#Give us your ideas requests prompts and wishes
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💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖
Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝
The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️
For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3
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PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!
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Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia.
Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).
Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)
The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.
Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.
You awake?
Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.
He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him.
“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.
“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”
“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him.
Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.
“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”
A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.
“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.
“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.
“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”
Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.
“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”
“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.
“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”
Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet.
“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.
“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”
“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.
The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.
“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.
He had to steel himself for his next question.
“What do you mean?”
“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself.
A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.
“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’
“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.
“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”
Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.
“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”
“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”
Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.
“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”
“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”
Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)
“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”
Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.
“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”
That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.
“Probably not half as much as I did.”
Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.
If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.
It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.
Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇
Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.
yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤
From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.
#blind channel fanfiction#blind channel rpf#ollixallu#24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling#<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw#everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖#it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏#but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂#so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭#some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌#(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀)#some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out!#(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3)#however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone#one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨#also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3#probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol#anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3
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chiyo ik ur taking a break but i need... i need a jjk fan to hear this
,,,,,, g g g g gojo satoru and you getting married but ,,, but,,,, you're so irresistible you both had,,, yk,,, in the car while going to the church... only wearing your veil too....
WAIT IS THAT BAD
on another note i do hope your college life treats u well cause... yeah <33 i read that you're on medication? i wish you a get well soon mwamwamwa and nothing but luck and fortune as always hehehe
“wedding day, breeding day”
j. kaisen : gojo satoru.
gojo satoru, the strongest, and gojo satoru, the impatient. he always was, and that impatience will not stop him from dicking you down on your way to the church, just a car ride away before the event, the event of your wedding with him.
▶NOTE. i can't resist the idea, and i wanna get used to taking requests so... i'm gonna use your prompt to practice my mindset, thank you for checking up on me jiji ilysfm <33!!
“y-you just... you just couldn't wait, could you?”
“how the—fuck, how could i mamas?”
the poor driver's cheeks and ears flushed a sinful pink hearing your broken sobs, now debating if he shouldn't partake in guilt, or... keep the window down to listen to the sounds of sex behind him.
you whisper, or attempt to. “the driver- ’t-toru the driver's—” “—don't care, don't care, don't care.” he speaks out with every thrust, his moans growing and mixing with yours.
the limousine continues to drive, to the church, but in comparison to earlier's driving, it had slowed down quite a bit, benefitting your soon-to-be-husband's stability. your hamstrings were pressed against his ruffled, messed up torso, the rest of your legs hung over his shoulders.
“it's-... y-you know it's bad to see your partner before—s-shit!” you moan out arching your head against the window, letting satoru see your face.
you gave up the act once satoru brought a hand down between your legs, his thumb beginning to rub your pretty clit with a mischievous, slurred smile. “my clan wanted the publicity for this shit,”
he pauses his movement, his cock buried into yours, he could feel you tense, clenching him, feeling that lubricated twitching around him.
you look up to him dazed and puzzled, and he curls himself forward, towering over your seated form. “shocking news! the gojo heir, marrying!?”
he grins, attempting to pull his cock right out of you slowly, you were just so tight, so warm, holding onto him and his needy cock like that.
“s-shit baby,” he moves one of your legs down while he continued to hold the other over his shoulder. satoru's free hand gets occupied by his cock, stroking himself while you bit down your bottom lip to the sexy sight.
“stuck-ups, all of them,” he says bitterly with a grunt, but that bitterment melts once he moves his hips forwards again, rubbing the underside of his aching cock above your leaky pussy, stimulating hot pleasure onto your clit.
you whimper, seeing him prepare his cock again to enter inside you, but the limousine comes to a halt. his eyes dart up from you, towards the window behind; annoying, blinding camera flashes, clueless happy people, starstrucked paparazzi—and he grins once more.
“look mamas, they're all so damn eager for us,”
just like both of your warm cores, twitching against each other. “prying, dirty fucks,” he hisses once he prys open your downed leg wider to the side, giving him a gate to heaven itself.
flash one, flash two, three, and more. the amount of times a flash blinds the two of you from outside the limousine, he thrusts his cock inside simultaneously, urgently, his cock getting sucked up by your insides while embracing your leg over his shoulder. “th-that's it baby, just like that, take me all, take me all,” he sucks up a shaky inhale.
“fuck—fuck—fuck,” satoru slurrs out with every thrust, and all you could do was pant heavily, a hand covering your mouth to muffle your soft mewling. “gonna cum baby? you gonna cum? i can feel—i feel your insides taking me in so well,”
“shit mamas,” warmth coiled behind his spine, satoru's thrusts became sloppier, frantic, chasing his satisfaction, unsteady and throaty exhales more pronounced. “play with your dirty pussy,”
“play—fuuuck, fuck i'm gonna-” both of his hands clung around on your leg, hazy eyes now closing to focus on that increasing sensation of heat.
gritted teeth, allowing a small stream of drool to fall on the corner of his lips, and your body caved in to the discomfort of the position, laying limp on your side, with your face towards the front of the car, where you met the driver's eyes briefly on the rearview mirror. “s-so good ’toru, so good so g-...”
“gonna cum—gonna cum, gonna—fucking—cum, gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” he speaks in between each pound inside you, his muscles tensing up.
“gonna make you my wife with this cum-” he puts your leg down, repositioning himself frantically by laying you straight against the seat, inserting his cock inside you again once your pussy was infront of him. “s-sator-” “fuck! i'm cumming baby i'm-”
“fuuuck,” your walls clench around his cock, thrusting in one final time, flooding his hot cum inside your creamy cunt, mixing in with yours.
“p-pretty—fucking—pussy,” satoru overwhelms himself during his high, shuddering in each repeated thrusts, while you spasmed violently in your orgasm. “all mine, all mine, all fucking mi—”
flash, flash, and flash. “ah,” the door swings open merrily, muted noises from outside now, loud, blaring. multiple gasps and cussing simultaneously heard, a blinding light shining on your breeding session, on your soon-to-be husband's bare ass anyways.
annoyed, but quick, satoru removes his jacket, tossing it infront of your face, along with hiding your torso. he knew you were too weak to react, let alone cover yourself for some decency, and what kind of future spouse will he be if he let his pretty, and dazed wife be ridiculed over this?
he can see it all. not only curses, but tabloids, tabloid after tabloid, 'the gojo clan's heir, claiming a taboo before his wedding'. articles of public indency, the act of premarital sex! tarnishing the prestigious name and reputation of his clan!
his god-awful, forsaken clan.
satoru clicked his tongue, his face once pleasured, now contorting to repulsion, disgust, looking over to his shoulder for the paparazzi to take photos of his flushed, red side profile.
his hands subconsciously move down to your waist, holding you close to him while you recovered slowly, placing his badly placed attention back to yours again.
“hey baby,” he pulls out slowly, practicing retraint from grunting, biting down his bottom lip, still feeling your insides hold his cock tightly.
“h-hm?” satoru makes sure you're hidden infront of his thankfully large frame, properly placing his jacket that he gave you covering your entire bare torso, leaning down to give you tender kisses along the stream lines of your tears.
“hmhm, pretty, pretty girl,” he towers over you protectively, his thumb making circles along your abdomen lovingly.
“you don't mind if we marry with papers instead, right baby?”
NOT AT ALL SATORU. NOT AT ALL. I DONT MIND AT ALL.
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campfire - bsk
pairing: seungkwan x reader
word count: 1.7k
warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning
request prompt: "What are we to each other?"
A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."
Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway?
Yours. Right. It was your idea.
You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.
The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped.
Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern.
"Did that hurt?"
You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment.
You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.
“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”
He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”
Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”
“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”
That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”
You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”
“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”
You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”
You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence.
A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?
The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.
“I’ll help them.”
You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours.
“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”
“Seungkwan…”
He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire.
“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.
Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.”
“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t.
Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”
You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”
Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”
You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”
He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”
“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”
Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”
“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?”
You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”
His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?”
Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“
“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.”
Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”
“Oh my god,” you say after a moment.
You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.
“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”
Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”
“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”
Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.
“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face.
“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”
@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo
#seungkwan x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen imagine#seungkwan fluff#seungkwan imagine#seventeen fluff#my writing#bskfic#bookyeom700
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🐠 haii for the requests milestone thingy could u do pavitr prabhakar x reader and the prompt “are we ab to kiss rn” and then the other actually leans in? c: TY IF U CAN ‼️❤️💖
↳ pairing : pavtir prabhakar x g-neutral reader
↳ synopsis : request ♡
↳ authors note : EUEEUEEU this is sosososo cute actually, i love this idea sm. ATSV SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!! im not entirely sure if i like this.. bute eeurrueue i tried my best
You and PAVITR had known each other for a while, long enough that he trusts you with his secret of being Spiderman with how close you two were.
Now you were on one of the tallest buildings in Mumbattan, swinging your feet over the ledge as Pavitr sat beside you with his hand unintentionally holding onto yours firmly since there was a small bit of lingering fear at the idea of you falling.
"Jeez, finally.. a break." He sighs in relief, taking off his mask with his free hand as you chuckle. "Isn't being Spiderman supposed to be sooo easy, Pav?" You teased, watching him roll his eyes in amusement. "Well, of course it is. But it certainly is busy, and I really just wanna spend time with you." Pavitr answers honestly, noticing how you seemed to be even just a little surprised and he was very entertained by that idea. You can already see his own little smirk beginning to form.
You clear your throat to hopefully shift the topic. "What made you so burnt-out today then?"
It didn't take long for you to see how his face shifts to a frown, and you knew exactly what he was about to bring up. "Miguel.. he's been so hard on some of us recently, especially the new-comers who he introduced the 'canon events' to." Pavitr runs a hand through his hair, his sigh was a mix of sadness and frustration as he recalls the events that occured earlier in the day. "They just want to save their loved ones.. no one can accept that kind of information and simply allow it to happen, you know?"
You nod along with his statement, unable to even imagine the dread those people must feel, just waiting for the people they care about most to die for their own development.
"But that's a sad topic, and today is supposed to be a nice resting day for the both of us." Pavitr smiles a little to lighten the mood, squeezing your hand softly as you take a deep breath. "Mines not been the best either.."
The smile he tries to hold falters at those words.
"Mom.. she's still very insistent on the arranged marriage." You let out a forced and bitter laugh. "I don't.. I mean, I don't know if I want to marry that person when I'm older. I've met them twice, Pav. And in the future, I have to spend every single loving who is essentially a stranger. Isn't that even a little weird in my parents eyes?"
He hated seeing how hopeless you looked, having no choice in who you want to love is devestating and in some cases lonely. Seeing real couples on the street and wondering what kind of innocent love you're likely missing out on.
Pavitr stands up and your head follows him as he does so, watching his determination-filled face as he pulls you up with ease. "Let's not wallow in sadness, yes? I'd much rather see you smile than frown." His hand makes its way to your cheek, causing you to chuckle softly as you lean into the touch and place your hand over his. "Thanks, Pav."
And without thinking, the next sentence you manage to stupidly utter out is; "Gosh, I wish you were the one I married instead."
You can see the visible surprise in his face when you say that, before you realize what exactly escaped your lips. "W-wait..-"
But it seems like Pavitr seems more affected than you, the hand once placed on your cheek immediately pulled back to cover his mouth and the uncontrollable but flustered smile on his face.
"You want to marry me??"
Instead of a mocking or angry tone, he seems genuinely happy that the person he's had a secret crush on for year or so finally gives some sort of hint that he's more than a friend.
"Do you mean it? Like.. really mean it?"
"I mean, yeah! Anyone would want to marry you.."
There's silence exchanged between the two of you, staring at each other in confusion, disbelief and surprise.
"What? Are we about to kiss right now?"
Pavitr teased to ease his nerves, but imagine how much worse they got when you actually started to lean in. He begins to quietly panic, however in all honesty he wants to do nothing else but kiss you at the moment. What if he never gets the chance to do it again? He couldn't risk that.
He finally presses his lips against yours, albeit very very nervously but a kiss is a kiss and goodness is he into it. Pavitr melts into the intimacy, but is very quick to pull away incase you're uncomfortable.
It seems almost impossible how fast his heart is racing when he watches your eyes flutter open and the realization that you actually kissed Pavitr rushes through your head quickly.
...
"Can we do that again..?"
"Gladly."
#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitr x reader#spiderverse x reader#spiderman atsv x reader#atsv x reader#spiderman x reader
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Bad idea
A/N: Yeah...it's been six months since I've even touched this blog but I have a new hyperfixation so here we are. Kind of wrote this in a daze but let me know what you think, as well as any other prompts or requests you'd like to see!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Ler!Alastor, Lee!Angeldust, Switch!Charlie (All Platonic)
Summary: Angel somehow convinces Charlie to pull a prank on Alastor. Neither are prepared for the consequences this will have.
Warnings: Tickling, Swearing, Mild sex jokes
Word Count: 2145
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Yeah this was a bad idea.
Rapid footsteps could be heard booming down the hallways of the hotel as Charlie and Angeldust found themselves running for their lives away from one of the most powerful overlords in Hell.
Charlie couldn't quite say what possessed her to get involved with one of Angeldust's pranks, maybe it was boredom or a desire to bond with her friend, but common sense should've told her to back out once Angel named their target.
It was no secret the Radio Demon had a soft spot for his favorite dish which he cooked at the same time each day without fail.
It was also no secret that the demon's oral hygiene was...lacking.
No matter how many times he was informed of this fact, politely or otherwise, Alastor just did not seem to care about keep that particular area clean.
So of course, when the spider demon suggested the two of them mix toothpaste in with the demon's jambalaya, Charlie knew the deal was too hilarious to pass up.
The look on the demon's face when he came back to see that his food had turned blue was priceless.
Yeah, a bad idea, but hilarious nonetheless.
Or it would be until the demon had caught up to them at least.
Neither of them thought the demon would actually hurt them over something like this, seeing as it would hurt his own goals in the long run, but they weren't too keen on finding out what he would do instead.
The pair stopped abruptly at the end of the hallway in front of the only other elevator on that floor. Angeldust crouched and frantically pressed the down button, while Charlie's dumbass was trying to pry the doors open.
"You're seriously telling me you didn't have a better escape plan than just yelling 'Run'?"
"Hey, I didn't actually think we'd make it as far as actually getting into that creep's room. The plan was to at least be able to outrun you but you're a lot faster than I would've thought, Princess." The spider chucked.
The girl's jaw dropped at hearing that. "I thought this stupid prank was a chance for us to bond! You were just going to ditch me to take the fall for your stupid idea?!?!"
The elevator chimed as the doors opened.
"Yeah, pretty much." The spider chuckled as he jumped inside.
