#tried to write fluffy crack

[samanthahirr]

Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 3,558 Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond), M | Gareth Mallory Additional Tags: Temporary Amnesia, Crack Treated Seriously, Vacation, Seduction, Anal Sex 

Summary: A random mugging and concussion have left Q with no memory of his time at MI6. Unable to hold their erstwhile quartermaster against his will, the agency lets him go on leave…and dispatches 007 to surveil and protect civilian-Q from a discreet distance. But Bond decides to get a whole lot closer than his orders permit….

It’s my third and final prompt fill for @mi6-cafe’s 2024 Festive Fanwork Fiesta! I really challenged myself with an ambitious concept for this week’s fic, and writing it turned out way more fun than I expected! Enjoy a last bit of 00Q from me for 2024. And here’s to many more stories in the New Year!

[meenaxskz]

when you slightly cut your finger (maknae line)

ot8 reactions | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack warnings: minor injury | slight blood | language hyung line | ✧ maknae line

han

You: “Ow! shit.” “WHO HURT YOU. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL FIGHT A FRUIT.” You blink. Jisung skids into the kitchen wearing pajama pants and one sock “Did you just stab yourself?! With a knife?! Were you slicing things?! WHY WERE YOU SLICING THINGS UNSUPERVISED??” You hold up your finger. A small cut. Like, embarrassingly small. He stares. Goes dead silent. Then clutches his chest. “I’m gonna throw up. I wasn’t emotionally ready for gore this early.” You grin. “You’re being dramatic.” “YOU’RE BLEEDING!” “It’s one drop!” “THAT DROP CAME FROM YOUR BODY BABY. THAT’S PRECIOUS FLUID.” You: wincing a little “Can you get me a bandaid?” “I’ll get you a medal for surviving this.” “It’s not that bad...” “Shhh. Don’t talk. Save your strength.” “...Jisung” He picks you up bridal-style “TO THE COUCH. MEDIC STATION ENGAGED.” He sets you down with a pillow “Don’t move. You might pass out.” He disappears and comes back 0.6 seconds later with: -Two band-aids -A fluffy towel -His emotional support hoodie -And a candle You blink, scared to ask... “What’s the candle for...” “In case we need to create mood lighting for your goodbye.” You start laughing. “Ji...” “Just tell me what you want for dinner in the next life.” You sigh dramatically. You can’t help it. You milk it harder just to watch him spiral “I think I’m getting dizzy…” He drops to his knees. “I’LL DIE WITH YOU.” “WHAT—” “I’M SERIOUS. ROMEO AND JULIET, BABY. I’M NOT READY TO DATE AGAIN.” “We’ve been together for 8 months.” “EXACTLY. TOO LATE TO START OVER.”

felix

You: “Ow—!” Felix: immediate record scratch from across the kitchen “What?! What happened?! What did you TOUCH?!” You hold up your hand. One small cut. One tiny drop of blood. That’s it. Felix gasps like he just watched you get stabbed. “OH MY GOD?? BABY?!” You're biting your lip to keep from laughing “…It hurts.” He practically sprints across the room, grabbing your hand like he’s about to deliver CPR. “Where?! Let me see. wait, do we need to go to the hospital?!” You dramatically flutter your lashes “I don’t know. I might faint. Hold me?” His face: shook. “Oh no no no no don’t faint, not on me, please... I didn’t take first aid this year!” “I think… I see the light.” His eyes full of panic “NO YOU DON’T.” “Tell my pet rock I loved it.” He starts fanning your face “Please don’t die, you haven’t even tried the new cookie recipe yet” You can’t help it. You snort-laugh. Felix pauses. Blink blink. “…You’re joking?” You wheeze, “You were fanning me with a potholder, Lix.” He steps back, face going red, hands still hovering mid-air “You...you LIED?!” “...Just a little.” “...I almost cried.” You grin. “That’s how much you love me, huh?” He crosses his arms. “I was gonna write you a goodbye song.” “You were???” “I had the first line already. ‘Strawberries took her, but love remains." You laugh “Oh my GOD—” --- Later, you find a band-aid on your finger with a doodled heart and tiny wings drawn in pen. And on the counter? A sticky note: “Even if you’re dramatic, I’d still die for your stupid finger. – Lixie ”

seungmin

You: “Ow—OH MY GOD.” Seungmin from the hallway : “What happened? Are you dying? Please say yes, I need a nap.” “I’m bleeding!” Seungmin walks in. Stops. Stares at you dramatically crouched on the floor “…You cut yourself slicing cucumbers again, didn’t you?” You lift your hand like Simba on Pride Rock “There’s blood. I’m leaking.” He leans over. Squints at the cut “…That is not ‘leaking.’ That is ‘lightly annoyed skin.’” You gasp. “Are you mocking my pain?!” “Yes. In 4K. Live broadcast.” You dramatically press a paper towel to your finger. “I’m going into shock.” He opens the fridge. “Should I write your will on a sticky note?” “I want my funeral catered. With champagne.” Seungmin deadpan "Noted. Now let’s wrap up this drama before I call the real medics—aka Chan and his weird healing dad voice.” But then he actually sees the cut. And pauses “Oh. Okay, that’s… deeper than I thought.” You blink. “So you do care.” “No, I care about bloodstains on the counter.” He walks off. Comes back 15 seconds later with a bandaid, antiseptic, and your favorite cartoon sticker. “Did you just bring me a Spongebob bandaid?” He's focused on dabbing your finger “Don’t make it weird.” You smile. “You’re sweet when you pretend you’re not sweet.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re loud when you pretend you’re dying.” He finishes the bandaid, carefully pressing it on. Doesn’t say anything. Then leans forward and gently kisses your forehead. You blink. He immediately straightens “You imagined that.” “I literally felt your lips—” “You imagined that!” he repeats louder, walking away. You didn't <3

i.n

You: “AH—SHIT. SHIT—” Jeongin: appears from thin air “WHO DO I HAVE TO FIGHT.” You dramatically hold up your finger. He blinks. “That’s… a paper cut.” You: “It’s worse. It’s a betrayal. I was spreading butter.” Jeongin: squints at the butter knife like it just insulted his mother “…You’re bleeding from a utensil designed for gentle smearing.” “I’m fragile. Treat me like one of your skincare serums.” He walks over, deadpan “You want a bandaid or a eulogy?” “I want a statue built in my honor.” He smirks. “Okay, I’ll put it next to the box of shame.” You gasp “You are so mean.” He pulls out his phone. Snap. “You’re gonna thank me when I show this photo to your future kids.” You glare. “Delete it.” He snorts. “Nope. This is art.” Three minutes later. You’re pouting in silence. Jeongin: still chuckling “Oh come on, baby, it’s funny.” You stay quiet. Still cradling your finger. “…You okay?” Silence. “Wait… are you… actually upset?” You sniff dramatically. His entire soul leaves his body. “OH NO—WAIT—OKAY—BABY—I’M SORRY.” He scrambles for the bandaid drawer. Pulls out three sizes, a mini ice pack, and an emergency cookie (??). “This one has Snoopy on it...do you want Snoopy? Or glitter?” You sniff again “...Snoopy.” He gently puts it on. Blows on your finger “Am I forgiven?” You squint. “…You made fun of my butter injury.” He presses his lips to your bandaged finger like it’s sacred. Then your cheek. Then your forehead. “I’ll never mock butter again. Swear on my AirPods.” You grin. He pauses “…Wait. You’re milking this, aren’t you.” You smile sweetly. “Love you~” Jeongin groans. “...I’m keeping that photo”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 198 }

matchmakers from hell.

sylus x fem.reader

notes: i gotta thank @nyashykyunnie for feeding me his main story bits! bc without her, i could not write this fluffy drabble at all! some details may not match with the canon story, and i hope you readers forgive me since i am unable to fully play his story due to lack of time and funds lksdjflkdsjfl.

warnings: kind of a crack fic, but i assure you, it's going to be filled with fluff!

kieran and luke could sense the shift in their boss’ demeanor ever since you came along.

it was so obvious that sylus was so into you, with how hard he tries to keep you safe and out of harm’s way. each time the twins watch their boss’ interactions with you, they could have sworn he held hearts in his eyes for you.

it was clear that something about you was different-

something about you was able to bring out a softer side to their boss, a side that the twins had never seen before.

but there was just one, tiny little problem-

sylus was far too arrogant-

far too prideful to admit that he cared about you, much less that he loved you, too.

so, the twins decided to take matters into their own hands, starting with their first plan by making the perfect dinner for their boss and his favorite lady...

as luke makes himself in charge of cooking, kieran takes this chance to sneak into boss' office, wanting to know what you were both up to before beginning their master plan.

remaining hidden behind the door, kieran remains quiet, watching as the scene unfolded before him...

you were gazing listlessly out the window, admiring the skyline while keeping sylus company. you figured you could busy yourself with some other chore, keeping out of sylus's way, but he insisted that you remain close to him just so he could 'keep an eye on you.'

you end up relenting, biting back your sigh as you kept your eyes focused on the city view. however, you couldn't quite ignore sylus's expression. while watching sylus's reflection, you saw the way mephisto remained vigilantly by his side, and each time he picked up a new weapon, assessing it before gingerly cleaning it with a velvet cloth, your eyes were glued to such pristine and precise movements.

the sight of his devastatingly handsome features was so painful for you that you felt your hands ball into fists. you distract yourself by leaning closer to the large window pane, resting your forehead against the cold glass with your eyes closed.

you hear the sound of sylus's chair shifting coupled along with heavy footsteps, stiffening when sylus comes closer to you. his hands automatically wrap around the front of your abdomen, pulling you away from the window.

"don't stand too close to the window. i don't trust you to remain safe, even if my windows are bulletproof."

you narrow your gaze at sylus, facing him with a look of annoyance, "are you hinting that i'm foolish enough to jump through bulletproof glass?"

a smirk paints his features, his large hands already enveloping around yours, tightening his hold around your wrists as he brings you closer to his chest. "not exactly; i just fear that you would be clumsy enough to trip over your own feet and somehow break through such glass."

even when sylus was mocking you, he does end up taking you even further away from the window, settling you in the middle of the room...

kieran leans even closer to the door, watching as his boss frames at your face, whispering something to you. curious as to what was being said, the young man keeps creeping closer-

unfortunately, he ends up miscalculating, landing face first against the floor as his ungraceful movements catches yours and sylus's attention. kieran hears the familiar click of his boss' tongue, feeling nervous as he quickly stands back to his full height.

"what's this?" the leader of onychinu's eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of his loyal henchman, causing kieran to erupt in bouts of nervous laughter.

"well, you see-"

"WE JUST WANTED TO CALL YOU AND LET YOU KNOW THAT DINNER'S READY!" as if sensing the danger kieran was in, luke steps into the scene, arms comically waving around while speaking loudly, distracting you and sylus from the fact that kieran was obviously spying on the two of you.

wishing to diffuse the situation yourself, you stand next to sylus while saying, "dinner sounds amazing right about now. why don't we join kieran and luke?"

sylus lets out a grunt, the suspicion never leaving his gaze as watches the twins bounced away from them and into the dining room. with a scoff, sylus places a hand behind your back, "i suppose dinner would be a nice break from work." with a snap of his fingers, sylus calls mephisto toward his shoulders before beginning the trek to the dining room with you.

you hum in agreement, trying to maintain a calm and neutral façade while feeling sylus's hand behind your back. only when you and sylus step into the dining room did you feel your own suspicions beginning to grow.

for starters, the large dining table was now replaced with a simple table that was considerably smaller, with two chairs settled on opposite ends of the table. in the middle of the table was a single, large plate of what looked like spaghetti with meat sauce with two forks and two glasses filled with wine settled off to the side.

as you and sylus glance over at the twins, you saw them step backwards, coughing while waving at you both.

"w-well, me and kieran already had a huge lunch, so you lov- i mean, you guys enjoy!" without waiting another second, the twins disappear, their laughters heard echoing throughout the hallways.

you didn't have to face sylus to know that he had a vein popping against his temple. looking at him from your periphery, you watch him let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "it smells normal enough from here, let's just eat."

you nod in agreement, taking a seat across from sylus before picking up a fork. pouting a bit at how the twins didn't give you and sylus the decency of separate plates, you sigh and dig into the spaghetti noodles.

at first, nothing was out of the ordinary. this spaghetti wasn't the best you ever had, but it was good enough. as you continue to slurp up the noodle, you became increasingly aware of how much closer sylus was getting to you as well.

only when your noses were close to touching did sylus bite off the noodle with a growl, and you do the same while trying to maintain a calm expression. with your hands over your lips, you watch as sylus picks up the spaghetti noodles, finally realizing that the twins had somehow fused all the noodles together, making it into one large, never-ending noodle.

with a roar of their names, sylus stalks away from the dinner table, leaving you behind as you struggled to fight back your laughter, with mephisto cawing in response to his master's anger and annoyance.

it seems as though the twin's plans had failed...

but they would be nothing if not for their sheer tenacity.

{ ... }

you were currently in your bedroom, looking down at your jewelry box as your eyes take in the sight of the ruby necklace that lay in front of you.

"i was out running errands and saw this. i figured you'd like it." sylus's deep voice rings from within your memories as you take the necklace out of the safety of the jewelry box. as you place the the pendant on the palm of your hand, you take a moment to admire how the ruby was shaped into the perfect, crescent moon.

the brilliance and shade of the ruby was enough to remind you of sylus's eyes, making your heart begin to race in response. you had yet to put on the necklace, wishing to somehow cherish it, since it was clear that such kindness coming from sylus was as rare as a blue rose.

his grumpy face when he gifts you such a necklace (on a whim, too) was what ultimately plays over and over again in your memories. running your hand through the slender chain, you had every intention of finally donning the necklace-

"CAW CAW!"

only to let out a gasp when mephisto makes a nose dive towards your precious necklace, managing to take it away from your very grasps as you cried out to him.

