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seungminsbestywesty · 6 months ago

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LITERALLY AMAZING!! if ur writing pt2 pls tag me! :)

𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 (Chuck Bass x Reader)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Being Nate Archibald‘s little sis has some advantages, for example being friends with Serena van der Woodsen and his current girlfriend (and, if you ask Nate‘s parents definitely his future wife) Blair Waldorf. But there are also some rules that come with it. And the most important one is: Don‘t mess with Chuck Bass - literally. Stay away from your older brother’s best friend—everyone knows that rule. But rules are meant to be broken, aren’t they?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Chuck Bass x f!Archibald!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: English is not my first language - so if you see mistakes message me! Underage drinking but not much...

𝐏𝐒: This is my first fanfic here on Tumblr, so I’d love some feedback and let me know if I should write Part 2 💕

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With a last smile in the mirror I place my elegant black Venetian mask over my face, then I turn around to look at Blair. "Stunning, sweetie," she says with a smile, as she reaches for the strands of my curtain bangs smoothing them into place. Blair and I have always been best friends and since Serena‘s sudden disappearance (and her even more unexpected reappearance a few days ago) we got even closer, both left without getting any explanation. Three became two. Plus Blair‘s minions, even though I wouldn’t count them in as friends. I half-listen to Blair talking about the little hunt she has planned for my brother and I can’t bring myself to tell her that he actually seemed pretty distracted in the last couple days - especially since Serena came back. Ignoring problems. It‘s what we do best here on the Upper East Side, isn’t it? Instead I focus on my reflection in the mirror. I can’t deny that Blair did a great job choosing my dress. It hugs my body in all the right ways, not revealing too much, but enough to give something to fantasize about. Blair hugs me from behind, a wide smile on her beautiful face. "Ready Liz?" she asks and I can hear the excitement in her voice. "Ready B!" I answer and nod excitedly.

A glass of champagne in my hand, I linger at the edge of the room, feeling a little lost, while I watch all the pairs dance and talk. I see my brother, standing at the opposite side of the room, his mask is inspired by the Phantom of the Opera, the lights of the room mirroring in the silver of the mask. Shouldn’t he be looking out for Blair?

But before I can continue to marvel at what’s wrong, I feel a presence next to me, one that sends shivers down my spine. The scent of his cologne surrounds me, achingly familiar.

Chuck Bass, wearing the red mask of the Devil himself. Fitting, isn’t it? "Chuck,"I greet him with a thin smile. "Little Liz," he answers, and I don’t even have to look at him to know that his lips are curved up in that characteristic charming smile of his. "All alone?" he adds. "Not at all, I mean I have this charming glass of champagne to keep me company," I reply with a smirk.

"I‘m not entirely sure if Nate would like to see his little sister drinking alcohol when she‘s barely sixteen," Chuck states, looking down at me. His words almost make me roll my eyes. "Come on, you’re exaggerating - I‘m not even a year younger than you guys!" I answer, before I take another sip of the alcohol. "Just stating," Chuck mumbles nonchalantly.

The next words he says make my heart race more than they should. I can only pray that he doesn’t hear it, considering how close he is standing to me. "Don‘t tell your brother that I said it, but you look wonderful tonight, darling," he whispers, his voice soft like silk. "What, Chuck? You don’t have any other girls hanging on your every word? Are you really that desperate that you need to make moves on your best friend‘s sister?" I question, as I look at him.

Chuck laughs, which sends another shiver down my spine - I have no idea, how he’s even doing that. But at the same time I remember that this is Chuck Bass. He and his special talent to make women feel like queens, even just for one night and to get them right where he wants them - his bed.

My breath hitches when I suddenly feel his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. I want to protest, but at the same time I feel my body relaxing. What a traitor. "Oh Little Liz, I might be a player, but Nate would kill me if he saw me ruining his sweet, innocent sister. Even though I must admit, it’s rather tempting," he whispers into my ear.

My eyes dart around anxiously, searching for Nate. I don’t know who‘d be more screwed if Nate saw us. Chuck, obviously flirting with me even though I‘m clearly off limits? Or me, letting it happen without any resistance? The silver gleam of my brother‘s mask is nowhere to be seen in the chattering and dancing crowd of high society teens in the elegant room. I wonder if it’s just imagination or if the music got slightly louder over time.

A couple stumbles past us, deep in a kiss. The smell of alcohol around them makes me wrinkle my nose. "Disgusting" I mumble quietly. It’s meant more to myself, but of course Chuck heard it - which actually isn’t much of a surprise, considering how close he’s standing to me. A few centimeters more and we actually might kiss. And somehow the thought of his lips against mine doesn’t trigger aversion - more of an exciting sparkle.

I hear Chuck‘s quiet laughter in my ear, which pulls me back to reality, out of my thoughts. "You’re not much of a drinker, huh Liz?" he asks as he casually takes the champagne glass out of my hand, before he drinks a few sips of it. I want to protest, but I know there‘s no chance I‘ll get my glass back unless Chuck decides it. Instead I choose to answer his question. "No, I don’t drink often. Mostly because I don’t like the taste," I say.

Chuck smirks, I can see his elegant lips curving under his mask. "Oh come on… you can’t call yourself a real Upper East Sider rich kid if you never drunk yourself into absolute oblivion," he says laughing. I roll my eyes. "I‘m not you, Chuck. In case you forgot," I respond dryly.

Mockingly Chuck holds a hand over his heart as if I‘ve stabbed him there with my words. "Ouch, Lizzie. This is all that I am to you? A rich kid that likes to get drunk?" he asks, his voice filled with fake hurt.

"Actually you forgot 'junkie' and 'manwhore'" I add casually. Chuck, who has just taken a sip of my champagne, almost chokes on it from his sudden laughter. "Wow, wow, wow… since when do you use words like this?" he chuckles. "I‘m sixteen, Chuck, not ten," I mumble in annoyance. "I see that," he answers with a wink, his gaze drifting down my curves, as a smirk spreads across his face.

"Believe me, little Liz, I‘m not the only guy who has noticed that Nate‘s little sister has grown up… but I‘m the only one who can really appreciate it. Could make you feel better than all those other stupid upper class idiots," he adds, his smirk widening. Meanwhile, I casually grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. Now it’s me who almost chokes on the champagne, coughing and trying not to spill it all over myself and my dress.

Chuck next to me, bursts into laughter. Of course, he has me exactly where he wants me - falling for his words. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a stark contrast to the white of my dress. I can only pray that my mask covers enough of my face so it’s not visible. But when I finally stop coughing and look up at Chuck, the grin on his face tells me without any doubt, that I must look like a tomato.

"Fuck you!" I call out, staring at him angrily. "Sorry, Little Liz, sorry," he says between fits of laughter. It’s clearly visible that he’s the opposite of sorry. A few of the people around us turn to look, watching with judgmental gazes through their masks. My cheeks burn even hotter, but finally Chuck decides that he’s laughed enough at my embarrassment. "So, Lizzie? Wanna go outside a bit? Nice view over NY at night, no judging eyes… besides, I could really go for a joint right now," Chuck asks, a small smirk still on his lips, while he extends his hand in my direction.

I glance around in the grand ballroom for a moment, watching all the couples gazing at each other lovingly and hearing their laughter. I don’t really feel like going outside, but I know that I‘ll be alone again if I refuse Chuck‘s request. And somehow, I don’t want to be standing all alone on the edge of the ball room anymore. So I simply nod, take Chuck‘s outstretched hand and follow him out of the door and up the stairs onto the rooftop of the building.

The cold night air sends shivers down my spine, but somehow it doesn’t seem to affect me. The only thing that lights up the rooftop are the full moon in the sky and the few stars shining around it. We search for a quiet corner, where I can see the cars deep down in the streets of the Upper East Side.

When I feel myself getting anxious, I take a step away from the edge - fear of highs in NY is kinda unpractical. I watch Chuck, who took off his mask already, as he lights his joint. He extends his hand to me, offering me to take a hit, but I shake my head.

"Suit yourself," he mumbles before he inhales it. Meanwhile I‘ve decided to take off my mask too. Why wait until midnight if we both know each other anyway? Besides it started to get uncomfortable anyway. When I glance back at Chuck, he‘s already staring at me and it might be imagination, but I swear he’s got an almost fascinated look in his eyes.

"You’re beautiful," he mumbles suddenly and if I didn’t know it better, I would’ve never imagined that this is Chuck Bass. The guy I’ve known my whole life. He would never ever call a girl 'beautiful'. 'Hot' or 'Sexy' maybe, but calling me beautiful goes in a completely und unexpected different direction.

I could blame his joint on it, but at the same time I‘m more than just sure that he hasn’t smoked enough of it to show serious effects. I know how he gets when he’s high and this is different. I don’t know how to answer him, so a strange silence settles between us, only broken by the sound of cars driving in the illuminated streets of NY and the chatting of the people, who are walking in said streets.

"I’m not trying to sweet-talk you, Liz. I mean every word," he adds into the quiet. I swallow. His words make my heart race faster than it should. Too fast. And it’s that moment in which I realize that I‘ve always got more than just friendly feelings for Chuck Bass. My brother‘s best friend. The guy who always was off limits to me.

"Fuck it,"I mumble and then I get on my tiptoes, close the distance between me and him by wrapping my arms around his neck, before press my lips against his. He doesn’t even strain when I pull him down on my level, but instead he drops his joint, leans into me and kisses me back. It’s not my first kiss, though it certainly feels like the first one that truly matters. Not just because Chuck absolutely knows what he’s doing (of course he does, otherwise he wouldn’t be Chuck Bass), but also because the butterflies in my stomach seem to fly around like crazy, while at the same time an unexpected calm spreads through me.

It’s a strange mix, a warm sensation deep inside of me, that I wouldn’t want to let that go ever again, not for any price in this world. This is more than just a simple boring kiss with some simple boring guy, it’s more of a moment, something like a core memory, that I‘ll never forget.

I feel his hands on my back, his fingers grazing over my hip gently, holding me close to him. The grip is confident, like I‘d expect it from Chuck. But at the same time it’s loose enough to let me go, whenever I feel like backing out. Which is actually the opposite of what I want.

Instead I press myself closer to him, deepening the kiss, while my heart feels like it’s about to explode. It‘s like everything is frozen in time, this is all I ever wanted and a few seconds ago I didn’t even know that.

But then out of nowhere a light flashes, breaking the magic of the scene abruptly. The warmth that the kiss triggered vanished with the dazzling light, that broke the darkness and also the comfortable, mysterious atmosphere, which almost seemed to protect Chuck and me.

Chuck and I stop kissing, freezing like deers caught in the headlight. While I need a few seconds to realize what just happened - I kissed my brother‘s best friend- Chuck immediately analyzes every little detail of the situation. It doesn’t take him long to understand what just happened. "Shit, that was the fucking flashlight of a camera," Chuck hisses.

Horrified I stare at him, knowing that his realization must be right. A single glance is enough to decide our next step. Immediately we both make our way to the stairs, we came up, the only way that leads up to the roof of the building. But what we see is disappointing. The staircase is empty, the cold metal only lit up by the moon’s glow.

Whoever took the photo is long gone, already back inside, blending in with the other masked rich kids at the party. Two thoughts keep lingering in my head, signaling like a blinking neon sign at a shady club. The first is a pounding question. Who the hell was it? The second one is an assumption, which makes me feel sick to my stomach. If those photos won’t end up on Gossip Girl‘s new post, then she must be insane to let a scandal like this slide.

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝: Chuck Bass, caught red-handed—and red-lipped—with none other than Elizabeth Archibald. Oh Liz, breaking the rules never looked so good. But big brothers don’t like surprises… and something tells me the fallout will be delicious.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl 💋

#gossip girl #nate archibald #chuck bass #chuck bass x reader #gg x reader #gossip girl imagine #gossip girl fanfiction #gg imagines #gossip girl x reader #blair waldorf #serena van der woodsen #fem reader

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seungminsbestywesty · 6 months ago

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— 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧ཉྀ

— Game Of Thrones x Modern!Reader

During a trip to Dragonstone, you suddenly find yourself in the era of the Game of Thrones. As all eyes fall onto you, the mysterious person that seemed to appear out of no where, what do you do? Do you try to find a way back to your time or do you gamble it all and play the Game of Thrones?

Prologue: Dragonstone

i. Bloodline

ii. Dragon Rider

iii. Stormborn

iv. The Queens Justice

v. The Spoils of War

vi. Secrets and the Moon

vii. Eastwatch

viii. Beyond the Wall

new series, lesgooooooo :)

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seungminsbestywesty · 7 months ago

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Bathhouse Rewards

A/N: uh I hope everyone can go to church (or your equivalent) after reading this :D a labour of love. a mess of self indulgent filth.

To everyone I promised 2 parts... sorry! I wrote it one single longshot instead, my WIP is breeding again... hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard by me, divider by @zaldritzosrose

Fandom: The Last Kingdom

Pairing: Reader x Finan x Osferth x Sihtric x Uhtred

Rating: E, definitely E

Words: 5k on the dot

Content Warnings: smut. filthy filthy smut. poly relationships. nudity. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. oral sex (f receiving). multiple orgasms. masturbating/hand job (m/m). rimming. anal sex (f receiving). touch of rough sex. double penetration. cum eating. frottage (m/m). implied voyeurism. implied exhibitionism. coccham squad being their charming selves and reader is down to fuck.

taglist (pls ask to be added or removed): @foxyanon @gemini-mama @thenameswinter99 @legitalicat

It had been a hard fight but the battle was won and you traveled with your Lord, Uhtred, and a small company of his most trusted men. You rode at the back of the group, trailing behind Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth. You traveled not back to Coccham, the village you all called home, but to Wintanchester, to report the results of Uhtred's latest victory to King Alfred.

You arrived in Wintanchester just as the sun was setting and the fading light blanketed the sprawling city. Wintanchester was prospering, in no small part thanks to the efforts of your Lord and his warriors, and the town boasted the best Inns and amenities one could possibly ask for.

One such amenity was the newly constructed public bathhouse, fashioned after the style of baths the Romans of old had once used and was hugely popular amongst nobles and peasants alike. It was made of many rooms filled with great sunken pools built of smooth stone blocks and filled to the brim with an endless supply of simmering hot water, scented sweet and alluring.

It was these very baths that the men you accompanied wouldn't stop talking about as they entered Wintanchester. Luckily the recent victory made Uhtred generous and he offered to pay for a private room at the bathhouse as a reward for a battle well fought.

“I must report to Alfred first but we have earned this reward.” He declared as he turned his horse towards Alfred's keep. He tossed a small leather pouch in Finan's direction, the Irishman deftly catching it. “For the Inn and the bathhouse. I will join you soon.”

