#the burden that was lifted when i found a name for what i am and the possibility of living without having to be with men
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people who think labels are limiting and we shouldn't have to define anything about our selves like. well. the term lesbian defines me perfectly and the realisation that there were people like me and a community who shares my struggles and experiences was the most freeing moment of my life
#i know it's a personal thing but there's people who won't even refer to me as a lesbian irl who are progressive in their views#the burden that was lifted when i found a name for what i am and the possibility of living without having to be with men#anyway ive had some wine and this probably doesn't make sense but i love being a lesbian and calling myself a lesbian#and people knowing what that means when i say it#ok to rb
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we found wonderland
Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.
Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 2.4K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.
What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.
Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.
You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”
“Is it so crazy I want us together?”
You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”
“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”
You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”
“Are you thinking of a break up already?”
You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”
“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”
You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.
“You know what I want?”
“What?”
“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.
“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”
He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”
You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”
You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.
“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”
You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”
“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”
Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.
Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.
“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”
“I c-can feel that.”
“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.
“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”
You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”
“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”
You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.
“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”
“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.
You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder.
“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”
Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”
“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”
And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.
“Baby…”
“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.
“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.
“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”
It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.
There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.
“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.
“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”
That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”
“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.
“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”
“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”
“I’m your naughty girl, James.”
“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.
“F-faster.”
Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.
“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”
“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”
He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.
But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.
And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.
“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”
“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.
“Whose come?”
“Y-yours.”
“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”
“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”
“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”
You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”
He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.
“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”
“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”
“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”
A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.
Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.
“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.
“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”
“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”
You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.
“You came too.”
You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”
“Alright.”
*
Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.
You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.
At this point, what do you really have?
“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”
Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.
“Baby, why are you outside?”
You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.
“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”
He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.
It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.
Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.
“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”
And then he calls your name.
You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.
“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”
William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.
You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!
And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.
He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.
You finally did it! You’re free.
You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”
“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.
“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”
He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.
You’re going to be okay.
Tags:
@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624 @cjand10 @mayusenpai666 @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan @igotmajordaddyissues
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#boyfriend's brother!bucky#boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes#forbidden#fake dating#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#sebastian stan#my fanfics#my stories#marvel fanfics#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n
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💘 Some important tips for each Nakshatra : Never to Do Tips 💘
DISCLAIMER The author name is at the end. I do not remember where I found it unfortunately (it was in my notes app for months fr 😭) tho I know I am supposed to share my knowledge as much as I can and not be a gatekeeper so here it is . I hope it will help you (if you know the author let me know too with the name down below) 💜
Ashwini : Never loose an opportunity to help people in your life, you will meet and learn some very important techniques from a reputed and respected person.
Bharani : Do not share your secrets with anyone. Self control is must.
Krittika : Stand by Truth. Do not entertain, liars, fakers or cheaters or not even try to possess those traits.
Rohini : Don't get too much attached with anything, attachment will cause havoc.
Mrigashira : Do not get disconnected with your parents or family.
Ardra : Learn to work under distractions and pressure. Stay calm in chaos.
Punarvasu : Never disobey Dharma (purpose), always stick to your commitments, you get divine support of universe.
Pushya : Do not ignore your family or your dear one needs while handling bigger responsibilities or social cause. Take out time for them.
Ashlesha : Never misuse your power & Never Curse anyone.
Magha : Never ignore your Pitris (your ancestors). Always do charity in their names.
Purva Phalguni : Avoid getting too much indulgent in pleasures, do your duty faithfully.
Uttara Phalguni : Never break your relationship & Be Kartavya Prayan (loyal).
Hasta : Never get carried away with failure, that's ladder of success for you.
Chitra : Never doubt your potential & don't act impulsive, else you will end up hurting with self.
Swati : Do not poke powerful authorities. Try to stay away from leg pulling.
Vishaka : Never leave the Marg of Bhakti (total faith and devotion) & Keep remembering Bhagwan (the Most High/God).
Anuradha: Never get distracted with too much darkness, sooner or later it's worth experiencing.
Jyeshta : Never misuse your authorities & power, one single mistake can ruin everything.
Mula : Don't get panic, when burdened with lots of negativity, that's the process of bringing clarity, like storm before calm.
Purva Ashadha : Not every war is to win, some are supposed to lift you up. In both victory or defeat you gonna be the same.
Uttara Ashadha : Following Dharma (career/purpose) is right but having a superiority complex can harm you in longer run.
Shravana : Tied up with lots of responsibilities & helplessness, we are born to live or die for a divine purpose, just give your best.
Dhanishta : Never boast or avoid beating the drum of success before its completion.
Shatabhisha : Never sell your soul for gains and profit. Things will turn negative for you.
Purva Bhadrapada : Never rush into conclusion cause what looks on the surface might not be real, try to see deep within. There lies solution.
Uttara Bhadrapada : Simplicity beautifies you, wear it and own it.
Revati : You are the Messenger of God & Bhakt (faith/worship/love). Showing path to directionless people is your real gem. Never sell superstition or blind faiths.
Author :
Mann ki Baat Trishna
Note from the author : Above points are just an observation with my best of understanding.
#vedic astro notes#vedicknowledge#ashwini#bharani#krittika#rohini#mrigashira#ardra#purnarvasu#pushya#ashlesha#magha#purva phalguni#uttara phalguni#hasta nakshatra#chitra#swati#vishaka#anuradha#jyestha#mula#purva ashadha#uttara ashadha#shravana#dhanishta#shatabhisha#purva bhadrapada#uttara bhadrapada#revati#fypツ
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to flee or not to flee, part five
anthony bridgerton x OC
what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?
tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn
tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts, nsfw (wedding night scene), mentions of scars and past abuse.
masterlist
see playlist for the story here!
The rest of the week was a blur after Annalise had accepted the viscount’s proposal. She could barely keep up with Lady Bridgerton and Daphne and the speed with which they planned the wedding. They’d travel back to Mayfair tomorrow to prepare for the wedding which was set to take place on the Friday of the upcoming week. Invites had been sent the morning after the viscount – Anthony, he’d insisted Annalise call him – announced the news. Lady Bridgerton nearly fainted in excitement, simply ecstatic that her eldest son was finally set to marry. She and Daphne immediately snatched Annalise away from the rest of the family, questioning her on all her favorite things to ensure the wedding would be to her taste.
Annalise lay in bed that night, relieved to finally have a moment to herself. Once the wedding plans were set, Thomas hadn’t said a word to Annalise. She supposed she should have expected it, Annalise was nothing but a burden to Thomas from the moment their parents died – she was another man’s burden now. Still, her brother’s neglect hurt, her eyes stinging with tears as she thought about how utterly alone she was. No mother to hold her, explain to her what she should expect of married life. No father to give her away with a kiss on her forehead.
A gentle knock on the door pulled Annalise out of her thoughts. She sat up, wiping away the tears with the backs of her hands.
“Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse.
It was Anthony who opened the door, peering inside with a smile.
“I’m not interrupting am I?”
Annalise sniffled, “No, not at all Lor-” Anthony narrowed his eyes at her.
“Anthony,” the name felt foreign on her tongue.
He smiled, walked towards her, and took a seat next to her. When he noticed the red around her nose and puffy eyes, his smile fell, replaced with furrowed brows.
“What’s wrong?” He said his hand on the small of her back. She shivered at the touch.
She inhaled, “Nothing, I suppose I’m just nervous is all.”
He tilted his head, not entirely convinced with her answer.
“Your brother hasn’t spoken with you all week” he deduced, seeing right through Annalise.
Her eyes fell to the floor.
“Annalise,” He lifted her chin with a single finger, “let me tell you a little secret” He smiled.
“One of the perks of becoming a Bridgerton is that you now have three annoying, meddlesome but loving brothers at your disposal. Benedict has already grown quite fond of you. They’re all glad that you’re to join our family," he continued.
She couldn’t hold back the tears that fell from her eyes, eliciting a hushing coo from Anthony who wiped away the tears as they fell. When that didn’t stop her tears, he pulled her into his chest protectively. She sank into his embrace, shoulders shaking, now full-on sobbing. He only held her, fingers raking through her hair, until she calmed.
She pulled away, “My apologies, I didn't mean to be a burden – and oh!" She sighed, "I ruined your coat,” tears welled in her eyes again, looking down at the wet patch on his lapels, emitting a soft laugh from the man before her.
“Annalise,” he waited until she looked up at him again before continuing, “you are no burden, you are to be my wife and I intend to make you a happy one at that” he touched his forehead to hers, his hands held her face. After she’d calmed again, he brought her forehead to his lips, pressing a soft kiss.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
They returned to Mayfair the next day, Annalise found herself already missing the country air. She sat in the drawing room, waiting for her brother – the butler had sent for her, informing her that Thomas needed to speak with her. The doors opened and he walked in, Annalise rose but he waved a hand motioning for her to remain seated. He took a seat in front of her after grabbing a glass and filling it with a drink.
He cleared his throat, “Annalise. I’m not entirely sure how you managed to catch the eye of the viscount but no matter, now that you are set to marry you must know your duty is to produce an heir as soon as you can to secure your position as viscountess” he said, not a hint of warmth in his voice – only cold, distant calculation.
Annalise was taken aback. It’d been nearly two weeks since he’d spoken to her and this was the first thing he said?
“Do you understand?” He barked, impatient.
She nodded, unable to gather the proper words to voice what she wanted to say to him.
He clapped his hands, “Well, congratulations then.” With that, he rose, leaving just as quickly as he’d arrived.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Anthony watched Annalise stare out the carriage her fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the beads of her bodice. He wished there was something he could say that’d rid her of all her worries and fears. If only it were as easy as saying a few words. He learned quite early on that Annalise did not believe in words, throughout their week at Aubrey Hall before the wedding, he tried his absolute hardest to get her to see that he meant no harm. To his surprise, it worked, even if it was only a little. She no longer stiffened at his touch or avoided his gaze. He’d have to be patient and Anthony was content with that. As long as Annalise felt safe, he’d wait an eternity if need be.
He could see Aubrey Hall in the distance. Annalise turned to him, brows furrowed and lips parted. She wanted to say something but he could see her hesitance.
“Yes?” He encouraged her.
“Why did you pardon Thomas from providing a dowry?”
Ah. “I think it’s quite clear I am in no need of one.”
She wasn’t satisfied, “then why did you provide payment to Thomas?”
Anthony sighed, “I did what I had to do to ensure your brother would not be a hindrance to my proposal.”
He hoped this would be enough for her. She was already heartbroken by her brother’s behavior during the past week, he did not want to add to that heartbreak by telling her of her brother's plans to marry her off to another man who'd promised payment.
She turned away, satisfied enough for now he assumed. The entire ride she’d been silent and now that he’d heard her voice, he yearned for more.
“What did my family say about me when you were conducting your interrogations of them? I’d wager they voiced some disdain?” He asked.
“They had some grievances,” she said with a teasing smile on her face. God, he’d do anything to see more of the smile that brought him to his knees.
“But rest assured, your sisters adore you. And your brothers admire you very much. You raised them well.”
His brows rose in surprise. He’d half expected her time with his siblings to deter her from his proposal and point out every little flaw Anthony possessed. The carriage stopped, signaling their arrival. Anthony stepped out of the carriage first, offering a hand to Annalise after.
“Welcome home, Lady Bridgerton,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand – eliciting yet another timid smile from his wife as she took in the view before her. Anthony gazed at the woman before him, she was entirely unaware of the way she made his heart swell. No matter, she’ll find out soon enough.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Night had fallen, and the stars glistened in the sky as Annalise gazed up at the sky from her seat at the windowsill. Much of the afternoon was spent with the maids, setting up her belongings in the master bedroom while Anthony left to tend to some business as viscount. She looked around, pastel blue and gold peppered the room, and her eyes fell to the bed – her stomach fluttered. Violet paid her a visit before the wedding, she’d wanted to explain the matters of the wedding night to her. Though she was vague, Annalise understood the basics of what she’d meant to say and it caused knots in her stomach every time she remembered the duty she must fulfill. She repeatedly reminded herself that Anthony had been nothing but gentle and patient with her, that it would be alright but it was no use. She couldn’t quell the anxiety rising to the surface.
As if on cue, the doorknob turned and Anthony entered. Like that night in the library, he’d abandoned his coat and vest. Dressed only in a shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up and hair disheveled. He looked divine. She found it difficult to look away, caught in a daze as he approached her. A hand snaked up the side of her neck, finding the nape and pulling her in for a kiss.
Oh.
Butterflies swarmed her stomach, feeling lightheaded as he kissed her.
“Hello wife,” he murmured against her lips, lips curved into a smile.
She looked up at him, cheeks heating up. When she didn’t respond, he bent down, arms wrapped around her lower body as he lifted her and moved them over to the bed.
“Anthony!” She squealed in surprise, a laugh escaping her.
He placed her on the bed, she rested up on her elbows but before she could speak any further, he knocked her arms down causing her to fall back onto the plush pillows underneath. She giggled, trying to swat his hands away to no avail, he wrapped his hands around the backs of her knees, yanking her towards him at the edge of the bed. She stared up at him, mouth agape at his impatience.
“You,” he leaned down, “are,” his lips trailed her jaw, pausing for a moment before continuing. He kissed gently at a sensitive spot underneath her jaw, moving down to her neck leaving a burning path of kisses. His breath tickled her skin. She shuddered.
“Exquisite,” he finished. He returned to her face, lips meeting hers in a feverish kiss while his hands trailed up her arms, leaving goosebumps all over her skin. He pulled at the front of her robe, eager to be rid of the fabric boundary between them. She stirred, breaking the kiss. Her hands shot down to his.
“Wait!” She exclaimed, breathless from the kiss.
He looked down at her in confusion but halted his advances. She dragged herself up, making room for her to sit up on the bed. Her hair fell over her shoulders, grateful for the extra cover they provided her. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly self-conscious and afraid of what he’d think of her imperfections. He sat in front of her, the bed shifted with his weight.
“What is it? Are you afraid? We can wait, if you’d like,” he reassured, he reached for her hands.