Betrayal and a bit of anger filled the girl as her eyes went red and horns grew on top of her head. She grunted as she tackled her friend inside the elevator, doors closing behind her.
Angel grunted as he hit the ground. "Aww, did I make the pretty princess mad? I don't see what the big deal is, whatever that red freak has planned, he'll go a lot easier on you." The demon said as he smiled up at his friend.
"Yeah, well you're gonna wish you'd stayed behind once I'm through with you."
With that, the girl began skittering her fingers rapidly underneath the spider's arms.
Whatever smartass remark Angel was going to say next died in his throat and was replaced with hysterical laughter as his worst spot was targeted.
"aaa-AAH! AHAHA-Charlie! CHARLIHEHEHEHAHA!!! WAHAHAHIT!! Wait- DONT- AHAHAHAA!!!" The spider demon cried out as he began kicking his legs viciously.
Charlie had been meaning to test her friend's sensitivity for a while now. She had seen how small touches and pokes affected her friend from time to time. She'd noticed when Husk began giving quick pinches to the spider's ribs whenever he mad a dirty joke or was becoming too much for the cat to handle. Or when her girlfriend used a pen to poke around the spider's torso whenever she needed to herd him away from something. She especially noticed how Angel's face contorted each time as he fought to suppress his smile. Charlie had been waiting for the longest time to ask the demon about it, or test her theory herself. Y'know... to bond.
So yeah, Angel had this coming for a while now.
So focused on her revenge, neither her or Angel noticed the elevator open to the main floor, where Alastor was waiting patiently for the two of them right outside the entrance.
"Well well well, seems the two little troublemakers have turned on each other already, how fun!" The demon grinned evilly before conjuring up a pair of tentacles to yank the pair out of the elevator.
The two of them yelped as they were dragged from their hiding spot and held midair by the appendages.
Alastor looked the two of them up and down, eye twitching as he did so. "So...it's clear to me that you two heathens are looking for a death sentence, which I am more than happy to provide. But before I get to teaching the two of you a lesson, I am curious who's genius idea it was to mess with the Radio Demon in the first place."
"Mine!" Angel exclaimed proudly. Earning a confused look from Charlie.
"What? He clearly thought my idea was good, obviously I want credit for it." Smug bastard. Alastor did not seem amused with his confession however, Angel's comment actually seeming to have annoyed him even further.
"I thought so." The demon said. "I'd expect this level of childishness from someone like you, although I'm thankful it wasn't of a more perverted nature. However..." He turned his focus to Charlie who was still trying to wriggle her way out of the grip the appendage had around her waist.
"I expected much more from you, Charlie. Why I'd go as far to say I'm disappointed in you."
She felt a pang in her chest at hearing the demon's words.
"No, Alastor...I'm sorry if we upset you. I just thought it would be a bit of harmless fun! And Angel never asks to do anything with me so I got a bit excited. I'm sorry."
A frown quickly replaced Angel's smug grin and he averted his gaze to the floor.
Alastor couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them. "Oh you two are so sweet...it makes me sick. But how could I not accept such a heartfelt apology coming from my favorite hostess?"
The two perked up almost immediately.
"So...we're off the hook?" Angel asked hopefully.
Alastor fiddled with his staff as if bored by this whole conversation. "Well, seeing that neither of you are getting maimed today, I'd say yes...to an extent."
"To an extent?" The princess asked.
"Well I still have to teach the two of you a lesson somehow. No one messes with the Radio Demon and gets away with it." He smiled. "However, I do believe Charlie here has given me a wonderful idea how to do that~"
She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean by-AAAAAAAA!!"
Charlie let out a shriek as she felt something wriggle on the back of her knee. She looked down to see a much smaller tentacle scribbling along the dreaded spot. She began kicking her legs out desperately only to be stopped by two more tentacles holding them in place.
The attack quickly threw the girl into hysterics, the one tentacle already throwing her into a frenzy. Screaming and whipping her head side to side, she pushed and pounded her fists against the appendage retraining her, trying and failing to reach down to stop the offending tentacle that was honing in on her worst spot.
Angeldust couldn't help but laugh at her dramatic reaction. Although, he wasn't too keen on getting his shit wrecked again. Thinking he could use his charm to smooth-talk his way out of this situation, seeing as the demon avoided him like the plague if he could talk dirty enough.
"You guys are full of surprises today, arent'cha?" He said using his little flirtatious tone, knowing it annoyed Alastor to no end. "I'm proud your old ass is finally experimenting, dust nuts. I'm more than happy to help you explore with bondage but I can't say I'm all that into this tickling stuff."
The demon turned to him and grinned evilly. "Oh, good! That's exactly what I was afraid of."
Yeah, bad idea.
Angel's wrists were snatched up by yet another appendage before two more attacked his underarms for the second time that day.
"GAHAHAHAHAHAD OKAY!! OKAY CUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOUT!!"
Angel screamed, trying with all his power to pull his arms down but it was no use, the radio demon had the two of them completely and hopelessly trapped.
Alastor just hummed, pressing a hand to his chin and pretended to think. "Don't think you two have learned your lesson quite yet. Although, I am new to this particular method. Hows about I ask an expert. Oh Charlie~" He turned to the princess again. "Do tell me, how effective would you say is tickling your enemies into submission?"
The poor girl couldn't even get a word out between her screaming fits of laughter. All she could do was shake her head and pound her fists against her restraints as the back of her knee was tickled mercilessly.
"AAHAHAHAHA- STAHAHAAAAAA- ALASTAAAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHE-"
Alastor leaned in with one hand cupping his ear. "What's that? I'm sorry, I couldn't quite understand. I don't speak heathen, after all." He teased. "Angeldust would you mind interpreting?"
Angel began to lose himself in his own fit of hysterics as yet another one of the tentacles found its way to his stomach, scribbling wildly.
Although he was tempted to sprout his extra sets of arms, Angel has been in enough tickle fights with Cherri to know that underneath those arms would be exploited as well and just make the agonizing feeling ten times worse.
It took a lot more work for Angel to reach the same level of hysterics Charlie was currently in. Even with the three tentacles making him laugh his head off, Angel would say he was still holding out better than he normally would. At least compared to Charlie, who wasn't even fully restrained but was still completely losing her mind just from that one spot.
Alastor noticed this as well and seeing as anything more would probably make the poor girl faint, he focused his attention on Angeldust.
"You still feeling smart? Tell me, you still think your little genius idea was worth the trouble?"
The demon conjured up yet another pair of tentacles to poke and prod at his victim before they settled on attacking the demon's thighs instead.
Whatever control Angeldust thought he'd maintained before disappeared immediately. The merciless tickling in three different areas proved too much for him to handle.
"NOOHOHOHO- NO! I DOHOHOHON'T! I'M SORRYHEHEHEHEHE- I PROHOHOMISE IT WON"T HAHAHAPPEN AGAHAHAHAIN!!!"
"Good enough."
And with that, the tickling stopped. The tentacles carefully setting Charlie on the ground and disappearing while Angeldust was unceremoniously dropped midair.
Charlie huffed and hugged her legs to her chest, residual laughter still wracking her body.
Angeldust peeled his face off the ground and tried to recover from the torture as well.
"Well, I certainly hope that little lesson drilled something useful into your skulls. It's almost as if you act like children, you'll be treated as such. you, Charlie for that wonderful new torture tactic." He said smiling down at his victims.
Angeldust huffed and brushed himself off as he finally stood up. "Yeah, yeah. I'm glad you found something that gets your dick hard, just remember that consent is key before you go around fucking people up. I mean look at Charlie, you practically killed her." He said, gesturing to his friend who was still lying on the floor.
The demon let out a short laugh as he looked at the girl. Alastor snapped his fingers and a glass of water appeared beside Charlie's corpse.
"Well this certainly was an entertaining bonding activity." He said, turning to Angeldust once more.
"Just remember, I won't be as forgiving the next time you decide to pull a stunt like this." The demon said, finally before making his way back down the hall.
"If you took care of that rancid breath I wouldn't have too!" Angel shouted.
"Smells better than the musk you track in after one of your little shoots!"
Angeldust flipped the demon off as he watched him disappear down the hallway.
Eh, he's got a point. He thought to himself and looked down at his friend who was still in a fetal position on the floor.
Charlie had finally caught her breath and turned over on her back. Angel crouched down to inspect the damage.
"You alive?" He asked, giving her a soft punch on her arm.
The princess just glared at him and stuck a finger in his face.
"I am never listening to your dumbass again." She declared, earning another laugh from her friend.
"Yeah, that was a bad idea."
#sfw tickling community#hazbin hotel tickle#ler!alastor#ler!charlie#switch!charlie#lee!charlie#lee!angeldust
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the long awaited and heavily requested part 2 to this request.
Peter knows he did something wrong, he knows he violated your trust in him, he knows how disappointed you’d be in him, how you requested he leave one thing alone and he couldn’t.
It’s not that he planned it, he didn’t actively wait until the opportunity arose to strike his attack, it just fell into his lap. You politely requested him to pick up some of your things on his way back to the frat house from class, Peter was the one that asked you to stay another night and in turn you needed clothes and schoolwork.
And he was more than happy to deliver, moving around your room quickly packing up clothes, even folding them for you. Stuffing your backpack with your laptop, charger, notebooks and the textbook you needed, he completed the task in record timing.
Peter hitched the strap over his shoulder before lowering it, muttering to himself walking back to your desk. “Notes, notes, notes, vocab notes…” He opened the catch all drawer in your desk, shuffling papers around, none of them the one you needed. It has to be on top, you were just using them, Peter grabbed a stack and quickly flipped through.
A successful grin took over his face when he found them, pulling the paper from the stack his movements faltered. Right behind was that creative writing paper, the one you refused to let him read, the one you said would make him sad and drew a hard boundary on.
It would be a total violation of your trust, but if it’s about him, and more importantly, about the two of you, doesn’t he have a right to know? It wasn’t fiction, you didn’t draw up a make believe story, you wrote about your feelings, and it kills him to know that they most likely weren’t good.
What if he just skimmed it, or is that just as bad and he’s justifying it?
He wishes he had a stronger willpower, but you make him weak.
Peter drops to sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes reading over the bright red ‘A’ and the prompt, it makes his stomach queasy.
‘Write about a time someone in the story has a lot of hard lessons to learn.’
Peter closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, if he reads this he either has to tell you immediately or bring it to the grave. It’d be easier if he removes himself from the situation entirely and leaves, but he’s already reading the first paragraph.
It’s brutal. A blow by blow of your relationship, each moment you were broken by something he did or said that he had no idea of. Peter didn’t know he made you ache so much, how many times he’s sent you home to cry. How many times you wanted to share with him but held back, how many times you wanted to reach out and hold him but were terrified he’d push you away.
Terrified to tell him you were in love with him.
‘I think that’s been the hardest lesson to learn, it’s impossible to love someone who doesn’t allow themselves to believe in it. It’s made me curl inwards, to crave his touch, validation, care, love. To crave what he cannot and will not give.
But don’t tell him I’m sad again, it’s not what he’s made for.’
Peter feels sick, his stomach is in knots, his palms are clammy and fuck, is he crying?
A teardrop on the page tells him yes.
It is what he’s made for, he wants to know everything that makes you tick, everything that makes you sad, or the things that hurt you. He wants you to reach for him anytime you want, he wants you to share everything on your mind with him, he wants so much more than what you think he wants.
But it’s his fault you feel like that.
Peter’s broken your character, and you still fell in love. No matter what he’s done to you, you keep pushing through the bullshit. That’s why he loves you too, but fuck that’s just scary to think about, he doesn’t know how he could ever get the words out.
Wiping down his face and shaking his shoulders he puts the paper away. Sniffling as his phone rings, it’s lit up with your face, it brings a whole new wave of tears to blink back. Tilting his head to the ceiling he picks up, “hi, trouble. Missing me already?”
“I just woke back up, I thought you said you’d be back at nine.”
A sniff, “class ran late, I’m uh,” he clears his throat, moving around to grab your backpack. “Actually grabbing your stuff as we speak.”
“You’re so good to me,” a pang hits his chest, because he’s really not. “If you say so, need anything else before I leave?”
You hum over the line, you’re too kind, too patient, too forgiving. Why did he have to read the fucking prompt?
“Just you, handsome.”
Peter shuts the door behind him and feels heavy, all he wants to do is make you feel as loved as you make him feel.
“Want me to get you anything? Coffee, a redbull, or breakfast? I’ll splurge on anything you want, trouble.”
Your giggle makes him feel warm, “how about you come back for a cuddle and we can go out for lunch?”
It makes him feel better at being a shit human, so he agrees, and wonders if you had to hold back an ‘I love you,’ at the end of the call.
The second he gets home and opens his bedroom door you sit up from his pillow and open your arms wide, making grabby hands. “Kisses! I need kisses!” Peter carefully sets your bag down, biting back a smile, he slowly comes to your side and leans down to give you a chaste kiss.
You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him to you, “I said plural, Mr. Parker.” He gives you several pecks before telling you to scooch over with his hands and settling in next to you. You curl into him for a moment, he’s comfortable but you’re wide awake, and much rather see his face.
Sitting up, you hitch a leg over his waist and take mount, your hands resting on his chest.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
You look over his face and tilt your head, “how was class?” Peter blows a breath from his mouth, “boring and long, I kept thinking about a beautiful girl laid up in my bed.” All he can think about is how many times he’d made you frown, or cry, or hate yourself for liking him.
Your eyes narrow, a shy smile taking place, “why are you looking at me like that?”
Peter runs his hands up and down your thighs, he doesn’t know to say what he’s feeling, he doesn’t even know how he’s looking you in the eye right now.
“I just really like you,” his truth sends you curling in half, tucking against his chest. You drag out the ‘o’ in your words, “stop,” rubbing up and down your back he laughs, “it’s true. I really, really like you.”
You rub your nose into his chest, “what is up with you today? You’re acting weird.” You peek your head up and he gives you a faulty smile, “nothing, I was just thinking of you and how much I love talking to you and spending time with you.”
For whatever reason you feel an odd pull at your stomach, it wasn’t a good one. It sounds like he’s making up for something, you feel like you can’t trust him right now. You try moving backwards but he stops you, “don’t run from me, i’m doing feelings right now. You love when I do feelings.”
You shake your head, “you sound guilty for something.” Peter’s poker face stumbles, just for a second, but you see through him and know your gut feeling was right. “Oh god, what did you do? I swear to god if you fucked another girl in this-”
Peter sits up, causing you to slip down his lap. “No! Stop thinking everything with me is about sex! I like you, I spend time with you, I cuddle with you, I tell you about my day, I tell you about my problems, I’ve never once kicked you out after sex or told you that’s all I care about. I’ve given you more than I’ve ever given anyone else, I mean, I was made for this. I was made for us.”
