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court-jester-stuff · 17 hours

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Sharing a room with a not so stranger

Azriel x reader

Warnings?: reader is shorter than Azriel, not beta we die like suriel, kinda rushed? idk it's 23:54 so meh enjoy

Note: the library is based of off the acropolis and what I image Olympus would look like, so is all the rest of the Day Court. pictures from pinterest

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"So sorry to bother you," a voice said from behind you. "Can I ask you for a favour?" Turning around you came face to face with Elain. She was dressed beautifully, a light pink coloured dress with a corset with flowers embroidered onto it, sleeves of the shoulders with on the shoulders and wrist embroidered the same flowers as the corset. Her hair was loose with a few braids which all had flowers in it. Truly you’d be lying if you said she didn’t look pretty.

“That depends on what the favour is of course.” You answered her with a smile. In all honesty you hoped it would be something entertaining, these past couple of days have been fun here at the Day Court but you were slowly growing bored. This whole event was to celebrate summer solstice, the Night Court was specifically invited by High Lord Helion as a means to grow a stronger alliance. A full two weeks of celebrating and getting to know each other.

Elain looked behind her and when you followed her gaze you could see Lucien standing in the doorway smiling at her and giving her an encouraging nod.

“Would you, by any chance, …” she trailed of looking at me with an air of hesitance. Giving her a little push you asked:

“Would I…?”

Elain sighed a little but finished her sentence. “Would you mind if Azriel and I switched rooms?” She paused to let the words sink in. “I would really like to try giving this a chance and we already asked Azriel and he’s fine with it, but only if you are. And I know you two aren’t all that familiar with each other but I would really appreciate this.”

At last she stopped talking to gage your reaction only to see a little smile on your face. “My dear, I would not mind at all. You two deserve this moment to try and see where this all leads you.” She perked up at your words and you could see Lucien visibly relax in the corner of your eye. “If Azriel is comfortable with this all then I do not mind.”

She thanked you and said that they would be sure to inform Azriel of you agreeing before they both took their leave.

Once they did take their leave you started thinking about what you just agreed to. In all honesty you and Azriel hadn’t really spoken in quite a while. As members of the Inner Circle it was kind of inevitable but that still didn’t change the conversations you had had with him.

He never seemed to speak much, especially not to you. Only during the rare times that he would ask for help with an injury would you two really talk. And even then it was mostly you talking to him about how to take care of the wound even though he has probably done so a million times.

You’d always find him looking at you with deep eyes whenever you’d look up from your work. He never really seemed to take his eyes off of you while you were working. Whether he was guarded or something else you couldn’t quite decide.

Outside of that there were a few conversations you had had with the spymaster. But lately that had started to change. You were in the habit of sneaking away during each social event to lend yourself a moment of fresh air before stepping back into the crowded rooms. However these last couple of, hell, years you always seemed to get the company of a certain shadowsinger wherever you had decided to sneak of to.

Not that you mind, in all honesty you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him. Each conversation, each interaction left you yearning for more. You wanted to hear him speak to you, you wanted to know who he was outside of this persona he had been given.

Deciding that you should try to make things easier for the both of you lead to you walking back to the room you previously shared with Elain with the goal in mind of tidying up a bit. Once there you put away any clothing that was lying around, noting that all of Elain her stuff had already been moved.

The room wasn’t big by any means, in fact you and Elain had specifically requested a smaller sized room. There was a wall with a huge window opposite of the door with the bed against the left wall and a couch on the opposite side next to the window.

Once you deemed the room clean enough you realized that the room might be cozy for you and Elain but Azriel would have trouble getting comfortable in the bed were there someone else in it. Deciding that there wouldn’t be enough space on the bed for both you while allowing his wings to rest comfortably and without the fear of accidental touching, you made the decision to move a pillow and blanket to the couch. Moving that what was on the night stand to the little table next to the couch.

A knock on the door made you pause. Assuming that it was either Elain or Azriel you went to open the door, only to be surprised by a smiling Helion.

“High Lord.” You said with a small bow of the head. You’ve always liked the man, he was polite and kind. A bit of a flirt maybe but still aware of boundaries. And he ruled his court exceptionally well. All people were well taken care of and very rarely did they find themselves in conflict with other courts. Compared to the Night Court which carried the looming darkness of The Court of Nightmares and Hewn City that was very admirable.

“Oh you, there is no need for such titles. Call me Helion, please.” He chuckled a bit at the formality of it all but still kept a smile on his face as he corrected you.

“Well then Helion, is there anything I can help you with?”

His smile widened a little at your question. His eyes sparkling a little. “I heard that you take care of a large portion of all the knowledge that is stored in the Night Courts library, I must say it is quite the collection. One to be proud of.”

Mirroring his smile you replied with a hint of proudness to your voice. “Yes, indeed. I travel a lot and when I do I can’t help but try to take at least one book with me to further the collection you speak so highly of.”

“Well, the Day Court does have quite the library as well and I thought that I could interest you in taking a look around.” He gestured with his hand down the left corridor.

Your gaze followed the direction from his hand before looking back inside the room. Everything seemed in order for when Azriel would arrive. “Is it just down the hallway?” You ask.

He shakes his head with the same smile on his face that has been there since you opened the door. “Why don’t I show you there, it’s a bit of a maze in here.”

You nodded and walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind you before making your way to the library. The empty hallways were filled with easy going small talk between the two of you before you eventually reached the library.

To say that it was beautiful would be an understatement. It was truly breathtaking. It looked like a place where gods would walk, the high ceilings and windows with no glass allowed as much natural light in as possible. The walls were a cream colour with beautiful paintings on the ceilings.

You should remember to tell Feyre so she could come get a look.

The bookcases were white with golden accents, they crowded the entire room except for the space right before the window. Leaving enough space for several couches and a table surrounded by chairs. Even the wood of the furniture was a light colour.

You don’t know how long you simply admired the space but when you turned around Helion was looking at you with a proud smile and a look of admiration on his face.

He clears his throat and says: “It’s beautiful is it not?” You weren’t really sure what to say. It was beautiful but outside of the beauty of it you were also surprised by its sheer size. Maybe it was the lighting but it looked so much more spacious than the library at the House Of Wind.

“It is very beautiful, I honestly don’t really know what to say. The lighting and colours are so much brighter than those of the ones we have. Even the books match the pale colours. And the amount of books here is admirable. This truly is a fine library.”

“Well, I am more than happy to have shown it to you. Please, feel free to look around and spent as much time here as you please. I’m afraid I cannot stay with you for much longer, duty calls, but rest assured that you are more then welcome in this library. Or even my court.”

You smiled slightly at his words and told him you would keep it in mind. It wasn’t for long before he excused himself and left you to your own company.

You roamed around looking for any books that peaked your interest and finally settled on a handful of them. You found another window with seating space, albeit this on smaller, and settled down on the plush couch facing slightly away from the window.

You don’t know how much time you spend sitting there but when you finally looked up from the third book that you were reading you realized that the sun had set and the sky was now adorned with stars. Granted, there weren’t as many or as bright of ones as in Valaris but it was a sight none the less.

Deciding to call it a night you got up and realised just how long you had been sitting in that same position you stretched and gathered the books you had laying around you. Walking up to the desk you left the books there for someone to find in the morning.

The hallways were quiet now, beside your own steps and breathing there as nothing to be heard.

Ones you had made your way back to your room you were very careful while opening the door as to not startle or wake up Azriel.

When the door was open far enough to slip inside you did so carefully, the room was bathed in moonlight and given the light you could see Azriel’s sleeping figure on the bed. He had moved himself fairly far to the window leaving enough space for a second person to lay down next to him if needed.

But you didn’t need to and getting in the bed would mean having to move his left wing out of the way and you weren’t about to touch the one place that Illyrians loathed to be touched.

Quietly making you way to the bathroom you quickly changed into night clothing and treaded very lightly to the couch. You laid down and when you finally settled you felt something twirling itself around your fingers. Looking down you realised it was a shadow. You smiled at it, mouthing good night before it parted from you to return to their master and with that you went off into slumber.

When you woke up again there was not yet any sunlight in the room. You looked over at the clock on the wall above the door and noted that it was almost time for sunrise. You looked over at Azriel realising he was still fast asleep and decided to take one of the books of your little makeshift nightstand before shuffling to the open balcony.

It must be a dream for winged people to be able to simply fly up to their rooms from the outside without having to first enter and walk both the hallways and stairs.

You sat down on a sofa that was located opposite to where the bed stood so you could keep an eye on Azriel in case he were to awake.

Before long the sunrise started, it was truly magnificent. The colours weren’t simply red, pink and yellow. No, you were sure you could make out nearly the entire rainbow from the sky.

You once again felt a little coolness around your fingers which finally prompted you to look away from the scenery.

“Hello you, we meet again.” You smiled softly at it while speaking in a whisper, mindful of the early time. “What are doing over here, hm? Shouldn’t you be guarding your master?”

It moved around your fingers and palm before deciding to return to the figure on the bed. Looking over you realised you had been caught making small talk with a shadow.

From the bed a tired looking Azriel looked at you with eyes of wonder. “Good morning.” You greeted. “You should go back to sleep, it’s still very early.” Which granted it was. Looking at the clock once more you saw that it read six.

He hummed as if in thought before turning his head into the pillows and stretching. His legs coming out from beneath the blanket and his wings stretching wide. They nearly hit the wall on his right from how wide they were.

He relaxed again before letting himself fall back into the mattress. For a bit you thought he had taken your advice but alas he started turning so he could sit up in bed.

His hair was frizzled and stood a little upright. He had dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy look covering his face. He blinked a few times before moving to sit with his legs over the side of the bed. The blanked had fallen and you couldn’t help but look at his chest, the muscles well defined, quite a few scars, some bigger than the others and a tattoo covering the entirety of his upper chest. It looked just like the shadows that had started swirling around him again.

Curling through his hair and around his ear, likely whispering little things they noticed or deemed important enough.

Deciding the stop gaping at the male you moved your eyes back to the other side, the sunset nearly over by now. Even though only a matter of two to three minutes could have one by the sun had risen fast. Likely a Day Court thing. It shone brightly and you could feel it’s light gently ceres your skin.

Feeling a presence nearby you noticed that Azriel had started moving towards you, yawing in the process before settling down next to you in the sofa.

You sat in comfortable silence for a bit before he spoke. “The sunrise is likely the only thing I enjoy about this court.” You smiled gently at his words before looking over at him.

He was looking at the sunrise with a small smile on his face before he turned his attention to you. His eyes seemed to soften a little bit more when they met yours.

“How did you sleep? I heard you come in quite late and you were up early.” He noted with a small furrow of his brow. Although the gentle smile stayed on his face.

“I slept pretty decent actually. I had lost myself in a book in the library so I was back rather late, I am sorry if I woke you.” You replied back, spoken in soft voices.

He assured you that you had not awoken him, rather he himself were still awake.

“I noticed one of my shadows with you this morning, they don't usually do that. Have they done that before? Because I’ll tell them off if they make you uncomfortable, although I must say that it did not seem that way just now.”

You beamed slightly at his words. “I don’t mind at all, in fact they are rather nice.” You smiled a little brighter as some of them immediately darted towards you, some playing with your fingers other roaming around, a few even went into your hair.

Azriel looked slightly startled as they did this. “I think last night while I went to lay down was the first time. Whichever one it seemed to have wanted to come say goodnight to me.” You thought for a bit, admiring them before realisation hit you. “Wait, actually, I think they might have done that before. Back during Solstice a few of them curled around my arm when I passed you. I completely forgot about that.”

You looked over at him and he seemed to be deep in thought, his brow was really furrowed now and his smile was no longer. When he didn’t seem to snap out of it you placed your hand on his wrist.

He blinked in surprise before looking at you hand on him which had him frowning once more.

You removed your hand before clearing you throat. “Sorry, I would have taken your hand but you seem to always shy away when people do that. I shouldn’t have assumed that your wrist would be any different.”

He looked up at you expression unchanging. He opened his mouth to say something right as a knock sounded from the door. You looked over at it before deciding to go over and see who it was. You looked back over at him to see him still staring. You gave him a little smile, after apologizing again you stood up and made your way to the door.

You opened it just after another knock sounded and were surprised to see your own High Lord.

He looked slightly surprised by you before giving a smile. “Well good morning, it seems our dear Azriel is in good hands then.” He chuckled softly, mindful of those still sleeping.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong or what he had meant you felt a hand on your waist. While the other grasped the door besides your head.

“Can we help you Rhys?” Azriel sounded kind of agitated, a clear difference from simple moments ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Rhysand was here or because you touched his wrist.

“Not necessarily, I simply wanted to check in on you both. I had heard from Feyre that Elain and our dear Azzy here had switched rooms.” He said the last part while grinning at you.

Before either of you could say anything else Azriel decided that the High Lord and his brother had overstayed his welcome. “If you aren’t here for a decent reason could you let us be?”

He surprised you with that but the high fea before you seemed unbothered, maybe even pleased.

“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t want to bother you two. Remember that meeting we have at nine.” He barely finished speaking when Azriel pulled you back into him begore closing the door.

You both stood there for a moment until you decided to turn around. Only then did you notice how close he really was and how very bare his chest still was.

After a second of standing in a daze staring at his chest and tattoo you seemed to come back to reality when you moved backwards a step, which in turn caused your back to hit the door. You looked up and Azriel followed your step until his arm was pressed into the door above your head.

He leaned in slightly while you tilted your head upwards to try and look at him properly. If you didn’t know better you’d say he was blushing.

“I don’t mind you touching my wrist. Or my hand.” He paused while looking at you. He leaned in even more, noses nearly touching. “I never mind when it’s you.”

You both held eye contact between each other until his gaze flicked over your face as if searching for something. Eventually he pulled away and you smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud drumming of your heart.

Later you found yourself once again in the library. Azriel left at eight, presumably for the meeting Rhysand was talking about. And given that you were once again alone in your room and that you could read the books you had with you you could read another time you decided to return to the library.

A good portion of the day had passed, before you knew it the empty plate upon which the dinner that one of the helpers had given you had been cleared and replaced with coffee.

You finished yet another book and decided to try and find a book you had been looking for for a while. While strolling through the aisles you couldn’t help but have the feeling that you were being watched.

You wondered if it was something alike the House or Byraxsis. Although you doubted that something as ‘terrifying’ could be found in the Day Court.

Not to lie you had always enjoyed the presence of Byraxsis, you would read to it after a long day. And sometimes, just sometimes they would ask a question or ask for a book you could read.

You missed them sometimes, although the same cannot be said about Cassian.

When you reached for a book you noticed that you were once again joined by a little shadow. You smiled at it before returning to looking for your book.

