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#+ he's expressing such open and loving feelings for his lady
infictionalwonderland · 19 hours
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Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)
(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)
“She’s here!”
The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.
You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.
You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.
(You were in love)
“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.
Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.
“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.
As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.
“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”
“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.
Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.
“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”
“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.
All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.
“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.
“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”
“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.
She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.
“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”
“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”
“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”
Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.
“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.
“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.
Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.
“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”
“I would like very much.”
You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.
“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”
“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.
Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.
She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.
“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.
“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.
“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“
“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.
He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.
The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.
Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.
“This—this is hardly—“
“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.
You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.
“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”
“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”
“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”
“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.
You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.
In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.
All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.
The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.
People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.
Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.
Eloise and You blinked.
“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.
The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.
When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.
“Besotted—?”
“Shut up!”
As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.
Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.
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rumisgf · 1 day
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KIRSHIMA BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS
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summary: kiri boyfriend hcs because he needs more love. also this has been in my drafts for too long but i finished it y’all, round of applause!
includes: fluff, female pronouns, black!reader cs duh, crack
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✧ and the best boyfriend award goes to
✧ before y’all even started dating he was always so sweet to you, opening doors for you whether it was at the food place or a car
✧ he has absolutely no shame making sure whenever he’s around, you never have to lift a finger
✧ he helps you up the stairs, buys you food whenever you’re hungry, even ties your shoes for you
✧ i mean he’s your boyfriend, it’s manly!!
✧ speaking of, one of the most attractive things about him is how good he is with kids
✧ if you have nieces/nephews or baby sibling/cousins they definitely adore him and it’s so sweet
✧ and when you get far enough into your relationship, he’s eager to express that he does wanna have kids one day
✧ if you let him pull out his list of baby names he will be so happy
✧ i think eijirou is one of the men very comfortable in his masculinity compared to all the other men he’s around
✧ not to say they aren’t, but he definitely has no issue doing things deemed as “feminine” in the slightest
✧ besides, manliness to him is about not always having to prove you’re manly. you’re simply just manly.
✧ kiri will let you do his makeup all the time and he’ll post pictures on his story after
✧ and he’ll love if you do things deemed as “masculine” with no shame
✧ no matter how it sounds out loud, he’ll be like “my gf is so manly i love her”
✧ yes, you wanted to pop him the first time you heard him saying but it’s truly just how he talks he can’t help it😭😭
✧ (one time he called mina manly as a compliment and she smacked him dead in his face, though, so he doesn’t say it often)
“wow babe, you’re so manly!”
“thank you eij— wait.”
✧ even though he’s willing to do it in a heartbeat for you, kirishima has a hard time letting you buy him things
✧ it’s one traditional standard he can’t seem to shake and even then he just feels bad for some reason
✧ but weirdly, he still likes when you ask even if he’s just gonna say no😭
✧ it makes him feel bubbly that you still wanna spoil him too and maybe he’ll let you a few times
✧ one thing kirishima loves is helping you do your hair
✧ he already dyes his hair himself so i feel like he’ll be very knowledgeable about hair care
✧ and he’d do his own research for you
✧ mans learned how to part hair, he oils your scalp for you, even washes your hair for you, and he learned how to braid
✧ in return he loves when you help him dye his hair whenever his roots grow in too dark
✧ this man can barely go to sleep without cuddling you it’s starting to concern his friends a lil
✧ it’s the one thing he looks forward to at night and he always hold you so tight
✧ which is completely fine because i feel like he’d also have warm skin
✧ he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to refer to you as his lady
✧ he definitely has clips floating the internet of him calling you that during interviews at hero galas
“oh, tonight i’m here with my lady!
“i’m sure she’s somewhere, she’s still a little camera shy.”
✧ if you’re the quiet type, he absolutely has no problem speaking up for you or just talking when you’re too nervous
✧ kirishima loves picking you up, you could be with friends and he’ll randomly just hoist you up into his arms
✧ when he works out, he begs you to do things like spot him or sit on his back while he does push ups
✧ or lay under him while he does them so he can give you kisses
✧ although one habit he does have is hugging up all on you while he’s still sweaty after he comes back from the gym
✧ i think he’d love a partner who does sports, so if the school has any college teams he’ll try to convince you to join even if you never did sports in high school
✧ he also thinks it would be fun for you and he always wants you to have fun
✧ in general, he loves being able to make you smile
✧ if you’re every having a bad day, he’s the best at giving advice or just comforting you
✧ and not to mention, gives top tier hugs
✧ when you start crying about anything he literally drops everything and runs to you
✧ to the point where even your friends will text him whenever you do and he’ll be there in an instant
✧ eijirou absolutely loves giving you flowers
✧ he’ll seriously find any excuse to show up wherever you are with a bouquet in hand ready to give to you
✧ valentine’s days? flowers
✧ birthday? flowers.
✧ passed an exam? flowers.
✧ having a bad day? flowers.
✧ having a good day? flowers.
✧ just because he felt like it? flowers
“awww this is so sweet baby, but what’s the occasion?”
“don’t worry about it sweetheart, just post with ‘em so i can take pictures of your pretty self.”
✧ in conclusion, he’s the man of your dreams
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@ rumisgf
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nikethestatue · 23 hours
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A Ballad of Sorrow and Love
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End of Elriel Month 2024 and end of the story.
TW: death, I guess.
Part III
Lovely Fawn
Despite Rhysand’s not so subtle objections, Azriel decided to attend the reception with the Vallahan dignitaries. Elain didn’t protest either, so he concluded that it would be appropriate for him to make an appearance. Not that he necessarily wanted to, however, he was the Prince of Hewn City, and his title obligated him to do things which he didn’t always enjoy–like attending boring parties. At least in Hewn City, he could fuck Elain in front of the Court, if he so desired. She wouldn’t say no, and it certainly made receptions a lot more interesting and enjoyable. No such pleasure in Night Court. 
Today, Elain dressed in a black dress that was little more than gossamer, which wrapped around her voluptuous body like second skin. It glittered with sequins and strategically placed black flowers, which covered her breasts and her bottom. A smattering of extra sparkles was all that concealed her front. A long train slithered on the floor with every step that she took. Elain liked pearls–a stone of mourning and innocence, of fertility and purity, of perfection and romance–and wrapped many strands around her neck and her wrists. 
“A crown for my Princess,” Azriel announced, opening up a heavy wooden box.
Elain smiled and peered inside. It was the Black Peregrine Crown tonight then. One of her favourites. A heavy, imposing crown made of black and white diamonds, studded with black and white pearls, tourmalines and opals. Azriel lifted the crown from its velvet nest and then gently placed it on Elain’s golden head. 
“Perfect,” he whispered when she straightened and he could observe her in all her glory. “You are so fucking beautiful, Elain. So beautiful.”
They stepped out on the terrace and Azriel opened his arms, allowing Elain to slip into his embrace. He lifted her easily off the ground and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he spread his wings and shot up into the air. She threw a shield over them, so that the wind didn’t mess up her hair and once they crossed the enchanted barrier that surrounded the palace, the weather became less than pleasant, with heavy rain pelting the ground and bouncing off the air shield. “Thanks, smart girl!” Azriel chuckled, grateful for the shield and then kissed her.
Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court sat in his chair, which wasn’t quite a throne, but also wasn’t just a simple chair. It was long, made for two, for him and for Feyre, his High Lady, to sit beside him. He didn’t feel the need to greet his guests on a throne–this wasn’t going to be a show of power and his High Lord’s might. The relationship between his Court and Vallahan was friendly enough. Although now, after what Azriel had uncovered about Eris and Lucien, Rhysand didn’t know who to trust. And whether he could ever let his guard down the way he did with the Vanserra brothers. This thing pressed on him and he wasn’t at his best. Feyre flitted around the reception room, greeting and welcoming the guests, and even Nesta helped out, doing a passable impression of being interested. 
“Are you alright?” Feyre whispered, when she finally extricated herself for a moment and approached him. She looked lovely, dressed in a pale pearl gown with a halter top, which was tied in the back into a large bow and then flowed into a fluttering train of silk.
“All good, Feyre darling,” he smiled at her and kissed her hand. 
Then, his eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. Seeing the change in his expression, Feyre turned her head and before she could say anything, Rhys hissed, “what is he doing here? I requested that he not come!”
Her arms crossed on her chest, Nesta Archeron, stately and cool, stepped behind him and said, “He has just as much right to be here as you do. You are a High Lord of your Court and he is a Prince of his.”
“This is my Court,” Rhys cut her off, “and my request.”
Nesta shrugged in her usual nonchalant way, not giving him any leeway.
“She is right, you know,” Feyre agreed, eyeing her mate with displeasure.
“Don’t gang up on me,” he ordered. “Because you both know that I am right. He makes things uncomfortable. He is barely lucid as it is…”
“Lucid enough to have uncovered a massive conspiracy that spans the continent,” Nesta noted meaningfully.
Rhys shook his head and insisted, “these types of events are inadvisable for him.”
“Elain is with him,” Nesta said calmly. “She will keep him in line.”
“Az!” she then called, waving her arm at him. “How are you? It’s nice to see you. We weren’t sure you’d come tonight.”
She walked to him and then embraced him, before saying, “good evening Ellie-girl!”
Feyre joined them soon after and greeted Azriel with a wide smile.
“Are you treating my sister well?” she joked.
Azriel pulled Elain to his side and draped his arm over her shoulders, before pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Always,” he said. Elain nodded.
“What are you wearing today?” Feyre whispered and then said, “The Black Peregrine!”
Azriel’s eyes wandered to his High Lord and he saw that Rhys was scowling in his direction–not that it was a very unusual reaction. The brothers didn’t see eye to eye most of the time. 
Rhys would’ve wanted to pull the Court of Nightmares back under his control, but the divine Power wouldn’t allow him too, refusing to budge away from Azriel.
“Uncle Az!” He heard a lovely familiar voice and turned around, smiling. 
His beautiful niece Elena hurried toward him, a pretty pink gown with black flowers accentuating her incredible loveliness. It always amused him how Cassian’s and Nesta’s daughter looked so much like Elain. Same golden brown curls, same big dark round eyes, same shy smile. 
“My pretty girl, I am so happy to see you here tonight!” he exclaimed, taking her into his arms and embracing her tightly. 
“Uncle Rhys wanted me to be here,” she explained, “though he told me that you wouldn’t be coming,” she frowned at that.
Azriel shrugged, “He never wants me to come,”
“Ahhh,” she sighed sadly. “I so wish you’d patch things up with him! He is not being very fair to you.”
“It’s been like that for years,” Azriel said, “I suppose I am used to it by now,”
She stomped her little foot and said, “Well, it isn’t fair! And you shouldn’t accept it.”
He smiled at her, again, reminded of Elain –even that little pout was all Elain. 
He flicked the top of her arched ear and said, “You look like your aunt!”
“Pfff, everyone says that!” then she glanced at the clock and said, “oh, I have to run, Uncle,”
“Where are you going?”
She rolled her eyes, “Nyx and myself and Kira and Zoya (Nesta and Cassain’s other daughters) are expected to go and entertain the ambassadors’ children. At least they are our age!”
Azriel smiled and kissed her forehead. “You better join us for dinner then.”
“We will!” she blew him a kiss and hurried away.
Before the ambassadors entered the reception hall, Rhys released a bit of his power, so it thrummed in the air, filling the space and making all who were present pay attention. Feyre took her seat at his side. Then it was Azriel, who held the highest rank behind the High Lord and Lady. He sat in a chair, with Elain beside him, and wrapped his arm around her. He was glad of it too, because he was too fucking old to be standing around, greeting ambassadors and emissaries. That was a job for the kids like Elena and Nyx. They had the energy. And Cassian too, apparently, because he stood behind Nesta’s seat, legs apart, hand on his sword. Hopefully, there wasn’t going to be a need for all that tonight.
The six ambassadors and their entourage arrived soon after and Rhysand rose from his chair in a gesture of good will, greeting them.
“Welcome,” he said, his voice loud and melodious, created to put visitors at ease. 
The males and two females bowed, and Rhys began the introductions.
“My mate, the High Lady of Night Court, Feyre Archeron.”
Feyre smiled and inclined her head at the guests.
Rhys continued, bypassing Azriel, though he was supposed to have been next,
“General Nesta Archeron, Cauldron Made, leader of the Valkyrie armies.”
Nesta greeted them politely, her back straight, her face placid.
“Cassian, Commander General of the Night Court.”
Then he paused, and everyone’s gazes inevitably fell on Azriel.
“His Highness, Prince Azriel of Hewn City,” Rhys finally said with a sigh. “Commanding General of the Darkbringers, Lord of the Court of Nightmares.”
Azriel glared at Rhysand and while the others bowed and curtsied, he barked loudly,
“AND?”
At that, Feyre got up and walked to him, saying calmly,
“And Lady Elain Archeron of the Court of Nightmares, Princess of Hewn City, Cauldron Made.”
Everything stopped, the very air silent and tense.
The ambassadors stared at the High Lady, then at Azriel. And then at Nesta, who stood up and walked over as well, saying loudly ‘my sister’.
-
Only there was no one next to Prince Azriel.
He sat alone in his chair.
Because, as everyone knew, Princess Elain had died in childbirth 184 years ago.
-
His mind had fractured that day. 
They didn’t know that Elain was carrying twins until it was too late. The girl, who was small, hid behind the boy for too long in their mother’s womb. Their heartbeats beat in unison, and even the most experienced healers didn’t notice a second baby. A wingless baby. A baby who survived, while her mother and brother died. A baby who was picked up by her uncle Cassian, while his wife and mate Nesta was mute and dumb from grief and his brother Azriel flew out of the birthing room, only to return forever changed. Cassian took the baby with him and named her Elena.
Whether Azriel knew that Elain was dead and had been dead for almost two centuries, Feyre did not know. He never indicated that he was aware. He never called Elain a ‘ghost’ or made it known that he knew that she was dead, but it was easier to pretend like she was alive.
No.
The three of them–Feyre, Rhys and Cassian–were quite sure that Azriel had lost his mind that day and consequently, Elain’s death simply never registered with him. When he’d returned from his flight that day, he seemed the same as he always was. No shadows whispering in his ears, no sadness in his eyes. He did seem to be conscious of the fact that the children weren’t born, but he and ‘Ellie’ sat down with Temal, his adopted son, and explained it to him. Temal wasn’t exactly a child by then, but a grown man and he understood that something had happened to his father when Elain had died. Ever since then, Temal has played along. Almost two hundred years later, it became…normal to him. That his father and the illusion of his mother lived together and ruled together. It somehow became ‘normal’ to all of them, except for Rhys. But Feyre and Cassian, and especially Nesta protected Azriel from Rhys.
Nesta wasn’t entirely lucid either. Feyre was sure that Nesta knew that Elain was dead, but she’d come to believe that Elain was always next to them–just like Azriel claimed.
Whether it was a hallucination or an illusion that Azriel’s traumatised mind had conjured, Feyre couldn’t know. But Azriel had lived with this version of Elain ever since that day, and never looked unhappy. He was never confused. He was never doubtful. The only time he displayed any agitation is when Rhys ‘forgot’ about Elain and acted like she wasn’t at Azriel’s side. In his mind, Azriel convinced himself that it was because Rhys didn’t want Elain to marry him, and therefore ignored her because of that. Otherwise, Azriel went about his life married to Elain. 
In fact, Feyre believed that perhaps, Azriel and his Elain, were the happiest couple among all of them. 
Nesta and Azriel talked to ‘Elain’, laughed with her, walked with her, and in Azriel’s case, lived with her. He lived with her as a man would with his wife–sleeping and eating with her, bathing and cooking, dancing and drinking, making love with her and going on missions together. He did everything with Elain. He was Elain’s husband for eternity, just like he promised her at their wedding. And she was with him, walking hand in hand, living into the promise that she’d made to him.
From what Feyre could gather, the only difference between how Nesta was with their sister, and how it was different from Azriel, was that Nesta couldn’t see Elain. But she always insisted that Elain spoke to her, and as unnerving as it was to hear, Feyre got used to Nesta saying ‘Elain told me…” or “Elain and I were talking and she said…” or “El and I were laughing the other day…” Nesta confided to Elain, cried to her, argued with her, got angry with her. She ‘invited’ Elain to her training, and even discussed military plans with her. Apparently Elain ‘played’ with Nesta’s girls, sang to them, and knew that Nesta was raising Elena. 
At least Nesta seemed to have been aware that Elena was not her daughter, but Elain’s. Though they’d all agreed that it would be best for Azriel not to know about Elena and to preserve his fragile mind, they always treated Elena as Nesta and Cassian’s daughter and Azriel’s niece. It was, therefore, especially amusing, but also heartbreaking that Azriel and the girl were so close and that he loved her far more than any other of his nieces and nephews. 
When Elain had passed on, they did not know what to do with the body. The little boy was lovely as well, handsome and strong–his father’s son. They could not very well bury her without Azriel’s consent. They certainly couldn’t cremate her either. The mere mention of Elain’s death had Nesta’s eyes glowing with silver flames, and when she unequivocally announced that Elain was not dead, they dared not argue with her.
So Elain and her son were laid in a glass coffin, both perfect and unblemished even in death, sealed within it, Elain’s immense power still seeping out of her and then brought to rest under the Prison. Beneath the roots of the mountain. Under Dusk Court.
“Princess Elain is happy to meet you,” Azriel said simply to the ambassadors.
Sometimes, Elain didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t pressure her.
Sometimes, she talked a lot and he loved listening to her. But there were days when she preferred to be quiet and it didn’t bother him at all. The two of them always understood each other perfectly well, even in silence. Before they became lovers, before they were married, Elain could always read him and his moods, she always knew what he was thinking and was aware of his reasons for his actions. Words were always somewhat superfluous to them. 
Their Court knew that the Princess sometimes communicated through him, and they’d come to accept that. But Elain was usually especially quiet around Rhys. It was as if she knew that he didn’t approve of her and did not like her.
