Not my best. Not my worst. Happy valentines day! (Request from @theinternetisfulloftrash) Not edited, all mistakes are of my own stupidity.
“and where do you think you're going”
The large, dark cave was silent as those who called it home slept in their respective rooms or nooks, curtains drawn and make-shift doors shut. The only sound you could really make out were the waves outside, and the soft breathing beside you. Feel the rise and fall of a chest beneath your splayed out arm. You shifted a little with your eyes tightly shut and thought of the recent events, mulling over them to try and help you fall asleep.
Since rebuilding what was left of your home after the destruction brought on by outsiders who had tricked their way into everyone's trust, bedtimes had gotten earlier. Couples had grown closer. You, in particular, had grown close to the guy who’d come to meet with one of your (former) friends, Aimee. He’d stuck around while you guys rebuilt, feeling partially guilty for the damage that had been done, regardless of it not being his fault in any capacity.
After you’d all gotten comfortable again, you made it a point to keep finding tasks for him. Getting him better immersed into the group that was standing before he came along. You had figured if you could make him comfortable - make him feel like he belonged with you all - he’d stay.
This was two months ago. It was roughly two weeks into your assimilation plan when he’d cornered you one night, nerves visible in the way his hands fidgeted and his eyes kept scanning rapidly over your face. He’d confronted you about trying to keep him busy. About always finding an excuse as to why he couldn’t pack up and head back out. You were dumbfounded for an answer, stammering a little as your brain worked. You didn’t know how to cover for the fact you just wanted him around. Didn’t want to see him leave.
After a few beats of your heart and no answer, he took charge. Grabbing your shoulder in his large hand to pull you into a kiss. Once you relaxed into it, you knew you’d never let him leave you.
That night he’d moved his things from where he’d been staying near the mouth of the cave to your small bedroom towards the back. You two spent the next morning making it a nice place for the both of you. Finding nice shells along the shore to decorate with, a way to make the bed you slept on bigger, more comfortable. You’d both managed to scavenge another pillow too, one that would be more comfortable than the sweater he’d been using.
And that’s where he stayed, with you. Far longer than he insisted he was planning on staying. He kept swearing he would leave the next day, find his old friend group. See how they were going. And every night he’d crash on your bed with you, mumbling about how he was too tired and would leave the following afternoon. After this charade had continued for a week you concluded he never really had any intentions of going anywhere. He was yours.
And without any reserve, you were his.
That thought made you smile, eyes finally giving up on sleep as they opened. You scanned over Joel’s sleeping face, heart warming at the sight of your boy. You lifted up onto your elbow, carefully dragging your arm off of his chest, hoping he wouldn’t wake. Your own breath hitched when he shifted a little at the loss, rolling onto his side. Giving it a moment, you continued to watch him, all thoughts consumed by how handsome you found your man. And how warm your heart felt to see him so peaceful. You kissed his brow gently, just ghosting your lips against his skin. Waiting to make sure you didn’t wake him.
Once you figured the coast was clear, you pushed yourself up more, finding your way to your knees on the bed, then to your feet. You carefully turned, padding on your tiptoes to the curtain of the small room, gripping it at the top to keep the metal rings from making a sound against the pole it hung from.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You heard Joel’s voice call from behind you, tone deep and thick with sleep. You stopped dead in your tracks, hand held above your head. “Lower your hand, and no one gets hurt.” He drawled. You heard the bed make noise as he shifted on it behind you. You slowly lowered your hand back down to your side, swallowing hard to clear your throat.
“I was just getting some water,” you offered, keeping your back to him. You could hear his heavy footfalls on the dirt ground as he made his way to you. His large hands were soon finding your waist, rubbing over your sides gently. He was warm, pulling you back against his chest while his lips fell to your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses.
“We have water here,” he mused, voice muffled against your skin. “Thought you were sleeping.”
You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more access. “Mmm, no. Just layin’ there. Couldn’t sleep.”
His hands worked under your shirt, rubbing over your stomach before finding their way to your chest, cupping each breast. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, closing your eyes, thankful you hadn’t managed to get the curtain open. His kiss worked it’s way back up your neck, feathering over your jaw and cheek. “I can help you fall asleep,” his words were punctuated by his right hand leaving your chest, working it’s way into the front of your pants, resting over the underwear you wished in that moment you weren’t wearing. “If you want me to,” he concluded. You turned your face to his then, kissing him deeply as way of permission.
