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#and i immediately draw it i am a simple woman
written-in-flowers · 5 months
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Be the Light: Pt. 1 (SeongjoongxReader)
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Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.
Word Count: 7k
Genre: angst, fluff, smut
AU: historical!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au
Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.
Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed
And thank you so much @daesukiii for beta reading this fic!! It's well appreciated!💕💕
Part 2 >
***
"YN!"
You heard her howl your name from down the hall. The sound of her voice made you quicken your pace, a streak of panic striking through you. 
"YN! YN, where are you?!”
Her voice sent ice cold water through your veins. You’d left her alone with the others for only a moment. What could possibly have happened in the span of five minutes? A slew of scenarios ranging in severity ran through your mind. Somebody brushed her hair too hard. Somebody smeared her lip paint. Somebody said the wrong thing or the right thing but in the wrong way. You preferred not thinking of what she’d done to that person. 
“YN!”
You walked through the wooden hallway, keeping your head down to not draw much attention to yourself. A habit, you supposed, that you’d learned since being her handmaiden. Finally reaching her room, you gave the guard outside a single glance and he slid the door open for you. 
“She’s in a mood today,” he told you gruffly. “You’d think after the night she had, she’d be more docile.”
“She’s never docile,” you replied. “I’ll handle her.”
“As always.” 
You didn’t find her in the front room of her apartments, where servants put out her morning tea and breakfast spread. Walking past the red and cream colored couches, with their low wooden tables, you moved past more servants cleaning the window frames and floors spotless. You opened the doors leading into her bedroom. Two maids in plain hanboks changed her bed sheets and fluffed her pillows. They gave you both a concerned look, which you replied to with a nod.
“YN!”
“Your Majesty, I am here. What is your command?”
Sookmyung stood on a platform in the middle of her dressing room. Four girls dressed in white hanboks kept their heads down and hands clasped together, a sign of their subservience to the woman. Queen Han Sookmyung only wore the emerald skirt of her hanbok, her long black hair unbraided and falling down her back, and you saw the issue immediately. The top layer of her gown laid on the floor at her feet, a bundle of more emerald cloth bordered with golden vines.
“My command is that I want these imbeciles out of my sight!” she screeched, stamping her foot on the platform. “I told this one to bring the blue and gold one. She brought the green and gold!”
“A simple mistake, Your Majesty, I am sure,” you said calmly, walking further into the room. “Aro,” you turned to one of the handmaidens nearest you, “Please bring Her Majesty the dark blue and gold dress. It’s in the fourth box on the second shelf.” She bowed to you, then briskly left for the closet in the other room.
“YN, send them away. I cannot stand looking at them any longer.”
“You are all dismissed for now.”
The remaining handmaidens bowed, then left the room without a word. You moved over to her and began untying the skirt from her torso. Discontent still read on Sookmyung’s thin, oval face. Once the young queen flew into one of her rages, it was difficult to bring her back down. It was why you instructed the handmaidens to do as she said down to the last word. It saved everyone lots of trouble. 
When you gingerly removed the skirt, leaving her in the underskirt and undergarments, you saw yourself in the long mirror. Your white dress nearly blended in with the brightly colored room around you.  Like all female monarchs, she surrounded herself with handmaidens. The distinction was Sookmyung demanded her female servants be virgins, who all wore white to make Sookmyung stand out against them. Being the eldest of her handmaidens, a companion since childhood, your uniform differed in the red ribbon keeping your top half closed. Yet, even then you mustn’t draw too much attention to yourself. How can The Queen shine if her servants looked more beautiful than her? 
“They’re such simpletons,” she grunted. “I do not know what is so difficult. How can one possibly confuse blue with green?”
“I am certain she misheard you, Your Majesty.” Deflect her displeasure. You glanced over to the vanity where someone laid out her jewelry. They’d chosen the dangling gold earrings and matching hair ornaments. “Look at this set, Your Majesty,” you gave a soft gasp, walking over to the jewelry, “These earrings are absolutely divine! Are they not?”
“They are fine enough,” she replied haughtily. “At least the fool chose something that matches.”
“Indeed,” you agreed. “I am surprised she had any fashion sense at all, to be honest.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she sneered, flipping a loose strand of hair from her shoulder. “Send the idiot away when she returns. You will dress me today.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
When the girl returned, you took the long, flat box and dismissed her quietly. Not a sound. Not a whisper or a mumble. That was how servants communicated: discreetly and hurriedly. With everyone gone, only you two remained. You began unwrapping the separate pieces of Sookmyung’s dress from the box. The blue skirt remained plain, while golden dragons interweaved around her shoulders and along the middle of the top. The gold paint shined whenever she moved her torso, and the voluminous skirt gave an illusion of gliding instead of walking.
“I am taking visitors today,” she mused as you began brushing her hair. You took care not to let the brush snag in her waist-length strands. The ring on her finger looked like it’d cut your cheek. “Merchants and common people.”
“Your people wish to speak with you, Your Majesty,” you replied, pulling back her hair to start braiding. “They seek your wisdom and guidance.”
“As they should,” she said, admiring the golden ring on her finger. “I am their queen. They need to heed my words and obey them.”
You would’ve told her that giving advice and giving commands are different things, but you knew better.
After many failed pregnancies, King Siwon and Queen Jisoo finally produced a child in their fourth year. Sookmyung became her father’s sole heir to the throne. Being the only heir, the king groomed his daughter for rule. You wanted to say that Sookmyung ignored her lessons and took no interest in them, but that is far from the truth. Sookmyung devoured her father’s wise council and listened attentively at his elbow. She followed the master at arms around the training yard, learning how to use a sword and bow. She spent time in the stables learning how to tame and ride horses. Everyone hoped her eagerness meant she’d be a good and capable queen, but you knew better. Unlike the king’s council, you knew why Sookmyung took to the idea of ruling the kingdom so quickly.
There’d be nobody to stop her. 
“I heard Kim Haneul wishes to propose to you,” you said, hoping the gossip keeps her occupied. You styled her hair up from her face to accentuate her facial features and long neck, sliding bejeweled pins to keep it in place. “He has had his eye on you for a long time.”
“Which one is he again?” she asked, stumped. “He isn’t the fat one, is he?”
“No, Your Majesty,” you faked an amused giggle. You grabbed her eoyeo meori, the circular wig with its golden adornments. Placing it as a halo around her head before pinning it in place, you continued. “That is Advisor Heechul’s son. Haneul is the son of the new Duke of Daegu. He’s that handsome one who won your archery contest at last year’s harvest festival. I heard from some of the maids that he favors you highly.”
“Of course he does,” she scoffed, double checking the work you’d done. “I’m a queen. He’s a common nobleman.”
“Yes, he is,” you nodded, “But he will approach you nevertheless, Your Majesty.”
“Who told you this nonsense?”
“One of the kitchen hands,” you told her, picking up a powder box from the vanity. “She said she overheard it from Haneul and one of his companions. I thought I’d tell you to prepare you for it should he ask today.” You then added, “I know how much you dislike surprises. I’d hate for him to spring it on you, and you be flustered in making a decision.”
“Yes, I do despise it.” She kept herself still as you began lightly applying powder to her face. “Haneul…Haneul…You say he’s the handsome archer from last year?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hm, must not be remarkable if I did not collect him already,” she mused. A small smile crossed her face, “Have you seen my flowers today, YN?”
“I haven’t,” you answered honestly. “You know as well as I that no one is permitted in your garden.”
“Oh, my beautiful flowers,” she sighed softly. “They bring me such comfort.” 
You saw her eyes glaze over as they did when she spoke of Them. Those at court called them ‘The Golden Ones’, but Sookmyung called them her ‘flowers’. You pondered on the men while you finished painting her lips. Upon his death, king Siwon had twenty-five concubines living in the “private gardens” near the king’s quarters. Sookmyung dismissed them all the morning after his death, determined to fill it with concubines of her own. You and her advisors told her queens did not usually take male concubines, since she is meant to marry and produce children. Sookmyung ignored all of you. During her war campaign across the country, she searched for handsome men to bring into her harem. Yet, with all things, she was picky. Her concubines needed to be ethereal beauties; they needed to be trophies that would make her the envy of the court. She eventually found them, imprisoned them, and then put them in the gardens to do what she pleased. 
Sookmyung currently has eight concubines. No doubt should another war arise, she will steal more sons.
“Tell the guard to bring my flowers to the throne room today,” she said, admiring herself in the mirror when you finished. “I wish for them to be there. They do bring me relief on days like today.”
“At once, Your Majesty.” You picked up a purple perfume box, but Sookmyung shook her head. 
“No, not jasmine. Hongjoong detests jasmine scents.”
‘He does not. It’s you he detests.’ 
“Then will you prefer the lavender or the rose perfume?”
“Lavender. It has such a calming effect on him,” she said when you started dabbing the scent on her neck and wrists. “My fiery blossom. I know he will be furious if that fool Haneul comes forward. His jealousy is only outmatched by my own, I’m afraid.”
“Well, seeing other men fawn over you must make him believe your love for him will wane and disappear,” a male voice said from somewhere behind you. “We cannot fault him for his emotions.”
You turned your head to see an old man walk into the room. His salt-and-pepper hair cut short, he’d left his thin mustache and beard growing past throat to his chest. Wrinkled by age, Senior Advisor Choi Wonshik served the royal family since Sookmyung’s grandfather’s time. In the red robes of a first rank advisor, he walked further into the room. He smiled at Sookmyung, giving her a slight bow as their eyes met. 
“Senior Advisor,” Sookmyung said, looking back at herself, “What brings you here?”
“I came to see if you’d be joining us in the throne hall for petitions this morning,” he asked. “The other advisors and I believe it will show the people an image of concern if you are seen on your father’s throne-”
“-You mean my throne,” she cut him off. “I am the queen.”
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” he smiled, giving a nod of the head, “Old habits die hard.”
“Or easily,” you heard her mutter. “But, yes I will be there today. Tell the other officials to worry.”
“That is a relief to hear,” he grinned. “We look forward to seeing you there.”
“Mhm-hm.”
His attention turned to you, “Good day, YN.”
“Good day, Senior Advisor,” you gave a slight bow and a smile. 
It was the briefest of glances but you noticed it right away. Eyes lined with crows feet looked between you and Sookmyung, with a certain disappointment lingering in them. The expression did not sit right with you, but it was not your place to question. Advisor Choi left, and you and Sookmyung were alone again. He seemed to be filled with words he could not say out loud. Then again, many people did the same. It was Sookmyung’s chuckle that caught your attention.
“The old man likes you,” she cackled. “Out of all the men in the world, it’s the ancient one.”
“He was being polite,” you said to her, cheeks burning from her laughter. 
“He doesn’t have to be ‘polite’ to you,” she said. “He outranks you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted you as his concubine. It is disgusting to think about,” she shuddered, “Those knobbly hands on you and those lips. Don’t worry, YN. I won’t let him touch you.”
“That is kind of you, Your Majesty.”
“You must be envious of me, YN. I have my beautiful flowers and you have nobody,” she said thoughtfully, “I spend ages worshiping Seonghwa’s gorgeous body or listening to Jongho sing and you're here all alone. It must be sad."
“It can be, but I hope one day that will change,” you told her. You grabbed the blue overcoat from the box, letting her stand to put it on her. “I may find someone who is patient and clever. The kind of man who treats his lady well and is gracious and kind.” A man such as Seonghwa. But, that was a thought you immediately pushed out. 
“Men like that are needles in a haystack. Only I have been fortunate to find such lovely beauties like my flowers,” she said. “Like Hongjoong…”
You followed her out of the bedroom. Hongjoong’s face came to the forefront of your mind. The last of Sookmyung’s flowers, he’d quickly become her favorite. You saw how he fawned over her, and constantly whispered things in her ear that made her giggle. Secretly, you wished it was you he whispered to, but you knew that wouldn’t be. Hongjoong is placed far out of your reach, just like the rest of them. As you followed her out of her room, you bit your lip thinking about the last time she made you stay in their “garden”. Sookmyung took delight in seeing you flustered and squirming when she took one of them. Like all her handmaidens, you’d kept your virginity intact, which she enjoyed teasing you about. But, if you had your pick, you'd have him or Seonghwa. Possibly even both. 
Four men dressed in black and red leather armor met you outside her chambers. You whispered the summons to one of them, and he passed it along to one of the guards at the main doors. A wooden palanquin sat at the bottom steps of the residency building, a red awning keeping the sun from hitting Sookmyung as she climbed inside. You, however, stayed on the outside. You eyed the spot beside her, a seat wide enough for you both to fit, but you knew she’d never offer it to you. The queen rides in the palanquin. Her handmaiden walks. 
“But you wouldn’t understand anything about that,” Sookmyung giggled as the footmen lifted the litter and the group moved. You walked steadily at her side, making sure to keep yourself in step. Move too slow, and she’ll complain that you’re lagging behind. Move too quickly, and she’ll accuse you of trying to upstage her. “You are unmarried and are still a virgin.”
“That does not mean I cannot love, Your Majesty, or understand how it works,” you replied calmly. You sensed the taunt skirting around her words, and you braced yourself for more. “I see how Hongjoong and the others are when you’re in their presence. It is like seeing heaven on earth. They worship you. They adore you. I think we all can only hope for such love to come into our lives.”
“How sweet,” she pouted, “It must be nice to have such naive and fanciful dreams about love. I’m afraid it is not always so heavenly.” You noticed her face turn sour, “I see how those little harlots in court gawk at them whenever they pass. They see my flowers and sigh over them.” You saw her fold her hands over one another on her lap, “I remember that one idiot who tried seducing my Mingi. She had that pathetic, simpering smile and that obnoxious laugh. Ugh, it was a humiliating display," a wicked smirk came across her face, "But, I put a stop to that all together. You remember that, do you not, YN?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I do.” 
Lady Seulgi, a noblewoman draped in expensive adornments, had come to the palace during a birthday celebration. You recall how Sookmyung spotted her eyeing Mingi, one of the concubines, and the jealousy flaring in her eyes. You’d done all you could to convince Sookmyung that she saw nothing; Lady Seulgi happened to look in his direction, that was all. This lie worked for a time, before someone else spotted Lady Seulgi trying to corner Mingi in the palace garden. Sookmyung immediately had Lady Seulgi thrown into the dark, secluded jails in the back of the palace. Walking up the steps of a gate to reach the throne hall, you recall seeing Lady Seulgi removed of her finery and forced into a roughspun tunic. The beautiful, bold lady you’d seen that night became a filthy, frightened creature within days. You tried not remembering the stubs of her missing fingers, or the screams she made when Sookmyung pulled out her toenails one at a time. 
‘Make her ugly. Make her so ugly nobody will look at her.’ 
Nobody heard from Seulgi ever again. 
You spotted masses of people filling the wide throne courtyard. Nobles and commoners alike came to petition their problems to the queen, and it created a multi-colored sea of people in the square. Right when the palanquin passed through the gate, a group of soldiers dressed in red and white began playing on either side of the large doors. Two held horns, two banged on drums, one with cymbals, and another held a gong as they walked down the aisle. 
“The Queen is entering!” the leader called out in a booming voice, which caught everyone's attention. 
The daechwita played as they led the procession towards the throne hall. You kept your eyes to the ground now, making yourself as invisible as possible, and followed the palanquin the entire way. You chanced a glance at Sookmyung, whose eyes danced with pride. This is what she loved. This is why she scorched villages and killed kings. The power that emanated from the people bowing to her seemed to swell in her chest. You pitied anyone who upset her today.  They may end up the same way as Lady Seulgi if they’re not careful. 
The palanquin reached the throne hall’s platform, and footmen helped Sookmyung out of it. You briskly straightened out the back of her gown, and then stepped out of her way. The throne hall was wide with open windows, lattice walls, and a high decorative ceiling. Before his death, the king sat on the throne of his ancestors before him. A red throne painted with gold dragons, with a folded screen stood behind depicting the sun, moon, and mountains. It took someone three steps to reach the top of the platform, which only gave enough space for the king and two bodyguards to occupy. 
When Sookmyung came into power, she expanded on this inch by inch. She rebuilt the throne itself to have a taller back to rest on, and raised the platform a several more steps to open it up. This way, her concubines may sit on the steps in comfort, lounging peacefully on display for the whole court. Nobody said it out loud, but you knew why she wanted them with her. How can she flaunt her victories if the trophies are hidden behind garden walls? It made you sick. She not only desecrated the ancient throne, which for centuries stood as a symbol of dignity, but put her own proudful twist on it as well. You followed her up the steps, and walked right to your place in the shadows of the high dais. 
“All hail the Queen!” the singer called out. 
“All hail the Queen!” most of the crowd repeated back. 
Back in her father’s day, the king would speak to his subjects directly. He’d thank them for traveling to visit him, and begin accepting petitions and propositions. Sookmyung stayed silent, eyeing the crowd, while Senior Advisor Choi stepped in front of the throne. 
“Good people, good people,” he called, “It is our queen’s great delight and honor to host you here in her grand throne hall today. She is very interested to hear your thoughts and find solutions for your concerns. May the first of the petitioners step forward, please.”
The first to approach were two men. You took in their haggard appearance: clothes hanging from their skinny frames, worn out shoes on their feet, and their skin tanned from years in the sun. You could tell they must work outdoors, most likely in one of Sookmyung’s rice or spice fields. The taller man spoke up first, fire in his voice already.
“Your Majesty, I have been severely wronged in your great country,” he began. “This man,” he pointed to the person beside him, “Has been extending his land onto mine little by little for several months now!”
“Your Majesty, I have done no such thing! I was merely rebuilding my fences, and happened to accidentally-”
“-Accidentally? Ha, please! Do not try to fool us into believing you do not know where your land ends and mine begins,” his opponent retorted. “You have been rebuilding that fence of yours for quite some time. The stakes from the last rebuild are still in the ground, and they are several feet from where they’d been before.”
“My son has been helping me, Your Majesty,” the man said to Sookmyung. “He is not the brightest of boys, but he is strong and helpful to me in my old age. He must have marked the line wrong-”
“-How despicable! To blame your deception on your own flesh and blood-”
“-I am only providing a possible explanation! Besides, why do you care? It is not as if you tend to your fields regularly or properly. I have seen the grain you grow. It is subpar at best, and inedible at worst. I am the superior farmer, therefore I should have more land…”
“This is so boring,” Sookmyung mumbled loud enough for you to hear. “Who cares about a stupid farm?”
“Their farms are important to them, Your Majesty,” you replied. “It is the only way they can feed themselves and their families.”
“Psh, as if they are now. Look how skinny they are. It’s appalling.”
“Yes, it is.”
Your heart sank hearing the two men describe their feud to one another. You thought of your own solution: You would’ve told them to have an official come and inspect the property lines for them to have an unbiased opinion. You’d pay builders from the city to repair the fence damage and realign it to avoid any more confusion. They would have done that already if they could afford to pay for the help. Sookmyung’s high taxes and the wealthy’s low wages make it difficult for the common folk of the kingdom to live properly. The few times you’d gone into the city for her, you’d seen the way most of them live day-to-day. They’re starving, unable to properly care for themselves or their children, and barely afford to pay their land owners. In their desperation, many of them venture into the Queen’s forest to hunt for food, with hopes of not being caught by guards roaming the perimeters. Others resort to criminal activities, since the slum lords pay much better than their law abiding counterparts. Sookymung’s kingdom fell into poverty because of the grand lifestyle she wished to live and the wars she'd waged. While her people starved, the queen and her elite nobles dined and dressed well. It sickened you to your stomach. 
“...Which of them brings in more grain?” Sookmyung asked the senior advisor. 
Senior Choi looked to Advisor Park, the master of coin who took care of the kingdom’s finances. It took the middle-aged man a moment, but he eventually found their names and most recent tax payments. The accused paid more in his taxes and supplied more grain than his accuser.
“Then it is clear that he deserves more land than this one,” Sookmyung told Choi. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”
Choi stared up at her, but he did not look as dumbfounded as his fellow advisors. For the briefest moment, you caught disdain in his dark eyes. Nevertheless, he turned away and addressed the men. 
“Then it is clear that…that he deserves more land than this one,” you heard him repeat stoically. “Why give land to a man who cannot contribute to the prosperity of his kingdom and his queen?”
“B-B-But, Your Majesty, my family has owned that farm for many years,” he said imploringly. “It is not right!”
“Perhaps his family should find a new venture and stop wasting my time", Sookmyung huffed. “The man will keep his fence where it is, and you will accept my decision.”
Choi repeated her words verbatim, and the man’s jaw dropped. “Your Majesty-”
“-Next,” she dismissed him through Choi.