You had just broken away from the group, urging your horse towards your preferred stable outside your favourite inn when Uhtred's voice called your attention back to him.

“Feel free to join us!” He called out, humour clear in his voice, “if you can stomach the stink on this lot.”

His words were met with rolled eyes and laughter from his assembled men, clearly meant to be a jest but the idea stuck with you as you got your horse settled and fed and saw to your bed for the night.

Why not take Uhtred up on his offer? Why not offer yourself to them and see what the fates had planned for you?

All four of the men had been subtly trying to court you for weeks, assisting you with chores around Coccham, leaving you small but thoughtful gifts. Must you choose? Each man had their own appeal, with no clear winner in your heart.

Osferth was such a sweet and caring soul, who never failed to inspire you with his bravery on the field even though it was obvious that fighting was not in his nature. He was an incredibly open-minded young man, who never judged others, he treated them all with compassion whether Saxon or Dane, Christian or Pagan.

Sihtric seemed rough on the outside but his loyalty was unmatched to any other who served under Uhtred's command. Almost loyal to a fault but that was something you greatly admired about him, his willingness to do whatever was requested of him, no matter how unpleasant the task was.

Finan was the most level headed of the group, a trait which made him a fearsome warrior and a highly capable commander of Uhtred's houseguard. He was incredibly protective of those that had earned his regard and in recent months that had extended to you. You would forever be grateful to have him at your back, on or off the battlefield.

Uhtred was bold, some might even go so far as to say rash but his battle cunning had led to many victories in service to Wessex and Alfred and that made him a Lord many wished to follow. He was generous and always shared the spoils of his battles with his men and with the villagers under his care in Coccham.

Each man could offer you something different and fulfilling but you wanted to be greedy, you didn't want to choose. You wanted them all, and why not? They were an exceptionally close group of warriors, loyal to each other and closer than brothers. Surely they would be capable of sharing you?

Decision made you left your saddlebag, your weapons and your armour in your rented room and left the Inn to find the bathhouse. You arrived in time to watch as Finan paid the attendant for their stay and he, Osferth and Sihtric were led out of sight towards one of the private rooms. You waited in the shadows for nearly a full candle mark until Uhtred arrived, his business with Alfred concluded.

You followed Uhtred, easily slipping past the attendant and sneaking down the hallway toward the room your men were in. You tried not to stare as Uhtred removed his tunic and trousers, revealing the muscular warrior's body hidden underneath, the only bit of softness on him the curve of his arse and the soft length of his cock hanging between his thighs.

The thought of that cock stretching you open made your breath hitch in your throat and already you could feel the wetness between your legs. You forced yourself to turn away as your Lord walked out of sight, and you could hear the muffled sound of splashing and low voices coming from the private room.

Your face was burning as you took several steadying breaths to try and calm your racing heart. Your stomach was fluttering, nerves and good sense warring with your decision, trying to convince you that this was a terrible idea, that they would reject you or pass it off as a jest and laugh you out of the room.

Or worse. That when presented with your nude body they would be completely unmoved. Their actions over the recent weeks not courting attempts like you had assumed but simple friendly assistance to another warrior and friend and they didn't desire you at all.

You took another fortifying breath and pushed your worries from your mind. You had not misinterpreted their intentions or the look in their eyes when you caught them staring. The heat, the desire. You were doing this.

You disrobed as quickly as you could and wrapped yourself in one of the provided towels, at least if this didn't go completely according to plan you wouldn't be completely bare. You steeled your resolve and entered the room.

It took a moment for them to notice your presence and you can admit to yourself that you enjoyed how they were all shocked into silence at your appearance. You gave them a moment to speak as you walked closer to the edge of the bath but none of the men did more than just watch so you were forced to finally break the silence.

“Thought I would take you up on your offer Lord, if it still stands?”

You see the struck dumb expression on Uhtred's face and a quick glance down showed that at least one part of the Lord did not mind you interrupting them as you get your first real glimpse of his cock. You had seen each of the men partially nude before, tending wounds and washing in the river after a battle, but never like this, never hard and aching for you. The Lord was quick to sit back in the water, hiding his arousal from you while gesturing for you to take a seat.

You bit back a grin as you stepped into the warm water. You leave your towel wrapped around you until you are fully submerged and only then did you bare yourself completely, fighting the rising heat in your face as they all watched you with darkened eyes. The water obscures some of your form but not all and it was obvious how they drank you in.

“Well the way you all talked about this place I just had to try it out for myself. I deserve to be rewarded too.” You smiled cautiously, “and there are none I would rather share it with.”

You see the men share a look with each other, silently communicating, trying to uncover the truth and meaning behind your words.

Finan gave voice to their thoughts, “A lady bathing alone with a group of renowned warriors … people might think you are looking to get humped.”

You gather every ounce of your self confidence and send the Irish warrior a flirtatious look. “Perhaps that is exactly what I am hoping will happen.”

You watch as your words sank in, as your meaning became clear and you know they understood perfectly when Uhtred suddenly stood and stalked towards you until he towering over you. You would have been intimidated but it was hard to be when you had seen this man so drunk he couldn't walk, and the fact that the sight of his hard cock made your mouth water.

“Well then as your Lord I demand first rights.” Uhtred managed to look a Lord in that moment as well, nude, cock rising from between his thighs, but the confidence exuding from the man could only come from nobility.

Finan snorted and leaned back on the stone ledge, his arms spread out on either side of him, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing with the action.

“Maybe she wants a proper cock first, not that small thing you boast between your legs.” He teased, the humour clear in his voice and Uhtred playfully splashed the other man and made a jibe back about showing Finan a proper cock.

You look at the other two men present, trying to gauge their reaction to your words.

You look to Osferth first and the poor baby monk was as red as a tomato, the stain spreading over his face and even his ears were pink! He had trouble meeting your eyes but he flashed you a bashful smile below looking away again. He would be so sweet when you got to him.

Sihtric, you noticed, couldn't take his eyes off you, but he sweetly kept those eyes on your face, not on other parts of you a man might reasonably be distracted by. He had a look of mild concern on his face.

When he saw you looking, he opened his mouth to ask another, important question “Are you sure that is what you want?”

He looked reassured when you nodded.

“I know what to expect.” You answered him with a sly look. You licked your lips before asking with a cheeky grin “How would you have worked off the energy if I did not join you?”

It was a rhetorical question, You were both aware that you knew the answer of course, having seen Sihtric sneak into both Osferth’s and Finan's tents before or Finan slipping into Uhtreds. Had heard the sounds coming from those same tents afterward. You had even crossed paths with Sihtric after one such encounter, the disheveled state of his hair and clothing and the love marks on his neck evidence enough to confirm your suspensions.

It was not unusual for warriors to lie with each other on the road or before battle after all and you didn't mind the idea of it. In fact you had often found yourself wondering what they would look like together, their battle hardened bodies bare and tangled together. The thought had helped you find pleasure in the dead of night, when all you had was the touch of your own hands and your imagination.

You hoped you would have the chance to learn the reality of it that night. To see if they worked as well together, here, as they did on the battlefield.

“Now,” you held a hand out toward Uhtred. “Let the Lord have his fun, Finan.”

You thought you would feel self conscious, being kissed while another, or several others, watched. Your previous relations had always been behind closed doors or hidden away in a tent, never with an audience, but as Uhtred's lips met yours all worries were swept away. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to his chest as your arms clung to his shoulders. He was so warm and you burrowed in even closer.

You felt Uhtred's tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately granted. You moaned as his hands found their way into your hair, fingers threading through the braids, and he tilted your head to give the kiss the best angle. You opened your mouth wider and his tongue tangled together with yours. Uhtred was a good kisser, thorough and demanding and you soon found your knees weak as he stole the very breath from your lungs.

You ran your hands down his body, fingers mapping out each dip and curve, learning the strength contained within.

Uhtred returned the favour, his hands moving out of your hair and traveling down your body, learning you just as you learned him. His hands settled just below your arse, gripping tight and the flexing of his upper body the only warning you got before he lifted you clear out of the water, mouths never separating. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hard cock trapped between you, and your core throbbed at the hot press of it against your most intimate place. You wanted it in you so badly.

Uhtred sat on the bench which lined the perimeter of the bath and settled you into his lap. The action sliding his cock against the front of your body, his length wet with a combination of your slick and his own weeping head. He slid his hands over your body, traveling up your sides, brushing against the swell of your breasts before roaming back down.

You felt like a goddess, like Freyja made flesh and these men were here to worship you.

You were so wet for him already, for them, that when one of Uhtred's hands slipped between the press of your bodies and he worked his fingers between your thighs, they quickly became wet and slippery. The matching moans you let out as they slid between your folds, barely paying attention to your nub, barely a touch, a tease, then finding your aching core. You raised up on your knees to give him more room and he pressed two inside. You were so ready that they slid in with no resistance and you rocking down against his hand, taking them in deeper.

You throw your head back as he twisted his fingers inside you, gasping and shuddering as he worked the two, then three into the tight grip of your body. The palm of his hands was pressed against your mound, providing the perfect pressure against your throbbing nub and already you felt the familiar heat growing in your belly.

It had been a long time since you had last been with a man, your body responding more desperately than you were used to and all it took for you to come wailing was Uhtred's lips wrapping around one hardened nipple and sucking.

Your voice quivered and echoed through the room, growing in volume as your Lord drew the pleasure out until you were forced to shove him away. Your inner walls were still pulsing as Uhtred pulled his fingers free and the heat was back in your face at the sight of them glistening with the evidence of your release.

He licked them clean with a few swipes of his tongue and he moaned lowly before giving you a wink. “That was fast.”

You smacked his chest weakly at the comment.

“Do not look so pleased with yourself Lord Uhtred,” you warned playfully, trying to hide the embarrassment running through you, ‘I haven't had a man since before joining you lot. You've scared away all other suitors.”

You pouted as Uhtred shared an amused look with the other men, a soft chuckled you recognized as Sihtric coming from behind you.

You felt a presence at your back, a wall of heat, then a familiar voice, Irish accent made even thicker with what you assumed was arousal “Apologies, we wanted you for ourselves. Couldn’t risk anyone else stealing you away.”

You lean back in Uhtred hold, your back pressed against Finan’s broad, muscled chest and felt the scrape of beard on your neck as he laid gentle kisses on your skin. His hands settled on your hips and he guided you to raise up higher as Uhtred got a hand between your bodies to line his cock up with your cunt.

“Ready?” Uhtred asked, his piercing blues eyes meeting yours as he waited for you to nod your consent.

The sound that escaped you as you sank down on Uhtred's cock was barely a sigh, it was breathy and waivered but was filled with so much pleasure as your walls were stretched wide around his girth.

It really had been to long since you've been humped good and proper and as you adjust and Uhtred started to fuck you in earnest you let yourself get lost in the feeling. The pleasant burn of his cock stretching you open and filling you to the hilt. The pace he set as he thrust up into you as two pairs of hands guide the rocking of your hips.

You felt amazing being held between these two men, Uhtred playing with your breasts, cupping them firmly and his tongue paying special attention to your perk nipples before sucking them into his mouth. Finan at your back, running his hands over your body and down to rub teasing circles around your nub. It didn't take much to build you back up to the edge of another, mind shattering orgasm. A nip of Uhtred's teeth and one last clever application of Finan's fingers and you were crying out in overwhelming pleasure as you shook through your release.

You barely noticed as Uhtred pulled his cock out, slumped bonelessly against Finan's chest, and stroked himself until he spent, his seed spilling over his fingers and disappearing into the water.

You were roused from your stupor when you heard moaning coming from the other side of the bath and you looked over to see Sihtric and Osferth. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder and Osferth's head was tipped back, his eyes hooded and dark with arousal as they watched you being ravished, cheeks now red.

Sihtric’s hands were under the water, the shifting muscle of his shoulder and the blurry shadow of his arms moving told you he had both his own and Osferth's cock in hand and was stroking leisurely.

You sighed, moved by the sight and you considered going to one of them next when Finan took the decision right out of your hands. He forced your attention back on him as he hefted you out of Uhtred's lap and you couldn't stop the squeal you let out at the unexpected action. He carried you to the edge of the bath so he could bend you over the warm stones.

“Ready for a real cock?” he asked as he leaned over your back, gently moving one of your braids out of your face.

You laughed at the Irishman's confident attitude but the sound pittered out into a desperate moan as he slid his hard cock between your folds and the head bumped up against your nub sending a jolt of heat up your spine.

You were swollen and a little sore already but you wanted him inside you just as desperately as you had wanted Uhtred. You arched your back and pressed your heated cheek to the stones.

“Please” you begged, looking up at the Irishman from the corner of your eye “Please.”

The feeling of him sliding into you took your breath away, the feeling of his huge cock spearing you open made your legs tremble and tears of pleasure fill your eyes and you moaned brokenly as he bottomed out. His hips pressed flush to your arse as he let you adjust. He was bigger then Uhtred, much bigger and you needed a moment to catch your breath and relax enough for him to start fucking you, and fuck you he did.

Finan was unrelenting, fucking you hard, making you feel each thrust as his large cock stretched you out and made you feel so full. He fucked you so hard that the edge of the stones tiles dug into the meat of your thighs and even that sharp sting felt so good and made you even wetter for him.

He grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body back into each thrust at the perfect angle to slam against your most sensitive spot. The unrelented pounding, combined with the rough brush of the stone tiles against your sensitive nipples hurtling you towards another release.

You had never finished more than twice before so a third caught you completely by surprise. You thrashed against the stone, wailing as the pleasure crashed over you and left you quaking in its wake.

You barely noticed the splash of wet heat as Finan pulled out and finished across your lower back and the curve of your arse.

You laid there, limp and breathing hard, stunned by the strength of the orgasm you had just experienced. Briefly you wondered if you could actually handle all four men, but determination pushed the thought away. You wanted them all and so you would have them all.

“Sihtric, help the lady get cleaned up.”

You gasped at the feeling of a wet tongue sliding across your skin, cleaning away the splatters of Finan's seed.

He didn't stop there, his tongue wiggled its way between your folds and Sihtric moaned as your slick flooded his mouth.

You gasped as that tongue moved up, between the cheeks of your arse and over your hole. You flinched, not sure if you liked the feeling or not.

Sihtric pulled away and nipped at the flesh of your hip. “Have you ever taken a man here before?” He asked, voice raspy and filled with arousal. His fingers teasing over your arse as you shook your head vehemently. You were far from a blushing maiden but you had never had a man take you in that way.

“Would you like to?”

His words stunned you into stillness. Would you? Why? You knew that when men lay together that was how it was done but why would you want to?

