#considering that a YEAR ago while planning my garden | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bia-wayne-west · 4 months

Text

Damian is going to have a little sister [Damian Wayne x Pregnant! Batmom]

Summary: You take a pregnancy test and find out you are pregnant. You will have a little girl. Bruce, Alfred and their other three children are happy, except Demian. Your fourth baby is jealous of the new member of the family.

Personagens: Bruce Wayne [Batman], Damian Wayne [Robin], Dick Grayson [Nightwing], Jason Todd [Red hood], Tim Drake [Red Robin] and Reader [You]

Word count: 1,366

Warnings: jealousy, fear of abandonment and pregnancy.

A / N: Hi. I planned this fanfiction months ago, but I only had time to write today. I always imagined what it would be like if Batmom got pregnant. Demian would probably be jealous and wouldn't admit it. So, I decided to write about it.

I hope you like the imagine

Remember that I am a Brazilian girl. I am not fluent in English and I am still learning. I apologize if I have any errors. Feel free to correct me.

Go and read my other stories on my MASTERLIST.

REQUEST ARE OPEN. Do not be shy. Ask as many imagines as you want.

The test in your hands had two blue lines and your face had a huge smile. You had some suspicions, but you never imagined that after eight years of marriage, you would have a baby in your womb.

You thought you must be sterile because you had never been pregnant before, and even though the doctors said you were healthy, you didn't believe them. The test in your hand was proof that you were going to have five babies now.

You left the bathroom, putting the test in your pants pocket. The first person you saw when you left the master suite was Alfred. He will just come out of one of the guest rooms.

You ran to the butler you considered your second father. Alfred looked at you, thinking you were going to ask for something.

“Alfred, I'm pregnant!” You said it quickly, not having the courage to repeat it. The old man in front of you looked at you with wide eyes. After five seconds, he smiled at you.

It was difficult to make Alfred smile. He always maintained his serious appearance.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne. It’s great news.” Alfred said.

You showed the butler the pregnancy test. He congratulated her again and left, with the excuse that he had to clean Timothy's room. You could see a big smile on Alfred's face as he walked down the stairs to the second floor.

You remembered that Bruce was on the Wayne Enterprise, running some errands and that he wouldn't be back until after 8pm. Dick and Jason went to Wally West's house to play basketball. Timothy was at school.

Demian was the only one at home. He was probably in his room or in the garden with Titus.

You walked to the room that had the 'Do Not Enter' sign. You knocked on the door a few times, hearing your son's voice telling you that you could come in.

“Hi, my love.” You said to Damian, who was playing videogame. He was sitting on the bed. The boy smiled at you.

"Hi mommy. Did something happen?" He questioned, his eyes anxious.

You sat on the bed too, watching your son continue to play his game, but he was paying attention to you. .

“I have something new to tell you. I found out today, so only you and Alfred know about it.” You said, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test to show Damian.

The boy looked at the object curiously, until he realized what it really was. He looked at you in amazement, as if he thought it was just a joke.

"You are pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yes." After you nodded, you saw him give you a sad smile.

“I think this is amazing news, Mom,” Damian said. He no longer looked you in the eye, focusing his attention on the television while he played.

"Are you okay, darling?" You questioned, moving closer to Damian.

The boy just nodded, and didn't look at you anymore. Then, you realized that he didn't like the news, and preferred to leave him alone. You knew Damian didn't like expressing his feelings.

"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen" You said, leaving your son's room and walking down the hallway.

As soon as Bruce arrived and you told him you were pregnant, he had the best reaction possible. Your husband was extremely happy and excited. And Dick, Jason and Tim also loved having a new little brother.

The weeks passed very quickly, and soon became months, and suddenly, you were seven months pregnant. You had already done all the ultrasounds and discovered that you were having your first daughter. You were excited to have a little princess, and Jason and Dick started teasing Bruce about how he really was a girl's daddy.

Everyone in your family seemed to be happy, except Damian. He never said out loud that he hated the baby, but you could see that he stopped wanting to spend time with you. The boy spent more time in his room or in the Batcave, avoiding being close to you. Bruce said the boy would accept that he would have a sister after the baby was born, but you knew you had to have a talk with Damian.

You walked slowly down to the clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. It was difficult to walk with swollen feet. You knew that Bruce was on patrol, but that he left Damian on the Batcomputer. As soon as you got out of the elevator, you saw your son look at you, but quickly turn away. You walked over to Damian, giving him a gentle smile. The boy didn't look at you again.

"Hello, my dear." You said.

He didn't answer you, and started pretending to type on the keyboard.

"I wanted to talk to you a little."

Damian just grumbled.

"I know you're sad about my pregnancy." You said. "But you know that in two months there will be a baby here."

He continued ignoring you.

"If it's because of your father, you know Bruce loves all his children equally." You commented. "And that no baby in this world will make your father love you less."

Damian finally turned around, looking at you. He had red eyes, looking like he was going to cry.

"It's not about my father." He said. "Is you!" He exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"You know!" He roared. "You were the first person who liked me, even though you knew I was Bruce's biological son and that I was conceived when he was drugged by Talia." Damian continued speaking. "And now, you will have your own daughter. Who has your blood and Bruce's"

You looked at him, surprised.

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave you aside?" You wanted to know.

"My brothers don't seem to see what's going to happen. That you and Bruce are going to love the baby more than we do." He started to cry. "I love you and my dad, and I know that now you will have your own family."

You said, walking over to your son. You held him by the shoulders, making him face you.

"Damian, that will never happen!" You exclaimed. "You, Dick, Jason and Tim never stopped being my kids, my little birds."

He looked away, looking embarrassed.

"I thought you wouldn't treat me like your son anymore" He said.

"It's normal for you to be jealous and afraid of losing all the attention you receive, but I want you to know that our relationship will never change." You commented. "Now that the problem has been resolved, do you want to go upstairs so we can make some cupcakes together?"

Damian quickly got up from the chair he was in, and threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. He placed his head on your chest, and surprisingly, you felt him caressing your belly for the first time. You lowered your head to look at your son, smiling at him.

"Yes, I want to go make cupcakes, Mommy." He said, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his tear-stained face.

You and Damian went up to the house, leaving the Batcave. He started talking to you again, saying that he had had a brief fight with Jon Kent, but that they had already made up. He also told you that he was doing a literature project for school in a group, and that it was very easy.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, you grabbed all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and started mixing the cupcake batter, while Damian mixed the frosting. He told you that he wanted to color the cupcakes green and red, so you grabbed the food coloring from the pantry, letting him make the frosting any color he wanted.

Once the more than twenty cupcakes were ready, you and Damian sat on the counter while eating, talking excitedly about how the last few months had been when Damian had avoided you.

"Mother?" He caught your attention. "It'll be good to be a big brother."

You gave him a huge smile, and then kissed your son's cheek.

#imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fluffy #fic #cute #you #dc comics #dc #batman #batkids #damian wayne #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batkids x reader #batkids x batmom #you x batman

855 notes · View notes

caelivir · 3 days

Text

shrimply in love | miya atsumu

synopsis. atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.

pairing. atsumu miya x gn!reader | wc. 2.1k | genres. timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, atsumu is soooo down bad | warnings. (minor?) manga spoilers

notes. outing myself as a hq fan and atsumu lover LOOK AWAY. this was inspired by a tiktok i saw LMFAO 😭. i was up until dawn, on my phone, in the drafts writing this that’s how bad it was. there's something additional to this so stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy.

“tsumu!” you call out from the couch while he’s in the bathroom connected to your shared room. “can you get my wallet? it’s on the bed.”

“sure thing, baby!” he answers back.

“thanks love!” you reply, the petname making him grin in the mirror. it gets him every single time.

after drying off his hands with a towel, atsumu doubles back to the bedroom, your wallet immediately catching his eye. he picks it up, and as he does, something slips out from the crevices.

atsumu picks it up and inspects it. it’s a folded slip of paper. curious, he unfolds it to examine its contents. reading it puts him in shock, and now he’s mildly annoyed with you.

he rushes out of the room, stomping over to you like a little kid. you raise an eyebrow in amusement when he stops in front of the couch.

“baby, what the hell?!” he whines, holding the paper out in front of you for you to read. confused, you lean closer, letting your eyes scan it before laughing out loud. it’s a guest check from the day you first met.

“what?! it’s cute!” you defend with a smile.

“it’s horrifying. do you even know how embarrassing this was for me?” atsumu pouts.

“oh believe me i know.” you giggle.

three years ago.

after a hard won victory, the msby jackals were craving a celebratory meal. meian had suggested a new italian restaurant that had opened by the arena. there was a unanimous agreement among the team, except for sakusa. however, bokuto had managed to convince him to come along with enough pestering.

so there they were, a group of guys well over six foot (with the exception of hinata and inunaki), sharing what’s probably the largest table at the restaurant. it drew tons of attention, and there were even some fans who came up to them for pictures and autographs.

then you came by, ready to take orders, and atsumu knew in that moment he was an absolute goner for you. your beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. you were prettier than those models on the ads he walked by, prettier than the flowers in his mother’s gardens, prettier than sunsets on a beach. and god, your smile. his head went all fuzzy at the sight of it. it melted his insides.

you chuckled at whatever bokuto animatedly said before moving onto atsumu. you looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with so much light that it jumbled the blonde’s brain. shit. what did he want to order?

atsumu’s eyes quickly racked through the menu, and his mouth fired off an order before his brain could process what he was reading. “uh, could i get the shrimps camping?”

a silence befell amongst the table before a collective cackle filled the restaurant. realizing what slipped out of his mouth, atsumu’s face turned red. his cheeks were embarrassingly hot.

mortified. he was absolutely fucking mortified. even that asshole omi-kun found it funny. it didn’t help that you were suppressing a smile at him too. he didn’t even bother with the damage control. there was no point. he’d only embarrass himself further.

with a giggle, you made a note of it on the guest check you were writing up because at least you knew what he was referring to. atsumu buried his face in his hands. see in his head, the setter had come up with a plan to ask for your number, but now he was never even going to walk down this street ever again. his chances? consider them blown.

“alright, alright,” you said after the laughter had died down. you fire off orders to confirm everything, and then you get to atsumu. “and… one shrimps camping.”

“you’re killing me.” atsumu groaned, feeling a new wave of embarrassment now that you were teasing him.

“it’s my job.” you shrugged before walking off with a wink. the blonde felt his heart skip a beat.

“don’t sweat it, atsumu-san!” shoyo clapped his back reassuringly. at least he could leave it to the ginger to always have his back.

it took a minute, but the team had finally moved on from atsumu’s slip up. unfortunately, it was all the setter could think about. god, what if you teased him once you came back with the plates?

luckily for him, it didn’t happen. you just tossed him a knowing grin when you presented him his food. he stared down at those shrimp dancing in the sauce, knowing he’s never ordering fuckass shrimp scampi ever again, and dug in. (it’s the most delicious thing to have graced his tastebuds.)

atsumu, contrary to previous thoughts, did end up coming back to the italian restaurant in the hopes that he could see you. he realized that he wasn’t going to allow one fuck up ruin the chances of having you. atsumu miya is many things. annoying, rude, loud, but a quitter? that’s not one of them.

it was a weekly occurrence, and atsumu would try something different from the menu each time.

“no shrimp scampi?” you would smirk.

“no…” atsumu would sigh, feeling the jab in his bones before handing you his menu. “no shrimp scampi.”

conversations became more casual. he learned more about you like how you were in your final year of university and that your favorite men’s volleyball team was ejp raijin. (he was definitely going to change that.) each week the blonde setter visited you during week made him fall for you even more. all of these little things accumulated until atsumu finally got the balls to ask you out.

“what would you like today, atsumu?” you greeted, that soft angelic grin on your face, and he just knew he had to do it. he couldn’t ever let you go.

“you. me. a date.” he said casually, his eyes dripping with confidence. (interally, he was freaking out).

you tried maintaining your composure but failed so miserably. you couldn’t stop the smile that reached your eyes as soon as you heard those eyes. “i thought you would never ask.” you beamed at him.

chewing on your lower lip, you motioned for him to give you hand, to which he most happily obliged. your touch was a new heaven. so warm and so soft. he wished to be wrapped in it forever.

you held his hand steady as the tip of your pen scribbled on his skin. when atsumu looked down, he realized it to be your number, and his eyes stared at it in awe.

“text me.” you told him before walking off. then you stopped in your tracks, turning yourself back around until you’re back at atsumu’s table. “wait, shit. what do you want to eat?”

oh. he had completely forgotten about that. atsumu picked up the menu and quickly scanned for a fun dish name. “um, just the pizza napoletana and garlic bread.”

“you got it.” you noted it down. followed by, “no shrimp scampi?”

“(y/n), please. i feel like i’m flying right now, and you’re killing my mood.” atsumu’s face fell, feigning fake irritation, but you knew better.

you laughed. “alright, alright. i’ll be back soon.”

“you better be.” the setter scoffed before his face betrayed his true feelings.

and before you knew it, one date became two, then three, then four, and the rest was history, shrimp scampi along with it.

at least, that’s what atsumu thought.

“i thought you completely forgot about it.” atsumu whines.

you laugh, standing up from your place on the couch. “how could i ever forget that? i stopped the jokes because you got all sulky. besides, that’s how my little infatuation with you began.”

once you’re directly in front of him, atsumu places his hands on your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. without even thinking, your hand finds its way to the back of his head, stroking it with affection. “of all things? not my good looks? or my nice arms? ” the blonde murmurs into your skin.

you hum in agreement. “well that came after.” your boyfriend groans, making you roll your eyes.

“i don’t think i ever told you this, but i was having a really rough shift the night the team came in. when you guys were put into my section, i nearly lost it.” you admit. “but then you asked for shrimps camping, and i lightened up, like all of my negative energy just drained out of my body. seeing you all flustered and blushing was so adorable in my eyes.”

your boyfriend pulls back, his face scrunched. “i didn’t realize you were in a foul mood that night.”

“had to fake it. you know how customer service is.” you shrug, a smirk taking over your face soon after. “but you were too busy admiring me to even notice it.”

atsumu grins smugly. he’s not even ashamed. “that i was.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re hopeless.”

the blonde setter hums, leaning in, and you meet him halfway, kissing him gently. atsumu’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against his body. you feel his lips twitch into a smile.

you’re the first to pull away, but your boyfriend is unsatisfied with that. he presses his lips to yours once again before you could even get another breath in. it’s a kiss full of affirmations that atsumu can’t voice. you feel it all through him. he’s so greedy when it comes to you, but he’d definitely agree with that statement without any complaint.

to atsumu, kissing you is a new kind of euphoria, one better than any service ace, better than any cool quick that he pulls off with his hitters. kissing you is like falling in love with you again, and it’s single-handedly the best feeling in the entire world.

he pulls away first with a proud smile. he steals a quick peck against your lips, then your nose, and then the rest of your face until you’re drowning in his affection.

you giggle, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “tsumu!”

atsumu sighs contentedly. his large hand cups your cheek. the rough skin of his thumb traces up and down your face. it’s so reassuring and so warm that you can’t help but lean into it.

“i love you, angel. y’know that right?” atsumu stares at you, adoration swimming in his eyes. everyday, he can’t believe that he gets to have you. he can’t believe he gets to come home and you’ll be there waiting for him, ready to hold him in your arms and kiss his knuckles when he tells you about his day.

you adjust your head ever so slightly to kiss his palm. “i know it. you never fail to make it known.”

you’ve come to realize that that’s who he is. your sweet boy, atsumu miya, is so full of love. behind the brashness and the insults, he has so much love in his heart that some days he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“i love you so much, atsumu miya. you are my life.” you whisper, bringing him in for another soul-igniting, cavity-inducing kiss. it’s intense, hotter, but that is just life with atsumu, a blaze of passion and fierceness.

you can feel him melt against you as if this is his first time doing this with you. you can feel him reciprocating your words. you know him so well that you can guess the words that follow. “all for me. my sweet angel. what did i do to deserve you?”

a memory springs to mind, causing you to cut the moment short as much as you’d like to continue. atsumu pouts at the loss of your lips against his. such a kid. still, he looks at you expectantly.

“i have to admit,” you’re kind of excited to see how he’ll react to it. “the entire restaurant knows you as the shrimps camping guy.”

atsumu stiffens against your body, and the horrified look on his face makes you burst out laughing. “you’re lying. (y/n), tell me you’re lying.”