Their hands intertwined, he brought one of hers up to his lips and placed a kiss into her palm.
“No - it’s just that,” she hesitated, at a loss for words.
“Annalise, whatever it is you can tell me,” he whispered, eyes searching her face.
She inhaled, bracing herself.
“I’m afraid you’ll find me unpleasing,” she admitted, looking away from him.
He instantly took her face in his hands, forcing her attention back to him.
“You are bewitching, Annalise. There’s not a woman in the world who can compare to your beauty. Look at me,” he commanded, eyes dark with desire.
She held his gaze, “I have scars.”
Pain flashed across his face at her confession. His eyes searched her face, brow set in determination.
“Do you trust me?” He asked.
She only nodded.
“I need you to say it, Annalise,” eyes narrowing to emphasize his point.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
His hands made their way back to her waist, at the front of her robe where he held them for a moment. He looked at her once again, waiting for her confirmation. She nodded. He wasted no time in undoing the robe, letting it slip off her shoulders. She shivered at the sudden rush of air against her bare skin. He moved her hair out of the way and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“Turn around.”
She obeyed, turning towards the pillows and away from the man who was driving her crazy with need.
He gently guided her down to the bed, laying her on her stomach. Her bare back faced him and she wiggled as his hands traced down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut as she steadied her breathing. She felt him lean down, he started kissing across her shoulders, down her spine until he reached the bottom of her torso. A tear slipped from her eyes when she realized what he was doing.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Anthony winced when he saw the scars peppering his wife’s fair skin. She was so delicate. He couldn’t imagine the horrors she’d been through which led to the marks across her skin. Some were long, some were short, some were circles – cigar burns he realized. His vision turned red, rage filling his chest. He inhaled deeply. Thomas would pay for his abuse. But right now, his wife needed him. He pushed away thoughts of revenge as he laid kisses on Annalise’s back. He felt her shudder with each kiss as he made his way down her back, taking great care to place a kiss on each and every scar, he intended to make her forget about the pain she’d endured all these years.
Once he’d finished peppering her back with kisses, he turned her around to face him. Her eyes were teary but she smiled, leaning up from the pillow to kiss him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His own hands trailed down to her waist, pulling her into an embrace. He needed to be closer, closer. He pulled away, eliciting a whine from the beautiful girl beneath him.
“Oh, just a moment you minx,” he teased.
He lifted his shirt over his head and undid his trousers. Annalise’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest.
“Annalise,” he bent down to kiss her once more, “this may hurt. If, at any moment you feel discomfort, please tell me and I will stop at once” he held her gaze to emphasize his point.
“I promise,” she nodded.
“Good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss on her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks. He wanted to devour her when she blushed like that.
He prepared himself, positioning himself against her. She wiggled nervously, looking up at him in anticipation. He pushed forward, sinking into absolute bliss. He kept himself from groaning as he scanned Annalise’s face for signs of discomfort. Her face scrunched at the sudden invasion but she let out a moan and he lost all restraint. He pushed forward again, watching her carefully. He caught her lips in a burning kiss as they continued. Anthony hadn’t known pleasure like this despite all the women he’d been with in the past. He could spend the rest of his life sinking deeper into the magnificent woman before him and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
Annalise spent the next few weeks learning to be a viscountess and visiting the townspeople who lived under Anthony’s jurisdiction. She spent the days managing the day to day affairs of their estate while the nights were reserved for her husband and his endless doting of her. She fell deeper and deeper in love with him as the days passed. She'd almost forgotten about her past until a reminder came knocking on her door.
“My lady, there’s a visitor here to see you.”
She made her way to the door, curious as to who could possibly be visiting her. She stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother standing at the doorway, waiting for an invitation to come in.
“Thomas,” she said in surprise.
“Hello, sister. May I come in?”
She nodded, turning away from the door to lead him towards the drawing room. Unsure of what to say, she asked, “what brings you here, brother?”
“I’ve just come to check on you, dear sister. How has married life been treating you?”
She looked at him in suspicion, “it’s been well, thank you.”
He looked at her expectantly, “And?”
“I’m not sure what more there is to say, brother.”
“It has been weeks since you’ve been married. Are you not with child yet, girl?” He said, his patience wearing thin.
She gaped at her brother, unsure of how to respond. As if by some miracle, she heard familiar footsteps coming in from the foyer. She sighed, grateful for the return of her husband. Anthony walked in, attention on removing his gloves when he looked up and staggered.
“Mr. Carrington?”
Thomas rose from his seat, “Lord Bridgerton. How good it is to see you again.”
Anthony nodded, lips set in a tight smile.
“What brings you here, is everything alright?” He questioned, taking a seat next Annalise and resting a protective hand on her thigh.
“I came to check on my sister, Lord Bridgerton. I’d hoped to hear the happy news of becoming an uncle but alas, that is not the case. Perhaps, Annalise is not taking her role seriously” he said pointedly, looking at Annalise with disdain.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Carrington?” Anthony spat.
“I only mean to say Annalise requires a firm hand if she is to-”
Anthony held up his hand, stopping Thomas before he could finish.
“You come into my home to insult my wife?” His voice hardened.
Thomas chuckled nervously, “she is my sister, Bridgerton.”
“Lord Bridgerton. She is no longer your concern, Mr. Carrington,” he said, every word dripping with anger as he stared Thomas down in disgust.
Thomas opened his mouth to defend himself but Anthony rose from his seat and crossed the room. He grabbed Thomas by the lapels. Annalise stood, afraid of Anthony’s sudden outburst.
“Has Annalise said something to you? She is a foolish girl, always looking for someone else to blame,” Thomas spit out.
“You are a pathetic excuse for a man, I’m ashamed to even be in the same room as you. Get the bloody hell out of my house before I decide to do to you what you did to that little girl who was under your care!” His voice bounced off the walls, Annalise flinched. She watched in awe as Anthony defended her. Finally, he let go of her brother, shoving him forward as he did. Without saying anything else, Thomas straightened his jacket and left.
Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning back to Annalise. He walked towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist, when he saw the tears welled up in her eyes, he pulled her into his chest.
“Are you alright?” He mumbled into her hair.
She nodded, pulling back. She sniffled once, composing herself enough to give him a reassuring smile that said she was okay.
“Thank you,” she said. He leaned down to kiss her in response and when he pulled away, Annalise sighed, resting her head against her husband’s chest, grateful that she had not fled her fate.
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Now Presenting...
Starring Frat Boy!Sukuna and Virgin!Reader
A modern day college AU in which the reader is a young adult just now starting to shrug off their sheltered youth. And Sukuna is more than excited and willing to help lift that burden off your shoulders.
Warning: this fic contains smut, loss of virginity, drinking, enemies to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, use of pet names and unprotected sex. Reader discretion is Advised ;p
Honestly, you really could not believe you dated this dunce. You remembered the break up like a trauma. Staring at his popcorn ceiling as he told you he simply couldn’t get past the fact you didn't want to sleep with him. He didn’t want to be with a prude. At the time, it crushed you. But now, as you sat at your desk, pouring red ink over every love letter he ever sent you, you couldn’t help but feel thankful you didn’t lose your virginity to him.
“What are you doing?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your shared dorm.
“Grading my ex’s love letters.” You said without looking away from your task. The awkward beat of silence that followed proved that she was not expecting that answer.
“Why?” She asked. You simply shrugged. To grieve, you guessed?
“I felt the overwhelming need to correct his grammar.” You could hear her ask why again before she asked it. “I plan on sending them back.”
“You really need to get laid.” Your roommate laughed.
“He hasn’t gotten higher than a d on any of these.” You muttered, “A d Mei.”
“You need some D” Mei chuckled, going and sitting on her bed. “I could get you laid ya know.”
“I don't want to get laid.” You reminded her. That wasn’t quite true. You did want to get laid, you just wanted to do it on your own terms and you didn’t think that was a lot to ask for!
“Well do you wanna come to a party with me tonight?” Mei asked with a smug smirk. “Alpha Beta Omega house is hosting a party tonight, you should come! ABO has all the hottest guys ya know.” You did know, and while the thought was rather enticing, you were never really big on partying. You came to college to get your degree for fucks sake!
“I don’t know Mei,” you sighed, “I hate parties…”
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” Mei tried to sell it. “Please! Don’t let me go alone, that would be a dick move, ya know?” She pouted, giving you the puppy dog eyes that roped you into every party you had been to since starting school. You sighed in irritation, knowing it was useless to keep fighting.
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
♥️♥️♥️
Ryomen had no fucking idea what he was thinking when he signed up for an 8 am class, but if he could kick his past self’s ass, he would. He didn’t think he had been on time for this class even once. He tried everything to wake himself up. Putting his phone on the other side of the room, sleeping with the curtains open, drinking vodka instead of whiskey, all of it was about as effective as putting dry socks on a drowning man.
He walked into class already twenty minutes late. He felt all eyes fall on him, which was fair considering he had interrupted the lecture. He ignored it though, confidently and nonchalantly walking to the nearest empty chair. A chair that just so happened to be next to you.
You felt your heart do level 11 gymnastics in your chest as the Ryomen Sukuna sat next to you. You hated how attracted you were to him. He was everything your parents had ever forbid you from going near. 6 '4 and nothing but a wall of muscle, you couldn’t help but feel like his face full of sharp tattoos just emphasized how soft his puppy-dog-eyes were. It made you want to run your fingers through his soft pink hair.
Suddenly, your keyboard had become the most interesting thing in the world. Your eyes burned holes into your computer as you prayed that Ryomen wouldn’t look at you, or worse talk to you. You found him attractive, yea, but you also knew he was bad news. He was a member of the ABO fraternity and was known for being a womanizing piece of shit who often defaulted to calling you “woman” when he forgot your name. The man was a walking talking red flag factory and to desire him was to desire madness and hurt. You should want nothing to do with him.
And yet.
“Hey, do you have the notes?” Ryomen asked, looking at you from the corners of his eyes and ho-ly shit. Fuck whatever the fuck the professor was going on about, you now had his full attention. He fully turned to you, taking you all in. If Ryomen had to describe his dream woman, he would simply pull up a picture of you. A reluctant innocence clung to you, begging him to find the delinquent underneath it all. He didn’t know what he was thinking, signing up for an 8 am class, but he would kiss his past self if he could.
“Yea, for sure.” You muttered, biting your lip as you pulled up your email. He showed you his laptop so you could get his email straight from the source, and thanks to technology, he had the notes in seconds.
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He smiled, showing his unusually sharp canines. You thought that you were done with this interaction, thankfully, but then he kept going. “So, are you going to the ABO party tonight?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Parties aren’t really my thing.” Of course, you probably spent most of your life sheltered, too scared to disappoint your parents to ever rebel. Ryomen wanted your rebellion more than he wanted to pass his finals.
“You should go,” Ryomen whispered, “I bet you’d be really popular.”
“Yea, and by that you mean men would be drooling over how bad they want to fuck me, right?” You scoffed, forgetting yourself. He did in fact mean that by the way, but this response from you is not what he expected. You kept him on his toes. You intrigued him. “Now, just why do you think I’d want that?” You asked.
“So you’re worried about creepy dudes?” Ryomen asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alright then, Come with me then. Be my date.” He smiled that fang filled smile that was quickly burning its way into your heart.
“No.” You said plainly.
“Oh come on,” he damn near begged, “You get to go and have fun without the fear of creeps, because I’ll be protecting you, and I get to show up with a beautiful woman on my arm, it’s a win-win!” You weren’t sure when it happened, but class had ended and others were leaving.
“And just how do you plan to protect me from creepy guys when you are the creepy guy?” You challenged.
“By out creeping them.” Okay, even you had to admit that was funny. Ryomens smile widened as he realized he had gotten you to laugh. He won.
“Ryomen, let’s go!” Someone called for him. Ryomen looked to the door and found his friends standing there waiting for him, Geto looking particularly annoyed. “We’re going to be late for class.” Geto said, annoyance dripping from him.
He quickly scribbled down his number into his notebook, ripping the page and putting it on your computer. “Just think about it and call me, yea? I’m excited to take you.” He winked as he rushed to join his friends.
You stared at the number for a few seconds after he left. You felt like the number was taunting you, yes, but also enticing you. It showed you a night of fun, excited passion that you had never experienced before but so desperately missed. It showed you a taste of freedom and rebellion. Doing something bad, knowing it was bad, and doing it anyway because it was so intoxicating. It showed you everything you wanted and more.
You threw it in the trash on your way out the door.
♥️♥️♥️
You sighed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The white tennis skirt Mei Mei had picked out was far shorter than you wanted, and the pink sweater was far tighter. You tried to put on a pair of stockings to compensate for the shortness of the skirt, but, all they did was accentuate your legs. You couldn’t believe Mei had convinced you to go to this stupid party.
I mean, you could. It wasn’t hard, she offered to do your calculus homework for a week, you would have killed your mother to get out of having to do calculus for a week. But when you agreed to let her pick out the outfit, you had never expected—or prepared—to wear something so….
Sexy. That's the word you had been looking for, you looked sexy. You had never really dressed up before, sweatpants and t-shirts were typically your uniform. You were surprised at the way your body worked for you when you let it.
“Are you ready yet?!” Mei asked
“Yea, I’m coming.” You said, finally pulling yourself away from the mirror and joining Mei by the door. She gave you another once over, smiling in satisfaction as she did. The outfit she’d picked out had really come together.
“You look good,” She nodded.
“Thanks,” You shrugged, trying to hide your slight embarrassment. You weren’t used to compliments. Mei nodded one last time before ushering you out the door.
“Hey, Mei?” You asked as the two of you started the walk to the ABO Frat house.
“What’s up Y/n?” She asked.
“You’re not going to leave me alone, right? Like, we’re actually gonna hang out and protect each other tonight?” Mei gave you the warmest, most reassuring smile you had ever seen.
“Of course Y/n. I won’t leave your side for even a second.”