The Court. The Court of Nightmares had a mad ruler, who ruled them alongside his dead wife. A ruler who was fully convinced that she sat on the throne with him, that she attended balls with him, that she weighed on topics and disagreements that arose during open sessions, that she opined on judicial decisions. But because he was a good ruler despite his madness, the Court…accepted it. So what if the Princess wasn’t there in the flesh. Perhaps, she truly spoke through him and who were they to question whether their Prince actually saw her and communicated with her if she were alive. 
“No sweetness, he is not angry that you came,” Azriel assured her, peering angrily at Rhysand. “Rhys is just stressed. Soon we’ll go to dinner and then I will dance with you.”
Elain smiled at him. And then she found her voice and asked, “you promise?”
“I promise. You are my princess. And I am your prince. And soon, we’ll go back to our dark kingdom and we’ll be home, amongst our people.”
“You promise?” she repeated.
“I do. I promise.”
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
-
Epilogue
Seventeen years later
It took years to find him, but at last, he did.
Azriel looked down at the male cowering in the pews of the temple.
It was an oddly cathartic moment, he couldn’t deny it. 
Azriel and Lucien, forever locked in a silent battle, all because the Cauldron gave Elain to the wrong man. A lifetime of animosity, and the desire to correct a divine mistake. 
“Azriel,” Lucien straightened and looked at his nemesis with his one eye. 
“Lucien,” Azriel offered a curt nod.
“How did you find me?”
Azriel smirked.
“Well, if not me, then who?”
“I guess that’s true.”
Sighing heavily, Lucien looked down at the stone floor and wondered,
“So, now what? You finally get to kill me. And you’ll bring the traitor’s head to Rhysand as a trophy?”
Azriel seemed to consider it, cocking his head to the side. 
Could he? Should he?
“You deserve it,” he told Lucien simply.
“Perhaps. But I didn’t do it just for myself. I did it for the Fae kind as well.”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
Lucien unsheathed his sword and asked coldly, “so, what happens now? How do you want to do this?”
Azriel turned his head and seemed to listen to something.
Lucien was well aware of the male’s madness–knew that Azriel thought that Elain was standing beside him that very moment, speaking to him.
“Elain says ‘hello’,” Azriel said.
It cost him nothing, and Lucien answered, “Hello Elain.”
Azriel stiffened and glanced at the other male with mild surprise. Like he wasn’t expecting Lucien to greet Elain.
After a long pause, Azriel scrubbed his chin and muttered, “she says not to kill you”.
Lucien almost dropped his sword, glaring at the Prince, mistrust in his eye.
“Stop fucking around, Shadowsinger. If you are here to kill me, then just do it.”
Azriel smiled at his old title. Shadowsinger. Yes, that power remained with him, but also disappeared some time ago. It was odd to hear the title spoken out loud.
“She asks for you to kill me,” he stated simply. “But only on this specific spot.”
“What are you on about?” Lucien groaned. “I am not killing you! If we fight, then we fight like real Fae!”
“I don’t need to fight like real Fae,” Azriel snapped. “I’ve fought for something for almost 800 years and what did it give me? Nothing. What I want is a life that was taken from me. What I want, is to live a life with my fucking wife. What I want is to escape this world, the judgement in everyone’s eyes, and to no longer be called a ‘madman’. I want to live a life with Elain Archeron. I want to be with her. I want…” he stopped, his voice trailing off. Then he raised his eyes and looked at Lucien, almost pleading with him, “I want release, Lucien. That’s what I want. I want to be with Elain. In this world. In another. I don’t care. I just want that…I just want to feel…Feel what I felt with her and have it be real.”
Lucien listened, unsure if Azriel was being truthful, but also saw the desperation in the male’s eyes. Was Azriel, in fact, not as mad as he let everyone believe?
Or was this just a moment of rare mental clarity?
“So I am to kill you?” he then confirmed.
“That’s what Elain says,” Azriel nodded. 
“And then what?”
“And then you go on your merry way, scheming or doing whatever it is that you do.”
“And Rhysand?”
“I am a burden, not a cause celebre to him,” Azriel shrugged indifferently. “And if it took me that long to find you, I think you are quite safe. He won’t find you.”
“What will happen when I kill you?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel confessed. “But Elain insists on it.”
“You do know that this is…” Lucien’s voice was quiet. “I am not used to murdering unarmed men…and you are my mate’s husband…”
“It’s all right,” Azriel shrugged. “I forgive you. Just do it already. Stop talking. I am at peace. My daughter will take over Hewn City. She is a marvellous, brilliant, smart woman–I know the Power will choose her.”
“You have a daughter?” Lucien exclaimed, absolutely puzzled by this new revelation.
“Yeah. I suspected that she was–for a long time–and I finally got proof a few years ago. And I am so proud of her. I’ve got two amazing children–Temal and my Elena. And my grandchildren. Believe me, I am at peace. I am content. And whatever is going to happen, is going to happen.”
He stepped aside and walked to a specific spot, stopping abruptly. 
“Elain says it has to be done here.”
“Why?”
“The Cauldron stood here for a while, in this specific spot. The Cauldron loves her and always helps her with odds and ends.”
“Killing you is helping her?” 
“I don’t know. We are about to find out. Also, do it cleanly, Vanserra. One through the heart. Got it?”
“I suppose.”
Azriel pulled Truth-Teller out of its sheath and clutched it in his hand. “Don’t want to lose it.”
Lucien approached him cautiously, still unsure of what was happening, but Azriel seemed at ease and determined.
“I guess I am coming home, treasure,” Azriel murmured.
-
Light flooded the space around him. Azriel stood in front of a door, in a place that was not familiar to him. He was still clutching his dagger in his hand. Gingerly, he pushed the door and it opened and he stepped inside. 
“Hi, love, are you home?” Elain called out from inside the house.
“I am,” Azriel murmured.
Suddenly, Elain, lovely as a morning sunrise, ducked her head from behind a wall and smiled at him.
“You are late,” she said.
“It took me a long time to find the way here.”
He looked around.
Nothing seemed familiar, and yet it was. It was a house filled with things that were unknown to him, and of a different origin. 
“Is this the Land of Milk and Honey?” he wondered.
“No. It’s Lunathion.”
This was…unexpected.
She came to him, looking just like he remembered her, only glowing with life and health. Her outfit was unusual and unfamiliar to him–a plain sleeveless shirt that was quite tight and a pair of short pants, which looked more like underwear than something one would wear outside. Her long braid hung carelessly over her shoulder. On her finger, she wore the ring that he’d given her when they married. The same simple silver band. 
“I’ve been waiting,” Elain said, putting his hand to her lips.
“What was the price?” he wondered, looking down at her and still unsure if this was another illusion, if this was death, or if this was real.
She worried her lower lip between her teeth and then admitted,
“There is no going back. This was the Cauldron's final gift. Its parting gift. We died, only to live again, but here. We’ll never see any of them again. Not our children, not our family. We can never jump through a Rift to go back. We died.”
He nodded.
A price he was willing to pay.
“Ready for a new chapter?” she said.
“With you?” he asked hopefully.
She reached for him and took his scarred hand in hers.
“With me. Forever.”
“Forever.”
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petalsscribbles · 18 hours
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16. unexpected turn of events
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Jay enters the bar, spotting his friend waving at him almost right away. He approaches the table with long strides and after a few polite bows to Yn's friends, he gently shakes his husband's shoulder.
"Jay... Where is he?" Yn mumbles before opening his eyes. "It's you." He says, lips curling into a smile.
"Yeah, it's me." He confirms and helps Yn on his feet. "Come on, let's go home. You've had enough alcohol for one day."
Yn nods and waves to his friends, hanging onto Jay with his other arm.
The ride home is peaceful, Yn just stares out of the window and hums a melody Jay doesn't recognize.
"Did you have fun today?" Jay asks, eyes on the road.
"Mhm. So much."
"I'm glad. Maybe next time don't drink so much."
"I'm not that drunk." Yn defends, words coming out a bit slurry.
"You were calling my name. You're positively wasted." Jay retorts as they pull up to the apartment complex's garage. Yn doesn't respond.
Once they're out of the car and the vehicle is locked, Jay leads his husband to the elevator and eventually through the hallway to their apartment. After drinking ungodly amount of water, brushing teeth and changing clothes, all with Jay's help, Yn is finally comfortably laying in their bed, curled up to Jay's side.
Jay kisses his forehead, wishes him a good night's sleep and closes his eyes. He can sense the matress dip as Yn moves and feels his lips press on Jay's moments later. Jay doesn't question it.
They're an affectionate couple. They've shared dozens of kisses - greeting pecks, loving and innocent ones, some passionate and desperate in heated moments, but none like this one.
It's slow, somewhat sensual but without purpose or a goal.
"What was that for, huh?" Jay asks jokingly, supporting himself on his elbow as they pull apart. Usually, Yn would respond in the same manner, teasing or light-hearted sarcasm. But not tonight. His expression is still, lips unmoving, eyes unreadable.
"I love you." He breathes and Jay's whole body tenses in response.
"Wha-what did you say?" Jay's voice is pathetically meek as he punches the question out of his chest with great difficulty.
"I love you." Yn repeats, clearly amd slowly.
"I love you." He says one more time, before exhaustion and the alcohol in his system take their toll and Yn blacks out, leaving a shocked Jay behind.
The man is frozen in his previous position, dealing with several emotions at once, trying his best to make sense of the situation and failing miserably. He comes to the conclusion that all he can do right now is pray that Yn doesn't forget.
A/n: guys I finally saw Dune part 2 and Lady Jessica still owns my entire existence. I would also gladly let Chani shove her blade into my neck but that's a story for another time.
taglist OPEN comment/ send ask to be added
@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @bleedingxheartt @zzzavid @thishastwentyletters @dkmyman @tarotarosung @darlingz99 @moonslie04 @lampcults
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23 notes · View notes
rosekasa · 1 month
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i miss chat noir kissing ladybug's cheek....
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mymelx · 3 months
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being Sukuna's favorite concubine and soon to be his only wife
Heian era, NSFW, no usage of Y/N
Sukuna would randomly and easily pick you up on his shoulders, carrying you around with his usual stern expression. He would gently put you on the bed, spreading your legs and tucking your kimono up to look at that pretty little pussy of yours. He opens the collar of your kimono to see how your soft, sensitive breasts bounce while fucking you.
He would be gentle in sex with you. He used to be rough and careless with his other concubines, but with you, his main concentration is hearing your little whines and whimpers.
Slowly but surely thrusting his fat cock in your little pussy hole, trying his best not to hurt you, and each time you let out a little innocent painful noise, he curses himself for causing you pain. He's extra careful but still, his cock is just too big for you and it's not easy for you to take it.
He would fuck you for so long, cumming in you and when he pulls out, he'll watch his seed oozing out of your little hole. It just doesn't stop. Then he would say "all my seed is wasted... I have to fill you again, little lady, hmm?" and push his cock in your already filled pussy again, thrusting slowly and kissing your temples and your jaw, caressing your hair and praising you between his groans:
"Such a small, adorable vulnerable woman. I need to protect you and our future children that I'm gonna put into you."
He would cuddle with you after sex and you can't escape from his four arms that are wrapped around you.
He gets hard every time he sees you. He's basically always hard for you. You're just so small and cute, caressing him and kissing his face and hair, giggling and showing him your clothes, dressing up for him, sitting on his lap, clinging on him, feeling safe and secure, telling him about the interesting stories that you read in the books.
He would caress and brush your hair. He loves seeing your free, long hair around you.
He most definitely would ban any verbal communication between you and the servants. They're not allowed to talk to you. Only the two maids you trust the most are allowed to talk to you. Not that much, though. Only receiving your orders and do what you ask them to do.
He would also probably ask you not to wear underwear under your kimono so that he can take you easily when he wants, without having to rip those pretty delicate panties of yours... he just worries about your panties that much!
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joelscurls · 7 months
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I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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missjadesfics · 2 months
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"Delicate Feelings"
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Feyd-Rautha x Reader gif credits: @dearaustinbutler @caribbean1989 dividers: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry Request: Yes Summary: The reader is to wed Feyd-Rautha; intentionally, she is frightened, but once she begins to share his life on Geidi Prime and come into her own, Feyd begins to fall in love with her. When another man makes a move on her one day. Feyd makes sure he reminds her who Y/n belongs to. Everyone should know better; Feyd-Rautha doesn't share. Warnings: smut 18+MDNI, praise kink, public affection, teasing, slight possessive nature, feyd doesn't like sharing, oral (f receiving, hint m receiving), Feyd expressing feelings, the reader sees a softer side of her na-baron. Word Count: 3,2k Disclaimer: I do not own Dune or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx
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Y/n felt frightened; all her life, she had been raised to prepare herself to honour and stand by her husband. Her mother and father had told her she would marry the most feared man in the Imperium. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Y/n had heard about him, his psychotic nature, his brutal killing methods and his concubines. Y/n hated the word concubines; it put a bad taste in her mouth. She heard he fed them human organs; they were cannibals. Y/n felt the ship landing as she felt the vibration flow through her body; closing her eyes, she whispered affirmations to herself. “Everything will be okay. You will be okay. You have been prepared for this your whole life. Everything will be okay.” Standing up as she smoothed her dress while walking down the ship’s ramp, she began to cough lightly; the air was different in Geidi Prime than in her homeworld. A maid came behind her “Lady Y/n; you will get used to it eventually.” She spoke gently. Y/n nodded, letting out a shaky breath and walking inside the overbearing fortress of House Harkonnen. Feeling overwhelmed by the vast stone-cold halls decorated in black and dark jade, the sounds of Y/n’s heels echo through. Coming face to face with large double doors, Y/n took one deep breath as they opened; exhaling slowly, Y/n walked through her maids behind her. She could see the Baron, the obese man, sitting in his hovering chair attached to tubes to aid his health. Swallowing nervously, Y/n’s emerald eyes drifted over to a young man whose back was to her. The Baron let out a heavy sigh as he smoked his pipe. “My dear nephew, your bride has arrived,” he chuckled deeply as the young man looked over his shoulder before turning his body and ultimately facing Y/n. Her lips parted, her eyes locked with his, a slight smile playing on his lips while he walked towards her. Raising his hand to tap her cheek with his pointer finger, “Hmm”, he hummed, his blue eyes dancing over her figure; his tongue swiped his bottom lip. “Welcome to Geidi Prime, my Na-Baroness” His chilling voice sent shivers through her body. She gasped through her dry lips as her eyes stared into his; he smirked, leaning in. “Don’t worry, wife, you have nothing to fear”, he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. His words may have been comforting, but his tone made her feel different; this is where her training would come to light.
That was two weeks ago; Feyd had kept his distance from Y/n. They consummated marriage on their wedding night, but after that, he was busy training for his birthday celebration in the gladiator arena. The Baron hosts a grand celebration every birthday in honour of his favourite nephew. This would be Y/n’s first time observing her husband as the brutal fighter she had heard so much about; Lady Margot Fenring was also in attendance, and she sat beside Y/n. The woman was a stranger, but she still comforted the young girl. “I know you; you are Lady Margot; Count Fenring is your lord husband.” Margot raised a brow and smiled with a slight bow on her head. “Yes, I was sent to watch and observe you and your husband. After all, the Bene Gesserit wants to watch you closely; you’re special.” She looked through her small binoculars, her eyes darting around the arena. “Have you ever watched his fight before?” 
Y/n asked Margot, who shook her head in response. “No, but that’s what makes this exciting”, she whispered as the horns signalled the beginning of the fight. Y/n looked down anxiously as she felt nerves build, not for the other fighters but for her husband. A deep voice rumbled through the triangular arena; Margot translated for Y/n, “Today, the Baron celebrates his nephew, the Feyd-Rautha, on his birthday. May the games begin” Y/n looked down, seeing Feyd emerge from the crowd; the loud sound of cheers and clapping disoriented Y/n slightly. Feyd raised his knife, bowing towards the corner where the Baron sat high above; as Feyd straightened, he looked around, taking in the admiration. His figure stopped seeing Y/n in her viewing platform. He grinned as he fell to his knee, his arms spread, his knives glistening from the black sun. 
“I DEDICATE MY VICTORY….” He raised his knife towards Y/n. “TO MY WIFE, THE FUTURE BARONESS!” He roared to the crowd, erupted in pride at their leader’s words. Y/n once felt a smile when she heard Feyd’s words, sitting back as he readied himself for his fight. Margot looked over. “I can sense some affection. Am I wrong?” The Bene Gesserit asked Y/n softly, who laughed lightly. “It’s the first time I’ve smiled in a long time; before we were married, I couldn’t smile; I was too scared. And I was too afraid to smile here; I did not want to disrupt or upset my husband,” she spoke gently. Margot nodded lightly in response, watching Feyd. “I think your lord husband has grown a soft spot for you, Lady Harkonnen.” 
The woman smirked as Y/n watched Feyd fight his opponents effortlessly. The crowd cheered, chanting Feyd’s name; as Feyd left the arena, Y/n stood up and walked out of the platform and back to her shared chambers with Feyd. Standing on the balcony, she looked up at the fireworks with a smile. Her eyes closed, and she listened to the sounds of the cracks and sparks in the atmosphere. “Were you impressed, wife?” She heard her husband’s voice behind her and turned to face him. “I was husband. I had heard tales of your fighting and was honoured to witness such power in the arena today.” She bowed her head lightly. Feyd smirked, looking her up and down; he walked up to her and spun her around. His arms were around her waist. “My uncle always throws elaborate birthday celebrations for me. I used to love them, now not so much,” He murmured gently as Y/n frowned. “I hope my presence sweetens your birthday this year.” She looked up at him, and he blinked his lashes softly, gazing down at his wife. A smile was on his face, and he hummed his fingers delicately, draping across her neck and down her chest. “It does, my wife.” 