Sihtric seemed to be able to read your mind and he helped you to face him and he gathered you into his arms. He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, at odds with the depravity that the five of you were in the midst of.

“I would like to share you with Osferth. Keep you between us as we both claim you and make you ours,” he explained, pressing another sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You still weren't sure and Sihtric held you tighter. “I promise it will feel good and if it doesn't we can stop.”

You looked up into his eyes, noting how dark they had turned with his arousal.

“Have you done it before?” You asked, “with a woman I mean.”

“I have,” he answered, no hesitation in his voice. “I've shared women with Osferth before, and with Finan.”

You looked over at Osferth, the shy baby monk giving you an encouraging smile as he waded a few steps closer to where you and Sihtric stood.

You thought it over carefully and the idea of being held between them was definitely an appealing one. Having both their hands on you, being filled with both their cocks, sharing something you had never shared with anyone else before. You felt warm and your cunt throbbed.

You nodded.

Sihtric helped turn you back over onto your front so he could press lips and tongue to your arse again, getting you slick and ready to take them both. Once he deemed you ready, Sihtric rearranged you to his liking.

He sat on the edge of the bath with his feet on the bench in the steaming water. He had your back to his chest and your legs spread wide with Osferth kneeling on the bench between them. They had your legs hooked over the crook of Sihtric’s elbows and they both helped balanced your weight as they lowered you onto Sihtric's cock. He wasn't as thick as Finan was but he was longer and the feeling of him filling your arse was strange. It didn't hurt, you were too relaxed from three orgasms and Sihtric's ministrations to get you ready but you weren't sure if you liked it.

At least, not until Osferth brushed teasing fingers over your nub, the surprisingly confident touch sending heat to your core and you moaned as you started to relax. it finally started to feel good as the two men lifted and lowered you with ease between them.

Sihtric fucked you a little faster, a little harder and Osferth slipped two fingers into your dripping cunt. They were long and nimble but stayed inside you only for a short while before he withdrew them so he could shift closer and pressed his cock inside you instead.

You were full to near bursting, the feeling overwhelming as they alternated thrusting inside of you. Your most sensitive spot being stimulated in a way you had never experienced before and you couldn't stop the way you went completely boneless between them, the way your lips fell open and the most lewd moans poured out.

There was no way that the other patrons of the bathhouse couldn't hear the noises you were making but you didn't care. You didn't care about the rumours that would spread across the town, the dirty looks you would receive. All you cared about was how good it felt to finally be fucked by your men.

Your not sure how much time had past but both Sihtric and Osferth were fucking you harder and harder. Their rhythm faltered as they neared their peaks. Suddenly a truly lustful thought flooded your mind and you couldn't stop yourself from giving it voice.

“In me please!” You begged, loudly, “I want you to finish in me, both of you!”

Your words served to be the last push they needed and you moaned as your insides were flooded with heat. They filled you to the brim, seed dripping hotly from your used holes as they pulled their softening cocks from you and left a milky trail in the hot water.

You didn't peak again while pressed between them, too many sensations left you overstimulated but your cunt throbbed, and you debated reaching down to finish yourself when Sihtric moved you from his lap and settled you against the stone tiles once more. The stones felt cool on your heated flesh and you sighed as the Dane knelt on the bench at your feet and buried his face between your thighs. He lapped at you, ate at your cunt like he was starving for you. Like he hadn't just fucked you full of his seed, cleaning out the mess that both men had left behind.

He was focused on his task, focused on pushing you over into the abyss one last time and soon your legs were shaking and you were whining, breathless and desperate, so close. Two thick fingers slid into your aching cunt and his lips wrapped around your nub and it was over. Your thighs slammed shut around his head as you rode it out against his tongue, mouth open in a soundless scream as you thrashed in his hold. Your fingers clenched tightly in his hair, hard enough that your fingers ached.

Sihtric moaned against your cunt and just let you use him.

Finally you relaxed your legs from their vice grip around Sihtric's ears and you pushed his head away, pleasure giving way and the stimulation became too much.

“Was that good lady?” Sihtric asked, a cocky grin on his face, his chin wet with the evidence of how much you had enjoyed yourself.

You laughed at his attitude but answered honestly all the same. “That was good, that was very good.”

You are distracted by the sound of splashing water and moaning. You looked over to see Uhtred and Finan locked in a passionate embrace against the opposite wall of the bath. Their hips grinding together, chasing release. They didn't seem to mind the audience, in fact when Uhtred noticed you watching he moaned even louder.

It was over quickly and they stained each other with seed.

It was beautiful and you hoped that next time you could watch and proper enjoy the sight of your men fucking each other.

It was Osferth who helped you get cleaned up. The perfect gentleman as he ran a soapy cloth over your skin and washed away what remained of your activities.

It took a long time for the strength to return to your limbs and the first thing you did was cup the baby monk's face between your palms and brought his mouth to yours. He let you control the kiss, the boldness you saw as he had fucked you given way to his more submissive and timid nature. You didn't mind, it was nice to press your tongue into his mouth and explore it leisurely. There was no heat, no lead up to something more.

You didn’t break apart until a cleared throat broke your daze and you saw Sihtric had brought a towel and your clothing which earned the Dane a bright smile that he returned.

Osferth helped you out of the water and dried you off, still the perfect gentleman in face of your nudity and helped you redress.

You hissed as the rough fabric of your tunic scraped against your nipples, rubbed raw from mouths and the stone tiles.

“Next time we are doing this in a proper bed.”

#fic recs #the last kingdom #x reader #finan x reader #osferth x reader #sihtric x reader #uhtred x reader #coccham squad x reader #kirstin's chronicles

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seungminsbestywesty · 7 months ago

Text

Sugar on the Rim vol. I

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

warnings: implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), mentions of sex, smut in next part

You twist the stem of the wine glass around between your fingers slowly. Your chin rests atop your knees as you stare vacantly at the tiny puddle left of the drink. You could go refill it, but then you’d have to go back out to the main room and man…you really do not want to do that. So you’ll sit here, swiping your tongue across the bumps of the roof of your mouth as if it's a fascinating new discovery.

The creak of hinges has you shooting upright, your back thumping against the stair step behind you. You’re not immediately sure how to act as though it’s normal that you’re sitting in the stairwell outside the fundraiser rather than in it, fraternizing with old and new money alike. You freeze, trying to relax your posture so it doesn’t look like you’re alarmed at the sight of another person, but not so relaxed that you look as bored as you are.

Your neutrality stutters when you glance up to find the host of the fundraiser. The billionaire host of the fundraiser. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire host of the fundraiser. Your posture straightens right back up and your mouth snaps shut as you make eye contact.

Should you stand up?

No, he’s rich, not royalty.

You are in his house though—

He looks you over contemplatively, “I don’t know you,” It’s not accusatory, rather he says it like it’s something interesting.

You perk up at that, immediately formulating reasons to justify your presence. “Oh, uh, no—” the words nearly spill out of your mouth all at once. You clear your throat, “I’m just a plus one for my boss—”

“Who’s your boss?” he asks, relaxed.

“Arthur Mullins.”

He looks to the side, squinting, “Mullins…he’s the executive at Williamson Industries, yes?”

You nod and he returns the gesture, slower, like he’s processing through something. “I’m Bruce,” he says warmly after a moment, holding his hand out to you.

You nod before you can even think to get any words to come out, “I—yeah, I know,” you accept his hand, shaking it as you tell him your name.

There’s a slight glint in his eye when he hears your name, and he repeats it quietly to himself. “A pretty name.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Just your name. But rather than fill him in on that fascinating tidbit, you let the sentence die off.

He smiles kindly anyway, “What are you doing in here? Party’s out there, or so they tell me.”

“I…I’m hiding in here,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans in towards you slightly, lowering his voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret—so am I,” he smiles at you like it’s easy.

Your grin matches his, “It’s your party,”

“That’s why I need to hide.” He tilts his head, “Doesn’t give you much of an excuse though, does it?”

“I don’t know anybody here.”

He puckers his bottom lip contemplatively, “Your boss.”

You shake your head, “I’m just his assistant. I’m pretty sure he just brought me as a precaution in case he needed a designated driver.”

He laughs at that, “Based on the way I’ve seen Mullins’ attempts to operate, his assistant would have to be a hell of a lot more important than just a designated driver.”

Well, he’s certainly right about that. Your boss doesn’t exactly “have it together” per se. He’s an unorganized man with little to justify his importance in Gotham, so he tends to insist on taking on more responsibility than he has any business having. Not to mention, he’s a bit of a try-hard and you’re constantly left to sweep up the pieces of his reputation that he shattered himself. Not to say he’s necessarily unprofessional, he just will do anything and everything to prove he belongs in any given space. It’s honestly a bit exhausting to watch. It’s more exhausting to try and convince him that the exchange went well afterwards.

You nod slowly, eyes on his shoes. “Mr. Mullins has…a unique approach to business. It does usually leave me fairly busy, I’ll give you that.” You take a quick deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. “But that means I occasionally get to go to fancy parties where I don’t know anyone, so..”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he ribs, “Or don’t you agree?”

You smile coyly, “I would never be so bold.”

“I don’t mind boldness. For example, the reason I came in here is because he spotted me.”

You laugh at that, “Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Mr. Wayne,” you suppress your smile as you pause, choosing your words carefully. “I think he’s just networking.” He doesn’t have the money to give.

He nods surely, “He’s definitely just networking.” He really doesn’t have the money to give. You allow just the faintest wisp of a smile to adorn your face as you look down again.

You check the time and realize that you’ve been hiding away for too long and that if he hasn’t already, your boss will notice soon. You sigh quietly to yourself, “I should..”

He turns his head to the closed door where the chatter can be heard from beyond, sighing in defeat as he shakes his head looking back at you. “So should I.”

You feel a bit insecure as you stand, the gown you’re wearing is pretty but it is very much affordable and you’re sure someone as wealthy as Bruce Wayne would know the difference.

If he does notice he makes no deal of it, motioning you forward gallantly to walk ahead of him.

He follows after you, hands behind his back. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to distract him while I run for the bar?”

It’s busy, even for a Sunday afternoon, and you have to sidestep past someone nearly every step you take. You stick next to the windows of the line of boutiques down the road, trying to balance window shopping and not bumping into other pedestrians.

You're in a nicer district of Gotham, truthfully an area you don't quite belong in. So far you’ve only managed to find a couple shops that weren’t several ranges above your budget.

A call of your name has you blinking rapidly and turning around as if you’re lost. It doesn’t take long for you to pick the six foot two billionaire out of the crowd and it’s only half a second longer before you realize he’s walking towards you. A few people collide shoulders with you as they move past thoughtlessly, no regard for the personal space of the idiot that stopped in the flow of traffic.

You let him approach a couple feet closer before you ask him, “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Wayne?” The presence of his figure in front of you allows for a break from being bumped into, as he seemingly makes for a far more easily seen and intentionally avoided target.

He sways a bit, “Bruce. I’m not sure yet,” he looks down to the couple of bags you’re holding, extending his hand out. “May I?”

It takes you just a moment to move past your surprise at the request, allowing him to hold them for you. “Are you in a rush?”

You shake your head quicker than you meant to, “No, I—not at all,” he gestures his head forward, allowing you to walk before him.

You traipse ahead in silence for a moment before deciding against biting your tongue, “What exactly is it you’re not sure about?”

He raises his voice a bit so you can hear him over the crowd, “Whether or not you’ve got plans on the 19th.”

You look back at him, “What’s on the 19th?”

He stops with you as you admire a set of jewelry inside a window display, “We’re hosting a gala for something or something else, hopefully less boring than the fundraiser.”

You blink, “You’re inviting me?” He nods. “Why?”

“I could use someone who wants to be there even less than I do.”

He said it so casually it takes you a second to even register his meaning. You blink, face contorting defensively, “That’s not—” you can barely make out the smile on his face as he continues on walking.

You shake your composure back together and trail after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t think Mr. Mullins would be very happy to hear that I’m attending a business gala without him.”

He shakes his head as he scans over the crowd, “He can’t fire you for that.”

“He’ll try.” He would. A petty little man, he is.

He scans across the rows of clothes leisurely. “Well, then he can speak to me about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for business.” And then he just lets that sentence linger.

It takes you a moment to recover from those words and begin to start processing the world around you again. After a few more feet down the sidewalk he pulls you gently to the side by your lower arm, out of the rush of traffic, and looks at you dead on, “What do you think?”

You try not to waver under the weight of the eye contact, “I don’t…uh, I don’t really have…” you look down, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say the words.

He glances into the store window next to you and raises his eyebrows, “Well then I’d say we’re in the right place.”

You can’t manage to tell him that this store is definitely far too expensive for you, walking through the door as he opens it for you, albeit apprehensively.

Well. Up close window shopping is more fun anyways.

The spotless white of the floors and walls has you intimidated, and just as much so by less by the no doubt designer clothes lining the walls. The saleswomen all look pretty highbrow themselves, hair up in tight buns and uniforms chic.

You only break from gawking at the store to look behind you at Bruce. You note the way his eyes roam around blindly, looking for something and clearly having no means to narrow down where it might be. You take one more glance around, immediately finding the women's section with no such difficulty.

“This way.” You say, nodding your head over to the left. He recovers nicely and lets you lead the way towards the section of dresses. You peer back at him, “You don’t seem like someone that does much of his own shopping.”

Thankfully, he laughs at that. “Well, special occasions.”

You keep your gaze ahead this time, asking as casually as you can, “Is this a special occasion?”

He hums in consideration, “I’d say so.”

You stop upon approaching the dress section, taking in the immediately stunning display of options.

“What are you doing up here anyways?” you ask, hand brushing across a particularly plush dress.

“Ah, I was headed to a meeting.”

“Oh,” you frown, looking at him. “Don’t you need to go?”

He shakes his head with a puckered lower lip, “No.”

A few seemingly heiresses roam down the aisle mindlessly, not caring much that you’re in their path.

Bruce sees them before you do, knowing well that they were not going to excuse themselves. “Sweetheart,” he nudges you gently to the side, closer to him as the group passes. His hand remained open-palmed and flat as he guided you to the side, seemingly very careful not to touch you with uninvited boldness. Though you’re quite shaken by the chivalry of the gesture, a brazen touch wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

As your arm brushes against a rack of clothing your gaze follows, met with something rather appealing.

Bruce is quick to notice you admiring the sleek black dress that looks like something you’d see a model wearing on a runway. “You like that one?”

“It’s nice, yeah,” you murmur, not really thinking. You flip the price tag over and your face drops. “It’s $800.”

He nods thoughtfully, “We can find a nicer one,” he says, though it’s clear he knows exactly what your problem with the price tag was.

“I can’t—” you restart, “I would never have a reason to wear something this nice again.”

