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#{ you were the loveliest of all | musings }
adoregojo · 3 months
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secret admirer.
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hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.
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isagi.y
him. just him.
you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.
and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.
yea, just like that
but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside
and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.
an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.
he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.
then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.
definitely prayed that you didn't see that.
writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.
gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.
still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.
he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.
his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.
leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.
it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."
then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.
dumb, dumby.
takes time to make the first move though.
he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.
it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.
he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.
chigiri.h
omgg pretty boyyy
despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.
and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.
but everything flipped when you stood up for him.
from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.
out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.
reads all your favourite books and analysis it.
probably named a cat after you.
like isagi he writes love letters for you.
just a little too poetic..
it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."
but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."
what a lovesick clown.
he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.
told his mother and sister about you.
it was his biggest regrets.
because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.
he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.
couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.
wants to hold your hand.
like, really badly.
it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.
the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.
he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.
he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.
bachira.m
the sunshine boy himself.
the definition of fell first AND fell harder.
it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.
you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.
but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.
it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.
then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.
and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.
it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.
but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.
painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.
maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...
stares at your face a way, way too long.
he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.
even he doesn't believe that however.
he draws your eyes a lot.
his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.
he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........
so he insisted gets you a gift!
which is a rock.
yes you heard me, rock.
he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.
almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.
and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.
so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.
that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.
and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.
definitely rambles about you to his mom.
and his monster.
he once ha a dream about you two smooching.
cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.
you two confessed first, at the same time.
and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.
he almost smooch you that moment and then.
reo.m
it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.
you fell first, he fell harder.
no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.
and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.
?????????
love at first (fall??) sight.
he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.
your chair, desk, locker, bag.
he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..
you say how he picked them?
easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.
and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.
reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.
he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.
paid even more to get a seat next to you.
rip to whoever was sitting next to you.
he once heard that a guy was bothering you.
the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.
hm, must be karma then.
has a shrine of you.
but you didn't hear that from me.
talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.
genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.
has a flight under your name.
made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.
had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.
reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.
then he sees you smiling
BOOM
he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.
you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.
had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.
now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)
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have a nice day everyone.
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forever-rogue · 1 year
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thank u for feeding my joel brainrot
may i request something a bit angsty where reader gets injured but still lives through it although seeing reader injured and joel having to carry her brought him flashbacks to sarah
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AN | Pain! We have some pain - but also a whole lot of fluff! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“We need to get back,” his gruff voice cut through the fleeting moment of happiness. You knew he was right, and he knew that you knew he was right. You bent down and plucked one of the few blooms that had actually managed to blossom in the barren field. It was a pretty, small thing, purplish blue with soft petals. 
You turned around to face Joel again and held the flower out to him, a gentle expression on your face compared to the hard look on his face. After a few beats of silence passed before he took it from your hands, twirling it between his fingers, “Joel-”
“It’s going to be dark soon,” he cut you off, bringing a pout to your face but you nodded in understanding. He studied the expression on your face before sighing heavily, his shoulders sagging with what felt like the weight of the world, “it’s not safe out here. I’d let you stay out here as long as you wanted if -”
“Things were different,” you finished for him and he caught your eye before offering a curt nod. It was a risk being out of the Quarantine Zone in general, and you weren’t lost on the fact that Joel put a lot on the line in order to get out, even if it was just for a few hours. Before you could say anything else, he tenderly tucked the flower behind your ear, his hand going to your jaw as he studied you. Wordlessly he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek, a mere ghost of a kiss. 
“Come on,” it took a moment to shake off the stupor his sweet gesture had thrown you in. It wasn’t that Joel wasn’t kind or loving, he was just…rough around the edges. You couldn’t blame him; you couldn’t blame anyone these days. He’d lost so much more than you had, and had experienced a full life before the outbreak. You were a fair bit younger, hadn’t had the full chance at life yet, and it had been easier for you to adapt. Which felt weird at best to say. He showed his affections differently, but you welcomed them how they came.
He turned around and set off back towards the QZ, leaving behind only the crunching of gravel under his boot. You made quick work of grabbing a few more flowers and gently stuffing them into your backpack before turning to follow him, “Joel?”
He made a sound of acknowledgment but didn’t turn around, expecting you to catch up with him. When he noticed that you weren’t right there, he turned around, hands on his hips accompanied by a heavy sigh, “you better hurry up or I’ll leave you here on your own!”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you flung the backpack over your shoulder before running to catch up to him. You were laughing now and you could see the tiniest of smiles on his face. It was a rare occurrence and you tried to make it come out as possible; he had the loveliest smile, even if he didn’t agree. When you finally caught up to him, you stopped and almost skidded onto the ground, breathless but happy, “you love me too much for that.”
“Whatever you say kid,” you knew him well enough by now to know that tender affection laced his words, “c’mon. It’s probably going to rain on top of it.”
“I like the rain,” you mused as you fell into step with him. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that he was listening intently, “when I was a kid…we had this huge pond right near our house. Whenever it rained all the frogs would come out, and they’d be so loud, especially the bullfrogs. It was like they were singing, in their own froggy way. I used to go out there and sit and listen to them. My mom would always have to drag me inside and insisted I would get a cold from being out in the rain, even though she knew that wasn’t how it worked. I miss that…I miss being able to just do things and not have to worry about anything.”
Joel was silent, but you knew he’d listened to every word you said. Sometimes he wasn’t a man of many words. But you felt him reach for your hand, taking it in his and threading your fingers together. He let out a world-weary, tired sigh, “me too.”
It was silent for a lot of the walk back, but it was a comfortable silence, a lot of understanding flowing between the two of you. It wasn’t until you reached the hill you’d have to climb down to get back that you worried about anything. Climbing up had been one thing, easy, even if it left you breathless. Getting back down seemed like an entirely different challenge. 
“You alright?” he noticed your hesitation as you swallowed thickly, but only nodded, “follow after me.”
You watched as Joel tossed his backpack down, before slowly traversing through the uneven ground to get back down. In reality, it wasn’t that huge of a drop, but it still made you nervous. Once he was safely back on the level ground, he waved for you to go. You tossed the backpack down, letting it land next to him. You grabbed onto a thin tree trunk, trying to stabilize your footing before going down. 
But fate seemed to have another plan. A very painful plan. As soon as you’d let go of the tree, you went to shuffle down but the uneven soil  caused you to slip and start to tumble. It all happened so fast, that it seemed to be over before you knew it and you were on the ground, the air almost knocked from your lungs as you landed on your side. 
You knew something was wrong almost immediately as you felt pain shooting up your leg and saw the odd angle it was bent at. A shaky breath escaped your lips, tears already welling up, an involuntary reaction to the pain your body was experiencing. 
You whimpered as you tried to move your leg, but Joel was already at your side, hands on your biceps as he helped you to sit up. A look of sheer panic was written all over his face, “oh baby. What happened? What…fuck. Fuck.”
“It hurts,” you cried trying to move so you could inspect the damage. There was a nasty, gnarly looking gash running down your left leg from knee to ankle. Your ankle was already swelling and bruising, and you knew that something was wrong. Your breathing was ragged and you knew that all you needed to do was calm down and everything would be alright, “‘m scared.”
“I know, baby. But it’s okay. I’ve got you, okay? Don’t look at your leg,” he cradled your face in his hands as he turned your face up to his, “just look at me. Look at me, okay?”
“Okay,” big, fat crocodile tears ran down your cheeks and you saw him close his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself. You could tell he was nervous, and trying to keep it together; one of you had to be calm and strong right and it had to be him. He brushed your tears away before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Joel…”
“Eyes on me,” he repeated as you only managed to nod. He reached into his backpack and grabbed out some of the first aid supplies, which he thankfully always brought, before getting out some antiseptic liquid, clean gauze, and some bandages, “this is going to hurt a little bit, okay? Just hold onto my arm, squeeze as tight as you need to.”
Despite his warning, you were not prepared for the pain that the liquid was going to bring out. It was a deep cut, you could tell from the blood and agony, but fuck. It was extremely painful and you gasped wildly as you clutched onto his upper arm tightly, “it hurts. It hurts, Joel. Please.”
“I know,” he whispered softly, his own voice thick with tears. This was one of his worst nightmares - that something would happen to you, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He’d been through this same situation before and his heart couldn’t handle having to go through it again, especially if something were to happen to you. He quickly wiped away the tears that blurred his vision with the back of his hand. He knew that he’d be all bruised up from where you were holding him, but he didn’t care, “almost done. You’re okay, baby.”
You weren’t able to form any coherent words, only making small sounds of pain as he worked to clean the wound, slapping on some antibiotic spray, and wrapping it up as tightly and securely as possible. The sting and pain slowly started to subside and your breathing slowly started to even out and the next time you looked down, all you could see was white bandaging. You loosened your grip on his arm, still shaky and worried, “i-is it going to be okay?”
“It’ll be okay for now,” he promised, tenderly brushing your rogue locks of hair out of your face, “and it will be okay. I think you’re going to need stitches, but that can be easily done when we get back.”
“Thank you,” before you could think about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, trembling in his grasp. He held onto you just as tightly, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing, “thank you.”
He held you for a few minutes longer before reluctantly pulling back and standing up. Joel held out his hands towards you, and slowly helped you to your feet - foot - catching you as you stumbled slightly. His frown deepened when he saw you struggling to put any weight on it, “can you walk?”
“No,” you sniffled and the memory of his daughter in the same situation flashed in his mind. This time though, he swore it to himself and to the universe, there would be a different outcome, “‘s bad. It hurts. You have to leave me. Go back and I-I can wait a bit until it gets better.”
“No,” he insisted firmly, leaving absolutely no room for discussion, “I am not leaving you out here on your own. Are you crazy?”
“Joel, I can’t walk!” you tried to keep yourself from panicking, trying not to imagine every horrible thing that could happen, “you have to leave me.”
“I am not leaving you, and that’s final,” he grabbed both of your backpacks and threw them on. He turned to you with a hard look on your face and you knew in that moment that it wasn’t anger or annoyance - it was fear. He was scared, “I’m going to carry you.”
“I-”
“It is not up for discussion,” there was no amusement anywhere on his face as he gently scooped you into his arms, cradling you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as you listened to his breathing, the sound of his heart as he started to head back. After a while of silence, both of you on edge for different reasons, he whispered to you, “I’m going to keep you safe. I won’t ever let anything happen to you.”
You weren’t sure if he expected a response or even wanted one, but you couldn’t let his words die in silence, “I love you, too.”
He didn’t need to say the words in order for you to know exactly what he meant. You already knew; everything he’d ever done or said told you so.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You’d fallen asleep at some point, whether from sheer exhaustion or the overwhelming, or a combination of the two, you didn’t know. The last thing you really remembered was coming Joel sneaking back in, extremely careful since he was carrying you. As soon as you’d gotten back to his place, you passed out. But you were home and safe - just like he’d promised.
Your eyes were dry and heavy by the time you opened them up, slowly sitting up as you looked around. It was light outside, but rain was slowly falling outside, gently tapping against the window. You made a small sound as you rubbed at your bleary eyes. You could smell fresh coffee and you knew that Joel was there. 
Before you could even call for him, you felt the bed dip at your side. You smiled softly when you found Joel on his knees at your side, eyes nervous and expectant. You laid back down, burrowing into his pillow and inhaling his familiar scent that clung onto the fabric. You reached over and put your hand on his face, stroking your thumb over his cheek, “my hero.”
He scoffed at that but you grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at you, to look into your eyes. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist before, squeezing delicately, “baby.”
“I mean it Joel,” this time you made sure he knew that you were leaving no room for discussion. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes before you could feel him nod lightly into your touch, “thank you for saving me.”
“As if that was ever a question,” he pulled your hand away, holding it in his before squeezing gently and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “you had me scared, kid.”
“I had me scared,” you laughed softly, the sound causing his heart to melt slightly, “I’m sorry, Joel.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, wishing he could find all the words to properly convey how he was feeling. It was so many things all at once, and almost overwhelmed him, “your leg is stitched up but the ankle...it’s not broken, but it's a bad sprain. You’re going to have to take it easy for a while.”
“Ugh. That’s not-”
“For me?” he pulled out the one thing he knew you wouldn’t say no to, “please? Baby.”
“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, causing the smallest of smiles to tug up the corner of his mouth, “will you get me my backpack, please?”
“I don’t think you-”
“Joel,” you pulled out your best puppy dog eyes, the very ones you knew he couldn’t say no to. He grumbled under his breath, the sound laced with affection as he went over to the door to fetch your pack. He set it next to you on the bed before nudging you over so he could sit at your side.”
You unzipped it and quickly reached inside for the flowers you’d collected. Luckily, for some reason, they weren’t terribly squished and you were able to pull them out intact. You bundled them together in your hand before holding them out to Joel. 
“What are you doing, huh?”
“They’re for you,” you smiled sweetly, “I picked them for you. Flowers always brighten my day and so do you. Who better to give them to?”
He immediately felt choked up at your kind gesture, slowly taking them from your hand, his fingers brushing over yours. He looked at them before looking back at your eager eyes, a smile, big and genuine, crossing his features. You would do anything to keep that smile on his face. He exhaled softly, taking one of your hands in his and meeting your eyes, “I love you.”
All you could do was match his smile as you tugged on his hand so he would join you on the bed. He gently set the flowers onto the nightstand and climbed in next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you into him, your back against his chest. You closed your eyes as you snuggled against him, putting a hand over his. In that moment, there was nowhere else you’d rather have been.
“I love you too, Joel.”
4K notes · View notes
azrielsdove · 6 months
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Til Death Do Us Part: Rhysand x Reader
Warnings: Longgg, angst, smut, 18+
***
The glittering lights above shown like stars down onto you. You spun in a slow circle, taking in the dangerously beautiful ballroom. This was the first time you were allowed to attend one of the High Lords parties. You had always longed to come, but your highly old fashioned father did not think it appropriate for you to attend. You were not sure what changed his mind this time, but you certainly weren’t going to argue with him.
You smoothed your hands over the blue velvet of your dress, admiring the way it looked under the lights. For the first time you felt beautiful, ethereal, desirable. You had heard about the deadly handsome High Lord, fingers tingling with excitement at finally getting to see him. Not that you expected him to pay any attention to you.
Yet there was no harm in daydreams.
The large doors to the room burst open, commanding attention. You turned to see everyone drop to a bow, dutifully bending to your knee as well. You kept your head politely pointed at the ground, listening as the High Lord and his closest warriors crossed the great room. You waited patiently until you heard; “Rise.” The cold, indifferent voice sent a shiver through you as you stood. You looked up to the dias where the High Lord sat, lightning shooting through your spine when your eyes connected with his.
You froze in shock, unable to tear your gaze from his. The cruel violet eyes bore into your own, a mixture of fear and excitement running through you. The High Lord was looking at you.
He finally moved his gaze away, beckoning Keir up to his throne. You lowered your head and walked to the edges of the room, grabbing a delicate glass of wine on your way. You stood near the wall, observing the others dance and drink around you. You were so engrossed in your watching that you didn’t notice the large shape press in next to you.
“Hello there.”
You whipped around so quickly you nearly spilled your wine, rendered speechless by the male standing next to you. He was gorgeous. You regained enough sense to politely bow your head, a soft murmur of “My Lord,” falling from your lips.
“How beautiful that sounds coming from your mouth.” He mused, enjoying the way a blush spread through your cheeks. What is happening? you thought to yourself, unsure of how to continue. The High Lord gave a dark chuckle, continuing; “Oh, darling. What is happening, you ask?” Your eyes shot up at him in surprise. He could read your mind? He laughed again. “Loveliest thing, what all have they kept from you? Hiding you away all these years?” His words were dripping in honey, deadly sweet.
You regained some composure, taking a small sip of your wine. “Forgive me, My Lord. I am not so used to the customs of Court.” You spoke politely, hoping you would say the right thing. His eyes twinkled at your response, a smirk on his face.
“Then I shall teach you.” He said, holding his arm out for you to take. You bowed your head to him again, setting your glass on a nearby table before sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow. It was dangerous to play this game with the High Lord, especially when someone knew as little as you.
He lead you to the center of the ballroom, ensuring all eyes would be on the pair of you. His hand came to circle your waist, the other sliding into yours. You placed your remaining hand on his shoulder, heart racing. You knew how to dance, having been primed to be a perfect, delicate high fae wife. That was not what made you nervous. What made you nervous was the look on your High Lords face as he gazed down at you.
He looked like he wanted to devour you.
The music began, a dark, sensual tune. The High Lord led you around the floor in an elegant dance, body pressed tight to yours. “Why have you never attended before?” He asked, cocking his head slightly. You gave a demure smile, playing the role you were trained to.