♥️♥️♥️
You regretted every decision you had ever made in your life that led to you coming to this party. The music was way too loud, the drinks were way too strong (thanks Nanami), and the people were way too obnoxious. Mei had abandoned you almost the moment the two of you had walked in the door, making you realize you really needed to get better friends. It wouldn’t have been that bad, except some asshole that smelled like corpse had decided, against your will, he was taking you home tonight.
He wouldn’t leave you alone. You’d tried everything, complete disinterest, telling him you had a boyfriend, hell even telling him you were gay! Nothing would deter him. You even tried to go to the bathroom to try and lose him and he just fucking waited for you outside the bathroom door. This Mahito motherfucker was really starting to freak you out.
“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The ragdoll yelled in your ear, sending a fog of rotten breath over your face. You didn’t hide the disgust you felt as you looked for an out— any—to get out of this situation.
“What do you say you and I get outta here?” He asked. As he did, he put a singular hand on your waist. The moment he did, your head filled with sirens and screaming, every true crime podcast you had ever heard, willingly or not, replayed through your head and you were never more sure that this man had women tied up in his basement. Your adrenaline spiked as you looked for any way to get him to properly fuck off.
Ah-ha!
“Babe!” You yelled, all smiles and cheer as you ripped yourself away from Mahito and ran to Ryomen. Mahito followed, like the idiot he was, but this time you somehow knew you’d be fine. Ryomen looked confused at first, then noticed the corpse walking with you and it all clicked. He smiled back at you, more warmly than you ever expected,
“Hey! Babygirl!” He called out, holding out his arm so you could bury yourself into his side. The girl he was talking to was very very confused, but decided to remove herself from the situation before she got caught up in any drama. Shout out to her.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, where’ve you been?” He asked, leaning down and kissing your forehead to really sell it. You considered slapping him, but, figured that would break the illusion, so you settled for giggling instead.
“I’ve been trying to get rid of this creep.” You said, your eyes darting from Mahito to Ryomen in a very Help Me way. Ryomen looked at Mahito and all of the warmth instantly left him. It sent chills up your spine to watch him go from joking smiles to cold stares. The light left his eyes as they narrowed and you were sure his features somehow got sharper. Or maybe that was the tattoos.
“Have you been fucking with my girl?” he asked. The emphasis he put on “mine” sent chills of a different kind through you. Oh, you liked that. You really liked that. You pressed your thighs together to try and take your mind off the feelings between them, and took a drink of your vodka redbull to try and cool down. It didn’t work.
“Well, I- I mean, I-”
“I-I-I.” Sukuna mocked, “You didn’t have any trouble talking to my girlfriend all night, why’re you having trouble now?” Danger radiated off of Sukuna like a match in a room full of methane, waiting to be lit. It was the kind of danger that drew you in, no matter how much you resisted. It felt inevitable. “Come on man, if you’re going to be a fucking creep you might as well say it with your chest.”
“I’m not a creep!” Mahito tried to argue.
“That's not what she said,” Ryomen said, holding you just a little bit tighter, sending sparks throughout your body again. “So what, you’re calling her a liar?”
“Well, no, I-”
“You say I alot.” Sukuna said, taking a sip of his drink to really show off his disinterest. “You know what I think?” He asked. “I think that you should get the fuck out and go the fuck home before I rip your larynx out of you via your asshole.” He threatened. It was such a ridiculous tough guy line that normally you would have laughed, but, somehow he sold it hook, line, and sinker. You could see that fact alone in the now bleached white face of Mahito.
Sukuna looked into his cup, determining he was going to need a refill. “You have exactly 45 seconds to leave before I turn you into pie filling.” He said without looking at the smaller man. He finished his drink and looked back at him. “45, 44, 39-”
The count down did its job wonderfully. Mahitos ass was kicked into high gear. You could see in his eyes he was hearing the same sirens you were earlier as he ran to find the front door, desperate to get as far away from the monster that was holding you as soon as possible. You, on the other hand, were feeling the exact opposite effect. You wanted to be even closer to him than ever.
“So, why didn’t you call me?” Ryomen asked, looking down at you. Somehow, all the ice in his eyes had defrosted, leaving him with his warm puppy dog ones. You realized that you were in danger rather quickly and detangled yourself from his arm.
“Oh, because I threw it away.” You smiled. The liquor you had been drinking was officially flowing through your veins, and quite frankly, you didn’t really care about decorum. Ryomen blinked at you, fully processing what you said.
“Why?” He asked.
“Because, while you may not be a creep, Ryomen, you’re still a womanizing fuck boy that never had any real intention of starting a relationship with me. Am I right?” You asked, batting your pretty eyelashes at him. Ryomen couldn’t help but smirk. Damn, you really had him pegged, didn’t you? He was growing fonder and fonder of you by the minute.
“You’re right.” He admitted, taking a step closer to you, “But, I gotta say, I respect you having the balls to say it to my face. Makes me think you might actually be worth getting to know.” Which was the closest Ryomen could ever get to saying ‘I find you at least intriguing and would actually be interested in a relationship.’ You just smirked at him and hummed.
“But are you worth getting to know?” You asked. Before he could answer, Mei had suddenly returned from the astral plane, you fucking guessed. Of course she would be nowhere to be found when you needed her, but show up to ruin things right as they get interesting.
“Y/n!” She laughed as she came downstairs, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven upstairs, you gotta come play!” She said, giggling as she grabbed your arm.
“I can think of nothing more opposed to my soul.” You said plainly, taking your arm back. “Getting sweaty in a dark closet with a stranger? Sounds like hell.”
“Sounds pretty fun to me.” Ryomen said. It was a dangerous gamble, but if the cards were on his side he could just end up being the stranger getting sweaty with you in a dark closet.
“You would, mega creep.” You scoffed, semi-jokingly.
“Come on Y/n, what's the worst that happens? You end up making awkward chit chat for seven minutes in a closet? Come on!” Mei groaned.
“If they make you uncomfortable, yell herpes and I’ll come kill them for you.” Sukuna offered.
“Your safe word is herpes?” You questioned.
“Can you think of anything that kills the mood faster than the thought of herpes?” Ryomen asked. Alright, fair enough Ryomen.
“Come on Y/n, please come play? It’ll be fun!” Mei begged. You sighed, wondering when you planned to stop making bad decisions tonight.
“Okay, fine. I’ll play.” You groaned while both of your companions cheered. In a flurry, you were being whisked away up the stairs, both of them trying to get you in the game before you had a chance to back out. You were reminded once again that you hated college parties, walking into a smoke filled dorm room lit by led lights and adorned with a weed pride flag.
“Love that you can tell what part of this room was decorated by Gojo and what was decorated by Geto.” Mei laughed as she led you to a group of young adults sitting in a circle.
“Overhead lights are the devil!” Gojo yelled, throwing a chip into his mouth. A not at all shocking amount of people in the group of (Probably neurodiverse) stoners agreed with him in hums and cheers. You sat down next to him, Mei sitting on the other side of you and Ryomen taking a free spot in the circle somewhere across from you.
“Who’s in the closet now?” Sukuna asked. As if summoned by his question, Nanami and Shoko walked out of the closet, both of them on their phones.
“Geto’s turn.” Shoko said. Mei scoffed at them both.
“Weren't you making drinks, Nanami?” Mei asked as Geto spun the bottle.
“I was..” Nanami assured her, “I got bored.” The bottle landed on Gojo, and everyone let out childish woos and whistles. Geto and Gojo both grinned like fools as they rushed to the closet, the two of them always excited to feel each other up. Honestly their participation in this game took you a bit by surprise. What if one member of the couple didn’t get the other?
“God they need to just get together already.” Ryomen muttered, rolling his eyes. What?! They weren't together?! Before you could express your shock, a very loud, very breathy moan left the closet door, filling you with second hand embarrassment for the two. The rest of the crowd ate that shit up though, shouting encouragement and wolf whistling. Even Ryomen was laughing with the crowd when he caught your eyes.
He raised an eyebrow at you. “What? Voyeurism not your thing?”
You looked at him in annoyance. “Why would it be anyone's thing?”
He shrugged in response. “Performance is performance. People will do anything for attention.”
You raised an eyebrow at him now. “Would you do anything for attention?”
He smirked at you. “I’d do anything for your attention.”
Your silent conversation was interrupted by another loud moan, this time courtesy of Geto, and the crowd went wild again, shouting vulgarities at them. You began to wonder if this was typical of them, or if they were— as Ryomen suggested— putting on a performance. You got your answer as the timer rang, marking their seven minutes as up. They exited the closet with a flourish, bowing for the crowd and showing off their messed up clothes and hair. Was this the appeal of seven minutes in heaven? You didn’t understand party games.
“Alright Ryo, your go.” Geto laughed, giving fistbumps and highfives while he sat down. Ryomen rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that, Gene Simmons” He growled at him, before giving you one last look and spinning the bottle. You were mildly curious to see where the bottle would land, already feeling bad for whatever poor schmuck that got locked in a closet with him.
And then the bottle landed on you. Cheers and hollars surrounded and pounded in your ears. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode which…was really just an oncoming panic attack. Of all the people you imagined being shoved in a closet with, Ryomen Sukuna had never crossed your mind. You were going to be in a small, confined space with him, all alone, where you’re literally expected to at least make out. You were electrified back to life as a hand fell in front of your face.
You looked up and saw the hand was attached to the grinning face of Ryomen, fireworks exploding behind his eyes. “You coming baby girl?” He asked with a wink. You didn’t have to. You could have turned tail and run away, out of the party and back to your dorm. That was actually what you probably should do, it was the safe option! The one that would make your mother proud.
You took his hand, sending the crowd into yet another tizzy. But this time, you heard none of it, your mind focused entirely on Ryomen. He squeezed your hand reassuringly as he led you to the closet and smiled almost comfortingly. You didn’t know his smile could be comforting, thanks to the fangs, but it was. All of it felt very…off, coming from Ryomen, probably the least comforting person at your school.
He pulled you into the closet, pulling you close to his chest as he pulled the door closed. A lot of pulling was going on. You braced yourself for war, for him to kiss you. You closed your eyes tight, feeling your entire body tense but…nothing came. He didn’t kiss you. In fact, he let go of you. You opened your eyes just to see him leaning against the wall of the closet, staring at you with his hands in his pockets.
“You…didn’t kiss me?” You questioned, just for him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“No? You didn’t want me to.” You weren’t sure why, but that assertion upset you. How dare he claim to know what you wanted?! You didn’t even know what you wanted!
“You don’t know that.” you scoffed, causing him to laugh.
“Oh please,” He shriveled into what (You hoped) as an overly dramatized rendition of your body language from seconds before, “Doesn’t necessarily scream ‘Kiss Me’.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. You crossed your arms, but, you knew he was right.
“It’s just…I’ve never done this before.” You tried to explain.
“You’ve never been kissed?” He seemed genuinely shocked.
“No, dipshit, I’ve kissed people before! I’ve just never played seven minutes in heaven.”
“Oh, yea I could kinda tell,” He admitted with a shrug, “You scream sheltered kid. I bet even now, as a grown ass adult you’re still too scared to rebel against mommy.” The way he said “mommy” struck you. It was soaked in condescension and mockery. You hated that he was right. You hated that despite the fact you were fully grown getting a college degree, you still heard your mothers voice in the back of your head every time you wanted to do something even a little bit rebellious. You were willing to bet no one else had that! You bet Ryomen didn’t have that.
“I am not!” you lied to him.
“Oh yea?” He challenged.
“Yea!” You asserted.
“Then prove it. Kiss me.” he said. Ryomens eyes burned into yours as he stepped forward, slowly closing the already small gap between you. His presence was intense and all consuming and hot. You could feel him burning you away from the inside out, as if he was a raging inferno and you were just a piece of tissue paper caught in his wake. He had a smirk that just screamed I know I just won and it drove you crazy because he was right! He was either right or he got the kiss you knew he’d been chasing all night. Well fuck it. There was only one way for you to win here too.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Ryomen didn’t skip a beat, pulling you even closer to him and pushing you against the wall, the soft thud sending the drunken crowd outside the door into hysterics. Your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands slid up your shirt to grab your bare skin. He bit your lip, making you gasp and giving him room to deepen the kiss.
Your head was spinning with excitement and panic, your breathing becoming harsher by the minute as he moved to kiss your neck. Your ex had never kissed you like this before. So desperate to have you, as if you were the most desirable being on the planet. It excited you, electrocuting your nervous system with every touch, pull, or bite. Despite your better judgment, a moan escaped you, sending the drunken crowd outside the closet into another bout of hysterics.
Your body reacted to him in ways that it had reacted to nobody else before, you needed him. He grabbed one of your thighs and rested it on his hip, his hand sliding under the hem of your skirt.
“Ryomen..” You moaned out, soft enough not to feed the masses.
“Say it again.” He purred.
“Ryomen.”
“That's seven!” Gojo called, pounding on the closet door, startling both you and Ryomen. He pulled away just in time for Gojo to pull the door open, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “You two love birds have fun?” He teased. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his annoyance with being interrupted evident.
“Not as much fun as you and your boy toy.” He scoffed, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the closet. The crowd of drunken young adults had grown, meaning the crowd of people wolf whistling and cheering (jeering?) had grown. Embarrassment exploded from your chest. What the hell were you thinking?! Kissing Ryomen?! You silently scolded yourself.
You didn’t even fully process that he had dragged you from the dormroom until you were in a new one, this one seemingly vacuumed sealed away from the party. The art on the wall queued you into the fact that this was probably the room Ryomen and Nanami shared.
“Ryo?” You asked as he pulled you into the room and locked the door behind him.
“Nicknames now huh?” He chuckled, “That's cute.”
He locked the door. He locked the door. You may have been a sheltered kid, but you weren’t dumb. You knew what a locked door met at a frat party. The realization sparked your nervous system into high gear and you felt the need to press your thighs together again.
“I’ve never done this before.” You told him quickly.
“What, sex on a first date?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. You’d…hardly call this a fucking date, but that was an issue for later.
“No, sex.” You told him. He actually backed away.
“Really?” He asked, more shocked than you would have liked. “Hey, look we don’t have to-”
“I know we don’t.” You cut him off. “I want to.” He smirked almost proudly as he closed the gap between the two of you once again.