Time passed as both Feyd and Y/n spent every day together; Feyd let her watch him train and fight, and she sat in the council meetings he would attend. He was named Na-Baron, which made her Na-Baroness; his uncle made him the heir of house Harkonnen and sent them to Arrakis to control spice production. Y/n had grown to love and accustomed to Geidi Prime, but she had heard stories of Arrakis’s beauty and was anxious to see it. Feyd had observed his wife over time, watching her share his life and become his wife and Baroness. He had never thought he would feel such things about anyone, let alone a woman, but he was. He was beginning to fall in love with his wife—the feared, ruthless Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha in love. Love is a dangerous emotion; he was always told it was poison; it affects the mind, disorients thoughts, and gets in the way of duties. Before he married Y/n, Feyd had rid himself of his concubines by killing them; he wanted no other ties; he would commit to his wife. He believed it was for duty and power, but now he realised it wasn’t for that; it was his love for his wife. He wanted no other woman. He just wanted her.
Arriving in Arrakis, the sun’s heat, the sting of the sand blowing with the harsh wind and the barren planet made Y/n rethink coming to Arrakis. Feyd looked over at his wife with a smile. He held her hand in his hand, and they both walked into Arakeen. The Na-Baron and Na-Baroness walked through the city observing the spice production as Feyd shouted orders and led his soldiers to attack the Fremen—something his brother could not do. Y/n wandered through the hall, looking at the different engravings on the walls, sandworms and Fremen riding them. She stood frozen, admiring the art, her hands behind her back. “My Lady”, a voice spoke up, breaking her gaze from the wall. “Oh, I’m sorry, this artwork entranced me, it’s beautiful”, she pointed to the wall the man stood beside her. “Ah, the sandworms, yes, the Fremen treat them with such respect can’t understand why”, his deep-toned voice full of disdain. Y/n decided to shake off his words. “Who are you? You don’t look like you’re from Arrakis?” She questioned curiously; the man chuckled, “No, I’m from Corrino. The Emperor sent me as a herald of the change. To watch over the spice production here” he bowed his head, and Y/n nodded lightly as she felt him step closer to her his hand on her arm. 
Y/n’s eyes gazed down, narrowing lightly. “Excuse me, I must leave” She pushed him back as he pursued her Y/n began walking away, her heart racing as she couldn’t remember where she had to go. Continuing to walk straight, she heard the man behind her pick up his pace. Grabbing her dress skirt, she sprinted down the hall; the man grabbed her from behind and pushed her against the wall. “Please”, she pleaded; the man smiled. “Don’t worry, my lady”, he whispered before leaning in. “If you value your life, take your hands off MY WIFE, YOUR NA-BARONESS”, Feyd’s cold tone spoke; the man’s eyes widened in fear; he glanced over, seeing Feyd’s sinister smile, his head titled. The man released Y/n, her breathing shaky. Feyd’s eyes watched intensely as he grabbed his knife; the man stuttered his apology, but Feyd laughed then snarled lowly. Steeping towards him one by one, the man shook before Feyd. 
“I am the only man who can touch her. No other is worthy of her attention, her presence, but me. I don’t share, and I don’t appreciate someone touching my wife” he swiped his knife along the man’s throat. Blood spilled as he choked, falling to the ground lifelessly. Feyd spun around and held his wife’s face in his hands. “My love, are you okay?” He breathed softly, his blue eyes searching hers. She nodded wordlessly, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you for saving me” she murmured. Feyd felt his heart skip a beat, a smile on his face.
Dinner in the grand hall was quiet; Y/n and Feyd were surrounded by the others who came with them from Geidi Prime. Feyd held his wife’s hand, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently. Y/n smiled at the affection from her husband. His smile made her heart flutter; leaning close, Feyd whispered, “Your dress is making every man in this room jealous. They all wish they were me. And they all wish they had you warming their bed every night”, he growled; his lips caressing her neck his teeth biting down on her skin lightly. Y/n felt her eyes close, her breath hitched, looking at all the men watching. “Feyd”, she whispered; her husband chuckled, his fingers trailing down her chest, down her body between her legs. “Let them watch; they need to remember who you are. Their Na-Baroness, my wife. My Baroness,” he breathed, his voice mesmerising Y/n gazed at her husband from the corner of her eyes. 
“Husband, I suddenly feel hot; perhaps I should retire to our chambers” She gave him a sultry glance; his eyes squinted, he licked his lips, his forehead pressed to hers, his eyes closed. “Whatever you wish, my wife. I will give you five minutes, then I’ll hunt you” He grinned, kissing her lips quickly. Y/n stood up, left the grand hall, and ran to their shared chambers. Feyd took one last drink of his wine and slammed the cup on the table. Five minutes had gone, and he grinned, clicking his tongue. “Ready or not, here I come, wife.”
Y/n hid behind a secret door in hers and Feyd’s chambers, hearing her husband’s footsteps approach the door. Opening loudly, Feyd closed them, locking them, and slowly turned around to scan the chambers. Licking his lips in anticipation, he smirked, his eyes darting around, looking for any signs of his wife. He saw she had left her heels and dress on the bed. Twirling around, he looked in the wardrobe. Nothing. He made his way out to the balcony, but nothing again. He narrowed his eyes, wondering where she was. Walking into the bathroom quietly, he saw she wasn’t there. Y/n thought she was safe to come out, so she slid out but froze when she heard Feyd’s voice. “Found you”, Y/n looked over her shoulder. “So you did”, she whispered. Feyd grinned, pressing her against the wall. Feyd leant in, kissing her jaw, trailing open-mouthed kisses along her neck. His lips found her pulse sucking gently. A gentle gasp left her open lips, her fingers gripping his clothes tightly. “Please, husband”, she murmured, her body arching off the wall, the heat of her body touching his, making him moan lowly. 
Grasping her body in his hands, he picked her up and threw her on the bed. Their lust-filled gazes focused on one another as Feyd fell to his knees; his hands slid up her legs and spread them apart. Y/n let out a sharp gasp, feeling his lips on her thigh, a sly grin on his face, hearing his wife’s cries of pleasure. Feyd made his way down, ripping her underwear, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Delving between kissing her clit softly, Y/n shivered; his tongue slowly lapped at her wet folds. His hands gripped her waist, her legs draped over his shoulders. Feyd flattened his tongue, licking a broad stroke from her entrance to her clit. Y/n whimpered, her hands fisting the silk sheets, her eyes tightly shut, her mouth agape, strings of gasps, Feyd’s name and moans filled the room. Looking down, she could see Feyd looking up at her, his eyes blown with desire. He pulled her closer, growling into her, his tongue strokes becoming more rapid. Y/n felt her arousal heighten as Feyd felt her hips begin to jolt. “Feyd, please, I’m-” she cried, her back arching. A loud moan left her mouth as Feyd groaned. His mouth savoured every drop. Pulling away, Feyd grinned, kissing her stomach; he slid up her body, kissing each part of her skin. Panting heavily, he kissed her roughly, his tongue sliding into her mouth, his hand cupping her cheek. Y/n pushed him back, her hand trailing down to his pants. “Let me-” she began, and Feyd shook his head. 
“No, as much as I would your mouth on my cock, maybe another time”, he grunted, rocking his hips into her hand as he sat up, removing his pants. Throwing them away, he climbed back on top of Y/n, kissing her fiercely. She pushed Feyd onto his back, straddling his waist. Feyd grinned, his black teeth glittering as Y/n lowered herself down on his cock; gasping at the feel of him inside her, she threw her head back. Feyd groaned, gripping her waist and thrusting up Y/n looked down at her Baron. Her hands laid on his chest for balance, riding him. Y/n is rarely on top, and when she is, Feyd loves it. He prefers to be in control but wouldn’t deny his wife what she wants. “Be as loud as you, my baroness; let all the men hear how well I fuck you. Let them hear your cries of pleasure, see your bruises from my touch. Give them a show” Feyd sat up, whispering hotly into her ear Y/n shuddered at his words, spreading her legs a little more to take in more of him. 
Looping her arms around his neck and kissing him, Feyd’s hips bucked wildly, both moaning into the kiss. Y/n cried out when Feyd growled, his cock, hitting her sweet spot harshly; his grin made Y/n’s clit throb as Feyd's thrusts became erratic. He snarled his teeth and bit Y/n’s lower lip. “I can feel your walls clenching, wife. Come for your Baron. Good girl, so good for me.” He purred, his voice sending her over the edge, her body shattering under the pressure of the aftershocks jolting her body as Feyd grunted before coming inside her, painting her walls with his seed. 
Both panting, Feyd smiled,d flipping them over, throwing one of her legs around his waist. He nudged his nose with hers. His hips began to move again Y/n writhed underneath him as Feyd kissed her throat,t his tongue licking up from her neck to her cheek. “I’ve been aching for you since our wedding night. I apologise for distancing myself; I didn’t want to hurt you,” He hissed, feeling her hand on his cheek Y/n smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t have minded, you know”, She breathed, her eyes glittering with tears brimming in the corners. Overwhelmed with pleasure, Feyd chuckled, “Is my wife sensitive? Look at you so fucked out on my cock. Your beginning to cry”, he teased her, kissing her tears away, licking afterwards, tasting the salt. His eyes darted down, grabbing her hand and placing it on her stomach. “Do you feel me, Y/n, how deep I am inside you” he purred, his hot breath fanning her face, her soft eyes following his gaze seeing the outline of his cock in her stomach. The familiar fire in her lower belly rose as she moaned. “Feyd, don’t stop, please”, she begged. Feyd pressed himself harder into her body, his hips moving faster, turning into a brutal pace. “This what you want? Hm,m,” he moaned. Y/n nodded her head, gasping sharply. 
Feyd pressed his thumb to her clit rubbing in small circles while he kissed her neck. Biting down, Feyd broke her delicate skin as he lapped at the coppery taste of her blood. It was sweet, just like her; his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Y/n sobbed, the building pleasure of her climax mixed with the pain of Feyd biting her neck. She screamed out Feyd’s name as she came around him. Feyd followed his hips, stuttering as he let out a roar in Y/n’s neck. Feyd slowly sat up and pulled out of Y/n, and she whined at the loss of him as they both lay side by side. Staring at the ceiling, both with blissed smiles on their faces. They both turned to face one another, their breathing uneven as they recovered from their lovemaking.
 “I love you, Y/n”, Feyd whispered with a beautiful smile. His blue eyes shined with love, and Y/n mirrored his expression. “I love you too, Feyd.”
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Tags: @cynic-spirit
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2K notes · View notes
forsworned · 3 months
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˗ˏˋcrazy cat lady ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗
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꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ something about simon and cats is just really pullin at my heart strings tn, for @chamomiletealeaf bc she wanted more :)
꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗
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"God, not again."
Simon groaned, as he caught her feeding the alley cats. That piqued Johnny's interest as he walked into the living room area where Simon was standing. He peeked over his shoulder and saw her open a can of tuna-salmon wet food and tipped it into the bowls that she "sneakily" set outside. The alley cats all surprisingly patient as they sat with tails tucked around their forms.
"Well 'll be damned, she's got 'em trained." Kyle's voice interjected, making Johnny jump a little but his grin grew as he folded his arms. Simon only shook his head.
"Ahh, how sweet." Price popped his head in and his gaze was tender as he laid his eyes on her. His once furrowed brows relaxed at the sight of her petting one of the cats heads' as it headbutted her palm and let her glide over its spine to the tip of its tail. Another rubbing itself against her thigh and a third prancing around her as it lightly brushed its black, bushy tail around her waist.
"Jus' admit it, L.t., 's cute." Johnny nudged Simon with a good natured grin. Simon leered at him for a moment before returning his attention to witness her gawking up at them doe-eyed and caught redhanded. Her lips curled into a charming, girlish grin that was enough to make any mans heart stop. She raised her hand to wave at them and they all chuckled, peering down at her with endearing expressions, well, minus Simon.
He felt his temple twitch as he attempted to glare at her, but even he wasn't impervious to her invisible shackles that she placed around his wrists years ago. His jaw ticked as he walked away from the window, leaving the guys behind to adore her coquettish behaviorisms, mumbling something about her being a 'crazy cat lady'.
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"C'mere, y'lil cunt."
He growled, at the skittish calico kitten that refused to come out from behind the rubbish bin. He was growing more impatient by the moment, cursing himself for not having more of a natural disney princess touch the way [name] did with animals, specifically felines. A sharp exhale leaves his nose as he palmed his face. It had been fifteen freakin' minutes since he had decided to walk out in the chilly February night air with a can of cat food to lure out one of the kitties that he had saw her feeding earlier. Frustrating was simply an understatement.
A girlish giggle was heard behind him and his body went rigid.
Bloody fuckin' hell.
"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" She mimicked his deep, gravelly Manchester accent. As atrocious as it was, he couldn't help but chuckle at her impersonation of him.
"Startin' to sound like a cunt, aren't I?" He retorted. It was a pleasant, lighthearted banter. She chuckled as she crouched beside his towering figure, and made a kissing noise while rubbing his fingers together at the calico and the kitty meowed in delight as she* trotted over to her and welcomed her pets.
*calicos are almost always female
"You gotta make yourself less menacing, Si. Crouch." It was a gentle command as she continued to lovingly stroke the cat. He sighed as he mimicked her position and glanced over at her to wait for her next instruction. "Go on."
She urged him to repeat her exact gestures. He surveyed the way the calico rubbed against her in envy. She could feel his green little monster eyes on her and it made her lips twitch into a smug smile. "Don't got all night, Si."
He narrowed his eyes at her before--reluctantly--repeating her kissing noises and rubbing motion with his fingers at the calico and she meows at him and quickly rushes over to his hand. Simon's eyes immediately softened at the contact. Warm, pure and loving. There was nothing like the little gesture of a kitten welcoming little pets on the forehead as they rubbed their fluffy cheeks against his fingers, down their spine to the tip of their tail. A relieved sigh emitted from his lips and [name] giggled.
He peered up at her for a moment before looking back down to see a black kitten had joined their little party around the opposite side of his leg, rubbing its pink nose against his thigh. Although it was remarkably menial, Simon's mask had arched upwards, indicating that he was indeed smiling. Another chuckle escaped from her as she relished in the rare sight. Simon petting alley cats he was always complaining about to the guys that [name] would bring around due to her sweet-natured behavior that wouldn't allow her heart to just let these animals to just be restive pests that ransacked their waste bins? Unheard of.
"They're just like you." She mused, as she continued to pet the calico. She laughed knowing that he was raising a curious brow at her, waiting for her to continue before she spoke up again. "Skittish as hell."
A short silence.
"Thinkin' they were more like you." He spoke up, still petting the black kitten. She turned to him waiting for a irascible remark, but he peered up at her with a tender gaze as he lifted his free hand to gently pinch her cheek. "Cute as hell."
Her eyes reamed at his words and his adoring touch. Her heart soared in her chest and she couldn't help the way her lips simpered and the way her cheeks warmed pleasantly. A syrupy sweet moment that she was already etching into her brain, and Kyle was capturing forever in his phone as Price and Johnny snickered, beholding the saccharine and cushy side of Simon that came out more and more around her.
"Send this to me." Johnny crowed, with a wolfish grin.
"Ditto." Price bit back his low chuckle but it slipped when he saw the way [name] leaned her head against Simon's shoulder and he didn't even take a beat before he carded his fingers though her hair.
"Fuckin' hell." Kyle's shoulder's were shaking as he muffled the pure joy running through his system. It was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
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igotanidea · 1 month
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Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
part 4: Stuck
A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3
Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)
***
He felt like a fool.
Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.
Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?
Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.
“Anthony!”
He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.
Not very gentlemanly of him.
“Anthony!”
He quickened his pace.
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.
Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.
“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.
“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.
“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.
“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “
“If you let me –"
“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "
"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered
"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”
“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”
“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”
“Mother!”
“Do not raise your voice on me son.”
“Apologies…”
“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”
Anthony mumbled something once more.
“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”
“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?
And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.
Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.
And he needed her back.
Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.
“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.
“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”
***
Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.
There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.
Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.
Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.
***
For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 
***
Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.
And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.
Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.
Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.
After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?
***
First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.
Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.
“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.
“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“
“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“
“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.
“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.
“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”
She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.
“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”
“Tha-thank you my lady…”
‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”
“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.
“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.
“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“
“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”
“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”
Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.
And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?
“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks
“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.
“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”
“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”
“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”
“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”
“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”
“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”
“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”
“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”
“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”
“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”
Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.
“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.
Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.
“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.
“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”
“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement
“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.
“He made a gesture!”
“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N?!”
“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”
“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”
***
Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.
No.
He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.
The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.
For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.
It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.
Too much.
Dear Lord.
Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.
Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.
It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.
He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.
And his family knew and accepted it.
She didn’t.
Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.
And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.
“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.
He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.
“I’m sorry my lord but-“
“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”
“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.
“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”
“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”
She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.
Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.
Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.
He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.
And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.
He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -
“Anthony.”
Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.
She came.
She truly came.
It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.
Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.
She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.
Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.
“Y/N….”
“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”
“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”
“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”
“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.
“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”
“In what aspect my lord?”
“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”
“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.
“Anthony I –“
“My love, I am sorry.”
“this is not—”
“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.
“Anthony-“
“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“
“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”
How he felt was not with words.
How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.
I love you.
By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.
I won’t ever let go of you.
By tender caress of her hair and back.
I will always cherish you.
By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.
I am sorry.
She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.
“My love. My beloved.”
She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.
“Am I too much now?” she whispered
“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”
This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?
“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.
“Thank God.”
“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”
“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.
(spoiler alert below)
I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3
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thehighladywrites · 5 months
Text
“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance
⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽‍♀️
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽‍♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗
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“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”
Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.
And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.
“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.
His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.
“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.
“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.
“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.
Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.
“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.
“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.
After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.
“What can I help you with today?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”
Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.
A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.
“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.
You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.
Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.
Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”
The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.
Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.
Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,
“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”
You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”
He raised his brow and you with amusement,
“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.
You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.
“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”
He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.
“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.
“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”
He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.
Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.
Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.
“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”
Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.
His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.
“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”
Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.
“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”
Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”
“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.
You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.
His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.
“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.
Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.
The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.
Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.
“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”
His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.
“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.
Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.
He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.
“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.
Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.
Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.
“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”
Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”
Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.
“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.
You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.
In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.
Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.
The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.
Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.
Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.
“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.
Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.
“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.
"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.
