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avatarkv · 10 months

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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (3)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader.(wc: 5211)

“You will make a good olo’eyktan.”

Jake snorted, downing the last dregs of amber liquid from his worn wooden glass. He shook his head in amusement as he put it down on his lap– It must be the alcohol speaking, he thought to himself. Tsu’tey had been speaking vaguely; roughly in between asking where his loyalty lies and if he was willing to stay for the people. To say Jake was confused was an understandment, and he wasn’t a brick of a wall to not feel that something was wrong.

“Don’t you mean would?” He asked, refilling his cup. “I would make a good olo’eyktan. A possibility.”

Tsu'tey's merely shook his head as he finished his beverage, letting a few drops of liquid trickle down his chin. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, gaze far into the crowd of young warriors celebrating themselves. The festivity had gathered everyone and his eyes darted constantly to his lover– the one who rightfully had this heart.

And that was something Jake had noticed about Tsu’tey tonight, he realized. Tsu'tey was never truly looking at him. Although he had only spoken to him on this particular night, his eyes never once met Jake’s; it seemed as though he was constantly searching for something else– someone.

Could it be Neytiri? His heart seized as the thought crossed his mind. He was selfish. Eywa knows just how impure his soul is; how cruel he is to love a promised woman.

“What is that human word you use when you have not been truthful?”

One of the things he became aware of as he continued to learn life in Pandora was that the Na’vi didn't recognize or understand the concept of lying; there wasn't even a word in their language for it. It was a revelation for him, that such an integral part of his motherland - dishonesty and deception - was nonexistent here. He feared he would be the one to taint their morals, to be the example to its definition.

Jake was a liar.

“You mean lie?”

Tsu’tey nodded. “I fear I have done such a thing.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes in thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to pry– not when his eyes seemed distant once more. He thought he looked at Neytiri, but standing beyond her was the figure his eyes desperately sought. Tsi’ewa looked like a vision in the firelight, her every gracefully swaying movement becoming alive in the mesmerizing glow of the large bonfire.

And she was just there– how could she sit there and laugh and look so beautiful?

Jake puts an awkward hand to his shoulders, attempting to comfort him with a pat. “Eywa will forgive you– whatever you did.”

But Tsu’tey only shook his head again. His steady hand made quick work of refilling his cup to the brim once more, as if he was trying to drown out the rising truth that was spiraling from his stomach. He paused for a moment before lifting it up to meet his lips, “No. She would have to ask for my forgiveness instead.”

“We must tell the people now.”

They continued to walk aimlessly, steps wide and quick. The night had seemingly stretched on for hours since the gathering had ended, and they were growing ever more irritable– both bodies awash with alcohol and both minds clouded with judgment. “Your thoughts are muddled, Tsu’tey. You’ve had a bit too much to drink.” She said in a dismissive tone, making it clear that she didn't want to discuss the topic further. Tsi’ewa was nothing but distant— tonight where Tsu’tey felt most painfully vulnerable.

“I can think just fine, Tsi’ewa.” He carefully takes her arm, steering her to face him. “We have to tell the people now.”

“And risk your place in the clan?” She quickly swats his hand away, her face twisted with a troubled expression. “I will not let you ruin your name.”

They finally stand still, exhausted— bodies glistening in sweat. Tsi’ewa frantically looked around, perhaps for something to hurl or something to tightly squeeze'; anything to relieve the knot that churned deeply inside her stomach. Letting out another lengthy sigh, she finally looks at Tsu’tey. “I am but a songstress, Tsu’tey! Someone who people wouldn’t care enough to give two glances.”

“And why do they matter?” He replied in the same tone, just as defeated as she was.

“Because I am nothing. I am unheard, I am not seen– but you. You are to become leader. The people need you, Tsu’tey.” She steps in closer, just enough to feel his warm breath fanning over her face. Her finger digs into his chest as she speaks, pressing harder with each word that spills from her mouth. “You have to choose.”

“I do not have to. It is you who I want.” He answers, almost casually– like he had lost a screw or two to trade such a title for something so miniscule. Tsi'ewa releases a frustrated sigh, her posture wilting in defeat.

“You are being stubborn!”

“And you think too low of yourself!”

Silence envelopes their heaving bodies once more. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I am unhappy with the union– it is against my will and most especially my heart. Do not make me choose the people.”

He finds promise in the crooks of her body, the warmth of her palms; a place of sanctity he wouldn’t mind kneeling to for hours. It was the kind of romance so tender, it would dissolve right on his tongue the moment he would consume it– he just knew he would love her for a very long time. Tsu’tey would let his title be damned if it meant having her for eternity.

“We will be miserable.” She whispers.

“Only if you push me away.” He answers.

Who knew Tsu’tey was quite the romantic? Well– people would’ve known if they had given him the chance to truly love. The day he died, Tsi’ewa knew her heart was buried along with his.

The flickering firelight created a somber ambience as Jake sat motionless, lost in thought. The dancing shadows casted by its light created an indescribable feeling of unease– an overwhelming weight of dread settling on his shoulders. His mind raced endlessly, thoughts clamouring in his head to be brought to the forefront.

The clan– the people. His family. Himself. Deafening, deafening sound.

Quartich was back and he had to think fast. Sure, they were far from where the old shack is, but it wouldn’t be long until they were eventually found. The thought strikes an indescribable fear, reeling him in and getting the best of him.

To say Jake was tired was an understatement.

Tired is a word used to describe how one feels after a busy day; one that promises a better tomorrow– a green light that lets you go ahead and continue once more. He fears this is more than just casual exhaustion, but something that threatens to bury him six feet under.

And then there was you; a particular voice desperate for a minute of his time. He hears your voice, even in mind. His stubborn eldest. You might as well be the reason for why his hair is turning white so early. He thought it was just a phase– he thought that every child would eventually grow out of their angsty-teenager stage. Heck, he went through one back on earth. Jake was once a little boy too, he’d know.

But as time stretched on, he realized that your actions had rooted from actual hurt and not just some juncture in life. When you said you hated him, you actually did. When you said he was being a shit father, he actually was. He made you feel that way.

Jake wonders when it happened– what had slipped through his fingers for everything to become so messy. He swears he hears you as much as you don’t think he isn’t listening.

You’d make a great olo’eykte. He knows it. Somewhere along that line frightens him– makes him terribly uneasy. He doesn’t mean to tell you otherwise, but in his eyes, you will always be his little girl; the same kid who cried to him once because everyone had been too mean. Jake would burn the whole world if he had to; shed blood if it meant your safety.

Being a clan leader meant exactly that. He knew you’d do everything to ensure everyone’s safety, even if it meant your life. Jake wasn’t ready for that– he wasn’t ready to hear that his little girl was capable enough to not need him.

He wished he’d rather made that clear instead of severing your already strained bond. The gulf between you two has grown too wide for him to bridge the gap, and it's slowly eating away at him.

There was just something so complicated between a father and a daughter’s relationship– a kind of complication that neither of you could tell what you really meant. He wishes he could understand you; take away the troubles that made you restless. Maybe then, your eyes wouldn’t feel so distant– maybe then, you wouldn’t look at him like he wasn’t your own dad.

He numbly reaches for the machine gun– its surface still emanating heat from its earlier use. He can feel its weight in his grasp, a firm reminder of the violence that had just transpired. He clenches it in his hands, his sweaty palms pressing against its hard surface in an almost comforting way.

“The children are fine and taken care of,” Neytiri gently announced as to not worry her already troubled mate. “Your mind is clouded, ma Jake, tell me about it. ”

“Just thinking,” Neytiri sat in front of him, allowing the silence to linger for a moment longer while she awaited his response. “That maybe Tsu’tey had been hinting at his relationship with Tsi’ewa for much longer than we thought.”

That wasn’t at all what her mate had expected him to say, thinking that he would likely talk about what had happened back at the old shack. The wrinkle between her eyes deepened as she questioned aloud, "Why is this being brought up now?"

Jake released a lengthy exhale as he released the empty shell from his gun, letting it amble towards the fire pit. “Maybe I could have done something to save him from dying a warrior’s death so soon.”

Neytiri straightened her leaning posture, clicking her tongue. “This isn’t about Tsu’tey, is it?” The way Jake's reaction was almost too subtle to notice only solidified her suspicions. His posture seemed to slightly change, his shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly as if he was attempting to contain the emotions running just beneath the surface. “It’s about y/n.”

“Always about that daughter of ours.” He attempted to make light of the situation, stifling a chuckle. This demeanor was a thin veil for the obvious elephant in the room and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make it known just yet. “Hard headed and snobby, just like Tsu’tey.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she got it from you instead?” Neytiri narrowed her eyes at him, mouth twisted in a slight scowl. When Jake only released a snort in reply, his gaze still fixated on the machine gun, she lightly swatted him on the nape of his neck with a hiss. “You are too hard on her– on everyone! Don’t you think that you’re being too harsh on them?”

Jake winces before replying, voice firm and just as loud. “I am only doing what I can to protect everyone.” He flails his arms around, trying to emphasize his words. “Everything that I do is for them. You think I enjoy being like this? Being the mean parent?”

“Then stop!”

Jake let his long fingers run through his hair, slightly tugging at the braids in exasperation. His eyes closed for a fleeting moment as he drew in a sharp breath, attempting to compose himself. “It’s not that easy, Neytiri. They had their knives right under our children’s necks– I’m only trying to keep this family alive and together.”

“By pushing everyone away? By telling your eldest that she isn’t enough? Listen to what you’re saying, Jake! You aren’t hearing yourself!” Neytiri presses a finger into his chest. “This isn’t about war– it wasn’t always about fighting. It’s about you and the children.”

Everyone falls silent, letting the weight of their words settle in the air. The only sound is that of the distant fire crackling, filling in the otherwise unbearable quiet. They took in each other’s heaving figures, eyes softening in mutual understanding.

“You’re scared you’re going to fail her like you think you did with Tsu’tey.” Neytiri whispers softly this time. Jake’s ears flatten in response– stiff shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Neytiri.”

“Oh please– you are never this rough with Kiri and Tuk. Y/n is your daughter too, so why does she have to be on the receiving end of such hard affection?” She lets out an agitated scoff, “You do not hear her, ma Jake. When she shouts, she does not call for Toruk Makto– ma’ite does not challenge the olo’eyktan. She yearns for just you, her father.”