“I knew I liked you.” He purred. Before you had a chance to ask what that meant, his lips had crashed into yours, pulling you into another heated kiss. It was like the two of you physically couldn't get enough of each other, like you’d simply stop breathing if you weren’t kissing. It sent your head into a heated flurry, making you feel light. He pressed you into the bed, wrapping one of your legs around his hips as his hand slipped underneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the now translucent spot in your underwear.
Another moan escaped you, sounding far more desperate than you would have liked. “Needy, are we?” Ryomen chuckled, pushing your panties to the side and running two fingers up and down your slit, collecting the sticky lube. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your body felt flushed with hellfire and you couldn't help but wonder if he was this cocky with every girl he brought to his bed.
“Yea,” You moaned through a heavy breath, “You gonna take care of it, or whaa-” Your quip died in your throat as he buried two fingers into your weeping pussy, up to the knuckle without even a warning.
“What was that doll?” He teased, curling his fingers up to perfectly hit your g-spot and send you astral projecting into the ninth dimension. Was this what you were missing out on? Your hands fell to his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as he curled his fingers again. This was a completely new type of pleasure for you, one you couldn’t get from your own fingers or a toy. You were hooked on it, you needed more of it. You started grinding down on his hand, chasing the high he was more than obliged to give you.
“Feel good?” He purred. You nodded helplessly, your brain too mushy to make words. “Want to feel even better?” His smirk was wicked. You didn’t have time to process it though, or even answer the question before he removed your panties and ducked his head under your skirt, his lips quickly finding your clit. The new sensation was your tipping point. The fire in your veins overtook you, your head felt like it was made of cotton, and the tension that had been growing in you was reaching a breaking point.
“R-ryo,” You panted desperately, “I-its too much, I-” Your pleas for mercy are cut off as he slips another finger into you, shooting sharp tendrils of pleasure throughout your body, finding every last inch of you. Your brain was mush and your nerves on high alert, feeling every single one of the pink haired man's movements.
Your entire body felt tense as heat continued to pool in hot waves in your stomach, every curl of his fingers, every swipe of his tongue bringing you one step closer to the brink. You had never wanted anything so bad in your life. Your hands tangled in his hair, subconsciously pulling him closer to your needy cunt. Ryomen very much obliged, giving you everything you wanted and more.
“I-I, ah-!” all of the intense feelings were building into a crescendo inside of you, your small boat in the ocean of oxytocin and euphoria was capsizing. All at once your body seized, you thought you whined out his name but you weren’t sure. Pleasure came rolling over your entire body in seething waves, filling all of your senses and leaving you shaking like a chihuahua.
“You're beautiful when you cum.” Had to be one of the weirdest compliments you had ever received. You lifted your head off the bed to see Ryomen wiping his mouth off. He stood up, taking off his shirt, and holy shit. You don’t know why the thought never occurred to you that the tattoos would be on his chest too. They covered his face, they were on his arms and wrists, why wouldn’t they be on his chest? It made you wonder where else they were.
“Enjoying the view?” He asked, knowing full and well you were. You looked away in embarrassment, just to feel him grab the hem of your sweater. “I showed you mine, let me see yours” He teased, pulling the pink top off of you. His reaction gave you your confidence back plus some. You felt emboldened by the way he beheld you, like you were Venus herself. You smirked as you took off your bra, exposing your chest to him.
“Enjoying the view?” You asked.
“Very much so.” he said in a rush before his eager, hot mouth wrapped around your right nipple, his hand coming up to play with the left. You had never imagined having your tits played with would feel so good. Maybe it was just the effect Ryomen had on you. But his actions left you whimpering softly under him, unconsciously bucking your hips to make some friction. He noticed the command he had over your body, the way you melted into him. He knew you were his, he just had to seal the deal.
He pulled away, undoing his belt and jean buttons to free his cock. You bucked your hips at the view again, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. He was bigger than you expected, thick and long. You’d probably have been a little bit intimidated if you weren’t so desperate to feel that high again. He fisted himself with one hand and clumsily rubbed your sensitive nub with the other. But it wasn’t enough anymore, you needed him.
“Ryo, please..”
“Please what Y/n?” He smirked. He knew exactly what you wanted. But, he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.
“Ryomen, please, I need you.” You whined, not wanting to say it outloud.
“I’m right here baby girl, what do you need?” His grin was wicked and still full of mirth. You were starting to hate him again.
“Ryomen please, I need your cock, I need you, I need you to fuck me.” You blurted out all at once, your mouth moving faster than your mind did. His grin turned into a full on smile.
“Well, then why didn’t you just say that?” He laughed as he lined himself up with your soaking cunt.
“I di-AHH!” You screamed as he pushed his fat cock into you, the collision with your cervix jolting you into a state of hypersensitivity. You clung onto him desperately, your cunt clamping down around him, trying to push him out and pull him deeper all at the same time. You felt helplessly stretched out underneath him, your mind trying to find your body.
“Relax for me baby,” Ryomen moaned into your neck, kissing it softly. Easy for him to say! He wasn’t just impaled! You took deep, jagged breaths, to try and reregulate your fried nervous system. You took in the smell of pine and cigarettes, the almost comforting feeling of his body flush with yours, and the near tenderness of the kisses he was trailing along your neck. It was a beautiful caricature of intimacy, really.
Finally, you had relaxed enough around him for him to move. And move he did. To his credit, he tried to take it slow. He tried to be considerate of your virgin status (well…former virgin status) and not hurt you. But, Ryomen was not the slow gentle, “making love” type and before he knew it, he was chasing his high with a ferocity that left you weak under him.
You weren’t complaining though. His thrusts were intoxicating, the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. He was stretching you to the point of delirium, feeling a rush of ecstasy every time he moved inside of your velvety walls. Your head was in heaven and your soul was in hell. Everything was all at once too hot and too cold, overwhelming. The waves of euphoria were building up inside of you again, a string tangling over itself again and again until it was taunt.
One of his hands moved to massage at your clit again, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke. You were speeding at 160 miles per hour off of a cliff and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Your mind was filled with nothing but Ryomen Ryomen Ryomen as electricity and pleasure coarse through your body. It felt like you were an electrical fire underneath him, no longer just tissue paper but an inferno in your own right.
“Ryomen, I’m-!”
“I know.” He said as he continued to chase both of your highs. The way your cunt clenched around him, pulling him back in with every thrust told him everything he needed to know. “Cum for me.”
Your body was under his command whether you liked it or not. You came undone around his cock, the string finally snapping as you drove off the cliff with no hesitation, and into your grave and erotic bliss, pleasure overtaking your body in waves. Your entire body shook under him as the intensity of your climax overcame you. He wasn’t far behind with the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, pulling his own orgasm from him. He came deep into your cervix, overflowing you and making you pray you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences later.
You both stilled for a moment in the afterglow. As he pulled out and managed to collapse next to you, not on top of you. What did you do now? You could still hear the party raging outside of the door, but the last thing you wanted to do was rejoin it. You looked over at Ryomen, still trying to regulate his breath next to you.
You moved yourself to rest your head on his chest, figuring that was what couples do in movies after sex, right? For a second, you thought he was going to push you off. But, he didn’t. Quite the opposite really, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer.
“Sooo,” He said, finally breaking the silence, “Do you want my number again?”
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・Part 2 Out Now! ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader smut#frat boy sukuna#virgin reader#sukuna smut#college au#modern au#loss of virginity#enemies to lovers#fratboy!sukuna
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Yandere! Father x Gn! Reader.
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
Note:Is this fic a bit self indulgent? Yes. ANYWAYS, THANKS Y'ALL FOR THE 260 FOLLOWERS ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* I honestly am so happy by how far this blog has come!
❦Contains: Yandere behavior, Platonic Yandere, terrible family relationship, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome.
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You didn't know how you got here, but you surely want to go back.
But it seemed to start when your parents started fighting at home, they've never done that before.
You we're obviously upset, but after their argument, your mother had come into your room and gently told you that they both had a small disagreement with each other and that everything would go back to normal.
It only got worse from there.
It was subtle at first, not spending time with each other not talking to each other at home and your Dad slept on the couch while your Mom slept in their room.
They didn't want to fight in front of you, but you we're old enough to understand what was going on, you weren't naive.
Because of this, you wanted to avoid being at home with them as much as possible, you didn't like seeing them fight so much, listening to loud music wasn't enough to drown them out.
You found solace in sitting in the park, on the bench or on one of the swings, feeling the cold breeze on your skin while you look up at the sky, it was so peaceful compared to when you're at home.
Though, from time to time, you'll see kids playing with their parents in the park and just being happy with them, you envied their ignorant bliss.
You wondered what went wrong with your family, but no matter how much thought you put into it, it might not help with fixing the situation, so you needed to do it yourself.
Though, you didn't know how.
When you began to stay in the park more and more than in your own home, you start to take notice on people who often the park as well, especially this one guy who likes to wear sweaters and draw.
You copied him at some point, pulling out a notebook and began to draw as well. It was fun, you weren't an expert, but it took your mind off of everything.
Though, nothing good ever lasts because your parents took notice of your absence in your own home, so after a day in the park, your parents were both waiting for you at home, the first time you saw them together when they weren't screaming at each other.
"Where have you been!" "Do you know how worried we were? Why did you come home just now? "
You've both only noticed now? I've been doing this for almost 2 months now.
"I was just at the park.." "At this time!?"
"Well, I just didn't want to be home while you two are fighting. "
....
You we're just telling the truth, they didn't need to ground you for it. Though, even after being ungrounded you didn't stop going to the park, you just went home early as to avoid suspicion from your parents.
And by this time, you had gathered courage to talk to the man who liked to draw in the park. Asking what he's always drawing while he's in the park.
His name was Richard, he liked to practice drawing buildings and people in the park, he even admitted into drawing you for a bit, telling you that you always looked lonely when you're in the park.
You awkwardly laughed off what he said, it was true, but you didn't know that you looked so sad when you we're in the park, you always felt like a huge burden was lifted off your shoulders when you enter.
Richard's a nice guy, you found comfort in his pressence and grew to trust him more, he was older than you, sure, he was a stranger, sure, but he always seemed to care for you like you were his own child.
Maybe he's got like a younger sibling or something because it just seemed so natural for him to take care of you, so you asked him one day, "Do you have any younger siblings? ".
He chuckled, "Used to, a little sister. If she was still alive, she'd be the same age as you. "
You felt bad for him, buy grew curious to what his sibling was like.
But maybe that's why he decided it had to be you, because the two of you we're so similar from each other, you and his sister I mean, the only reason she was dead was because he couldn't protect her from their parents influence, so maybe that's why he vowed that he'd take you away from them.
Though he didn't understand why you we're sad and defiant when he actually took you away, somewhere where your parents can never find you, not like they ever cared anyways, is what he told you.
But your safe now, with your true family.
On days when he's not at work, he always spends time with you, despite your cold attitude towards him, it's fine, you'll warm up to him eventually, situations with teenager and their step parents are similar, it takes time to build relationships.
He would cook meals and have you sit down with him to eat dinner, after you took a bath he'd be outside the door to help dry and brush your hair, because you no longer can't go to school, he opted to teach you things instead.
He always treated you nicely and never raised his voice at you, he was there when you needed him and soon became the father figure that you missed having, so maybe that's was why you grew to cling to him, like a child being dropped of for their first day of school.
"Dont worry dear, your Father's here.. " he says while stroking your hair softly, pulling you to sleep.
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I honestly don't know if this fic makes sense, I literally lost like, a brain cell making this. Well, no more writers block! Though, don't expect regular posts though..i still got no idea what I should do(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)
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#yandere#yandere oc#yandere blog#yandere x reader#yandere oc x reader#original character#yandere imagines#yandere scenario#platonic relationships#Platonic yandere
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A New Friend
You bring home a stray kitten to Tommy; will he accept it?
Cute, no smut. Typical Tommy language. 781 words, short and sweet. one shot.
“Hello love, how was your day?” Tommy asks as he walks through the front door. Taking off his coat and hanging it up, he walks to you sitting on the couch, oblivious to the new being lounging in your lap. Tommy never talks about his day; you suppose as to not burden you and keep you safe from his far from legal doings. But he always wants to know about yours, hanging onto every little detail. Even though compared to his day, yours was quite mundane, he never gets tired of hearing about it. As he comes closer and bends down to give you a kiss, he hears a soft mewing sound coming from your lap. Looking down he sees a small black kitten curled up, looking up at him with big yellow eyes.
“Right, what’s this then?” tommy questions with a puzzled look on his face. You scratch the kitten behind the ears with a chuckle, “it’s a kitten tommy, haven’t you seen one before? I found her on the street while out today and I just couldn’t tell her no.” Tommy takes a breath. “A kitten is the last thing we need love. I know nothing about them. I'm a gangster for Christ's sake, what am I supposed to do with a cat?” Both you and the said cat look at him “Tommy she’ll be my responsibility, you won’t even know she’s here.” he rolls his eyes and kisses your forehead “You said it, not me.”
Days go by and tommy tries his best to ignore the kitten (now called Missy). The kitten on the other hand, is not having it. As he sits in his study after a long day by the fire, he feels something brushing up against his pant leg. “Damn cat,” he mumbles to himself, imitating you, “You won’t even know she’s here, Tommy.” Missy isn’t letting up, demanding his attention. He tries his best to push her away with his foot, she just comes right back, eventually jumping into his lap startling him almost dropping his glass of whiskey. “Fucking hell, what do you want cat?” Missy looks at him, purring softly, demanding to be pet. They share eye contact for a bit, neither relenting. Tommy isn’t used to anything or anyone defying him, much less a four-pound kitten.
