#fan-front bodice
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gogmstuff · 2 years ago
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More Hélène of Orléans, Duchess of Aosta (from top to bottom) -
Princess Helene of Orléans by ?. From antique-royals.tumblr.com/post/110099659143/princess-helene-of-orleans 676X1055.
1895 Hélène d'Orléans on her wedding day by ?. Posted to Foro Dinastias by Minnie on 1 November 2009; removed mono-color tint 623X951. Geri Walton (geriwalton.com/princess-helene-of-orleans-potential-suitors-wedding-trousseau/) quoted the Gloucester Citizen: “The bridal dress shows her to be extremely tall, and is placed on a dressmaker’s lay figure. It also shows her to be very slight. Old Orleanists say the Princess has the figure of her grandmother, the late Duchesse d’Orleans. The wedding dress is of thick creamy white faille, rather lack lustre. The edge of the skirt is bordered with a garland of orange blossoms. The train is not made to be supported by bridesmaids, but is three yards long, and is lined with white moiré, which throws it well out from the figure. The corsage is made a little in the blouse style, with three deep pleats in back and front. It looks loose thought a close fit, and has a kind of ruff arrangement round the neck formed of finely pleated white silk gauze, dotted with orange blossoms and supported with a number of bows of white faille ribbon. This part is very light and graceful, and will look well round a swan-like neck. The sleeves fit closely to the fore-arm, and gigots above the elbow. They are not at all so ample as sleeves now generally are. The veil is nearly three yards long and two wide, and will fall over the whole dress. The arms of France and Savoy are brought into this design. The wreath of orange blossoms from which it will fall is arranged like a diadem, and must add to the impression of height.”
1895 Hélène d'Orléans, duchesse d'Aosta wedding. I found this before I recorded sources of images 484X479.
1898 Princess Hélène of Orléans, Duchess of Aosta by Giacomo Grosso (Castello de La Mandria - Venaria Reale, Torino, Piemonte, Italy). From history-of-fashion.tumblr.com/image/632517363094405120 1178X2142.
1900s Helene, Duchess of Aosta, neé Princess d´Orleans. From carolathhabsburg.tumblr.com/page/74; fixed spots w Pshop and removed mono-color tint 1044X1400.
Hélène, Duchess of Aosta color image. From Google search 450X594.
ca. 1898 Duchess Hélène of Aosta, shortly after the birth of her first son. From hmn.wiki/ru/Princess_Hélène_of_Orléans 1280X1974.
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frmulcahy · 11 months ago
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Kind of in love with this c. 1840 dress at the Met
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bi-writes · 3 months ago
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I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon
mail-order bride
reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+
simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.
when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.
but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.
a pretty girl.
he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.
but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.
simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).
when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.
and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).
it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.
"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.
one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--
"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."
bloody fuckin' christ.
your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.
"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"
instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.
you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.
he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.
he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.
you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.
"we shouldn't," he mutters.
"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--
you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.
"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"
"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.
he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.
holy fucking shit--
"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"
"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.
"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"
"shit--"
you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.
he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.
your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.
"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.
"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."
"w-wha--! simon!"
you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.
but when you laugh, he does, too.
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pedroscurls · 2 months ago
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save a horse, ride a cowboy (one-shot)
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summary: hugh takes you to go flower picking, but all you can think about is taking him back to his car and riding him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warning: 18+, mdni! - reader has some description (hair/outfit), smut (teasing, unprotected p in v, car sex, so slightly public, creampie - oopsies, hugh calls you his good girl, reader is very dominant (and hugh doesn't mind it one bit!!!), biting and marking, cowgirl obviously) a/n: huge shout out to @wolverigrl for this amazing request!!! i'm just so obsessed with seeing hugh in a cowboy hat, like it literally just does something to me and i can't help it🙂‍↕️ i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it, thank you for sending me the idea! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. y'all should listen to save a horse, ride a cowboy by big & rich while reading 😉
“Come on, baby.” Hugh says, knocking on the bathroom door. “We’re just picking some flowers. Shouldn’t be too long and–”
You finally step out of the bathroom, dressed completely opposite from what Hugh’s wearing. He’s dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, a dark gray hoodie with his hiking boots and a cowboy hat. You knew the moment he put that on that you had to go change.
You bite your lower lip when you look up at him, feeling immense pride from the way his eyes are looking at you from top to bottom and bottom to top. You’re dressed in a white babydoll mini dress with a sweetheart neckline, empire bodice, and slightly puffy short sleeves. The silhouette of the babydoll dress continues with a ruffle at the end of your dress, stopping just at the middle of your thighs. 
