voice cracked.

“You think he agreed to this obnoxious farce?” Pansy arched an ebony brow. “Narcissa blindsided us all.”

A few minutes ago, Hermione had entered the Malfoy’s Rose Garden to find a pedestalled portrait of Draco and Astoria at the entrance, posing like a pure-blood poster-couple. She’d been so shocked and hurt that she’d bolted.

“This was never going to work,” she told Pansy sadly.

Whether Draco knew it or not, this was Narcissa issuing a her or us ultimatum. Draco loved his family, and a three-month fling with Hermione didn’t merit sacrificing them. She had lost her parents young and wouldn’t dream of hurting him in that way. Even if it broke her heart.

Pansy’s lips pressed together. “Don’t you see how happy you make him?”

“We’re still in the honeymoon phase,” she half-told herself. “He can’t go a lifetime without his family.”

“You’re too rational for your own good. Be romantic for five seconds and open your bloody eyes!” Pansy snapped. “He won’t lose his family. He has me and Theo and Blaise and he’ll have you, Granger.”

“You can’t possibly believe that I mean more to him than his mother and father.”

“Do you honestly think I’d succumb to this gods-awful conversation if I didn’t? I don’t even like you.”

“Well, this is the perfect opportunity to get rid of me.”

“But I don’t have to like you,” Pansy proceeded. “I just have to like you for him. And I do. You make him less serious. More like the Draco I used to know in school. Always having a laugh, playful again, a little mischievous.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.

As Pansy listed all the ways Hermione had changed Draco, she considered all the ways Draco had changed her. Her nerves had virtually evaporated when public speaking, and she suspected it had everything to do with the way Draco vocally, physically, openly admired her. He made her feel beautiful and seen, and it made all the difference. Resulting in a fiercer version of herself. A Hermione 2.0, radiating with confidence.

But making Draco choose between her and his parents was graver than Pansy made it out to be. It was life changing. Lifestyle changing. There was no guarantee he could continue to depend on his family vaults. No guarantee he would even have a home after tonight if he chose Hermione. Eventually, he would realise she wasn’t worth it. And that would hurt more.

“He’s lucky to have you, Pansy. But I’m going home.”

“How can I convince you not to?”

Hermione gasped at the sound of his voice, whirling around to find Draco standing behind her. For how long? Surely not the entire conversation?

Her stomach fluttered when their eyes met. It was unfair how beautiful he looked, half lit by the corridor sconce, silky hair drawn back and expression stormy with resolve. It took everything not to cross the room and kiss him. She was fiercely jealous of Astoria Greengrass and needed to confirm that she was still his first choice. That Draco would choose Hermione purely out of his own selfish desire.

The click of heels drew Hermione’s attention back to Pansy, who gave her a meaningful look before disappearing around the corner.

Draco said, “Please, Hermione. I had no idea—”

“I know.”

His face flashed with relief. “Please don’t leave. Or better, let me come with you. Just promise we’re still us.”

She dabbed her cheek hastily. “It might be devastating now, but you’ll understand why this can’t work. You’ll lose everything, Draco.”

He stepped forward, clutching her arms and looking at her with blazing eyes. “This,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers and lowering his voice to a whisper, “is everything.”

There was fight in the way he kissed her—one arm tight around her waist, the other planted like tree roots in her curls. It was more than lust as their lips touched, more than sexual attraction as his tongue slipped between her teeth and coaxed—it was a plea.

In the back of Hermione’s mind, Pansy’s voice sniped, You’re too rational for your own good. And she considered whether the icy bitch with a surprising heart was onto something. Love wasn’t rational. It couldn't be alphabetized or stored in a filing cabinet. It was hardly containable. Love was like magic.

Hermione sank her face into Draco’s chest, twisting her arms around his waist and inhaling the scent she recognised like her own skin.

The tension in Draco’s body melted and he sighed softly.

“Let’s go home,” she said, mentally rearranging shelves and casting extendable charms to make room for him in her one-bedroom flat.

Draco’s mouth brushed her ear, as if reading her mind, “I get the larger wardrobe, right?”

And Hermione delivered the final blow by replying, “There’s only one wardrobe, love.”

Pansy watched, relieved, as a cloud of Floo powder ferried her stupidly happy best mate away.

(872 words... am i back in my tumblr prompt era? maybe. submit a ficlet/drabble prompt here.)

#draco x hermione #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dhr #hermione x draco #dramione drabble #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles #pansy parkinson

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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

Note

I see you have Crimson Peak listed for fics 👀

Picture this: Sir Thomas Sharpe doesn't have a sister and was never abused, therefore never got into the black widower routine. He's just a struggling inventor in London to wrangle investors for his machine because he's the last of his crumbling family line.

Reader is an heiress who rarely gets out because she's anxious and prone to panic attacks. Quite a sweet and pretty girl, but her parents are ashamed of her and hide her away.

Anyway there's a Halloween masquerade being held in town and both reader and Thomas attend (whether they sneak in or not is up to you) and they meet. They both feel more at home with each other than anyone else in the city, and start seeing each other secretly and fall in love.

Up to you if he asks permission to marry her or they elope and the parents pay to cover it up, but they get married and use her money to fund his inventions and fix up crimson peak. And have kid(s) to continue the family line.

A happy romantic story for two sweet and ignored people 🥰 (smut scene if you wanna, but it should be romantic)

-🐀

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader – Halloween (Sweet AU) Fandom: Crimson Peak Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader Rating: Teen Summary: AU in which Sir Thomas Sharpe never had his sister corrupt him and meets Reader at a Halloween masquerade.

Warnings: None Really. Romance. Talk about marriage and kids. Drama. Tiny bit of Angst? Sorry it was written in a rush. Possible Cameo for Albert Shaw.