“To be so small, you dare and come around Tommy Shelby with your demands, eh?” he asks her as she makes herself at home on his lap, finally content with herself. Tommy sighs, finally realizing she isn’t leaving until she is ready. Just as he attempts to raise his hand in an attempt to touch her, there’s a knock at the door. You quietly walk in, a worried look on your face. “Sorry Tommy, but have you seen Missy? I’ve been looking everywhere?” Just then Missy raises her head, hearing her name. A smile breaks out on your face when you see the two spending time together. “Well look at this, the great feared Tommy Shelby is a cat person.” he rolls his eyes, “More like she’s as stubborn as you, won’t take no for an answer. Come get your silly cat.” Missy mews in protest as she is lifted off Tommy’s lap and into your arms. “Whatever you say dear, but I think she’s taken a liking to you.” You chuckle as you leave the room. “Come to bed when you’re ready darling.”
Many hours pass, his whiskey bottle empty, sleep invading his thoughts as he makes his way upstairs to bed. He reaches your shared room, watching you sleep, thinking to himself how lucky he is. Just as he strips down and pulls back the covers, he hears a soft mumbling sound. Missy has invaded the bed and is on his side, beating him to it. He runs his hand through his hair. “Sorry cat, but you are not stopping me from lying with my woman.” He picks her up and puts her at the foot of the bed, climbing in. You turn to him feeling the bed move. “She was just keeping your spot warm for you.” you mumble softly as his arm snakes around you pulling you close. He smiles down at you “Oh is that it eh?” he asks mouth against your soft hair.
Just as Tommy falls asleep, he feels something nudge the arm he has around you. Sighing, he slightly raises his arm just enough to let Missy in the embrace. “Damn cat,” he groans, “You tell anyone about this, you’ll wind up in the cut.” Missy just purrs in response, pleased that she has won over the big scary gangster. For tonight at least
#tommy shelby#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x y/n
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Y/n returns after missing
Part 2
Part two
Overwhelmed by a maelstrom of emotions, Y/n barely recognized the sense of belonging that once pulsed in the walls of her home. The sanctuary she returned to seemed distorted through her tears, each droplet blurring the line between her expectations and reality. The first few hours of her return were a blur, spent in the throes of uncontrollable sobs, while her mother's soothing words fell like autumn leaves upon deaf ears. Her heart, heavy with an unnamed dread, had braced for impact, but not for the storm that was to come.
In the midst of her turmoil, her mother reappeared, bearing what should have been a gift but felt like a burden. "Y/n, honey. I’m back, and here’s your new phone. It has the same number as before, and all your messages and pictures are in there,” her mother's voice was a soft hum, a slight vibrato betraying her worry.
Y/n accepted the phone with a murmur of thanks, the cold device a stark contrast to her warm, stinging cheeks. As her mother retreated, closing the door gently behind her, respecting the privacy that she needed. Y/n was left alone with nothing but the glow of the screen. Notifications flooded in, a deluge of missed connections: over 500 texts, calls, and voicemails. Each ping was a reminder of the life that had continued in her absence, each message a plea pulling her back.
She scrolled through the messages, heart aching more with every word. Concern, confusion, and disbelief filled the screen until she stumbled upon Harry’s texts. She couldn’t — wouldn’t — let herself spiral further down that hole, not now. Her gaze caught Zayn’s name, and she clung to the change of focus like a lifeline.
Zayn's initial message was a beacon of normalcy, a reminder of plans made before her world turned upside down: 'Hey, when you come back from your trip, we have to go out and celebrate.' But the messages that followed were steeped in anxiety, ending in a raw, vulnerable confession: 'Y/n, I can’t believe you’re gone...I miss you. You were a really good friend to me after I left the band, and I feel I need you now more than ever before.'
With a trembling hand, she replied, a small smile ghosting her lips for the first time in hours. 'Idk if you have the same number lol. But Hii.'
At that moment, Zayn was entrenched in his skepticism, dismissing rumors of Y/n’s return as mere fan fiction. But then, her message arrived, coinciding with his discovery of a blog post that confirmed his worst fears and best hopes: “Y/n has lunch with Harry Styles and his new fiancée Kendall.”
The conversation that ensued was a dance between old friends, familiar and comforting despite the circumstances.
'Wow, looks who’s back like they never left,' Zayn texted, relief mingling with residual tension.
'Lol, I am back, and better... though I kinda wish I was back on the island right now. Instead of here, crying,' Y/n’s reply was a mix of jest and heartbreaking honesty.
'Ohh, I���m assuming you found out about Harry and Kendall,' Zayn ventured cautiously, the words hanging heavy even in digital space.
'Yea... I did, but it’s okay. The world moves on, Just everything is different,' Y/n texted back with a sadness that Zayn could almost feel through the screen.
Determined to lift her spirits, Zayn quickly changed the subject. 'Okay, how about you come here tomorrow? it’s a place with no parents or ex-boyfriends.'
'Sounds awesome,' Y/n responded, the simplicity of her message belying the gratitude she felt for this unwavering friendship.
'See, I haven’t changed. I’m still your good friend,' Zayn affirmed, his words wrapping Y/n in a comforting embrace, reminding her that even in the darkest times, she wasn’t alone.
***
The afternoon had waned into evening by the time Harry returned home from lunch, the atmosphere heavy with an unspoken tension that seemed to vibrate in the air. The house, once a haven, now echoed with an awkward silence that settled between him and Kendall, thick and almost tangible. Harry's mind was a chaotic whirlwind, the image of Y/n incessantly flashing before his eyes, refusing to fade even as hours trickled by. It wasn't a question of love — his feelings for Kendall were genuine, deep-seated — but since Y/n's unexpected reappearance, the dynamics of his emotions had shifted inexplicably, unsettlingly.
The nightly routine unfolded with mechanical detachment; Kendall slipped into her pajamas, the fabric whispering softly against her skin in the quiet of their shared bedroom. The bed, usually a place of comfort, seemed to loom larger and more imposing than usual, a battlefield on which unvoiced concerns lay in wait.
“The fans are going crazy since Y/n’s back,” Kendall broke the silence, her words careful, probing. Harry offered a noncommittal hum, his mind miles away, lost in memories he thought he'd archived in the recesses of his heart.
She exhaled slowly, a mixture of frustration and resignation, before climbing into bed. The sheets felt colder than usual. “Harry...you called her ‘kitten’,” she voiced out softly, the word hanging heavily between them.
“So? It’s just a nickname,” Harry retorted defensively, a hint of irritation lacing his tone. But Kendall wasn’t convinced. To her, 'just a nickname' didn’t scratch the surface of the significance behind it.
She turned on her side to face him, shadows playing across her features in the dim light. “You remember why you called her kitten, don’t you? I asked you years back,” Kendall mumbled, her voice a mix of curiosity and a painful sort of anticipation.
The memory surfaced effortlessly. “Yeah, I told you it was because she followed me home from school like a lost cat when she was 6 and I was 8...and since I love cats, she became my favorite kitten ever,” Harry’s voice was soft, the nostalgia evident in his words, his mind reliving a simpler time.
Kendall’s heart ached with an indescribable emotion. “And when I tried to get you a cat, you wouldn’t let me...” she recalled, the memory bitter on her tongue.
“Because it would make me think of her, and she was gone,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with a sorrow that had been tucked away until now.
The silence that followed was deafening, the confession hanging in the air, a ghost of a past that neither of them could fully grasp. Finally, Kendall’s voice, small and vulnerable, broke the stillness. “Do you even still love me?”
Harry’s heart clenched. “Of course, I do, Kendall,” he reassured, reaching out to gently stroke her arm, an attempt to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. “Let’s just go to sleep.”
But as they settled into the quiet of the night, sleep seemed like a distant dream, the unspoken thoughts and feelings a cacophony louder than any spoken word. The presence of the past, embodied by Y/n, lay between them, an invisible but palpable barrier as they drifted into a restless slumber.
**
The golden hues of mid-morning streamed through the large windows of Zayn's contemporary house as Y/n pushed the door open. It was a place she had been many times before, yet the familiar surroundings felt almost alien in her changed reality.
Greeting her with a mischievous grin, Zayn's voice echoed from the sleek, modern kitchen. "You know we absolutely must throw you a grand welcome-back party, right?" He leaned against the cool marble countertop, watching her deftly maneuver through the kitchen, prepping to bake cupcakes.
Her eyes never left the mixing bowl as she responded, her voice laced with a touch of sarcasm, "Oh, absolutely not ." The rhythmic sound of the mixer blended seamlessly with her focused movements, the aroma of vanilla wafting in the air.
Zayn pushed off from the counter, approaching her with a playful determination. "Look, Y/n, you've returned from what the media is terming 'the great beyond'. They're portraying you like a lost, heartbroken soul. You deserve an evening to unwind, especially given the emotional roller coaster you've been on since your return."
Y/n sighed, sliding the tray of cupcakes into the preheated oven, her eyes reflective. "Alright, alright. I guess you're right."
His eyes lit up, an idea sparking. "And... we're inviting Harry. He needs to see just how radiant you'll be tonight."
She arched an eyebrow, feigning shock, "So, I'm not radiant right now?"
Zayn let out a chuckle, eyes raking over the oversized shirt she wore, now splattered with traces of flour and chocolate. "You look incredibly alluring in my shirt, not gonna lie. But the baking aftermath gives you a... more homely charm." His grin widened at her faux glare.
With a playful glint in her eyes, Y/n dipped her finger into a pot of frosting, deliberately hiking up the shirt slightly for effect. She slowly licked the sweet substance off, eyes locked with Zayn's.
Seizing the moment, Zayn whipped out his phone, capturing the candid moment in a boomerang for his Instagram followers. His fingers danced over the screen as he captioned it, 'Guess who's back like they never left.'
Curious, Y/n darted around the counter to peek at the post. Giggling at the image, she quipped, "I look like slut in your kitchen."
Zayn chuckled, "Let's hope Gigi spots this. She posted with some guy literally a day after our split."
Y/n’s laughter softened, her gratitude evident. "Thanks for lending me your shirt, by the way. Most of my belongings were given away, and my mom's wardrobe... let's just say, not quite my style."
He winked, offering her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, "Anytime, love. But we should start thinking about what you're going to wear tonight. It's going to be legendary."
**
The evening was draped in anticipation as Harry meticulously dressed in his finest suit, the fabric clinging perfectly to his well-sculpted frame. He was mentally preparing himself for the night ahead, a party thrown by Zayn, someone he hadn't communicated with in months. However, the image from Zayn's recent snap, showcasing Y/n in all her effortless beauty, lingered in his mind. She appeared as enchanting as he remembered, if not more so, and the thought of seeing her tonight set his heart racing.
Kendall's voice sliced through his reverie, "Where are you off to?"
"A party," Harry replied, his tone nonchalant but his mind far from calm.
Kendall, sensing an opportunity to bridge the distance that had grown between them, began to ready herself. "Well, you should've asked me to join. I can get ready in no time."
"No," Harry interjected, more sharply than he intended, "I need to do this alone. We could use some time apart, honestly."
Kendall's attempts to negotiate fell on deaf ears, her words dying in her throat as Harry’s tone escalated, "Enough, Kendall! I'm going alone." The absence of her usual endearments — no 'babe,' 'love,' or 'Kenny' — didn't escape her. His formality stung more than she expected.
"Fine. I'll stay back... make dinner maybe, for when you return," she offered, a final attempt to maintain some normalcy.
"No need," he responded curtly, his hand already on the door handle, "I'll be late."
"Okay... bye, love you," she murmured into the void he left behind, her words hanging heavy in the room. The door's slam echoed her solitude.
Driving to the party, Harry's thoughts were monopolized by Y/n. Upon arrival, he noticed the gathering was intimate, 10-15 people at most, creating an atmosphere of exclusivity. His name was cheered as he entered, and a beaming Niall emerged from the crowd, enveloping him in a warm embrace.
"Hey lad, what brings you here?" Harry inquired, genuinely surprised.
"It's for Y/n, plus, I couldn't possibly miss her famous cupcakes," Niall chuckled, the memories of those perfectly sweet treats vivid in their minds. Harry remembered being equally enamored by her baking skills, the cupcakes akin to professional patisserie standards. Niall was known to badger Y/n into baking at every opportunity.
Eager, Harry's gaze swept over the attendees, "Where is she?"
Niall shrugged, "Haven't seen her yet. Zayn would know." His words were barely out when Zayn appeared, a platter of the much-hyped cupcakes in hand.
Harry snagged one, engaging in a catch-up conversation with Zayn, just when Y/n descended the stairs. The room's energy shifted palpably, cheers erupting around her. Harry's breath hitched; she was a vision, her dress hugging her in all the right places, her beauty ethereal. Their eyes locked, a myriad of unspoken words flowing between them. She seemed to pause, a moment of hesitation, before being swept into conversation with another guest. However, their eye contact remained unbroken, both ensnared in silent dialogue while others chattered around them.
A dollop of frosting adorned Harry's cheek as he took a bite, eyes still fixated on Y/n. Excusing herself, she made a beeline for him, determination in her stride.
"May I borrow him for a sec?" Her words were directed at whoever Harry was speaking to, but her eyes never left his. Without waiting for an affirmative, she seized Harry's arm, leading him to a more secluded hallway.
"Hi," he greeted, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards in a familiar smile that she had missed so profoundly.
Her giggle was like music to his ears. Gracefully, she wiped the rogue chocolate from his face, holding her frosting-coated finger up as evidence. As she was about to lick it clean, Harry caught her hand in a swift motion, drawing her finger into his mouth. The deliberate, slow movement as he savored the frosting off her sent a surge of desire through them both.
"You know I can’t resist chocolate," he mumbled against her skin, his voice a low rumble that she felt deep in her core.
Their moment, however intense, was short-lived as Zayn’s voice boomed across the room, "Y/n, c'mon, time for drinks!"
Reluctantly breaking their bubble, she bestowed on Harry a smile that held promises, whispering with a playful edge, "You better be here when I come back." Her words hung in the air as she melded back into the party, leaving Harry entranced, counting down moments till her return.
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#watermelon sugar#fine line#harrys house#love story
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HEY HEY-
( This is like an idea inspired from the rp chats I have with oc and ai Rezef- You already know who am I)
An engaged enemies to lovers with Rezef Hill? Where name comes from a noble household that has a great influence in the empire- That at first they were like on each other's throats but then they began warming up and become allies as they share the same goal of just wanting to overthrow and humiliate the heinreich duchy? But then meanwhile they continue with their plan to make Rezef the emperor with name's help, the two of them just happen to start falling in love but don't know how to bring that up due to the fear of rejection?