Both men were forced to the side by guards. Right as the next person came up, drums and horns suddenly rang throughout the large hall. Sookmyung’s eyes lit up and she beamed at the people entering the room.
“Her Majesty’s concubines approach!” the leader said. “Make way for The Golden Ones! Make way!”
Surrounded by four guards dressed in all black armor walked a group of eight men.
As always, Sookmyung’s concubines wore their black and gold hanboks: Their overcoats of black silk covered most of their body, the wide sleeves ending far past their fingers. Glimmering stones weaved into the intricate floral patterns of their golden sashes, matching the hair pins and jewelry they wore. What separated them the most were their veils. Thin veils hanging from their ears hung to their chests, the sheer fabric dotted with gold pieces to hide their features. Only you and Sookmyung ever saw their faces unmasked. She said the less they revealed of themselves, the less likely anybody would desire them.
A complete and utter lie, in your opinion.
“My beautiful flowers,” she smiled, eyes full of fondness. “So wonderful to see you early in the morning,” she watched them walk up the steps to their assigned seats on the steps.
The farthest was Jongho, who sat on the third step from the bottom, lounging back with one elbow on the step above him. The youngest of her flowers, he kept his black hair in a braid that was woven with gold bands. Formerly an innkeeper’s son, Sookmyung stole him from his family during the end of her campaign. You never forgot how Sookmyung viciously beat the old woman who begged her not to take him; how Jongho did not stop crying the entire way back to the capital.
“Your braid looks lovely today, Jongho,” Sookmyung admired, looking over his round, soft features from afar.
“I am glad you think so, Mistress,” he said, “I added the jewels especially for you.”
“I’m wearing the hair band you gifted me, Mistress,” said a slender boy sitting just above him.
Wooyoung. The son of the Duke of Pyongyang, the siege of his city took Sookmyung only a few days. She often boasted about how their forces retreated from her men like mice. As with the other kingdoms, she gifted the seat of House Jung to one of her allies, and took the duke’s son for herself. Wooyoung fled into the woods, being hunted by Sookmyung and her pack of dogs for several days before being found and dragged to camp. You preferred not thinking about what Sookmyung did to break him.
You noticed the young man winced when he moved to face her. From what you’d gathered, Sookmyung visited his chambers the previous night. Whatever she’d done left him sore and holding back whimpers of pain. The tenderness inside you wished to reach out for him. You wished to comfort and assure him that his pain will subside soon. His wounds will heal and he will be fine. But, how ‘fine’ is he when Sookmyung owns him?
“It looks lovely on you, darling,” Sookmyung said. Another peasant was brought before her, but she ignored him. “You were magnificent last night. You and San both.”
San, muscular and broad, sat across from Wooyoung. Thin eyes flickered with hate before changing to pure seduction. “As were you, Mistress.”
Choi San used to be a soldier in Sookymung’s army. His father, General Choi, was a general who commanded a large portion of her forces. One day, when his battalion was overpowered and forced to retreat, Sookmyung took this failure as a sign of weakness. It inflamed her burning rage, and Sookmyung sentenced the man to a brutal death: being beaten with clubs by his own lieutenants. San was forced to watch the entire thing. From what you’d heard, he still woke up screaming for his father to run.
“Mistress, I’m sleepy,” said the man sitting above San and Wooyoung. Long-limbed with sleek brown hair, he gave an audible yawn and stretched. “I sleep so lightly without you beside me.”
Another sweet lie to fill her head with dreams. Sookmyung’s war took her all over the country, and this meant bypassing several inns and small villages. When attacking Haeju, Sookmyung camped outside a small fishing village right on the west coast. There, she found plenty of provisions and ship builders to repair the damaged fleet. With them came a tall, lean young man with brown hair and a precious smile. Song Mingi. You’d originally thought Sookmyung took Mingi for a fleeting fancy, but when she told him that he’d be joining the other men she’d dragged with her, he naturally refused. It wasn’t until Sookmyung threatened to kill his entire family that he went with her.
Sookmyung burnt down his whole village, ultimately murdering his family anyways.
“Perhaps I may remedy that tonight, lovely,” she replied, smirking at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t want my Mingi to collapse from lack of proper rest.”
“Then what of me, Mistress?” a wide-eyed young man said on the other side. “You said you’d be with me.”
Dainty and petite, Kang Yeosang was also nobility. While not high in rank, his family did supply the opposition with food and resources throughout the war. Sookmyung created the strategy to hit them at their source, which included raiding baggage supply trains moving through the country. Yeosang led one such train, and while his men fought valiantly, they were defeated. Yeosang, having an angelic look to him with doe-like eyes, became another addition to her growing harem. She promised he’d go home if his family surrendered their land and resources to her, so Yeosang agreed. But, Yeosang never went home. It took him a short time to realize that Sookmyung never planned on ransoming him. When he heard her forces invaded his home, slaughtered his family, and claimed it in her name, he knew he’d never see home again.
“You can join us then, Yeosangie,” she cooed.
A peasant woman holding a baby in a blanket came forward, tearful and pleading for her child’s life. Sookmyung hardly listened to her as she addressed the man next to Yeosang: Yunho. Equally as tall as Mingi, he kept his black in a top knot with a black band around his forehead. A servant placed a bowl of grapes in front of him, but he did not eat them. He could never eat with Sookmyung around. She disgusted him to the point of losing his appetite. 
“Yunho, are you not hungry?”
“I had a large breakfast, Mistress.”
He turned his head to answer her, then back to the woman standing before him. She sobbed about how a group of men ransacked her home, taking everything she owned and leaving her with nothing but her life. You saw the pity in his puppy-dog eyes. He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a velvet coin purse. You knew that Yunho sometimes secretly slipped silver or gold coins to the servants when possible. 
“Here,” Yunho walked down the steps to her, “For your and your child.”
“S-Sir…” she wept, looking at the large sum in her hand, “I…I cannot…” she glanced at Sookmyung, who glared. “I cannot accept this-”
“-I insist,” Yunho said, not reaching or touching her. It’d put a mark on her back for certain. “You need it more than me.”
“Thank you,” she cried, “Thank you, sir.” 
“Isn’t my Yunho generous?” Sookmyung said, though her grin did not reach her ears. “He is always thinking of others.”
“It is why you noticed me, Mistress, is it not?”
He came back to his seat and your eyes briefly met his. Yunho, not of noble birth, lived in a farming village before outlaws came and raided them. By the time Sookmyung arrived, several villagers either died or were grievously injured. Being the son of the town physician, Yunho tended to several of the children, frightened and wounded from the bandits. Sookmyung not only found it endearing, but saw Yunho’s apparent handsomeness. She promised he’d be her personal physician’s apprentice, learning at the elbow of the finest in the kingdom. He only needed to travel with her for a few days. But, when she placed him in the harem tent with the others, he realized what his role would truly be. It is only fortunate that Yunho is able to tend to whatever wounds the concubines suffer at Sookmyung’s hands.
“It is,” she nodded. “You’re just as sweet as my Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa sat on a cushion a step right beneath Sookmyung. The eldest of the Golden Ones, his sharp jawline and full lips enchanted Sookmyung right away. Son of an advisor to another king, he’d attempted to trade his life for his younger brother, whom she’d gifted to a group of loyalists during her victory celebration. Unfortunately, this did not work. His younger brother was carried off by the men while Seonghwa was dragged to her new chambers. From what you know, Seonghwa hasn’t seen his brother since then. 
His father having been a notable advisor, Senior Advisor Choi has often sought him out for counsel and opinion. You supposed this intelligence is why he’d managed to last so long. He gave her a dashing smile, and spoke in his deep voice.
“But nobody is as sweet as you, Mistress,” he licked his lips, “Nobody certainly tastes as sweet either.”
“Seonghwa,” she flipped open her fan and gave it to you to fan her, “You always know what to say.”
Her eyes then landed on the concubine sitting on her left, elbow on the arm of the throne and appearing bored. Black hair tied back in a ponytail, Sookmyung gifted him with a red headband to wear around his head. Embroidered flowers in the center, this symbol of Sookmyung’s favoritism set him apart from the others. You’re sure that the reason she favored him so highly is not only his handsomeness, but the fact that he’d been a true prince. Hongjoong, Crowned Prince of Wonju. 
Wonju was a peaceful, plentiful kingdom that remained its own nation after the Han clan took over the country. Somewhere far off in the east, you remember the mountain ranges that surrounded the area, high and steep so that very few enemies could pass. It’d been ruled over by the Kim clan, with King Hyungshik at the head. A king in his own right, it was peace terms with the Hans that prevented open warfare. You’d always understood both nations to live side-by-side in harmony. Then Sookmyung became queen, and she could not have another monarch in her country. 
But, Wonju did not fall to Sookmyung as easily. Several bloody and fierce battles were found on land and sea, ripping the two nations apart in the process. Several kingdoms sided with Wonju, but they’d been overpowered by the queen’s men. Sookmyung’s triumph over Wonju became a lasting highlight of her conquest. She’d taken Hongjoong as a further stab to those who’d rebel and oppose her. To her, he is her biggest trophy. 
“Mistress, please let us be done with this riff-raff,” Hongjoong drawled, “And entertain ourselves elsewhere. This business bores me to tears.”
Yet, even after the death of their royal family, the people of Wonju oppose Sookmyung and the man she put in charge of them. Many resistance fighters her armies capture are from Wonju. You wondered at what point did they stop trying to rescue Hongjoong and focus their efforts on usurping Sookmyung. You knew he hated Sookmyung, regardless of what he said to the contrary. You’d hate her too if you were him. But, Hongjoong had secrets of his own.
You’d never tell anyone about the woman you’d seen him meeting at night.
“It is part of my duty as queen, blossom,” she told him, lifting his chin to make him look at her. “Advisor Choi insists I perform my responsibilities as ruler, but the only thing I ever wish to do is be in your arms and in your bed.”
“Then leave these filthy peasants, love,” he took the hand on his chin and held it gently, “And let me admire my queen as a loyal subject should.”
“Hongjoongie…” she breathed,
“Please, Mistress,” he put a yearning into his seductive tone, “It has been so long since you have visited my chambers. You’re always with the others and never with me,” he put a hand on her knee and knelt. You heard him whisper something obscene in her ear, which made her giggle. “…It grows harder in every thought. Do not leave me wanting, Mistress, please. It aches for you…”
This is what Sookmyung wanted: a concubine who professes nothing but undying desire for her. Sookmyung could never truly love anyone, regardless of what she said. Hongjoong knew this, and you admired his tact. It is better to make her believe he needed her than to show his true feelings. You wondered if he thought of the other woman when he said these words. You knew he'd never think of you. 
You saw them after a celebration for Sookmyung’s five-year-reign as queen. You finished helping her into bed and took the shortcut back to the servant’s quarters to rest your tired feet. Cutting through the concubine gardens, you’d heard hushed voices through a hedge. You thought nothing of it at the time, since you thought it must’ve been the wind or an animal nearby. Yet, you then heard the high voice of Kim Hongjoong, followed by another voice. A woman’s voice. Curiosity and shock got the better of you, and you peeked through the high hedge to see their figures in the shadows of the trees. You couldn’t tell what they’d done, since they hid themselves behind dense thickets of shrubbery, but it did not take much to wonder. You never saw the woman, so you guessed she’d gone over the garden wall, but you did see Hongjoong. It did not take a genius to figure out what he’d done. You swore yourself to secrecy; you told yourself that revealing this secret of his to anyone meant death.
“Alright,” she pouted, “I can never say no to this beautiful face of yours…���
“Or my tongue,” he added softly, putting his face inches from hers but never kissing. The veil acted as a barrier that drove her nuts. “Seonghwa will join us, if you wish. He enjoys you just as much as I do. Isn’t that so, Brother?”
“It is,” Seonghwa nodded, but did not approach her.
Your eyes met Hongjoong’s. You wished you could thank him. With Sookmyung occupied with him and his “brothers”, you could see your mother, whom you haven’t seen for two nights. You may even see Queen Jisoo, Sookmyung’s mother. 
“We’re done for today,” Sookmyung told Choi, who nodded stiffly. “Come, flowers.”
One by one they followed her down the steps, and you trailed behind them. Everyone bowed their heads as she walked by, but you couldn’t help seeing their glaring faces. They must’ve waited hours to see her, and she only listened to two or three people. She conquered every kingdom in the country, turning them into wards under her rule, and did nothing to help them. Like the men who trailed behind her, they are spoils of war. Sookmyung squandered their collective wealth, expecting her subjects to accept it without complaint. You wished you knew a way to help, but you’re as powerless as them. You watched Hongjoong climb into Sookmyung’s litter, the pair instantly turning to one another, and expected to walk alongside them.
“No, no, YN,” Sookmyung stopped you as you approached. “You’re dismissed for the day. Come to the garden around supper. If anyone comes calling for me, tell them I am indisposed.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you bowed, standing aside as the footmen lifted up the five litters.
She turned away from you to kiss Hongjoong, who tilted his head to deepen it. Once more, you locked eyes with one another. You gave him an appreciative smile, which he replied with a blink. You waited until Sookmyung was far away before walking towards the opposite gate back to the residency area. Passing by Sookmyung’s personal apartments, you walked further down the hall to a set of double doors guarded by a leggy man in leather armor. 
“Good morning, Junhan,” you grinned at them, the older man grinning back. “Is Her Majesty accepting visitors?”
“She will if it’s you,” he replied, “How was the witch this morning?”
“Junhan,” you hissed, holding back your laugh and looking down the hall, “You know better.”
“Ah, as if anyone is going to hear me here,” he rolled his eyes. He slid open the door for you, and said, “She’ll be glad to see you. Your mother says Her Majesty has been anxious these past few days.”
“Then I should see her quickly,” you said, giving him a nod before walking into the main room. 
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” you smiled as you entered a nearby sitting room. 
The Queen Mother Jisoo was once held in the admiration of everyone in the kingdom. She’d helped the kingdom in many ways during her reign alongside her husband: giving smaller villages access to clean water, funding orphanages and reconstructing damaged parts of the city. She helped pass laws that protected women in arranged marriages or dangerous situations, and gave protection to children. It was because of her that many people, especially the women and children, felt safe in the kingdom. But, when her daughter became queen, the Queen Mother stepped back and focused on her passions instead. However, age came for Jisoo, and her mobility became limited and her health declined slightly.
“Ah, YN, good morning,” Jisoo smiled. She sat in her wheeled chair today, a blanket over her lap and a cup of tea in her hand. “How is my daughter?”
“She is well. She is in the throne hall,” you fibbed. “She asked me to come check on you for her.”
“YN,” she smiled softly, shaking her head, “You’d lie to an old woman to spare her feelings. Please, come and sit. I’m sure Sookmyung did not make the morning easy for you. A servant told me she sent away her handmaidens this morning.”
“She did.” You took the seat across from her and prepared yourself a cup of tea. You offered to refill her cup, but she refused. “Your Majesty, you must eat,” you noticed the amount of food left over, “If you don’t, it will get cold.”
“I don’t have much of an appetite today,” she admitted. “But, I’m sure you’re famished, so please, eat.”
“She hardly had time to eat her breakfast this morning, Your Majesty.”
A woman in a gray and blue hanbok walked into the room, carrying a stack of folded sheets. Her hair tied up in a bun, she wore the blue and gray hanbok of Queen Jisoo’s maids. Like your red ribbon, she wore a white one. You grinned at the sight of your mother. She’d been Queen Jisoo’s handmaiden in her youth, being at her side for every event of her life. When you grew up, you became Sookmyung’s maid. Except, you’re certain your mother had a much better time serving Jisoo than you did Sookmyung.
“And why was that?” Jisoo asked curiously. “Breakfast is important, and you’re still a growing woman.”
“The queen needed me to assist her in her garden,” you admitted over a cup of tea before sipping. You saw the disapproval on your mother’s face, but it was Jisoo who spoke up.
“And what horrid thing did she make you witness?”
“Nothing. She’d sent the concubines away before I arrived.”
“Hmph, in my day, queens did not have ‘concubines’,” your mother huffed, shaking her head. “The physician tells me he brews her tansy tea to avoid scandalous mishaps, but that is not healthy for a young woman. She’ll do severe damage to her womb, and not be able to produce children at all at this rate.”
“Chaewon,” the queen shushed her sharply. 
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she apologized. She noticed you not eating, and spread a bit of honey on bread for you. You knew better than to refuse her, so you ate it in small bites.
“My Sookmyung has always had a certain fiery passion,” Jisoo said. “Her father was similar. It was why he had so many concubines. He had an appetite I could not handle on my own,” she giggled.
“But, Your Majesty, the things I’ve heard The Queen does are-”
“-I know they are,” she cut in. “My daughter is a young woman, a new monarch. I will not rob her of enjoying her youth before settling down and marrying someone.”
Did that enjoyment of youth involve locking people in dungeons to torment and torture for pleasure? Did it include kidnapping young men from their families and forcing them to fulfill her every whim? Jisoo might make excuses for Sookmyung, but you would not. You finished the bit of bread given to you, and took up a bowl of kimchi instead. Not fully tasting the vegetable side, you pitied the concubines. Only the gods know what act she is forcing Hongjoong and Seonghwa to perform for her. 
You wished you could help them. You wished you could help a lot of people.
***
A/N: I freaking love historical aus, don't you?? I know this probably isn't a 100% accurate, but I tried to get as close as possible while still mixing in a fictional realm. I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter <3 feel free to like and reblog, it keeps posts alive!!
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myung-heee · 6 months
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manipulation c.yj
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kinktober: day 9 + manipulation
pairings: yeonjun x f!reader
warnings: manipulator!yeonjun x (kinda) innocent!reaader, manipulation, unprotected, (noncon at first), oral (f receiving), missionary
yeonjun is your closest friend since high school, both of you are complete opposites. he was popular, athletic, and had good grades, making him every girl's ideal type. Well, you can't blame them. yeonjun is a total package, embodying everything one could desire in a guy. he's like the living standard of a man.
both of you are quite close, and the reason why he was close to you and never broke your friendship remained a mystery to you and the other students around you. imagine being friends with the most idolized man on your campus while you consider yourself just a potato. however, yeonjun doesn't see you that way!! he views you as a cute potato.. (lol) he likes you as a woman, as a lady. he just hasn't found the right time to tell you
on the other hand, there's kai, your new friend who recently transferred to your class. initially, yeonjun didn't pay much attention; he would casually greet kai with a smile or a simple 'hi' whenever they crossed paths.
your friendship with kai seemed to flourish as yeonjun got busier with his basketball practices.
"let's hang out at my place," yeonjun approached you while you were sitting at your desk, copying the notes kai had lent you. you looked up at him and said shortly, "sorry, can't," before returning your attention to your notebook.
he raised a brow and asked, "can't? why? do you have something important coming up today?" he replied, "yeah, I'll be studying with kai," you said without even glancing at him. his expression faded, and he scoffed, "kai? the new guy, huh?"
"are you replacing me, y/n?" he asked. You looked up at him, trying to find a joke in his expression, but he seemed genuinely serious, gripping his towel, eyes fixed on you. "it's just one time.. i can always hang out with you, you know?" you explained. he sighed and looked away. "that's the point—just one time. this is the first time you don't want to hang out with me and choose someone you met just weeks ago?" his voice grew louder, drawing a few glances from your classmates. you sighed and looked around.
"jun, let's talk about this tomorrow. i have something to do," you said, showing him your notes. he just scoffed, wiped his face with the towel, and walked away. Before he could leave the classroom, he said, "i'll see you at the gate after class. i won't take no for an answer," and left.
your brows furrowed as you were about to say something, but the door had already closed. you sighed, put down your notes, and placed kai's notebook on his empty desk.
you told kai you weren't able to study with him tonight because something urgent came up. luckily for you, kai didn't actually mind it and told you that it was all fine.
you smiled at him. after class, you went to the gate right where yeonjun told you to. you saw him on his phone, a basketball on the side of his waist, and he had a towel hanging over his shoulder. you cleared your throat; he immediately looked in your direction and smiled, putting his phone in his pocket and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
"i really thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore," he chuckled. you looked down. he was your only close friend, so of course, you would choose him over anyone else.
you had been debating with yourself earlier about whether you would hang out with him or kai, then a thought came to your mind. yeonjun was a popular guy, yet he chose to be friends with you. you felt bad, so you thought that maybe you had to choose him too.
"well, you're my best friend... why wouldn't i hang out with you?" you smiled. he patted your head. "i am your only best friend, so you'll choose me over anyone, okay?" he whispered. you nodded.
"that's what i thought," he smiled. you looked at him, confused about what he meant, but you just brushed it off. as you arrived at his home, his parents were there, and you greeted them.
"we'll just study together," he said and guided you upstairs into his room.
as you entered his room, you immediately made your way into his desk. you put your bag on the table and sat on his gaming chair. his eyes were fixated on you. "do you really think we'll study?" he chuckled. you furrowed your brows and threw a glance at him. "wait, we won't?" you asked in a confused tone.
 