Charity

In the comfort of your tower chamber, you stood, gazing out of the circle-top window at the people who passed in the streets below. You didn’t feel the need to be among them, content to be up here by yourself in a room full of comfort and little knick-knacks. You had your peace and quiet and you were content with it.

The wealth you had been born in, and the hefty salary that your parents paid you each month, was enough to ensure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the entirety of your life. Rich, others would call you. But if they could see your bedroom they might doubt that you were.

You didn’t feel the need for all the lavishness that money could grant you. You hardly spent a dime other than the usual necessities. Material possessions had little interest for you. Instead, you found solace in spending your money on charity, giving away some of your income to charities on a steady base.

It was almost fitting, then, that your heart would be captured by a man who was once a charity case himself.

You met him during one of the few occasions where you were allowed to venture out of your tower where your parents usually kept you locked away… like a secret. They were ashamed because you were still a spinster in your twenties. And you could not blame them. People looked at you oddly and whispered behind your back in the streets. And so you didn’t want to go out and be among them any longer, hiding yourself much to your parents’ relief.

But there were such occasions where you would go out. Usually small balls or events with family and close friends. Sometimes, to bigger events where you knew that people would not be able to recognize you.

You feared their reactions if they saw you, feared what they would say or do.

The yearly Halloween Masquerade was an event you dreaded. The stuffy ballroom, the leering gazes, the suffocating press of bodies all around - it threatened to bring forth the panic attacks that plagued your life. Yet tonight, as you stood at the edge of the dance floor, your eyes took in the beautiful sight of the latest fashion dresses and suits. Beautiful women and men danced together, their masks hiding their faces, yet they grew intimate in their dance. You wondered how it felt, had done so for a while, but at the same time weren’t keen to experience it yourself.

You tried to hide away, to not be noticed, despite the dress you wore; the silken emerald fabric hugged your curves and cascaded down to the floor, shimmering with each movement. The intricate golden mask on your face only partially concealed your identity, but it was enough to give you a fleeting sense of anonymity. People still stopped to ask you for a dance. Men still stopped.

You disliked their leering gazes, the way their eyes seemed to undress you from behind the masks. And so you tried your best to avoid dancing with them. Their intentions were clear, and you were not interested in any of them. Your heart raced, anxiety clawing its way up your throat. If only this evening could come to an end.

And then, a familiar face appeared among the crowd. Your savior. Giselle, one of the few friends you had, came rushing towards you in a gown matching your own. Her wide smile a beacon of relief.

"Would you care to dance?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. Finally, you were rescued.

Gratitude surged through you, and a genuine smile bloomed on your face. "I'd love to."

As you danced with Giselle, the familiar pressure in your chest began to dissipate. Her laughter, light and carefree, seemed to chase away the shadows that clung to your heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to enjoy the sensation of being alive. And you laughed; a pure, wholehearted smile.

Your joy was noted.

As you and Giselle danced, you felt the burning gaze of someone on your form. You carefully started to glance around.

“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, having noticed how your eyes traced the room.

“Someone’s watching me,” you mumbled, just loud enough for your voice to be carried over the tones of the music.

Giselle chuckled as she spun you around gracefully. “Of course, people are watching us,” she said, a sneer appeared on her face. “The Duke of Sparington has been trying to get my attention all evening. I’m so glad to get away. The guy’s in his forties and already has two kids and a tummy like a barrel. If I were to marry him he’d kill me in his sleep just by rolling over and ending on top of me.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh again, even though Giselle seemed to be grimacing at your reaction. It was obvious that she was repulsed by the man who had decided to chase her.

“Tell me, for the love of God,” you started, “That your parents won’t allow the match.”

But Giselle sighed deeply. “They’re much like yours,” she muttered, squeezing your hand a little too tightly as you continued the dance. “Eager to have me wed, even though they said to have given up on me already.”

Your eyes turned wide. “Well, you must convince them to hand you to another. If not younger, then at least thinner so you won’t be suffocated during your night’s rest.”

Giselle grinned at this, appreciating the joke. But you knew her situation was slightly different than yours. Albeit having been born in money pretty much like you had, Giselle’s dowry wasn’t nearly as large as yours. And her parents could not hide her away like yours had with you. The day for her to marry seemed to be closing in with each passing year.

You dreaded the thought.

If only we could marry for love, you thought solemnly. You held Giselle’s hand in your own as you spun around the room. And as the music swelled, your eyes drifted across the ballroom, settling on a figure who stood in stark contrast to the colorful array of masks and costumes. He was tall, slender yet muscular, clad in black as though he were an ethereal shadow amidst the sea of gaiety. His piercing blue eyes seemed to draw you in, ensnaring you with their intensity.

You couldn't look away. It was as if an invisible thread connected you both, pulling tighter with each passing second. Desire coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless. The world around you blurred, leaving only the two of you locked in this magnetic dance of longing.

This was the man who had been watching you. This was the gaze you had felt all along.

"Your turn," Giselle whispered, releasing your hand. It was then that the dark stranger approached, his movements fluid and graceful as he closed the distance between you.

"May I have this dance?" His voice was soft, yet carried an undertone of command.

"Of course," you breathed, entranced by the mysterious man before you. As he took your hand, electricity sparked between you, igniting a fire deep within your soul.

"Thomas Sharpe," he introduced himself as the two of you began to sway to the music. His low voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as if you'd danced together countless times before. He was good, you noticed. Kept his rhythm well and moved fluently, despite his tall height and rather stiff appearance. This mysterious man took you by surprise completely.

You whispered your name and gazed up at the masked stranger. His blue eyes seemed warm as they lay upon you, peering through the holes of the black and blue mask. The silver lines only emphasized the blue of his eyes, making him seem more like a spirit than a man. Could he be real?