“i’m sorry, my love. it’s true.” you reach out for his hand, but the blonde playfully shrugs it off.

“don’t touch me. how could you do this to me, huh? i thought we were for life!” atsumu turns away from you, shutting his eyes.

you roll your eyes. you should’ve expected this. in situations like these, there is one sentence that will make him forget everything immediately. “if i kiss you, will you forgive me?”

atsumu snaps his head back to you, and his eyes fly open, allowing you to catch the light that sparkles in them as he smiles widely. he’s so beautiful. “really?!” he exclaims but leaves no room for you to respond before he’s crashing your mouths together for the fourth time. you roll your eyes in disbelief but give into him immediately.

atsumu miya is so annoying, but he’s yours, and you wouldn’t give him up for anyone else in the world.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq #hq x reader #fluff #hq fluff #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #from kor ; ♆

340 notes · View notes

written-in-flowers · 7 months

Text

Be the Light: Pt. 3 (SeongjoongxFem!reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word Count: 6k

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.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @tunaasan @lelaleleb @sevngmin148 @meljoongiee @puppyminnnie @sunasmoke22 @kyourixr @yoongiigolden @lynnsqueendom @atinycafe @soocore @ethereally-lyann @blackbutterfly133 @ddaeing @pearltinyy @raviollirin

Huge thanks to my lovely beta reader @daesukiii 💕💕

Part 2 < | > Part 4

***

The palace temple was built by the first King of Hanseong, one of Sookmyung’s ancestors, many years ago. Walking through the temple’s zen garden, a small pond area guarded by stone statues of gods, Hongjoong and Seonghwa did not meet anyone during their walk. Hardly anyone visited the palace temple anymore, and since Sookmyung did not care about it, the area became overgrown by wildlife and dense foliage. Both men struggled to find the path at times, and once or twice one of them ran into garden snakes. But, eventually they saw the stone and wood structure in the middle of a clearing. Hongjoong saw a stone buddha statue eroded by age and weather in front of several kneeling cushions on the ground. The place overall carried a tranquil silence that he worried might break at the slightest sound. He’d expected they’d be alone, but he’d been wrong.

Sitting in her usual wheelchair, Queen Mother Jisoo sat with her hands folded over her lap and head bowed in prayer. On a cushion beside her was Chaewon, her handmaiden. This sudden appearance of Sookmyung’s mother raised their suspicions. The small offerings placed in front of the statue implied she visited often, and she appeared entirely at peace. Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa, and saw the caution in his eyes. They walked slowly and quietly behind the two women, taking their own cushions and sitting in silence. Hongjoong wondered how long the pair planned to be here. What if their contact backs away because he saw Jisoo and Chaewon? Then, he’d never learn of their plan. He’d considered leaving and waiting in the bushes before another figure joined them.

Senior Advisor Choi Wonshik. He came unaccompanied this time, in his usual official robes and gat. A quick glance to them with a bow was returned before he took a cushion beside Hongjoong. Another person to scare off his contact. Hongjoong had given Seonghwa a look before Jisoo spoke first.

“What do you pray for, Hongjoong?”

Jisoo’s voice broke the garden’s tranquil silence, as soothing as the water falling into the pond nearby. Hongjoong and Seonghwa looked at one another, then at Wonshik, who smiled serenely with his head bowed. Chaewon showed a similar expression, not looking over at him or anyone else. He thought about what he could possibly say to Sookmyung’s mother. It’d be wrong to tell her ‘your daughter’s downfall’ out loud and to her face.

“For home,” Seonghwa said from beside him.

Hongjoong whipped his head over to him, but Jisoo spoke first. “As do all of us,” she beckoned Chaewon to stand, and the woman moved to turn her chair around and face them. The lines around her mouth and her eyes showed signs of a woman who’d laughed and lived well. Her eyes, while similar to Sookmyung, did not hold viciousness but rather warmth.

She smiled at them both, “This country is my home. I spent many years of my life dedicated to leaving it better than when I first came into power. I pray for its safety and wellbeing every morning, afternoon, and night. I pray that the crops will be fruitful this harvest, and that we will never see another war or famine again. My prayers are the only thing left to me since my daughter was crowned queen.”

“It is the only thing many of us have left,” added Wonshik. “I pray for strength,” he told them, “And for patience. I pray that one day the dignity of The Crown is restored, and that when people see our banners, they do not cower in fear but instead feel comforted.”

“I pray for the good health of the people,” said Chaewon, “And for the protection of my daughter, YN.”

“As we should,” said Wonshik.

Suddenly everything made sense. He looked over at Chaewon, then Wonshik, then at Jisoo.

“We may speak plainly,” Jisoo declared. “I told the guards to leave this place, and this temple has been banned since Sookmyung became queen. This means you can remove those ridiculous veils and let me see your handsome faces."

Tentatively, Hongjoong and Seonghwa removed their veils and Jisoo beamed brightly at them. She examined Seonghwa first, clearly admiring his jawline and wide eyes. Hongjoong saw her nod her head in approval.

"Just as handsome as you are intelligent," she concluded. "One might have thought you'd been sculpted by gods if they saw you."

Seonghwa bowed his head appreciatively. She did the same with Hongjoong, studying his features closely. His cheeks blushed being observed like a painting or statue sold at auction. He looked over to Wonshik, who appeared to be doing the same from where he sat. But, it was Chaewon who spoke.

"He looks like a true prince, doesn't he, Your Majesty?" She grinned fondly.

"No, not a prince," Jisoo said. She met his eyes when she said, "A king."

Her words left him speechless. He eyed her closely, searching for a lie in her face. This woman is Sookmyung’s mother; her being part of a resistance against her sounded too good to be true. Hongjoong never knew Jisoo to scold or criticize her daughter. More often than not, she remained neutral and kept to herself in the palace. Seeing The Queen Mother was rarer than seeing a concubine. He couldn’t imagine her wanting to depose her own child. When she moved away, he spoke.

“What did we meet here for?” he asked her, “To talk of prayers? Changbin’s message mentioned another heir.”

“How can that be?” Seonghwa asked after him.

“Sookmyung has a twin sister.”

The news shocked the two men. “A twin?” Hongjoong furrowed his brow, “Where? How? If there is someone walking around with Sookmyung’s face, then they would’ve been found before now.”

“I married King Siwon when I was nineteen-years-old,” she started. “Being the King, Siwon had a multitude of responsibilities. I only had one: to produce heirs for the throne. I’m sad to say it was the only thing I could not do. Siwon and I spent five years of our marriage trying for a child, and failing. Every pregnancy I did have never carried to term or came out ill and died or was a stillborn,” Hongjoong saw the discomfort in her face speaking about it. “I felt like a failure. I loved Siwon, and I knew how much he wanted a child, and I’d disappointed him. Those snakes at court began whispering that perhaps I was barren or I had a disease preventing me from having a healthy child. I had to do something. I knew if I failed to produce an heir, they might demand an annulment and Siwon and I would be separated forever.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I prayed,” she answered. “I prayed right here in this temple. Chaewon was there,” she lifted a hand which Chaewon took in her own, “And she prayed with me. I prayed for fertility, for a healthy child, and to bring honor to my family. The next time Siwon and I made love, a month later I was declared pregnant. I spent most of my pregnancy bed ridden, since I feared the slightest movement might make me lose the child inside me. The physicians checked on me night and day, giving me herbal teas and acupuncture treatments for the baby. It was a painful experience, but Siwon said the result would be worth the struggle.” She then said, “Then, on the fourteenth night on the eighth moon twenty-four years ago, I finally gave birth to my child. She came into the world crying and screaming, and by all accounts was perfectly healthy. I’d done my duty to my family, and I’d finally gotten the one thing I’d always wanted: a child.

“But then, I felt another pain and the physician said I was going into labor again. Out came a second girl, quieter than the first and whimpering softly, but also completely healthy. Siwon saw the crisis before anyone else did. He said he’d seen dynasties be torn apart by a succession dispute…” she paused, gulping thickly as she said, “And said one of the girls would have to go.”

“What? That’s awful,” said Seonghwa softly. “He forced you to part from your own child to avoid a war over the throne?”

“That’s what he believed he was doing,” she replied. Chaewon put both her hands on Jisoo’s shoulders, and the queen touched one of them still. “I knew he was right. My own family went through a similar struggle when my father died, and I did not wish to see my children be torn apart because of a silly chair. I told my husband I understood his reasoning, but I did not wish to be fully separated from my child. I begged him to let the girl remain in the palace; I told him we can pass her off as somebody’s else’s child, and nobody would have to know outside of a select few. The girls looked nothing alike, so it wasn’t as if anyone would suspect.”

Hongjoong sensed the end of this story, and he couldn’t believe it at all.

“Then, I turned to my closest friend,” she smiled up at Chaewon, “Who’d held my hand throughout my labors and been there every step of the way. She’d suffered similar fertility issues with her husband, who couldn’t produce enough sperm to give her a child. I offered the younger of the two to her,” she looked back at them, “And she’d live as Chaewon and Hyungshik’s daughter instead.”

“YN…” your name escaped his lips softly. “No, that’s…YN and Sookmyung could not be any different from one another. Firstly, their appearances alone are vastly different, and their demeanors…YN, she’s…She’s too sweet to have shared a womb with a monster like Sookmyung. How would you have kept this from other servants? Gossip spreads in this place like wildfire. If Queen Jisoo had two twins, people would have known in seconds.”

“And if Chaewon didn’t have a child one day, was never pregnant, and suddenly produced one,” added Seonghwa, “Might raise suspicions.”

“I told people my husband and I adopted a baby from the city orphanage,” Chaewon said.

“And the only people in the birthing room that night were myself, the king, the physician, Chaewon and Wonshik,” Jisoo replied. “Everyone involved was sworn to secrecy. Physician Yoon passed away some years after the twins’ birth, so it was one less person. Han YN became Park YN, and she has lived as Chaewon and Hyungshik’s adopted daughter ever since. I demanded that YN and Sookmyung live side-by-side like sisters, being companions as children before YN became her handmaiden.”

“It was His Majesty’s wish that YN be educated alongside Sookmyung,” said Wonshik. “I think when Sookmyung’s nature began to show, he started regretting his decision to separate the twins. I suggested he reveal his deception to the people, and claim YN as his daughter, but he refused. He was too proud to admit he’d made a mistake, and too optimistic that Sookmyung’s wild behavior was a phase she’d grown out of in adulthood.”

“He also feared what Sookmyung might do if she found out she had a sister,” Jisoo admitted to them. “You two saw what she’d done to those who had claims to the throne, no matter how distant. I knew telling her would put YN’s life in danger.”

“Then why are you bringing this to light now?” asked Hongjoong, appalled by their confessions. “Sookmyung is the queen. She is the most powerful person in the country. She has men who will torture and kill people at the first word, and will not hesitate to do it herself. She’ll kill YN and get away with it,” he couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. “We can’t let anyone else know. If Sookmyung should ever think YN is-”

“-Sookmyung needs to be stopped,” Jisoo cut him off firmly. “I love my daughter. I have loved her despite her faults and wrongdoings. I did my best to raise her to be a proper lady of the realm, and prepare her for her ascension. But, I must accept the truth: my daughter is not the person I’d hoped she’d become.”

“She never was,” said Wonshik. “Ever since her girlhood, Queen Sookmyung has been vicious, manipulative, aggressive and cruel. You cannot deny this, Your Majesty,” he told her, “I told your husband that naming Sookmyung his heir would be a mistake.”

“Then who would he have named? His incompetent brother? His people-pleasing sister?” she snapped at him. “I don’t know if you remember, Senior Advisor, but my daughter had most of my husband’s family killed during the war. There are so few claimants left, and they’d be too frightened to challenge Sookmyung.” She turned back to Hongjoong, “YN is our only hope at saving this kingdom from open warfare.”

“Warfare? Do you believe the rebels are strong enough to engage?” asked Seonghwa, sitting back on his haunches and putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “From what I’ve always understood the rebel forces to be ill equipped and nothing more than commoners with pitchforks?”

“And that is the exact image we want Sookmyung to have,” Wonshik told him. “I can assure you that the rebels are more than farmers and fishermen. Her Majesty and I have managed to rally some supporters from the other cities. Daegu, Jeonju, and Pyongyang have all given their support to our cause, and minor lords in Gangwon-do and Jeju-do gave theirs as well. I have close friends here at court who will be on YN's side when we finally usurp Sookmyung.”

“It will not be an easy transition, Senior Advisor,” said Seonghwa. “The people only know Sookmyung; they do not know YN. If they hear she is a twin, they may assume she shares Sookmyung’s behaviors. I don’t know if you’re aware, sir, but Sookmyung forces YN to participate in the torture and abuse a majority of the time. It’s a strange intimacy the both of them have. They might believe she’s the same or worse.”

“Which is why we must show them that YN is tender-hearted and gentle,” he replied. “Have her go into the city, meet her people and speak to them face-to-face. Reinstate the protection laws and charities Sookmyung banned or removed. She can repair damages done across the kingdom and lower taxation and those ridiculous tributes Sookmyung demands. The people will see that she is vastly different from their previous queen.”

“And she’ll have something Sookmyung has not had in the eight years of her reign,” said Jisoo. “The thing her advisors have hounded her about for years.”

“What?”

“A husband,” she eyed Hongjoong when she said this. “Not only a husband, but a husband who’d been a prince of Wonju, the rebel base and rallying point of the rebellion.”

“Should peace be restored, I’d return to Wonju to rule,” said Hongjoong. “My whole family is dead. There’d be nobody to take my place.”

“That is not entirely true, young prince,” Wonshik said. “There is your cousin, Jeongin.”

“Jeongin?” He lifted an eyebrow. Hongjoong remember his youngest cousin, and said, “He was killed by Sookmyung’s guards the day they sacked the city.”

“No, he wasn’t,” he said. “Wonju loyalists managed to smuggle him out right as the fighting began. He has been living in the countryside ever since. The people in charge of him have been preparing him to be your steward in Wonju. You would be here with YN, ruling at her side, while giving him control of Wonju in your place.” When he saw Hongjoong’s hesitation, he added, “Jeongin is the same kind, caring boy you remember. He would make a great steward.”

“And it’d rebuild the alliance Wonju and Hanseong once had,” said Jisoo. “I don’t believe Wonju’s bannermen would agree to any ties with Hanseong without a marriage pact. Even if you have not been in Wonju, the people there still stand with you, Hongjoong. You are their king. You can be my daughter’s king consort, be at her side and guide her.” She then grinned slyly, "Unless you do not want her?”

"Of course I do," he blurted out without thinking. "I mean, I do like her. I think YN could be a good queen with the right counsel, but Sookmyung…"

Hongjoong did not want to imagine what horrors she'd have in store for you. Sookmyung held you very close to her heart. Should she believe you're conspiring against her, she'll see it as the deepest of betrayals. Hongjoong refused to let her dangle you from a ceiling or shove you in a horrific box. He'd kill her before he let that happen.

"What are your plans for Sookmyung?" Seonghwa asked when Hongjoong failed to respond.

"She will be arrested and put on trial," said Wonshik

"On what charges?"

"Crimes she committed during the war," he explained. "The murder and torture of prisoners of war, purposefully attacking civilian towns and taking hostages are only a few named."

"You cannot arrest a queen."

"You can if she has been deposed," he corrected him. "If the council decides Sookmyung is unfit as queen, she will be replaced by YN, therefore removing her titles. Up until now, most of the officials feared retaliation from her for speaking out, but I have convinced the Head Advisors to join me."

"Is she not supposed to be there when the ruling is made? That is part of the law."

"Smart boy," Wonshik smiled at him, "But there is a loophole in this law."

"Is there?"

"The ruling monarch does not have to be present for every council meeting," he said, "And Sookmyung never comes to any of them. We always come to decisions on our own, and present them to her for approval."

"And this ruling can be made during one of these meetings," concluded Seonghwa. "She will not go quietly, you know. She will try to flee."

"We have no doubt about that," he replied. "Do not worry. I have many things in place to make sure she is detained."

"And when is this supposed to happen?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight? So soon? Why?"

"Because it is crucial we do it as soon as possible," he said. “Her Majesty will set up a place for Sookmyung to be, we will wait until she is unsuspecting, and then confront her. We will have supporters around us to step in if need be.”