he put his towel on the doorknob before clicking the lock. "yeah.. we'll hang out, remember?" he smiles innocently. you looked over at the doorknob, confused about why he locked the door.
 
when he saw your doubting expression, he slightly scratched the back of his neck and looked at you. "i just wanna have some privacy, so i could make up for the time i should've been with you instead of my practices," he sighed. you slightly nodded. "it wasn't your fault though.. besides, we're best friends, it doesn't really matter. it's not like i am your girl or anything," you said quietly.
 
best friends. he smiled at that word.
"yeah, best friends," he replied. you smiled and stood up. "what should we do then? we aren't going to study, right?" you asked. "do you want to play games? multiplayer?" you continued.
 
he shook his head.
 
"there's, uh, thoughts in my mind that i want to ask out loud, but at the same time, i can't" he softly said. you tilted your head in confusion. "what is it? Tell me, I'm your friend," you smiled.
 
"yeah, that's why I can't tell you because you're just my friend," he sighed. you stared at him for seconds. not knowing what to say. "what.. should i do then?" you asked, his face lit up like a candle. smiling at your response as if it were the exact words he wanted to hear from you.
"are you sure you can do anything i'll ask?" he raised a brow, making his way towards you.
 
you slightly nodded; you trusted him. so why not?
"you know.. you've been spending a lot of time with kai, and it makes me.. jealous." he sighes. he stops walking. he's in front of you, towering over you. you looked up at his tall figure.
 
"you feel jealous?" you asked, confused. he nodded.
 
"yeah." he places his hands on your chin and looks at your eyes deeply. "i wonder if he's being this close to you." his voice sounds like it's hypnotising.
 
you immediately shook your head. "n-no.. he doesn't," you said. he chuckles. "he better be," he says, lowering his head. "you won't let him, right?" he whispers in your ears.
 
"no," you shortly said. "good girl," he said as he kissed your temple. "that's what i thought, hmm?" he smiled.
 
you nodded. with each second, you grew more desperate and needy for your best friend. all the signs of battling from your thoughts that he was just a friend disappeared. every word that leaves his mouth feels like music to your ears.
 
"i know you like me, y/n, so why don't you show how much you do?" he held your shoulders and sat you on the bed
"h-huh? right now?" you asked, confused. you held his arm and shook your head. "we can't.. your parents are downstairs." you whispered.
 
"let's just be quiet and quick," he said reassuringly. he gently kissed your neck down to your shoulders, your hands holding on to his shirt.
 
"wait—"
 
you said, stopping him from removing your shirt. halfway through it, he paused and looked at you. he can see that you were hesitant.. you were about to say something, but he cuts you. "don't you trust me? come on, y/n.. i'll take care of you. hmm? you'll love this," he confidently said, kissing your nose before completely removing your shirt.
 
he traces soft kisses on your shoulders, leaving soft marks. "trust me, okay?" he said softly. he cupped your clothed chest and massaged it softly before removing your bra. you blushed, feeling all shy and embarrassed.
 
"you're so pretty," he whispered, giving both of your chests equal attention, sucking and licking, leaving bite marks all over them.
 
he knelt on the bed and pushed you on the mattress, back touching the comfortable sheets. he rubbed his palm against your inner thighs. you're still wearing your denim shorts.
 
he was about to pull them down when you stopped him again, holding his arm. "wait—i don't think—" you were stopped when you met his eyes; his eyes are dark, staring into you. he seemed to be losing his patience now.
 
"don't act like you didn't do these with kai. Such a whore." his words hit like a brick as he pulled your shorts down. you rubbed your legs together, and you knew deep down that you didn't want this at all. but you can't do anything. you like him, and you trust him.
 
you bit your lips as you felt his finger rubbing your clothed sensitive spot. you've never felt this way before, not with your best friend.
 
you gasped when you felt him pull down your panty, revealing your wet core. he laughed softly when you covered your face embarrassingly.
 
"cute"
 
he said before completely diving into your wet entrance, covering your mouth to muffle your moans, the other hand gripping to his sheets.
 
"kids! dinner's ready!" your body froze as you heard his mom shout from downstairs. your brain is getting fuzzy. your eyes shut, you force yourself not to moan so hard.
 
"yeonjun," you moaned his name quietly, making him look up, his mouth still on your entrance. your eyes met, you could see how his jaws move up and down and the way he eats you out.
 
he groans, and he can tell that you're getting close. and he has a bad idea. as you were about to release, he removed his mouth from your core, your hips chasing his mouth. you whined at the sudden loss of pleasure. "junnie." you glanced at him, brows furrowed.
 
he chuckled at the view. he ran his fingers through his hair before lowering his sweatpants, just on his thigh. he took out his hard erection. you were about to say something but were stopped when you felt him rub his shaft against your wet pussy.
 