"hey! stop! give that back!"

you end up chasing the crow, running all around the place as you tried to follow the crow's swift movements. mephisto ends up spitting out the necklace inside of a closet. seeing the sparkling jewelry close to your grasps, you didn't stop going after it, landing within the closet while letting out a triumphant sound-

only to feel your heart sink when the doors to the closet closes completely.

"wait, what is this?" you place both palms of your hands against the closet, but found that you were unable to open it. your mind was screaming in frustration as you peer through the slits, only to see kieran (or was it luke?) settling a chair beneath the closet's doorknob.

"no, you've got to be kidding me! this isn't funny guys!" laughter fills at the air, and you kept pounding at the closet doors while demanding that they let you out-

but to no avail.

"KIERAN, LUKE-"

"please don't start screaming, or else you'll make my headache even worse."

your eyes go wide, and you look behind you to see sylus settled near the wall. he grunts and shoves aside the clothes hanging beside him, making you visibly relax just the tiniest bit.

"you got trapped in here, too?"

sylus lets out a grunt, "indeed. it appears that we have both been duped."

"but what are they trying to do...?" sylus remains silent when you ask him that question, noticing the way you held the necklace he had gifted you in your hands.

"why is that necklace in your hand? did you plan to throw it out?" you noticed the way sylus tries to maintain his aloof attitude, but the certain edge heard in his voice made it clear that the thought of you tossing aside the necklace he had given you bothered him.

you look down at the necklace and shake your head, "no, sylus, i had no intention of throwing it out."

"i gave that to you months ago. why haven't you worn it then? what? is it not expensive enough for you?"

his biting words make your heart clench in pain for the briefest of moments, yet you knew that you had to clear up this misunderstanding by being honest with him. "no, that's not it at all. it's just... i was really happy when you gave this necklace to me. words couldn't describe how i was feeling... and i just... i wanted to just keep looking at it. to somehow burn the memory of you giving this to me into my very mind..."

sylus remains silent, but as you met his gaze, you notice how his rufescent eyes had taken on an almost softer quality. you hum and turn around so that your back was facing him, with you revealing the necklace to him. "if you don't mind, can you help me put it on?"

you couldn't see sylus, however, you could feel the necklace moving away from the palm of your hand. with sylus brushing aside your hair, he carefully places the necklace on you, with its pendant facing forward before fastening it.

when you felt him let go of the necklace, allowing it to fall against your chest, you turn around and had every intention of thanking him-

only to feel your eyes go wide the moment sylus leans down to press a searing kiss against your lips.

no words were spoken when you allowed yourself to fall into his embrace, letting out a soft moan of his name when sylus practically crushes you to his chest. he gently presses his tongue against your lips, making you automatically part them for him as he further deepened the kiss.

while you were caught up in his kiss, the entire universe seemed to melt away, leaving behind two kindred souls who have finally found each other...

{ ... }

close to an hour had passed since the twins and mephisto helped lock you in the closet with their boss, and they became filled with concern at how there wasn't a single sound heard coming from the closet.

fearing for their lives (and believing that their boss was silently seething with rage for them), they remove the chair from the closet and toss open the doors-

only to find their boss still locking lips with his lady love in a passionate kiss.

kieran and luke were left flabbergasted at the sight, with it taking them a full minute to process what was going on. slowly, they began to close the door once more, amused giggles escaping from them as they quickly tiptoed away from the room.

"it seems like operation seven minutes in heaven was a success after all."

a.n. - they are two idiots in love, your honor. also,,,, wtf why was this so much fun to write?? i had a blast writing this, and i hope that it was just as fun for you readers to read as well. currently unedited, but i'll make changes once this is posted. 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    

[mommyslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped. 

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[mellowwillowy]

I love how you portray self aware twst!

Can i request a yan! Self aware twisted wonderland and player who just recently entered twst? Unaware that they're considered as a "god" (not cannibal pls)

Like, the player is shy and quiet at first but if they get comfortable enough with someone they'll be more talkative and a lil' extroverted?

The not cannibal pls had me laughing, I really turned the player into this man-eater huh lol. Can't really write that much about reader so I'll just feed you some irrelevant crumbs.

The whole campus is probably still in a mess despite your diet though. Students fight against each other out of jealousy to drag each other down so that you can focus more on them.

Riddle and Azul's rivalries are the funniest. Especially because Riddle finally notices how capable Azul is in doing better than him now (maybe not academically lol). Truly they both are almost like carbon copy in your eyes.

Leona and Vil walk side by side dissing each other while presenting themselves as a complete 180 to you.

Idia shaking in his boots trying to appear less giddy and anxious in your eyes while Kalim just sings songs as he hops his way to you with his gold jingling merrily.

Malleus is very straightforward about his wish to worshipping you, even going as far as to kneel down immediately upon you noticing him while Lilia just casually wraps his arm around you, acting all buddy-like while savoring the closeness between you two. Malleus is jealous, petty jealous of him.

In your eyes, you just feel like you are just some transmigrated protagonist in a romance game, unaware of how sinister their feelings are toward you, their player, their God.

But it turns out that their God is quite the humble one huh? They don't pride themselves on their holiness, they don't differentiate their treatment from one another (unless you are biased) and they are actually very quiet and collected!

It takes a lot of prying to finally see you pay attention to them and laugh at the jokes Ace and Deuce crack. It takes effort for the beastmen for you to finally feel how fluffy their ears are! Jack's tail is wagging so hard that Ruggie had to step on it.

It takes lots of convincing acts and guilt-tripping for Jade to make you visit Mostro Lounge and enjoy the drinks Floyd specifically makes for you, the prettiest and most delicious drinks you've ever had!

It takes a lot of effort for Cater to finally have you posing for the selfies he takes with you! It takes a lot of time for Trey to finally know which treats gain your attention and suits your liking after making shit tons of them.

It takes a lot of guilt-tripping from Jamil to make you finally attend one of the feasts Kalim throws for you and oh boy was it grand.

It's not hard for Epel to win your attention because of how cute he is lol. But it sure is hard for him to gain your trust that he's just a boy. Rook on the other hand creeps you out so much that you have to tell him to stop and that indirectly means you finally notice him!

It takes lots of convincing from Ortho to finally make you agree to play with him in the board game club that Idia and Azul are in. You finally know just how normal they are when they are playing, yes, normal (they are literally fighting teeth and nails to win it).

It takes a lot of effort for Sebek not to scream around you while Silver tries his best not to doze off on your shoulder. The first time being close to you instantly made him fall asleep soundly while Sebek had to sing praises for you in a voice that could shake the ground.

It was easy for Neige to warm into you because well, he's kind, sweet, and all but he has this protagonist aura to him unlike those NRC boys (except Silver and Kalim). He loves singing for you!

It was also easy for Chen'ya to get into your funny side by pulling countless harmless pranks on you (unlike Ace who has to try hard, again, RSA aura).

Rollo on the other hand worships you like there's no tomorrow. He's great at masking it as something far from obsession and not creeping you away unlike Malleus but he certainly has a shrine dedicated to you in his room too. A bit small if compared to the fae's.

Bonus: Fellow and Gideon scaring you because of how weird they are but Gideon manages to melt your heart so you decide to trust Fellow.

[mrshigurumasshop]

Pregnancy Cravings | Toji Fushiguro ~ the one where he tries your odd cravings

─➭ pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! wife reader

─➭ mentions of: reader is pregnant, anything pregnancy related, super fluffy, weird food combinations(?), toji is a lil meanie but he’s a good man here

note: i’m trying to get back into writing so i’m posting this draft i never finished

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Toji Fushiguro loves you with all he’s got and that’s a fact. He knows you like the back of his hand because you molded yourself into his and megumi’s life. So when you told him that you’re pregnant, he was practically holding back tears because he finally made what he wanted with you true.

Now going back to him knowing you like the back of his hand, that changed when you got into your second trimester of your pregnancy.

Your food cravings were the bane of his existence because of how much it changed your food choices. The things you used to like made you sick in an instant. The smell of pork belly bowl used to make your mouth water and now you turn green then run to the bathroom.

And don’t get him started on the weirdest shit you put together and that shouldn’t be together.

One time it was peanut butter and chicken. Another was vanilla ice cream with bacon bits on top, specifically from the diner that you and toji take megumi to during lunch. And this recent snack was another added to the list.

It was the ass crack of dawn when Toji woke up to hearing cupboards opening and closing, along with the fridge. He sighed as he rolled onto his back to see if you were awake but it turns out that you weren’t even in bed. To him that was an immediate sign that you woke up hungry and craving.

He throws the blanket off before getting out of bed to walk towards the kitchen. And sure enough, there you were eating a spoonful of god knows what.

“Doll…,” he quietly calls to you.

You let out a little squeak in surprise hearing the man’s deep but hot ass voice from behind you. “You scared me,” you whine with a pout.

Toji smiles as he walks towards you and sees a bowl in your hands and glides his hands on your hips. “What are you eating so early in the damn morning?” he grumbles.

“Watermelon,” you say as you lift the fork with a piece of watermelon to his mouth.

But there’s something on the watermelon. Toji doesn’t hesitate to form a scowl on his face seeing that there’s white stuff on top of it. “The fuck is that?” he deadpanned.

You roll your eyes because he’s being dramatic. “It’s good, trust me,” you say.

“That didn’t answer my question, babydoll.”

“Well, it tastes good so try it,” you bite back.

The man doesn’t trust you one bit because you crave weird shit but he can’t say no to you. So he silently answers you by taking the piece of fruit in his mouth.

And sweet god did that taste GROSS…

Toji spit it out into the sink he was next too before he could even get another bite in. “Was that fucking mayonnaise?!” he whisper-yelled, “Fuck, that was sour!”

You roll your eyes with pout because he was being unnecessarily dramatic and a bit mean. “Yeah, it’s that Kewpie mayonnaise…,” you say quietly.

“God, that was fuckin’ nasty,” he sighs aggressively as he grabs a water bottle to drink out of, “How can that taste good to you?” he says as he turns back to you.

You look up at him with a deeper pout. “Why don’t you ask the child that’s growing inside me. Jerk…,” you mumble the last part before waddling away with the bowl in your hands.

Your husband aggressively lets out a sigh as he rubs his eyes with the ball of his palms. “It’s too early for this,” he mumbled as he began to follow you out to the patio of your backyard. He leaves the screen door open to listen for Megumi as he sees you bundled up in the comfy lounge chairs eating the god awful snack in your hand.

He walks towards you in big strides as you ignore him and keep your eyes on on the backyard. He stands next to you waiting for you to acknowledge him but you still ignore him. You know he’s seething in his mind right now because he hates the silent treatment. It continues for another 45 seconds till a squeal was pulled out of you as Toji effortlessly picks you up just to sit himself back down on the chair with you on his lap.

And damn it, the man was warm. You didn’t bother to fight out of his hold because you chose to cuddle right into his chest. You nuzzle your forehead into his neck and position your fuzzy socked feet in between his thigh and the dip of the chair. You keep the bowl of watermelon on your lap to continue eating.

Toji was pulling the blanket that was covering over you to fit both of you as you got comfy on his lap. One of his arms wrap around your round tummy oh so gently to get you as close to him as possible. His other arm wrap around your legs to keep your lower half warm.

“I’m still mad,” you mumble softly as you shove another piece of watermelon in your mouth.

“I know, baby,” he smiles softly feeling you chew with your cheek against his chest, “I’m still a jerk but don’t be a brat and sit out here without me in the cold.” You smile at his “apology” as you continue eating with silence. Then you hear Toji sigh before he speaks again,

“Just so you know…I’ll always be grateful that you’re my wife and the mother to both my kids.”

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[itelya]

synopsis: you are sick and your loving boyfriend/husband worried about you.

character [separate]: Nanami Kento x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader, Suguru Geto x reader, poor! Toji Fushiguro x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader, Choso Kamo x reader.

warning: SFW sweet & fluffy asf, suitable for all genders

words: 2030.

Kento N.

You've been sick for two days after a weekend in the mountains with Nanami. Feeling guilty for exposing you to the cold, he's been trying his best to take care of you, as he knows so well how to do.

"I feel guilty.. because of me that my love is sick." he whispered, his gaze filled with remorse.

You shook your head, the warmth of his gaze comforting you more than the blankets you had on you. "It’s not your fault, Ken, I’m the one who didn’t take care of myself enough. You have nothing to reproach yourself for."

You couldn't help but smile. You kept telling him that it wasn't his fault but yours for not being covered well enough but he wouldn't listen. You see him working with as much attention. He continued to watch over you, bringing more tea, adjusting the blankets around you with almost military precision, and cracking his clumsy jokes, just to see you smile.

You dozed off for a moment, enjoying the warmth he brought, but you woke up quickly when he leaned down gently to place a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want me to bring you something else, or would you rather just stay here, quiet?" he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper. You looked at him with a tired but sincere smile. "Just you, Nanami. That’s all I need to feel better."

He smiled, a glint of tenderness in his eyes, and settled down next to you, making sure not to move until you were fully recovered. In moments like these, you knew you were in good hands.

Gojo S.

You sneeze once more. Gojo, who was already looking at you with worried eyes, abruptly gets up from the chair he was sitting in. He takes his phone and dials the number of one of his available doctors.