"The only person we are waiting on is you, Your Grace," Jisoo said to him gently. "Will you accept my daughter’s hand in marriage and be her king consort? Help us reunite the kingdoms and restore peace?"

His eyes began to sting. Nobody had called him 'Your Grace' in a very long time. He didn't think he'd ever be called that again. Thinking deeply, Naeun came to mind. If he refused, everything she suffered would be for nothing. He remembered her lifeless body laying on the hard straw, broken bones protruding from her skin and her eye swollen shut. She died with the hope that one day her home will be as she remembered. Hongjoong then thought of you. As your king consort, he could be around you whenever he liked. He could speak to you, laugh with you, kiss and hold you the way he dreamed. You would be his, and you could restore the kingdom together.

"Yes," he nodded. "Yes, I will."

For home.

****

"-He kept crying all the way back," she huffed. "I thought, being a man, that he'd have a higher tolerance for it."

You knelt at Sookmyung’s side by the low dining table. The afternoon light shone in through the open windows, their borders creating shapes on the floors. Along with it came a cool spring breeze that kissed your warm cheeks. You hated it when Sookmyung recounted her nights in the dungeon. It sickened your stomach, and only brought on more haunting visions. You laddled egg soup into a bowl for her, stirred it around a few times, then placed it in front of her.

“You’re a woman and you have a stronger stomach than him,” she said, spooning soup into her mouth.

“I am sure Hongjoong was only overwhelmed by experiencing so much so quickly,” you told her. You sliced toasted bread, putting a small pot of honey and jaw in front of her. “You should have started small, perhaps The Box or The Bull. You know, an act he doesn’t see but hears instead. It lets his mind fill in the blank spaces.”

“Hm,” she mused, sipping more soup from her bowl, “I suppose you’re right. I may have been a bit hasty in my excitement to show him the chamber. I thought…” she hesitated, “I thought he might understand. I thought he’d enjoy it the way we do.” She pondered over her soup, pushing the strings of egg with her spoon. “I was wrong.” You saw her fingers grip the spoon tightly, her eyes narrowed at the bowl as it’d wronged her.

“Things like the dungeon take a bit of getting used to,” you told her. “I am sure with time, he will come to enjoy it with you.”

You sat back on your legs and watched her eat. Your own stomach growled quietly, and rumbled in your gut the longer you lingered on the food. The porridge you’d eaten this morning had since been digested, and left you hungry again. You did not know what plans Sookmyung had for the day, since she never concerned herself with the day-to-day work of a queen. The advisors usually held meetings in the morning, then approached her with their decisions some time in the day. Having started her day late, you’re sure they’ll wait until much later to discuss any rulings they’ve made. A part of you believed the council made decisions and put them into action without Sookmyungs’s knowledge sometimes. It is not as if she cared anyway.

“You’re the only person I can share my chambers with,” she said. “You’re the only one who understands.”

Unfortunately, she was right. While Sookmyung’s ‘experiments’ and ‘delights’ haunted your dreams and churned your stomach, you’d begun to understand why she must hurt others. It made sense when you thought about it. Relishing in the pain of others gave her a gratification she couldn’t find anywhere else. Hurting them, controlling when the pain began and ended simulated a power reserved for gods, and not men. You often stood by as she forcibly shoved a man into a box full of venomous scorpions and spiders, and saw the glee in her face. You’d see her carve a man’s face off to place maggots on the red flesh, then stand to watch him writhe in agony. It was abhorrent to anyone else. It was fun for Sookmyung. The fact that her treasured flower did not revel in the torture with her must’ve upset her deeply. Hongjoong having cried at whatever befell the assassin angered Sookmyung. Watching her stir her soup around before eating it, you worried she might decide she no longer wants Hongjoong.

He may end up in The Box next.

“Will you take him back there?” you asked her, pouring milk into a cup for her to drink.

“I wanted to, but the assassin died in the night,” she scoffed. She ate another piece of kimchi, chewing on the fermented vegetable before saying, “You should have seen her, YN. I think you would have admired her resistance.”

“Did she reveal any information to you?”

“No,” she shook her head, “Those rebel bastards should start finding smarter people. The guards say they found her climbing over the garden wall, waiting in the trees by the corner. You’d think an assassin might be smarter than that.”

“Hubris,” you said, “That was her mistake.”

She grinned, “And stupidity. What made her think she could ever possibly put her knife to my throat?”

“Pride or desperation. One of the two, I suspect.”

Sookmyung then changed to another topic, a smirk lifting a corner of her mouth, “You never answered me last night.”

“Your Majesty?” you dug your nails into your skirt. Another test was coming, you knew it.

“I asked if San was your type.”

“I told you he was not, Your Majesty.”

Your cheeks burned recalling the previous night. You are certain Sookmyung had no intention of letting you lay with one of her flowers. She only wanted to embarrass you further in front of people. Like with her victims, she controlled your life. She’d also control any lover you took up. She’d kill them if she didn’t approve.

“YN, I cannot find you a proper husband unless you tell me,” she said irritably. She then sneered, “Or, maybe, you don’t like men at all.”

“Wha-what?” your eyes widened at the implication, and you shook your head. “Your Majesty, I assure you I do prefer me-”

“-There is nothing wrong with liking the same sex, YN. There are places all over the world where women couple with women,” she cupped your chin so you looked at her. Her thumb traced your bottom lip line as she said, “I sometimes wish I’d been the boy my father had wanted. Then, this marriage situation could be easily solved.” She moved away from her bowl to sit closer to you. You shivered as her fingers pushed stray strands of hair away, “I could marry the prettiest, loveliest woman I know, and make her mine.” When you looked away in embarrassment, she cackled, “Such a flustered little virgin. There is so much you do not know.”

“Your Majesty…”

“It’s sweet.”

The sound of footsteps made you jump away from her, but she stayed in place. A knock on the door made her grunt frustratedly.

“Go see who it is, YN,” she said, “Then tell them to leave. We have places to be later, and I need to get dressed.”

You were all too eager to go. You are not a naive child. You know women can be romantic with other women; there is nothing wrong with that. You’d seen Sookmyung nude many times over the course of your servitude, and you wouldn’t say she was ugly by any means. Any true naive person would think she is a goddess with her slender curves and hips. The only problem for you was that said woman is sadistically evil. You reached the door, and slid it open to reveal your mother and Queen Jisoo.

“Your Majesty,” you said, heat rising in your cheeks again as you bowed, “Good afternoon. What brings you here?”

“My daughter,” she replied stiffly. “Is she finally awake?”

“She is,” you nodded, “But she has a busy schedule ahead of her, so she must be getting dressed now.”

“Psh, as if that will stop me,” she replied. “Chaewon, wheel me in.”

With a beckoning gesture over her shoulder, your mother wheeled Jisoo into the room where Sookmyung sat on cushions by the low breakfast table. You trailed behind, not meeting her eyes, and remaining silent.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” Sookmyung said with a false grin, “I hope you’re feeling better. YN was just telling me you hadn’t eaten much yesterday.” A lie that Queen Jisoo did not believe for a second.

“I am, darling daughter,” she said, “But my health is not why I’ve come here. I am here to tell you that you are to clear your afternoon schedule today.”

“Why is that?”

“I have invited lords from Daegu, Jeonju, and Pyongyang as well as sons of your bannermen to our banquet pavilion today. It is about time you stopped fiddling with those poor concubines of yours and settled down with a husband.”

Sookmyung glared at her, “I do not want a husband.”

“I’m afraid that your wishes are no longer a concern to anyone. You are a queen, and a queen must have a king.”

“I do not want a king.”

“Why? Because then you’d have to actually share your power with someone? Because there will finally be someone restraining these ghastly, deviant urges of yours?” her mother accused. “I have made excuses for your behavior for years and years, Sookmyung. When people at court called you improper and promiscuous, I told them you shared your father’s fiery passion. When they said your conquest brought nothing but poverty to your people, I said that you united the kingdoms under one rule and brought forth strength to our armies. Even when you rebuilt the dungeons, to toy and defile people you deemed criminals, I told them that you were passionate about justice.” You heard the frustration rising in her voice, and flaring in her dark eyes. “People have begun to talk, Sookmyung. They say that one day soon, you’ll become pregnant with an illegitimate child and bring shame to our throne.”

“Who cares?” Sookmyung groaned, “Any child I bare would have my blood. Why would that make them unworthy?”

“Because a bastard has never sat on our throne-”

“-I don’t want them, so why does this matter?”

Jisoo sighed, “Sookmyung, I understand your hesitancy to marry. I had my reservations when my mother approached me, but I made it work. I did my duty to my country and my family.” Her eyes shifted over to you, sad and full of regret. It struck you as strange. “But, in order for our family to continue, you must produce a legitimate child. A child of royal, noble blood.”

“I hate children,” she spat, glaring back at her mother, “They’re whiny, snotty, and annoying.”

“You’ll feel differently when you have a child of your own.”

Sookmyung then gave her mother a grin that unsettled you. It was the same mischievous smile she’d given when she misbehaved. She stood up from her seat, and said, “But, what if I have found true love at last, Mother? What if I have found someone I wish to spend my life with?”

“You-You have? Who?” the queen asked, shocked.

Sookmyung moved over to you, standing behind you with arms around your waist. She placed her head on your shoulder as she said, “YN.”

Jisoo scoffed, “Oh please, Sookmyung. You cannot marry YN; she is a woman.”

“Women marry women all the time, Mother, when they marry the same husband,” she said. “YN and I can marry the same man and he can give her children instead.”

“As true as that may be, our clan has never indulged in such practices,” she said. “Besides, any child YN has will be considered…” she searched for the words, “Hers. Not yours. You are the queen, so it is your children who should-”

“-I am aware of how succession works, Mother!” Sookmyung snapped, her voice pinching your eardrum. “I have told you explicitly time and time again that I do not wish to have children or to marry. YN is perfect for it. If I marry her, her children will also be considered my children.”

“Should you marry a woman, it cannot be YN,” her mother said.

“Why not?”

“She is your handmaiden, love. She is not…” she paused again, “She is not suitable for you. She is not of noble blood.”

“Psh, wow,” Sookmyung snorted, “I thought I could be cruel. Did you hear that, Chaewon? My mother thinks your daughter is unworthy of me.”

“My daughter is a servant, Your Majesty,” your mother told her. “She’ll be marrying someone of her station like a stableboy or a blacksmith. A woman of your rank, Your Majesty, should be marrying a fine lord or a prince.”

“There are no princes left, you fool,” Sookmyung sniped at her.

“There would be if you hadn’t slain them all,” interjected Jisoo. “Enough of this foolishness. You will come to the pavilion today and greet your suitors. I give you until the end of the day to make a decision. If you do not choose one, I will choose one for you,” she said sternly.

“You wouldn’t-”

“-I would,” she cut her off. “This childish behavior of yours is coming to an end. You have been a queen for eight years, and have not even considered any suitors for yourself, so I must do it for you. I am giving one chance. If not, consider yourself lucky that you have not been dethroned.”

“You bitch!”

Sookmyung grabbed a small ceramic vase and flung it in the queen’s direction. Jisoo shielded her face in time to avoid any serious damage, but you still saw the disbelief in her eyes.

“I hate you!” Sookmyung grabbed another object, this time a small dish, which was dodged when your mother pulled Jisoo away. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

“Your Majesty, please!”

You managed to grab her wrist in time to stop her from taking up a third object, which gave your mother time to wheel Jisoo away. “You can throw tantrums all you want,” Jisoo called from nearby, “You will get married or live to regret it.”

“What did you say, you-”

You kept Sookmyung from following her mother out by the waist. “Your Majesty,” you called over her grunting and growling, “Please enough. You will only make things worse for yourself.”

“For myself?” she twisted out of your grasp and turned on you, “I am the queen, you idiot! What sort of consequences could I face? What can that old, useless woman do to me?”

“I-I don’t know-”

“-You never know anything,” she hissed. “Just as stupid as you look. I am the queen. Nobody can touch me. Nobody can make me do anything I don’t want to do. I don’t have to marry anyone. I don’t have to have children. I don’t have to do anything that those stupid, old men in the council want me to do.”

“They only have the country’s best interest at heart,” you explained, keeping your hands together to stop them shaking. “They’re not doing it to hurt you or make you unhappy. Having a child would ensure your family name and legacy continues onward,” you took a moment to think, then said, “How can you make sure your dungeons and practices remain in place if somebody else takes up the throne? With a child of your own, you can make sure they share the same beliefs as you about crime and punishment.”

“I hate children,” she gruffed.

“You don’t have to like them. You don’t even have to take care of them; you can have a wet nurse look after them for you. You only have to have them.”

“I don’t want to marry any of those men.”

“I’m afraid it must be one of them.”

Sookmyung’s palm collided with your cheek sharply. The pain burned on your skin, but you did not dare flinch or wince in front of her. “You do not get to tell me what I can and can’t do,” she snarled. “I do. I am the queen." She smacked you again, “Say it. Say I am the queen.”

“You are the queen,” you squeaked.

“And you are my slave.”

“And I am your slave.”

Sookmyung smacked your other cheek, then grabbed you by the collar of your jacket. “I should throw you in that chamber. I think you’d remember who you are after a few days in there.”

Your eyes stayed on hers, and you trembled in her grasp. She could do it. You knew she could. For the briefest moment, you saw yourself laying nude in The Box, screaming and clawing at the wooden door as insects and arachnids crawled all over you.

“But no,” she released you and stepped away, “You’re not hard-headed like the other idiots around here. Dress me, and then we can meet these stupid suitors.”

“You…You will meet them then?”

“Might as well,” she shrugged. “Maybe we can find a husband we both like.”

“Both of us? Your Majesty,” you followed her to the bedroom, “None of those men would want to marry me. I am a servant.”

“You’re my servant,” she noted. “If they marry me, they’re marrying you too.” She held her arms behind her back so you may untie and remove her robe for her.

You gingerly touched your left cheek, and felt a small welt where her ring struck you. It pinched when you touched it. “What about your flowers? If you marry, you may not be allowed to have them.”

“I’m never giving them up,” she said, “Not for anyone. I worked too hard to obtain them.”

“Your husband may not like that and dismiss them from the palace. As king consort, he’d be allowed that right.” You’ll admit, you liked the idea of her flowers being set free. They’d all be able to live the lives they’ve always wanted freely and happily.

“I’d kill my flowers before I let anyone else take them from me,” she said. “Grab the red and gold dress.”

“Shall I call in the others?”

“No. I can’t stand them.”

“As you wish.”

“Because I am the queen.”

“Because you are the queen,” you repeated, giving a nod of your head before disappearing into the nearby closet.

In the privacy of the walk-in closet, you pretended to search the shelves for the appropriate box. Sookmyung kept all her hanboks in boxes with their descriptions on the side. You already knew where her regal dress was, but did not reach for the box. Your back pressed into the opposite shelf and you took deep, silent breaths. Heart pounding in your chest, you tried your best to calm it before Sookmyung heard you. Like a feral animal, she grew tense the second she sensed fear. You hated this feeling, but it came regardless. You hated that your life was at her mercy.

One mistake, one false word, and she’d throw you into a torture cell.

***

A/N: The conspirators have finally met!! I am so happy you guys are enjoying this fic so far. I know it's complex and elaborate, but I really love historical dramas and period pieces, so I wanted to write one for ateez. Please, as always, feel free to like, reblog, and comment <3

Also, sorry if some tags aren't tagging. Idk why.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #matz x reader #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #hongjoong ateez #seonghwa ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #pirateeznet

385 notes · View notes

goodgirlofglory · 11 months

Note

Hey bestie, Happy Fourth of July! ❤️🤍💙🦅

Aka, happy birthday Steven Grant Rogers. 🪖💪

Usually, my go to reads consist of Bucky, but today I am feeling patriotic. So my ask includes reader giving steve a sloppy toppy 😏 💦 under the fireworks after an eventful birthday

But not just any blowjob, this is the first one that steve has gotten in 70+ yrs because he’s a grandpa that didn’t venture out into the modern world until he met reader. So now, he really understands why Bucky enjoyed his time with the ladies back in the 40’s 🇺🇸

And this blowjob in particular has him gripping whatever he can in his fists, has him moaning like a little boy, his mouth drooling, his eyes rolling, his soul leaving his body. 🙉 and reader is just talking him through it like the good girl she is 😊

Anyways, thank you for listening to my slutty asks. I hope you have a good day/evening where you are!! 🌸❤️

Bestie!!!🫶🎀🦋

Happy birthday to both Steve Rogers and the US of A🎉🎉✨️✨️✨️🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

I'm definitely in my Bucky corner nowadays too, but there's no hardship revisiting dear Stevie boy, so in the name of patriotism, here's a little somethin somethin😉😌

Absolutely LOVE the prompt (and your slutty asks are always a fav)!!! Things got a little out of hand, so Steve ended up reeeallyyy subby in this, but I kinda like it, don't you?