“My father did not think it appropriate for a female to attend such an event.” You answered, voice light.
The High Lord looked at you curiously. “Plenty of females come, it’s a prime event to find the best male to be married off to. I am simply surprised your father would not want such a delicious thing as you to find an advantageous match.”
Your cheeks colored again under his words, not used to hearing such things. “I am sure he knew what was best for me.” You replied softly, allowing the High Lord to twirl you out and back.
“Mmm.” He mused, looking down at you. “Perhaps so.”
The music ended with a sharp note, the High Lord keeping a tight hold on you. He took a step back, offering you his hand. You took it with a respectful nod of your head, following him as he led you up to his throne. He sat, motioning for you to place yourself on his lap.
You let out a politely embarrassed laugh, telling him; “My Lord, I do not think it would be appropriate.”
There was a brightness to his eyes, something that was peaking out from the cold exterior he presented. “Nonsense. I am the High Lord, no one would dare say something. If you are worried that you may not seem like a well-bred match anymore, do not. I can personally match you to anyone of your choosing.” He spoke, gesturing to the room full of fae. “Now sit.”
Heat rose in you at his tone, placing yourself delicately on his lap. His arm wrapped around your waist, hand settling on your hip. His other hand came up to slip just an inch under your dress, tracing the high strap of your heel on your ankle. You took a calming breath, not wanting him to see how his touch affected you.
“What is your name?” He asked, smiling when you spoke it. “Beautiful.” He murmured, leaning closer to trace his nose against your neck. Fire flared through your body, your hand gripping onto his shirt. You knew that you should not be acting like this, that you should have politely declined the High Lords offer to sit up here.
His teeth grazed your neck, all thoughts vanishing from your mind.
You felt the hand on your ankle move up ever so slightly, a smile against the skin of your neck. “My Lord,” you breathed out, trying to regain some sense of self. “This is highly inappropriate.”
He answered by biting down where your shoulder and neck met, eliciting a loud gasp from you. Your mind went blank, the only thought in there was of him doing that again, again. “Do you think I care?” He drawled out, sinking another bite into your skin. The hand on your leg moved steadily up, passing over your knee. You were going to burst into flame.
“ENOUGH!” A voice bellowed through the room, ripping you out of the haze of lust the High Lord had created. You turned to see your father striding up the steps to the throne, anger visible on every inch of his body. You moved to jump away from the High Lord, mortified. His grip tightened on your waist, keeping you there.
“Why do you think it’s acceptable to barge up here and raise your voice at your High Lord?” His voice was cold, flat. He was annoyed with your father. You felt a shiver of fear run through you at what he would do, at what they both may do.
Your father scoffed. “When he is defiling my daughter in front of any match she may make. Who do you think will take her now, after watching her whore herself out for you?” He spat his words, fists clenched tight.
“Hmm.” The High Lord mused, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. “She didn’t seem to have any argument.”
“She wasn’t raised to argue, she was raised to wed an acceptable match! If you have no intention of being her betrothed, High Lord, then you can get your hands off her!” You wanted to shrink at your fathers words, embarrassment coursing through you.
“And who’s to say I don’t plan to wed her?” The High Lord spoke, voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room. You stiffened on his lap, digesting the words he just said.
“What are you saying?” Your father demanded, his voice inquisitive.
The High Lords hand gripped onto your thigh under your skirts, pressing kisses to your neck. “Who’s to say I don’t plan to wed your daughter? You say you want an acceptable match, am I not acceptable?” The words were cocky, teasing. He knew your father would not deny an offer like this. To marry his only daughter off to the most powerful High Lord of all time? It did not matter that everyone knew he was a cruel man, your father didn’t care about you. He cared about what it would bring to the family, what a match like this could do for him.
“Very well then, High Lord. If you are serious about wedding my daughter, let’s plan a wedding. Soon. Very soon.” Your father said, wanting to ensure a marriage before the High Lord could lose interest in you.
“Yes,” he said, waving your father off. “Now leave us, so I can celebrate this news with my bride-to-be.”
***
The wedding was set for three days time. You couldn’t deny that you scared, terrified even. Yes, the High Lord was a beautifully handsome man. You could certainly do worse in that regard. But he was cruel. Now that you were due to marry, your mother set to teaching you all there was to know about him. A large part of which included dreadful tales of the horrific acts he has done.
Your father had promised you to this?
You shouldn’t be so surprised. You knew he would marry you off to the first respectable male to look your way. You supposed any of the other males of the Hewn City wouldn’t be much better, and certainly wouldn’t come with the prestige of being the High Lords wife. You hoped that secretly he was kind, that maybe he would be a good husband.
You sighed, gazing at yourself in the mirror as the seamstresses worked around you. They were pinning delicate white fabric over your body, creating a dress that your mother decided was good enough for the High Lord. The dress was very modest, long sleeves and a high neckline. You weren’t sure this is what he would have picked, but you were not going to get into it with your mother.
A knock on the doorframe diverted your attention from the reflection in the mirror, turning to see violet eyes looking back at you. “Hello, Darling.” He drawled, stepping into the room. Your mother tittered, upset that he was seeing your dress before the wedding. The High Lord walked a slow circle around you, observing the fabric thrown over your body. “No.” He finally said, looking to your mother. “This won’t do.” She looked taken aback that he would even have an opinion, but nodded politely.
“Of course, My Lord. What would you prefer her to wear?” She asked, failing to hide her displeasure in the situation.
“Let me show you.” The High Lord replied, a teasing smile on his face. You watched as your mothers face paled at the image he broadcasted into her mind. You had learned of his Daemati powers in the onslaught of information your mother threw at you, understanding now how he was able to be inside your mind. You tried to clear your mind of the fears you were having at the thought, hoping he wouldn’t notice them.
Your mother nodded, saying; “Whatever you wish, High Lord.” She gestured for him to show the seamstresses, so they could work on the new design. In the next second the fabric was off of you, replaced with a shimmering silver. The seamstresses started pinning the dress together, turning you into an object of desire. You stared at your reflection in shock, fingers trailing over the thigh-high slits and deep v the High Lord had decided on. Your eyes shot up to find his in the mirror, the violet bright.
“Now that is what I expect the bride of the Night Court in.” His tone was teasing, the almost permanent smirk back on his face. You couldn’t tell if the shiver that ran through you was from dread or lust. Is this what your future was going to be?
***
The wedding day came much too quickly. There was a flurry of activity around you, everyone moving in a blur. You sat at the vanity, countless fae making you over. Your hair was done up, sensual makeup covered your face, and delicate silver jewelry decorated your skin. You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing the stunning high fae looking back. This was who you should be now. Perfectly made up, as the High Lord says.
Was one evening of dark seduction worth the rest of your life?
After the deal had been made, your father had left the two of you. The High Lord had not made any further moves on you, instead whispering sweet nothings into your ears, plying you with more wine. You had felt thrilled that night, running on the feelings he was giving you and the wine you had drunk. Sober, and away from him, you were aware that you could be heading into a terrible and dangerous future.
A knock on the door tore you from your thoughts, standing as your mother entered the room. Her gaze rolled over you, taking in the delicately sexy gown on your body, the way you had been remade into a deadly beautiful queen. A perfect match for the Lord of Night. “It is time.” She finally said, lips pressed tight together. “Let us go.”
You trailed after your mother, no love shared between the two of you. To her you had fulfilled your purpose, marrying very well for the family. She did not care how deadly the High Lord was, she did not care about the horrible things he had done. He was the High Lord, and her daughter was marrying him. She had succeeded. There was no further time to be wasted on training you.
She paused before the great iron doors, turning to look you over. “If he prefers his wife to look like a whore, you’ve certainly succeeded.” She sneered, eyes judging. “Do not mess this up for us.” She looked you over one last time, scoffing at your appearance. Then she was gone.
You were alone.
Standing before the doors, about to walk through and pledge yourself to the High Lord of the Night Court for eternity. You half thought about turning and running, but where would you go? He would undoubtedly find you anywhere you went, and what would he do to you then? You felt suddenly sick, willing the thoughts away. You could do this. You held on to the little bit of hope that a kinder male lay underneath, and the doors opened before you.
You walked to the elegant march, taking in the massive crowd in front of you. All of the Hewn City was here, at least. You kept your head up, finding the High Lord at the end of the aisle. Your heart sped up at the sight of him. Damn it all, no matter what he had done he was beautiful. The most striking male you had ever seen. Your eyes moved to the side, taking in his large warriors. The General, and the Shadowsinger. They were just as dangerous as the High Lord himself.
It wasn’t like the Hewn City wasn’t full of its own dangers, however. You knew this place was a pit of Hell to others, a place where evil thrives. Perhaps a life with the High Lord would not be any worse than a life with any other male. You had been prepared for this, made to be a dutiful wife. You lifted your head higher, a demure smile appearing across your face. The right amount of excitement for a lady to show on her wedding day.
You reached the bottom of the steps, leading up to your High Lord. The General was waiting, an arm extended to assist you up. You gave him a grateful smile, noticing a secret light in his eyes. You held tight to his arm, hoping you could ground yourself before you stood in front of your soon-to-be husband. All too soon you reached the top of the stairs, the General depositing you in front of the High Lord.
“Hello, Darling.” He spoke, hand reaching out for yours. You smiled politely at him, placing your hand in his. “You look exquisite.” His eyes were smiling, different than the cunning one on his face. He held you in front of him, turning to the High Priestess next to him.
“Let us begin.”
At his command the Priestess launched into the marriage ceremony, countless prayers and vows repeated. The High Lord wrapped his fingers around yours, eyes locking to you. “I vow to be yours, and only yours, from now until forever. I vow to give you the best life, a life you have dreamed of. I vow to love you until the end of eternity, as long as the stars shine in the sky you will be mine.” You were shocked by the sincerity in his voice, the hope in his eyes.
You took a breath, beginning your end of the ceremony. “I vow to to love and serve you-“ the High Lord cut you off.
“Not the ones you were groomed to say. Speak from the heart, my darling.” His voice was soft, only able to be heard by you. You swallowed thickly, beginning again.
“I vow to do what I can to keep you happy, to keep you loved. I vow to care for you until the end of the universe, until you and I are little more than dust in the wind. I vow to be dutifully yours, for now and for always.” You were surprised by the truth behind the words, the way you felt you could do those things. The High Lord may be a male you hardly knew, but something inside was telling you it would all be okay. Call it naivety, it was all you had.
You felt a slight burn on your arm, looking down in time to see black swirls swim up to your elbow. You watched as the same swirls went up the High Lords connecting arm, bonding the two of you together. It was done. There was no going back now.
The High Priestess led a final prayer, completing the union. “High Lord, you may take your bride.”
Your cheeks colored at the wording, realizing what was in store for you. The High Lord seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, squeezing your hands reassuringly as he leaned close. “Nothing you don’t want.”, he whispered into your ear, “May I kiss you?” You nodded, one of his hands coming up to cup your face while the other settled on your waist. His lips pressed gently to yours, lightning flowing through your body. He was delicious. He was everything.
All too quickly he pulled away, turning you to face the court. “You shall kneel,” he commanded, a mischievous look on his face. He looked at you one last time, smiling as big as can be.
“Kneel, in front of your High Lady.”
***
High Lady. High Lady. High Lady. The title circled around your mind again and again, the stunned silence of the Court after he announced it deafening. Yet they had kneeled, all of them. They had bowed down to you.
You sipped your wine, wanting this celebration to be over. You did not know where you would go after this, but you were tired of the looks being shot your way. Judgement, anger, shock, fear. The High Lord had declared you as his equal, as deadly and dangerous as he. You turned to him, your husband, beginning; “My Lord-“ He stopped you.
“Rhysand, darling. Please.” He said, his hand laying gently over yours. You nodded, still not sure how to approach him.
“Rhysand,” you tested the name on your tongue, “how much longer must we stay?” You hoped the question didn’t come off as rude, you were just exhausted from the day.
He laughed.
“We can leave whenever you would like. Just say the word.” He squeezed your hand. You weren’t used to choice being given to you.
“May we leave now?” You bit your lip, awaiting his answer.
“As you wish.” He whispered, before dark wind enveloped the two of you.
You stumbled at the landing, looking around. Your eyes shot to Rhsyands, confusion visible in every inch of your face. He smiled, leading you to the balcony overlooking the glittering city below.
“Welcome to Velaris.”
***
He gave you your own room, leaving you alone that night. There was too much new information to decipher. Velaris. Rhysand. He wasn’t the cruel, dark thing that prowled the Hewn City. He had his real court up here, this magical place. You felt betrayed, you felt embarrassed, and you were in awe. Your mind and your heart were arguing, caught in a war between sense and emotion. How could he have such a perfect existence up here, leaving you to suffer in the Hewn City? You knew a wide majority of the citizens down there were cunning and evil, sure to destroy this place. But not all. You had met a few friends down there, a few kind souls. Not everyone who was raised in that Hell was a part of it.
You sat in front of the vanity, burying your face in your hands. Rhysand had done everything to protect the citizens of Velaris, while at the same time cursing those in the Hewn City. You knew if you had grown up here, this whole marriage would have never been. No parent in Velaris would force their child into an eternal union, certainly not one with a male all believed was evil and cruel.
You pulled your face out of your hands, looking at your reflection. You looked identical to the way you had before the ceremony, and like you had lived a thousand lives since. You sighed, beginning to remove the countless pins in your hair.
What had you done?
***
Rhysand sent for you bright and early the next day. If you were being honest, you had no interest in seeing him. Unfortunately, the obedient part of you made you go. You rose, dressing in the silky pants and top he has set out for you. Was he to dress you for all eternity?
You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you headed into the dining room, thankful to see it was just him. He gave you a cautious smile, reading your emotions all too well. “Hungry?” he asked, patting the seat next to him. You said nothing, but sat as he wished. He started piling food on your plate, decedent breads and fruits. You were the furthest thing from hungry, but in the nature of submission you began to bite at a strawberry.
Rhysand sighed from next to you, sorrow filling his face. “You do not understand the choices I have to make.” He said, his voice tired. You hummed in agreement, not yet willing to speak to him. He allowed the silence to grow, waiting for you to break it.
After a bit of terribly awkward breakfast, you stood from the table. “I am done. Thank you.”, you finally said, turning to walk from the room.
“Wait!” He called out, grabbing your wrist. “Please let me explain.” His voice was a whisper, a plea.
As hurt as you were, the soft part of your heart won. “Fine. Explain.” You said, trying to ignore the way your skin felt on fire under his touch.
“Come.” He said, pulling you behind him. He took you back to the balcony you had arrived on last night, standing proud over its city.
You wanted to cry at how peaceful it was.
Rhysand saw this, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I understand why you may be upset with me,” he began, your eyes snapping to his. “The Hewn City is a dark place. It is a place no good heart should ever be. When I saw you at the ball, I knew you didn’t belong there. I felt-“ he stopped himself, shaking his head. “Never mind. I know not all of the Hewn City is evil, though it is not easy to find those truly good in there. My cousin, Mor, you know she came from there.” You nodded, knowing well of The Morrigan. You were not yet born when she left the city, but the tales of what happened to her were used to scare young ladies into submission.
“I wish you had never suffered down there. I wish I had found you sooner.” His hand rose as of to cup your face, dropping to his side as he thought better of it. He looked at you expectantly, pleading for you to speak.
“I was not raised to care for what is fair or not,” you started, turning to look back over Velaris. “I was raised to behave, to respect everyone around me. I gave up on hoping for a better life many years ago, understanding this was the way fate had meant it.” Your hands gripped on to the balcony in front of you.
“And yet, I stand here now and overlook this paradise of yours.” You spat out, decades of anger rising. “This home you have had this whole time, knowing what it is like down there.” You turned to look at him, shame visible on his face. “What kind of a High Lord are you, then? Are you the kind and gracious one the people of Velaris believe you to be, or are you the cruel one the people of the Hewn City know you to be?” You watched your words stab into him, his eyes flaring with anger at them.
“You have no idea what I have done to keep them safe.” Rhysand said, his voice deadly.
You scoffed. “And what have you done to keep the innocents of the Hewn City safe?”
“I have rescued you! You could thank me, you should thank me!” He roared, looking like he wished to take the words back immediately.
You stood in front of him, cold and strong. “You may have taken me from there now,” you said, voice calm. “But you did not save me. I needed to be saved fifty years ago, Rhysand. Do you not see how they have broken me? How they have primed me into their perfect little servant? I was raised to be a dutiful wife. If that is what you want, I can fulfill you. Do not ask any more of me than that, for I fear I will only disappoint.” The emotion began to choke you, coming out of nowhere.