His lips pressed against yours and you could practically taste the smirk he wanted to make, his hand dipping underneath your underwear to explore your folds. “Lets get back to bed.”
Some distress tolerance DBT worksheets. It’s important to remember to only use these when you’re at the height of emotion and you need to bring yourself down to a level where you can actually manage the problem. If you use these when you’re able to manage the problem, they’re not useful and just a distraction.
Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Reader, side Steve Rogers/Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: You thought that becoming Queen was never in your cards. Your elder brother, by a great deal of years, was the heir to the throne; and when his time came he wore the crown with dignity. He was a grand King and the people worshipped him. Until his health began to fail. He'd quickly come to the conclusion he needed to relinquish the crown; leaving it to you. With an exceptional catch: you had to be wed. Luckily he'd already found the perfect husband for you, a King from a near country. Hopefully he will be worthy of your hand.TLDR; Reader is thrown into an arranged marriage with a perfect stranger in order to obtain her crown.
Aka: I am terrible at summaries.
A/N: See end.
Next Chapter
The kingdom was failing.
You were entirely too aware of the frailty that was your families reign. The once grand empire was becoming weakened. Their lynch around their land was loosening. Your brother, the king, had fallen ill. An unknown ailment that tightened his chest and shallowed his breathing. He was having to remove himself from the public eye. Had taken to weak favor with the court and the subjects. You feared that in time, your family would fall. Even worse, that another King would have your family overthrown.
You found yourself in your chambers, looking over a pile of parchments that had been delivered to your door earlier in the afternoon while you were having lunch in the grand dining room. Many were proposals from the subjects of your brothers rule; others were requests from females to join your inner circle, learn things from the Princess herself that they’d have no access to on their own. You would have your servant pull two or three requests from the pile and would allow them visitation with you for a few weeks where you would teach them to become proper and suitable for the prospect of marriage.
Another parchment unrolled and you read it quickly, sighing softly as you tossed it to the table before yourself. Another message you didn’t care for. You wondered how many times you could read the same thing from a stranger before you stopped accepting mail. Your chambermaid, Guliana, came to your side at the sign of distress. “Would you care for wine?” She wondered in her low, soft tone. You shook your head in response to her, frowning a bit.
She retreated back to where she’d been standing against the wall, watching with diligence over your room with her hands crossed in front of herself. You pushed down on the arms of your chair, lifting yourself from the cushion. “I think I would care for a bath,” you decided, heading for your bathroom. Guliana followed after you, busying herself with removing your cloak from around your shoulders. She delicately placed it over the bar which would hold all of your clothing, and turned to help you remove your over dress. She got the string at the top untied just as a knock sounded at the door to your receiving chamber.
“Mistress…” Guliana whispered, dropping her hand from the back of our dress.
“Answer the door, please. I can retrieve my cloak.”
She bowed her head and turned from you, retreating from the bathroom to the door of your receiving chamber. “Your Highness,” you heard her voice carry to you as you tied your cloak around your shoulders. “Please, come in. Your sister is redressing.”
You exited the bathroom, looking your brother over with impatience. “Anthony,” you greeted, wrapping your cloak tightly around yourself. “How are you feeling?”
Your brother stepped further into your chambers, taking a seat at the far end of the couch that was situated in front of the hearth. “Cold,” he managed finally, calling your maid over to add another piece of wood to the dwindling fire. She was quick in her movements but you could sense the stress in her shoulders. She didn’t like when your brother came to visit. You suspected any non-royal was made even a tad anxious by the King's presence.
“Would you like me to have Guliana retrieve a blanket for you?”
He shook his head, drawing the jacket he wore a little tighter around himself. “I would rather you take your seat. I’ve got something of a pressing matter to discuss with you actually.” He turned his attention from the fire to you, meeting your eyes. “Please, dear sister.”
You refrained from rolling your eyes to hide your annoyance. He wanted something, you were sure. You were also sure that it was something you weren’t looking to give him. “Dear brother,” you kept your tone even as to not convey your mockery. “I was asking for a bath to be drawn before you ventured to my wing. Would you not allow me to bathe and have this conversation in the morning?”
“I am afraid that it cannot wait.”
You studied him for a few beats before you took your seat on the opposite end of the couch, drawing your dress around yourself. “What is so pressing?”
Anthony took a long breath through his nose. The way in which the shadows were playing across his face made it seem much longer than it actually was. The lights made him look older, as well. Tired. You knew he was of low health, but now he looked nearly fragile. “I am afraid I am going to have the process of removing myself from the throne officiated. I cannot, in good conscience, continue to lead people when I can no longer care for myself.”