His words, the last part, it all clicked and rang true. He was guilty, and he was making up for something, he read your story. You didn’t know what to do, or say, he read all your deepest thoughts, something that you held so close to your chest. The thing you made clear wasn’t for his eyes.
He wasn’t who you thought he was, he broke your trust, and for what? It’s not like he’s admitting anything new, he knows you love him and he’s avoiding that with a ten foot pole. The balance is uneven, he knows everything there is to know about you and you know nothing about him.
You shake your head slowly, disbelieving he’d read your secrets, especially after you told him not to. Tears pool in your eyes, blinking once and a tear falls down your cheek.
Peter’s hand reaches out, “hey, c’mon trouble, no reason to cry. I’m sorry if I didn’t… what’d you say?” You can barely get the word out, you feel like all the air has been knocked from your lungs.
“No.” It’s a whisper, it’s all you can get out, you can’t say anything else; you can’t even look at him.
“No?” Peter pulls at your waist, it’s like you’ve been brought back to life. You rip his hands away, scrambling backwards until you nearly fall off the bed. You feel sick when he has the audacity to look confused, while you’re staring at him in horror from the foot of the bed.
“Are you okay, trouble?”
You snap, “don’t!” You gasp for air, “don’t call me that.” Standing you back away from him, scared to turn your back in case he tries to block the door. Peter’s slow with his movements, raising his hands in surrender when he stands with you.
“Trouble, let me just-”
You take a step back when he takes a step forward, “don’t call me that, you don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything anymore, Parker.”
Peter’s shoulders drop, “hey, c’mon, don’t be like that with me.” He takes a small step forward, your back hits the wall, you see your backpack on the ground and pick it up, holding it in front of you for a buffer if he dares come closer.
“Curiosity kills the cat.”
Your back slides against the wall until you find his door. You know, he knows, you know, at that moment. It’s all over his face, but you don’t want to hear it, you don’t want to hear him, you can’t believe you’ve got enough adrenaline to look him in the eye.
Opening the door behind your back you speak before he can try to get you to stay, your knees feel like they’re trembling.
“And this is dead. I hope it was worth it.”
The second you stepped through the doorway he called out, “trou- fuck,” then shouted your name when you stumbled down the steps, your heart raced when he followed you down, terrified he’d trap you in until you folded.
“Okay, you’re pissed, and that’s fair! But if we could just-” he pauses, pushing the front door shut from above your head, you pull at the handle but he had too much force keeping you in. “- talk about this, and, and, and, if you could see it from my side maybe-”
You can’t listen to him, you need to leave, you can’t breathe, you feel like a caged animal. He’s too close, too loud, he’s holding you hostage. You feel hot, a primal urge to scream and protect yourself running rampant.
You tug at the door so hard his hand jumps, when he pushes in further, and talks louder you lose all focus and control.
Spinning to look in his face, tears and all you scream, catching the attention of everyone on the first floor.
“You’re scaring me!”
You gasp, you can’t breathe, it feels like you’re fighting for air. Peter’s pushed away from you, you’re not sure by who yet, but they tuck you under their arm and open the door. It’s bright, and it makes you squeeze your eyes shut, but you’re able to get a gulp of air.
“C’mon, I’ll take you home. You’re okay, I got you.”
Ethan. Of course it’s Ethan. It’s comforting, you can’t take another step, you collapse in his hold and sob. No words are needed, he holds you and pets your back while you cry. When you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore you pulled away with a sniffle and apologized for ruining his shirt.
“It’s a stupid shirt, wanna go home now?”
You nod and sniffle every so often until you get to your room and send Ethan away with another hug and a promise you’d be okay.
The second you get inside you hightail it to your desk, fishing for the story to shred it. You wanted no reminder of it, you never wanted to see or read it again. You never wanted anyone else to see or read it again.
You felt numb the second it was over, the only thing on your mind was crawling into bed and never leaving again. The thought of seeing Peter on campus made you sick, maybe tomorrow you’ll look into a semester abroad.
You thought you cried it all out, but there’s a new wave and it’s more ferocious than the last.
—-------------
If your roommate set you up for this, you’ll kill her.
‘you doin anything today?’
‘nope, why?’
‘forgot to take my keys, hoping you’ll be around to open the door for meeee.’
‘i’ll be waiting.’
And you did just that, it had been three days since you last saw or spoke to Peter and it was slowly getting easier. But when you see something of his, or something he gave you it sends a spike through your heart.
The knocking on your door filled the empty air, it’s been hours of silence. You lug yourself up and open the door, not even bothering to look before spinning back for your bed and dive bombing.
“Welcome back. And, before you ask me, yes, I want to die. Glad to catch you up.” You answered every question she would have in one go, you wanted to wallow in silence. Nuzzling in deeper to the sheets, you waited for a response. She didn’t give one. She must know you need alone time, maybe she’d make herself scarce for the night.
You groan when your phone dings, “I swear to fucking god, Ally, if this is him again I will actually change my number. ‘But what if he’s super sorry!’” you mimicked her words from earlier, “don’t care! He should’ve thought about that before he…”
Who the fuck did you just let in.
Because, Ally just sent a text saying she was sleeping at her boyfriend’s.
You fly up from your sheets, a sheepish Peter Parker rubbing at the back of his neck waved at you.
“Oh, that’s sick. You are so sick, get the fuck out of my room.”
He looks like shit, his clothes are wrinkled, he’s got bags under his eyes, his hair’s undone and greasy and he’s got a spreading bruise on his jawline. You have to swallow down your worry, it’s not your problem anymore.
“Trouble, can we please-”
“I told you not to call me that anymore.”
Peter sighs, he rubs at his eyes and looks tired. Clearing his throat, he starts again with your name, “can we please talk, please?” You shake your head and cross your arms, “no, I can’t trust you anymore. Everything you say could be a lie.”
“Stop. I did a shitty thing, I invaded your privacy and I fucked up. I know I did, I can eat that. I took every bit of trust you had in me, in us, and violated it. I know what I did and I knew how heartbroken you would be, and I own that. But you can’t act like this is who I am, or who I’ve always been.”
“Maybe not, or maybe it’s the person you are now.”
Peter shakes his head, “it’s not, you know it’s not. But, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” He shifted his weight against your dresser, “when you said I scared you.. I.. fuck, I don’t know. It killed me, like, drained me to nothing. I never, ever wanted to scare you.”
It makes you a little happy to know you made him feel just as bad, but that’s only because of his actions.
“You hurt your own feelings, Peter. I’m not sorry for shit, you terrified me and broke me in one go. You finally accomplished what you were scared of, you fucked this up.”
He feels hopeless, “so there’s nothing I can do to fix it, or save us?”
You shrug, “not really. You created a power imbalance, you know all my feelings about you, including the massive one you’re pretending doesn’t exist-”
Peter looks up, “what, that you love me? I’m not avoiding that, trouble, that’s all I’ve been thinking about, that’s why it’s so important I fix this.” He’d tell you he loves you too but he doesn’t want you to think it’s his easy way out, when he tells you, he wants you to believe it.
He shouldn’t have done it, and not that it matters, but you’ve been craving to know.
“Why did you read it?”
Peter sucks in a breath, “I didn’t plan on it, I came across it when I was looking for your vocab notes. And I knew I should’ve put it down but I read the prompt and remembered you told me I’d be hurt by it, and I couldn’t stop myself.”
You nod absentmindedly, “I’m not trying to excuse it, but recently it felt like you pulled away from me. And I wondered if it was something I was doing, and yeah, it was.”
Does he not understand anything? You pull at your blanket, “and you didn’t ask me? I would’ve been honest, not about the love part, but about feeling like you don’t want me around sometimes.”
“I know what I should’ve done, but it’s not what I did. And I have to own up to that.”
He hurt you. He hurt you and broke you in more ways than one and you don’t know how you can go back.
“It’s unfair, you know too much and I don’t know enough. It doesn’t work.”
Peter’s quick, “anything you want, I mean it. I’ll answer anything or do anything to keep you, keep us.”
There’s only one thing you can think of that could balance the scale, and he’d never go for it.
“I wanna meet your aunt.”
Peter shakes his head like he couldn’t hear you, “huh?” You nod your head, confident in your decision. If he wants it to go back to how it was, that’s what you needed in return. You needed him to take you home, meet his aunt and have you sleep in his childhood bedroom. He needed to make it clear, to the number one person in his life, how much you meant to him.
“I want to meet your aunt,” you paused between each word, making sure he knew exactly what you wanted, loud and clear. He chewed on his bottom lip, you tell he’s bouncing it around in his head.
“If you want to fix things, if you want everything to go back to normal, that’s what I want. I want you to take me home for a weekend to meet your aunt.”
Peter coughed, “a weekend, not a dinner or brunch?”
You grin, “we can do both of those things during a weekend visit.” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, “when do you want to do this?”
You play nonchalant, “oh, whenever. I’m free on the weekends, you have a frat to run and oh, I’m sure you have to tell May who I am first.”
“May knows who you are.”
Peter pushed away from your dresser and took a harsh inhale, “if you’re serious about this, we can go next weekend, I’ll call her and set it up.”
Too easy, you don’t trust it.
“Really, that easy, you’re agreeing just like that?”
“You set your price, and I’m paying. Unless there’s something cheaper?”
He has a whole lot to make up for, and that’s just the start. But that would speak a whole lot, it’s a giant step forward, one he couldn’t take back no matter what. If he lets you meet his aunt that means he might love you too.
You kiss your teeth, “I think a few days made you find out just how priceless I am.”
#peter parker blurb#peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#tasm peter x reader#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#frat!peter#my writing
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DJ MY LOVE!
May I request, from the cuddle prompts, of you feel so inspired:
- Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling
Or
- Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do
With Tech! Haven't asked for him in a while and I think we could all use some Tech fluff right about now.
(If you get a bunch of asks for the same Clone or just feel a pull towards another clone, feel free to change it. 😘)
A/N: REBEL MY LOVE! Thank you for this! I’ve never written Tech before, and I was a bit intimidated, so I hope I’ve done justice to our boy. Also, you get two prompts for the price of one 🩵
Pairing: Tech x Reader (GN; reader is shorter than Tech but not otherwise described, aside from having a rough morning and a tendency to keep things bottled up)
Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)
Wordcount: 789
Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, Star Wars swearing, adult language
Summary: You swear to the Maker, if ONE MORE THING goes wrong today, you’re going to lose your mind. Tech has an exceptional idea for how to help.
Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
“Dank farrik,” you muttered under your breath.
The kriffing durang fruit you’d planned on turning into muffins had gone off. It smelled like death itself, and you gagged as you tossed it into the trash compactor. With a sigh, you glanced at your chronometer and winced.
Late. Kark.
You snatched up your cup of caf as your brain raced to think of an alternative breakfast that you could pull together in a hurry before your scheduled holocomm. Not that Omega or the Batch really needed you to cook breakfast for them, but Benduday morning muffins had become something of a tradition, and you really, really didn’t want to see the matching disappointment in Omega and Wrecker’s eyes when you told them they would need to fend for themselves that day.
Maybe Shep has some extra—
“MOTHERKRIFFER!” you exclaimed, cutting off your own train of thought as the lid on your mug popped loose and you doused yourself in hot caf.
A quiet rustle sounded from the front of the Marauder as Tech slid out from beneath the control console and sat up to watch you, setting aside his hydrospanner. With supreme effort, you managed to keep your eye from twitching as you braced yourself for a well-deserved lecture on your language.
“Is everything all right?” he asked instead.
“Peachy,” you grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe off your shirt in disgust.
He rose quietly and approached. “I do not believe you.”
“What gave it away?” you snapped, flinging the towel into the sink with a frankly unnecessary level of force.
“You are upset. Given the relatively minor nature of the incident, I deduce that something else is bothering you. Do you wish to discuss it?”
“Not really.”
“Astonishing,” he said dryly.
“The kriff is that supposed to mean?” you demanded.
“Merely that I have observed that you often prefer not to discuss your struggles, though I hope none of us have ever made you feel as though you should not speak freely when something is troubling you.”
You blinked, too surprised to be offended at his earlier sarcasm. “You have?”
“Indeed.”
Well… shit.
“It’s nothing,” you lied. Tech made no response, but he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Fine. It’s a bunch of tiny somethings that have all piled up on top of each other, and nothing is going the way I had planned, and I’m hungry, damn it, and now I have to think of something to cook for breakfast, except I have no kriffing caf left to make my brain work, and I have no other fruit to make muffins, so Wrecker and Omega are going to give me the tooka eyes, and I have a stupid holocomm that I’m expecting at literally any minute, and I don’t even want to talk to them, but I feel like I have to, and I swear to the Maker, if ONE more thing goes wrong, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind!”
You grabbed the towel and began to scrub the sink furiously, desperate to focus on something other than the conversation that you very much didn’t want to have. After a few seconds, though, you felt a weight on your shoulder. You turned to see Tech’s hand resting there, and for a moment you were so shocked that you stopped scrubbing. He was not usually one to initiate physical contact, and you had always tried to respect his boundaries.
“Tech?” you asked uncertainly.
“I have observed that you often seem to find comfort in Wrecker and Omega's hugs when you are upset. As Wrecker and Omega are not currently present, I would like to offer my own.”
“Are you sure?” you inquired, dumbfounded. “Aren't you busy with the repairs from Omega’s last flight lesson?”
“It can wait,” he replied. “Unless you would prefer not—”
His sentence cut off abruptly as you crashed into him, burying your face against his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms closed around your shoulders, and he held your head in one hand. You slumped against him, turning your head so you could breathe.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
“You are welcome,” he replied, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rested your cheek against his chest. “I do not wish you to feel as though you must face all your struggles alone. Even the tiny ones.”
Just then, your comlink chimed with the dreaded holocomm.
“Do you wish to answer that?” he asked.
“Not really,” you admitted, “but I probably should.”
“May I propose an alternative course of action?”
“Propose away,” you replied.
“Remain with me, like this, and forget the holocomm,” he replied.
“You know what?” you asked. “That's an exceptional proposition. I accept.”
---
Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!