when he entered his shadt inside you, you couldn't help but whine. "hnggg!" you whine loud enough that both of you stopped at the same touch, eyes meeting with each other full of lust.
the surroundings were all quiet until you heard him chuckle, "keep quiet for me, y/n." he kissed your forehead and pushed himself deeper.
as he found his pace, he began thrusting fast enough that you could hear the bed creaking. your brows furrowed, hands on your mouth, and the other one is holding his arm.
you were so lost in pleasure, yet you remained conscious, forcing yourself not to release a sound.
"fuck. im near, fuck!" he groans. you shook your head. "please pull out," you said quietly.
the case is that he won't come unless you go first. he held it in and began thrusting harder and faster, hissing. "come on, cum for me," he said desperately.
you can feel yourself getting closer and closer until a wave of pleasure hits your body, making you moan out loud. yeonjun immediately covers your mouth and chuckles. "shh.. you're taking me so well," he says, still fucking you through your orgasm.
he closed his eyes and pulled out, exactly as his seed spurted out on your thigh.
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latenighttalking00 · 6 months
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A Work of Art
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader
Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.
Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.
Word Count: 2k
Author's Note: Hi! This is my first time writing, so apologies if it's a bit rough; English isn't my native language. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!
Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.
As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.
As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.
"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.
"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.
"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."
You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.
You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.
Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.
Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.
Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.
He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.
He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.
“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.
So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.
As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.
“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in
his family home.
“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.
Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.
“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.
“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.
Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.
As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.
Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face
“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.
time skip
Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.
While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.
“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.
“Repeat what you said.” he orders
“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.
“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face
You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”
Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.
“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.
Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.
he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”
“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.
The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.
“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”
“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.
He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.
Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.
The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”
He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”
He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.
Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”
A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)
724 notes · View notes
marvelousmando · 1 year
Text
"The Game is Afoot, Indeed"
Sherlock x Reader
A/N: So here's my first attempt at a one shot - the idea for this popped into my head not too long after watching Enola Holmes 2. Hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: None! Pure fluff with a sprinkle of mutual pining. Reader is wearing a dress.
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"Here we are," Sherlock said after you exited the carriage, walking up to the side of the building to peer through the nearest window.
Looking around with awe at the large home decorated with beautiful flowers and twinkling lights, you wished for a moment that you were here to enjoy the lively music and celebrate like the other guests. You could see them through the window, dressed in all their finery, dancing the night away.
Taking a breath to clear your mind and focus on the task at hand, you looked around the corner to the front of the building. More guests were lined up outside along a winding path, and - yes, as you looked closer - were holding slips of paper in their hands.
"Alright! This is simple. All I need is one of those invitations," you exclaimed with a mischievous grin, turning towards him. "So, what's the mystery item you're after?"
His dark brows immediately furrowed.
"You're not taking it."
You crossed your arms and stared back in disbelief.
"Are you serious?"
"This item that I am taking is of high value to my case. It is not something I can entrust in anyone's hands but my own," Sherlock stated matter of factly. "I will slip in, break into the viscount's office, grab it, and slip back out."
You let out a soft snort.
"Sherlock, we are at a ball. Do you really expect me to believe that you won't be attention grabbing?" you said while studying the crowd through the window again. "There are a great deal of ladies in there with what looks to be barely any gentlemen. All the ladies will be constantly surveying the dance floor for their next match, waiting to sink their claws into the most eligible bachelor, and you are so very …"
Your words trailed off. You pressed your lips together, with a blushing glance back at Sherlock.
He returned your gaze, waiting, his features painted with slight curiosity.
"... tall," you finished lamely.
Silence.
A heated tension gathered between you both.
After a few moments, Sherlock released a small smirk.
Clearing your throat and breaking eye contact, you continued on, "The point being, I would attract far less attention, and as you know, I have plenty of experience breaking and entering, among other things."
Sherlock stepped towards you.
"Two things. First of all, that was a one-time occurrence that will never happen again. You caught me on a very rare, off day." Still moving closer, he finally stopped, with barely any space remaining. A quiet gasp escaped your lips, drawing his eyes to the source of the sound.
"Second of all," his voice lowering into a gentle tone, "how could you ever think that you would not be the most eye-catching woman in that ballroom?"
Lifting his hand to turn your face up towards his, you could feel your stomach doing somersaults. Resting your hands on the sides of his coat, you began to lose yourself in his deep blue eyes, framed with the most -
-"Even if you're not … tall, was it?" he teased, interrupting your runaway thoughts.
You huffed, glaring at him while taking a step back, causing Sherlock to drop his hand.
He immediately offered his arm. Upon taking it, you two strolled over to the front to join the moving guest line.
"So what exactly is my purpose in accompanying you this evening, if not for helping you with your case?" you questioned with a raised brow while waiting for your turn along the path.
"You are simply my date,'' he answered. You immediately opened your mouth in retort. Before you could pose another objection against him, he smoothly continued, "I don't deny your skills, but I believe your beauty will attract too much attention for you to break into the office successfully."
A smile broke out on your face at his attempt at flattery with a double compliment. He watched you closely as it slowly turned into a more sly expression.
"Well, I guess that just means I'll need a big distraction." By this time, you and Sherlock were a bit closer to the head of the line, with a few more guests waiting behind you.
In a loud voice, you suddenly gasped and stared at him in pretend shock, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe it! You're Sherlock Holmes!"
Not a second had passed and the guests ahead and behind craned their heads to get a look at the famous "Sherlock Holmes" who was attending the party.
Stunned into silence, Sherlock stared at you as you pulled out two invitations you had hidden within your dress. His mind flashed back to the heated moment you shared at the side of the building, when your hands had rested right by his coat pockets. At least he wasn't wrong about your skills, he thought.
Murmurs began to break out amongst the guests remaining in line, staring more openly at him.
"What's the item?" you asked again. "If you tell me, I'll give you back your invitation," you offered with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.
He sighed in defeat.
"It's a silver compass with a chain. Engraved on it are the letters, H E G." He held out his hand impatiently for his invitation, as people were beginning to break away from their spots in line to talk to Sherlock.
"I didn't say when I'd give it back," you laughed, moving farther away as more and more people approached him and started to surround him. "You're Sherlock Holmes, you'll get in!"
He wasn't worried, he knew everything would be fine with your level of talent and capable hands. Lately, Enola had been telling him that he needed to be better about giving up control when it came to working with others. He guessed this was as good a start as any.
Sherlock couldn't help but admire your cunning and quick thinking as he watched you hand the invitation over to the footman, shooting a quick glance and flirtatious grin back at him as you entered the ballroom scene.
Hardly listening to the people now crowding around him and attempting to introduce themselves, he returned the smile as a thought entered his mind.
He would just have to get to the compass first.
"The game is afoot, indeed."
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thedevilspatronstf · 3 months
Text
the devil's lounge
There are some people who are drowning in bad luck, just like Peter. Working in an office job he hates, all of his girlfriends abandon him after a few weeks, if they even get to that point, and, of course, money issues.
He met a beautiful girl on Tinder, saved so much money to take her out on a fancy date, bought some new clothes, and went to a hairstylist, but at the end of the day, she didn't even show up. Instead, she ghosted him.
Pissed, disappointed, and just done with the day, he makes his way through town. With barely fifty dollars in his new jacket, he had only one goal: to get wasted and forget everything and everyone around him. Checking his phone one last time, he sighs. Maybe she texted him after all, but nothing.
He even checked Instagram, but nothing. All he saw were other people, happier people, living their best lives while he was suffering. That's when he nearly walked into somebody else—a pretty young woman.
Peter smiled politely and excused himself, but she just scoffed and walked away. "Fuck off." He thought when his eyes fell on a bright white light.
'The devil's lounge'
His eyes wandered to a big, dark house—a hotel, to be precise—with huge black doors and its name in golden letters hanging above them. Peter had heard of this place before, a well-known place for people to close contracts. The place to do business—legal or illegal—didn't matter at all. He himself had not been there before, but he knew it was more than just a simple hotel.
"Fuck it." He shrugged. What other place can you just get wasted?
Two big security guys dressed in black suits, white shirts, and sunglasses—it's not even that sunny—opened the huge doors for him. He never felt that important, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
So many people were inside the lobby—well-dressed people, probably rich people—and he felt out of place. Who cares if he draws so many eyes to him? Peter was just here to drink some fancy beverages.
A young man looked at him and tried to hide his confusion, but at least he acted like Peter wasn't growing a second head.
"What can I get you, sir?" The bartender asked with a polite face.
"Tequila shots, however many I get for this." Peter emptied his pocket on the counter, much to the man's irritation.
"Fine." The man counted the money and brought him three shots of tequila.
Peter immediately emptied two of them and shook his head. How did he even get into this situation? Another day lost to work and a failed date.
"Fuck." He growled and steadied his head, his hands covering his face. What would he give to just be somebody else, to leave this life behind him?
"Whiskey, on the rocks." A deep voice echoed through him, and he felt someone taking the seat right next to him. All the other seats were empty, yet he chose the one right next to Peter.
"Look, I had a really bad day, and I don't need someone invading..." He said that and lifted his head, but what he saw made him stop in his tracks.
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He was a good-looking man, wearing a tailored suit, vest, and tie. The guy turned his head and caught Peter's eyes. His gaze was so intense, it sent shivers down his entire back.
"I am sorry." He stuttered, but the other guy didn't even respond. Instead, he just took a sip from his drink before he turned his entire body toward Peter.
"You don't belong here." He said, his eyes wandering all over Peter's body, judging his clothes, his hair, and everything else at once, causing his face to turn bright red.
"I can help you with that." The man's voice was deep and rough, and his gaze was growing more intense by the second.
"Clothes don't make people. You can't make me a new man." Peter was able to pull his eyes away and manage to avoid the guy's burning gaze for just a few seconds before their eyes met again.
Amused, the man smiled and took another sip from his drink. "I can't?" He raised an eyebrow and reached for Peter's chest, who pulled away, but it was a little too late.
As soon as the man's hand landed on his chest, he felt a burning sensation erupt inside his stomach.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He said it, but it wasn't his voice leaving his mouth. It was a much deeper, manlier voice—a voice he always dreamed of having.
"Is that..me?" Peter's voice broke and turned back to normal when the man pulled his hand away.
Satisfied, the man smirked. "It could be." He growled deeply and emptied the glass before he got up. "You just have to change."
"Wait? Who are you?" Peter reached for the man's arm, but he just glared at him. He immediately pulled away and felt grounded.
"People call me Ludwig." The man fixed his suit and let one hand slide down his firm chest. "If you're interested in what I can offer?" He said, but before he could finish, Peter interrupted him.
"I am! Can you change me?" His breath quickened rapidly, but Ludwig seemed unbothered.
"Not here; follow me." He motioned for Peter to get up and lead him toward the elevator.
Peter had so many questions, but somehow he didn't dare ask them right here and now. Instead, they entered the huge elevator. Together, they arrived on the sixth floor.
He followed Ludwig closely to a penthouse-like room with huge windows, several armchairs, glass tables, and a gigantic desk. It was way bigger than his actual apartment, and he was looking around in awe.
"So huge." He said, much to Ludwig's amusement.
"Take a seat." He nodded toward an armchair in front of him as he sat down as well.
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A little bewildered, Peter sat down and looked at the well-dressed man just spreading his legs, being way more comfortable than himself.
Ludwig just watched him as his whole body tensed more and more. Was it possible for this man to actually change himself? Or was he just drunk, stupid, and naive?
"Ehm." Peter stuttered again.
"Yes, I can help you." Ludwig cut him off, resting both of his hands on his huge thighs.
"But how did you do that?" He said, but once the suit man raised a finger, his voice changed again—just like before at the bar.
Shocked, Peter touched his own neck, unable to process what was happening to him. His throat was a little sore; it didn't hurt, but it was a weird feeling.
"Who are you?" He said it in his deep voice, intrigued yet scared. Was he a real wizard? Or an angel? Someone was sent by God to help him.
Amused, Ludwig smirked before he licked his lips. "I don't kiss and tell." He growled and ran a hand through his nicely-done hair, causing Peter's throat to turn back to normal. "Are you interested or not?"
Peter nodded quickly and felt his entire being vibrating. "I need to become someone else! I can't handle one more day living this life."
Intrigued himself, Ludwig leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "There is just one thing." He said it in a softer voice, yet his expression was so firm. "We haven't discussed the subject of payment."
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The man leaned back and placed one hand on his thighs, while he touched his own lips with the other, running a finger through his groomed beard.
Panicking, Peter looked around, thinking deeply. "I don't have any money. I just spent all of my savings on this stupid outfit!" He looked down at himself, wearing pretty clothes that were ill-fitting and not flattering at all.
"I don't need your money." Ludwig's voice cut through the room and forced him to freeze. "I want you to work for me." He tilted his head teasingly, stroking his enormous bulge with his hand.
"Work? Like what?" Peter's voice was even higher than usual, as he was still panicking. This was his only way to make his dream come true; he couldn't afford to leave like this.
"You'll be one of my contractors." Ludwig regained his composure and leaned forward again. "You see, I'm a very busy man, and I don't have all day to look for clients." He shrugged.
"That's....all?" Peter looked at Ludwig in disbelief. Just closing contracts? That's easy. He's been working for a huge company doing that already, just on a very small scale.
"If that's easy for you." Ludwig's face was unfazed and stoney, but his eyes and his lips were so alluring, like the forbidden fruit. "What do you say?"
Incapable of forming a coherent thought, Peter just smiled widely. "I think we got a deal. Where do I sign?" He said, but the gorgeous man just starred at him; his gaze was again so intense, and Peter was unable to move a muscle.
That's when he experienced a sudden force taking over his body. His head grew heavy as he got up from the chair. Everything was spinning, twisting, and turning; just one thing was completely unbothered: Ludwig.
The man got up from the chair as well and walked toward Peter. "Who needs a signature if I have this?" His eyes were covered by a black mist, so dark it was all consuming. 
Afraid, Peter tried to turn back and run away, but he couldn't move. His head and his whole body were hurting, aching from the pressure put upon them. He watched Ludwig lean in as he placed both of his hands on Peter's chest.
Instantly, a seething flame erupted in his whole upper body, causing so much pain.
"Just tell me who you want to be." Ludwig's voice was so rough, even deeper than before, and it had a mesmerizing rhythm to it.
He kissed Peter softly and breathed into him, filling his lungs and every fiber of his body with the same dark smoke engulfing his eyes.
Peter's body turned numb, vibrating insanely, as Ludwig pulled away and let go of his chest.
Seemingly pushed away, light as a feather, Peter's body moved toward the huge, king-sized bed. He dropped on to it, his head facing the ceiling, and closed his eyes.
"Who do I want to be?" He thought, searching his mind for an answer.
That's when he saw an image—more and more images of the same guy—a handsome Instagrammer he saw earlier.
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Was he the right pick? Or should he think about it more? But some part of him clinged to this man—so pretty, hot, and seemingly carefree.
Peter envied him, and every fiber of his body focused on becoming this man.
"So be it." Ludwig's voice echoed through him, and what happened next was incredible.
Peter's being tensed harder than ever before as he clawed at the sheets underneath him. The fire burning underneath his skin spread farther into every corner of his body until it reached his fingertips, his toes, and his forehead.
Peter let out a pain-ridden growl when he felt his muscles growing bigger, bigger, and bigger. He, as a whole, grew bigger, and his clothes—his jacket, shirt, and jeans—weren't able to withstand this pressure. They vanished in an instant, exposing his thick tummy and pale skin.
He was able to open his eyes for just a second and look down at his chest. It felt like the fire was burning even brighter, as his skin flushed with color and his entire chest was condensed into a beautiful six-pack and thick pecs.
It was so painful, yet the most sensational feeling at the same time.
Peter leaned his head back and let out a long, guttural moan, and his voice started to change as well. It turned deeper, more masculine, but still so melodic and soft.
More and more moans escaped his mouth as he felt his muscles defining his thighs and calves. His muscles turned hard right away as waves of pure plessure swung through every bone inside his body.
Peter grabbed himself just in time for him to feel his junk extend largely. It pressed against the palm of his hand, filling his underwear fully.
Instinctively, he started to touch himself, play with himself, and enjoy every second of it.
His mind was unable to comprehend anything that was happening, but yet, it felt so, so good.
Then, his face started to change as well. His jawline got more defined, beautiful dark hair formed a beard, replacing his eyebrows, and his usual mat hair formed pretty curls.
Jerking off, he bit his lower lip, holding back an exhausted groan, but then he just let go. All of him gave in to this pressure and pleasure as he shot one load after another. It felt so much better to cum inside this pretty new body.
As fast as it erupted, the fire burned out, leaving an exhausted Peter lying on this huge bed. Peter was breathing so fast that he was nearly unable to catch a break, but after a few more seconds, he managed to move his new form.
He got up and walked toward the main room, only to find Ludwig sitting in his chair again, tilting his head at the sight of the barely dressed 'new' Peter.
That's when he saw himself for the first time in a mirror.
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"Is that...me?" He growled deeply, still shocked by his new voice.
"Don't you like it?" Ludwig said he was kind of displeased with the possibility of him not liking his new body.
"No, god no." He said it quickly, still stuttering slightly. "It's so beautiful."
Peter moved around, inspecting every corner and every angle of his new self. He flexed hard, smiled, and touched himself so much.
It felt good to feel his own pecs bulge, his defined abs tense, and his huge dick pulsate inside his underwear.
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"It really looks like him." He said it proudly. "The guy from Instagram." Peter enjoyed seeing his reflection move just as he did. It looked like he spent most of his life in gyms instead of online forums.
"It's because it is—the guy from Instagram." Ludwig mocked his tone, his expression shifting, just cold.
Confused, Peter turned around. "What?"
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Ludiwg rolled his eyes. "I claimed his body, and I gave it to you." He motioned toward that pretty body in front of him. "Our deal, remember?"
"Fuck." Peter said, his conscious slowly taking over his mind. "I didn't know."