Enjoy, sweetie, have a good day/night wherever you are🫶🫶🦋

In the name of patriotism / One-shot

Pairing: Inexperienced!Sub!Steve Rogers x Experienced!Soft!Domme!reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: SMUUUUTT, oral (m receiving), soft domme reader, semi-public sex (oral behind the trees while there’s a party in the garden, ball-sucking, deepthroating, messy head, cum swallowing woop woop, dirty talk. Steve is very subby in this.

Summary: See delicious prompt above

“A-are you sure you’re okay w-with missing the f-f-fire-w-works?” he asks again, breath significantly more labored than just a minute ago - when you’d pinned him to the tree and gotten on your bare knees in the grass.

As you look up at his face, an explosion of glittering gold and red fireworks fills the sky above him, illuminating his strong nose, high cheekbones and blond hair tousled by his own hands raking through it. You consider his words, feeling his bulge throb under your hands - where you have them paused at his zipper. The belt you just undid hangs limp on each side of your hands, signaling how fucking close you are to the one thing you’ve been thinking about for the last hour.

Another glittering explosion in the sky, this one gold and silver, and his chest is heaving.

“View’s pretty great from here,” you say, preening as you see his furrowed expression break up in helpless laughter. He shaks his head a little, but his cock throbs again, betraying how he really feels about that comment.

It was by pure chance you walked by as Steve said it. You’d been on your way back from the bathroom when you’d halted outside the living room in Sam’s house and heard the boy’s talk through the crack in the door.

“Wait, nothing?” Sam asked incredulously.

Steve’s voice came a moment later, sounding sheepish and maybe a bit abashed.

“No. Not since the war. Sure, a kiss here and there, but you know me. I don’t get out much,” Steve’d said apologetically, and the resigned way he said it had set something off inside you.

If there were three thing Steve Rogers was not to feel, it was inadequate, undeserving and unsatisfied. It was the whole reason you’d planned this combined birthday and 4th of July-celebration, goddamn it. For Steve to feel celebrated and loved, surrounded by loved ones, doing things he enjoyed. It had been an absolute banger of an evening, and you just got the idea of how to make the night even better for him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t completely selfless. You did have a big ol’ crush on the man. Who didn’t? And if he hadn’t had a single sexual encounter in 70+ years, you were the perfet candidate to change that.

So here you are, knees soaking in the dirt, hands dragging the zipper of his faded, blue jeans all the way down, your own breath growing choppy as you stare at the gray boxers hiding the thing you want most. There is already a wet patch in the fabric, right where the tip of his cock is outlined. Your mouth fucking salivates at the sight.

He shifts where he stands, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and you bask in how impatient he is, how much you can sense he wants it, even if he’s giving you every chance of an out. Polite, chivalrous man - how can he not see you’re dying to gag on his cock behind a tree in Sam’s garden - while the rest of the party’s conveniently occupied watching the fireworks?

“I just - um - you just have to know I-I-I’m not pressuring you or -” he starts, stuttering so adorably, and his words dies on a gasp of breath as you reach up and lay your hand atop his boxer-clad cock, feeling it jump at the contact. He is so sensitive.

“Don’t you want it?” you ask. It’ll be agony having to tear yourself away at this point, but you’ll do it if he says no of course. You can tell he won’t though.

“No! I mean yes! I do, I fucking do - God, so much - just-”

“Then be quiet,” you say softly. It’s honestly astounding seeing him so flustered, stumbling over his words like his mind is already going under. Big, strong man, Captain America himself, putty in your hands, fumbling and blushing, and his cock isn’t even out yet. It’s making you fucking soak your panties.

His head thumps back against the tree and he exhales like he’s relieved. Relieved it’s actually happening despite him doing his part and checking your consent. Like you weren’t the one dragging him into the bushes and telling him to stay still, winking at him while you kneeled before him.

A small sound escapes him as you pull his boxers down, letting his cock spring free before tucking the band of his boxers all the way under his balls - so you have proper access to him. You’ll accept no less, even given you have little space and even less time to do this before someone’s gonna come looking for you - it’s Steve’s party after all - and you’re the host.

He’s fucking huge, intimidatingly so, even for you. He’s pale, bright pink on the tip, hair neatly trimmed by the base. He’s long and thick, prominent veins on the underside leading up to a pronounced head with a tight frenulum you can’t wait to tease with the tip of your tongue. You hold him gently by the base as you examine him, and a clear drop of precome trickle out the slit at the tip and down his shaft as you watch. It’s unreal how gorgeous he is.

“Perfect,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, and meet his eyes as his head whips down to see you. A groan seems to tear itself from him as he lays eyes on you gazing at his cock from eye level. He ducks his head a little, almost like he’s trying to hide from the praise, and you see in the flashing light of the next firework that there’s a tell-tale blush high on his cheekbones.

Oh, he liked that.

You take him into your mouth as you hold his gaze, making him pay attention to every inch of himself disappearing slowly in between your lips. His mouth falls open as you work him deeper, tongue working to coat him in spit, cheeks hollowing in to add suction everytime you pull him out. You command he watches it all, and lets you see exactly what it does to him.

His brows crunch together and rise on his forehead, his mouth gasping wider open, his face contorts almost to a grimace and you eagerly eat it all up as you work your mouth over him again and again. You gasp off him, and he gasps with you, sounding almost pained as you tease him with your tongue, running it from root to tip and back.

He throws his head back only to whip it down seconds later, unable to keep his eyes away from it, body shuddering each time you swipe the tip of your tongue from his frenulum to his tip, swiping at the spittle of precome that it coaxes out each time.

You’re going pretty slow for someone who has such little time as you do, but you can tell it does it for him. He’s sensitive beyond all reason, and you know just a little more of this and some naughty words will get him right off that edge.

“You like it?” you ask, moving your mouth down to take his balls into your mouth.

He chokes on a groan as you latch on to one testicle, rolling it into your mouth and releasing it with a suctioning pop. His hands fists at his side before unclenching and reaching behind him, grabbing at the tree like it can save him.

“Yes,” he gasps, desperately.

You take his spit covered cock in your hand and jerk him off, fast and hard right off the bat, watching with preening satisfaction as his eyes clamp shut and his jaw drops, hips shifting restlessly, itching to thrust into your hand like he just can’t help but chase the pleasure.

“Good. I want you to come for me. Don’t hold back when you reach that edge, give it all to me,” you say, voice deliciously raspy from taking him so deep, and he’s already nodding before you’re halfway through the sentence, putty in your hands.

The fireworks above are going off full force now, painting the Captain in flashing colours of gold, red, silver, blue, green and purple, illuminating him like a fucking work of art as he gasps and groans, bites his lips red, saliva coating them and running out the side of his mouth to trickle down to his jaw. He’s such an open book, honest, body shameless in its pleasure even as he blushes bright red as he meets your eyes, seeing you staring unabashedly as you keep jerking him, suckling the other testicle.

You take him back into your mouth, pressing him all the way back and into your throat. He sounds almost alarmed as you take him down your throat again and again, pushing your limits to give him that ultimate pleasure, working what you can’t get into your mouth with a spit covered hand.

To his credit, he stays almost perfectly still like you told him to, only moving his hips whatever inches he can’t seem to control - and also trembling more and more as he nears his peak, moaning almost continually.

“Fuck,” he swears at one point, and his hand flies out to tangle in your hair, holding on with a grip that alludes to unmatched violence but keeps to a desperate cling instead, a simple gesture to keep himself grounded. You groan around his cock, encouraging and maybe a bit patronizing, even as you gag around him before pulling off with a gasp.

“Come on, baby, I’m right here. I want it all,” you say in between suckling and messily kissing the tip of his cock, jerking him for real now, hauling him to the edge.

He whimpers at your words, and you relish the vulnerability of it, how he gives himself to you so entirely.

“I want your come, sweet thing, I can feel you want to give it to me,” you say, earning another desperate whimper.

“Be good and come for me. That’s it, I’m right here, give it to me,” you babble, and his hips are thrusting into your wet fist now, mindlessly chasing that edge as his eyes lock with yours, pupils blown wide, mind empty but for your words and his need to come. It’s an absolutely gorgeous fucking sight and you don’t want to go a single day without it from now on.

You take him back down your throat and he comes fast. How can he not, it’s his first blowie in 70+ years, maybe ever - you haven’t asked him yet. Also, you’d be insulted if he didn’t come fast, given how much work you’re putting in, taking him all the way into your throat and drenching both his cock, balls and your own chin in your saliva.

You feel the way his muscles tense up long before it happens, like his whole body is going to combust on the spot, and then this tiniest, most vulnerable sound leaves him, like a choked whimper mixed with an almost woeful sigh. And then his cock is pulsing deliciously in your mouth, throbbing as he explodes, and you hum low and long in encouragement as he gives you everything he’s got, shaking and trembling through it all. Bark splinters off the tree he’s pinned against as his fists clench through it, and his cum is thick and salty and perfect on your tongue, coming out in such intense, forceful spurts you nearly choke on it.

The fireworks are dwindling a bit in the sky, but you can still enjoy the sight of Steve going limp, head thumping back against the tree as he puts a hand through his hair, the other coming forth to cradle your jaw as you keep his throbbing cock in your mouth long after you’ve swallowed all the cum.

You gently release him, coo at him when he hisses from the sensitivity, and tuck him gently back into his pants, doing up the fly and belt before kissing his bulge lovingly, hoping for a swift reunion.

Ever the gentleman, he helps you with gentle hands as you get up on your feet and before you can really think on what comes next, he’s kissing you. He cradles you close with one arm around your shoulder while the other cups your jaw and his embrace is warm and tender and needy and perfect. You put your arms around his torso, holding him tight and kissing him back, letting his tongue snake into your mouth, loving that he isn’t averse to his own taste.

You kiss long and sweetly, unrushed, and you think maybe this should’ve come before the blowjob but Steve doesn’t seem too unhappy about the turn of events, turning you around to pin you against the tree as he plasters himself against you. Are you tripping, or is he hard again?

The chatter of the party comes back to life, and you break the kiss to murmur against Steve’s lips.

“We should get back to the rest before they get suspicious.”

“Why?” Steve asks casually, and it’s your time to blush from the blatant lack of care he has for the possibility of people finding you like this. You giggle and slap his chest playfully.

“Because, it’s your party and I’m the host,” you say, but it’s a nonsense reason. You could just stay like this until everyone’s left and it’d be okay with you. Maybe you could suck him some more.

“Would you like to stay after? I’d like…um…” he seems to struggle to put to words what he wants, kissing you hard before just saying “more”.

You giggle again and he smiles against your lips.

“You’re so good with your words, Captain” you tease.

He groans and his arms pull at your hips to grind his bulge into your stomach.

“Nothin' like you. Fuck, that fucking mouth of yours drove me crazy,” he groans, never pulling back more than just enough to get his words out between your mingling breaths. “I’d like to return the favor.”

And a thrill goes up your spine and shivers down it at the promise in his voice, the breathless desire that manifests there, and you nod eagerly just as Sam’s voice cuts through the chatter out in the yard, calling for both you and Steve.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #4th of july #sub!steve rogers x domme!reader #sub!steve rogers #sub!steve rogers x soft!domme!reader #im not from the us btw #but i could celebrate the 4th of july if it meant sucking off steve rogers next to a tree

300 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

Garden of Secrets [13] - Sundews

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Meeting the family can be quite challenging.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 4400

Series Masterlist

You had to admit, planning a wedding that was caused by a scandal was already quite difficult as you knew it would be, but pretending to be in love and having to convince others around you of your excitement for the said wedding was more difficult than you had assumed it would be.

And the fact that you were having your wedding gown made by your future husband’s former mistress was not even in the top ten reasons why this was so damn stressful.

The wedding was in a week, and your nightmares had come back with their full force, waking you up gasping every night.

At least everyone else was excited though.

Your uncle was in his study, no doubt going over some papers, and Teddy was in one of the rooms, studying math with his tutor. You had left your aunt in the drawing room going over the list of the last-minute guests to the wedding breakfast an hour ago. To be honest, you weren’t even sure she noticed your absence considering how stressed she was about the wedding.

Well, you were more stressed out about what would happen after the wedding.

You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to push the thoughts away. Snipping what seemed to be a wilting leaf of the rose in front of you, you huffed out a breath and leaned in to look at the stem closer in case you were missing anything, but then you heard your aunt clear her throat behind you.

“Auntie, I swear I do not care who comes to the wedding breakfast,” you said, your whole attention still on the rose. “You can invite whoever you want. Every guest will attend that thing for you or the Bridgertons anyway, not me.”

“Eh,” a familiar voice said. “Not every guest.”

Your head shot up and you dropped the shears, then jumped on your feet and whirled around, a breath leaving your lips. She looked exactly as you remembered her, as if it had been merely three days instead of over three years.

“Josie?” you whispered and she leaned on her hip.

“I look away for one moment and you fall in love?”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, flinging yourself to her and she took a step back as soon as your body collided with hers but she hugged you tight, a small laugh escaping from her lips.

“I missed you too Clover.”

“You’re here?” you asked, still holding her tight and your aunt clapped her hands together.

“Oh this is so wonderful! Josie my dear, why did you not tell us you were coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said as she pulled back, then cupped your cheek to see you better. “You look amazing.”

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll get Teddy!” your aunt said and rushed back into the house while you clasped Josie’s hand with yours.

“Are you here for the wedding?”

She grinned at you. “And afterwards,” she said. “I suppose you could say that I’m back, permanently.”

You pulled back slightly. “Josie what about—”

“Don’t worry,” she cut you off. “I can handle mother and father if they dare step wherever I am. Let’s not talk about them now.”

You couldn’t help but pull her into another hug, your eyes burning as she placed a kiss into your hair.

“Besides, my little sister is getting married,” she said. “I will kind of have to keep an eye on you.”

You let out a teary chuckle, then pulled back and nodded. “I am.”

“I have millions of questions.”

“All in due time. Where are Bess and Andrew?”

“They’re dealing with the houses.”

You frowned. “Houses?”

“Yes well, Andrew inherited a house down the street where we’ll live, and Bess’ late husband had a house here as well, she owns it now,” she said. “They’ll hire the staff and everything, they will join us later on. They both missed you.”

“I missed them too!” you said. “And is everything alright?”

“More than alright,” she said. “Everything has been amazing lately, aside from you giving me a heart attack. What kind of a letter was that?”

“Well how was I supposed to—” you started but stopped talking when you saw your aunt enter the garden with Teddy and Josie followed your gaze, then turned around.

Teddy looked a bit shy as he approached you two, still holding your aunt’s hand, his other hand by his mouth so that he could bite at his nail. Josie gasped, her jaw dropping as Teddy and your aunt reached you, and she let go of his hand, gently nudging him forward.

“Go on,” she said in a soft voice and Teddy cleared his throat, then looked up at Josie.

“Hello, I’m Teddy.”

A small sob climbed up Josie’s throat and she sniffled, her eyes fixed on him. She opened her mouth but no voice came out, so she took a deep breath and tried again.

“Hello Teddy,” she said. “Do you remember me?”

Teddy thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“But I know you’re Josie,” he added in a haste. “You sent me letters. Y/N read them to me.”

“Dear God you grew up so much…” Josie whispered as she crouched down to get to his level. “You were a baby when I last saw you.”

Teddy looked at you as if asking for your help with how to answer that, and you motioned at him to come over. He rushed to you, half hiding behind your skirt and you fixed his hair.

“See, I told you she would come back,” you said softly and Teddy tilted his head.

“Will you stay?” he asked her and Josie wiped at her eyes, then smiled.

“I will.”

“Here?”

“Very close to here,” she said. “And you can come and stay with me whenever you want.”

Teddy stole a look at you again, waiting for your permission and you nodded fervently.

“Should be fun, no?” you asked him. “This way you will have three rooms Teddy. Here, my house and Josie’s house.”

Teddy bit inside his cheek. “Can I put my toys there too?”