More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff
Taglist:
@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49
@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella
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@dangraccoon
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Larissa Weems Masterlist
Mommy…Master List
Approach at your own risk... smut = * extra smutty=**
Series
First Times Chapter Series Masterlist
April Fools (Sex Pollen) Part 1*
& Part 2*
Dreams, You Say? Part 1*
& Part 2**
Pomegranate Lips Ch 1: Morning Cup of Black & Blush
Ch 2: Take Me to Coffee First…
Ch 3: Under Against My Heel*
Ch 4: Tipping Point
Ch 5: Nights Spent Together*
Ch 6: Hope
Ch 7: Healing Takes Time
Ch 8: ~In the Works (;
Jealous, Are We? ~sub!larissa xdom!marilyn xdom!reader Part 1**,
Part 2**
Bend us, Break us ~sub!larissa xsub!morticia xdom!Reader Part 1,
Part 2*, Part 3*, Part 4**, & Cupid Struck Thrice
What the Body Wants Part 1**,
Part 2** & Part 3
One Shots
Only For You
Bite Me ~young!larissa xyoung!morticia*
Too Far?*
Use Me**
A Long Day ~Fanart &Headcanons
Louder ~sub!larissa**
Tears of Care
Sweet Corruption**
Even Though…
Senseless ~sub!larissa*
Let Me Take Care of You ~sub!larissa*
A Break from Work ~sub!larissa*
Try Me ~sub!larissa*
Pretty Red Lips ~young!sub!larissa xyoung!morticia
Relax, Angel ~sub!larissa*
Why Me?*
Desk Activities*
Asking for It*
Mind’s Betrayal ~young!sub!larissa xprofessor!reader*
Fuck Me Dirty ~sub!larissa**
Last Straw
Bad Chick*
Pencil Skirts &Mommy’s Desk*
No Where Near Finished ~sub!larissa*
Breath, My Love
Careful What You Wish For ~sub!larissa*
More than just Sex*
I Take Care of What’s Mine*
“I love MILFS” shirt…
Playful Chemistry*
Women in Power make My Knees Wobble ~Morissa xReader*
Even the Boss Needs a Break ~sub!larissa*
Takes One to Know One ~Larissa xLady Lesso**
Tipsy Nights*
Give it to Me*
Hello Darling ~Larissa Weems Fanart
Mirror Reflection*
Initialized Necklace ~gn!reader
My Kind of Crazy ~Young!Morissa feat. Professor!Reader*
Larissa Weems’ Sexuality
Some Fun… ~Morissa xReader*
Mere Thought of You**
Fabulous Night to Remember ~Alrissa xReader**
Wonderful Introductions ~AFAB!Genderfluid!Reader*
Drunk Courage
Finally Seen ~gn!Reader
On and On ~Sub!Larissa xFem g!p!Reader*
In Times of Need ~Sub!Larissa**
Dinner Party Deals*
Marking/Branding Kink with Larissa Weems*
Numb and Afraid ~Soft!Larissa
Convince Me, Darling
Bait Me**
Music Lover ~Larissa Weems Headcanons
Spicy Fantasies ~Larissa xMelissa xReader*
Breath Play Fetish with Larissa Weems*
Everybody Needs Somebody
We Want Who We Want ~Holiday Bingo**
The Way You Adore Me (Like No Other) ~Fem!BestFriend!Reader**
Platinum Goddess to the Rescue ~Fem!Student!Reader
Give Me What I Want ~Bratty!Bottom!Larissa
Put You in Your Place ~Dom!Larissa xFem Switch!Bratty!Reader*
You’re Too Good for Me ~Larissa Weems xBrienne of Tarth*
Give It To Me Over The Phone ~Morissa (Sub!Larissa Weems xDom!Daddy!Morticia Addams) xFem Dom!Mommy!Reader*
Under My Thumb ~Dark!Mommy!Larissa Weems xFem Student!Reader*
I Don’t Go Down Easy ~Sub!Mommy!Larissa Weems xFem Dom!Daddy!Reader*
My Good Little Sluts ~Sub!Larissa Weems xSub!Lady Lesso xFem Dom!Reader**
Melting ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Dominant!Mistress!Reader**
When the Heat is Mutual ~Alpha!Larissa Weems x Omega!Marilyn Thornhill xFem Beta!Younger!Student!Reader (A/B/O{Omegaverse} Au)
Utter Submission ~Sub!Larissa*
The Filth We Share… ~Daddy!Larissa*
Quivering at Your Touch ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Mommy!Younger(20s)!Assistant!Reader (feat. Morticia Addams)**
Strip Me of My Power ~Dom!Larissa Weems x Sub!Bratty!Lady Lesso**
Take Me Back to Shore ~Broken!Wifey!Larissa Weems xComforting!Wifey!Alcina Dimitrescu(AlrissaAU)
Oh and I take Requests, so hit me up with your ideas 😉 Requests & Prompt-List
#cissyenthusiast010155 masterlist#gwendoline christie#larissa weems#principal larissa weems#gwendoline christie character#gwendolineuniverse#gwendoline christie x reader#larissa weems smut#larissa weems x y/n#larissa x morticia#larissa weems x female reader#larissa x reader#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems fluff#larissa weems fanart#larissa weems fanfic#larissa weems x morticia addams#principal weems smut#weems x morticia#principal weems x reader#weems x reader#principal weems#principal weems fluff#wednesday weems#larissa x y/n#larissa x marilyn#larissa x morticia x reader#larissa x marilyn x reader#sub!larissa weems#sub!larissa weems smut
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( 💙 ) PROMPTS — request a driver + prompt from the following lists ( + idea extra, optional ) and i will write a small fic about it…
lewis + "am i your favorite?" "i like your dog a bit more than you, i won't lie."
ROSCOE AND VIVI ★ LH44
pairing: lewis hamilton x fem! dog mom! driver! reader
summary: You and Lewis fall in love during your dogs playdates.
word count: 681
notes: this was very sweet to write, just pure fluff about two dog parents in love. (readers dog name is vivi)
Lewis has never been a stranger, your lives connected by racing since you were young. Your karting careers took off at the same time, growing in different categories so then you’ll be reunited in Formula 1 in 2009, sharing the track once again. He had been there every step of the way, every win, every loss.
Lewis has never been a stranger, but he wasn't what you would call a close friend. You shared childhood and thousands of intertwined memories, but all of it led to nothing more than the acknowledgment of the other's presence, he was just a colleague.
Was.
Months ago, over the winter break, you and Lewis locked eyes in a park, he was walking Roscoe, and you were walking Vivi, your dog. You greeted the other and started talking, updating the other on your lives, those you had never got to meet properly. It felt so natural, sharing and laughing together. A friendship was born that afternoon and not just between you.
Now, during breaks, you usually hang out at each other's houses, always a play date for Roscoe and Vivi. You wish it was also a you-and-Lewis date.
Today is one of those days. It's summer, Roscoe and Vivi play while you watch from the sofa on the terrace, your legs resting on Lewis's lap, his hand on the top of them as you talk about everything and nothing at all.
Lewis is talking about his schedule for after summer break when Roscoe and Vivi catch your eye, they are snuggling, Vivi licks Roscoe’s face a bit. You smile.
“Darlin’, are you listening to me? Y/n?” Lewis calls and you turn to him, he’s frowning, but his eyes are stars.
"I think Roscoe is Vivi's favorite playdate," you tell him, looking at the dogs. "She doesn't like to snuggle that much."
“Oh man, are our dogs in love?” Lewis jokes.
“Maybe” you laugh it off.
“The cherry on top would be us being in love,” He says and you swear the world stops because you are holding your breath “I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that, I do find you attractive- Like, man, you are so beautiful but if you don’t want-”
And here's the thing, you do want, you want so much. These months of hanging out with him have felt like the stars led you home, crossing the toughest of oceans. You like him, so much there’s an agonizing pressure resting on your chest while he rambles. He likes you back.
“Lewis”
“-And now this may be so uncomfortable for you because I’m sure you hate it when this type of thing happens. I know. But-”
“Lewis shut up!” You yell for him as your hands find his face, cupping it “You’re overthinking, just breathe and say what you feel like. I’m not uncomfortable, trust me”
His eyes change and he lights up. “Oh god, you-” You nod and his mouth opens in surprise, he seems startled for a couple of seconds “I'm so sorry, give me a second, I’m trying to organize my thoughts”
“No need to be sorry… and I can help you, I think” you answer and take a deep breath “I like you too, so much”
“That’s- I- Fuck it. Can I kiss you?” He says cupping your face, gaining confidence.
“Of course, idiot”
And his lips meet yours. Everything changes, the universe and its stars watching two constellations unite, giving life to something new. Lewis doesn't let go of your face, you don't let go of his, afraid that this will fade away.
As you part, your temples connect, smiling as if you just won your world championships all over again.
He speaks first.
"So Roscoe is Vivi's favorite, but... am I your favorite?" A laugh escapes your lips at his question, you want to stay here forever.
"I like your dog a bit more than you, I won't lie"
"You will regret that," he says.
"How so, Hamilton?"
"Tickle attack!" He screams as he gets on top of you, drowning in your laugh.
Lewis has never been a stranger, but right now he was a new unknown, and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about it.
# “ ࣭⸰ ★ my writings !#lh44#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton 44#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton drabble#lewis hamilton blurb#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x y/n#lewis hamilton x you#sir lewis hamilton#roscoe hamilton#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 drivers#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 2023
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Do u think Bepo would make a good heating pad bc I do. Just lay on him...
How did you know I was taking screenshots of Bepo right now?? 😭
Thank you for this adorable prompt, I had to write a lil drabble:
Such a Softie
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader
Summary: Law is struggling to help you with your pain, until he has an idea. This is the coziest treatment you've ever received.
Ao3 Link
Word Count: 461
Rating/Warnings: SFW, GN!Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Established Relationship, Kissing, (barely), Soft Law, (Reader is described as having intense pain and nausea and requests a heating pad)
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
"Fuck," you groaned as pain radiated through you. Law was fussing over you, hovering as none of his treatments were alleviating the pain.
"I wish I could fix this for you," he apologized, smoothing the hair from your face while you grimaced. "Is there anything I can do for you right now?"
You had to take a few deep breaths before you could answer, struggling to pull any coherent thoughts from your foggy brain.
"Uh... heating pad," you choked out, starting to feel nauseous.
Law pressed his lips to your forehead before charging out of the room, leaving you to moan as you tried to find a position that would dampen some of the ache. When he returned empty handed, you tried not to sigh, covering your eyes from the dim light in the room.
"I couldn't find one, but I have an idea," he rasped, crouching beside the bed. "It's how I used to stay warm as a kid."
"Okay," you whispered, trusting him enough to stop forcing yourself to think.
"Come in, Bepo."
Your eyes cracked open to see the navigator tip toeing through the door. The sight of Bepo in his pajama pants with fur poking out from under his Uta t-shirt brought a smile to your lips, even as more pain pulled at you.
"We haven't done this in so long, captain–"
"Thank you, Bepo," Law interrupted, leaning over you as he moved the blankets behind you. "Is it alright if Bepo sleeps here tonight? He's incredibly warm."
"You're such a softie," you teased, snagging his fingers in yours before he could grumble at you. "Thank you, Law."
His lips quirked, clearly wanting to defend his reputation as a grump. He shook his head as he surrendered, giving you a gentle kiss before directing Bepo where to go.
Law's bed was large compared to the rest of the crew, but it was still a tight fit. Bepo's t-shirt had slid up, and you hummed as his warm fur pressed against your back as he curled around your aching body. You grinned to yourself when you noticed Law's tattooed hand curled around that furry stomach, as if snuggling with the fluffy mink was second nature.
"How are you feeling," the captain checked in from his side of the cozy bear.
"Much better, thank you. And thank you, Bepo," you sighed, cuddling into the comfort of your friend's warmth.
"Of course! We used to sleep together all the–"
"Goodnight," Law ordered, making you bite your lip to keep from laughing.
The pain never left completely, but the warmth and comfort that surrounded you was perfect. Soon you were drifting off to sleep, planning out the best ways to tease Law about his favorite cuddle buddy.
You'd never slept better.
#one piece drabble#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law#bepo#one piece fluff#one piece#x reader#gn reader#turtletaub responds#cw pain#anonymous#thank you for this! 😭😭#i need the snuggles so bad#turtletaub fics
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Fear Me || c.b. x reader
prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.
tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.
photo is not mine, found on Pinterest
a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3
*
It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.
The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.
“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.
He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”
With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.
“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”
Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.
*
Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.
“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”
“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.
“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.
Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.
There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.
“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”
His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.
“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.
“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.
“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”
“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”
“What? It’s true.”
“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.
*
“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”
You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.
“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”
“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.
“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.
“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.
The device goes off.
“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.
It’s silent.
The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”
You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.
The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”
Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.
“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”
“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.
“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.
Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.
The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.
“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.
“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.
“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.
“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“
“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.
You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”
“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.
It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.
“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.
After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.
“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.
“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.
“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”
Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.
“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”
“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.
“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.
The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.
“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.
“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”
At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.
“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”
“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.
#colby brock fanfic#colby brock imagine#colby brock x reader#colby brock#colby brock blurb#colby brock x you#sam and colby
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Yoohoo!! Love your work, darling!
May I request a Megumi X reader for 22, 33, and 34?
Smut is optional honestly, free wheel!
Angst would be there I suppose.
Cheating? As you wish.
Violence and darkness? All up to you, darling.
I hope you have fun writing!
ALL MAD AND POUTY — F. READER x FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Megumi might not be the best in expressing his feelings, so it's no wonder why when he saw you getting up close and personal with his best friend Yuji, he got all mad and pouty.
cw: angst, characters are aged up to 18+, cheating implied, hurt and blood briefly mentioned, fluff at the end — 2,1k words
PROMPTS:
22. You’ve got what you deserved.
33. It’s not what it looks like.
34. So, you cheated with my best friend?
a/n: thank you for the request! it gave me a chance to write for Megumi, so for me it's a win :3
"Why didn't you use your divine dogs?" you coughed, frustration evident in your voice as you pressed your hands onto the deep wound on your side, trying to stop the heavy bleeding. It was easily avoidable; you wouldn't have had to suffer the blow if your boyfriend had reacted as he usually did. But he looked at you from above, his eyes piercingly cold.
"I've decided they're unnecessary," he shrugged, unfazed by the crimson that was slowly soaking through your clothes. "Shoko will probably heal you, it doesn't look critical."
"Wow, that's great, thanks Megumi," muttering, you collected yourself from the ground and went straight to the car, so that Ijichi could drive you back to the high school and you could seek medical help. Fushiguro followed and in the back seat, you leaned against his shoulder, trying to find some comfort in the pain that pulsed through your nervous system, but he flinched the moment your head rested on his body.
"Can you sit up straight? I'm kinda tired."
"And I'm bleeding. What's the matter, Megu?"
"Well, you got what you deserved."
"What I deserv- what does that even mean, what I deserved?" you couldn't believe what you were hearing. One thing you were certain of – Megumi was angry and you had no idea why.