You didn’t know who you were. You had nothing, the only thing you knew was to be an obedient slave, catering to the will of everyone else.
You turned and ran, leaving your husband standing on the balcony.
***
You were embarrassed by your outburst. It has gone against everything you were taught, a lady should never argue with her husband. You couldn’t explain where the confidence to speak to him like that came from, the anger that shook your body. You stayed in your room the rest of the day, hiding away until it was late at night.
You crept out of your room once you were sure everyone was asleep, heading to your best guess of where the kitchen may be. You stilled as you hear voices the further you got down the hall, Rhysands and an unknown female. You knew it was wrong to spy on him, that he could easily catch you.
That didn’t stop you from sneaking closer to the room you heard the voices coming from.
“You know it is a dark place, Rhys. I do not understand why you are so shocked.” The female said, annoyance lacing her tone. You reached the room they were in, peering through the crack in the door. Your breath caught as you realized it was his cousin, The Morrigan. The one from all those stories. She stood strong, beautiful blonde hair cascading down her back. A power radiated from her, a sign of what she had overcome. You tore you gaze from her to observe your husband. He looked tired, a sense of sadness coming from him.
“I didn’t expect her to be so angry here. I saw her there, that night, and it clicked. I didn’t think that I wasn’t saving her,” he scoffed at his own words, “but condemning her to a life knowing she hadn’t needed to suffer. That I allowed her to suffer down there. Who else have I forsaken?” His hand rubbed over his eyes, exhausting evident.
His cousin walked closer to him, setting a hand on his arm. “It is a big adjustment,” she spoke softly, “coming from there to here. The realization that evil isn’t all the world has to offer you. She will come around. Your heart may be foolish, but not without a good cause.” She gave a soft laugh, turning to the door. You jumped, knocking into the wall. They both turned to look, not that you saw. You were already running the rest of the way to the kitchen, hoping you could whip up something quick enough they wouldn’t suspect you.
You were watching the pot boil when a sound came from being you. You whipped around, holding the ladle like a weapon in front of you.
Rhysand laughed.
You turned back to the stove, not wanting to get into it with him. You stiffened when you felt his presence at your back, his breath fanning over your neck. You were beginning to despise the way your body reacted to him.
“What are you making?” He asked, looking over your shoulder.
“Soup.” You answered, not wanting to open the way for more conversation. You felt the way he shrunk against your back, his typically cocky attitude gone. You sighed, speaking without turning to him. “Would you like some?”
You didn’t miss the way he tensed against you, a hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “Oh, no. No, you should eat up. I know you haven’t had food since breakfast.”
You hated the way you wanted to sink into his touch. You nodded, resuming your stirring. A soft silence settled between the two of you, not quite uncomfortable. You turned the stove off, reaching up to grab a bowl. Your shirt rose with you, exposing the skin Rhysands hand laid on. You pushed the feeling rising in you down, refusing to submit to its greedy need.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered suddenly, lips brushing your shoulder as he spoke. “I saw you that night, and any rational thought left me. When your father approached to yell about marriage, I latched onto it. I never took your feelings into account. I never thought how hard this may be for you. I will never force you to stay here, please know.” His grip tightened on your waist, like his body didn’t agree with his words.
“I’m sorry too.” You said after a few moments, breathing unsteady at his proximity. “I do not understand why you made the choice to keep these courts separate, yet. I am sure I will as time goes on. I would like to help get the others out, the good ones. If you would allow me.” You were about to turn to take your bowl to the table when his lips connected to the bare skin at the bottom of your neck. He was gentle in his kisses, each one placed almost lovingly.
“You are the High Lady. What you say goes.” He whispered against your skin, the hand on your waist sliding to your stomach, pressing you close to him. You gave a breathy sigh as he lightly sucked a sensitive spot on your neck, your body hot. “I can’t control myself around you.” His words were heated, the hand on your stomach drifting to play with your waistband. His other hand came up to to cup your face, turning your head towards his. “Say something.” He whispered, desperation in his tone.
You sucked in a deep breath, mind clouded with desire. “Kiss me.” you breathed out, wanting the taste of him. He wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, starting out slow. Your bowl of soup was left on the stove, forgotten as his mouth attacked yours. His tongue slid between your lips, the sensation sending fire through you. You had never been kissed, never been touched, aside from some lonely nights alone. His hand slid under your waistband, tracing the lace detailing on your underwear. You groaned, leaning into him. “Please don’t stop.” You gasped out, shocking yourself.
He smiled against your lips, his fingers sliding the fabric to the side to swipe through your wetness. “Darling girl, all for me?” Rhysand teased, a finger coming to deftly swirl your clit. You moaned loudly, the feeling so much better than anything you’ve ever done. He sucked in a sharp breath at the noise, quickening his movements ever so slightly. “I need to hear that again.” He said, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. He slid his finger down, dipping it inside of you. You arched against him, another moan falling from your lips. Rhysand pulled away from you, watching the way your eyes were fluttered closed in desire. “That’s it,” he urged, pressing kisses to your jaw. “Moan for me.” His words were unraveling you just as quick as his fingers, pushing two deep inside you. He moved his hand so his thumb could come up and swirl around your clit, orgasm building inside you. He bit down on your neck as he thrusted his fingers hard, reaching exactly where you needed him. You cried out, hand gripping onto his arm. You forgot where you were, your name, everything expect for him.
“Rhysand, please,” You moaned, him smiling against your neck as he sped up his movements. You were seconds away from finishing, moan after moan falling from your lips. With one final bite to your neck and a particularly harsh swipe across your clit, you came with a scream. His fingers rode you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were a shaking mess in his arms. He held you as you cooled down, sliding his hand out of your pants.
“Are you okay, my darling?” He asked softly, turning you to face him. You nodded, mind still hazy. He pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, leading you over to sit at the table. He brought you your slightly cooled down soup, feeding you the first bite himself. “You need to eat.” He commanded, handing you the spoon. You ate as he said, body doing whatever he wanted. Rhysand watched as you ate the whole bowl, smiling with satisfaction when you were done. “Good girl.” He cooed, his words reigniting the heat in your stomach. He helped you up, leading you to your room. He tucked you into bed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
“Rest, my love. We have much to discuss tomorrow.”
***
You dreamed of him that night. Of his kisses, his touches. You dreamed of what else that mouth could do, of what it would feel like to fully have him. You woke up hot and aroused, bones aching with need. Embarrassment rushed over you, how had he undone you so completely with just one night?
You dressed quickly, rushing out of your room before you lost your nerve. You went down to the dining room, knowing it was likely the others would be there. You couldn’t hide from them forever, you had decided. You had to make the most of the situation you found yourself in.
You entered the dining room, conversation halting at the sight of you. Five pairs of eyes looked back at you, the attention making you want to turn and run. Instead you held your head high, sitting down next to Rhysand. You cocked your head at him as you took in his amused smile, self consciously touching your face. Howling laughter broke the silence, your head whipping to see the General. “Rhys! You dirty dog!” he laughed, slamming his fist onto the table. You looked back to Rhysand, eyes questioning him.
His fingers came up to your neck, tracing the bite marks he had left last night. Oh. You had completely forgotten about them as your face flushed, tears threatening to spill with your embarrassment. Rhysand tucked his hand under your chin, pulling you to look at him. “Do not shy away, darling. Cassian here has shown up to breakfast far worse than this.” He shot a warning glance to the general, telling him to back off. You were still new to this kind of world.
Cassians laughter drifted off, turning to tease the Shadowsinger about something that had happened in training that morning. Rhysand brought his head close to yours, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Ignore him. He’s just a great big brute.” You let out a small giggle at his words, not used to anyone speaking so freely. You turned to the food in front of you, gathering what you thought may taste good. You were ravenous, the soup from last night hardly lasting.
As breakfast began to wind to a close, Rhysand turned to you. “These are my friends,” he began, gesturing to the table. “Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor.” He nodded to each as he said their name, your eyes stopping on The Morrigan. She took in your wide eyed gaze, a soft sigh falling from her lips.
“They still tell you what happened to me? Try to scare you from standing up to them?” She rolled her eyes. “Pointless, if you ask me. As you can clearly see, i’m doing better than ever.” She sent you a wicked smile, a promise of what life can be like outside the Hewn City.
With breakfast finished, the others departed to their daily tasks. Rhysand stayed with you, taking in the light color on your cheeks. “Sleep well?” he teased, a hand coming to rest on your thigh. You cleared your throat, jumping a little at the contact.
“Slept great.” You said, standing abruptly from the table. His eyes followed you, full of amusement.
“It is okay to feel desire.” He said, voice quiet. You felt like you would be eternally embarrassed here. You nodded, moving to leave the room. He caught you, turning you to him.
“Hey,” he spoke softly, hand holding the side of your face. “Do not be embarrassed. We won’t speak of it anymore if you wish.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, your body ready to melt into his touch. “Come,” he said, pulling you to the balcony. “I’m going to show you Velaris.”
***
You failed to hide your shock when your husband produced great big wings from his back. He smiled at your face, watching as you stuck out a hand to touch them. Your fingers brushed against the soft leather, a groan escaping Rhysand. He gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from his wing before picking you up in his strong arms. “Later.” He promised, shooting off into the sky.
You prepared for the fear to rush over you, but awe took instead. You threw your head back, relishing in the feeling of the wind in your hair. You laughed, Rhysands hold tightening against you. He smiled at your joy, pleased at seeing you happy. The flight took a little longer than normal, not that you knew that. He was enjoying your happiness too much, not wanting it to end quite yet.
When you touched down in Velaris, you were stunned into silence. The city was even more beautiful down here. “Rhysand,” you spoke, “it’s beautiful.” He smiled down at you, placing your arm in his elbow.
“Yes, you are.” He said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “You can call me Rhys, you know. Thats what I go by to those closest to me.” You gave him a matching smile, squeezing his arm.
“Okay, Rhys. Where to?”
***
You spent the day walking through Velaris, Rhys showing you his favorite spots. You stopped for lunch at a divine little café, a moan escaping you when you bit into the chocolate croissant. The food here was all so delicious.
After a long day of walking around, Rhys flew you back up the house on the mountain. He showed you around there too, ending the tour in his study. He watched as you made yourself comfortable on his sofa, contentment on your face.
“Are you happy here?” He asked, pulling you from the sleep that was threatening to overtake you. You sat up, turning to him.
“I can see myself being happy here, yes. I think I am happy now.” You mused, reflecting over the day you had.
His next question was softer. “Can you be happy with me?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen before.
You stood, walking over to him and sitting on his lap. “Yes, Rhys. I can be very happy with you.” You kissed him, a hand coming to rest on his neck. His arms circled your waist, holding you tight. You felt this insatiable pull to be with him, to be around him. You felt like you were almost a part of him.
You stayed like that for a while longer, kissing and talking. You stayed with him until you laid your head on his chest, sleep finally taking over. You felt safe, cared for, and protected. You felt like you belonged.
***
You were a little dismayed when you opened your eyes, finding yourself back in your bed. Alone. You pushed off the feeling, certain Rhys didn’t want to assume. You jumped out of bed, excitement taking over. You had planned to do something special for the High Lord today, as a thank you for the day he gave you yesterday. You pulled on a dress, rushing from your room.
You headed to the kitchen, hoping the house had the ingredients you needed. You were pleased when you opened the cupboard to just what you were looking for, pausing for a second to remember the magic coursing through the building. You baked all morning, perfecting the chocolate croissant from yesterday. This was what you had been raised for, to cook and please your husband. Maybe not everything you were taught was useless.
***
You bagged up the finished croissants just like they did at the café, hurrying off to find Rhys. You found him in his study, just like yesterday. “I have something for you.” You said, trying not to let the excitement spill out. He looked up, greeting you with a smile.
“And what is that?” He asked, eyes bright. You pulled the little parcel out from behind your back, setting them down in front of him. He looked at you curiously, opening the bag and inhaling the rich chocolate scent.
“The croissants we had yesterday.” You explained, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. He probably had had those a million times, a typical snack to the High Lord. His smile grew as he pulled one out, taking a bite.
“These are my favorite in Velaris.” He said, taking another bite. “Who flew you down there to get them?” He asked, distracted by the dessert in his hands.
You smiled broadly, thrilled that you pulled it off so well. You watched as he finished the first one, reaching for the second. “No one,” you said teasingly, “I made them.”
Rhysands hand stopped, croissant halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?” He asked, voice deadly serious. You were confused at his reaction, not expecting him to be so upset.
“I made them? Is that okay, I-“ You stopped as stood up abruptly, his hands digging into the desk in front of him.
“Darling,” he said, voice shaking, “have you noticed anything between us?” You looked at him in confusion, not sure what he was talking about.
“What do you mean?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of you.
“I mean, have you felt any sort of pull towards me. One that feels like an outside force is tying you to me, making you need me.” His voice was restrained, his pupils blown wide. You couldn’t help the heat rising in you at his look.
“Oh, well, yea. I thought it was just how you felt with your husband, a constant tug from my heart to yours. It began at our wedding.” Your cheeks heated under his gaze.
“Darling,” he spoke slowly, “That’s the mating bond.”
Your mind was blank.
“That’s why I was drawn to you that night at the ball. It snapped for me the second I saw your face. I took your fathers demand of marriage easily, knowing you were the one made for me. I had only known you an hour, and was already willing to do anything to be with you.” The passion in his voice had your thighs clenching together, lust beginning to overtake your body.
“I wasn’t sure if you had felt it too, waiting until you did. Then, you show up here, feeding me a dessert you made.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Do you realize what you have done?”
You stared at him in shock, understanding written on your face. You had accepted the mating bond, the bond you hadn’t even realized. Rhys walked around his desk, turning you to lean against it. “You need to tell me to stop now if you don’t want this.” He whispered against your lips, hands gripping your hips.
Your breathing was fast, but your mind had finally cleared. “I don’t want you to stop.”
His lips crashed against yours, setting a bruising pace. He picked you up, sitting you on the desk as he stepped between your legs. He groaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. “Fuck, darling,” he growled against you, kissing down your neck. “I need to taste you.”
Rhys dropped to his knees in front of you, lifting the skirts of your dress. He reached up, ripping the underwear in half as he pulled it off you. You gave a cry of protest, a cry that quickly changed to pleasure as he licked up you. “I’ll buy you new ones.” he growled against you, tongue circling your clit. He raised your legs to rest on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. You moaned as his tongue explored you, grabbing onto his hair as he worked you. “You’re delicious.” He spoke against you, tongue thrusting in and out. You moaned his name in response, begging for more. One hand came to slide his fingers into you, his lips attaching to your clit. He sucked harshly, his fingers curling inside of you. You threw your head back in a silent scream, already on the brink of release. “My perfect girl.” Rhys murmured against you, the words tipping you over. You came with a scream, thighs tightening around his head. He licked you through it, your body beginning to shake with overstimulation before he pulled away.
You grabbed his face, pulling it up to you so you could kiss him. You tasted yourself on his lips, moaning into his mouth. “I need you, Rhys.” you gasped out, hand trailing to undo his pants. His head fell to your shoulder, a groan coming from him as you slid him out. You traced your hand up and down him, amazed at his size.
“No teasing, darling. Not tonight.” He growled, biting your shoulder. He brought his face up to yours, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. “Ready?” He asked, lining himself up with you. You nodded, hand on his shoulder to brace yourself. He started pushing in, inch by brutal inch. You bit your lip, adjusting to his size.
“Rhys,” you moaned as he bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “I need you to move.” He didn’t give a second to think, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back into you. Hard. You cried out, kissing him again. “Fuck, my love.” you said, arching into him as he hit that perfect spot inside you. He brought a hand down to circle your clit again, heightening your pleasure. You knew you wouldn’t last long, not with the feel of him inside of you. Your second orgasm was approaching far too quickly, crying out as the pleasure overtook your body.
“That’s it, that’s it.” Rhys murmured, kissing you to silence the cries falling from your lips. You were shaking from the two back to back orgasms, certain you were going to rip into two. Rhys didn’t stop his fingers, bringing your pleasure up again. “I know you can take one more, darling. I want you to finish with me.” You whined against him, body exhausted. His thrusts were still hitting you deliciously, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. “So close, my darling. So close.” Rhys breathed against you, his thrusts becoming messy. His fingers worked you hard as he came, spilling deep inside you. You followed him, screaming his name as you clamped down upon him. He brought you back up to kiss him, working the two of you through your orgasms.
After what felt like an endless wave of pleasure, Rhys slowly stilled his movements. You were breathing hard against him, the room spinning around you. He slowly pulled out, resting his forehead against yours. He scooped your tired body into his arms, carrying you across the hall to his room. You were tucked into the bed, Rhys sidled up next to you. You fell asleep against his chest, feeling whole for the first time in your life.
