#At least for me who needs to fill my mind

[wineauntie]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE — luke hughes x famous singer!reader

Summary: in which Luke Hughes stars in one of your music videos

notes: this idea hit me as soon as I watched the music video for please please please, so enjoy!

Your fingers furiously tapped across the screen of your phone, your eyebrows furrowed as you typed. From beside you on the couch, your boyfriend tightened his arm around you sensing your growing tension.

“What’s wrong?” Luke mumbled, his lips brushing your hairline as you sighed and melted into his touch.

“The guy who was meant to be playing the male lead in my video broke his leg and we have no replacement.” You huffed, not because you were annoyed at the poor guy but because everything had all been set up for the day after tomorrow and all had to now be rearranged which meant far more paperwork and hassle.

“I…”

“And now we have to reorganise the lighting crew and permits for the locations—”

Luke’s fingers gently grasped your jaw, his eyes solely on you.

“I could do it.”

You blinked, your mind momentarily stilled by his suggestion.

"You?" Your words slipped from your lips in an incredulous tone.

"Yeah," he confirmed, a confident smile tugging at his lips as his eyes trained on yours. "Why not? I know all the words, and I’ve seen you rehearse a hundred times. Plus," he added, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "it could be fun."

It was true. He’d been with you as you rehearsed scenes, often standing in for the male lead when you’d begged him to.

"But you’re not an actor," you protested, yet the idea was already starting to take root in your mind. "You’re a hockey player."

"And a pretty decent one at that," he teased as he traced his thumb along your cheekbone, making you smile despite yourself. "But seriously, I think I could handle it. It’s just a few scenes, right? And you need someone by tomorrow."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the man you loved filled with a hint of excitement.

Maybe this could work.

It was unconventional, sure, but sometimes the best things happened when plans went astray?

At least you were slowly convincing yourself that idea was true.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your voice softer now. "It’s a lot of pressure and it is more than a few scenes, it’ll be a few days of filming."

Luke leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away, his nose brushing yours.

"For you? Absolutely.” He stated, before continuing. “Besides, it’s not every day I get to be in a music video with my talented girlfriend."

“Alright, Mr. Hughes,” You laughed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Looks like you’re my new co-star."

—

The morning of the first scene sequence, the set was abuzz with energy as the crew prepped for the shoot. The first scene would take place in a holding cell at a police station. Two makeup artists flanked you as they finished up the makeup look for the scene.

You glanced over at Luke whose costume was being fixed by a few crew members. He looked surprisingly at ease, chatting with the director and crew as if he’d been doing this for years. You watched him from a distance, a proud smile on your face.

“Okay, everyone get ready, we film in T-5!” The director called out, your makeup artists seemed satisfied with their work as they parted from your side. You stood up, quickly weaving your way towards Luke.

“Hey sweet girl,” he greeted, his hands catching yours as they outstretched towards him.

“Hi,” you breathed out, examining his outfit. Luke was decked out in all black, his curls tamed at the sides, a necklace with your initials tucked under the shirt, leaving only the chain.

Yesterday had been spent measuring him for outfits and rehearsing today’s scenes, you’d coached him through what he needed to do for today.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered, bending down so that you were the only one to hear his voice.

Heat rose to your cheeks at his words, “You look incredible,” you returned the compliment, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for this?”

“I am,” Luke nodded, “I’ve never been in handcuffs before.”

A devilish grin crossed your face as you untucked his necklace, letting your initials glint under the set lights.

“I’m sure the crew wouldn’t mind if they just go…missing,” you hummed, your smirk undeniable as the tips of Luke’s ears flushed.

“If I get to wear them, it’s only fair that you test them out too,” he breathed out, his pupils flaring.

“Deal,” You glanced around before placing a quick kiss on Luke’s lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

—

“y/l/n!”

Your purposefully dishevelled self looked towards the holding cell doors where a police officer banged on the bars.

“Somebody bailed your ass out, let’s go.”

You smiled, unfolding your legs and sheepishly walking into the hall pretending to listen to the officer as she directed you left. You ignored the camera following you, carefully sticking to the script.

“Ma’am, are these your belongings?”

The man behind the glass held up a plastic bag with a pair of sunglasses and lipstick. As it was handed through the slot to you, you ignored the man as he spoke, using his glass as a mirror to put on your lipstick.

As if like clockwork, the noise began, and you played up your curiosity for the camera, trying your best to suppress a smile.

Peering around the corner you watched as Luke was led onto the station set, his hands behind his back as two officers flanked him. You leaned against the wall to watch him as his eyes finally met yours.

There was a glint of mischief hidden in his eyes as you followed his figure whilst the officers pushed him into a holding cell. He fought to keep you in his sights before he disappeared into the cell and the director called cut.

—

The next scene the two of you filmed was the scene where Luke would be exiting prison, with you ready to take him away.

You’d gone through a costume change, now adorning a pink faux fur jacket, white top and one of the shortest skirts you’d ever seen.

When Luke had seen you, his eyes had bulged and he’d dragged you into his chest by your waist for a quick kiss before you’d both gotten into position.

You leaned against your black car, one leg up as you watched Luke emerge from the gates.

His arm was stretched up by his shoulder, holding his bag as he walked towards you. A smirk plastered across his face as he shot you a playful wink. Your fingers outstretched in a come-hither motion and once he was in arms reach, you pulled him into you.

You pulled him down so he was face to face with you, a smile playing across your lips as his eyes scanned your face and body.

“Like what you see?” You teased, knowing that in this scene you didn’t need to be lip-syncing. Luke’s lips parted, his eyes now tracking your lips before you giggled and pushed him away, letting him open the door to the car for you.

—

You’d filmed the correlating scenes in the prison location before finishing for the day. There were three days in total scheduled with the second containing a fight and robbery scene starring Luke, who definitely enjoyed those more than he was supposed to.

On the last day of filming, you moved into the warehouse location and the scenes you were filming caused excitement to buzz through your veins.

It was one of the last scenes for the music video. You were wearing a skintight white dress with vibrant red lipstick, whilst Luke had been dressed in a white vest and dark pants. His curls were defined, a few dangling over his forehead as he sat on a seat across from you.

You sent him a small smile, wiggling your fingers as the director began to call action.

You fell into character, lip syncing to your voice playing over a speaker. You slowly approached Luke on the chair, who had held his hands behind his head.