He shakes his head coolly, “That’s alright.”

Your shoulders drop and your head tilts seriously, “It’s not, though.”

“You like it?” He looks you in the eyes, his own searching for a truthful answer.

“I mean, of course, but it—”

He nods affirmatively, “Then we’ll get it. Problem solved.” He turns his back to the rack, casually observing the rest of the store goers. “Pick your size.”

Apparently not one to argue, you thumb through the row until you find one that should fit.

You sigh, realizing that you’re running out of time to mention that you don’t have $800 to spend on a dress. “I can’t—”

“You don’t need to,” he says simply as he takes the dress off the rack and drapes it across his arm, making his way towards the salescounter.

You try to stop your mouth from hanging open as you follow, “It really is okay, I don’t need—”

His grin cuts you off, just in time for you to hear him mutter, “Sweet girl..” to himself. You stop right in your tracks, feeling very thankful that he’s not looking at you right now because you’re certain the look on your face would give you away.

He still doesn’t face you as he calls out, “Come on,” as he continues on.

Obviously you’re not stupid. You know what type of intentions a billionaire playboy must have with a younger girl that he doesn’t even really know. However, if said billionaire is offering to buy you a pretty dress…no, you’re not sleeping with him because he bought you a dress—of course not—and you’ve made absolutely no promises to do so, so what’s the harm in letting him? Really?

And yeah, maybe it’s a plus that he’s not bad looking, but how is that your fault?

You stand a bit awkwardly next to him as he puts his card in the machine, not even glancing at the outrageous number, and declines the offer for the receipt.

As you exit the store together and stand at the doors as he hands your original two bags back to you along with the new shiny black one that on its own looks like something people would pay for.

“You will be there?” he asks, eyes more hopeful than you were prepared for.

You nod, gesturing the bag up, “Well you just bought me the dress.”

He shrugs that off, “I would’ve bought you the dress anyways.”

You linger in the midst of the ado wearing a dress that you feel far too overshadowed by, fidgeting with the half empty wine glass in your hand. Unfortunately, this time around you were invited by the host of the event and it would be extra rude to run away and hide. That doesn’t stop you from considering it, though.

A hand sliding across your lower back has you momentarily startled, and for reasons you couldn’t quite verbalize, you’d naturally assumed it was Bruce. The disappointment rings strong when you turn around to be met with the sight of an even older man, who looks considerably wine drunk.

“Hello there, Miss.,” The words themselves are polite but the salacious smile on his face and the way his eyes have no trouble roaming your body gives you a solid idea of what this conversation is going to entail.

“Hello,” you fake a polite, tight smile and shift your attention to the rest of the room.

This does nothing to deter him, as he takes a sizable step back into your line of sight. “Having a nice time?”

The man is clearly from money, if his attire didn’t give it away his attitude sure did. There’s an heir of entitlement around him, like he’s inherently deservant of your attention—a quality you were notably surprised to not have found in Bruce.

You give him your faux-smile again, this time tighter but half a second longer for the sake of politeness. A rookie mistake.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, gesturing to the bar.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say, gesturing your wine glass up.

A momentary flash of irritation crosses his face, but to his credit, he does a better job recovering from it than you would have expected. Though, that’s not really saying much. “Well, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone here,”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Both of your heads snap to the side, finding a much more welcome surprise than you’d previously received.

Your counterpart's posture straightens immediately, “Mr. Wayne,” he fawns, “What a lovely event you’ve thrown. I’m sure the Bernsteins will be appreciative.”

Bruce hums, eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…”

The man startles and rushes to finish off his sentence, “Alexander Watson, senior executive to the accounting department for the research wing of the company.”

He nods slowly, no recognition actually present in his eyes. “Ah. The research wing of the company that just blew fifteen million dollars on prototype self-operating cell phones.”

You’re trying hard to fight the smile creeping up on your face.

“What exactly is a self-operating cell phone?”

Watson’s face drops, hurrying to justify his approval of the proposal’s funding. As he rambles, Bruce’s gaze lowers to where Watson has once again placed his hand on your hip, though he’s not close enough to you for it to rest fully or naturally. You don’t know him well but you can say confidently that he doesn’t look pleased.

He looks back up to Watson, attitude challenging. “Surely you’re not poking around where you’re unwelcome?”

Watson stutters at that, blinking and shaking his head quickly. “No, no, of course not! I was just hoping to provide the young lady with some company. That’s all.”

“And so you have.”

“I—,” about two steps behind in this conversation, Watson finally decides to retreat, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Wayne.” He bows his head and shuffles away back into the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” you smile knowingly, turning to him. “How are you?”

The hardness of his gaze fades quickly as he takes in your appearance, quite liking how you wear the dress you’d picked out.

“Things are looking up,” he smiles, “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” you glance over to where Watson has made his way to the bar, likely about to down an entire glass. “Mr., uh, Mr. Watson makes quite the impression.”

His smile turns a bit sullen, “You know last year he tried to convince the board that battery-powered battery chargers were going to be the next big thing?”

You blink, tilting your head, “Thought you didn’t know who he was.”

His eyes are fixed on the wall as he tugs the corner of his lip down, knowing he’s been caught but not really caring. “I’m sorry to have been away for so long, it seems everyone needs my attention at these things.”

“At the gala that you threw? I’d imagine so.”

He rolls past that smoothly, “You’re having a good time?”

“I am,” you say with a confirming head bob.

He regards the room with a numb expression, “You know, I think I’m getting bored with all of this.”

You smile at him, brow furrowed, “It’s only been an hour.”

He looks at you, eyes wide. “It’s only been an hour?” He’s exaggerating his surprise to make you smile, and it works.

“I think we should go,” he says lower.

You stare at him, bemused. “You still have a whole room full of guests.”

He shrugs, “They’ll filter out on their own eventually.”

He clocks your hesitation easily, accurately noting it to be more out of politeness than actually wanting to stay at the party. “What, you’re not ready to leave?”

You look around at all the mostly old, posh guests, disinterested small talk evident all across the room. You take a breath, “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

He smiles and leads you out a side door and through a corridor that’s significantly longer than you’d expected.

“Do you always ditch your parties this early?” you ask, following closely.

He makes a sharp right at the next doorway, “If I can manage it.”

You look around at the high wooden ceilings and grand furniture. “Aren’t some of them friends of yours?”

He shakes his head, “My friends aren’t here.”

You frown at that, “Then why do you throw them at all?”

“Why did you show up last weekend?”

You nod slowly, understanding. “It’s your job.”

He returns the nod, adding, “Only difference is, there’s not a chance in hell you get paid enough for the work you do for Mullins.”

For the sake of maintaining your wishful facade of professionalism, you’re going to not acknowledge that incredibly accurate statement. Instead you smile politely and continue on walking. He seems to get the implication, returning it with an even brighter adornment.

“Well, money’s money,” you say wryly.

His smile fades a bit, “You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.”

You shrug, “A day in the life,”

He looks sullen upon hearing that, with more sympathy than you’d have expected from someone of his stature. He’s done nothing if not surprise you, though.

“Here,” he says, taking hold of the handle of a glass door. It opens to a garden, lit up beautifully by the moon and outdoor light. A fountain sits in the middle, water rhythmically gushing out of the top and trickling down the sides. The bite of the Gotham night air burns at your cheeks a bit and you find yourself thankful the dress you’d chosen is so long.

Bruce leads the way to an expensive marble bench positioned nicely in front of it, allowing you to sit first before following suit. Your hands find a place in your lap, clasped together awkwardly in an attempt to find warmth through contact.

It takes Bruce less than ten seconds to stand, remove his suit jacket, and drape it over your shoulders before sitting back down. The material is thicker and warmer than you would’ve expected, surely reminiscent of the perks of being owned by a billionaire.

He doesn’t look at you to acknowledge the grateful expression on your face, simply carrying on like it didn’t happen. “Was hoping it was warmer,” he murmurs.

Your focus momentarily goes to the icy cold stone of the bench under your thighs, initially finding it uncomfortable before deciding the coolness actually felt quite soothing. You remove your gaze from the gray stone and turn your head to find Bruce already focused on you.

You start to say something, though you’re not sure what it would’ve been, when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down.

Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

His eyes stay on your lower lip as he murmurs, “You’re a pretty girl, you know that?”

God, he’s a professional.

You look up at him and refrain from saying anything, waiting to see if he follows it up with something that will make you regret agreeing to coming out here with him.

He doesn’t.

You shift, moving your hands off your lap to rest on the stone under you. “You can’t just do this—”

He smiles and lowers his chin to look you in the eyes, “Then what can I do for you?”

“You—” you blink rapidly, “Stop it.”

His coy beam persists, “Stop what?”

You raise your gaze up to him ever so slightly, a pouty expression across your face that you’re trying to sell as serious. “You’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous?” He tilts his head down further, a ghost of a smile echoing on his lips, “I don’t mean to, sweet girl.”

Your eyes drop to the ground, biting your tongue. “Yeah.”

His simper grows, “I’m serious. I’d hate to scare away a new friend.”

You laugh at that and he perks up a bit at the sound, “What? We’re not friends?”

You cock your head to the side, “You’re the one who said none of your friends are here.”

He hums, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“You think so?” You should probably stop flirting so much.

“Yeah,” he leans in a bit closer, “I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” his hand finds a place atop yours.

Your eyes flicker across his face as he closes in, “What if I don’t want to be yours?”

His eyes are on your lips, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

You take a slow deep breath, “Your intentions are blurry.”

He smiles lightly, amused. “We’ll have to clear that up then, won’t we?” His lips are inches away and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You look up at him eyes wide, barely processing his words as you nod. He gently grasps your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up. His other hand finds the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you with intention. Your hands hover in the air for a second before holding onto his forearms.

He breaks the kiss only to give you another sweet one right after. Your mouths remain close when it’s over, eyes still shut, trying to catch your breath. You stay like that for a moment until he kisses you once more on your cheekbone before pulling away. His hands drop to rest on your knees, the weight of them gentle.

He hums lowly, “Sweet thing..”

Being under the heaviness of his gaze leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s starting to get you concerned with the potential levity and implications of kissing him. The expectations.

“You…” you stare down at where his hands meet your skin, not quite sure that you actually meant to start that sentence.

“What?” he frowns, brow pinched. Your chin lowers further as your mouth forms a tight line. He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. What is it?” he asks gently.

It takes a surge of willpower for you to get the sentence out, “You just want to sleep with me..”

He frowns harder at that, pulling back a bit. “No. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m not trying to lure you in just to toss you out right after.”

That makes you look up again. His voice has a sincerity to it that you weren’t prepared for.

He continues, “I would like to, yes. Yeah. You’re beautiful, of course I would, but..” he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you, “No, that’s not the most important thing to me.”

You break eye contact again, thinking over his words. If that’s not the most important thing to him, what is? You can’t think of what else he could possibly want from you, a billionaire who could have anything he wants..the only thing you could have to offer in his eyes is sex.

Right?

He exhales, “If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car. No hard feelings.” He nudges your chin up gently so you’ll look at him, but he gives you the freedom to fight against it if you wanted to.

You let him move you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he says it like it’s automatic. You physically can’t help but roll your eyes at the corniness of it. He doubles down, though, “Seriously. Anything.”

You smile in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Alright,” he returns your smile, straightening, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you need a ride home?”

You blink at him, “I’m going home?”

“You are,” he nods softly, “Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

He nods again, more like he’s working through something in his head. “Okay. You’re going to go home and think through what you want. If you decide you want to, come back here next Saturday.” he stands up, extending his hand out to you, “Then you can let me know what else you want and we can get to work on that too.”

You start to shake your head, “I can—”

He drops his chin seriously, “Think on it.”

You relent easily, taking his hand and coming to a stand.

“Alright?” Again, his question is genuine. He does really want to know if you’re on board with this plan.

Already going against his request, you agree without a thought, “Okay.”

He starts to lead you back over to the garden door with a head nod and a kind smile.

It ultimately was not a decision you had to think very hard on.

You’d considered every scenario of how this could play out and none of them ended with regret as far as you could guess.

You’ll still admit though, there was one scenario you had missed, apparently, which is why you were immeasurably confused when you showed up and he invited you to play chess.

He’s not wearing a fancy three piece suit this time, but his clothes are still very nice. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, you’re able to see the manor more clearly than you had been the other night. It really is a beautiful home, clearly very old and charmed, but there’s a lot of little details of character and history scattered around. There’s portraits and photographs of his parents from when he was young and furniture decorated with trinkets all throughout, kept absolutely spotless and dust free. Everything is neat and tidy but there’s still traces of the house being lived in with the patched throw pillows and worn carpets. Still, it’s very, very placid.

You’ve met new money plenty of times over the course of dealing with countless businessmen for Mr. Mullins but old money is something entirely different. You don’t really have a frame of reference here. New money is almost always brash and demanding, they like things done quickly and correctly the first time around. They’re usually not very interested in hearing what you have to say (even if it would save them a lot of trouble) and prefer it when the assistants women keep their mouths shut. Bruce has proven to be very different from these standards already and you’re not sure where to begin with placing new ones.

You’re about halfway through a second game, and while you’re not awful at chess, you get the impression that he’s easing up on you considerably.

You sit on the floor in front of a short coffee table, the game having no clear lead so far.

“I think this is stressing me,” you mumble, no actual weight behind your words.

“It’s just chess,” he says, not looking up from the board.

You watch him move his knight forward as you ask, “And that’s all we’re doing?”

“As it stands, yes,” he looks up at you, though you don’t return his gaze.

“Yeah,” you sigh, sliding your rook, “But later?”

“Later?”

“Well, you said...” you meet his eyes, “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

He nods slowly, “I do. Is that alright?”

You consider it for a moment. You already knew that, if you really weren’t okay with it you wouldn’t have come here. And yeah, the idea makes you a little shaky, but in a good way.

“Yes,” you tell him, moving your queen forward two spaces.

“Are you sure?” he presses, moving to sit on the side of the table rather than behind it.

You do the same, sitting on your knees. “Yeah, I just..” you shift your weight, eyes wandering. “I’m not…overly experienced.”

He just smiles at that, like it’s endearing. Your words didn’t quite convey your meaning but your tone did. In any case, he understands the implication. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not going to throw you in the deep end.”

You nod, looking down again.

“You’re nervous,” he comments.

“No, I’m—I mean, maybe,” your voice is barely a murmur by the end of the sentence.

He’s quiet for a moment, observing the way you fiddle with your rings. “What if we get you something pretty to wear? Something that makes you feel pretty. Whatever you want.”

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, opening and pulling out a lump of cash without even looking. He holds the money out to you wordlessly and you can see from the bill on the outside that it’s at least a couple hundred dollars.