You can make it either a drabble or hc, Idm! And pls take your time <33
Your health matters 🫶
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈 | 𝐑. 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋
[ AUTHOR NOTE ] Hope this doesn't flop 🥹
[ WARNINGS ] murder, hateful attitude + thoughts.
[ READER PRONOUNS ] she/her
[ WRITING STYLE ] desideria · long fic!
I hate you. That was all Name could think as she watched herself get married to him. The crowned prince stood in front of her, his eyes filled with absolute hatred.
"I do." Those words. Hollow, empty words. None of them meant it. When he leaned closer to kiss reluctantly, their lips interlocked in a barely meaning anything way of kissing.
The post wedding ball was a blur as the two were escorted for their first night together. The moment the door was closed, Rezef lashed out. Pissed off. She ducked his hit as he seemed aggravated.
"Looks like someone's mad." Name mocked as Rezef looked at her with pure hatred in his eyes. He steps closer before he grabs a fistful of her hair. "Shut up." He practically shouts as he pulled her hair. Tears swelled as she was completely in pain but her pride prevented her from those near waterworks.
Rezef smiles sadistically as he lets go of her hair before he sat down on the bed. His sapphire eyes ablaze with anger. "Now. Shall we discuss what we'll do in this relationship?" His tone meant no talking back as she could only so much as bob her head in assent despite wanting to lash out so much words towards him.
He grins with delight as he nods. "Good." He chuckles darkly. "As we both know we hate each other, I don't love you and you don't love me." She nods at this again. It was true. "Since this is the case we will only act like a couple when our parents are near. When they aren't, we'll act like complete strangers. Understood?"
She nods in affirmation. "Understood." Rezef smirked. "Very well, looks like we've come to an agreement now. Be a good doll and sleep on the floor tonight." Fuck you. She said mentally as she watched him lay down and get comfortable.
The next day she awoke from a very exhausting night. She barely got any sleep, she sighed as she rubbed her back.
This was gonna be a long life now that she knew what she was dealing with.
The good thing was that they rarely came close. Separate rooms, different schedules. Everything fit right where they should. No problem problems for everyday activities as they had different duties and they were rarely called for tea with emperor.
It was perfect. Until they both found the interest of taking down the Heinrich duchy a similar goal. This was when they decided to join forces. And only for this moment, once it was over they would go back to the old schedule.
That was what they originally thought. Because when they managed to figure out how to fit each other's talents and strengths to the puzzle. This started the relationship they thought they'd never make. The feelings they thought would never be brewed.
Rezef was quick to notice on his feelings when Name was around. He was more relaxed than before. It was if she lifted burdens of the things he couldn't do as she just fit right in. Watching her work her magic, theorizing and strategizing needed and unneeded attacks where enough to make him see that he needed her for the Empire's sake. Even for his own.
As for Name, Name found his actions ever so startling when all the bickering stopped. She found favour in his perfectionist views when it came to the number of agents to place in the mission or the people they should trust.
When it was over, could they possibly do what they promised to each other then? Just the small thought of returning to their once fruitless marriage tore each apart.
So they wouldn't. But they couldn't tell each other their reasons. In fear of being still hated by the other.
"Rezef?" Name looks up to see her husband by the door of her room. It was an odd sight. Much more unusual for the guards by the door, she thinks as she gets up.
Rezef watches her come closer. He does not deny that she was beautiful. He was lost in the thought of admiring her that he hadn't realized what Name asked. "What?" He blinks finally returning to reality.
"Are you okay?" She repeated the question. "Yes." "Then what are you-" Rezef couldn't hold himself any longer, his lips pressed on hers engulfing her into sharing a heated and passionate kiss. One that told both of them what they needed to know.
They were in love and there was no denying that now.
tagging, @sxnful-rage
#— story of the stars · fics 📖#• . desideria · long fics!#rezef hill x reader#rezef x reader#rezef hill#the villainess is a marionette x reader#the villainess is a marionette#THIS SUCKS ASS
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A little play
A modern AU Edmund x reader fic about academic rivals for @needsmth's request
First year of uni, and you already found a rival. Yay!
At first, you couldn't complain about sharing most of your classes together, since he was intelligent and cute, but when he started getting all the answers before you (and of course, he called them right), he became unbearable.
Sociology? He got it. Psychology? Easy-peasy. Economy? Wait, how come he had previous knowledge of this one? And let's not get into Philosophy, the subject you were looking forward to the most during that last year of high school.
And he was beating you on that one, too. He was so quick to answer, so quick to understand, and that when he didn't guess what the teachers would say next.
Now, he was not over-confident or smug. Even you could see that. But just that happy little smile he had on his pretty face after he won a teacher's approval was so, so annoying, sometimes you just could not resist the urge to find something to shout right after him -- a counter-argument or whatever. Whatever.
Yeah, you were not proud of that little scene you may or may not have displayed yesterday. The worst thing was his concerned look as if you were a little mad girl with no self-control. His dark eyes were tender, looking down at you. You felt sorry for him that time -- he had nothing against you. So you decided that today you were going to apologize to him.
Such decision had been made with no consideration of the long class hours that were to pass before lunch. There he was again, the smart boy. What was his name again? Oh, Edmund. Edmund and his dark wavy hair, his rosy lips uttering every right answer... You had to look down.
Coward, you told yourself. Apologize as you should, little brat, and grow up for once. No more high school drama. You graduated with honours, and you were now decided to make the best out of your college years.
The arrival of lunch was both a relief and a burden for the feeling of anticipation that surged in your chest. You walked out of the classroom, through the hallway, preparing a speech. When you entered the cafeteria, you scanned around the room. You spotted the cute boy waiting at the last of the queue, one hand in his trousers pocket. He stood straight, with almost a regal posture, and looked ahead with patience. How could he be so perfect?
You approached him, steadying your breath. Apologizing was never easy. He noticed you were walking towards him, so turned his head with curiosity.
'Hey,' he said. Low voice, soft.
'Hi,' you said. 'About yesterday...'
'Oh...' He remembered.
'Yeah, I'm sorry.' You twisted your fingers in awkwardness. 'I don't know what came unto me, I didn't mean to shout at you.'
'It's OK,' he said.
You stood there, next to him, fingers twisted. The queue was advancing, and you also needed to have lunch. Better not to wait awkwardly that long distance to the counter.
'So...,' you said, 'Edmund, right?'
'Yeah. And yours is...'
'__.'
He nodded. 'Seems we have every class together.'
'Oh, yeah. For better or for worse, you won't get rid of me so easily.'
'Pff,' he looked away, nothing to add. Then, something occurred to you.
'I guess I'll stand to a challenge,' you said, shrugging. He looked at you. 'I won't let you call all answers out so easily.'
'Well, it won't hurt a little play.' He lifted an eyebrow.
'A little play?' You mocked offence. 'Sir, I'll make you play in hard mode.'
He scoffed. 'I'm all in.'
---
Well, it is done! Hope this is what you expected, and that you like it ♡ As I previously said, my hyper-fixation on Narnia is sort of fading away, so I am unsure of what to work on next for this blog. (I knew this would happen, but I also thought I would have new fandoms to write for...)
Either way, requests are still open! No, I am not turning down your Narnia requests, so feel free to send them if you have any! But if you just want to reach out to me with other ideas, I would really appreciate it!
Oh, I'd also like to ask you, if you like this, please reblog <3 Reblogging is ten thousand times better than just liking for the Tumblr algorithm, so if you appreciate my writing...👉👈
#please reblog!#this is where i should ask you not to repost without permission or credits#please respect authors and their writing even if it seems to be “just a fanfic”#though i personally don't mind it much if you repost my fanfics#i write them for the online community#but credits are always appreciated!#just because you're online doesn't mean you are free from ethics#edmund pevensie#edmund pevensie x reader#fanfic#one shot#chronicles of narnia#narnia fanfic#my writing
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Hello! Could I request how Wukong would react to a female reader (she/they) who was previously in a toxic relationship? She has a hard time opening up and is often very hard on themselves when they do stuff wrong? Perhaps some Fluff?
After watching observing Y/N for a while, Wukong had finally nailed it! He grabbed their favorite flowers, their favorite movie, and their favorite snacks. All he had to do was not mess this up. He was about to knock on their door when he heard sobbing. He paused, instantly worried. Hopping onto the roof, he used his Phoenix Eyes for a birds-eye view of the inside of her house. Y/N was in their room, crying with her phone beside them. Squinting, he was able to read the...rather nasty messages. This wouldn’t do. Hopping back to the front door, he knocked.
When Y/N, after a few minutes, opened the front door, it was to see a smiling king holding out some flowers. When he noticed their red eyes, his expression changed to concern.
“Had a feeling you could use these, and it looks like I was right. What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“Oh...nothing. Just something dumb.” Y/N wiped her eyes.
"C'mooon. You can tell me." Wukong smiled and playfully leaned his head on their shoulder. "It's me! You know I wouldn't judge you. I'm the last person who can judge others. Y'know glass house, stones, blah blah blah."
"I still don't wanna talk about it."
"Okay, okay, that's fine. Say, why don't we head inside? I got your favorite movie, and..." He lifts up the arm carrying all the food. "Snackies!"
Y/N thinks for a bit. "I still want to take some time to myself, but...maybe being with someone would be better than stewing alone."
Wukong's smile brightened. "I promise, I won't be a bother." Even as he speaks the words Wukong knows he's a goddamn liar, but that doesn't matter right now. Once Y/N allowed the Great Sage inside, he set everything down and the two began setting things up. He noticed Y/N had left their phone on the coffee table, so the second Y/N went to the restroom he dove for it, unlocking it and going over to the text messages. The further he scrolled, the more his expression changed to one of pure anger at the many messages this ex had left behind. He had a name...good, this would make things much easier... When he heard the door open, he nearly dropped the phone in surprise, scurrying to place it back down and leap on the couch in a semi-casual position.
"Heyyyyy Y/N! So I just remembered I got somethin' to take of really quick and I promise it won't take long. Sage stuff, y'know? I promise I'll be right back as soon as I can."
"Oh! Um...okay. Be safe, Wukong."
The Monkey King gave a totally inconspicuous smile before he left the apartment. The second the Great Sage shut the door, he immediately hopped on his cloud and flew off...
...it would be about two hours before he returned to Y/N and the awaiting snacks and movie. He cursed himself for taking so long, but blood took a while to clean off. Considering he had just gotten through playing baseball with the head of a particularly revolting individual it was safe to say he'd gotten carried away, as he usually did. Now when he opened the door, he found Y/N crying upon the couch. Quickly he went over and gently put his hands on their shoulders. "What's all this about, buddy? I know I was gone for a while, and I'm really sorry, but I didn't think-"
"Wukong, am I... am I a burden?"
His golden eyes widened. "What? Of course not! What would make you say something like that?"
"It- it- it's just-" She sobbed for a minute or so before gathering up enough breath to speak. "I- m-my...I just broke up with someone an- and-" They gulped down more tears threatening to escape. "I thought when you left that you weren't coming back, and I th-thought that you ditched m-me and then I thought that everything my ex said about me was right, that...that I am a burden, a nuisance, a- a mistake!" Here she dissolved into more sobs.
The cries broke the Monkey King's heart. He held Y/N in his arms and rubbed her back, shushing her and rocking them back and forth. "Y/N don't you ever listen to anyone who says that. The last thing you are is a burden. Anyone who tells you that clearly isn't worth listening to. Hey..." He moved Y/N's chin, making them look up in his fiery eyes and golden pupils. "Guess what you are, Y/N?"
"Wh-what?"
Wukong put his forehead to hers. "My treasure. The most beautiful and unique thing to grace the mortal realms, and don't you let anyone tell you different." He rested her head upon his shoulder. "If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me, okay? No matter what the hour or circumstance."
"I will...thanks, Wukong."
They sat there like that for uncountable minutes, just Wukong holding Y/N and giving the comfort they needed. At length they would eventually begin watching the movie and sharing the provided snacks while sharing a warm blanket. Towards its end, Y/N had fallen asleep, head on Wukong's shoulder. Seeing this, Wukong turned off the TV and slowly moved to lay down, letting Y/N rest on top of him. As he ran his fingers through their hair, he made a promise to himself: He would wipe from creation any who made his darling feel a fraction of the pain their bastard ex made them feel this night.
#lmk#legomonkiekid#lmk wukong#lmk wukong x reader#lmk yandere wukong x reader#lmk yandere wukong#lmk yandere monkey king#lmk yandere monkey king x reader#lmk yandere x reader
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Pray for them
(by request, my homily from Sunday)
You and I were never meant to do this alone.
That’s what the end of today’s Gospel – the “where two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am in the midst of them” – is all about.
We are supposed to come together. We are supposed to do this together. That’s how God made us.
The point of us coming together? As Jesus tells us, it’s to pray.
There’s nothing wrong with praying for ourselves. Whether it’s our hopes, our dreams. What we know we need, what we’re afraid of. The things we don’t want to admit, even to ourselves. All of it.
Take it all to God in prayer. But don’t stop there.
You can give someone the support that they need. You can give someone the strength they need. You have the ability to change their life. And it starts when you pray for them.
This is central to our life of faith, that’s why it’s one of the Four Pillars from our Diocesan Synod, and it’s something that you and I are told to do over and over in the Bible.
St. James tells us to “pray for one another,…for the fervent prayer of a righteous person is very powerful.” (James 5:16). Your intentions for this Mass? That’s a great place to start. But this isn’t just a Sunday thing, or even a when-I-go-to-Mass thing. This is an everyday thing.
Take time every day to pray for others.
Look around you, look at the people in your life, and look at the people who cross your path. Your relative who just got the diagnosis? Your friend whose marriage is in trouble? That neighbor who’s struggling? Someone you barely know who’s headed in the wrong direction? Someone you heard about who lost their job?