You're sure of it because you barely started coughing, Gojo wanted to call but you managed to convince him that it will pass. It doesn't end up being the case.

You roll your eyes with a sigh. "Gojo... that's ridiculous. It will pass, it's just a little cough.", he gives you a half-offended, half-stubborn look. "Ridiculous? You're sick, it's a national emergency, baby. Do you want me to wait until it gets worse and you're bedridden for days?"

Before you can even answer, he's already talking to a doctor. "Yes, good evening, Doctor? It's Gojo Satoru. I have an emergency. Yes, it’s serious. My love has been coughing and sneezing for a few hours, and I think it could be… something serious."

You stifle a laugh despite yourself as you hear him exaggerate the situation. "Gojo, it’s not the Black Death either!" He looks at you and signals you to be quiet. "Shh, I’m handling it." Then, he continues with the doctor. "Yes, okay. Very well. I’ll write everything down and we’ll come if necessary. Thank you, Doctor."

As he hangs up, he looks at you with a triumphant smile. "Here, I’ve got it all planned out. Rest, hydration, and a list of medications just in case."

"You know you’re being dramatic, right?", you say, crossing your arms. "Maybe.", he replies, sitting down next to you. "But if it keeps you healthy, I’m willing to be ridiculous."

And despite your initial annoyance, you can’t help but smile. Gojo had this unique way of showing you how much he cared for you, even in times when you would have preferred him to calm down a little.

Geto S.

Lying on the couch, a soft blanket wrapped around you, you tried to fight the fever that had been pinning you there since the day before. Your nose was stuffy, your throat was on fire, and every muscle in your body seemed to scream in pain. All because of that stupid outing in the rain he had insisted on doing.

"It’ll be okay, you’ll see, a little rain never killed anyone," Geto had told you with his mischievous smile, as he led you on an unplanned walk, under a threatening sky.

But now, he was looking at you with remorseful eyes, a tray in his hands, containing hot soup and a glass of water.

"I’m sorry," he whispered for the umpteenth time as he placed the tray on the coffee table.

"You’ve said it ten times already," you replied in a hoarse voice, a slight smile stretching your lips despite the fatigue. “But I forgive you… even if I’m a little angry with you.” He crouched down beside you, his serious gaze fixed on yours.

"You should be very angry with me. I should never have insisted. But now, I’m going to make up for it. You just have to ask, and I’ll take care of it, understood?" You nodded softly, amused by his authoritarian tone that betrayed a great deal of guilt.

"Then stay here. That’s enough for me."

A comfortable silence settled between you. He sat down next to you, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. Then, with a tender gesture, he brushed a lock of hair from your forehead.

Toji F.

You've been sick for a few days now because of a meal Toji made for you with expired leftovers from his fridge (he didn't pay attention to the expiration dates). It was his clumsy way of making you happy for once, but instead, you're sick because of him. Eaten up by guilt, he did everything he could to make it up to you.

To make matters worse, he had wanted to buy you what you needed to heal and comfort you, but he had quickly found himself facing a problem: he didn't have a penny in his pocket. He had ended up asking you for your own card to pay for your medications and your favorite meals.

"I’m so sorry, baby… I’m ashamed, really… I’m not worthy of you," he whispered, his voice almost shaking. You coughed slightly before giving him a reassuring smile. "It’s not your fault, Toji. You deserve me, and you know it. You made a mistake, it happens to everyone."

Toji looks at you silently, hesitant, then he sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. "You say that, but I keep screwing up… I meant well, and look where it got us. You stuck in bed, and me paying with your card when I’m the one who made you sick…"

You reached out a hand to grab his. Despite his clumsiness, you knew his intentions were sincere. "Toji, what matters is that you’re here for me right now. You’re doing your best, and that’s all I ask of you."

He smiled before leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. "You’re such a good for me." With a tired but genuine smile, you replied, "Because I love you, even if you don’t do everything perfectly."

Toji then took a blanket to put it on your shoulders and wrapped you gently. "Now, I'll take care of everything. What do you need? Water? Another herbal tea? Is your pillow well installed?"

You laughed softly, touched by his sudden protectiveness. He was rarely like this even though he loved you. "Toji, calm down, it’s okay. Just sit with me, that’s all I want."

He nods, almost relieved that you’re not asking him for anything more complicated. He sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close. "I promise, I’ll do better next time. But for now, at least let me cherish you as best I can."

Despite your fatigue and your persistent stomach ache, you had found comfort in his arms, feeling all his sincerity in his clumsy but loving gestures.

Sukuna R.

You fell seriously ill because of a servant of Sukuna, who poisoned you with a tea, consumed by jealousy towards your relationship with him. When he found out the truth, his anger was like hell, horrible and without real words to describe. Without the slightest hesitation, he killed her mercilessly.

Sukuna returned to your bedside. Despite his often impassive air and his terrifying reputation, he did not hesitate to take care of you with surprising attention. His hands, so accustomed to killing, were surprisingly delicate in touching you.

“Rest.” he orders, his tone intended to be authoritative, but with a hint of gentleness in it. He has summoned the best healers, demanding that they examine you and treat you immediately. You know he blames himself, even if it’s not his fault.

When they left, he stayed by your side, sitting on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he simply observed you, his dark gaze softened by an almost indecipherable expression. You were so beautiful even when weakened.

“If you would have died because of her, I would have never forgiven myself,” he whispers, his voice low but filled with a weight you’ve never heard before. You crack a weak smile despite your extremely tired and weak state. He was so gentle with you in private, more than he would have liked.

"I'm fine... thanks to you Sukuna. I love you.", he doesn't answer, his voice could become weak in front of you, he doesn't want to. He wants to be strong for you. He stands there, watching over you without a word, as if he refuses to take his eyes off you even for a moment, not letting anyone in.

For the first time, you glimpse a side of Sukuna that perhaps you must have known: a man capable of protecting without hesitation what he considers precious.

"I love you too."

Choso K.

You were lying on the couch, your face pale and your eyes half-closed, a warm blanket wrapped around you. The flu had caught you after her day spent with Choso, accompanying him to a tattoo parlor. You had insisted on coming to support him, but the cold morning air, combined with the hours spent in the poorly heated room, had gotten the better of you.

Choso, who never stopped blaming himself, watches you with a worried expression. He sits down next to you, gently stroking your hair, a tenderness in his gesture that contrasts with his usual air.

"I told you you didn't have to come," he murmured, his eyes filled with guilt. "I could have gone alone." You open your eyes slightly and sketch a tired smile, his voice hoarse but soft. "But I would have missed you, Choso. And besides... you knew I would insist on being there with you, even if it was to get you tattooed for hours."

He breathes, a slight frustration in his voice. "I'm sorry... You shouldn't have been exposed to all that." You shake your head gently, although your weakness doesn't stop you from wanting to reassure him. "It's okay... It's not your fault. I should have covered myself better, that's all."

Choso gets up and goes back to the kitchen, he prepares you a cup of hot tea that he brings to you delicately. He sits down next to you, making sure you were comfortable before handing you the cup.

"Drink this, it should help you a little. And I'm staying to watch over you, you can't refuse." You take the cup with a weak smile and take a few sips, enjoying the warmth that returns to his body. Choso smiled at you and brushed your forehead to check your temperature.

"Okay but if you give me a little tattoo...", she whispered, a playful wink. Choso smiled softly, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead.

"Maybe next time, when you're in better shape, I promise."

He stayed there, watching over you, ready to do anything to make you feel better. In his eyes, you could see all the sweetness and care he had for her. You knew he would do anything to make you happy.

any opinion is appreciated! thanks for reading till the end 💗

pls note and reblog!

masterlist

requests: OPEN.

© 2025 itelya. All work belongs to @itelya. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

[uramakimochi]

THE FAVORITE

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

Jily + Slytherin Gang x Wolfstar!daughter!Reader (platonic)

WARNINGS: fluffy crack fic, inspired by this and inspired by the trend on tiktok where families see which member the toddler first runs to. FEM!R but no use of Y/n. I tried to write this with the 3rd person pov sorry if i repeat the same words lol but i don't like using Y/N.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

Hiii i'm back with a lil Wolfstar!daughter story~ It's a bit random but i hope you still like this<3

"I still don't understand why we're doing this..." Barty muttered, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Come on Barty, it's cute" said Marlene, sitting on the couch at the Lupin-Black house.

"It's stupid" the other retorted.

"Yeah. There's no need to play this game, we all know that her favorite is me. I'm her beloved father" Sirius continued, intent on putting out the cigarette he had just finished smoking.

The other adults around him looked at him unimpressed and Remus turned to look at his husband questioningly.

"I am her father too?"

"You're the bad cop between us, she loves me more" Sirius retorted with a smirk.

"No, she doesn't"

"Yes, she does"

"No"

"Yes"

"Can you two stop so we can do this once and for all?" Regulus's voice then rang out in the living room, which made the couple stop bickering.

Barty rolled his eyes and with a light push pushed himself away from the wall to join all the other adults who were lining up in the middle of the living room.

"Know that i'm only doing this to show you that i'm my little viper's favorite" he said, positioning himself between Evan and Dorcas.

"Hah, you wish. I'm her godfather" James said, looking at him arrogantly.

"She's not even old enough to know what a godfather is" Evan retorted, and Dorcas leaned forward to fist bump him.

"Well, i'm her godmother. And i'm the only one out of you all here that always give her presents" and when Barty raised his hand to add something, the redhead pointed a finger at him. "Non-Dangerous presents, Junior"

"Billy was a harmless snake! I would've never given my baby a poisonous one as a pet!"

The women rolled their eyes in disgust, while Regulus looked at the Potter couple.

"I'm not one to compete for these things, but if we really want to be precise, the first person she saw when Sirius and Remus brought her home was me. I'm sure that the bond that unites us will bring her straight away to me"

"What, you think you imprinted on her? The werewolf here is Remus" Dorcas retorted, making everyone else chuckling and Regulus looked at her awkwardly.

While all the relatives continued to discuss, Remus cast one last look at the little girl he held in his arms and who was looking at him curiously.

"Okay my darling, are you ready?"

The little girl giggled when she saw the smile on Remus' lips, but then a look of confusion spread across her face when he brought her back down to the ground, leaving her standing on the carpet.

Remus stepped back to join the others but when he realized that she was about to follow him with a whine, he stretched his hands forward to stop her.

"Stay there sweetheart. Stay there" he ordered her softly.

The toddler stopped and continued to look at him in confusion, not understanding why he was walking away from her. As soon as Remus lined up next to Sirius, everyone crouched down and opened their arms wide and within seconds they were calling out to her.

"Sweetie! Look here!" "Come here babygirl!" "Come to Daddy!" "Little viper, here!"

The little girl swept her eyes over each of the relatives who were calling out to her making grabby hands in her direction. Suddenly she took a couple of shaky steps forward and they started calling her louder.

"Come here my darling, come to daddy! The best and most beautiful one!" Sirius exclaimed, who received an elbow in the side from Remus.

But both parents' hearts broke when they saw their little girl go from walking to running towards none other than James Potter.

"Yesss!"

James stood up holding the little girl in his arms and did a small turn around, while the little girl let out a little squeal. "In your face!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at each of them. "This is the power of the godfather!"

"No, it's the James Potter effect" Marlene murmured, looking at him with a pout.

"You were just lucky, Potter!" Barty continued.

James gave the little girl a couple of loud kisses on the cheek and crossed the living room to bring her back to where she had started. As soon as he sat down on the couch to enjoy the show, his friends started calling her again.

Maybe she was still young to understand that the point of that game was to run towards her favorite member or maybe she simply didn't have a favorite one. All she cared about was running towards someone and that's what she did again.

And second place on the favorites podium was won by Regulus.

"Oh come on!" Barty yelled again, opening his arms wide in exasperation when he saw the toddler wrap her arms around the younger Black's body.

Regulus smirked, leaning his head to press a kiss to her forehead, muttering an "I knew it".

Sirius looked at them shocked. "Maybe he really imprinted on my daughter?" he muttered, receiving a slap on the arm from Remus.

When Regulus put the little girl back on her feet she wasted no time in running towards the first person she saw. Do you think she chose one of her parents this time? Well, you're wrong.

"What?!?!" both Sirius and Remus blurted out.

The former almost fell to the ground on his knees. It's okay to lose to James, it's okay to lose to Regulus. But being beaten by Junior too?? Now that's humiliating.

Barty gave them the middle finger, a gesture which fortunately the little girl didn't notice, too busy digging her fingers into his thin cheeks.

"I don't understand why only the men are winning. What happened to solidarity between women?" Lily huffed, crossing her arms.

"It only happened because he was in her path" Dorcas hissed. "If we had switched places she would've chosen me"

"You're all just jealous snakes" Barty retorted, then he lowered his head and looked at the little girl, reaching out with a finger to touch her chest. "As for you, little viper... I'm very disappointed, you know? It took you long enough, you broke my heart"

But she simply laughed, not caring about his mock reproachful tone.

So the race continued.

And when Sirius and Remus thought that this time at least one of them would be chosen, they felt their morale go under their feet when they saw their daughter running to all the girls. First Lily, then Dorcas and Marlene and they all cheered with joy at not having ended up in last place in the ranking.

"That's it" Sirius said, glaring at Evan, the only remaining uncle. "There's no way one of us is going to lose to Rosier, right babe?"

"Absolutely" Remus nodded, also determined to win at all costs.

Evan looked at them indifferently, while the girls and James laughed.

Barty looked from the little one to her parents with a cocky smile. "Do your worst little viper!"