“Well yes, but if you want we can buy you new toys as well,” Josie said, making him smile wide.

“Really?”

“Oh yes. Different toys for different houses, it only makes sense.”

Your aunt let out a laugh at the sight of pure excitement on Teddy’s face and you ruffled his hair. Teddy paused for a moment, then shifted his weight.

“Is it okay if I don’t really remember you though?”

Josie took a deep breath, then nodded.

“It’s alright,” she said. “It just means we will make new memories, hm?”

Teddy grinned and hugged your legs sideways. “Uh huh. Can Y/N come to your house too?”

“We’ll see,” Josie winked at you, making your jaw drop.

“Oh I see how it is,” you said with a laugh. “I knew you were lying when you said you missed me.”

“I did miss you but Teddy is much cuter than you.”

“She’s cute too!” Teddy protested, still hugging you tight and you leaned down to press a kiss on top of his head.

“She’s joking Teddy,” you said. “Of course I’ll be there.”

Your aunt fanned her face with her hand. “Oh dear God, I feel emotional…” she said, sniffling. “All of you together and happy, just as it was always supposed to be.”

“Took us long enough,” Josie said, still smiling and you heaved a sigh.

“It really did.”

Your aunt clapped her hands together.

“Josie, come with me,” she said. “Your uncle will lose his mind when he sees you!”

It felt almost surreal that Josie was here with you after years, and that she would stay. You were so happy that you couldn’t even sit still and by the time she was done talking to your uncle and aunt and sent Teddy to his tutor so that he could continue his lesson, you were almost buzzing with anticipation.

“So,” she said as she came to plop down on the bench next to you. “It is very clear that I have much to hear.”

“So do I,” you said. “How are Bess and Andrew?”

“They’re as you left them but you are not,” she said. “Clover. Come on, tell me.”

You cleared your throat and sat up straighter. “I’m getting married.”

“I know,” she said. “What I’m wondering is how it came to be.”

“Fate.”

“Y/N.”

Heaving a sigh, you leaned back on the bench, resting your elbows on the marble as you looked up at the sky with narrowed eyes, enjoying the warm sunlight on your skin.

“Is he forcing you?”

You turned to her and shook your head. “Of course not.”

In a way it was true. Benedict wasn’t forcing you into anything, he was being forced into this as much as you were.

But you couldn’t tell her that. She had just returned to the country and you didn’t want her to be worried about you or your upcoming marriage. You knew her, she would stop at nothing if she so much as heard an implication that you did not want this wedding.

“Benedict is not like that,” you added in a haste and she tilted her head.

“Is it love then?”

And this right there was where it got tricky.

Josie was the one person who knew you the best, and she would see right through you if you tried to lie to her. It had been that way since you were little, and just a couple years apart didn’t change that, so instead of outright lying to her, you were going to have to bend the truth a little by telling her only a part of it.

“It’s something,” you ended up saying and she scoffed a laugh.

“Come on,” she insisted. “You can tell me whatever it is, you know I would never say anything to anyone. And if you happened to fall in love—”

“I’m too smart to fall in love,” you cut her off and she raised her brows.

“Alright,” she said with an amused smile on her face. “What is it?”

“Not love,” you said, “Out of question.”

“Fine, then what?” she insisted. “Why are you marrying him? Letter after letter you wrote how he annoyed you, how you couldn’t stand him and all of a sudden you woke up a changed woman—”

“It’s not the emotional aspect,” you cut her off. “It’s physical.”

Which wasn’t a lie at all.

You did not believe in love for yourself at least, but you knew very well that desire existed. That fire that burned through you when he had kissed you, the way your fingers almost twitched to at least touch him whenever he was around you, it all signaled the same thing. You weren’t blind, you were aware of just how attractive he was and that he was quite…skilled in matters of intimacy if his kiss was anything to go by.

Josie pulled back slightly to see you better. “Pardon?”

You rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t pretend you do not know what I speak of—”

“I know very well what you speak of,” she tried to suppress a smirk. “What did you two do?”

You shot her a light hearted glare. “Not that.”

“But whatever it was, it was enough for you to accept his proposal?” she asked and took a deep breath. “Clover I’m glad you enjoyed what took place but you cannot build a life on desire alone—”

“It’s not just that,” the words left your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. “Besides, I’ve made my decision. I’m not going to change my mind no matter what you say.”

She held up her hands, gesturing surrender.

“Just answer me this,” she said. “Do you only enjoy his presence when it’s a moment of desire?”

You pulled your brows together.

“I um…” you trailed off. “I like his presence in other times as well, not just then.”

She tilted her head, watching you in silence as you sat up straighter, fixing your hair.

“Benedict is interesting,” you ended up saying. “I do not get bored at all when he is around, and being around him makes me feel—”

Happy.

Being around him made you feel happy. It was almost easy to slip into that warm, fuzzy comfort and finding yourself smiling even if you tried your hardest to focus on what could happen at any moment.

But it just meant that desire you felt for him was clouding your judgement, and you knew you couldn’t let that happen.

“I want him to be around me,” you said and Josie’s lips pulled into a sly smile.

“I see,” she said after a beat. “And when do I get to meet this infamous betrothed of yours?”

“Whenever you want,” you said. “Lottie said they’re all going to have a picnic by the park so we can go as well if you’d like?”

“Lottie?”

“My best friend.”

“You’ve made a friend?” Josie asked and your jaw dropped.

“Why do you sound so shocked?”

“You’re not very friendly.”

“And you are?”

Josie shrugged her shoulders. “No but I can hide it,” she said. “Unlike you.”

“Fair,” you said. “She was Benedict’s friend first by the way. Then she decided we would be friends and I kind of followed her lead.”

She let out a laugh and stood up, then pulled you up by the hand and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“Come on then,” she said. “Let’s go meet Bess and Andrew first, then we can all go by the park.”

Even though it had been years since you had last talked to Bess and Andrew, it still felt like yesterday. You had always liked them, and Andrew’s marriage to Josie was the perfect arrangement for all parties involved. Bess was Andrew’s cousin and the love of Josie’s life, and Andrew only desired gentlemen and not ladies, so the marriage was a formality that worked out for all of them.

You were sure the ton would be clueless to the reality behind closed doors.

It had taken you almost two hours to catch up with what had happened while they were in Spain, and after that you all had decided to go by the park. As Lottie said, she and her family were there and though there was no sign of Bridgertons yet, Lottie had told you they would be there soon.

It came as a surprise to no one that about five minutes after they had met Lottie, they were all smitten by her. Even Josie who was always politely distant with everyone seemed to love her and had assured her that she wasn’t even interested in being a bridesmaid let alone the maid of honor. Soon enough though, her mother had called her to keep an eye on her siblings so she had to leave you four there, promising she would be back soon.

“You know, I have to admit I did miss here a bit,” Andrew said as he laid on his back, looking up at the sky with his hands neatly folded over his stomach. “Spain is nice and all, but there’s no place like home.”

Bess tilted her head.

“You hate the ton.”

“Don’t we all?” he asked and you held up your hand.

“I’m right with you on that.”

“Thank you, my dear sister-in-law,” Andrew said with a smile. “You’re getting married at a perfect time by the way. I needed to get away from my former lover.”

“Was it that bad?” you asked and Josie scoffed.

“It was very explosive.”

“No it wasn’t!”

“Yes it was!” Josie and Bess said at the same time and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“You challenge someone to a duel one time during a lovers’ quarrel and all of a sudden your whole liaison is explosive, unbelievable…” he grumbled as he sat up and Bess repressed a laugh.

“How about you Y/N?” she asked. “What of your betrothal? Tell us more about him, we barely know anything!”

“Oh he’s—” you started but as soon as the sight of Benedict caught your eye, you stopped talking. “That’s him.”

Andrew and Bess followed your line of sight while Josie looked over her shoulder and turned around, and Andrew raised his brows as if he was impressed.

“There is the answer to your question Jo,” he told Josie. “You were wondering why Clover changed her mind about marriage right? It’s because he looks like that.”

You gently kicked at his foot. “Shut it.”

“He looks like that and he’s an artist?” Bess asked and you nodded, trying to ignore the warmth of pride in your chest.

“Mm hm.”

“Well done,” Andrew winked at you and Josie clicked her tongue.

“Now our earlier conversation makes sense,” she said. “You really are a cliché.”

“Josie!” Bess scolded her lightheartedly. “Don’t listen to her, please. We’re all very happy for you!”

“I’ll uh—I’ll get him here,” you said as you stood up, then made your way to Benedict who was talking with Colin while Anthony made his way to Charlotte to greet her.

“Y/N,” Benedict said, a smile warming his handsome face and you cleared your throat.

“Hello,” you said. “I need to borrow you for a moment.”

“Sure, why?”

“To meet my family,” you said and motioned between you. “Since, well—since we’re getting married, it’s kind of necessary.”

Benedict tilted his head. “I already met your family?”

“Some of them yes,” you said, snapping your fingers. “But my sister is back.”

Benedict’s eyes widened. “Oh? Of course, I’d love to meet her.”

“She’s over there with her husband and her…best friend,” you pointed back with your thumb and both Benedict and Colin followed your line of sight to see Andrew waving at them while Josie narrowed her eyes into a glare.

“Is she nice or is she more like you?” Colin asked and you gasped in a rather exaggerated manner.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Colin,” Benedict warned through his teeth and he shrugged.

“What?” he asked and motioned at you. “We’re going to be family, should I lie to family?”

You curled your lips. “Now that you mention it, I have always been the nice one between the two of us.”

Benedict gawked at you in silence for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“Oh this is how I die then,” he said and turned to Colin. “Promise me you will make sure people see my paintings after my death.”

“Sure but I’ll put my name under those paintings.”

“Do you want to join us?” you asked Colin and he shook his head.

“As much as I’d love to watch this, I promised Pen I would find her,” he said and slapped Benedict on the back. “You’ve had a good life brother.”

“And apparently a very short one,” Benedict deadpanned as Colin walked away and you shot him a lighthearted glare, trying to repress your laugh.

“I’ll make sure Colin doesn’t write his name under your works if you do die,” you pointed out and Benedict nodded his head.

“Much obliged—you were jesting, were you not?” he asked. “About you being the nice one?”

“Not at all,” you said. “Josie can seem a bit intimidating sometimes.”

“Does she have a knife as well?”

“Yes, the knife is hereditary.”

He tilted his head to the side. “You realize that in order for you to be a widow we have to be married first?”

You pursed your lips, still trying to control the laughter threatening to climb up your throat.

“I thought artists liked suffering,” you said. “Everyone keeps saying that makes your art better."

“I wouldn’t call myself a fully artist yet.”

“I would,” you said and a small smile warmed his face before he cleared his throat.

“Do you have any tips on how to charm her to get her approval?”

“Her approval barely makes any difference, we’re already engaged,” you said. “Besides you could charm a goddamn rock apparently, you’ll be fine.”

He repressed a proud grin.

“Well it’s still important,” he said, stealing another look at her. “Especially since it looks like she doesn’t like me already.”

“What, a glare? That’s nothing,” you said with a scoff. “Trust me, you’ll know if she doesn’t like you.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “I won’t if she’s anything like you.”

You pulled your brows together. “I think people can tell whether I like them or not.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Half of the time I can’t tell whether you want to kiss me or kill me.”

Your heart skipped a beat but you forced yourself to roll your eyes, then started walking in Josie’s direction. He caught up with you almost effortlessly and you tried to ignore how your face was burning.

“See?”

“Shut up.”

“This is exactly what I was talking about—”

“She doesn’t know by the way,” you cut him off, desperate to change the subject. “The details of our…engagement.”

He raised his brows. “You didn’t tell her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I did, Josie would certainly find a way to stop that wedding,” you pointed out. “And I’m not going to put my aunt and uncle through that.”

Benedict looked like he wanted to say something but you had already reached the tree under which Josie, Andrew and Bess were sitting under and they all stood up when you got there

“Everyone, this is Benedict Bridgerton; my betrothed,” you told them. “Benedict, this is Josie; my sister. Lord Andrew Walcott, her husband and that’s Bess Hadfield, Andrew’s cousin and Josie’s best friend.”

“I’m honored.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Bess said and Andrew elbowed Josie so that she could stop glaring at Benedict before offering his hand, and Benedict shook it.

“Call me Andrew,” Andrew told him. “So you’re the man who made the impossible happen and got Y/N to fall in love?”

Benedict smiled softly and nodded. “It was a surprise for me too.”

“Me as well,” you deadpanned and Josie clicked her tongue.

“I’ve heard you’re an artist, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Oh I wouldn’t call myself an actual artist yet—”

“People call you that,” Josie tilted her head. “Are they dishonest or are you just being humble?”

“Josie,” you said warningly and she shrugged her shoulders.

“What? I’m trying to get to know my future brother-in-law.”

“We will have all the time in the world to do it after the wedding,” Bess said in a haste before you could retort. “I can’t wait. So, have you two decided on where you will go on your honeymoon? Josie and Andrew went to France and I—they liked it a lot.”

“France is a great option.”

“We’ll stay here,” you and Benedict said at the same time and Andrew pulled his brows together. Josie crossed her arms, her whole focus on you and you felt your heart dropping to your stomach before you cleared your throat.

“We actually haven’t talked about it because of the excitement of the wedding, excuse us for just one moment,” you said and grabbed Benedict by the arm, then led him away from them even though you could feel their -and other people’s- eyes following your every move so you remembered to smile up at him.

“You want to stay here?” Benedict asked and you nodded.

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t want to go to France? Italy? Anywhere?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “I’d rather if we didn’t leave the country.”

“The countryside then?” Benedict suggested. “And that way you’d see the house as well, I can just write a letter to the staff there—”

“No,” the word left your lips as you felt the fear churning your stomach at the idea of being in a remote place with him alone. You knew he had promised you that nothing you didn’t want would take place in your wedding night or honeymoon but you still—

You still didn’t know whether he would change his mind or not.

“It’s just that I promised Teddy I wouldn’t disappear after the wedding just like Josie did,” you said in a haste. “And the season has just begun and it’s my first one so I’d like to see it through. Besides I’m pretty sure Duke Hastings will propose to Daphne soon so we cannot miss that, she’s your sister so it’s not like you can ride into sunset either. We should stay.”

Benedict’s brows furrowed.

“Oh,” he said. “London then?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I mean it’s not like we will see each other that often in the house either,” you said. “So it’s really not going to make any difference if we’re here or anywhere else.”

A sad light crossed Benedict’s gaze but it was gone as soon as it came.

“…Right,” he said. “I guess not.”

“And then you know, once the dust is settled you can visit France or Italy or wherever it is that you want,” you added quickly. “I’d still convince people that we’re in love, no worries.”

“Or you could come with me?” he offered. “Once the dust is settled?”

The idea felt tempting only for a moment before the fear hit you again, so you shook your head.

“I don’t think so,” you said and snapped your fingers. “But you could take Madame Delacroix with you? Or anyone else who you…have an arrangement with. I wouldn’t mind as long as it’s kept a secret from the ton.”

To be completely honest, even the thought of it was enough to bother you. Though you were quite certain you didn’t want to be alone with him in case he changed his mind about how your marriage would go, that bitter taste at the back of your throat was back upon imagining him with Madame Delacroix or anyone else for that matter.

Him kissing her, or—

No.

You were not going to do that to yourself.

A painful smile curled Benedict’s lips at your suggestion and he took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, who knows?” he said. “Let’s just get through this first, right? The wedding is next week and I’m sure your family has a lot of questions.”

Next week.

Right.

You nibbled on your lip, a nervous lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat but you managed to smile.

“Yeah,” you said and clicked your tongue. “Let’s pretend to be lovesick then.”

Chapter 14

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

847 notes · View notes

bitterbeanren · 5 months

Text

Just a Little Longer

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Summary: Now that things have quieted down after the winter festival, you feel it’s time to celebrate with a hot pot party. Ayaka has insisted that you invite Ayato personally.

A/N: My gift for @laurequenta

I had a lot of fun writing this! Ayaka and Thoma are such shippers in their own subtle and sometimes less subtle ways.

Happy Holidays!