You leaned over him, dangling a pair of handcuffs in your hand. You had to fight a teasing smirk as recognition sparked in Luke’s eyes at the pair.

You allowed your fingers to brush across his chest, relishing the shudder your man tried to suppress whilst you rounded the chair.

Your nails traipsed across his biceps on display before you pulled his arms down, and handcuffed them behind his back.

You allowed your out-of-sight pinky to lock with his momentarily before you picked up the roll of duck tape that had been left for you to take.

You ripped some of it off, straddling Luke’s lap as his heavy-lidded eyes followed you. You gently lowered it over his mouth, your hands moving to cup his face as your eyes softened. You smiled at Luke whose own eyes were full of adoration for you.

In an unscripted move, you leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to the duck tape. You pulled away shyly, admiring your lipstick print left on the tape as you removed your hold from him.

You shook your head and returned to the starting mark, guilt creeping over you at straying from the script.

“Sorry!” You called out sheepishly, glancing back at Luke who was still handcuffed and duck-taped with the camera focusing on him.

“And cut!” The director called out her eyes bouncing in glee. “y/n, that kiss move was perfect! We can run it a few more times for the different angles, and then the closing shot can be Luke left there by you.”

“Oh I love that,” you gushed, glancing towards Luke. He had been untaped and was being removed from the handcuffs.

You smiled as you approached him, his flushed cheeks much more apparent as his darkened eyes followed you.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you bit your lip as Luke raised an eyebrow. “Feeling okay?”

Luke’s strong arms pulled you to stand between his legs, his head tilted up towards you.

“That pair of handcuffs better be coming home with us,” he murmured causing your eyes to flare in want as his warm fingers grasped your jaw. “You’re having too much fun tying me up…I wonder what would happen if the roles reversed.”

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Hearts in Sync, Tires on Track

I'm sorry I have hit the deleted button 😢 and so I have to repost this one. This was based on a request of a reader @pear-1206, so sorry that your request message was also being deleted.

But yeah, here it is. Hope that you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I did. Also, if you have any requests please feel free to hit my dm, I appreciate it very much. If not then send me some of your love and support through that reblog and like button. Love ya alllll!  🫶🏻

Toto Wolff's wife and son, Y/n and Jack were in the garage, watching the race with bated breath. The atmosphere was tense, as nothing seemed to be working for George and Lewis. Toto's wife watched her husband's face, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, the deep furrow between his brows. She knew how much he was struggling, trying to figure out a way to turn things around for the team. Her heart ached for him, wanting nothing more than to ease his worries.

As the race continued, the tension in the garage grew thicker. She and Jack glued to his side, watching him anxiously. Toto's eyes flicked back and forth between the monitors, his fingers flying across his laptop as he tried to find a solution, anything that could help the team's chances. Toto's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and strategies. His eyes scanned the monitors, searching for any glimpse of improvement from his drivers. As he pondered the various scenarios, his hand subconsciously went to his own wedding band, his fingers toying with it gently. Meanwhile, in the garage, Y/n sat with Jack, trying to keep a brave face despite her worry. She was struggling to keep her own anxiety in check, her mind constantly going back to her husband. Every now and then, she found herself twisting her wedding band around her finger, a silent prayer for his wellbeing.

The race was over, but the results had not been what he had hoped for. His heart was heavy with disappointment, and his mind raced with thoughts of what he could have done differently. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door, and he looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway. Her face was filled with concern, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and love.

Toto's heart skipped a beat as he saw her. In that moment, all his worries and stress seemed to melt away, at least for a moment. He held out his hand, a silent invitation for her to come closer. She walked over to him, taking his hand and sitting down on the edge of his desk. For a moment, they were silent, simply taking comfort in each other's presence. Finally, Toto broke the silence. "It didn't go well," he said quietly, his voice low and strained.

Y/n nodded, her fingers gently rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. "I know," she murmured softly. "But you did everything you could. You always do." Toto let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't enough," he replied. "I should have done more, I should have thought of something..." His wife reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Stop," she said firmly. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You work too hard, you worry too much. You need to let go sometimes." Toto looked up at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guilt. "I can't," he said quietly. "I'm responsible for this team, for everyone who is now working at Brackley also. If I don't worry, who will?"

His wife chuckled softly, her thumbs stroking his cheeks fondly. "That's exactly what I mean," she said with a smile. "You're too dedicated, too determined. You forget to take care of yourself." Toto let out a huff of breath, his lips twitching into a small smile. "And who's going to take care of me, hm?" he teased, a hint of the old spark returning to his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Who do you think? Me," she replied, her tone playful. "Someone has to keep you from working yourself into the ground." Toto chuckled, the sound low and heartfelt. "You did a good job of it," he admitted.

As they were all laughing at his words, Toto's door creaked open, and they both looked up to see their son, Jack, standing in the doorway. The young boy's face was pinched with worry, his eyes taking in the sombre atmosphere of the room. "Papa?" he asked tentatively, his small voice breaking the silence. Toto's heart clenched at the sight of his son. "Hey, buddy," he said, mustering a smile. "Come here."

Jack hesitantly stepped into the room, his eyes flicking between his parents. Toto reached out a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. "Don't worry, everything's alright," Toto said, trying to keep his voice steady for his son's sake. "Just having a bit of a tough day, that's all." Jack slowly made his way over to them, stopping beside his father. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "We'll figure things out," he assured him, his voice gentle.

Y/n nodded in agreement, her fingers once again toying with her wedding band. "Papa's right," she said firmly. "We always figure things out. We're a team, remember?" Jack looked up at his dad, his eyes wide. "Us?" he asked, his voice small. Toto chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "Yeah, me, mama and you. We've been a team for a long time, haven't we?"

Jack seemed to accept this, his expression relaxing slightly. He leaned into his mother's side, resting his head against her shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had happened that day hanging heavily in the air. Toto could feel the presence of his family, their love and support grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone.

[rileyglas]

Can we get part 2 of the cat Lucifer, cat Alastor, and little Adam thing? Like living with them type thing or daily life? It was adorable!!