When you were about to enter another aisle the little shadow decided to pull you a different way. You ended up three aisles down from where you were going. The little shadow kept going before stopping before a specific bookcase. You looked around it for a bit, curious at what the littlz thing would want to show you and that’s when you saw just the book you were looking for.

When you went to thank the little one, you realized that it was nowhere to be found.

Shrugging it off you decided to focus on the matter at hand. To get the book that was placed about a meter and a half above you. You tried to reach it by standing on your tiptoes before someone reached out above you to take it of the shelve.

You immediately recognized the scars on the hands, the siphons and the little shadows that had once again decided to dance along your skin.

Lowering your hand you turned around to see Azriel leaning over you in the same way he had been that morning. Except this time he was smiling softly, it tugged on a heart string to see him smile like that. Gods what you wouldn’t do to see him smile like that more.

“A bit short aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a tease. You huffed but smiled and thanked him for the book. But just as you went to reach for it he held it out of your reach. The smile on his face widened at your playful glare. You reached for it again but this time he held it above his head. So you decided to step closer until you were practically chest to chest and place one hand on his chest and raise one to reach for the book.

He seemed surprised by your boldness and movement that his arm went slack and you managed to lower it and grab the book.

You smiled at the look on his face and patted his chest. You took a step back.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Wasn’t expecting it.” You said softly to respect the space.

He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe I wanted to read and saw a damsel in distress.” You laughed a little, denying being a damsel or in distress. He leaned in closer with is head and upper body and added. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You flushed at that and he laughed quietly, deciding that you were red enough he gestured for you to follow while he offered his arm. Which you took.

He led you to where you had sat yesterday and took a book of his own. He sat down besides you on the couch and started reading.

You finished your book rather fast and decided to read another and another. As did he, only he didn’t read nearly half of what you read.

Once it started getting late, and both of you began to get hungry he announced that you should be retire to the bedroom. You obliged, still you toom the books with you to the front desk so they could be placed where they needed to be. He smiled at you once that happened and once again offered his arm.

Back in the room, you both decided to wear something more comfortable. Azriel had once again ditched his shirt and opted for loose black sweatpants instead of his leathers.

The food was delivered to the door and you both ate in silence until he spoke up.

“Why did you sleep on the couch tonight?" You raised your head from your food and blinked at him. “I mean there was enough space for us both and as much as it is pretty that couch does not look comfortable.”

You smiled perhaps a bit sheepish and said: “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you had already moved so for to the right and still there was little space. I definitely would have touched you, which I thought you were uncomfortable with. And I would have had to move your wing and even now that is a boundary I will not cross. Especially not in your sleep.”

He smiled softly at you and his eyes softened. “I wouldn’t mind you sleeping in the bed with me. Not at all.”

And so that’s how you ended up next to the shadowsinger. It was well past midnight and it appears that Azriel had found sleep, the same could not be said for you.

The blanket had little weight and was very thin. But getting out of the bed would mean waking Azriel zo you bared with it.

After a count you turned your head to Azriel to find him already looking at you. Startled at first your eyes widened before turning into a smile to match his own. You turned on your side to look at him better and did he look good.

His sleepy smile paired with that dammed look in his eyes.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you asked.

A beat passed, then he sighed and said: “Because you are simply stunning.”

A blush crept up your face. “So are you, dammed handsome truly.”

You thought that he would laugh or say something back but instead his face faltered. It hurt to watch that, you frowned and wondered why that happened. Did he not believe you? Does he think you’re lying?

No, that’s not possible, I mean look at him. But his smile went completely and you felt such dread seeing it ago, and that’s when it happened.

Snap

…

“You…. You’re..” You weren’t sure what to say. It’s like your entire world got flipped upside down.

“Wait, you can feel it?” He said, leaning on his elbow. Your mouth opened and closed before you nodded with disbelief. He knew?

His smile started returning before he started reaching for me. Although he stopped abruptly, he looked at his hands and before I knew is I had taken them in mine and placed a kiss on the knuckles, the back of them and both palms.

His eyes glossed and his voice sounded so little as he asked: “You don’t mind? You don’t mind that it is me that is your….” His voice trailed off at the end.

“I do not, truly I am utterly delighted.” You took the side of his face in your hand while guiding him to lay back down. “I am more than happy to be your mate, Azriel.”

His eyes scanned mine for a lie, a single hesitation and when he found none he said upright and brought both wings to the correct sides. He gestured for me to sit up so I did. He laid back down with now the wing beneath me.

I hesitated and he told me once again: “I don’t mind when it’s you.”

So begrudgingly you laid down on his arm atop his wing while the other draped over you, along with his arm and shadows. The added weight was welcome and so was the warmth against the chilly air.

“How long have you known?” You ask.

“Remember Solstice two years ago, when we were having one of our conversations again?” You nodded. “And how all of a sudden I had to make the worst excuse ever to leave?” You nodded again.

“Well, you had said that my shadows were adorable and you called them ‘little ones’ ande then it just… snapped. I panicked cuz I did not know what to do, I almost spilled it all right then and there but I felt like you deserved better… or at least for it to be natural. Honestly even before the bond I really liked you, you should ask Rhys and Cass. They have some stories of me trying to impress you and it going terrifically wrong.”

You laughed and stared in wonder, you mate is a dork. And you love him. So you told him just that.

“I would love to het to know you better, truly. But know that even before and now still, I love you. My mate is such a dork and I’d love to hear all the stories.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter and the shadows seemed to do the same. And so you both laid there in each other’s arms.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing #i did this around midnight don't judge me #good night now

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days

Text

♥️

Eddie should feel...blissful. He's been dating Chrissy for the last few weeks and he's well on his way to graduating (it's six months away but he's enthusiastic)

His latest dnd campaign is his best one yet if he does say so himself and he feels like he should be on top of the world.

So yeah life should be great. There's that word again should.

Instead he's left with this feeling that something is missing and that's ridiculous because he has his dream girl and he's doing well in most aspects of life.

But it doesn't stop this ache in his chest.

It's only been the last few days that he's came out of his happy bubble and realised that things aren't as good as he thought they were.

Mostly with Chrissy. It's not like she's awful or anything, no. She's one of the sweetest girls he's ever met, she's kind and they get on really well.

It's just there's this feeling of wrongness. He can't quite put his finger on it. When they kiss it's nice and he does adore her friendship but there's no... romantic spark?

He's mulling over this while he and Chrissy sit in easy silence at the table in the woods.

"Eddie" Chrissy begins and he startles out of his musings and finds Chrissy staring at him, she's biting her bottom lip nervously and she's obviously stressing about something.

"Mmm?" She takes a few seconds to speak again and when she does Eddie feels like a weight has lifted off him.

"Do you feel like this is working out? It's just that I've noticed that this... We... It feels weird" Eddie clutches her hand and tries to think how to put his response into words. He's never been so careful to think before he speaks, he usually says whatever is on his mind.

"Shit, uh yeah, I thought it was just me. I thought you were everything I wanted but it just doesn't feel right" she nods understanding and squeezes his hand.

"I get it. It's like I adore hanging out with you, I feel comfortable around you but that's it. I love our friendship but that's all" he breathes out of sigh of relief and grins at her.

"Maybe that's just what it is. We're only meant to be friends" she relaxes, the tension going out of her shoulders and she lets out a bubble of laughter.

"Well thank god for that" she giggles and he snorts, yeah that could have been majorly awkward.

"I just don't know what's meant to be missing" he shrugs feeling at a loss. Chrissy pats his hand soothingly and he feels like she knows something or maybe senses something that he hasn't figured out yet.

"Don't worry, I don't think it will take you that long to figure it out" she leans over to kiss his cheek and leaves him to his thoughts.

"Can you give me a hint" he calls after her and she softens before speaking again.

"The answer has been in front of you all along Eddie, you just need to realise it" well that was helpful, he pouts and slumps back onto the table.

💞💞

Eddie lets himself into the drama room to get ready for Hellfire. He startles for a second when he notices he's not alone. You're at the table, quietly painting one of the figures and humming to yourself quietly.

He finds himself staring at you for a few seconds and there's a fluttering in his stomach. Fuck.

You really were beautiful, eager to learn about dnd when you first started and didn't know much about it. You were a quick learner and got on well with the rest of Hellfire, sweet but hilariously sarcastic.

He wouldn't admit it but you were his favourite and Henderson, the little butthead.

Eddie figures he should say something, it wasn't often Eddie was speechless but while he was looking at you, he struggled to form words.

Then you look up and catch his eye, look away flustered at his dumbass self gawking at you. He clears his throat and takes a seat beside you. Heart hammering and stomach still in knots, he smiles at your neatly painted figures.

"That's good sweetheart" your answering smile nearly short circuits his brain and you continue painting. Eddie feels like he could watch you forever, when your fingers graze against his the tension around the two of you heightens.

Despite all of that being with you just feels right. His racing thoughts calm and he's content just to sit with you.

Wait a minute... being with you feels right, like it's always meant to be like this. His mind races to realise what his heart already does.

Oh. It's you. It's always been you. He doesn't realise he's said the oh part out loud and you peer at him confused.

"Eds?"

"It's you. You're the missing piece" you're staring at him confused and he takes your hand. There's a ping in his stomach but he carries on with explaining to you what he means.

"I felt like life should feel perfect for the last few weeks, being with my supposed dream girl should have felt amazing right? But it's like something has been missing. Chrissy and I decided to just be friends because we realised that's what we should have been"

You're listening intently and squeeze his hand softly in a comforting manner, silently encouraging him to go on.

"I felt like something has been missing and nothing feels complete, right. Until I'm with you" you still and your eyes meet his, there's something akin to hope in your eyes.

"What are you saying Eddie?" he takes a deep breath and just decides to go for it. Tell you how he feels.

"That I'm in love with you and I really want to kiss you right now princess" he blurts out the last part in a rush and you stand up, he panics that you're going to bolt. But you don't, you wrap your arms around him and tug him close to you.

"I love you Eddie, I think I fell for you the minute we met and maybe instead of thinking about kissing me, you should just do it"

Well he doesn't need to be told twice. His lips meet yours, fireworks explode behind his eyes and this is it. You're what he's aching for 💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #mutual pining #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 2 days

Note

Prompt #1. Hands

Heyo thanks for requesting and waiting!

Summary: Soft fluffy morning with Astarion

“Mmph don’t leave yet, my love.” Astarion mumbles, face still buried into your chest. You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp but he pulls you back in, holding you tightly.

“A little while longer,” you sigh. He lets out a little happy purr, shifting to a more comfortable position but doesn’t drift back into a trance. Instead, he takes in your warmth, loving how it warms him up along with the sun and finds himself mindlessly tracing patterns on your back on this quiet morning. Stealing little moments like this is what he cherishes most, and he wants more of these.

He loves watching your tired eyes flicker open, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you struggle to fully wake up, the way your fingers grab the air whilst trying to find him. He loves the way your body relaxes when he slips his hand into yours, the tired mumble of what usually sounds like ‘good morning’, and especially the way you drag your body towards him just so you can flop onto him, burying your face in his neck.

His fingers find themselves entangled in your hair, lingering on the back of your head just so he can pull you closer and press kisses to the top of your head, relishing in a future Cazador tried so hard to deny him.

“We need to get up now, Star. The others need us.”

“They can wait,” Astarion huffs, but lets you worm yourself free from his embrace. He still whines about the coldness of the sheets now that you’re gone until you leave the room, then you hear the pitter patter of feet as he rushes to get dressed just so he can continue clinging onto you before the others steal you from him once more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck for his breakfast and feels you rest your hand on his, running your thumb over his smooth undead skin as he feeds. He takes in how your hand never leaves his for too long, always searching for a form of physical contact with him, whether it be for his comfort or yours he’s not sure, but he likes it.

He always gets lost in your touch, the gentle caresses over his face as your fingers glide along his skin, the soft kisses that follow suit, the way your hands fit in his like they were made for each other. He clings onto each of these memories, afraid that one day they will fade away like his past before he became a vampire. He’s terrified that one day you will stop doing this, stop loving him so gently, stop lavishing upon him all the love and care you can muster, but each and every day you prove his doubts wrong.

“Star?” Your soft voice cuts through his haze of thoughts and you gently squeeze his hand, snapping him back to reality.

“Yes, my darling?” He presses a kiss to your neck, resisting the urge to nuzzle you again. The spot should be sore and he doesn’t want to irritate it further.

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows crease with worry, the soft look of concern sent his way. His heart skips a beat each time you look at him like that, no one ever looked at him in that way until you came along and every look you send his way is a reminder of what he never had.

Instinctive words bubble up to his throat — words that throw up a facade, words that form a protective wall around his heart, words that shield him from the worst — but he pushes it all down, swallowing them. He doesn’t need these words around you, you’ve proven that over and over again. What he needs is your open mind, your caring heart to reassure him that being vulnerable is alright.

“I’m…” He’s not sure how to phrase it. Is he alright? He’s not sure. After 200 years of not being alright, he’s not even sure of what being ‘alright’ is.

Your thumb gently runs over his skin, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“You don’t have to tell me now. Whenever you’re ready, just say the word and I promise I’ll listen,” you say with such softness it nearly brings him to tears. He nods, swallowing hard and closes his eyes, taking in the way you gently hold his hands, the way you let him wrap himself around you even though he could very easily kill you with a bite in this position, the way you entrust your back to him both in and out of battle.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Can we…stay like this a little longer?”

“Of course,” you murmur back, leaning back a little to press against him. His grip on you tightens, soft sweet words spilling from his lips into your ear and you know he means every single one of them.

You turn so that you can bury your face into his chest, intertwining your fingers with his and let out a sigh of contentment, smiling up at him.

“Love you.” The words spring forth before you know it. He blinks, caught off guard, body freezing in place as his mind struggles to process what you just said. It’s not the first time you’ve said that word to him, but every time you say it you surprise him.

You. Love him.

Even after everything the both of you have been through, there are times he cannot wrap his head around this fact. He blinks away the tears that are beginning to form and untangles his hand from yours just so he can cup your face, lift your chin and press his lips against yours.

He still can’t bring himself to say those words back to you. He knows how much weight they carry when each of them are meant wholeheartedly and he doesn’t feel ready to say them yet. He tightens his remaining grip on your hand, wanting to remain close to you for as long as possible and presses his forehead against yours until the shouts of your companions cause you to pull away.

“Looks like our time alone is over,” you murmur. “Let’s go.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before reluctantly letting you go, a hint of sadness in his crimson eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be yours.” You smile softly at him, giving him a quick peck to the cheek before checking on the others, but you keep your hand in his, grasping tightly.