***
You were awoken by a loud banging at the door early the next morning, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Rhys groaned from next to you, grumbling as he slid out of bed and pulled his pants on. He opened the door to reveal Cassian, a smirk on his face. “As happy as I am for the two of you, am I subjected to listening to you fuck for the next week?” He asked, eyes roving over your body. Rhys took note of his gaze, grabbing onto the neck of his friend.
“Look at her like that again, and you have to listen to me fuck her for the next year.” He growled, shoving his friend out of the room. You heard Cassians laughter as he walked down the hallway, Rhys coming back to you. He crawled on top of you, kissing you slowly.
“Shall we give him a show?”
***
Thank you for your patience on this!!!! It diverted from a true “forced marriage” trope, so I will probably use that again for a different character. I really like how this one turned out though!!
As always, please give me all your feedback. I appreciate you all SOOO MUCH <3
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dawndelion-winery · 1 year
Text
Apricity
[The warmth of the sun in winter] - their favourite person and solace
Ft. Childe, Dottore, Scaramouche
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Childe:
He think about how lovely you are every time he looks at you
The way any lighting is flattering on you in his eyes
It's like you've consumed his every waking thought
And he wants you to take full responsibility for it
It's why he can't resist touching you in some way or another, craving the contact to remind him that you really were just right there with him
He's giddy at your warmth, dizzy at the thought of holding you and being yours
Ajax has always thought you look loveliest surrounded by the glittering snow in his homeland, an undulating white as far as the eye could see, like a blank canvas that held only your splendour. He adored how even in the freezing cold, you seemed to glow - his personal warming seelie, as he had dubbed you affectionately. His feet lead him to you before he even realises it, and his arms move of their own accord as they wrap around you, pulling you into a loose embrace.
"As far as my ventures may take me, it would seem my path will only ever lead straight to you."
Dottore:
It's no exaggeration to call you the only warmth in his life
The doctor himself had always been a cold person
Yet there he was, all warm inside at the me thought of you
He loved noticing you in his peripheral vision as he worked, content with the knowledge that you were close
It's nice, he finds, to have someone listening intently to him voicing his thoughts even if he didn't need a response
That someone being you specifically because god forbid anyone else irk him with their presence
"Perhaps an actual human liver might work better here..." Zandik muses to himself.
"You really think so?" you chirped, admiring his thoughtful expression. How intently he analysed each component, disassemblimg and reassembling them, his pretty face scowling as he only grew more dissatisfied with each variation.
"Dearest, get over here," he instructed, setting his materials down. He pulled you into a tight embrace and tucked your head under his chin. When you tapped his arm to tell him you could barely breathe from how much he was squeezing you he told you to bear with it and suffocate for a bit until he felt better.
Scaramouche:
He'd never expected to be so successful in starting a new life after erasing his own existence
He's almost afraid to let you know the true extent of his devotion to you lest he jinx it and it all comes crumbling down again
But he can't hide the softness in his gaze whenever he sees you
Nor can he conceal the longing in his smile when you're so near, just close enough to touch
You can feel his eyes on you, intent in their observation. There's a melancholy in his stare, though not nearly as much as there is affection. His love is silent, like wordlessly draping a blanket over your shoulders as the night falls and taking a seat beside you.
He doesn't think he'll ever tire of you. As he lays his head on your shoulder, his eyelids begin to feel heavier. And as they flutter shut, his petty need to have the last word arises as always.
"Tell me that we're fine...and that you'll still be mine even if I lost my mind..." And then silence, his porcelain face still and tranquil - the only indicator of him not being a statue was that he'd occasionally shimmy closer to you.
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Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @missesclaus @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @astrequa @kokomist @lemonswriting @eowinthetraveller @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @ash-astrophel @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof
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thehufflepuffavenger1 · 7 months
Text
The Fan (Dando x reader)
Not proofread read at your own risk.
Fluffy fluffy fluff
Hope you enjoy!
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In the heart of Monza, the Italian Grand Prix buzzed with excitement. The McLaren F1 team, led by their star drivers Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo, was having a meet-and-greet session with fans. Among them was a devoted fan, you, eagerly waiting to meet your racing idols.
As the line slowly moved forward, you clutched a custom-made McLaren cap and a poster, hoping for a chance to exchange a few words with Lando and Daniel. Finally, it was your turn. Lando, with his signature bright smile, greeted you first.
"Hey there! Thanks for coming out, really appreciate the support. What's your name?" You introduced yourself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Lando signed your cap and the poster, engaging in a quick conversation about the thrilling race weekend.Meanwhile, Daniel, with his infectious grin, joined in.
"G'day! How are you enjoying the race so far?" You shared your enthusiasm for the event, and Daniel, always up for a good time, cracked a joke, lightening the atmosphere. He signed your merchandise and engaged in a playful banter with Lando.
Suddenly, an announcement rang through the venue, signaling the end of the session. Disappointed that the interaction was coming to a close, you gathered your signed memorabilia. But Lando noticed your disappointment.
"Hey, before you go, would you like a quick photo?"With a nod, you posed between Lando and Daniel, the McLaren drivers wrapping their arms around you for the picture. The camera clicked, freezing the moment in time.
As you thanked them, Lando and Daniel exchanged a knowing glance. "Thanks for your support, really means a lot," Daniel said warmly."We'll catch you around," Lando added with a wink, the duo turning back to greet the next fan in line.
Walking away from the encounter, you couldn't stop smiling, reliving the brief but unforgettable interaction. The thrill of meeting your racing idols lingered, making the Grand Prix experience even more memorable. The passion and warmth of the McLaren drivers had made your day - a tale to share and cherish.
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The vibrant Monza paddock buzzed with the post-meet-and-greet energy. Lando and Daniel, walking back to their motorhome, couldn't help but gush about their interaction with you, the fan who had left an indelible mark on them.
"Lando, mate, wasn't she just the loveliest fan we've met?" Daniel grinned, recalling the genuine enthusiasm in your eyes.
"She was, wasn't she? So sweet and passionate about the sport," Lando replied, his signature smile widening. "And did you see how excited she was to be here?"
"Yeah, and she was genuinely interested in what we had to say. It's refreshing," Daniel chimed in. The duo continued chatting about your enthusiasm, your smile, and the brief moments they shared with you. Both drivers found themselves drawn to your genuine appreciation for the sport and your warmth. "Imagine if all our fans were like her," Daniel mused, a touch of longing in his voice.Lando nodded.
"Yeah, it'd make these meet-and-greets even more fun." Later, during a casual chat with fellow drivers, Lando and Daniel couldn't help but bring up their encounter with you.
"Lads, we met this incredible fan today at the session," Daniel began, excitement evident in his voice.
"She was genuinely interested in our chat, so passionate about racing." Lando jumped in, "She made us feel like we were chatting with an old friend. It was awesome."The other drivers chuckled, but they couldn't miss the genuine admiration and a hint of fondness in the McLaren drivers' voices when speaking about you.
As the day wound down and the excitement of the race weekend continued, Lando and Daniel found themselves occasionally mentioning you in their conversations. There was something special about the way you had left an impression on them, a spark of genuine connection amidst the whirlwind of race events.
Unbeknownst to you, in the midst of their busy schedules, Lando and Daniel found themselves secretly hoping for another encounter with the remarkable fan whose infectious enthusiasm had left a lasting impact on them.
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Amidst the bustling paddock, you found yourself navigating the maze of team motorhomes and trailers. Eager to catch a glimpse of the drivers' activities, you took a wrong turn and ended up in an area you hadn't explored before. Unbeknownst to you, this path led you right into a space where the Red Bull, Ferrari, and Mercedes team motorhomes were adjacent to the McLaren setup.
As you wandered, engrossed in the sights, you turned a corner and suddenly collided with someone.
"Oops, sorry!" you exclaimed, steadying yourself after the accidental collision. Surprise flashed across your face as you realized the person you'd bumped into was none other than Lando Norris. Beside him stood Daniel Ricciardo, and to your shock, the Red Bull, Ferrari, and Mercedes drivers were gathered close by, engaged in a discussion. Lando and Daniel, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected encounter, quickly recovered, their cheeks flushing slightly upon seeing you.
"Hey, it's you! What are you doing here?" Lando asked with a mixture of surprise and delight. The other drivers, catching the commotion, turned their attention to the unfolding scene. Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, and the others exchanged amused glances, realizing the McLaren drivers' evident surprise and blushes upon seeing you again.
"Ah, the mystery fan!" Max exclaimed with a grin, recognizing you from their earlier conversation.Charles chimed in,
"Seems like our McLaren friends have found someone special here." While Lando and Daniel tried to maintain composure, their subtle blushes betrayed their emotions.
"Yeah, we, uh, just got lost," Daniel chuckled, attempting to ease the moment. Amid the laughter and friendly banter among the drivers, you found yourself at the center of attention, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the unexpected reunion.The McLaren drivers, in the midst of the light-hearted teasing, couldn't help but steal glances at you, their earlier fondness for you now amplified by this unexpected encounter.As the moment passed and the drivers resumed their conversations, Lando and Daniel exchanged a quick, bashful glance, their hearts racing a bit faster at the serendipitous meeting.
The memory of this accidental reunion lingered, leaving a subtle but sweet sensation in the air - a moment that would be remembered by all, adding a touch of unexpected joy to an already thrilling race week.
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The day after the unexpected encounter in the paddock, you received an unexpected message from Lando and Daniel. The McLaren drivers had extended an invitation to join them for dinner at Lando's place, wanting to continue the conversation and share more stories about racing and their experiences.
Excited and flattered, you arrived at Lando's place, greeted warmly by the two drivers. The evening kicked off with stories, banter, and laughter. As the night progressed, the teasing between the McLaren drivers and their subtle hints about their feelings for you were interlaced with jokes and playful banter.
"So, have you found your way around without getting lost today?" Daniel teased with a grin, recalling your accidental encounter the day before.
Lando chimed in, "Yeah, we were worried you might end up in the Ferrari garage this time!" Amid the playful banter, both drivers kept dropping subtle hints about their interest, but you, immersed in the joy of the evening and their racing anecdotes, remained oblivious to their hints.
"It's really cool hanging out with you guys," you commented, sipping on the drink Lando had offered.
"Yeah, it's always fun when you're around," Lando replied, a shy smile playing on his lips.
Daniel added, "We've been talking about how passionate you are about the races. It's contagious, in a good way." The night rolled on with more stories, laughter, and moments that only strengthened the connection between you and the McLaren drivers. They couldn't help but steal glances at you, trying to convey their feelings through subtle hints and playful banter, hoping you'd catch on.
As the dinner wrapped up and you bid farewell, a sense of warmth lingered in the air. The McLaren drivers exchanged knowing glances, hoping that their subtle hints might eventually resonate and that you'd realize there might be more than just admiration for the sport in their interactions with you. As you left, the McLaren drivers couldn't help but wonder if their feelings might someday find a way to be expressed more explicitly, hoping for another chance to connect with you beyond the racetrack banter.
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The night seemed to stretch its arms, and as you bid the McLaren drivers goodbye and stepped outside, you realized a predicament - your car was out of fuel. Frustration gnawed at you, but before you could ponder a solution, Lando and Daniel hurried after you, concerned.
"Hey, what's up? Car trouble?" Lando asked, his concern evident.
"Yeah, I'm out of fuel, and it's late to find a gas station now," you replied, feeling a mix of embarrassment and inconvenience.
Daniel grinned. "No worries. Stay here for the night. We've got a spare room, and we'll figure out the car in the morning."
Gratefully accepting their offer, you found yourself in Lando's spare room. The McLaren drivers, with their ever-friendly demeanor, insisted you borrow some of their clothes for the night, assuring you that the morning would bring a solution to your car situation. In their oversized shirts and sweatpants, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the subtle scent of their cologne adding a touch of their presence around you. The night passed with moments of reflection and a strange sense of being at ease in their clothes, almost as if you'd found a peculiar sense of belonging.
The next morning, the aroma of breakfast wafted through the house. As you emerged from the spare room, you found Lando and Daniel in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and preparing a feast.
"Morning! We thought we'd make you a big breakfast before sorting out your car," Lando beamed, a hint of pride in his voice.
"You didn't have to," you replied, touched by their hospitality.
"We wanted to. Plus, it's our way of saying thanks for making last night more fun," Daniel added, a smile lighting up his face. As you sat down for breakfast, the morning sun streaming through the windows, the warmth of the McLaren drivers' gestures and their thoughtfulness seeped in. You couldn't help but feel a growing fondness for the duo, their kindness and genuine care leaving a mark on you.
Amidst the laughter and the shared meal, the McLaren drivers exchanged glances, silently reveling in seeing you comfortable in their clothes and enjoying the breakfast they prepared. They found themselves drawn to the sight of you in their attire, sharing a fleeting yet intimate moment of domesticity. As the morning unfolded, the bond between you and the McLaren drivers deepened, the unspoken connections growing stronger with each passing moment.
The memory of the unexpected night and the shared morning would linger as a beautiful and unexpected chapter in your interaction with Lando and Daniel.
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intoloopin · 4 months
Text
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♡‒♡‒♡ LOOPiN'S ROMANCE HISTORY: A SHORT OVERVIEW
[!!!] Possible tws for a brief mention/implication of past physical and psychological abuse (Haruki, J.J and Haegon sections, respectively), as well as the implication of an uncomfortable age gap (Haruki again.)
HERE IS WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOORA: @hshtag!
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♡‒♡‒♡ TAESONG'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ Taesong has compensated for years of extreme failure in all departments of life by scoring the most comprehensible, prettiest woman in all of Seoul - Yunhee, obviously -, and it only took him 1 major breakdown after a bad vocal class at her uncle's shop in 2022 to do it. Ever since then, they have slowly gone steady; Yunhee's organized and lively personality is just what he needs to ease his ways.
➷ Honestly? That's the girl he's going to marry, and there's no doubt on Taesong's mind about it. Maybe he'll even do it soon. Like very, very soon, and- oh my God, Taesong, stop going to the Cartier website and starring at wedding rings for 40 minutes, man, this is embarrasing.
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♡‒♡‒♡ MINWOO'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ Ever since Minwoo decided to turn his heart into a synthesizer at the tender age of fourteen, he's been the subject affection of almost no one - if you exclude his former neighbor that basically gave him his trainee dream and he once promise to write music for until their dying days, but she's definely never coming to bite him in the ass, unless uh-oh, she totally is. And she's with Haegon now. Cool.
➷ Not like he cares, because again, Minwoo's never been in love with her. In fact: he's never been in love with anyone, not back then, and not now. He's not in love now. Who even cares that every time he tries to write songs these days they all end up being about a fake blonde guy with long hair, too much money and the loveliest set of brown eyes there ever were, but whatever! That doesn't mean anything! It's not even that descriptive - in fact, he's never met anyone like that ever, and fuck you Dylan if you think otherwise.
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♡‒♡‒♡ SEUNGSOO'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ By far the LOOPiN member getting the most action, their resident lover boy if you will, Seungsoo rarely does serious relationships: he likes unlabeled things and having the capability to be a little bit in love with everyone without having to explain himself further about it. He's a feeler, not a thinker, and love is his muse! It brings the best out of him! It just sucks it took him three strikes at trying to communicate successfully to get it right (Never mention The Great Delilah Fiasco. He will cry.)
➷ He's been lucky enough to find Gayoung along the way, who lives very much like him, only smarter, and went on to completely change Seungsoo's perspective of what love can really look like. He's even become besties with her other primary partner, Junyeol! And everything is finally so great and feels so right for once! It would be a shame if he fucked it up for idiotic reasons or something...
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♡‒♡‒♡ HARUKI'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ After the years of deep intimacy damage caused by his past manager's sick grip over Haruki's guts were cut short by Sangwon's resignation (and eventual death), he took little venture back into the dating pool, strumbling instead into unbalanced, set for fail situantionships with his co-workers in all the fields he's set in - bandmate? Check (Sorry about all that, Hanjae...); Model he does constant gigs with? Partial check (Sejin is 34 and the lead singer of a comedy band. He has bigger fish to fry and Haruki is so over him, just so over him, really!); Ex-boyfriend of his former Boy Of The Week friend that Haruki was coursed into running over that may or may not still be in love with Kohei while using him to cope with the fact that he's been horribly dumped? He's about to get there, do that, don't you dare try to stop him (Daewon is, after all, very nice. And what's that thing about third times being special?) ➷ To conclude, Haruki has absolutely no idea what a functional relationship should look like - or if he even deserves to experience one to begin with. So let him have his momentary 'fun'. He's learning. And he's certainly going do better someday. Hopefully.