That’s who God is calling you to pray for. That’s why God sent them your way.
After the Lord’s Prayer, the Our Father, what’s the most powerful prayer in the Gospels?
I’ll give you a hint – we say a version of it at every Mass.
“Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”
That’s a paraphrase of the most powerful prayer in the Gospels that’s not said by the Second Person of the Trinity. Here’s St. Matthew’s account:
When he entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” Jesus said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.”
When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.”…And Jesus said to the centurion, “You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you.” And at that very hour [his] servant was healed. (Matthew 8:5-8,10,13).
This is what St. James is talking about, when he tells us that “the fervent prayer of a righteous person is very powerful.” If you want to see God in action, pray for others.
And this is why St. Paul tells us to, “bear one another’s burdens, for in so doing you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2). Paul knows, from his own experience, that you and I need to be praying for others. Why?
Because Paul spent a big part of his life as a self-righteous accuser, and he understands human nature all too well.
And you’re thinking, “I’m not getting paid to persecute people.” I know. I’ve seen your social media. You and me? We are way too comfortable with doing it for free.
Because if you and I aren’t kneeling in prayer for someone, the odds are we’re standing in judgment over them.
It all goes back to our human nature. If you’re praying for someone…
Let’s be clear, I don’t mean the “thoughts-and-prayers” throw-away line that you hear after a tragedy or a natural disaster.
If you’re praying for someone, if you’re really praying for someone? If you’re lifting them up in prayer whenever they come to mind? If you’re taking their needs before the very throne? If you’re bringing them with you to Mass in your intentions?
That will change how you see them. You will start to see them through God’s eyes. And you cannot see someone through God’s eyes without loving them.
When you do, not only will you start to see God at work in their lives. You’ll see the opportunities that God has given you to help them.
To give them a ride to that doctor’s appointment so they don’t miss it again. To help them figure out a confusing website – so they can apply for that grant or scholarship. To watch their kids so they can go to that job interview.
Or to just listen to them and be with them.
And no matter what you do, let them know that you’re praying for them.
Not because you want them to think you’re wonderful. Not because you want them to thank you. Not because you want anything from them.
But because they need to know that you’re there for them. They need to know that you are on their side.
Because you and I were never meant to do this alone.
Sunday’s Readings
#Prayer#Judgment#God#Jesus#Catholic#Christian#Church#See them through God's eyes#Pray for them#Alone#Not Alone#Moments Before Mass
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fuck fear
I sit here in my bedroom watching travel videos, envisioning my self exploring these wondrous places. All of a sudden, a thought crosses my mind: what if I just did not care? What if I did every single thing I wanted without hesitation or even considering outside opinions? The big “What If’s” can haunt us and steer us away from so many opportunities. Asking questions beginning with those two words are usually shunned. But I believe in duality. In the chance that if something can instill doubt, then there’s a possibility it could instill belief. Follow me.
I’ve never felt 100% comfortable enough to be “me”. Hell, I’ve spent years trying to figure out who “me” even is. I was highly familiar with who I was supposed to be, who I was told to be. But inside me always lingered an excruciating longing to be more. An incomparable desire to be fulfilled. But I had no idea what that meant. I tried so many things hoping they would bring me some type of relief, but I remained insatiable.
Today, just now at 19:30 hours on a Wednesday night, I have come to understand that I was trying to make sugar out of salt. I was doing what I thought would look good, on the mere basis of “well this person looked good when they did it, so maybe I will too.” And you know what that lead me to? A whole lot of emptiness. I felt directionless, lost. So confused and unsure of self because I did not know my self.
As a child, I would dream of doing anything and everything. I did not care! The only consistency was that I was happy. I was smiling and laughing. So happy to be where I was, whether it was on the beach with my family or attending a wedding for a close friend. None of the details mattered because I felt like I had a place. I fit in. I fucking fit in, and for someone who has never truly known that feeling- it was euphoric. Complete bliss.
I still dream of happy scenarios, as it gives me a ray of hope on rainy days. But I had to force my self to feel what I buried inside. To accept that I was lonesome and hurting; that shit is not easy. Rather than resorting to a quick fix in the form of a source outside my own, I learned to embrace my pain. Saying, “Hey, yeah we are so sad and tired of feeling like this. I want to change that.” Took some balls. And lots and lots of falls.
Here, in this epiphany, I found my self countering the “What If’s” with something along the lines of “damn, you right”. Why am I so afraid of judgement, of being seen? I watched a video that I happened to stumble upon (coincidence, I think not). In the video, they mention being judged for who they are. They main message was when we die, the opinions of any being on this earth will not matter. I feel it is a matter of trying to control things outside of me. If you haven’t met me: Hi, my name is T and chaos is not my strong suit. I like order, I like certainty- as I’m sure most of us do. I’ve noticed my hands have grown weary from holding on to shit that no longer serves me. Due to arthritis and carpel tunnel running in my family, I will be releasing these attachments.
Thought it’s been a whopping 20 something minutes, I truly feel that a burden has lifted. Just the realization is magnificent. My future, my life has always been in my hands, as life is an experience. Life is a journey and the only thing I can worry about is my vehicle. We all flow smoothly when we focus on ourselves rather than trying to control outside of us. It feels better, too. More peaceful. *CHEERS*
So here, I am unfolding to you, dear reader. My personal vow with my self to not give a flying, walking, dancing fuck of how I’m viewed. Whispers are behind closed doors for a reason- I don’t need to open any doors, the right ones will open for me.
Take care, and be you. Truly.
#divine feminine#intuition#healing#fearless#overcome#mental health#artists on tumblr#creative writing#love#happiness#blogger#blog#power#photography#writers on tumblr#self love#self care#recovery#spilled thoughts
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The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known (Part Three)
Draco was itching to see Potter, desperately curious to know what he might learn next about the other man.
And, if he was being honest, a bit desperate to see if Potter would let him touch him again. Nothing untoward, just... it had felt nice to let his fingers tangle in Potter's curls, to know that his hands were helping instead of hurting.
He found himself, for possibly the first time ever, leaving early to arrive at Potter's house for movie night. The normal hum of anxiety, making his skin a hint too tight, seemed to have been reduced to a mere pinprick in the trips of his fingers at the prospect of learning more about Potter.
When he showed up in the living room, Potter was nowhere to be seen. Casually, he greeted everyone who made eye contact on his way through, heading to the kitchen, hoping to find Potter there.
He pushed the door open, and there he was, standing on the other side of the island, working diligently at several different spreads of food. "Gin, can you grab the olives from the-" he said before looking up and seeing Draco standing there. "Draco," he said in surprise and something pleasant flared in his stomach at the sound of his name in Potter's mouth, "err. Malfoy," he corrected, trying to look anywhere but at him. "Sorry. I thought-"
"I can help," he said, moving toward the cupboard and pulling down the can of olives.
"You're a guest," he argued.
Draco shrugged, "I'm woefully single and," he added, lowering his voice and raising an eyebrow, "Ginerva and Pansy seemed rather busy when I walked through a moment ago."
Potter groaned, "not the mental image I needed right now." He shook his head, "Well, if you don't mind would you grab that punch bowl from the counter?"
"Still hung up on Ginerva?" he asked casually as he moved to get the red punch bowl for the other man.
"Pfft," Potter snorted as he set out the juice, ginger ale, and gin on the top of the island. "Don't be ridiculous. We're friends, when I say she's like a sister to me, I genuinely mean it."
He hummed, something easing in his chest at the admission, he wasn't going to look too hard at that.
"What about you and Pansy?" Potter asked, glancing up at him before going back to measuring liquid in the punch bowl.
"What about us?"
Potter lifted a shoulder, "Ever feel like you might want that again?"
"With Pansy?" he asked incredulously. "Disgusting."
Laughing, Potter replied, "you didn't used to seem to think so, all that lounging in her lap and having your hair stroked."
"Potter, I don't know what I have ever done to give you the impression that I am attracted to women. Aside from being a touch and affection starved teenager, apparently."
At that, Potter looked up at him, blinking a few times, "You're gay?"
"Yes?" he replied. "I thought literally everyone knew that." He glanced down where Potter was still pouring gin into the punch, "You're overflowing your bowl," he said.
"Huh?" Potter asked, still staring at him uncomprehendingly.
"Your punch bowl," he said, nodding at it, "You're overflowing."
Potter followed his gaze, "Shit," he gasped, ceasing pouring and casting a quick charm to clean up the spill.
Draco cleared his throat uncertainly, it had been a long time since he'd felt anything akin to embarrassment about his sexuality.
"Sorry," Potter said, glancing up at him. "I didn't mean to-"
"You apologize a lot," Draco commented.
Potter tilted his head, "I put my foot in my mouth a lot," he said.
He chuckled, "I suppose, but you also apologize for existing."
His jaw clicked shut, clenching. "I don't know what you mean."
Draco realized that he'd stumbled onto something seemingly sensitive without exactly meaning to. "I mean," he said carefully, "That you've apologized to me for being surprised about something, for having basic human needs like someone to help with all of the work of hosting a party every week, for not knowing who was walking in your kitchen, for telling me about your life as though it's some sort of burden-"
"You sound like my therapist," Potter said, shoulders tense. He avoided making eye contact and Draco felt his heart twist uncomfortably.
Potter had been honest with him, had handed Draco little bits of himself like a gift. Taking a deep breath, he decided to return the sentiment with a little vulnerability of his own. "Yes, well," he said, voice light, "I've spent enough time with mine to know what one sounds like."
The other man tilted his head at Draco, "I didn't know you saw a therapist."
"No one does," he said with a shrug. "But I needed to," he continued. "I was really fucked up after the war, still am if I'm being honest. He helps me straighten out my thoughts, you know? Get things into order a bit."
Potter nodded, "Yeah. I get that."
He gave the other man a tentative smile, "So," he said, intent on changing the subject, "What needs to go out there?"
"Oh, none of it," Potter said, waving a hand. "This is all stuff to refill later. Sometimes we get busy playing games or I don't want to miss the movie," he hurried to add like his needed an excuse. "Plus at the beginning of the night, I feel like I'm intruding," he added, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh come now, Potter," he teased, "Don't you simply love being the third wheel?"
The other man laughed, "Or fourth in the case of Ron, Hermione, and Blaise."
"And who doesn't love the lectures about putting yourself out there more?"
He nodded, "Or the pitying, 'you're next.'" he added with a shudder. "Merlin I hate that."
"So, instead of enduring their advice and pity, you were hiding in the kitchen-"
"I wasn't hiding!" he protested, but he was laughing, eyes bright.
Draco continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "-and doing what exactly?"
"Daydreaming," Potter replied, a little shyly, tipping his head down and glancing up at Draco from under his eyelashes.
"Anything interesting?"
Potter shook his head, "Never. They're all terribly mundane-"
"Tell me?" he asked softly, barely daring to hope the other man might because the truth was that both of the daydreams Potter had given him had made him feel more feelings than he could even name.
He tilted his head again, looking curiously at Draco. "There's this one I have in the kitchen a lot, actually," he said, voice soft, wrapping Draco up in the cozy, casual intimacy of a soft confession.
Draco sat down on the stool across from Potter and leaned his chin in his hand to listen.
Bemused, Potter continued, "It's just this daydream of him coming into the kitchen, seeing that I'm working on something that I'm not particularly enjoying, and putting his hands over mine. Sometimes it's dishes, or cooking, or cleaning up, or prep work," he said gesturing to the counter full of things to be brought out later. "But he gently empties my hands and holds them in his as he turns he around to look at him."
He said nothing when Potter paused, waiting with baited breath for him to complete the picture.
With a little shake of his head Potter continued, "I expect that he'll kiss me and I lean my body into his to receive one but he just pulls me into his arms and dances me around the kitchen. We sway and turn to music that only he can hear and I don't mind not being able to anticipate where he'll lead. It's nice just to be held and cared for," he finished with a little shrug.
"You've got a lovely mind," Draco murmured, because it was true and he really enjoyed hearing about the ways that he daydreamed.
"It's a trauma response," Potter replied, matter-of-factly.
"Sorry?"
He shrugged, eyes on Draco's left ear as he said, "I learned how to dissociate when I was pretty young. I was always trying to imagine a better world than the one I lived in as a child," he added. "So I just got good at imagining things that made me feel better."
"What were you trying to dissociate from?" he asked as the door to the kitchen opened.
Potter's attention snapped away from Draco and to whomever had just entered the kitchen, "Hi Blaise," he said with a smile. "What are you looking for?"
"You, actually," he replied as he sidled up next to Draco. "We were wondering about getting a game of Exploding Snap going?"
"Yeah," Potter said, grinning at him, "No problem. I'll be out in a sec to get the cards."
Blaise rapped his knuckles on the table, "You're the best," he said with a wink before he disappeared.
Potter turned to look at Draco, "Sorry-"
"Why?" he interrupted.
"Why what?"
"Why are you sorry?"
His brow furrowed as he looked at Draco, "I just trauma dumped on you."
"You didn't," he replied. "Why are you sorry?" he pushed.
"Because I spent five minutes talking about a daydream that wasn't even based in reality."
"I asked you to," he replied steadily. "Why are you sorry?"
"Why are you pushing me?" he asked, hands on his hips as he scowled at Draco.
He shrugged, "Because I want you to stop apologizing for being a person."
"I-"
"Harry!" Ron bellowed from the other room and Draco could have strangled him.
"For Merlin's sake," he hissed under his breath. "Yes, coming!" he called. "Fine," he snapped at Malfoy, "I'm not sorry. Is that better?"
"Much," he replied with a smirk.
"You're impossible," Potter replied but the corner of his mouth was turned up in a pleased smile.
He nodded, "I know, if you ask Pansy it's probably one of the reasons I'm single," he said with a wink.
Potter picked up one of the bowls of chips, "Really?" he asked. "I find it rather charming," he said before pushing his way out into the living room.
Draco had to stand in the kitchen and pick his jaw up off the floor before he found himself able to leave the kitchen and join everyone else.