Ludwig leaned back against the chair, stroking his own member again. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does!" Peter shouted at Ludwig, who, unbothered, just waved lazily.
This caused some force to knock Peter off his feat, and he barely steadied himself against the hard wooden floor. He was kneeling right in front of Ludwig, who was towering over him like he was sitting on an actual throne.
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"Hearing your cries amused me, so I let your sudden rush of confidence slide. Once." He said, his voice deeper again. "I can turn you back, if you care so much."
With a snap, Peter's hand started to burn again, and he could see his old ones form once again. "Please...no.." He cried out, actual tears leaving his now-pretty eyes.
With another wave, the burning stopped.
"Know your place, fool." Ludwig said, extremely pissed. "Look at me." He used the tip of his shoe to lift Peter's head.
"You will close 15 contracts each month. No less. Otherwise, I will just turn you back." Peter was unable to move; Ludwig's presence engulfed the whole room, causing him to whimper.
"15? Where do I find so many?" Barely a whisper left his lips.
"Just find desperate, pathetic people like you and offer them a deal with me." Ludwig rumbled and let go of Peter's chin.
With another wave, a notebook formed out of dense smoke. "Write their names down, and I will finish the deal."
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"Should be easy enough." Ludwig smiled mockingly, and ran a hand through Peter's new hair. "For such a pretty face."
"How....how do I get contracts?" Peter said, scared.
"Charm them, fuck them." Ludwig yanked his head back. "Use this body I gave you. I dont care."
He got up from the throne and fixed his suit.
Peter admired his physique, but wondered if he was the actual devil.
"This will be your new home." He turned around, and suddenly Peter was able to move again.
"Thaank... Thank you, sir." He stuttered. What if he was the devil? He didn't dare ask.
"And get dressed." He snapped his fingers again, and dark smoke was forming around Peter's body.
A beautiful tailored blue suit formed out of thin air, but he couldn't enjoy it at all. He was way too scared to show any emotion in front of Ludwig.
"Yes sir." He nodded.
Ludwig turned around one last time to look at Peter with a smirk on his lips.
"Don't disappoint me."
A shiver ran down his entire back again before he left the apartment.
With one last look at himself, he regretted his choice.
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miinatozakiii · 6 months
Text
have we met before?
myoui mina x fem!reader ; fluff, angst
synopsis: you and mina are destined to meet in every universe, it’s fate, it’s inevitable—but that doesn’t mean the circumstances are always ideal for the two of you.
warnings: mentions of food
wc: 5.5k
♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬
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a/n: based on those silly little drawings on tiktok that also have my heart screaming and crying bc they're so cute but sad for no reason like stop pls you're just a silly little stick man why am i sobbing
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“do you think we know each other in every universe?” you ask in a small voice, almost a whisper.
mina turns her head to face you, you’re still looking up at the ceiling, breathing slowly. “what kind of question is that?” mina responds, laughing lowly from the sudden inquiry.
“i don’t know, I saw it online,” you start, turning to meet her gaze—squishing your cheek against the mattress in the process. “something about people meeting in other lives and universes, it was pretty interesting.” you add sleepily.
mina’s arm moves to settle down on your shoulder while you lay on the bed facing each other. you look at her with a tired, warm gaze through weighted eyelids. mina softly drags her knuckles over your skin, it makes you sigh contentedly.
“so what do you think?” you press again.
mina just smiles at you and uses her fingers to push loose, messy hair away from your face. you hum groggily in response and lean into her touch.
“i’d hope so.” mina murmurs, looking at your drowsy state.
she takes a moment to fully take in your presence, then presses a kiss against your forehead.
“me too.” you agree, resting your hand over her knuckles.
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in this universe mina has just moved into the city, relishing the beautiful, new environment as she strolls around the area.
there’s a couple to her right across the street. they hold hands and swing them gently while they laugh and gaze at each other lovingly—mina smiles at the sight.
mina spots a small restaurant from her peripheral vision, something about the plants growing around it catches her eye, as well as the simple design and lights in the front. she walks towards it, fixing her loose, gray shirt.
she watches a woman step out the restaurant, and that woman is remarkably appealing. the woman kneels down to pet the calico cat that sits in front of the calatheas plant, the woman’s thumb rubs the top of its head, earning a pleased purr.
the woman fetches a small can of water, quickly tending to the plants by watering them, and inspecting them a bit after.
mina makes her way over and catches the attention of the waitress in the apron—the same woman who had tended to the plants. She turns and smiles immediately at mina, setting the can down and greeting her.
“hi, can i help you?” she asks. the woman’s voice is enchanting, it’s soft and welcoming.
mina nods then eyes the rest of the restaurant, it’s quite cozy.
“yes, do you serve lunch?” mina asks.
“yes ma’am, come on in, i can find a seat for you. it’s not too busy at the moment.” the woman says, urging mina to follow her, “there’s only our regulars here at the moment, many empty seats for a lovely lady like you.” mina’s lips curve upward from the unexpected compliment.
the woman leads her to a little table near the window, a small pot occupies it and it holds a healthy-looking fern in it. the waitress hands the menu over to her with both hands—which mina accepts gracefully.
“i’m y/n,” you start, “i’ll be your waitress. i’ll be back in a couple of minutes, take your time.”
what a wonderful name.
when you return, mina has picked out what she would like to order. you approach the table with your signature grin—one mina finds very captivating, sweet, and cute. she has trouble keeping her eyes off your lips for a moment.
“ready to order miss?”
“yes. may i have a bowl of the glass noodles?” mina asks. you nod and started to write on the small notepad in your hand.
“yes ma’am, anything else?”
“green tea would be great.”
“alright. by the way, the glass noodles come with a side dish, any protein on the menu-“ you point to the protein options on the menu with your pen, “there.”
mina reads through the options: salmon, tuna, mushrooms, tofu, chicken, beef, shrimp, and pork.
“what would you recommend?” mina questions, making you think to yourself for a bit.
“my favorites are the tofu, it’s seasoned very well. you can never go wrong with tuna or salmon either, but those are just my preferences. all the protein choices are wonderful.”
“i’ll take the tofu then.”
“alright. so, japchae with a side of tofu and some green tea for the pretty lady in the corner.” you say as you charmingly smile at mina, “will that be all?”
mina giggles at your boldness, nodding. “do you always flirt with customers?”
“only the pretty ones that catch my eye—you’re the first to do so.” you admit.
“i’m flattered, y/n.” mina responds. you smile brightly from how she uses your name, and because she’s tolerant of your stupid flirting.
You giggle. “your order will be ready in a bit. i’ll make sure to pull at the chefs strings to have it out as quick as possible.” you say, “anything to satisfy the lovely lady.”
mina laughs at your comment then rests her chin on her palm. “thanks waiter.”
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you arrive ten minutes later and snap mina out of her daydreaming, she’s been staring at the window and watching the people of the city pass by. she could get quite comfortable knowing that a lovely waiter is within a one-mile radius.
“your japchae and tofu, as well as your tea.” you beam, setting down her hot tea and meal.
mina smiles and the aroma of the food pleases her senses, so does the waiter’s delightful presence. the food smells wonderful, it looks delicious too. you nod at her before scurrying to help out the group of elderly men at the other side of the restaurant, they pat your shoulder and make you giggle. seems like your presence is something that everyone is fond of.
as you swiftly run a hand through your tousled hair, the lines of your face come into sharper focus, accentuating your features. the black apron around your waist becomes slightly taut as you tighten it, giving mina a glimpse of your punctilious nature. you reach for a soft rag and press it firmly against the worn wooden surface. the tendons in your forearm flex with each wipe, they’re quite toned.
mina's gaze lingers on your arm, drawn to the dainty tattoo adorning your wrist. it’s a subtle flower-like design, its colors blending seamlessly with your skin—mina thinks it’s cute.
but it's not just your appearance that intrigues her. there's something intangible about you, an inexplicable familiarity that fogs up her mind. in the short span of thirty minutes, you’ve managed to create a tranquil atmosphere around her with the help of your dorky charm.
it's as if you have a unique ability to make her feel instantly at home, even though she can't recall ever meeting you before. the way you carry yourself so casually, the kindness and warmth that radiate from you, all contribute to this puzzling connection she feels.
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you hand mina the check after she finishes up, the price is not bad at all. you grab her bowl, small plate, and tea cup, balancing them effortlessly on one hand.
“can i pay with cash?”
“of course, let me put these dishes in the back. you can pay up at the register since it’s cash.” you respond, departing temporarily.
mina shuffles through her purse and pulls out a few bills, making sure to tip you generously for your wonderful service and lovely charm. she walks over to the register, you’re behind the counter with a strand of hair falling over your face and tapping at the screen.
“your total is fifteen hundred yen.” you say. mina hands you twenty-five hundred, making you raise your brows in surprise.
“i liked your service.” mina shrugs, bashfully avoiding eye contact. she puts her wallet back into her purse, and explains, “i just moved into the city, i’m really glad i ran into someone as sweet as you on my first day.”
you grin and feel a warmth spread across your cheeks, “is that so? i’m glad. i hope you like it here, i’d love for you to visit again. i wouldn’t complain if a beauty like you were a regular.”
mina’s lips turn, it’s hard for her to make eye contact with you. a small laugh leaves your lips as you take the money she had slid across the counter, carefully handling it then placing fifteen hundred yen in the register, and putting a thousand in the tip jar.
you beam at her again, “thank you, have a great day miss.”
“it’s mina.” she corrects politely, “my name is mina.”
“pretty name. fits you.” you respond, ears growing pink. mina laughs and waves at you with a gummy smile—it’s adorable and you want to see it again and again. butterflies flutter in your stomach from the sight of it. the elegant woman with the cute beauty marks walks towards the door, and as you sense this fleeting moment, your eyes search frantically for something that’ll have mina trudging back in the future.
spotting a pen and napkin nearby, you swiftly reach out, snatching them up in your trembling hand and scribbling a string of numbers on it.
mina steps outside and takes in the scenery of the restaurant, it fits the lovely, calm neighborhood that it occupies.
“wait! mina!” a voice calls out. she turns and spots you, rushing out the door and settling yourself in front of her.
you hand her the napkin you scribbled on. “this is my number, i’d love to get to know you more.” you say timidly as mina takes the dainty piece of paper.
“you’re cute.” mina boldly states, laughing softly, “this place isn’t far from my apartment, and the food is good. there might be a new regular here soon.”
“perfect.” you hum.
“thank you for the food, i’ll see you again.”
“see you, mina.”
a tender silence envelops both of you as you exchange a knowing glance, the unspoken connection blooming with a newfound sweetness. something about mina seems oddly familiar, weirdly comforting—you’re not one to flirt so easily, but the words had just spewed out your mouth every time you talked to her.
you wonder: maybe you know her in another universe, you remember hearing about that theory from one of the elderly customers. maybe you’re good friends someplace else—maybe more.
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in another universe, a complex web of fate had merged your brother, jun, with mina—a princess from a kingdom that held tensions with your own. their marriage seemed to hold the promise of easing the strained relations between the two kingdoms.
jun, the epitome of the stereotypical prince, perfectly fit into the mold. women swooned over him and he possessed the necessary “princely” skills, he seemed to have it all. however, beneath his "charming” exterior lay a massive ego, pissy attitude, and a small, smooth, and pathetic brain. he carried himself as superior to you, despite his cowardice and controversial morals.
as for yourself, in this royal universe, you were less recognized compared to your stingy brother, but still held a significant position. while you may have lacked certain attributes expected from a princess, it honestly mattered very little since you weren’t in line to inherit the throne (you didn’t like the thought of all that work anyway, so you were relieved.)
a generous freedom was granted to you, which allowed you to develop an intellect that your brother desperately needed, and a great personality compared to the prick of a prince. admittedly, you possessed a prominent physical beauty, attracting numerous suitors, but they often drew back after realizing you weren’t just a stupid, submissive woman who they could boss and fuck around with.
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you had first seen mina at the altar while she was getting married to your brother—a fate so cruel it makes you want to object, especially only hearing that she’s a soft-spoken, kind soul—according to your father.
something about her seemed oddly familiar, even as you watched from afar. she turned towards you only once, and you made eye contact in that brief moment. your brows creased when your heart recognized her, yearning for an odd reason. she turned back to face jun and you ignored the sensation in your chest, figuring that the feeling in your heart might’ve been the sorrow you had for this newlywed: princess mina.
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you never have dinner at the same time as your brother, so you’ve never had dinner with the new addition to your kingdom. though this changes when jun is sent away for the night (for whatever “princely” reason, you don’t know, and neither do you care.)
you’re seated across from your brother’s wife, and this is the first time you’ve seen her up close and in person. she’s beautiful.
you find yourself captivated by mina's ethereal beauty, unable to tear your eyes away from her radiant presence. every curve and line of her face is a testament to perfection, leaving you marveling in awe.
mina’s features are more than attractive, they’re perfect—no painter could ever capture the full glow of her visuals. her lips look so soft, the way her silky, dark hair effortlessly flows down her shoulders makes you yearn to run your fingers through them, losing yourself in their silky texture. as she gracefully picks up a piece of salmon, the way she chews it delicately, you can't help but be captivated by her composure and grace—damn, you think, she even eats elegantly.
when mina’s eyes meet yours, you shyly look away at the strangely flustering eye contact, feeling nervous for whatever reason.
most women would feel a bit insecure, self-conscious, and maybe even intimidated in your situation. however, all you feel is an unspeakable attraction from your brother’s wife, which has got to be messy.
It gets messier when mina looks at you while you avoid eye contact, and you quickly pretend to be busy by gracefully picking up a piece of salmon and chewing it like a princess should (because mina is right in front of you).
mina observes you, her eyes filled with a deep curiosity while she tries to sneak subtle glances. it's evident that she recognizes the resemblance between you and your brother, but you’re definitely the better-looking sibling. her gaze lingers on the white ribbon holding half your hair up, rendering you even more fascinating in her eyes. stray strands of hair gently frame your face, and as you tuck them behind your ear, her eyes follow the movement with a mixture of awe and allure.
though you and mina have never engaged in conversation, the inscrutable (homosexual) tension between you two is undeniable, as if you were destined to meet.
“is there something on my face?” mina asks, voice soft and wow, even her voice is beautiful. she tilts her head when she catches you stealing a glance.
“oh, no, sorry.” you respond politely, “i just, um, noticed your beauty marks. they’re pretty.”
(you don’t know why you chose to compliment her now and here when you’re alone in this dining room and the tension is prominent—are you trying to embarrass yourself?)
“thank you, y/n was it?” the sound of your name being articulated by that delicate voice of hers is enough to have your cheeks burning.
“yeah, y/n.”
“you’re quite pretty too.”
you smile and poke at your salmon, “thank you.”
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two weeks from that dinner, you find yourself meeting with her and spending more time with the lovely princess since her own joke of a husband can’t do so. mina was never fond of jun anyway, he boasted too much, and you were much more pleasing to the eye—and her heart.
you lead mina around the castle, holding her hand and dragging her to the large library in the east wing. you ramble about the books you’ve read, cheeks flushing lightly when you go on a tangent about romance novels. when you stop gushing about books out of fear of boring her, she urges you to go on, giving you that signature grin that makes your heart leap.
a few weeks after that moment in the library, mina finds herself situated in your own bedroom. it’s a large room, fit for a princess like you. the room smells like peaches and is tidy for the most part, though books clutter some spaces and it honestly feeds mina’s growing interest in you.
the ribbon in your hair is worked at with your slim fingers and your locks are let down with a swift motion of the fabric. you run a hand through your hair and lead mina to your bed, grabbing her hand and urging her to sit down next to you.
mina sits down and you hum, softly while you lean against the headboard of the bed.
“are you tired?” mina asks, and you shake your head.
“not really.”
“it’s quite late.”
“perhaps.” you say, turning over to face her. “you know, speaking of sleep. i’ve been having dreams about you.”
mina raises her brows and giggles, “really now?”
you hum, “yeah, it’s a flash of different scenes, different lives.”
“sounds interesting.”
“mhm.” you sigh, looking from the mole on mina’s nose to her lips. “we always end up meeting. do you think we know each other in every life? like, maybe there’s other universes where we’re… maybe we’re best friends in another kingdom, or maybe we’re commoners.”
“that’s a possibility. you read a lot of books, maybe they’re creating that fantasy world up in that brain of yours.” mina teases, subconsciously scooting closer to you.
your gaze stills on her face, you stay silent for a moment and mina grows flustered as you travel across her features with your look. your hand moves over to brush a strand of hair away from her face, and your thumb rubs against her soft, delicate skin—just below her left eye.
“an eyelash was there.” you say, and her cheek grows noticeably warm from the contact of your thumb on her skin.
“i had this one dream, you know…” you start, moving your thumb along her cheek and tracing the side of her face with your pointer. you lean a bit closer, and mina does too, she stares at your plump, soft, peachy lips. “we were really close, like this.” you practically whisper, voice lowering as you mumble.
“yeah?” mina asks, leaning closer. now both of you are staring at each other’s lips, bodies reeling in closer as if there were a string of desire pulling your hearts closer to each other.
mina tilts her head and her eyelids start to shut, you mirror her action and do the same. her cold fingers find your cheek and softly caress your skin, pulling you in closer for a kiss.
her lips are as soft as they look, warm against your own despite the chill of her fingers on your face—though they seem to burn into you the deeper the kiss grows. the locking of lips is dangerous, especially with mina seeing as she’s married to your brother and all. the two of you know everything will have to be behind closed doors, love can be difficult.
mina pulls away with lidded eyes and you whine in response.
“did we do that in your dream?”
“yeah, a few times.”
“déjà vu i guess,” mina murmurs against your lips, “i’ve had the same dreams,” she admits before sliding her hand down to your neck, gently gripping your hair and twirling it around her finger. she kisses you again, your lips recognize the feeling.
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in this universe you’re on the way back to the ice rink. you’ve forgotten your bag filled with your shoulder pads and gloves.
you check the locker room and there’s nothing, but you do spot momo’s unlocked locker. knowing the clumsy, forgetful teammate, she had probably rushed out after getting a call from that sana girl she’s been talking to. the swooning lesbian had most likely left the building in a second, you’re using that against her for sure.
“where is it…” you grumble, wandering around the locker room and shuffling through every corner.
a sigh leaves your lips and you head out to the rink, it has to be there if it’s not in the locker rooms; otherwise, you’re completely fucked and your wallet might come to life just to kill you if you don’t find that dumb bag.
you step into the rink area, your face getting hit with the cold air of the room. the issue at hand is completely disregarded when your gaze lands on a figure gracefully gliding across the ice, her presence seemingly ethereal. her movements are an intricate dance on the frozen surface beneath, each glide harmoniously transitioning into the next. you’re captivated to say the least.
her body glides effortlessly, proof of her unquestionable talent. with every spiraling twirl and soaring leap, she effortlessly keeps your attention on her, you’re enamored. her skate blades etch intricate patterns into the ice, similar to the way yours hack at the ice when you speed through players to score a point during your scrimmages.
the woman stops and her eyes meet yours, making you redirect your attention elsewhere, reminding you of the reason why you’re even back here past practice hours.
she skates towards the gate that leads out the rink and you quickly walk away, scanning the seats for your blue bag. it has to be here somewhere; you prayit’s there.
your prayers were answered—a blue bag is spotted on one of the benches with the same shoulder pads you had used earlier, you let out a sigh of relief.
when you make your way back towards the door back to the lobby, you’re face-to-face with the same woman who had been skating—she had been the only other person here besides you at this hour, further emphasizing her devotion to her art.
she examines you carefully. your hair is still disheveled and your nose is also pink from the practice you had earlier. you’re wearing a comfy-looking navy hoodie, as well as matching, baggy sweatpants—though maybe a slightly darker shade. the blue bag is held over your shoulder, sitting along your back while you carry it.