And that was Neytiri for you; ever the wiser one. She always knew what to say. Jake looks at him with such tenderness– an admiration that was strikingly reminiscent of the first time he ever saw her.

“You fathers always do not know what to feel– what to say. So you tend to be less understanding, because in that way, less words are spoken. Silence is better than talking it out, yes? Ma’sempul was the same. Only when he died did I realize– but will you take it to your grave before you let her know that she is loved?”

A daughter is only a daughter once, not until you make her forget.

“Make her understand. Your intentions are fair, but your ways are ill— they are ill, Jake.” Neytiri's words stung like a slap in the face, she might as well strike him straight to the chest. It rendered him speechless, yet he knew something shifted— and for the better. “She is your daughter. Not Tsu’tey’s.”

His daughter.

“Am I a bad father, Neytiri?” His voice had cracked and she swore she could hear the faint breaking of his already fragile heart. The realization slowly seeped into the wrinkles of his weary face, accentuating the creases from fatherhood itself. He failed everyone and he knew it. He always thought his actions were justified– but it was the consequences that struck him the most: He didn’t know Neteyam’s favorite color, but he knew how odd he held his bow.

He didn’t know his children.

“No, just misguided.” Slowly, Neytiri cautiously wraps her arms around his rigid form. She can feel the warmth of his skin against her face as she nestles her head into the crook of his neck. She swears he could hear the rapid beat of his heart and it pounds in sync with hers– they were both lost and terribly exhausted. “I know earth did not allow you to be soft, but you’re not alone anymore. Put your burdens at ease, ma Jake.”

Jake returns her embrace, squeezing her body softly. He allows himself to bask in the moment of stillness, taking in the sweet smell of her hair and skin. With a shaky exhale, he attempts to savor the fleeting peace before it's gone. When did everything become so difficult?

After a while, Neytiri finally stands, feeling the exhaustion of all she has endured today seeping into every fibre of her body. “The children are staying over at Mo’at’s for tonight.”

She stands there, lingering for a moment before finally turning to leave. “Just talk to her, Jake.”

And there he was, alone with nothing but the warm glow of the flickering fire to accompany him once again.

Fruits. You love fruits, he thinks.

Perhaps you didn’t get the memo that everyone was staying over at your grandma’s for the night; perhaps you were waiting for him to come home too. He carefully sliced the yovo fruits, placing them a bit too delicately on the bark bowl.

Jake was undeniably nervous. His own teenage daughter made him nervous.

As he slowly trudged towards the hut, his toe lurched into one of the wicker chairs– a loud string of curses exploded from his lips as he clamped his eyes shut in frustration. Through gritted teeth, he peered down to the seat. immediately noticing its snapped leg which seemed to mock him for his carelessness. He exhaled deeply. crouching down to take a closer look.

Funny enough, it was yours– your name glaring right back at him.

If there was something that he learned best back on earth, it was to be handy— good with his hands. (well, considering the lack of legs, he had to make use of thereof.) He thought he had cracked the code back then; giving everyone gifts and crafting whatever they pleased. Jake failed to realize that it was not more toys the children wanted– it was him. Just him.

"Listen, I'm sorry," Jake visibly winces at his poor attempt at an apology. He takes a pause, deciding on the right words to say before continuing, “Let’s talk about it, kid– promise not to raise my voice." He waits for her response but only silence greets him in return. He releases a deep sigh and mumbles under his breath, “-- or maybe not. This is fine." He carefully slides in the bowl of freshly cut fruits under the flap of the hut after taking a few moments to rest against its wooden walls. He looks around, his eyes wandering everywhere, “You listening?” He waits again, “Your father– he was a good man. A very good man, in fact."

“Neytiri was promised to him and he was to become the olo’eyktan. I was only an outsider; barged in and made a mess of an already good clan.” he reminisced, “He had every right to view me as a threat– heck, he could’ve even greeted my approach with a spear right to the chest the moment I arrived. He didn’t. No one did.”

“I’m thankful for that. Everything I have now is because of him.” He looks back at the entrance, hoping for even a flicker of light being lit by you– he thought maybe you were also leaning against the wall that separates you both. “I was wrong. Your father was far more than enough, and of all people, I should have known that better– should have known better than to talk shit about him to his very daughter.”

He exhales a deep, heavy sigh for what feels like the hundredth time, his frustration evident as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Look, what I’m trying to say is. I miss you, sweetheart. I’m growing old– and while you aren’t getting any younger either, I want you to understand that when I shout, it means I want you to listen. When I push you to your limits, I only want you to do your best.”

He looked back at all the times where you and him argued– when he thought what he was doing was right. Jake wondered if he pushed you away everytime he raised his voice. He probably did.

“Well– raising my voice probably never worked because you always shouted back.” he says, shaking his head with a snort of laughter. No matter how loud either of them got, the other always managed to raise their voice even higher. “Time is fucking with me– you all are growing so fast. One second I’m snuggling with everyone in the same hammock and then all of a sudden I find myself making everyone a separate one because we’re all too big now.”

He grows quiet, a lump welling up in his throat that renders him speechless. “I’m not olo’eyktan– I’m no Toruk Makto. I’m just a father, baby. And I think that’s the most vulnerable I’ll ever be.”

“Never wanted any of you to fight. Never wanted to put everyone on the line for war–” Another breathy exhale, “I was scared. Fine, there it is, out in the open. My star failed me, sweet girl. I know how humans worked back there and they worked ruthlessly. We killed our own land– our own mothers.”

His stomach would lurch at the thought of it, an overwhelming pang of nausea stirring within him. Jake could barely survive back there– he truly was lucky to be chosen by Eywa. He could already be dead if not the past occurrences for all he knows.

“I wasn’t allowed to be gentle back then and I’m glad eywa is a lot more merciful here.” He looks up, staring at the starry sky. Earth had taken too much from him and ironically, it was also humans who kept ruining him here in Pandora too. Jake was always one step behind no matter how hard he tried. “But you got to give me a bit of recognition here, baby girl, I'm trying. I didn’t automatically become a father after having children. I think I’m forever learning. I still have a lot to go.”

“I did what I thought was right; I had to ensure that my family was safe, no matter the cost, and I didn’t even realize I put a damn war over everyone’s head. Sweetheart, I never wanted any of you to fight– I never wanted to put everyone on the line to battle. I would never wish for anyone to experience what I went through back on earth and funny enough, I brought it right to our doorstep.” And he felt his voice break as words tumbled out of his mouth in an incoherent pace, desperately trying to release all these emotions that had been clogging up his throat. He brought a hand roughly to his face in an effort to hold himself together, fingernails digging lightly into the delicate skin around his eyes. “I’m scared, babygirl.”

“Eywa was kind enough to give me children in the image of people I’ve already lost; Tsu’tey, Grace– hell, I even see Tommy on Lo’ak. That knucklehead is just too curious for his own good.” He didn’t know if it was a curse rather than a gift; every corner of his house was haunted and grief had made a home right on his very lungs.

He looks back at the flap of the hut and still no sign of you– even the bowl of fruits was left untouched. “Tough crowd.” He murmurs to himself before finally deciding to stand, his legs stiff from sitting still for too long. He awkwardly pats his thighs, shaking away the dust he collected. “Everyone is staying over at Mo’at’s. You can have the hut to yourself for the night.”

Space. Maybe you needed space. (And he was terribly wrong. Space was all that remained between you two.)

Jake starts to slowly walk away, yet somehow he feels like his troubles remain firmly on his shoulders. The guilt was there— all of it. He looks back one last time, praying. Eywa, give me one last chance. Let my daughter come running to me in an embrace and I’ll swallow my pride.

Nothing.

He felt his heart slowly breaking, the pieces of it slipping lower and lower down his stomach with every passing second. His mind was a mess; he could feel all his doubts and insecurities swirling about inside his body, each one vying for center stage. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father. I am no better than my own father.

Unbeknownst to him, you were never in the hut to begin with. It was sick– such a cruel joke for the words you’ve been desperate to hear to be left unheard.

“Give me strength, dear mother. Tell me what I’m doing is just.”

You were kneeling on the damp, mossy ground close to the roots of the tree of souls, your hands tightly gripping onto your queue. The thick foliage that surrounded you was awash with the lavender hue that emitted from the vine-like leaves, lending you warmth from the chill eclipse. Woodsprites floated nearby, swaying close as if to welcome your presence.

Inching closer, you stretch out your arm before allowing the tendrils of your braid to coil around the hanging threads. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself feel– taking in the presence of Eywa.

Your mind was clouded. Once a dark space turned into something light– too light, it was almost blinding. Everything was blurry, almost like a dream, but you knew it wasn’t; knew well where you stood and why you were here to begin with.

Slowly, a vision emerges - a woman standing just a few paces from you. She feels something in the air and her ears perk up, as if she is trying to figure out the space she’s in too. Her head turns from each corner, cautiously checking the blurry surroundings. After a few moments of searching for something visible to the eye, she turns and finally spots you. A sudden shock passes through her body, evident by the way her eyes widen in surprise. She stands there for what seems like eternity, you can almost see the gears starting to move and click within her mind.

“Oh, my sweet child–”

She reaches out to envelop you in an embrace, but you take a step back in response. Her arms remain open– still hopeful that you’d run to her like how a child would to her mom, but you were just there, staring incredulously.

“I don’t know who you are.”

This couldn’t be Eywa. You would’ve known.

You two stood still, eyes drawing over each other’s lines and curves, trying to etch it in memory– then it dawned to you– could this be your mother?

“I knew Tsu’tey had the stronger genes, I just didn’t expect him to take up most of the space in your face.” She lets out a breathy chuckle, “Come close, child, let me see you.”

And you shouldn’t. You haven’t seen this woman all your life nor did the people provide enough stories about her. She was nothing but the person who had birthed and given you life– that should’ve been enough for you to run straight towards her, but you stood there, gulping down a familiar grief.

It’s weird for mothers and daughters to just coexist like she had not brought you upon the world at all. Sure, you have her eyes and you might grow to have her exact physique, but the word ma’ite sounded distant on her tongue– cold and unloving. Her arms weren’t inviting.