His. Always.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

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zyafics · 2 days

Text

mangos | rafe cameron

masterlist (drabble)

pairing rafe cameron x viet!female reader

summary when your spice tolerance is different from your boyfriend’s.

content (742 words) established relationship, rafe trying to understand your culture (and up his spice tolerance), purely fluff and self-indulgence.

dedication @softspiderling to my chị, who i hope eats this with me

"Rafe, you can't handle it."

Your boyfriend looks at you with the tilt of his head, as if you just given him a challenge. You laugh, attempting to move the bowl of freshly-cut mangoes off your bed before he spills the content and the sticky dipping sauce.

Your parents would kill you.

"You're kidding," he declares, like a petulant child who've just been told he can't have dessert for dinner. Rafe reaches for the porcelain bowl again, but you move it out of arm's reach. "Babe, I can handle it."

"No. My mom made this for me."

"So what? You don't share now?"

"I think I share plenty," you glance down at the discrepancy of space on your queen-sized bed. Rafe's large frame practically engulfs it, leaving little individual room for you. Your legs spread over his, his hands over your body; you don't know where he ends and you begin. "This is different. You don't have my spice tolerance."

Rafe's brows drawn together, trying to figure it out. He looks so adorable to you. "That's impossible, I had your mom's mangoes before."

"It's not the same thing."

When your parents learned you were dating a white man, they had to dial down on the spices whenever they invited Rafe over for dinner. Which means he grown accustomed to a certain taste. It's better than when you first met him, but Rafe simply isn't at your level.

Rafe shifts. You were watching a movie on your laptop, propped over your lap, and Rafe pulls his long limbs together to push himself into a sitting position, eyeing you with an offer. "Come on. Let me try."

You sigh, dragging the bowl back on your lap. Your mom had given you cut-up fruits in the middle of your hangout, as an excuse to check-in on you, and delivered the mangoes into your hands with a cautionary warning to not spilling all over your bed.

Rafe takes a sliced mango in his hand and dips it into the clear bowl of fish sauce, chili peppers, and sugar. You thought the smell would overwhelm him, but he takes a huge glob and puts it in his mouth.

"Be careful," you warn, just as Rafe holds out his hand, knowing the protocol, before using it to cup under his chin and prevent any dripping.

You watch as he chews, eyeing the expression on his face. The first bite is never the worst, especially because it takes time to register, so Rafe goes in for another—even against your protests.

"I told you, babe, this is child's play," Rafe shrugs, finishing the slice and going for another one. You don't know understand what drove him to be this competitive, but amusement overtakes your features as you wait it out. "It isn't that bad—fuck."

Rafe lets out a blow of air once the spices registers on his tastebuds, clapping a hand over his mouth as if he's trying to contain himself. A giggle escapes you, watching as his eyes search around the room.

You roll your eyes as you reach over to your nightstand for your bottle, handing it over to him. A grateful look passes over his features as he downs the entire content in one gulp.

"Jesus, babe, what do you eat, the sun?"

You laugh, setting the bowl between you and Rafe, steadying it on your sheets so it doesn't tip over, and pull yourself into a sitting position yourself. Your shoulders brushes against his arms. "I told you, we have a different spice tolerance."

When he sets the empty bottle down, he says with a pout. "I thought I was improving."

"You are," you say, cupping the side of his profile, your thumb brushing against his cheekbones. "When I met you, you could barely stomach bún bò huế—now look at you, you're eating it almost weekly."

That makes him feel a bit better. Rafe says nothing else and you take the opportunity to lean forward and pull him into a kiss. The taste of chili peppers and fish sauce still lingers on his swollen lips, and you grin. The attempts he made to understand you and the little nuances of your culture were more than enough to fill in the gaps of what he couldn't do.

When you pull away, Rafe's expression softens. His eyes scans over your features, taking you in. Then, he whispers. "Let me try again."

You laugh as he takes the bowl from your mattress and attempts another round. You shake your head, mumbling, "thằng Mỹ trắng này."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

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actuallysaiyan · 1 day

Text

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, periods/menstruation, bodily fluids, messy, do not READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE PERIODS I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH OKAY????

You’d never done this before. You’ve been with Kento for a while now, and you just never thought you’d be in this position. Sometimes when you’re on your period, you just get so horny. This was no exception this week. You found yourself almost unable to contain your arousal. It was beginning to drive you crazy.

“We can just have sex,” Nanami suggests. He looks up from the magazine he’s reading to see your reaction.

“What do you mean?” You ask, your mouth dry from just the thought alone.

“We can have sex. I could fuck you. You’re horny. What kind of lover would I be to leave you in need like this?”

Your heart flutters. You’ve never felt so aroused in your life. You feel the urge to jump on this man and ride him until you’re both completely exhausted. Logically, you know you need to set this up better than to just jump on him and rip his clothes off.

Kento comes over to you, leaving the magazine on the couch. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a very sweet kiss. Then it soon turns hungrier and more passionate, leaving your cunt throbbing with need.

“Let’s get some towels.”

You follow him to the linen closet and Kento picks out a few old towels that have been shoved to the back. He grabs your hand and leads you into your shared bedroom.

He places the towels over the blankets, making sure everything is covered. Regardless, he doesn’t care if things get too messy. It just gives him an excuse to buy new sheets. Then he looks at you and smirks.

“Undress and get on the bed.”

You remove your clothes slowly, painfully aware of the pad that sticks to your underwear as you throw it on the ground. Something about this is parts arousing but also parts embarrassing. If only to prove that you’re too horny for your own good, the embarrassment seems to make you even more aroused.

You sit on the bed, your legs slightly spread. Kento looks at your cunt, noticing the blood and slick that’s smeared a little on your inner thighs. He’s no stranger to the nature of menstruation, but he’s finding himself very turned on by the thought of fucking you while you’re on your period.

He slowly strips, tantalizing you and making you practically begging for him. Then he grabs the bullet vibrator from the bedside table, turning it on. Just the sounds of it make your body shudder in excitement. He spreads your thighs even more, pressing the vibrator to your needy clit.

The moan that escapes you sounds so pathetic. Kento smirks as he presses the vibrator harder onto your swollen nub. He begins circling it, using the different speed functions to his advantage. His eyes snap down to your dribbling hole. There’s blood tingeing the slick that leaks out of you.

“Need to get you all ready for me.” He explains to you, even though he knows you’re more than ready for him.

Kento brings you to an orgasm with expertise and ease. The vibrator thrums against your clit so deliciously, making the flames in your lower tummy build until the dam breaks. You cum hard with a loud cry and more of your red tinged slick drips out of your pussy.

He lines his cock up to your hole, watching as it greedily tries to swallow his tip. Your cunt is more than ready to take him, but he just enjoys teasing you. Especially since you’re even more needy than usual. Slowly, he slides into you until he’s balls deep inside you.

A low grunt rumbles from his chest. Nanami had no idea just how much hotter and wetter your pussy would be from your period. The added blood makes things stickier in a way, but it is not unpleasant. In fact, it adds to the pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says as he helps you wrap your legs around him. “Fucking hot, tight and wet.”

You can barely think straight to even answer him. All that comes from your lips now are moans, desperate pleas and pathetic whines. Kento captures your lips in a heated kiss as he begins to fuck you a little harder and faster.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’m gonna cum inside you. Make this bond even deeper…”

Your nails dig into his back as the tip of his cock slams against your sweet spot. You’re seeing stars as your next orgasm begins building faster and faster. You can’t even imagine lasting longer than a few more seconds of this.

“You know what they say about fucking while the woman is on her period right?” Kento huskily whispers in your ear. “They say it bonds the man and woman for life. Their souls bonded forever.”

You pant like a bitch in heat as your orgasm comes crashing over you. Your tight little walls flutter around him, making Kento grunt. Your slick, bloodied walls are milking him for all he’s got. Another few harsh thrusts and he’s burying himself deep in you so that he can release his load deep inside of you.

Soft cries and pants fill the room as both of you are riding out your high. Kento slowly pulls out, watching his seed leaking out of your hole. The blood mixes with his cum and it causes his cock to harden again. He uses the tip of his cock to push the cum back into you.

“Round two, yeah? You can take it, yeah?”

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lydiimae · 17 hours

Text

Guardian Angel

Pairing:

MDI 18+

Warnings: Opium powder use, mentions of drinking, high Benedict, Benedict being an insecure cutie pie, fluffy fluff hehe

WordCount: 2.2k

A.N: Hello my loves! I'm sorry for my lack of posting, I've been sick and I've finally started work. I am still trying to find a schedule where I can post and have time for other things. For now, have some lovely Benny fluff while we all wait for part two of Season 3 to come out. I love you! <3 P.S. Thank you for 200 followers OMG I love you all so much.

Marrying Benedict Bridgerton was the easiest decision you have ever had to make. The two of you grew up alongside each other, the rumors of a proposal coming when you debuted, and the actual proposal occurring only two months into the season. It was an easy choice, a choice you were happy you made. He made you feel alive. He filled a part of your soul you did not know was missing before you met him. Even in the hardest times of your marriage.

Benedict, like many other men, has insecurities. He keeps them hidden well behind an air of confidence, but you know better. He never was jealous of Anthony, but rather scared that he would always be looked at as the lesser son. The spare. He just did not understand what you saw in him. He saw himself as a man without purpose, a man who could not provide the life you wanted. He believed you when you said that was not true, but there was always a little voice in the back of his mind that made him doubt himself.

You knew this well. He was less talented at hiding his feelings when he was a child and had shared many of them in your many late nights on the hills of Aubrey Hall. Though now, these insecurities only rear their ugly heads when Benedict has had a few too many to drink. Or, as is the case tonight, too much of the strange tea Colin buys him.

You get out of the carriage with your maid and footman, John, after he had come to get you claiming that Benedict had had far too much tea. A result of drunken carelessness by his younger brother. You rush up the front steps and into your townhouse, taking off your cloak before bouncing up the stairs toward his studio. You sigh as you walk in to find your bohemian husband on the floor of the studio with a canvas in front of him, smearing paint on it with his fingers without a care in the world. It would be an adorable sight if you were not worried out of your mind.

You walk to him and sit down next to him, watching as his glassy eyes sweep over the floor before meeting your own. "Ah! My love!" He exclaims, his demeanor immediately brightening as he drapes his paint-stained arms around your middle, his cheek resting against your shoulder. You hum, not bothering with the wet paint that stains the dark blue fabric of your gown as you wrap your arms around him. "I have been seeing visions, darling." He mumbles into your skin as you run your fingers through his curls.

"Have you now?" You murmur as you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips turn up into a loopy smile. The most adorable sight you have seen in a while. "Mm. Colorful visions. I had to paint them as quick as I could, had to feel the smoothness of my oils on the canvas." He says, pulling back to look at you. You grin when his eyes focus on yours, one of his paint-covered hands coming to rest on your cheeks leaving a beautiful mess of blues and purples in its wake.

He studies your face for a moment longer before crawling, quite clumsily, over to a clear canvas. "Benedict?" You call softly, moving to sit next to him as you watch a beautiful image come to life on the canvas. It wasn't anything, but at the same time, there was something so divine about how he is painting.

After about an hour he stops, looking up at you with that darling crooked smile. "Look, Y/n. It is you. How I see you." He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile and look down at the mess of colors for a moment, believing that this canvas full of swirls might truly be how your husband looks at you in this state. "It is stunning, my love." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his brow before returning your attention to the painting. "Shall I explain it to you?" He slurs, his attention solely on you.

You hum and nod, returning your attention back to him. He smiles giddily, laying back and pulling you on top of him. "It is as if... I tried to capture a dream." He slurs, pressing his lips to your nose. "A whisper of our love, tangled in colors and chaos. This mess of lines and splashes, it is you and me, dancing through the storms and the sunbeams. It is...it is us." He stumbles, weaving paint-streaked fingers through your hair. Even in his most inebriated moments, he never ceases to take your breath away.

With a wavering smile and glassy eyes, he gestures to the canvas, his voice thick with emotion, "You see, my love, it is as if you are my guardian angel. This painting...it is not just colors. It is you. You are in every swirl, every splash...." He grins, watching your eyes shimmer with tears. "You are the light in the chaos, guiding me, saving me from myself. Each stroke is like your touch, soft but powerful, keeping me safe, lifting me higher. It is a tribute to you, my protector, my guiding star. My love, my guardian angel." He mumbles, and you break.

Tears begin rolling down your cheeks and you bury your face into his neck, making him laugh, his hands smearing paint up and down the back of your gown as he tries to comfort you. "You need not be saved from yourself, Benedict." You whisper after a moment, pulling back and wiping your eyes. "My God, if only you could see yourself as beautifully as I see you." You whisper, pulling him up into a sitting position. "Y/n... I have only ever needed saving from myself." He slurs, though even through his inebriation you can sense the deep sadness that lingers somewhere deep within his soul.

"You are the most remarkable man I have ever known, and I am utterly captivated by every part of you—your brilliance, your kindness, your passion. To me, you are perfect, even in your moments of doubt and struggle." You whisper, cupping his cheeks. "You are my world, and I am here to stand by you through every storm." You vow, brushing away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks with your thumbs.

"My Y/n." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he sniffles. "My Benedict." You return, sitting on his lap as his arms encircle your waist. You shift his head into the crook of your neck and allow him to cry for a moment, rocking him side to side as he does. He rarely ever shows this kind of emotion. In a way it is comforting, to know that the man you married still feels just as intensely as he did when you were first wed. You press a kiss to his head and he nuzzles your neck.

You sit with him on the floor of his studio for about an hour, and when he finally calms down you help him to the master bedroom. He falls back on the bed without even a sound of protest, moving his arms so you can help him undress. You grin and bend down, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you unbutton his shirt. Once it is off, you move onto his trousers. Then, when he is completely bare, you tuck his already sleeping form into bed.

You walk into the closet, laying his paint-stained clothes out on the chair for the maids to collect in the morning before changing into a nightgown yourself. Once you are ready for bed, you crawl in next to your husband, combing your fingers through his hair and watching as he smiles in his sleep. You wish that he will remember every word of what you said in the morning, but the logical part of you knows that he will not. Even so, you shall keep saying the things you did tonight until he believes them. You close your eyes, falling into a slumber right next to him, your fingers still curled into his hair.

He wakes far before you do at the crack of dawn, a usual occurrence when he has overindulged. He groans, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead. He cannot remember getting into bed or the events that transpired before he did, though he remembers bits and pieces. The image of the deep blue gown you came home wearing, the way your hair fell around your shoulders when he ran his hands through it, the sparkle of tears in your eyes...

He sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, his eyes immediately drifting over to your sleeping figure. He grins at the image before him. You look like an angel, sleeping on your stomach with your hair sprawled against your back and your lips parted ever so slightly. His grin only widens when you let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your eyebrows furrowing. He hums as he bends down, kissing down the notches of your spine.