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♡‒♡‒♡ DYLAN'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ Dylan's nothing but a simple guy with simple guy experiences. He met a lovely girl in school as a teen, Sasha, and they went on to live a sweet and calm friends to lovers romance. Then he made up his mind about turning into a K-Pop Idol, he passed a trainee audition, and it was over (he and Sasha were very nature about it. He still follows her on Instagram in his private account. She has a whole baby now, goddamn, where did time go?)
➷ Looking back at it, the teenage affair seems a life time away now... And since then? Nothing. Chihoon has never even been to date in South Korea, and it's not by lack of options: Dylan is secretly very popular among female Idols, some might go as far as say he has a bit of a hot bachelor reputation, so why...? Don't ask him, really. He has no clue what's going on. Everything just feels so pointless lately, and romance isn't an exception.
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♡‒♡‒♡ GYUJIN'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ To the possible surprise of the masses, Gyujin hasn't ever been romantically involved with a single person in his life. He's more of a flirt-with-all, run-from-all kind of guy, and at this point, he doesn't even know why; he's doing great! Why the heck is he so scared of holding hands or going beyond first base and all that crap?!
➷ If only he tried his luck with someone who showed unquestionable love and devotion to him from the get go, or that wasn't spooked by his career, like a fansite or... Wait.
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♡‒♡‒♡ O.Z'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ To his and his bandmate's outmost surprise, secluded, very anti romance Zhiming managed to not only find a perfect collab artist that's fully on board with his experimental music, but also a girlfriend that seems to understand him inside and out in Nico. What started as a project with an online singer going by the stage name of 'nicebnico' in late 2022 has now bloomed into an online romance, then an in person romance that's inspired him to not only keep pursuing an even weirder sound as his heart desires, but also to keep himself open to taking risks and opening up to a new world of people - how can he not when Nicola is the biggest risk taker extrovert woman that ever walked the earth. Turns out, the opposites attract myth is the real deal. ➷ With Nico finally deciding to reveal her hidden identity in 2024, they plan to be more open with the public about their relationship as well - consequences be dammed! Zhiming is a man in love and he'll shout it from the roof (quietly) if he has to!
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♡‒♡‒♡ HANJAE'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ With two epic fail romances on his back at such a young age - a tip: don't agree to date your childhood best friend's girlfriend a day before they've actually broken up, and for the love of God, don't mess around with your bandmate that clearly is in no mental state to even consider your very real feelings -, Hanjae seems to have finally gotten it right with Yoora!
➷ At first turning to his very good friend with a fake dating scheme to hopefully help end some of Haruki's overwhelming guilty for how bad their whole deal was, Hanjae, being Hanjae, catched feelings - and for the first time ever, it didn't explode all over his face. Yoora reminds him that love is all about who you want to spend your piece and quiet with, and for as long he'll be able, he wants to never make her feel anything but safe.
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♡‒♡‒♡ J.J'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ Despite claiming to be "too busy for anyone" because he is "a professional" with "real goals of stardom" and "impossible standards", which are all to some degree true, what kept Jiahang stuck in a loveless limbo thought all of 2023 was the very weird parasitic relationship Dongwook pushed him into - A Secret Third Thing taken up to the max, and he wasn't even into it! Not to mention he wasn't even the only one! Poor Jiyeon has it even worse!
➷ In theory, he's free now, and he can be a guy in his early twenties and not let some psycho from the biggest boy group in the world control his every move. But like... Why bother trying? It's not like he's got much to work with, being famous and all, not to mention kind of rotten to the core (self-observation). And he has Minwoo anyway, which- Uh. What a weird little thought...
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♡‒♡‒♡ HAEGON'S ROMANTIC HISTORY
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➷ As the saying goes: you had Haegon's heart once, you might as well have it forever. No, he's not proud about it; nothing about his never ending saga with Sunyoung makes him feel anything but frustrated, and pathetic (He got cheated on with Minwoo, out of all people, as well as with DJ that lives in a goddamn trailer. How does a person deal with that?!). Except for when he feels completely in love with her, of course, which is often in correlation to the times he doesn't have her around. Weird how that goes.
➷ But he is very happy to announce that in December of 2023 he said his last goodbye to Sunyoung, and he is for real this time. Haegon is very fucking serious. This is not like breakup 3, or break up 7, or break up 11. This is the end, and he is absolutely ready for something new. And speaking of new, didn't Haruki's sister just start training at New Wave some months back, and she's a 01 liner too and so nice, so pretty, hold on just a minute-
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diorkyeom · 8 months
Text
‘✷’ : CHAPTER SEVEN “the seokmin version”
<< prev chapter | ao3 fic | next chapter >>
chapter word count: 5.7k+
chapter warnings: none
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summary: "lately, seokmin had come to a realisation. joshua hong, seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma." - in which seokmin has known joshua for years, but he's always been a bit of a mystery to him. and as the days go by, he finds himself falling further and further for the enigmatic man, wanting to find out who the real Joshua Hong is behind his polite smiles and warm eyes and sweet words.
notes: every time i post a new chapter it ends up being my new favourite
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"I'm leaving right away today," Seokmin declared to the literature office the moment he stepped inside after finishing his last class. "No staying late to do marking for me."
"Good for you," Yuna said drily. "Go away, then. I have fifteen students who handed in work late. And I need to mark it by tomorrow."
Hayoung groaned. "You and me both. But I actually only have three kids, so I'll probably be out in another hour or so."
Minjun stormed into the office at that moment, carrying a stack of papers and huffing. He slammed his papers down on his desk with a loud thump, drawing the attention of all the other teachers. 
Yuna blinked, eyes widening at the black, inky mess. "Minjun, is that—"
"The printer," Minjun said, "is broken. Really badly. And the IT department have already fucking left. I'm gonna have to stay behind to fix it, because apparently no one else on this floor is competent enough to do it, and you're all gonna help me."
There was a beat. 
"Well, I guess that's my cue to leave," Seokmin chirped, and then beamed brightly, grabbing his bag and backing out of the door. "See you guys tomorrow!"
"Lee Seokmin, you come back here!" Yuna screeched, but the door was already swinging shut, and Seokmin skipped down the hallway with a laugh, on his way to find Joshua. 
It had been a few days since their late-night discussion under the streetlamp, and things were still pretty much normal between them. 
Seokmin still grinned and chattered and occasionally stumbled over his words, and Joshua still nodded and listened and watched Seokmin with that soft, soft gaze, adding in his own teasing remarks and letting Seokmin ramble as much as he wanted. 
Joshua was still the Seokmin version of himself, the version he put on when he and Seokmin bumped into each other at school, or when Seokmin popped over to their house to say hi to Jeonghan, or simply whenever they were in public, in broad daylight. It really must have been hard for him to switch it off, Seokmin mused, but he was okay with that. 
Joshua was understandable now. He was still rippling and changing and effervescent, but Seokmin could identify what all the different colours were. 
Seokmin thought briefly that maybe Joshua would never cease to be an enigma. That he’d always be confusing and elusive and endlessly pretty, all at once. 
It didn't really seem like a bad thing. 
He hummed to himself as he walked down the Music corridor, before poking his head into the classroom that Joshua was working in. His eyes widened, and he quietened his steps as he took in the scene before him. 
Joshua was sitting at the piano in the corner of the room, a student sitting on the chair beside him, and he was going over chords and playing around with melodies for her. His voice was calm, carrying gently through the empty room as he played a few chords, spreading them out and explaining his process. 
"—really, really lovely," he was saying. "Honestly, diminished seventh chords work really well, but maybe you might want to try some ninths? Something that sounds sweet and dramatic, and the arpeggios would work really well for that."
He demonstrated, improvising a melody on top of the accompaniment, and the loveliest, most delicate sound floated through the air, all pale warmth and swirling leisurely through the room, before making its way to Seokmin at the doorway.
Joshua continued to thoughtfully glide his way across the keys, eyes following the movements of his fingers, the music singing under his touch, glass-smooth and pretty and golden, and Seokmin’s eyes were wide as the melody slowly trailed away, resting still and calm under Joshua’s fingertips.
“Something like that?” Joshua suggested to the student next to him, all casual, as if Seokmin’s heart hadn’t started hammering rapidly in his chest from the display of such gorgeous sounds.
The student nodded eagerly, listening intently as Joshua began to explain the overall idea of a piece that she should aim to achieve, and that was when Seokmin decided that maybe he should wait outside of the classroom until he was finished.
Once he was out in the empty corridor, he put a hand to his forehead, sighing. 
That was weird. Seokmin didn’t normally start feeling dizzy whenever he listened to Seungkwan practise his musical theatre songs, nor did his heart start racing when Soonyoung showed him the new song he’d made Jihoon compose for him. It was just music, after all. Just his friends belting out notes, sometimes nonsensically, oftentimes obnoxiously. It wasn’t anything special.
But Seokmin thought about Joshua’s eyelashes fluttering as he traced watercolour patterns across the keys, the gentle, pensive expression on his face as the shimmering softness unfolded before the silent room, the way his own heart was still beating abnormally loud in his ears simply at the memory of Joshua playing the piano.
He closed his eyes, fingers finding the strap of his shoulder bag, grasping it tight. 
That hadn’t just been music. It had been something far too beautiful for words.
“Seokmin?”
Seokmin’s eyes flew open, and he turned to see Joshua leaving the classroom behind the student, who shouldered her bag and turned back round to give a last quick wave to the music teacher.
“Thanks so much, Mr. Hong! I’ll see you next week!”
Joshua smiled, returning her wave. “See you, Yerin.”
And then the girl was off, speeding out of the Music department, and Joshua turned back to Seokmin, the endeared fondness of his expression changing into something sweeter, fluffier, softer. It made Seokmin smile, in spite of himself, because that smile? That was Joshua’s ‘Seokmin Smile’.
“Shua hyung,” Seokmin greeted, shouldering his bag and pushing up his glasses in one motion, missing the way that Joshua’s eyes brightened at the greeting. “I heard you talking with that girl a few moments ago.”
Joshua hummed, popping back into his classroom for a moment to grab his bag and his coat, before promptly reemerging and walking beside Seokmin down the corridor. “Yerin’s normally very good with her compositions. She just has trouble getting the ideas in her head down onto paper, but once she cracks that, she’ll do really well.”
Seokmin grinned, nudging Joshua with his elbow. “She’ll do even better now that she has you, I just know it. You’re really good, hyung.”
“Aw, thank you,” Joshua said with a chuckle. He pushed open the doors to the Music department, letting Seokmin leave first. “I should hope so, though. I’ve been playing music for several years now. It would be a bit worrying if I wasn’t.”
“You know that wasn’t what I meant,” Seokmin insisted, half-whining, before smiling as Joshua looked up at him, eyes twinkling. “You should play something for us at some point, Shua hyung. Maybe at the next Game Night. It’d be fun!”
Joshua tilted his head, and they finally stepped through the school’s front doors, entering the cool late afternoon air. The slight breeze ruffled Joshua’s hair as he adjusted his coat in his arms, gaze sliding away from Seokmin’s and out into the distance. “You want me to play for all of you?”
Seokmin thought about it for a moment. “Maybe just for me?” he suggested. “If you’re uncomfortable with showing everyone.”
For some reason, his words made Joshua’s posture stiffen before easing a millisecond later, shoulders relaxing as he continued to look forwards, before finally his eyes found their way back to Seokmin’s. 
He smiled, irises sparkling in the faint sunlight. “Maybe.”
And then he shook his head, so his hair was no longer in his eyes, bumping against Seokmin lightly with his shoulder.
“I haven’t seen you all day, though. Tell me about your day?”
Seokmin immediately brightened, leaping at the chance to ramble to his Shua hyung, launching into a full, exhaustive run-down of what had happened to him throughout the seven hours in which he’d been at work.
Joshua had gone back into full gentlemanly polite mode again, wearing his pretty, courteous colours once more, all soft cotton candy and not-quite within Seokmin’s grasp. It really did seem to be his daytime default, to infuse one of his personalities into him at all times, but Seokmin could see how they genuinely were always just Joshua too.
He cherished these moments, where it was just the two of them, walking to work or back from work or just randomly bumping into each other at night. It felt special, when no one else was around, when Jeonghan’s rippling gaze was no longer fixed on them, when Soonyoung wasn’t creating the latest distraction just within their line of sight. It was just them.
Just Joshua and Seokmin.
And Seokmin especially cherished those random night visits, where they suddenly spotted each other walking on opposite sides of the road, or where they wordlessly decided to come back to that one bench beside the river that Seokmin had first seen Joshua on his nightly walks. There was something more precious about them, more delicate, vulnerable.
Joshua was more himself, then. He smiled more easily, talked more easily, asked Seokmin questions but also answered them too, straight-on with no elusive dancing around. He was, all in all, much more comfortable when it was just them, and it was something that Seokmin felt almost honoured to witness. 
With every nightly meetup, Joshua seemed to relax even more, and for reasons unknown to Seokmin, it made him feel all happy and fluttery inside whenever Joshua’s eyes softened into gold and the cotton facade all but melted away.
───────────── ‘✷,
“I get what you mean,” Seokmin said thoughtfully, pushing up his glasses as he frowned down at his own book, “but I think saying that Achilles was dealing with ‘the everyday gay traumas’ isn’t going to sit well with the examiners.”
The students laughed, and Seokmin smiled, blinking wide-eyed at them.
“Don't get me wrong, I agree wholeheartedly. If you can somehow manage to fit that analysis in with the themes in the Iliad, I'll personally bake you a cake."
There was a clamouring of noise, the students excited by the idea of being able to get sugar. 
"Mr. Lee!" one boy called out. "Isn't 'love' one of the themes in the poem? Wouldn’t it be really easy, then?"
Seokmin paused, looked down at his book, and then looked up at them again. "I'll bake you a cake if it makes sense within the context of the essay question," he amended, and then waved his hand. "Okay, okay, shh! Please discuss the passage we just read with your partners. Please don't make me talk about baking cakes. I'm not very good at it."
"Oh, come on, Mr. Lee! That can't be true!"
“My sister once set the oven on fire while baking a cake!”
“Can I bake a cake for you instead, Mr. Lee?”
"Mr. Lee! What's your favourite cake flavour?"
"Please just finish this task," Seokmin begged, half jokingly, tapping his pencil against his copy of the Iliad. "If I talk about cake, I'm gonna want to have some when I leave work."
"Why is that a bad thing, sir?"
A phone alarm went off, and Seokmin looked over at his desk, turning off the alarm, before looking back at the students and snapping his book shut. “Oh, dear, looks like that’s the end of my book study session. You guys have to go home now, without finishing the incredibly riveting extract analysis task I prepared for you.”
There were varying degrees of cheers throughout the room, and Seokmin smiled and shook his head.
“I am, however, going to be setting it as a mini task for you to complete for next week’s session, okay? Because we were meant to do it today, but we had no time.” And then he waved his hand at them, gesturing for them to quickly leave. “Now shoo. Go home and rest. I’ll see you all later.”
There were choruses of “goodbye”s and “thank you”s as the students left, and Seokmin watched them go with a slight fondness on his face. 
Hayoung had asked if he’d be willing to start a book study session for the literature students who were in their last year of high school, and of course, Seokmin had been more than eager to say yes. It was a session that included a mixture of his, Hayoung’s and Minjun’s students, since they were the teachers with classes for the older years, and Seokmin had taught all of these students at least once during their time at school. Of course he was going to say yes to giving them study sessions so they could do their best in their upcoming exams.
What could he say? He had a soft spot for memories.
Once the last student had exited the room, Seokmin gave a soft sigh, pushing up his glasses and sat down at his desk, checking his phone, and then tilting his head at the text that flashed up on his screen.
[ jihoon hyung !! ]
your demo sounds incredible by the way
it’s been finalised and everything and the other producer really likes it too
you could seriously have a career in singing if you wanted, seokmin.
Seokmin shook his head, scrunching his nose to prevent his glasses from sliding down. He sent a quick “i’m glad it’s been approved!!” back to Jihoon, but just smiled at the last message, setting down his phone and standing up once again, pushing up his glasses with a finger. Maybe he needed new glasses. These ones weren’t sitting properly.
He hummed to himself as he began to tidy away the room, adjusting chairs and tucking back the curtains, the melody of Jihoon’s new song finding its way inside his head.
‘To You’, the song was called, and Seokmin was certain that it was one of Jihoon’s most heart-wrenchingly beautiful songs to date. Shining, warm, hopeful and romantic, and also utterly wonderful to sing aloud.