“I haven’t seen you here before,” you murmured, weakly, as you tried to focus on the steps you took with your feet. Focusing was hard, because Thomas’s scent and warmth distracted you, and brought your mind to places your mother would describe as the gutter.

How did this man manage to bring about such wicked thoughts, you wondered? Especially now that you could not even see his full face?

“Ah, yes. That is because I am not from around here,” Thomas replied, and that would explain it all. During your years living here, you’d become familiar with most faces of the high society. And many of them you wished you’d never seen. “I’m only visiting shortly in an attempt to raise sponsors willing to support my cause.”

“And what cause is that?” you asked, eyes meeting his as the two of you swayed gently from side to side.

Something in Thomas’s eyes lit up, like the subject you allowed him to talk about brought him real joy. Joy, and something else. Hope, you wondered?

"I'm working on a machine to mine red clay from the earth surrounding my family's estate," Thomas explained, his eyes burning with passion. "I believe it has the potential to bring great wealth, but I'm in desperate need of funding."

Red bells went off inside your mind. Another gold digger, you thought. You’d seen them before, met them before, although they never had such a great impact as Thomas had.

"Red clay?" You frowned, intrigued by the man and his ambitions. Was he not just another suitor seeking your fortune, but someone fueled by dreams and desires much like your own?

"Indeed, it's a valuable resource with numerous applications," he continued, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "But my family's fortune has dwindled, and our estate is crumbling,” here he paused, giving you time to think. “I'm determined to restore it to its former glory."

"Tell me more," you urged, your heart pounding as power and desire mingled within you. He was a man of ambition, and you felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

As the music played on and the dance floor spun around you, Thomas spoke of his dreams, his lips brushing against your ear with each whispered word. The world outside ceased to exist - it was just you and Thomas, bound together by shared passions and undeniable attraction.

"Thomas," you breathed, feeling as if you were on the brink of something dangerous, yet incredibly thrilling. Your fingers intertwined, creating a bond that seemed unbreakable.

"Time seems to stand still with you," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

And in that moment, you knew that your life would never be the same.

Perhaps the decision you took was rash. But you had thought about it, had done so for years before this moment had come. You had refused every man who had come to your door simply because you hadn’t felt that spark. You even had started to think you were incapable of feeling such feelings at all. But then Thomas came onto the scene, and he rose feelings inside of you that you had never felt before.

Love. Lust.

Both feelings combined made you feel powerful and strong. If you could feel this for a man, then surely, you would have to chase the chance to be with him. If he wouldn’t want to have you, then so be it, but you at least had to try. You had always been honest about your feelings and had always listened to your heart when you made decisions.

Your heart raced as you pulled Thomas closer, your fingers entwined like tendrils of ivy. The music swelled around you, a wild torrent that threatened to drown out everything else.

"Thomas," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I like you."

The words hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that could shatter at any moment. He looked both elated and afraid, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. What an odd reaction, you thought, alarmed by the fear you saw in his eyes. Did he not want you? You knew it was only one meeting that you had, a few dances that you shared, but there was that spark. That moment when the two of you had gazed into each other’s eyes and had forgotten the world.

Surely, that must have meant something to him, right?

"Truly?" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. But then his grip on you faltered and you whimpered sadly when his arms fell away. A rejection, you thought upset.

"Sweet girl of mine,” Thomas whispered, the affection making you flinch because it felt so right – but you feared that in a moment he would be gone.

“I can’t give you what you need,” Thomas continued, voice laced with pain. As if admitting this hurt him more than you could possibly imagine. His hand reached for yours again, gently holding it.

“I haven't much to offer. My family's fortune is nearly gone, our estate in ruins...You’d be cold and far away from your family, living with a man who is hardly more than a bagger, trying to scrape back his family’s fortune and bringing back some lost glory to the Sharpe’s name."

"None of that matters to me," you assured him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. It was as if you were free-falling, the ground rushing towards you at breakneck speed. “I would like to explore the possibilities of there being an us. Of you being with me.”

But before he could respond, the music screeched to a halt, leaving you breathless and off-balance. Thomas' grip on your hand loosened, and he looked away, his eyes flicking towards the shadows that lingered at the edge of the ballroom.

"Please excuse me," he muttered, slipping away from you like water through your fingers. You watched him go, feeling bereft and adrift in the suddenly too-large room.

"Who was that?" Giselle asked, appearing at your side with a concerned frown. "You look... shaken."

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured, still searching for him among the swirling throng of dancers. "He just... left."

"Perhaps it's for the best," she suggested, her gaze following yours. "Forget about him, darling. Dance the night away with me instead."

The next day, you found yourself holed up in your tower chamber, the memory of your dance with Thomas haunting your every waking moment. You had inquired after him, researched him, desperate for any scrap of information that might help you understand the man who had so thoroughly captivated you. Luckily, your parents and their servants could provide you with all the information you might need.

"Sir Thomas Sharpe," you whispered to yourself, tracing the letters on the page with your fingertips. "Baronet and engineer."

You learned that his family line was dwindling. He was the last alive, with no heir to carry on the name. His house, once grand and imposing, now lay in ruins - a testament to the passage of time and the ravages of decay. But despite it all, Thomas still dreamed of resurrecting his family's fortune with his ambitious red clay mining project.

And you thought he might be onto something.

With renewed vigor, you set about drawing up plans for his machine, inspired by the conversation you'd shared while dancing. The hours slipped away as you sketched and calculated, determined to lend your own talents to his cause.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you spread the blueprints across the table, studying them with a critical eye. This was something real, something tangible that could bring you closer to the man who had stolen your heart in one dizzying waltz.