You wake at the tingly feeling it sends through your body, grinning at the warmth that blooms in your chest. "Good morning." He murmurs from above you, brushing your hair out of your face just as you open your eyes. "Good morning." You whisper back, your hand coming up to rest over his. He looks heavenly, the morning light from the windows behind him making him look like a God. "You are positively beautiful in the morning, Ben." You hum as you stretch out, and he laughs. "No more beautiful than you, my heart." He returns, taking you into his arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.

You smile as he sits you in his lap, your arms settling loosely around his neck. "Do you remember anything about last night?" You murmur and he shakes his head, stroking your hair. "Just bits and pieces, I suppose." He hums, yawning as you press a kiss to his forehead. "You made a beautiful painting and then made me cry with your explanation." You smile and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "I am happy to know that my poetic tendencies do not fade when I am intoxicated." He grins and you giggle. "If anything they only grow stronger." You return, closing your eyes as the two of you lean on each other.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you decide to bring up the second part of last night. "You also expressed some insecurities, Ben. Like you always do." You whisper as you open your eyes. His eyes meet yours and he sighs, pulling back to rest his chin upon your head. "You need not worry about me, my love" He murmurs and you shake your head, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I do need to worry about you, Benedict. You are my husband. The man I am so hopelessly enamored with, the man I adore even when he is mumbling gibberish on the floor of his studio." You whisper.

He averts his gaze to your lap, playing with your fingers. "I said something foolish when I was intoxicated, Y/n. It is truly not worrisome. I do it often." He mumbles. "You said you needed saving from yourself, that is incredibly worrisome." You whisper and he sighs, looking up at you. "What if I am not enough?" He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. "Whatever do you mean?" You breathe and he shrugs. "Just that. What if I am not enough, for you? What if you wake up one day and realize that I am a man with no purpose who creates silly paintings in his studio all day?" He asks.

"Benedict. You mustn't say that." You whisper, getting teary. When he begins to speak, you shake your head bringing him closer. "When I look at you, I see a man of incredible talent, passion, and depth. Your paintings are not silly; they are a reflection of your soul, a testament to your creativity and the beauty you see in the world. Each brushstroke is a piece of your heart, and I am in awe of the masterpieces you create. Every single one." You whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He gives you a wobbly smile as he tries not to cry.

"But beyond your art, it is you—your kindness, your compassion, your strength, and your gentle spirit—that I cherish most. You give my life meaning and fill my days with joy and love. Your presence is a gift, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we share. I adore you more than any star in the sky. My love, you mustn't doubt that my love for you will never ebb." You continue and he smiles through tears as you pepper his face with kisses. You stay like that for a while, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you let him cry.

"It seems I married a woman who is just as poetic as I." He whispers after a long while, making you burst out in laughter. He pulls back with a crooked grin, peppering your face with kisses now. "My love, my light...." He whispers.

"How I adore you, my guardian angel." He murmurs.

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pablitogavii · 2 days

Note

Reader getting really shy with gavi?

Family time

After a year of being in established relationship, Pablo wanted to bring me to Sevilla to meet more of his family and since he was traveling with the team for the last game it was the perfect timing.

I was a little nervous but he reassured me that they would love me just as much as him which calmed down my nerves a bit. Meeting his tía Almudiera and her family was very nice and she welcomed me to stay at her home while Pablo is in the hotel with the team.

"Estas segura, mi amor? If you're uncomfortable I can get you a hotel room?" he asked me on the side and I shut him up with a kiss reassuring him that I'd love to stay with his family which made him smile brightly.

"Bueno, I will come in the morning amor" he said after evening passed and we had nice dinner with his family before he was ready to depart. It was always hard goodbye especially since I got so used to sleeping in his arms at night.

"Will you..um leave your sweatshirt with me cariño?" I asked shyly and he knew the reason I needed it is to have his smell with me when he is away. It made him proud and he took it off immediately giving it to me with a sweet kiss on my hungry lips.

"We'll take good care of her niño, no te preocupes" his aunt said making us both smile as he embraced me and Pablo left smiling while stealing another look of me surrounded by his family..made him proud for finding the right one.

The next morning, I was sound asleep when Pablo came after training being told by his aunt that I was still sleeping. He promised to wake me up for breakfast before entering the small guest room they gave me.

He smiled seeing me cuddled up to a white comforter wearing one of his sweatshirt with a peaceful look on my face. He sat next to me holding around my waist and leaning down to leave wet kisses all over my neck which slowly woke me up with a smile.

I enjoyed his little ministration for a second completely forgetting that we were not home quickly pulling away thinking some of his family can come in to check on you.

"Amor, que pasa? No te gusta mis besitos no more?" he acted hurt looking down at me while moving a strand of my hair behind my ear so I can slowly open my eyes to look at him.

"No! Obvio que me gusta amor..I'm just worried someone will come in" I say looking at the door and he chuckled leaning down to capture my lips.

"My shy girl.." Pablo teased making me blush even more as we kissed a few times before a knock was heard and he told me that meant breakfast was ready for us.

We spent all day exploring Sevilla with his family, going to a little lake for a picnic with kids and I started feeling much more comfortable but still any physical touch from Pablo put me on edge.

Knowing my boyfriend and that his love language is physical touch, it was hard for him not to show it in front of his family. Not to mention he loved seeing em all flustered.

"Our reservation is ready, kids" his tía said and we walked to the little restaurant by the beach and the moment I sat down next to Pablo, I felt his hand gripping my thigh making me close my legs as smirk appeared on his handsome face. Little devil!

"Amorrr!" I whispered and he leaned in acting dumb for a moment.

"Something the matter, princesa?" he whispered back and I gave him a stern look to which he only smirked keeping his hand right where it was.

"Mrs. Gavira" waiter said and you smiled thinking a little about that title..imagining it belonging to you one day, and just like he could read your mind Pablo's hand moved from your thigh to hold your hand kissing it in front of everyone not really minding people watching.

"I'm thinking about it too.." he said and I blushed which he adored continuing talk with his family while holding my hand under the table. Obviously we were both young..but hearing his say he's also thinking about it made me so happy.

Next day, Pablo had long physical exam and training so we didn't see each other until lunch and when he arrived he saw me jumping in the pull with his little cousin smiling with his tía.

"Ella es una chica de oro Pablito, mucha suerte" she said and that made a boy even more proud that his family was loving me just like he knew they would. He knew it's impossible not to love a person like me.

"Pablo! Look the braids Y/n made for me! Are they pretty!?" his cousin was excited and Pablo smiled seeing you blushing shyly while grabbing a tower for the little girl.

"So pretty! You enjoying Y/n's company?" he asked and the little girl jumped up and down while nodding and rushing inside to grab some snack while Pablo walked up to me.

"They're all so nice to me amor, I love it here" I said gulping when he pulled me by my waist close to himself not caring much that I was wet.

"I love you mi amor.." he said to my bright red face before kissing my lips lovingly and I giggled resting my head on his shoulder while his family watched us with smiles. They were happy Pablo could find someone so genuine for himself.

"You need to be all packed up tonight when I pick you up" Pablo said and I pouted nodding my head as he pulled me in and kissed my forehead lovingly.

"We'll come back soon, bueno? Te lo prometo" he said and I smiled again nodding my head before he pecked my lips once again and we joined the rest inside.

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 days

Text

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 7 🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader

Synopsis: The host, Jason Donner, and James, the beach bartender open the dreaded truth box in Paradise. Word count 4.9k

Part 1 (previous chapters linked in the post)

A/N: Jersey shore inspiration once again! As well as a scene from the movie One Day with Anne Hathaway. Let me know what y'all think!🖤 TY AS ALWAYS FOR READING. 🫶🏽

CW: MINORS DNI, no smut, mentions of sex, DRAMA, ANGST, FIGHTING, MILD VIOLENCE, FIST FIGHTS, MISCOMMUNICATION, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, BETRAYAL, MENTION OF CHEATING, GASLIGHTING, BULLYING, TRASH TALKING, fluff at the end

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The fleeting adrenaline of the night has now taken the form of awkward tension and dead stares as the group sits around the bonfire. Jason Donner, the host, and James the beach bartender approach, holding Paradise's version of Pandora's box, anticipating the drama that will inevitably spring forth with quiet dread.

"Good evening, everyone." Jason greets. Muffled murmurs echo with little enthusiasm in response. He claps his hands together.

"Well, as you can see, James here, our wonderful MVB, or most valuable bartender, as I like to call him..."

He pauses for dramatic effect as the cringe joke lands.

"....has a little box of tricks for you this evening."

He takes the box in his hands, opening it as several scraps of paper nearly tumble out.

James assists him, helping him organize the slips of paper based on who they're written about, before he addresses the group.

"Alrighty, here we go, without further ado, time to drop some truth bombs."

George shifts uncomfortably in his seat, MJ is seated next to him with her arms crossed, blue eyes squinting at James as though she was trying to make out the words he's reading telepathically.

Miguel swallows and turns to look at you with a sort of half smile. You return it with your own, both your legs bouncing restlessly.

Felicia and Ben hold each other's hands in anticipation. Peter B. sits up, eyes glaring in George and Miguel's direction.

"First one: Ben is like a Golden Retriever. Blonde and always happy to be here."

The group laughs, caught a little off guard by the unexpected tameness of the first confession, with Ben nodding in agreement.

"I mean, they're not wrong...."

"Wait, there's more." James turns over the piece of paper. "P.S., I borrowed your razor to shave my ass the other day."

Ben turns white as Miguel and George wheeze with laughter. "Lovely..."

James unrolls another scrap of paper, this one's for you.

He calls your name and your heart does a death drop in your chest.

"Miguel truly cares about you. I know you're scared of getting hurt like you did when you were on his season, but give him a chance. I have known Miguel for a long time, and I can honestly say that he loves you and wants the best for you. I know he wouldn't take a huge risk like this unless he was committed 100%. Don't let this opportunity slip you by."

You feel a deep heat in your face as you look down. Miguel looks surprised at the confession as well. He glances discreetly over at you, moving one of his knees closer to yours.

Next confession.

"Felicia..."

Felicia raises her head, curious what this one could possibly be about.

"Felicia, honestly Ben deserves better than you. After being engaged to Flash and dating Harry, is it not obvious you're just a gold digger? I feel bad for Ben. He deserves someone authentic and who won't use him just for his looks or eventually leave him if someone more successful comes along."

Felicia looks like she could kill somebody with her bare hands. MJ tries to stifle a smile as she leans back in her seat. Ben looks worried at Felicia and a little hurt but doesn't let go of her hand, looking down at the sand and trying to make sense of what he was just told.

James' eyes glitter with a little bit of mischief as he reads the next two intended for just one person.

"Peter is a little bitch."

Peter raises his eyebrow unamused, eyes flickering over to Miguel and George, the latter who's doing his best to not let a snicker escape the smug grin he's wearing.

Time for the second truth bomb directed at Peter.

"Peter. Are you sure being on a dating show is what you need right now? The only connection you should be focused on is one with a therapist so you can get the help you need. You're not over MJ, you're mad that things didn't work out with y/n even though you were the one who fucked her over. What do you really want? Get your shit together- sincerely, everyone."

Jaws silently fall open with a mixture of shock and also silent admiration for anonymous to say what everyone is thinking.

"Well dayum..." You mutter under your breath, a little relieved someone is finally calling him out.

Peter turns bright red, a vein nearly popping out of the side of his forehead as he points at Miguel.

"So now you think you're funny, don't you?"

Miguel raises an eyebrow, "You assume I wrote that?"

"Yeah, because you're the one who can't seem to keep my name out of your mouth." Peter snaps.

Miguel scoffs. "Wouldn't need to keep it in my mouth if you could just keep it in your pants..." He mutters.

"Miggy, please..." You tug on his arm, your eyes pleading which makes Miguel soften a bit, apologetic he upset you. As satisfying as it would be to let Miguel lay Peter's ass out for everyone to see, you don't like the idea of him getting in a fight.

James blows air out of his mouth in preparation for the next two, knowing they will be about as effective as pouring gasoline on an already blossoming fire.

"Miguel needs to go home. All he cares about is getting pussy. He's a washed up bachelor who's only here because it didn't work out the first time. He is not ready to settle down."

"George..."

Oh God this might be it.

"When are you gonna be honest with MJ and admit you were texting your daughter's mother just days before you came on the show? You're a liar and you know it. MJ deserves better than you."

Even a pin dropped could be heard in the sand with the uncomfortable silence that washes over the beach. You and Felicia look at each other with shocked expressions, looking frantically around the fire for signs of who else could possibly be on to George.

MJ scoffs quietly, shaking her head and running her tongue over her teeth in annoyance. George's hands clench into fists on his legs, taking a deep breath, seemingly doing his best to keep his rage under wraps, for now. He glances at MJ but she keeps her vision straight ahead, hissing at him when he tries to reach towards her.

"Oh, that's nice." Miguel shakes his head, shrugging off the insult that was directed at him.

James tilts his head. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"No, because it's not true." Miguel retorts simply, crossing his arms.

"Bullshit." Peter chuckles darkly, murmuring under his breath, although it's clear he meant for it to be heard loud and clear.

"Oh and how would you know, Peter, enlighten me? Coming from the man who can't make up his mind, right?" Miguel sits up a little taller, moving his head to make eye contact with Peter.

"Mig...please..." You murmur, heartbeat starting to pick up, placing your hand on his thigh.

"You immediately fall back on Plan B when Plan A didn't work out. You just figure, "I'll go shoot my shot, doesn't matter she's already seeing someone else and trying to move on, what the hell." Peter makes air quotes with his fingers in a mocking manner. "Yeah, I was just engaged to someone else literally 48 hours ago, but let me run away to Paradise to solve all my problems."

"First off, you're the one who fumbled her the minute you decided to go down on Dana. And second of all, she did that on her own free will. You can't stand that she chose me. Well guess what, not my fault I'm here to fix what you broke." Miguel smirks a little at the last statement, happy to rub it in his face.

George cuts in, "Alright let me say something. Can I say something? Miguel!"

"What, George?" Miguel sighs, Peter starting to cut in loudly immediately after.

"Let me talk. I'm speaking!" George starts to raise his voice.

"George, shut the fuck up!" Peter fires back, standing up.

"No you shut the fuck up! Fuck this anonymous bullshit, I'll tell it to your face!" George takes three steps forward, only to be stopped by Miguel.

"Oh what, what, tell me what George?!" Peter nods his head, trying to put on a tough exterior.

"You're a punk and a bum!"

"Oh woww, really?" Peter's face turns redder by the minute. At this point, Ben stands in front of Peter, trying to talk him down to no avail while George continues poking the bear.

"You're a bitch!"