This wasn’t your mother. Mothers are kind and warm, like Neytiri.

Your legs moved forward in a hesitant pace, as if you were being pushed against your will. You stood closer, enough to let her cup your face. She lets out a choked sob– or was it laughter? You couldn’t follow. She lets her thumb mindlessly brush against your soft cheeks, eyes filled with so much love, you feared it would be too heavy. That love was reserved for you and only you– for all the ages you’d grow to be.

But all energy is borrowed. She has been carrying this longing tenderness for years in the afterlife.

You had Tsu’tey’s eyes, his lips. She’d argue that the nose is debatable, but surely if you rip open your heart, you’d find your mother’s own. Sweet, sweet child, forced to grow up too quickly. Tsi’ewa was sure you’d be the kindest soul.

You ponder deeply– what kind of life would your mother have had if you had never been born at all? Would she still be here, with all her vitality and vigor, relishing in the gift of her youthful years? Would she perform to the children, singing them lullabies they drift off into a peaceful sleep? The thought causes you profound anguish– your mother was just like you; full of life and once was a little girl too.

You wish you knew her enough to let the grief prolong.

“Time has been unkind to you,” She said softly, her fingers tenderly sweeping the loose strands of hair away from your face.

“You are not my mother.”

“I know.” She replies. Tsi’ewa doesn’t take it to heart how harsh your responses have been– you were just her little girl, lost and terribly misguided. “For all we know, I’ve only been one to you right now, so just this once– let my words bear meaning.”

You chose to wait; giving her the opportunity to slowly get acquainted with you, taking in every little detail of your face - from the stars of moles to the creases around your eyes. You were patient with her, allowing her to digest all that made you who you are – beyond just looks. She was just a mourning mother that grieved her little girl.

“You do not have to stay.” She whispers and her words hit a little too close to home, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut and suppress a sob. “A boy would be Olo’eykte of the Omatikaya– but you, ma’ite, shall be mine.”

As the words slipped her mouth, you had finally granted her an embrace. You swear you had felt yourself turn smaller. Your head rests against her stomach, letting your ear listen for whatever you might hear. This is where you came from, you thought. Who knew a mother could bear a stranger? She clings to you with a desperate grip, preventing you from falling apart— as if it's her own way of trying to hold you together.

Just a bit more, Eywa. She begged. Give me a minute more to hold my girl.

I wish you’d give birth to me again, you cried, maybe then I’ll turn into something better.

You open your eyes, feeling beads of tears roll down your face. You mindlessly wipe them away, not truly grasping what had transpired or how the weight on your shoulders lightened. Woodsprites quickly flutter away once you regain consciousness. Your head shoots up, and a silent thank you escapes your lips as you bask in the warm glow of the light that touches your face.

Forgive me Eywa for leaving. Your ikran lets out a sharp shriek as you climb onto her back, taking steady steps up her body while gently caressing her back. The animal quiets down at your touch, eager to fly once more.

A heart is meant to be cupped by unscathed hands and if you cannot find palms big enough for yours, then you fear home is somewhere else.

finally posted a new chapter, how is everyone doing ! i honestly don't know what to feel about this part just yet, but i had to write through a writer's block so it might be ass. had to fight it or else i'd be stuck in a rut on god

very important ! i've decided not to take any more tags ;( i'm really sorry, but they take up most of my time and it bugs my posts because it only lets me tag to an extent? so if your name isn't mentioned, do know that i had to take out a few (or because your user didn't pop up when i tried) please turn on your notifications instead ;(

already proofread but please don't be hesitant to point out mistakes, i tend to be blind when it comes to editing teehee i listened to jacob and the stone by emile mosseri while writing this so you might want to do so too to set the mood !

love everyone so bad, thank you for being patient w me. smooch !

tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom

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crystalflygeo · 1 year

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Heat haze ft Morax + fem!bunny adeptus!reader

cw/tags: heat/mating cycles, marathon sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao), Morax has a dragon penis, pet names, fucked stupid, reader calls Morax "My Lord" and Morax calls her "my child", power play??

notes: Pure self-indulgent filth <3 I love the concept of heats in general and though on applying that to adepti, then I remembered it's bunny year so why not... apparently there is a bunny in chinese mythology called the "Jade Rabbit" who serves the Moon Goddess soooo. Anyway. Breeding kink goes brrrrrr.

“M-my lord... I’m sorry I’m ah-” You gulp and try to breathe through your mouth, fingers clenching and unclenching trying to regain some semblance of stability. “I’m not feeling very… well”

Shameful. Lord Morax came to see you, probably talk about important matters regarding this year’s crops and yet-

“Is this your first heat alone?”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn, on instinct you look up panicked as your long ears stiffen in shock but just as quickly you avert your gaze, unable to look at him in the face at the revelation, and to avoid staring at his regal visage, fearful of your own reactions if you were to do so.

Oh he knows. He knows. Of course he knows. As much as you tried to suppress it your scent is probably dripping with want, especially when your thoughts were spiraling out of control mere minutes ago. Being an adeptus in heat is hard enough, but as a Jade Rabbit… it was especially hard on you.

You blink heavily, dumbly, your brain can’t keep up with all the emotions right now. You feel lightheaded but still manage to force out an answer. “N-No… no, I’m… used to it.”

Morax tilts his head and the light catches on his majestic antlers making them glow, and you find it impossible not to look “Of course.” He nods, still keeping immaculate composure. “But haven’t you found a mate yet?”

A mate. Your rabbit ears droop. Ever since you vowed to serve Lord Morax you never had time for such things, with the on-going war and protecting the humans, even as a non-combatant adeptus your duties were many. Agricultural care and development, medical support, logistics… you never had it in you to find a mate. You were devoted to your contract, and, to Lord Morax himself.

“I’m… I haven’t found the r-right one yet…” You mumble, hugging yourself and rubbing at your arm nervously in an attempt to mimic something.

“Oh my child, I’m sorry.” Morax approaches you and tentatively cups your cheek, fingers barely caressing your jaw, the touch is fleeting yet electric.

His hand is warm.

You unconsciously lean into the touch.

And he smells so good, so good.

“I could assist you, if you would allow it.”

You immediately flinch back at the words.

“W-what?!”

Morax simply blinks at you and crosses his arms, putting some distance between you two again. “I apologize if my advances are unwelcome.”

“No my lord it’s n-not that.” You can’t help but stare at his strong biceps, blackened skin accented by fine gold linings…

You try to control your breathing and think! Rationally!!

But still, you’re curious. What would it be like? To feel your God’s scent, your God’s touch, your God’s co-

You quickly shake your head. No, no! That’s indecent, scandalous! You’re not worthy, that’s…

“It’s okay, my child.”

The warm touch is back, hands placed at your shoulders, grounding you, stabilizing you. A shiver runs down your spine yet it doesn’t freeze you on the spot, rather it feels…

Tender.

You stare up at him and this time hold your gaze. He’s handsome and his eyes are the purest brightest molten gold you've ever seen, the bright diamond pupils mesmerizing.

You whine and rub your thighs together on instinct.

“My Lord… p-please…”

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Ha-aahh… f-faster, please my Lord please- Ah-! Faster!”

You’re reduced to a babbling, moaning, drooling mess as you lay on golden silk sheets. Head down ass up, your arms have long since given up supporting you and your thighs tremble as Morax rams into your dripping wet pussy over and over and over again.

He lets out a low chuckle “So tight…” He whispers, voice deep and raspy with sex haze, the scent of your heat spurring him on and causing his own illuminated beast features to manifest, such as his powerful tail undulating behind him. “You’re practically dripping all over the place, and yet you take me so well…” his breath stutters with another snap of his hips and all you can do is moan loudly, mind foggy with need.

“Oh…” You gasp. “Oh.”

Without pause, he’s slamming into you repeatedly, pulling you down on his perfect thick cock and fucking fast methodical thrusts into you wet hole, aiming for a certain spot that has you seeing stars once he finds it.

“Ah! Ah… Ah!” Your voice barely registers through your own lust-hazed mind. Tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from the rapid buildup in your lower abdomen. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve already came, your juices coating your inner thighs and soiling the precious silken sheets. Not that he seems to mind. “O-Oh… Ohhhh. My Lord… M-Morax…”

You’re pretty sure your God has ruined you for anyone else. No mortal or immortal would ever be able to compare to his divine cock, deliciously thick and filling, the dragon shaft lined with small ridges that rub just right against your insides and so utterly big you swear you can feel a slight bump on your navel every time he bottoms out.

You keen and whine when his strong clawed hands pull at your hips. Seems like your legs are also giving up on you so he holds you in place instead. And you love it. His musky scent. His smooth deep voice. His unfaltering stamina.

The Prime of the Adepti. A strong and virile dragon.

And he chose to mate you.

Suddenly you feel him drape over your back, his larger frame practically caging you, pressing against you until his chest meets your sweaty back and you feel his ragged breath against your neck, scenting you and your heat pheromones before sharp fangs graze your tender skin.

You moan and your pussy clamps down on him. You are so close….

“You feel amazing.” He growls. “So good... s-so good for me.”

You buck your hips up to him, clumsily meeting his thrusts as your small fluffy tail twitches. “Nnngh!”

You feel him bite at your shoulder and the sharp jolt of pain is enough to send you spiraling into another climax, moaning high-pitched and gripping him tighter inside you even as he fucked into your slick warmth. Despite the orgasm he shows no signs of slowing down, so neither do you, as the unbearable heat continues to burn inside you, an itch you can’t quite scratch. His hands reach out for your skin, caressing your soft breasts and marveling at how beautifully they fit into his hands. He rubs circles into one of your nipples before pinching it lightly and is rewarded with another high keen and a spasm around his cock.

“P-Please… please… I need it. Please-” You pant, voice laced with desperation, your nails digging into the bedsheets.

“What do you want?” Morax asks, nosing at your neck and lapping at the reddened bite mark he branded into your skin. “Tell me what you need, little one.”

“Breed me!” You choke out “F-Fill me up Lord Morax, I need you to… fuck m-me full, pleasepleaseplease-”

And how could he deny such a sweet plea? Morax redoubles his efforts, panting with exertion and pushing harder, faster, deeper. Shrill little gasps escaping you as your mind goes blank from the pleasure.