Two days had passed since Megumi had deliberately refused to help you on the battlefield. Your wounds were messy, but Shoko managed to treat them so well that you couldn't feel much more than subtle discomfort in your side, and to be honest, you were more consumed by thoughts of your partner's unusual behavior than anything else. Back in the car, he avoided any further conversation, turned his body to the window, sneering and paying you no mind for the entire ride, and you gave up trying to force the issue. When you arrived, he simply went his way, leaving you covered in blood, fortunately in the hands of Ijichi.
But his act had to have a reason, he wouldn't go all mad and pouty for nothing, and he certainly wouldn't endanger you for nothing. Well, you liked to think he wouldn't put you in danger even if you suddenly became his enemy, but things apparently changed.
"Megumi, may I?" you asked, knocking lightly on his door and pressing the handle, only to find that he locked the entrance. "Hey, Megu, we should talk."
"Do we have anything to talk about? I'm a little busy," his voice reached your ears from inside the room, a tone indifferent and cold, but you knew better than to believe it. There was a subtle undertone of hurt in both his voice and his demeanor, and the fact that you might have done something to hurt him sent you into a spiral of guilt and panic attacks. You spent two nights unable to sleep because of the raging thoughts in your head.
"Please talk to me, I need to know what happened. Hey, baby?" you tried, knocking again, this time softly, just to let him know that you're close and waiting. "Megumi, I won't leave before we talk. I'll stay here even if for the whole night."
Fushiguro groaned in annoyance. He really had no desire to look at you, listen to you or do anything with you. The fake, poisonous smiles you had been giving him for the last month made him sick of you, of Itadori, shit, he was even angry at Nobara, because who else would know everything if not her. Megumi felt stupid for not noticing it earlier, but when it hit him, it hit him hard.
That day, a month ago, he returned to school earlier than planned. His solo mission went smoother than expected and his mood was light and bright when he got out of Ijichi's car. He hoped to quickly reunite with his friends, who he always said annoyed him, but everyone knew it was his way of showing affection. He was also especially happy to reunite with you, his absolute best companion, a favorite person in the world, his love and his girlfriend. Quietly, as he always did, he approached Itadori's room, from where a mixture of soft laughter reached his ears. The doors were unlocked, slightly ajar, and he wanted to push them open, but then he heard your voice.
"We can't tell Fushiguro about this," you said cheerfully, your tone breathless and absolutely worn out, and he knew that sound. He heard it before, so he held his breath and peeked inside.
"He would feed me to his dogs if he knew," Itadori was just as exhausted, joyful as he held you in his arms, lying on the bed with you on top of him. Quickly, Megumi retreated and padded back to his own room, as if he hadn't seen anything, but the image stood clear and sharp in front of his eyes, every time he saw you after that. On the same day, you approached him with open arms, with so much something that he thought was love. He couldn't help but wonder what was it if not love?
His door swung open aggressively, almost making you trip, and when you looked up at him, you could see anger twisting his usually calm features. Your heart clenched at the sight of his furrowed brow, his narrow, dark eyes, and his tight jaw.
"Gumi, hey," you tried to reach for his hand, but he pulled back, letting you into his room but refusing to touch you. "Did I do something to hurt you?"
"I don't know, did you?" he snapped, kicking his doors shut with a loud thud.
"You tell me. Please, Megu, I don't understand what's gotten into you lately. Yuji told me that you avoid him as much as you avoid me, we're both confused, I-"
"Of course, Yuji cried to you about it. You seem close, huh?"
"We're friends?"
"Friends, sure," Megumi stood tall above you and you looked up at him with so much confusion, it angered him even more. Unable to control his emotions, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you against the nearest wall, slamming his other hand right next to your head. You winced, shocked to the core and genuinely frightened by the sudden burst of aggression. You knew, you hoped, that he wouldn't hurt you, but as you remembered your last mission together, you began to have doubts.
"Megu-"
"I saw you." he cut in. " A month ago, I saw you and Itadori in his room. Panting, you were lying on top of him, laughing that you could not tell me about it," Megumi scoffed, almost freezing you to death with his icy gaze and his equally cold tone. "Hah, Itadori was afraid that I would feed him to my dogs if I found out, and to be honest, I thought about it, but I don't want them to get sick."
"What? Christ, I would never..."
"You're always so bubbly and touchy with Itadori, and I get it, I'm not that warm and emotional, I guess, but if it's not me you want, then why bother, huh?" he growled, spitting words with rage as his fingers dug into the wall next to your head. “I couldn’t give you what you wanted, so you cheated with my best friend?”
“Megumi, it’s not what it looks like.”
"If it's not what it looks like, then what is it? How could you end up so out of breath, in my friend's bed, on top of him, huh?"
You were silent for a moment. All his words hurt you to the core, and you tried to replay the situation he's referring to. You remembered that day you were in Yuji's room, but were you that careless to draw a picture so suggestive?
"Why didn't you tell me earlier that you saw this? Why didn't you tell me anything?" you asked, exhaling deeply, angry at yourself for hurting the boy you loved so much. "I never wanted to hurt you, Megumi."
"I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, you know? I tried to find a reasonable explanation for what I saw and I watched your interactions with Yuji. It all seems pretty self-explanatory."
"It's really not like that."
"Fuck, I hate this," he groaned, stepping back and distancing himself from you in a few large steps. It hurt, it hurt him so much. You were his first love and Yuji was his first friend and yet the two of you, together, behind his back. He couldn't understand it, he hated it. "Why the hell are you lying? I saw you. I heard you."
"Megumi," you tried, but he didn't listen. Every time you wanted to grab him, to ground him, he just snapped your hands away, looked at you with so much pain that it felt like the sadness in his voice burned scars on your skin, seeped into your heart. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hug him and tell him it's okay, it's not like that, but he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't let you speak, he snapped at you harder and harder. His hands flew, his eyes tore you apart. You saw the glisten of tears in them, he was so hurt and you knew that if he started to cry, you'd lose it.
Forcibly, you took him by his clothes, then wrapped your hands around his middle and spun him around. Losing his balance, he grabbed your shoulders trying to stop the momentum, but you pulled him through the dance. Finally, his knees hit the edge of his bed and he collapsed with your weight on top of him.
"This is pretty much how I ended up on top of Yuji in his bed," you explained, loosening your grip around him. "But with less force and more joy. We were happy, we laughed and hugged. Yuji is strong, he lifted me up, turned some circles and lost his balance." A sigh left your lungs as you rolled off of his body and fell onto the bed next to him. "We were planning for your birthday. We know you hate that day because Gojo always does something so extra and embarrassing... we wanted to take you on a trip, just you, me, Yuji and Kugisaki. We planned movies, mini golf, lots of your favorite foods and also some general chill, away from Jujutsu high and Gojo-sensei. But Yuji insisted on doing something cheesy, like bringing you the biggest cake with our wishes hand-written on it, and making it dark and fancy, but with bursting sprinkles inside, so that when you cut into it, you'd automatically be covered in colorful confetti. Yeah, he thought you'd feed him to your dogs if you found out. This was all supposed to be a surprise for you, we already made some arrangements. Fuck, we knew you'd probably hate the idea of a party anyway, so we were desperate to keep it secret, and we planned most of it while you were away on missions."
"What are you talking about...? My birthday is-"
"In a month. It's already November, your birthday is in few weeks."
Megumi fell silent. The year flew by, he didn't even notice a change in the weather, he just lived through it somehow, and now it was almost December. Everything you said echoed in his head, somehow slowly making more and more sense. He was so focused on finding proof of your affair with Yuji that he had ignored every remark Nobara made about the upcoming party. And lately, you were making more calls, always stepping aside so he wouldn't hear you. A few times he saw you sneaking out with Yuji, who was smiling like an idiot. Megumi didn't even think of any other reason for all that.
"So that's it?"
"Yes, idiot. I love Yuji, he's like my brother. You are my boyfriend, you are my absolute favorite grumpy and pouty person in the whole universe. I wish you would have come to me sooner.”
"I hate surprises..." Fushiguro grumbled and covered his face with his hands, feeling stupid but also relieved. It was as if the heaviest weight had been lifted from his shoulders, his chest felt lighter than it had in weeks, and he began to laugh. "Damn, how I hate surprises."
"Well, that's good, because this one is definitely ruined," you muttered, getting up from the bed. "But now you're going to pretend like you don't know anything and you're going to take this confetti right in your face and thank for it, because I'm not going to ruin Yuji and Nobara's efforts with the fact that I had to tell you."
"Okay," he sat up as well and wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from walking away as he pressed his face to your stomach. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright, baby," you brushed through his hair with your fingers.
"And I'm sorry I let you get hurt."
"Well, I still love you, so I guess that's okay too."
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#megumi#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x reader#megumi imagines#megumi fushiguro imagines#fushiguro imagines#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#megumi angst#megumi fushiguro angst#fushiguro angst#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro fluff#fushiguro fluff#megumi x you#fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x you
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Hello!
Congratulations on getting 300 followers! Feel free to ignore this request if you'd like, but can you do prompt #7 with Jamil, Ace, and Trey?
7. Wearing a maid outfit during a culture fair
Thank you <3 And there is no way I am ignoring this one when you picked maybe the best possible line up for it.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, mild cringe, a bit... suggestive and light spoilers for the white rabbit event in Trey's part (i.e. Yuu references the event costumes) Check out the rest of the event requests here.
Jamil
"Welcome back master!" You cheerfully give the greeting Ortho had helped you practice and immediately wish for death as soon as you see just who the customer you gave it to is. Jamil stares at you, really stares at you, eyes shot wide cognitive thought completely evaporated from his brain.
"Do- have you-" He coughs, fighting off the urge to hide in his hood. "Have you been greeting everyone like that?"
"Um yes, Ortho said it was the appropriate way to greet customers at a maid cafe." Not that this was a maid cafe exactly, it was a booth handing out bottled water to attendees of the NRC culture fair the school nurse had insisted on setting up. You were supposed to be wearing a dorm uniform to really sell that school pride, but Ramshackle doesn't have one so you had jokingly offered to wear a maid outfit, something Ortho apparently decided was brilliant and convinced Vil to let you borrow one from the film club. You weren't sure why you agreed to this but hey, at least it was cute. Jamil certainly doesn't seem to disagree.
"Well you should stop, it's extremely undignified." That's what he says, but it's missing the usual edge his critiques usually have. If you didn't know any better, you would think that he's embarrassed, which gives you a brilliant idea.
"Maaaaaster," you make sure to whine out the title with a big pout as you move directly into his personal space keeping just enough distance between you two to be tempting, delighting in how his throat twitches at the title "I'm working really hard to make you happy y'know? It's really rude to say that's 'undignified.'" You stay like that for a brief moment, gears in Jamil's mind whirring so fast they might as well be letting off steam. Finally, the breath he's been trying to catch finally goes down taking him with it.
"JAMIL!" He huffs at your concern from his new home on the pavement in annoyance.
"Seriously, it's rude to tease."
Ace
"Oh come on what even is the point of this?" In today's episode of Night Raven Comedy, Ace is shouting in disappointment at his reflection in Yuu's bedroom mirror while they and Deuce stand hands folded in disappointment just behind him.
"Really I don't get why you are so surprised." Says Deuce. 'Wasn't this entire thing your idea?"
"What's that got to do with it?" He snaps, face softening slightly when he looks at you but returning to annoyance when Deuce starts to smirk at him. "Don't tell me you're actually excited about dressing like this?" Deuce shrugs.
"I mean don't get me wrong it is embarrassing, but honestly seeing you dressed up like this makes it worth it." The grin on Deuce's face is outright evil, and you silently sigh, searching around your room for Grim's ribbon. About a month ago, Crewel had announced that your class would need to put together a booth for the school culture fair and asked for suggestions. Someone had complained it would be useless to try and compete with the other classes without a gimmick and Ace, for some reason, had suggested maid outfits. You weren't sure what surprised you more, that suggestion or that everyone had agreed with it.
"Why did you suggest a maid cafe if you didn't want to dress up like a maid?" You ask, already annoyed and adding ibuprofen to your mental list of things to make sure to bring with you when the three of you are finally ready to leave. He mutters an answer and you sigh. "Speak up I can't hear you."
"Yeah Ace," laughs Deuce, dodging a pillow Ace throws at his head "why did you suggest it?"
"Because I wanted to see you dressed like one." He mutters, pouting while Deuce laughs before turning on you. "And don't act like you didn't go along with it! Why did you vote for it?"
"Because I wanted to see you in a maid outfit too."
Oh, judging by the judgment Deuce is passing on both of you and Ace's shock you said that out loud, didn't you...
Trey
Breathe in breathe out. Busy your hands by adjusting your glasses and fix your smile in place and take another deep breath before you speak and focus on the eyes.
"That's an interesting outfit you have on Prefect." Trey says, and you sigh in relief. Finally someone normal.
"Thanks! I was worried it would be a bit too much." Realistically speaking you know it is, seriously maid outfits are already cute enough, adding bunny ears, ribbons, and a frilly tail just makes it lethal. Cater almost made you late with how many pictures he insisted on taking before you managed to escape.
"Well I don't know about that, it's certainly extremely cute though." Trey crosses his arms and tries to avoid gripping his bicep too hard. The way you light up at his praise doesn't help. "Where did you get it if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh Deuce's mom gave it to me when we visited Clock Town." Your nod causes the bunny ears to bounce and someone takes in a sharp breath. "Riddle said it would be helpful if Deuce could wear his costume for your booth about the Queen of Hearts, but he didn't want to dress up alone so I volunteered to help."
"Is Deuce wearing a... similar costume?" It could be just you, but Trey sounds like he's feeling a bit sick.
"Well kind of? He isn't a maid bunny. But speaking of Deuce I should really get back! Wouldn't want Riddle to get angry." You are clearly waiting for him to say something, but Trey doesn't trust himself to speak. "Trey?" You reach up towards his forehead forcing him to get a really good look at the entire costume as you try checking his temperature and frown in distress. "Oh you're practically burning up, let me walk you to the hospital wing I don't think Riddle will mind if-"
"You should be a bit more careful." Trey catches your hand as you go to take it away from his forehead, keeping you close to him yellow eyes daring you to step in just a bit further. "You aren't from around here, but surely even you know how deep a rabbit hole can go, right Prefect?"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#jamil viper x reader#ace trappola x reader#trey clover x reader#300 followers celebration#yes i was listening to fukashigi no carte while writing this#trey does not dream of bunny yuu kohai#coming to theaters near you never
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The Things We Do For Love
Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Benedict and his wife ask for Anthony's help to conceive a child.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, MMF threesome, fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, no incest. Married couple, infertility, conception, childbirth. Angst & emotion.