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured again, feeling the name curl around your tongue like a secret. "I'll find you... I promise."

A new day dawned, and you found yourself summoned to the drawing room. The request, although not unusual, surprised you, because your mother demanded you’d be presentable. Fear gripped your heart at that because it could only mean one thing.

A suitor.

And how you dreaded to come face to face with a man whose visage or demeanor repulsed you. Especially now that your mind was set on only one man in the entire universe.

The door creaked open to reveal Thomas standing there in front of your parents, hat in hand, his black coat clinging to his slender frame. His gaze met yours, a piercing blue that sent a shiver down your spine and weakened your knees. This was the first time you properly saw his face and oh-my! He was handsome. More so than you had envisaged him to be in your dreams. It felt as if your heart stopped beating entirely and as if the world froze in a blizzard of roses and butterflies. This man.

But wait, had he come looking for you?

"Miss," he began, his voice soft as silk, "I must confess that ever since our encounter at the masquerade, I have been unable to forget you." There was something gritty about his voice that betrayed the truth of his words. As if he had tried his best to put you out of his mind and had failed.

You liked that, though. You liked the thought of him being unable to forget you. It meant he was as much on your mind as you were on his. Your heart raced at his admission, but you fought to maintain your composure.

Your parents, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, seemed to light up at the whole display. Your father spoke with enthusiasm, "Sir Thomas Sharpe here asked for your hand in marriage,” he said to you. “I think it would be a wonderful match.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mother turned to Thomas with a smile. “Sir Thomas, we would be honored to welcome you into our family."

Thomas stood rigidly, and you could have missed the relief that flooded his eyes entirely had you not been looking at them. There was a sudden warmth to his gaze that told you that this was what he had come for.

But at the same time, you felt doubt cling to your heart. You wanted him, but… he stood so rigid, so unmoving. Like a true gentleman, you thought. But were your parents aware of his misfortune, you wondered? Or had he tricked them into making a match? The rich spinster whose parents feel embarrassed, eager to marry her off to a man with a pretty title who seems to have captured their daughter’s heart. The first to have achieved this.

"Mother," you whispered, pulling her aside, and out of the drawing room where you would have a bit of privacy and the men couldn’t hear. "I don't understand. He is poor, why are you encouraging this?"

"Darling," she replied in a hushed tone, her breath warm against your ear, "you have the funds, he has the need. It's your duty to marry and secure our family's future.”

“His house is in shambles, you told me yourself,” you whispered. “Aren’t you afraid he will usurp all of my resources? Have you considered he might only want to marry me because of my wealth?”

But your mother shook her head and smiled. “Listen, dear, Thomas seems to behave like a true gentleman. You could do worse. Besides,” here she paused and you waited full of anticipation to hear what argument she was going to use next, “even if he is poor, he needs an heir. And it is your duty as a woman to continue the line of our family. And quite frankly, I haven’t seen you as interested in a man in all of my life. Just take this opportunity and don’t ruin it. You’re going to be a good mom, give birth to a son to ensure a safe future for yourself and our family, and I will finally have the grandchildren I so desire."

Anger bubbled within you, hot and fierce. You wanted to marry for love, not obligation. And you decided to tell your mother as much.

“I won’t marry just to be a breeding mare,” you hissed. “If I marry it’ll be out of love. Not out of obligation.”

The creaking of the floorboards made you look up in shock to meet deep blue eyes of Thomas as he rounded the corner. How much had he heard? There was a sadness in his eyes that quickly melted into a fierce determination. Oh no, your heart raced as your mind clouded with disastrous scenarios. His face was pale - paler than before - and his eyes widened in shock.

"Thomas," you tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable.

"Forgive me, Miss. Coming here was a mistake. I must take my leave," he said, his voice barely a whisper. And without another word, he left the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.

“Sir Thomas!” Your mother called out, running after him as fast as her skirts would allow. You knew you’d be in trouble now.

Don’t ruin it, your mother had said, only milliseconds before you’d done just that.

You watched Thomas go, a flurry of black coat and wounded pride. The memory of his touch, his scent, and his voice haunted you, taunting you with the promise of what could have been. But as the door closed behind him, a cold, hard truth settled in your bones. You had lost him, and it was unlikely you would ever find him again.

Days had passed since your last encounter with Thomas, and the ache in your chest grew stronger. The walls of your chamber felt suffocating, so you defied your parents' wishes and ventured outside into the bustling streets. Your reappearance caused whispers to spread like wildfire; some marveled at your beauty and kindness despite your reclusive nature, while others gossiped about your unmarried status.

Returning home, cheeks flushed from the cool air, your heart sank as you found a man you had known all of your life as Uncle Al - one of your neighbors – speaking to your father in hushed tones. It was apparent he was asking for your hand in marriage.

"Please, sir," the man said, desperation lacing his voice, "I can provide for her."

"Give me away?" You scoffed, anger boiling inside you. "To him?"

The man had known you from when you were a little child and was older than you by far. You had been shocked by the amount of men at your parents’ door recently, but to see him. The neighbor who had always been so kind to you… It was unsettling.

“You can’t be serious,” you said, uncaring if it hurt the man’s feelings. “He’s nearly as old as you!”

Your father's eyes narrowed, clearly displeased by your outburst. “Nearly as old, perhaps,” he said, voice low like a warning. “But he is a good friend of our family and he deserves a bit of happiness.”

Your neighbor stood up a little straighter, a lustful gleam in his eye as his gaze fell upon you. You felt a shiver run down your spine. No, you thought. No way you’d give him the heirs your mother so wanted. Your heart already belonged to another and you had made up your mind a little while ago.