Remus and Sirius glared at him, then crouched down again and opened their arms and Evan did the same.

"Sweetheart look here! Look at daddy!" the taller one called her, using the sweetest tone his voice was capable of. "Come here, gimme a kiss!"

"You know what honey? I don't care if you choose dad over me, the important thing is that you don't go to Uncle Evan hm?" Sirius continued with a fake smile. "Come here, just give me a hug!"

The toddler took a step towards them and a light of hope lit up in both of their eyes. But then, for a split second, her gaze fell on Evan's. He gave her a small closed-lipped smile and then he said a simple "Come on, little one".

That was all it took to make her change her mind and run towards him. Evan wrapped an arm around her little body, pulling her close to his chest, and everyone else except Remus and Sirius burst out laughing. Sirius lowered his head in despair.

"I failed as a father, i understand" he murmured in a dramatic tone and Remus patted his shoulder also disappointed.

"We both failed darling"

Junior jumped up from the couch and walked over to Evan and the toddler, raising a hand in the air.

"I'm so proud little viper, give me a high five"

She obviously returned the gesture, not understanding why but only knowing that seeing her Uncle Barty happy made her happy.

Lily leaned over to rest her head on James shoulder sitting next to her and she looked at the two parents with a pout. "Aw guys, don't be so sad. It's just a game"

"Yes" Regulus nodded. "Although i'm quite proud to have been chosen in the second round, i'm sure that her choices were completely random. Nothing to be taken seriously"

Remus smiled slightly, while Sirius shook his head and then stood up to look at them.

"No. There is still the last challenge: the one that will determine the real winner. Between me and Remus"

Remus looked at him amused. "Sirius, it's a game"

But Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're only saying that because you already know you'll lose to me, don't you Lupin?"

Remus' calm expression fell within seconds to make room for a defiant look.

"And you're only saying that because you're scared, aren't you?"

James looked at them with a smirk and made himself more comfortable on the sofa. "This is getting interesting"

Dorcas turned to the others.

"Anyone betting on Lupin?" she asked and herself, Lily, Marlene and Regulus raised their hands.

"Reggie i thought you were on my side??" Sirius exclaimed feeling betrayed by his own brother, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

As Sirius and Remus got into position, Evan lowered the little girl onto the carpet. A few seconds later the two fathers began calling her.

"My sweet little girl, come here to daddy!" Sirius exclaimed, making grabbing hands towards her. "If you give me a hug i'll get you the biggest dollhouse ever!"

"You won't buy her another dollhouse!" Remus retorted, then looked at her with a smile. "Sweetheart, i know you love me more, right?? I really really need your cuddles right now! Come to me!"

Everyone present anxiously watched the little girl's moves, who this time spent much more time deciding which of the two to go to. Maybe she really realized the purpose of the challenge?

Then one step. Another. And another again. Until finally the little girl gave in to her father's calls and reached him, hugging him around the neck.

Everyone screamed when they saw her slam into Remus' body.

The latter stood up victorious and made her bounce in his arms, while Sirius let out a heartbroken sigh.

"The bad cop still wins in the end" Remus said, smirking at his husband, rubbing his nose against his daughter's soft cheek and making her laugh.

But despite the joy that one of the two fathers exuded, it was as if the toddler noticed that the other did not seem as happy as everyone else. So she began to squirm in Remus' arms and he barely had time to put her down before she hurried over to meet Sirius, collapsing against his chest.

"Awww!" the girls exclaimed.

Sirius wrapped his arms around her little body, holding her close and rocking her from side to side, while he and Remus exchanged a tender look.

"Looks like it's a tie" James said with a smile as he stood up and Lily followed him.

"It was obvious. There's no need of a silly game to determine who her favorite is" Marlene continued, squeezing Dorcas' hand. "It will always be her beloved parents"

Sirius stood up and Remus leaned over to give him a kiss on the forehead and then give one to their daughter's head, who was looking at them smiling from Sirius' arms. Who was looking at them with eyes full of someone who loves both of her fathers equally. Neither more nor less.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hi!! I have an idea for Jeonghan. You know The8's song Cold love. (It's my favorite).

The idea is this. The reader has a crush on him, even tho there in the same group (pls idol au), But he's cold, and distant to her/them.

It can be either a fluffy or angsty ending, with her leaving the group of them ending up together.

The reader can be Gn, or female I don't mind any.

I Love your writing, it brings me comfort 🫶

Cold Love | idol!Jeonghan x 14thmember!Reader | angst, fluff

The sun dipped behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The secluded cabin where Seventeen had gathered felt warm and lively, but to Y/N, it felt anything but.

She sat on the wooden deck, looking out at the calm lake that stretched before her. It was supposed to be a relaxing trip a short break before Jeonghan left for the military in a few months. Everyone had been excited about it, especially since they hadn’t had much downtime lately. But for Y/N, this trip had been nothing but painful.

She glanced back toward the large glass windows of the cabin. The rest of the group was inside, laughing and playing games, but her eyes were fixed on one person Jeonghan. He was sitting at the dining table, smiling at something Mingyu said. That smile was the reason she had fallen for him in the first place. It was soft, warm, and made her feel safe.

But lately, he hadn’t shown that side to her.

Not once.

Instead, he had been cold. Distant. Unkind.

Her chest tightened as she turned back toward the lake, hugging her knees. She wanted to believe there was a reason for his behavior some explanation that made sense but she was tired of waiting for answers.

“Y/N?”

She flinched at the sound of her name and quickly wiped at her eyes before turning to see Joshua approaching her.

“You okay?” he asked, crouching beside her.

“Yeah,” she lied.

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you’ve been out here for almost an hour, and you missed dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Not hungry, or avoiding someone?” Joshua’s voice was gentle, but his words hit her hard.

She didn’t answer.

“You know,” he said, sitting down next to her, “whatever’s going on between you and Jeonghan, you should talk to him about it. The tension’s so thick it’s making the rest of us uncomfortable.”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh. “There is no ‘me and Jeonghan.’ He made that very clear.”

Joshua hesitated before speaking again. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Then why does he act like I don’t exist?” Her voice cracked.

Joshua frowned but didn’t push any further. Instead, he stood and offered her a hand. “Come inside. It’s getting cold.”

She took his hand and let him pull her up, but her heart sank as she caught Jeonghan’s gaze through the window. For just a moment, something flashed in his eyes worry? Pain? But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he looked away.

————————————————————————————-

Dinner had ended, and the group gathered in the living room for games. Y/N sat quietly in the corner, barely paying attention as the others laughed and teased each other. She tried to join in, but her mind kept drifting back to Jeonghan.

It wasn’t fair. She had poured her heart out to him months ago, told him how she felt. And he had rejected her not with words, but with silence and distance.

It hurt more than she ever thought it could.

“Y/N, it’s your turn,” Seungkwan said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She blinked. “What?”

“We’re playing charades. Your turn.”

“Oh… okay.”

She stood awkwardly, trying to focus, but the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her and Jeonghan sitting just across the room made her panic.

“I can’t. Sorry.” She quickly sat down again, her cheeks burning.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said, but the tears threatening to spill told a different story.

Jeonghan shifted in his seat, his fists clenched. He wanted to say something to do something but he couldn’t. The management’s warning echoed in his head. No relationships. No scandals. If he stepped out of line, she could be kicked out of the group.

But seeing her like this, breaking apart because of him, was unbearable.

“Y/N.” His voice was sharp.

She froze, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Can I talk to you? Outside?”

The room fell silent, everyone’s eyes darting between the two of them.

“No,” Y/N snapped.

Jeonghan flinched. “Y/N—”

“No!” She stood up, her voice rising. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to ignore me, push me away, and then suddenly decide you want to talk when it’s convenient for you!”

The other members stared in shock as her voice cracked with emotion.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?” she cried. “You know how I feel, and you couldn’t even be kind to me. If you don’t like me, fine! But at least treat me like a human being!”

Jeonghan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Forget it,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. She turned and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

————————————————————————————-

The night was quiet, but Jeonghan couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as her words replayed in his head.

You don’t get to do this.

Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?

If you don’t like me, fine!

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t let her believe that. He couldn’t let her go to sleep thinking she wasn’t loved because she was. More than anything.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he left his room and walked to hers.

He hesitated at the door, hearing her muffled sobs. His heart shattered.

Knock. Knock.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “It’s me.”

There was no response.

“Please,” he whispered. “Let me in.”

After a long pause, the door opened.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I need to explain,” he said. “Please.”

She stepped aside, and he walked in, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t hate you,” Jeonghan finally said. “I never have.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “Then why?”

“Because I was scared.” His voice was raw. “The management they told me that if we got involved, they’d kick you out of the group. And I couldn’t risk that. Not for me, and not for you.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “So instead, you decided to treat me like I didn’t matter?”

“I thought it would be easier,” he admitted. “I thought pushing you away would protect both of us. But all I’ve done is hurt you—and I hate myself for it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said softly. “I always have.”

Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and kissed him.

Jeonghan froze, shocked, but when she pulled away, embarrassed, he caught her hand.

“Wait.”

He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, pouring everything he felt into that one moment.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “Together.”

Tears streamed down her face, but this time, they were happy tears.

“Okay,” she whispered.

————————————————————————————-

Y/N sat nervously in the practice room, her hands clenched into fists as she faced Seungcheol. He looked at her like she had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“You want to what?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, but there was also concern in his eyes.

“I want to leave the group,” Y/N repeated, this time louder. Her voice still shook, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

“For Jeonghan and me to be together,” she said softly, looking down.

Seungcheol froze. “…What?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her chest tighten. “The management said if we get into a relationship, I’ll be kicked out of the group. Not him. Me.”

Seungcheol stared at her, completely silent for a moment. Then he burst out, “And you just accepted that?!”

“What else am I supposed to do, Seungcheol?” she snapped, her voice breaking. “Let them ruin his career? Let them destroy everything he’s worked for? I can’t do that to him!”

“And you think he’d be okay with you giving up your career instead?” he shot back. “Do you think Jeonghan would ever forgive himself if you left because of him?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not leaving. We’re going to fix this.”

“How?”

“Simple,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re going to the management, and we’re going to make it clear that this isn’t happening. You’re staying in Seventeen.”

———————————————————————————-

Y/N sat beside Seungcheol in the cold, sterile meeting room. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded so loudly she was sure the managers could hear it.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” he said as soon as the managers sat down. “We need to talk about Y/N.”

One of the managers raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“This rule you’ve made,” Seungcheol said, his voice sharp. “The one where you’ll kick her out of the group if she dates Jeonghan. It’s ridiculous, and it’s not happening.”

The managers exchanged glances. “We’ve already discussed this with her.”

“And now you’re going to discuss it with me,” Seungcheol shot back. “You don’t get to ruin someone’s career because they fell in love.”

“This isn’t about punishment,” one manager said stiffly. “It’s about protecting the group’s reputation.”

“Reputation?” Seungcheol laughed bitterly. “What reputation? SEVENTEEN’s reputation isn’t built on scandals or dating bans. It’s built on talent, hard work, and loyalty. And you want to throw all of that away by forcing Y/N out?”

Another manager leaned forward. “This is standard in the industry—”

“I don’t care what’s standard,” Seungcheol interrupted. “This group isn’t like the others, and you know that. We’re a family. And you’re asking us to tear apart our family over something as human as love.”

“It’s a risk,” the manager argued.

“So what?” Seungcheol said, his voice rising. “Everything we do is a risk! Going on stage is a risk! Performing live is a risk! But we still do it because we believe in each other. And if you don’t believe in us if you don’t believe in Y/N and Jeonghan then maybe you’re the problem, not them.”

The room went silent.

Finally, one of the managers spoke, their tone colder than before. “If this relationship gets out to the public, there will be consequences. For both of them.”

Seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “Then we’ll handle it. But you’re not forcing her out of this group.”

The managers exchanged looks, clearly unhappy, but after a long pause, one of them sighed. “Fine. But it stays private. And if it ever becomes public, you all know what’s at stake.”

———————————————————————————-

Meanwhile—Dance Practice Room

Jeonghan wiped sweat from his forehead, looking around the room. Something felt… off.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, glancing at the others.

Joshua hesitated, then pulled him aside. “She’s with Seungcheol. At the company office.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Why?”

Joshua bit his lip. “…She’s asking to leave the group.”

Jeonghan froze. “What?”

“She said it’s because of you,” Joshua admitted softly. “Because of what the management said about you two.”

Jeonghan didn’t wait to hear more. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the practice room.

———————————————————————————-

Y/N and Seungcheol stepped out of the management’s office, the tension from their earlier discussion still lingering in the air. Y/N’s heart pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. It was from relief.

It was over.

She could stay. She didn’t have to leave Seventeen. She and Jeonghan could be together as long as they kept it private.

But before she could fully process everything, Jeonghan’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Y/N!”

She froze, her eyes widening as she turned to see him storming toward her.

His face was filled with panic and anger, and the moment he reached her, his voice was sharp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Jeonghan—”

“You can’t leave the group!” he interrupted, his voice trembling. “Not because of me!”

Seungcheol raised his hands, trying to calm the situation. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he said, stepping back. He shot Y/N a reassuring look before walking away.

As soon as Seungcheol disappeared down the hall, Jeonghan turned back to Y/N, his eyes desperate.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why would you do this? Why would you throw away everything we’ve worked for?”

Y/N’s heart ached seeing the pain in his eyes. She reached out, but he stepped back, his fists clenched.

“Jeonghan, stop,” she said softly. “Listen to me.”