“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.
“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.
He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.
“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”
You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,
“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”
You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.
Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,
“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”
You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.
“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”
You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.
“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”
You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.
You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.
“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.
Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.
Something that should've been a mundane task.
However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.
A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.
Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.
Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.
He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.
Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.
Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.
You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.
The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.
“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”
Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.
His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.
A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.
It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.
Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.
“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”
Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.
The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.
“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“
His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.
You nodded, desperate for him.
“Please, let me make you a daddy.”
With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.
You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.
If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”
You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.
He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.
“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”
His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.
“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.
After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.
“Rhysie?”
“Yes, love?”
“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”
His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.
Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.
Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.
If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.
Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…
The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.
Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.
During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.
You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”
You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.
You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.
He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.
He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.
Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.
Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.
“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.
“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.
Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.
His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.
Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.
Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.
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🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath
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historiaxvanserra · 6 months
Text
These Violent Delights | An Eris Vanserra story
Summary: At a ball in Hewn City, you meet your match in Eris Vanserra
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (brief mentions of Azriel x reader)
Word Count: 7.6k
Previously called If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power. I changed the name to adapt if from a one shot into a series.
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You had been born on a night like this, you think. The storm-streaked clouds line the heavens like flowering hydrangeas as they dissolve into a black abyss and the moonlight shines like pearls on the water where the horizon meets the Sidra. 
Storm-streaked they had called you. 
When you were a little girl, your father had told you that you had come into this world in the same way as the old Gods had. Born from the merciless depths of some unknowable blue-darkness; cruel and beautiful, and fearless. 
Now fear is all you know. 
The crack of forked white lightening against the darkening horizon pushes you further into introspective thought. The visions come with the quiet; flashes of silver and gold and the icy embrace of the water. That infernal cauldron and what it had taken from. It haunts you, even in dreaming.  
Of late, the days seem to pass in a state of perpetual purgatory, marred by memories and the water– an unforgiving tempest that tears through you. 
The water cleanses but it also devastates. 
Your father had once called you water; the salt and the sea. 
You had always wondered what that meant. 
But here you stand-- a storm incarnate; volatile, half-wild and isolating. And who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness?
The feeling of harsh violet eyes on you is enough to drag you gaze from your spot near the balcony and the storm as it rages outside. 
“Are you ready, Nesta?” Rhysand’s voice is velvet night as it reverberates around the small waiting room. 
A chill runs down your spine when you catch his eyes, glinting and violet in the dim light. You regard Nesta cooly as she tilts her chin upwards. 
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Nesta’s eyes are lined with kohl and looking at her is like looking into the eye of a storm.
She always had an austere kind of beauty that left you speechless. 
Rhysand only nods simply before taking Feyre’s arm and approaching the large doorway. Nesta and Elain fall into rank behind them with practiced ease. It is you who hovers awkwardly in the background for a moment before taking your place in the middle of the formation. A solitary figure amongst them. 
You swallow thickly and you catch the lingering scent of a night chilled mist as you bristle. A whisper of night wraps itself around you like a cold comfort. These days his scent seems to follow you like a shadow; though, you suppose when you’ve spent every night this week wrapped around him, trying to drown out your own thoughts, there is bound to be a trace of him that lingers there.
At last, the towering doors to the throne room yawned open. 
The throne room is lined with black candles and evergreen wreaths frame the doorway, and moonflowers climb up the high, onyx pillars like ivy. And on each side of the aisles there were two magnificent banquet tables, piled high with food enough to feed a city. Though it was not to be touched without express permission from the High Lord.
A ripple of dark power reverberates through the mountain as The High Lord and Lady enter the throne room. You swear you feel the mountain wail in their presence. It is a powerful thing and you feel something within yourself begin to stir with it. 
A cold rage as it makes a home in your chest. 
The courtiers pale as they approach, parting like the tide as their High Lord and High Lady brush through them, crowned in silver crystals and garbed in midnight black robes. 
Rhysand looks beautiful you think as your eyes find him in the procession-- he stands tall against you all, his hair perfectly quaffed and the rich scent of mandarin and night-blooming jasmine seems to follow him.
All that pales in comparison to Feyre; the dress she wears is like tangible shadow. Gossamer thin silk and tulle that glitters with flecks of silver starlight, all gathered about her waist with a thin belt that accentuates the swell of her stomach. 
The room beholds her with baited breath; a sense of awe and ire. 
She looks like the visage of some ancient Goddess of the moon; pale and beautiful in the silvery light. 
You sense a shift in the air as they approach the dias and Rhysand’s shoulders tense; he is a picture of male pride. There is a dangerous quality to it that chills you to the bone. A cold violence that feels almost kindred to you. Feyre’s full red lips part and she smiles until it seems to dampen Rhys’s anger as he reaches for her as they climb the steps of the onyx dias. 
Keir’s face is twisted in a half-grimace, somewhere between astonishment and anguish. Behind him the Eris Vanserra remains fixed in place, his face set in a painfully neutral expression as he regards the High Lord and Lady. 
Motion from behind you beckons you to move as Nesta and Elain fall into step with you and begin to pace the length of the aisle and approach the dias. 
All three of you are dressed in Night Court black. A symbol of your place amongst the royal family. A warning of the dark power which you all possessed. Stolen and gifted from that cauldron. A reminder of your value. It is a carefully rehearsed routine as Nesta takes her place between you both, the flare of her skirts bushing against the marble floor with each long stride. You and Elain flank her sides like two wraiths. 
Elain looks sallow in black, you think as you catch her eyes. A poor initiation of the coldness you wear so well etched onto her beautiful face and steely determination in her dark, rich eyes. 
Nesta outshines you all tonight-- her golden hair braided into a crown atop her head and a delicate crown glints in the lantern light, slender spikes jutting forward in a dark corona. Her wicked eyes glinted like cobalt in the light. She’s dressed all in black. The gown itself is skin tight and embroidered with intricate silver brocade, twisting vines and moonflowers adorn the velvet bodice, tracing the curve of her breasts and sinking low, to her navel where the silver thread gathers about a sapphire that matches the crystals on her crown. 
Nesta is a cruel beauty; enough to bring a God to his knees. 
And Cassian looks about ready to sink to his knees before her as you regard him on the dias. 
Nestas moves with a feline grace, expressive and smirking as she takes her place between Cassian and Elain on the platform. 
Feyre and Rhysand sink into their thrones with a measured grace and from your stop between Elain and Azriel you can see all the eyes in the room as they flit from one member of the Inner Circle to the next. 
But it is the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra that you meet in the gathering crowd. He offers you a courteous nod and the ghost of a smirk graces his full lips and you send a scathing look in his direction in return.
You hope he feels the bitter sting of your coldness as your eyes try to find anything else in the throne room to focus on. 
Azriel rolls on the balls of his feet as the silence settles in the room and he inches so close to you that you feel the scarred pads of his fingers brush the exposed skin of your back. 
“You look good in black,” his voice is impossibly quiet, almost inaudible as he dips low enough that he is speaking into the shell of your ear. 
A cold chill runs up the length of your spine.
“Thank you, Shadowsinger,” You say simply, a feral smile on your lips as you bare your teeth to him. 
A laugh sharp and cruel rings through you and Azriel’s hand tangles in the lengths of your hair tugging sharply. 
“You are most welcome,” Azriel agrees, his voice is like shadow and wind as it graces your ears “most welcome indeed.”
Azriel steps back into line as Rhysand stands to address the crowd. 
Your own spine straightens as though it is muscle memory by now. Obedience. To bend and break as the High Lord and Lady saw fit. 
Rhysand looks like Night Triumphant as he regards his uncle with a strange union of cruelty and cordiality. Recently Rhys and Feyre had softened slightly with the people of Hewn City. Keir in particular. They can’t afford to isolate him from court politics-- in case the need arises for his Darkbringers to fight again. Hence the fact Rhysand even abides his presence at all. Rhysand’s cruel gaze lingers just a touch too long though. A careful reminder of the fate he’ll earn if he ever decided to go against Rhys. 
It’s been months since you’ve been to Hewn City, longer since you involved yourself in court politics. Longer still, since any whispers of the Trove or Briallyn reached you. Though you aren’t naive enough to believe it is over. 
None of the Inner Circle are. 
That is why you find yourself in Hewn City tonight. Swathed in the sallow light, and painted like a pretty whore; all red lips and dark eyes, with trembling hands, wanting nothing more than to be back in that little cabin with your sisters by your side-- as you were when you were girls. 
Feyre rises to her feet to join Rhys and she addresses the crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.” 
The crowd seems to hum in acknowledgement and then they bow in a show of deference. 
Or blind obedience. 
Your eyes meet the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra once more, and it is you he looks at when he kneels. 
Keir slinks forward, offering your sister a low bow, “Allow me to extend my congratulations, High Lady.” His voice drips with false flattery as he dips his chin in a show of esteem. 
Eris Vanserra moves like a predator as he stalks forward, offering your sister a devastating, cultivated smile that feels almost authentic. “And allow me to extend my sincerest wishes, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.”
Rhysand’s mouth curls into a wicked half smile, his eyes darken to an amethyst color as she speaks “I’m sure your father will be most pleased for us.”
The implication that hands in the air is a dangerous one and you can feel the color drain from you at the terse exchange. A few more beast of silence and--
“Music,” The High Lord calls out and the orchestra from behind the mezzanine begins to play lightly, the sounds of lyres and harps ring through the air. 
Feyre once again addresses the crown, every inch the High Lady, “Go--eat--enjoy.” The crowd of silent courtiers disperse throughout the room as they aim to take their places at the tables. 
Each banquet table is piled high with an obscene amount of food and you find yourself feeling ashamed of the blatant opulence before you. When once you had nothing. Now you live without wanting. It makes you feel ashamed. How your old self would resent this wasteful indulgence. 
Turning away from the feasting courtiers you turn inwards towards the thrones on the dias. 
Now only Eris and Keir remain standing before the High Lord and Lady. You notice how neither of the men has deigned to acknowledge Morrigan’s presence behind the thrones. She looks ethereal and savage as she smirks down at them, her lips look as though they are stained wine red. 
Blood red, you think. 
The Illyrain’s at either side of you and your sisters look more like beasts carved into the dark stone of the mountain than anything else. Azriel and Cassian are clad in black armor, each adorned in ruby and sapphire to match their siphons that glow faintly in the low light. The brothers look as though they are the visage of some Gods of old; statuesque and hard-faced as they regard the Autumn Prince.
Cassian in particular looks like he might invoke some of that ancient power to stop Eris from dancing with Nesta tonight. He had not objected but, how could he? Rhys was his brother and his High Lord. Obedience is easier than the alternative. 
And the fate of The Night Court-- his home-- could rest on Eris’ alliance. So he will bite his tongue in the knowledge that what Eris offers is a chance at defeating Briallyn and Koschei. 
From your spot you watch the Autumn Prince with piqued curiosity. He will not stop looking at you and it is infuriating. 
It brings a cold anger bubbling to the skin's surface; all biting fury and icy violence. 
The conversation between Keir and Rhys seems to come to a natural end and the lull in the conversation has the whole room falling into silence, waiting for their next order. Like puppets.
And your sister the puppet master, pulling the strings as she commands, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance--”.
The courtiers like a midnight sea part and pair off in swathes of dark silk and velvet. Even Keir retreats into the crowd and pairs off with a dark haired female. 
Eris turns on his heels, the wrap of his riding boots against the floor echo through your head. 
“Before you join in the merriment, Eris,” Rhy’s voice is a velvet drawl as he presents a long black box, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”
You swallow hard and step forward. Procuring the box from Rhysand you press forward, one long stride that brings you face to face with the Autumn Prince and for the first time you truly look at him. 
A night-kissed wind envelops the pair of you, enough to wrap behind Eris blocking the dias from view of the dancing courtiers. 
Eris Vanserra is devastating; he has a cruel sort of beauty, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut into you, but his eyes are soft and unwavering. He is a strange juxtaposition.
Eris arches a brow at Rhysand and you flip open the carved lid of the box. Eris stiffens, his voice low and dangerous. 
“What is this?” he asks, somewhere between disbelief and wariness. 
“A present,” Rhysand clarifies and you catch a glimpse of ruby and gold on the hilt of the dagger. 
You refrain from grimacing at the truth you are confronted with. Rhysand and your sister want to sell off Nesta like a broodmare and her Made weapons with her. 
A truly beautiful piece. And dangerous too. 
Like Eris, something in you calls.
Eris’ hand hovers over the open box and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“You sense its power, then?” Feyre asks voice dripping with a sense of smugness that does not suit her in the slightest. 
Eris nods carefully, his eyes flicking to the High Lord and Lady before finding yours again. 
“There’s flame in it,” he says, hand still hovering over the weapon. As if something in him senses its true power. He closes the lid abruptly. “Why give it to me?”
Feyre smiles lightly and shrugs, “You’re our ally.”
Feyre rests a protective hand over the swell of her stomach, “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It’s only fair to grant you a weapon that operates outside of those rules too.”
You stand transfixed by the twitch of his jaw and the bob of his throat as he considers her words. 
“It is truly made then?” He asks, carefully. His eyes never leave yours and it is your voice that answers his question. 
“It is, My Lord.” your voice comes out all cold and gravelly, unlike yourself. 
Rhysand speaks again though the beating of your heart renders him almost mute, “From my personal collection. An heirloom of sorts.” 
“All this time,” Eris’ voice is dark and thoughtful, “ all these years you possessed a Made weapon and you kept it hidden.”
“Even during the war,” Eris says more to himself than anyone else. 
There is a dangerous sense of anger and skepticism in the air as Eris examines the weapon again, his hand once more runs over the length of the dagger, his fingers barely ghosting the cool metal. 
“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre offers in warning, her voice quiet and threatening. 
Eris stills and nods in acknowledgement. He extends a smile that looks courteous enough to be genuine and once more allows his finger to run over the smooth length of the blade. “Thank you,” 
“Might I leave it in your safekeeping while I dance, My Lady?” Eris’s voice seems distant and far away and it takes a moment for you to realize that he is speaking directly to you. 
You look at him coldly, unable to muster the warmth of genuine affection when he is looking at you like that. It is infuriating. That someone so cruel might also be so insufferably handsome. 
“Yes, My Lord.”
Feyre nods to Rhys and Eris in acknowledgement and against your better judgment you let your eyes linger over the graceful curve of his calves and up over the contours of his muscled thighs, all the way up over the broad expanse of his chest and finally becoming entangled in the unbound curls of copper hair as he sweeps it over his shoulder. 
Devilishly and devastatingly handsome. Sun-blood handsome. 
Feyre’s soft lilt brings you back to reality as she says “Use it well, Lord.” 
Your sister's smile curves into a soft smile at Eris and extends a hand to him, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me quite unwell.” Feyre makes a show of looking between the two sisters who stand in line with Cassian and Azriel. 
Elain, at least, has the good grace to give the impression of seeming interested. Nesta though looks bored. As though she is only half listening. As though they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made. 
Perhaps it was the way that Nesta’s grey eyes had drifted away from the dancing sea of courtiers, or the forlorn look on Cassian’s face as he stood on the dias, but either way it made you realize something. That maybe the Illyrian General meant more to Nesta than she would ever let on. More than that dagger-- more than magic or power or court politics.  
Feyre notes the direction of Nesta’s stare and then looks between you and Eris. The corners of her lips twitch in nervous anticipation as her eyes settle on you. 
“My lovely sister shall take my place.” Feyre nods to you and for a moment you let the icy wrath in your stare settle over her before dipping your head to her. 
Eris’ throat bobs as you assess him with that same cold gaze. A slender hand takes the Made dagger from you and you hold out a hand to him. 
He extends a sculpted arm out to you, his large hand wrapping around you as you yield to him. His long, deft fingers brush against yours; his skin is warm to the touch and even in the pallid light it is clear and pale, with golden hues that compliment the warm depths of his eyes. Your chest grows taut and you feel emotion course through you with the force of a raging tempest. 
You loose a breathy gasp and for a moment you exist somewhere outside of yourself. You hear Eris’ voice, a warm, low timbre as he utters your name. He offers you his arm as you descend from your spot on the onyx dias. The sound of your slippers echo in the silent chamber. Eris’s face is set in a painfully neutral expression and you try your hardest to mirror it. Hoping he will not see the storm raging inside of you. You think of Nesta and the way she moves with such thoughtful grace and so you copy it; your chin tilted high and each step becomes a glide as you reach the edge of the marble dance floor. 
The eyes of the courtiers fall onto you. 
You feel the heat of Eris stare as it burns into the side of your face-- you feel a pair of violet eyes on you too. A cold chill spreads through you when his talons scrape dangerously and then you see him in your mind's eye. What a dangerous turn of events. 
Dangerous? You had never considered yourself as something dangerous. 
Nesta might have seduced Eris, but you will bring him to his knees. Rhysand’s cold tenor rattles around your mind and for a moment you see him standing at the precipice of a cliff as the storm rolls in, and the jagged rocks below look like the opening of a Helmouth. 
There is no doubt that Nesta is more beautiful. With a feline sort of beauty; long legs and a graceful neck, all angular and steely eyed. Nesta had inherited the aristocratic sort of beauty that your mother possessed. You had always been half-wild, unapproachable and--
Well, it is your mother’s voice that resounds in your head, of two sisters one is always the dancer and one the watcher. 
Tonight the roles reverse as you take your place in the middle of the dance floor. You will bring him to his knees. 
You catch Azriel’s eye as the instrumental music fades into momentary silence. From his spot on the dias he looks like a dark God; and he looks like he might just tear Eris to blood ribbons when his hand wraps around your waist. 
Eris brings you so close to him that you're pressed against him and as the harp begins to play, high and sweet, he smiles softly at you. As if the notes of music wrap around you, you raise your palm to his flat and open, an invitation if he has even seen one. 
The low stringed instruments usher in the music like a coming storm, a summons to the dance in a rushing of music, like water. You remind yourself to smile wickedly at Eris as he slides a broad hand over the curves and divots of your waist and hips. You lift your head high and, looking up into his perfect face you bare your teeth to him. All ruby red lips and pearls and he smiles so wickedly that you’re not sure who is supposed to be seducing who. 