Word Count: 5.5k
Authors Note: This is a fic request fill for @broooookiecrisp from this ask (in essence, Benedict and his wife turn to Anthony for help to conceive a child). Thank you to @colettebronte and @makaylan for their invaluable advice and betaing. This is very different to my usual threesomes. This is much more angsty and emotional, but there is a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy <3
“Don’t worry, darling,” he soothes as you tear up, “it will happen for us one day.”
Despite his words, you stare at the bloody rag and feel nothing but failure.
More than anything, you want to give him children. Perhaps not a brood to rival his prestigious family, but a few children would be nice—two, maybe three. And you, more than anything, want to be a mother. To nurture life, be surrounded by children's laughter, and bring wonderful, new humans into the world.
But six months into your marriage, despite frequent, wonderful, vigorous, and enjoyable attempts, every month, your courses have arrived like clockwork, and every time, you feel you are letting him down.
“Please don’t cry,” his sweet, comforting voice almost pained; his lips mashed into your temple as he gently rocks you. “I love you regardless of if we can ever have a family. I need you to know that,” his voice sincere, maybe a little desperate.
“I know that, Benedict; I love you too; I just….” you say between muted sobs, “…I just want to give you a family like yours.”
“Darling, for all we know, it is I who is at fault, not you. In fact, we would never know unless…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but his mien turns thoughtful.
“Unless what?” you prompt, lifting your head to look at him intently.
“Unless you attempt to get pregnant via another man,” he sighs, his face pinched.
“No!! No!!” bile rises in your throat at merely the idea of being with anyone but him. He is the only man you have ever known intimately, the only one you trust. “I can’t do this with anyone but you, Benedict,” you plead.
“And believe me, my darling, the thought of you with anyone else makes me nauseated, but this may be our only choice to find out. And perhaps actually have a baby we can raise as our own,” he points out.
He’s right, and you hate it. You would do anything to let him be the father he so obviously yearns to be. And if that means you have to lay with another man, for him, and only him, you will make yourself do it if that is what he wants. It will hurt your heart beyond belief, but you want him to be a father as much as you wish to be a mother. The problem is that the only man whose babies you want is the one asking you to take another man’s seed.
You draw your knees up on lean on them, sobbing bitterly. Benedict kisses your temple and hugs you as you cry it all out.
——
Benedict hovers nervously outside Anthony’s study at Bridgerton House, having no clue how to broach the topic he wants to discuss. But after weeks of consideration, it’s the only way forward he can see that doesn’t turn his stomach.
“Brother, will you be lurking all day or just for a half-hour?” comes the dry, bemused voice from behind the door.
Benedict stops pacing, closes his eyes briefly, and then, with a decisive nod, heads into the room.
“There is a sensitive matter I would like to discuss with you if you are amenable?” he begins, too nervous to sit in the seat Anthony gestures to. “I’ll stand if you don’t mind.”
“Whatever can it be? You seem quite the bag of nerves,” Anthony observes wryly, leaning back casually in his chair behind the desk.
“It’s regarding children,” Benedict begins slowly and carefully.
“Ah, right, family and intimate matters,” Anthony gets up and closes his office door. He stays standing as Benedict rocks on his feet, and Anthony looks at him expectantly.
There is nothing else but to dive in headfirst. Benedict steels himself for this tough ask and then begins.
“Despite our best efforts, my wife and I are… struggling to become pregnant,” he exhales.
“I am sorry to hear that, but I think a doctor may be a better confidante than myself,” Anthony argues, “should your wife need examining….”
“Well, that’s the thing; I’m not so certain she is at fault,” Benedict counters.
Anthony scoffs. “You are a Bridgerton. If there is one thing we are capable of, it’s progeny,” he laughs, pointing at the row of miniatures of their siblings.
“Well, maybe I am the exception that proves the rule,” Benedict replies quietly and seeing the pain written in the lines of his face, Anthony’s whole demeanour changes.
“I did not mean to make light of your challenges, brother,” Anthony states slowly, “merely that the balance of probability it is not your fault is quite high.”
“Well, there is only one way I can think of to confirm that suspicion,” Benedict answers, “and that is for another man to attempt to impregnate my wife.”
Anthony's shocked expression is a picture. “You wish for your wife to lay with another man?” the contempt in his voice unmaskable.
“Wish it?” Benedict scorns. “I wish anything but. It is the very definition of my nightmare, but… she deserves the world, and If I am at fault, I could never forgive myself if I do not explore all avenues to fulfil her dreams. To make her happy. If I cannot give her children, I will not begrudge her the happiness of motherhood she so desperately craves.”
Anthony is floored by the self-sacrifice his little brother will always make for those he loves.
“And this brings me to my proposal….” Benedict adds warily.
Anthony senses the nerves emanating in waves off him and clamps a reassuring hand onto his shoulder.
“What is it, brother?”
“Selfish as it may sound, I want any child I raise as my own to be a Bridgerton. And there is only one man I would allow to lay with my wife without my stomach turning…. and that dear brother,” he takes a deep breath and meets Anthony’s eye squarely, “is you.”
Anthony freezes and falls back into a nearby chair. Literally stunned.
“I.. “ he begins but can not find more words.
“I'm aware this is a huge ask,” Benedict rushes out, “but I can't think of another palatable solution to my wife's happiness, and, more than anything, I want to give her that. Happiness.”
Anthony can see the quiver in his brother's lip, and his heart breaks for him at this impossible impasse.
“Brother, I’m not sure I can do this,” Anthony wavers honestly, standing up again and beginning to pace.
“Please,” Benedict implores, “please at least consider it. I will sign any private sealed paperwork you wish, ensuring that should she become pregnant, the child has no rights to your title or estates….”
“It’s not that,” Anthony cuts in, frowning that would even be a consideration, “it’s just… Benedict, it’s your brother bedding your wife. This choice seems fraught with potential anguish.”
“It seems unlikely to me at least that two men in the same family would be similarly afflicted, coming as we do from a man capable of siring eight children. If you do not impregnate her, then maybe we will know it is not me at fault,” Benedict argues, appealing to Anthony's logical side that he knows will often win in an emotional moment.
Anthony stops pacing and instead shuffles a pile of perfectly neat paper, nerves manifesting in the need to keep himself busy in the motions of a pointless task. “Allow me to think on it.”
Benedict gives a short sharp nod and, with nothing else he can think to say, takes his leave.
——
His fingers trail gently over your stomach as you lay in post-coital bliss.
“Darling, I have an idea for our baby dilemma,” he offers softly, tracing his lips over your collarbone.
“Mmm, I'm all ears, husband,” you reply drowsily, your ankles twining with his, your fingers running into his thick, lush hair.
Tonight he took you somewhere truly primal, and it feels different. Like it's possible you are actually pregnant this time. That something so fundamental happened in your moment of pure blissful release that, indeed, life was created.
“There is one way to ensure we have a Bridgerton child,” he begins quietly, his warm breath dusting over your dewy skin. “And that is for you to lay with my brother, Anthony.”
The world stops. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears and a weird static buzz in every bone of your face. Like you have been struck by lightning.
No, No, NO, Benedict, your mind wails. Literally anyone but him, dear god.
Unbeknownst to your husband, there is only one man you had ever considered before you met him. And that is his older brother—Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. You harboured a flame for him upon your first visit to Aubrey Hall with your family when you were fifteen, and that really only abated a few years later when you met his wonderful, soulful younger brother who utterly stole your heart.
“Benedict…” you sigh, going to move away, but he holds you in place, staring deep into your eyes, running his hands over your jaw, your cheeks.
“Think about it, my love,” he cuts in. “He is someone I trust with my life. He will not attempt to blackmail us or steal you away from me,” he petitions. “And we look so alike, my brother and me; no one would bat an eyelid about the child’s appearance, should you conceive one. It is the perfect solution,” he looks at you so beseechingly that you almost feel like you are betraying him just by wanting to object. And so you can’t, you don't. You will never deny him the right to fatherhood he so obviously deserves. If that means playing with the fire of your attraction to his brother, you will do it.
You grab his hand and lace your fingers with his. “My love, if this is what you want. I consent,” you murmur as your insides riot at the idea of lying with his brother. “But I have conditions.” you swallow thickly.
“What are they? Anything, my love,” he says pleadingly. “I will do anything for you; you know that,” he asserts as he kisses a fervent line over your cheek to your lips.
“I cannot do this without you,” you answer meekly. “I need you there the whole time. Not just in the room, I need you with me, skin on skin; I need you to hold me when it is happening, to talk to me.”
He inhales sharply. “You wish to lay with both of us? At the same time?”
“Yes, Benedict, my love. I cannot give my body to another man unless you are right there with me. Please, please.”
“I… I….” he stumbles, “I will have to check with him, but if that is what you need, what you desire, I will, of course, be there, my love.”
“Will you fuck me too?” your use of the base, crude term somehow feels necessary in this context.
You see the vein in his neck jump, and his voice turns gravelly. “You want that?”
“Yes, husband. Once he has been with me, I want you to be with me too.” you push up and kiss him deeply, trying to transmit just how much you love him, that for you, how much all of this is for him, for his happiness.
“Alright, my love,” he appeases with delicate kisses, “of course, of course….”
——
When Benedict rises the following day, his valet hands him a hand-delivered note. It is from Bridgerton House, and inside the wax-sealed envelope, on Anthony's signature note paper, there, in neat-looking penmanship, is just one word.
Yes.
Benedict drops the card onto his desk and rubs his temples, uncertain if he should feel elated or empty.
——
The fateful night arrives sooner than you would like, but equally, the weight of anticipation felt like almost too much to bear in the lead-up. You fidget nervously with your silk robe, which all at once feels too heavy and not thick enough, your skin prickling with the uncertainty of what is to pass.
You stay in the bedroom, brushing your hair at your vanity with repetitive calming motions as Benedict greets Anthony and invites him into your home. In advance, you and Benedict had agreed a few strong brandies would likely assist both men before embarking on this journey; you declined to imbibe in the hope it would aid with conception. So you sit nervously awaiting as they partake downstairs in your drawing room, no doubt.
For some reason, you prefer not to see Anthony before the ‘act’ begins; it feels too much like danger knowing what will happen, the ghost of your past attraction like a potential unwanted spectre taunting you. It feels safer to keep your distance until, well, until you cannot.
You get onto the bed and attempt to read, but your butterflies mean you are staring at the same page for minutes at a time, words just a jumble of letters that bleed into each other, your mind too preoccupied. Just as you start to fret about whether you can do this, you hear voices and a pair of heavy boots ascending the stairs.
Then there in the doorway are your husband and his brother, looking at you with the same expression you give them. Nervous apprehension, but theirs mellowed by alcohol.
“Darling,” Benedict drawls as they walk in, and he closes the door, “how are you?”
“I am fine,” you assure with a quick, tight smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. The butterflies are truly rioting now.
Your gaze falls to Anthony, who flashes you a brusque smile before he peels off his jacket and rapidly moves onto his boots. It seems almost business-like, and there is a hot flare in your stomach. Benedict is already more casual, barefoot, just his white shirt and trousers; it's like he senses your spike of anxiety and is on the bed with you in the blink of an eye.
“It's okay, my darling,” he mollifies, pushing you gently down into the pillows, his breath sweetened by brandy and smoky from cigars, “I’m here, my love, I’m here.”
His kiss is gentle and pitched to reassure, his lips soft on yours, intuiting the need to settle your fears. It works, and as you always do, you find yourself melting into your husband's loving embrace and attention. His hands run delicate patterns over your thin robe.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, a soft smile on his lips as he moves to kiss down your throat, his lips warm and plush as his words vibrate over your skin. He goes to untie your robe, but you halt his hand, covering it with your own.
“Please, Benedict, I need you naked before I am,” you plead quietly.
He lifts his head and meets your imploring gaze, nodding slightly, understanding your reasons without you needing to vocalise them. It's part of why you love him so much, this shorthand you have developed, this unspoken bond. You can't help the little flutter in your chest as he whips off his shirt and settles over you, so much body warmth seeping through your robe from his skin. As he kisses the cord of your neck, you sigh and allow your hands to wander, loving the feel of his toned flesh under your fingertips.
With him over and surrounding you, he is your whole field of vision, perhaps by design to centre your focus on him. In the background, you can hear the sounds of Anthony disrobing, but Benedict utters soft, reassuring words against your skin to drown out the sound. His warm lips feathering down over your collarbone, skirting the edge of your robe. As ever, his tender treatment makes you stir, and you feel your body become pliant under him, allowing him to ease between your legs, your robe falling open as his wool trousers tickle the inside of your knees.
“My darling, you smell wonderful. Did you bathe in your favourite magnolia petal soap?” his voice buzzes over your breastbone as he breathes deeply and smiles indulgently as you hum in the affirmative. “Your skin is so soft; I am such a lucky man.” you know he is being extra vocal and reassuring with his words and actions; it makes your heart melt a fraction. He wants you comfortable and aroused. He wants this to be pleasant for you. You would never have the heart to tell him his efforts are not perhaps as needed as he believes.
You cannot look at Anthony to this day without a tiny stab of desire, perhaps remnants of a theoretical scenario where he could have been your intended, at least in your mind. Or it could be that he is an objectively handsome man. Either way, the thought of laying with him is not abhorrent on a physical level; in fact, the genuine possibility of the opposite stokes the blaze of nerves in your belly—that you could enjoy it a little too much.
You reach down and begin unbuttoning Benedict's trousers, wanting, needing more, as he continues languid kisses on your exposed skin. This time you do not object as his fingers insinuate between your bodies and tug at the ties holding your robe closed.
You inhale sharply as his naked body surges over yours as he kicks away his trousers. So much heat and warmth as your thighs cradle him. You can feel his rigid cock searing the apex of your thighs, and more than anything, you want him to push into your body.
As his lips close on your left nipple, you moan and cant up towards him; you sense something else happening in the room. You realise, without looking; you have an audience. Anthony’s gaze feels heavy on your skin; you know he is watching as his brother's tongue peaks out and lathes over your nipple, watches as he sucks the nub into his mouth, and you cry out. Somehow the audience makes this more hedonistic. You want to feel ashamed at the throbbing between your legs, yet…. you don't; you just feel a molten desire. The idea of being the sole focus of two of the most handsome men of the ton does not escape your mind.
Somehow you know without looking that Anthony has taken his cock in hand and is ogling your body, just as Benedict's hand slides between your legs and glides over your folds.
“Are you ready for us, my love?” he asks softly. Part of you wants to lie, to ask him to dive his face between your legs and suck your clit until you are writhing and panting, but you know tonight is not about pleasure; it's a means to an end. And besides, he would know it's unnecessary as soon as his fingers slide between your lips, which they now do, and he hisses at the pooled, slick viscous heat he finds within. “Oh, darling, you are more than ready, aren't you? You are positively weeping from your gorgeous little cunt.”