The room was entirely empty, and Seokmin’s voice steadily grew louder as he sang along to the melody inside his head, spraying the whiteboard with a cleaning spray and then wiping it down.
In this swirling day
You’ve given me a small piece of happiness
You’ve given me all the smiles of the world in my hands
So even if I run out of breath on a steep road
Even when I lost my path on a cold day
We’re still holding hands with warmth
Seokmin paused then, the main melody echoing around in his brain as he gripped the cleaning spray dramatically as if it were his mic, and belted out the ad-libs and countermelodies, pouring his heart out into the harmonies that, in the safety of the empty classroom, no one would hear but him.
To you, to you
The story I wanted to express
To you, to you
I want to say more things like this
Oh-oh, in this swirling wind on this day
If an eternal love exists
Then that is what you are.
Slowly, dramatically, still basking in the heartfelt afterglow of Jihoon’s incredible new song, Seokmin lowered the cleaning spray and lowered his head, scrunching his nose so that his glasses didn’t slip off. 
It was a beautiful song, about loving someone who was understanding, gentle, caring, even when they didn’t say a word. About being loved in the most precious way.
“Seokmin?”
Seokmin flinched sharply at the sudden voice, so suddenly that he squeezed the spray too hard and sprayed himself in the knee. “Oh, shit!”
He whipped around, looking around the classroom to see who had come in and hoping against all hope that they hadn’t heard him singing, only to see—
“Shua hyung?”
Joshua was leaning against the wall at the back of the classroom, smiling. He stepped away from the wall when Seokmin turned around, and his eyes were glowing with something so, so gentle as he walked through the tables to get to where he was standing. “Hello.”
“Um.” Seokmin stood there, awkward, attempting to smile and give a wave. “Hi? How long have you been standing there?”
“Sorry, I came in halfway through,” Joshua said, chuckling a little. “I came here to, you know, walk home with you. And I didn’t want to interrupt your singing session, so I was just kind of standing at the back by the door, waiting for you to finish.”
Seokmin looked down at his hands and then hastily set everything back on the desk, wiping his knee. “Oh. I see.”
“Wait, let me help you with that,” Joshua said, noticing the wet patch and immediately grabbing a few tissues, before kneeling down in front of Seokmin to press the tissues against the spot. “Sorry, I guess I startled you a lot, huh?”
“No, it’s fine, I’m just a scaredy cat. Plus, when I sing I sound really, uh, weird.” Seokmin swallowed, his earlier surprise at Joshua’s sudden appearance now beginning to wear off. But as Joshua looked up at him, eyes caramel gentle in the light of the afternoon, he wondered vaguely why his heart was still beating so fast. 
Joshua rose to his feet so he was eye level with Seokmin. “You sounded so pretty,” he said, and he said it so sweetly and so honestly that Seokmin found himself blinking rapidly, cheeks heating up almost instantly. “The song sounded so nice. You have such a beautiful voice, Seokmin.”
There was a definite blush on Seokmin’s face now, the embarrassing kind of blush that went from his ears right down his neck, and also rendered him absolutely incoherent. Joshua was still smiling at him too, damnit, and it made it all the more difficult for him to focus on scrabbling a few syllables together to give a response.
“It’s not mine,” he blurted out, a little too loudly, and Joshua blinked in surprise.
“Not… yours?” Joshua’s brow creased in confusion.
“The song,” Seokmin elaborated, and then scrambled for his phone to unlock it and bring up an audio file. “It’s Jihoon hyung’s. He’s made a new song, and he asked me to record the demo for it.”
Joshua’s eyes widened at that, amazed. “You’re the person that Jihoon asked to sing in his demo? Do you know how incredible that is, Seokmin?”
Seokmin shrugged, bashful. “Not that incredible? It’s just a demo, anyway. Hyung offered to pay me, but I said it’s okay.”
Joshua shook his head. “That’s still amazing. Jihoon never lets people look at his things until they’re finalised.” He looked down at the audio file on Seokmin’s phone, the cover-less ‘To You’ file staring up at him. And then he looked at Seokmin with a small smile. “Could I… listen to it?”
Seokmin stared at Joshua for a long, long moment. Joshua smiled back, and it occurred to Seokmin that the elder was smiling more and more these days, his face becoming more relaxed, his eyes more willing to curve into their pretty little crescents at the things that Seokmin said.
And then he decided, oh, what the hell. If his Shua hyung wanted to listen to it, then Seokmin would let him listen to it.
So he sat down on the floor and beckoned Joshua to sit next to him, and then pressed play.
It was the first recording that he’d done, running straight through after practicing the melody a few times with Jihoon, and his pitch was off in some places and he came in late in others, but Joshua listened intently, eyes fixed on a random spot on the floor as Seokmin’s voice rang out through the speakers of his phone. Seokmin wanted to cringe, wanted to turn off the audio and wrench his phone away because it was embarrassing, especially when it was Joshua listening, but every so often the elder would lift his eyes up to look at him, and his eyes would be so wide and awed that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but stare right back.
The recording finally finished, and Joshua sat back, pressing his lips together. Seokmin watched him, anxiously, finding that he really was nervous of what Joshua’s opinion was.
“Pretty,” Joshua said simply, and then his face softened even further as he smiled. “It all sounds so pretty.”
Seokmin blushed again, looking away, pleased. “Really?”
“Yeah! I really love how your voice sounds, and I think this type of song suits it really well,” Joshua said, and Seokmin’s heart swelled with something warm and pink and happy. “I love the song, too. I want to learn the chords so I can play it.”
“Jihoon hyung will be happy to hear that you love his song,” Seokmin said, beaming. “You can ask him for the finalised audio once he manages to get the boy group to record it, if you want. I’m sure he’ll be willing to give it to you.”
Joshua just hummed, tilting his head. “I don't know. I think I like the Seokmin version better.”
“The Seokmin version?” Seokmin repeated, biting his lips to prevent himself from smiling too widely. It sounded… nice, when Joshua said it like that. Like Seokmin’s recording had meaning.
“The Seokmin version,” Joshua confirmed. He nudged Seokmin with his elbow. “Hey, maybe this can be the piece that I play for you one day. Maybe you can sing with me too. How about that?”
Seokmin couldn’t help it. He beamed, the giddy happiness evident all over hstopped biting his lips and beamed, and the giddy happiness was evident all over his face but he couldn’t help it, knew nothing would be able to prevent him from grinning widely, oddly thrilled at the idea of having some sort of singing duet with Joshua.
“I think I’d like that a lot.”
───────────── ‘✷,
“I don’t think I like that. At all,” Seokmin sulked, and Soonyoung sighed.
“Seokmin, you made this demo. Demo. It’s an example piece that’s gonna be heard by loads of people! It’s literally what it’s designed to do. Be heard.” Soonyoung stabbed a finger on the table, and then pointed at Jihoon’s laptop. “Your voice is gonna be heard by so many people, and you’re not gonna know most of them. But that’s what’s meant to happen.”
Seokmin shuddered, displeased, and Jihoon tapped his fingers against his laptop. “I don’t think you’re helping the situation, Soonyoung.”
“But he needs to know!” Soonyoung protested as Jihoon just shook his head. 
“Seokmin,” Jihoon started, “You’re willing to let Soonyoung hear it, yes?”
Currently, Jihoon, Soonyoung and Seokmin were sitting at the dining table in the latter two’s apartment, and Jihoon was playing the demo for them all to hear, Soonyoung was talking incredibly loudly and Seokmin was sulking.
He crossed his arms, pouted, and avoided their gaze. “I guess,” Seokmin muttered dejectedly. “Didn’t know that so many other people would hear it too.”
“Seokmin, it’s meant to be heard—”
“We’ll only let the relevant people hear it, obviously,” Jihoon said, talking over Soonyoung. “So that’ll be me, the other producers, Soonyoung, and the idols. Is that okay?”
“Also any other choreographers they bring in—”
“Is that okay?” Jihoon repeated, pointedly ignoring Soonyoung, making the choreographer huff petulantly. The other kept his eyes on Seokmin, however, calm and patient. “We won’t do anything that you’re not comfortable with. We won’t show it to anyone, if you don’t want to.”
“Actually, we kind of have to, ‘cause that’s what a demo is for,” Soonyoung said, before Jihoon shot a glare in his direction and he widened his eyes innocently. “What? I’m right!”
Seokmin shook his head, putting his elbows on the table and squishing his cheek against his palm. “I suppose that it’s true,” he said. “I just… I’m still not sure if I was all that good.”
Soonyoung smiled sympathetically. “You have really bad self-esteem issues, Seokmin. Your voice is so, so incredible.”
Instantly, Seokmin’s brain conjured up a memory of Joshua’s earnest smile and that gentle, melodic voice saying “You have such a beautiful voice” all golden and lovely and he blushed, rapidly dispelling the thoughts before they showed on his face.
“But other than the people at the company, we won’t show anyone else,” Jihoon promised, giving Seokmin a small, reassuring smile. “In fact, you don’t have to show anyone else either. No one in our friendship group even has to know.”
“Okay,” Seokmin said, and then smiled a little. It was touching, how sincere Jihoon was being about all of this. And then his eyes widened. “Wait, but if I do tell someone, like, right now, is that okay?”
Jihoon blinked, and then frowned. “Um, technically no, but if it’s someone in our group then we can tell them not to talk about it anywhere.” 
“Why do you ask?” Soonyoung added. “Did you show it to someone?”
Seokmin took his elbows off the table, nodding. “Just Shua hyung. He heard me singing, so I showed the recording to him.”
Soonyoung blinked. “Shua hyung?”
“Joshua hyung,” Seokmin said helpfully. “It’s a nickname for him.”
“No, I got that part. It’s just…” Soonyoung trailed off, and he and Jihoon shared a significant look, one that Seokmin couldn’t decipher. “Anyways, that’s okay. Just tell him not to tell anyone else, you know?”
“Moving on, though,” Jihoon said, swiftly changing the subject, a slight twinkle in his irises, “I have another track I’m making right now, Seokmin, and I was wondering…”
“Oh, hell no. One is enough for me. Get Seungkwan to do it!”
───────────── ‘✷,
Seokmin flopped down onto the sofa, breathing out contentedly as he wriggled around amongst the mess of cushions until he was more comfortable.
“Ah, this is so nice.”
“I’m so glad to see you making yourself at home on my sofa,” Jeonghan remarked drily, coming into the room carrying a plate of biscuits. “Also, move over or I’m not giving you any cookies.”
“Cookies!” Immediately, Seokmin shot upright again, zeroing in on the plate as Jeonghan set it on the coffee table, grabbing one and stuffing it into his mouth. Around the mouthful of crumbs, he said, “Thanks, Jeonghan hyung!”
Jeonghan just laughed, selecting his own biscuit and curling up on the sofa. “Of course, Seokmin. I love feeding my cookie-loving gremlin every time he decides to barge into my house and steal all my snacks.” Before Seokmin had a chance to protest at the description, he shoved another biscuit into the teacher’s hands. “Anyways, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Just ‘cause,” Seokmin said brightly. “Also Soonyoung hyung’s at the studio, and being at home by myself is so boring.”
“I’m being your surrogate roommate, hm?” Jeonghan teased. “Well, you’re in luck, because my housemate has disappeared too. Joshuji’s at church, so it’s just only lonely me, all by myself.”
“Not anymore, though!” Seokmin chirped, and then threw himself into Jeonghan’s personal space, cuddling up against his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jeonghan hyung! Seokminnie is here!”
Jeonghan laughed and let Seokmin squish himself into his side. “Lucky me.”
There was a short silence then, as Seokmin squashed himself as close to Jeonghan as possible, and Jeonghan focused on nibbling his way through his biscuit. It was a lazy day, a calm day, but Seokmin’s thoughts were running, racing through conversation threads even as Jeonghan seemed content to just sit in silence for hours until Seokmin decided to go home.
But Seokmin couldn’t go home without at least trying to talk Jeonghan’s ear off.
“I’m gonna set my seniors an essay on the Iliad next week,” he said suddenly, his brain latching onto any old thought thread it could find and running with it.
Jeonghan laughed. “Your students are going to love you for that.”
“They will!” Seokmin insisted, pulling away from Jeonghan’s side to sit up properly. “It’s on the theme of ‘love’. They’re all obsessed with that theme in this book. Which is weird,” he added thoughtfully, “because I thought that they’d be more interested in the war and the anger and the moral struggles in it.”
Jeonghan shrugged, leaning back and gesturing dramatically with his half-eaten cookie. “What is love if not the biggest moral struggle of all?”
Seokmin laughed, flopping back down so his head was resting on the armrest, nestled amongst the cushions once more. “You’re right, though. Especially with Aphrodite being the main cause of the Trojan War. She’s basically the reason behind all their problems.”
“Really?” Jeonghan said. “And I thought the goddess of love was meant to be kind.”
“Kind?” Seokmin repeated. “She’s horrible. Unpredictable. Definitely an inconvenience, and mostly a nuisance.” He paused, and then continued, “But that’s what love is, I guess. You can’t pin down love. Sometimes it’s beautiful, and other times it’s painful, almost heart-wrenchingly so, and you can never be prepared for it.”
Jeonghan watched Seokmin talk, an almost parental fondness colouring his gaze, like a mother watching her child explain something they were incredibly passionate about.
“Love is often confusing, too,” Seokmin said. He wasn’t looking at Jeonghan anymore, directing most of his thoughtful musings to the ceiling, hands waving around. “And can be confused. With desire, lust, anger, hatred. There’s a very fine line, you know?” He lifted his head up to look at Jeonghan. “Maybe that’s why love and war are such prominent themes in the poem.”
Jeonghan just smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah! Loving brings a desire for safety, for comfort, and sometimes, people can be so desperately in love that they’ll do anything to have that comfort,” Seokmin said. “And other times—well, most of the time—people are willing to be soft for that love. They turn soft, craving that gentleness and reflecting it in the way they act around the person they most want to be loved by. And if that person disappears… well, then you harden your heart, and find you don’t want to love anyone ever again.” Seokmin clasped his hands together. “That’s what Achilles does, by the way.”
“Wow. That’s so fascinating,” Jeonghan said, nibbling at his cookie again. “Tell me more.”
And Seokmin did. It was nice, to analyse aloud, but also to analyse aloud with Jeonghan. The elder didn’t provide much to the conversation, simply sitting there and smiling and asking Seokmin to tell him more, but it was nice. 
It made his thoughts drift to Joshua, just momentarily. Thinking of how Joshua would have listened to him talk. Of how Joshua’s eyes would have followed his every move, how he would have smiled and hummed interestedly and let Seokmin talk, and talk, and talk, and talk.
An hour later, Seokmin was still talking, and as Jeonghan continued to blink unmovingly at him, he wondered whether the elder had managed to fall asleep with his eyes open.
“—so I think it’s only logical that Seungcheol hyung is Zeus,” Seokmin finished. “Jupiter. He’s a scary, scary guy, but also everyone loves him and knows about him ‘cause he’s so huge.”
Then Jeonghan’s head turned. “Okay, are you talking about the god or the planet here?” he asked. Definitely not sleeping, then, Seokmin concluded, pleased. That meant his entire rant about which god each of their friends were hadn’t gone unheard.
“Both,” Seokmin said cheerfully. “Seungcheol hyung is both the planet Jupiter and the god!”
Jeonghan chuckled, leaning back. “If you say so.” He pursed his lips, thinking, and then tapped Seokmin on the knee. “You’re the sun god for sure, though.”
“Who, me?” Seokmin tilted his head, and then beamed. “Aw, thanks hyung. Also, did you know that Apollo is the only god of the classic pantheon to have the same name in both Greek and Roman mythology?”
Jeonghan smiled. “I don’t know what that means. I do know, however,” he added, “that you’re as bright and lovely as the sun, and fill up the entire room with light the moment you walk inside. Everyone gravitates towards you, attracted by your energy, and people always love being with you.”
Seokmin blinked, not expecting such a sudden onslaught of compliments from Jeonghan. “Really? You really think so?”
“Of course.” Jeonghan’s smile turned a little knowing, a little devious, eyes glittering like ripple waves on a lake. “And you know what you said about love before? I think the Sun would want a gentle love. Where someone softens themselves in the Sun’s presence.”
Seokmin hummed contemplatively, sitting up. “A gentle love? Who’d love the Sun like that, though?”
“A Venus,” Jeonghan said, smiling wider. “I think the Sun would be best loved by a Venus.”
That made Seokmin pause, frowning thoughtfully, before a slow smile spread across his face. “I like your thinking, hyung! I guess you really were listening to me while I was talking, huh? I’m impressed.”