You shake your head instantly, “I can’t take that.”

He doesn’t put the money down but his eyes turn to begging. “Please. I just want you to feel good.”

“Bruce—”

He wavers a bit at that but it’s more of a falter than you’ve seen from him before so it’s easy to take notice of. “What?”

He shrugs barely, “I like when you say my name.”

Your eye contact holds for a moment and your resolve starts to shake almost instantly.

You exhale, “I’m not taking more than a hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Bruce.”

He smiles and picks out some of the cash and pockets it, handing you the rest. You don’t comment on the fact that it’s a hundred and fifty more than you’d agreed on.

You look down at the money in your hand like it’s a foreign object, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to get.”

His thumbs start to rub reassuring circles by the bend of your knees, “Anything you want,” he tells you. “What do you like? Silk, lace, cotton, anything.”

You look up, tilting your head at him with a furrowed brow. “It doesn’t matter what I like, th—”

“It only matters what you like,” He says seriously, lowering himself to meet your gaze. “I’ll love it, no matter what you pick. Don’t worry about that.”

You lean forward a bit instinctually, “Okay.”

His eyes scan across your face in something that you can only recognize as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, voice even quieter.

Your eyes go to his mouth and you can only manage a nod, lips already parted.

He moves forward not a second later, kissing you with more fire than you’d gotten to see the other night. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing lightly as you hook one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

You hear the clatter of chess pieces falling over as he moves nearer to you, large frame leaning over you. You push up on your knees, meeting his lips up at his level. His hands caress around your hips as the kiss gets deeper.

You just start to fumble with the hem of his shirt when he takes your hands in his, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he smiles, nudging you back with little force.

You groan, “Why?”

He barks out a laugh at that, stroking your hips again. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on the floor.”

“Then let's go somewhere else,” you nod up towards the stairs.

He shakes his head, that soft smile still playing on his lips. “Not tonight.”

You sit back on your heels again, frowning.

He brushes your hair back, murmuring, “No. But for now, I'll kiss you ‘til you can’t think if that’s what you want.”

You really hope you didn’t perk up at that as much as you think you did.

part two

🌾🌽 i heard a rumor that if you like without reblogging your crops will be cursed but hey what do i know 🌾🌽

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne/reader #bruce wayne/you #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #batman x you #batman imagine #batman smut #batman/reader #batman/you #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc smut #batfam smut

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seungminsbestywesty · 8 months ago

Text

I LOVE THEM DO MUCH

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 4)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 4.581

Masterlist

Eloise's POV

A couple of hours ago my family arrived at Aubrey Hall and my youngest silings were running around the place like wild animals. My brothers have disappeared and Daphne is with mother, Lady Danbury, Kate and Edwina talking about the season somewhere around the house.

Which left me alone, sitting on an outdoor chair in the mansion's back garden and somewhat bored.

I did not want to participate in the conversation with my sister, mother and others; since the subject does not really interest me. I'd rather be with my brothers, but as soon as we set foot in Aubrey Hall two hours ago they disappeared and have shown no sign of life.

And I'm not going to be running all over the place, like Gregory and Hyacinth were doing.

I just pray that something interesting happens and it can keep me busy at least for a while. Because if this goes on like this, I'll end up cutting myself with the pages of my books and falling apart in the living room floor.

Apparently my prayers are answered, when one of the butlers appears and speaks to me.

XY: Miss Bridgerton, Prince Y/n of Hannover has just arrived and is waiting for you in the hall.- he informed me and I practically jumped out of my seat.

Eloise: That's great. - I comment happily and walking quickly towards the entrance of the mansion.

XY: If you don't need anything else, we'll take the prince's objects to his room assigned by Lady Bridgerton.- he comments when we reach the hall.

Eloise: We don't need anything else, thank you.- I thank him and after a slight bow he takes Y/n's luggage along with another man. -I thought you were never going to get there.- I say amused, crossing my arms and looking at the prince.

Y/n: I had a slight setback.- He informed me without much detail.

Eloise: What kind of setback? - I ask curiously, seeing the amusement in his eyes.

Y/n: One that doesn't concern you.- he answers me with grace and I just look at him badly. -Now, will you grant me the wish to give me a guided tour of the mansion or do I have to ask someone from the service?- he asks amused, raising an eyebrow and looking me straight in the eye.

Eloise: Ask someone from the service.- I answer challengingly, looking for a fun and entertaining reaction from him.

Y/n: I'll do that then.- he assures, leaning over and trying to walk towards the stairs.

Eloise: Where do you think you're going? - I ask amused running towards him and grabbing his arm to stop him.

Y/n: To ask if someone offers to give me a guided tour, since a certain Bridgerton doesn't want to and I don't want to get lost in the place.- he answers humorously and I look at him with narrowed eyes.

Eloise: Idiot.- I muttered hitting his arm. -Now follow me.- I order him and start walking towards the main hall.

I don't turn to see if he's following me or not, but I can hear his hurried footsteps and I smile helplessly, not knowing the reason for said smile.

POV Y/n

I don't know when I went from receiving a tour of the mansion to being in the huge back garden playing pall mall, but here I am now.

Daphne: We all know how the pall mall works.- she assures everyone present. - The first to choose the deck and strike first will be our guest Y/n.- she points to me with her hand and I look at her surprised.

Y/n: I guess thanks.- I appreciate it. -Which one does Eloise usually choose?- I asked Benedict in a whisper quickly.

Benedict: Yellow.- he whispers back to me with his hand in front of his mouth so that no one notices.

I nod surreptitiously and walk over to where all the decks are. I look at each deck and once my eyes land on the yellow one, I reach out without hesitation.

As my fingers wrap around the wood, I look up, meeting Eloise's blue gaze. I smile wickedly as I raised the mallet and I see the scowl on her face.

Y/n: Yellow is my favorite color. - I lie with a smile without taking my eyes off Eloise's.

The rest practically fight over the rest of the decks, before we start the game and the fights between the brothers are present.

Benedict: Eloise don't cheat.- he accuses his sister, who is moving her ball subtly and secretly with her foot.

Y/n: So besides being clumsy at dancing, you're a cheater at the game. - I whisper leaning towards her, so that only she can hear me.

Eloise: Shut up.- she growls at me pushing my chest with her hand.

Colin: Observe and learn people.- he says, positioning himself and hitting the ball with his mallet, but it doesn't go through the hoop.

Anthony: Sorry, what were you saying?- he asks his brother with an amused smile.

Kate: Don't you laugh so much.- she tells her husband, causing a bad face in him and laughter in the rest.

Daphne: None of you should laugh.- she assures everyone, preparing to her his ball with the mallet. -Because I plan to win as always.- she says confidently, hitting the ball and getting it through the hoop.

Benedict: Hey, I'm still in the game.- he reminds his sister with an amused smile.

Eloise: And me.- she assures them placing herself in the middle of everyone. -This year I plan to win.- she tells us all with confidence and I can't help but smile at her confidence.

We continue playing for a while longer, until the game ends and I end up winning to the surprise of everyone present. Although there is no surprise on my part, since I am a very good player and I am passionate about sports.

Y/n: And how about your victory Eloise? - I ask her amused while we all have dinner together.

Eloise: Very funny.- she says sarcastically looking at me with narrowed eyes. -But I know you cheated.- she threatens me seriously.

Y/n: And can you explain to me what cheating are you accusing me of? - I ask her amused, taking a sip of my wine.

Elosie: I don't know, yet.- she answered thoughtfully. -But I'm going to find out how you cheated to win and take away my victory.- she asures me and I just smile delighted.

Y/n: I'll be waiting then.- I assure her with a friendly smile.

The rest of dinner is spent talking to Benedict and Colin about minor trivia. We also make sure to taunt Eloise a bit, loud enough for her to hear us so we can tease her a bit.

When dinner is over, I sneak up to Lady Bridgerton and ask to speak to her in private. We entered the main library of the mansion and we both took a seat in the armchairs of the room.

Violet: And tell me my Lord, what is the reason for this conversation? - she asks me with evident interest.

Y/n: I wanted to talk about a serious and more important topic with you.- I answer trying to hide my nervousness.

Violet: Well, you will say.- she nods giving me the floor.

Y/n: As you may have noticed, I've been spending a lot of time with your daughter and it's clear that we've become somewhat close.- I start seeing how she nods with a small smile. -And I don't want to disrespect you or your family at any time.- I say trying to think of how to explain myself.

Violet: And you haven't.- she assures me with a friendly smile.

Y/n: I'm glad to hear that.- I nod with a nervous smile. -That's why I wanted to talk to you first, because you are Eloise's mother and it seemed the most appropriate thing to do in this situation.- I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. -I wanted to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.- I ask directly.

Violet: Oh my god! - she exclaims in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand.

The room remains completely silent for a few moments, where I play with my hands as a sign of nervousness and uncertainty about the response of the woman in front of me.

Y/n: So what do you say? - I ask her a bit uncomfortable by the silence.

Violet: Of course I'll give you my daughter's hand.- she nods energetically. -As long as Eloise agrees to the proposition, I have nothing against it.- she confirms and I can't help but release the air retained inside me.

Y/n: I'm glad to know that your answer is positive. - I smile letting the retained nerves dissipate from my body.

Now I just have to propose to Eloise publicly and organize the wedding. Since thanks to our agreement, I know that Eloise will agree to marry me and there will be no problem with that part.

Violet: And you already have chosen the ring? - She asks me interested, leaning forward in a show of interest.

Y/n: Yes.- I nod, taking the black velvet box out of my pocket. -What do you think?- I ask, opening the box and showing her the object inside.

Violet: Oh my god, it's so precious.- she whispers, taking the small box in her hands and looking at the ring in greater detail.

Y/n: My aunt gave it to me to propose to your daughter.- I comment, seeing the surprise in her eyes.

Violet: Has the queen chosen the ring for my daughter?- she asks surprised.

Y/n: More than that.- I commented with a slight smile. -That ring was one of the first that my uncle, the King, gave to my aunt many years ago. The emerald is my aunt's favorite stone and she thought that the ring had a deep meaning, so it would be the perfect ring for my future wife. - I tell her and I can see a different shine in her eyes.

Violet: And she's right. Rings with meaning are more unique than any recently bought. - she nods, giving me back the box with the ring.

Y/n: So with your permission, tomorrow I'll ask Eloise for her hand. - I nod, putting the velvet box back in my jacket pocket.

Violet: I just hope my daughter says yes, because it would be a pleasure to have you as part of the family.- she tells me and we both get up, ending the conversation.

We left the library, saying goodnight and parting ways. I head towards the bedroom assigned to me and on the way I meet Eloise with her little sister.

In order not to arouse any kind of suspicion, I wish them both a good night and secretly nod to my future fiancée.

I can see her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what my nod means and she gives me a slight nod letting me know she's understood.

Now I just have to think about how to ask for her hand tomorrow and do it in a way so that her family believes that we are really in love. But with how good of an actress Eloise is, I'm sure everyone will believe us right away without any problem.

Eloise's POV

I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? This is simply a trade and there is no reason to be nervous.

I just have to say a simple yes and the rest of my life will be taken care of. I will be completely free and I will stop feeling any kind of pressure to get married or find a husband. It is a simple word that will open all doors for me.

This is a simple transaction, there are no feelings involved and that's why I don't understand the reason for my nerves.

My hands tremble as they caress the soft fabric of my white dress, feeling the softness and delicacy of silk.

Violet: You look beautiful honey.- she whispers looking at my reflection in the mirror over my shoulder.

Eloise: I'm not going out. - I deny energetically.

Violet: And why is that dear? - she asks me interested with a smile on her face.

Eloise: I don't know if I'm ready to get married.- I answer, feeling my heart beat faster.

Violet: Oh dear.- she sighs placing her hands on my arms. -It's the nerves that are speaking.- she assures me caressing my arms with affection.

Eloise: Why would I be nervous? - I ask confused, feeling a certain amount of comfort from her touch.

Violet: Because it's one of the most important days for a woman, darling.- she answers with an understanding look. -The day of my wedding with your father, I was trembling with nerves and anticipation. It is understandable to feel nervous on your wedding day and especially when you love the person you will marry.- she tries to comfort me and I avoid opening my eyes for the last part.

Eloise: How did you know you loved father? - I ask a little scared by her answer.

Violet: I wouldn't know how to explain it.- she sighs with a slight grimace. -What I do know is that every time I thought of him, a smile appeared on my face without even noticing it, my stomach turned when he was near me, my skin quivered every time he touched my hand and every time that I was doing something i liked; immediately I wanted to share it with him.- she tells me and I remain thoughtful.

I think about the times when a smile adorned my face when I thought of Y/n, about how being with him makes me enjoy someone else's company and the long talks we have.

I think about how an essential warmth invades my body when he is near me, when he smiles at me or when he brings me books thinking that I might like them.

I find that every time I read a new book, I think about whether he would like to read it so we can discuss it together.

Finally, I am aware of how in the few times he has touched my hand and kissed it, my body reacts to his touch. I can remember the pleasant tingling that runs through my body at his touch and it is now when I open my eyes in surprise.

Eloise: I love Y/n.- I murmured without really knowing what to do.

I feel my mind go around and around without really knowing how it happened. At what point have I gone from supporting Y/n, accepting his proposal and maintaining a friendly relationship, to loving him.

Violet: Why else would you have agreed to marry him?- she asks with a certain degree of amusement in her tone of voice.

Eloise: I have to talk to Y/n.- I say alarmed.

Violet: You'll see him at the altar in a few minutes and then you can talk to him all you want.- she assures me with a smile.

Eloise: No mom .- I deny turning around and looking around upset. -I need to talk to him now!- I assured him in a hurry trying to dodge her and go looking for him.

Violet: No, no, no.- she denies grabbing my arm and preventing me from leaving the room. -The groom can't see the bride before the wedding.- she immediately denies.

Eloise: You don't understand mom, I have to talk to him.- I beg desperately and a few seconds away from a desperate cry.

Violet: Honey, calm down.- she asks me, caressing my arms again. -Take a deep breath and inhale slowly.- she orders me and I nod trying to regulate my breathing.

Once I am calmer, my mother takes me to the sofa in one of the many rooms in the palace and makes me sit down.

Violet: Are you feeling better?- she asks me and I nod, taking a deep breath once more.

Eloise: Yes.- I murmur directing my gaze to my hands, which are still trembling and apparently my mother notices as she places her hands on mine.

Violet: You don't have to get upset darling, everything will be fine and you don't have to get so nervous.- she assures me. -You're just nervous, just breathe and try to relax.- she tells me and I nod trying to stop my hands from shaking.

We stay in silence for a few minutes, where I manage to calm down enough so that my hands stop shaking.