The sheer chaos that all three of these little counterparts make was fun to explore! Hope you enjoy! Part One can be found here

Meeting their Fandom Counterparts Pt. 2 Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam x gn!reader

Cat Alastor

The morning light just started to peek through the window of your room. You roll over with a stretch, hand reaching for Alastor, “Good morning my - OW FUCK get off!” The cat, if you can even call it that, pounces and embeds its teeth into your arm. You fling it off to the floor, a solid thud resonates across the wood planks. “Al I can’t keep going with this! He won’t even let me near you without going nuts!” 

“He’s protective, that’s all. I’m sure he just needs to warm up to you a bit more. Isn’t that right my boy?” he coos, patting the bed beside him to call the cat back. You roll your eyes and scoff. That thing has been Alastor’s new favorite in the hotel for nearly three weeks now. It has wreaked havoc every day, not to mention the turmoil poor Lucifer has gone through thanks to its antics. “And how much more time do we need before coming to the conclusion he’s a deranged, rabid nuisance?” A scowl crosses your face as you swing your legs over the bed to get up. 

You hear a static filled growl rumble at your words before the cat stretches to a concerning length, curling up and purring in Alastor’s lap. “I’ve grown quite fond of him, my dear. I can’t help that he’s bonded with me.” You groan under your breath, “Can you at least try to keep him away from Lucifer today? The King is starting to get a nervous tick. He could use a break from the torture.” Alastor exhales in acknowledgement but you already know the day you’re in for. 

A few hours later, everyone sits around the table happily munching on breakfast. Lucifer sits across from you, sipping on his coffee quietly. His eye twitches ever so slightly. “Feeling alright, sir?” you ask, noticing his nerves are more fried than ever. Before he can answer he violently jolts,“UHG something BIT me!?” he yells as he pushes his chair back. Alastor’s cat pops up from between his legs with some white material between a disturbing smile.  Both you and Lucifer shoot a glare at Alastor who is chuckling smugly to himself. 

“You need to keep a leash on that thing before I take care of it myself!” Lucifer hisses. Alastor’s eyes flash and he slams his hands to the table, “You will not lay a finger on him!” The two men go nose to nose, arguing (yet again). Angel leans over to you, “That thing chased Fat Nuggets around with a fork last night. Its eyes always have that deranged, unsettling look. I personally wouldn’t mind if the King took care of it.” he whispers. You nod in agreement but sigh, knowing it is one of the few things Alastor has come to love during his time here. There’s no way you could take that away from him. 

You stand and clear your throat, “Al I think Lucifer is right. You need to keep a better eye on him if you want to keep him. Don’t want him running off any potential clients of the hotel, right Mr. Hotelier?” He rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers to conjure a collar and leash. “Fine, I’ll keep him closer for the sake of the hotel.” his voice drops slightly, “But don’t think I am done with allowing him to make some special visits.” 

Lucifer groans as the cat jumps into Alastor’s lap for his collar. The two give a final, eerily similar grin to the King before disappearing into a shadow. “You going to be okay?” you ask Lucifer. He shudders slightly, examining the new hole in his slacks. You hear a small chuckle leave his throat, “Yeah…I think I’m going to go get a dog today. A big one.”

Cat Lucifer

“Honey I really don’t know if a bow tie is necessary -” Lucifer tries to convince you but you wave him off as you adjust the tiny tie attached to the white cat’s collar, “Come on! He looks like a little distinguished gentleman, don’t you Luci?” “Stop calling him that!” he grumbles, arms crossed across his chest. The smallest pout on his lips makes you melt pitifully, “Now my love, don’t tell me you’re jealous? You’re still the number one man in my life.” Still holding the cat, you lean over and kiss Lucifer’s cheek. 

A light blush crosses his face with a small grin, “I know. I guess I just feel so disconnected lately. I’m sorry.” Luci hops out of your arms and paws at Lucifer’s coat tail. A sudden idea makes your face light up. “Why don’t you make him a toy? You’re locked in your office so much - maybe it can be a little side project to help bring you closer?”

The cat stares up at the King, eyes glossed over and a small droplet of drool dangling off its chin. Lucifer sneers, “Are you sure he even understands what a toy is?” You smooth his coat and push him out the door, “Just consider it, please? Have a good day dear.” A week later, as usual, Lucifer was working overtime every night. You’re grateful you at least have the small fluff ball to keep you company, even if Luci is a little on the dim side. You’ve witnessed him attack his own feet and roll off the bed multiple times, hitting the ground with a disgruntled huff of defeat. He’s even taken a few swipes at Fat Nuggets. When the pig turned to chase him his wings would puff out in an attempt to ‘fly’ away. The poor thing just looked as though he was having a seizure, flailing and flapping around on the floor, going nowhere. Let’s just say - he’s lucky he’s cute. 

Lucifer finally comes in one evening sporting a smug grin, “My dear! Introducing my new creation!” He extends his hand out holding a small white rubber duck with cat ears and a red bow tie, “It’s a duck..cat..thing but more importantly, I installed little wheels underneath so he can chase it to his heart's content!”

He sets the duck down in front of Luci. The cat noses it, hissing when he hears the whirling of the gears that make the duck slide across the hardwood floor. Lucifer’s shoulder stoop, “Damn, I really thought he would like it.” he admits with a hint of sadness. You pat his shoulder, “Give him a moment - oh see! He loves it!” Luci begins to roll around and chirp playfully. After a few moments he pounces (clumsily), catching it between his fangs. The cat proudly struts over to Lucifer and sets the toy at his feet. He bends down to scratch between Luci’s ears, “Hmpf. You’re welcome little guy!”

Your plan for Lucifer to bond seems to backfire slightly. Before you know it, not only is your boyfriend missing nearly every night, but you’ve noticed Luci hasn’t come to bed with you as usual. After a few nights of this, you sneak down the hall to peek into the King’s office. You can’t help but giggle at the scene before you.  Lucifer works hard at his desk, with one drawer pulled out next to him. You notice a small blanket stuffed inside and on top is Luci, curled up comfortably and purring. His little white duck tucked safely under his paw. Every now and then Lucifer’s hand finds the cat to give it a few pats. Well…at least someone has company.

Little Adam

The deal of not allowing Little Adam to come home didn’t last long. The day after he showed up you stand at the stove cooking dinner when you feel a small pinch on your ass. “Well hello to - what the HEAVENS is he doing here!?” You turn around expecting your Adam only to see the little shit making obscene grabbing motions with his hands.