“And a bit more respect as well, don’t you agree?” The hiss made it clear that your father was not to be argued with, and so you directed your gaze down at the ground and muttered a brief apology.

Al seemed to accept it, for a smile took possession of his lips and he turned back to your father again. “Such an endearing creature,” you heard him say, voice like silk. “Whyever have you kept her away from us for so long?”

Because of this, you thought, sadly. Your parents might have feared this. And with a start, you realized how you had set your own demise into motion. That they hadn’t as much locked you away out of shame as well as to protect you from all the unwanted gazes and proposals of men twice your age or more. They knew you hadn’t wanted to marry and had given you the space. But now, society demands them to hand you over to someone. And who better than a family friend they had known all of their lives?

“It is settled then,” you heard Al say and lifted your gaze to see him shake your father’s hand. Your father forced a smile, though you recognized by now that it did not reach his eyes.

A measurement out of necessity. A must. You thought with a shock. Unable to look at the two men any longer, you turned on your heels and ran away. Your bedroom felt safe, for now, high up in your tower, as you threw yourself upon the bed and clutched your pillows tight.

“Not him,” you breathed through tears. “Not Al.” No matter how kind your neighbor had been when you were smaller, he was old and started to grey. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Thomas and didn’t have the same voice or scent.

And there he was again. Thomas never seemed to leave your mind.

After you calmed down enough, you pushed yourself off the bed. Your chest heaved with fury as you went to stare out the window, your breath fogging the cold glass.

You weren’t looking at anything in particular when your gaze fell upon the familiar figure of Thomas across the street. You’d been occupied with your own thoughts, and it took you a few seconds before you realized that your gazes had crossed. All this time you had been searching for him. You knew he was still in the area, knew he had made visits to unsuccessfully gain sponsors to fund his work. But you’d never been able to catch sight of him. And here he was, underneath your window, staring at you from across the street with silent admiration.

How long had he been there?

Your heart leaped. Not wasting another second, you rushed down the stairs and outside, the door slamming behind you.

"Thomas!" You called, seeing how he had turned and was walking away from you. Despite the street being busy this time of the day, you followed his tall shape, running past people and making your way zigzagging through the crowd. The top hat he wore indicated where he went. “Thomas, wait!”

But he kept walking. And just when you started to get out of breath, you saw him come to a standstill. Relieved, you caught your breath and ran towards him. It was as if he waited for you, standing tall and proud, his back still turned towards you. Then he slowly turned around to face you, a sad expression marred his features. His blue eyes were full of turmoil.

"Dear girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "I know you must think me a monster, standing underneath your window like I have…”

You shook your head fiercely. “No, not at all,” you breathed.

“I must confess, I have been watching you more frequently these days. I tried to forget, but… I felt drawn to your window more and more, just to catch a glimpse of you,” Thomas admitted, silently. He hung his head in shame. But his blue eyes were kept firmly upon you. “My heart still beats for you."

His admission sent shivers down your spine, your desire for him growing stronger like a moth drawn to a flame.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Surprise was visible on his face, but only for a moment. Then, he carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace.

“When I said I would not marry out of obligation, I also said I wanted to marry out of love,” you whispered, aware that Thomas could hear. “It is you I have always been waiting for. I want no other.”

Thomas pulled away from the embrace and looked deep into your eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. He found none.

He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, his hands gently caressing your face. The kiss was soft and tender but quickly intensified. As you pulled away, the hunger in your eyes was evident. Without saying a word, you grabbed Thomas's hand, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you.

You led Thomas back to your home. “You must talk to my father again,” you said, still holding his hand in your own. You could feel his eyes upon you, burning with desire. “He just gave me away to another.”

“Another?” Thomas sounded as if he hardly could believe his ears, and you felt how his grip on your hand inadvertently intensified. Once he noticed his bodily reaction, he looked ashamed at your joined hands and relieved some of the pressure, holding your hand gently again.

“I said I wouldn’t, but,” you hesitated, chewing your lip pensively as the both of you stood in front of your parents’ home, glancing up at the tower that you slept in. “Since I have been going out, people have started to notice me.”

You turned to Thomas, eyes locking, and found a look of wonder in his. “A spinster,” you clarified, gently squeezing his hand. “Society has been building up pressure until my father had to relent. I need to be married for the honor of the family name.”

“Then lead me inside,” Thomas said, voice hoarse, almost as if there was a hidden second layer to his words. Inside, it purred inside your mind. Yes, that was where you wanted him. In you, around you, part of you. And so, you led him inside, determined to make your parents see reason. As you entered the parlor, their disapproving eyes bore into you.

"Father, Mother, look who I have brought home," you said, their heads turning to look at the two of you in wonder. There you stood, hand in hand with the man of your dreams. Thomas’s eyes were glinting, a tremble to his smile. Hope, that was the right word. He radiated hope.

"Thomas?" Your father sounded surprised. "The struggling inventor?"

“Sir Thomas Sharpe,” Thomas said firmly, taking you and your parents by surprise. “I might lack the funds for the comfort your daughter deserves, but I have an abundance of love for her. I asked you before and I beg you to consider me again. Annul the agreement with the other suitor to her hand. Your daughter and I are in love. And I will pledge to keep her safe and care for your daughter and our children, if we are blessed to have any, until the end of my days.”

The speech was long, heart-warming, and rendered you speechless. As you watched Thomas he seemed to transform into something else, something ethereal. A glowing creature, full of power and passion. It only confirmed the choice you had made.

Your parents stood there, silently, But you could tell by their faces that they were deep in thought.

"His heart is true, and he loves me," you insisted, gripping Thomas's hand even tighter. "Do you not wish for my happiness?"

A tense silence filled the room until your mother finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "Very well, we shall accept his proposal."