-------------------
(Part Two) | (Part Four)
#drarry#falling in love#talks about dissociation#soft#day dreaming#fluff#tentative flirting#draco and harry are both soft#part 3#tenderness
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Elain x Lucien | Echoes of the Past
type: angst
warning(s): talk about abuse, talk about death
word count: 2k words
summary: After a nightmare, Elain and Lucien take a moment to open up and talk about their fears and Lucien‘s past that still haunts him. Thank you @moonlightazriel for helping me with the title 🖤
- all rights reserved -
The Autumn Court male stirs awake, sheets damp with sweat clutching to his skin. His chest is heaving rapidly, his knuckles white from how tightly they grab the sheets. Air wheezes in and out of his lungs when Lucien finally manages to lift his gaze. His eyes land on his mate. Elain‘s own eyes are glazed, empty, almost dead, her lower lip trembling when Lucien meets her gaze.
Elain has a thin blanket wrapped around her otherwise nude body, sitting crossed-legged on the bed, shuddering.
The words hurt, burn her throat, and make a crack appear in her heart when she opens her mouth. But she has to say them. She finally has to address this. It has been so long, they need to talk about it. Dread about what she is going to say curls in her stomach, her throat working on a swallow.
“You still love her.” A statement. Not a question.
Lucien startles for a moment–what is his mate referring to? He furrows his brows, skin clammy with sweat when he tries to order his thoughts. Tries to think about what Elain has referred to.
The Autumn Court male blinks a few times, his eyes burning from being terribly sleep-deprived. He cranes his neck, hoping to ease some of the tension that has built up from the restless sleep.
“Your heart was beating rapidly,” the Archeron sister comments, lowering her gaze, long lashes drawing shadows on her sunken cheeks.
“I…I had a nightmare,” Lucien rasps, his throat burning with a scream, his jaw aching. Did he scream in his sleep? Has he been gritting his teeth the whole night?
“You dreamt about her, Lucien. You said her name,” Elain says. There is no tone of anger or jealousy in her voice. Because she is not angry or jealouse. The way in which she says it is just…disappointed, hurt. “Jesminda.”
“I…I don’t remember. I might have…I might have dreamt about her.” Lucien wipes his hand over his forehead, clearing it of the sweat. His heart beats rapidly against his rib cage, a tangy, bitter feeling reaching him through the bond. Disappointment. Not jealousy that he has said Jesminda’s name. Jealousy from Elain always tastes sour. But she is not jealous now. She is hurt. He has hurt her by saying his former lover‘s name.
Because yes, he dreamt about Jesminda…but it was not about their time together. Not one single moment was about their life together. It was…it was nothing good. Nothing positive. It was simply pain, anguish, fury.
It was about how Jesminda died. How Beron killed her.
Lucien still can see his father’s face in that moment, can see it bright and clear in his vision–the vicious grin on Beron’s face, the disgusted grimace when he found out that Lucien was with Jesminda.
And that are not the only things. Lucien can still hear her screams, those painful, dreadful, screams. He can still feel his helplessness, this helplessness that even today makes his stomach cramp with nausea – he hadn‘t been able to save her.
And now, Elain, his wonderful Elain, understood it completely wrong. She now thinks Lucien dreamt about Jesminda, about their time together.
Lucien still now, and even with his mate, finds it hard to talk about what has happened then. He does not want to burden Elain with his traumatic past, with his pain. He knows Elain did also have to go through a not so easy past, he does not want to worry her, pain her even more. But apparently exactly this –pain– is now filling his lovely mate and reaching him through the bond.
“I am sorry that I will never be like her. That I will never be her.”
“Elain,” Luciens rasps, sitting up, the blanket falling to his lap. “That is not at all what I—“
The Archeron sister moves her hand over her mate’s, squeezing softly. She closes her eyes for a moment, a stray tear escaping though. It tastes sour when it lands on her lip.
“I don’t want you to be like her. I don’t want you to be her. I want you the way you are. You are perfect the way you are. I love you the way you are.” Lucien brings his hand up, placing it on Elain’s shoulder. His thumb wipes over her cheek, now wet with more tears. “I don’t want you to change or feel like the way you are right now is not correct. Or good.”
Biting down on her lower lip, Elain swallows a sob, hesitantly lifting her gaze to her mate’s. “But I am not who should be with you. I am not quirky. Or loud. Or extroverted. I am not outgoing, or—“
“And who says that this is what I want?”
Elain’s chin lowers. She gazes at her hand–the hand that still holds her mate’s. “You said it in your dream. You talked about her. This is enough for me to know that I—“
“I wasn’t honest with you. Yes, I dreamt about Jesminda, but…” Lucien’s voice trembles, his eyes trained on his mate’s teary cheek. “I dreamt about her in no other way than seeing her die all over again. It is always the same dream–always my father’s cruelty being in the foreground. And yes, I dreamt about Jesminda, but she always only plays a little roll in this dream. In the foreground is always my father’s cruelty. The shock about what he was capable of. About what he did. And fuck—“
Lucien smacks his hand that is not in Elain’s hold down on the mattress. He fists the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut and releases a low groan, shaking his head rapidly.
“Why do I call it dream? It is a fucking nightmare. I always, since centuries, dream about what my father did to me, to Eris, to all my brothers. To the people of the Autumn Court, to my mother. It haunts me, day and night. Day and night I am forced to think about what he is capable of. If he so easily killed Jesminda, what did he do to my mother in all those years I haven’t been there?”
Lucien’s throat constricts, he finds himself unable to continue, tears brimming his eyes. His vision is blurry when he meets Elain’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.
“You could have talked to me. You shouldn’t have to deal with this all alone,” Elain breathes, leaning forward and placing her head on her mate’s shoulder. She looks up at him through damp lashes. “I hope Beron rots in hell for what he has done to you. And if I could…if I could send him to hell myself without causing uproar in Prythian, I would do it. I would send him to hell and make it slow and painful.” Elain tips her head back, kissing her mate’s jaw, now also damp with tears. “I want to hurt him the same way he hurt you. Worse. I want him to bleed for ever hurting you. But Lucien, you shouldn‘t deal with this all alone. I am here for you, always.“
Lucien’s lips part, trembling, his hands shaking. “Elain, I–” he whispers, leaning his head against hers.
“Don’t,” she interrupts, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to tell me how I can help you. It doesn’t matter that I am not the one you would have wished for at your side. I am still your mate. We still have this bond. I want to help you overcome those fears. This trauma. Tell me how I can help you. Tell me how I can be there for you.”
“You are already here for me enough,” Lucien says, cradling Elain’s cheek in his palm. HIs thumb brushes her lips. “Yes, I loved Jesminda. I loved her with my whole heart. But she is no longer here. You are here now, Elain. You are my mate. The one person I love the most in this whole entire world. My number one. My priority always. You are all and everything I want. All and everything I desire. Not only because you are my mate. Because you are my equal, you make me complete, you are my other half. You have those traits that I have been missing my whole life. I love you more than I can put into words. And it is you I want to have at my side, now and forever. It is you, only you and that until the rest of our immortal lives. It will only ever be you.”
A breathy sob leaves Elain but she gets no chance to answer.
“You being in my life is enough. Since…since we share a bed at night. Since I have you falling asleep in my arms at night I barely have had any nightmares. Only when you are gone the come back. It is you who brings me comfort. You who brings me peace and a feeling of safety. Of security. I know that I am safe here. I know that I am safe with you. And I know that you are safe here. Safe with me. Safe in my arms. In this place.”
The Autumn Court male leans back to look at his mate for a moment. Then he closes the distance between them, softly kissing Elain's forehead.
“You are safe with me, Lucien,” Elain says, moving her hand over Lucien's that is still on her cheek.
But her hand does not stay on his for too long. She moves over to her mate’s face, slowly, carefully tracing the tip of her index finger over the scar on his face. Lucien has only shortly told her the story about his metal eye, her blood still burning with fury about what was done to him.
To Elain, her Lucien is, with or without the scar, the most beautiful male she has ever seen. His beauty is outstanding. Her breath catches every time she looks at him. The scar does nothing to dim his gorgeous appearance. Elain knows that Lucien has been self-conscious about his scar, but she finds time every single day of their shared time to convince him of his beauty. And anyways, the beauty of Lucien's character would anyways outshine every small flaw on his skin. “I will never let anyone cause you pain again,” Elain whispers, absently drawing her fingers over his scar. “Not once will anyone every touch you. Or hurt you. This is a promise, my lord. I will always protect you. Always until the very last day, you will have my protection.”
Lucien smiles, warmth filling his heart, his cheeks. He leans into his mate’s touch, turning his head so he can kiss her palm. A rich and warm feeling reaches him through the bond–love, admiration. He kisses his mate’s palm again, lips curling against her slightly callused skin. She has been working in the garden a lot lately. The back of her hands were as soft as clouds while the insides where always a bit rougher, a bit callused from all her work outside. Lucien loved this. Loved this so much about her. Loved her so much.
But too soon the warm feeling leaves, being replaced by something cooler, something heavy. Sorrow. “What was different about tonight? Why could I not make you feel safe tonight?”
His answer comes almost immediately, like he has been expecting her to ask it.
“Today is the anniversary of her death and of me running away from the Autumn Court. Rather fleeing, escaping. Finding shelter with…Tamlin,” Lucien explains, swallowing thickly. “On this day everything is always a bit overwhelming. That is it.”
“You should have told me about it,” Elain says, a tear rolling down her cheek and into her parted lips. It tastes sour on her tongue and Elain sniffs. “You can tell me those things.”
“I know. I did not want to burden you, Elain. I know you didn’t have an easy past either. I did—“
“My past compared to you is nothing.”
“We should not compare trauma, my love. I know how hard it has been for you. I know you suffered. My past was different but that does not mean that it has caused me more pain or trauma than your past did.”
Under tears and with her whole body shuddering, Elain gently places a kiss to the corner of her mate’s mouth. “I love you so much, Lucien.”
Lucien tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing over Elain’s. “I love you more than anything in this world, Elain. Never ever doubt your place at my side. This is were you belong. This is where you should be. This is where I should be. Right by your side. With you. As your mate.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tags: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger
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part of you, part of me
The strangest of things that could ever occur was a divinity falling in love with a mortal. Such a thing, you would only hear about it in faerie tales that mothers would tell their children before it was time to venture into a land of dreams.
Aymeric had always believed himself a realist. In his aim to lead Ishgard into a brighter future, he had no time to revel in such childhood stories. Not when peace talks were being done, alliances made, all to ensure a more peaceful era.
Such irony was it that a woman whose heritage claimed to be of a divinity currently walked within the walls of Ishgard--and within the borders of his heart. A Hyuran woman of sun-kissed complexion dotted with droplets of stars, with ebony hair and obsidian eyes, fascinated by the world around her. Venus, her name was, carried true divinity within her blood and yet was not so worldly to the realm of mortals.
"Do not all the gods watch what we do?" Aymeric had asked Venus once, as snow began to fall afresh over Ishgard. A marveling Venus lifted her hand to catch the flakes within her palm and simply answered thus: "Not many of the gods do. My sire does, yet has kept me shielded until I made the choice to abscond here."
Aymeric could not help but feel pangs of adoration and envy for Venus, at how she moved freely as the wind, and spoke of a world beyond the fabric of Eorzea--a world where the divinity stayed. He found amusement when Venus once said, "Lady Halone does cherish the people of Ishgard. The souls you worry of finding peace have done so in her grace."
In exchange did Aymeric say tales of the mortal world, of how Eorzea's people had aligned to reach true peace. Venus listened with such rapt attention, asking so many questions akin to childlike curiosity. It was endearing, truly. It moved his heart to bring such joy to Venus' countenance.
Now, as grey clouds loomed overhead, a chill had gripped Ishgard. Venus had wandered off and Aymeric took it upon himself to seek her out. Light snowfall began, melting upon the cobblestone streets upon contact, as Aymeric looked to and fro for the wandering goddess.
Just little ways beyond the cathedral, overlooking the rest of Ishgard, stood Venus. Her hands were against the stone railing, the cold wind toying with her hair. Exhaling a breath of relief, Aymeric approached the goddess, keeping his strides careful and even so as to not startle her. She glanced at him once he was fully at her side. "Weren't you supposed dealing with matters of state?" she asked curiously.
Aymeric shook his head. "That has been concluded, in a rather timely fashion," he answered. "What brings your thoughts out here?"
Venus gave a rather light shrug. "I wonder if my being here is causing situations for you in which you've had to defend me. If I am burdening you with my presence. I've said before, Aymeric, that Ishgard's people would see me as a heretic even if they see proof of my divinity before their very eyes."
"I recall. I've also asked for you to let me protect you."
"You did. I suppose I...worry. I am not a mortal woman. I am not of some noble house. What if this jeopardized everything you've striven to build?"
Aymeric's expression softened as he reached out toward Venus. His fingers caressed along the line of her jaw, the tips brushing against her cheek, prompting Venus to bring her gaze to him. No words were exchanged; just the simple action of Venus lifting her own delicate hands to touch along Aymeric's wrist and hand.
"This will jeopardize nothing," he murmured, curling his fingers over her seeking ones. "If I must, I will throw it away. Let the people elect another Speaker if it means that you will no longer worry."
"You don't need to do that. You're bringing Ishgard to a new dawn," replied Venus, her brows furrowing.
Letting out a soft breath, Aymeric moved his arms, winding them to bring Venus into an embrace. "Then you need not worry. You have become a part of my heart, Venus. So long as you remain, I will devote my all to you," he promised, his intentions clear. He was not going to shy away from the feelings he experienced with her, not going to second guess himself on his own happiness.
Her happiness was his own. She had become part of him. And surely, she must have felt the same for she did not pull away or rebuke his words.
Instead, Venus leaned closer into his embrace, her own arms banding around Aymeric tightly. "And I you. If I could right, I would renounce my divine blood and just live as a regular woman at your side..."
"You needn't change a thing about yourself," Aymeric chastised, his fingers seeking the ebony locks that flowed down Venus' back. "I did not fall in love with you for what could be changed. It was simply for you being as you are."
"Is that a promise?"
"It is. And I will prove it to you, every day."
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