“I couldn’t leave him again! He was scared!” Adam defends loudly then grumbles something under his breath. “What was that dear?” you prod, knowing there’s more to the story. He turns away, embarrassed, “Well…he also might have destroyed the main office while I was gone…and now has a few formal complaints I will have to deal with…”

You cross your arms, “Mhm. And?” Little Adam crawls up your legs and under your shirt. “Hey - NO! OUT!” your words fall on deaf ears as he snuggles into the warmth of your chest. “See he loves you just as much as I do! Please, let’s keep him here?” Adam flashes a coy smile that you, of course, can’t say no to. 

It was easy to see why there were so many complaints about Little Adam. Over the course of a few days he ate every snack in the house, groped you anytime he could, and left a mess in any room he was in for more than a minute. You are at your wits end but continue to put up with it for the sake of Adam’s happiness. 

That is until tonight. Adam came home in a frisky mood and you welcomed his advances. He no more than got his robe off before Little Adam snuck his way into your bed, obnoxiously cheering his bigger self on. “Nope, that’s not going to happen.” You say as you flick him off the bed. His wings pop out and he flutters around Adam’s head. 

“Babe common, it’s just a little me. Not like he can tell anyone what we do. Besides, it’s fuckin’ sick to have a little fan.” Adam says excitedly but his smile drops when he sees how pissed off you are. He hunches his shoulders, “Uhg fine. Sorry little dude. You’ve gotta go.” Little Adam squeaks in protest when Adam plucks him by his wings and throws him outside the bedroom. 

Guilt begins to eat at you. On one hand, you couldn’t have that thing destroying the house everyday and terrorizing you. But Adam has grown attached. There had to be a way to make everyone happy. He was bound to just be lonely and need company. That’s when it hits you. 

“Whatcha workin on sugar?” Adam asks, kicked back on the couch next to you. “I’m actually just finishing up.” You mutter as you make the final stitch and show Adam a small stuffed doll that has your resemblance. “I figured Little Adam needed a Little Me to keep him company. It’ll be cute…hopefully.”

You set up a small bed across your room for the tiny terror to sleep in. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally squish him in the night. Little Adam hops up and down in the bed excitedly as you set the doll next to him. He immediately snuggles it with a huge smile. “Awe he loves it! You did good babe.” Adam chuckles and wraps an arm around you. “Maybe now he’ll leave us alone. He probably was just in need of a frien - uhg great. Now he’s humping it.” You roll your eyes and walk away in disgust. “He’s definitely you.” you poke angrily at Adam who is nearly falling over from laughter. At this point, you’re just glad you found something to keep Little Adam out of trouble. 

[archaiclumina]

What aesthetic are you: Cyfrenne edition

I found a fun uquiz and decided to take it! Now I'm making it everybody else's problem!

I took it for dear Ren and it is very apt, I am very pleased with the random uquizzers ability to peg my character's vibes from nothing but Hozier lyrics and bad 00s TV shows.

myth

you live in a hazy state of mind, filled with decadence and the memories of ancient gods and goddesses. you feel a strange power filling your bones, like liquid gold running through your veins. the world sits in your palm and you feel vengeful. humans should be worshipping you and you need a certain luxuriousness to feel satisfied. sweet honey wine and fruit make your fingers and mouth sticky and you wait to catch your next supplicant.

"The world sits in your palm and you feel vengeful." Cackling c': Ok, ok. it doesn't sit in her palm but she does feel very vengeful, she's vengeful at least 5 out of the 8 days of the Eorzean week c': (Y'all remember there's an 8th day in the week on Hydaelyn? Fuck I am always forgetting!!) 

ANYWAY. This is an open sesame tag!! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Take it if you want to get called out by some stranger who knows nothing about your blorbos too! It's free entertainment!!

If you do take it, please tag me so I can see your result!!!

Link to quiz here again just in case you missed it!

[truthful-peanut]

A/N: Hello everyone! My name is Peanut and this is my first post on this account! I’ve posted online before but it’s been a few years since then so I might not be the best 😭 Please forgive me. For my first post, I decided to write some yummy angst 😋 I hope you enjoy and consider following me if you enjoyed this.

— Peanut <33

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I hate you, Toji Fushiguro || Toji Fushiguro x Reader & Megumi Fushiguro + Reader Drabble

Summary: You are the only stable and constant parental figure Megumi has ever had and he hates that his deadbeat dad has you rapped around his finger despite Toji clearly showing he only wants you late at night for the sake of his own pleasure.

Warnings: ANGST, unrequited love, absent parents, swearing, GN! Reader, hints at spoilers for season 2 JJK??, not proofread, possible spelling mistakes, lmk if I missed anything.

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Megumi doesn’t know his mother, he was never given the chance to meet her. But he’s okay with that because you fill her absent role.

You were originally just someone Toji used to hookup with every now and then, so naturally you had bumped into Megumi a few times. You were kind and caring every time, however these moments weren’t what made you replace her role.

No, that came much later when you found out Toji would sometimes leave Megumi and his sister Tsumiki alone months on end.

You couldn’t sit by and watch that, so you stepped in and stayed at the Fushiguro’s flat and took care of them. Looked after them. You were more than a parental figure to him, you were his parent. Fuck Toji and his absent ass, at least his mother had the excuse of being dead. Toji however just seemingly up and left one day.

Sure, maybe he comes home every so often, but it’s never for long and he’s only either arguing with you or he’s staring at you intensely, his eyes full of lust. Then on the contrary, there’s you. You are always there. A stable and constant figure in his life other than his sister.

Now it’s common knowledge that Megumi is very mature for his age, so while it shouldn’t shock you, it comes as a surprise when one day he tells you;

“Stop hoping dad will fall for you. We both know he’s not going to. He’s too stuck in his own mind to be able to love someone else.”

You swallow thickly. What is up with this six year old? How long has Toji neglected him for him to mature this quickly? You stop preparing dinner and move over to the young boy, crouching to his level and placing your hands on both of his shoulders, offering a warm smile.

“Don’t worry about it ‘gumi-chan. Even if your dad doesn’t love me back, that’s never going to stop me from caring for you and Tsumiki, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Megumi is relieved to hear this, but he’s still worried about you. You’re hurting yourself by hoping Toji cares to one day love you.

“I…Okay.”

And that was the end of that conversation…until it wasn’t.