You step forward, hands reaching out for him as your dark brown cowboy boots click against the tiled floor. You see the way Hugh’s throat bobs as he swallows deeply at the sight of you. 
“You ready, cowboy?” you ask, running your fingertips along his chest. 
Hugh still hasn’t spoken, eyes still glued to your entire frame as he takes your hand, presses a soft kiss on your knuckles, and then makes you twirl around in front of him. The ends of your dress lift slightly and Hugh has to clear his throat at the sight. 
“You’re wearing this to just go flower picking?” 
“I wanted to look cute,” you grin. “And besides, whenever you wear that cowboy hat, it just does things to me, Hugh.”
Hugh steps closer, his free hand moving to rest on your hip. “And what’s that, baby?” 
“Hm, you’ll find out.” You wink and lean up to peck his lips lightly. “Let’s go pick some flowers, cowboy.” 
As you’re walking away from him, Hugh turns around and watches. His eyes move from your shoulders, down to your back, settling for a few moments on your backside and then down your legs. He takes his cowboy hat off for a moment and shuts his eyes, mentally praying to himself that he keeps his excitement down – though the stirring beneath his pants tell him that it’s going to be difficult. 
You call out his name and look over your shoulder with such an innocent look, batting your eyelashes at him with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. Hugh opens his eyes to look at you and takes two large strides to get to you, an arm wrapping around your waist from behind as his hand splays against your abdomen.
His lips hover near your ear, breath fanning against you as it causes shivers to run through your body. “You’re like a southern belle,” he grins, nibbling at your ear. “I like it.” 
Your eyes flutter as you lean back against him, moving a hand to rest over his. “Wait until I ride you like a cowgirl,” you tease, turning your head to gently nip at his jawline. “But only after we pick some flowers.” You teasingly grind your backside against his front, immediately feeling his hardened length beneath the fabric. 
Hugh grunts in your ear and then releases you, putting the cowboy hat back atop his head as he takes your hand. “Let’s go.” He doesn’t spare you another glance as he leads you to the truck in the garage. Hugh knows he’s weak, knows that he can’t control himself when he’s around you, but he promised you a week ago that he would take you to pick some flowers. 
And Hugh is a man of his word, even though all he wanted to do was take you back home and have you ride him like you said you would. 
You couldn’t even focus on picking flowers, but Hugh’s taking it very seriously. He’s holding a white bucket, already filled with purple flowers as you trail behind him. Ever since you saw him put on that goddamn cowboy hat earlier that day, you knew you would be distracted. It’s the main reason why you had changed, why you’ve been trying to get his attention, to tease him and cut this flower picking session short. 
But Hugh wouldn’t budge. You noticed that he’s kept his eyes focused on the task at hand, only looking at you to make sure you were helping. It isn’t until you tug on his hand that you look up at him with a big grin as you take one of the flowers to tuck behind your ear. 
“How do I look?” You ask, batting your eyelashes once more up at him. 
Hugh bites his lower lip as he gazes at you from the rim of his hat. His gaze darkens at the sight of you and the grip around the bucket tightens as he tries to think of anything other than you riding him. 
“Gorgeous,” he finally says. 
The heat in your cheeks rise and you lean up on your toes to peck his lips. “I’m having a great time.” 
“You barely picked any flowers,” Hugh chuckles. “I’ve been doing all the work.” 
“Oh, that’s intentional,” you wink. “You’ll get a reward after all your hard work, I promise.”
“Reward, huh?” Hugh says quietly, moving his free hand to cup your cheek, watching you lean against his touch. “What d’ya have in mind?” 
You bite your lower lip, turning your head slightly to kiss the inside of his palm. “How about we go back to your truck and I just show you?” 
“We’re not done—”
You interrupt Hugh by taking the hat from him and placing atop your head, the flower in your ear falling and landing on the ground. You smile innocently at him, moving your hands to flatten the wrinkles on your dress. 
Hugh’s at a loss for words. The cowboy hat he was once wearing now completes your entire outfit as the hat sits perfectly on your head. Your hair cascades down your shoulders, his eyes moving quickly to take in your entire frame. God, you looked incredible. 
“I want to ride you, cowboy. Can you let me do that?” 
Hugh nods slowly. Usually, he’s always the dominant one in this relationship, always the one to tease you until you’re begging for more, always the one to talk dirty because he knows you love it, but now… Now, Hugh feels his resolve slipping. He likes this side of you, likes that you’re taking control, and he has no issue with you taking the reins. 
“We gotta go back home and—”
“No,” you interject. “I want to ride you in your truck. Unless,” you tease, running your fingertips along his arms and up to his shoulders. “You can’t handle a little risk.” 