~*~

After the winter festival concluded, work around the Kamisato estate and your own family’s estate calmed down, and the weather became even colder, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to play another hot pot game. You had gone to the Komore Teahouse to ask Thoma what he thought (as well as play with Taroumaru), and he had happily agreed to participate. You’d just taken off your haori and scarf and hung them when Ayaka arrived as well. After hearing your idea, Ayaka grew excited about having a hot pot party too. Then, she insisted that you need to be the one to let the Head of the Kamisato Clan know about the plan and invite him as well.

You don’t mind. Your families had worked together for generations, your mothers had been close, and you considered him a dear friend. You’d known each other since childhood after all. You had fond memories of walks in the gardens, studying and comparing notes after lessons, of playing together with Ayaka, and of him showing you what he’d learned about sword fighting. You remember going to the Narukami Shrine together for New Years, warming your hands with cups of amazake and checking fortunes. When you think back on those times, you realize that you actually spent a fair amount of time together. A good chunk of your youth was spent at the Kamisato Estate and with the eldest Kamisato sibling. At least that was the case until Ayato took over the position of clan head. He became significantly busier after that.

As the years passed you maintained a good friendship with Ayaka and Thoma, however, you still felt fondest of the eldest Kamisato despite your differing paths.

Even now that you are adults, because you know of his fondness for odd snacks, whenever you see something you think he would enjoy you would get it for him. When you were able to give him the unique treats in person, his gaze would soften and the small smile that appeared on his face felt more… genuine. But when you weren’t able to give them to him yourself, he would send a letter describing the goods almost like a review column belonging in something from the Yae Publishing House. It never fails to make you smile. And when the two of you do get to spend time together, it’s like nothing has changed… provided that the two of you aren’t in public or are alone. When you do see him at events, there’s an air of formality around him that makes him feel more distant.

You much prefer being around him when he doesn’t need to put up a front.

“Master Ayato said he would be taking a walk around Hanamizaka, ___,” Thoma informs with a smile. “He didn’t leave too long ago.”

“Oh, you should go over now and invite him! I don’t believe he has any plans for tonight, so we could meet back here with ingredients in a few hours to have the hot pot party,” Ayaka claps her hands together with a warm expression on her face. “And if he is busy, then we could have one with just the three of us. Would that work for you?”

You look up thoughtfully before giving the younger Kamisato a nod. “I’ll need to send word to my family, but I don’t have any other commitments today.”

“Would you like me to send the message to your estate while you check in with my lord?” Thoma tilts his head to the side cutely.

“That would be much appreciated, Thoma,” you smile politely and wave goodbye before making your way towards Hanamizaka. ��I’ll see you two soon. Jya ne!”

As you make your way through the city, you can see your breath come out in puffs. It’s cold— and you can feel the chill through your kimono even though you’re wearing one of your thicker ones. Ayato certainly was bold— most Inazumans avoided being out in this temperature. But perhaps that was why he felt comfortable to walk about— he’d never been fond of crowds, especially after he’d become clan head. It was important to keep up public appearances when part of a noble household, and since Ayaka was well-loved by the people, Ayato could get away with being in the shadows so long as his few appearances were viewed positively.

The street vendors are still manning their stalls even though business is slow, but they were more prepared for the weather than you. They wear scarves and hats as well proper outer layers. Drat— you should have grabbed your scarf at least before leaving the teahouse. You mentally kick yourself and bring your fingertips up to your mouth, attempting to use your breath to warm them. When you next glance up, you see Ayato making his way towards you, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“Ayato!” You beam at him when he stops in front of you, one hand on his hip as he furrows his brows.

“Aren’t you cold, ___?” The man asks, you nod your head sheepishly.

“Ayaka and Thoma told me you were around here, and I forgot to put my layers back on before I went looking for you.”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like it’s my fault you’re cold,” Ayato chuckles, taking off his scarf and looping it around your neck. “Honestly… what could be so important that you’d forget? Surely seeing me isn’t worth catching a cold over.”

“We’re going to have a hot pot party tonight,” you explain, subconsciously nuzzling into the warm fabric and laughing with a hint of embarrassment, “since things have quieted down, I thought it’d be nice for all of us to get together again.”

“Ayaka must have insisted you invite me personally. Am I correct?”

“She did. But I would have invited you regardless.”

Ayato’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned in a bit closer. “Truly?”

You roll your eyes. “Have you so little trust in me, Ayato? We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

The Yashiro Commissioner gave you a noncommittal shrug. “It seems like these days I only see you when you’re with Ayaka and Thoma. I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit… neglected.”

“A hot pot party with just the two of us wouldn’t have nearly as much variety,” you shrug in response. “So, would you like to join us? We could get ingredients together.”

Ayato takes a moment to consider his response before letting out a sigh and securing his scarf around your neck. “Let’s find something interesting at least. Where did you find those sea urchin chocolates last time, ___?”

He already knows, of course. He’s the Yashiro Commissioner after all. But still, Ayato asks.

“If I tell you my source, then how will I be able to surprise you anymore?” You joke lightly.

“I’d never refuse a gift from you, even if it was uninteresting.”

“That doesn’t mean you’d like a boring gift.”

“I’d like any gift from you. We’re… childhood friends, after all.”

You place your hands on your hips. “Even so, the fun of finding weird things to put in hotpot comes from using perfectly normal things that don’t belong in hotpot. Ayaka still wins for using cake that one time… I need to think of something incredibly normal but just as upsetting for us to discover.”

The two of you begin to walk towards various stalls together, chatting as you go. “Perhaps… sunsettia?” Ayato offers as an idea.

“In Liyue there is a soup dish that uses sunsettia as the main ingredient,” You reply with a shake of your head. “So… adding sunsettias feels as though I’d be playing off that dish. Oranges, though… that might be fun…”

“Depending on what other ingredients are added, I imagine that the inclusion of orange slices would be quite novel.”

“But see, now that you know I’m considering it, that makes it less fun.”

You don’t notice how Ayato’s expression softens as the two of you continue, still shooting ideas back and forth. Being together feels so natural that you don’t even realize when you’ve taken his arm, purchasing a variety of normal and unique ingredients to bring to the hot pot party. Or maybe you choose not to notice, happy to bask in your closeness. Normally you aren’t this close while in public, but the lack of people on the streets make both of you more comfortable.

You’re childhood friends, after all. Of course it’s natural for the two of you to be close, despite everything. It’s something that both of you remember and remind yourselves whenever you end up standing closer than most would comfortably be. Whenever you find yourselves staring or thinking of the other for a moment too long.

There is no shortage of people vying for Kamisato Ayato’s attention these days. But you were there before. Back when the clan was struggling and the future was uncertain— be it because of foolish, childish innocence or loyalty, you had been and continue to be there for him even if only in the most miniscule of ways.

It begins to snow and Ayato adjusts his scarf on you. It’s cold, you really should have brought your own scarf and haori. But you want to enjoy being like this a little longer— together, chatting and carrying ingredients as you walk down the quiet streets back to the Komore Teahouse. Normally, you wouldn’t get to do this. Ayato had an image to uphold, after all. People would talk, seeing you two acting so familiar… but would either of you really mind, if they did?

He laughs at something sassy that you mutter under your breath, a fond look in his eyes, and you think you’ll be able to handle the cold for a bit longer.

Just a little longer.

#gixrsecretsanta2023 #ayato x reader #genshin impact #kamisato ayato

100 notes · View notes

thoughtsonhurtandcomfort · 13 days

Text

Shun the Light - Ch. 9 - Moments

Author's Notes: Not thrilled with how this one turned out but I needed to get some ideas out of my system that aren't quite developed enough to be their own chapter. It fills in some gaps and gives them a break before the next, much whumpier chapter.

Content Warnings: brief use of mind control, that's about it. This one is pretty light.

----

One more night becomes a week, and then another.

Dante never asks Matteo to leave, and Matteo never asks to if he wants him to. Neither wants to know the answer.

After learning what he did about the vampire, Matteo feels it's only fair to share a little about himself. One quiet evening, Matteo joins Dante in the living room and just starts talking. He expects Dante to be indifferent or even annoyed, but instead is met with rapt attention.

"I was pretty boring until a few years ago," he begins. "Had a job, a little place, I was dating." He clears his throat and starts fussing with the hem of his shirt - which is in fact one of Dante's or possibly Philip's shirts, he isn't quite sure.

"I met this guy I really liked and we started dating, sort of. It always felt like I was more into him than he was into me."

"So people are okay with that now? You being with another man?"

"Some of them," Matteo replies. "More than there used to be but still not enough. Depends where you go."

"I see. Sorry, continue."

"Well, there's not much else. He got me into some trouble. A lot of trouble, really - "

He catches the trepidation on Dante's face and quickly adds,

"I'm not wanted by the cops or anything. Like I said...no one is looking for me. But I...changed. And I knew if I stayed there I would hurt people. So I left."

Every time Matteo gets close to telling the whole truth, he diverts at the last moment. That would change everything and he isn't ready for this to change yet. But he makes a firm promise to himself to hide during the full moon, lest he put Dante in danger.

"Where did you go?" Dante asks.

"Nowhere, really. I move around a lot. I'm not sure there's a place for me anywhere anymore."

Dante sits back in his armchair and silently reflects on Matteo's story. He doesn't press for details, which is a relief but makes Matteo feel twice as guilty for being so vague.

"When you got here," Dante says after a while, "you were in bad shape. Can I ask...what happened? Were you attacked?"

"Sort of. Some guy caught me on his property and chased me into the woods with a gun. I got cut up on branches and stuff."

That much is, technically, true.

"And after all that you still gave me your blood?" Dante muses aloud.

Matteo shrugs, trying not to feel too proud of himself considering he was only there in search of shelter. Dante was never part of the plan.

"You were in worse shape."

Dante doesn't disagree. "I never did thank you for saving me."

"Well...I never did thank you for the place to sleep."

"Mm. Glad to know my life is at least worth a bed."

It takes Matteo a moment to pick up on the dry humor. Dante isn't smiling, but there's a glint in his eyes.

Matteo wonders what that somber face would look like smiling or laughing. He wouldn't be like the man in that old photograph, not anymore. Sorrow has weighed on him too heavily for too long. But maybe it would be beautiful in its own way.

Maybe he'll even get to see it.

Despite his often morose demeanor, Dante is a gentle soul who feeds stray cats and leaves seeds out for the birds even though he'll never get to see them enjoy it in the morning.

Living alone almost fifty years has left him with no shortage of eccentricities. He talks to himself, never has the same routine two days in a row, takes long walks alone at night, and stores blood in mason jars in the refrigerator.

His knowledge and hobbies have been shaped by what is available to him in the house - the books in the office library, the grand piano in the living room, Mrs. Townsend's knitting and needlepoint, an assortment of games and puzzles.

And, as it turns out, basic cable.

"How in the hell did you manage that?" Matteo asks, staring at the old but functioning television.

Come to think of it, the house has electricity and running water. He never even questioned it, and suddenly he has so many questions.

"A very large savings account," Dante explains calmly. Then he looks sheepish. "I may have...borrowed Philip's identity."

Matteo stares at him.

"...I'm not proud of it."

"No, no, I don't care about that, but what happens if something breaks? Or if someone from the company comes by?"

"There's this - this thing I can do. It's probably easier if I just show you."

Dante's eyes gleam unnaturally bright in a way Matteo has only seen a couple of times before.

"Pick up that book. Balance it on your head."

All other thoughts disappear; Matteo obeys without question.

As soon as the spell is broken he snaps back to reality and the book drops to the floor.

"How...wait, did you do that?"

"No. You did."

"But you made me do it."

"Yeah. I can make someone think they were never here. It isn't harmful...I think. And I swear I didn't use it on the Girl Scouts."

Dante seems uncomfortable admitting to using this skill, but Matteo is unperturbed. Even a little jealous - his condition doesn't come with any cool powers.

"What about shopping? I guess you don't have the internet...but maybe the home shopping network?"

"No...no mail. It's not worth the risk of someone stopping by every day."

Matteo chews his lip, thinking.

"I have an idea. What if I went shopping for you? I can go out in the daytime. And I could get some real food...not that I don't appreciate the cookies! What do you think?"

Dante looks stunned.

"You'd do that for me?"

The next day, while Dante sleeps, Matteo follows the path of the winding, overgrown driveway to a main road and follows that until he finds a small shopping plaza. It's a long walk but he feels stronger and healthier than he has in a long time.

That evening Matteo sits back with a bowl of soup and watches as Dante eagerly goes through the bags. He had only requested a few new books, the most recent newspaper, and some new pens and pencils, but Matteo threw in some extras just because.

I owe him for letting me stay. That's what he tells himself.

It's all going too well. He should know better than to get comfortable anywhere...or with anyone. As the waxing moon grows larger each night, Matteo knows he should leave.

But he doesn't.

#vampire #werewolf #mind control #angst #loneliness #bonding #a lot of dialogue #not very plot heavy #not very whumpy #whump writing #my writing #my ocs #matteo #dante #shun the light

32 notes · View notes

risetherivermoon · 4 days

Text

the oak-swallows-garcia's at the time of the epilogue!! this is also me working on revamping some designs..stay tuned, im planning on doing this with all of the families! tho idk if ill get to it...we'll see

i feel like hero looks a lot like the twins where norm looks a lot like rebecca, especially as she got older, i need to revamp my design for her or at least make a proper one lol, as well as one for s2 hero

started with these guys because i have not stopped thinking abt them since the finale, like oh my god...this family man.

(HUGE descs of post-canon/epilogue hcs below cut, as well as closeups!)

first off: Hero! (i posted a wip/close up of her a bit ago but that was before i realized i got the ages wrong,) she's 40, working for NASA after going to college, she's currently single, living with her two best friends she met in college and their cat, Momo. She's living her best life, still in therapy, and is finding it to be very helpful. She hasn't spoken to the Twins and Rebecca in about six or seven years, but keeps in contact with Normal regularly, after everything that happened while she was a child and years of therapy she decided it was best to go no contact with them, they respect her decision. Her and Normal call every few weeks just to catch up.

Normal! not too different from what was already described in canon, he's 38, living alone outside of California, he attempted to go to college after graduation and ended up dropping out in his Sophomore year, after a mental health crisis got him way off track. Now he's working a retail job in Boston, while attempting to go back to school and graduate. He hasn't exactly put in the effort to keep in contact with the rest of the teens, though Scary and Linc call or text him every now and then. Normal was at there wedding, and attends every one of Gerry's birthday parties. He's in contact with his parents, though mostly only Rebecca. He's in therapy, but he's still struggling. He is also still talking to Henry, and he visits Oakvale every now and then, just to say hi to him and his Aunt Birdie. (screw yall shes real to ME)

Rebecca! At 60, She and the twins are still living in San Dimas, she's only just now retired officially, though living comfortably with the money from Swallow's ice cream. Her marriage with Sparrow has always been rocky, but they're at a point where it's easier to live together and stay married. Though they more so are living as friends other than a married couple. Her relationship with Lark has always been weird, though she'd consider them good friends as well. She texts with Normal practically daily, because she worries about him a lot. After she died for a brief amount of time, she started to rethink a lot of things in her life, one of those things being the amount of time she spends focusing on her kids and making sure they're alright. If Normal was anyone else he'd probably say she was being too clingy. Shed attempted to revive her dying relationship with her daughter as well, but inevitably respected her decision once Hero decided to go no-contact. She still asks Norm about her though.

Sparrow!! this one is interesting! At 31 (pre-s2), he hits a specific point as a druid where he gains the Timeless Body ability, where his aging slows as he gets older, Sparrow wasn't aware thats what was happening until he realized around his mid forties that he wasn't looking any different. After a long conversation with Henry, he figures out that's what's happening. He doesn't tell anyone besides Lark for a while until it's too noticeable to hide. at 59, he's living at home with Rebecca and Lark still, and is spending most of his time gardening and painting, or attempting to keep his mind off of...everything. Sparrow isn't living happy or comfortably, though it seems that way from an outside point of view. He finds himself trying to ignore everything going on around him, the fact his life is in shambles, and the inevitable of his loved ones dying before him. He throws himself into his art, to the point where Rebecca has to drag him out of their art studio (their garage) to eat and sleep. He barely leaves the house, because people around town had already started to notice how young he looks.