Some light knocks are heard at the door of the room and Benedict's head appears through it.

Benedict: Everything is ready.- he tells us entering the room. -They are waiting for the bride.- he says with a smile and I take a deep breath.

Violet: Are you ready? - she asks me and I am only able to nod. -Well then, let's get going.- she says getting up from the sofa and helping me to get up too.

I walk to where my brother is, who immediately smiles at me and gives me his arm to intertwine with mine.

With each step I take toward the ceremony room, my heart pounding in my ears and my breathing becoming heavy. I swallow heavily, when my brother stops in front of the closed living room doors and looks at me for approval.

I stay for a few moments watching the big white doors of the room, as soon as they open everything will be real and I'll be walking towards my future husband.

I don't know what to do.

If I go through with the plan and say yes, I'll be marrying the man I love. But he doesn't love me and it doesn't seem fair.

And on the other hand, if I decide to run away and leave the plan behind, everyone will start talking about me and my family again. My family has already suffered a lot with the rumors and above all thanks to me.

Plus it wouldn't be the first time a Bridgerton wedding has been called off and we all know how that ended.

But that is not the worst.

The worst thing is that this time the queen is not only the hostess of the wedding, but she is the aunt of the future husband and that will cause me to be banished from London.

Because what Lady Whistledown wrote about me being a political radical turned her against me and made her have a bad opinion of me. I don't want to imagine the opinion she'll have of me if I leave her heir standing at the altar.

Benedict: Are you okay? - he asks me in a whisper taking me out of my thoughts.

Eloise: I don't know.- I answer honestly.

Benedict: It's not too late, you know right? - he asks me causing me to look at him confused.

Eloise: Late for what? - I ask wanting to understand what my brother tells me.

Benedict: Too late to cancel the wedding.- he answers me with a comforting smile. -Just tell me and we'll run away like no one has ever done before.- he assures me with a small laugh.

I watch him for a few seconds, considering the offer and weighing every possible outcome of my escape. The idea sounds tempting and I'm sure Benedict will defend me and help with everything.

You're POV

I swallow heavily, running my hands through my morning coat and wiping the sweat from my hands. I watch the guests talk to each other in whispers, causing my nervousness to increase and a knot to form in my stomach.

Lady Bridgerton has entered the room almost ten minutes ago, but she has entered alone and no one has entered after her.

She's supposed to be with Eloise, to help her get ready and her presence here assures me that Eloise is ready. But it doesn't show up anywhere, because she is nowhere to be seen.

I look over to where my aunt is sitting for comfort, seeing the impatience and worried look on her face. She seems to notice my look, as she offers me a small smile and a reassuring nod.

But I can't calm down when I feel hundreds of eyes on me and I can hear the murmurs of those present.

My gaze then falls on where the Bridgertons are sitting, muttering and talking a little erratically to each other. That alarms me even more.

What if Eloise regrets the deal and backs out? What if she leaves me standing at the altar?

That would explain the lateness and the stressed look on the face of the Bridgertons family matriarch. Maybe she already knows and is telling the rest of the family.

My breath stops when the doors of the room open and one of my aunt's waiters enters the room.

XY: Miss Eloise Bridgerton by the hands of Mr. Benedict Bridgerton.- he announces and I can feel myself breathing again.

But as soon as I start to breathe, the air gets stuck in my throat and it's because of something else entirely.

My mind goes completely blank as I see Eloise in her wedding dress with her hair up in a high bun. The light that enters through the windows of the room illuminates her dress and she looks like a complete angel.

The train of the dress trails gently across the floor, as does her veil, which rests just in front of the updo on her head and at the beginning of the train of her dress.

I'm not aware of the moment when Eloise has reached my side and Benedict offers me her hand. I'm only aware when my soon-to-be wife's brother clears his throat and the noise snaps me out of my reverie.

Y/n: Sorry.- I whisper embarrassed, feeling the heat flood my cheeks and receiving my fiancée's hand.

Benedict: Take care of her.- he threatens me seriously, before walking away and sitting with the rest of the family.

Priest: We are gathered here to celebrate the union between Prince Y/n of Hannover and Miss Eloise Bridgerton.- he begins to speak, but I only observe Eloise's profile and try to be as discrete as possible. -Love is something... ... ... ....- He speaks but I ignore him, looking only at the woman to my left. -Now I want you to repeat with me, you first prince. With this ring, I take you Eloise Bridgerton as my wife, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- he says and I look at the priest paying attention to him again .

Y/n: With this ring, I take you Eloise Bridgerton as my wife, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- I recite while staring at her eyes, receiving the ring from the priest and placing it on her finger.

Priest: Now your tourn Miss Bridgerton.- he says, offering her the other ring and I can see how she takes it with a trembling hand.

Eloise: With this ring, I take you Y/n from Hannover as my husband, to love you and take care of you in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty until death do us part.- she says nervously and shakily placing the ring on my finger.

Priest: With this exchange of rings, this marriage unites and will be consolidated with a kiss.- he says and I look nervously at the woman in front of me. -You can kiss each other.- he tells us.

I take a deep breath, before taking a step forward closing my eyes and leaning down feeling the erratic beating of my heart.

For a moment, my heart stops completely when my lips make contact with hers, and I can feel her breathing stop.

As we break from the kiss, I open my eyes to look at my now wife and see that she's still keeping them closed. I smile at the image and when she opens her eyes, she immediately smiles back at me.

I extend my hand to her, which she immediately entwines with hers and I direct her towards the large backyard where the celebration will take place.

Eloise: I have to talk to you.- she whispers so that only I can hear heron our walk outside.

Y/n: Bad or good? - I ask confused, smiling at the guests.

Eloise: It depends.- she answers me, doing the same action as me.

Y/n: Okay.- I nod almost imperceptibly.

But as soon as we set foot in the garden, people come to greet us and congratulate us on the wedding. Every time we try to get away so we can talk, someone steps up and stops that from happening.

But I take advantage of a moment when everyone is watching the fireworks, to grab Eloise by the hand and pull her behind some tall hedges a bit away from the crowd.

Y/n: What did you wanted to talk about? - I ask her in a whisper, not wanting to speak too loud and be heard.

Eloise: It's about the agreement.- she whispers, looking around making sure there's no one around.

Y/n: What about the agreement? - I ask completely confused.

Eloise: What happens if there is something that alters or changes the agreement? - she answers me with another question.

Y/n: I don't know.- I answer honestly. -I couldn't know if something could alter or change our agreement, if I don't know what it is about.- I clarify and see how she bites her lower lip nervously.

Eloise: Hypothetically speaking.- she clarifies nervously and I nod. -What would happen if one of the two parties ends up falling in love with the other party?- she asks, looking anywhere but at me and my heart races.

Y/n: Hypothetically speaking? - I ask and she nods. -That maybe the other party has also fallen in love.- I admit feeling the heat on my cheeks from shame.

She opens her eyes wide, directing her gaze to me and staring at me. I try to calm my heart; not wanting to have a heart attack.

Eloise: You...? - she asks me uncertainly, pointing to herself and I nod nervously.

Y/n: And you..? - I ask in the same way, pointing to me and she nods, joining her lips in a straight line.

Eloise: And now what? - she asks, avoiding my gaze and I decide to be brave.

I take two steps towards her, moving closer to her body and gently placing my hand on her chin. I force her head up and look at me, before I say what I've wanted to say for a month.

Y/n: Do you want to see the world with me? - I ask with a small nervous smile.

Eloise: Yes.- she nods with a slight redness on her cheeks after a couple of seconds.

I can't stand her closeness anymore, so I finish bringing my face closer to hers and I put our lips together again.

This time, the kiss is longer and lets us release all the feelings we had stored. My hands are placed on her waist, to be able to bring her closer to me and to be able to hug her by the hip against my body.

While her hands go up my arms and intertwine with each other at the nape of my neck.

We kiss until the air becomes necessary and we put our foreheads together to maintain the closeness between our faces.

Y/n: I love you.- I admit for the first time out loud without taking my eyes off hers.

Eloise: I love you.- she whispers and this time she is the one who brings our lips together in a hungry kiss.

If someone had told me that an agreed marriage proposal would have led me to meet the love of my life, I would never have believed it.

But fate is capricious and you never know where it will turn out.

But looking back from the backyard of my mansion with my wife, where I am playing with our four children and my beautiful wife is reading a book in a chair in the sun, that proposition was the wisest choice of my life.

THE END

#eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x male reader #anthony bridgerton #lady whistledown #queen charlotte #benedict bridgerton #violet bridgerton #edwina sharma #kate sharma #oc character #male reader

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seungminsbestywesty · 8 months ago

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(character) meets mortal Kombat!reader.

Like details include, whenever reader fights with a survivor/person there's a voice that comes out of nowhere that says "ROUND ONE. FIGHT" and at the end when the person loses/dies it says "READER WINS. FLAWLESS VICTORY" and when readers about to finish them off "FINISH HER/HIM". literally no one knows where this voice is coming from.

In which reader always strikes a pose when the flawless victory is said. (Or other sayings like brutality, and so on.)

Also readers extremely violent with her kills/fights. Like it always ends in a bloodbath or broken bones.

Reader (of your basing it off a character from mortal Kombat) has very revealing/decorated clothing. Or clothing that seems as if it's for combat only, like no matter where readers at they are always wearing combat clothing. Literally owns zero modern clothing. (Maybe reader makes them themself).

I love mortal Kombat. My fav character is D'Vorah. What's yours? (Repost plz)

#jessiesworks #fem reader #male reader #gn reader #reader x jjk #haikyuu x reader #slashers x reader #reader x anyone #percy jackson x reader #reader x mha #reader x mortal kombat

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seungminsbestywesty · 9 months ago

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(Takes place in an alternate timeline where there were more tournament held)

(Unedited) (Small hint of smut thoughts)

Tory took a step back, smirk crossing her face as she looked the other girl up and down. Watching the girl's fat ass from afar. She was too busy talking to the shorter LaRusso to even notice the pair watching her.

“So your telling me SHES a LaRusso? She looks nothing like Sam.”

“Yep, she's just a year younger than Sam.”

Tory cocked her head as she looked over to Robby with a serious look. He just looked back at her with a grin. He almost wanted to laugh at her reaction to the surprising news. Clearly, she was in a bit of shock finding out the bratty LaRusso had a younger sister who was surprisingly taller than her. Both of them looked back at the girl who was now walking around the mat stretching.

Their eyes followed her around as she took long stretches, moving her arms over her head and stretching her thick legs out. It looked as if she was also trying to do some breathing exercises as she moved about. Her eyes looked focused as she went about her business. Clearly she wanted to be completely ready when she got up on the mat.

Green hazel eyes glanced over at the girl, following her every movement. Tory’s eyes where also locked onto the plump girl.

“Is there a reason why she’s now magically apart of their dojo? This is my first time seeing her in general….”

“They needed another female participant for their dojo to be eligible for this tournament. Trust me when I say she’s a good fighter, she just doesn’t enjoy being in the spot light. When I first meet her she hated even talking about karate in the first place.”

“Well clearly that has changed…”

Robby snorted as he messed with his gi top, his eyes moving to look at his girlfriend. He watched as she eyes started to gaze lustily at the other girl. Her eyes slowly started to cloud with lust and a new sparkle of mischief in her eyes. Slowly a smirk started to spread over her pretty lips.

“Do you like her? Do you think she’s attractive?”

He raised a brow at her question, did he like Reader?

He didn’t even know Sam had a sister until he started going over to the LaRusso’s to train with Daniel. The first time he meet her was when they had dinner together. She didn’t talk much but when she was brought up she would look around for a moment before going back to her food. She always seemed to be listening to what was going on around her but chose not to interact. When she talked their was a hint of shyness but nothing to deep too it. She seemed to like talking but just didn’t want to.

It was weeks into knowing the LaRusso’s that he finally got to talk to her one on one. It was simple conversations sheared between them. They talked about school, about the LaRusso’s, about hobbies and things they liked. It was very light-hearted. She always seemed to be comfortable enough around him to actually stay and talk with him for a while. She was soon to retire once Sam made a appearance in the house. Not wanting to bother her slightly older sister, though she didn’t seem to dislike her sister it was apparent that she did not want to step on her toes.

He didn’t fully understand why but he never went out of his way ask either of them why she acted that way around her sister.

After everything that happened between him and Sam along with her father, he no longer saw Reader on a regular bases like he use to. He would see her occasionally in the hallways at school, sometimes at lunch. Reader never seemed to hold any kind of bad feelings towards him like the others did. She never said anything rude or did things to show any kind of hate towards him. Sometimes he would even catch her smiling or giving him a small wave.

Looking at her now without the eyes of Sam boring into his skull he could actually see her for what she was. She was attractive in multiple different ways. Her eyes where sparkling, cheeks full with a cute pair of lips. She was curvy and fluffy, ample chest and soft belly under her gi. A nice ass that he can’t believe he didn’t see in the first place.

He could feel his cheeks growing warm but did his best to shake his feelings off.

“I think she’s cute…in her own way I guess.”

“Well I think she’s hot. I’m surprised you aren’t all over her. I can’t believe you knew her before me and didn’t try to tap that.” Tory grinned.

Robby did a 360 at his girlfriends words.

She smirked in the direction of her boyfriend “What? You know I like girls too, Do you want me to lie when I say that one of the LaRusso shits is actually sexy? Yeah, Sam is decent, Anthony is too young for my taste and not my type by a mile, but Reader is just right. I wouldn't fault you if you were to tell me you ever thought about her like that.” a dust of pink brushes over her nose. Robby could see it in the limelight of the room.

“Maybe once or twice…”

“Thats all I wanted to hear.”

They watched her for a little longer as she started walking around again. They both wanted to roll their eyes when they watched her approach Miguel of all people. They exchanged a few words before the girl spun around and went back to her parents.

Their eyes where glued to the way Miguel took a double look in her direction as she left.

The asshole was definitely giving her ass a second glance.

“You know what we could do to piss off those punks?” Tory sated in a husky tone, a small grin forming on her lips. Robby raised a brow slowly. His girlfriend always had a flare for a bit of drama and she never failed to bring it to every competition.

“What if we sink our fangs into the younger LaRusso girl. We get to piss off not only the other LaRusso’s but their crappy little mixed up dojo too. Plus we get to fuck that fat bitch until she can't stand anymore. Send her home to daddy on her knees.”

Robby’s gi pants were suddenly a bit too tight for his liking as he took her words in. His mind starting to race from the ideas. New images popped up in his head as he really started to think about what Tory was saying. Dick throbbed at the near thought of the chubby girl on her hands and knees for him, for Tory. The image of her chubby little cheeks full as she sucked his dick, ass jiggling as Tory fucked her full of fake cock from the back. The sound of her pretty ass clapping along with Tory’s with every new hard thrust. God his mouth was watering at just the thought.