Relief washed over Thomas's face, his eyes brimming with gratitude and love. The weight of your decision hung in the air, heavy but necessary. And that night you had your first meal together. The next morning was spent walking and chatting, getting to know each other a little better.

And as the days passed by, you had no regrets.

Months later, with your dowry spent on tools and materials, you watched as Thomas began to build his machines according to a combination of your designs and his own. His hands, once soft and delicate, grew calloused as he toiled away in his workshop. You watched from the shadows, pride swelling in your chest as his dreams slowly came to life.

Life in your new home wasn't easy; the roof leaked, the walls were damp, and the cold seeped through every crack. But together, you made it work. When you discovered you were pregnant, the hardships only intensified. You were sick quite often and with no servants to tend to your needs, you had to do everything around the house yourself. You fell ill during pregnancy, running a fever that made Thomas fear for both your life as well as that of your unborn child. But you survived and got better. And despite the challenges, love kept you warm. Your shared passion was like an inferno against the bitterness of the world.

By the time your child arrived, a fragile, wailing bundle, Thomas's business had begun to flourish. You supported him unwaveringly, standing by his side as he navigated the treacherous waters of entrepreneurship.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured one night as you lay entwined beneath threadbare blankets, your child nestled between you. "Without you, none of this would be possible."

"Thank you," you whispered back, tears glistening in the moonlight. "For giving me a life worth living."

Slowly but surely, Thomas's business continued to grow, allowing you to repair your home and provide for your growing family. Life was still tough, but it was a life filled with love, laughter, and the knowledge that you had chosen the right path.

And so, with your children surrounding you, you lived out your days as a happy family, bound together by the unyielding force of love, triumphing against all odds.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#sir thomas sharpe #Sir thomas sharpe x you #reader x thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak fanfiction #enjoy the romance #sweet fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader

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calicoheartz · 11 months ago

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hi! how are you?? i was wondering if you can write some hcs of dating ellie? thanks!!!!!

A Love like No Other ; Ellie Williams

summary : just dating hcs of you and ellie !

warnings : tooth-rotting fluff 🦷

master list ㇀♡

a/n : I’m doing great anon! Tysm for asking and requesting this!! im so excited to start writing more for abby & ellie 🥰 enjoy ! ◡̈

gestures of affection ;

Ellie might not always express it verbally , but rather show her love through small gestures.

Whether it is finding a rare book she thinks you would like, or creating a sweet gift out of scavenged materials

quiet moments ;

I feel like Ellie would definitely cherish quiet moments with you !

even if it’s just watching the sunset on a rooftop, sitting by a crackling fire , or even just sharing your stories with dreams. She’d do anything if meant being with you

trust and vulnerability ;

Ellie values honesty and openness, especially in a relationship

Over time , she eventually learns how to open up about her past , sharing her fears and insecurities with you. And you do the same

cute little things you both do ;

she definitely has a knack for finding old cd, and she LOVES sharing her findings with you. You both would most definitely dance together in an abandoned room

you guys absolutely loveeee learning together!! You both will often spend nights / evenings together reading old books or practicing new skills ; such as playing guitar or practicing a new language

lowkeyyyy hc her as little spoon 😬

You guys grow together !!! Your bond strengthens with every obstacle you overcome , which eventually leads to the both of you becoming each others rock. Finding both strength and solace in your love for one another ❤️

Ellie definitely teaches you some combat and survival skills, and she enjoys teaching you some of her tricks. You both might spend an afternoon practicing shooting or stealth tactics, while also bonding over your shared skill set

she definitely makes you roasted coffee in the morning !

wakes you up with sweet little kisses ❤️

will definitely surprise you with romantic candlelit dinners , using whatever ingredients she has to create a special mean amidst their harsh world

supporting eachother ;

since you both have had your fair share of trauma , you both obviously support eachother through your struggles

Ellie listens, comforts, and encourages you and you do the same for her! Knowing you both can rely on eachother no matter what

conflict resolution ;

Ellie is stubborn and can be hot-headed at times. During arguments , you normally help her see different perspectives while also being patient and understand

I feel like sometimes she’d apologize first but not always

anywho! that’s it for today folks. sooo happy to start writing for tlou! tysm for reading

#wlw #wlw imagine #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #abby tlou #the last of us #my hcs

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laurenairay · 6 months ago

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live like you'll never stop - C. Kreider

Summary: Dancing in the rain with Chris Kreider? How could you say no to that?

Words: 866 words

Warnings: fluff

A/N: Happy birthday @tippedbykreider! I wanted to write you a sweet little something, a slice of domestic life, to celebrate so I really hope you enjoy this Jade 🥰

Title from dancing in the rain, by Ruth Lorenzo.

There was just something so peaceful about watching the rain down. A light drizzle, a steady pour, or hammering down, it really didn’t matter. However the rain came down, you always made the time to watch it for a little while, letting it wash away all the stresses of the day, soothing you and settling any tension you had. Rainy nights were the ultimate comfort, allowing you the pleasure to curl up on the sofa with a blanket and a good book. Or even just to stand in front of the large bay windows in your bedroom and let the world fade away. It was magical, almost, even more so when you had someone to share it with.

“Dance with me.”

The low rumble of your fiancé’s voice broke you out of your reverie, and you turned your gaze away from watching the pouring rain through the window to look at him.

“Dance with you? What’s brought this on Chris?”

Chris just smiled, extending his hand out to you silently until you took the offer. You couldn’t help the soft laughter that tumbled from your lips as he gently tugged you towards him, bumping against his torso with a fond roll of your eyes.

“Isn’t it one of your bucket list items? To dance in the rain?” he mused, looking down at you with a warm smile.