"Oh yeah? What else, what else, tough guy huh?!" Peter shouts, clashing with Ben who's fighting to hold him back.

George taunts, "You were born a bitch you'll die a bitch, ya mother's a bitch...

"Don't fucking bring up my mother!!" Peter launches forward like a rocket, Ben losing the battle as George rattles on, jutting his pointer finger out to punctuate each of his sentences as he relishes in the rise he's getting out of Peter.

"....ya father's a bitch, everything about this guy, this guy right here! Yeah, he's a little bitch!"

"FUCK THIS GUY!!!!" Peter snarls, doing his best to overpower Ben who's using his whole bodyweight to restrain him, while security sluggishly clamors to the scene when it's clear that Peter won't let up. Miguel tries to come to Ben's rescue once again.

"Don't you FUCKING touch me!"Peter growls at Miguel.

Miguel glares but backs off for now, Ben murmuring he's okay, patting Miguel's chest as they slowly go back to their seats, letting security plant Peter back in his spot.

Jason clears his throat, straightening his suit jacket nervously. "Alright, alright....let's keep this clean, gents...."

He nods towards James to keep it going.

"Ben." James calls out.

Ben exhales as he sits down in his seat, bracing himself for the potential brutality of this one.

"Ben, after everything we've been through, I would've thought you would have had my back better than that. Honestly, I'm disappointed in how someone I considered a friend for so many years, would jump ship so quickly to defend someone else. You abandoned me when I needed you."

"Alright..." Ben interrupts, standing up, already knowing who the author is this time as he looks directly at Peter B.

"I am a good friend, Peter. I don't care what you say, I think most of the guys here can back me up when I say: I am a good friend. "

He pauses.

"But I will not be a yes man. I won't just sit there and tell you everything you wanna hear just because you're my boy..."

Peter looks at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna back you up when you're the one in the wrong this time." Ben concludes.

"Great...great. Noted." Peter B. mutters, chuckling non-humorously.

"Oh, and whoever said that about Felicia being a gold digger, mind your business. I don't give a fuck." Ben adds as he sits down in a huff.

The tension between everyone is dialed up to uncomfortable levels, but the confessions continue. James clicks his tongue nervously. "Okay...let's go on, shall we...." He unrolls the next slip of paper between his fingers and reads it aloud.

"Miguel. Stop being a pussy and tell y/n how you feel. You've done a lot to redeem yourself, but you can't stop there. Take her on a date. Make her feel special. After everything you put her through, you owe it to her to be really honest with your feelings. How are you going to deal with the long distance and your mother disliking her outside of this? Are you sure you're not here just because things didn't work out with Xina? Are you ready to actually propose and give her the ring she deserves? These are the hard questions you should be asking yourself."

Your lips part a little bit, a mixture of anxiety, gratitude, and nervousness at this truth bomb. These were things you've been meaning to discuss with Miguel eventually, you just weren't sure when the right time would be, still teetering on the ledge, not sure when it felt right to jump back into something with him.

But you couldn't lie that you felt yourself getting closer and closer to making the leap. Your mind floods with a million thoughts as you decide to focus your attention on the crackling bonfire in front of you instead.

Miguel clenches his jaw and nods solemnly, keeping his body turned towards yours as the same barrage of thoughts invade his mind.

The John or Jane Doe was right. If tonight's truth telling session doesn't end in a complete shit storm, another shit storm with an impending rose ceremony certainly would increase the stakes. He's got to act soon if he doesn't want to lose you yet again.

"Amen!" Felicia says a little loudly, nodding in agreement and clapping her hands together.

Jason and James smile, saving the best for last.

"MJ..."

Ah, the big finale.

"Today at the beach, when you left upset, George put his hand on the surf instructor's ass. He was flirting with her and she was touching his arm and chest while they were talking. When you left crying at the club, George made out with two girls. He was also dancing and grinding with multiple mystery women. He also held a girl's hand and took down her number. Multiple people on this beach know. Therefore, you should know the truth."

MJ bolts up, snatching the piece of paper from James' hands before he can stop her, reading it over and over with her blue eyes a frenzy with shaky hands.

"......who the fuck wrote this?" Her eyes are now venom, boring into every single person sitting around the fire. You and Felicia are shaking, scared to speak up.

"Now..." James tries to take the slip of paper from MJ. "that's not how this works. All confessions are supposed to be confidential."

"I don't give a fuck, WHO WROTE THIS?" MJ cuts him off sharply and dodging him. She decides to take things into her own hands when nobody speaks up.

"What Felicia, you're mad I told the truth about you and Ben so this is your way of getting back at me?"

"What??" Felicia's eyebrows furrow in anger and confusion.

"This is your way of getting back at me?!" She repeats taking a few steps closer to where you're sitting.

"Are you fucking kidding me MJ?" Felicia stands up. "How the fuck was I supposed to know you'd write some bullshit about me and Ben? Why are you even bringing me and Ben up anyways? Who fucking asked you??"

She smirks when MJ gets dangerously close,

"Oh, what, now you got balls all of a sudden? Step up, then."

"Don't yell at me, honey, don't." MJ warns through clenched teeth.

"For someone who seriously begged, BEGGED to my best friend..." She gestures to you.

"....if you know something tell me, if you know something tell me. Telling people, 'let me know if George is flirting with other girls'....." Felicia tries to continue.

"And funny how those people become pussies all of a sudden!" MJ spews back. "I don't like you-"

"Really, you don't like me, all because I came to you as a woman and told you about your men??" Felicia gets in MJ's face, gesturing to George and Peter B.

"And you can't tell me to my face! So who wrote the note, you two?" She points at you and Felicia, keeping her finger dangerously close to Felicia's face.

"I'll tell it to your face, matter of fact I'll hit you in your fucking face right now!" Felicia yells.

"I'll hit you in your face too!" MJ sasses back. Without another word Felicia smacks MJ in the face, dragging her down by her hair in the sand, MJ grunting, arms flailing trying to scratch at Felicia's arms.

George rushes forward trying to get in the middle as they screech and struggle. You come running to Felicia's side as MJ gets up, becoming temporarily blinded when she kicks up some sand that flies past Felicia and almost hits you in the eyes. She gets in one good shot to Felicia's face, Felicia being accidentally sandwiched between you and George when you fall forwards into her.

George holds Felicia in place while MJ pathetically tries to keep swinging at Felicia over George's shoulder, none of them landing as Felicia squirms ferociously in his grasp.

"Let her go! Let her go!!!"

You try to lunge at MJ but she's being almost completely shielded by George. You try to encourage George to release Felicia instead by clawing at his face and pounding your fist into his arm, your comparatively smaller frame no match for his, but your frantic movements are distracting enough that he loosens his grip and the entire group falls to the ground in a clobbered mess while security tries to intervene.

"Stop!! Stop!!"

Ben and Miguel are now added to the fray, trying to retrieve you and Felicia who are in a tangled mess on top of each other while George fishes for MJ.

"Alright, alright SHUT THE FUCK UP, that's it!" George yells at you and Felicia.

"MJ, we were just trying to watch out for you!" You yell out of breath, your clothes askew and one of your tits in serious danger of falling out of your bikini cups. You lean to the side, trying to throw your words at George and MJ past Miguel and Ben who are both trying to block you now, creating a shield.

"Oh really, this is watching out for me? How pathetic. Can't even be honest with me to my face. You both can kiss my ass." MJ finally breaks free, rolling her eyes and scoffing, small scratch marks on her face from Felicia's nails that have begun to bleed.

"I said: shut the FUCK up, it's done, nobody gives a fuck!" George booms over the commotion. "Y/N, your relationships are all fucked up, and Felicia's jealous, so now you and your little sidekick got nothing better to do but try and bring us down!"

"What the hell?! I don't give a fuck, George! You wanna sit there and put me on blast go ahead!!!" You enunciate each word with loud claps of your hands, darting forward like a madwoman, shoving George with all your might as the veins bulge in his neck as he tries to keep a lid on his temper.

"We didn't do anything wrong!! I was just trying to watch out for MJ because MJ doesn't have a single friend on this beach!" You yell.

"Yeah and I thought you were mine." MJ waves you off sarcastically, trying to fix her knotted hair.

"And you, you started this bro!" George shifts his attention to Peter B. "You fucking started it, little bitch boy!" He furiously strides towards Peter B. who's already up and ready, Ben jumps up, throwing himself in the middle yet again, stumbling backwards and being practically steamrolled by George's bulking frame.

"Whoa whoa whoa!!! FELLAS!"

Miguel yells, "Hey!" sprinting to Ben's aid once again. Ben is bulldozed to the ground with a yelp as George and Peter B. start coming to blows.

Peter hisses as George hurls his fists, ducking and trying to go for his torso, yet George slides through his hands like a bar of soap.

Peter tries to gain the upper hand, struggling with their hands on each other shoulders, locked in a stalemate as George's face turns bright red, Peter wincing under George's formidable strength as he struggles to hold his own, both his build and his height overpowered by him.

Two enormous security guards weave their way in, one of them curling their bicep around George's neck to pry him away. He begins yelling like a madman, hitting his chest in frustration like a gorilla, high off testosterone and adrenaline, and an additional two guards to push him backwards.

"Let me at him! LET ME AT THE SON OF A BITCH!"

Meanwhile, Miguel and Ben rush to hold back Peter who's already trying to charge at George for another round.

As soon as Peter notices Miguel approaching, his anger is reignited all over again, "YOU!!"

He puts his head down and charges at Miguel.

Miguel grunts as he catches Peter around the torso, being knocked backwards from the force, both men struggle as Peter pushes him further and further down the beach towards the water, yelling when Peter lands two punches in the middle of Miguel's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Peter STOP!" You scream, face widened in horror at the sight of Miguel being attacked.

Miguel wheezes in pain but is doing a good job of holding him off, however, you can tell Miguel's definitely holding back as he struggles with Peter in the water, since he could absolutely destroy him if he wanted to.

Ben tries to run towards the struggling pair but slips in the wet sand, falling down on his face.

Finally, when Peter shows that he's not giving up, Miguel locks in, furrowing his brow with a guttural yell, teeth clenched, face burning red as he practically launches Peter 10 feet in the air, with Peter making an enormous splash in the water, spluttering incoherently as the salty water burns his eyes, his whole outfit soaked and wet sand in every crevice.

"Stay the fuck away from me." Miguel seethes, breathing deeply as he slowly backs away from a bewildered Peter.

The security team trots down the beach, helping Peter get out of the water. Peter rips his arm away from one of the guards in fuming embarrassment and anger as he snarls at them that he can walk himself.

"And don't forget: she chose me!!" Miguel calls after him, panting, unable to resist sticking it to him one more time.

You run up to Miguel, out of breath, not minding his wet polo or shorts as you sweep him into a hug, tears running down your face out of concern. Miguel sighs and holds you close.

"I'm okay..."

"Thank God..." You whisper, closing your eyes and leaning into his chest.

Security is shepherding George and MJ into separate locations, MJ giving his hand a squeeze before they take him away, seemingly sticking by his side in utter clownery even after all the allegations.

You and Miguel find Felicia and Ben sitting by the fire, sitting down next to her and giving her a hug while Jason and James talk with the producers, shaking their heads with exasperated voices.

Jason finally storms off to the side to go have a cigarette after realizing this group can't go more than 24 hours without a world war explosion.

"You okay?" You ask Felicia, looking over her. Even though MJ got in one good punch, she didn't leave a mark, compared to MJ's scratched up face and bird's nest hair.

"What do you need, water, food, ice?" You wave your hand at a producer passing by, stealing a cold water bottle and a bag of mini Oreos, holding the cold bottle against her head.

"I'm fine." Felicia sighs. "I feel so bad right now..."

"Why??" You ask her, opening the bag of cookies and popping one in her mouth, nursing her back to health.

"We were just trying to look out for the girl. She's not being a good friend right now and if anything she should be the one who feels bad. She finds out we wrote the note and she's more mad at us than her cheating ass man? That makes no fucking sense to me. If they're gonna stay together after this, they're the clowns. Not us."

Felicia sighs and nods, eating her cookies thoughtfully as she leans on your shoulder.

"What happens now?" Ben asks quietly, looking at the scene that's starting to slowly simmer down with the aftermath.

"Well, Jason's gone. James is nowhere to be found." Miguel stands up. "I think we should call it."

"Where are you going?" You look up, reaching out to Miguel. "I don't want you going back over there alone..." You look in Peter's direction.

Miguel's eyes soften at you. "Come with me?"

You turn to Felicia and Ben. "I've got her." Ben reassures, wrapping a blanket around her. "You guys go on. Have a good night."

"G'night bestie."

"Love you!"

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

You and Miguel walk in silence, your arm wrapped around his waist and your head leaned against him, one of his arms draped around your shoulders, holding you close.

Miguel smiles shyly, "So, uh,....you were really worried about me back there, weren't you?"

"Course I was." You answer, shuddering a little at the memory of the fight and the look on Peter's face.

"The last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt."

Miguel hums and gives your shoulder a squeeze and a rub. "I appreciate that."

"Of course."

He pauses, letting the quiet sounds of the nighttime crickets and croaks from the tropics' wildlife drown the silence for several moments. "And about whoever wrote that confession towards me, you know, the one about how I need to step up and be better towards you...."

You both stop walking, turning to look at each other. Miguel takes his hands in yours. "They're right, whoever they are."

You give him a hopeful smile, letting him continue.

"I am gonna be better...at telling you how I feel and making sure I'm there for you. I know next week is Fairytale Suites, and I don't want another rerun of what happened last time." He holds both of your hands in his and takes a deep breath, before he speaks honestly.

"You are my endgame. That's all I want at the end of this is you, and me, walking away from this together."

You break out into a full on smile now, the corners of your eyes softening in adoration at this confession.

"I know an engagement sounds crazy in just a week, but even if we don't get to that point, I'm okay with it. I just want this with us, you and me....so badly. If I have to wait, then I'm willing to do that."

He looks seriously at you, leaning down a little bit so his eyes can stay locked on yours. "And I don't care about long distance, what my mom is gonna say, and all that, we can sort through that later.... I'm willing to fight for this. What are you thinking? Please tell me...?"

"Miguel...." You look down, running your thumbs over the back of his hands pensively. "I mean...an engagement is kind of a big step..." You ponder for a moment. "There's so much we need to talk about before we can even consider taking that step if I'm being honest."

"I know..." Miguel whispers.

"Well..." You think deeply, before proposing an idea.

"Maybe we can start with a rose, for now? Tackle all the hard questions when we have the fairytale suites and all day and night to talk about it?" You grin up at him.

Miguel chuckles, bringing one of his hands to your cheek. You follow his touch, holding his arm as you look into each other's eyes.

"You want to claim my rose early?"

You nod, smiling, "Course I do...unless you think someone else has a chance," you tease, lightly poking him in the belly. "We'll start there and see what happens?"

"Not at all. I'm looking right at her." Miguel smiles. "We sure will..."

He brings you in for a hug, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you...you don't know how happy I am right now about all of this."

He looks around until his eyes land on a small hibiscus blossom.

"I know it's not a rose..."

You giggle, bringing your hands to your mouth as he gets down on one knee, with a dazzling smile, offering it to you as he whispers your name.

"Will you accept this...flower? And be mine from this night going forward?"

You nod, beaming as you take his hands as he stands up, gingerly placing the blossom behind your left ear.

You sigh and plant your chin against his chest, "But I swear to God, Miguel...you lead me on..."

Miguel laughs breathlessly, cupping your face, "Baby I swear..."

"You mess with me, cheat on me, go behind my back or let me down for the millionth time I will murder you. I swear to God I'll murder you and go to prison for the rest of my life, you break my heart again."

"I won't baby..."

He doesn't say anything else, just brings his lips against yours in a loving kiss, for the first time in months. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, re-acquainting yourself with his warmth, with his mouth, his face, the feeling of being so close to this man you once loved, letting the buried affection you harbored underneath the surface come back to life as you hold each other underneath the glowing moon of paradise with the tropic winds weaving all around you. The future uncertain but one thing you both knew for sure as of tonight,

"It's you and me..."

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Jason Donner speaks in a voiceover: "Stay tuned for another drama-packed episode of Singles in Paradise!"

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

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@hardlystrictlystarwars @lareinamorgan @serpentineaerodynamics

@envyjmoney @clementines-valt @the-pan-liquid

@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate @cynwing

@ddreabea @what-the-jams @loaves4me @p1nkliquor @mcmiracles @tojishugetiddies @1-800-choke-that-ho @daddyfroglegs @1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer @yumpho

157 notes · View notes

firemenenthusiast · 3 days

Note

Can you plzz do a farleigh smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??

—“spell”

farleigh start x innocent!reader

summary: farleigh had trouble resisting you since the first time he saw you so he laid his trap to which you walk right in, starting from agreeing to spend the summer at saltburn with him. the fact that you’ve never done anything with yourself boggles his mind, so he decides to lend a helping hand

warnings: boy where do i start. 18+, porn with plot, reader is innocent, naive and kinda stupid (bear with me), fingering, mirror kink, corruption kink, panties kink, posessive kink if you squint, size kink, praise kink, farleigh calls ready baby & princess, blowjob, face fucking, pussy job, panties job (?), cum eating, facial, dry humping, thigh riding, jerking off, p in v, let me know if i miss anything

a/n: we hit another milestone thank you everyone !! this is me showing my love to yall mwah. innocent reader finally out whoohoo. idk who’s charles but thank you anon for this request ! i hope it fits with what you’ve imagined

summer could be too hot at times. sweaty. sticky. but nothing could make you hate summer. you love summer. your favourite season ever. the blossoming flowers and clear skies are one thing, but summer also means that you get to wear the flimsiest, flowiest, thinnest fabrics ever. sometimes almost see through, because of the heat. maybe if you wear thin enough short dresses the heat won’t get to you. what other perfect time one could be wearing the cutest dresses around if not in summer ? atleast that’s your excuse. wonder if there’s any other reasons. i mean, your short skirts and flimsy tops surely dont have anything to do with how nice farleigh is to you, do they ? you’re just so— pure, even naive at times that he doesn’t have the heart to treat you how he does others. delicate fragile little thing like you should only be handled with care

farleigh start is really nice to you, he’d helped you picked up the books you accidentally dropped when he bumped into you. he even offered to help carry them while you walk to class, which had drawn you to him. you’d given him the cutest, most doe-eyed little “thank you” for helping and he could just feel his cock twitch in his pants. it’s not easy to find a decent man around here so when he often showed up to your convenience you believe that he’s just a good person, with nothing but pure intentions. sure, farleigh thinks you’re such a pretty little thing.

that’s why when he first saw you on college fields, licking away at your cherry popsicle that was dripping down your fingers, giggling about something with your friends, he couldn’t get his eyes off you. he couldn’t stop thinking about things— things that he could be doing to you. for every day of summer you would put on the nicest short dresses that you’d saved just for the season. the type of dresses that cling onto your skin if you sweat through the fabric. those dresses that look like they could get one hard tug and would rip easily.

it’s funny how such silly first meeting could lead you to farleigh. the both of you aren’t necessarily friends, he’s more of the nice guy you know and would greet whenever you see him around the faculty. he’d smile and wave at you across the halls. he’d offer you a seat at the cafeteria if he sees you looking around. he helps you with stuff around campus, like returning your books to the library and carrying your stuff. though you do find it weird that you couldn’t find the books he said he’d help return on the shelves anymore. and because he’s so tall, he serves as your guardian, protects you from other boys that try to bother you. he doesn’t ask for anything in return, just a smile from you would suffice, the smile that leaves him smitten. farleigh also knows about the love you have for summer, the way you always mention how great of a time you would have in summer. just casually telling him about that time you wandered into a hayfield and just laid there looking at the sky. or about that time when you were little you had just received a gorgeous little floral dress as a present that you wore everyday because you liked it so much. sometimes you just couldn’t shut your mouth when it comes to summer. you’re sentimental about it, and the fact that he would sit through your stories every time, no wonder how random it can be or how busy he actually is

you jumped when he asked you to spend the summer with him. “really ?? are you serious ?” you beam at him with uncontainable excitement. your toes springing up and down, his eyes follow yours as you jump and squeal, a huge grin plastered across his face. farleigh had told you about his saltburn home. the most perfect, ethereal place to be spending summer at. you love to listen to his stories about what they do at saltburn in summer. basking under the sun at the lakeside, playing tennis, rolling in the hayfield naked— so when he invited you to spend the upcoming summer in saltburn, with him, you couldn’t be more excited. it’s gonna be the best summer ever. “yeah it’ll be fun. besides, elspeth is always thrilled to have a guest. she loves a pretty face like yours” you feel your cheeks heat up at his words as you push him away. he smiles at your reaction, sometimes it’s almost too easy for him to get what he wants with you. it’s always been felix who would bring his friends, toys- over so he figured this time he’d do the same. he chuckles at you twirling around in excitement, eyes trailing down to your ass peeking out under the skirt. he could see the bits of your panties if you would just jump higher.

thinking about spending the summer at saltburn, you cant help but imagine how it would be like. you’ve heard people talk about the greatest parties that took place there, and how sex infested it can get. people do all sort of wild things there, the wildest you could imagine. the type of crazy that you could say what happens there, stays there. trailing your eyes along the corners of your ceiling, you let out a heavy sigh. you’ve always had a positive attitude towards sex and well, other sexual stuff. you’d hear crazy stories from your friends, about stuff they did or would do in the bedroom with boys. it’s understandable for people your age to be acting like they don’t have a second to spare from reproducing. their stories intrigue you cuz you’ve never done the things they’d talk about.

they would mention playing with themselves, you struggled to understand at first, thinking what is there to be played with yourself until you learned what it actually means. you’ve never done it though, you’re too scared and it feels so crude to be doing such thing. sounds like a sin. every time you would try to rub your dainty fingers between your folds, you’d retreat though it felt so good. you heard that you’re supposed to be stuffing your fingers inside, and that scared you even more. they’d mention being wet, as in aroused, but you remember the conversation you had with your mom when you were going through puberty. the one you went through at a very early age. she had told you that it is possible, and that if you ever become wet because of someone, it means that they’ve done something bad to you. like they have put a spell on you so you would succumb to the fantasy of pleasure with them. you believe her. she may had just wanted to protect you then but it fucked with your perception towards arousal so bad that when your friends told you stories about it, you’d feel bad for them. you feel bad cuz they’ve been put under a spell yet they seem so happy about it. you wonder if they knew.

it’s not like you’re a virgin. you’ve had sex when you were younger, with a lanky boy who suggested you to do it with him like it’s just another invitation to go hang out. not thinking much, you agreed to him. you didn’t feel any pleasure when it happened. it was just a weird sensation and shitty experience overall. you’ve been pretty avoidant when it comes to sex since. you feel like people talk about it too much yet it’s not that great. you think sex is overrated, so no one has ever touched you in years. boys would try to get close with you, talk nice to you but you see right through them. not farleigh though, he seems genuinely nice. or so you thought. you’ve asked farleigh about sex seeing that he frequents it along the course of you knowing him. he thinks it’s overrated too and he only does it for fun. he’s fucked a number of people you know here and he said none of them makes him want to come back for seconds. when you told him about that experience you had he laughed, “dont sweat it baby, he just sucked at it. probably got too turned on by you he couldn’t last more than 5 seconds” maybe he’s right. alas, farleigh wouldn’t lie to you would he ? no, he’s too nice for that. so when you told him you’ve never done things with yourself and that you haven’t been touched for years it came off as such a shock to him. girls he know not only would play with themselves, they even practically throw themselves at him just to get fucked. knowing that you’re so— reserved, he felt like you just got purer, more precious in his eyes. sometimes he feels like a predator eyeing its prey. the way he would think of ways to corrupt you. but those are just bad silly thoughts at the back of his head. he’s too nice to act on them, right ?

your first day at saltburn could be easily described by the word ‘crazy’. everything is just crazy around here. from the towncar the cattons had sent to fetch you from the train station, the butler and footmen standing still at the huge beautifully carved doors welcoming you, the green carpet spread out as far as your eyes can lay upon, the greek sculptures scattered along the garden trails, to the seemingly nice people that are farleigh’s aunt and uncle. he was right, elspeth called you pretty. like bambi she said. you met venetia, the only other girl around your age living in the enormous estate. she seems happy to be getting a girl company for the summer, showing you around the house and always borrowing you from farleigh. he paid no mind towards the friendship that is forming between you and venetia, as long as you’re having the best time ever. he wants this summer to be able to compete with your previous amazing ones. you’re walking alongside venetia with your knitted beach totebag across the field, towards the lake when felix greets you. he’s just as tall as farleigh, maybe a little shorter by an inch but you can see the genes connecting them both. “heard you’re farleigh’s friend, how’d you know him ?” you smile at his question before giving a quick answer. “he helps me around campus, he’s always so kind to me—“ before you could say anything further, he scoffs in disbelief. “farleigh ? kind ? think you got the wrong bloke there mate” he shakes his head before skipping away towards the yellow hayfields, his hair flopping messily. you look at venetia who’s giggling at you, also shaking her head while raising her shoulders. frowning at her, you couldn’t get to bask in your confusion any longer as she takes your hand and drags you towards the boys.

seeing her strip off, you look around to see the boys already laying comfortably, clothes off. most of them are covered by the tall grass but you can tell that they’re not wearing anything. particularly cuz you spotted the discarded clothes that they were wearing at breakfast not far from you. as you start to lift off the hem of your top, you feels venetia’s hand on your arm. “you dont have to, it’s just a stupid thing we do” you nod at her words, a little relieved yet you feel like you’re gonna miss out from the real saltburn experience if you dont do it like them. so you follow venetia’s actions before settling on the ground, in between the tall grass. she starts giggling at you as you slowly burst into laughter, not noticing the burning glance trailing along the outlines of your body. the grass covering the most of you teasing him, depriving him of the sight he craves the most at the moment. thankfully felix is too caught up in his cig to notice him practically eyefucking you, putting his imagination to work like he’s some prepubescent horny teenager. you felt your saliva caught up in your throat when you noticed his naked body in the grass when you were looking around earlier, and you’ve been trying to shake off the image of his tan broad shoulders, glistening in sweat, beads of it dripping to his defined collarbones since. as he seems busy flipping through the pages of his harry potter book, you hope for his focus to stay on the lore as your eyes continue to scan his beautiful face, his luscious curls bouncing off his forehead. his shoulders propped up against the ground, looking firm and shiny from the sun

weird tingling sensation crawls across your body as you struggle to take your eyes off him, or his body. he looks so flawless in his glory, basking under the sunlight, the sweat clinging onto his skin making him glisten. the tingling you felt turns into heat, seemingly most prominent around your core. the more you try to ignore the heat, the weirder it feels until you notice the forming stickiness in between your folds. fuck. you wanted to panic badly yet you keep your composure around venetia, not wanting to let her know what’s happening. you look at farleigh who’s still laying on his chest, your eyes widen at the fact that it’s happening to you. he’s put a spell on you. he must have, cuz one second you were looking at him and now you’re wet. just like what your mom had told you about. internally panicking, you quickly grab your clothes and try to put them on without having to stand up, to avoid flashing the boys. just as you’re done, you abruptly get up on your kneews before venetia notices. “what’s wrong ?” you look at her, offering a smile to convince her nothing’s going on. “nothing, forgot my sunscreen” she gives you a look of approval before sliding her shades back down. your swift movements and walk back to the house catches farleigh’s attention as his eyes follow your disappearing figure into the distance. he puts his book down as he slowly reach for his clothes before patting felix at the back, to which he pays no attention to. he’s too busy listening into the earphones connected to his walkman with his head settled on his crossed arms. farleigh’s eyes notice your small figure stepping into the foyer before taking the turn leading to your assigned bedroom, the men in suits along the corridor eyeing you as they stand still. hastening his steps, he tries to catch you at the coridor before you got into your room but failed. you’d planned to check yourself out in the bathroom, see what’s actually going on down there, hoping that maybe it’s your period though that’s not for another 3 weeks. pushing your underwear down your thighs, you notice the colourless wet patch at the crotch. trying to make sure, you dip your fingers in between your folds to collect some of the stickiness. holding your fingers up, you feel your breath caught up in your throat. you feel like you could cry, you couldn’t believe farleigh would do this to you. he’s supposed to be nice and kind unlike other boys—

just as you step out of the bathroom your eyebrow quirks at the tall figure standing just infront of the door, his linen yellow polo tshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, his fingers fiddling with each other. “w-what are you doing— you shouldn’t be here” your eyes struggle to find something to settle on, trying hard to avoid his direct gaze. “is something wrong ? why’d you leave ?” his eyes trail to yours, trying to catch them as you make way to the wardrobe, opening the doors to see your clothes that have been neatly arranged by the maids. looking through the compartments and drawers, you’re actually trying to find a fresh clean pair of underwear to replace your soaked ones. seeing you suspiciously try to run and avoid looking at him, you leave him no choice other than to grab your arm. his action makes you turn to face him, he steps closer before crouching so his face levels with yours, his eyes searching into yours. pursing your lips shut, you didn’t want to confront him for what he did just yet but now that he’s standing infront of you- you decide to finally look at him

“i- i cant believe you did this to me farleigh” he cocks his head, taken aback by your words, not having any idea what you may be talking about. before he asks you decide to spare him the pretending. “the spell” you continue in a stern voice. “what the— what spell ?” his voice pitch higher as his eyebrows quirk. you let out a sigh, “i looked at you in the fields, now im- your spell, now im— wet” he looks like he’s still trying to puzzle the pieces together. rolling your eyes “you must’ve casted a spell to get to me, otherwise how am i this- wet ?” you wince at your struggle to explain to him, having to say the word ‘wet’ so much cuz you don’t know how else to make him understand. his face drops in realisation, finally getting to guess what you’re trying to say, yet he’s still weirded out. “so…you think i casted a spell on you that makes you wet..?” you squint your eyes at his slow response, is he pretending to be innocent or what ? “who told you that ?” he asks. “who cares ? i thought you were nice” getting defensive, you’re starting to feel that you’re being ridiculous. you notice his shoulders drop, his stance softening as he throws his head back with a smile on his lips.

“oh poor baby,,” he starts, before stepping back towards the bed, sitting on it.

“—come here” he ushers you, to which you compliantly follow. he grabs your arm to position you so you’re facing him, as he looks up to find your face. you’re now as silent as a baby deer, waiting for him to say something. he begins to chuckle lowly as he shakes his head. “so you think because you’re wet from watching me in the fields, i’ve put a spell on you” he tsks, before continuing with his dark eyes boring into yours “how cute.” his hands start to touch yours, ghosting his fingers along your wrist, trailing up your arms. a shiver travels down your spine at his touch, your eyes search into his, multiple feelings creeping into your head that you struggle to focus on one. one thing you’re sure of is you don’t want him to stop doing whatever he’s doing. suddenly his hands start smoothing over the hem of your skirt, his fingers carefully playing with the waistband against your navel, maintaining eye contact the whole time with an amused look on his face. “maybe i should take a look at the affected area, see it it’s curable hm ?” he suggests, both his index fingers already hooked beneath the waistband. you nod at him, your mom never told you what to do if one gets put on that spell but it makes sense if he needs to be the one to heal you. as he was about to pull your skirt down he changed his mind, he has a better idea that is to just leave your cute frilly little skirt on. slowly bunching up your skirt from the hem, he has his bottom lip between his teeth. you feel heat finding its way on your cheeks as you hear him curse under his breath. “oh- you’re really wet baby” the nickname makes you lightheaded. “all this because of me ?” he says proudly at which you frown at his stupid words. why is he acting like this is an achievement ?

“yes now can you cure me ?” you’re becoming restless the way you can feel yourself getting wetter. that’s not a good sign, it just means it’s getting to you. you’re worried that it might go beyond curable and you’re stuck living with the spell forever. not giving you any response, his hand still holding your bunched up front skirt as his fingers graze the fabric of your panties. he trails his finger at the top, where he can feel his cock pulse seeing the tiny ribbon. your panties had turn a shade darker from its original colour from your wetness clinging onto it. suddenly you feel his thumb press at your crotch, earning a gasp from you. you quickly pull your skirt higher to look at what he’s doing. the thumb that was pressing against your sensitive nub now rubbing at the wettest part of your crotch, pushing and rubbing the fabric in between your folds. he’s making you feel so good you wanted to tell him to keep going. his fingers are now grabbing the fabric together, before pulling it up against your folds making you moan. you look at him with wide eyes, he’s not looking back at you as he’s busier tugging and rubbing the fabric against your pussy, an amused look on his face. he could just see you getting wetter and practically drenching your panties. “fuck,, you have such a pretty cunny” his words making your pussy tingle before you decide to urge him, “help me, farleigh”

he lifts his head, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “i can cure you. but you have to be good for me” you listen to his words carefully before nodding, “i can be good” he smiles as his hands slowly grab at your arms, turning you to face the full body mirror mounted against the wall infront of him before pulling you down to settle on his lap. he rests his chin in the crook of your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the reflection on the mirror. his fingers creep up to your thighs, playing with the hem of your frilly white short skirt. as you try to breathe steadily around him you feel your breath hitch at his fingers’ sudden movement smoothing along your inner thighs. your eyes instantly shoot to his fingers now disappearing under your skirt before getting the clear view of his fingers playing with the side hem of your flimsy panties after his other hand had bunch up your skirt to your waist. you feel his plump lips plant soft kisses on the crook of your neck, his eyes gazing directly into yours. as you feel his lips, you can’t help but look into his eyes in the mirror, not breaking eye contact as he continue his kisses and his fingers grazing very lightly on the wet fabric of your panties. “farleigh-“ you let out a soft moan. “you told me you’ve never touched yourself ?” you shake yout head at his question, head too hazy to give him actual words. “that’s a pity” you dont really get what he meant by that but you dont think you’re missing out much.

he takes your hand in his, guiding it to your core. “here” you crane your neck up to him, looking into his face. he looks down, meeting your gaze. “i’ll show you” you keep silent as you let him pull your thighs even further, placing them over his. you can see yourself sprawled out on his lap in the mirror, showcasing your glistening panties clad cunt. farleigh’s fingers pull the side hem of your crotch, holding them to the side as his other hand bring yours over. “try grazing your fingers over the little nub there” he instructs and watch closely as you do what you’re told. you moan as you feel the pressure against the sensitive part. he continues to guide you through touching yourself the way it would feel so fucking good, that you’re a whiny moaning mess. you feel heat on your cheeks the whole time, embarrassed by the fact that he’s watching you touch yourself. “now try one finger inside” he suggests, your head shot up to look at him. “it’s okay, it’ll feel even better” his large hand grab yours, showing you to your cunthole. you obey him, prodding a finger at the hole, yet you feel nothing but discomfort. “it doesn’t feel good, farleigh” he pushes your hand further, your finger now fully inside. you bite your bottom lip trying to hold onto yourself. “now curl your finger” you take a minute to steady yourself before doing what he told you to. once your finger hit that spongy spot, you let out a high pitched moan at the newly discovered sensation. farleigh smiles at your reflection in the mirror, “there you go” you experiment with the all new experience for you, you try curling your fingers multiple times against the spot as it gives you pleasure each time. farleigh watches you get lost in the sensation in the mirror, fucking yourself on your finger. his eyes darkened as he feels a dark, lust dripping need form inside him.

as you rapidly fuck your finger into your pussy, you feel knotting in your stomach, a weird tingling making you feel like you were gonna pee. “farleigh-“ you call out to him, your free hand grabbing his arm that were resting on your waist. “you’re close baby ?” you knit your eyebrows at his words, unfamiliar with the feeling. “keep going, you’re doing so good” he encourages, his lips kissing against your neck, trailing behind your ear. he sucks the skin at the back of your neck as he feel your breath getting faster and heavier. all the overwhelming pleasure is new to you yet it feels too good for you to stop. “you can cum princess, cum for me” you can feel yourself chasing after something, until it all comes crashing down, the orgasm washing over you as the sweat making your hair stick onto your forehead. he looks at you through the mirror, offering you a smile as he pushes the hair out of your forehead and wiping the sweat from your rose tinted hot cheeks.

“you did such a great job, baby” your breath hitch at the new nickname, yet your head is too clouded to say anything about it. he let you catch your breath in his lap, his hands roaming at your waist. “that should cure you” he says before pulling you up, he gets up himself as he places you carefully on the bed, you sit at the spot he sat in just now. though you feel relieved, you feel like you wanted more, you wanted more of him, more of whatever that was happening, the pleasure clouding your better judgement. “farleigh,,” you call out just as he was about to walk away. “let me do something for you” he turns, his lips pursed to hold himself back from smiling at the fact that you’re about to walk right into his trap. he walks back, standing right in front of you. “yeah ?” he says, as you start reaching up and tugging at his belt. your eyes notice the huge bulge at his crotch. “you’re- hard, boys like it when girls suck them off when they’re hard, right ?” you ask him, he moans at your words. “well yeah, but you don’t have to” you shake your head at him, “i want to” you’re quick to respond as he bites his lower lip to suppress the strings of curses he wants to let out. “you’re the sweetest- fuck,,”

you begin to unbuckle his belt as he watches you carefully. he could cum right this second just by looking at your pretty innocent looking face. “god, you’re so breathtakingly pretty” he compliments, earning a giggle from you. you’re gonna look even prettier with a huge cock stuffed in your mouth, he thinks. his eyes follow your hands, that are now taking out his cock from his briefs, your hands barely covering the size of his length. you take a deep breath before looking up at him through your lashes, batting them at him with your doe eyes. he smiles at you before throwing his head back once your tongue start kitten licking at his tip. his hand automatically reach up to rest at the back of your head as he watches you suckling his raging red wet tip. “am i doing it right ?” you ask him, worried that you might doing it wrong for your first time.

“fuck, right- its your first time” “just- try squeezing your hand around the base while you suck at the tip, fuck-” he suggests, his head getting light from all the blood rushing to his cock. his hand involuntarily pushes your head down, his cock fucking into your mouth. letting out a whimper, he struggles to keep his hips from buckling, his length hot and heavy on your tongue. your plump lips now wrapped around his cock, perfectly fit for you. smothering saliva all over it, your hands squeeze at the base, and the rest of it that you can’t fit in your mouth, his tip already prodding at the back of your throat. “so good baby, you’re doing so good- look so pretty with my big cock stuffed in your face, mhm” he says, sending familiar heat down your cunt, you feel it getting wetter as before. you try hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head back and forth, your lips wrapped nicely around his cock. you hear him let out a low guttural moan. you look up at him through your lashes, he’s throwing his head back from the pleasure, his hips slightly buckling into your mouth making you pull away.

catching your breath, you feel his large hands cupping your cheeks, smoothing over the skin. “you’re a natural, princess” you smile up at him, before trailing your eyes down to look at his length. he’s huge, his tip raging red with precum trickling down his length. you lean in to catch the drop of precum at the underside of his base, earning a curse from him, before he moans. “how are you already so good at this, fuck-“ you cant help but smile at his words before continuing your licking and sucking on his cock. its not long until you notice him twitching, cock jumping as his face contorts in pleasure. his hand reach up to wrap his fingers around him before he starts jerking himself off, his hand moving rapidly with his jaw hanging low, mouth agape. his voice cracks as he’s letting out a loud moan, before you watch him shoot ropes of sticky white mess, landing on your face, most covering your lips and cheeks, some on your collarbone. you’re shocked, a little weirded out by his cum sticking on your face but cant help letting out a giggle while looking up at him. he was catching his breath as he noticed you giggling, before letting out a laugh himself. He reaches up to your face, fingers collecting the cum before prodding them at your lips. You frown at his action, weirded out that he wants you to suck at his cum covered fingers. He nods, encouraging you, “you can taste” he offers, before you decide to give in, trusting him has been giving you bliss until now. You open your mouth as he pushes his fingers past your lips, your tongue lapping at the sticky substance. Humming, you look at him, “‘s sweet”

“well im glad” he chuckles

“you okay?” he asks as you nod before gaining the courage to tell him about the wetness forming again in your panties. “farleigh im- im wet again” he lets out a chuckle, “your cunny’s wet again ?” heat rushing up to your cheeks at his words as you shyly nod, embarrassed. “you do realise that just means you’re turned on right ? nothing to do with me putting a spell on you” he chuckles at the silly concept you believe in. you’re taken aback by his words, realisation hits. the first time was maybe explainable by your mother’s words, but the second time around, now that you’re wet again, he might be right. he sits on the bed before pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs settling on either side of him, straddling him this time. your eyes roam across his face, appreciating his beautiful features, his long lashes, his dark brown eyes, his thick eyebrows, they’re all so pretty to you. you reach your hand up to graze your fingers along his lips, feeling every lines and crooks, slightly pulling at his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him.

he lets out a breath as he leans into the kiss, pressing his lips softly against your plump ones, savouring your flavour. your lips dance against his, pulling him closer to you with his large hands grabbing at your waist. the kiss is soft, and pure in some way, it feels like there’s only the two of you in the world at the moment. your first ever kiss with him. his lips moulds perfectly against yours, making you want to kiss him forever. he’s a good kisser too, effortlessly returning your kiss and offering his own, his tongue swiping across your lips. his hand on your waist start grabbing firmer, moving you back and forth against his thigh and crotch. he lets out a sigh as he pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead against yours as he looks down to see the tent in his pants forming again. he continues to lean into you, kissing you once again while he guides you to hump at his crotch. the material of his pants serving you a little bit of pleasure as you try to chase that orgasm you had discovered from earlier. “you can go faster if you want” he says, offering you his lap to help you get off.

“use me” he continues

you wrap your arms around his neck, your boobs pressed up against his chest to steady yourself. his hands continue to guide your pace by your waist as he plant soft kisses along the crook of your neck and your shoulders. the bulge in his pants rub against your soaked panties before you accidentally angled yourself that you’re humping against your clit. the tingling of pleasure spreading all across your body leaves you a moaning mess, causing him to buckle his hips against your pussy. “you’re doing great princess, does that feel good to you ?” he asks as his hand roam across your back, encouraging you to get yourself off on his lap. you nod at him, too caught up in the pleasure now that you’ve found your sweet spot. “can you use your words for me baby?” you whimper at his request as you arch your back against him. “feels- feels so good far’” you manage to let out before letting out a whine.

“that’s my girl” he smiles.

you continue to work yourself on his lap yet you feel like you need more. grabbing at his polo, his eyes search into yours before trailing down at your hands pulling up the hem. he helps you take of his shirt as you marvel at his toned chest, fingers grazing along his collarbone. your pace on his lap becomes stuttered, interrupted by you trying to undress him. his hands grab your roaming ones, stopping your eager movements. “what do you need ?” not responding to his question, you grab the hem of your top instead, pulling it off of you. farleigh’s breath hitch as he moan at the bouncing tits in his face. he grabs at your waist to get you to look at him, his eyes pleading for your permission. you return his gaze, looking into his eyes for a moment before slowly nodding. he maintains eye contact with you as he slowly poke his tongue out, licking at your nipples, looking at you through his lashes. the warm wet tongue against your sensitive bud makes you moan, as you feel the bulge underneath you twitch. he’s now mouthing at your mould, his tongue spreading saliva all over it, all while looking into your eyes. pulling away, he grabs at both of them “such pretty tits, fuck”. you moan at his words, beginning to rub your clit against his crotch again. “need- need more farleigh” you plead him, before he grabs your waist to lift you up and lay you on the bed. now that you’ve had a taste of him, you can feel your body crave for more. for all of him.