Those strange amber eyes-- so haunting in the faelight. 
The harps and lyres sing so beautifully in the air and when the violins begin to play, it feels like a siren song in the air. A beckoning. As your body moves with the ebb and flow of the dancing tide. 
Eris leads you into the waltz, he moves with practiced ease. He knows every note, every trough and swell of the music, each nuance and note. 
Nesta would outdance you everytime. This you know. She moves like the music becomes her. And in so many ways it does. Her body bends to the will of the orchestral sound, and it bends to her too. 
So you will have to play it differently. 
The music sweeps you up in it’s tide, and as the music swells you decide to surrender yourself to the water. Let it wash all over you. Your body, once rigid and taut, goes pliant in Eris’ arms. You let the orchestral sound drown out your doubts and give yourself over to it. To him. His fingers ghost the line of your spine and he pushes you further still, against him. So close that you feel your heartbeat in tandem and your body bends to his will. 
It is easier to bend than to break. 
Better to relinquish control than have it taken from you. 
Eris’ eyes widen and soften then-- as if he feels it too-- you feel his hands loosen before tightening again around you. Somehow different now. Somehow, strangely, comforting. 
He moves with such grace and skill, his body reacts to every fluttering note and pause in the music. And the whole time his eyes are on you. And you can’t look away. The dark, warm depths of his eyes like a slow-burning fire that consumes all in its wake. 
You find the faces of your family in the crowd and you see that their normally composed demeanor seems to have shifted, their eyes wide and jaws slack as you move with the tide. 
Tonight you are the storm and the fire will bend to you. 
You will bring him to his knees, you think. As the music washes over you. 
Has there ever been such a haunting and mournful sound in all the world? Your name falling from Eris’mouth perhaps.
The snippets of the music Nesta had described to you, from her memory of the Veritas, paled in comparison. It flows and swims around you, filling you like water, and if you let it, it could be enough to drown you. To sink into the depths of the high-arching song. 
Eris smiles again when you fall into step with him so effortlessly, like you are an extension of him. 
One soul in two bodies.
His broad hand tightens over the flare of your hip, his fingers flexing before digging into the malleable flesh. The smile you give him feels much too vulnerable and genuine to bring you any sort of comfort. 
Eris' amber eyes shine with feral delight and you see yourself reflected in his eyes; you look like sin personified. The dark material of your dress gathers about your waist, held in place only by velvet ribbon and a few embroidered onyx crystals. The deep cut of the dress is so low that it bares the ample curve of your breasts and your strain to catch your breath because of how tight the dress has been laced. 
The person you see in Eris’eyes looks like the incarnation of some ancient deity; dark and cold, and cruel. And beautiful. 
Eris’ broad hand spreads across the middle of your back, pressed firm between your shoulder blades and you burn beneath him. As the music lulls and flutters his gaze locks onto yours and flame simmers in those dark topaz eyes and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Cat-like and feral as he dips you low, supporting your weight in his arms. His face comes to hover over yours and you’re transfixed by his unyielding stare. 
Beautiful and haunting eyes.
One hand is wrapped around his neck and the other you bring to touch his cheek with the tenderness of someone who has never truly been touched. His face falters and something akin to raw vulnerability flashes in his eyes. 
Bring him to his knees.
In one swift movement Eris sweeps you so that you are standing upright, pressed so close to his chest that you feel each groove and divot of his sculpted chest. You place that same hand over his blazing heart and as the music filters into stunned silence, Eris eyes you with feral delight. 
For a moment, as the heaving in your chest subsides you allow yourself to remain in his tender grasp. His fingers ghosting the curve of you hip and the small of your back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the skin there. 
The faces of the courtiers turn upon you. 
You, this once-human female, barely out of girlhood, who had been thrust into this world of dark power and politics. 
Who stood before them now, coloured in the murky green hues of Hewn City. 
Storm-streaked girl. 
It is like being born again and the mountain trembles in your wake. 
The eyes of your High Lord and Lady land on you and Eris at the foot of the dias. Rhysand rises in his seat and his violet eyes meet yours and something wicked and enchanting flashes in them. Feyre regards you with a wild smile and she laughs before tipping her head to you in acknowledgement. 
And in a show of secret defiance you plunge into the deepest curtsey you can manage; your chest still rising and falling with a dramatic flare, and your skirts pool around you like inky shadows as you sink low onto the marble. You dip your chin ever so slightly, never quite breaking eye contact with the cruel violet gaze that assesses you with a dangerous glint. 
A laugh of dark joy bursts from Eris beside you who in turn, offers his own small bow before capturing you again in his firm hold as the orchestra begins to play again. 
Your mother had always wanted a Prince for Nesta, and yet, here you were-- beautiful, cruel and merciless, with the Autumn Prince sinking into the cold depths of your eyes. 
Everyone who has ever loved you has underestimated you. But looking into Eris’ eyes you see something kindred to you. 
You will bring them all to their knees. 
Eris' amber eyes gleam with want as he takes you in again and you loose a shaky breath as he leads you into the next dance. 
The music is soft and light, the strings sing a song so aching and mournful that you feel once again overcome with it. All of your violent coldness, all that biting fury, rendered a useless ruse as the music becomes you. 
Eris might be the monster they all say he is, but looking at him now, in the soft light, you see something else. 
“Trust Rhysand to keep such a beautiful creature to himself.” Eris’ amber eyes study you carefully. 
You school your face to remain neutral, with just a touch of scorn as you bite back. 
“If beauty is all you can see, My Lord” You say, your voice dark and taunting, “I fear you have missed the point entirely.” 
“Intelligent too,” Eris chuckles darkly and wraps a wisp of your unbound hair around his forefinger, “and dangerous.”
You don’t deign to reply though Eris continues his assessment of you, his eyes trailing over you, afire with dark promise. 
“I’ve seen you before though,” Eris asks as he steps into the next part of the song, “haven’t I?”
His eyes narrow on you and you think back to the last time you saw Eris Vanserra. 
“At the High Lords meeting,” You say quietly, your voice thick with shame as you recall the meeting some months back. 
You had been little more than a wraith then, when the dreams of drowning in that cauldron plagued you nightly, a girl gulping on a woman’s grief. Now those dreams only come with the coming of a storm. A warning or some ill-fated omen.
“The time since the way has changed you.” It is not a question but a statement. 
You don’t smile at him like you should. Instead you meet Eris’ burning stare with a measured look of your own, “For the better, I hope?”
Eris thinks for a moment, as if looking for the right words to express his meaning. 
“You are a Goddess.” he says slyly gesturing to the dress as the skirts brush against him, baring the slit in the thigh to him. 
“Then kneel to me.” You say, not missing a beat as Eris laughs wickedly and brings his mouth to hover over the shell of your ear. 
“It seems you came to play the game tonight, afterall.” Eris says, his voice a low murmur in your ear. 
He spins you again, quick and violent before you crash back into him again, “don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.” 
“But I should believe you?” You ask, arching a brow to the cruel prince. 
“You shouldn’t believe anyone here, Little fox.” Eris tips his head towards the dias where Mor watches the pair of you from her spot besides the High Lord and Lady. 
“The Morrigan knows the truth,” Eris insists, “though she has never revealed it.” 
“Why?” You ask curiously. 
“Because she is afraid of it.” Eris’ voice is tempered and quiet and he casts the Inner Circle a look of his own, “they all are.” 
Your mouth twitches with the ghost of a smirk as you press yourself further into him, “You don’t do yourself any favors with this mask you wear.”
“Don’t I? I’ve managed to ally myself to this court, under constant threat of being discovered by my father-- do you have any idea what he’d do to me if he found out, Little fox?” Eris asks, the fire within him lighting and flickering in his amber eyes. “I ally myself with this court, I offer aid when I can, I placate Rhysand with ceremonies and shows of deference. Why do you think that is?”
Eris dips you again and the fan on his unbound hair brushes against your bare shoulders. 
“Because there’s something in it for you.” It isn’t a matter of question. You know it to be true and you see it in the way that Eris regards you with a mixture of fondness and caution. 
“Because there is something in it for me,” Eris confirms, “and tell me, what is in it for me?”
“What is it that you want, My Lord?” You ask, fluttering dark lashes at him and the music swells. 
“What is Rhysand offering?” Eris counters and leads you further into the center of the floor. 
“Nothing that I have the power to grant you.”
Eris laughs, the sound like silk on your skin and you shiver as he brings his lips to graze your ear, “I very much doubt that, Little fox?”
You swallow thickly and a surge of dark power pricks at your skin. You let him see it; all that cold rage, and the violence of the sea. 
Eris' face twists but not from fear and a strange look of reverence shines in his eyes. 
The waltz comes to a close and as the music fades into the chatter of the courtiers he whispers into your ear once more. 
“They say your sister Elain is the beauty, but you are something else entirely.” His breath is hot and sacred on your neck, and a broad hand strokes the bare skin of your back and you find yourself arching into him. 
Eris takes a step back from you, holding your hand above your head and turning you slowly as his eyes roam the curves and contours of your body, “You are wasted in the Night Court,” 
“Truly wasted.” His voice is a low whistle as you stop in front of him now. 
“And where might I be used more effectively, My Lord?” 
Eris chuckles again but before he can answer--
“Get your hands off her, Eris.” Azriel’s voice is like cold death that cuts through the spell that Eris has you under. His wrath comes off him in waves that crash against you, halting your movements. 
The dancing sea around you seems to cease to move as Eris and Azriel lock eyes. 
Eris straightens his back and he closes his hand over yours-- gently, almost protectively-- and he locks his eyes onto Azriel. 
Hazel and amber meet and shadow and light seem to dance in the air. The courtiers wait with baited breath. 
“I don’t take orders from the likes of you, Shadowsinger.” 
You stifle a snarl as you look at Azriel. Who does he think he is? He has no claim over you. He had made that much clear when you started this thing. A means to an end. A placeholder for another sister. 
“Am I to understand that you’d like to dance, Azriel?” You ask cooly, trying not to let your violet rage show in the darkness of your eyes. 
“Yes.” His voice is insistent and thick with jealousy and the promise of violence. 
Before you can pull yourself from Eris’ protective grip, Azriel is tugging on your wrist and bringing you into his side. 
Eris bares his teeth to Azriel and fire dances in those strange amber eyes. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.” 
Azriel laughs darkly and his shadows become a violent wisp of dark that wraps itself around you in a possessive manner. 
You swallow down the shame that you feel when Eris looks at you -- like all the power you had just moments ago has been ripped away from you, and now you are just another piece on the board to be bought and sold as your High Lord saw fit. 
A pretty whore, painted like some dark Goddess.
You band an arm across Azriel’s chest as he lunges forward in a flurry of movement. 
“It’s alright,” you offer Eris an apologetic smile, “I’ve taken too much of your time already.” You say diplomatically, taking Azriel’s hand in your own and pulling away from Eris.
Feyre and Rhysand had given up one of Nesta’s Made daggers in the name of Eris’ continued alliance, surely, one interrupted dance will not jeopardize it. 
Eris offers you a taut smile and he bows his head to you, “Very well then, we’ll play later, Little Fox.” 
Eris doesn’t so much as acknowledge Azriel as he ventures towards the dias again. 
Azriel holds you in place, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and he searches you as if looking for signs of injury. His touch is cold and biting. 
“Happy now?” you roll your eyes at him. 
Azriel stares coldly at you, his face set like stone, as if carved into the dark stone of the mountain, “not in the slightest.” 
You glance hesitantly over his shoulder and see Rhysand and Feyre each sharing a look of subtle fury. Azriel will no doubt be on the receiving end of a mental lashing. If Azriel has cost them this alliance it comes down on you too-
“He touched you and I-,” Azriel’s voice is weighted and serious at the same time you speak out. 
“Whatever has passed between us,” you say gesturing between you and him, “it has to end, Azriel.”
If Azriel felt anything at all but cold indifference his face does not show it. 
“Because of Eris?” Azriel asks incredulously, his tone full of venom.
“No, of course not,” You say truthfully, “because we are fools to think this will ever be enough.” 
A beat of silence lingers in the air between you.
“For either of us.” 
Azriel takes a moment to think about it and you see the recognition flash in his darkening hazel eyes, he looks over his shoulder in Elain’s direction. Carefully, measured, he looks at you again. 
“You want Elain.” You say matter of factly, even with a hint of sadness, “don’t deny it-- and I…” your voice trails into nothing. An errant whisper of power. 
“And what do you want?” Azriel asks, his voice once dark and cruel is something akin to familial. 
“I’m not sure yet.” you say thoughtfully, looking back to the dias where everyone regards you and Azriel warily. 
Azriel softens and he lets go of your arms and hides his scarred fingertips in the pockets of his dark colored tunic. He runs a hand over his face in regret and looses a shaky breath before laughing again. 
“Rhys is going to fucking slaughter me.” Azriel says and you laugh quietly, muttering in agreement as you link arms with his and lead him through the dancing sea of courtiers to the wine table. 
Azriel takes a goblet in each hand and offers one to you. The wine is dark and red and stains your lips like blood. The taste is woody and spiced, it tastes a little like Autumn. Azriel leans into the onyx pillar and angles himself away from the prying eyes of the courtiers as they dance. 
You’re at his side and move so that his body obstructs the view of Rhysand and Feyre, shunning their ire. 
“How pissed do you think they’ll be?” You ask grimly. 
“With you?” Azriel asks, cocking a brow in confusion. You only nod and wait for him to continue. Azriel swallows a large mouthful of wine, wiping his mouth with the back of a scarred hand “not at all, you did them a favor-- practically had Eris on his knees.” 
“Good.” You meet his eyes and for the first time tonight you feel as though you might just have something to offer. 
“Be careful with Eris,” Azriel says gently, his hand on your arm, “not everything he says is to be trusted.” 
“But I can trust you?” You ask, thinking back to what Eris had said earlier in the evening.
“Always.” Azriel says.
The orchestral music comes to a dramatic close and you see Nesta and Cassian dancing happily in the crowds. Elain remains on the dias and you catch her eyes as she watches you and Azriel with careful, wide eyes. 
“Come on, Shadowsinger,” You say defiantly, pushing yourself from the onyx pillar, “time to face the High Lord.” 
Azreil huffs indignantly and pushes away from the pillar, abandoning his goblet and stalking his way to Elain’s side on the dias. She smiles softly at him and you see some of the tension in Azriel’s shoulders dissolve into nothing but a contented ease. 
You approach the dias with a quiet reproach and as you meet Feyre’s eyes she croons at you, her smile is once of a brilliant radiant light that spills from her. A stark contrast to the cold darkness that you carry so well. 
Eris' voice is dark and serious as you approach The High Lord, his jaw tightens when Rhysand regards him with a cool violet gaze. 
“I have my reasons.” 
You’re not entirely sure what they’re talking about and when you take your place next to Feyre she places a hand on your arm in comfort. Though it does nothing to settle the acid churning in your stomach nor the storm that is raging inside of you. 
“Care to share those reasons with us?” Rhysand asks, picking at an errant thread on his beautiful dark tunic. 
For a moment his eyes glaze over, muted violet as he speaks mind to mind with the Autumn Prince.
Rhysand’s lips twitch lightly and you can see that whatever words passed between him and Eris has pleased him greatly-- at least given him the upper hand so that he doesn’t feel threatened but Eris’ commanding presence. 
Eris steps forwards again and adds, “Bestides, it is a bonus of course, that in doing so, I would be getting what has been owed to me even since my betrothal to Morrigan.” 
Rhysand studies Eris and then casts a fleeting glance along the line to you, standing dutifully at Feyre’s side. 
Like the docile, and obedient sister he wants you to be. 
A conduit of his dark power. A piece to be played in this game of power and politics. 
“Anything I want-- anything at all, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me it all in exchange for the Archeron girl as your wife?”
Azriel, still somewhat territorial, lets loose a low growl that rumbles like thunder through the air. 
Eris doesn’t deign to even look in his direction-- instead those haunting amber eyes linger on you. His eyes are soft and dark, burning into yours, and you find yourself caught in the unyielding, all consuming fire that is Eris Vanserra. 
Eris turns back to Rhysand. “Not as far as my heir, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against the human queen? You’ll have them, and anything else you might ask of me.” 
“Just for her?” Azriel’s voice is cutting and suspicious as he hones in on Eris Vanserra. 
“The girl, and, when the time comes, you’ll aid me in seizing the Autumn Throne from my father.” Eris adds, his eyes shine with that slow-burning fire, “and then you’ll have all the armies you desire.”
Rhysand and Feyre share a look of pure delight, irreverent to anyone else but you see it for what it is. Feral delight at their victory. 
“I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?” 
I said bring him to his knees, darling. What dark magic is this? What have you done to him? Rhysand’s voice is like night-kissed air in your mind. 
Feyre’s laugh rings through you like birdsong and you can’t help the satisfied smirk that curls onto your lips.
You’re about to speak when you catch Eris’ eyes; those strange amber eyes. And then you feel it. 
A bond that grows taut and reverberates through the hall, like a ripple of power and a golden thread bridges the distance between your body and his. 
“Mate?” Eris’ voice strains with the weight of it, and you feel like light goes all through you, as though you are little more than a shadow or a memory as you allow yourself to sink into the dark waters that live within your mind's eye. “My mate.”
Your name breaks apart in his mouth and in a flash of violet and murky blue you’re greeted by the storm as it breaks over Velaris. On the horizon, dark and ominous as it approaches. You reach the balcony and wade out into the violent night, waiting for the storm to stake its claim to you. 
You were born on a night like this, you tell yourself. Like the Gods of old; born from the storms and the seas, to withstand the hardships of this world. To be cruel and merciless and beautiful. 
You whisper it, until you feel that bond in your chest grow taut, strained with the distance between you. And as Eris’ emotions run like water into you, for the first time in a long time you allow yourself to feel. 
To yield to the storm as it breaks against you with all the force of a great tempest.