Jeonghan pointedly ignored the jab, and simply shrugged. “The Sun would love Venus very much, too,” he said. “And the Venus would love you as easily as breathing. Because Venus is basically the god of love, right? They’d love you a lot.”
Seokmin blinked once, and then twice, before his eyes widened. “Wait, are you still talking about me? I thought you were doing general analysis!”
“I’m talking about anything you want me to talk about,” Jeonghan returned, adjusting himself on the sofa. His ass was starting to hurt from sitting in the same position for too long. “But I think the Sun would dote on the Venus and think they’re incredible, and the Venus would love the Sun immensely and devastatingly gently.” 
Seokmin’s face was contemplative for a moment, thinking over Jeonghan’s words. Jeonghan could almost see him trying to figure out what was going on, what Jeonghan meant, where all this was going. Eventually, though, he seemed to give up, his gaze becoming unfocused and the corners of his lips turning wistful as he wondered.
Jeonghan wondered who Seokmin was thinking about.
“Do you really think so?” Seokmin asked, turning to Jeonghan, and his eyes were wide, voice hushed, like he couldn’t even believe it.
At that moment, the front door opened, and there were a few moments of rustling sounds before Joshua peered into the living room, back home from visiting the church, and Jeonghan watched as Joshua’s eyes softened almost instantly and Seokmin’s entire being lit up as they made eye contact, and he smiled to himself.
“Yeah,” he said, but no one was listening to him anymore. Joshua and Seokmin were already in their own world, as Seokmin leapt from the sofa to bound over and ask the elder about his day. Jeonghan just smiled even wider. “I do think so.”
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taglist (send ask to be added): @fairyhaos @atinycupofpositivitea @my-moarmy-heart @weird-life-of-a-closet-fangirl @lilsafsafbooyah @stqrrgirle @bittersweet-folder @weird-bookworm @ultrara-re @tianakings @bangantokchy @tiinkerbell @ahuiahoe @leigh-darling
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Text
History (Damian Wayne x Scarlet Witch Reader)
A/N: This is still part of my Movie Night series but it’s just a lil blurb I though of. This also might be the shortest thing I’ve written on here and the fluffiest. I was feeling really uncreative with the title but honestly I’m just glad I was able to write something and I only hope you guys enjoy it! Please do let me know if you do, don’t be shy! And so here you go and I hope you have the loveliest of days! <3 
Details: In a nutshell, the first time Damian tells you he loves you ^^
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Words: 800
The first time Damian Wayne met the Titans, it wasn’t under the best or most willing circumstances.  
“I don’t need to be in a team. I work perfectly fine on my own,” he complained.
“That’s the problem,” Dick simpered as he drove them to the tower.
“Being competent as an individual is a problem now?”
“No one said anything about your competency, Damian. We know you can handle yourself, Bruce would never let you be Robin if that weren’t the case but you can’t take on everything by yourself. Eventually you’ll need some help.”
“And these teenagers are supposed to provide that?” he spat.
“Okay, one,” he side-eyed him, he was getting quite tired of his attitude, “they’re around the same age as you and two, you’re a teen who dresses up as a traffic light who helps a grown man who dresses up as a bat to fight crime.”
“... You’re the one who picked out the colors,” he grumbled.
“And I looked great when wearing them.” 
Damian tutted and crossed his arms. “Whatever. Teammates are a liability. They’ll just get in the way.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “Look, just try to keep an open mind to this. Who knows, maybe you’ll actually make a friend there.”
“Unlikely,” he muttered indignantly.
He remembers the exact moment he first laid eyes on (Y/N). He was being greeted by the other half of the Titans when he saw her and Beast Boy fly from the rooftop to the ground to greet him. 
He was very interested by the red energy radiating from her hands, he had never seen anything like that before. From the unsteadiness of her landing he was able to tell she was still getting accustomed to her abilities. Somehow, despite the wobbliness of it he still found her graceful. Upon finally locking eyes she gave him a friendly smile but he simply looked away. 
Never would he have imagined how important these people would become to him. Nor the bonds he would create with them or how fervently and unequivocally in love he’d become with (Y/N) (L/N).
To his credit, he came to the realization a lot quicker compared to how long it took him to recognize his feelings for her in the first place. It happened at night when they were getting ready to sleep after a particularly tedious mission. 
It wasn’t unusual for the pair to sleep over the other’s room, in fact their sleepovers had only become more frequent since they’ve kissed, and on this night it was Damian who came into (Y/N)’s room. They were all cozied up in bed, (Y/N)’s back against Damian’s chest while his arm was wrapped securely around her waist. He breathed in the soft scent of her shampoo and contentedly sighed as he watched her play with his outstretched hand. 
“Your hands are so pretty,” she mused.
“I much prefer yours,” he lightly chuckled at her random remark. “Mine are far too rough.” 
“I like rough,” she said in a suave tone as she traced the veins on his hands. “And I like you. A lot.”
“I like you more,” he kissed the back of her head and snuggled her tighter. “So much more, beloved.”  
She couldn’t see but Damian couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t a night unlike any other but this was his favorite night time ritual. (Y/N) in his arms, safe, content, and relaxed. She meant everything to him and normally this would scare him but with her he felt safe. And so he knew. And he wanted her to know too.
“(Y/N),” he started and she turned her head to look at him, “I need to tell you something.”
“I suspected so, my head has become too heavy and caused your arm to fall asleep,” she sat up to rearrange herself but he sat up with her and halted her movements.
“No, it’s not that at all.” 
“Oh. Then what is it you need to tell me?”
Damian gazed into her inquisitive eyes and gently cupped her cheek before leaning in and kissing her. It was soft yet it became more ardent as he laid her down and peppered her neck, temple, and cheeks with kisses.
“I… love… you..” he whispered in between kisses. 
“What?” she asked hazily. 
“I love you,” he repeated more clearly before kissing her again. “You don’t have to say it back just because-”
“But I do too, love you I mean,” she smiled as she caressed his cheek. “I love you Damian.”
Damian's lips curled into a lovesick grin upon hearing those sweet words escape her lips. Her hand slipped behind his neck, ushering him to kiss her again and he happily obliged.
Taglist: @trashmouthsahra​
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fallinfl0wers · 2 years
Note
hello!! happy 100 to you ♡ can i request leo writing a letter to confess his feelings to his crush ? female-reader if thats okay! thank you <33
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hello!! sorry this is incredibly late HAHA, here u go~
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fandom: ensemble stars character: leo tsukinaga reader type: female reader (she/her) summary: leo has something he wants you to know... genre: fluff notes: none
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Y/N!!!
Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!!!!!
I've been looking for you! But you weren't anywhere no matter where I went, so you're mean! A big, biiiiiiiiiiig meanie! See, these days my mind has been overflowing with inspiration! I've never had all this inspiration flowing so freely and wildly from my brain! I can picture thousands and thousands of masterpieces filled with bright and happy colors, enchanting melodies bubbling and popping here and there and there and everywhere every time every day!! And, you know what's funny? Even through all those ideas, notes and melodies, I can pinpoint exactly where all this inspiration is coming from.
It's you.
You're my biggest inspiration, the one who makes my heart feel all fuzzy and warm and soft, the one who makes me think up all those sweet, upbeat and lovely melodies.
If I were to admit it, then I'd say you're my muse.
Yup, mhm, that's the word I wanted- Muse. My muse, my inspiration!
If I think of you, I think of happiness! I think of the prettiest, loveliest, cutest, smartest, coolest, adorable...st? woman in the world! You're so amazing, so, so, so, so amazing I can't help but feel inspired by you!
So, I asked Sena about this and, you know what he said?! He rolled his eyes at me and just said "You dumb Leo-kun, that just means you're in love with her and, just so you know, we all already knew, it's old news to us~" can you believe it?! Because I can't! I mean, I do love you, I love you a whoooooooole lot! More than anyone else! But I only realized this lately, so how could they know before I did, hm? Sena was just being rude to me, so once you see him, please scold him for me!
That being said, though... do you love me too? A little bit? A big lot? Tell me, tell me, tell meeee!
Ah, if possible please tell me in person because I want to hug you if you say yes! I just wrote this and left it here because I couldn't find you at all... :(
I'll be hanging around Seisoukan today all day, so please come find me!
I love you a lot, my muse, a real, real, real lot!
Leo
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2022. fallinfl0wers.
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noblehcart · 6 months
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Guess who's baack? Its me with a new take on things and tired of running my blog the way I was. SO FIRSTLY, thank you all so much to those who commented and liked my hiatus post 💕💕 I felt so terribly horrifically alone, scared and felt like I was just spiraling into i don't know what and all of the lovely comments and likes on that post helped me immeasurably so thank you all.
I want to give an especially big shout out to @myhiraeth, @leadtohell & @lordofthestrix for reaching out even further to make sure i was okay even after that post because I was just in a seriously bad place and because these lovely people were continually checking in on me. These three I consider my closest friends and phenomenal writers so please go check out their blogs and hit up the muns because they're truly some of the loveliest nicest people on the site.
As for this blog there will be some shifting, deleting and change ups. I will be closing ranks a bit more, especially around to those that did reach out in some manner of way to check on me. Something I realized over this time is that I write best with friends and friends who write back with me. I get not everyone has time to write and be on tumblr, that is not what i mean by writing, I mean simply conversing with me. As I've said before I don't need you to actually thread with me just...talk with me. Plot with me. Tell me about your day. Talk with me about whatever crossed your mind. I write best with friends I trust and who trust me. It does not mean communication has to be on the daily, its whatever generalized communication we set it up as or whenever something pops into mind, but that's how I write and that's how I write best. Me being on this site is getting increasingly difficult and so I am trying my damnedest to stay on, but I can only do so in the company of friends. Friends who check in on each other and write with each other and think of each other and their muses. That's the environment I want to cultivate during my time on here.
I still have an insane IRL going on that is intensely private so that means my time is also hectic, but I am the kind of friend who will try to check in on you and think of you and your muses if you are close to me. However that interest will diminish and drop the less and less I see invested into me as well. I am no longer the sit and wait friend, I am the 'im as invested in you as you are in me' and therefore whatever writing experience you want to cultivate with me requires involvement. I may lose 'friends' or followers and that is fine. I completely understand, but this shift of life that I'm experiencing has brought me to this point of exhaustion of always being the friend who stays and waits. If you want to come write with me then please come write with me and if not that is entirely fine.
But I want my writing partners to be my friends and for the large part most of you ARE my friends because that is what truly develops the best plots, writing and fun and why I love being here with you all.
TO DO LIST:
delete majority of drafts (i need a fresh start with the upcoming year)
unfollow people ( a lot of inactive or people who i dont write with)
revamp old characters (luka mikhailov; i'm tired of letting him sit in the wings)
remove muses (Inej Gh.afa, gleb vag.anov, Dr. Henry Mo.rgan, Chri.stine Chapel , Christi.ne Da.ae , Farazeneh Shir-Del, Gabby Christ.ensen, Ana Mcclain, Paul Chauv.elin, Cassian, Gwyn Ber.dara, J.ason Todd, Nest.a Arc.heron, Ela.in Arche.ron )
add new muses (iris winnow, etienne ainsworth, esme lennox)
create new sideblogs for specific muses (Inej ghafa, gleb vaganov, the ivanovs?)
new mumu blog to be decided?
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anto-pops · 1 year
Note
hey, i don't want to overwhelm you, but do you think there would be another part for the end of the line series in the future that deals with the course of the first pregnancy?
everything is fluffy and smutty.
sebastian is the very best husband ever and wants to take care of everything while his wife just sits there making her baby and just looking irresistibly sexy doing it.
he is so incredibly sweet and holds her hair when she throws up. the weeks of nausea are terrible and it hurts his body and soul to see her like this, but of course, as always, he manages to make everything better and more bearable.
he always pays a lot of attention to her belly and kisses every inch of it. he keeps stroking it, snuggles up to it and tells his unborn child everything and nothing. he teams up with it against his wife, who just has to giggle about it.
and don't forget bedtime. he turns his dramatic and super hot love story with his wife into a child-friendly fairy tale.
when she gets into her insatiable phase, seb is right there and satisfies her in every imaginable way, just as she needs it. be it his hands, his tongue or his big cock. she is so much more sensitive than usual and already falls apart at his appearance and the look he gives her. god she needs him. it's best if he never stops pounding into her.
and if she feels like a fat and ugly whale for even a second, he's there to wipe that bold statement out of her mouth. just the fact that she's carrying HIS child turns him on. damn it. if you think all the boners before their relationship were a torture you cut yourself. the sight of her and her growing belly makes him so hard that not even several cold showers would help. luckily he doesn't have to hold back anything anymore.
he takes care of it and in her future pregnancies so she doesn't give it a second thought about how she looks.
(maybe that could be used for another fic if it doesn't fit here) but seb will definitely not stop talking about the pregnancy at work and subliminally bragging about it. he's so damn proud and soo in love with his family.
and yes, leander (or whoever he hates working at the auror office right now), he and his wife are fucking each other and now the loveliest baby is on the way! remember it!
and seb often goes for walks with her as long as she feels good enough for it. everyone should know that HIS wife carries HIS child. she's HIS and he's HERS!!!!!
and when his wife wants to take revenge for everything he does for her and fails to surprise him, seb is also there to make everything better. he is everything to her and she can't stop crying. those stupid hormones. she finally wanted to do something for him and then he does something for her again. but she doesn't need to worry. a shared bath makes everything good again. seb is happy when you are happy.
and when it's time and the baby comes, seb will go a bit crazy and maybe or maybe not he'll smack his buddy garreth. all the orgasms must have helped, right? or? everything will be fine. she will be fine and his baby is healthy and beautiful. omg it's coming he has to keep his nerve. luckily uncle ominis aka the mother of the group is there. he always struggled with those two idiots when they just danced for their feelings. then childbirth will also be easy peasy!
(that was a very long text and i hope it wasn't too much for you. these are all just ideas. if you're considering writing something like this, you can just use it and tinker with how the muse is kissing you in this moments.
i just wanted to get my thoughts out there and you always write everything so damn beautifully. i love you and your writing. and please take your time to think about it if you would like to write about it.)
♥︎♥︎♥︎
I’ve been sitting on this for a few days because I wanted to comb through it and absolutely try to incorporate some of this into End of the Line !! I’m still playing around with how I’ll start it but you actually gave me a couple ideas with this so HELL YEAH, THANK YOU MY DEAR !! 💞
I’m half considering writing it in a timeline sequence but we’ll see 🤷🏻‍♀️
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writteninscarlet · 5 months
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💅  to  paint  my  muse's  nails. ;; @inhcritance
gestures of affection ;; accepting
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“It’s not as though it’s law for me to wear red, or only red,” she remarked, amusement in her tone. Red suited her, of course. She’d found a style she liked and she would stick with it. But she had no intention of only wearing one colour the rest of her life. “I think the green is nice, too. It just, I don’t know, stood out to me. It’s nice.”
It was just fun to mix and match now and then. With a grin, she shifted (carefully) whilst keeping her hand still as he painted her nails. He was doing rather well, and Wanda had no complaints. This was FUN. It was comfortable. It was just the two of them, just doing something nice. “What about you? I have the loveliest scarlet colour that would complement you nicely.”
She was only half joking. No need for only her to feel the pamper and love. This was just time the two of them had to themselves. Her smile was warm and relaxed, and it was amusing in a way how happy and comfortable she was in his presence. It was nice to simply be Wanda Maximoff, to not have to hide or try to be anyone else.
“Thanks~ You’ve got really steady hands,” she remarked sincerely, quite pleased. Already the green was coming up beautiful. Quite the stand out colour. “I figure we can spend the evening in. If you’d like. It’s not as if we get many evenings together, I know. But today was long,” she admitted - long, tiring, and sore. But injuries from the fight were already nearly all gone thanks to a hex or two. Just some minor injuries. “Order in maybe? Or I can cook something? Once my perfect nails are all set~”
It was a shame, maybe, not to be doing something really exciting. But considering how public their jobs were, it was also nice to have time where it was simply the two of them together.
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paragonrising · 11 months
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Goose's Promo Parade begins shortly, Exquisite Beans.
But I’m going to take a moment to appreciate a few people who have made my experience on this blog wonderful ❤︎
@stxrlxrds
AAAAAAAAA I’m so glad you followed me back ;w; do you know I had a little mini panicfest when I was originally about to follow? I was petrified you wouldn’t want to interact. All your muses are fantastic, but I won’t lie, Quill has a special place in my heart with how he set off every alarm and claimed that was his plan all along.
You are a fantastic bean, and I know good things are coming your way~
@benevolentgodloki
When I saw your username, I couldn’t believe you were the same Loki I admired for years when I wrote Steve Rogers. XD I never had the nerve then to approach, and I am super thankful with Carol I was a tad braver. Your Loki is spot on, and you are the sweetest of beans.