Hugh’s eyes narrow down at you. He knows that you’re doing this on purpose… and he knows that he’d give in because he’d do anything for you.  
“Anyone can just drive up here, baby.” 
“No one but us have been here for the last hour.” You play with the strings in his hoodie, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “Come on…” you tell him, slowly beginning to drag him back to the truck. “Please?”
“Oh, we’re begging now, are we?” Hugh cracks a smile, the center of his pants tightening as he brings the bucket filled with flowers to cover himself. 
“Don’t you want to have some fun? Live a little on the edge?”
“I think I’m a bit too old for that,” Hugh chuckles. He knows it’s true. The age gap between the both of you was something that he was hesitant about, but you proved yourself to be nothing like women your age and it was… nice. A surprise. Something he certainly wasn’t expecting either. 
You roll your eyes. “So, we’re pulling the old card here, huh? Fine then, old man. I’ll just have to fix my problem myself. I’ll meet you in the truck.” You hold his gaze, watching his eyes repeatedly dart down to your lips back up your eyes. There’s a tense silence that fills the air between the both of you and you know he’s going to call your bluff, knows that he can see right through you. 
“Be my guest,” he growls lowly. Neither of you move and Hugh can sense that you didn’t like his answer. He can see the way your brows begin to furrow together, eyes narrowing. “What? Why ya looking at me like that, hm?” 
You don’t answer him and just take his free hand, leading him back to the truck without a word. Once at the truck, you take the bucket of flowers from him and set it on the bed of the truck before you push him against the driver’s side door. When you look up at him, you can see the surprise look on Hugh’s face as you step forward, hand moving to run down his chest, down his abdomen, until it hovers near the center of his pants. 
Hugh inhales sharply, one hand reaching out to grip your hip. Luckily, your body covers what you’re about to do as you run the palm of your hand over his growing bulge. Your eyes still remain locked on his, watching his own flutter at the sensation. 
“B– baby, we should–”
“Get in the truck,” you tell him, releasing your hold on him as you reach for the handle of the door. Your eyes darken, laced with desire and lust and Hugh feels himself throbbing almost painfully at this new side of you. He turns and helps you open the door as he climbs up on the seat and then looks over at you. 
“Well?” he asks, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. 
You reach down to push his seat all the way back as it will allow, giving him enough space for his legs and enough space for you to climb up on top of him. Once seated on his lap, you rest your core firmly against his hardened bulge and shut the door. The windows on his truck are tinted, which does provide enough privacy for the both of you and the windows are cracked just slightly so that there’s a breeze that enters the car. 
“We really–fuck,” Hugh groans, head resting against the headrest as he feels you roll your hips against his firmly. His hands dart out to rest on your hips, gazing up at you as your hands rest on his shoulders. He sees the way your face contorts in pleasure, mouth slightly agape, eyes fluttering. 
“Shh,” you tell him, gripping his shoulders as your hips grind down into him. You can feel the length of his manhood press against your wet core. Slowly, you sit back against his thighs to reach down to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lifts his hips slightly off the seat to push down his pants and boxers past his thighs to relieve the pressure. His manhood stands at attention, already throbbing and leaking at the tip as he stares up at you. 
Your legs are placed at either side of his hips as you reach down with your free hand to grasp his base, running his tip along the length of your sex. Then, you see his eyes widen when he registers that you hadn’t been wearing any underwear this entire time.
“No underwear, hm?” Hugh growls, grabbing the ends of your dress to lift at your hips. He sees your exposed sex and his length running along your wet heat, his grip on your hip tightening even further. “You minx.” 
“Easy access,” you grin, lifting above his hips slightly as he notches his tip at your throbbing heat. Slowly, you lower yourself down onto him, your walls stretching almost painfully to give way for his girth. Releasing his base, you move both hands back on his shoulders, biting your lower lip as the cowboy hat remains on your head, tilting it slightly back so that Hugh can get a good view of your face. 
Hugh lets out a loud groan at the feel of your walls sliding down his length, so warm, so wet, so tight and gripping him in a vice. He feels his breath catch in his throat when you finally lower yourself to the hilt and when he looks up at you, wearing his goddamn cowboy hat and holding onto his shoulders like your life depended on it, it just turns him on even more. 
“God, Hugh,” you moan, slowly rolling your hips forward and backward as your walls begin to give way to him. You’re so wet, your arousal leaking out of you and dampening the hair at his base. With each roll of your hips, the hair provides just the right amount of friction against your bundle of nerves and you quicken your movements, chasing your own release. 