“How can I listen to you when you’re trying to leave?” His voice cracked, and for the first time, she saw the fear in his expression.

“I’m not leaving,” Y/N said quickly, grabbing his hands before he could pull away. “I’m staying.”

He froze. “What?”

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “Seungcheol and I talked to the management. We convinced them to let me stay. We can be together, but it has to be private.”

Jeonghan stared at her, completely stunned. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed over his face, but it was quickly replaced by frustration. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought this was the only way to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Jeonghan stepped closer, his voice softer now. “Y/N, do you really think I’d be okay with you giving up your dream for me? Do you know how much that would’ve destroyed me?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jeonghan reached out, gently cupping her face. “We’ll figure things out together. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore, okay?”

Y/N nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything. For how I treated you before. For making you feel like you weren’t important to me.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain again. I know why you did it.”

“But I shouldn’t have,” Jeonghan said firmly. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve fought for us from the start.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Jeonghan didn’t let her.

Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

“You’re not leaving me,” he whispered. “Not now. Not ever.”

Y/N melted into his embrace, finally allowing herself to breathe.

“Never,” she whispered back.

————————————————————————————

The group had gathered back at the cabin after practice. Y/N and Jeonghan sat together in the corner, their hands intertwined under the table where no one could see.

Seungcheol watched them from across the room and smiled to himself.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jeonghan said quietly when he caught Seungcheol’s gaze.

Seungcheol just shrugged. “You owe me.”

Jeonghan grinned. “I know.”

Y/N squeezed Jeonghan’s hand, and he turned to her, his expression softening.

They still had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time, they felt ready to face it. Together.

[redvexillum]

Dedicated to my fluff-loving friend, Ms. 🍑. I'm getting whiplash. The last four days were probably the darkest and smuttiest writing I've done - and today, it's ...fluff to the max. I stuffed all the fluff in my mouth. I want this story to be so fluffy that I become fluffy.

 A smile was said to be worth a thousand words, a silent language that could light up the room, soothe others, or even hide the darkest of truths.  

But what did it mean if you couldn’t smile? If every time you tried, your lips refused to cooperate, did that make you worthless? 

All your life, people said the same thing: “Just smile, honey.” And when you didn’t, they assumed you were upset, angry, or just a frigid bitch. 

But that wasn’t it. It was never that simple. You weren't upset, at least not in the way they thought.  

So, you started practising, standing in front of the mirror day by day, willing yourself to smile. You’d stretch your lips upwards, trying to mould them into something that looked natural. But the face that stared back at you was wrong.  

It didn’t look like you.  

The curve of your lips felt forced, your eyes not lighting up the way they were supposed to. The reflection almost mocked you with its emptiness, the smile looking more like a grimace, a mask of something false.   

And you hated it.  

You hated how fake it felt, how alien it looked. It didn’t bring you any joy, just a hollow, bitter taste.  

If a smile was truly worth a thousand words, then maybe yours was worth nothing at all. 

Alastor had spent months trying to coax a smile out of you. When you first arrived at the hotel, your lips were a perfect, unyielding line, your eyes flat and devoid of any spark. At first, he paid you no mind. The hotel was bustling, full of fresh souls seeking redemption, and he had no shortage of entertainment.  

The “Princess’ Redemption Program,” as much as it irked him, was thriving. There were countless other residents, and yet...you stood out, your lack of expression gnawing at him more than he’d care to admit.  

He didn’t like you – not at first. While others laughed and grinned, you remained stone-faced, and it irritated him. You befriended everyone in the hotel, navigating its chaos with grace, but never once did your lips so much as twitch into a smile. And that irked him more. 

Eventually, something in him shifted. Perhaps it was the challenge you presented, or maybe he had eternity to burn. Either way, he decided he was going to make you smile. Once, just once, and then he’d be on his merry way.  

So, he tried everything. At first, you merely raised an eyebrow, curious but silent as he suddenly began spending more time with you. Yet, you never complained. Instead, you listened, offering no reaction other than attentive silence.  

He’d tell jokes, ones that normally left him in stitches, but you’d sit there, unblinking, lips still pressed into that same stubborn line.  

Then, he tried pranks. He’d tap your shoulder and watch you startle when he appeared behind you, his laughter echoing down the halls. Every time, the same trick, the same reaction – but never a smile. Only a flicker of surprise before you carried on, as if nothing��had happened.  

“Knock, knock!” He said one day, his voice lifting to its usual jovial pitch, eyes gleaming with mischief.  

You tilted your head, blinking innocently at him. “Who’s there?” 

“Boo,” he said, leaning closer, the tension in the air thickening with his creeping grin.  

“Boo, who?” 

His neck tilted, cracking unnaturally to the side as his microphone staff crackled with a sharp burst of static. “Oh, don’t cry now, dear! You’ll really have something to weep about once the fun begins!” His smile stretched wide, cutting into his cheeks as the ominous word settled into the space between you.  

But you stared back, unfazed. “That joke is pretty on-brand with you,” you said in the same soft monotone, nodding slightly before continuing on your way as if nothing had happened.  

Alastor’s left eye twitched as he watched you walk away, completely unfazed. He had told you674 jokes. Six hundred and seventy-four. And not once had you cracked a smile. It couldn’t be that his jokes weren’t funny – that would be an outrageous, preposterous impossibility! 

No, it had to be you.  

No matter how many jokes fell flat, Alastor wasn’t deterred. When punchlines didn’t work, he decided to escalate – physical humour.  

One afternoon, while you were quietly reading in the hotel library, he summoned a shadow tendril with the flick of his hand. It slithered across the floor silently until it reached your side, then gently wiggled under your arm.  

A soft, startled yelp escaped you, a sound so unexpectedly cute that it nearly startled him. You looked down at the mischievous tendril, now waving back at you in playfulness. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment creeping up your neck as your eyes flicked toward Alastor, trying to understand what just happened.  

And Alastor? He blinked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he realized something new about himself. There was something oddly...endearing about the sound you made. It reminded him of a small, startled puppy, and he couldn’t help but want to hear it again.  

But why? 

Why did he suddenly crave that pathetic little noise? He almost wanted to scold himself for it, but the curiosity was far stronger.  

A booming laugh erupted from him instead, loud and dramatic as always, masking the strange and unfamiliar sensation bubbling in his chest. His heart – what was left of it – beat harder, faster. Palpitations? After death? How bizarre.

Over time, however, things changed in subtle ways. He noticed how easily you fit into his life, sliding into his routine with an almost unnerving grace. Somehow, without ever asking, you convinced him to join you for breakfast each morning. While you quietly nibbled on toast with jam or a simple egg, Alastor would indulge in more ...exotic fare – perhaps a raw deer carcass or the seared flesh of a particularly deserving sinner. Yet, your expression never wavered. No grimace. No disgust.  

There was something oddly comforting about your presence at the breakfast table, the quiet companionship as the two of you sat together. Alastor hadn’t realized how much he missed that – true companionship – since arriving in Hell. Surrounded by chaos and destruction, he hadn’t noticed the absence of something so simple, so human.  

He didn’t mind the morning with you. In fact, he began to look forward to them.  

Days blurred into weeks, and then months. Despite the time you spent together, Alastor had still never seen you smile. Occasionally, he thought he caught the faintest hint of something – a softening in your eyes, perhaps, when you glanced his way – but it never quite reached your lips. At this point, he figured he was smiling enough for both of you.  

Then, something strange happened. He stopped obsessing over making you smile. Somewhere along the line, it ceased being a game or a challenge. He just...stopped. And as for what he was doing with you now? He wasn’t entirely sure.  

He found himself becoming more involved in your daily life, his presence intertwining with your routine. He shared more meals with you. He strolled beside you through town, spinning tales of his past, both in life and in Hell, as you listened with quiet, patient attention.  

And now, here he was, sitting next to you in the library, the two of you reading in comfortable silence, side by side.  

Your arms barely touched, but when you turned a page and the lightest brush of your arm grazed his, Alastor found himself leaning ever so slightly toward you. The movement was so subtle, so imperceptible, that even he wasn’t sure why he did it.  

But he didn’t pull away.  

“ROOOWRRR!” A ghastly yowl echoed through the halls, followed by a chorus of scream – most notably, Charlie’s. Her frantic voice rang out, sharp and panicked.  

“ALASTOR!” Charlie’s scream tore down the hall, urgent and distressed.  

You jolted in place as you instinctively turned to Alastor. Confusion and a flicker of fear danced across your face. Without thinking, Alastor’s hand reached out, patting your arm in what should have been a casual gesture.  

Yet, it felt different – this was the first time he’d touched you in an attempt to comfort. His eyes flickered down to where his hand rested against your skin, realizing the weight of the act. Suddenly, he pulled back as if he had been burned, his fingers tingling from the contact.  

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, trying to cover his uncharacteristic slip with a wide, winning smile. “Ah, it’s nothing to worry your silly head about, darling! Just...that thing again. Visits every three years, though it’s a bit early this time,” he said, his tone light as he brushed imaginary lint off his sleeves, his movements slow and deliberate.  

“That...thing?” You tilted your head, your wide eyes full of innocent curiosity and a touch of lingering uncertainty. Your shoulders hunched in slightly, unconsciously trying to make yourself smaller, to shrink away from whatever chaos awaited in the lobby.  

Alastor’s gaze softened, and an unfamiliar urge tugged at him. He wanted to rub your back in reassurance, to ease the tension in your frame. He had hugged Rosie, hugged Mimzy – so surely, hugging you wouldn’t be any different.  

Yet as his eyes traced the delicate line of your figure, he froze. His heart thudded in his chest, the heat crawling up from his core to his cheeks, unbidden and unfamiliar. The feeling, strange and sudden, made his left eye twitch.Heartburn? Now, of all times?

“It’s nothing, darling,” Alastor assured, folding his hands neatly behind his back, masking the odd sensation that threatened to rise. “You might as well come and see for yourself – it's quite the hideous little thing,” he added with a smirk, trying to inject a bit of humour.  

Curiosity lit up your face, your lips parting in a soft gasp, eyes gleaming. “A hideous little thing?” you asked, your voice gentle as you picked up your pace to walk beside him.  

He couldn’t help but notice that each of his strides required you to take two steps to keep up. Without much of a thought, he slowed his pace until you matched him easily. “Yes, hideous and annoying. I’ve repeatedly told everyone not to feed it, yet here we are,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing in mild distaste as you approached the source of the chaos.  

When you reached the lobby, your eyes widened in pure awe. There, bouncing off the walls with a guttural yowl, was a red-furred four-legged creature the size of a cat. Its eyes were comically pointed outward, each one staring in opposite directions, and the tufts of black tipped fur on its ears bore an uncanny resemblance to Alastor’s own. To top it off, the creature sported a monocle on its left eye – just like Alastor’s.  

“Alastor!” Vaggie’s voice cut through the air as she stood in the centre of the room, sweating and pointing an accusatory finger at the beast. “Deal with Catastor!” 

Your eyes darted to Alastor. “Catastor?” you repeated, the name settling on your lips as you tried to suppress the amusement creeping into your voice.  

Alastor sighed, his grin never faltering. “Yes, Catastor. Don’t ask,” he muttered, casting the creature a look of pure disdain. He turned his attention to Vaggie, his grin tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I’ve told you many times, that thing looks nothing like me,” he spat, thrusting the head of his staff toward the red-furred creature now lazily stretching its body and wiggling around the room, seemingly oblivious to the chaos it had caused.  

“Really?” you mused, stepping forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “It does look a bit like you,” you teased, inching closer to the bizarre creature.  

Alastor’s gaze darted to you, and his voice lowered, an edge of warning in his tone. “Careful, darling. That thing has a taste for sinners,” he muttered, grimacing. “Considering, it always manages to sneak into my stockpile of them.” 

The beast, as if sensing the conversation was about it, suddenly lunged in your direction. Alastor’s eyes widened in horror. His heart leapt into his throat as he instinctively reached out, but before he could summon even a flicker of his power to protect you, you had already acted.  

With surprising grace, your hands slid under the creature’s armpits, effortlessly catching it mid-lunge. You cradled it as though it were nothing more than a stray kitten. “Hello again,” you cooed softly, your voice calm, eyes brightening with a gentle warmth as you tilted your head in amusement. 

The room was a mess – the lights still swayed from the beast’s earlier rampage, and a bit of the floorboard lay shattered and torn across the space. Everyone’s hair was in disarray, save for Alastor and you.  

Offering an apologetic smile, you looked around. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, glancing at the others. “I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to feed him.” 

Alastor blinked, too stunned to respond. You held the creature against your chest, your fingers tenderly petting its head, and to his utter disbelief, the beast – this monstrous, chaotic thing – melted in your hands. Its lower half sagged like goo, limp and boneless, as you held it up by its torso.  

A burst of laughter slipped from your lips, light and full of joy. “Silly boy,” you murmured, playfully bopping the creature’s nose. Then, you looked up at Alastor, your eyes curved in a gentle, delighted line, and your smile – radiant and bright – struck him like a punch to the gut. “I promise I’ll take care of him properly, so he doesn’t cause any more trouble. Could he stay?” 

“Absolutely-” Alastor began, his voice rising in protest, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze was glued to your lips, curved in that dazzling smile. He hadn’t even noticed the creature snuggling closer to your chest, its purrs filling the air like a mocking reminder of its victory. That hideous, absurd thing had succeeded where he had failed for months.  

Before he could fully voice his objection, Angel Dust’s voice broke through the moment. “Wait - you’ve been feeding it?” Angel coughed, climbing out from beneath the rubble, dusting himself off. “And that thing didn’t try to eat you?” 