Looking over he realized Tory was in the same state. She was rubbing her thighs together the best she could since they were in public. Her eyes where glazed over as she stared the fat girl down.

“I wouldn't be opposed to the idea if your are just as interested.” he said looking back to the chubby girl.

“I knew you wouldn't be~”

Their new mission was to get their teeth into the younger LaRusso daughter as quickly as they could.

Might have a part two.👀

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seungminsbestywesty · 10 months ago

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heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

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seungminsbestywesty · 11 months ago

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Loving Arms Masterlist

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part I: An Important Guest

Part II: Family Dinner

Part III: Conversations over tea

.........

More to be added

#x reader #x reader insert #house of the dragon x reader #x aunt reader #aegon x reader #aemond x reader #platonic #helaena x reader #loving arms series

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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Thankk u for adding me on your taglist <3 ! And another amazing chapter!!

Begging on my hands and knees for a part 6 to where am I 👏👏

Where Am I?*Part Six

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...soon...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 1379

Warnings: time travel, hunting, jealous bjorn, rumours

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five

Masterlist Here

The next morning you woke up to the sound of rustling beside you. When your eyes finally opened you saw Ivar putting tunic and boots back on. “Did we?” the words came out before you could think as you quickly sat up. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw your clothes were still on.

“Did we what?” Ivar asked as he finished lacing on his shoes.

“Nothing,” you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, “Just weird dreams,” you tried to brush it off, but Ivar gave you a strange look.

Eventually he shrugged and you let out an internal sigh, “You snore by the way,” he said as he began to drag himself to the door.

“Hey!” you tried to protest but Ivar just laughed as he left your room. Thank god, you thought, as you fell back into bed a blushing mess.

By the time you were dressed and ready the breakfast table sat with a sniggering Hvitserk, a grumbling Sigurd sat across from an annoyed looking Ivar. You heard a whistle from Hvitserk but ignored it as Ivar’s grip tightened on his knife and you walked past them all to Ubbe.

“Can I come hunting with you?” you weren’t sure why you asked.

Ubbe clearly hadn’t expected it either, but a smile soon found his face, “Of course. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” when you first came the idea of hunting anything made your stomach churn.

But after the past two weeks you clearly weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, “Figured it’s about time I started acting like a Viking,”

As you went to grab your cloak confusion rang out from the breakfast table. “What’s a Viking?” Ubbe asked.

You let out a little groan, “I’ll explain on the way,”

Ubbe apparently found hunting therapeutic and you tried to put your 21st century ideas of a psychopath to the side since you needed dinner after all. “How much longer are we- “you began to ask but Ubbe rushed up behind you, placing a finger over your lips as he pointed between the gaps in the trees.

You gasped at his sudden presence, holding your breath as your eyes soon landed on the deer he’d spotted. You nodded slowly and he removed his hand, though you felt a heat rise to your cheeks as he stayed still behind you.

You wanted to question him as he put his hand over yours, but silence was key right now. His hands went over yours as they held your bow, guiding your aim as you knocked an arrow.

You glanced over your shoulder to send him a questioning look. There was no way you could shoot a deer. Sure, you’d got a couple rabbits, but they took like six attempts each time. Ubbe just nodded, giving you a reassuring look before both your eyes landed on the deer again.

You took a breath in, pulling the arrow back. just one shot. You wavered though, worrying maybe your aim was wrong. Then the deer lifted its head from where it was grazing on the grass. Your fingers fell away from the string.

“Yes!” Ubbe cheered when the arrow found its way into its prey.

A small laugh came from you then soon a beaming smile, “I did it!” you shouted, turning around to hug him. It lasted maybe a second before you pulled away to run over to the deer to put it out its misery. “You coming?” You called.

Ubbe tried to knock the love struck look off of his face as he gathered himself. It had been the first hug he’d had since childhood, and he felt like the air had been knocked out his lungs.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” you said as Ubbe carried the deer back himself.

“I’ve got it,” he grunted, forcing a smile.

“Scared I’d slow you down?” you joked.

He shot back a cheeky smile, “Of course,” he just laughed despite you slapping his stomach as you carried the six rabbits you had caught together.

The boys refused to believe it had been you that shot the deer when you returned. “Did you maybe shoot a log that looked like a deer?” Hvitserk teased.

“Ha ha,” you said, rolling your eyes, “Ubbe saw me,”

“I also guided your arrow,” he said as he and Sigurd began to string up the deer. You weren’t quite sure what was happening but watched in protest anyway.

“Barely,” you snapped, “It was my arrow, my bow, my shot. So that makes it my deer,”

Ivar chuckled at your antics, but this was a hill you were willing to die on. “I believe you,” Sigurd said as they finished tying the deer upside down. “This one is too loud to catch a deer,”

“Hey!”

“Told you so,” you grinned despite Ubbe’s protests. “Now be a dear Sigurd and telling me what yous are actually doing,”

This time they all rolled their eyes. Even Ivar despised modern century puns, “We need to bleed it,” Sigurd said casually before slitting the things throat.

“Nope!” you gagged, turning on your heels to leave, “Fuck that,”

“C’mon it’s just a little blood,” Ivar called but you were already heading back to their home.

You shivered remembering the site as you walked inside but froze when you saw Bjorn sat at the table, “Hello,” you said, and he just nodded. “Are you looking for your brothers?”

“No,” well this is a great conversation, you thought as you returned to silence.

You nodded slowly as the silence continued, “Okay well I’m going to- “you said as you headed towards your room, well Ivar’s old room, when Bjorn spoke up.

“There’s a rumour about you,”

God maybe it was like your old life. You turned around and sighed, “Do I wanna know?”

He stood up and for a second you thought it might be serious, “You and Ivar,” he said but when he never said anything else you just gave him a confused look, “Hvitserk saw him leaving your room,”

“Yeah, we accidentally fell asleep talking last night,”

“Talking,” Bjorn laughed, “Is that what your people call it?”

your eyebrows burrowed in confusion before the urge to slap him came over you, “Excuse you,” you snapped, “Ivar is my friend,”

“Who you fuck,” he said, stepping past the table closer to you.

Like hell were you going to back down, “That is none of your business,” you spat, crossing your arms “But for the record we didn’t. besides why do you even care?” Bjorn opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

You sighed and turned to walk away but finally he spoke, “Wait!” he said, and you turned around once more, “Look I- “he sighed, “I just don’t want you getting hurt,”

“Please I’ve dealt with gossips before,” you said, dropping your crossed arms, “but next time if you have a question just ask me,” you sighed, “instead of biting my head off when I’ve just had a good day,”

His eyes fell to the floor as he nodded, “I’m sorry,”

“Apology accepted,” you said. You started to leave but turned around of your own volition this time, “I caught a deer,”

“Really? You?” he smirked; eyebrow raised.

You hummed at him, narrowing your eyes, “Yes. Not that any of you would’ve believed me if Ubbe hadn’t witnessed the whole thing,”

“We’ll I’ll be damned,” he said, “There’s hope for you yet,”

“Tell me about it. Sigurd’s going to teach me how to stew it tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us,”

A soft smile fell on his face, “Suppose I should celebrate your victory with you. Even if it means dealing with my idiot brothers,”

“Hey if I gotta put up with you lot, then you can deal with them for an evening,” you grinned to which he nodded in agreement.

“Okay fine, fine,” his smile dropped though as he realised something, “Don’t you need to bleed it first- “

Your stomach lurched, “Don’t- “you cut him off, sticking your hand in the air, “-go there. That’s just creepy,” you shuddered as you finally headed to your room for a nap as Bjorn laughed at how sickly you looked at the thought of it.

Taglist Sign Up Here

General Taglist

@itsmathilda @tessakate @ravenmoore14 @obx-josie18 @427120lxld @meg-ro @headinfantasy @strvngestark @jjkjbhj @perla434 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @selenestar78 @randomstory56 @qardasngan @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @luvdella @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pidgeon @andreaxxx44 @winterklls @bdudette @f1uveryysblog @ellamarvete @pear-1206 @mushupork4u @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mbruben-stien @minedofmoria @moszslord @anaviieiraaa @goorupx @moonyystan @winchestercherrypie08

Vikings Taglist (part one)

@tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @bellroclucky03 @thefirebreather00 @ellabellabus07 @sashadevil766 @younjo @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @marchuuu @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703

#vikings tv imagine #vikings x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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words to use instead of ________

"Mad"

aggravated, angry, annoyed, boiling, cross, enraged, exasperated, fuming, furious, heated, incensed, indignant, irate, irritable, livid, offended, outraged, riled, steamed, storming, upset

"Nice"

amiable, charming, cordial, courteous, delightful, favorable, friendly, genial, gentle, gracious, helpful. inviting, kind, lovely, obliging, peaceful, peachy, pleasant, polite, swell, sympathetic, tender, welcoming, well-mannered, winning

"Pretty"

alluring, appealing, attractive, beautiful, charming, cute, delightful, desirable, elegant, eye-catching, fair, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, intriguing, lovely, pleasing, striking, stunning, sweet

"Said"

alleged, argued, asked, asserted, babbled, bellowed, bragged, commented, complained, cried, declined, demanded, denied, encouraged, expressed, giggled, growled, inquired, moaned, nagged, rebuked, rebutted, replied, rejected, retorted, roared, scolded, shrieked, shrugged, stated, taunted, vowed, warned, whined, whispered, yelled

"Went"

avoid, bolt, bound, depart, exit, escape, flee, fly, hike, hop, jaunt, jolt, journey, leap, leave, lurch, march, mosey, move, pace, parade, pass, progress, retreat, saunter, scoot, skip, split, step, stride, stroll, tour, travel, vanish

more words to use instead other words to use instead another list of words to use instead

#✏️ : writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #babywriters

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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could i request a small fic/imagine where tommy is soft with only his girlfriend/fiancé/wife and his kids?🫶🏼

Scary? My God you're divine!

A/N: hey babes, this is actually longer than I was expecting lmao. It still is under 1000 though. I am a huge sucker for soft!Tommy so thank you so much for this request 😍. I named the baby Charlotte before I realised how much her full name sucks and then couldn't be arsed to change it, so apologies to Charlotte Shelby. This is probably also ooc but I don't give a shit, but I hope you like it anon!!! 💕💕

You knew what Tommy did, what came with his job. All the illegal affairs and cutting people up. You'd be a fool not to. But you couldn't help but feel as if the real Tommy Shelby was the one who came out when he was with you.

Ever since the start of your relationship, Tommy had always acted differently around you, much softer, always there to place a soothing hand on your back or hunch over to talk to you with his lips brushing your ear, his words meant for no ears but your own. His hardened gaze softened and the corners of his mouth would quirk up in a a miniscule smile, only momentarily but you would count that as a win no less.

Arthur had employed you to help run things at the garrison, you weren't exactly excellent at maths but you were certainly better than Arthur so you would help with the books as well as working as a barmaid. The two of you met for the first time when Tommy burst into the office of the garrison with a cut on his sharp cheekbone, he thought he would be opening the door to his brother, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You insisted on helping and sanitising the "wound" and although he initially refused he soon gave in to your worried frown and relentless offer of help. The two of you had been practically inseparable since, rarely seeing one without the other and if one was missing they were never very far behind.

Tommy took to you almost immediately after meeting you, and Polly clocked him the very next day. The woman always was good at reading Tommy and that day was no different.

Over the next couple of months, whenever he was around Tommy barely let you lift a finger, always eager to help lift things and assist in anyway possible, never letting you out yourself in any risk whatsoever, no matter how small. At first you were offended, thinking that he was doing it because he thought you incapable, what with you being a woman, or if he didn't trust you enough to do things on your own. But when you brought it up one day, thoroughly fed up, he was quick to quell your suspicions and doubts by instead admitting his growing feelings towards you. Absolutely zero persuasion was needed for you to agree to a date with the handsome Tommy Shelby, and now three years later you're married with an adorable little four month old baby girl named Charlotte.

Tommy often refers to your small family as his greatest weakness, saying that if it ever gets out how soft he is that his reputation would never recover. But you just laugh to yourself and cuddle in closer, hand coming up to stroke Charlotte's head. No one would believe it if it got out, he has nothing to worry about.

The first time Tommy had held her you would've thought she was made out of cheap glass, fragile and likely to break at even the smallest of mishandlings. You knew from the moment that little Charlotte Shelby first opened her eyes, sharp and blue like her fathers, that she had Birmingham's most feared gangster wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. Once the doctor had shown him how to hold the baby properly, supporting her head and all that, it was hard to separate the two.

Every night when he came home to you he would lie in the centre of the bed with you curled up into his side, head resting on his firm shoulder, and he would place the small babe to lie on his bare chest, small legs tucking up in a scrunch like a frog and cute babbles making the corners of his eyes crease.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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I LOVE THIS OMG

ᴅᴀʏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: baby fever is in the air… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: So Mun being a husband material ♡ word count: 2k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

“Just one day! One day and I’ll go pick her up as soon as possible!”

“…Fine. You better not leave her to me overnight again.”

A weary sigh slid out of you as your friend hung up. You were now completely left isolated in your living room with her four-month-old, round eyes gluing on you with wonder.

It wasn’t like you disliked kids, you were just unsuited to keep one around when the responsibility and unexpectancy of being a counter were holding a knife to your throat. For example, what if you had to leave her alone for missions when some evil spirits popped up? Maybe you were just letting loose your overthinking habit, but this certain “job” was always full of unforeseen occasions.

However, all uncertainty vanished as there was a pull on the hem of your shirt by small, chubby fingers. You felt your composure peace out at that sunshiny smile and it took you less than one second to haul the infant into your lap, internally collapsing in cuteness overload while texting Hana that you needed to take a day off due to “unpredicted inconvenience.”

You were prepared to spend your peaceful rest day until the sound of your doorbell abruptly chimed in just thirty minutes after you informed your teammate. You picked the sweetheart up and approached the front door, wondering who would possibly be standing in front of your house at 10 a.m. if it wasn’t the delivery man.

Turning the brass doorknob with anticipation, you watched as the door revealed your boyfriend, who was standing under the warm glow of the mid-morning sun. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips, mirroring your own sense of elation at his arrival.

“Hi…” So Mun trailed off upon seeing the bundle of happiness in your arms, paving the way for a vague gasp and a look of pure exhilaration to emerge: “Whose baby is this?!”

“Mine, obviously.” He playfully pulled a face at your words, completely unamused by the apparent lie. You chuckled, explaining: “I ‘stole’ her from a friend. Some urgent family things came up so I’ll be in charge of this cutie until she comes back later. Why are you here, by the way?”