Later that year, a strange white haired man with black sunglasses came to their flat telling him he came to take him in. Before he could reject this weird man, you came out of the flat asking who he was. Turns out he’s called Gojo Satoru and he came with news about Toji.

At this you immediately invited him in, offering him something to drink, he says a glass of water will do fine. Once you give him his glass, he tells you Megumi should probably not be here for this conversation.

After Megumi’s allowed back into the main living space, he knows something has happened to Toji. Your head is hung low and your cheeks are damp with red eyes, clearly you’ve been crying. You wipe your face and beckon him over.

“Megumi, come here.”

He walks over to your place at the kitchen table and takes the seat next to you.

“This kind man here has an offer for us. We can either stay here and in two years time we join the Zen’in Clan, or we go with this man and live with him. You will need to train to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer once you’re older if we decide to go with him, so I thought I’d ask you-“

“If we stay here and join the Zen’in Clan, will you and Tsumiki be happy? They’re wealthy, right? We’d be okay financially-“

“I’m sorry to interrupt, however,”

You and Megumi turn to Gojo.

“If you want your sister and mentor to be happy, I can guarantee you they will be far from it if you join the Zen’in Clan. Trust me.”

“…well then, let’s go with him if he’s our best option.”

You smile at him and side hug him, placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head.

“Alright. Explain to Tsumiki and pack your things. I’ll come help you and Tsumiki in a second.”

Megumi slips out of his chair to head back to his room. Once you hear the soft click of Megumi’s door, your face drops as you place your face in your hands. You laugh bittersweetly.

“He really knows how to fuck things over, huh?… Did he really not say anything about me to you?”

“I’m sorry Mx. L/N, not a peep. If I knew you were in the picture, I would’ve knocked instead of talking to him directly first.”

You quietly hum to your self, whispering:

“Who would’ve thought I should’ve taken the advice of a six year old?”

The little six year old in question is on the other side of his bedroom door, listening to the conversation through the thin wood. So he was right, something did happen to Toji. He had warned you to let go of Toji. He knew one day Toji would hurt you one final time. Leaving you completely broken. Despite knowing this, he was seething inside and out. No one should make you feel like this. Especially not his sorry excuse of a father who only gave you the time of day when he wanted some pleasure.

He hates Toji Fushiguro. He hates him for never being around for his family. He hates him for neglecting him and Tsumiki to the point where they can’t even remember what he looks like. He hates him for a plethora of reasons, the list could go on. But, above all, he hates Toji Fushiguro for using you. He grits his teeth and clenches his fists. Just thinking about that despicable man makes blood boil.

“I hate you, Toji Fushiguro.”

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Please don’t copy or take as your own. Likes and reposts are appreciated!

[equinelifecountry]

Dancing On My Own

Azriel x y/n, Eris x y/n

warnings: angst?

summary: this was heavily inspired by the song dancing on my own by calum scott. It kind of gotten in a different direction then I wanted it to go but yeah!

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I made sure that I looked absolutely beautiful well the best that I could for being me I was definitely not as flawless as Elain I didn't even come close to compare. My eyes where not that pretty brown that shines in the sunset just right or my hair wasn't soft and had that golden glow to it. Look at myself in the mirror one last time the midnight black dress hugged my curves just right my curls flowed down my back a small smile ghosted on my face maybe he will finally notice me.

The party was at full swing by the time Rhysand picked me up and flew me to the house of wind everyone was already dancing, mingling and drinking their fill. "Thank you for the lift." I glanced over at Rhys he lightly bowed his head "The pleasure was mine y/n, please enjoy the party." he smile and made his way toward Feyre who looks stunning in her starry gown her smile grew has she made eye contact with Rhys her eyes caught mine and she grab a little wave I smile and then made my way towards the bar table. "Wow! You look absolutely stunning y/n!!" I nearly choked on my drink I turned and came face to face with Nesta and Cassian I nod my head "thank you, Cassian." I gave a small smile and turned "Nesta" I nod my head to her she did the same "I didn't think you would actually come." Nesta raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Well, I think it would have been rude if I didn't since Feyre invited me in person and I needed to get out the house..." I took a drink she just nodded and turned and walked away I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in "It will be okay." Cassian put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a soft smile and went to find his mate.

I still haven't noticed the two that I've been trying to avoid, well mostly I was hoping to at least see Azriel and for him to notice me and then maybe just maybe I'll tell him what has been on my mind since the before that day my sisters and I was dumped into the cauldron. I glanced my eyes to the dance floor and that's when I saw it. Elain in Azriel's arms dancing across the floor she smiled up at him, he looked at her like she was his whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

I forcedly wiped the tears from my eyes and turned towards the drink table grabbed a glass and downed it as quick as I could and then reached for another and did the same. if I have to stay here all night and watch those to fall in love in anymore, I'm going to need a good buzz to do so, fuck this. I glared back up and see the whole inner circle and my sister gathered around chatting and laughing without me figure that much. I have all ways been on outcast of our family, being the youngest of the sisters made it was I was pushed even farther aways from the afterthought of everything and everyone else I would think after turning High fae and after everything things would change clearly, I was so wrong.

Holding the glass so hard it might bust into a million pieces staring at the perfect found family that acts like I don't even exist I didn't notice the male approach my side and stood there "If you don't let go of that poor glass, we are going to have a mess to clean up." I jumped so hard and grabbed my chest trying to calm my racing heart, turning my body to face the person who scared the life out of me. "Oh, Eris!" I set my glass down and glared at him "You just scared me to death! Don't seek up on people like that!" putting my hands on my hips looking up at him and he gave me his devilish smirk. I never minded the new High Lord of Autum we actually grew a very close friendship through the short years I have been fae. "Why are you over here guarding the bar table?" he looked into my eyes, studying them. Shaking my head I looked back out towards the dance floor "well someone has to." I smirk playing on my lips I soon forgot why i was so angry a moment ago. I felt him move closer bending down close to my ear and he whispered, "well why don't you give up your post for a moment and come dance with me." I shiver ran down my back "looking has exquisite has you do you shouldn't be hiding on the side lines." I turned my head coming nose to nose with Eris looking into his eyes "I-I w-well..." I couldn't get my words out before he grabs my hand and drag me into the middle of the dance floor a smile grew across my face and I threw my head back and laugh, I real laugh Eris glance back at me with a smile across his face and a glow in his eyes.