Vaggie, eyes narrowed, stomped her foot in frustration. “How do you know it tries to eat people, Angel? Did you feed it too?” 

Angel shrugged, glancing at her sheepishly. “Maybe...” 

Alastor’s eye twitched, irritation surging through him. Months – months of trying to get you to smile, and now, here you were, beaming because of that disgusting creature. He clenched his jaw, attempting to suppress the growing wave of annoyance.  

Vaggie shot a glare toward Charlie, groaning in exasperation. “No...don’t tell me. Have all of you been feeding Catastor after Alastor explicitly told us not to?” 

Alastor gritted his teeth, the growing resentment gnawing at him. The fact that the creature’s name had been twisted to mimic his own was an insult he could barely stand. He opened his mouth, ready to snap with a biting retort, but before he could, you stepped in front of him.  

The beast had fully stretched, wrapping its long, serpentine torso around your neck like a scarf, purring contentedly as it nuzzled into you. Alastor’s eyes flickered between the creature and your smiling face, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to shift.  

That smile – your smile – he'd been chasing it for so long. And now that it was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with the flutter of emotions tangled up inside him.  

“Alastor, if he causes any trouble, I’ll-” you faltered, eyes scanning the floor, searching for words before meeting his gaze. “I’ll deal with the consequences. So, c-could you give him a chance? I promise I’ll take good care of him, we-we'll stay out of trouble!” Your voice wavered, eyes pleading, as your once hopeful smile slowly began to shrink.  

Alastor’s eyes flicked to the red-furred beast lounging lazily around your neck. The creature had been nothing but a nuisance, sneaking into his stock of food and leaving foul messes all over his bayou. The obvious answer was no. It was so clear in his mind – he could already see himself punting the cat-like creature far across the pentagram, dusting his hands of the whole ordeal.  

But as your smile withered, and your eyes searched his, slowly realizing the inevitable refusal, something tugged at his chest. That sinking look in your eyes...it ate away at him.  

The obvious answer was no.  

But instead... 

“I swear,” he began, his tone sharp, deliberate. “If that thing causes any hint of trouble in my room, particularly, I’m going to eat that cat.” He enunciated each word, his grin widening as he flashed his sharp teeth, shooting a glare at the foul creature. In response, the creature mockingly stuck its tongue out at him, which only further soured his mood.  

What surprised him was how your face lit up – how your eyes widened, shimmering with joy, and how your once solemn expression now blossomed into something so bright it seemed to light up the entire room. You grabbed his hands in your excitement, shaking them up and down with a bubbling laughter that filled the air like music.  

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed, laughter spilling from your lips like sunshine.  

Alastor stood frozen, utterly stunned. He stared at you, his grinning mask forced on as he took in the sight of your laughter, the warmth of your smile. It was as if something inside him had cracked open – he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to see you like this, to hear that laughter, to witness the unfiltered joy in your face.  

His heart pounded against his rib cage, thrumming in his ears like a chaotic rhythm, and for a moment, he was paralyzed by the strange, unfamiliar sensation washing over him.  

How had you managed to convince him to take care of that beast? That thing would undoubtedly invade every corner of your life... and, by extension, his.  

He couldn’t understand it.  

Was he ill? Dying? 

But then you called his name, your voice soft, sweet, still laced with that bright smile that now adorned your face as if it always belonged there. And in that instant, he knew. With dawning horror, he realized what was happening.  

His tongue felt heavy, his chest unbearably tight, and his left eye twitched erratically. He took a giant step backward, trying to ground himself, then another, and another, until he melted into the shadows, disappearing without a word.  

Alastor realized, with a deep, unsettling dread, that he fancied you.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[inmyheaddd]

✦ love story, (scribbled version) - percy jackson x reader

summary: percy’s handwriting is more difficult to decipher than ancient greek code - but with the sleepy sea eyed boy laying next to you, you end up asking him to translate almost every word in his blue birthday letter. warnings: nothing really, mentions of kissing, v fluffy and silly overall wc: 700

you sat on your bed, still in the outfit from your birthday party, a small plastic tiara your friend gave you perched on your head. percy was lying next to you, sprawled out across your pillows, one arm slung over his eyes.

he looked half-asleep already, his hair a little messy from the day’s chaos, and from you constantly running your fingers through it when you would kiss.

you glanced down at the letter in your hands, biting back a smile. it was his birthday letter to you—sweet, definitely, but completely illegible.

"perce?" you asked, your voice quiet, tapping his shoulder.

he groaned softly, shifting but not removing the arm over his face. “hmm?”

"what does this word say?" you asked, tilting the letter towards him so he could see it.

he peeked out from behind his arm, blinking lazily. “uh… ‘best.’”

you raised an eyebrow. "you sure about that? ‘cause it kinda looks like ‘beast.’"

“well, it’s not,” he mumbled, pulling his arm back over his eyes. “you’re the best.”

“aw,” you fake cooed at him, and you could practically hear the eye roll he would do to hide his flush. “thanks.” you smiled, trying to keep reading, but almost immediately got stuck again.

“…okay, wait. what about this one?”

he sighed, rolling onto his side to face you, his hair falling into his eyes. “it says ‘beautiful.’”

"oh," you said, glancing back at the letter. "right. obviously." you nodded, the scribbled mix of print and cursive still looked like a mystery to you, but you didn’t want to bug him too much.

you tried to keep reading, but less than two sentences later, you hit another roadblock. “percy…”

this time, he didn’t even open his eyes. “seriously?”

you held the letter infront of his face, pointing to something that looked like ‘federal’.

“what does this one say say?”

he cracked a single eye open, looking embarrassed now. “uh... ‘forever.’ it says ‘forever.’”  

his face was flushing slightly, his usual confidence diminishing as he realized just how many times you had to ask.

as he lay back with both his arms over his eyes, you continued reading.

okay, now you were going on a streak. that was two whole sentences you understood without having to ask percy! 

“okay, i’m sorry, but—”

“again?” percy groaned as he sat up, rubbing his face with his cheeks going pink. “how bad is it?”

he glanced at your face, glanced at the scribble on blue paper, and then sighed. “that says ‘cute.’” he said, “i was calling you cute.” 

he let himself fall back on the bed with a huff, propping himself up with one elbow and resting his head on one hand as he looked at you.

you held back a laugh, placing the letter down in your lap. “perce, you know i love you so much, right?”

“…yeah?” his voice was cautious, clearly not trusting where this was going.

“and you know that even though you may be…” you trailed off, “less academically inclined than others, i still love you more than anything?”

he groaned once again, rolling onto his back and covering his face with both hands now. “okay, that’s not a compliment.” he said, “and does not make me feel better in the slightest.” 

you laughed, sitting back against the pillows. “no, i promise, it’s cute!” you doubt calling it cute helped, but you said it anyway. 

“i’m just saying, next time you could, i don’t know, type it? maybe make it a little easier on the birthday girl?”

he dragged his hands down his face, peeking at you from beneath them. “you’re killing me,” he muttered, though there was a smile tugging at his lips. “i’m never writing you a letter again.”

you grinned, adjusting the little crown on your head. “oh, come on. don’t be like that,” you teased, “it’s sweet. messy, but sweet.”

“yeah, well, now i feel like an idiot,” he said, cheeks pink as he sat up a little.

you leaned over, pressing a kiss to his temple. “you’re not an idiot, percy. seriously.” you said, and you weren’t lying. he was way smarter than what people gave him credit for.

“it’s the thought that counts. but maybe... practice your handwriting?”

he hummed a groan again, this time pulling you down onto the bed with him. “on your next birthday, my handwriting will look like times new roman. just you wait.” 

“i’m holding you to that.” you teased, resting your head on his chest as you got comfortable. 

he reached over and took off your tiara, placing it carefully somewhere on the bed side table before running his fingers through your hair lazily. 

he then picked up the letter off the bed, having a read of it himself. you couldn’t see, but he was struggling to read it even more than you were with his brows knitted together to the extreme.

he tsked in frutstation when he couldn’t get past the 2nd paragraph, shaking his head as he put the blue card on the bedside table, alongside the tiara.

“less academically inclined, huh?” he mumbled, running his fingers through your hair again. “is that what you said?” 

you giggled, already feeling tiredness wash over you, tilting your head to look up at him. “yep.”

he attempted a half-hearted glare, but his grin broke through far too quick as he looked at you, “alright, yeah, i can’t even argue with that.”

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather

[seresinhangmanjake]

Come Back Together

Benny Cross x reader 

Summary in bullet points:

Now that Benny is back in your life, he is trying to be a better husband

Benny is insecure about his relationship and a barfight ensues

Reader is pregnant (three months)

Benny does a bit of pining and is emotionally vulnerable

Fluffiness 

Part 2 of Come Back Knockin’

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, angst and fluff, relationship struggles, physical altercations (fist fight), mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy, mention of alcohol, cursing, kissing, happy stuff, typos. I think that’s it. This took me forever to write for some reason and I was weirdly stressed about it. tf is wrong with me, right? Anyway…

Words: alright no one freak out…it’s 4300. Idk why it’s a lot longer than the first part but I always do that. If you’re willing to venture onward, I appreciate it :)

Benny Cross Masterlist

Part 3: Together and More

He stares at you incessantly. Which isn’t out of the ordinary—he used to stare at you all the time—but there’s something else to it now. He stares as if he thinks you’ll disappear the second he takes his eyes off of you. Like you'll slip through his fingers. Ironic, really, since disappearing in the blink of an eye is more his thing. 

“Can I make you something?” he asks, staring at you from his chair while you pull a carton of eggs from the fridge. “You should be sitting instead of me.”

“You don’t know how to cook, Benny,” you state matter-of-factly, turning your back to him as you switch on the stove and set a pan on the lit burner.

Cooking has always been your responsibility. It was one of the things you brought to this relationship. And you liked being the one to keep Benny fed, never chiming in when the other Vandals’ wives and girlfriends mentioned how exhausting it was to satisfy their man’s grumbling stomach. You liked that Benny appreciated you for it. 

Now you wonder if subconsciously you believed that as long as you fed him, he’d stay by your side, regardless of his wild nature. Kind of like a puppy. But Benny Cross is no puppy.

“I should probably learn,” he says. “You know, for the kid.”

You hum, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan. “Maybe you should stick to learning how not to ditch your family,” you retort, and immediately your features twist in a wince.

You can’t believe you let those words out of your mouth. You’d been doing so well at holding in the little jabs and remarks, no matter how hard they’ve pushed at your sealed lips. Not to say a few of them haven’t slipped through in the last month, they have, but each time they did, you received instant punishment in the form of Benny’s heart crumbling right before your eyes.

He’s never tried to make you feel guilty about your slip-ups, but he can’t seem to hide his expressions around you anymore. Ever since Benny returned, he’s been different. Your husband who was once so stoic has untethered his emotions from the piece inside of him that, for years, refused to let them show. His affection is more outward now, but unfortunately, so is his pain. So you made a rule to stop doing that to him; stop catching him off guard with words of hurt during a time of pending forgiveness. What he did was damaging, yes, but it’s unfair to pick at him when he’s been doing everything he can to show you he has value to this family; things he never would have done before. 

He wakes earlier than you to clean the most-used areas of the house—a poorly done job; you still find dust in spaces dust should have easily been wiped up, but he tries. He found work at a mechanic’s shop not too far from the house, and surprisingly, he has yet to complain about it—a decent job was always something he physically and mentally shunned. He got rid of everything in the spare room and has begun painting the walls from the deep brown left over from the prior owners to a soft, light green that matches the baby blanket he brought you. It’s cute, and significantly better than you would have done without him. You would’ve been too stressed to put together a nice nursery.

Benny awkwardly clears his throat, breaking up your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. The lingering discomfort from your snide tone is palpable, heavy, just short of physically formed, and you can’t escape it. 

“I didn’t mean that,” you tell him as you flip the egg. 

The sizzle in the pan is louder as uncooked egg hits the heat, but you can still hear his deep breath, easily picturing the weak smile on his face when he softly says, “It’s ok. I deserve it.”

You’re about to protest, but he doesn’t give you the chance. 

“I was thinkin’ about goin’ to a meeting tonight,” Benny says. “You wanna come with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Oh…” he says, dejected. “It's been a while since you've been to one. I know you stopped goin’ when I was…away, so I thought…”

You set the spatula down and turn to face him, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t going to go without you. And considering everything, everyone just would have pitied me. I'm sure they still do.”

His blue eyes fall to the tiled floor. You know he hates that such a thought would enter your mind, but it’s not as if you’re capable of stopping it. He put you in a pitiful situation, and were the circumstances placed upon another woman, you would have felt those same feelings for her. 

“No one pities you, baby. I promise,” he says. “They miss you.” His head lifts so he can meet your stare. “But if you don’t want to go then I'll stay here with you. We can watch a movie or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen. “No!” you yelp. Benny’s head jerks back at the sudden outburst and you swallow to buy yourself time to sort your thoughts into words, but the best you come up with is: “You’re right, actually. We should go.”

“But you just–” His brow raises in skepticism. “Are you sure?”

If your options are club meeting surrounded by a large group of people or movie-watching with you and Benny alone, then yes, you are absolutely sure. The movie channels have rallied against you lately. Out of the five times you and Benny have watched a film since he came back, all five have been romances. All of them!