Lark!! agghgh if you thought my sparrow description was a bummer get buckled. Lark never really recovered from the aftermath of The Doodler and Code Purple, he had really been solely living off of his dedication to fixing everything. So once everything was fixed, he crashed. Badly. For about seven months no one knew where he was, he ran off to the other side of the country and basically went on a self destructive spree, driving around aimlessly. Once he came back home, Sparrow and him had their first heated argument. Sparrow wouldn't let Lark out of his sight, and pushed him to do something other than wallow in self hatred. So Lark started working at a mechanic shop down the road, and without his usual purpose, he threw himself into the work.He worked there for 12 years before an accident involving his right knee happened, leaving him immobilized (hence the mobility aid/cane). Sparrow forced him to leave the job behind after that, at 59, Lark's basically been in a weird stasis, waiting to die.

20 notes · View notes

angelsanarchy · 2 months

Text

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 32

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Jack moves about the house with his fresh tapes for the tape recording that sent him into a spiraling psychotic break over a year ago. Now he's using it to record his own tapes. He realizes it seems stupid but he wanted to replace the wounds from the past with potentially new and more positive things he can reflect on in the future.

"So this is the first recording...obviously it's me...Jack...God I feel stupid." Jack shook his head and lit a cigarette trying to calm his nerves.

"Okay...so the house is almost completely finished. I debated on painting the outside of it but decided it wasn't really necessary. Once the weather is nicer, I might consider doing more landscaping." Jack shook his head feeling like an idiot.

"I also finished writing my first book. I found a local editor to look over it and I'm kind of nervous about it. Y/n has been helping me work through those anxious moments which is nice. I like having her around. Y/n is different than anyone I've ever known. She makes me feel like I'm not a complete psychopath. She gives me hope that someday I can live a normal, happy life with all the issues I have. I know that sounds cliche and all but she makes life easier." He smiled to himself thinking about all the times she's helped him.

"I recently suffered a relapse...I honestly thought that was going to be it. I thought if I could just get Y/n out of the house, I could sink back into the darkest corners of my brain and fester there alone. But she wouldn't let me. She stayed. She wasn't scared of me and she didn't hold it against me. She stayed and got me through it." Jack looked at the little smiley face she had put on his thumb with a pen the other night while they were standing in line at the grocery store. He knew it was silly but he made sure to be careful when washing his hands just to preserve the little face.

"I don't know that I've ever felt like this for someone. Cleo...she was kind of my first love. She was special and I had planned a whole life with her but I was never able to visualize it. I could never close my eyes and see us in the future together." Jack looked across the street and could see a light turn on in Y/n's house. He knew it was her mother's room. He also knew this was about the time she got up to stretch her legs around the house. She was getting a lot stronger. He liked the visits they had started having. He liked having dinner with Y/n and her mom. It felt like a family.

"When I think about what a future with Y/n would look like, I see us living in this house that I've made my own. Getting another dog for Ace to play with. Maybe even a cat, I know how much Y/n has talked about having a cat and a dog and I think that would be fun. Waking up in the morning to see her out the door to work, having dinners with her mom in the evening and helping her take care of her garden." Jack felt warmth in his belly when he pictured it.

"I've only just finished this book about the worst parts of my life and I already want to write another about what my life is now, what it could be with her. I want her to come home to me, this beautiful house and our pets who we obnoxxiously treat like our children." Jack rambled.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Jack startled and dropped the recording on the porch. His eyes went wide seeing Cleo standing just 10 feet away from him.

"C-cleo? W-what are you..." Jack stood up and she held her hand up warning him not to approach.

"So you just sit out here by yourself and talk about how wonderful your life is now that you've destroyed everyone else's? God I knew you were a narcist but I never pictured you this far gone." Cleo looked him over and watched as he itched at his arms.

"What? Are you on drugs or something? Out here getting high and ranting to yourself? God Jack, you really are-"

"I'm not on drugs...i've got scabs...they're healing." He turned his arm slightly and she could see the remains of his self harm from his last relapse.

"You tried to kill yourself?" She asked almost annoyed.

"A few times actually. I'm...adjusting to my mental illnesses and all that comes with them. I recently had a relapse..." Jack cleared his throat and Cleo nodded.

"That explains the voicemail I got. You should really remove my cellphone from your medical charts." She crossed her arms.

"I will make a note of that. Sorry for them bothering you." He apologized.

"What are you doing here? I mean I thought you were done with me? Your voicemail said-"

"I know what the voicemail said. I found a box I forgot to drop off and after some thoughts of burning it, I decided to listen to someone's advice about getting closure." Cleo grabbed the chair that sat next to the one Jack was in and drug it away from him.

"Wh-what kind of closure?" Jack asked nervously. He was unsure of what she wanted from him at this point but he was willing to give her whatever she needed to have closure. She deserved that.

"I want to know the whole story. I want to know what happened here a year ago. I want to know what you found and why you were locked up. I want to know why you hung up on me and abandon me when I needed you the most. Why you turned your back on our life together with out son." Cleo tried not to cry but she was letting angry tears roll down her cheeks. Jack sat down slowly in the chair opposite her and took a deep breath.

Jack sat there and recounted everything to Cleo. He told her about how his parents died in the car crash together, how he started having a slip from reality thinking his mother was still alive. The hallucinations that came with it and how he thought he was plotting her murder. He told her about the sexual abuse he suffered as a child. He told her about the articles in the attic he found and how he had completely forgotten about all of it. He tried not to cry while he recounted it but she actually put her hand on his knee to comfort him. He told her about what his dad did to his twin brother when they were just babies. They both cried at that point.

"I'm not telling you all of this as some sort of excuse. What I did to you and the baby was inexcusable. I just want you to know that I've never been more sorry in my life for anything. You were such an important part of my life and-" She stopped him.

"I know Jack. I know you're sorry and I forgive you. I'm so sorry you suffered so much as a child. No one deserves that kind of pain and suffering." She looked at him much softer now, like she did truly forgive him.

"You seem to be doing well now...even after the relapse." She commented looking him over.

"I've had a lot of help." He ran his hand through his hair and she nodded.

"So I heard. You seem to talk about a Y/n quite a lot in that recording. Who is she?" She asked without a hint of jealousy.

"She's actually my neighbors daughter...she's helped me through a lot of this." Jack explained and Cleo pointed at his face.

"You're in love with her." She smiled.

"How do you know that?" He asked curiously.

"Because you smile just thinking about her. You used to do that with me." She said softly. She didn't seem upset, she just seemed relieved.

"I'm sorry-" She cut him off.

"Jack, you don't have to be sorry. I'm glad I came here and talked to you. I have been so angry and bitter about you, I needed this." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring.

"I've met someone. He's brilliant and you would probably think he's a complete ass but-" It was his turn to cut her off.

"I'm sure he's great. You've always had good taste." He teased.

"I'm happy with him and I wanted to be able to let go of this...us...what we had so I could truly start a life with him." She explained.

"I'm happy you're happy. You deserve the world Clo." Jack nodded at her. She stood up from the chair and he followed her to her car. She handed him his box and stopped to look at him once more.

"Take care of yourself Jack." She touched his face and he sighed at the gesture. She got in her car and as he watched her drive away, he knew this would be the last time he would hear or see Cleo ever again.

He felt himself getting overwhelmed and noticed his heartbeat picking up. A panic attack was coming and he wasn't sure what to do. He hurried into the house with the box and tried to steady his breathing. His hands shook as he fought against the pull in his chest.

A storm was coming.

#Jack Thurlow #Jack Thurlow x Y/N #One Shot Series #Glass Houses #Glass Houses Series #Jack Goes Home #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult

34 notes · View notes

mtchacrvle · 1 year

Text

-🌹𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.

𝖸𝖺𝗇! Clingy prince X F Knight Reader.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: mention of stalking, obsession, mention of killing, mention of self harming, yan! Is a big big pervert. (Lots of grammar mistakes. English are not my first language I apologize if it's hard to understand)

Summary: You worked for the royal family. You serve the king. you always loyal to him as he helped your family years ago. You grew up poor with no parents by your side and you have to work to support your 2 younger sibling. The king saw that you have a potential in fighting so he bring you to the castle to try out. Since that you have been devoted to him, you see him as your savior. Bc of him you have no problem with money anymore. Your younger sibling get to live a very comfortable life. But without you realizing something or should I say someone have been keeping they'r eyes on you since day one. And they r holding themselves back from you.

......🌹.......🌹.......🌹.......🌹........

-🌹Yan! prince who felt disgusted bc his father brings you in. He don't understand why his father choose a girl instead of guys??. He felt disgusted bc your "poor" and you don't deserve to be in the castle. He felt disgusted everytime you smile or bow at him.

-🌹Yan! Prince who felt raging mad when his father announced that HE'LL be under YOUR care.?? how can someone lowly as you be taking care of him??. He's father must want to get rid of him bad. The king got mad at him saying no one was willing to be by my side bc of my temper. Well I suppose it's true. But can you blame me? I'm the prince I'm about to be the next king. I can't be seen nor be close to some lowly servant. God what would happen to my image. No princess wants to marry me.

-🌹Yan! Prince who kept on throwing tantrums like a 5 year old and pisses you off anytime he could so that you'll just give up and resign. 1 month, 2 month, 3 month, nothing. It's been almost 5 months and you're still standing. God what r you? Don't you have feelings? He felt pissed bc you aren't bothers by him. You r the first person that still here. Most servants or knights would leave within 2 day 3 if lucky but you. You last for 5 months.He knew that you won't budge so he has to turn his game a little.

-🌹Yan! Prince who started to hurt himself physically so that you would get in trouble. He hires someone ( more like threatening one of the servants ) to jump on him acting like a hitman to kill him while he's on a walk at the garden. Of course his plan is simple. You are basically attached to him like a dog wherever he goes you go. While he was walking in the royal garden he "suddenly" felt thirsty and ordered you to go and get him some water from the kitchen. You were bout to call for a servant but he stops you and tells you that he wants YOU to take it. You decline saying you have to be by his side at all times. He knew that you'll say that that's why he started to lie and that he doesn't really trust the servants and maids. He's scared that they'll put something in his water. You are considering his words and gave in. You're sure that he'll be fine. It's only a one minute walk anyways. So you left.

-🌹Yan! Prince who laughs at your stupidity and starts his plan. He told the servant to get behind him and put the fake knife on his throat. It was so perfect he knew this will bring you out for good. He then started to scream loudly and you and the other servant Including the king butler ran to where he is and saw that he is bout to get "kill". He saw your terrified face when you saw and he chuckled a little. He then whispered to the servant to push him to the ground and ran. But.....he felt that the servant didn't budge. In fact he tightened his grip and pushed the knife deeper into his throat. That's when he realized that was not a fake knife...that's the real one. At that moment he actually started to tear up from fear and actually for the first time in his life that he felt bad for what he had done. The servant whispered onto his ear saying something that made his eyes widen. "You are the reason why my fiance leaves me ..." The servant said while holding his cries . The servant then suddenly yells and claims that bc of the shit you pulled while he was serving you the king punished him so badly that his parents disowned him and his fiance left him. He closed his eyes in fear. No this can't be the end. When he started to pray for his life he suddenly felt the wind hitting his back. He no longer felt wet disgusting tears falling on his ear he didn't feel a sharp knife being held in his throat. When he opened his eyes. He saw that you knocked the servant down by hitting his head. he felt relieved.

-🌹Yan! Prince who was traumatized by the incident he sat in his room afterwards. He overheard from the servants that you were getting punished for your mistake leaving him alone. He doesn't know why but his chest tightened. He felt weird. He's supposed to feel happy that finally after months of trying to get rid of you he finally did it. Not just that he even got you punished. He was supposed to feel thrilled but somehow he didn't...the servant says that you got whipped at the back 100 times. But the king didn't throw you. Bc the king felt like it wasn't entirely your fault and based on your fighting skills it was a shame if he get rid of you just like that. So the king assigned you to be by his side. Plus the king knew that this is all his son game. But whatever it is it is still your fault bc you disobey the rules.

-🌹Yan! Prince who actually felt bad for something that he pulled for the first time. He heard the rumor saying you were by the king side now. But he's craving for your presence. His father assigned a new knight by his side and he didn't see you until 3 days later he finally got to see you again. While he was laying down on the bed he suddenly heard the knock. His knight came in and kneel besides him saying someone is here to meet him. Considering his tone it doesn't look like it's any of his family members. If it's his family members they would just come in without knocking. He taught for a moment and nodded signaling to let the person in.

-🌹Yan! Prince who was shocked to see your face after so long. He didn't know why but seeing your face made his heart beat faster. he knew he didn't see you for only 3 days but somehow it felt like it's been years. He felt warm when he saw you but quickly snapped when he heard your voice. You kneel in front of him considering he absolutely hates it when you are beside him. " My prince how r you feeling?. ". God has your voice sound so angelic before? Maybe it's always been angelic but he's the one that didn't notice that. He felt even more warmer when you asked how he was feeling. Really? How can you still ask and care for him after what he did to you. Without him realizing he was staring at you. You clear your throat and continue " Im not expecting you to acknowledge me I want to apologize for what happened. I wasn't supposed to leave you that day and it's my fault. I deserve every hit every punishment that was given. I just want to say thank you for letting me stay and serve you my prince. I know you don't care but I just want to say that I'm not mad nor felt hatred for you. " You inhaled and got up to bow to him. " And I think you are aware that I'm no longer serving you bc of what happened. I'm now serving The King. Thank you for letting me serve you my prince. ". After giving one last bow you left.

-🌹Yan! Prince who felt like his world is falling apart. No why...oh how he wished he appreciates your presence more when you were by his side. After he woke up from his sleep he went to take a walk at the garden and while he was walking he arrived at the fountain. He saw The King and you by the King side. He saw that there's a carriage that looks like a noble carriage. Then he remembers today is meeting day. Which he has to attend since he will make his debut as the king in a few months.

-🌹Yan! Prince who went into the meeting room with his new knight which he didn't even remember his name. And when he arrives the first thing he sees is you standing behind The King chair. Oh how your beauty stops him. He actually stopped walking your beauty just made his heart beat so damn fast that he was sure that the King could hear it. " Are you ready son. " The King spoke caught his attention. He nodded and went to sit near The King.

-🌹Yan! Prince who didn't even focus on meeting instead he's focusing on you. Oh how you look so pretty with your hair up. How he wondered if he would ever see your hair down. He had these thoughts on you when someone calling out his name. God it is his Father. " Are you alright my son? You look tired." . Oh no I'm completely fine don't worry bout me. Please continue.

-🌹Yan! Prince who won't stop looking at you even after the meeting ended. He doesn't know why but when you open the door for his father he feels jealous. That was supposed to be him. You were supposed to open the door for him not for his father. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when you look at his way and bow at him while giving him a small smile.

-🌹Yan! Prince who never felt love or any feeling toward anybody suddenly started to masturbate while imagining it was your hand . He feels hot. All of his body felt hot oh how he wished you were on top of him kissing him while stroking his cock. Kissing his ear softly and whispering how much you love him, how much you crave for his touch. He cum so much that night. He didn't stop after one round. Oh no he didn't he kept on until he knew he had no cum left. And that's the day he was sure that he loved you.

-🌹Yan! Prince who has two sides one side is he always fantasize your wedding day on his mind every.single.day. that brings him so much joy. Another side of him is when he sees other nobles, knights, servants,maids get too close to you. No matter what gender, even the same gander as you. How he just wants to kill them the most gore way possible. Plug their eyes out so that they can't see your beauty any more. Cut off the hand that pats your shoulder or your back.

-🌹Yan! Prince who has a book that is twice the size of a dictionary. Everything and I mean everything. 2-3 stan of your hair, Your fave handkerchief, your fave food, drink,pet etc. The King actually knew bout his obsession and confronted him that day. He was bout to kill The King but the King knew bout it a long time ago. And he made an agreement. The King will let you by his side again but in one condition. He has to take The King place after his younger brother's party. Ofc mf says yes. He can have you back AND got to rule the kingdom a few months earlier.

-🌹Yan! Prince who became so touchy after you were by his side again. He kept touching your hand, playing with your hair. He would randomly run to you and hug you. His hug is tight so tight that it makes you feel like he's scared that you would fly away if he loosened it. And you were so sure most of the time you could feel he sniff your hair.

-🌹Yan! Prince who day by day becomes more and more bold. He would go to your room and steal your clothes. He would put his shirt under his pillow everyday and he would get mad if any servants or maid came to clean his bed. ( He doesn't want to get caught ). And that's the good thing lol he would make his own bed. Before he went to sleep he would hug and sniff the shirt and cuddle it as it was you. He would smell your underwear to masturbate. Different clothing different uses.