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satorusdiary · 1 year
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“You’re the boss’s girlfriend? he could do better..”
CEO!Toji Fushiguro x reader
Warnings: Slight angst, insecure reader, f!reader, smut, Megumi loves Toji’s girlfriend, cursing, humiliating, idk anything else
Summary: You start feeling insecure once Toji’s secretary makes a comment about you. Toji being the petty, but loving boyfriend he is, he makes you feel like your the most beautiful person living. In order to make you get rid of your insecurities, he fucks you in your guys shared bedroom, then he fires the lady who was being mean to his sweetheart the next day. <;33
Authors note: please don’t mind any errors, i’m too tired to edit😭
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Something that you knew, that was obvious about Toji was that he was hot. He could pull anyone’s attention with no hesitation, hell without him even noticing.
Being the successful, hot CEO he is. He’s bound to catch attention from his workers of course. A certain secretary that doesn’t seem to leave him alone, always gets caught up on him.
“Hi! Umm.. is Toji available? I’d like to drop of his lunch which he forgot to bring along with him.” Your cheerful smile gets bigger when you step infront of the counter. Behind the counter was Toji’s secretary, who you didn’t know about until now.
The lady looks up at you with a bored but disgusted expression written all over her face, which makes your smile drop slightly. “He’s busy, now go? Your being a distraction right now.” Her monotone voice let out, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
‘I thought her job was to take in anyone who walks in the building,’ You sighed mentally to yourself. Her rude tone just made you feel like jumping over the counter and shoving the pen she was holding down her throat. But, being the good girl you were, you held yourself back.
You placed the bag of food on the counter, laying your arms down just so you could hold yourself up and look at the secretary with a straight face.
“I promise i won’t be long, i just need to drop off his food since his break is soon.” You checked the large clock that was hanging over the big long fireplace that was also in the main lobby.
She sits up from her seat and picks up the bag, tossing it in the trash that’s beside her, making you gasp. The lunch, which was Toji’s favorite was now in the trash. And she just threw it as if it was nothing, what’s wrong with her?!
“What the fuck.” You muttered. Your mouth was agaped opened as you looked at her with slight hurt in your e/c orbs.
“He’s busy! Just leave, your being an annoying pest right now. I don’t think he’d appreciate someone barging in just to give him food that probably tastes like shit.” She didn’t hesitate on criticizing you, and the food. It made your heart ache a little to be apart of someone disrespecting you.
“Excuse you! That someone is his girlfriend, are you stupid?” You cursed her out, going slightly over the counter to get up in her face which made her back up slightly.
She looked at you up and down, then chuckled. Soon that chucking became big time laughter.
“Your the boss’s girlfriend? He could do better… Honey have you seen all the women he’s been with? your nothing compared to them.” She laughs once more. Your face falls, this was a feeling you never enjoyed in your life.
The feeling of being insecure.
As of now, you’re sitting on your shared bed, in Toji’s penthouse. The mean words sticking to your mind as you question to yourself if you were enough for Toji. You let out a loud sigh and fell backwards onto the big fluffy pillow, then you rolled around onto your stomach and hugged the pillow. Letting your cheek lay against it aswell.
The large door leading into the bedroom from the master bedroom opened, lightly banging against the wall. You turned your head, not moving positions to see Toji with a towel around his waist, his hair still wet after leaving the shower.
He frowns noticing how you still looked upset, you’ve been like this ever since he came home! But yet, you wouldn’t tell him why you were feeling sad. Once you turn your head back at its original position, Toji makes his way over to you taking a seat on the bed beside you. He frowns even more when you turn your head away from him, not wanting to meet his gaze.
“Sweet girl, talk to me. What happened?” Toji mumbles out, taking his warm hand under your shirt to rub the skin of your back in a soothing manner. You shake your head and snuggle in deeper into your pillow.
“Don’t wanna.” You stated, the two words that were let out from your mouth were slightly jumbled since half of your face was glued onto the pillow.
Toji sighs and pulls up his boxers over his legs, then his shorts. His towel was thrown to the floor, as he makes his way to the other side of the bed to lay face to face with you. Before you could turn away this time, Toji cups your free side of the face and rubs the outside of your red, heated cheek.
“Ima ask you again, what’s wrong ma? You wasn’t in my office enjoying lunch, other than that you didn’t bring my lunch when i texted you i forgotten it. Now your in a gloomy mood, what’s wrong hm?” He hums.
“—‘s nothing toji, swear..” You mumbled against his hand.
He shakes his head and sits up from the bed, making you confused until he opens his arms. “Sit here, baby c’mon”
Slowly, you sit up and crawl onto his lap. Your face now buried into his neck with your arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Your secretary’s a mean, disrespectful, little bitch, Toji.” You mumbled against his hair catching him by surprise. The first full thing you’ve spoken to him about, ever since he’s gotten home was something so blunt.
Toji snickered at your pettiness. Making you scoff.
“You wanted me to speak and you laugh? The fucks wrong with you, get off me.” You try getting off of his lap, but the strength in his arm that kept you down on his lap prevented you from leaving.
“No-No, ‘m so sorry sweetheart. Didn’t mean to be rude, tell me about why you think that.” Toji coughs, then brings small lovingly kisses on the nape of your neck along up to your jaw.
“Your secretary, she was being rude when i asked to come see you.” You started off. Toji hummed, waiting for you to continue as he played with the ends of your hair, that was in a small ponytail.
“When i asked her again she threw away the lunch i was going to give you! Then she said i wasn’t good enough compared to the other women you’ve been with. I left the building, because i didn’t want to face you after.” You admitted and took a deep breath in, the burning sensation in your throat increasing as you tried slowing down your breaths.
Toji stopped and pulled away from you, to have a look at you face to face. “She did that?”
You nodded your head, knowing that if you were to say anything else you’d end up cracking your voice and start crying then and there.
“Oh baby..” Toji mumbled before pressing feathery kisses on your forehead, and on the top of your nose. The tone in his voice made you sob out, the feeling of not being enough for him continues, making you lowers head just so he wouldn’t witness you pathetically cry.
He props two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look up at him with tearful eyes. He brings his other hand and wipes away the remaining tears that kept falling out of your pretty eyes.
“Y’know love, you’re the prettiest girl alive. Any other woman from my past will never compare to you. I can’t do any better, when you more than better ‘sweet girl.” Toji spoke, placing his forehead against yours.
He brings your face closer to his, placing his lips on your soft. puffy lips. Obviously from crying. His hands begin roaming around your bare legs, no shorts on. Just your underwear, and his shirt over your torso to keep you warm.
As less tears fall out from your eyes, your arms wrap around Toji’s neck tighter. Your hands playing with his raven hair. Your head moving at a certain angle just so you could bring the kiss in deeper.
When he pulls away, he begins kissing your jaw line. His hands now roaming down to your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing the living life out of it making you gasp.
“That bitch, swear’ knew she was trouble the second she walked in. ‘jus had to go and disrespect my baby and her wonderful cooking hm?” Toji hummed, sucking at the skin below your jaw.
“Don’t worry, i’ll deal with her for you tomorrow. How does that sound, ma?” He questions. A smile appears on your face, glossy eyes now closing at how big your smiling along with the nod you give him.
He brings his warm hands under the shirt you had stolen from his closet, and began massaging your breasts. Earning a big deep breath in from you.
"you are so beautiful, all for me. No one compares to you baby." he murmured, and you respond with a whimper, merely watching as Toji left a trail of wet kisses up your body. his hand came behind your neck to pull your head up, the other groping your breasts, pinching the buds.
Next thing you knew it, his muscular hands slide his shirt off of you, throwing it on the floor beside your bed. The cold air, now touching the softness of your skin making you whine.
Toji chuckles and brings a hand down to your clothes crotch, using two fingers to rub over your sopping pussy that was already wet. He could’ve sworn his dick twitched when your pussy reacted so well towards his fingers.
“T-Tojii.” You whine when he slips your panties to the side, and plays with the sensitive bud that made you even more wet. He slides his two fingers deep into your creamy cunt, hearing it squelch as he softly curls his big fingers upward to strike that area.
Toji furrows his brows, noticing how your legs begin trembling. The feeling of not being prepped, yet his fingers slipping into you like butter turned him on even more.
“oh fuckkk, ‘m gna cumm. Toji baby pleasee” You begged your boyfriend who’s as smirking, increasing his speed as he thrusted his fingers into you in a faster, but deeper pace.
“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” He questions, his thumb now teasing the bud on your cunt making you arch your back even more. Toji chuckles when you moan in response, making him bend over slightly and put a breast in his mouth. Sucking it eagerly. His tongue lapping over your nipple.
The moans that were being let out of your mouth only grew louder, With Toji pleasuring you both ways. You could’ve sworn you were going to break.
“Yes yes yes! Lemme cum, please please please!” You continued to beg. The burning sensation in your stomach continued to build up, begging to be released in a way you’ve never felt before.
Toji sucked in real hard before letting go with a wet 'pop.’ Your breast bounced at the recoil, with drops of his saliva falling down from your nipple.
“Fuck, cum. My beautiful girl.” He praises. A loud cry is let out of you, as you came all over his hand. Toji’s grin gets bigger when he watches you make a mess all over him, you hadn’t even notice that you have squirted. That was when you looked down to see a big wet mess on Toji’s lap, and his hand most importantly.
You looked at him embarrassed, with cheeks more red and heated as ever. You let out heavy breaths as you go through your after glow of having your first orgasm of the night.
“—‘m so sorry toji, didn’t mean to make a mess..” You stuttered not wanting your boyfriend to be upset at you. Toji only chuckled and shook his head, bringing his free dry hand to cup your face. He placed a kiss on your pouting lips, gently nibbling your bottom lip in a way that made you satisfied.
“don’t be sorry, now can you lay on your back please. Baby?” Toji asked you once more, making you nod your head obediently. You instantly got off his lap, and laid down, making sure to take off your soaking wet panties and throwing them off the bed.
Toji stood up, and took off his boxers. You sucked in a deep breath when you watched his cock bounce out freely, slapping his stomach. Though he didn’t notice it, but you had a small smirk on your face once you saw how rock hard it was.
He turned around to one of the dressers and opened the bottom drawer, that was specifically only for when you both got intimate. The only thing he got, was extra large condoms. It was a shame you weren’t on birth control anymore, the feeling of you getting filled up was something you both enjoyed.
Toji ripped of the packet with his teeth, taking out the condom and rolling it over his cock. The erection was really hard, it almost hurt.
“Please Toji, put it in me.” Doe eyes looked up at Toji’s green orbs, making a new feeling of lust appear in his body.
In an instant he’s on top of you, holding his cock against your weeping cunt. Just begging for him to be inside you, to ruin you, to make you forget about all of your insecurities.
The feeling was euphoric. The way he kissed his way up your body, ending at your lips and slipping his tongue inside. Both of your tongues swirling against each other, occasionally he would suck on it and whisper praises towards you. Making butterflies tickle your stomach.
Before you knew it, he began sinking his cock into you. There was a muffled moan that was let out of you, the stretch was almost too good to be true.
The lewd noises of your cunt squelching can be heard from all around the room. Carefully, he pushes himself inside you. His hands on both sides of your hips as he gets inside deeper.
Once he's fully inside he places his hand above your stomach to feel himself inside you. You were basically suffocating his cock inside of you from your squeezing, it made him close his eyes for a slight second to adjust to your feeling.
You placed your hand on his arm, rubbing it up and down and looked at him with doe eyes. "Tojii, move please." You beg. The feeling of him just cock warming you wasn't enough for your pleasure.
"you asked for this 'mama no going back now." He began thrusting into you in and out, in a harsh and fast manner. Your eyes began fluttering in arousal  as your clung to his arms.
As his thrusts grew louder, so did your moans. You gripped around his neck as he moved inside of you. The headboard banged violently against the wall making a harsh noise that you knew the neighbors wouldn't enjoy as Toji continued to push his big cock into you harshly.
Toji began to rock faster inside of you, observing the ways your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back as he thrusted into your g-spot which made you moan louder than ever. he pulled himself out of you, only to reinsert himself so you felt full once again as he made you adjust to his own size as you continued to cry out his name over and over.
Tears began escaping your e/c orbs. The wet substance began falling onto the bedsheets making Toji bend down to kiss your tears away. "You’re pretty when you cry." He complimented, continuing on to kiss your face and your tears.
You let out a sob, but it only made him want to fuck you harder. Toji brought your legs onto his shoulders, pretty tears ran down your cheeks as you felt his big fat cock sliding so deep inside your poor cunt.
He continued to roll his hips into yours in a fast pace. He abused your used hole in ways he has never before making a new feeling appear in your stomach. The bubble that was forming was just begging to be released. When his cock twitched inside of you, it made it worse for you.
"Look how deep i am inside you, baby." He cooed making your hand press against your stomach. You looked at him surprised as you felt his cock move inside your stomach. The feeling was almost too much to bear for you body.
He felt pleased that he had caused you to see stars as he watched your breasts bounce with each violent thrust he made. Toji continued to pound into you; you could hear your flesh slapping and hearing a mild squelching. As he continued to pound into you, you moaned out his name while holding onto him.
He groaned each time you clenched around him as he pulled away from you and then pushed himself back in. He halted the pulling and started to set a rough pace once more. Toji proceeded to exploit your sweet spots, and you felt ecstasy take over your body.
"—'m gonna cumm" you moaned outloud into Toji’s ear when you pulled him closer to you. Your bodies were hot, closed together as the intimate feeling continued on.
"Cum for me, y/n, good girl..." He groaned when he came inside the condom at the same time. His hand slipped down between your legs, rubbing your abused little puffy clit, making you cry out more from the pleasure.
“lo-love you s’much Toji, thank you.” You cried out whilst cumming. A white, gooey ring appear above the condoms on Toji’s cock making him hum in satisfaction, bringing his forehead down to yours, placing soft lil kisses on your pretty face.
“Love you more, baby. You’re so perfect, all beautiful just for me. Don’t care what anyone tells me, or you.” He reassures you. Deep breaths being felt against you as you tried collecting your breath.
He was still buried deep inside of you. Thrusting in slightly as he calmed down from his high. You watched as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, you hissed from the the overstimulation that over came inside your body.
He rubbed your thighs, muttered an apology while looking at your bruised, marked body. His chest burns with pride, once again claiming you as his.
After a few minutes of laying on each other Toji helps you put on a shirt that he took from his part of the closet. Admiring how beautiful you looked in his clothes.
The feelings of insecurity for you disappeared out of your mind, thanks to being trapped in the warmth of your boyfriend. All your troubles go away.
You were going to drift off to sleep until a few small knocks were heard from the entrance of the bedroom door, slightly startling you as you flinched under the blankets. Toji, who was under you rubbed your arm up and down.
You sat up from his chest and watched as the door opened, revealing a tired Megumi holding his baby bottle, and his blanket.
“M-Mommy?” Megumi mumbles out, not acknowledging his father whilst rubbing his eyes with his tiny hands. Your heart beats faster as you look at Toji’s son in awe.
“Gumi! I’m so sorry baby, did we wake you?” You frowned and carefully got out of bed, leaving behind a upset and now lonely Toji in bed, who watches his girlfriend ogle over his son.
“I-I heard screaming from you. A-Are you okay mommy? Did father hurt you?”
The sudden questions make you lightly laugh. You sit on the edge of the bed with Megumi on your lap as you rub his back, shaking your head.
“No baby, your father didn’t hurt me. We were just play fighting that’s all.” You smile and kiss his forehead. Toji huffs and lays in bed, frustrated at how most of his warmth was missing. Toji couldn’t deny it, but the way that his son starts calling you mommy just makes his heart warm up even more. Even if he didn’t like him as much.
You rolled your eyes at his sassyness, and continued cradling Megumi in your arms.
“Can i sleep on your side tonight mommy?” He asks. You nod your head with no hesitation, making Megumi give a cheerful smile which shows his incoming teeth coming in.
The both of you get tucked into bed, as quick as that Megumi drifts off to sleep beside you on your side of bed. You sigh in relief, turning to your side to look at Toji who was on his phone, leaning against the head board.
Your arm was wrapped around his waist, dropping your head against his chest making him stop whatever he was doing to look at you.
“mmm, love you Toji s’much, g’night.” You slide against his broad chest. He knows he can’t stay mad at you for giving all your attention to his son.
He kisses your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face. Then he leans over to kiss Megumis forehead, before turning off the only light that was on in the bedroom that was on top of the nightstand beside him.
“G’night, baby i love you more.”
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The next day, Toji shows up to work early. Obvious to him, his secretary Yuki’s early as-well. She’s sitting at the front desk, sending small glances towards Toji who was just staying in the lobby to wait for a few of his colleagues, or for someone special, who knows.
After about 10 minutes or 15, you show up in the building with a tote bag over your shoulder. The bag was filled with d food, this time it wouldn’t be trashed like it was yesterday.
Yuki pretends to not notice you both, but the ache in her heart tells her other wise when she was able to see Toji pull you in a tight hug. Along with a kiss on your forehead, and your lips.
She sighs in relief once the both of you make your way down the hallway, towards the elevator. That’s when Toji stops in his tracks along with you by his side, with his arm around you tightly.
“Yuki?” Toji turns his head slightly to look at his secretary who instantly fixes herself, brushing her hair with her fingers as she sends him a smile making you gag.
“Yes Toji-san?”
“You’re fired, pack up your things. I want you out of here immediately.” Toji glares at the woman. Her face drops at the sudden news.
“W-What?!” She cries out.
“Oh, and apologize to my wife while your at it. Can’t have you leaving without apologizing for disrespecting her. Tch, actin like your better then her is fucking embarrassing.”
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Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months
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you’re watching the maury show on your computer when katsuki marches into your room without a word and flops down next to you on your bed.