You don’t know if he scours the TV Guide without you noticing or if the television channels have simply rallied against you, but sitting beside your husband who you are trying not to give in to is made all the more difficult when watching Audrey Hepburn fall in love with George Peppard or Cary Grant or Greggory Peck for God's sake. You see them and it makes you forget things. You forget that you’re as upset as you are, and with Benny so close, your heart starts to pound and you can’t focus on anything else. You want to crawl right into his arms, let him hold you and kiss you and take you on the couch after what has felt like an eternity apart. But you can’t do that. It’s too soon. So no movies. 

“Positive,” you nod. 

An easy smile slides onto his face. “Well that’s great, baby. It'll be fun.”

“Yea. Sure.”

“Alright,” he says, standing. “I gotta get to the shop.”

He pauses as he passes by you, and you hold his gaze as he squashes the instinct to press his lips to your forehead. 

You weren’t married to Benny for long before he panicked and left—only a handful of months—but it was long enough for the two of you to develop your own set of rituals. And by the consistency and ease with which Benny performed those rituals, anyone would have assumed they’d been in place for decades. 

A kiss on the forehead after breakfast was one ritual. As was the bedtime cuddling with your leg slotted between his. And the way he’d stare at you in the mirror, his arms crossed and body leaning against the doorframe as he watched you brush your teeth with a grin on his face. 

But the one you miss the most is the hug from behind that you'd receive once he’d decided to come home for the night. He’d circle his arms around your waist and place a kiss on your neck, and then he’d chuckle because he was so determined to sneak up on you and give you a little scare but was never successful. You could feel him before he touched you, you could smell his cologne, but you didn’t want to ruin his fun, so you let him have hope that one day he would finally surprise you. 

Benny blows out a long breath through his nose. “I’ll see you tonight,” he mutters with a brief hint of a smile.

As the front door closes behind him, a carbon smell grabs your attention and you look over your shoulder at your breakfast. It’s charred, inedible, and you don’t even care, you just knock the pan off to the side to keep the house from burning down.

—

“Well, thank the lord,” Betty’s voice travels across the bar as she and Kathy approach you and Benny. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again, honey.”

Kathy draws you into a tight hug that rips you from Benny’s side. “Things have not been the same with you gone,” she says as she leans back, rubbing her hands up and down your arms. She smiles so sweetly and you breathe a sigh of relief. These women were your friends and you feel guilty for abandoning them just because Benny abandoned you. “Come sit.”

“Benny Cross, we are stealin’ your wife,” Betty declares, “And you don't get to whine about it.” There’s a dash of vitriol in her tone that nibbles at your gut and you hope it’s simply an effect of the alcohol she must’ve had prior to your arrival. 

“Oh,” Benny says. You glance at him, at the disappointed look on his face—subtle, but there. He wanted you by his side tonight, but he’s not going to force you to deny their offer. “Ok.”

Kathy and Betty each take one of your hands and lead you to a small rounded table. It’s the centerpiece of the room, and as one of three surrounding it, so are you, unfortunately. As Betty sticks a cigarette in her mouth and Kathy takes a sip of her beer, your eyes scan the low-lit space. 

Stares from the men lining the walls burn your cheeks. You recognize only half of them—the Vets, as they’re known—and they give you their smiles and nods in a ‘welcome back’ gesture, Johnny, in particular, sporting a rare grin.

The others—the Newcomers; out-of-towners who came specifically to join the club—look at you with something else in their eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? They seem to know exactly who you are and enjoy a little too much putting a face to the name. You, however, don’t know a single one of them. They’d arrived shortly before Benny left, and while some faces, those with distinct features, you can recall from nuggets of your memory, you’ve never spoken to them. You never got their names. 

“Why this table?” you ask your friends.

“Best view of the pool table, obviously,” Betty chuckles after snapping Johnny’s lighter shut. She nudges her head in that direction. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’, I say.”

Flanking the table are Cal, Wahoo, and Benny; Wahoo watching and chattering from the sidelines as Cal and Benny alternate between shots.

Benny edges from one side of the table to the other, sizing up his options. Then, cue in hand, cigarette dangling from his lips, he bends at the waist and lines up the shot. 

He’s so stupidly beautiful. The lamp hanging above the table illuminates him, defining his muscles by highlighting the hills and casting the valleys into shadow. A haze of smoke coats your view, but his pure essence and magnetism break through it like rays of sun through parted clouds. 

Benny’s eyes flick up to yours and he winks as he shoots, driving two balls directly into their nets. 

Your mouth goes dry. You swallow sandpaper, leaving your throat all raw and scratchy.

“So, how’ve you been, honey?” Betty asks, and you turn your head. “How've you been feelin’? How’s that nausea?”

“Yea,” Kathy adds, leaning in close as if seeking out a secret, “and how’s it been goin’ with him? Any trouble?”

“Um, I'm fine,” you say, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Nausea’s manageable. 

As far as Benny goes, there's no trouble,” you tell them, “It’s just–” You pause. 

What can you say? That you haven’t fully forgiven him even though he’s working so hard to be a good husband? That some of the things he’s doing around the house are swoon-worthy compared to what most men you know would do but you’re too stubborn to express the depth of your appreciation? Any woman would look at you like you’re insane. 

When you think about it like that, maybe you are insane. 

“I don't know,” you say with a shrug and a shake of your head. “It's hard to explain.”

“Well, according to Johnny, Benny’s worried each day in the house will be his last,” Betty says, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side. “That boy’s so afraid he’s gonna mess up and let you down again that I'm surprised he hasn't lost his marbles. I read in Life that bein’ that anxious wreaks havoc on the body and mind.”

Betty’s always reading something in Life, and a good portion of the time you are hesitant to take her seriously. Not necessarily because you don’t trust what the magazine reports, but that Betty tends to exaggerate for kicks. 

You have a feeling she’s not exaggerating this time.

Your face falls. 

“Don’t you feel bad about it for one second,” Kathy scolds, placing her hand on top of yours. “You’re well within your rights to make him earn his place.”

“I know, but I don’t want him to be scared that I'm going to–”

You’re cut off by a male voice slipping through a brief lull in the cacophony of noise.

“If she don’t want Benny no more, she can bring her sweet ass right on over to me,” a Newcomer says in a slurring mess. “I’d sure take better care of her than he did.”

Every soul in the room falls deadly silent—the only remaining sound being the melody of Elvis's Baby Let's Play House from the jukebox—and the world around you freezes.

Cigarettes are held over ashtrays, their ashes yet to be knocked off. Beer bottles are raised to lips without the satisfaction of a sip. The bartender’s rag has only wiped up half of a drunken man’s spill. No one is breathing and everyone’s eyes are glued to either the Newcomer or your husband. Yours are on Newcomer, watching his features shift and tick as he soaks in the weight of what he just said, and what it’s about to cost him. 

Kathy sighs. “Oh, god.” 

The whole bar hears her—impossible not to; you could hear a mouse skitter across the floor—and her words seem to carry with them the wave of a green flag, because a moment later, Benny rushes the guy and tackles him to the ground. 

Chaos erupts. All at once, shouts, curses, and hateful name-calling explode like the impact of a bomb. Nearly every man in the club is taking sides in the war between Newcomers and Vets. Fists fly into faces. Faces are shoved against walls. Walls are cracked from bodies slamming into them. There’s the distinct sound of bone meeting bone. Blood splatters across your table.

“Jesus, fellas!” Kathy snaps as she and Betty hop up, dragging you out of the danger zone. 

In a panic, your head whips in all directions. You can’t find Benny, but you need to find him and you need to find him now. 

You’ve seen him throw punches at races and members’ houses but this is too public a space, and if the cops are called, he can’t be caught fighting again. Nor can he risk having fingers pointed his way for instigating. He already has a record, and though you didn’t know him during his few stints behind bars, you know he has exhausted the sheriff's leniency. If you leave now, Johnny will come up with something to excise Benny’s participation should questions arise. 

You take a step forward but Kathy’s grip is tight. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” she shouts.

“To get my husband.”

Betty gapes. “Are you crazy? You're pregnant!” But you ignore her, shaking Kathy off and heading into the storm. “Johnny! Johnny, grab her!”

You weave through fight after fight, stopping short when a body lands at your feet, but he’s up and out of your way in an instant, and you continue dodging and ducking until you spot a blond head. From what you can see, there’s hardly a scratch on him. The same cannot be said for the drunk guy beneath him. 

Before you can move another inch, an arm circles your waist and jerks you back. 

“Hey!” you snap. “Let go!”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. You stay out of it,” Johnny says, lifting you off the ground and setting you down in a safer area. He puts his hands on your shoulders and dips his head to your eye level, locking on to your gaze. “I’ll get ‘im, ok? I’ll get ‘im. Stay right here.”

You nod in agreement, your brows knitted and teeth chewing on your bottom lip. 

From this location, you have a better view of your husband and the friend who is trying and failing to break up the fight. Johnny yanking on Benny’s dominant arm is not enough to stop the attacks. Neither is the forearm locked around his neck. 

When Cal notices Johnny’s struggle, he pushes his opponent into a table and races over to take hold of Benny’s other bicep. Together they pull him off the man whose face no longer resembles a human’s. It’s a bloody mess. His nose is dented in, eyes swollen shut, lips split and mouth hanging open to reveal an empty space where a tooth used to be. 

Benny’s chest heaves. Murder is in his glare. He jerks against his restraints but struggles to break free with the force of two men weighing him to the ground. 

Then Johnny mutters something in Benny’s ear that immediately halts his thrashing. His breathing slows. The fire fades from his irises, returning them to their soft cerulean, and his eyes tear away from the beaten man to dart around the room in search of you. 

As Benny spots you, Johnny's lips move, seemingly forming the words ‘Get outta here,’ before he pats Benny on the chest and lets him rise to his feet. 

Benny comes to you and without stopping grasps your hand and leads you out of the bar.

— 

“You think you fractured anything?” You ask as you slide the key into the lock and turn.

Benny stretches and flexes his fingers. “No,” he answers, trailing into the house behind you and shutting the front door. “Are you upset with me?” 

He’s been wanting to ask that question since you left the bar. As he'd placed the helmet on your head and clipped the strap under your chin, you'd observed his lips, how they were parting as if to speak but unable to get anything out. And when he'd helped you off the bike in front of the house, his expression was far away, his jaw shifting, teeth clenching—the look of your husband in intense thought. 

At least he finally spit it out. Normally, he would have run his fingers through his hair and sighed, opting not to bother you with the question; a behavior that used to drive you crazy. It took weeks after you met for you to accept that while Benny was willing to share a lot with you—things he didn’t intend to share with anyone; a life, for instance—there were things best not to pester him into revealing. 

So you’re a patient partner. If it needs to be said or asked, it’ll be said or asked. And you're glad he decided this was one question that needed to be asked.

You sigh, hanging your jacket on the rack, and Benny follows, selecting the hook closest to yours. 

“I mean, you nearly killed him,” you say as you make your way to the back of the living room and open the closet that houses the first aid kit. 

On tippy toes, you can barely brush your fingers along the metal tin, and you grumble each time you unintentionally push it a little further back on the shelf.

A muscled arm reaches above your head to grab the kit. Benny places it in your hands before stepping back into the seating area and dropping down onto the footstool, his standard perch when you’re fixing him up. 

Blue eyes are glued to your body as you take a seat on the couch. 

You pull the lid off of the tin and riffle through it for the small bottle of alcohol—you’ll have to buy more soon, it’s getting low—and a clean rag. With the alcohol-soaked fabric at the ready, you slip your fingers under his warm palm, bring his hand close, and get to work dabbing the wounds and wiping off some of the dried blood. He doesn’t so much as hiss at the shot of pain that makes any other human groan and pinch their eyes tight.

“He was out of line,” he tells you.

“I’m not saying he wasn’t out of line, but I really don't need you getting in trouble and being taken away from me, Benny.” You’re focused on his injury, but out of the corner of your eye, he winces in shame. “Besides, he was just mouthing off.”

“Mouthin’ off about my wife.”

With a huff, you drop your joined hands onto your lap and shoot him a look. “I know, but do you honestly believe what he said could ever happen? Do you think I would leave you for some other man?”

You ask with the full expectation of a whip-quick reply—‘of course not, baby’—but Benny adam’s apple bobs, and his teeth clench as his eyes flit to the undoubtedly less interesting carpet.

“Benny…?”

He runs his uninjured hand down his face and looks up at you. “C'mon, baby, it's not that wild of a thought. Not after what I did to you,” he says, his thumb slowly running over your knuckles. “You are so much better than anything I should be allowed to have. But me? You could throw a rock in any direction and you'd hit a man better than me. One that wouldn’t have panicked and left you pregnant and alone for six weeks.”          

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”   

“It is true.”

“It is not, and even if it was, I don't want another man,” you confess. A beat passes as you exhale heavily to stave off the stinging of oncoming tears. “It hurts that you left, but I am working through it, we are working through it, ok? You’re not going to lose me, Benny Cross. Not unless you leave me.”

“I'm never leavin’ you,” he says. 

You place your free hand on his cheek. “Then you’re never losing me.”

Benny swallows hard and scans your face—each and every feature—lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. As your thumb strokes his cheekbone, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, turns his head, and presses a kiss to your palm. 

“Baby, I miss you so much,” he mutters, his brows pinched in anguish. “I miss touchin’ you. I miss holdin’ you. I miss sleepin’ next to you.” He lightly shakes his head. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve our baby, but I fuckin’ miss you.”

The unit that is your heart and body and soul feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. This isn’t what the past month of your lives was meant to be about. It was supposed to be about building trust, not dishing out punishment. And yes, you’ve messed up before, said things that weren’t fair, but keeping him at arm's length is more than that. It’s a deeper pain. Stronger. More potent. Not just for him, but for you as well, and now you can’t quite see the point anymore. Staying away from his touch does not help anything if what you want at the end of the day is to be together. And that is what you want. 