-🌹Yan! Prince who would win over you by changing his personality. Less rude, less stubborn. He even being nice to the servants but ofc it's all just an act. But with you? All the kindness, the affection is real. And he can't wait for him to be The King then you'll be by his side Forever.

Part 2 ? I take recommendations if you'll like ;D

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere prince #obsessive behavior #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #soft yandere #clingy af #clingy yandere

151 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Text

Sweet Spring Showers

AN: This fic is for Beanie’s Double-Trouble Sleepover #rolling into spring writing challenge. I tried to make it dark, @springdandelixn by my characters refused. Enjoy the smut instead.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board and banner by me.

Master list

Relationship: Queen’s Handmaiden Reader x Prince Loki

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: More fluff than was intended, flirting and banter, casual sex, smut (inc Oral - f receiving, Unprotected PinV sex, fast recovery) Loki has a ‘King/God’ kink, various mentions of norse mythology.

You tripped down the palace steps into the garden, the soft fabric of your dress flowing behind you. It had been a busy morning, and you needed to take a break from your duties as one of the Queen’s maids. Spring was finally here, and the weather was now warm enough to go for walks without having to bundle up first.

As somewhat of a free spirit, you resented the time it took in the Winter to get ready, impatient to just get on with what you wanted to do. Anything that interrupted your ideas and plans was met with a scornful look and mumbling under your breath, much to the disappointment of Queen Frigga, who still hoped you could be transformed into a proper lady. You were lucky that she liked you, or you’d have been kicked out of your position years ago.

You wound your way down the paths, entranced by the early blooming flowers, striving to cover the garden in a blanket of cover. Birds chirped, and you watched them fly to and fro with small twigs and clumps of moss as they set out to build their nests. The sun was high in the sky, and as you stepped under its rays, you felt them warm your skin. The sensation made you smile. Spring really was your favourite season, bringing with it the promise of renewal and new life.

You wandered further, away from the formal gardens and into the more natural area behind them. Thin dirt paths led in every direction, deep into the trees. You knew from experience that they led towards pergolas, follies, and love seats, places to rest and take in the beauty of nature. You decided to head towards your favourite of these places, which was also the most out of the way one. If anyone wanted to find you, to get you to carry out some tedious task, it would take them a while and give you more time to yourself.

Your movements were graceful as you half-walked, half-skipped down the track, skirts still billowing and fluttering in the breeze. You plucked the odd flower here and the odd flower there, placing them into your hair like a crown.

“Beautiful, as always, my dear.”

You let out a startled shriek and spun on your heel, only to find the grinning face and sparkling eyes of Prince Loki fixed on you. He walked out from between the trees with languid movements, a feline-like grace. It was one of the many ways he was different from his brother, Prince Thor. Light and dark. Broad and slim. Loud and quiet. Brash and considered.

You dropped into a deep curtsy, keeping your eyes trained on his black leather boots.

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, get up, please. There’s just the two of us here, in the most informal setting ever.”

You looked up at him as you stood back up.

“Much better,” he purred. “If I ever desire you to kneel, dove, you’ll know about it.”

You raised your hand in front of your face and giggled at his implication.

“I have no doubt that you have any number of people ready to kneel for you, Highness.”

He raised his eyebrow and smirked before offering the crook of his arm towards you. You bobbed a small curtsy and, with a smile, looped your arm into his. You both started to stroll down the track, further into the woodland.

“The problem with that, dove, is that it’s boring. Where is the fun, the excitement, when everyone is willing to bend over backwards to do what you want?”

“Nice problem to have, though.”

Loki chuckled.

“Are you telling me that you don’t have the same problem?”

It was your turn to smirk.

“Me? I’m just a maid, and you’re a prince. I won’t lie, I get my fair amount of attention, but probably nothing compared to you.”

“I fear my mother would have an aneurysm if she knew I was talking to one of her trusted servants about such improper things.”

“You’re beloved mother would roll her eyes and then quietly chastise me - I am known to be the least lady-like of her ladies.”

You let go of his arm and skipped in front of him, spinning around and throwing your arms up in the air.

“She despairs of me, but luckily, I’m her favourite. I just find it difficult to hold my tongue when someone says or does something stupid.”

Loki reached out and snagged your hand and lifted both your arms, twirling you under them.

“How could anyone tame such a nymph as you? I must say you look a lot happier out here than when I’ve seen you by my mother’s side.”

His smile was warm, and you blossomed under it like a flower beneath the sun. Most of the folk who approached you did so in hope of taking advantage of your influence with the Queen. Not that you had much - those people always imagined you had her right ear and were able to manipulate policies and treaties, which was ludicrous. The only thing you could sway was which dress and jewels she wore, and even then you’d say your success rate was less than 50%.

It was nice though, to have a conversation with someone who had no ulterior motive for being nice to you. It wasn’t as though you’d be able to help advance a member of the royal family. His tone was light and flirty, and he was exceedingly charming, and it was fun to have some harmless fun. It’s not like he was really interested. Probably just doing the same as you and escaping the stuffiness of both the palace and your individual roles.

Somehow, when you’d come back to his side, you’d ended up with his arm over your shoulder. You couldn’t say that you minded. It brought you closer to him, and you could smell the scent that was distinctly Loki; leather, sandalwood, and a perfumed musk. It was obvious that he cared for his appearance, but he didn’t primp or overdo it.

“So, is that what brings you out here, Nymph? My mother’s despair?”

“Oh no - not today, well at least not yet. I was going mad being trapped inside over Winter, so now that Spring is raising its head, I decided to venture forth and bask in her beauty.”

“Well that decision was fortuitous, as it allows me to bask in yours.”

With a giggle, you bumped your shoulder up against his side. He really was fun to be around.

“And, if I may ask, my Prince, why are you out here today?”

He squeezed your shoulder with his hand, and you were hyper-aware of the way his long, tapered fingers dug gently but firmly into your flesh. A rush of images raced through your mind, and you fought hard to squash them down.

“Anything is better than listening to my father try to teach my brother about affairs of state. While Thor is very skilled at a lot of things, diplomacy and negotiation are not his strong suites, but you didn’t hear that from me, Nymph.”

You smiled and mimed locking your lips with a key. When he smiled back and brushed your forehead with his lips, you almost expired.

“So where are we wandering too? I take it you had a destination in mind?”

Loki’s question drew you back from the meandering of your own mind.

“Oh? Yes. I quite like the little summer house that’s a bit further down the track. If the weather is inclement, it provides just the right amount of cover, but when it is nice and sunny, it provides useful shade.”

Just then, you shivered, bumps coming up on your bare arms. As you peered up through the canopy of branches above you, you saw that a rather large, grey cloud had come over.

“Oh dear. I think we might need that shelter. That’s the problem with Spring; the weather can turn so quickly.”

The moment the words left your mouth, a large raindrop landed on the end of your nose with a large ‘plop’. Then the floodgates opened. One moment it was dry, the next it felt as though someone was trying to dump a bucket of water over you.

You screeched and with your hands over your head, ineffectually trying to keep your hair dry, you raced down the path, toward your destination. You heard Loki’s footsteps right behind you and the pair of you virtually tumbled through the wooden doors of the summer house, laughing heartily. However, you were now in the shade and with your clothes and skin sodden, you couldn’t repress your shiver of cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to warm up, only to realise that your gauzy dress had turned almost entirely see-through due to the water. The fabric clung to your legs, hips and decolletage, highlighting your soft curves, as well as causing a chill to settle deep into your skin.

You realised that Loki was no longer laughing either, and you looked toward him, only to be trapped in the green of his eyes. They drew you in as they also devoured your form. You were aware of the drumming of the rain on the sloped wooden roof of your shelter. You were aware of the gentle ‘plop’ noise as water rolled off his leathers. You were aware of the delicate movement of his fingers as he took off his emerald cape. You were aware of the beating of your heart as he stepped even closer and threw the sumptuous fabric around your shoulders, drawing you nearer. You were aware of his soft breath as it warmed your chilled lips.

“You are cold, Nymph. Will you let me warm you?”

His voice permeated your senses as if you were in a dream; warm, soft, all-encompassing. There was a tension to the air, but one as delicate as a cobweb. One wrong move, and it would all collapse, leaving virtually nothing in its wake. You took a half step closer, barely a sliver of air separating you.

“Please…” Your whispered plea had barely left you when his lips descended to yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your middle. Your own fingers slid up to his wet hair, tangling in his ebony tresses as you opened yourself to him. He was full of passion, of a strength you’d never imagined, given his usual behaviour, but it was intoxicating, pulling you under his spell.

“Your Highness! Please!”

You breathed your plea into his mouth, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the prominent bulge in his leather trousers. His hands slid down your back, over the swell of your buttocks, to grasp at your soft thighs, lifting you with his godly strength and taking a few strides to place you down on the small couch.

He continued to kiss you while his clever fingers dealt with the clasps of your dress, peeling the damp fabric away from your skin and exposing it to the cool air. Your nipples immediately hardened at the sensation, and then you gasped as his hands moved to your breasts, and his thumbs skimmed over the stiffened peaks.

Your own questing fingers pulled ineffectually at his clothes, the leather failing to yield to you. You both heard and felt Loki chuckle, and with a flash of his green seidr, his clothes disappeared. He pulled his lips from yours, leaning back and baring his alabaster skin to your gaze before grinning and then latching back onto the soft flesh of your neck. You moaned at the pleasure and wiggled your lower half, assisting him in fully removing your clothes. The fabric landed on the wooden floor with a wet ‘splat’, but you were now too focused on other things to care.

Like the warmth from Loki’s lips as they trailed down your next and across your collarbone. Like how one hand rested on your thigh, and his fingers, despite their gentle grip, felt like a brand, marking you as his. Like how the other hand rested, oh so teasingly, on your mound, his index finger toying with the thatch of curls that grew there. Things like how the muscles of his back and chest felt under your eager fingers. He may have been the slimmer of the two brothers, but he was still made of solid muscle, firm and strong.

As Loki trailed his lips down your body, you moaned and squirmed, eager to feel him more intimately.

“Patience, my Nymph. I don’t want to heat you up too fast.”

Part of you wanted to scream at him, but part of you never wanted this to end. You weren’t stupid - this was only a tryst - a way to pass the time and work out frustrations, so you wanted to commit every second to memory.

Loki’s lips on your inner thigh, his nose grazing against your folds had your back arching, your hands firmly back in his hair now. He teased you for what felt like forever, his breath warming your core and promising so much. You threw your legs over his shoulders, trying to urge him to move forward and put you out of your misery.

“Who am I to you, dove?”

His question surprised you, and you lifted your head as he lifted his eyes, full of confusion.

“Your Highness?”

His fingers started to circle your opening with a feather-like touch, and you whined.

“It’s a simple question, my dear. Who am I to you?”

“You are my Prince, your Highness.”

His lips twitched up with a wry smile as his eyes sparkled like the most priceless emeralds.

“Just a prince? Could a man who was only a prince make your heart beat like the hooves of Sleipnir running along the Bifrost? Could a prince make your cunt weep as Freyja wept when she was left alone by Óðr for months on end?

Oh!

Realisation dawn in your lust-fogged mind.

“No, a Prince could not do that. Which means you are my King, Highness. My God.”

“Yes, Nymph. That I am. And I will show you a glimpse of Vahalla.”

He lowered his head again, fastening straight onto your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling on it. The fingers that had been teasing your entrance slipped deftly inside you, and you keened. Not only was he pleasuring you with no ulterior motive, but he was actually pleasuring you, something that the majority of your previous lovers either weren’t good at, or didn’t care about. No wonder he was nicknamed ‘Silvertongue’.

Loki’s fingers and lips explored you, learning what made you tremble and what made you cry out under him, and when you unintentionally tugged at his hair, he went where you lead, taking you towards that high heady peak, where the oxygen was thin, causing you to go dizzy before you fell off the edge, your body wracked with ecstasy. You cried out his name, over and over, the only word your mind could remember.

“There you go, dove. That’s it. You came so beautifully for me.”

A warmth spread through you at his praise, and you opened your arms, inviting him back into your embrace. You needed to feel him near you, feel his weight on you. You longed to envelop him with your body and return the pleasure he had gifted you. He smiled impishly and crawled up your body, trailing kissing up your heated skin, and when he reached your face, he recaptured your lips, letting you taste your own release. His cock nudged your thigh, and you shifted, wordlessly encouraging him to take what he wanted from you.

Without warning, Loki flipped the pair of you, and you found yourself straddling him as his back lay against the soft couch.

“Are you ready to please your king? Fuck yourself on my cock, and make us both feel good.”

Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded with faux shyness and looked down.

And got your first proper view of his cock.

For a moment you froze, partly from concern, but mostly from want. You wanted, no needed, him inside you. You could almost imagine the delicious stretch, the immense fullness, and your cunt wept more for him at just the thought.

Your hand wrapped around him, learning him as he’d learnt you. You felt every ridge, every vein, and teased his slit with your thumb. When he let out a hiss, you smirked, feeling pride in your chest at making him lose his composure, albeit briefly.

“Norns! You are testing my patience, Nymph. Don’t keep your king waiting…”

You smiled, as mischievous as he’d been only a few minutes previously.

“Good things come to those who wait, Your Highness.”

However, despite your words, you gave in to his entreaties. You rose up on your knees and with your hand, positioned him at your entrance. You teased both of you for a moment, swirling his broad head through your wetness before, spurred on by a brief growl, you slowly let yourself sink down.

The stretch was as good as you’d imagined, and you had to bounce slowly and gently to ease him inside of you. You did so with your head thrown back, your hands holding your own breasts while Loki’s hands gripped your waist, steadying you. When your inner thighs met his hips, you moaned at how deep he was inside you. You lowered a hand to rest on his firm chest, steadying yourself.

“You are definitely a God, Highness. No Prince, no mere mortal, could fill me like this.” His eyes flashed with triumphant amusement, pleasure at you indulging his whims.

Slowly, you rose up, letting him slide from the clutch of your cunt until only the tip remained, teasing your sensitive entrance, before sliding back down to feel him fully again. You repeated the movement, and while your intention was to make it last, the feeling was too intoxicating, and within moments you were riding him fast and hard.

Loki didn’t seem to mind though - if his expression was anything to go by when you glimpsed it from between your hooded eyelids, he was greatly enjoying your abandon. The hands on your waist tightened, and you hoped he would leave marks, so you would have a physical reminder of this encounter for even longer.

With each upwards movement of your body, his thick cock stroked over your walls, and with each counter-movement, his tip nudged over that spot inside you, and the neat thatch of hair at his base scratched wonderfully over your engorged clit. You could feel your orgasm approaching once more, and your movements became more frantic.

When Loki sat up, pulling you to him and burying his head in your chest to suckle on your breasts, you were done for. The pleasure barreled into you, knocking you back off that cliff edge, leaving you a trembling and mewling mess in his strong arms. The world tilted once again, and you felt the soft sofa fabric at your back before your entire focus became how Loki was now rutting into you with hard, feral strokes, chasing his own high. With a shout, he threw his head back, and you saw the veins in his neck pulse in time with his cock that was buried deep inside you.

For a moment, you had an unobstructed view of his torso, and you took the chance to memorise every part that you could see, before he dropped back down, smiling and panting, hips still flush to yours, prolonging the intimacy for as long as possible.

You wound your arms around his neck and smiled back. Coils of his damp hair slid over his shoulder, and a water droplet rolled down a strand to land on your collarbone with a soft ‘splat’. Loki looked at the small puddle on your skin as if becoming aware of both your soaked states for the first time.

“I should fix that.”

Another flash of green and you were both dry. Loki’s hair was now fluffed up around his shoulders. Turning your head towards the sodden pile that was your dress, you saw to your amazement that it was now perfectly dry and neatly folded. You looked back at the Prince and raised an eyebrow.

“Did you just dry us and our clothes off with your magic? Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

He grinned, his expression somewhat sheepish.

“Wouldn’t have been nearly romantic if I had, would it?”

You laughed, unintentionally clenching down on where he was still encompassed by your soft heat. In response, Loki moaned and gave a tentative thrust.

“Again, Highness? Already?” You were both shocked and aroused by his quick recovery.

“Well, I am a God, Nymph.”

His lips captured yours once more as the spring rain continued to fall outside.

Tag List: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @animnerd @strangeprincex @mochie85

#rolling into spring #loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #late writes

143 notes · View notes