“Hah- I’ll breed you properly… mhh… fill you up.” He pants, his pace getting sloppier, his tail trashing wildly, you feel him twitch inside you. “You’re all mine. Mine to take… to fuck, to own, to breed-”

Morax’s breath hitches and he lets out a choked groan, spilling his load inside you in thick creamy spurts as you keen and squirm under him, too fucked stupid for words. You coo happily as the heat under your skin finally abates and you feel full, so full of his seed.

His grip loosens as his hips gradually slow down, head hung low as he catches his breath, his cock occasionally twitching inside you until it eventually softens. He gently pulls out admiring the way your pussy clenches on him, the way your legs shake, weakly trying to lock him there, keep him inside you. The drag and pull of his thick cockhead over your sensitive insides making you keen and whimper from its abuse until your pliant body falls onto the sheets, whining pitifully when you feel his slick seed dribble out of your swollen pussy. You try to close your legs and weakly paw at your core.

No, no, no… it’s supposed to stay inside. Lord Morax’s precious cum-

You squeak as you feel something smooth and solid press against your pussy lips.

“Shhh my dear, shhh.” He coos at you, deep voice soothing your frazzled nerves. “This is just a little something to keep it in, to keep you full.” He pushes gently, working what you now realize was a cor lapis plug into your body. You made another whimpering noise as your lips parted for the toy he’d created for you. Red, puffy pussy folds spread open as they did for his cock, taking the tip before he worked the rest until it finally sunk in, lewdly resting against your opening, a glittering orange gemstone keeping you full. “There, nice and snug, do you like it?”

Your only answer is a little chirp, your eyes half-lidded as your body relaxes.

“Such a good little bunny. You were so good to me my child, so good.” You smile drowsily at the praise, cooing at him as his hand pets your hair and scratches your fuzzy ear. He kisses at your shoulder and starts softly massaging your aching limbs “You were beautiful. You did so well, you took me so perfectly…”

You lean into his touch, curling up to his body, both of you still damp with sweat and other fluids. Resting for now until another wave of neediness hits you.

You both knew your heat would last at least other 4 days…

You idly wonder if by the end of the week you would be honored with carrying his offspring.

#genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #adeptus reader #fun fact I was going to give reader an adeptus name “Spring Bringer” but then I kinda just went meh #tell me if you'd like more of this though #<3

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moonit3 · 7 months

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HIHIHIHI may i request yandere loser x avoidant/introvert reader or yandere asylum psychiatrist who everyone adores? fem or gn reader pls thx! <3

LOVE UR POSTS!! ෆ。

I went with the asylum physician, okay? i found the concept of it so appealing (o^^o) and you will soon find out why of it! thank for your kind words anons, it’s make me feel better whatever i read that you and my followers enjoy my work!

A HELPING HAND

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, unprofessional behvaior from a professional, wrong use of drugs, set in a mental asylum, gn! reader, mentioned depression, reader is tried unalive themselves before the main story but isn’t explicitly, manipulation, unwanted touches from the yandere.

➥ yandere! asylum physician x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: doctor kyle isn’t most friendly person around, but with you he is the best person you can count with

a/n: enjoy this one guys, probably it’s not my favorite one as i felt too struck to give it an end :( but i swear it’s good, okay? i tried.

➥ doctor kyle is an enigma to everyone at the asylum. none one knows much about the man who uses gloves all the time and holds his clipboard like it’s a part of him. he is a mysterious to everyone who has a connection to the asylum, yet there is a thing that everyone who pays more attention knows, he has a favorite patient.

➥ a young adult who arrived at the facility just a week ago after a failed attempt is the favorite subject patient of doctor kyle. you are his best and most interested person to ever exist, that’s why you have a lot of benefits that no other patient has.

➥ you can explore the gardens after eight pm (only if you are with him), eat sweetie and food that isn’t from the facility (all prepared by doctor himself!) and of course, stay around his office to spend more time with (but only if you sit on his lap). he is a good guy, even giving you remedies that help you getting better! isn’t he the sweetest guy? always taking care of you when nobody did.

➥ his fingers always holding your chin whatever he is inspecting your face for bruises (did you get in a lot of trouble with the other patients or are you just clumsy?). the way he looks at your eyes always feel so personal, doctor kyle is someone that you can count with. as long you don’t mind one his hand getting closer to your thigh, doctor kyle says he only does this to those he enjoy have around, so you must be quite special for him as he kisses you when the two of you are by yourself at his office.

➥ his lips are so soft, yet cold when he presses against your, not letting you go away til he is satisfied. it’s your way to pay me for taking care of you for so long, that what he always replied when you ask him why he kisses you. people consider doctor kyle as someone too far from doing friends or apathetic to others, but they are wrong. he is the most clingy person when you are alone with him, it’s almost overbearing feeling his cold hands over you body when you are sitting in his lap, unable to move away from him.

➥ however you don’t complain much about it, not saying a single word of his behavior to anyone as you feel guilty about it. doctor kyle is doing his best to help you with the greatest medicines and therapy, and you were planning to report him? that horrible and if you even tried it, who would believe it? doctor kyle is a remarkable member of the facility while you are a mere patient that often gets bruises, but don’t remember how. so you keep it to yourself, trying to avoid his touches when possible and he didn’t like that.

➥ seeing you refuse his affection and often raising your voice at him is enough to show that you aren’t ready for rehabilitation, to leave the asylum, to leave him. that’s why he assigned you to another place of the facility, a private one where the only people will be you and him, there none can help you getting away from his touches.

➥ a room with no windows to admire the garden nor colorful walls like the one you had before, now it’s just the blanket boring wall with cameras in each corner and all of them can give doctor kyle a great view of you, his favorite patient. it’s horrible to be watch by the cameras all the time (unless the bathroom, at least there is some decency) and it’s impossible to cover the cameras as they are too high up in the walls. most photos that he finds cute, kyle print and keep it safe inside an album of photos just of you.

➥ with him being the responsible to give you the correct medication, there will be times where you will get sleepy (despite the medication don’t have that side effect) and you will fall into his arms. and doctor kyle thinks you are quite adorable when you are hugging his body when you are sleeping. too precious, too fragile and too naive to think the world outside won’t hurt you when you leave this place. that’s why you won’t leave.

➥ doctor kyle told many lies to your parents, saying that you aren’t getting progress and you managed to lose your life during a terrible accident between another patient. mother and father were devastated, crying till there wasn’t nothing. they asked if would be okay to bring your body to be bury somewhere else, but he told about the policy of the asylum. every patient or doctor who dies in the asylum, shall be bury here. of course, it’s another lie of him, but who cares? your parents aren’t coming back here anyway.

➥ now it’s just you and him, forever.

@moonit3 writings

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winterrrnight · 1 month

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babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

navigation || join my taglist || requests

I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

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moechies · 2 months

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Itto with a really bad concept of consent? like he can't help but feel the need to stuff your cunt until he impregnates you </3 and his half one instincts just spur him onwards.... doesn't care if you're saying no, your pretty pussy is begging him 💕💕💕

tw dark content dubcon, inst, reader gives in

ugh yes i can see this </3 like he’s just so confused.. because as much as he’s a bimbo, he knows that wet cunnies = sex.. right? don’t make him feel dumb </3

“but.. your cunnies all wet imouto, what do you mean you don’t want it?”

“n-no! itto— i-its not because of that i- siblings don’t do this itto, please..! don’t!”

“don’t lie to me imouto.. i know that if you’re wet down here, then that means a man needs to take care of you.. and i’m the only man here.. i don’t want you to be in pain imouto!”

he easily pins your arm against the soft of your own bed disregarding your writhes and struggle. using his other hand, he guiltily pulls off the dainty pair of panties you had worn. he doesn’t understand why you’re attempting to push him off, or why you’re crying.. the big boy just wants what’s best for his little sister, so why is she making such a fuss!

“it’s okay, don’t cry imouto.. i heard it goes by really fast okay? i just don’t want you to be in pain..”

he tugs down the fabrics covering his achy cock, heavy dick making an appearance by springing up upon its release. its thick and swollen, and you can feel your breath begin to labor at the sight. his puffy tip creams with pre, uncontrollable spurts of pearlescent juice that continue to pump from it.

“it won’t hurt, just think about me, imouto.”

“please, itto-nii, d-don’t, i— i don’t need it, please-promise it doesn’t hurt..!”

“i know you don’t want to burden me, but i can’t help it.. i can’t watch my little sister in pain..”

your heart twists at the statement, but the guilt doesn’t last long before you feel his shaft press into your sticky hole. you squeal at the intrusion, arching further into the sheets when when he mindlessly presses further and further into your mere cunt.

“please, itto-nii..”

“i know.. does it still hurt? doesn’t anymore, right?”

“hic— n-no, doesn’t..”

you give up, giving into his antics, letting go of your front as your nii-chan undeniably fucks away at your pretty cunt.

“ahh— this feels good imouto.. does it feel good for you too.?”

you nod quickly into his chest, unable to get words out as your moans and whines take away your ability to.

“nii nii.. s’good.. please— love you, love you, love you—“

“i-i know. i told you, your big brothers always right, right?”

#ok this ending sucks because i can’t imagine what itto would said to that Ok #arataki itto #itto x reader #genshin itto #itto smut #genshin impact itto #itto x you #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin x reader #requests ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

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astrophileous · 8 months

Note

Derek becomes a girl dad and he teaches little bug to talk to his baby sister in bug's growing belly before he goes to sleep!!

I'd like to thank you for coming forward with this concept 'cause I'm going feRAL just thinking about it 🙏 I imagine Little Bug is around 3 here??? I kid you not I even googled about how a 3-year-old talks for this one 😭

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You had woken up the moment you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening.

After dinner, you had promptly retired to your bedroom to rest your aching feet and stiff back. Your words of protest fell on deaf ears as Derek insisted on taking care of the mess in the kitchen and dining room, while your son was all too eager to lend a helping hand towards his father. They conspired to kick you out of the kitchen before you could even reach the sink, claiming that The Morgan Boys had everything under control and that your help was not needed. You had clutched your chest in a feigned hurt when your son pointed that out.