mina swears she recognizes you, the messy hair that falls over your face and that dorky, awkward smile you shoot her is strangely familiar. maybe she’s met you at this rink before, that’s probably the case.
“sorry, did i interrupt you?” you pry, scared to have disrupted her elegant performance.
“no, not at all.” she responds. you look her up and down, eyeing the full black outfit she wears briefly before meeting her soft eyes and appealing features. you pause for a brief moment when you see the two recognizable beauty marks: one above her top lip and the other on her nose.
“have we met before?” you ask, curious as to why there’s a weird understanding from her.
“i don’t know, maybe we have.”
“you seem very familiar, i can’t put my finger on it.” you mumble, brows furrowing lightly.
“i- i thought that too.”
you put out a hand, “i’m y/n.”
mina reciprocates the gesture and puts her hand in yours—a strangely perfect fit, as if her hand has been there before.
“mina.” she says, staring at your hands making contact.
“do you always practice at this rink?” you question, interested as to how you’ve missed someone as eye-catching as her.
mina nods. “i usually practice later or in the early mornings.”
“that’s why i haven’t seen you around.” you hum, “i practice during late afternoons.”
“are you a hockey player?”
“yup.” you respond proudly, shooting a grin that makes the figure skaters own lips turn. you shove your hand in your pocket and find your phone, checking the time. “i’ll leave you to your practice, you skate beautifully by the way.”
mina smiles and you contemplate whether you should pry and find out more of her schedule just from seeing the curve of her pretty lips. “i’ll see you y/n, hope we run into each other again.”
“likewise. have a great night mina.”
“you too.”
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you’re a lucky woman, very, very lucky.
you run into the beautiful figure skater two days later, and then two days after that, and somehow you’re running to her after every other practice.
quick conversation and small talk is exchanged between the short periods of time that you see each other, a friendship blossoms quickly.
mina, with her quiet demeanor, has always been reserved, even around her own coach and most people she interacts with. however, something about your presence makes her feel instantly at ease—as if you’ve known each other for years. your charm effortlessly melts her tension away, creating a comfortable atmosphere where she’s no longer limited to her usual three-word responses.
beyond her enchanting beauty on the ice, mina's personality shines in its own unique way. her lovely features are undeniably captivating, but it's the tenderness in her remarks and descriptions of her day that truly warms your heart. each word she utters, spoken in her soft and honeyed voice, forms an urge to know more about mina.
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not even a month later, the two of you find yourselves in a small diner sitting across from each other.
your cheek is in your palm while you listen to mina go on about her recent fixations and interests—one being the legos that she had finally bought after eyeing for two months. you find yourself laughing at the way she talks about the plastic building pieces with such passion and excitement, your smile growing wider with each remark from the divine woman in front of you.
mina goes on about her dream of being a professional figure skater, that it’s been her dream since she was a litte girl. she even admits that she’d love to travel to other countries to train and learn more, she’s fond of foreign training programs. the success she craves inspires you, and soon after you exchange your own dreams of being in one of the big league hockey teams. you give mina a little background on yourself, explaining that you lived in canada for half your life, which also happens to be the same place where you started becoming infatuated with hockey. mina nods in awe, listening with intent.
the two of you ramble and laugh and smile and blush—it makes the two of you so amazingly giddy.
the date is cliché, something out of a movie: dinner with a beautiful woman, paying for her meal, and then driving her home—before she leaves, you kiss her cheek—she blushes and kisses you on the lips, leaving you in the car with a flushed face and a dangerously quick heart rate.
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most of your relationships in the past—if not all, have been quite rocky after a couple of months, but that’s not the case with mina.
there’s a simple understanding between you two, as if you already know each other’s likes and dislikes by heart. you’re accustomed to mina’s mood swings and troubles, always being there if she needed a shoulder to lean on. there was a silent understanding, and mina was glad that she had you. mina is understanding when you explain your past and the difficulties of pursuing a hockey career, and once you’re done shedding a few tears you exchange your first “i love you’s.”
it's safe to say that being with mina has been the best time of your life, not even a year has passed by and she’s had you swooning more than momo had been when she first got with sana. you’re hooked, you’re in love.
there’s nothing that could break you and mina up, not with the wonderful communication and understanding of boundaries. you two were perfect for each other, there was no way anything could hinder the relationship.
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“can we talk?” you and mina say together, surprised that you said it at the same time with the same uneasy tone.
“you go first.” you urge, mina shakes her head.
“no, you go.” she responds. you laugh to calm your nerves, to ease your worries, to stop the tears that start to well in your eyes, it works temporarily—but mina can sense the tension in the air, and it’s frightening.
you inhale, then exhale slowly.
“i was scouted, they want me in one of the best training facilities and teams in canada.” you croak out, a lump forming in your throat after you speak. mina purses her lip and you can tell she tries to stop herself from crying, closing her eyes and turning her head downwards.
“y/n,” she says, voice shaky, “they… they want me training in korea.”
you blink and tears spill, rolling down your face.
“i think you should take it, mina.” you say heartbreakingly, “you’re very talented, i know it would get you far. it’s your dream, i know how much you liked the training over in korea.”
“i think you should take,“ mina cuts herself off with a sniffle, “you should go to canada.”
the two of you aren’t lying, wanting the others to achieve their own dream, but the inevitable product is the two of you parting. that’s the last thing you want.
if you had known that you would’ve met mina earlier, she would’ve been your dream, you’d give up everything for her and mina would do the same for you. however, these offers are something that the two of you have been longing for, and even if your hearts may shatter by taking up these opportunities, the two of you know it has to be your choices.
you pull mina into your arms, a bittersweet embrace. her tears stain your t-shirt, yours seem to stain hers as well.
“i’m sorry.” mina cries.
“don’t,” you sob, “it’s okay, we’ll be okay.” you add, though you’re unsure yourself.
the distance is impossible, and it’s already difficult to spend more than three hours a day with each other now, so thinking of how it would be while you’re thousands of kilometers apart has you holding onto mina tighter, knowing that you’ll have to let her go.
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your flight leaves in less than two hours, and you still have to go through baggage as well as security.
a tear slips down your cheek as you hold onto mina, you don’t want to let go, you can’t, but you have to.
you two had a long talk filled with tears and runny noses about how this would go down, and you decided to spend the last few days together, savoring and cherishing the last moments of each other’s presence. sure, the two of you could see each other now and then, but it would be too hard to keep a long-distance relationship going when your schedules are full and your bodies are tired. the time difference doesn’t help either. it just won’t work out, no matter what obstacle you tried to work around, it was evident that this wasn’t going to cut it with the new circumstances.
so you two decided to do what was necessary: break up.
mina pulls away with tears spilling down her face, she’s wearing the sweater you gifted her on her birthday. it makes you sniffle.
“i’m going to miss you.” you say in between tears, “too much.”
“me too.” she says. her nose is red, eyes pink, and her bottom lip quivers.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i wish we could-“
“y/n, i love you. i want you to achieve this dream.” mina cuts you off, “i’m willing to let you go for it to happen.”
“i’ll love you forever.” you cry, “whatever happens, there’s always a space in my heart for you. when you make it to the big screen, i’ll cheer for you. promise”
mina closes her eyes and wipes her tears, “and I’ll do the same. god, y/n… i love you so much.”
“don’t say that, please my nose is getting stuffy,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. your voice cracks, it’s shaky. “i promise in another universe or something like that, everything will work out, and we won’t have distance keeping us apart. in every life i swear mina, i swear i’ll find you, we’ll meet and we don’t have to part like this and- fuck, god i can’t do this.”
mina laughs, it’s not out of amusement. she’s going to miss your dorky little rambling. “you’ve been watching too many marvel movies.”
“stop that,” you sigh, smiling in between tears. “but I swear, I will.”
“is that a promise?”
“yes mina, yes.”
mina smiles again before tip-toeing to kiss you, you get the faint taste of her salty tears. the kiss is quite long, both of you not wanting to pull away, not wanting to part.
your hand lingers on mina’s cheek, it’s soft on her skin, she melts into your touch one last time.
“i love you always.” mina says, using her own thumb to wipe away your damp, pink cheek.
“me too.” you rasp, “always and forever.”
323 notes · View notes
vitentia · 10 months
Text
SAY YES TO HEAVEN .lıllıl.
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pairings ━━ rockstar!ellie williams x artist!girlfriend!reader (no physical descriptions used but female pronouns are used)
warnings ━━ little bit of teasing but sfw, teeth rotting fluff
synopsis ━━ you and Ellie came from entirely different worlds. she was all about the limelight, you preferred pen names, she lived for the burns and cramps on her fingers after a long show, while you preferred the satisfaction of finishing a strenuous piece of work. but when Ellie wakes up to find you taking a page from her book, everything makes sense again.
authors note ━━ i needed more fun ellie fics without the smut so I decided to write it myself in case anyone feels the same lol.
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Wow.
Ellie’s friends often joke about her beings whipped but, fuck, she’d never felt it until now. Watching your eyes dart back and forth between her position and your canvas was truly a sight to behold. To be honest, she didn’t quite know what was going on when her eyes fluttered open with a blue tinted light casted over the room.
She’d assumed herself dead and was quite comfortable with the heaven she was casted upon, not that she though she’d be in heaven in the first but, hey.
At first, she took a sharp inhale and sat up abruptly, looking around like a madman before your frantic hands waved her down.
“No, no, no, no! Don’t move!” You stood up from your seat across from the couch she was napping on and pushed her on her back.
“Damn, woman! Let me wake up first.” She joked, squinting her eyes as you pushed and prodded at her face to position it just right.
Once you were happy with the pose, you skipped back over to your spot and began dipping your brush into the watercolor paint.
She smiled to herself, “Are you drawing me while I sleep, Mr. Goldberg?”
You gave her a pointed look and continued your simple strokes. “It was golden hour and you looked so calm, sue me.”
“Does this mean I can go back to sleep?”
“No.”
Ellie clicked her teeth but remained still, her eyes tracing over your…everything for the entirety of the time she was laying there. Silence remained a safety blanket over the both of you and, for once, her ears stopped ringing.
“I thought you were in a art slump, what happened?”
You sighed with a shy smile. “You happened.”
“Aww babe-“ she cooed, sitting up on her elbows until you fully moved out from behind the canvas.
“Don’t!-“
“Sorry!” Ellie apologized, immediately going back to her position. Once she was comfortable she gave you a smile. “Better?”
Giving her the “I see you” gesture, you slid back on your chair and switched brushes. “I thought about what you said.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Wh…what did I say?”
“The…the fight we had last week, it had me thinking.” Ellie sucked in a breath, ready to interrupt. “Don’t speak until I’m done, Ellie Williams.” She shut her mouth. “You’re right, I am too…obsessive with my art. Honestly, I think I was so defensive because it’s true. I don’t take risks with my art, I don’t branch out, and when I don’t feel like it’s good I just self implode and hate it and myself. But you’re…not.”
“Well-“
“You’re so confident about everything you do. When you fail or mess up you just…laugh? It blows me away every time. You blow me away, Ellie.” You sighed and put down your brush. “When I came out of the shower and saw you asleep on the couch with the light hitting your face just right, you looked so serene I decided to take a page out of your book. Hence the watercolor.”
When you didn’t speak again, Ellie assumed she could speak now. “Does that mean I can move now?”
You chuckled lightly and stood up, holding your hand out for hers. She took it happily and immediately walked over to the canvas.
“Hang on, I’m not-“ Cut off by Ellie’s gasp, you assumed the worst and cringed, fiddling with your hands.
“Is that what I look like?!” Ellie exclaimed. From her hunched over position, she looked up at you with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Hell, no wonder your so in love with me. Look at me!”
You gave her a playful glare as she stood to her full height and put her hands on her hips, proudly looking at her work. Ellie smiled widely at you and yanked you into her arms, fully encapsulating you in her entire being as she squeezed away all doubts and fears you still held.
“God, I’m so proud of you. I know it’s not easy for you to let loose but the fact that you did this just for me is unbelievable.” You cuddled into her hug, trying hiding your embarrassment from her eyes until she abruptly pulled away and gripped your cheeks with one hand and staring deeply into your eyes. “I will marry you, you know that?”
You tried to smile but were prevented from that when she pulled you into a kiss, and then another one, and another one, and another one, and-
“Okay, okay, okay! I get it.” You laughed, pulling away from a breath.
Still holding your cheeks, Ellie pulled away with a geeky smile. “We should have kids.”
You gave her a confused look.
“Forget the logistics of it. I just want another you. Forever and ever.” She waved away your confused and turned into laughter, pulling you into another hug.
“Now who’s obsessed, Mrs. Goldberg?”
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sandy-the-glader · 5 months
Text
Happy Halloween Stranger
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Character: George Karim x Fem!Reader
Type: Fluff
Length: 1.5k words
Summary: George comes across a beautiful Fittes agent he's never seen before. She's there to cure his boredom at the Fittes Halloween party and he wants to know more about her by the minute. Did I mention this is a masquerade and he has absolutely no idea who she is or how to find her?
Trope: Strangers to Lovers
A/n: This was fun to write so lmk if you want a part 2 or smth but this is a special for Halloween. A few more one-shots should come out next month so I'll get on that but like I'm in the mood to write for Mike Schmidt since the fnaf movie just came out soo hit up the inbox lol but anyways Happy Halloween everyone!!
George sat lonely at a table with a glass of champagne in his hand. He watched the dance floor as couples twirled together giggling at each other. One of those couples being Lucy and Lockwood. For the past few months at Portland Row, he had to deal with the constant third wheeling between them. Even on missions or even simple research jobs.
He swirled his drink in his hand and sighed. They had been dancing for hours and having fun by barely giving him a second glance. A mysterious woman seemed to take notice of it. George took a swig of champagne and slumped further into his seat wanting very much to leave the event and entirely disappear. He hated parties, especially a posh masquerade where he didn't know who anyone was beneath the mask.
He would honestly rather be handing out candy to the trick of treaters that came by and he hated that too.
-
I scanned his features well the ones I could see without him taking off his mask. After asking around the party I found out his name was George Karim. He works for the small agency of Lockwood and Co. There was something that drew me towards him. I don't know he looked so lonely and he wasn't like the rest of the guys here.
My feet started to walk over to his table, moving past all the rest of the masked folks. I couldn't care about any of these people here. My team was god knows where and I couldn't tell them apart from the other people here for the life of me. They were probably tipsy and making out with their partners on the dance floor. I want to have a little fun tonight. It was Halloween and I was not about to have a boring and wasted night.
I pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. The boy's eyes were immediately attached to my face out of confusion. They were a beautiful brown and they danced in the light.
His mask was also insanely creative. It was half gray half orange with swirls of black. Some of his dark curls fell over it.
"Some friends you have hm?" I spoke up nodding towards the other two members of Lockwood and Co. which were Lucy Carlyle and Anthony Lockwood. They were much more well-known than George Lockwood always being in the spotlight lately with his amazing achievements and Lucy as his partner in crime. George wasn't in the pictures they had in newspapers, let alone he wasn't mentioned much.
"What?" He quite obviously heard the question he was just startled that someone seemed to be talking to him.
"Your team," I spoke again. "they're out on the dance floor just enjoying themselves but I mean what about you? You look bored and don't seem to be enjoying your time here. Am I correct?" His brown eyes softened beneath the mask and he nodded slowly. He looked skeptical of this conversation but he seemed to be leaning into it. "Look, I've noticed they haven't been over here in perhaps an hour or more."
"Yeah but why is that your concern?" He huffed. I took out a pen and started to draw on a napkin on the table.
"I know I'm right. And you're right too, it isn't my concern but, you haven't told me to leave you alone yet." I pointed out. He sat up.
"Because I appreciated the company." He admitted. I finished writing on the napkin and shoved it in my pocket.
"So George Karim of Lockwood and Co. tell me why you're here in the first place? Since you seem to hate parties so much?"
"They forced me to. They wanted me to get out of the house and do something fun like go to a dance because 'I need someone to love' and dance with. They knew I wasn't going to dance here." He crossed his arms with annoyance.
"How about we dance?" He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me oddly. "Look I'm not saying you gotta love me but if your friends see you dancing and at least looking like you are enjoying yourself, you could go home quicker. I mean that was the whole point of coming here right?"
"And the fact they wanted to have a romantic outing." He rolled his eyes and I laughed. "I suppose that's not a bad idea. But sorry to tell you I don't dance with strangers I need to know who's behind the pretty mask." The flirt took me slightly aback.
"Y/n L/n. Come on Karim. The sooner you dance the sooner you're out of here and you can get back to whatever you were doing before."
"Do we need to shake on it since you're so eager to dance with me?" Oh, so he can joke I thought he almost wasn't able to for a second.
"Hey, I'm trying to save a bored boy at a posh old person's party be grateful." He smiled softly and we stood up. We made our way to the dance floor. He was insanely stiff.
"Do you even know how to dance Karim?" His eyes widen.
"Erm.. no." He said nervously shaking his head.
"It's okay. Lemme help you so you don't look like Bambi on ice." I took both of his hands and guided them to my hips and I draped my arms over his shoulders. "Now you're just going to move your feet in a smooth pattern. And relax your shoulders you look like a brick." He listened to my advice and I noticed him start to relax under my hands. "There you go! Perfect."
"How'd you learn how to dance?" He asked as we swayed. "Just as a kid. I've bounced around many agencies and they always had balls like these." He nodded understanding. "Though Fittes was the only one I stuck with because of its high reputation."
"Do you enjoy your job though?" He asked genuinely curious.
"The job is definitely something I enjoy doing It's just my team I'm not extremely fond of." I frowned. I looked into my eyes wanting me to continue my small rant. "They're always off on their own and they're extremely careless! I want to put my abilities to good use but I can't with them around." I noted.
"I know what you mean. I used to work here and I didn't think very highly of my team either."
"You did? Why don't you work here anymore? I mean not saying your team now isn't lovely." I glanced over across the dance floor at the duo.
"I got fired." He said throwing me off.
"You got fired? Jeez Karim, what did you do?" I said shocked that he would even be considered a problem. He seems so relaxed.
"Because I asked too many questions and was doing things above my pay grade." He said and shrugged his shoulder lightly.
"Fired for being a smarty pants." Cute. "Now that's something I could see. That's idiotic of them though. Your brain could be used for some good things here. But If you're happy at Lockwood and Co. then I'm happy for you." His cheeks flushed slightly and he looked puzzled but happy.
"Thank you." He murmered. I wanted to see the rest of what was under his mask. I took my hands and cupped his cheek and he copied my action. Maybe he was wondering the same thing. Maybe this could be more than a one-time thing. We seemed to get closer to inch closer together.
Lucy and Lockwood stumbled up to us unexpectedly. We backed away from each other. They were tipsy and they were giggling like school children. George looked surprised to see them and waited for them to talk. While George was distracted I took the napkin I drew on earlier and slipped it into the boy's pocket without him realizing.
"Georgieeeee" Lucy wined. "Your girlfriend is pretty but it's late we have to go." She tugged on his shirt and he stumbled.
"Lucy!" He tried to get her to stop yanking him away but she wouldn't budge. He looked backward at me and I waved.
"Goodnight 'Georgie' Happy Halloween." I smiled. He looked upset leaving but that was what he wanted wasn't it? To get home and not have to deal with these people. That was the whole plan.
-
As soon as I got home, I guided Lucy and Lockwood upstairs so they didn't fall they giggled the entire way up. The entire way.
"Goodnight Georgie!" Lucy said before slamming her door. I shook my head and finally entered my room. I collapsed onto my bed. Once I lied down I heard the crinkle of paper. I looked at my bed confused. I cleaned up all my research papers before we left so it couldn't be those.
I felt around the bed and then my pocket. I felt a small indent and I reached into the pocket and pulled it out. There was a small not that said
Just in case you need another dance partner ;)
xxx xxx xxxx
I smiled to myself and placed the napkin on my side table. Defiantly could put that to use later. I ended up having so much more fun than I could have ever thought. Happy Halloween to me.
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satellite-evans · 1 year