Your breath was tight in your chest, “I beg your pardon?”
His eyes scanned your face slowly, watching your expression change from confusion to concern. “I fear you’ve heard me correctly, dear sister.”
“But I do not think that is the truth. I believe I have heard you say to me that you’re intending to relinquish the throne, dear brother.”
He nodded.
“And who, pray tell, are you intending to take over in your absence? You haven’t an heir. We know your wife, may she rest her soul, was dreadfully barren.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Which, would leave you, it would seem.”
Your brows furrowed deeply, your eyebrows drawn together tightly. “Pardon me, once more, for I fear I do not entirely understand what you are trying to convey.”
Anthony drew in another deep breath, releasing his grip on his jacket. “You are to be my successor. You are to take the throne once I forfeit the crown. I will take my leave from the castle, here, and find the rest of my days spent at Castle Iron, a half days carriage ride from here. I will take the servants I have grown accustomed to, and will visit should you send for me.”
“Are you not seeing the glaring mistake in this most ridiculous plan of yours?”
He smirked, and you found your stomach gave a lurch. You hated when your brother smirked at you. Ever since you can remember his smirk had only brought trouble to your life. He turned more to you on the couch, taking longer to speak than you appreciated. You began bouncing your foot in your slipper in your anxiety. “Brother,” you pleaded. “How am I to take the throne if you and I are both aware a Queen may not rule without having a King by her side. And as I am aware, I am not currently betrothed to anyone.”
His smirk faltered a little as he clasped his hands together in his lap. “I suppose that leads me into the second matter that I want to bring to your attention.”
“You haven’t,” you kept yourself from shrieking.
He nodded, “I have.” You watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “It’s been in the process for months. I haven’t made this decision lightly, dear sister. I have given it constant thoughts and planning for ages.”
“I have reached out to a neighboring country. Their King is yet to wed, and they’ve agreed to join our countries. To bond our forces with theirs. They’ve offered their assistance in all that has troubled us, has weakened us.” He sat forward, leaning against his elbow on his thigh. “This is everything we could have hoped for. Everything we have needed. Our country will know security again. They’ve offered assistance in farming. Trade. Your nuptials will bring forth something I could never have fathomed for our people. Do you not see how wonderful this shall be?”
You stared at him with your lips parted in shock, your brain working a mile a minute at trying to process everything your brother had just said to you. You were in a shocked state. You knew that you were to serve your country as you’d been bred to. To just accept and allow, but. The thought of having your entire life altered by a choice made without even the slightest hint to you was making your heart race. “No!” You shouted at him, pushing your body up from the couch where you’d just heard more than you ever wanted.
“I will not be sold off like a prized cow to a prince I have never met to simply advance your favor.”
He set his jaw, muscles clenched tightly. It looked almost painful. “I will not remind you of how little say in this matter you have in contrast to what you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you have. I am your king, and you will do well to remember that. I have chosen to foster this relationship, and you’ve no choice but to allow it.
“This is for the betterment of not only the people, but as well as your life. If I weren’t to have chosen this path for yourself and the kingdom, we would surely be overthrown within months if not weeks. And I do believe you value your head upon your shoulders rather than within the executioners basket.”
You opened your mouth to reply, to say something - anything. But all that your brain would allow was a few stammerings before you were brought back down to your seat, your hands fisted in your lap. There ws nothing that you could say that would be proper for a King to hear, even if it were from his sister. So you sat, with your mouth closed tightly, and your hands clenched. The two of you remained in silence together for what felt like hours. The fire crackling as the only sound behind yourself.
When Anthony finally spoke, you nearly jumped, your pulse thumping. “I did not do this to upset you, and I did not do this out of spite. I am only trying to help and provide a better future for both yourself and this kingdom. I have been told this King is most gracious and kind, by those who do not need to speak highly of him for fear of death.”
“You mustn’t lie to me now, brother.”
He sighed heavily, “I am not lying to you. I am doing this to help you. Your future is going to be secured. You will be Queen. Your kingdom will be large than mine or our father could have dreamed it would ever be. This is grand.”
You kept yourself composed, your attention on the fire. “I think that I would like to be alone. Have a moment allowed to process the news of my betrothal, and impending crown.”