You knew you must have dozed off after getting settled on the bed, somewhere in the middle of reading the 400-something pages of a romance novel that JJ had demanded you to read. The familiar pitter patter of tiny feet that your ears had caught was followed by much heavier footsteps. There was no mistaking the presence of your husband and son within the four walls of your bedroom, especially with the sound of their loud whispers as the two conversed among themseleves as if they were the only two people who held the secret of the universe.

"Mommy is sleeping, Little Bug," you heard Derek say. It took nearly every willpower you had to keep your eyes completely shut.

"Mommy sleepy?"

"Yeah, buddy. Mommy can't say goodnight because she's sleeping," Derek explained. "Would you like to say goodnight to your baby sister instead?"

You heard your son gasp. "Baby sister?"

"Yes, Little Bug. C'mere."

You felt the bed dip underneath your fingers before a familiar warmth that you recognized as Derek's pressed against your right thigh. Not five seconds later, you felt another weight--much lighter this time--settled against the left side of your body.

"Careful, buddy. Be gentle, 'aight?" Derek warned. "Here, place your hands right here."

Mere moments later, you felt small hands roaming the expanse of your 18-week bump. Even with your eyes closed, you could still imagine the adorable curiosity in your son's eyes as he inspected your belly, along with the way his eyebrows would crease in the same manner as his father did whenever he was lost in deep thought. The urge to see your toddler's expression alone almost compelled you to open your eyes, but you were curious to see where this whole ordeal would eventually lead to, so you forced them to stay shut as you attempted to control your breathing.

"That's your baby sister in there, Little Bug," Derek said. You could nearly hear the smile in his voice.

"Sister?" Your son rubbed his palms around your bump. "Baby Bug?"

Something churned in your chest at the nickname that your son had just given for your unborn daughter.

"What do you wanna say to her, buddy?"

"Um, is it hot here? I hope it's not hot. You can't sleep when it's hot."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

"Go on," Derek urged.

"I wait for you to get out. We play when you get out." You felt your son hugging your bump after that, before leaving a kiss on top of it through the clothes you were wearing. "I love you, Baby Bug. Sweet dreams."

You listened as your husband and son exited the room, leaving you once again alone in the solitude. When you opened your eyes, you realized that tears had begun to pool on your waterline, and they ran down your cheeks like a summer rain, orchestrated by the trainwreck that your hormons had become.

By the time Derek returned to your bedroom, you were a plight of shaking shoulders and ferocious sobs.

"Bug?" Derek's eyes and voice were laden with concern as he rushed over to your side. "Hey, hey. What's going on? Talk to me."

You collapsed into Derek's embrace, your tears forming a wet patch on his shoulder as you mumbled your answer incoherently to his shirt.

"What?" Derek pulled back just the tiniest bit to look at your face, his eyes still worried and his arms still caging you as he asked, "What did you say, Bug? I can't hear you."

"H-He--" sob, "--he called h-her--" sob, sob, "--B-Baby Bug..."

Derek frowned.

You proceeded to fall back into his arms.

"You're crying because our son called his sister Baby Bug?"

He felt you nod against his chest.

Derek smiled.

He had nothing to worry about.

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bingusbongu · 2 months

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LUCIFER OBEY ME WITH A TIMID READER RRBRGRGRGG

-🖋

A/N: an obey me request!!! I haven't been playing obey me in awhile, the last thing i tried was Nightbringer- but honestly, Lucifer TOOK MY BREATH AWAY WHEN HE CAME ON SCREEN so i can ABSOLUTELY. Kinda short:) lots of love<3

Remember, these are just headcanons, NOT CANON!!!!

Reader dialog is in pink, BUT they are gender neutral! Its just to tell who is talking! Mammon is orange, Solomon is Blue, and Lucifer is red!

《 Masterlist 》

《 Rules 》

TW: yelling/scolding, overworking, Harassment

Lucifer obey me x timid! Reader Hcs/slight imagines

• he found out in the worst way possible. You did something, lets say with Mammon or just doung something wrong. He snapped at you, expecting you to just say sorry, but nope! You stared up at him with big, watering eyes and nearly started crying while mumbling 'im sorry' over and over again

He didnt know what to do, he didnt expect you to cry of all things, he kinda just stood there in shock. It was Mammon who stepped up and patted your back, huffing at his older brother

" look what ya did! Humans are sensitive ya know that?! "

And Lucifer watched Mammon lead you away to go and cheer you up, most likely going to buy you something

• as the avatar of pride, he has no room for feeling sorry unless it's of his brothers. You were just a mere human. There was no reason to feel sorry for you. And he didn't understand why he did.

he observed you for a while in the household. How you spoke so quietly, how you apologized for every little thing that wasn't even your fault. How his brothers softened their tone when around you as to not scare you, even Satan!

He didn't understand, so he went to the one person who might actually know: Solomon (much to his displeasure). As another human, he may actually have an answer to why you act like this, it couldnt be normal.

When he asked Solomon, he laughed at him. But automatically stopped at Lucifers glare.

" Oh, you're actually serious - well, it's normal for a human to act like that. Scared, nervous, and flinching at every touch, some humans are like that, or they are like that due to their specific past or something that has happened to them. I mean, take a look in their shoes, imagine you're a human, living your life, and all of a sudden you're in hell. Not only that, you're living with the 7 deadly since and made to go to a school full of demons that could easily kill you. They are scared. They aren't used to this, and are afraid that the moment they look someone in the eyes wrong, they are dead."

Lucifer had to sit and process that information. Now that he thought about it, it made total sense.

You were small, fragile, weak, just a simple human in hell. He hated to say it, but Solomon seemed right for once. Its not like he hadnt noticed the way you tried to avoid him and stay close to one of his brothers when he was around. Maybe when he yelled at you, he caused you to fear him.

• he felt awful about it now that he understood the concept. So, he decided to atleast try and fix his relationship with you, for some reason, he didnt want you to fear him anymore.

When he entered the room and you were in there, he stopped himself from having his usual glare. And greeting you gently instead of just completely ignoring you. And occasionally, would hint you a tiny compliment or a small nod at you if you do something in particular.

• his brothers caught on very quickly. Instead of you clinging to their side when Lucifer was around, he seemed the need to not do so. And Lucifer was being polite to you, after he seemed like you were inferior to him!

One of the instances when they were caught gaurd was after an accident. Lucifer was NOT happy at his brothers for something they did, and was chewing their ears off. But, to their confusion, automatically stopped when the door opened and you came in. Instead, Lucifer cleared his throat and greeted you gently, asking you very sweetly if you can leave the room and give him and his brothers more time to discuss.

They were BAFFLED. since when did Lucifer start being so nice to you?? They tried to beg you not to leave, but once you did so, Lucifer continued scolding them, but with less volume.

• over time, Lucifer would notice that sometimes, youd flinch when he'd enter the room. But, instead of staying tense, you relaxed when you just noticed it was him, and for some reason, that made him feel, good.

Not only that, but you would actually talk to him now, without cowering away from him. It was nice to actually talk to you, without you whispering responses when he asked you questions.

• one time, it was late at night, and Lucifer was busy finishing his paperwork. After so long, he decided to take a break, he had his back scrunched for to long and he needed to stretch his legs. So, he left his office to go and take a walk around the mannor.

It was quiet, all the lights were shut off, but he could see perfectly. Everyone was asleep, after making sure to check some of his brothers rooms to make sure they were sleeping.

Though, when he walked passed your room, he realized that your light was still on. It was quite late, you shouldnt been awake, humans need rest after all.

He cracked your door open to see why you were still awake. He found you hunched over your desk with your desk lamp on. A book open and multiple notes scattered around. It looked as if you were, struggling.

He gently knocked the door and called your name. He watched you jump and look up in panick.

"O-oh! Lucifer! I... i uh..."

"What are you doing up this late? Humans need their rest more than we do"

He watched you hesitate, looking over at the papers on your desk and sigh loudly. His heart nearly cracked at your tired voice.

"Im getting behind in my classes, and im not understanding this demon homework and i dont want to bother Solomon.... im sorry"

God, it felt like all his pride left his body when he saw how guilty you looked. But the fact that you admitted it instead of covering it up like his brothers would.

You expected him to yell at you, but instead he pulled up a chair beside you.

"Here, let me help you"

To your suprise, he started teaching you the homework in a way you could understand. He was slow and gentle with you, instead of rushing you like your teachers were doing to you and making you stressed out. He actually... helped you. Not only that, but with his help, you got it done in an hour. And he herded you back into bed.

"next time, dont be afraid to ask for help"

• After that, Lucifer gained your full trust.

youd greet Luicfer happily and with a smile, no matter who you were around. And became more comfortable enough in his presence to talk to him! Sometimes he liked silence, but he also adored the fact you trusted him enough to talk to him without any fear

Occasionally, youd be invited into his office to just talk with him while listening to his records and possibly having tea, hust talking with eachother, and Lucifer actually enjoyed your company. Hed ask you about your grades, and was glad to hear you wete doing alot better with his help.

• if you were to make him something as a thank you, like going to buy him something or baking him something or making his favorite food, he is in disbelief.

• oh the things he would do to keep you save MY GOD

• you won over his pride filled heart

• wherever he goes, you are usually seen with him. Either just walking, going out, or occasionally at meetings. He liked it when you came along with him, that you felt safe enough to go places with him around.

• if anyone were to point it out, he will avoid the subject and change it. (you are his emotional support human, but he would NEVER admit that)

• though, if someone where to yell at you, or speak to you as if you are lower and should know your place, god he would be pissed. ESPECIALLY if they make you cry

He would destroy hell if it were to hurt you in any way shape or form. He would escort you away, but you BEST believe he is coming back and showing them what true hell feels like

• you are the only one he allows into his room uninvited. Infact, he perks up when its you, and lets you sit with him. Even in silence, its comforting

• he is ontop of making sure you are okay. The moment you seem more sad or timid then usual, he is stopping everything to make sure you are okay.

• HE IS SO SWEET TO YOU SUCH A GENTLEMAN UGGGGGGGGG.

• even if one of his brothers raises their voice around you, or say something mean he is there and glaring them down with the force of 1000 suns.