Text
All I want
Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Summary: your daughter Lily is the best gift-giver in the world.
Word count: 1.4k+
Warnings: FLUFFF
A/N: I literally wrote this in 30 minutes, so if it doesn't make sense, I'm sorry lmao
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
Christmas was one of Chris’ favorite holidays. Not only was he able to take a break from work, but he also could celebrate it with the people he loved the most. Especially with you and your daughter.
The special moments you shared with Chris got more meaning when Christmas came around, happiness was sprinkled over the both of you like glitter, and the both of you couldn’t let the smile disappear on your faces during the holidays. And of course, Lily, the sun and moon of Chris, was enjoying that her father was home and could spend more time with her.
“Shhh, Daddy, you gotta be quiet.”
With Christmas pajamas and fluffy socks on, Lily tried her utter best to surprise you. Being pregnant and taking take of the house and a 6-year-old was difficult, even your daughter caught that. You got tired more often, easily forgot stuff you usually didn’t, broke a couple of glasses, and it was obvious that Chris wasn’t around and you needed a break. Since he came home from setting to celebrate Christmas with his family, Lily saw this as an opportunity to do something special for her mom.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but these fluffy socks make you slip, huh?”
When Lily came to him to explain her little surprise for her mom, Chris felt psychically his heart grow a few sizes bigger. Here she was, only 6 years old, worrying about her mother and trying to make her feel better. In all honesty, Chris felt like shit. He always left with an uneasy feeling when he needed to fly for work, but now that you were pregnant again and had to take care of a child too, It felt like he was the worst dad on the planet. Of course, as the amazing woman you were, you always calmed him down on phone calls and made him sure that there was nothing to be worried about, that everything was fine. Even If it wasn’t, you would never admit that to him.
“Okay daddy, I am going to open the door and give you the sign when to come in, okay?” The both of them stood in front of the bedroom door you shared with Chris, where you were sleeping quietly, not knowing what was going on. Lily slowly opened the door, trying as hard as she could not to make a sound that could wake her mom up. While Lily tiptoed towards you, Chris was still waiting in front of the door with a plate of breakfast the two of them made.
Lily got on the bed and saw her mom peacefully sleeping. Not able to help herself, she bent down and kissed her mom’s belly. Since the moment she found out she was going to be a big sister, she was nothing but affectionate towards the baby. Showering your belly with kisses, giving you hugs, talking to the baby, and even drawing on your belly. Seeing your daughter being so kind and lovely made you proud as a mother, but also emotional. It felt like yesterday when you held Lily for the first time, and now she was turning into a little lady.
“Mommy, can you wake up for me, please?” Lily’s voice was so soft, that Chris almost didn’t hear it. She was always kind and soft when she was next to you.
“Mommy, please wake up. We have a surprise for you.” After trying to wake you up for a second time, Lily saw that your eyelids slowly opened and welcomed the sunshine that came through the window. After rubbing your eyes and looking left & right, you finally acknowledged the presence that woke you up in the first place, and a smile immediately appeared on your face.
“Good morning, mommy.”
You opened your arms, to embrace Lily in a big hug. She put her face in your neck while you put your face in her neck. The scent of strawberries filled your nose and a feeling of warm, fuzziness washed over you.
“Mhm, good morning, Lily. What is the surprise you’re talking about, sweetie?”
Lily immediately stood up, looked behind her, and give her father a thumbs-up, signaling for him to come in. When you saw that Chris wore the same type of pajamas Lily wore, you sat straight to get a better look and saw the plate he was holding. With a surprised face, you waited for them to explain what was going on.
“Good morning, honey. Look what Lily and I made for you.”
When Chris bent down to put the plate on your lap, he also put a loving kiss on your lips that made Lily grin widely.
The moment you looked down at your lap, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Chocolate pancakes, eggs, waffles, basically everything you loved, were on the same plate. Lily also didn’t forget to put a drawing of hers too, where she drew you with a belly, Chris, herself, and Dodger in a park. She also wrote ‘I love my big family’ in her cute little handwriting. Tears were already building up and with your pregnancy hormones, you knew you were going to cry about this for a while.
“I-I don’t understand you guys. What was the need for all of this? I am honestly lost for words for this nice gesture, and Lily, this drawing is the cutest thing I have ever seen, baby. Thank you.”
Lily gladly welcomed the kisses you placed on her tiny cheeks, and Chris took pictures of this lovely family bonding.
“It was no problem at all, mommy. You made me breakfast every day, so now I am going to make you breakfast every day. You deserve more. Oh! that reminds me, give her the other surprise daddy, come on, do it!”
She jumped up and down the bed, showing clearly how excited she was.
“Okay okay, give me a second monkey.”
He took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to you. You cleaned your cheeks first with your hands and opened the envelope. Chris was nervously waiting for your reaction with his hands on his mouth while Lily was still jumping.
When you saw what was inside, the only thing you could do was gasp. Chris booked you a relaxing trip to your favorite destination with saunas, massages, spas, and pedicures included.
“I-I don’t understand. What is this?” you truly had no words to describe what you were feeling right now.
“It’s a little getaway, honey. You deserve it. These last weeks were hard on you and Lily wanted to surprise you with something special. We hope you like it.”
Like was the last word to even begin to explain the feelings you were going through.
“And this was your idea, Lily.”
She nodded and gave you a side hug.
“I know it was hard to take care of me alone, mommy. And you’re pregnant. That can’t be easy! And I want the best for you, so I hope you’ll like it. I love you, mommy.”
There it was. That was all you needed to completely lose it and break into tears. You took lily close to your chest and hugged her tightly while you looked at Chris. Even though neither of you said anything, both of you knew how much you loved one another. He joined the hug and embraced the both of you, leaving a kiss on both of your heads.
“You guys are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I didn’t need this breakfast or a trip. All I want is you guys. I feel the most relaxed, the happiest when I’m with you guys.”
Lily felt the baby kick and broke the hug to give her sibling a big kiss.
“Even my little sister likes the gift!”
“Of course she would, baby. Her big sister is the kindest and best gift-giver in the world.”
She only hummed, hugging your belly once again while Chris could do nothing but leave another kiss on your lips.
“Did you really like it?” He whispered on your lips, staying close.
“I did baby, thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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alcottsangel · 2 years
Text
Beloved Countryside {Benedict Bridgerton x reader}
Summary: Benedict and Y/n enjoy their family life in the countryside. Pure fluff.
Warnings: Pregnancy, very briefly referenced sex and making out.
Requested by @bridgertonfan :) It's my first fic in a looooong time, but I hope you'll enjoy this still! <3
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Neither Benedict nor Y/n enjoyed the balls and festivities in London much. There was a time when Benedict attended rather decadent parties and did things that now felt incredibly far away, but he had settled down and found all his passions laying elsewhere.
Choosing a residence in the countryside only made sense for them. It kept them away from the public eye and offered enough space for Benedict's art. There were easels with half-finished paintings scattered around the entire estate.
The paintings made it bluntly obvious what inspired Benedict these days. His wife and his daughter.
It showed them in several positions, several sceneries depending on the place he had painted them at. There were some that showed them reading in the drawing room. There were also those that showed Y/n in the privacy of their bedchamber.
Benedict adored her, truly. Every inch of her body, every inch of her heart and mind.
He adored those parts only he was allowed to see. That's also why he liked those intimate paintings he made late at night the most.
Every moment he laid his eyes upon her a new burst of inspiration hit him, one that was almost impossible to resist.
So when Y/n woke up, it was to the sound of scribbling on paper and she knew immediately that it was her husband.
Her eyes fluttered open gently, the sunlight hitting her face causing her to sneeze and Benedict to turn his attention to her.
A large smile grew on his face, as he placed his sketchbook on the bedside table to wrap his arms around her gently.
"You're awake." He noted in a soft tone, as his lips trailed down her bare back, following the pattern of lovebites he had left the evening prior.
She smiled and turned in his arms. "How long have you been drawing me, my dear?" Y/n asked with a knowing glare.
A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, as his fingers caressed her cheeks. 
"Am I that obvious?"
"To me you are." She spoke in a teasing manner, her hands tangling through his chestnut brown hair.
Benedicts eyes held so much love that Y/n felt like passing out just by the way he looked at her.
It reminded her every day how lucky she was with him. How much he appreciated her in a way that most people could only dream of.
"Is it late already? Perhaps we should get up." She told him, but before she had a chance to get up, his hands found their way up her bare legs.
"Benedict!" Y/n scolded her husband in between her giggles, until she finally managed to sit up and get out of their bed.
He groaned in disappointment. "Come back, my love."
The young woman stretched as she looked out of the window to see, that the sun was already up.
"As much as I want to stay in bed with you the entire day, we both know that's hardly possible. I am certain that someone is already waiting for us." She reminded him.
The thought of their little girl finally got him out of bed.
Benedict was an excellent father. He knew with just one glare what Ada needed, had her figured out just like her mother.
He had no issue with staying up late to take care of her when she fussed as a baby, never hesitated to take care of her in a way that was only expected from the wife.
He naturally grew into his role, was so devoted to it that Y/n sometimes feared he would loose himself along the way.
But he didn't, instead passing his talents onto their child.
And oh, how much little Ada was like her father.
The same chestnut hair, the same crooked smile.
It started with the simple things and ended with the way she held the brush while she painted.
It felt like having him twice in her life. Y/n was incredibly grateful.
Later that day, Y/n was comfortably seated on a chaise lounge, a book in her hands. She had not even read a whole page yet, as her eyes were far too occupied by watching her two most beloved people in the world.
Dear little Ada proudly showed her father what she had drawn just this morning and Benedict, bless his heart, reviewed it like a painting in St James's palace.
Hours could go by of her just watching them like this. It reminded her just how thankful she was. It also reminded her of the little secret she had yet to share with her husband.
By the time Benedict returned to her side, Ada was eagerly following butterflies around the garden.
He threw himself next to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her and lovingly kissing her face.
"Ben!" She laughed in admiration, hugging him and finally meeting his lips with hers.
It was an affectionate kiss, one that was quick to turn into a lustful session of melting against one another.
They broke apart when they had to catch their breath and the second-born Bridgerton brother snuggled against her chest.
"Do you even know how grateful I am to live this life with you, my love?" He told her, as she caressed his hair.
"You remind me every day." Y/n answered.
His eyes followed Ada's tiny steps through their garden. "I can not believe that we made such an amazing little person. I mean, just look at her. How talented she is." He whispered so silently, that Y/n almost didn't understand him.
"Could you believe if I told you that we made another?" Benedicts head shot up so fast, he felt dizzy. Had he misunderstood her?
"You are with child?" All colour had flushed from his cheeks and tears collected at the brim of his eyes. "Indeed, I am."
The tears finally started to fall and he once again held Y/n as close to him as possible.
He was thankful. Thankful, for all the happiness she had brought into his life. She was his world and she gave him his universe.
Benedict Bridgerton still loved Y/n like the first day he laid his eyes on her.
Comments and stuff are of course very much welcomed! <3 I am so excited to write for Benedict, he finally brought back my motivation.
Thank you for reading!
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kingkatsuki · 1 month
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Hi! I've been going through your blog (bc its so good?!?! Thank you so much for writing so much Bakugou content!!!!) and just got really inspired by your Dragon King Bakugou universe to write about something urging reader to leave. I hope it's okay but I wanted to share what came out of it:
---
You had to leave.
Rumours of a vengeful vagabond out for Dragon King Bakugou's blood had spread. Although this is not the first and certainly would not be the last person seeking revenge, this particular instance caught your attention. Every descriptor about him was deeply familiar to you and, beyond your wildest hopes, reminds you of your brother. And so, you had to leave. 
It was simple really, almost laughingly so. All you had to do was request for some extra furs here, a larger bag there, and oh, you were fancying some cured meats lately! No matter what you asked for, they were brought to you immediately, for you were the woman cherished by the dragon king himself. His greatest prize. You had packed all the necessities as well as some of the jewels and gold Bakugou insisted on lavishing you with.
Just take it, woman. You know we dragons love to have shiny things and you're mine so of course my woman is going to have the best jewels.
Your heart squeezes at the memory of his brash words paired with his gentle hands as he adorned you with his spools. Physically leaving was easy, yes; steeling your resolve was the hard part. 
---
Taking one last look behind you at the castle you had called home for so many moons, you take a breath.
"So you're gonna leave just like that?" You freeze, heart stopping at the sound of his voice. You had been so careful. 
And you were, spacing your requests out between other mundane ones to not let anyone draw connections. But this was Bakugou, how could he not have known when he memorizes every breath you take. When he commits all your favourite things to heart so he can bring you more to make up for everything he has taken. When he is so painfully aware that he fell for a woman who could never love him with all that she is.
"I'm sorry...my King"
He scoffs "Am I still your king even when you are leaving?" 
And though you cannot bear to look into his eyes, swirling with hurt, betrayal, and anger, you must because he deserves at least that much. "You will always have a piece of me."
"But never the entirety, right" his distain masking what he really wants to say stay, please. But how could he ask you to choose him over your family, to take yet another important thing away from you again, to ask you to choose him when you never had a choice in coming here in the first place. 
Your lips set into a thin line, holding back the lump in your throat and the comforting words you wanted to give him. Because at the end of the day he was right, he could never have you entirely, not when your brother might be out there. Your brother, who helped raise you, cherish you, and mourned you and everyone he knew when he came back to a pile of rubble. You had to go back to him, you had to let him know that he is not alone in the world and maybe you can distract him enough to stop his quest for vengeance. 
Seeing the resolve in your eyes strengthen spurns Bakugou to try even though he knows he is fighting a losing battle "Is there nothing I can do to make you stay? I would get on my knees to beg if you so wishes it, just say the word."
"Bakugou if you really loved me then let me leave. If you do not, then you can command me to stay." And that is what seals it. Dragon King Bakugou who has never lost a fight in his life, for the first time cannot fight back. Because no matter what may come to pass, if there is one truth in the world it is surely that he loves you.
And so he turns around, tears in his eyes and heart in his throat, no matter how hard he tried, it was never be enough to change how you two started. "Go," he chokes out, "before I regret it"
"Thank you," you whisper, the wind carrying your voice over "Katsuki." And you're off, running into the distance, free. The complete opposite of how you arrived, strapped to the saddle of a dragon.
That was the first time, Katsuki thinks, and the last. That you've ever called him by his name.
#and then months later when katsuki is starting to become numb to the pain #only because he keeps fighting and fighting and fighting to the point of exhaustion so he has no more energy to think about you #but he always has energy when it comes to you #especially when he fists his cock at night to the memory of his name on your lips #anyways months later you're at the doorsteps of his castle #this time of your own free will #his heart nearly stops at the sight of you #at the scent of you #he thinks its a hallucinations #until you step forward and say his name #somehow its so much sweeter than his memory of it and thats when he starts to realize that this is real #and you stay for good #and maybe that was the first time katsuki was given instead of him taking #i love reading your tags but i don't think that really works in an ask but this is me trying to emulate
Ahhh thank you so much!
I love the angst of this. Like it pains you to leave, but you’re doing it because you know what your brother is capable of and what might happen if you stay.
And I can imagine that moment where Bakugou catches you, and you want him to tell you to stay because it’s gonna physically hurt you to leave him, but you know deep down it’s what you have to do.
And you spend all the time away from him longing for him? And he’s doing the exact same— but maybe he becomes more ruthless, more cold? Because he’s lost the only thing in his life worth having. No amount of riches or kingdoms can compare— and you find out that he’s planning an attack on your brother so you have to stop it? To explain to him the real reason why you left😭
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trtlebuns · 9 months
Text
Undercover
Synopsis: Ghost tells you that he’s going out for the night, what happens if you follow along just for fun and your cover gets blown
Inspired by this video: 😴
Swf, I think?
Tags: afab, subpar writing
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Simon (Ghost) Riley
“Alright darling, I shouldn’t be out too late” Simon says (hehe) as he makes his way towards the door as you follow behind him.
“ Oh please, go out and enjoy yourself. I’m sure Johnny misses you” you say with a giggle as Simon rolls his eyes at the thought of the Scottish man
With a kiss goodbye and a share of “i love you” you watch him get into his car and drive off.
Now the makeup commences
You rush towards your room and immediately start scanning through Simons closet
“All black, this man needs a tad bit of color me thinks” you say aloud as you pick up a simple black sweater and one of his colognes
You zoom towards your bathroom to immediately draw some bushy brows and a beard and adding any other features that bring out any “manly” features
As you take a look in the mirror, you damn near convinced yourself that you yourself is a male
You giggle to yourself menacingly, as you snap a selfie for this remembrance
for those who need a visual, you have on a cap, joggers, his sweater, and some classic chuck Taylor’s. Cool? Alright
You spray some of his cologne and make your way to the door
“Enjoy yourself my ass. NOT ON MY WATCH!” You mumble to yourself as you exit the door and make your way to your car for a field of fun
Time skip
“Hey Simon, I recent got kidnapped by a bunch of mimes…they did UNSPEAKABLE things to me” Johnny drunkenly laughed at his 100th dad joke
Poor simon
It’s been about 30 minutes since I’ve entered the bar, it was a good amount of people. Enough for you to not be spotted, and hide behind people
You picked up some camouflaging tips from Simon
You stand in the corner of the bar under a good amount of shade, as you sip on your drink that you ordered to not seem like a creep
You rub your temple as you see Johnny get ready to tell another joke, but before you could hear the joke you were sidetracked
A lady came up to you, swaying her lips and plastering a beautiful smile.
Sweat immediately falls down your ass
She approaches you and you can smell the alcohol seeping through her pores
“Hey handsome, you here alone” She whispers seductively
“Yes” you responded quickly, trying to think of ways to escape this lady and get back to the “mission”
“Well, I can keep you company” she smirks as she does the two finger walk up your arm
“Listen lady” You gently grasped her arm before they travel anywhere else “I am a woman and I am not interested so please be on your way” You said sternly looking at her, not breaking eye contact so she gets the memo
She snatches her arm out of your hand and huffs walking away with an attitude “not like you was hot stuff anyways”
You roll your eyes and try to set your eyes back onto Simons table to find hes not there
“Aw fuck” You whispered to yourself
“Aw fuck indeed” You hear a familiar voice say behind you
You quickly turn around and roll your eyes
“How did you even find me?” You said irritatedly
“I knew the plan before I even left the house, you need to work on your whispering when you talk on the phone with your friends” Simon chuckles
“Guess I’ve been caught” You raise your hands in surrender as you smack your lips
“But don’t i make a hot guy??” You questioned Simon as he walked the both of you over to the table with a very happy drunk Johnny
“Ohmygosh that was you y/n?? No wonder ghost kept ignoring me and watching you” Johnny hiccups and waves excitedly
You laugh and wave back excitedly to match energies
You share a few drinks between ghost and Johnny, it was honestly a night to remember
In the midst of you drawing a penis on a very unconscious johnny you look up and see Simon staring at you
Simon looks at you
“The sexiest” Simon whispers to himself
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arminsumi · 9 months
Text
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ BEYOND THE SEA
Armin x fem!reader
Chapter index / Chapter Ⅳ: Farewell
Overview; the eve of the Scout's farewell party. Contents; 1940s au, fluff, romance, drama
Warnings; angst, tragedy
TAGLIST; @sad-darksoul @crazychaoticizzy @ringsofsaturnnnn
DM in my askbox to be added to taglists! 💕
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Asking you to attend the Scout's farewell party was incredibly bold and risky, given the circumstances between you and Armin as well as the turbulent climate between Eldians and Marleyans at the time.
But the Lieutenant was excited – boyishly excited. His eyes had a sparkling quality about them that had once been lost.