When you touch your lips to his for the first time in almost three months, you whimper. You whimper and you melt and the tears want to come back because it’s so much easier to resist desire when you haven’t entertained it in a while. But now you’ve given in. You’re tasting him like you used to, tasting the remnants of gin and cigarettes and the blueberry pie you made for dessert, and it’s all Benny. Benny, who is so shocked that you’ve kissed him that it takes a handful of seconds before he kisses you back and becomes the Benny you know. And then he’s curling his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap, and his hands are everywhere. Squeezing your thighs, sliding over your ass, tracing up your spine, holding the back of your neck to guide you closer so he can kiss you harder, and yea, you are never depriving yourself of your husband again.

Benny stands, taking you with him, supporting your weight as he keeps kissing you and you keep kissing him. He blindly turns and settles into the comfort of the couch with your legs on either side of his hips. 

You lean back, breaking the connection of your lips. “Benny.”

He’s staring at you like you’re hypnotic, mesmerizing. Like he’s drunk on kisses. His fingers trace the curvature of your face. A thumb ghosts over the swollen pillows of your mouth. 

“Yea, baby,” he says, voice gravelly, just above a whisper.

“Do you want to be back in our bed?”

Benny stiffens and he blinks away that glazed-over expression. “You mean it?” He asks. You nod. 

“Are you gonna be in the bed too?” he says, sifting his fingers through your hair. “We're not just swappin’, are we?”

You smile. “No, we aren't swapping,” you promise him, your forehead falling against his. “I'm making room.”

---

A/N: I kind of want to do a time jump Part 3 with lots of Dad!Benny stuff. Let me know if you’d be interested in reading that. Thanks :)

Taglist (if you wanna join)

[tqlepatia]

— SEVIKA × BROTHEL WORKER! READER. (HCS).

Sevika who is initially thrown off by how pink you are. Fluffy heels, glittery eyeshadow, lip gloss that smells like cherries-everything about you screams soft, loud, and delicate. It's the complete opposite of her, and she doesn't know what to make of it... except for how she can't stop looking.

Sevika who didn't plan on coming back to that particular brothel-but then she saw you, all legs and lashes and pink silk. Now she's a reqular. She won't say it's because of you, but everyone knows it is.

Sevika who sits in the corner of the bar that you go in your breaks of your shift sometimes. Doesn't say anything. Just watches you. Just listens you flirting with the bartender. And you don't mind, because something about her presence calms you, grounds you.

Sevika who is so, so careful when she touches you for the first time. You're used to men grabbing, marking, spitting, tossing you around like a piece of clothe, but Sevika? She cups your cheek like you're glass. Like she's scared you'll break. And you melt, she never go rough without warning you.

sevika who didn't even realize when the shift happened. One night, instead of meeting you at the brothel, she found herself waiting by the bakery you said you liked. You showed up all dolled as usual—and gave her that sweet smile, that night was the first of many spent outside the brothel walls, That's when she realized she didn't just want you in the dark. She wanted to be seen with you in the light.

Sevika who calls you "dollface" with this half-smirk like she's making fun of you... but her eyes always linger too long on your thighs, your pouty lips, your perfume bottle shaped like a heart.

Sevika that won't kiss you on the lips, never kisses anyone on the lips-but one night she does. Just once. Just soft. And then she doesn't speak for the rest of the night.

Sevika that acts annoyed when you crawl into her lap after a long night, smelling like roses and someone else's cologne-but she holds you anyway. Lets you tuck your face into her neck and sigh like it's the only place you ever get to breathe.

Sevika, who treats you like you're made of glass after that night, She doesn’t touch you unless you reach for her first. Talks quieter. Lights your cigarettes for you, even when your hands aren’t shaking. Looks at you like she’s memorizing every piece, careful not to break anything already cracked.

Sevika who brings you things she claims are "nothing special"-little pink trinkets, a silk ribbon, a glittery lip balm she said she found "by accident"-and tosses them on your vanity like it doesn't mean anything. But it always means something.

Sevika who once had you fall asleep on her chest while you were doing your nails. You mumbled something like "stay," half-asleep. And she did. Didn't move the whole night. Just laid there with your head on her, heart racing the whole time.

Sevika who could tell that You never learned to read or write properly. When she first taught you to write your name, she was gentle, patient, and never made you feel stupid. You always felt ashamed of your lack of education, but never with her

Sevika who once caught you trying to read a book and struggling with the words. She didn't make a big deal about it-she just sat down beside you, flipped through the pages, and started reading aloud, helping you with the words as you tried to follow along.

Sevika who throws open your door after a dumb fight, tosses three fancy boutique bags on your bed and grumbles, "Still mad?" You peek inside- pink, silk, lace. She looks away, trying to act cool. "Figured you'd like 'em. Pick one."

Sevika who, after a particularly rough night for you, will hold you while you cry, even if she doesn't understand the depth of your pain. She just knows that when you're broken, she needs to be there to help you pick up the pieces.

Sevika who vanishes for days, then comes back holding a wrapped frame. "Did some digging." Inside is a photo of your mother-smiling, young, alive. "You deserve to see her," she says, voice low. You cry. She holds you. Doesn't let go.

☯ - 𝓣ag list.' : @princess-ish-shit @marieeeluvsyou @caitviana @abbysdollie @watermelonshine @diouna

(Lmk if you want to be added)

[christopherisfoive]

hellooo! for the prompt list, i was wondering if you could do bang chan x idol reader with prompts:

7. "you can't flirt your way out of this one." and

9. secret relationship reveal

can be fluffy, crack or a bit angsty (happy ending tho lol). thank you so much!!🙆🖤

Request complete 💌 Thank you so much for trusting me with this one. I had such a lovely time writing it—hope it brings a little something special to your day 🤍 Feel free to send more anytime!

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

There were a lot of unspoken rules in the industry.

Smile. Be polite. Say thank you. Stay out of scandals.

And definitely—definitely—don’t get caught dating another idol.

Which made what just happened on stage a complete disaster.

The moment you stepped off the award show stage, your hands were still trembling. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was panic. Or maybe it was because Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids and the man you’d been secretly dating for nearly a year, had just placed a hand on your waist—on live camera.

You’d both tried to play it cool. Smile. Bow. Wave. But even you couldn’t ignore the shift in energy backstage as you re-entered the holding area. The staff had gone quiet. A monitor replayed the clip in an endless loop. And in the footage? Chan, clearly grinning, clearly touching you. And you? Clearly leaning into it.

Your group’s youngest member, Yuna, was frozen in place near the monitor, blinking at the screen like it was glitching. Then she slowly turned to look at you, jaw dropping.

“Y/N… they know.”

You whipped around, dread forming in the pit of your stomach—only to see Chan striding toward you, cool as ever in his tailored black suit, like he hadn’t just blown your carefully constructed secret sky-high.

He looked… unfairly good. Confident. Dangerous. Like he had no regrets.

“Chan,” you warned under your breath the moment he reached you. "Congrats, baby girl. Always so gorgeous on the stage monitors." “You can’t flirt your way out of this one.”

He leaned in, voice low, eyes sparkling. “Did I flirt? I thought I was just congratulating my girlfriend on her win.”

“Christopher,” you hissed.

He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly soft. “Relax. We didn’t kiss on stage or anything.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to will your heart rate into submission.

He nudged your arm gently. “Hey,” he said, softer now. “You okay?”

You looked up at him, and for just a second, the frustration faltered. Underneath all the chaos, all the tension, there was still that stupid warmth he always gave you—like no matter what the world threw at you, he’d be there.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Chan exhaled, long and slow. Then, without another word, he reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours.

The gesture was quiet. Intentional.

Comforting.

And that’s when it happened.

“Y/N AND BANG CHAN?!” your leader screamed from the other end of the hallway, practically throwing herself out of the dressing room. “I knew it!”

You closed your eyes. “We’re dead.”

Chan grinned, squeezing your hand. “Nah. We’re just getting started.”

It didn’t take long.

By the time you were back in your dressing room, the clip had gone viral. Twitter was flooded with theories, fancams, and unedited screenshots. Dispatch was probably sharpening their lenses. Your manager was hyperventilating in the corner.

And you? You were sitting on the makeup counter, still holding Chan’s jacket like it could shield you from the world.

Your members kept stealing glances. Some looked amused. Others looked like they were trying to figure out how to kill him without leaving evidence.

“You have to talk to him,” your leader said finally, arms crossed. “Like… really talk. This can’t just blow over.”

You nodded, already slipping off the counter. “Yeah. I know.”

Chan was waiting near the staff hallway, bouncing slightly on his heels like he wasn’t the reason half the fandom had gone into cardiac arrest.

The moment he saw you, he straightened. “Come with me.”

You didn’t argue.

He led you to one of the quieter stairwells, tucked between two storage areas. It was empty, dimly lit, and blessedly silent.

He stopped, turned to face you, and the light teasing expression on his face faded into something raw.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“I should’ve been more careful,” he continued. “You didn’t sign up for this kind of reveal. I got caught up in the moment, and I didn’t think about what it might cost you.”

Your breath hitched. Because… he meant it. All of it.

You stepped closer. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “Not because I don’t care. But because I do. So much it makes me stupid.”

Chan smiled faintly. “We’re already stupid. May as well be in love too.”

You let out a choked laugh and finally—finally—wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you tight, no cameras this time. No pretense.

Just you and him.

It took less than a week for the internet to go wild.

#YNNIECHAN trended. Memes were made. Your agency made a statement, carefully vague but not denying anything.

And through it all, Chan didn’t let go of your hand.

Not in the car. Not in the practice rooms. Not even when fans screamed both your names during the encore stage.

When one reporter finally got brave enough to ask during an interview, Chan just grinned.

“She's someone I care about a lot,” he said simply. “And I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

Your group teased you relentlessly afterward, but it didn’t matter. You’d spent so long hiding, guarding your heart like it was breakable glass.

Now it felt steady.

Held.

Loved.

And when Chan kissed your temple backstage that night, whispering, “Still not flirting, by the way,” you rolled your eyes and kissed him back.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the fancams.”

[starkeyisthelastname]

When stepdad rafe hears reader talking about how she wants to loose her virginity

He had over heard you on the phone, giggling away with one of your girlfriends. As delicate and innocent as you were, your voice still carried and that’s when he had found out about you wanting to lose your virginity. The thought of some random boy’s limp dick inside you, made him seethe in anger. It had to be him who popped your perfect little cherry.

You were sitting on your pretty pink bed, surrounded by an enormous amount of fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. Glittery pen in hand, you wrote something down in your journal, while humming to whatever pop song played. Rafe knocked on the already open door, watching those big eyes light up at the sight of him. You slammed the journal closed, shoving it aside.

“Hi, Rafey!” You said, swinging your bare legs off the bed.

It was comical to him that you were still a virgin, especially the way you ran around the house. Shorts that barely covered your rather thick ass, and flimsy tank-tops that your perky tits nearly fell out of. He was curious now to what you were hiding in that diary of yours, making him walk further into the girly room.

“Whatcha doing?” He asked, casually as he made his way over to the bed. “Writing down all your dirty little secrets.” He grinned. He could tell you were nervous by the way you quickly avoided his gaze, looking down at the fury white rug.

“No.. I don’t have any dirty secrets.” You told him, voice small as you swung your legs back and forth.

“Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind me reading your diary. We are family after all and shouldn’t hide secrets.” He said as a matter of factly, reaching down to pick up the journal. You tried to grab it from him, but failed due to his height.

Opening the last page you written in, Rafe read the neat writing, his confirmation of what he had heard earlier coming true. “Today, I talked to my best friend about wanting to lose my virginity. I want to have sex so so bad…” He didn’t even need to continue on, seeing your cheeks turning pink.

“Please don’t tell my mom.” You pleaded to him, knowing that she wanted to keep you pure despite the fact that you were 19.

Rafe chuckled, throwing the diary back onto the bed. “Relax, kid. What’s got you so nervous?” He asked. “You need dick that bad, huh?”

The way you looked up at him, eyes so innocent and lips so kissable, nodding your head, had him growing hard in his pants. It took everything in him not to shove you down on your knees and fuck your little virgin throat. He'd save that for another time though, right now he was determined to ruin your tight cunt.

“See, when you lose your virginity, you want it to be with someone special. Someone you can trust. Not one of your little boyfriends.” He told you.

You looked at him confused, with a little curiosity behind those eyes. “Someone like you Rafey?” Your tone of questioning as you bit your lower lip out of habit. His ocean eyes gleamed in excitement, the heat running straight to his cock.

His eyes nearly rolled back at the sight in front of him. His pure little beauty of a step- daughter, completely naked before him. You were still reluctant that this was wrong, even after his fingers had loosened you up a bit and tongue had been on your sweet folds. Now with his cock in hand, lining it up with your plump pussy he watched your face twitch as he pushed in.

“No.. it hurts.” You mumbled, pushing at his now bare chest as the stretch to your untouched hole was burning.

“You are fine, kid. Never had 9 inches up your princess cunt, I know it.” Rafe’s voice cracked as he tried not to ram himself inside the tightest cunt he ever had the pleasure of being in. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it slow circles to distract you from the pain. Poor thing.

Your whimpers turned into the prettiest moans sooner than later as he began speeding up. Eyes heavy, and abs flexing as he thrusted into you. He was Rafe Cameron and he got everything he wanted, including taking his step-daughter’s virginity.