• when you are stressed out or afraid, he puts his hand on your back and makes you focus on him. Speaking softly and gentle to you, trying to sooth you into a calm state. Wiping your tears away with gentle hands

• them buying you a sweet treat:)

• GOD you have this man of pride WRAPPED around your finger

#lucifer obey me x reader #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me lucifer #x reader blog #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #x reader headcanons #headcanons #slight imagines #UGHHHH BARK BARK BARK #would #obey me zone

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dangermousie · 5 months

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2023 End of Year Post - kdrama edition

Yes, we have a some of December left, and I want to check out Death's Game but whatever. I got time for this now and not sure if I will have later so here goes.

This is only going to cover kdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it’s not on the list. This was an excellent kdrama year, the likes of which we hadn't had in a long time.

DRAMAS WATCHED

In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality so pls don't come for me, fans of some popular dramas that are on my nope list. Also, I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list.

33. The Escape of the Seven - this is so aggressively stupid and mean that it feels like the makers are playing a practical joke seeing how much their audience will take. This has a season 2 coming, so the answer is a lot.

32. Behind Your Touch - the FL gets superpowers by touching people's and animals' butts. Yes, you read this right. Do I really need to add anything?

31. King the Land - yes, it was a hit. Yes, it stars popular actors. I HATED IT LIKE IT TOUCHED MY BUTT TO GET SUPERPOWERS!!! Plastic people in paint by the numbers story, with about as much genuineness or retability as a barbie aisle in walmart. I never expect much from Yoona so whatever, but to have LJH go from The Red Sleeve to this boggles the mind.

30. Mrs Durian - this is so dumb that I think I lost a few IQ points watching this, but its insanity becomes entertaining - I mean what kdrama can you name where a daughter in law declares her love and lust for her mother in law at a family dinner?

29. The Matchmakers - there is nothing offensive about this drama at all. But there is nothing in the least interesting either. If elevator music took drama shape, it would be this show.

28. Destined with You - sorry, Rowoon, I am still fond of you, but you are two for two in drama duds department this year. This is a drama where I loved ep 1, liked ep 2, was indifferent to 3 and...you get the point. Each ep was worse than the one before, and I bailed before I was dragged into a cosmic singularity.

27. Oasis - great first two episodes. Unfortunately it was not a two ep show. The performances are solid but the story is just not there - the effect is like a fancy chef making an amazing sauce to put on pig slop.

26. Boyhood - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like it but a 34-year old playing a high schooler in a Weak Hero Class 1 Slapstick Edition is no go for me.

25. Castaway Diva - it's so precious and kooky in the most annoying ways, with the most well-adjusted abused castaway in history. I like magic realism when done by Jorge Amado, but this ain't Amado.

24. Island - it had a good concept, good cast and fun visuals but the execution deserved one of ML's swords through the neck.

23. The Worst of Evil - if I wanted an American show, I'd watch one. Very solid performances though.

22. Song of the Bandits - period edition of what I said about The Worst of Evil.

21. Welcome to Samdalri - and goodbye to any hope of emotional involvement.

20. Joseon Attorney - I have yet to like a single sageuk centered around a profession and this was not an exception. I guess it could be worse but it also could have been so much better.

19. Twinkling Watermelon - everyone loved this drama. Everyone except for me. It's the kind of precious that sets my teeth on edge and I couldn't stand half the main characters we were supposed to root for. I guess I like my fruits to shine steadily.

18. Our Blooming Youth - probably the biggest disappointment on this list. This is not a bad drama by any means, but with that cast and that story (I loved the novel), I was hoping for a memorable sageuk not merely all right.

17. Vigilante - it has the emotional complexity and nuance of a punch to the throat but it gives us quasi-gay openly-murderous dudes going after psychos and Yoo Ji Tae holding feral Nam Joo Hyuk by his hoodie at his feet.

16. The Forbidden Marriage - expected nothing but it was a surprisingly enjoyable trifle of a costume drama that was also quite pretty.

15. Arthdal Chronicles: Sword of Aramun - a hot mess but such an entertaining epic one. And it gave us TWO Lee Jun Kis in period gear and who am I to cavil at the bounty of God?

14. The Story of Park's Marriage - it's a trifle, a souffle, so light it might blow away, but it keeps my attention and is so fun and sweet.

13. My Lovely Liar - a huge surprise, that manages to mix a murder mystery and a romcom, and shocked me by showing Hwang Minhyun can act.

12. Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - the original ToNT was my fave drama of its year and I did not think it needed a sequel. But this is not a sequel but more of a side-quel and is such a total delight with brotherly love, adventures, romance and hijinks. It's a joy.

11. Perfect Marriage Revenge - it's actually very hard to do a soap right but this slim 12 ep drama managed. So fun, so crazy, such a good ship!

10. My Lovely Boxer - not really about sports, but about two broken people finding salvation because of and in each other. Also, if you like age gap romances, this is delicious. Sort of loses steam by the end but c’est la vie.

9. The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - this was a sageuk that was not on my radar with a bunch of actors I was not familiar with but it took my heart away. A good plot that was perfectly paced, characters and ships I adored, a logical ending. This is one of the biggest positive surprises of the year for me.

8. Tell Me That You Love Me - a slice of life remake (sort of, it's more "inspired by") of my favorite jdrama of all time. It's not as good as the jdrama because nothing could be, but it's an aching lovely story with some incredible performances.

7. See You In My 19th Life - funny and romantic and haunting and hopeful and odd. This was one of my favorites of the year.

6. Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow - it's rare for me to like a (1) sequel (2) with FL actress change (3) that is a Hong Sisters drama. But this was such a gorgeous, surprisingly achy story of love and loss and love regained with some cool monster fighting in the middle. Between the two seasons, this is the first Hong Sisters' drama I enjoyed from beginning to end in well over a decade.

5. My Demon - so tropey (chaebols, supernaturals) but it proves that these tropes are popular for a reason. The chemistry is fire, the story is unpredictable and the whole thing is an addictive delight. A rare drama where I like each new ep more than the last one.

4. Goryeo Khitan War - an old school sageuk in every meaning of the term (no romance, no eye candy, lots of bearded men, battles and politics), this feels like watching an epic movie more than a drama. The vast cast all earns their place and the performances (mainly from character actors given a chance to shine) are incredible.

3. Call It Love - two very very damaged people finding love and healing with each other. This is a narrative very hard to do to my satisfaction but when it's done well, as here, there are few things that can hold a candle to it.

2. My Dearest - a masterpiece of cinematography, narrative, performances. This is an old-school epic romance in the best sense of the term. If it doesn't make you swoon or break your heart, there is something wrong with you. A story of two untraditional, strong-willed, flawed people who fall in love in the middle of the horrifying Qing invasion of Korea and have to deal with all that the world throws at them, this is a bona fide masterpiece.

1 - Moon in the Day - who knew my favorite kdrama of the year will star a store brand Domyoji from Extraordinary You and an actress I was never familiar with. But this part period/part modern fantasy tale of doomed cursed lovers is everything I knew I wanted and everything I didn't know I wanted but did. Two lovers where their love did not save them and in modern day it might not again, has got me obsessed the way I haven't been in years.

FAVORITE DRAMA

Moon in the Day - if there is such a thing as a drama made perfectly for me, this gorgeous, emotionally haunting, utterly romantic, twisty tale is it.

WORST DRAMA

The Escape of the Seven. This drama is proof that demons exist and not sexy ones like Song Kang but horrible nasty ones who delight in the torment this hot mess inflicted on its viewers.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Do Ha, Moon in the Day - a Silla general and a consummate killer who committed atrocities on the orders of his monster father and yearned to die for them, who found the meaning in life in loving his enemy but it did not make him better, a man so obsessed he literally was around for 1500 years of horrifying ghostly existence and still went "worth it" for a woman who killed him as long as he knew she loved him while she did it. He's intense and competent and beyond fucked up and has never had a normal day and I love him so so so very much from a safe distance.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Gil Chae, My Dearest - she starts out as vain and spoiled but the horrors that break so many others bring out all her fierce survivor potential and she becomes such a force of nature - capable of incredible love but also sacrifice and strength and compassion.

Runner Up: Shin Hye Sun's reincarnator in See You In My 19th Life - quirky, damaged, strong, so odd and so vulnerable at once.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

There are a lot of characters who fit that category (King Injo in My Dearest? My God) but the crown belongs to So Ri Bu from Moon in the Day. You think you've seen abusive parents but until you've seen a man abuse his son his whole life and then continue for 1500 years after his death, you ain't seen nothing!

FAVORITE SHIP

The doomed by the narrative OTP of Moon in The Day. Only thing that's better than enemies to lovers is enemies while lovers and their impossible relationship where her killing him is a supreme act of love and his refusing to let go is so strong that he stays around for 1500 years watching her, helpless as she dies over and over again, is everything you ever want.

Runner up: Jang Hyun/Gil Chae, My Dearest. They are so strong and so damaged and it takes them so long to figure out what they feel and what the other person feels but their love and sacrifice and complexities are perfect.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Kim Shi Yeol/Hong Joo, The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - an assassin bodyguard pretending to be a carefree scholar and a widow of the man he killed to protect his king (and whose life was destroyed as a result.) I enjoyed the main OTP of this drama but I was utterly and completely unhinged for the secondary couple.

I'd have probably picked Rang and his mermaid from TotNT 1938 even over them, but they really were the main OTP of that drama.

NOTP

King the Land couple seems like an easy target but honestly, they are both so terribly bland and antiseptic and marketing by committee, they kinda deserve each other. So I am gonna go with Destined with You, one half of which thinks supernaturally roofying someone into loving them is cute and the other half thinks dating one woman while wooing another is totally a-ok. Ugh.

FAVORITE SCENE

There is no competition for the scene in the slave market in My Dearest, where Jang Hyun finds Gil Chae - the way he screams and tries to clutch the hem of her skirt will live in my head forever.

And the scene where he 'wins' that horrifying bet, or the scene where she finds him in a pile of bodies - they are as good also. Or when he fights off a squad to protect her even though he's sick. That whole drama is perfect.

Runner up: the scene of Do Ha executing Ri Ta's family, covered in blood, as she looks at him from the crowd in Moon in the Day.