You moan again at his words, almost surprised he is willing to talk like this in front of his brother, but you suspect it’s because he knows how much it arouses you. And indeed, you hear a noise from Anthony as you writhe on Benedict's fingers, wishing more than anything for him to sink them into your body and massage that spot you love so very much that only his fingers can reach.
“Please, fuck me,” you exhale, and it's a dangerous elixir thrumming in your bloodstream when there is a duet of responding groans to your breathy plea.
“I will, darling, I will,” he promises with an aching urgency, propelling one of his fingers into you and you crying out his name.
His fingertip massages that spot as his mouth is on your other breast, and you don't hide your enjoyment of what is happening. In truth, perhaps you are more performative, your whispered pleas just a little louder for Anthony’s benefit, your body flexing a little more pronounced; you almost want him to desire your body as much as your husband does. Sometimes playing with fire is such a beguilingly hypnotic idea.
“Make her climax, brother; I have heard it can help with conception,” Anthony’s smooth voice rings out, and you gasp, whipping your head to look at him for the first time since clothing was shed.
There’s a stab of what almost feels like betrayal as your eyes fall on Viscount Anthony Bridgerton—naked and imposing, standing as he does next to the bed. Unlike his brother, his chest is covered in a thatch of dark hair; his build is thicker and more muscular than your slightly taller, lither husband. Perhaps predictably, given their shared genetics, he is physically appealing too. You can tell by the motion of his arm he is stroking himself, but you daren't allow your eyes to wander lower than his taunt, defined abdomen, almost scared to see what lies between his legs. And yet curiosity wins out as he mounts the bed on all-fours, you glance down the plane of his torso and glimpse his cock nestling in a patch of dark hair, just like Benedict's, but it looks different. You can't deny that. A shade thicker, perhaps, just like their bodies. That you are comparing your husband's cock to his brothers fills you with a self-disdain you don't want to contemplate, so you quickly cut your eyes away. It matters not the pleasure he can provide during the act; what matters is the outcome: his seed, the hope of progeny.
“Here, let me help,” Anthony offers casually. And your breathing accelerates rapidly as suddenly he is next to you and his lips close around your other nipple, still wet with your husband's saliva.
A long, low curse slips from your mouth unsolicited as you experience the blinding pleasure of both nipples being sucked simultaneously.
Something burns white hot, not just desire but also shame. Shame that you want this so much. That your whole axis is thrown off by the equally talented tongue of Anthony Bridgerton swirling and sucking your nipple. But then he himself did just say female pleasure is paramount to conception. Who are you to deny yourself this pleasure if it is a means to the ultimate end? Your selfish, licentious side greedily courting all the attention they are willing to offer.
Benedict's finger curls more insistently inside you as a thumb lands on your clit, rubbing in an unfamiliar but alluring motion. It is not your husband’s. It does not have the same softness; there's a rasping quality to Anthony’s more pen-calloused skin that snags perfectly on your sensitive bud. Having the mouths and fingers of two Bridgerton brothers teasing you is overwhelming, but part of you feels overridden with guilt that you are deriving such pleasure from them both.
“It's alright, my love,” Benedict assures, sensing your emotional quandary, and it’s the license you need. Allow yourself to indulge in the sensation enough to be carried away by the sheer wonder of it all.
Within moments, a potent tide rips through your being as you writhe, surrounded by their bodies. Benedict surges up and captures your lips in a passionate, consuming kiss as you clench so hard on his finger and holler his name so loudly into his mouth. You don't dare speak his brother's name, but something makes your hand grasp Anthony's hair as he gently laps your breast.
Benedict eases himself from between your legs and arranges his body against your left flank as you calm. On instinct, still fuzzy from your orgasm, you turn your head towards him, seeking his lips for more kisses, sighing as he obliges, your nostrils filled with the scent of your own arousal on his damp fingers that cradle your jaw as his lips open gently with yours. His cock is branding your hip as he pulls your left leg towards him, opening you up, and your heartbeat spikes as you feel Anthony climb over your right leg and shuffle between your thighs.
“Benedict,” you gasp over his lips. He knows. He knows you are at your most vulnerable, and he clutches your face tight, keeps your gaze locked on his, his mouth hovering over yours.
“Shhh, my love,” he soothes, “you are doing so wonderful; you are my whole world; I love you so much,” his searing words pour into your soul as you feel Anthony’s body over yours.
Benedict holds your face, his grip almost vice-like, not letting you look away, to his brother, as arms band around your hips, and Anthony heaves you onto his thighs, your pelvis now higher than your head.
“Don't stop talking,” you plead into your husband's mouth as you feel the tip of Anthony’s cock at your entrance.
“I love you; I can't wait to raise a family with you, my darling,” he entreats. The mix of desire and hurt on his face breaks your heart as you cry out with the force of Anthony’s cock ploughing into you. It feels so different in a way you can't explain and want to weep, but you can't do that to your husband, hurt him like that. So you keep staring into his hazy eyes, breathing his exhaled air and familiar scent as Anthony starts to move inside you.
It feels so wondrous, your walls clinging to his thick veiny cock as you bite your lip to trap the sounds you want to make. There is no denying how utterly incredible Anthony feels inside you. He almost immediately hits a harsh snapping rhythm, making slight panting noises with the exertion. Benedict shuts his eyes and swallows heavily, and you know it's to school his emotions, yet you can't help but steal a glance up at his brother while he does so. Anthony looks so handsome and majestic, an errant curl of hair bouncing on his forehead as he throws his whole body into the thrusts. His skin glows dewy in the candlelight. His eyes meet yours, and a flame there startles so much that you swivel your eyes back to your husband’s as they reopen. Guilt makes you utter his name, each syllable rising and falling with the motion of your body as Anthony fucks you so hard.
“It's alright if you enjoy this, my darling,” Benedict affirms sotto voce, and it's like whiplash to your heart how giving this man is, how much he is sacrificing so you can have a family together. You know it must be eating him alive on some level to see the pleasure his brother is giving you.
“I only want to come if it's with you,” you whisper harshly.
“But you need to come, my darling; it will improve the chance of a baby,” he assuages.
You feel Anthony’s fingers at your clit, and you seize Benedict’s face. “Then talk to me, my love. Talk like it’s just us, say all those debauched things that make me burn so hot for you, just you,” you implore desperately.
Benedict growls and surges his rigid cock against your hip, leaking onto your dewy skin as his warm lips capture your cheekbone.
“I want you, my wife,” he intones through clenched teeth. “Every day, I want to strip you down and take you so hard.”
“Yesssssss,” you hiss, writhing on Anthony's cock, who groans and grips your hip bone hard. “More, please, more.”
Anthony’s fingers are a frenzy on your clit now as you keen loudly, urging him on; you unwittingly squeeze his muscular forearm.
“I know what makes you come so hard; only me, only I can do that. You are my wife, mine. Say it,” Benedict orders, his tone as desperate as yours, spying the way you have latched onto his brother, needing reassurance.
“I'm yours, Benedict, always, forever,” you cry, and it turns into a scream as Anthony starts to spear you so hard you want to see stars.
“I love you, my darling wife. You are going to be such a wonderful mother; I know how much you want that. To be a mother. To have a baby,” he murmurs, placing his forehead onto yours, “that is why we are doing this, my darling.”
"But Benedict, I only want your baby… Our baby…" you lament, raw with emotion, as you battle the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Anthony's cock makes your eyes roll back in your head, and Benedict's words take you over a soft edge, your blood boiling in your veins for your husband and his brother. Your scream muffled into his jaw as your cunt flutters hard around Anthony.
“Fuckkkking hell, I'm going to come,” Anthony warns, and for the first time, you look away from Benedict, uncaring that he sees.
“Give it to me,” you growl at Anthony, “give me your seed Bridgerton; I love my husband more than life itself; give us our baby right now!”
Both men seem equally shocked and aroused by your voracious demand.
“Darling…” Benedict pants raggedly on your cheekbone, his leaking cock pressing rhythmically against you again as you wrap your arm possessively around his head, fingers tugging no doubt painfully on his hair as you stare Anthony down, urging him to come.
There is a long guttural noise as Anthony stills. You feel the warmth of his release bloom inside you as he slumps over your body. His head on your damp diaphragm, puffing hard breaths over your ticklish skin as he keeps jerking and pumping little aftershocks into you.
The act over; as much as Anthony is an attractive man, all you want, crave, need, and desire is your husband with every fibre of your being. Like a siren calling across an ocean, he is the only place you want to be wrecked.
“Benedict, now, please, please, I need you,” you turn to him and cry.
You rasp lightly as Anthony pulls out and slumps back breathlessly against the footboard of your bed as you almost drag your husband on top of you. You chant a litany of pleas as he fumbles to line up with your fluttering body. And your eyes well with emotion as he finally surges into you. The stretch of his cock is different but so familiar, mind-bending and heart-stopping.
Your mouths mash together in a frenzy, and you cling to Benedict, pleading with him for more and harder, uncaring of the audience you have. You think he won't last long, but you don't care—you crave his release more than your own. You just want to revel in the carnality of your husband’s body and of what you have just permitted to happen for each other, for love. You steal a glance at Anthony over Benedict’s shoulder, and the soft, understanding look he gives you fills you with unspoken gratitude that he agreed to do this, to help you in this amazing way.
Benedict is not gentle, and you are grateful for it, conveying all of his passion for you with firm hands grasping your flesh, destined to leave imprints, teeth grazing your neck, thrusting into you with no mercy. You were mistaken, though - he does last. Keeps pounding into your body over and over and over as you make needy noises with each movement, climbing higher again.
“Come for me, husband, please; I need to feel it,” you beg, clasping his bum encouragingly, kissing every inch of skin you can reach, dragging your nipples over his chest, greedily pursuing your satisfaction as well as his.
“Tell me you love me,” he demands, sweat dripping from his forehead onto yours, his eyes burning into yours.
“I love you; you know I love you,” your response is a reflex. And that is what causes the dam to break for him, his whole body jerking violently, hissing and groaning loud against your ear as he spills inside you, fingers flexing, nails leaving moon-shaped marks on your shoulders where his arms curl under around them. The visceral feel of him coming apart, his body smashing against your clit takes you over too. Eyes fluttering closed as your body clenches in waves around his spasming cock.
And as you lay there sharing ragged breaths, Anthony’s warm hand encircles your ankle, and your eyes meet again in a moment of connection that feels warm and profound; you hope beyond hope a baby was conceived tonight.
——
Nine months later.
The birth of your baby is the most harrowing but rewarding day of your life. As you hear the infant’s first cry, your whole world crumbles and is rebuilt around her. Your precious, precious gift.
Benedict’s embrace is so tight as you cradle new life in your arms, scarcely believing the truth. Then a tiny set of eyes blink open, and your heart soars to heights you never dreamed possible.
“Benedict,” you breathe, joyful tears flowing unabashed, “look… she has… she has your eyes,” your whisper tremulant.
There, unmistakable as anything, is his baby. Not Anthony’s, not just a Bridgerton baby. His. Benedict’s.
“I don't think she can be anyone’s but yours, my love,” you assure ardently.
His fervent kiss on your dewy brow is only made wetter by the gentle tears that roll down his cheek and onto your skin.
“I love you,” he whispers reverently, his large hand wrapping delicately around your swaddled baby. “I love our daughter. We are finally a family.”
Benedict & Anthony Taglists: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @queenofmean14
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— or, the one where mick prefers the dress off of you.
✤ requested as part of the lavender haze event!
✤ mick schumacher x fem reader, prompts used: “against the window, are you insane?” + "leave the heels on"
✤ warnings: lowecarse intended, smut, mdni!! semi-public sex, unprotected sex, piv, bit of sir kink ig? creampie, no aftercare, per usual, don't take this as an example and be smart about having sex y'all. 1.2k words
visit the lavender library
the moment mick saw you with the dress on, he wanted to take it off you. not in a bad, overly possessive way, although it did occur to him that if he was looking at you like that, some of the other guests in this wedding would too.
who in their right mind had thought of giving the bridesmaids such a deep cleavage? mick couldn’t even begin to guess. his brain was swarmed with other thoughts.
“what?” you ask, your hands already on their way to cover your breasts. “it’s not too much, is it?”
mick shrugs in return, shaking his head. “definitely not.”
“you’re a shit liar,” you retort, eyeing yourself in the full-body mirror one last time. “let’s go loverboy, I don’t want to make a late entrance.”
although usually annoyed by the nickname, mick doesn’t give it a second thought as he follows you out of the room, where he wishes he could stay for the rest of the day, filling it with your whines and soft moans.
••• ─────────
you finally notice mick’s discomfort during cocktail hour. the bride and the groom are somewhere in the venue taking pictures and you’re left behind with the rest of the guests to catch your breath, and leave your boyfriend breathless.
“what’s gotten into you?” you ask mick, taking the short glass of amber liquid out of his hand. his other palm is drawing circles against your hip bone, almost leaving a hole in the fabric that hugs your figure perfectly.
"what do you mean?" he asks, already extending arm to recover the drink. his mouth is dry, and his tongue feels like sandpaper.
you click your tongue, still keeping the glass away from him. "you're so tense, and while i don't hate it, you've been practically groping me all day. in front of everyone."
your boyfriend clears his throat and stares at you for the millionth time that evening. "it's the damn dress, y/n seriously, whose idea was it?"
you laugh, before noticing he's being serious. "seven other girls are wearing this dress, mick."
"i don't care about the other seven girls, they're not the ones giving me an issue."
you raise your eyebrows at him. he's actually acting like a horny teenager in the middle of one of your closest friend's wedding.
and you like it. it thrills you to know you have this effect on him, so you caress the back of his neck with your perfectly manicured nails, the color matches your dress perfectly.
"seriously y/n," mick is gritting his teeth and turning back to the bar, to hide the lower part of his body against the mahogany.
this time you laugh audibly, and to mick's mortification a few of the guests and the bartender turn their heads in your direction.
"come on loverboy, let me help you." you wink, making your way out of the bar.
your heels create an echo through the empty room. the old mansion in which the party is taking place has many unused spaces that you discovered yesterday with mick, so now you're putting them to use.
mick shuts the door behind him, and after the lock clicks, scarce seconds pass before his hands are all over you. you didn't even hear him move.
your world comes down to tongues and teeth, and his fingers pressing and grabbing against the skin the dress leaves exposed. your hand finds its way to his crotch, he's already so hard it must be painful to keep it in his pants.