He gave the little girl a tiny wave before turning to you: “Just wanted to check whether or not something happened. Also Ms. Chu said if no evil spirits show up today, I can leave for the rest of the day too.”

As much as you refrained from displaying too-obvious excitement by your boyfriend’s presence, it already appeared crystal clear just how notably happy you‘ve turned: “Let’s hope no third wheeler would interrupt us.”

When a baby was in sight, most people tended to head for the little chubby face before anything else. So Mun was not the exception. He stared at the girl—who was also staring at him without blinking—and carefully extended his index finger: “Can I?”

“Of course!” That was all it took for him to nudge his finger on one of her plump cheeks, smiling widely when the squishiness melted on the tip of his digit like a marshmallow.

“Oh my god!! Look at how soft she is!”

You laughed, enjoying how he went smitten over an infant before taking his hand: “Let’s go, you’re not going to stay outside all day just poking her face, right?”

He followed your footsteps through the living room: “I can if you insist.”

“Luckily I won’t.”

All three of you settled down on the couch. The sweetheart chewed on her tiny thumb while she comfortably nestled on your lap, eyes glistening like two gemstones of fascination in return for the bright smile So Mun gave her. He leaned down to poke her cheek again:

“What’s her name?”

“Bora.” You answered, chuckling at how joyfully he beamed just from Bora reaching out to grab his finger, cooing the softest of whispers in her own language on behalf of you calling her name.

“Aww. Hi Bora! I’m So Mun-oppa, nice to meet you.” His voice unconsciously eased into a more childish, playful tone. Bora’s chubby hand grasped around his finger to explore the unique touch coming from someone she hadn’t seen before. The difference in size was laughable, yet exceptionally cute.

The air was perfumed with melodic gurgles and murmurs, easily dissolving anyone’s heart into slush. You dipped your head to make eye contact with So Mun, directly bringing up the suggestion: “Do you want to try holding her? Like, holding holding.”

He pointed to himself, eyes slightly widened as if not expecting you to ask this: “You sure? I’ve never held a baby before…”

“Don’t worry, I'll make sure you won't drop her.” The answer slipped out as naturally and confidently as if you were speaking a matter of fact. You lifted Bora off your lap, moving over to him with unfaltering trust.

Holding a baby was not only an act of affection but, furthermore, a timeless configuration of art. You started off by showing him how to support Bora’s fragile head and neck. Her little skull was cradled in the palm of his hand by his trembling fingers, which were loaded with the pressure of responsibility.

You guided her body to rest against his chest with the utmost attention. The delicate yet soul-stirring feeling of carrying such a beautiful miracle built his heartbeat in synchrony with your own, each breath conveyed nervous euphoria. His other arm carefully curled to surround her lower body in a loving cocoon, embosoming the bundle of innocence with his warmth.

With reverence, he let out a contented sigh while admiring how perfectly the girl fit in his embrace. His whispering voice became hushed and almost inaudible as if he were afraid that even a single noise could startle her: “She’s so adorable, what should I do now?”

“I don’t know, keep holding her?” You had to fight for your life inwardly to not snatch some photos from such a heartwarming view, not knowing if you should focus on him or on Bora.

“I am planning to do that.” He started swaying her with a slow, steady pace, a bit clumsily but wholesome nonetheless.

You quickly grabbed some of Bora’s favorite colorful toys, wiggling them in front of her while you and him attempted to make silly faces. Her soft giggle sparked like a star during the night, quickly expanded into a whole sky of glitter.

“Oh my god, we’re making her laugh!” Seeing the effect they had on Bora, he seemed to get even more excited than her. The laughter spread as vigorously as a wildfire that infected you with merriment, both at how precious the little cutie was and how hilariously you two were acting.

Bora looked up at So Mun with her eyes like twin constellations of delight, following each of his movements with tireless attention. Her faint breaths against his skin as she bloomed a toothless smile, unbridled chuckles singing like a symphony that both of you couldn’t help but melt: “She seems to really like you. So this is the ultimate power of being handsome, I can tell.”

He squinted with a smile, bashfully nudging your side as he caught you throwing a cheeky wink: “You’re embarrassing me…”

“Just admit you like it, babe.”

The three of you spent the whole day eating and engaging in playful activities together (with you and So Mun occasionally getting into plushies-fighting battles, no plushies were harmed during the process) until your friend came back from her trip later that evening.

You shared your introductions and goodbyes, ignoring an itty-bitty tug in your chest when you now ought to hand the sweetie back to her mother. It was hysterical how you unreasonably felt like a parent escorting their kid to kindergarten for the first time when this wasn’t even your kid. It was only because the day that had passed felt like such a magical adventure, and you admitted that never in your life was babysitting this memorable.

How wonderful would it be for the moment to last a bit longer…

At least this statement earned an approving thumbs up from, believe it or not, Bora.

Your friend cupped the little girl’s tiny torso, deliberately removing her from So Mun’s hug, her voice soothing and tender in hankering to reunite with her daughter after an exhausting day: “Let’s go home, dear. Mommy is so sorry for making you wait this long.”

Though, nothing seemed to successfully detach the baby from him, the pulls on her body converted into pulls on his sweater, which her hand was clutching onto with an impressively tight grasp. The more they tried to tug her away from So Mun, the more her cherubic face contorted unpleasantly as a warning before a tentative whimper was molded, and finally, a swelling cry.

‘Awkward’ was a minimization to describe the atmosphere, all three of the elders exchanged looks in puzzlement.

Each whine intensified after each second, every sound was a sincere plea that tugged at the heartstrings. Your friend bit her lip, along with you not knowing if she should crack up or freak out at her daughter’s sudden change of heart: “Bora-ah, w–what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You noticed So Mun shooting you a panicked look before turning back to the little one, trying to mitigate her harrowing cry with the gentlest jiggles and back strokes: “Don’t cry… You’re a good girl, right? So don’t cry.”

Bora clung onto him with an iron grip as she mewled, curling into a tiny ball and tucking herself against his chest. It was both sweet and surprising how fast she became attached to him, but it also didn't seem like the right time to laugh so you only let out a quiet titter, moving your attention back to her tubby fingers and trying to unhitch them from his clothes.

“Bora-ah, look at me.” He tilted his head to reach eye level with the girl, his voice consoling like a mellifluous lullaby and a murmur of the wind; you were unaware that, simply by watching, you were also struck with profound adoration: “Oppa promises we’ll see each other again, okay?”

It took them about 10 minutes to separate her from So Mun. And this was obtained as solid proof that your boyfriend wasn’t just good with kids, he could even mesmerize them without acknowledging it.

During that teary-eyed leave-taking, you spotted your friend gesturing something with her mouth to forward a nonverbal message to you, which you recognized as:

“He’s a keeper.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks, but that didn’t stop you from pridefully accepting the comment: “He sure is.”

Bonus:

It was undeniable that Bora has grown to be significantly bonded with So Mun since the time they first saw each other. But as her uncertified “daycare provider,” you were still proudly her favorite person in the house every time she came over.

Your gut clenched as you contained your laughter, pretending not to notice your boyfriend’s adorably sulky face and instead pouring all your affection onto the cutie, kisses freely landing on her forehead.

From his direction, a heavy exhale filled in your ear yet you were too invested in the act to drop it. You soon heard some faint sounds of motion before a weight pressed down on the side of your shoulder, lovable curly hair chaotically snuggling on your shirt:

“Love me, too.”

“C’mon, it’s just Bora.” You burst out giggling and held the little girl closer in your arms just to tease him.

“But you’ve been ignoring me, you know. Can you at least make it equal for both of us? I mean, she’s very cute but…” He pouted, intentionally or not flashing his puppy eyes at you as he mumbled: “Give me attention, too.”

Your speech was replaced with a pause. At this time, you had stopped questioning why merely a small moue could cause such an enormous impact on you that it was no longer practical to keep up with your game. You wasted no time wrapping your free arm around So Mun, drawing him into a side hug where all three of you now huddled into an enclosed position, sharing the same connection and same sentiment: “Damn… Now you’re the one being too cute.”

“Am I?” So Mun grinned, gleefully reciprocating the hug before adding: “By the way, don’t “damn” in front of Bora.”

“She’s not gonna understand.”

#so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #so mun #kdrama #kdrama x reader #uncanny counter #the uncanny counter

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

#Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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☆ unnoticed.

pairing; benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary; in which the girl who's never been noticed by anyone, not even her family, finds herself being noticed by the second son of the bridgerton family—the familly who is the utter opposite of her own.

satus; ongoing!

word count; updates as i update

updates; irregular but will attempt to try once a week

warnings; whole lot of historical inaccuracies ( a LOT ), time period typical things, angst, family issues, suggestive / 18+ content - more to be added but each chapter itself will have their own specific warnings as well

☆ chapters.

prologue.

☆ extras.

the vote!!

#bridgerton angst #bridgerton smut #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton series #benedict bridgerton x reader #unnoticed ❀ ( a bridgerton fic series )

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seungminsbestywesty · 1 year ago

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Ivar the Boneless*Does He Treat You Well

Pairing: Ivar x wife!reader

Kinktober Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Warnings: ivar being ivar, slight blood kink, blood, knife play, knife kink, p in v sex, nipple play, choking, hickeys, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

You heard their whispers in the street, of course you had. You remember the concerned expressions etched into your parents face as you dedicated your heart to Ivar. You knew what people thought of him and what they feared for you.

Even Ubbe, a long close friend of yours expressed his concern. You had married Ivar a month ago yet now Ubbe was asking you the question, “Does he treat you well?” he asked in a hush whisper from where you sat at the opposite side of the hall from your husband. Your eyes flickered to Ivar as you recalled how he had treated you last night.

“Such a pretty dress,” Ivar praised as he laid by your side, his hands trailing down the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at how his pale blue eyes scanned your body, “Shame it has to go,” he muttered but you knew he was not sorry.

Especially not when he clutched the neckline, his dagger slicing through the fabric with ease. Cold air washed over your frame causing your nipples to harden while Ivar finished slicing the dress off you. his eyes raked your body, the dagger slowly being dragged up your legs. You shivered as the cool metal glided along your thigh, so light that it didn’t even scratch your skin. “Husband,” you whined, your hand gripping his wrist making his eyes raise to meet yours, “I need you,”

A low growl left his throat as his lips crashed onto yours. you felt his blade move away from your body, but you were too intoxicated by his lips to care as your hands wound up in his hair as he moved to lay over you. he broke the kiss as suddenly as he started it, his empty hand reaching to squeeze your tit before pinching one of your nipples roughly causing you to whine.

His lips moved to your collarbones, sucking harsh marks into the sensitive skin as he rolled your nipples between his fingers making it hard not to moan loudly. “Such a pretty little thing,” Ivar praised, his voice almost mocking as his eyes raked your chest.

You shivered when you felt the tip of his dagger run up your side slowly, moving over to run up your chest. As he ran the blade up between your breasts, he pressed down lightly, just enough to break the skin. A hot feeling flushed along your chest as Ivar dropped the blade, running his thumb over the cut he had made, collecting the blood on his finger.

You watched as he sucked his thumb, his eyes rolling back into his skull, “Such a sweet taste,” he praised, moving his hands from his lips to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheek bone. Your hand moved to hold his wrist softly and Ivar smiled at your tenderness in even this moment. “A gift from the gods,” he murmured, his lips falling to press soft kisses down your chest to your breasts.

“Husband,” you moaned lightly as he took your nipple into his mouth.

“What is it my sweet?” he asked, trailing his mouth to the other, sucking harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

You could feel your stomach burning and your chest aching, needing his touch despite how close he already was. Your legs moved to hook around his lower back, pulling his body down gently into yours as your hands moved to cup your face, “I need you,” you whispered, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

Ivar however growled, his kiss growing more intense as his hand moved to grab your jaw. You gasped lightly when you felt his hips grind into yours, his hard cock evident through his trousers. While you had heard the whispers of his failures in the bedroom one night with Ivar proved it had just been a mishap.

His lips moved to your jaw, kissing it harshly as he trailed down your frame. His lips soon captured your nipple, his teeth grazing it making shivers run down your spin. You felt his rough hand squeeze your thigh before it slipped between them, running a finger up your slit, “So wet for me already,” he praised, “How desperate you really are,”

“So desperate,” you whined quietly, “for you Ivar. I need you please. do not make me wait,” you begged, your hips instinctively bucking as he rubbed harsh circles onto your clit, “Please husband,”

Your words seemed to spark something in the man as his hand wrapped around your neck, the other diving beneath his trousers to fish out his cock. “You want me?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, “Then you shall have me,” he grunted, pushing his tip in slowly making you gasp at his size you had still not grown used to. His eyes screwed tight in bliss as he slowly sunk his cock all the way in, his hand trailing down your throat to your breast, squeezing it lightly.

Your hips bucked, desperate for friction, and Ivar had sensed your impatience. His hips began to move, slowly at first before falling into a brutal and relentless pace. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hit a deeper angle making curses fall from his lips.

Your eyes screwed shut, trying to stifle the moans as your fingernails sunk into his bicep. You gasped when you felt the cold blade press against your throat, but it only added to the way your body tightened beneath him. When you opened your eyes, you were met by his icy blue ones.

For a moment you wondered if it this was the sight your husbands’ enemies were forced to see before they were sent to Odin and for a moment you thought this alone would make death worth it. but they didn’t get to feel the way you did as you felt your peak soon approaching. Ivar grabbed your hand roughly, shoving it between your bodies so you could rub fast circles into your clit.

His blade moved up, pushing against your jaw making your head tilt back as Ivar’s lips dove down to your neck, kissing down the soft skin. When you felt his arm slip under your back, pulling it up and causing it to arch, you gasped as his cock hit a new spot that somehow felt even better.

Ivar groaned at the way your cunt squeezed around him, but he was determined to last until you had, and it did not take long as with a few more specific, aimed thrusts you found your orgasm rushing over you. your body tightened, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him in deeper making Ivar groan and drop the knife. He moved his arm out from under your back, grabbing at the sheets as his thrusts grew messy and desperate, his forehead resting against yours.

You felt his body stiffen as you came down from your own peak, still panting from the high as you felt him spill inside you before collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess. After a couple of moments to allow you both to catch your breath Ivar looked up at you, his eyes tender and sweet, “Are you okay my love?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Ubbe’s words snapped you back from reality and your eyes darted back to him, not noticing your husband’s smirk from across the room.

You smiled warmly at your brother-in-law, “Yes and you don’t need to worry Ubbe. He treats me very well, I promise,”

#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless smut #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #ivar smut #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson smut #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings tv imagine #vikings tv smut

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