And you’re close. Hugh knows it too, so he gently reaches up to lower the front of your dress. He lets out a quiet whimper at the sight of your exposed breasts, succumbing to your every move and allowing you to do all the work. “No underwear, no bra…” he groans, leaning forward to latch his mouth onto one of your peaked nipples. “Such a good girl for me,” he mumbles against you. “My good girl.”
My good girl. That’s it, baby. Fuck. 
It’s all you needed to hear for your walls to clench around him, reaching your first orgasm at record speed. You stop all movements, firmly sitting on his lap as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He’s so deep in this position and it feels so good, so full of him. Of Hugh. 
Hugh has to pull away for a moment to watch you. He always loved watching you reach your climax, the way your eyes shut tight, your mouth slightly formed in an ‘o’ shape, and a moan escaping your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen before. You were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen before. 
And now, the image of you orgasming wearing his cowboy hat with your dress pulled down enough to expose your breasts is an image that he will never forget. 
“Gimme a sec,” you pant, feeling him lift his hips slightly off the seat. You’re still sensitive, but you know that you want more. You need more. Leaning forward, you gently kiss the tip of his nose as the rim of his cowboy hat touches his forehead. “I’m only getting started,” you whisper. 
Hugh grunts and nods. He needs you to move, needs more of you, but he stays patiently waiting. He hooks a finger under your chin and gazes directly into your eyes, a small smile lining his lips. “You said you’d ride me, baby…” he says lowly. “Show me what you got.” 
And just like that, a flip in you switches and you grip his shoulders tightly. You gaze into his eyes and then begin to lift your hips, feeling every vein and ridge of his manhood throbbing against your walls. You hover above him until his tip is the only part of him inside of you before you slide back down on his length. You see his eyes flutter at the movement and you feel the grip on your hips tighten even further and you just know that it’s going to leave a mark later.
Hugh leans forward, lips pressing firmly against the side of your neck as he growls against you. He moves his hands from your hips to the flesh of your backside, gripping you tightly as he feels your walls grip him so tight, sliding along his length. He lets out a loud groan, teeth grazing your pulse point at your neck before he bites down roughly, kneading the flesh of your backside as he feels your hands from his shoulders to the base of his neck. 
“Hugh,” you moan, beginning to pick up the pace as you lift your hips upwards and back down. “So deep…” 
He pulls back a bit and gazes at the growing mark that he just made on your neck and it spurs him on even more, gazing up at you to see your eyes focused solely on him. Hugh knows he’s close and he leans back to rest against the seat, allowing you to just ride him like you said you would. 
You’re holding onto him as you both gaze down at where you’re connected, his manhood glistening with your slick before you slide back down onto him until he’s filling you so fully. 
“Fuck,” Hugh groans, watching as you move your hips forwards and backwards again. He feels it building in the pit of his stomach and he looks from where you’re connected, back up your body to your face, growling at the sight of you in his cowboy hat. “Mine, all fuckin’ mine,” he groans. 
Your hips move faster, the hair at his base once more providing the right amount of friction against your clit. You feel your walls begin to tremble as your hands lock together at the base of his neck, holding onto him as your hips roll repeatedly against his. 
“All yours, cowboy,” you tell him through quiet moans. 
That’s all it took. Hugh grips your hips, holding you still as he reaches his own high. He lets out a loud groan, head tilting back as he shoots his release deep inside of you, painting your walls. You’re breathing so heavily and you reach down to rest your hands on his wrists, slowly moving your hips forward and backward to milk every last drop out of him. 
He shudders against you, squeezing your hips as he slowly opens his eyes to look up at you. You’re gazing down at him with a small smile as you lean forward to kiss his cheek. You remain on his lap with his manhood still deep inside of you, feeling him soften within your walls. 
You cover yourself back up, bringing the top of your dress back to cover your breasts as you look at him. Hugh’s breathing so heavily, eyes focused directly on your own. 
“So this is what happens whenever I wear that cowboy hat, hm?” he says quietly, a small smile lining his own lips.
You grin and nod, looking up at the hat on your head before turning your gaze back onto him. “You wear this and I’m riding you every time,” you promise. “And I’m gonna be wearing it while I do.” 
“God, you’re amazing.” 
“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, right?” you tease. 
Hugh nods and wraps his arms around your waist, leaning forward to peck your lips lightly. “I’ll be your cowboy anytime, baby.”
--
forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl
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valkyriexo · 6 months ago
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Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 2 - Favors
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ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.
ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids
ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery
ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ; Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI
ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  Death, Suggestive MDNI, Cursing
EPISODE WORD COUNT; 4.7k
AUTHOR'S NOTE ;Surprise! Episode 2.. have you ruled some people out yet?
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me.