Azriel's POV

A smile ghosted across my face while I took in my family all gather together laughing and smiling, glancing to the side I see Elaine holding her glass close to chest smiling brightly at Feyre and Nyx while the talk about something I am not sure I lost track of the conversation moment ago turn to see if anyone needs another drink I heard the my joyous laughter fill room bouncing off the walls, I could pick out that laugh anywhere. Turning to find the person behind the laugh, looking across the dance floor I see her, y/n spinning around the middle of the dance floor, smiling and laughing like I never seen her do she looks so free, so happy and at peace it made my smile grow even wider until I see the arm that reached out and grabbed her and lifted her up spinning with her... Eris, the smile that cover my face vanished and my blood ran cold my shadows started to swarm around. "Azriel... Azriel?" I felt a hand touch my arm and a shook it off and whipped my head around to see a worried Elaine and a confused Feyre looking at me the glance at Rhys, I felt claws coming down on my walls "what is he doing here?" I spoke to Rhys in my mind he took a moment to respond, "all the High Lords attended this year's Starfall, he is the new High Lord of Autum." I just glared at Rhysand and turn back to the dance floor now see them both in each other's embrace he smiled down at her, she looked at him like he was her whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

[angiehasakitten]

-`♡´- NOT A ROMANTIC PARADISE  

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ CHAPTER 6   ~   Karma?

{ WHAT TO KNOW }➤  This is HEAVILY inspired by the bl manhwa “No Love Zone” in which the main character ( fem!reader) is a newbie at the company. She has the worst luck in the romance department and always ends up heartbroken. That's when she sees Kamo Choso, who is her total type, but turns out to be her new boss and enemy… 

{ CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN }➤ Language, mention of smoking

{ WORD COUNT }➤ 3.3k

{ OTHER THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND }➤ I'll only be writing in 2nd person pov, so there won't be anything like y/n. Also this is based on my personal preferences so i'm sorry if it disappoints. Whenever something like “this is hsown” it indicates the readers toughts. 

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“It’s my turn to talk, isn’t it now?” He says as you glance up at him, seeing that annoyingly cute little grin on his face. “Do you seriously not remember me?” He asks, taking you aback with the sudden question. Was he going on about the time at the station again? Right now?

“We went to the same school.” He finally tells you, making you flinch and turn to him in complete confusion .  

Same school? Tats can’t be? If he really did go to the same school as you, why don’t you recognize him? Plus, why is he bringing this up now? Right after you confessed the fact that you like him…?

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CHOSO’S PAST FLASHBACK…

When Choso was at the age of seventeen, he looked completely unrecognizable.  He was . less than 170 centimeters tall - that’s also known as being under 5 feet and 6 inches- he wore glasses with rims that were far too thick,  and his body was skinnier and smaller than a twig. 

He was quiet in school, and the people who were considered  his friends were fairly similar to him in that way. With no reasons to stay out of school,  there were pretty peaceful school days. That involved him getting into no trouble, no drama, and not needing to worry about silly little things. Even so, there was a lucky someone he had eyes for. 

He would always watch  her from afar, jealousy filling his body as you were playfully sitting on  the tall, white haired, and blue eyed guy, Satoru Gojo’s lap. How could he not be jealous? Satoru was everyone's crush, literally every girl he knew liked that guy, at least at some point they did.  

“You’re heavy!” Satoru tried pushing you off him. “Get off, you little shit!” He would scold you, making you giggle as you clung to him, refusing to leave him alone. “Nuh uh, I don’t wanna!” You would snicker. 

“Ah– Are you monkeys even listening to me?!” Suguru said in annoyance as he groans, rolling his eyes as to how you are being so childish and having him repeat whatever he was saying for the third time. 

You roll your eyes back at him and flip him off. “I give zero fucks about your date, suguru.” You answer him bluntly, seriously not caring about his one of many other women that he met in the past week. 

He gets irritated and gets off his seat which was right behind Satoru’s, walking up to you and pinching your cheek hard. “Ow! Ow!” You whine dramatically  while swatting his hand away. “Are you gonna listen to me now?!” He gives you an alarming look. 

“It really hurts Geto!” You frown at him, even calling him by his last name. He couldn’t care less though, ruffling your styled hair roughly as his last hit, “So were you wrong?” He narrows his eyes at you, attempting to get you to admit to defeat. “I was wrong!” You lift your hand up in surrender. “Please stop now! I’m sorry!” You giggle around as you and Suguru continue to go back and forth with the bickering. 

Choso used to think that just looking at you was enough for hm to be satisfied, but when he came to his senses, it was like trying to pour spilled water back into a cup…

Mini flashback…

Choso stood before you as a stuttering mess, trying to get his words out before finally blurting out, “I- I like you…” He clenched his eyes shut in embarassment.  

“Hey, are you not coming?” Satoru interrupts the moment while impatiently calling for you to follow him as he wanted to go do something he found ‘fun’ again. You snicker at him and shoo him away from a far. “Just wait! I’ll be there in a minute, dumbass.” You yell back to Satoru as you then turn your attention back to the boy before you who had just confessed. 

“Hmm… sorry…” You begin as you slowly examine his appearance. “.. The face is everything to me.” You say so very nonchalantly that it was brutal to Choso. “You're tiny, so i'm not interested in you.” You finish off with a smile, thinking that made any of your hurtful words better to bare for the poor kid. 

Fast forward to Choso that night…

Choso laid flat back on his bed thinking about the previous events in his life. He was expecting to get dumped, it was almost a given to him, but the way you said all that? 

“Tiny…?” He repats that one word in his head while furrowing his brows in confusion.  He hoped it would be something that would’ve been forgoten after he graduated since it was a half-asked confession. With that , his first love ended in failure. 

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After graduation, he stood in line at a coffee shop. Now this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, besides the fact he was hot. Heis now tall, handsome of course, no more glasses seen on his face, and he was very muscular.  

“Your order is ready!” The barista called out to him after he had ordered. “Thanks.” He would simply jst answer politely yet dryly and she was already blushing like an alpha in heat. 

It was troublesome for Choso as his life changed so drastically. It had only been a few months after all, the sudden attention and change in everyone's behavior was something new to adapt to. 

“Wow, it must be nice being so popular wherever you go now.” His friend yuki nudges him playfully. 

“Don’t say unnecessary things.” He side glances at her in humiliation. 

“Are you going to pretend you're not used to this?” Yuki rolls her eyes and looks over at him with a slight tilt in the head. Choso just grunts and pushes her head a little roughly as a small fighting way. “I’m not used to the attention, yuki. I just had a growth spurt over the summer, that’s all.” He clearifies. 

Just then, he catches a glimpse of familiar hair through his peripheral vision, making his gaze turn over to see who it was. He recognized it almost imediately, It had to be you. Choso couldn’t be wrong, it’s your exact haircut and color! 

Choso was slowly brought back to the moment when the girl who he mistook you with turned over to look at her friend who had just walked  in the cafe. Choso felt a hinge of disappointment run over him when he realized it wasn’t you, but what if it was you? What would’ve changed? He wouldn’t walk up to you anyway so why was this feeling clinging to him? 

The truth is, he never ended up letting go of the past. How could he? You were his first love- his first confession, and his first rejection. It seems he is still chasing after the same memory after all this time. It has been months after all, plus, he is extremely attractive now, he can get anyone else he wants. 

Yuki was there to save his situation as she snapped him out of his thoughts. “Did you even hear anything I just said? What are you looking so intensely at? That's creepy you know.” She scolded him, playfully kicking his leg as she called im out as a ‘creep’. Choso shakes his head and grabs his drink before getting up from the table he was sitting at with his friend. “Let’s just go. I don’t wanna be late for our class, I have a career to chase, unlike you.” He rolls his eyes as Yuki starts bickering about how she is also trying to get a career, annoyed by his accusation. 

That’s when Choso made it his goal to become a brand new man. He wanted to forget everything about hi past and focus on the future. Years go by, he worked hard in University and got amazing grades. His hard work definitely paid off, because soon enough he was manager at a pretty big company. He was able to get his own luxurious place, settling in and being excited to start his brand new major job. This is it, his goal is complete- or so he thought. 

Then, on an early morning as he was calmly just strolling around his new neighborhood, he decided to take the subway, and that is when everything came back. You were there, beside him with a fair distance, both waiting for the transport to arrive. The way you both made eye contact, his memories all flung right back. You haven’t changed much from highschool, besides your figure maturing and maybe a change in style of hair and makeup, but other than that your face was the same. He assumed you recognized him, yet you didn’t. Instead you were gawking over him, finding him as eye candy. 

That moment only lasted maybe a minute or two as he soon got on the subway that arrived not too long after the two of you locked gazes. He assumed that was your last encounter with him until his first day at the job. He soon came to find out he was your boss. Quite interesting and endearing it seemed to him. What were the chances of this happening? The best part of it all was him seeing right through you and knowing you liked him. It was obvious with all the signs you were giving him. 

It was funny to him how you tried being sneaky with your glances, thinking you were slick with it. Choso would always just cringe to himself, yet he can’t deny the fact that it did feel good and ego boosting, watching as the tables have turned from him liking you years ago to you doing the same, only years later. 

Choso found your work sloppy, but what can he really do? That's right, he could play around with you for a bit. This is how the  strange actions started happening at work ever since, leading to your delusional thoughts.  

He found it funny when you would be talking to your friends, yapping as usual until Choso would purposlly  bump into you, watching as you apologize normally before you turn to see it was him standing behind you. It was pathetic, yet cute in a way,  to him how you started showing special treatment once you saw him, apologizing even more and getting all red and anxious. 

Well, now this is how you ended up in the position you were in at the moment. Sitting in your manager’s car as he reveals to you that he used to go to the same school as you. Choso wondered how you’d react once you found out who he really was. ..

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𓍢ִ໋🌷֒✧ ༘ ⋆｡♡𓍢ִ໋🌷֒✧ ༘ ⋆｡♡𓍢ִ໋🌷֒✧ ༘ ⋆｡♡

“Hmmm…” You hum in a thinking matter as you look off to the side, trying to remember anyone remotely close to Choso whom you might have met in school, yet nothing comes to mind. You look back at him with a small shrug before smiling. “You went to my high school, huh? That's so interesting!” You began, “I wonder why I can’t remember you, I bet you would’ve been popular back then, I guess my memory is going a little bad” You chuckle awkwardly. 

Choso glances at you before looking over at the road since he was driving you home. “Well, it has been years since we graduated.” He hHe says before speaking a bit more bluntly, “It’s either you don't remember, or it’s that you’re losing memory from old age.” 

You looked at him for any signs of him joking but he stayed so serious and nonchalant it made you stunned for a second. Seriously, how dare he just call you old when you were the same age?! You awkwardly and uncomfortably laugh and scratch your head. “Haha.. I guess that could be it.” You force out before noticing you were on your street already. “You can stop here mr. Kamo.” You tell him as you get your bag ready in your hands. 

Choso does as you say and stops the car, letting you walk out as he watches you. “Thank you for the ride,  because of you I was able to get home safely.” You bow your head slightly in a thankful manner. You stand up straight and fidget a bit with your nails. “About what I told you earlier..” You referred to your confession, “.. please don't worry about it if it’s troublesome-” 

Choso interrupts you as he nods in realization about the fact he didn’t give you an answer. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” He says as he thinks for a moment about his next words. “Sorry, the face is everything to me.” He says with the smallest smirk ever, mocking your words from years ago. After that, he drives off and leaves you in your thoughts. 

You stand there for a minute or maybe even three, repeating what he told you in your head. That line… it sounded familiar, as if you heard it somewhere before. Your brain seems to freeze in the moment before it clicks- No. Fucking. Way.

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SLAM!! Satoru yelps as his front door flies open, revealing a panicked figure standing in the door frame. “What the hell? You scared the shit out of me!!” He scolded as he walked over to you, letting you in as you looked at him desprately.

“Do you have it?!” You huff out, breathing heavily since you just ran all the way to his house at this time of night.

Satoru raises a brow at you, “Have what?” 

“Graduation album!!!” You raise your voice urgently.

“Probably in the office- wait- why are you needing it at this time today?!” He questions, but not fast enough as you’re already rushing into the room. He follows behind you and watches as you rummage through his book shelf, finding the album and rapidly opening it and flipping pages. 