"you're so hot," mick keeps repeating like a mantra, "you're driving me crazy."
you smile against his lips, fingers already working the belt of his trousers. "this is crazy."
you want mick, you always want mick. but the idea of doing having snuck out of the wedding just to fuck him while people might be looking for you has you wanting him in a way that's overwhelming. you have never done this before, with him or with anyone else.
the moment your dress comes off, you gasp. to be fair, you expected mick to work his way up your legs, moving the fine fabric to the side, not just have you naked in the middle of the room, with your bare ass against a leather cushion.
"leave the heels on," he commands, getting rid of his suit jacket. his pants are already halfway down his legs.
"yes sir," you're only half-mocking him, but you notice the way his eyes darken at what you just called him, and you know you've unlocked a new part of your boyfriend that will only bring more enjoyment to your life.
you spread your legs for him to settle in the middle, his erection already free, out of his boxers as he approaches you. but your throbbing anticipation is met with denial as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you to him, and away from the couch.
the long piece of furniture that is against the wall meets your hipbones painfully as mick makes you bend against it. but you don't have time to worry about the possible bruises, not when you're right in front of the window to the back garden with your breasts hanging in the air.
"against the window, are you insane?" you gasp, your hands pressing against both the glass and the cedar surface. you don't want to risk giving quite the spectacle to another guest or one of the staff.
mick's only response is to press your back down and pin one of your hands behind you. and it's like your brain shuts off, because this is so hot, and now you both are horny teenagers unafraid of consequences.
your moans echo around the room when mick finally stars fucking you. your hips hit the wood time and time again and your free hand is pressed against the glass with such force it might break, but you don't care. it's all about the way mick feels inside you and his grunts and groans in the back of your neck.
the hand in the middle of your back moves down to your clit, roughly pressing on it before moving his finger in circles. "fuck, you're so hot," he pants, like it's the only thing on his mind. "you feel so good."
you whine as an answer, legs buckling as you approach your orgasm. you don't even care about the window or the way the sun hits your frame, making it clearer for anyone who could be outside.
mick's hand has to let go of your pinned arm to cover your mouth as you hit your climax loudly. and he presses it down hard when he cums in you, almost cutting your airflow. you twitch in his arms, overly sensitive already against his non-stop movements.
you can feel his cum start sliding down your legs and you sigh, your stomach contracting in anticipation, you could go on and on.
"we have to go back," you speak with mick's palm still against your mouth. "the reception is starting soon."
and you have to clean yourselves up in the bathroom down the hall.
reluctantly, mick takes his dick out of you, still hard. he really can't get enough of you. he can't wait for you to be back at the hotel.
you turn around to kiss him, your bare chest pressing against his clothed one. "let's do this more often," you can't help but giggle, because you're still high on the thrill of the danger of getting caught.
"I'd do it all the time," mick kisses you back, hands squeezing your ass before finally deciding to get himself together.
or as together as he possibly can, knowing you're putting the damn dress back on.
─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for joining the event! i hope you've enjoyed this filth. let me know your thoughts!❞
#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher x reader#mick shumacher imagine#mick schumacher smut#f1 x y/n#f1 imagines#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smut#lavender haze; 1k event!#🏁 checkered flag; 1k!
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~ Loyalty ~
prompt: #59 “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face”
requested by @handyulset
summary: Y/N & Honda go to protect Ji-an after Jin-man’s request and only one of them gets out
pairing: Y/N x Jeong Jin-man
warnings: violence, blood, someone dies
word count: 2,534
a/n: I skipped the morgue scene just bc it was already hella long with just setting up the story. Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas
Master-List - Prompts
Y/N wasn’t actually sure how many years it had been since her and her brother had seen Jeong Jin-man but she wished she could’ve said it was under better circumstances. Y/N and Honda had heard stories about Bale along her life and even had the misfortune of working with him from time to time so they weren’t surprised when Jin-man spoke about everything that happened on their previous missions.
Y/N had hoped that Jin-mans visit meant he was here to finally settle with his family but then again that would be better circumstances. Now Y/N and Honda find themselves racing in Honda’s car to what was inevitable death most likely. Jin-man had called Honda panicked finding out Bale was back and with his family. He had pleaded with them to go protect his niece which didn’t need much convincing from either of them
Speeding through the streets they only hoped that they were in the clear when they got there. Jin-man informed them that Ji-an wouldn’t let anybody in if they didn’t answer her riddle, smart kid honestly. As they parked up and ran in, in synchronized silence they could hear movement further up the stairs and a small voice on the other side.
As they advanced up the stairs they could see a man peak into the room and duck out slowly, probably looking to see if Ji-an was alone. Then he opened the door again and started to advance towards Ji-an but before his whole body got through the door Honda lurched forward to grab his arm and pull him back hitting his face on the wall. As he did he dragged him back into the hallway closing the door to Ji-an.
As Honda landed an initial punch Y/N who has just under him on the stairs grabbed the mans right leg pulling him straight to the ground. As Y/N pulled him Honda took the time to put on his brass knuckles incase the guy proved more a fight than he looked. As the man hit the floor he scrambled back pulling a knife out of his holster and decided to go for his closest target which was Y/N. She dodged as much as much could but a step only gives you so much lean so she was caught on her cheek but it didn’t make much of an impact to her.
In one movement Honda kicked the guys extended arm throwing him against the wall again and making him drop the knife. As Y/N picked up the knife she followed the upwards movement hitting him with the butt of the knife which was followed by Honda football kicking him one more time knocking the man clean out. It was a good thing Honda closed the door so Ji-an didn’t see any of that. Before moving the man Honda slid into the room to type ‘Stable Tennis’ on his mobile to show Ji-an, the answer to her riddle.
After asking Ji-an to hide in her room Y/N and Honda had moments to decide what to do from here.
“I am not leaving you in here alone Honda that is suicide.” Y/N signed to him angrily. Her brother did always have a death wish when it came to protecting people.
“One of us needs to be first defense what if they wipe us out.” Honda signed back. He knew what had to happen but he thought he had a pretty good chance anyway. It was worth it to repay Jin-man, he promised he’d protect Ji-an. Y/N didn’t have long to argue because they heard people coming up the stairs and Honda took the time to shove Y/N into the room with Ji-an.
Y/N got down to Ji-ans height smiled and waved hoping to not make this more scary but Ji-an was just looking at the cut across Y/N’s cheek. Then the door squeaked open and Y/N put her fingers over her lips to motion Ji-an to be quiet. Y/N motioned Ji-an over to the corner of the room near the window and stood in front of her listening to the sounds.
Then it was a quick sequence of sounds and with every sound Y/N could feel little Ji-an behind her jump. First there was someone crashing through a door then it was silenced gunshots. In that moment Y/N turned around to cover Ji-an’s ears with her hands to cover the sounds of violence but there was no one there for Y/N. She heard the entire exchange having to picture what was happened as she was completely blind and couldn’t move or Ji-an would hear too.
“Who the hell is this bastard.” She heard come through the door. In this moment she started to look around and noticed the very limited options they had. Y/N tried to focus on the conversation but she heard more footsteps and no more punches which only meant one thing. Y/N looked out the window to the drop below and knew the only option she had.
“Can you hang on the other side of the window, down to the pipe?” Y/N wrote on her phone and Ji-an nodded enthusiastically or maybe it was adrenaline. She really was Jin-man’s niece. As Ji-an lowered herself Y/N pulled her knives out of her pocket and positioned herself out of view of the door slightly behind a bookcase, not enough to hide but enough that they wont notice initially.
Y/N waited until at least 1 person had walked completely through and she took a quick wide step into view and hit the first 2 people in her view with a knife in the eye for each dropping them instantly. She low dashed forward to grab the weapon that the first person dropped. As she picked up the axe the 3 people in the living room all turned from looking at Honda on the floor to her. One pulled a gun quickly and shot her in the left shoulder which she retaliated by throwing the newly acquired axe in their head putting them down.
As she adjusted her shoulder another one lunged forward to grab her, as her body got thrown into the living room right next to Honda she finally noticed his arm. While she was preoccupied with her brothers corpse someone landed a kick across her face sending her closer to the front door. Having to adjust quickly Y/N stood up and grabbed one of the umbrellas from the rack to her right. Not exactly a knife but what choice did she have. She lunged forward with the umbrella using it to knock the wind out of the closest guy to her. As his leant down reacting to the hit Y/N grabbed the back of his head and went forward with her knee colliding the two and knocking him out instantly.
She noticed that the other 2 men had gone through the room to Ji-an and she dashed forwards and she could only see one man in the room. Y/N dashed forward grabbing the man before he could notice and sending his head through the unopened window next to him. As he his head split open from the collision with the glass Y/N dragged his body back with so much force he hit his head on the wall on the other side knocking him out.
“JI-AN” Y/N screamed out the window as she could see the other man who had already reached the floor. Y/N flung herself over the window ledge and down the surfaces until she was an ok distance to jump down to the sofas. Just as she landed she heard the car collide with Ji-an and it made the man stop in his tracks. Y/N darted towards Ji-an and the man took the moment to dash in the other direction to avoid her. Luckily someone had already called the ambulance because by the time Y/N got to Ji-an she collapsed from the head wound she didn’t notice.
Luckily the hospital let Y/N sit beside Ji-an after her many protests, she was handling her injuries well and frankly with no guardian for Ji-an present the hospital felt bad for her. So that’s what Jin-man returned too. Ji-an was sleeping in the hospital bed covered in cuts and bruises and Y/N was across the couch with even more cuts and bruises. Y/N was on attack mode woke up just from the sound of the door but settled the moment she noticed it was Jin-man. She stood up and walked towards him motioning to go out into the hallway to let Ji-an sleep.
When she stepped into the light properly Jin-man could see all her injuries, well at least the ones on her face and arms. She had a full slash mark across her cheek and it looked like the bone close to her eye had been busted open. Her arms were covered in contact bruises and ever cuts from the shards of glass from the window. Jin-man struggled to contain the panicked look in his face.
“Are you hurt?” Y/N whispered. He couldn’t believe she was asking him in the moment.
“Are YOU hurt?” He returned the question because frankly it didn’t matter what happened to him.
“No.” She shook her head as she spoke almost dismissing his worry.
“Then why are there bruises all over your face.” He said softly but making sure to add a level of sarcasm. Y/N let out a small laugh in response and Jin-man’s face softened towards her as she looked back into the room towards Ji-an.
“She’s a lot like you y’know. Climbed out a window to survive,” Y/N let out a breathy laugh as she did she turned back to Jin-man who was looking at Ji-an and it was Y/N’s face that softened now, “Doctors said I’d be fine it just hurts like hell, had blood running out of my eye so it will stay red for a while.”
This comment made Jin-man turn back to Y/N and he properly noticed that the white of the right eye was completely red and the eye around completely yellow and purple bruised. He nodded at her comment and couldn’t settle the guilt, he’d gotten her injured and her brother killed.
“It’s not your fault Jin-man,” she spoke clearing the dead air. Maybe she could tell what he was thinking, he chuckled at that thought. If there was anyone to know what he was thinking it was her no matter how neutral his expression, “Honda would’ve done it all over again to protect that little girl, and so would I.”
Y/N reached up and put his hand on his cheek transferring her warmth to him and his shoulders relaxed for a brief moment.
“I’m going to get more sleep you’ll need to find the nurses and get the forms I can’t fill them out because I’m not family, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Y/N let her hand fall from his face and she walked back into the room. Jin-man just stood there for an extra second to take in the whole situation before he walked towards the nurses desk.
“Excuse me? I’m Jeong Ji-an’s uncle, I got told I needed to fill out some forms?” He said quietly. The nurses head from behind the desk shot up and she shot him a wide customer service smile even if it was 4 in the morning.
“Ah yes, it does need to be a parent if possible?” The nurse replied.
“Mmm, There was an accident both of her parents are gone. It’s just me actually.” As he spoke the words settled in. Bale had killed his brother, SIL, friend and he knew he’d also killed his mother he just couldn’t prove it. He noticed how the nurses face dropped in horror and she stuttered a reply.
“I’m so sorry sir your girlfriend mentioned an accident but didn’t know the details I’ll grab it now.” The nurse whisked away before Jin-man even understand her comment let alone even correct her. When she came back he decided to just fill it out in the waiting area since he needed the light. As he did he kept thinking about the situation over and over again.
As he slowly got further through the paperwork got to emergency contacts. He wrote down his contact information first and then stared at the piece of paper for a while where it said ‘Emergency Contact 2’ His mind wrestled with the thought for a while before he decided to add Y/N’s name as well. He submitted the papers back to the nurse and made his way out of the hospital towards the convenience store across the road.
When Jin-man finally returned Y/N was still awake but she was sat with her back in the corner her eyes fixated on the door like a security turret she was shrouded in complete darkness and her pistol concealed in a pocket with the silencer pointing with a clear shot of the door. Once Jin-man entered in the room Y/N let herself exit the darkness and the moonlight hit her perfectly. Jin-man nodded towards the door for the pair of them to leave Ji-an to sleep.
They walked in silence towards a table that had a clear view of Ji-ans door and they took seats either side and Jin-man pulled out the convenience store bag of food and Y/N chuckled noticing it was everything she normally picks out.
“So what do we do now?” Y/N sighs after taking a bite of food. Jin-man raised his head from the table to look at her and cocked his head to the side raising an eyebrow.
“We?” Was all he managed to save. She lost her brother and she was still willing to help him.
“Of course. Jin-man we have known each other for years. We help people in need and right now Ji-an needs everyone she can, poor little girl just lost her parents.” Y/N spoke so matter of factly in the moment it was throwing Jin-man off internally but he kept composure.
“Honda…” It seemed like he could only speak in one work sentences.
“Would do the same for you if it was me on the floor that day. We have been through hell and back before Jin-man, you think I care for you so little that I’d abandon you now?” Jin-man had never known loyalty like it, he had never known a person who was able to care so deeply in such a horrific world, with everything she had seen and done.
“First I need to go to Babylon, this stops now.” Jin-man hoped that if he said he’s stop hunting Bale then Babylon would call a ceasefire. Y/N nodded slowly. She started to slowly think about what Jin-man had mentioned to her and Honda a couple of days before. He knew her so well it was like he could see the cogs moving so he cocked an eyebrow at her urging her to speak her mind.
“You mentioned a website?”
And that’s how murthehelp began. Y/N took her and her brothers business online and her and Jin-man moved it out into the countryside along with Ji-an. Now to multitask raising a kid and running a shop for killers.
#jeong jin man#jeong jin man fanfic#jeong jin man x reader#jeong jin man x y/n#jeong jin man x you#jeong jin man imagine#a shop for killers#a shop for killers fanfic#a shop for killers imagine#lee dong wook#lee dong wook imagine#lee dong wook fanfic#lee dong wook x reader#lee dong wook x you#lee dong wook x y/n#lee dong wook fanfiction
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