Your lips parted slightly in shock and you nodded silently. He remembered that? You’d only said it in passing once, maybe twice, nothing that would’ve stuck in anyone’s mind. Except from your fiancé’s mind, apparently. Whatever was showing on your face made him laugh, the rumble of it echoing through his chest and into yours.

“I remember everything you say, sweetheart, especially the little things,” Chris explained, shrugging slightly, “if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.”

This man. Not for the first time, you wondered how you got so lucky. Never before had you been in a relationship with such a romantic thoughtful man, and it was times like this that made you treasure him more and more each day.

“I love you, Christopher. So much,” you murmured, chest filling with all the emotion that you couldn’t quite find all the words for in this moment.

“And I love you,” he said softly, voice full of warmth, “So…dance with me?”

His sweet smile paired with the hopeful look in his eyes gave you all the decision you needed.

“I’d love to,” you nodded, smiling hopelessly back up at him.

The way the grin spread across his lips made you shiver – and you weren’t even out in the rain yet.

“Let’s go then,” Chris said cheerfully.

“Right now?”

“Why waste the moment?” he laughed.

How could you say no to that?

Chris lifted your clasped hand to his lips, giving your knuckles a soft kiss, before entwining your hands properly. The gentle care made your blood sing, and you followed him down the stairs from your bedroom without hesitation.

He let go of your hand to open the doors to your backyard with a flourish, the earthy smell of the rain filling your senses instantly. Perfect. You looked up at him to see him already watching you a fond smile, making your cheeks flare with heat at being caught savouring the scent. Chris just winked, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a moment, confusing you until a slow sultry song started playing softly from the nearby speakers.

This man.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” Chris asked softly, placing his phone down on a nearby table.

“It’s wonderful. I didn’t…I never expected…”

You trailed off, not sure how to even voice how overwhelmed you were, but he just smiled warmly and took both your hands in his.

“Dance with me?”

You just nodded, squeezing his hands, letting him guide you out into the backyard and out into the rain. It instantly soaked through your clothes, chilling your skin, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little incredulously. Chris just grinned, letting go of one of your hands to rest it on your waist, your hand moving to rest lightly on his chest.

Chris hummed softly as he started to sway the two of you from side to side, and it was all you could do to embrace the situation.

You found yourself closing your eyes, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over your face as Chris continued to sway the two of you from side to side in this sweet little dance. It was almost overwhelming how magical this moment felt, the rest of the world cut off from the bubble that the two of you were in. This was something you would never forget, being right here with him right now, and it was something that you wished would never end.

“Is this everything you dreamed of?”

You opened your eyes to look back at him again. Rain trickled down his cheeks, soaking through his curls, making his t-shirt cling to his chest, and all he was doing was watching you with a look that could only be described as devotion.

This man. This beautiful, wonderful man.

“Chris? Baby? It’s everything, and it’s more.”

#my writing #happy birthday jade!#chris kreider fic #chris kreider x reader #chris kreider fanfic #chris kreider imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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whateverisbeautiful · 1 year ago

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#14: Soon As I Get It, You Will (S6E10)

This moment will always have an extra special place in my heart. 😍 It’s when I so clearly in real-time saw that Rick and Michonne were going to perfectly transition to a romantic couple because they’d been in love a long time. I said TWD's opening minutes really used to bless us with some great Richonne content throughout the series, and this one from 6.10, their classic canon ep, is atop the list. This scene paints a clear picture that Rick and Michonne weren't just about to become a couple at the end of the episode - they were going to embrace that they already were one...

I adore domestic Richonne scenes and in this scene, they were just so comfortable and happy living what felt like such a normal morning in their home with their kids. 🥰 Moments like this are what I most want for Rick and Michonne and their children. It's the good, happy, peaceful life they deserve.

The scene starts with Rick and his belt, which I gotta say always makes me think the writers were going for a bit of an innuendo lol. Then the shot makes it a point to show that Rick has taken his ring off. That’s definitely a big indicator that he’s now in a place to more fully and healthily move into a new chapter (and to signal to Michonne 'I'm ready when you are' perhaps lol).

Rick grabs the watch but leaves the ring, and that is such an intentional shot. It symbolizes that it’s time to move forward, in love especially, and Rick is finally ready in proper ways to do that.

And he knows who he’s meant to move forward with - Cuz then she shows right up to his door looking glowy and gorgeous in a robe. 🤗

I love that Michonne feels comfortable enough to approach his room in her robe and towel and ask if he has any toothpaste left and that Rick cutely teases her about using his toothpaste the last few weeks. They bring out such a playful flirty side of each other, and I love it.

Rick’s smile when he teases her and then Michonne's reaction...😊 I know that house felt like a sauna the last few weeks with all that steamy tension they’ve been trying to keep the lid on.

And I like that whatever happened in the last two weeks broke their ability to downplay their attraction - because the way Rick and Michonne are looking and reacting to each other in this scene...you know I gotta use my favorite word - the attraction is palpable.

I’ll also just always love that even when TF all moved into separate houses, Michonne stayed with her Grimes family. She’s one of them fr.

Michonne sounds like such a mom when she calls for Carl, and Carl sounds like her teenage son when he responds with a low-key attitudinal “What?” This is the first we’re hearing from Carl since getting his eye shot out and it tells you he’s definitely still that same feisty-when-he-wants-to-be kid. 😂

I love the moment when Rick says he can’t hear Carl and has him come on out. And the smile Rick gives Michonne and the way she amusedly looks at him and subtly rolls her eyes when they wait for Carl to come over. 🤭

And then, after Rick smiles at her, he has this extremely telling reaction like he’s trying to play off whatever he’s so clearly feeling about her before Carl comes and catches his whipped self.