“ hello to you, too.” you snort. his words are muffled by your sheets but you’re about 90% sure he told you to shut up, you ignore it.
he lays face down on your bed for a while not saying anything and you know he’s had a long day and wants to be close to you without actually talking. you don’t mind, you’ll give him his space until he reaches out himself.
and he does after a little bit, turning his head around to face you as he looks from you to your computer screen, eyes focusing on the woman screaming that the man she cheated on her husband with was 100% not the father of her baby, mixed with the cheers of the audience.
he looks at you and raises a brow “ what’s happenin ?”
“ lady cheated on her husband with his brother.” you respond.
“ his brother ?” he repeats. his eyebrows furrow and you know he’s hooked. if there’s one thing katsuki loves but will never admit he does, it’s trash tv.
you nod, grinning somewhat evilly “his brother. now they’re trying to find out which one’s the father.”
he hums, scooting himself closer to you so he can see the screen too. he flips himself around so his neck isn’t craned at that awkward angle anymore and settles himself down right next to you. hook, line and sinker.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder and shoves his head in your neck, breathing you in. you both don’t say anything. “do you want me to play it from the beginning for you ?” he shakes his head in your neck. you reach your hand up to scratch at his scalp and you smile when he sighs. he holds you a little tighter, pressing feather light kisses into your neck.
katsuki’s never been good at expressing himself with any other emotion that isn’t anger. it makes him feel stupid and weak and soft. he’s had a long fucking day and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, simply wanting to indulge in you but he can’t tell you that, can’t find the words to, so he tries to find other ways to tell you and he hopes you understand and you do.
katsuki’s thankful for you because sometimes he wants to talk, wants to open up about what’s bothering him but sometimes he doesn’t. he doesn’t and you don’t pry when you know he doesn’t and he’s so thankful for you. he presses kisses on your skin and soft bites at your flesh to convey just how thankful he is, how grateful he is for having you. he hopes every warm press of his lips against your skin can convey how much he loves you loving him. and it does, because you turn your head and kiss the side of his head so sweetly and he knows you’re it for him.
he’ll tell you all of this one day, he promises. he’ll tell you all the thoughts swimming around in his head one day, but he hopes this’ll do for now. and unknowingly to him, it absolutely does.
he pulls his head out of your neck and kisses you hard on the cheek one, two, three times and you giggle. you feel him smile into your cheek when he kisses you a fourth time.
“fuck’re they screamin’ about ?” he says and you turn to look back at the screen. the woman is yelling at her husband’s brother vehemently denying the possibility of him being her baby’s father. you feel a little bad for laughing. “ she says he’s not the dad” you answer.
he clicks his tongue “ why the fuck is she on the show then.” he says, turning his attention back to your computer but his grip on you stays secure. you press yourself a little closer to him.
you’re still smiling lightly when you look back at your screen, simply shrugging. “ she said something about her having more sex with her husband than with him.” you answer and he snorts.
“ ten bucks neither one of them’s the father.”
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silentcryracha · 1 year
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❍ ‗ Baby Fever (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍
Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader
Genre/warnings : Just fluff! Mentions of pregnancies and giving birth (no graphic/explicit)
Summary : One of your best friends just had a baby, so you and your longtime boyfriend Hyunjin go see the new family, ending the day with unexpected plans.
Word count : 3.3 k
A/n : Damn this turned out long. I truly can't help it apologies (lol). Anyways this is something that I would've wrote regardless I think, but the inspiration definitely came from the recent video of Hyune, Felix and Innie with the baby. They got baby fever and so did I, what can I say :')
ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎
Part two and Three are out!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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As soon as you got the call from your best friend's husband, you were overjoyed. The couple had been married for some years by now and really wished to start a family. They encountered some issues along the way, but finally their baby boy was here!
After waiting a day for her to rest a bit, you managed to make arrangements for you and Hyunjin to go see them and the baby and make your congratulations in person. You were both so happy and excited for your friends, knowing for how long they've been wanting to have children.
Around five pm you got dressed, got into the car and headed for the hospital.
"Did you text him already?" your boyfriend asked, placing his free hand on your thigh an softly stroking the clothed skin. You smiled, looking up from your phone and then at him.
"Yes, right now. He told me the floor and room number." you replied, placing your own hand on his, intertwining your fingers. "I'm so happy for them, Hyune. They're gonna be such good parents, don't you think?" a hint of emotion in your voice.
He gazed at you for a second then went back to look at the road ahead, an endearing smile on his face.
"Yes they will. That child really got lucky, he's gonna be so loved." you couldn't help but smile wider and squeeze his hand slightly at his words.
After that, the ride remained in a comfortable silence, the radio softly playing in the background. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm but not overwhelmingly so. Just perfect.
After about fifteen minutes you reached the hospital and Hyunjin took his hand off you to put them both back on the steering wheel to park. You got out of the car and started walking towards the entrance.
You felt his hand search for yours, so you intertwined your fingers and gave him a small smile that he reciprocated. You entered the building and headed for the elevators, reaching the maternity ward in a few minutes.
"This place is a maze, gosh" you commented quietly and he hummed in agreement. Just at that moment you looked around and found the room's number.
"There it is!" you said excitedly, dragging Hyunjin's hand slightly. He chuckled at your smiley face and stood beside you as you knocked gently on the door. A couple of seconds later the door opened, revealing an older woman that you didn't recognize.
You were a bit taken aback but she quickly smiled politely and moved to the side to let you two enter the room.
"Good afternoon, ma'am" Hyunjin bowed his head respectfully and you did the same, offering a polite smile. Before you could even ask, the lady introduced herself as your friend's husband mother and let you inside, closing the door again behind you.
"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, congratulations" you said smiling. She nodded with a happy expression as if to accept the greeting, and then extended her arm towards the other end of the room where you saw your friend laying in bed, a glass of water in her hands.
She was looking over to the side with a smile, towards what you recognized to be her mother and her own husband, whom was gently cradling a small bundle in his arms.
"Your friends are here" the lady next to you announced, reclaiming their attention. Everyone looked in your direction, saying hi to you and Hyunjin and inviting you to come closer. You did, firstly greeting your friend's mother quickly and then bending down to give the new mom a hug.
"Congratulations, I'm so proud of you" you said softly, seeing her eyes a little glassy when you retreated from the hug.
"Thank you, honey. And stop with that face, don't make me cry now!" she exclaimed, pointing at you jokingly. You didn't quite understand which face exactly you were making, but quickly realized that you must've been a little moved too from the little sniffle that you let out. Hyunjin titled his head slightly to see your face at her words.
"Sorry!" you laughed it off casually and circled the bed, getting closer to the new dad whom just smiled as if to invite you to get closer. At the same time, you faintly heard Hyunjin greeting and congratulating your friend too.
"Can I hold him?" you asked quietly, almost timidly. The man nodded with a faint chuckle at your uncertainty and responded "Of course, come here auntie" you smiled and prepared yourself to welcome the baby in your arms as gently as possible.
As soon as he was in your arms you looked down; He was sleeping peacefully, only fussing and moving a little every now and then. The conversations were still going on in the background, but you were completely concentrated on the little guy in your arms.
Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you look up to see Hyunjin standing behind you, towering over you both. He had a small smile and was also looking down at the baby. You didn't even notice your friend's husband moving on the other side of the room to talk with his mother.
"He has cute chubby cheeks." he commented, a hint of humor in his voice but still endeared. You let out a faint laugh, trying to not move too much. That must've woken him up though, because his little eyelids fluttered revealing his cute eyes. You both smiled at the child.
"Oh, hello there. Did you sleep well, mh?" you cooed, lulling him gently. He blinked a few times, looking curiously at the two of you that clearly weren't his mom and dad. Hyunjin raised his and and slowly extended his fingertip to touch the baby's hand.
"Hi, little one. How are you- ...oh!" he gasped softly when he wrapped his little hand around his pointer finger. You chuckled and awed at the same time, looking up at your boyfriend's face that had a cute shocked expression on his face.
"You're already friends with uncle Hyune!" you joked, smiling down at your new nephew. Hyunjin moved the finger gently up and down to make him play a bit.
"Of course we are! See, he's also smiling at her auntie y/n" he chuckled lovingly when the baby did actually smile at you. It was a shy one at first but seeing you both so excited must've convinced him to allow you a bigger one, his eyes turning into crescents.
"He's so cute!" you whined overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment. "You want to hold him?" he looked at you, a little uncertain.
"I mean, uh..can I?" his gaze searching for one of the parents. At that point you started to feel your cheeks heat up a bit. You forgot that other people were even in the room!
"Sure, go ahead Y/n." your best friend responded with a knowing smile on her face. Still a little embarrassed for forgetting yourself, you gently passed the bundle in Hyunjin's arms. He fixed his position and put him against his chest. He was glad to be wearing a comfortable hoodie in that moment. You didn't say anything for a while, just exchanging silent looks with your boyfriend. The energy between you felt quite intense, but comfortable at the same time.
"See, you guys are already pros at this." you both turned your attention towards the voice. It was your best friend's, which currently had a pretty amused expression on her face. She sipped some juice from her straw and raised an eyebrow at you specifically. You took the hint and shrugged it off with a "Don't be silly, we've been here for five minutes and he was sleeping." you replied, choosing to keep it on the humorous side.
Hyunjin on the other hand was still happily and comfortably cradling the baby, whom seemed to have fallen back asleep in the meantime. You could tell that he started to feel an extra pair of eyes watching him so he decided that it was time to give the kid back to his own parents.
He carefully walked to the opposite end of the bed and with and awkward smile placed the baby back into his father's arms, exchanging a polite nod. He then stepped back again and joined your side, circling your waist with one hand.
"You are a very beautiful couple" one of the two older women commented, with the other jumping in quickly with "How long have you been together?" and "Are you married yet?".
You were a bit shocked at the sudden questions that the two women were throwing at you like dart to a target. You and Hyunjin exchanged a look, both unsure on how to answer. But gladly your friend's husband intervened in your place.
"Mom, stop being nosy. They've only been together for two years, they have plenty of time to think about these things, right?" you both nodded awkwardly.
"All right, all right. The grandmothers have been here all day, I think this our opportunity to say our goodbyes." one said, kissing her daughter on the head and then going towards the father and child to also plant a kiss on his cheek and the little one's head softly.
"Yes I agree, your father has already been waiting for me to get home for an hour. We'll come back tomorrow, my darling." the other lady got on her tippy toes to kiss her son and grandson on the cheek, and then quickly turning to bend down and hug the mom.
"It was a pleasure to meet you both." they got closer, jackets and handbags in hand ready to go. You and Hyunjin bowed your heads again politely. "For us too, ma'ams" your boyfriend replied, before you added a "Have a safe trip home, and good evening".
After that the two older ladies waved goodbye one more time and exited the room, closing the door behind them. You turned to your friend, slightly more comfortable now that you could talk more freely.
"How are you doing? How's the pain?" you reached the side of the bed, sitting opposite to her. She huffed and took another sip of water before replying "Well I mean, my vagina is in shambles right about now, if we want to get into the specifics" everyone laughed except Hyunjin that offered a tight lipped smile, being a little taken aback by your friend's bluntness.
"I am on good stuff now so I'm feeling pretty decently, God help me when the medication wear out though." she kept going. You laughed a bit and then looked up at her husband who was still lulling their son.
"It was worth it though, wasn't it?" you replied, more as a rethorical question than anything. She sighed deeply and reached out to hold the little baby's hand gently.
"Of course it was. He was worth everything." she said, love in her eyes and voice. She exchanged a look with her husband, whom was clearly silently agreeing. You decided to switch your own gaze to Hyunjin, leaving them their private moment.
But what you found was maybe even more intense: your boyfriend whom was now leaning against the wall opposite to you with his arms crossed, head slightly tilted to the side, and an intense expression on his face. You could never mistake the love in Hyunjin's eyes.
You felt your eyes getting teary again so you decided to stand back up and move around a bit, trying to shift the energy in the room.
"In any case, one thing is for sure, this baby boy will be his auntie's best friend. Isn't that right, sweetcheeks?" you smiled at the child that actually did smile back, and even let out a small chuckle.
"Oh wow! I fear that you may be right!" your friend joked, sending funny expressions towards her own baby. "But I don't want auntie y/n to steal you away!" she kept going, making you laugh carelessly, until she added another phrase that made you freeze.
"Hyune, when are you going to give her one of her own?" all the eyes were pointed at him. Your mouth slightly agape, not sure how to respond, but surprisingly his answer was quick and left everyone speechless for a moment.
"Whenever she wants." he replied nonchalant. After a few seconds he detached himself from the wall and calmly walked over the rest of them, caressing the baby's head one more time and then nodding in acknowledgment to both the mom and the dad. "Thank you for allowing us to meet your beautiful son, again, congrats".
He then walked over to you with a small smile,"I have to make a call now so I'll get going to the car. Y/n, you can come when you're ready." he placed a kiss on your mouth, caressed your cheek swiftly and then exited the room. A couple of moments of silence followed, everyone was speechless.
"Damn that was..." the husband began, "Hot." your friend finished the sentence. You picked up your jacket and got ready to say your goodbyes.
"Uh, I think I should go now." you said a little awkwardly, but all you got in return were amused smiles.
"Yes sure y/n, thank you for coming." the man said, leaning forward a bit to peck your cheek. You nodded in acknowledgement at him and waved a bit to the small baby. "Bye little one, let's meet soon" you cooed as he looked up at you with big eyes.
"Thank you for letting us come, and again congrats." you reached down to give your friend a quick hug.
"Yeah yeah of course. Now go to your man, he's waiting for you." then she made the phone sign mouthing at you to call her later. You rolled your eyes and said bye one more time before exiting the room and back to the path for the exit of the hospital.
Your mind was full of questions. You and Hyunjin have been together for about two years now, almost three, and yes you've had those casual questions that one usually asks in the first stages of dating. The ones that go "So are you searching for a serious commitment or do you just want to hook up for a couple of months and that's it?"
Those kind of selective, honest questions. In your case, you had both been clear from the beginning that you were searching for something important, that if evolved in the right direction may end up with some more stable future plans. But you never explicitly talked about getting married nor having a family together.
If you were to be honest, you wouldn't think about it twice. If he proposed to you tonight you would say yes, immediately. If he asked you to have a baby with him, you would immediately say yes. That's the level of love, affection and trust that you had in your relationship, you knew it and he did too. But everything always went on so...smoothly that you didn't even had to bring it up. But maybe tonight was the night.
Those were the thoughts that ran through your mind as you approached the car. Hyunjin was still outside, leaned on it and peacefully scrolling through his phone. His face illuminated by the artificial light in contrast to the reddish, pinkish and orange shades that were in the sky. The sun was setting.
As soon as he noticed your arrival he put the phone in his jeans' backpocket and offered you a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the lips. You melted into it for a couple of seconds, when he retreated.
"Shall we go?" he asked, making you nod. Always the gentlemen, he opened the car door for you and closed it once you were inside. Then he circled the car and got into his own driver's seat. In a couple of minutes he got out of the parking lot and then started driving.
You were in a comfortable silence, as you often were, but you could feel something lingering in the air, almost as if you were both waiting for the other to speak first. In the end you decided to at least start the conversation with something random, just to break the silence.
"Can I turn on the aircon?" his head turned quickly for a second towards you, then he extended his hand himself turning on the fresh air.
"Are you feeling hot?" he asked. His hand moved to rest on your thigh. It was a habit of his when you two were in the car. You were glad that he did that, lifting a bit of pressure from the situation. Or maybe it was you? Did you read too much into what he said?
"Y/n?" his voice reclaimed your attention making you realize that you forgot to respond to him.
"Uh, sorry honey. Yes, just a little." he side eyed you, squeezing your leg just slightly.
"Is something wrong?" his tone was confused but still gentle. You shook your head, taking the hand that was on your thigh and stroking it a little to reassure him.
"No no...I was just lost in thought." you answered, waiting a couple of seconds to continue, "I was very glad to see her doing so well, And the baby, too. So cute, isn't he?" He nodded, smiling softly while keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah. I expected some crying though" he laughed softly and you joined him.
"Well, you were very good. He even smiled at you! You're already friends." you joked, still keeping your tone lighthearted. His smile was a bit more serious though. His gaze landed on you for a few seconds.
"You also did very well." he said with sincerity, "We'll do very well." you head snapped in his direction when he said that. He noticed for sure but chose to play it off. You didn't realize that you were already home.
"What do you mean?" you blurted out. He cleared his throat, a blush starting to creep on his cheeks. He maneuvered the car and parked in front of the building. He waited until the car was off and in place to talk. Then he finally turned his body to you,
"I just mean...you know-" he seemed to struggle a bit with his words but you waited patiently. Deep inside you, you already knew where this conversation was going but the amount of emotions that came with it weren't easy to handle.
"I mean that we would probably do a good job in a situation like this. That is of course if you'll want to be with me to experience it." he finally said, a little quickly maybe, but each and every word sank in perfectly in your mind.
"Yes" the response was immediate, "Of course I want to be with you. Of course I would love to have a family with you. I love you so much, Hyunjin. Like I've never loved anyone, ever" you were getting a little choked up, but he just smiled brightly and then leaned in to kiss you softly. Both of his hands going up to cup your cheeks.
"So, if I supposedly asked you to marry me right now..." his eyes, so sweet and hopeful, looking into yours. You smiled, laughing both in happiness and at the absolute absurdity of the situation.
"Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" you both laughed and kissed again. His eyes were also getting shiny with emotion.
"I'm going to ask you again properly, ring and everything, I promise." he said, making you chuckle. "I just think that the moment was right." you nodded in agreement, also cupping his cheek.
"I know, I love you" Hyunjin kissed you one more time, lingering for a couple more seconds, then rested his forehead against yours.
"I love you too, so much."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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doritochoi · 18 days
Text
Fashion trip | K.H
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pairing: fem!reader x kim hongjoong!founder of Balmain
warnings: dom!hongjoong, teasing, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, eating pussy, + much more
word count: 4.5k
a/n: Hi friends <3 It took me an extremely long time to post this :(( I had it in draft for a while because i had some exams, so i couldn't finish it, but now it's ready. Leave me suggestions for any story ideas in the comments. Love you 🫶🏻🫶🏻
You were a young designer looking for a chance to make your name known in the fashion world. With each creation, you poured your heart into the hope that someone would notice your talent and passion for design. Every morning, you woke up with the same thought: "that long-awaited invitation would soon arrive, opening the door to greater opportunities."