When the eve of the Farewell party came, Armin craned his neck around searchingly; all the graceful dancers and tumbling drunkards created a loud and inviting atmosphere in the Scout's old headquarters. What better place to have a party than an old, grand castle?
The splendorous environment was wasted on the Lieutenant, who longed for the company of a particular nurse...
"Armin," Eren spoke to get Armin's attention, "Stop extending your neck like a goose. The Commander is approaching us." he said. "Right, sorry." Armin replied, ceasing his futile search for your face in the crowd.
"Not fond of dancing?" the Commander asked as he approached them, Levi at his side. "Not really, Sir." Eren replied.
"But young men like yourselves should be dancing the night away. Save your seriousness for the frontlines." the Commander said. Eren only shrugged, and Armin only wanted to dance if it was with you.
They held simple conversation with the Commander and the Captain, but Armin's attention was snatched by your entrance. You strode into the party from across the room, arm-locked with Maggie, clad in a dress that drove Armin's senses wild. He had to draw in a steadying breath.
As you wove through the crowd to the place where Armin and the others were gathered, Armin overheard a snippet of your banter with Maggie that amused him.
"Y/n, don't pull that expression!"
"What expression?"
"The expression of an old woman who's yearning for her doting Lieutenant."
"An old woman!? Oh, Maggie, with how much you insult me, it's amazing that we're still friends."
Armin smiled.
Commander Erwin noticed Armin's lacking attention. "Lieutenant, has something distracted you?" he asked. Armin nearly jumped.
"No, sir!" he replied quickly.
Erwin knew exactly what had caught his soldier's eye. "Don't just stand and stare; go ask the young miss to dance." he said.
Armin acted a fool, "The young miss?" he questioned.
"The one you have eyes for." Erwin said, "Nurse Y/n is her name, am I right?"
Armin went pink. "Yes sir, she is Nurse Y/n."
Connie laughingly ragged on Armin about embarrassing himself with the Commander. "You thought you could fool the mastermind?" Connie pointed out. "Anyways, who is this young miss that you have eyes for?" he teased Armin.
You had already taken to the dance floor with Maggie. Armin waited, wading through the partiers, looking much like a sailor lost at sea. His eyes lit up when you emerged, breathlessly, with Maggie from the dance floor; "Lieutenant!" you called for him, immediately joining his group of Eren, Connie and a famous soldier who you had only known by name before: Mikasa.
Armin fell into your charm right away. "Nurse Y/n – and Maggie – I'm so glad to see the two of you here tonight." he said politely, trying not to give your dress another desirous look-over.
Though Armin was eager to swing onto the dance floor with you, he patiently participated in a long and arduous group conversation. Finally, Maggie piped up, "Lieutenant, why are you not dancing? You have the perfect partner standing right next to you, and she seems bored stiff."
You stuttered and scolded Maggie for being too forward, but Armin felt immense appreciation for her forwardness; he couldn't have asked you himself. He felt too boyish about it.
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Just before he took to the dance floor with you, he caught a snippet of a conversation between the Commander and the Captain who were idly drinking champagne nearby;
"Levi, don't be like that. They're just young lovers sharing one last night of bliss. Let them have it."
Armin felt his heart panging in his chest.
For you and Armin, at the time, it was frowned upon to hold hands, yet he held yours tight. It was frowned upon to dance, yet he swayed with you. It was frowned upon to be too close to one another, yet you and him were cheek-to-cheek.
Maybe those reasons made it all the more exhilarating.
In a book written about you and Armin decades later, Mikasa wrote; the Lieutenant and Nurse Y/n were forbidden from loving each other, yet there they were that night; looking at each other with a shared tenderness. It was beautiful to witness their love before it was tainted with shame and tragedy.
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"Oh, Eren! Why are you not dancing? It's so much fun." you asked, as you and Armin emerged from the dance floor.
Armin chuckled, "You will never get him to dance." he said. "Is that so?" you looked at Eren.
Maggie piped up, "How miserable! You have the opportunity to dance with a dozen different beauties tonight, yet here you sit?"
Eren bore a stony expression at her, so Armin parroted the Commander's words to him; "Save your seriousness for the frontlines and have some fun tonight, Eren."
"Yes! Come on, join us." you encouraged him, adding: "You need to make good memories while you have the chance."
Armin contemplated why you might have said that. And then he responded, "Exactly, we need memories of a heavenly night like this to reminisce on when we're thrown into hell."
"That's true." you looked at him meaningfully.
He looked at you with a sort of glad melancholy that only a soldier could have at a farewell party.
Just before going to dance, Armin heard you let out a dreadful gasp.
"My father! Oh, what is he doing here?" you panicked, wringing your hands anxiously. Armin felt the urge to reach out and hold them.
Perhaps it was scandalous – even a bit cowardly – to grab your arm and make a break for it across the crowd. "Let's go." he said. "Let's 'go'?" you questioned.
In a flash of childlike naughtiness, the two of you escaped your approaching father; he did not even see a strand of your hair as you snuck away right under his nose with the Lieutenant.
The forbiddingness of it all made it all the more exhilarating, though neither of you addressed nor admitted it to yourselves or each other.
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"I must say, it's quite unbecoming of the Head Chief's daughter to be running away with the Commander's best soldier." you laughed breathlessly.
You and Armin panted after running out the castle to the courtyard fountain. A long path stretched out to meet an overgrown garden.
"Soldier?" Armin teased you, "What happened to 'Lieutenant'?"
Your eyes glittered at him. "I'm sorry, my Lieutenant." The moon made you two feel drunk, or maybe it was just the aftereffect of narrowly escaping your condemning father.
From afar, you could hear the ballroom resounding with joy and laughter. It faded away, the symphonic night creatures overriding it. The both of you quietly marveled the entrance to the garden; it was like a labyrinth made just for lovers who needed privacy.
"This castle used to be the old Scout's headquarters." Armin told you as you and him entered through the rusted gates. "My first mission as a Scout was to clean the whole damn thing, head to toe."
"Really!" you laughed, "That sounds like a dangerous first mission for a kid to take on." you teased.
Armin nodded, "Yeah, it was quite frightening."
The two of you found a spot under a wildly growing oak tree; the overgrowth of daisies caught Armin's eye, and he went over to them to pluck one for you.
Armin wasn't a confident man, not even in his prime; he realized in old age that he really just faked his confidence until he believed he was confident. A forced courage ran through his veins on the eve of the Farewell party, because he thought this was the last night he would see you in months, maybe even years. Of course, it wasn't, but you have to understand that at the time, when war was knocking on the doorstep, everything felt hopeless and bleak, even during moments of bliss.
Though time was flowing as fast to him as it does when observing an hourglass' sand running down, Armin tried his best to savor every moment. He let nothing take his eyes off of you.
"Lieutenant, I'm disappointed. You've been staring at me all night and yet you haven't made one comment on my dress." you teased him.
He held back a smile in a futile attempt to remain somewhat soldierly and formal. "Well, all night, I've been wondering how I should tell you that you look divine." he replied truthfully.
You felt warmth across your cheeks, tingling on the crown of your ears.
A small silence passed.
"Maggie and I spent a whole day resewing them. Ah and for what... it doesn't frame my figure well at all." you said dejectedly.
"Actually, I think it frames your figure perfectly." Armin said, voicing his mind.
You stuttered. "Oh my..."
He went pink in the face. "I'm sorry! That was too forward of me..." he said and shamefully lowered his gaze.
"It's alright." you smiled at him.
Something in the air changed. The privacy of the garden brought an intimate stillness over the two of you.
A long silence passed.
"My father didn't want me to come tonight." you said quietly, lowering your head in shame.
You and him drew as close to each other as you desired. No prying eyes were there to judge.
You added, "He and I had a fight this morning. My father's completely condemned us." you said, emphasizing 'us' enough for Armin to understand.
He heard how your throat constricted as you spoke. There was so much he wanted to say but either he couldn't or he didn't know how to.
"Lieutenant..." you whispered, stifling a small sob. He brought you closer, damning your father in his head – never aloud, he had too much respect to speak ill of him to your face.
"It's okay." Armin reassured you, drawing closer to your wettened face. "We'll keep this a secret." he said, and stroked stray tears off your cheeks.
His touch was a cooling contrast against your hot cheeks; it reminded you of dipping your hand in a river during hot Marleyan summers as a child.
You laughed through your tears, "Oh, Lieutenant, I really shouldn't let myself be enamored by you. What if you die out there? Would your soul even be able to rest peacefully?"
Armin looked at you contemplatively, remaining silent for a while before speaking again. "If I die, it will be alright, because I will die with this memory of you. And that's all I could want."
He pressed a kiss to your quivering lips.
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roohuh · 1 year
Text
An Unexpected Visitor
Obliviate prolog
Summary: MC gets a visit from a Gaunt over summer holiday. This is a prolog to my first obliviate story.
Warnings: violence, crusio curse, angst.
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You sit at a writing desk drafting Ominis a letter. The scent of summer air dancing around the room. Your family had all gone out for the afternoon to call on some friends but you elected to stay at home to pack. Only one more week you wistfully sigh. The summer holiday felt like it was dragging on due to your parents not being keen on the idea of you spending the summer in Feldcroft so you had to content yourself on copious amounts of letters. Finishing your latest letter you tuck it into your trunk as you hear a knock at your bedroom door. You open it to find your family's kind old house elf.
“Oh hello Vrokey.”
“Someone in the parlor for you ma’am” he says with a low bow.
“Oh? Who could that be?” You wonder
“A Gaunt miss” is the elf’s reply. At this your heart sings; you fly down the stairs taking multiple at a time. Swinging open the doors to the parlor you bound into the room only to stop short in your step. A tall slender woman with long platinum hair stands in the middle of the room studying a large painting of a rocky coast line hung on the wall. You clear your throat awkwardly in an effort to gain the woman’s attention. Eyes never leaving the painting she addresses you in a calm emotionless voice
“Take a seat MC.” You remain standing as you adress the woman.
“You took the words from my mouth,miss-?”
“Mrs. Gaunt.” She corrects.
“Ah.”
“You have been fraternizing with my son.” Her voice is flat, eyes fixed on the painting before her.
“I don’t know if I would call it fraternizing but yes Ominis and I are close.” You reply unsure of the woman’s intentions and are being careful to not get Ominis in any sort of trouble.
“My unfortunate child is blind and weak. I fear people often take advantage of his pathetic condition.” Her voice drips with contempt. “From henceforth you are forbidden from speaking to my son. He has obligations to carry on this family's bloodline and I will not have a simple girl such as yourself getting in the way of that.” The woman’s words light a fire beneath you before you can think you snap back,
“And if I refuse?”
“Not . An . Option.” You can hear a smile in the woman’s voice as she slowly turns towards you. “Oh I was hoping you would have some fight in you, it is no fun when there is no fight.” Before you can think to draw your wand you hear the words
“Crusio” you hit the floor all you can think to do is cry his name
“Ominis” waves of pain grip your body, never once giving you a second to breathe. Your head swims in the pain as you try to focus on getting through this and back to Hogwarts. Back to Ominis.
“Not as much fight as I had hoped.” She sighs in a bored tone as she watches you writhe.
“We agreed not to kill her.” Another voice comes from an unseen place. The pain stops and the lady gives out an annoyed huff. Mustering all of your strength you reach for your wand immediately a healed foot stomps down on your hand cruelly.
“Come now mother, have you not punished the girl enough?” The unfamiliar man’s voice rings out again.
“Don’t go soft on me now. Ominis is enough of a disappointment. I don't need you growing a soft spot now too.” She snarls, digging her heel further into your hand for emphasis.
“Father said no deaths” his voice cut out clear and dry causing the woman to waver. She looked at her grown son then back to you. She spits at in your hair before retreating.
“Fine. You take care of it then.” She snaps before she apperates out of the room. The man kneels next to you.
“I am sorry, little beauty. But I have my orders.” He pulls out his want and recites the spell
“Obliviate”
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Sorry it was so short! Felt like the other needed back story. Will be writing more along these lines hope someone likes it I know I do! 😂 anyways love anyone who read my Drabble!
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wandaslullaby · 2 years
Note
This is the first time I ever request something from anyone really, but I do love your work and know you’ll make it perfect <3
So, for my request: how about some fluff? Maybe a drabble of Wanda feeling self-conscious about her body post-pregnancy and Reader reassuring her that she’s still beautiful as always?
Take your time with it! ^^
Simple Stroke | Wanda M
summary: You decided to put your art skills to good use.
words: 1K
a/n: okay so i had the image of wanda being painted like ariana grande was in her video with the purple strokes, so invision that lmao. i really hope you like this <3 i’m contemplating if i should upload this but fuck it. 
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It’s been exactly three weeks since Wanda gave birth to two beautiful sets of twins. You will never forget the warm comfort that swirled around your heart when Tommy wrapped his tiny fingers around your thumb. It was just a beautiful moment that you couldn’t ever get rid of, and you made it a rule that every time you and Wanda would go to bed, you would whisper how grateful you were to have her. 
Ever since the birth, you haven’t stepped into your studio. You were a free lanced painter that often painted what mood you were in, in fact, you were persistent that you would paint Wanda nude, as a gift for holding your children for nine whole months.
Speaking of Wanda, you were meant to ask her if she would post nude. You haven’t really seen much of her as she was busy nurturing the kids. Before you even set up your space, you wanted Wada’s approval first. You checked the time, and it was exactly the time the twins went down for their two-hour nap, so the timing was on your side, for once. 
“Wanda? Babe? You here?” You whispered, tiptoeing around the house as you didn’t want to wake the kids. 
“In here,” Wanda whispered yelled from the bathroom. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What are you doing in the bathroom?”
“Do I look fat?” Wanda blurted out.
“Am I pregnant?” 
Wanda gave you a look, “What?”
“I thought we were saying untrue things?”
“Har-Har. I mean it, Y/N... I feel disgusting.”
You let out a sign, walking straight over to your woman wrapping your arms around her torso. “I think you are just as beautiful as you were a minute ago.”
Wanda leaned her head into your chest, “I don’t feel it.��
“Elsa? Is that you?”
Wanda immediately pushed you away and started to remove herself from the bathroom. 
“Babe. I was kidding.” You tried to explain the joke behind it but Wanda wasn’t given the expression you thought she would give.
Wanda didn’t respond.
“Wands.” You breathed. “Come with me?” 
Wanda shook her head, “I don’t want to.”
“Please?” You pouted.
You knew Wanda couldn’t escape the pout. 
“Fine. Where are we going?”
“Art studio.” You said, “I want to experiment on something…”
Wanda reluctantly agreed, taking your head and following you towards the attic where your studio was built. Wanda loved spending her time with you in here, studying your features as you painted. 
“Strip for me.” 
“No.” 
“Trust me okay?”
“I don’t want you to see me naked, I don’t look how I used to be.”
You took in a breath, “Wands. Just trust the process okay? Just lay down on your back, and let me just surprise you.”
Wanda did as she was told, stripping completely to her naked truth. She lay on the floor, grinning as she watched your pupils grow.  “What are you up to?” 
“I’m an artist. You are the canvas.” 
“What do I get out of this? And, How does this make me feel better?”
“I said, trust the process.” 
Wanda laughed, “This process better be good.”
You planted a small kiss on Wanda’s forehead, scattering around to fetch the equipment you needed. Once everything was in reach, you positioned your legs on either side of Wanda leaning down to plant a row of kisses down her belly. 
“I’m going to paint on you. I’m going to show you how beautiful you are with the marks okay?” You grinned. “Stay still and let me concentrate.” 
“Yes, ma'am.”
As you began to mix your primary colours together, you moved your free hand to draw small hearts around her chest area. “Beautiful.”
Wanda blushed, arching her back to remove a hair strand from your face. 
“Still.”
Wanda laughed at your seriousness and went back down to her position. Once the colours were to the shade you wanted, your hand moves instinctively to the right spot, just below her breast area, and you began to slowly paint strokes of mulberry purple onto her breast. 
You then went on and began to paint more strokes onto Wanda’s body praising her each time you painted over a stretch mark. “You are insanely beautiful, baby. It makes me sad that you don’t see yourself the way I see you. You are perfect, and honestly? I think I’m going to use your body as a canvas more often.”
“Is this just a way so you can see me naked?”
“No.” You frowned. “Yes.”
“You’re such a flirt.”
“Can’t help it when I have a beautiful woman to love and cherish?” 
“You really think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course I do. I think you are 10x sexier than you were before you gave birth. I have so much more to explore, and so much love to give you. I don’t think I will ever get tired of your body.”
“Gimme a kiss.” Wanda laughed. 
“Now she wants a kiss…” You muttered, leaning forward carefully as you didn’t want to ruin that artwork. 
“Now she wants a kiss… Women, I swear.”
Wanda hits you playfully, “Are you insulting me?”
“Technically, no.” 
“Just get back to work.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
After you were done with painting Wanda, you quickly toggled yourself off her, grabbing your polaroid camera. 
“A moment that lasts forever.” You whispered as you took the picture. 
As you helped Wanda up, you noticed that you both had 10 minutes to spare before the twins work up. “Do you reckon that I could have a meal before the twins wake up?”
Wanda hummed, “What would you like?”
“You.” 
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deathsmaidens · 9 days
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a am also watching the animated short right now and i just need to dump my thoughts because in the end . everything leads back to milou . so here's some hsr meta 😎👍
first of all the sapphics won y'all WE ARE WINNING im so incredibly in love with acheron and black swan
but i also get reminded of why i made a dual muse blog for hanabi and acheron. i absolutely adore both characters, of course, but it also serves as a character study on milou. i can not fucking say this enough and everyone is likely tired of my yapping already but . the love child of hanabi and acheron is fucking milou lmao
acheron's character archetype is milou at her core. hanabi's what she presents herself as, as well as what she actually permits people to know her as. take away her character's core & your left with what is essentially hanabi — shed the layers of her outter skin & what you have exposed is basically acheron
i am . in absolutely fucking AWE with how they portrayed black swan opening up doors that should have never been opened. like ren has perfectly described it — how someone like black swan can end up so utterly terrified. her immediate regret of touching something that should NOT be seen
when i talk about milou finding herself at an impasse between elation and nihility, what i mean is that exact idea of closing a door and keeping it locked.
milou's character and demeanour fundamentally build upon a nihilistic basis — this woman has no real passions, no driving motivation that dictates her every action nor a real reason to do things other than ' because she feels like it '. it's why she lives in the moment, because neither past nor future hold any substantial meaning to her. the only time she truly cares is when her own well – being, her wants ( + especially her autonomy ) or loved ones are at risk
and yet milou actively tries to combat the foundation of her person by indulging in hedonism, especially when she starts to care. love, both romantic & platonic, plays a very big role in her life. while prioritizing her own fun in life is applicable to her personal preferences, when she starts holding someone else close she practically overcompensates for her persona by completely devoting herself to them.
i don't know if words make sense and hope this doesn't read as 'xyz is true because i said so' because in the end, this intentional split of personality comes down to the simple reason that milou ... is afraid . despite all of her actions seemingly catering to her own desires, she doesn't put great importance on whether she lives or dies as long as she has a say in how her story is written.
circling back to the part about milou being afraid; yes, milou is afraid of herself. but it's not in a sense of being afraid of her own shadow, but rather what that shadow is capable of. the thing is — she has a very precise and accurate perception of herself. milou knows what her limits are — or more like the lack thereof.
" It's only when the sword is unsheathed that those hazy memories become clearer. " ⠀ [ ... ] ⠀ i can not for the life of me explain why this line means so much to me, but i'm just feral for the idea of acheron rarely unsheathing her sword & only doing so when it's absolutely necessary. again, black swan knew to get everyone the fuck out of there when sam and acheron started throwing hands because there was no guarantee for the safety of any bystanders.
this is where i'd like to draw a parallel as well as reference this previous meta post. acheron and milou, both knowing that there is no stopping them once they get serious. acheron and milou, both being self – annihilators & suffering the curse of nihility.
were milou to completely discard elation, she'd be giving into nihility & potentially falling into an abyss with no guarantee whether or not she'll be able to emerge again. it's another reason why milou is so careful on who to let close — who she allows herself to love. it's not as though she's incapable of loving someone, but it's also a matter of knowing her loved ones could handle her crossing a point of no return — or even be strong enough to keep her from getting to that point / killing her when she's become nothing but a force of destruction, rather than a person
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