@definitelynotaraccoon
Y’know I never knew how Carol would interact with Rocket, I never read the comics. So I had no idea what to expect other than big guns and sarcasm XD. Approaching you and your muse was incredibly easy and our thread is so much fun. I was and still am ecstatic that you’ve returned to the rpc.
You capture Rocket perfectly, and I can’t wait for our muses to have more adventures. C:
@labwebs
Carol will protect Peter 1 to the end of her days, fact. He is the sweetest, and gave her his Disney+ account to binge (which she 100% does, and probably shares it with the Guardians on movie night, let’s not lie).
Peter 3 is a fun companion to have on a spaceship, especially when he jumped up on the ceiling and Carol just sort of… stared.
You’re an amazing person to talk to, and I really enjoy reading your headcanons and thoughts that pop up on dash. Your writing is top notch and your characterisation on both muses is wonderful.
@girlofsteel
Loveliest bean, you’re sweet, kind, and patient. I adore your writing and your rendition, Kara is mwuah *chef’s kiss* Actually all your muses are perfecto, but Kara is this wonderful ray of sunshine that Carol can’t get enough of.
Also Carol has a crush, but can you blame her?  
@normaltothemax
MOON GOONS. They’re all precious. Does Carol have a favourite? Yes. Is it Jake? Also Yes. Will she ever tell him that? Maybe.
All your characters are fascinating and well written, even though I don’t interact with them, I do lurk and read <3 You’re an amazing human being, and a lot of fun to talk to and plot with.
@recklesshybrid
You came out swinging my friend, with your kindness and excitement. :D I was honestly surprised when you sent me a message so quickly after we followed one another. You’re lovely and your enthusiasm is a blessing &lt;3
Your Quill is wonderful, fun, and well written. I look forward to the adventures that our muses will go on >:3 perhaps after he finds a way to get…you know… unarrested. XD
Also, you should know that Quill is never getting his jacket back, it belongs to Carol now. >w>
@rcdlcdger
Lovely bean, did you know I have not once spelt your url correctly on the first try? xD Honestly, it took me three times just now. You are super sweet and kind, never change! You’re perfect, and I’m so thankful we get to write together and chat. :3 I hope soon when our schedules line up we can add gaming to the list.
You write a number of muses, but Nat is my favourite. I adore the sass she gives to Carol, and though Carol complains, she loves Nat and her attitude as well. Captain Adorable will always be there for her spy. 
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ramcharantitties · 2 years
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laila
@adikavy ye le
based on this post, pov for all the pics one by one :) (nsfw from pic 2)
ram x reader (first person pov of ram)
pic 1
“Your bangles are beautiful” he mused in an English accent, pathetic hands grazing her wrists. Round glasses, pointed chin, lean body, and two wires in name of moustache- he doesn’t even look good. She would reject her in a glimpse yet here was my loveliest wife- laughing with an unknown man. Well he wasn’t unknown, he was the editor of the new thesis she was writing. Javed. He has been visiting us a lot, her alot. Annoying. I knew the chai in my tumbler was getting cold but how did he have the audacity to talk to someone so smart, so beautiful and elegant. Her walk resembled a peacock and the way she carried and dressed herself, only people of high standards like her could. It’s only a magic that she chose me. And here was this wooden stick of a man, trying to bag her. The sticks I use to beat people are browner and thicker than him. I wonder if he was too blind to see the red on her forehead, the gold in her neck. So shamelessly touching her saree as if it was him who she pestered to choose the colour. Hell, did he even read the name of the woman he is editing thesis of? Y/n Ramraju. And guess who Ramraju is? Her dear, dear husband, me. Her type of man. Y/n’s eyes flickered over here, recognizing me. Her face lit up, calling for me. Now he’ll know. I gulped the rest of the chai and made my way over to them, engulfing y/n in a side hug, holding her waist. Javed looked uncomfortable. Good. “I told you about my husband, right?” y/n said, patting my chest. Javed peered up at me, fixing his specs. I offered my hand for him to shake, instead he jumped back. Better. He quickly gave y/n some notes and scurried away, stuttering to see her soon. “Javed kitne acche hai na” y/n said with a smile and looked up at me. I could only raise an eyebrow to that. 
pic 2
“Ram, bas” her hands tapped at my still clothed chest, running out of breath. “Kyu, javed ab accha nahi lagta?” I asked her, thrusting in her one more time. She let out a moan, tears running freely down her cheeks. The more she cries when I fuck her, the better i feel. The more I push her through the edge. “Please, bas aur nahi” she said, clutching my hand. “I can’t feel you anymore” oh? I pulled out of her and threw her on the bed, she yelped and sighed, her thighs shivering. I don’t even remember how many times she has come now. I pulled her close to the edge of bed, kneeling on the floor. What started as mere teasing has now become a punishment for y/n. We were back in our room and she was going for another bath when I pulled at her saree pallu, earning a gasp from her. The pallu slid off her shoulder and she grabbed the rest of it to hide something. “Yehi pallu pakda tha na usne?” I knew my tone was malicious. Before she could even finish taking my name, I pulled her close and she fell forward- as I tackled her on the bed. Now here we were, my nose and knuckles deep in her core as the only name she could take was mine. Her husband’s. “Dopahar hai, koi sun lega” “Koi aa jaayega” all the complains died when I got to work, showing her place. As y/n hit her orgasm, I deepened myself in her core, not letting her rest. She thrashed around the bed, yelling at me to stop. All her pleas died on my hearing- her scent, taste, the only thing that mattered to me right now. She came again, going lax on the bed now. Y/n shivered, the sight only for me. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up, finding her trying to catch her breath. I pulled her on her pillow, laying a blanket and turning the fan on. I kissed her asleep figure, closing the door. 
pic 3
“Ji, Y/n Ji kahan hai?” Javed came back when I was strolling near our house. I smiled at him, throwing an arm around his single frame. “So rahi hai”, I said with a little too much pride in my voice. “So rahi hai? Unko mujhe naye edition ki-``''ab toh” I stopped his rambling mid sentence “kal aana” I said with a smile. “But why is she asleep?” he asked, turning to me “is she okay?” I smiled at the memory, fixing my moustache “oh she is more than ok, just tired” I nodded at Javed, who just won’t get it. “But why? Is the load from the thesis too much” okay. Now his scrawny voice was giving me a headache- his obsession with my wife was even more annoying. I tried keeping my temper down, in the end I was left with nothing but a sarcastic smile. He looked scared. “Y/n, my wife, just had a mind blowing orgasm that her husband gave her” i said in a tone low enough for only him to hear. Javed visibly gulped, nodding his head and scuttering away. 
tagging: @aasthuu @thewinchestergirl1208 @tinysmallworlld @shreyalokesh @rambheemisgoated @budugu @kashti15 @saanjh-sakhi @chaanv @chaotic-moonlight @bromance-minus-the-b
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brooklynislandgirl · 5 months
Note
♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚!!!!!
Pumpkin. My sweetest, kindest, and gentlest friend. You were a blessing to me when we were introduced. I found in you someone I absolutely love, and in the following years you have become actual family, in the best ways possible. Like a sibling I wish I had instead of the ones I got through accident of birth. You introduced me to a fascinating gentleman, and through writing you've given me one of my great literary loves. How do you even say thank you for that? Likewise you've always shared your personal writing, and I've eaten up each word with a spoon, living my best cat in a sunbeam life. We write the loveliest, most moving love story of the ages, and every post is a letter of admiration and friendship from one muse to the other. A bond between muns. And that extends to real life, as well. You know I'd stab my way through a million ~insert bad words here~ just to make your day a little easier. All 8s and infinities <3
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{{and same-same goes for our Sand Gremlin}}
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teaandatale · 2 years
Text
Steggy Week 2022 – Day 2 (Monday): Favourite Era
A FIC PREVIEW of "This Tune of You"
But we have to start with the link above as this is a bit of a mash-up of both Day (1) Inspired By and Day (2) Favorite Era, where this was inspired by a lovely bit of old fanart and set in one of my favorite “eras” for Steggy, a Modern AU set just after Avengers 1, where Stark Tower plays a big role. Let’s rewind to a simpler time of 2015, when this idea first came to me, while I was enjoying Steggy from the sidelines and Stark/Avengers Tower found family AUs were still all the rage. Back then, I loved nothing more than an AU where Peggy was brought forward in time to be with Steve. Only surprisingly, I had a more angsty take on such a reunion.
Let’s start with the original inspiration for this fic! At a time when I was not actively on tumblr but discovered Steggy and needed content to obsess over, sometime in 2015, I came across the loveliest fanart of Peggy with a caption that immediately captured my muse.
Shout out to @illustratedkate-blog who made a headcanon that Peggy in 2014 would have loved the Arctic Monkeys (and wearing cool ass leather jackets & shades as seen in the art. I don’t think is on tumblr anymore. I wish I could have let them know back then how inspiring their art was to me.
The song in question that Peggy (and consequently I, who had already been very obsessed with the Arctic Monkeys at the time) is "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys.
This was one of the first fics I ever attempted for Steggy (though never finished & never shared, because I was still super insecure about sharing my writing). I like to think I’ve improved a lot in the last seven years, so I hope I will one day be able to rework and finish this.
Until such a time, enjoy this collection of random snippets from the fic.
Title: This Tune of You
Summary: Not long after the Battle of New York, a still struggling to adjust Steve has another big surprise. A blast from his past, Peggy Carter mysteriously appears in one of Stark’s labs at Stark Tower. But the reunion is difficult, both Steve and Peggy now displaced in time, and not any better about discussing feelings than they did back in the SSR Bunker in London in 1943. They remain in this weird place, where they should have the closest connection, but instead of a spark rekindling, they have an argument about what Peggy’s appearance in the 21st century could mean and, in their stubbornness, it drives them apart. They begin to avoid each other.
Peggy who had never been one for sitting around, decides to take life by the balls and reacquaint herself with this world in 21st century. But after Tony shoots down her trying to visit England as New York City was feeling very lonely, she makes it her mission to seek out any still existing British comforts to make her more at ease.
She ends up discovering the Arctic Monkeys while hearing a song play while trying to get a handle on shopping malls, and the sound of it, the punching drum sounds, the forceful guitar, the lyrics, they all speak to her current state of mind. Her obsession with the new music leads ends up consumes all of Avenger Tower. Meanwhile, Steve continues to seem oblivious, as Peggy starts to get attention from many people, especially men, except for the one guy she wants it from.
**
“Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week. How many secrets can you keep? Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat”
Peggy Carter was still getting used to the fact that department stores, shopping malls, and all stores otherwise carry more options ready-to-wear than she could imagine. But Peggy has never been one to let unfamiliar settings daunt her. Pepper offered to do a little shopping with or for Peggy, just to get her started, but Peggy is a go-getter. And if the modern woman can be a chameleon, she wants to enjoy figuring out what innovations she appreciates on her own. Although she did take the names of the brands that Pepper was wearing as a starting point.
And as she walks carefully around lacquered mannequins, through racks of blouses and displays of jeans described as 'skinny' and 'leggings,' Peggy hears a loud strange sound float in the store. Peggy drops the dark jeans she was inspecting and listens to the assertive drum beat fold into an electric string sound. She is mesmerized by the repetitive beat, moving her like an extension of her heartbeat. Then she catches snippets of the lyrics and she knows that she's just fallen in love with this strange music. And she desperately needs to know what it is.
She seeks the saleswoman who's folding sweaters and asks her if she knows what the music is called. The girl with the perfectly straight jet black hair tells her she's pretty sure it's an Arctic Monkeys song but immediately pulls out her phone offering to Shazam it for her. She helpfully explains the app when Peggy tells her she doesn't know what the means. Peggy tells her that she's still getting used to her iPhone but the girl doesn't seem to be put off from Peggy's lack of smart phone knowledge.
"They're like, rock music, alternative, I guess I'd call them," the girl tells her as they wait for the app to perform its magic. "They're a British band."
This seals it for Peggy. She knows next to nothing about what the hell alternative means but she already feels a kinship to the Arctic Monkeys, whoever they might be. With the song name, Peggy thanks the girl and takes her up on her offer to show her the new line of jeans the store just received. Peggy walks out with a new leather jacket (faux leather, she's learned), and a new pair or skinny jeans that Joy, the friendly saleswoman, told her make her legs look great. Peggy agrees even though they feel a bit strange.
**
Peggy still frowns at the sight of Steve every time that she sees him in the Tower, steadfastly looking away from him every time he tried to meet her gaze. This time he's walking up the stairs while Maria talks over the files she's glancing through. At the landing, after a quick pause to look at Peggy, Pepper and Natasha, nodding politely, they part ways and Steve heads down the hall. Maria collapses into the couch as Pepper leans forward to pour her coffee from the French press.
"Gramps all set for the mission?" Natasha asks.
"Ramping up to go," Maria replies.
"Guess that explains why he's wearing half of his suit," Natasha says with a sly smile.
"He runs a little hot," Peggy says automatically, in a bored tone.
"Oh, we know," Natasha quips, setting the three of them into fits of giggles.
Peggy rolls her eyes, not in the mood.
"Sorry Peggy," Pepper says sheepishly with a shrug. "He may be an idiot but he's very easy on the eyes."
"All those bulging muscles... His chest is bigger than mine," Maria adds, sighing a little.
Natasha smirks. "Can't deny he looks good in those tight shirts Carter," Natasha says.
“Oh please,” Peggy huffs, “as if I wasn't the first person to touch them," she says in an offhand voice.
They all laugh again as Maria whoops and even Pepper leans in when Natasha asks for that story.
**
Tony, Clint and Natasha spy on Peggy in the training rooms a little too often. But Peggy's been giving them so many opportunities, since she started working out as much as twice a day. They heed Natasha's warning not to disturb Peggy though, and instead commit to quietly watch in awe as Peggy shreds the equipment.
"Isn't this sexy rock music? Meant for a young crowd?" asks Tony.
"She is sexy," Clint bleats as Peggy continues her rotation of one-handed push-ups and leg extensions.
"Oh god, not you too," Natasha scoffs.
"What? You can't deny it," Clint retorts.
"Of course not. But you two are acting like pervy teenage boys. She's gorgeous. And she'd eat you both alive."
"I'm sorry, who's standing here with us?" Tony asks.
Natasha smirks. "Oh I have a different interest regarding this situation."
She leaves them confused and slightly worried, but not enough to prevent them from gawking at Carter.
**
Tony's curiosity has peaked. "J.A.R.V.I.S how many times has Peggy played that song?"
"Seventy three plays in the training room, sir. The total count for that album totals over two hundred."
Tony shakes his head. "No wonder it's stuck in my head."
**
Steve keeps attempting to find ways to talk to Peggy, maybe suggest they go to the coffee place she and the others seem to like so much. But he can't seem to find a good moment, or get his mouth to open at all around her. But after seeing her come back with a guy, he can't stop the angry jealousy. He think he's calmed down enough by the next day when he sees her at the team meeting. Tony suggested pizza afterwards and Steve takes the chance to ask Peggy to talk. He insists on finding a more quiet spot.
They find an empty room off the lounge. He just wants to talk, ask her how she is, but the conversation goes from nowhere to havoc in seconds. He seems to be offending her every time he opens his mouth and he starts to get frustrated at her constant frown.
"You seem to be getting along just fine," he says icily.
Peggy's crossed arms turn into dangerous fists at her hips. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"New clothes. New friends. Guess you've come up with a new you to go with your new life."
"And what would you have me do? Lock myself in this Tower? Pretend I'm still in the nineteen forties?"
Steve shrugs petulantly, his arms now crossed, tight against his chest. "Seems like you're just fine leaving everything else behind. Going out for drinks. Coming back at all hours."
The accusations in his tone sets Peggy off. "Who do you think you are? My keeper? My father? Who I spend my time with is none of your concern!"
"Yeah I see you keep making that clear. So that's it? You're just moving along with no interest in the girl I used to know? You have no interest in what I think?"
"What did you expect Steve? You brought me here, to a time where every single person I've known is dead!"
"I'm not!" Steve yells.
"Oh and look at how that's served me! When I wasn't the perfect fantasy you imagined you walked away." Peggy's voice breaks, and she feels her chest heaving.
"You think this is fun for me? That I belong here any more than you do?" Steve is practically screaming.
"Dammit Steve!" Peggy curses. "You have a team! You have a place here! You're just a bridge away from Brooklyn. I have no home and I can't even step on British soil because Peggy Carter doesn't exist. I don't even exist in this world! So you'll excuse me for not feeling sorry for you, for not looking back at what is no longer mine!"
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