Or the scene where he talks about how he cannot live as a person but at least maybe she will kill him and he will die as one. Or when her confession in the past intercuts with his walking in the present, or when he comes home in his bloodied armor and she finds he has a fever and it's the first tender touch he's probably ever known. Her murdering So Ri Bu saying she knows she's going against filial piety in loving her parents' murderer, the way they hug, both bloody, as he says "let's live." The way she says she can't go on as she's hit rock bottom and he replies she cannot quit because she must accompany him to his rock bottom now. Honestly, the drama is a font of amazingness.

Also, the opening scene of Goryeo Khitan War or the scene of Yang Gyu ordering to shoot the captives and having to do so himself.

The OTP meeting again at the intersection at the end of ep 1 of Tell Me That You Love Me. SHS comforting ABH as he's having a traumatic breakdown in 19th Life. The love-making scene in Call It Love. There were a lot of great scenes this year.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Lee Jang Hyun, My Dearest - is that even a competition? He's flawed - vain, often emotionally closed off, not great at processing emotions, lashing out when hurt. He is also incredibly heroic in a real, knows the cost but bears it, kind of way. Whatever he does, he commits utterly but it's never without understanding the cost. He felt both larger than life and utterly real. He went through hell and maintained his soul and the way he loved Gil Chae was breath-taking to behold.

Runner Up: Yang Gyu, Goryeo Khitan War - an experienced military commander who wins an impossible victory even as it ravages his soul. Competence is sexy as fuck.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Rang, Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - 1938 really was Rang's chance to shine and he took it. For a character I started out disliking in the original, he really stole my entire heart in this drama. I am so glad he got his happy ending with his brother and his girl.

Runner Up: Crown Prince, My Dearest. He started out as a sheltered, spoiled aristocrat, convinced the world owed him for existing. He grew up slowly and painfully into an amazing man. And then was murdered for it and I cried.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Arthdal - it leaves the story at a good stopping point but it's very much a "world in flux, adventures and conflicts continue" ending and I would love to see more of these characters. I know we won't but it would have been nice.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Behind Your Touch - should have been snipped at birth.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Vigilante - I don't mean it had scissors taken to it because it's not cdrama and there is no NRTA, but this drama would have benefitted from being longer. I mean, I love fights and gay polycules as much as the next tumblr person but a bit more character development would not have come amiss. (ahaha - I said come. Leave me alone.)

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

I don't care about cops/doctors/trash collectors/whoever - workplace drama centering on their "cases" needs to die. I hate procedurals from any country and Korea is no exception.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Supernatural critter devoted to their OTP with all the power of their long life.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Our Blooming Youth - it was far from terrible but it was a giant meh. I was so excited to see Park Hyung Sik in a sageuk (that wasn't the hot mess that was Hwarang) and I adored the source novel. It actually started well and then...it's like Revenge of the Beige!

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

I want to say Moon in the Day but to be honest, I was excited by posters and trailers so it wasn't wholly a surprise despite not having much of an opinion on the actors before I saw them. So I am going to say My Demon. I was bored by the trailers, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a Kim Yoo Jung drama and before this year I would have said Song Kang was an incredibly limited actor in everything I've seen him in and not appealing to me at all. And here I am rabidly rabiding for this drama!

If I am not limiting myself to dramas but can use this for actors - Hwang Minhyun in My Lovely Liar. I genuinely did not think the man could act and then he gave such a pitch-perfect, nuanced performance out of nowhere!

2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

I have actually watched all the kdramas that aired this year that I wanted to check out except for Evilive. I am saving this for when I have time.

BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023

I don't know if I'd say it's the best but Say You Love Me (2004) with Kim Rae Won as a quasi monk seduced away from his true love by an evil older woman was a hell of a ride.

MOST ANTICIPATED

Love Song for Illusion (Lady assassin falls for her royal target who has two personalities), Captivating the King (lady spy falls for her royal target who is tormented) - notice a theme? Also Flower that Blooms at Night because Honey Lee in a sageuk, The Life of Mrs Ock (Lim Ji Yeon in a sageuk), The Love Story of Chun Hwa (an "erotic" sageuk, hmmmm, what?!), Hong Rang (Lee Jae Wook in a super angst sageuk), Queen Woo (that cast and set in Goguryeo!), Wong Kyung (about Lee Bang Won's wife and I love the cast.) Basically, if it's period, I am there with bells on.

#kdrama #year in review #my dearest #moon in the day #call it love #tell me that you love me #goryeo khitan war #tale of the nine tailed 1938 #tale of the nine tailed: 1938 #The Secret Romantic Guesthouse #my demon #the story of park's marriage contract #perfect marriage revenge #Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow #see you in my 19th life #my lovely boxer

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fayes-fics · 1 year

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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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hannieehaee · 1 month

Note

Svt and ass shots

svt and ass shots

18+ / mdi

content: smut, ass shots, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 798

a/n: sorry i took so long </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he goes crazy for it. the sight reminds him that you're his and he's the only person who gets to mark you in such way. he'd love the nastiness of it, feeling like getting you messy with his cum was a bit disrespectful in itself but adoring how you'd even come to entice him into doing it, not caring for the mess.

jeonghan -

he's totally into ass shots im 100% sure. i can literally visualize his moans getting higher as he neared his end and hurriedly pulled out to cum on your ass. would tease you about it and how desperate for him you must be to let him do such a nasty thing to you.

joshua -

like jeonghan, he'd be super cocky about it. it wasnt his favorite place to cum, but it'd always give him an ego boost when you'd ask (re: beg) him to cum on your ass. would tease and mock you about it despite he himself feeling weak at the kneed at the sight of your ass/back covered in his cum.

jun -

his brain would go foggy at the simple thought of hitting it from the back and getting to cum on your ass. the sight would just be too much for him to handle, making him get hard again far too soon and causing him to delay clean up or aftercare in order to get the both of you there once more.

soonyoung -

there would be zero thoughts in his head as he reached his high, meaning that he would not plan where he was going to cum. he'd just freestyle it, which would result in cumming on your ass/back most times. on days he was feeling particularly nasty, he'd play with his cum on your ass, groaning at his pretty the translucent substance looked against your skin.

wonwoo -

despite how reserved he may seem, he'd go absolutely insane over cumming on your ass/back. this would be his go-to for whenever you let him hit it raw and from behind. the mere thought of it as he reached his climax would have him rutting against you with extra strength, making it a little hard for him to even leave your warmth for long enough to cum on your ass.

jihoon -

enjoys the concept of it but not the mess. cleaning up his own cum from your back/ass was just something he was too lazy to do after the exhaustion he felt from fucking you altogether, so he'd probably save it only for special occasions in which his stamina was extra high.

seokmin -

on one side, i can see him thinking that cumming on your ass might be unseemly and disrespectful (he was a true gentleman after all!!) but on another side, i also see his carnal desires taking over while having sex with you, leading his brain to become mush and feel this sense of dominance as he marked you with his cum.

mingyu -

gives me the vibe like he's down for anything. he'd love ass shots but his favorite way to cum would be inside you. so basically, he'll take the chance to cum on your ass any day, but given the option he'd much rather cum inside you and eat out the remnants. a nasty man overall.

minghao -

he's a little bit of a wild card for me. i think he might find cumming on your ass too raunchy(?) and would rather cum in a way that left a bit less traces behind. however!!! whenever his mind was clouded by horniness, he would not even care about where he came as long as he got both of you there.

seungkwan -

i cant rlly picture him to be a huge fan of it but he's not against it!! he'd rather cum inside a condom while still inside you or having you finish him off in your mouth, etc rather than staining you with cum. it'd make him feel kinda mean and dirty, but sometimes his orgasm would just take over and he'd cum on your ass.

vernon -

yet another member who enjoys it but cannot bear to deal with the mess. after sex he just wants to lay down and hold you against him. he'd do minimal clean up and call it a day, which was something he couldn't really do if he made a mess all over you.

chan -

it'd make him feel a huge ego boost. almost as if you were just so fully his to the point of letting him stain you with his cum. he'd groan at the mere thought and become extremely whiney as he approached his high knowing he was about to finish on you in such a dirty way; a way in which only he would ever get to.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut

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yourstrulyrika · 4 months

Note

rika <3 was wondering if u could write smth about leon reassuring reader? maybe she insecure, thinks that leon deserves someone better (ada maybe?)

you are sooo sweet to us all, i hope you are taking care of yourself!! xoxo

hello ♡ of course!! i actually love this concept, been thinking about this, so ofc! also love you too ♡ i’m glad all of you are following me!!

no warnings, pure fluff and comfort. heavy mentions of insecurity and mental struggles though. reader is hinted to be Leon’s mission partner, but not stated directly!! re4r!Leon :3

you’re insecure, to say the least. always thinking you’re not good enough, that you’re ugly, undeserving— and then there’s Leon. the most perfect man you laid your eyes on, and he’s your boyfriend. he loves you, more than life itself — but even when he tells you that, you don’t quite believe it. Leon is honest, sure, but what if he’s just saying this? what if he just doesn’t want to make you upset? those thoughts keep nagging your head. your mind is your own hell.

and there’s also Ada. Ada Wong — Leon has said so many times they don’t share anything, that he doesn’t like her that way.She’s just the part of his life he can’t get rid of—

and that mere sentence strengthened your doubts. it got worse. so much worse.

you saw her like once in your life, and the way Leon looks at her. you started thinking he loves her, doubts eating you alive. Ada is so much prettier, so much better, smarter, stronger— the list can go on. you hate it. what if Leon likes her more and is with you out of pity? after all, he knows Ada for long years right? You know about the kiss— he says it was just Ada using his feelings and all that. you did not believe him. not one fucking bit.

since then, your mind has created a whole new scenario that Leon doesn’t love you. you can’t help it. you started isolating yourself, closing yourself in your own world and not speaking to him. any attemps at conversation coming from Leon were futile. you just couldn’t find it in yourself to speak. why would he want to speak with you anyway? he has Ada, right? she’s so much better.

but, Leon was going insane. losing his damn mind over this. he knew something was going on. why won’t you talk to him? what’s going on— why are you so damn quiet? pushing him away? he feels so confused, but also so stressed out over this. what happened? what did he do wrong?

he tried talking to you, but you just.. won’t budge. and he feels so damn horrible. he just wants to wrap you in his arms and comfort you.