Anthony nodded and took a moment before standing from the couch, fixing his jacket. “Have a good rest of your evening dear sister. I will see you in the morning.” He nodded to your maid who opened the door and gave him a courteous smile and a bow. He walked out of the room and was surrounded by his bodyguards immediately. Your maid shut the door and turned to you with a soft expression.
“Congratulations, Mistress.” She whispered, looking to the bathroom. “Would you like that bath now?”
You shook your head, “no. I think I would like to sleep.”
Guliana helped you ready for bed and you found yourself unable to sleep. You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling as the fire began to once more die down. You had woken that morning, single and with no obligations. The crown was not looming over your head. It was hard to wrap your mind around the thought of a husband so suddenly. A husband, whom you realized, you’d never met. Your stomach lurched. You began to fear your brother had tied you to some oaf of a man. Perhaps one that was absurd in age.
Your mind started creating a picture of your unknown fiance. One that was making your sleep even harder to obtain.
You eventually gave up, choosing the couch and a bottle of wine.
~
A/N: Hi! This is like.. An out there story for me. I just got really into Tudors and Princess Diaries 2 and have thus decided that I wanted to write this slop... I really, really hope you enjoy it. Feedback would be rad as hell. If you’d like to be tagged please let me know. (-:
would you be able to do ❛ i’m not jealous. ❜ with stiles pleaseeeeee?
You would?! Thank you! I accept!
word count: 1.5k
pairing: Stiles Stilinski x F!Reader
warnings: oral (male receiving)
this was started as a full smut and then I began to feel sick and devolved into me just wanting to write a little something about blowing stiles... sorry! I hope you like it.... (-: ((disclaimer: all mistakes are my own, I didn’t edit this))
"I'm not jealous."
Stiles was silent the entire drive back to his house, one hand on the wheel and the other covering his mouth. He didn’t much acknowledge you as you regaled him with a tale of the party the two of you had just attended, offering a few disinterested grunts when he felt it appropriate. You had enough drinks in your system to not really need his conversation, stumbling your words out rapidly, hands flying around to punctuate every sound you were making.
And then you said it. The name that had been bothering him all night. The name that made his stomach clench every time he had heard it coming out of your mouth, hated the way it seemed so natural on your tongue. His body tensed of its own accord, spine stiffening, sitting up straighter in his seat as he threw the car into park on the driveway. “We’re home,” he grumbled, getting out of the car. He slammed the door behind himself, making you jump, cutting your story off short. You furrowed your brow, confusion falling over your features as you followed him out of the car. “Okay?” You waited for him to unlock the front door, leaning against the wall. “What’s wrong?” You tried, poking at his side playfully, hoping to hear a laugh or giggle from him in return. He pushed your hand away, turning the knob on the door. “Hey!” You called after him, following him dutifully into the house. He kicked his shoes off by the stairs, ignoring you as you called after him.
“Stiles!” You shouted, progressing further into the house, losing your heels next to his at the stairs. “What the hell, babe? Why’re you ignoring me?” You found your way up to the bedroom, tossing your jacket aside.
“I don’t know, why don’t you go ask your new best friend, Derek?” He snapped, pulling his shirt off over the back of his head, throwing it into the laundry basket. You watched him, head tilted to the side like a confused dog trying to process a command.
“What?” You finally managed, crossing your arms underneath your chest as you watched your boyfriend disrobe. “What are you talking about?”
He ignored you, making his way into the bathroom to brush the taste of the beer he’d nursed all night off of his tongue. You followed, intent on getting to the bottom of his attitude. “What are you talking about, I asked.” You repeated, leaning against the bathroom door frame. He huffed as way of response, rolling his shoulders as he squeezed toothpaste onto his brush, avoiding eye contact with you in the mirror.
“Are you upset because I was talking to Derek tonight?” You wondered, playing back all of the events of the night in your head. He rolled his eyes, popping the toothbrush into his mouth, scrubbing it over his teeth while resting his free hand on the counter. You could see the tension in his shoulders, and you smirked. Piecing it together at that moment. Your lips curled up into a smile as you made your way across the bathroom, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's waist, resting your chin against his slumped shoulder. “Baby…” You said in a soft tone. “Are you jealous I was talking to someone else?”
He spit into the sink, rinsing his mouth out before snapping at you, “no.” He wiped his mouth with the hand towel on the sink. “I’m not jealous.” He concluded, turning around in your arms to face you, resting his hands on your shoulders.
“You’re jealous,” you giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. “I wasn’t even doin’ anything. You know how Derek is, our favorite grumpy wolf. He was finally feeling talkative tonight, I hadda capitalize on that.”