“yeah ? that sweet cunny needs more huh ?” a sudden rush of hear creeps up your cheeks as you raise your hands to cover your face from embarrassment. you feel like you’re all exposed to him, like a platter waiting to be devoured. “you’re so small, i don’t think i can fit-“ he begins, as he leans down to plant soft kisses under your boobs, trailing down to your stomach with his hands roaming across the soft skin. “i’m gonna try something” he slowly takes out his cock that was covered by the crotch of his pants, his belt clacking as he winces at the friction against his length. he rests his cock on your soaked panties, his length heavy and throbbing. you look down to see his size, his tip reaching your lower belly. “such cute panties, shame it’s all ruined now” he smirks at the flimsy fabric of your panties that is now drenched in wetness. tracing his fingers at the cute ribbon at the top, he uses both hand to lift the fabric, stickiness stringing in between it and your pussy. he pushes his cock underneath the fabric before pushing it down with his fingers, creating a tight friction for him. he hisses at the feeling, before looking up at your eyes attentively following each of his movements, curious to see what he’s doing.

“‘m gonna fuck this panties okay ? rub my cock against your little folds. it’ll feel good” he informs, to which you nod. after that pleasure of riding in crotch earlier at his orders, you’re excited to see what this one’s gonna feel like. you wear him let out a moan as he starts moving, his hips fucking into your panties, his wet throbbing tip prodding against your sensitive nub, earning a whine from you. he’s right, it does feel good. and he looks so hot doing so, his face contorting and eyebrows knitted. his mouth agape as he lets out moans while looking at his cock going in and out of your panties, the wetness making the fabric translucent that he can see his cock fucking against your folds through it. he pulls the edge and pushes the hem further down, creating an even better pressure against his cock, pretending he’s fucking into your tight pussy. “fuck,, bet your cunny’s tighter baby” your eyes widen at his dirty words, your hands covering your mouth as you bite the skin on your thumb. not knowing where or how you gained the sudden confidence, “y-you can feel it for yourself” you offer, eyes carefully looking at his face, nervous anticipating for his reaction. his cock twitch underneath your panties before he throws his head back at your words.

“fuck princess,, you can’t say things like that”

“like what” you’re borderline panicking that you might’ve said something weird

“i might not be able to stop once i get a taste of your cunny”

you’re silent at his response, not really understanding what he meant by that. you continue to let him fuck your panties, his tip bulging through the material with each thrust. his length against your folds and his tip prodding at your clit makes you moan in a high pitch, the shivers travelling down your spine making you arch your back. grabbing at his hands, he looks at you while he struggles to halt his movements, his eyes searching into yours. “can you put it inside ?” you shyly asks, wanting to feel what it’s like to have his cock inside you, wondering if it’s gonna be the same as your first time. “what ?” his eyes widen at your request. he wasn’t planning on stuffing you full, you’ve already given him so much than he’d planned. “yeah- wanna, wanna feel your cock inside” he swears he almost busted at your words, his cock now painfully hard. “are you sure ?” he asks innocently. he’s been wanting to fuck you ever since he first saw you, so saying this is just a fucking cover for him. a manipulator he is, and you’re like a bunny foolishly trapped. “yes please” you bat your lashes cutely at him making him smile. making you say you want him inside you is one thing, but making you say please ? he fucking won.

he takes out his throbbing wet cock from your panties, his length bouncing as he settles on his knees, his face now infront of your pussy. he kisses at the fabric clinging onto your folds, moulding against your every crooks perfectly. he reaches the waistband of your panties, his lips kissing at your inner thighs on either sides of his face before pulling the band off your legs. his hands grab at your thighs as he looks at you through his lashes, smiling. he looks at your pussy infront of him, “thank you” he says before leaning in to kiss at your clit softly. you giggle at his actions, saying thank you to your cunt like he’s grateful for the meal. he chuckles against your pussy before getting up to put the weight of his cock on it, your wetness spreading onto his length, covering it with your juices. he moves backwards a bit as he positions his tip at your entrance before pushing his head in. you whine at the feeling, even with only his tip you can feel its bigger than you remember. who are you kidding anyways ? he’s 6’5, of course he’s gonna be huge. you whimper as he continue to push into your pussy, you push through the sting, taking his length like a champ. biting down at the skin of your thumb, he didn’t bottom out before he starts pulling out slightly, and pushing back in again. it’s a tight fit, your walls wrapped perfectly around his length as you hear the squelching sound from all the wetness. you offer him a soft smile shyly making him throw his head back.

“you’re so cute- oh” his words stumble as he feels you clenching down around his cock. “oh fuck” as his slow thrusts become stuttered, you giggle at his reaction before clenching down again. and again. and again- that he’s now crouched down against you, his face settling in the crook of your neck. “you okay ?” you tease him, at which he lets out a strained chuckle. “y- cunny’s so tight baby” you hold onto his shoulders as he starts thrusting again, bottoming up in the process. moans and skin slapping bounce against the walls of the room, the overwhelming pleasure making you forget that you’re in saltburn, having notably the best summer. you let him continue fucking into your pussy, letting out whines and moans ever now and then at him founding and hitting at your sweet spot. it was easy for him to find, every spot is basically so sensitive to you, he could thrust at any spot and you’d cum instantly. which is what’s happening now. your high pitch moans and legs shaking against his tells him that you’re close. “you’re close princess, cum for me” you whine at his words, his fingers reaching down to toy at your clit, helping you chase that orgasm.

the added pleasure makes you moan louder, your eyes searching his for encouragement. he looks into your eyes, his soft brown gaze makes you feel safe before you look down at his fingers rapidly rubbing at your clit. screaming his name, your orgasm finally crashes down on you, your breath heavy as your chest move up and down. “that feel good yeah ?” he asks you, he’s also catching his breath from watching you riding out your orgasm before you feel his thrusts getting faster and sloppier. sounds of skin slapping all so dirty to you as you hear him let out uncontrollable moans before he takes out his cock. his fingers quickly wrap around his length before he starts jerking off rapidly while moaning. his eyebrows knitted and face contorts in pleasure as he lets out a loud moan before you see thick sticky ropes of white land on your stomach, and settling on your pussy. he catches his breath while looking at the mess he made on your body. he looks up at you, offering you a smile before mouthing a ‘sorry’. his hand reaches down to move the strands of hair sticking on your face away, before leaning down to kiss you. you smile at him as he says “you’re mine now you know that right ?” your eyebrows quirk at his words, sure you’d wanna be his but you don’t quite get what he’s saying.

“good girls fuck one cock, you’re stuck with me”

taglist: @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @themoonchildwhofell @fuckshitslover @radioloom @love-me-pls @szapizzapanda @khxna

divider creds: @rookthornesartistry

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sea-owl · 3 days

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I was just thinking about the whole Debling vs Colin thing and I kinda wanted to point this out.

Debling and Colin are actually both perfect for Penelope but different sides to her.

Debling is Lady Whistledown's perfect match while Colin is Penelope's perfect match.

Debling has work he leaves for years to do, passions that take up more of his heart than any living human would. He left behind his own family who he says never understood him but that's all we know. He wants a wife to take care of the estate and the home front. He doesn't read Whistledown, meaning he won't ever see any similarities between Penelope's writing and Lady Whistledown's. If Penelope was truly Lady Whistledown all the time like the switch was flipped and never turned off, then this is a perfect life for her. On her own, left alone, and can run her business without interference. If she wants, she can fudge the numbers a little bit to hide some of her own money away in the estate. She'll have children one day that she'll love. She will be secured. She will also continue the status quo of her life before of being alone in her own home, and I would make the argument becoming more like Portia as time would go on. Now, don't get me wrong. Debling is a good man, but he is also Lord Featherington in a different font. Penelope already knows what life with Lord Debling would look like she's seen it in her parents' marriage, in her father. Lord Featherington put his own passions before his family as well, and while he never physically left, that man completely dissociated around his family. Again this type of life would be perfect for Lady Whistledown but Penelope rightfully so hesitates.

Colin, on the other hand, while he has his own passions, will still put someone he loves first. He's willing to be there to support them if they need it. He has a close bond with his family and wants to open that bond to any potential spouse that may be folded in. Once he knows his feelings, he's not afraid to show them. He's affectionate and sensitive to others. He also I noticed forgives rather quickly meaning he has the ability to see from someone else's perspective. This is someone Penelope has dreamed of for years, and frankly kind of needs. She's been emotionally starved of affection and never has seen or heard acts of love outside the few she's had from the Bridgertons. She was raised on tough love and never really shown softness before. Colin can give her that softness, that love, and happiness. But Colin is also a horrible match for Lady Whistledown. He is always in Penelope's business and space, and if not him, another member of his family would be. All in good faith, they watch out for one another, but it would make Penelope's absence a lot more noticeable. Penelope will also be shoved in the spotlight as well marrying in and while she has craved the potential change it makes her work much harder. His disdain for Whistledown as well has been well spoken to others. He also potentially has the clues to piece together Penelope's identity. He has her letters and Lasy Whistledown is not hard to get either. If Penelope accidentally made any mistakes in either writings, like similar phrasing or she reused something from his letters in Whistledown he could clue it together. He will most likely be angry at first but I also think given time to cool off he be willing to hear her out. He's already shown he's not afraid to fight for her so what's one more round?

And the funny thing is Colin has the potential to be Lady Whistledown's match as well. He's a good writer and has been shown to engage in gossip, too. He moves fluidly around the ton, charming them and easily communicating with them. His strengths compliment can help boost where Penelope has a weakness. They can very easily become true partners, Lord and Lady Whistledown. We first just have to get Colin to warm up to the idea.

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #lord debling #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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vivwritesfics · 6 hours

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I feel like we need a return of witch!oscar

Maybe reader finds one of his books and tries to make a potion from it despite not understanding any of it

No but I started thinking last night I could do a whole witch!oscar thing but i've got so many things to come out first that this might be an eventually situation. For now pls keep sending in witch!oscar

Oscar had been insanely protective over his things when she first moved in. Like, crazy protective, to the point where they fought and she threatened to move out.

(He wasn't ashamed to say he'd begged her to stay. The fighting, though, it wasn't for nothing. It was to keep her safe, even if she didn't understand that. Oscar would do it all over again to keep her safe).

But, as it came to a year of living together, Oscar had stopped this crazy protective thing he had over his stuff. He stopped guarding that bookshelf full of recipe books like a crazed dog and no longer bothered hiding that box full of God knows what under the floorboards under his bed.

(Now, understand, Oscar would have told her. If he didn't think the information would have put her in more danger, he would have told her exactly what he was. It was eating him inside, her not knowing as she slept against him, content in this safe bubble Oscar had created. Created through lies that had him feeling sick and the protection spell he'd put on the apartment).

Even now that Oscar trusted her with his things, he hated leaving her in the apartment on her own for extended periods of time. If he'd just told her what she was, she couldn't be in danger of accidentally cracking open a spell book and messily casting an incantation. But, when the council called, Oscar had to answer.

(She was what this meeting was about, actually. Most witches were solitary creatures, preferring company of their own kind and even that was rare. Oscar was the exception, with his human girlfriend. As much as the other members of the council looked down on it, on their relationship, they knew they had to try and keep her safe from any magical mishaps).

"I didn't even know you had to go on business meetings for your work," she whispered that morning, cheek pressed against her shoulder.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I know," he mumbled. "But I'll be back before you know it."

Before he left, Oscar doubled the protection spell around the apartment. They hadn't been apart for this long since she'd first moved in, and part of Oscar just knew the council was holding the meeting on the other side of the country to test him, to test his patience.

She knew Oscar wasn't going to be in when she got back from work, but that didn't mean she didn't already miss him terribly. Making dinner, something Oscar usually took care of, was a chore that evening.

(It was the only time, aside from the protection spell, that Oscar used magic around her. He was a terrible cook, but it was partly how he'd won her over. Even if she found out what he was, he could never reveal this secret about his cooking).

When she pulled the most basic of ingredients out of the fridge, she spied something on the counter. One of the books from Oscar's shelf. He must have left it there on purpose, she figured. A book full of Australian delicacies he'd left for her so that she didn't miss him too much.

She cracked open the book and decided to make the first thing she saw, some kind of soup.

The ingredients were so odd, but they had all of them in the kitchen cupboards. Gathering up the ingredients, she started about making this odd, Australian soup.

(Maybe, if she looked a little closely, if she'd even considered being a little wary of her boyfriend, she would have noticed that this wasn't a recipe book, and this wasn't a recipe book).

It didn't look like anything Oscar had made. If she wasn't so hungry she would have tossed it and bought a pizza, chalked it up to her (lack of) cooking skills. But her stomach was grumbling and it didn't small that bad.

All it took was a single spoonful. Bless her, she didn't realise she'd made enough to dose an entire football stadium full of people. But one spoonful and she was on the phone to Oscar, crying about how much she missed him in a way that just wasn't her.

"Oscar," she cried through sobs as he thanked his lucky stars that he had a moment to pick up.

"Has something happened?" He asked quickly, panic in his voice.

She sniffled. "Yeah. I fucking miss you and my soup isn't as good as anything you make and I hate it and I want you to come home and I think we should get married and I think we should get a dog."

By the time she'd said the final few words, she was no longer crying. No, she was happy, excited even.

"Oh fuck." Oscar hadn't meant to let that slip, but he certainly didn't think it would make her cry again. "Oh, sweetheart, what have you done?"

It had to be one of those fucking love potions Oscar hated to much. And, to make things worse, it had been his fault. He'd left the book on the kitchen counter, of course she was going to think it was a recipe book.

Damn the council meeting, his girl needed him. "Sweetheart, can you throw the soup away for me?" He asked. There was no response, but Oscar could hear her moving around the kitchen, hopefully doing it.

"Done. It was gross anyway," she mumbled.

He let out a laugh, if only to comfort her. "Great. Go and get changed into one of my shirts and get into bed. I'm on my way and I'll make you something proper when I get home."

"Hurry back?"

"Of course."

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

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bloodreinasbathwater · 20 hours

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Little Dove

Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader

a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.

Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety

masterlist link / previous chapters

summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.

word count - 4629

...

Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.

The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.

She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.

With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.

"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.

At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.

"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."

Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”

As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."

"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.

Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.

Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"

With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.

As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.

From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.

"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.

Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.

"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.

But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."

Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.

…

Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.

Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.

Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."

Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."

Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.

Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.

As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.

But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.

"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.

Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."

Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.

…

As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"

Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."

Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"

Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."

Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"

Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."

Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.

But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.

Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.

Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.

"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."

Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.

She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.

"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"

Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"

Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"

Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."

Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."

Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."

But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."

Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."

Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.

Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.

they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"

…

Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.

The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.

The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.

Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.

And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.

With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.

y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.

She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.

And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.

With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.

Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?

She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.

The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.

But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.

The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.

She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.

Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.

in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.

She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.

…

Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.

He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.

Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.

He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.

The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.

He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.

Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.

With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.

The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.

Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.

Positive. Y/N was pregnant.

Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.

…

Tag List <3

@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions

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