But Rick ain’t ever been slick when it comes to how he feels about Michonne, and so even in that little squint that he does, it’s clear this man has caught all the feelings there is to catch lol. This is a man in love, I tell you. And he knows it now. 🤗

I adore their energy here and I repeat this is not how people who are just friends look at each other. This scene is just so fun too cuz there’s no speculation needed by this point - it is factual that Rick and Michonne are both more aware that they are attracted to and in love with this person in front of them. And it’s sweet to see them be all smiley about it in their final pre-canon scene.

Truly, the only thing they were waiting on at this point was knowing for sure the feelings they felt were mutual.

Carl gives another little attitudinal 'what?' to Rick and when Carl repeats what he said about Denise, Rick says it at the same time as him and it’s such a dad moment. Michonne laughs and I’m pretty positive Rick did this specifically knowing it would make her laugh cuz Carl is not that amused by it at all. 😂

Michonne again sounds like such a mom when she tells Carl it’s time to change his bandage and she needs toothpaste. I know Rick and Michonne have to be picking up on how much they so naturally feel like a perfect little four-person family right now. Like they were giving mom and dad and they were giving husband and wife...

And I love that there's always this refreshed good mood when Rick and Michonne get to just live everyday life together with their kids. 🥰

When Carl says he’s also out of toothpaste, Michonne looks over at Rick and shakes her head as they both smile, and you know Rick knew right then and there that he’s gonna find a way to get her that toothpaste today, no matter what.

And then y’all, it’s Michonne’s turn to have an extremely telling reaction because she then quietly watches as Rick picks Judith up. Again, this quiet lingering look was not a platonic look from our girl Michonne. And whatever she was thinking about Rick at this moment...

I was probably thinking it too. 🤭 It’s sweet seeing Michonne just quietly take this moment in, knowing that she loves and respects this man, as a father, as a fighter, and as the love of her life.

It’s also heartwarming hearing Rick be so sweet with Judith and say, "come on, sweetheart." Girl Dad Rick is always great to see for us and Michonne - because Michonne’s smile observing this is just precious. That’s a good man and she knows it. And a hot man and she knows that too. 😊

It's great how Michonne doesn’t just sound like a mom in this scene, she also is such a wife, especially when she tells Rick to "be good out there." And Rick feels like such a husband saying, "yeah we’ll see."

And then you know I gotta take a moment to celebrate my favorite part of this scene - that low-five. 🙌🏽

It's so good, and I credit that low-five as the flashing light that fully let me know these two had a chemistry that was bound to turn romantic. Looking back, it's genuinely crazy it took me until their canon ep to open my eyes and know for certain that what I'd been watching all along between Rick and Michonne was a love story but hey...

And ever since that low five, I have learned from my mistake and fully boarded this ship without ever looking back.

I love that true to their magnetic ways, Rick extends his hand to her, and, y’all, somehow they manage to make a freaking low-five feel romantic and so much more than just casual.

This is how you know your ship is in (no pun intended) capable hands. Because the actors knew that the next time Rick and Michonne see each other in this ep they're going to go all the way, and so this scene in the opening minutes had to really tell you their current headspace and that they were right on the brink of expressing this long-time love more physically. And of course, Andy and Danai were able to communicate that in something as simple as a low-five. Best in the biz, I'm just saying. 👏🏽💯

This touch between them is important too because their previous few and far between touches had always been one touching the other - but in this moment it was both of them engaging, hinting how they’re both finally ready to express their love a different way.

And I love that as Rick so often does he accompanies the low-five with a thank you. Always so grateful for her. 😊 He can go out on these runs and trust that his kids are okay because they’re with their mom.

It just felt like such a married sendoff as he thanks her before going out for the day and she casually lets him know her favorite type of toothpaste. I love the way she tells him which toothpaste she likes best and that they're able to live a stable enough life for them to even have preferences now.

Rick says, "soon as I get it, you will" and, chile, he means that. 😋 I love that quick line and that he says this sounding like a husband yet again. He knows it’ll be a priority to get this toothpaste not just for the community but for her specifically because what Michonne wants, whether big or small, always matters to him.

And the line also just feels like a fitting sentiment to their relationship. As soon as he gets that this romance can be acted on, she will. So it’s a great line to land on in their final pre-canon moment together.

(and y'all can we just take a moment to observe the way they are looking at each other during this low-five...like the heat coming off of them is really something. it makes sense later that night would finally be 'the night' because i don't think they could resist for one more day lol ❤️‍🔥)

I also never noticed that the scene ends with Rick playfully tossing the ball at her. Can they get any cuter? 😭 What Rick and Michonne bring out of each other is just the best and I adore this bright and happy scene for showing this great and lived-in layer to them and their relationship.

Whether you’d been anticipating Richonne for seasons or were new to the ship, this scene made sure there was no denying that Rick and Michonne are family and not just as parents but truly as gorgeous and natural spouses. Married before they knew they were married, y’all, and this moment made it clear.

So I really appreciate this morning scene for showing that Rick and Michonne have built a life together not just as 'team family,' not just as co-leaders, but as a mom and dad and very very soon as an officially consummated husband and wife. And y'all...

We'll get there. 😉 But for now, staying focused on this absolutely delightful 14th moment on my list - I think about how Rick and Michonne always got to see the more normal and human side of each other ever since season 3. And in this 6.10 scene, you see them both not only witness that everyday side but really be attracted to that side too, in a way they can no longer hide.

So yeah, toothpaste and toothbrushes stayed giving us some great Richonne content. This 6.10 opener showed that the Richonne ship had been set sail - now it was just time to release the 'canon.' 🤗🪥

#richonne #top 30 #number 14 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #twd 6.10 #twd towl #the ones who live

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