Stiles kept his expression hard, but you could see him wanting to falter and cave into you with every soft kiss you placed to his neck and jaw. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, and I’m sorry if I did.” You tried, leaving a wet kiss on his collar bone. “And I certainly wasn’t flirting or doing anything to make you jealous.” You promised, unwrapping your arms from him, resting your hands on his lower stomach, rubbing your thumb against the dark patch of hair beneath his belly button that disappeared into his underwear. He leaned back against the counter subconsciously, listening to you explain.
You lowered you lips on his chest, biting a gentle path across his pecks. “I’m sorry,” you tried again, letting a hand slip a little lower on his body.
“I’m not jealous,” he grumbled again, watching your actions.
“You were, maybe you’re not actively jealous now, but. At some point tonight you were.” Your slipped a few fingers underneath his waistband, looking up at him. “Can I apologize to you?”
“You can do whatever you want,” he answered a little too quickly, eyes lowering to watch your hand.
You slipped your fingers lower, kissing his chin again. “And you won’t be mad at me anymore? Because I talked to your friend?” You asked, fingers gently wrapping around what you wanted most in that moment, tongue darting out to lick your lips.
His breath caught in his throat, eyes following your tongue. “I was never mad at you,” he reasoned, hips pressing a little away from the counter as a way of encouragement. You used your other hand to push his underwear off of his hips, following them down, resting on your knees on the floor in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. “But this is a good..” he trailed off, watching you wet your lips again. You pumped your hand along him once, twice, listening to the way his breathing picked up a little as you felt him thickening against your palm. You pressed your lips to the tip in a kiss, slipping your tongue out between them to lap along the slit, looking back up at him then. “Baby,” you whispered, lips dangerously close to him. “Admit that you were jealous.” You finished your sentence by wrapping your lips around his head, wet warmth distracting him for a beat.
“What?” He asked, looking down to make eye contact with you. “What did you say?” You could see from the look on his face that you’d said something wrong, that he was about to retaliate against you for the entire night. For the way you absolutely made him jealous, and for the way you just told him to apologize. You pulled your mouth away from him, going to speak, his hand fisting into your hair. “I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do.” he said, sounding annoyed, acutely aware that you still held his dick in your hand, fingers slowly pumping along him.
His hand pulled your head back a little by your hair, leaning down just enough to get closer to you. “Say okay, baby.” You swallowed hard, nodding your head a little. “Okay.”
The kiss he pressed to your lips was harsh and brief, releasing your hair. He stood straight again, watching you with narrowed eyes to see your next move. You were turned on by his anger, knowing it wasn’t real. That he never was actually mad at you for the conversations you’d had, or anything else that had happened tonight. Turned on by the way his voice got deeper when he told you what to do, and the way he’d grabbed your hair. You licked your lips, a sign to him that you weren’t upset by the little rouse he’d put you through, and took him between them again. Your eyes kept locked with his, taking him deeper into your mouth with every deep breath through your nose. Tongue pressed around the base of his dick, lapping lazily as you pulled back, hollowing your cheeks around his tip in the way you knew he liked. You almost wished that he’d kept the charade going longer. Pulled your hair more, or gotten a little meaner with you. You always did enjoy when your man feigned aggression, broke free of his soft bumbly side for once. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it always had you craving him more than usual. You sunk your mouth down on him again, bracing your hand against his thighs to keep yourself steady, being slow and methodical with the way you bobbed your head in time with your hand, swirling your tongue around him with each pull back.
His hips started following you with every movement of your mouth and you took that as your cue to pull him out of your mouth completely, standing from your knees. “So, remind me again -” you started, pulling your shirt off over your head. “What was your problem tonight? Cause I think you didn’t prove you weren’t jealous.”
Stiles rolled his eyes at you, turning the two of you around in a quick movement, lifting you onto the counter that was now behind you. “I liked you better when my dick was in your mouth,” he snarked, pulling your pants off of you, hands moving quickly along your body to get you as undressed as he was. “Drop it baby.”
I have two updates (i know I’m just yelling into the void, but I hope someone reads it!)
1.) I have actually, genuinely gotten the next few steps of The Bluff mapped out!! I’m going to begin writing again!!! WOOT!
2.) MORE IMPORTANTLY!!! I have an etsy shop!!! If you’re interested in getting a hand written letter from your Teen Wolf comfort character, this is the place for you!! Order Your Comfort Letter Now! (-:
