#I wish you the best in your endeavours

[cerise-on-top]

Could I request gn reader, who happens to be insecure about wearing feminine clothing, asking the 141 (+Laswell) if they would be willing to wear a dress with them?

(Take as much time as you need, don't overwork yourself lovie! Your writing is always the highlight of my day- I love it so much!! ❤️)

Hello! Thank you for reading my silly little writing, I always try my best! Wearing feminine clothing can be a bit rough, I get it, but I'm cheering you on, anon ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡ I hope you'll feel more comfortable soon, because clothing like that can be absolutely adorable! Either way, thank you for the request, I hope it's to your liking!

TF141 and Laswell Wearing a Dress with GN!Insecure!Reader

Price: It would start out simple: You’d ask him to wear a dress with you and he would immediately say no. Dresses are simply not his style, he knows he would never look good in one. Besides, would there even be any in his size? A dress to accommodate someone as big and burly as him? He doesn’t think so, and he doesn’t think he’d feel comfortable in one either. It would take your heartbroken eyes, almost quivering voice, that would make him consider otherwise. He’ll apologize for being so harsh with you and will try to get his point across, he’s just not a dress guy. You’d need to explain your own situation to him, that you want to feel more comfortable wearing feminine clothing and you thought having someone to wear something along the lines of that with you would help. Go into detail, if you have him considering and weighing his options for up to a minute, followed by a deep sigh, you know you’ve won. Your happiness seems to even be over his own comfort. However, he will not wear a dress in public, only at home. He’s a captain and does have the mindset that something like a dress isn’t for guys like him. Not that he has a problem with guys wearing dresses, god knows he’s caught Gaz and Soap wearing them before, but he has a reputation to uphold. Whichever dress it ends up being, you’re the one to choose it since he has no idea what would fit someone like him in the first place. The only wish he has is that it ends up being beige or any other kind of brown. It’s what he’s used to the most. While it would take quite some time to get him to dress up the first time, he’s more willing after that. He does feel embarrassed to be wearing a dress, but it isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Give him a heartfelt compliment about how good he looks and you’ll get him to blush.

Gaz: Although he’s only ever worn dresses as a joke, he does quite like the aesthetic of them. As mentioned previously, he and Soap have dressed up before simply because they felt like it and wanted to see if they would look good in a dress. So, yeah, he actually owns two or three dresses that he thinks fit him quite well, even though he never told you that. So don’t be surprised if he suddenly leaves the room and comes back with two dresses in his hands. You can choose which one he should wear, one is simply black and the other one is a pretty yellow. His favorite is the black one since it’s a bit more flowy and doesn’t hug his curves as much as the yellow one, but both look good on him. So, you don’t particularly need to explain your situation to him for him to be on board. Will make it a competition on who looks better in feminine clothing, even if he insists you always win. You’re just too pretty and beautiful to pass up. Considering he’s comfortable enough in his masculinity to do traditionally feminine things as well, he will pose for you if you ask him to, just to show off. He may not go out too far in public, your garden is probably as far as it goes, but if you really like seeing him in dresses then he might even consider a cute skirt as well. Anything to make you feel more comfortable in your skin. This guy is pretty flexible, if you’re roughly the same size and your dresses fit him, then he might wear them as well just to show you how good they look. Overall he really hypes you up, tries to do what he can to make you happy. After all, if someone like him, a sergeant in the SAS, can look good wearing feminine clothing, then so can you. 

Ghost: He raises an eyebrow upon hearing that suggestion. Why? He’s not as opposed as Price, but he wants to hear a good reason as to why someone like him, 1,95m with muscles to match, should wear a dress. Once you explain the situation to him, he’ll sigh, but comply. He doesn’t own a dress, he never even thought he’d find one that would a) fit him and b) look good on him. You’d probably need something tailored specifically to him since he’s a very broad guy. Once you’ve got something for him, though, he’s not particularly picky. You want him to wear a pink strawberry dress? Sure, why not. Very nonchalant about it, this is more about you than him, after all. Although it would look interesting, he’d go for a sleeveless dress since that way he won’t have to worry about him accidentally flexing the sleeves off. It likely wouldn’t be too easy to find something like it, but he would prefer a flowy dress as well, not everyone needs to see how well defined he is. Would probably like a small motif on the dress as well, nothing too big or exciting, though. Once he’s wearing that dress, he would check himself out in the mirror, wanting to see how he’d actually look. He wouldn’t look too bad in that dress, but then again, he’s a rather handsome man in general. While he would hope for you to agree that he doesn’t look too terrible, he wouldn’ take it to heart if you disagreed with him. Once you’re wearing a dress yourself, he’d probably blush a bit. It’s a rather unusual sight, but you look so good in one, it’s unbelievable. Ghost may not normally be the most touchy person, but he would offer his hand to you to help you with spinning around. He wants to see you from every angle, see just how lovely you look.

Soap: He has experimented with dresses before as well, just to goof around with Gaz, but he never would have thought he’d ever wear one again. He didn’t keep his dress, he gave it to Gaz and left it at that. So it was a bit surprising when you came up to him and asked him to wear a dress with him. He’d give you a goofy grin and ask you why, a bit nervous. Would you just make fun of him, being a guy who has worn a dress? As soon as you explain your reasoning, he calms down a bit and is down. He even takes more of an active role when you go dress shopping together, asking you if this and that would look good on him. Soap simply picks out something he likes, tries it on if it would fit, and takes it home if there’s no discomfort. If it was up to him, he’d go for something with frills, something big and exciting that would draw the attention of just about anyone. However, he couldn’t find something like that when he went shopping with you, so he opted for something smaller that hugged him nicely. Once he wears that dress, the only complaint he has about it is the fact he hadn’t shaved his legs, other than that he checks himself out in the mirror even more thoroughly than Ghost. He needs to know how hot he is in a dress, and you should tell him that as well. He isn’t uncomfortable at all and will walk throughout your home as though he was a model on the walkway. Laughs a bit when he sees his muscles bulging through the sleeves, but is still careful to not tear them. As soon as you walk in, his eyes are glued on you and he tells you just how gorgeous you look, how you should absolutely wear dresses more often than you do since you’re stunning and beautiful. He means all of it too, by the way, so it’s not just empty talk. You wearing a dress does something to him.

Laswell: As one can imagine, she has also worn dresses before, but they’re not her favorite article of clothing. In fact, if she can avoid them, she will. Not that she’s insecure or anything, she just thinks she looks better in a jacket. Skirts aren’t her cup of tea either. While she’s been on covert ops where she had to wear them, she’s glad she usually doesn’t have to. However, she isn’t entirely opposed to wearing them, so you can walk up to her just about any time and ask her to wear a dress with you. Might be a bit miffy when she’s wearing a dress in public, but your comfort comes first. She’s pretty good with fashion, so she can actually help you find something that looks very good on you, as well as on her. She’s so sweet about it too, giving you tips and showing you tricks on how to make it fit better and how to feel more comfortable. Since she’s not the tallest, most muscular person, it’s not too hard for her to find something. She would go for something with sleeves since it’s a bit warmer that way. If possible, she would go for something matching with you. Something flowy and nice that won’t make you too uncomfortable for the time being. When you’re wearing your dress, she’ll compliment you first and foremost. Laswell is good with words, so she’ll know exactly what to say to ease your anxiety. But even if you can’t shake off your discomfort immediately, don’t worry too much about it. If it makes you feel better, then Laswell will wear dresses with you more often so the both of you can get used to it. You’ll grow desensitized to it eventually, but it’s important to start small. Besides, if you really want to start wearing feminine clothing, Laswell will support you. She has the money to buy or tailor you just about anything, so the cutest, prettiest clothing will be yours if you allow her to get it for you.

[limjiminz]

230522 ✧ HAPPY LIM JIMIN DAY!

[mimicteruyo]

After jumping the gun by over a year and making such a mess of the initial draft that I had to scrap the entire thing, I have finally written a functional chapter outline for working title Ain't Your Fairytale.

[onepiecepositivityproject]

@fluffyartbl0g i really love ur art... can't stop scrolling through your blog... so much to look at... your kind words inspired me to start creating myself... thank you for that…

[ehlnofay]

How do you write so much? It’s really amazing and your writing is gorgeous. I usually like I’m dragging myself painfully slowly through the first draft phase, what do you do to keep yourself going when the writing gets tough? Also, your characters are all so compelling and I love the way you build out and explore the worldbuilding.

oh my gosh this is so nice... I don't think I'll have much advice, unfortunately (I've been writing since I was a young child so the process for me is pretty instinctive and based in years of habit) but I'm happy to share what I think works for me!

the most important thing for me, I think, is making a habit of it. I set myself a word goal and try to meet it every day. at the moment it's 1k (anything above 800 words is acceptable though) but for years before that it was 500, and when I was 11 I distinctly recall it was Approximately Two Word Document Pages since I hadn't figured out how to check the word count yet. I try not to push myself when I'm really really not feeling it or beat myself up when I'm not able to meet that goal (still working on that lol) but I do try to at least make an attempt, even on the days where I'd kind of rather not. a few terrible words is better than no words - it keeps me in the habit and gets something on the page which might give me ideas later even if I end up scrapping it. writing is like a muscle - it takes less mental energy the more you do it, and it always surprises me how quickly it adds up even if you're doing a small amount each sitting

as to feeling like it's slow going - I Get It. for the last couple years I've been almost only writing my collections of elder scrolls short pieces and it's honestly been great for me because if I get sick of writing a part of a story or even a character I can just switch. I hop between characters and story beats a ton and it helps things feel new and interesting while still slowly building out the same stories over time. an unfortunate side effect of doing so many short pieces is that my ability to do longer stuff that isn't a collection of scenes arranged is EXTREMELY atrophied (slowly planning some attempts at longer pieces to try to fix that a bit)

ooh also I Highly recommend planning out a scene before you write it. loosely in your head or scribbled out beforehand. I'm able to write so much more effectively when I know roughly where I'm going and how I'm getting there... I have a few outlines scribbled out in my sticky notes and they are completely incomprehensible but serve their purpose of sketching out the scene and reminding me of lines or images I wanted to include (e.g."just a ramble? is he safe? of course not. it's the first time lydia has spoken to a dragon.")

honestly as immediately unhelpful as it is, all I can really say is practice. play around with stuff so that you're having fun with it. figure out what you like and where your strengths lie and what you want to get better at. if you get sick of sticking to the same things all the time switch it up. if you want to try something new then do it. try not to get frustrated with your pace. a little bit is better than none the world is your oyster you have time I believe in you!!!!

[pseudowho]

You hadn't heard Kento arrive home, but moved from garden to living room like a moth to the flame, when you heard the telltale clink-clink of him removing his harness.

You sidled up behind him, a tease in your voice, dragging one languid finger down his spine.

"What's a guy like you, doing in a place like this, huh?"

A low chuckle. "I'm sure I'm meant to be here."

You bit your lip. "Me too. It must be fate. Does your wife know you're here, Mr...?"

"Nanami. And I certainly hope she does."

You weaved your way round to face him, now, sliding your hands from broad chest to shoulders, all peaks and valleys of stone.

"And what would she say," you whispered, circling one fingertip over his chest until he shivered, lifting one knee to brace against his hip, "if she knew there was someone like me, here?" Kento looked down at you, honey-rich eyes narrowing, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"That's what you want, is it?" He whispered back, low voice barely audible in the moonlight-flood living room. "A little...roleplay?" Your eyes glimmered at him in confirmation, and he chuckled. "Alright, then." You felt yourself tremble with anticipation.

Abrupt and firm, his smile replaced by a scowl, Kento removed your leg from his hip.

"Get your hands off me."

You gawped at him. Kento stepped back, clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie, the wedding ring glinting on his finger.

"I'll excuse you, just once, but I'm a married man. Happily."

"Kento, I--"

"That's Mr.Nanami to you. I don't recall us ever meeting, and I don't enjoy such intimate familiarity with strangers."

"--you are just so--"

"I'm sorry for whatever has happened in your life, for you to have such little self-respect, or respect for others, that you have such ill-intent towards a married man--"

You withered onto the sofa under his cool tirade.

"--but I wish you all the best in your future endeavours, while I wait for my wife."

"You are a fucking nightmare--"

"And how did you get in my house? I'll give you ten seconds to leave, before I call the police--"

You screamed into a sofa cushion.

"--do you have somewhere safe to go? Are you hungry? Thirsty, certainly. I can pay for a taxi--"

You felt your soul leave your body.

"--I do hope we don't meet again--"

You laughed, humourless, face down in the pillow.

"-- good day to you."

Kento walked away to the bathroom, leaving you prone and mortified on the sofa. You heard the shower start to run. You lifted your head, shouting at him, furious in your laughter.

"Fuck you for being so fucking pure, Mr.Nanami! Your wife is a lucky woman!"

A deep laugh from the bathroom. "Yes, she is."

[horanghoe]

lol. I'm so glad you're leaving the hub, high-key. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

This is so tea that all it takes is a leaving post for the cunts worms to come out of the woodwork - and on anon too??? I am spoiled lol

[trappolia]

SUNDAY IS FOR REST ── sunday x halovian!reader, 918

"do be careful, my dove," he murmurs as you straighten out the light feathers behind his ear.

"you haven't preened yourself in a while, have you?" your voice is soft, a hint of chiding to it that makes his heart flutter — there's a groggy rasp to your tone as well, having just stirred from your own dreams. sunday dares not look back at you, for there is a sweet domesticity to be found in the impression of rumpled bedsheets against your cheek and the heavy-lidded eyelids that make it known that you would love nothing more than to go back to sleep — proper sleep.

a hum resonates in sunday's chest as he allows himself to be fully immersed in the moment; early morning, messy hair and feathers, the sleepy press of lip against lip. his head tilts to the side, allowing greater access for you to tidy the feathers in question.

"you are correct. there's no need for me to do such preening in the dreamscape, though i prefer it when you offer your generous help," he replies, a mix of contentment and fondness pervading his voice.

"i'll help you only if you stay still," you grumble. your hands, which were straightening out his feathers, are now hovering just above them as sunday tries very hard not to shift in place again.

he cannot help it, truly. it is not just the factor that sunday is unused to, well, anyone touching something as intimate as his halovian wings, but also the fact that the slightest brush of your skin against his is a sensation like no other.

not that he would ever tell you, of course.

sunday nods, a silent affirmation that he will try his best to remain still, although a trace of a smile dances upon his lips. as you resume tending to his wings, each brush of your fingers brings a newfound appreciation for the sensation of your touch. he can feel the slight tingle, akin to electricity, every time your skin makes contact with his wings.

"my apologies," he murmurs, a chuckle slipping past his lips — as if he is not willing his chest to rise and fall rhythmically, having to manually breathe under your intimate ministrations. "i shall endeavour my utmost to be an inanimate statue. your wish is my command."

"haha," you say dryly.

in spite of your tone, sunday cannot help but chuckle at your jest. a cruel man he is, to find amusement in your grumpiness in the early morn. your nimble fingers gently untangle his feathers, and the sensation is a mix of tingles and warmth that spread across his wings. the act of having someone, especially someone he holds in such high esteem, tend to these parts of him that are reserved for only the most intimate moments is endearing, to say the least.

as you work, your movements deliberate and precise, your lover muses softly, "only you could make tending to feathers feel like a luxury."

"it is a luxury when you are not the one doing it yourself," you huff, hands moving around with practiced ease: smoothing a feather here, tugging a broken one out there.

sunday's chest rumbles with barely suppressed laughter at your huff of annoyance, but he remains true to his word and does all he can to keep still. his skin feels electrified with each brush of your touch, even more potent than before, and he wonders idly if it's because he's aware of how much effort you're taking in taking care of him. he is always the one caring and fussing, rather than being cared for and fussed over. it is strange, for the tables to be turnt. strange, had it been anyone else but you.

"perhaps," he manages to say between bouts of laughter, reaching back to catch one of your wrists and presses a chaste kiss upon it. "we could make a habit of this."

"is it truly proper of the head of the oak family to make a habit of keeping himself less than pristine?" you murmur.

how embarrassing; the passing thought occurs to sunday at your words. indeed, it is unbecoming for him, who stands at a position of such power and authority, to be so unkempt, so careless around you. it feels… freeing.

and so his response is a gentle tug upon your wrist, guiding your arms to wrap around his shoulders and link with his fingers. with a smile full of affection and a touch of teasing, he gently brushes his thumb over the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

"i am simply indulging in the pleasure of being cared for," he answers in that same gentle rumble. "and if that means i am a tad bit less than pristine as a result, so be it."

"i suppose so," you hum, and from where sunday sits in between your legs, he feels you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder. your own wings tickle his cheek, like a lover's kiss in the early morning. "preen me next?"

a low rumble resonates somewhere deep in his chest at the feeling of your breath against his neck. the closeness you've allowed between you is not something sunday takes lightly, and he relishes in it with every beat of his heart.

"with pleasure," he answers, unable to help the upwards tug of his lips as he squeezes your palms.

"let me take care of you, my dove — as you do to me."

© trappolia 2024

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 

however, that’s when you came along. 

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo. 

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 

again, neither of you care. 

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 

“are you sure, baby?” 

“please—“ 

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 

“o-oh! seishiro!” 

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 

“do you think I can do it?” 

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[iwritefandomimagines]

NO LONGER IN DENIAL

masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader

description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3

“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”

Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.

Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.

“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”

“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”

“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”

“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.

“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”

Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”

“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.

Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.

Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.

“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”

Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.

He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.

With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.

Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.

Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.

Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.

Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.

It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.

The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.

He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.

“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”

You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”

You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.

The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.

The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.

“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”

“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”

You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”

“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”

His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.

You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”

Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”

The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.

When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.

“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”

“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.

“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”

Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”

“I—,”

“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.

With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.

The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.

You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.

“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.

“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.

He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”

Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.

“I was so sure—,”

“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.

He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”

“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”

“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”

You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”

He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.

He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.

But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.

He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.

“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”

“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”

“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”

“Anthony—,”

“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”

You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.

You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.

And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.

“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,��� you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”

He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.

Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.

“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.

“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”

His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.

“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,

“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”

You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”

You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.

But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.

“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.

“I cannot wait, my dear.”

“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”

“Sleep well, my love.”

As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.

“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”

———

hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[uglypastels]

Your Logan fics have been great. I enjoy your style and how you write him. It’s so so good.

I had an idea while reading the brainwashed reader one:

Logan is on a mission to a bunker or lab or something for the X-men. Charles requested told him he had to go and help Scott. They go to this bunker and it ends up being a rescue for some mutants that were being experimented on and one of them once back at the mansion is having issues with controlling their power, and Charles asks Logan to help them. I picture the power being very volatile so Logan is there to help because he can take a hit and heal from it. Cause the reader is too scared to use the power on anyone and Charles told them he had the perfect teacher.

thank you so much!!

shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with the details of this thing. had a lot of fun, as always, writing this request, so please keep em coming yall.

warnings: implied PTSD. platonic teacher/student dynamic. fire. explosions. swearing. anxiety. lots of banter and fluff.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

It had been two weeks since you had moved into the Mansion. Moved in. That’s all that you could bring yourself to call it, doing your best to not think about anything up to the moment that you had been ushered inside the large building and given a room to stay in for as long as you pleased. It had taken at least three days for you to actually get out of there, to let yourself roam the halls freely, reminding yourself that it was safe. 

For you, at least. No one would harm you here.

But not the same could be said about the rest.  

You had never been fully capable of controlling your powers, feeling more like they controlled you instead. When you were held captive, it was them who held power over both. But now that you were free, it was time for things to change. That much had been clear from the second you set foot in the mansion.

Professor Xavier had given you permission to make use of the Danger Room to train as long as you were under the supervision of one of the faculty members—something that should have given you comfort but instead only formed more anxieties.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ you confessed.

‘You can’t do this on your own,’ the Professor smiled softly. ‘As with any skill, a fine mentor is the first step to succeeding.’

You weren’t sure about that, but also knew that alone, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere anyway. 

‘Don’t worry,’ the Professor read your mind. ‘I have just the teacher for you.’

⮿

You had recognised Logan as the man who had helped you escape. Who held your hand and hadn’t let go until you stopped shaking. Who gave you soft reassuring smiles whenever you saw eachother across the corridors, reminding you that were alright here.

You knew he was a skilled fighter, but, truthfully, you had not expected him to be the one Professor Xavier assigned as your supervisor in this training endeavour.

‘Show me what you got, kid.’ He said as he took off his leather jacket, and you immediately wish he hadn’t.

‘It’s probably better to keep it on.’ You stated, wincing at his exposed skin. He looked up at you, taking a moment to comprehend what you meant until the nickel fell with recognition.

‘Right.’ He put the jacket back on and leaned against the wall as you watched him expectantly for further instructions. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘You know what I do.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

‘Explain it to me again.’ He shrugged.

‘Well… I set things on fire.’ The words came out apprehensively.

‘No. I said, explain it to me. Dumb it down like I was a five year old.’ This felt ironically hard to do as you felt like he knew more about your power at this moment than you ever had.

‘I don’t understand—’

‘To be able to control your abilities, you got to understand it.’ Logan clarified. ‘Know what it is that you’re actually doing and you’ll know what to do to keep it contained.’

Yeah, if put like that, it made sense. It also sounded far easier than it was. Understand it, and you’ll be able to control it. Sure. You thought for a moment, back to school and the damn chemistry classes you hated, but now suddenly started to feel rather useful. ‘I uhh… manipulate atoms, rearranging them with the air and heat around them to cause objects to catch a flame.’

‘That’s more like it.’ He praised, and even though it barely meant anything, you felt yourself smile at the kind words. ‘How much have you got it under control?’ But then the question and his inquisitive glare down at you made you feel very aware of your body and your mind.

‘With uhm— with enough concentration I mostly I target the right object, but once the fire is up, I can’t contain it.’ Which was the most important part. If uncontained, the fire would just spread, destroying everything in its way. That much you already knew. You still woke up screaming from the memories of the radiant flames and screaming all around you.

‘And, nothing personal, but I gotta ask, controlling the fire also falls under your division?’ He had crossed his arms.

‘Uhm…’ you didn’t know how to respond to that. 

‘Only asking because we had this kid Jonny who could control fire, but he needed a spark to start it. Maybe you two are two sides of the same coin?’

‘No, I have managed it before. But never long. It would go up and down and up again, the way I wanted it to, but it was exhausting and then I couldn’t handle it and it would all go  to shit.’ You started rambling, and just like the fires, you couldn’t get yourself to stop.

‘Alright, alright.’ Logan spoke calmly. ‘First thing we gotta do is work on you.’

You blinked slowly.

‘It’s all the same with you elemental kind. It’s all in your head. If you can’t get your emotions under control, then the fire will never go out.’

‘That… makes sense.’ You took a deep breath and thought of all things sweet and soft and calm.

‘Alright, I haven’t got all day.’ He clapped his hands, and you tried to not let the loud sound get to you. 

Let the games begin. 

⮿

A few weeks went by, and you wish you could have said you were making progress. 

No, you had to be kinder to yourself. There was progress. It just wasn’t at the pace you had hoped to reach at this point. Logan had helped you with your targeting, and you could proudly say that you had reached an estimated 98% accuracy score. The larger objects you had no problem with, but the smaller and the further away things were, the more you seemed to struggle. Which was perfectly fine, Logan reminded you.

‘You expect to be able to hit a bullseye in the dark from a hundred yards away?’ 

‘I’m sure some people could,’ you mumbled, frustrated as you watched the wrong matchbox in the near line of 4 burn to a pile of ashes.

‘Beating yourself up about it is not gonna help you, kid.’ Logan said, already replacing the box with a new one. ‘Again.’

Knowing that complaining about his training methods would not help either, you simply squinted and focused on the third matchbox, doing your best to ignore the other ones lying around. They simply did not exist. All there was, was this one stupid matchbox— whoosh, and suddenly, the box was no more, just a pilar of blue flames. In your excitement at having finally hit your target, you had completely forgotten to keep the fire down. 

‘Shit, shit, sorry.’ You did your best to suppress it, but it seemed like the fire was in a funny mood today and decided to do the exact opposite of your demands as it grew by the second until Logan had no choice but to drench it with a bucket of water. 

⮿

‘Have you gone mad?’ You stared blankly up at Logan, who–much too confidently, in your opinion– positioned himself a few paces ahead of you. A cigar in hand. 

‘It’s clear that you need some incentive.’

‘I don’t think your death wish can be called that.’ You protested. ‘I’m not doing it.’ ‘Yeah you are.’ He simply said. ‘I’m the teacher. I’m telling you to light the damn thing, so get on with it,’ he growled as he put the cigar between his teeth.

‘Actually insane.’ You said to yourself. ‘There is no way this is going to end well.’

‘Focus sweetheart.’ He did his best to look calm and composed, but you saw how his shoulders tensed as you prepared to do the task. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, but you just had to block it out. All of him had to cease to exist. All you saw was the tip of the cigar. The tiniest layer of tobacco, the–

You shrieked as Logan’s face disappeared behind a cloud of black smoke as the cylinder in his mouth exploded. 

‘Oh my god, Logan!’ You ran to him, relieved as you heard him cough. With the smoke gone, you were happy to realise that it had only been the cigar that had exploded, leaving behind the tiniest but right where Logan had held it in his mouth. The rest of it combusted all around him. ‘Are you alright?’ 

His entire face was black with soot. You watched him wipe it off his eyes, blinking sporadically, clearly dazed from the explosion. You edged to repeat your question of concern, but before you had the chance to, Logan held a thumb up, spit the bud of the cigar out, and coughed out another thick cloud of smoke. 

‘All’s good, bub.’ And you would have believed him if not for the fact he sounded like a cat that had just been suffocated, his burnt throat squeaking out the vibrations of his voice. ‘Let’s try—’ he was about to suggest another exorcise before he erupted in another coughing fit. 

Easy to say you had called it a day after that.

⮿

‘Alright, easy now.’ Logan directed you. 

‘I know what I’m doing, Lo.’ You retorted. All day long, he had been just non-stop talking, making it very hard for you to focus on the job at hand.

‘Do you?’ He quipped, making you glare back at him just long enough for the fire to double in size. You cursed as you held it back down—at least, that’s something you were able to do now. 

‘You got to focus.’ He came over to you as you put the fire out completely.

‘Well, stop distracting me.’ 

‘That’s easy enough here, but what do you think out there’s gonna be like?’ He cocked his head at the walls, indicating the outside world, where indeed, there were distractions aplenty. ‘No one’s gonna give you time to do your breathing exercises in the real world, kid.’

‘Then why give them to me in the first place?’

‘I’m not the one you want to fight,’ was all he said in response. It had been months, and by now, he knew all there was to know about you in the learning environment. He knew how to push your buttons, fire you up and hose you back down. He could tell what you were thinking and it was infuriating that you could not figure out the same about him.

But, suppose that’s what made him the teacher and you the student.

‘Sorry,’ you sighed, letting yourself fall onto the ground, pulling your knees up to your chin. ‘It’s just so frustrating. We’ve been here for months and—’

‘And we’ll stay here for months more if that’s what you need to improve yourself.’ He squatted beside you. ‘You got this. No need to give up now. Or else my time here’s really been a waste, and I don’t take to that too kindly.’ He gave you that smile that once had only been reserved for quick passes in the hallway but now had become the favourite part of your nearly daily training sessions.

‘Sorry,’ you laughed. 

‘Don’t be.’ He got up, extending his hand as leverage as you got back onto your feet as well. ‘Think you got one more in you for today?’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[soapoet]

what's next in love...? [ singles ]

detailed af.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

it seems like you've been living life half awake, daydreaming of many scenarios you'd wish come true. even in established relationships you may find yourself wishing for more of something. you may have been told your ideals are naive, to lay off the romcoms and fics and be a little more realistic. you may have found yourself excited at every prospect of new love, giddy and involved, endlessly curious and a true lover of the rose coloured glasses. and perhaps you've found plenty of reasons to rejoice, but somehow things eventually trickle down and get into the mundane and the routines. and it frustrates you. so much. is there really no one out there whose loving gestures and kind words don't become clockwork, expected chores and scripted events?

there is. and this one feels a little 'too good to be true'. you yourself may sooner rather than later find yourself pinching your arm to check if you're actually awake. i suggest you try to hold back on the told-you-so's to the naysayers, as some of them have your best interest at heart. and not only that, but will provide a lot of guidance and support in terms of navigating this next chapter in love. it'll be a bit of a whirlwind and a maze, but with much promise at the end as a reward.

if you've been sitting on some sort of project, waiting to launch yourself into a new endeavour, you should get back on track. especially if you've been procrastinating. somewhere down that path, there's a person you ought to meet. they relate to your goals somehow, perhaps having done the same themselves before. they have a lot to teach you and will become a priceless source of support, but don't expect things to be handed to you. your work is your own and your rewards will be bigger and better if you can in the future look back and say, damn, look at what i did, i achieved all that! that's of course not to say you can't find help from those around you. definitely ask for assistance and support when you need it. but to come out on the other side and say you made it, ideally you paved your own way for plenty of it because you deserve the final applause and praise so much. believe in yourself and don't let the little voice in the back of your head make you doubt yourself and your ideas.

this person seems like a bit of a flirt. not in a way that should raise any concerns, as they are a very loyal person. they actually make it known loud and clear if they're already spoken for, and enjoy flaunting their partner in many ways. this is a person who will bring up your achievements and strengths at a social gathering, not to flex having you at their arm, but to genuinely shine a spotlight on you. especially if it'll get you flustered. they have a very playful energy to them that's endearing and youthful regardless of their actual age. a little bit of a peter pan vibe where they'll retain their young spirit well into their retirement. they're very easy-going and likeable, and have a lot of friends, and may connect you to a ton of new people. expect your social life to explode as a result of this connection, but at the same time be sure to make time for the friends and supporters that you have right now.

this person is used to being the centre of attention, not just socially, but professionally too. they may have a very visible job or hobbies that connect them to an audience of some kind within their chosen field. their energy is very contagious and fun, though that doesn't mean they're entirely air-headed and incapable of taking things seriously. i'm strongly getting that either they or someone close to them has struggled with a physical or mental illness for a good part of their life, so they have developed almost like an antenna to pick up on things going on that aren't being said out loud. especially if you're someone who frequently avoids bringing up your problems as to not burden others, or have a difficult time reaching out for support and being honest about how things affect you, you can rest assured that this person will quickly try to learn how to read you, or even outright ask how they can best assist you when you're struggling or even request some sort of secret code that you can use to communicate your unease so that they can quickly come to your aid.

they have a little bit of a problem taking their own concerns seriously. they seem to cope through distractions mostly. a positive in this is that they don't let things that are out of their control bother them and they do the best they can with what they got at any given time. a true optimist, but a negative aspect is that they may avoid facing their demons and try to outrun their problems. this can manifest itself with workaholic tendencies and a packed schedule in general. there might be some sort of saviour complex involved, too, in which they feel compelled to help everyone else and neglect their own needs. towards you in particular i'm getting a lot of pda and quality time. you slow them down a bit and help them stop to smell the roses. they'll be surprised by how much they've longed for peace and simplicity, and they find that solace and ease with you and it really heals them on a deep level, which in turn amps up the energy and effort they show you. goodbye routine lovers, honestly. this one walks the talk and really keeps up the pace long after the honeymoon phase.

some additional details: i'm not getting a lot in terms of appearance, which may suggest that you already know them, or at least know of them, even if they don't know of you yet. it's possible that you share mutual friends or interests or work within the same field. there is a big emphasis on their voice, and things may start off as long-distance with hours upon hours on the phone. astrological things that appear significant: leo, pisces, the sun, mercury, 11th house, 2nd house.

02.

you've been flying solo for a while now. perhaps you grew tired of, or dare i say even gave up on love? it may have seemed like there just aren't as many fish in the sea as promised. at least none that you could take seriously. and serious is what you want. and serious is what you're getting.

first and foremost i must say your standards aren't too high. do not feel ashamed of what you want, and don't let anyone tell you that you need to set realistic expectations. they're exactly where they need to be and you're attracting the quality you seek. you've ventured further out to sea to find yourself a bigger catch. the journey hasn't been easy, but it has helped you grow tremendously. i'm strongly getting that your past experiences have really helped you fine tune your build-a-bae, so to speak, and there's no more reconfiguring to do. you know what you want and what you don't want, how much of this and how much of that. the next lessons for you to learn in love are ones you will not tackle on your own, but alongside a long-term partner who is at your level. long gone are the days of disappointments and putting up with feeling like you're outgrowing your partner, because this next person is mature and ready to grow with you.

this person is what fairytales would call your true love. in as many ways as you are one and the same, you differ, sometimes wildly so. if you're an introvert, they're an extrovert. if you seek comfort, they seek adventure. it's your goals and dreams and values that hold hands in agreement, and that builds up a strong foundation for your connection. if you have a lot of feminine energy, they have a lot of masculine energy. you two may even look like opposites in some ways, or come from different cultures. and do not fret, because your differences will be a blessing, not a curse. this isn't a re-run of a love where you felt like you weren't seen or heard and were made to bend. there is a distinct element of give and take here. a beautiful balance wherein they enjoy your world and your ways, and don't force you to change any of it, and you feel compelled out of genuine desire to take their hand and let them show and share their world with you. and you're able to coexist perfectly fine in a way that makes you both feel fulfilled and at ease.

things may stall a little at first, because this person will have a bit of whiplash when the two of you meet. they may feel as if you stepped right out of their dreams in a way. like a ghost from their childhood when they were around their parents or grandparents and thought of the person they'd grow old with some day. and suddenly you're there, a distant memory made flesh, a memory forgotten long ago making a big splash as it resurfaces. but once they gather themselves i see that they'll be very direct in their pursuit of you. and it's quite the old school courting, too. they make their intentions clear and have the follow-through to walk their talk. this is a very open and honest person, although they appear a bit emotionally disconnected at times. it's not due to a lack of emotional sensitivity, but processing things before acting or speaking is a part of their character. they're very serious in love, and don't seem to fit into the modern age of tinder and hookups.

they may have a strong connection to the sea, live by the ocean, look mediterranean, or enjoy activities related to water. their features in general leans darker. be it their eyes, hair, skin, or the way they dress. there is something specifically drawing me to their hands. perhaps they work with their hands, are a very crafty person, or have a physically demanding job. or simply have very attractive hands that you would take note of. physical touch is important to them, and they are very protective of their loved ones.

speaking of loved ones, they have strong familial ties and may come from a big family. i'm also strongly getting that they come from money, though without the nepotism often associated with it. their father in particular may have made it a point to raise them with a lot of discipline and drive to make something of themselves and not just rely on a trustfund. this person is ambitious and a hard worker, and prefers to be involved and hands-on with what they do. i'm also seeing siblings playing a big role in your connection. one in particular could connect with you in a meaningful way. this family is one that will welcome you with open arms and you will feel as though you have gained another family to call your own. if you have any childhood wounds related to family, this one takes found family quite literally.

some additional details: travelling and holidays figure strongly. things get taken to the next level rather quickly because there is a lack of doubt involved. they're very generous with their time and money. this has massive signs of marriage. astrological things that appear significant: aries, taurus, saturn, the moon, the 4th house, the 9th house.

03.

it seems like you're stuck on something, or someone. and that situation didn't treat you fairly. this feels less like betrayal and more like you spent some time hauling dead weight around. in vain, i might add. either you already have or will soon drop it and move on. it might be difficult, though, and i apologise if i'm overstepping here, but in part it's due to an inability to truly let go on your part. if you want to get even, or show someone what they lost, do it by moving on with grace and making decisions for yourself and your own growth and success. beware of people around you who would gladly take advantage of your vulnerability right now. even if it feels like a rebound would benefit you, it'll only hurt you if you find yourself looking over the shoulder of another person to see if the one who hurt you sees and is affected by it. what will truly help you heal is to dust yourself off and focus on feeling whole within yourself. and don't worry, you didn't stumble into yet another love reading that will tell you, well, tough luck, no love for you, work on yourself! whilst i certainly will call you to take care of yourself and pursue things that serve you and your growth, i will also go over what's coming next.

and that's something a little eerie. you may have someone in your past, who you consciously or subconsciously measure everyone else up to. perhaps this was the one that got away, or someone you met at the wrong time. in one way or another, there is a situation you wish had happened differently. in your pursuit of finding yourself again and some solid ground to stand on after enduring stormy seas, you may run into someone who is eerily similar to someone you once knew. but at the right time, now. for some of you this may very well be the exact person you already have history with, or could've had history with, though with major improvements from the previous season. but for many this is just an oddly familiar stranger who gives you a bit of deja vu. they share many similarities with someone you've been attracted to, just less red flags and complications.

this person seems rather cerebral. their job, studies, or hobbies may revolve around psychology, literature, or science. they're very good with their words, both written and spoken. they can also be quite blunt, but not with malicious intent. they aren't afraid of speaking their mind, and may be quite passionate about their opinions. they're a great teacher, and a good student, too. they enjoy delving deeply into things and soak up new information like a sponge. they'll greatly value your opinion and perspective, and the two of you may engage in debates or discussions about a variety of topics. intellectually speaking you're on the same wavelength and seem to understand each other intuitively.

it's very possible that this starts off platonic. whilst you may be ready to jump into a relationship with them from the start, they prefer to take things slowly and really get to know you first. you may worry that the spark between you will fade over time, but this one is a lesson of patience and building a strong connection as a foundation first. especially if in the past you've been quick to hurt or get hurt, you're about to learn how differently a lover will treat you when you're first and foremost a dear friend. this connection has the potential of some serious power couple themes in the long run. the two of you feel almost dangerous as duo, but i think that just goes to show that the initial spark won't fade and actually benefit from a bit of a slow burn before the fire starts raging at full force.

there is a lot of chemistry between the two of you. a very push-and-pull, engaging, and intoxicating energy. you'll keep each other on your toes in a way that keeps things feeling fresh and exciting. you're partners in crime and the world appears to be your playground. any past heartbreaks and feelings of lack, even lackluster, is gone and replaced with adventure and passion. you're very attracted to them, and they to you, in a way that could be classified as an addiction if it weren't for the fact that the side effects are predominantly positive. the two of you may collaborate on some kind of project, and your joint efforts are sure to be a success. though you do many things together, you also support each other in your separate endeavours. there may be a bit of mutual artist and muse dynamic here, wherein you inspire them and they inspire you. you both value your individuality, and hype each other up.

this person feels devilish in some way. a maverick of sorts. they're taller, perhaps lanky, and there is an unconventional attractiveness to them. they have a unique look that really pulls you in and makes them stand out anywhere they go. they might dress in a way that makes them different from the crowd. they really march to the beat of their own drum. i'm not getting much in terms of family, so they may be very independent and live a life separate from family, or they may have some wounds in regards to their home life that they keep their walls up over. they take their friendships very seriously, many of them are ones they'd take a bullet for. this is a very ride or die type of person. they're very resilient and if they've known terrible hardships in their past, you'll be in awe of their personal strength and ability to get back up when they're knocked down.

some additional details: music is very relevant to the point where you should expect to receive a personalised playlist as a way for them to communicate their feelings for you. they might be musically inclined and play an instrument. astrological things that appear significant: scorpio, aquarius, aries, pluto, uranus, 3rd house, 10th house, 12th house.

[ferigrieving]

when hell freezes over.

⊹ ࣪ in which touya todoroki finds himself.

a.n sorry this took so long i rewrote it like ten times because it wasnt going where i wanted to and it still lowkey isnt but i think this is the best ill do and im too excited to get to the later chapters so i might just rewrite them all to be better when im done ! i dont know im just really passionate abt this fic i literally got a writing notebook just for it...

tag list ; @itgetzweird08 !

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; two – 2006 ; four – 2010 ; 4.4k words

touya todoroki was eight when his hair began to turn white.

his father had given up on him. said there was no point in training him. not when his quirk began eating away at his body everytime he used it.

every night, you would find more, and more burns. some more severe than the others, the skin peeling and rotting in ways you didn't know was possible. and every night, you’d place your cold, cold hands on him, and heal him as best as you could.

sometimes, you wanted to stop. your quirk made you feel like you had been plunged in an ice cold bath, hands holding you down as you struggled to breath. you could feel the ice creeping into your veins, threatening to freeze you from the inside out. but you kept on pushing. for touya. for the boy who couldn't give up, even if he wanted to.

“enji went to the doctor’s today.” touya spoke, leaning against the trunk of the big oak tree. “said i cant use my quirk anymore. ‘parently i have my mom’s body or… whatever.”

you could hear the anguish in his voice. his dream, no. his father’s dream was now a lost cause. all the hours, all the blood, the sweat, the tears, down the drain in an instant. all because he lost the genetics lottery. 

“what… what now?”

touya pushed away from the tree to look directly at you as he waited for his answer. the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow on both of you. you two never met in the daytime. afraid your parents would find out, that endeavour would find out. you were both on edge, and today’s news didn’t help at all.

“i dont know, toy’.” 

"you don’t know?” touya responded in disbelief. he was angry at the situation, and angry at himself. “of course you don’t know. you don’t know anything. do you even care?”

touya’s voice was harsh, cold. he didn’t mean to hurt you, he really didn’t. 

but when you’re an eight year old child who just had your dreams snapped away from you days after your birthday, it was a normal reaction. or as normal as one can be in a situation like this, anyway.

he began pacing, hands tugging at his hair with so much force you were afraid he would rip it from his scalp. touya’s hair had begun turning white in some places, and you didn't know whether it was from his mother, or from stress. you don't know which one you would have preferred.

you didn't know what to do. your parents never trained you on how to use your quirk at all. sometimes, selfishly, you wished you had a father like endeavour. a figure in your life that would help you hone your quirk the way enji did to touya. you could take it, the harsh words, and the unforgiving regime, if only it meant you could relieve the pain touya seemed to feel in every waking moment.

“i’m—” he mumbled, stopping to look at you.

touya looked like a mess. his skin was littered with burns and scars you couldn't heal all the way, his eyes bloodshot from tiredness and stress, hair messy and greasy.  his voice was soft, and if you really listened, you could hear him trembling.

“i didn’t mean that. i’m sorry.”

touya slowly walked over to your spot and sat down wordlessly. his shoulders slumped, and he brought his knees to his chest.  he didn’t say anything for a long time. the sound of cicadas surrounded the two of you, and the last of the sunlight faded away. the sky was dark, and a few stars had already begun to appear. the moon was half way dark, peeking out from behind the clouds in the night sky.

as touya rested, you slowly inched closer to him until your shoulder touched his. he didn’t flinch away, and instead slowly rested his head on your shoulder. 

after a few moments, he spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“what am i going to do?”

touya was a just a kid, but sometimes you forgot that. you forgot that he was just a child, not some grown adult that could handle the pressure of the world on their shoulders like endeavour had made him out to be.

“have fun.”

touya’s head moved from your shoulder to look at you. 

”have fun?” he responded in disbelief. “i can’t really have fun when my quirk— when my whole life is falling apart, can i now?”

"your whole life doesn't have to revolve around your quirk, touya."

“how is it not supposed to revolve around my quirk?”

touya sat up straighter, putting distance between the two of you. he looked at you with an incredulous look, like you had just suggested he run away with his tail between his legs.

“all i’ve ever done is train, train, and train. train and work my butt off for a quirk i never even really wanted. and now it’s all going down the drain like i’m nothing more than trash.”

touya sat back against the tree again, leaning his head back and looking up at the stars, emerging from their cocoon once more.

”this is all i’ve ever had. without my quirk, i’m nothing.”

he was bitter and resentful. at his father, for lighting this fire under him. at his mother, for giving birth to him. at himself, for not being enough.

to touya, the idea of suddenly stopping everything he knew seemed impossible. being the number one hero was the only thing on his mind since the day he was born. it was engraved into his brain, and all he knew to do. 

so now that he was stripped of that, where did that leave him? what was he supposed to do? who was he, if not the less than perfect successor for his father?

“what am i gonna to do now, huh? play outside? play with others? run around like a freakin’ kid?”

“yeah, actually.. you should play with me.”

“play with you?” touya responded sceptically, raising an eyebrow at you. “what are we supposed to do? have a tea party?

the idea of playing, especially in his current state of mind, seemed like a foreign concept. you two played sometimes, yes, but touya sometimes felt like he was going through the motions, if anything. he never really found anything in playing house with you, or pretending he was a villain and you, a monster. at least thats what he told himself, anyway. he’d rather keel over and die than admit he enjoyed spending time with you.

“if you wanna.”

touya looked dumbfounded. like you had just sprouted a second head. he knew you could be a little slow sometimes, but this was too much.

“seriously? we’re like… eight. we’re too old for that. we’re basically teenagers. ‘n’ you want to spend your time playing tea party? ” he said, making a face. “when we could be doing something actually fun, like skipping rocks or something? don't you have anything else in that head of yours?”

“...we could go to the park?”

“the park?” touya repeated, staring at you, a sarcastic lilt to his voice. “why do you wanna go to the park? so we can sit and spin around on the roundabout till we fall off?” 

“i mean.. no one's gonna be there. its late, so we’ll have it all to ourselves, touya.”

“that’s…” he began before stopping.  it actually sounded kind of cool. the idea of sneaking into an empty park at night with you. the idea of getting caught… excited him.

he let out a grumble, looking away. “fine. let’s go to the park.” he relented.

touya slowly got up from the ground and dusted off his pants before sticking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“this better not be stupid,” he muttered as the two of you began making your way through the park.

it was late, meaning there was basically no one out except the occasional night-shift worker or the local drunkard. the only sounds to accompany you were the cars driving past, or the songs of the crickets. as the two of you walked, touya glanced over at you.

he noticed the way you walked confidently, almost with purpose. he would often catch himself stumbling as he walked, still not used to his gangly limbs. you, on the other hand, seemed to move so flawlessly. he was premature, and as a result, was shorter than fuyumi, and probably natsuo when he becomes of age. he was taller than you, sure, but that wasn't a feat by any means considering your height.

he kept his gaze on you for a few more seconds before looking away.

“hey,” he spoke suddenly, breaking the silence. “how come ya’ never play with other kids?”

it was a question that was bothering him for a while now. you never seemed to want to go hang around other kids, opting to stick by his side. touya could never really figure out why. maybe he didn't want to. he couldn't tell.

“why would i, touya,” you grinned, stretching out his name and slinging an arm around his shoulder, relishing in the way he recoiled. “when i have you?

a scoff.

“don’t say that,” he said in a deadpanned voice, but there was a light flush beginning to spread across his face.

he wasn't used to receiving praise from anyone, but when it came from you… it made him uncharacteristically embarrassed. touya didn't particularly know his emotions very well, especially not one that made him so flustered he wanted to throw up. not one that only ever seemed to show its face whenever he was around you.

“seriously, though. i’ve never seen you talk to anyone else like you do with me. how come?”

touya continued walking, casting an expectant glance in your direction. you didn't know what to say.

he had no idea why he wanted to know so badly. why the idea of you talking to other kids bothered him so much.  and he knew it was stupid. you were allowed to make other friends. hell, he was the one not letting you make friends with other people. but the thought of you talking to anyone else other than him sent a sharp pang to his chest.

he shook the thought away, forcing the feeling of possessiveness down.

after a few moments of silence, he spoke again, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“...what makes me so special, anyway?”

“shut up, touya.”

touya let out a surprised huff of air at your response.

he stopped walking and spun around to face you so suddenly, that you nearly ran into him. there was a scowl on his face, and his eyes were narrowed.

“don’t tell me what to do,” he replied in a low tone, trying to sound intimidating the way his father seemed to be so effortlessly.

he wasn’t quite sure why. maybe it was the thought of you giving your attention to someone other him, or maybe he just wanted some sort of response from you. 

he leaned closer, using his barely-there advantage of height to loom over you. he watched your face, trying to figure out what was going through that dumb head of yours.

touya’s face inches closer to yours, close enough that you could feel his warm breath fan across your face. his eyes were locked onto yours, watching intently as you began to shift uncomfortably.

your hands began to feel a lot colder than usual as your fingertips began to turn white. the warmth in your veins was quickly replaced with a chill that you were all too familiar with.

your heart was beating quick and fast. you hadn’t realised how hard it had been beating until you felt your heart thump against your chest. you were sure touya could hear it, with how close he was. 

you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he leaned in even closer, his eyes still locked in onto yours. there was a determined look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure you out.

“whatever. i wanna go on the seesaw.”

touya’s expression soured at your nonchalant reaction. instead of the nervous stammering and stuttering he was hoping for, you had calmly responded, not giving him the slightest show that he had any sort of effect over you.

he watched as you looked away, avoiding his gaze. there was a faint redness to your cheeks, and a part of him felt satisfied at the sight of it. but there was also an undercurrent of annoyance at the idea of being dismissed like that.

he let out a scoff and backed away, putting some distance between the two of you.

“the seesaw?” touya repeated, raising an eyebrow. “what are ya, five years old?”

he wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting you to propose, but it certainly wasn’t that. the thought of standing on a children’s toy, awkwardly swinging up and down and up again, was laughable.

you, on the other hand, seemed completely serious as you nodded. “yeah!”

he stared at you for a moment, contemplating whether or not you were messing with him. but your expression was as deadpan as always, giving no hint that you were anything but sincere.

he let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes as a look of resignation crossed his face. “fine. let’s go on the damn seesaw.”

you grinned, bounding over to it with way too much energy someone should have in the dead of night. touya rolled his eyes again at your excitement. he was not particularly enthusiastic about going on a child’s toy, but he begrudgingly followed you to the playground. you practically dragged him over to the brightly painted seesaw, eagerly taking a seat on one side.

he reluctantly took a seat on the opposite one, the metal frame of the seesaw creaking under his weight. he glanced over at you, a frown on his face. "this is stupid."

you, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. you bounced up and down on the other end of the seesaw, giggling as the metal frame made squeaking sounds. touya sat on the other side, arms crossed, but you could tell by the way his shoulders were squared that he was trying not to fall off without giving in and actually play.

"come on," you said, gesturing for touya to bounce as well. "it's more fun when both of us are doing it."

"having fun yet?" you called out, still bouncing up and down like a hyperactive child. the metal frame between the two of you was starting to groan in protest.

touya let out a huff. "this is dumb," he repeated. "i'd rather be doing literally anything else right now."

he continued to bounce, but his movements were more restrained than yours. the whole thing seemed so childish, especially with you gleefully giggling away on the other end.

“fine! lets go on the swings then.” you frowned, peeling yourself off the seesaw sadly and trudging over to the swingset.

touya let out a scoff, his hold on you reluctantly loosening “of course its the swings,” he said with a roll of his eyes, shifting his hands to rest on your hips. “you always wanna go on those stupid things.”

“yeah i do. they're the coolest!”

you quickly regained your composure, however, and looked back at touya with a raised eyebrow. "slides are lame. swings are where it's at. you can go up and down!"

he let out a scoff again, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "slides are better. they're faster. there's more adrenaline. now c’mon,” he murmured, walking side by side with you, absentmindedly matching the way you walked. left, right. left, right.

touya watched you closely as you sat down, his hands resting gingerly on your shoulders until you were safely seated on the swing. he stood there for a moment, his heart skipping a beat as your hair blew softly in the wind, framing your face with a few strands of hair.

he quickly brushed the feeling aside, shaking his head as he walked around to stand behind you.

“im gonna push you now, alright?”

“‘mkay!”

touya positioned himself behind you, his hands wrapped around the chains of the swing. his heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest. he took a deep breath, praying silently that you didn’t notice how nervous he actually was.

“okay, on the count of three…”

he began to count down, softly at first but gaining momentum as he reached the end. on three, he pushed you gently, propelling the swing forwards.

as you began to swing, touya let out a long exhale, his breath leaving him in a shaky whisper. he stood behind you, watching as you soared through the air, a smile on your face bigger than the moon. 

he couldn’t help but notice how… carefree you looked. how your hair would sometimes brush against his knuckles as he pulled you backwards. how you would throw your head back in laughter every time you reached the peak of the swing. touya pushed you again, watching as you ascended even higher this time.

the sight of you swinging back and forth, your hair blowing in the gentle breeze, made his heart flutter. touya couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, his eyes fixated on your figure as you gained momentum.

he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. he didn’t know why he felt so flustered, he had been pushing you on the swings for years.

this time felt different though. maybe it was the way the moonlight shone on your skin, or the way your shoulders shook with quiet giggles.

“push me touya! higher!”

touya let out a scoff of mock annoyance, though he knew he couldn’t deny you. 

“you’re such a pain in the ass,” he muttered under his breath, pushing the swing with more force. 

watching you go higher and higher, your laughter filling the air, touya couldn’t help but smile to himself. he wanted to know what it was like to be up there, to see the moon, and the stars. to feel free, even for just a moment. 

and touya never understood why in movies the main characters always seemed to be ‘stuck in place’. stood there, looking like an idiot as something that could have easily been prevented from happening in front of them. he was old enough to understand that it was for the plot, but he couldn't help but feel frustrated when a character wanders back into the house with a killer in it for the nth time.

but now, he was frozen, his whole body seizing as the you swung up, and up, fingers slipping from the chains and your body falling, encapsulated by nothing but the light of the moon.

time seemed to slow down at that moment. he could hear the thumping of his own heart in his ears, like a primal drum, beating in time with the seconds ticking by.

he tried to call out to you, to warn you about the impending fall, but no sound came out of his agape mouth. he could only watch, feet glued to the ground, as you came back down towards the ground at an increasingly high speed.

touya’s heart skipped a beat, his blood turning to ice as he saw you slip from the swing. he wasn’t sure what overtook him in that moment, but he felt his body moving on its own. 

within seconds, he found himself darting forward, arms outstretched as he tried to catch you midair. panic surged through him like electricity, his thoughts racing a mile a minute.

touya had no time to think, no time to weigh the risks or the consequences of what he was about to do. he acted, pure instinct taking over his body.

he moved with an almost superhuman speed, his long legs covering the distance between you and him in the blink of an eye. touya felt his adrenaline spike as he stretched his arms out towards you, his eyes locked onto your falling form.

he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this was a terrible idea. that he was putting himself in danger too. but in that moment, all he cared about was saving you.

time seemed to stretch on into infinity as he caught you, his arms encircling around your waist. he held you tight against his chest, the force of the impact causing him to stumble backwards. 

he fell onto the ground, landing on his back with a thud. the air left his lungs in a sharp exhale, his body tense as he tried to process what had just happened.

for a moment, touya laid there, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. his arms were still wrapped around you, holding you impossibly close against him.

“....touya?” your voice was small, eyes blown wide and terrified of every little thing that went bump in the night. you were always so strong, never wavering or faltering whenever you were around him. but here, right now, there was nothing you needed more than him.

"i got you," he breathed out, his voice shaky and ragged.

he held you closer, his hold on you tightening almost possessively. touya didn't know why his heart was pounding so hard, why his whole body felt like it was on fire.

he inhaled deeply, savoring the faint scent of your hair. it was a subtle, sweet fragrance that reminded him of wildflowers and sunshine.

"you're okay. i've got you," he repeated, more for his own reassurance than yours.

he sat up slowly, the movement causing him to wince slightly. his back was definitely going to hurt later, but he didn't care about that right now. all he cared about was making sure you were alright.

touya's eyes trailed over your form, searching for any signs of injury. he lifted a hand to gently cup your chin, tilting your face upwards so he could look at you properly.

he didnt know a single thing about taking care of others. didnt know how to put on a bandage, didnt know what medicine was what. didnt know how to comfort anyone, if at all. all he knew was what he saw his mother do, time, and time again.

his gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, taking in the sight of your tear-stained face. the sight tugged at his heartstrings, but he tried his best to keep his emotions in check.

he held your chin a little tighter, his thumb gently rubbing over your skin in a comforting motions.

"you're crying.”

“shut up. no– no ‘m not.”

touya couldn't help but roll his eyes at your reaction. even in moments like these, you were as stubborn as ever.

he let out a huff of amusement, shaking his head slightly as he used his thumb to wipe away the tears from your eyes.

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say," he said in a sarcastic tone. "because your tears are definitely just sweat, right?"

you nodded, shutting your eyes tight as you willed the world to stop spinning. you didn't know how people stomached going skydiving or riding rollercoasters, and you didn't think you ever would.

touya chuckled, his hand moving from your chin to pat your head fondly.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" he teased, his voice softening at the sight of your tear-stained face.

he hated seeing you cry. more than he knew he should.

the butterflies in his stomach stirred as he continued to hold you close, his hand still tangled in your hair. he tried to shake the feeling off, reminding himself that he was just being a good friend. that's all.

but as he sat there, with you in his arms and your tears staining his shirt, he couldn't ignore the fluttering in his chest.

he sat there for a moment, his fingers gently threading through your hair as he tried to catch his breath. he knew he should make sure you were actually okay, that your little stunt didn't actually get you hurt.

but right now, all he could focus on was you. the way your eyelashes fluttered against your skin as you blinked back tears, the way your lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

it was driving him crazy.

“can… can we go home?”

touya's heart ached at the sound of your soft, shaky voice. the way you looked so small and fragile in his arms right now made his chest tighten with an unfamiliar feeling. it was nauseating. you were always so strong around him, but seeing you like this was like flipping a switch in his brain.

he gently patted your head once more, his fingers lingering on your hair for a moment, before nodding.

"yeah," he responded, his voice quiet and hoarse. "yeah, we can go home."

he’d have to sneak you through the window again. as much as he wanted your parents to check you out now, it’d be too much of a risk.

touya's mind raced with thoughts as he helped you up onto your feet, his grip never loosening from your waist. 

he knew the drill by now. he would have to sneak you back into your room through your bedroom window, without getting caught by your parents. he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. he could do this. he'd done it several times before.

touya always walked you home after the first night. it was the least he could do, anyways. his father was cruel, but not cruel enough to not raise a gentleman.

and touya didn't mind walking you back home. in fact, there was a secret part of him that actually relished in the time alone with you. the comfortable silence, the gentle brush of your hand against his, the way the dim street lights illuminated your face.

he could pretend, even if just for a moment, that it was just the two of you in the world. no parents, no rules, no responsibilities.

it was a foolish dream, but he clung to it like a lifeline, nonetheless.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Asgard's Greatest Lover [Brodinsons]

Part of the Brother Collection A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: An offhand comment leads to a salty trip down memory lane. (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: Squabbling. D*ck measuring contests to fluff. Implied smut references.

“Loki, she’s looking over-” Despite best efforts to ignore it, the meaty elbow jostling the god’s ribs made him wince. “Loki, look, in the stand yonder. She’s looking, Loki- look” Thor boomed excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Will you desist?” Loki spat, hissing under his breath.

He could feel blood warming his cheeks, the volume of Thor's attempt at subtlety making him wish a portal would swallow him whole. He shouldn't have come. He didn't even like tennis. And yet, as always, here he was. With his public embarrassment of a brother. Loki grimaced as Thor began to point.

“But look hence...she noticed you! Perhaps she wishes to bid us good day.” He began to raise his arm, the start of a floppy wave which would likely be seen from space. “Wave, Loki- look, brother, see-!” Loki’s hand shot out, forcing the over-excited gesture down. “She’s wondering if you have utterly lost control of your faculties, brother;” Loki snarled, trying his best to look menacing. “As am I.”

Thor chortled, straightening a muscle vest which was three sizes too small. “Oh, Loki. You never have been very good at this sort of thing,” he sighed, letting his enthused gaze roam up and down the pristine grass court as Stark Industries friends and family took their seats. “It truly is a boon that you have one such as I to guide you in this romantic endeavour.” Loki raised his brows. He knew he shouldn’t take the bait. Especially in public. Especially today. But it was just too tempting.

“Whatever could you mean, brother?” he crooned, giving his most stoic side-eye with a tilt of his chin. He felt Thor bristle, telltale nervous fingering of blonde strands behind his ear letting Loki know the warning pitch of his voice had hit as intended.

“Well, Loki, it’s no secret that your love life has been fraught with unfortunate malaise where seduction is concerned,” “Unfortunate?” Loki said coldly, “I wouldn’t call a reputation as Asgard’s greatest lover unfortunate.”

Thor spluttered, shaking his head with sanctimonious laughter. “Ah, my little brother. I do admire the unshakeable esteem with which you hold your delusions.”

The dark brother’s grip tightened on the bleacher bench. “And I suppose you believe that title belongs to you, does it?” he sneered through gritted teeth. Poison flecked the words, dripping from his tongue like venom from a fang. Thor’s eyes narrowed. “I have the relic which proves it,” he shrugged.

“The one our mother gave you in solace when Jane left?” Loki snarled, “Pathetic. I doubt she even knew what it truly meant, just echoed your boorish claims thinking it was based in chivalry,” he paused. “At least, I hope that was her intent.” They stared at each other in pregnant silence.

“It matters not that mother gifted me said ceramic receptacle,” Thor said through gritted teeth. “What matters is, that my legend reaches far beyond the bifrost to bedchambers across nine realms, brother.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Whereas yours is rather more contained to the palace servant quarters.” “That was one instance,” Loki spat, “and she was the most comely chambermaid we’d ever had.” “I’m sure,” Thor huffed, rolling his eyes. He brought one fist in front of Loki’s face, flexing an ostentatious bulge of bicep. “I was too busy giving the princess of Nilfheim a shudder of my very special thunder to notice.” He smirked, delivering a slow wink to punctuate his prowess. “She was never the same afterwards, you know.” Loki stared open mouthed, before he burst into raucous laughter.

From across the court, Steve immediately stood with a snap; hands on his hips with the most uptight death glare Loki had ever seen. “This is tennis,” Steve squawked. “For gosh’s sakes, have some respect.”

Through tears of mirth, Loki saw you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. She recognises that Rogers is ridiculous, he thought. Good. That’s good.

Regaining his composure, Loki straightened. He smoothed his hair behind his ears, picking up the gauntlet his brother had carelessly cast down.

“Never the same. Quite.” he mused thoughtfully, collecting himself. “I can believe that your relentless dry-thrusting, lack of imagination and moans which sound suspiciously like the name of your talisman would scar her for life, yes.” “Leave Mjölnir out of this,” Thor snapped. Loki smirked, eyes wandering casually to where you sat. “The rumours are true then. Interesting.” he murmured slyly. Thor crossed and re-crossed his legs, the bleacher creaking beneath his weight. “She was perfectly satisfied,” the blonde grumbled, shifting his feet. Loki snorted. “Brother, you could not satisfy a woman if the key to unlocking her pleasure was written in parchment and propped upon her belly.” Thor stared, blankly. “Ah, yes – I forgot. A woman’s pleasure is not your forte is it,” Loki sneered, casting a quick glance towards his brother’s reddening face. “From what I heard, your attempts have been tragic at worst and laughable at best-” “Loki,” Thor warned, glancing anxiously at the people filling the seats behind them. But Loki continued, un-phased.

“Did you truly think you were to rub it with your chin?” He let out a harsh ooo, before sucking the air between his teeth.

“Those unfortunate women,” he drawled with feigned solemnity. “They didn’t want to hurt your feelings. ‘Asgard’s greatest lover’...please.” Thor tried to speak then thought better of it. Loki felt the glee begin to rise in his chest as he tasted victory in the air. “I felt moved for her when she hobbled from your chambers, poor thing. What did she cite for her impromptu departure, I wonder? Headache, was it?” He looked at his brother. The glazed look of bamboozled betrayal in his eyes told Loki that he was in fact, correct.

“Thankfully, I had just run a rather luxurious bath for myself which the lady found most soothing to aid her discomfort,” Loki purred, throwing his scarlet-faced sibling a knowing glance. “She was very grateful for my healing hands. And other anatomical attentions.”

Thor stared with slack-jawed disbelief.

The dark-haired god flicked his keen gaze towards you again. He let his eyes track up the skin of your bare calf, glinting in the afternoon sun. Supple, he pondered; thanking the Norns for the light breeze which rustled your skirt. On cue, you sipped from a large water bottle. Loki smirked.

“I was not aware that I was now a figure of such...ridicule. How times have changed.” Loki frowned as his moment of voyeurism was disturbed by Thor’s quiet mewl. With a sigh of resignation he swivelled, their knees touching. He reached for his brother’s hand, lowering his chin with sincerity in his eyes.

“Brother, that is not so” Loki said softly, “you have always been a figure of ridicule.”

Thor let out a shaky laugh, nodding. “I can always count on you to cheer me, brother” he said, patting Loki’s hand. Loki nodded once in acknowledgement. “Perhaps the next time you think yourself above me in the art of seduction, you will remember this conversation.”

“One can hope,” Thor chirped.

Loki rolled his eyes, retracting his hand. Polite clapping erupted as the first of the day’s players walked onto the court, waving at the crowds. He could feel Rogers suspicious stare burning into him from the other side of the grass, but he paid it no mind. “You truly think the odds are in my favour, brother?” Loki murmured thoughtfully, nodding subtly in your direction.

The two of them craned to catch a glimpse, the figure of his affections now half-obscured by a sea of lesser bodies. Your demure facial expression gave nothing away, but a pat on the shoulder from Natasha soon made you break into a dazzling smile. How she is not a goddess, I shall never know, Loki pondered; feeling his heart melt into his stomach and transform to a sea of butterflies. The redhead nudged her chin upwards, urging you to look up where the two gods stood. Staring. “Gods,” Loki hissed regretfully, continuing to clap like a fool. There was nothing else to be done. The boorishness of his brother had once again drawn the wrong kind of attention. But try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Perhaps she has some magic of her own, he mused.

Thor’s elbow jostled against his ribs, “I told you, Loki” he chortled, “god of chaos or not, I would say that the odds are most definitely in your favour where your lady is concerned.” “Truly?” Loki breathed, his heart beating faster as you gave him a small, bashful wave. “Truly,” Thor said, giving his brother’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Tags (if you'd rather stick with smutty stuff please let me know!) @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @goddessofwonderland @muddyorbsblr @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you have any games that involve urban fantasy with less focus on fighting than something like Dresden or Shadowrun?

THEME: Urban Fantasy (Minimal Fighting)

Hello there! What I've got here is quite a mix, I wasn't sure how much violence you wanted (or didn't want) so I have a little bit of romance, a little bit of nostalgia, and a little bit of horror!

City of Mist, by Son of Oak Games.

City of Mist is a role-playing game of film-noir investigation and super-powered action. It is set in a modern metropolis rife with crime, conspiracies, and mysteries. The protagonists are Rifts, ordinary people who became the living embodiment of a legend, their Mythos. While your Rifts may seek to strike a balance between the mysterious nature of their Mythos and their mortal aspirations, the powers within them always threaten to tear their lives apart. They have unwittingly become a part of a secret world of clashing stories, and soon other legends will come looking for them with demands.

City of Mist is a combination of PbtA and FATE, giving your characters descriptive tags to use for both their benefit and their detriment as they go about solving mysteries in a supernaturally-saturated city. The primary theme of the game is mystery, and thus more than anything your characters will be primed for investigation. That’s not to say that there isn’t violence - but violence and fighting can be de-emphasized if the group is more interested in the mystery side of things.

Character Creation involves a combination of mundane and supernatural themes, as your character is endeavouring to strike a balance with the parts of themselves that they recognize (student, parent, office worker, ex-partner) and the parts of themselves that are hard to understand (mythical beast, deity, folktale, urban legend). What’s important to define is your daily routine, your personality, and what kind of supernatural powers you have.

This game isn’t explicitly anti-violent, but it absolutely provides you with ways to solve problems that aren’t violent, so I think City of Mist is worth checking out.

Scary Monsters & Nice Sprites, by Pammu.

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites is a narrative RPG about spending your night in one of the only clubs in your city that’s safe for creatures of the night like yourself. All you want to do is have some fun just like the humans do. Play a supernatural creature of choice, put some sick EDM on the speakers and get your game on!

This game works best for an even number of players, up to 6, and is GM-less. It combines urban monsters with flirting, dark clubs and hookups. Each of your characters will look for a partner by doing things that will appeal to the other players. If they like what you do, they’ll reward you with tokens, which you can spend to improve the atmosphere of the club. Fill another player’s intimacy meter, you’ve won them over, and the two of you decide how the night ends for both of your characters.

If you want a game about flirting and the magic of a nightclub, this is your game.

The Far Roofs, by Jenna Katerin Moran.

The Far Roofs is an original role playing system and bundled campaign using pens or pencils, paper, six-sided dice, ten-sided dice, playing cards, and a bag of letter tiles. It's complete in one volume: with this one book and the equipment above, you'll have everything you need to play. 

As the story progresses, your characters will gain access to over 150 unique, narrative-focused powers developed and refined over the course of a decade for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG before being simplified and adapted for use herein.

The Far Roofs is still being Kickstarted, but Moran’s work on Chuubo’s Wish-Granting Engine produced a game that emphasizes wonder and emotional experience. The Far Roofs looks to deliver along the same lines, and the examples of play point towards investigation, social interaction, and magic powers. Jenna Moran is also known for her unique and evocative storytelling in her work, so I think it’s definitely worth checking out.

Lighthearted, by Kurt & Kate Potts.

Welcome to the magical 80s dream world of Lighthearted. You are a Prep, Jock, Geek, Rebel, or Outcast, like those kids in The Breakfast Club, except you are just about to start magic community college. Through play, we'll explore how you grow out of your high school cliques all while dealing with magical mishaps, college parties, vampires, and worse—finals!

Lighthearted is a complete tabletop roleplaying game that uses the language of film and television to reimagine the coming of age stories popular in 80s teen movies like Weird Science and Sixteen Candles, but with a modern fantasy spin. It's set in an alternate 1980s with fantasy elements weaved into the most outlandish bits of 80’s pop culture. There are fantasy religions mixed in with mall culture, dark magic cold wars, and magical glamours instead of plastic surgery.

This is a game of magic and coming-of-age, as you play first-year students at a magical community college. You’re off to the big city, and the big world - will you survive your first college party? Your first vampire?

The whole game feels like the neon lights of a vibrant night-life combined with the nostalgia of an 80’s film. Your magic is attached to how you feel, so as your emotions change, so will your effectiveness at certain actions. If you want a game that’s as light as its name, and you are seeking out rosy-tinted nostalgia, this might be your game.

Changeling: the Lost, by Onyx Path.

Once upon a time, they took you from your home. They promised you a place at their side, and meaning in your life, and they surrounded you with beautiful things. But the beautiful things were oh so sharp, and they laughed when you bled.

Day by day, they changed you. But day by day, your will grew stronger. On the last day, you smashed your way through the beautiful things and ran, not noticing as you bled or feeling as you cried.

You fought with courage and cleverness and took yourself home. Now the beauty and the horror are yours, to have and to hold and to live.

Welcome to once upon right fucking now.

So I’m familiar only with the 1st edition of Changeling, but as far as I understand, the setting and core premise of the game is the same in the 2nd edition. Changeling: the Lost is a game of fairy trauma. Your characters are survivors of a fae horrorscape, a place both wondrous and terrifying all at once. This game is solidly in the horror genre, but it contains within it a taste of the magical, and it’s also the reason I got into roleplaying in the first place.

As in many Chronicles of Darkness games, fighting is an option in here, but it’s not a wise option. Getting into fights pulls at your characters’ ability to understand the difference between our world and the world of Fae, it’s very easy to sustain supernatural damage that is hard to heal, and, well, sometimes it’s hard to tell who your real enemies are in the first place.

I’d say that Changeling is more of a political game than anything else. Your characters will have to dance through the highly literal wording of faerie pledges, and untangle difficult relationships between Courts that are both safe havens and potential beds of sedition. This is a violent game, but much of the violence possible in Changeling isn’t physical - it's emotional.

This Night On The Rooftops, by C.M. Ruebsaat.

This is a game about gazing out over the smokestacks after dark, with the wind in your hair and a friend at your side and a thousand lights of progress on the streets below. 

This Night on the Rooftops is a collaborative storytelling game for 2-5 players about friendship, growing up, and revolution. You will play members of a gang of children in The City, a fantastic world of industry and dying magic, where witches labour alongside factory-workers to make ends meet.

This game looks slightly less modern, but it takes the fantasy aspect of witchcraft and places it inside an industrial city. The game uses a modified version of the No Dice No Masters rule set, which is excellent for stories that have an ebb and flow to them, managed through the use of token expenditure. This game is also GM-less, giving everyone at the table the same amount of control over what happens next.

Since the characters are a gang of teenage witches looking to make ends meet, this game doesn’t strike me as one that prioritizes fighting or violence. The city looks big enough to grind up the characters if they’re not careful, so they’ll likely have to find solutions to problems that don’t get them (or their dependants) in trouble. If the game is like other No Dice No Masters games that I’m familiar with, the group will also have a big say over which elements of the city are the most intriguing to them.

Partners: The Urban Fantasy File, by Tin Star Games.

Some murders are just elf defence…

Vampires are real, magic is real, elves are real - and murder is still very very real. This expansion takes you and your Partner down the moonlit streets of urban fantasy, where the dead sometimes get back up again but crime is still a mystery needing two heads to solve.

The base game for this, Partners, is a two-player mystery-solving game about a pair of detectives, a straight-shooter and a wildcard. You’ll need the base rules to play, but this supplement brings in dead elves, suspicious vampires, and other common characters in any urban fantasy genre. It can work as a one-shot, or as a series of episodes. If you want a game that's primarily about solving a mystery more than anything else, this is is for you.

Solacebound, by Sascha Moore.

Young monsters played at the boundary between the worlds. They slipped and stranded in a human city. Isolated and unwelcome, they search for each others help and a way back.

Solacebound is a GM-less Game for 3-5 people to play over a few hours. Search a sprawling, oppressive city for your friends, find out who is willing to give you a roof, bash back against authorities, cook together and console each other. Will you find a way back home before all passages close?

You are teenage monsters trying to find their way through an urban environment, in a place that is hostile to them. You survive by hiding out, finding each-other, and do things together to make sure you keep each-other healthy. Cards from a deck act as resources, but also as an oracle to help you describe the fallout of any given action, and the emotions that are attached to it. This is a game about metaphors, about what it is like to live in a place that fears you, so I definitely recommend making sure the entire table knows what this is about before starting a game.

You Might Also Want to Check Out

Subway Runners, by Gem Room Games.

[pacifymebby]

Johnny Comforts You After A Bad Dream

Self indulgent hurt/comfort. Complete fluff. Warnings: vague allusions to abuse/violence, reader has a scar. Also Johnny calls himself daddy.

Also this is the fic I drafted perfectly and then lost. This is not as good as that fic (rip) but it is longer, and actually here so... Also I might write more for this, I'm taken with her tragic backstory now.

"Johnny... Johnny!" In the dead of night you were all trembles and tears. Fragile and forlorn, growing more so with every second that went by without your Johnny waking up. "Johnny please wake up..." You whimpered, your heart stuck in your throat as you did your best to hold back the sobs choking you.

It had been another bad dream, you knew that but it didn't help ease the fear, the panic in your heart, the ringing sound in your ears. Nothing was going to stop the ache except your Johnny. But he was a heavy sleeper and by the time you had managed to stir him there were tears streaking your cheeks and you could hardly hold back the sobs.

"Hey honey..." he yawned, his voice gravelly with sleep as he pushed himself up to rest against the headboard.

He didn't need to ask what was wrong, you didn't need to tell him either. The moment he saw your wide eyes brimming with tears, the moment he saw the wrinkle of your nose as another tear rolled down your cheek and over your lips, he knew exactly what was wrong. Exactly what you needed.

He offered you a sympathetic pout, one which wrinkled his forehead and put a little smile on your lips as he opened his arms for you wordlessly and beckoned you to him with a nod.

"C'mere my honey," he cooed, "come to daddy..." his voice was still gruff and gritty but the way he spoke to you was so tender and sweet as he took your hand and lightly tugged you into his embrace. His arm came to wrap around you, his hand stroking through your hair and then down your back as he bundled you up in his lap. "S'okay my sweetheart, daddy's got you..." He hushed you as you nuzzled into him, his scruff tickling your cheek as you endeavoured to nestle in as close to him as you possibly could.

With one hand cradling your head to him, the other holding your waist, he rocked you gently, soothing you. He let a tender kiss linger in your hair as he continued to utter comforting sentiments to you.

"S'alright my honey you're safe, Johnny's here, nothins gonna happen to you baby, don't worry, Johnny won't let anything happen to you." He said, every word sincere. Every word a truth intended to comfort you, not just now but in the morning too and the next time you'd dream the same dream which had left you in tears tonight.

He didn't know much about your life pre, well, meeting him. What he did know however is that it was much darker than the life you led now, with him. You didn't talk about it, ever. Not even when you'd awoken in the middle of the night the way you had tonight. He'd tried to ask you before, what happened in the dream, why you were always so scared - not just scared but fuckin heartbroke - every time you awoke, but you'd always pouted and made one flippant comment to shake his questions off.

"What's wrong, you want me to start crying all over again?"

He knew why you did that too. Knew it was because whatever you didn't want to talk about was real bad, something that would curdle his blood, set of a rage in him he wouldn't want to control. He knew you were trying to keep your heartbroken history quiet because you didn't want him to think any less of you, didn't want him to think you were too melancholy, too much of a vibe kill. You were worried he'd leave of he found out all the trouble you'd seen and felt.

He only wished you would tell him so that he could prove you wrong. So that he could stay. Because he would. He'd stay with you through anything. He'd burn alive to stay by your side if he had to.

"S'okay my honey," he said, taking solace in the sensation of your nose nuzzling into his neck. It was comforting to hold you so close, to feel your breath on his skin.

You took comfort in that too.

In feeling your body rest so close against his, his heart beating against you so that you could feel yours slowing to meet his.

"S'jus me an you here angel, nothins gonna hurt you, you remember what I told you?" He asked waiting to feel you nod against him.

Instead you let out a timid "uhuh," that tugged on his heartstrings.

"So go on... You tell me what Johnny told you?" He said nudging your gaze up to his with his nose against your cheek.

You sat up a little then, a small smile tugging on your lips. Shy. You let him shift you in his lap so that you were straddling his waist, your knees sinking into the mattress. Him looking up at you, his hands on your waist to hold you steady.

"Always be safe with you," you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the still of the night. "Cause you'd kill anyone who ever wanted to hurt me..." You said, one hand holding his, the other holding your cheek, your thumb dangerously close to your mouth.

"That's right," he smiled, "and don't you ever forget it... You're my little angel and there ain't nothin I wouldn't do for my little angel..." He said, his hand catching yours, guiding your thumb away from your mouth so that he could hold your face in his two hands instead.

He stroked his thumbs over your cheeks slowly, brushing away the tears you'd long stopped crying. His eyes so full of the most determined kind of love as he let his fingers stray, knuckles brushing gently down your jaw, down your neck where he let them linger for a moment following the line of a telltale scar. One Cal had called gnarly the first time he'd seen it, his thoughtless comment meaning that for weeks after you'd tried your best to cover it with turtle necks and bandanas.

Johnny didn't know how you'd come to wear such a scar but he knew it bothered you. Knew it saddened you whenever you were reminded of it. Knew he hated to see you so sad when your fingers hovered over it and traced the line. Just as they were doing now.

So he sat up a little straighter and grazed your fingertips with his lips before chasing them away from your scar with his kisses. Until you giggled and your fingers curled into his shirt instead. When he kissed your scar he felt you tense a little, felt you relax in the next moment when he closed his eyes let his lips linger against your skin.

As he pulled away he held your gaze. His eyes pooling with tenderness, so quietly trying to communicate his adoration for you.

"Now," he said a little more firm that before, "now you c'mere angel, c'mere and let me hold you," he said guiding you down to lie against him, your body on top of his, your head to his chest which felt so comforting and sturdy beneath you. He stroked his hand through your hair as your eyes fluttered shut and tried not to lie awake wondering what had happened to you. Where his little angel had been before she'd stumbled into his bar one night and found him.