“Please, just speak to me. Baby? Please, I beg you. I love you, you know that, right?”

you hear his words, but you don’t respond. why can’t he just go away? obviously he’s lying.

but he just gets so damn frustrated. he’s growing fucking desperate. your doors are locked— not letting him in. but he won’t let you isolate yourself any further. he literally breaks down the door to reach you, finding you laying down on the bed.

he kneels down beside your bed, reaching out to take your hand in his. when you don’t reach back, he frowns, but doesn’t push any further. instead, he lets you have your own space.

“What’s going on? Please, talk to me. No matter how silly you think it is.” he’s genuine when saying this. he genuinely cares about you so damn much, wants you to be happy with him.

you hesitate to respond, mumbling out a single “Ada Wong.”

and it was enough to hit him with a damn reality check. you were insecure about Ada. you were always insecure, but surely Ada’s appearance didn’t help. the way he’s looking at you, so sweet and loving, it tells you he understands. he stands up, sitting on the bed to cup your cheeks.

“Oh baby. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” that’s all he says while looking into your eyes to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“I know what you think. I can see it right in your eyes. But please, don’t think she means anything to me. She’s a part of my past, sure, but she’s just the past. What matters is right now — and right now, you’re mine. I don’t feel anything towards Ada. That feeling left years ago. Please, let me prove it to you.” he says as he presses his lips to your forehead, interlocking your fingers together. you let him in, let him hold you. and he’s so damn happy over this — so desperate to reassure you.

“I missed holding you so much, princess. I love you, and only you. I’m all yours — everything I have, it’s also yours. My body, my heart, my soul belongs to you.” he whispers in your ear, laying down beside you, turning your position a little so you face him while he holds you.

“And I don’t want anyone else. No one. All I see is you. Everyone else just don’t matter to me. You’re all I want.” he’s peppering your face with little kisses, hoping you hear him out. he makes sure you fall asleep that night, in his arms. he’s holding you in his arms through the whole night, not letting go.

“There’s no one better than you. Not even Ada, Jill, Claire— no one. No. One.” he says this firmly, making sure you understand. or at least tries to get it into your head. he’s so hopelessly in love with you, literally could die for you. one could say he’s almost obsessed— in a way, he is. he thinks about you 24/7, even on his missions, when about to sleep, when training.

he falls asleep eventually, once you’re asleep— and when he wakes up, and sees you awake, he’s already all over you.

“Please, don’t leave me. Never leave.” he begs you; you can see how desperate he is. you never see him so open with his feelings. but he just can’t handle the thought of you leaving, he’s so damn terrified about this. looking at you with vulnerable, soft eyes, pleading you to understand. he loves you with his entire heart, and he means it.

“I won’t. I love you, too.”

you say, and that much is enough for him to pull you into a kiss. a deep, loving kiss where pours all his love into. it lasts until both of you are breathless, but even then, he doesn’t want to let go. lets you catch your breath, before pulling you into another kiss. locking your lips with his own, cupping your face. when he pulls away, he looks at you again, with a soft smile on his face.

“Let’s have a lazy day today, okay? I just want to pamper you, show you I love you so much. Just let me take care of you — I want to make sure you won’t ever doubt yourself over Ada again.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader

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chocochipjewel · 1 month

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Yapping about Belos and his ending excessively while also analysing him to the best of my ability under the cut

So given how much art of him I've reblogged by now, it really shouldn't come as a surprise that Belos is my favourite character from the Owl House.

I could talk about him for HOURSS but I just want to talk about 2 of my favourite moments of him to highlight the parts of him I love the most.

This moment in Hollow Mind, when he gets the key in his hand and you can see the light in his eyes. It's the only time his eyes have the distinct shine in them like every other character has all the time, and it's cause of the key he's holding. The key to the human realm is the only thing that gives him that shine cause it's the only thing he genuinely cares about. Everything he's doing is to go back home and revel in glory, which, while selfish, adds so much to his character. He's not doing this JUST for power, he became an Emperor just to tear his own creations down. I just find something extremely poetic about that.

And the second moment -

THIS MOMENT. THIS MOMENT IN KING'S TIDE AJDHSJSHSJS

I'm still mad these flashbacks were never brought up in any big way cause THEY REALLY SHOULD HAVE BUT AHSKSJS I'M GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF.

Belos reliving his worst memories was always a concept that was going to be interesting because it's an insight into what really gets into the head of our main antagonist. What does the guy who is everyone else's worst fear have to fear. And the answer is himself.

The 3 memories he sees are him approaching Caleb with the knife, the actual murder as pictured above, and the creation of the grimwalkers.

What really gets me is that his eyes are wide when he recalls the first memory, but they look smaller in the second memory (in the screenshot). Maybe it's just the angle but I always interpreted it as his expression shifting to be one of genuine sadness for this particular memory. Because the mere fact that his most personal crime is also his worst memory is such an interesting concept. How does he live with that sort of guilt and worse, keep doing those same crimes but WORSE?

All of Hollow Mind could just be here really and I wouldn't complain. It's THE episode for Belos fans that really allowed us to dig into him, and the mere fact that he's consciously scratched off Caleb from all the happy memories as if to justify his own fratricide is a level of desperate coping that I just find so very interesting ajdjhsjjs

Not to mention that his inner self is a child, which, while a pretence by him, could still say something about how in his head, he still has not grown up and is still playing pretend, still playing witch hunter with every version of Caleb he creates, still playing god to finally achieve a fantasy so very childish and so frankly basic that it makes anyone watching from the outside think "wait, that's it? That's all this is for?" AND THAT'S THE POINT

Cause none of this needed to happen. None of this has a greater value than Philip trying to chase after lost dreams. All the plans he made, all his great power and his great empire amounts to nothing because he himself plans to destroy all of it to chase that childhood dream. Just like Luz, he entered the Boiling Isles to find a home, only his home was Caleb and he was never willing to love new things in the Isles, while Luz loved so much she literally changed the lives of everyone she met by loving them. And unlike Luz, Philip never grew out of that mindset, only burying it in layers and layers of lies and half truths.

In general, his relationship with Caleb is for sure the most interesting part of his character to me. The fact that he both repeatedly murders and repeatedly creates new grimwalkers in an endless cycle and then hallucinates Caleb looking at him with disdain implies so much about his dependancy on Caleb and the deepest parts of himself that know what he's doing is wrong. The parts that have broken free from the layers and layers of cognitive dissonance and have accepted that he was wrong, without any more justifications.

And now, to 'briefly' rant about him in season 3

Thanks to Them was juicy for character exploration, but I wish we actually got to see him react to the human realm properly. It's everything he's wanted, it's the one thing that still brings light into his life but the world he returned to would absolutely hate him. He's done all this for nothing. I wanted so badly to see how he copes with his guilt then, but they were short on time so I get it.

For the Future's hallucination scene makes this even more interesting cause of the depiction of him actually seriously suffering from something like hallucinations. It was dark as hell, and it was really interesting.

And then... WaD. All in all, a great finale. The only real big problem I had with it was Belos' ending.

After so much buildup to his depth and his motivations and his guilt and all his lies slowly collapsing around him, after everything he did to so many people, he deserved a better death. I don't think he didn't deserve death, I just think it happened too quick. Where was the final cathartsis from all his victims shunning him (Luz staring was perfect don't get me wrong, but the whole Hexsquad deserved to be there). Where was the moment he would finally no longer be able to lie to himself and he would be forced to accept that he did EVERYTHING he did, made all those great sacrifices, tortured so many people, just to fail and be at his victims' mercy after accomplishing nothing?

I understand the finale was juggling many MANY characters and plotpoints, but that's not stopping me from wishing for a better ending.

I wish I had had the motivation to draw something for this like I'd hoped, but a brief description about what kind of ending I'd have wanted will have to do.

I wish Luz saw his memories in the place in between with Papa Titan. It would reinforce her arc of feeling like they come from the same place too, if she saw Caleb leaving Philip and Philip's original goal of just wanting to get his brother back. I wish Luz saw all his "sad" memories and really started to question herself.

And then I would have wanted Papa Titan to shoot that down regardless, and then explain that while Belos may have started out a victim of his circumstances as an orphaned child in a cult, the Isles gave him chances to change. Memories of Philip in the Isles seeing Caleb happy, being given chances by witches, being given so many chances to change, and rejecting them accompanying this scene would be ideal. Really hammer in that he aas responsible for his own suffering and that he has absolutely no excuse for what he did to all his victims.

And then, in the final death scene, as he claims that as humans they are better than witches one last time, I wish the ghosts of all his victims showed up to prove him wrong. Every witch and grimwalker who choose to be better than him before they fell. Every member of the Hexsquad who believed in him and his regime at one point. Every single one of them a reminder of how his lies can't even convince himself anymore.

And finally, his own brother, a fellow human, who appears before him. I imagine Caleb looking at him with pity, almost sympathy, before a quiet acceptance comes onto his face and he turns away from him. He walks towards the crowd and chooses their side, next to Evelyn. Neither Caleb nor Luz say a single word. There is nothing left to be said to him anymore. Every single person on the Isles, human or witch, has turned against him now.

If anything could break his will, I think this would be it. I imagine him phasing through his different forms, trying to find a way to justify himself in each one, gradually desolving into desparate screams, before the boiling rain melts him away like in canon (except without the stomping please).

Aaaand that's it, no more notes. Thanks so much to all the Wittebane fans in the community who have kept his fanbase fed when the show didn't meet our standards and who prompted the line of thought that led to this post.

There are so many of you all who inspired and made my fandom experience fun and created so much out of just Philip, Caleb, and Evelyn (and all your OCs of course!!) so I'm just going to shoutout the ones I remember off the top of my head -

@talisman975

@jess-the-vampire

@calebsrottingcorpse

@owlyhouse

@anona1-mous

@captainmera

@moonmeg

@azure-blaze92

@a-magpie-in-the-bi

@a-magpie-in-gravesfield

This is no particular order and I'm surely missing more so this is by no means exhaustive, but this is just a shoutout for those who kept this fandom going. Y'all are the real troopers for sure.

That's all I got, but I'm posting some old Belos art soon! Cheers all, and may the terrible awful no good goo babygirl keep inspiring us for all the great art <3

#toh #the owl house #belosfanstakeover #emperor belos #philip wittebane #jewel talks about stuff #character analysis #watching and dreaming

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