You flip and examine each page quickly, searching for the name ‘Kamo Choso’ anywhere at all. Suddenly youspot the name, seeing a nerdy looking boy, the one you rejected to be specific. You scream in doom as you fall to the floor in horror, making Satoru flinch and just watch blankly in confusion. “How is this anywhere close to the same person!!!” You yell to yourself. 

After a good half hour, Satoru was able to drag you over to the couch so you wouldn’t be on the cold floor in such distress. Currently, he was on the phone with who you assumed was Suguru. He was asking him if he knew what the hell you were on to be acting like this, crying on the couch as if someone just died. 

All your memories popped right back in as you felt so embarassed.  How couldn’t you tell all along? Choso was hinting it all along by asking if you remembered him, how badly it hurt you that he knew all along yet you were too blind to realize that he was the kid you rejected. To be fair, he looks nothing like he used to look like in school. That didn’t help you from balling your eyes out at the pure humiliation as he even used the same words you used to reject him.

“Satoru…” You sob to him. “I won’t go to work tomorrow.. Call me in sick, please!!” You cry harder. He just rolls his eyes and smacks you with a pillow. 

“You’re saying bullshit again. I’m tired, so get your ass home or go shower and settle in the guest room.” He says before getting off the couch, disappearing into his room. You didn’t have a choice but to shower and attempt to sleep, yet you failed as you weren't able to fall asleep at all. 

You sat on Satou’s balcony as you sat there ghostly looking , smoking a cigarette after doing so good at quitting for your siblings. You sigh as you rest your head on your knees,  getting into your depression mode. 

You then prop your head up a bit as you think about everything. This stuff happens in life all the time. After all, who would’ve recognised him? So you should be okay right?  Wrong. Your mind drifts off making you guilty again. You were the one who rejected him for his appearance, now this was your karma. That’s right, all because you went for a face. 

You scream into your hand as you try to get all these thoughts away. Why did your life have to always be like this? You just want love yet you can’t get what you want even if your life depended on it. 

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You stare at your desk as you get to the office. Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna go? Then again, who is gonna make the money? You sigh as you slide into your seat, grumbling in frustration. What was the point of all this, just kill yourself at this point. 

To make things ten times ‘better’ you hear your name being called out, as well as a big hand was placed on your shoulder. Of course it had to be Choso. He was probably doing this shit on purpose. 

“Let's go to the meeting room, it’s time.” He says before walking away, making you remember about the company meeting you had to go to. 

“Ah, yes..” You say before quickly getting your notes that you were required to have for the meeting,making your way there shortly after. 

You sit in the meeting room, distracted with your thoughts. While you remain  zoned out, Choso explains how sales in the company were decreasing per contract, which led to the solution of having them remake a new contract that would guarantee higher sales. Not to mention, he wanted this all to be brought to him by the next morning. 

As Choso held the meeting, you can’t help but feel aggravated with the thought of the night prior. Face is everything, huh? You said that because you were a childish kid in school,it has been a whole decade and he can’t let that go? Plus, if face is everything, was he saying something was wrong with yours?! That made your blood boil-

“We’ll leave all this to you. Remember, I expect to receive everything by tomorrow morning.” You hear Choso say to you directly. The room fell silent. Out of everyone he makes you do all the work.

What. The. Fuck.

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ CHAPTER 6 COMPLETE     

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{ A/N }➤ OKAY OKAY OKAY.. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LACK OF POSTING.. 

I was so very caught up with finals and exams that I just had NO TIME TO WRITE. 

PLEASE UNDERSTAND AND I PROMISE I'LL TRY TO POST MUCH MUCH MORE. 

ANYWAYS…

I hope everyone is doing well!! I hate how you guys knew Choso would be that kid but OH WELL!!! 

ALRIGHT WELL GOOD NIGHT GUYS IMA GO TRY TO CHECK MY SPELLING AND UPLOAD FOR YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also thoughts so far? =.=

LOVE YOU MY LITTLE KITTENS !!!! (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗)

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last chap ~ next chap

[amerasdreams]

there is so much in this world, so much to learn and create, but we have to be stuffed in these narrow little jobs! Minds shriveling into limited boxes, shrinking into worn redundant patterns

[anyoldfandom]

The problem with starting to think about the Pack more is the fact that now I want to grab Skalamander the same way I grabbed Bobo like. My house now. I want to use your character potential.

[yuribalisms]

I hope rats chew away at the electrical wires in all the management’s houses and cause electrical fires and they all explode

[poptartmochi]

i don't mind doing the heavy lifting wrt Adult Things ie insurance, house closing, storage, etc etc. what bugs me is that most times, my mom is pretty unwilling to help when I run into a wall and don't know what to do

[noxtivagus]

this question for one of my assignments is so funny ( under tags bcs.. idk it's just a screenshot but i get shy w sharing stuff like this from irl ><; )

[imma-potatoo]

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[anarkhebringer]

Y'know there's a lot of shit going on in my head that immediately makes more sense once I remember I have aphantasia

[neverendingford]

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[fayes-fics]

Eden

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...

I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.

Word Count: 4.2k

Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3

Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 

Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.

“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 

“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 

“Are you sure?” 

You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 

“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.

“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 

Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.

“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.

“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.

The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.

“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.

——

“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.

“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.

“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.

“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 

“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.

“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.

“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”

“Hey…!” Benedict protests.

“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”

You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 

“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 

You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.

“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.

“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.

As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.

——

“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 

Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 

“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.

“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.

“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 

The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 

“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”

You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.

Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”

You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”

“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”

“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.

“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.

You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.

He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 

Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.

“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.

Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 

“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 

You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.

He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.

“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.

“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.

“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.

This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 

“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  

He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.

“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”

You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.

“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.

With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 

As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.

He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.

“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.

“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 

“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”

Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.

“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 

“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.

You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 

You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.

“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.

With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.

Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.

“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”

“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.

“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 

He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 

“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.

Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.

“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 

“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.

He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 

Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.

You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.

“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.

He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.

You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.

“Perfect..” he intones.

In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 

“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.

His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…

“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.

“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.

Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.

“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”

He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.

You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.

You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.

“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.

That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.

“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.

——

As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.

“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.

“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.

“Even if it is a girl?!”

“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.

He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.

“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.

“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.

“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”

There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.

“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.

“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”

“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.

The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.

——

9 months later

Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.

But it was all worth it.

What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.

“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.

You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”

His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.

“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”

“Four?” he petitions with a wink.

You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.

“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 

Which to you both, they are.

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