On a normal day, as you lay in your small, cushy bed, you twisted in the covers, trying to push away your thoughts of doubt. Eyes bleary from sleep and heart full of hope, you picked up your phone and started scrolling through your messages and notifications. A new message appeared on the screen, feeling a wave of excitement run through your entire body. You hit the message icon and read with wide eyes and a hopeful heart:
"Hi! We are from the Balmain fashion house! We noticed some of your creations and would like you to work with us. To discuss more, we invite you to "Glamour Lounge" restaurant, next Saturday at 19:00pm"
With your heart pounding in your chest and a mix of emotions, you felt the need to make sure you weren't dreaming. You blinked several times, still looking at your phone screen, but the message remained there, confirming the reality of that incredible invitation to work together. Your smile was hard to erase, immersed in a state of deep awe and gratitude. But beneath this excitement of realizing your professional dream, hides an intimate secret: your adoration for Kim Hongjoong, the founder of Balmain. Handsome and charismatic, he was not only a talented designer but also the subject of your secret adoration. You admire him not only for his amazing creations, but also for his captivating aura and the way he exudes confidence and power in every appearance.
While others are captivated by his glittering creations, you were especially fascinated by every detail of his person- from his charming smile to his penetrating gaze. Even in this moment of professional triumph, you couldn't help but think about him and how collaborating with Balmain might somehow bring you closer to him. You always had a special connection with his creations, especially the "Balmain Uma Sandals", a pair of shoes that you considered not just a piece of footwear, but a work of art in itself. Every step you took in those sandals, you felt like you were entering Kim Hongjoong's world, at least for a while. With each passing second, your emotions were between excitement and anxiety. The big day of the Balmain collaboration was approaching, and you were extremely excited about the opportunity to showcase your creativity and passion face-to-face with the fashion house's prestigious team. However, you dreamed of meeting him, even for a moment, to express your gratitude for his influence in your life and to share your passion for his creations.
You prepared for the meeting, and chose your outfit carefully. A velvet dress that undulated your body in a delicate dance, hugging your shape and accentuating your grace in a subtle yet charming way. Step by step, you walked towards the door, and every eye that fell on you was captivated by your elegance and sophistication. A lovely lady approaches you with a warm smile and says politely: "Please follow me, this is our reserved table. Mr. Kim will be right there, he had a problem, but I assure you he will be here soon.", What did she say? Kim Hongjoong it will be there..? What are you going to do? What are you going to say?Questions invade your mind, leaving you without answers and without direction. You try to regain your composure, taking deep breaths and trying to remember that this is the moment you've been waiting for.
As you awaited on the chair, a figure loomed in the distance, entering through the restaurant's massive door. It was him, Kim Hongjoong in all his glory, dressed in a flawless black suit. You couldn't help but notice how perfectly it matched your outfit, almost like you were a couple. His blond hair, styled with care and precision, added an extra touch of elegance and sophistication to his already impressive appearance. Your expert eye for detail couldn't help but notice the fragrance that seemed to accompany it, giving off a subtle and irresistible aroma. The same lady also led him to the table, this time sitting across from you. He looked charming in his impeccable suit. After the lady leaved, he got up from the table and came over to you, gracefully bending down and kissing your hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you", he had told you in such a charming voice that it was as if all worries and uncertainties melted away in front of that warm and comforting presence. You were extremely shy, unable to say anything or look at him, but he was noticing the way you were acting and how you were making efforts to maintain eye contact. He liked the way you were sitting and with a warm smile, he began to cough, breaking the silence. "Do you want anything to drink?" His question broke the interruption and brought a touch of normalcy to the atmosphere. “Something refreshing would be perfect, thanks”, you managed to reply, your voice a little shaky, but still full of gratitude. Even in this moment of anxiety, you couldn't help but notice how polite and kind he was. After getting the drinks, the atmosphere became more relaxed. “Hmm, I'd be curious to see some of your creations,” he said, looking at you with interest. With a shaky voice and heart pounding in your chest, you pulled some sketches and photos of your latest designs out of your bag. You could feel your hands shaking as you held them out for him. Hongjoong took each creation in his hands, examining them carefully. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at you and smiled. "I have never seen anyone with such remarkable talent as yours," he said sincerely. "Your creativity and passion can be found in every detail. You are truly remarkable.”. "It would be very nice to work for us,” he said with a warm smile. You were speechless, unable to believe what you were hearing. What? Working for Balmain? This was far beyond any dream you could have had. Your eyes were shining with gratitude and happiness, you managed to regain some control over your emotions and express your gratitude: "It is an incredible honor. I am extremely excited and honored to be part of the Balmain team. Thank you for this amazing opportunity.”
As the conversations flowed naturally, you couldn't help but notice the subtle details that caught your attention. The veins on Hongjoong's hand, outlined under the skin, looked so sexy… You could imagine how his fingers could do much more than just hold that glass in his hand. Time was passing and the evening was getting longer. Just as you decided it was time to leave, you realized a heavy storm had broken out outside. The rain prevented any attempt to get outside, and if you did, you would have been completely drenched. Walking out of the restaurant and facing the rain, you let out a disappointed sigh and started looking for a taxi on your phone. But before you could do anything, you felt a hand on your tiny waist and then someone placed an umbrella over your head. It was him..Kim Hongjoong was holding your waist and staying so close to you. "Would you like me to drive you? It would be more comfortable for you, especially in this storm.”, with your heart pounding and a slightly shy smile, you replied, “Yes, I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Hongjoong.” Looking at him, you were overwhelmed by his gallant gesture and the care he showed towards you on this unpredictable evening. As you sat comfortably in his car, eyes fixed on the wet and cloudy road, you couldn't help but feel a bit excited, the fact that you were there with Hongjoong, watching him drive. It was like a dream come true. But in the midst of these thoughts, you realized that your home was quite far away, and taking you there in this storm didn't seem very reasonable. In a moment of hesitation, you started to tell him that he shouldn't bother you so much, but he quickly intervened. "You can come to my house," he proposed with a gentle smile. "It's much closer and wouldn't be a problem at all." You were speechless at his suggestion. To stay at Hongjoong's house? This idea seemed unreal, almost too good to be true. However, you tried to push yourself away from the bold thought, politely declining. “I can't bother you like this,” you said quickly, trying to justify your refusal. "I'm sure it's not a good idea." But he gently insisted: "It's not a problem for me at all. I would be honored to have you as a guest. Please accept.”, you were looking down and fiddling with your fingers, still feeling unsure about this unexpected situation. He took your hand in his, making you look up at him slightly. His eyes bore into you with a comforting warmth, admiring every feature of your face. “Everything will be fine,” he said gently, with a warm smile that brought you peace and confidence. Feeling the warmth of his hand and looking into his eyes, you felt like you could put your fears to rest and let yourself be carried away. You confidently accepted that everything was going to be fine.
When you got to his house and looked out the window, you were amazed at the beauty of his house. It was an imposing residence with elegant architecture and huge garden. You couldn't help but notice the luxury and wealth that emanated from every detail of his home. You felt like you had invaded his personal space, and the thought made you feel uncomfortable and insecure. You managed to erase the negative thoughts from your mind and entered his house. It was perfect in every aspect, every detail of the furniture seemed to be chosen especially for him. You admired with awe and slight envy the elegance and sophistication, wondering what it would be like to live in such a luxurious environment every day. With a gentle gesture, Hongjoong took your hand and gave you a warm smile. "You can stay in the guest room. Call me if you need anything!", he said kindly, pointing the way to it. You replied with a grateful smile and a slight tilt of your head, "Thank you, Hongjoong."
You entered in the guest room and flopped onto the bed, closing your eyes. You silently let out all the joy and excitement you were feeling, squealing slightly in happiness as a smile crept up your face. It was an incredible experience to be there in Hongjoong's house but you knew you had to keep a certain distance. You wanted to be close to him, get to know him better and spend time together, but you knew you had to be reserved and not reveal too much of your feelings. Even though you were trying to fall asleep, your thoughts were still captured by Hongjoong's figure. You couldn't get the image of him standing there in that perfect suit with irresistible elegance out of your mind. You wanted so badly to take off his tie and kiss the soft skin of his neck, leaving small tender marks. In the morning, you woke up with a big smile on your face. Thinking about what you dreamed last night, its making you blushing. You were in Hongjoong's bed and he was fucking you, making you to scream his name louder. His every touch, every kiss, every gesture seemed to be filled with tenderness and love, and your desire to be real was overwhelming.
You got out of bed, attracted by an inviting smell that filled the house. Without thinking too much, you followed that delicious aroma into the kitchen. When you got there, you discovered some freshly made pancakes on the table. You looked at the pancakes and bent down slightly to examine them better, noting their perfectly round shape and matching color. You were impressed with the way they looked. Returning to your starting position, you suddenly felt something hard hit your back. You immediately turned around to see Hongjoong in front of you, dressed only in a robe. Drops of water dripped down his well-sculpted chest, a sign that he had just stepped out of the shower. His wet hair accentuated his beauty, giving him a cool and vibrant air. You were trying not to look down, to stay calm, but you weren't doing very well, and he could tell that. Your expression betrayed a slight uneasiness and he noticed every detail. He leaned in, noticing that you were a little agitated, which showed in your eyes."Did I scare you?", you felt that he was very close to you and the desire to touch him and get closer to him was strong. You wanted to push him down on the table and get closer, kiss him all over to show him how much you wanted him. Still, you knew you had to keep distance.He wasn't just anyone, and you had to respect the boundaries.
You nodded that you weren't scared, but he didn't seem pleased with your answer. “Words, princess,” he said in a firm tone, making you blush at the nickname. He loved teasing you and you could see it on his face. His subtle smile and twinkle in his eye showed that he was having fun teasing you and enjoying your reactions. It was obvious that he was comfortable around you and enjoying your company. His provocation accentuated the butterflies in your stomach and amplified the erotic tension between you.​ "N-no you didnt scare me... actually i wanted to thank you for everything..." ,you said awkwardly, looking down and avoiding his beautiful eyes that captivated you. He showed his determination, smiling slightly as he spoke, “I already told you not to thank me… there's no need. Eat something so I can take you home.” You hesitated to accept the offer to take you home again, not wanting to seem too rude. "Okay, then be ready tomorrow. We're going to Paris for a fashion show,” he added, looking at you with a determined expression and anticipating the next day full of excitement and opportunity.
Leaving his house, you thought about what will happen tomorrow. It will be a long day and full of many surprises. You were going to a fashion show with your fucking crush and no you weren't dreaming. You didn't even get to ask him how long you were staying there or how you should dress...You felt terrible, feeling like you weren't ready for this important moment. You arrived home and eagerly waited for the time to pass faster until tomorrow.
You woke up in the morning and carefully went to do your usual routine. Then, you started choosing what to wear for this special day. You chose a cute pink mini dress with delicate flowers that accentuated your beautiful smile and positive energy. You put on light make-up, emphasizing the sparkle of your eyes and the fresh look of your skin. After you finished getting ready, you took a cab and headed to the airport. There, you spotted Hongjoong, waiting for you with a bright smile. Your gaze lit up when you saw his familiar figure and the emotions within you rose in a pleasant way.Each step towards him, you could feel the excitement and impatience growing. You had in front of you a day you had been waiting for a long time, with the person you admire so much. The flight was quite normal. You have arrived in Paris and went to the hotel. It was an extremely elegant and luxurious location, which was no surprise considering Hongjoong's financial status. He had chosen one of the most popular and exclusive hotels in town. The hotel was impressive, with a sophisticated atmosphere and great design. It was equipped with a huge swimming pool and other luxurious facilities, giving you a memorable and relaxing experience.
As you arrived at the fancy hotel, reality was starting to hit you. You found out that the fashion show you were going to attend, was taking place there. Even though it was an incredible opportunity, you felt a slight anxiety. You weren't used to being in the middle of large crowds of people and the thought of attending such an important event made you feel a little scared. The crowd began to gather and the guests took their seats to wait for the fashion show to begin. You were there but with your mind elsewhere, only thinking about Hongjoong. Feeling bored and wanting to have some fun, you headed to the nearby bar. You chose the most popular drink there, an exotic cocktail called "Parisian Dream", an elegant drink that was a favorite of many in that select location. Returning to your seat, your eyes were drawn to the immense beauty of the pool nearby. It was an impressive pool with matching colors of red and gold that exuded elegance and luxury. You really wanted to relax and cool off, so without thinking too much, you decided to get into the pool. Luck was on your side as you were wearing a bathing suit under your gorgeous dress just in case. You took off your delicate dress and walked down the steps to the crystal clear water, feeling how the water envelops your body. As you let yourself be carried away by the relaxing sensations of the water, you felt a slight movement nearby. At first you didn't give it any importance, but you became aware that someone was now in front of you. You slowly opened your eyes and were shocked, standing frozen there. It was Hongjoong, standing extremely close to you. It was so close that your bodies were a step away from touching. Looking at him, you were mesmerized by his flawless appearance. The drops of water were sliding down the chest that you admired for a long time. The whole scene seemed unreal but fascinating at the same time. With a light movement, Hongjoong moved his hand to your cheek and began to caress you gently. His palms ran over your skin with a soft and tender touch. "If you wanted to relax you could tell me…" ,he said in a warm deep voice. “N-no… I was just drawn to the way the pool looks…” ,you started to stutter, heart pounding in your chest. You could easily read the amused smile on Hongjoong's face and that made you feel even more embarrassed. "Are you sure only the pool?", he pulled you even closer as his hands settled on your hips. His breath was warm as he murmurs into your ear "Stop lying, princess". His grip was firm yet gentle. The mixture of emotions made your head spin as he gently turned your body around, leaving your back exposed to him. "I know that you want me" ,he moves his hand down slowly, letting his finger lightly brush against your panties and gently rubbing in, causing you to feel things you have never felt before. Your body trembles and shivers with excitement as he continues, slowly teasing you. His touch is light but firm, creating a mixture of sensations that leave you breathlessly helpless in his grip. His voice is breathy and full of desire as he slowly starts roaming his hands all over your body, gently exploring every inch of you. He gently kisses your neck, sending a shivers through your spine. "We should go somewhere else..." he breaths again, this time slightly louder. "Let's continue this in a different place...somewhere more private..."
He slowly takes you into his room at the hotel. There is a slight hint of excitement in his eyes as he closes the door with his leg, slowly sliding you onto the bed "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, lips finding their way to your exposed neck and placing wet kisses onto your sensitive flesh. You moaned involuntarily as a wave of pleasure washed over you, igniting a fire deep within. He continued to caress your body, his hands roaming over your bra and down around your waist, squeezing your firm ass and pulling you closer still. You could feel the hardness of his cock straining against his pants, pressing against your stomach. With a flick of his fingers, he unclipped your bra and let it slide off, allowing your heavy breasts to spill free. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, causing you to gasp and moan with pleasure. His hands continued to wander, one coming up to squeeze your other breast while the other slid down your body, finding its way to the aching wetness between your thighs. You let out a low moan as his fingers grazed your clit through the wet fabric of your panties. He continued to tease your clit with his fingers until you were panting with need, begging for more. With a wicked grin, he slipped his fingers beneath your panties and plunged them deep inside your wet, aching core. You cried out in pleasure, arching your back as he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky with lust. "Yes, fuck yes," you panted, your hips grinding against his fingers as he plunged them deep inside of you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building in your core, until you thought you might explode from the pleasure. But just as you were about to reach your climax, Hongjoong pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you panting and whining in frustration. "Not yet, my little slut," he smirked, standing up and towering over you. His eyes were dark and filled with desire as he took in the sight of your naked and aching body. "You don't get to come until I'm inside you.", you whimpered in frustration, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and let them drop to the floor. His hard cock sprang free, already slick with pre-cum. You licked your lips at the sight, eager to taste him. "Beg for it," he commanded in a low and commanding voice. You looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Hongjoong. I need you inside me. I can't wait any longer.", he smirked, his eyes glinting with satisfaction at your desperation. "Beg for it," he repeated, emphasizing each word. "Please, fuck me. I need you so badly, I'll do anything. Just please, give me your cock," you moaned, spreading your legs wider in invitation. With a growl, he stepped closer, positioning his cock at your entrance. You whimpered in anticipation, your hips bucking up in a desperate attempt to take him inside of you. But he had other plans. Instead of plunging into you, he teased your entrance, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit and causing you to gasp with pleasure. "You want it that badly?" he taunted, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he continued to torment you. Finally, Hongjoong couldn't resist your pleading any longer.
With one thrust, he buried his cock deep inside of you, filling you completely. You both let out a low moan as he began to move, his hips thrusting against you with a primal force. The sound of your bodies slapping together echoed through the room, punctuated by your moans and swear words, as he fucked you senseless. The headboard banged against the wall, adding a rhythmic pulse to the room. Hongjoong's thrusts became more forceful, his hips snapping against yours as he took you with wild abandon. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, you feel so goddamn good," he muttered, his dirty words setting off a fire of dirty thoughts in your mind. He quickened his pace, slamming into you over and over again. You threw your head back and let out a loud moan, your body trembling with pleasure. The feeling of him deep inside of you was almost too much to bear, but you didn't want it to end. As you moved together in perfect rhythm, your bodies slick with sweat, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You could tell he was too - his thrusts became more ragged, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "Come for me, Y/n," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your skin. You let out a loud moan as you come, your body shaking with pleasure. Hongjoong follows shortly after, emptying himself inside you with a loud groan. He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy. He kisses you softly, his lips lingering on yours. "That was amazing, princess" ,you smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. "It was, Joong," you reply, your fingers tracing patterns on his back. He begins to clean you up, his fingers gentle as they trace your folds. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you. "I don't want this moment to end," he says, his voice filled with love and care. "Neither do I, " you reply, your head resting on his chest. And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but feel like this is the start of something beautiful.
~ THE END ~
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