Master Post | Teaser |
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The morning sun casts a warm glow over the bustling streets as you and Chan make your way through the vibrant shopping district. Surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within you.
As you stroll arm in arm with Chan, laughter spills from your lips, the carefree atmosphere infectious as you revel in each other's company. The windows of the shops lining the street display an array of enticing goods, each one tempting you with its allure.
Entering a boutique, you're greeted by a wave of delightful scents and the soft melody of music playing in the background. You browse through racks of clothing, giggling and flirting as you playfully model various outfits for each other.
"What about this?" he asks, trying to contain his smile. You can't help but burst into laughter at Chan's suggestion, his playful grin infectious as he holds up the most outrageous garment he could find.
"This could work perfectly for the family dinner."
"Oh, absolutely," you reply with a playful grin, "I'm sure my parents would love to see you show up in that."
"You know what? I think there's a matching one for you," he says with a sly grin, disappearing into the racks of clothing.
Moments later, Chan emerges from the racks of clothing with a triumphant grin, holding up what can only be described as a fashion disaster. The dress in question is a riot of colors, with clashing patterns and textures that seem to defy all sense of style. But what truly sets it apart are the dozens of teddy bears, each one seemingly hand-sewn onto the fabric with reckless abandon.
"Voila!" he exclaims, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of the garment.
"Chan, what on earth is that?" you manage to choke out between giggles.
Chan's eyes widen dramatically, a look of mock horror crossing his face. "What? You don't like it?" he exclaims, his voice filled with playful disbelief. "To think, I put so much effort into finding the perfect ensemble, only to have my impeccable taste called into question."
You play along with his theatrics, pretending to be remorseful. "Oh, forgive me, fashion guru," you say with a grin, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly. "But that thing looks like it was designed by a kindergartener on a sugar rush."
Chan chuckles, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Okay, maybe not the best choice," he admits, his laughter blending with yours as you share a lighthearted moment amidst the racks of clothing.
"Ooh, what do you think of this one?" you ask, grabbing a dress that caught your eye. As you hold the dress in front of you, its allure is undeniable. The flowy skirt cascades from your hands, swaying gently with each movement, while the corset top adds a touch of allure and sophistication to the ensemble.
The corset is expertly tailored. Its intricate lace-up design adds a hint of drama and elegance, drawing the eye to the sculpted lines of the bodice.
Chan's eyes light up as he gazes at you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Absolutely stunning," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. 
"The dress or me?" you say.
Chan's grin widens as he steps closer, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed appreciation. "Well, the dress is lovely, But you? You're dangerous"
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Dangerous, huh?" you echo, feigning innocence as you tilt your head, "And why's that?"
Chan's grin widens. "Well, it's simple," he says, his voice a smooth, seductive murmur, "because you make heads turn so hard they might break their necks." The words hang in the air, thick with implication, as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.. "You make it impossible to look away, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, he closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It's a moment of sweet surrender, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine as you melt into the embrace.
When he finally pulls away, a knowing smile plays at the corners of his lips, his eyes alight with affection. "See what I mean?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Absolutely dangerous."
You can't help but laugh at his corny yet utterly charming response, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Smooth talker," you tease, nudging him playfully
"Smooth talker? Nah, I prefer to think of myself as a master of compliments," he quips. "But hey, if the shoe fits..."
As you glance past Chan, your laughter fades as something catches your eye through the boutique window. Your gaze falls on a figure standing farther away, amidst the bustling crowd of people passing by. Despite the distance, their eyes seem to lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
You freeze for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to make out their features through the crowd. You realize that their features are obscured not just by the throng of people, but also by an oversized hood and mask that conceals most of their face, leaving only a vague silhouette in your line of sight.
With a surge of determination, you shove the dress into Chan's hands, your urgency evident in the abruptness of your movements. "Hold this," you instruct him quickly, your voice trembling.
Before Chan can react, you turn on your heel and bolt out of the boutique, your heart pounding in your chest. Pushing through the wave of shoppers, you make your way towards them, only to find that they have vanished into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but an eerie sense of déjà vu.
"Where are you going?" Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone laced with concern as he noticed your sudden change in direction. Frustration mounts as you search fruitlessly for any sign of the stranger, your senses on high alert. But no matter how hard you looked, they were gone.
"I saw... something," you reply cryptically, your focus solely on tracking down the shadowy figure that had captured your attention.
Chan's hand finds yours, his touch grounding you in the midst of your swirling thoughts. "Saw what?" he questions, his tone gentle yet insistent.
"I-....Nothing....Nevermind," you murmur, shaking your head slightly as you try to dismiss the unsettling encounter. Despite Chan's comforting presence, the memory of the mysterious figure lingers in the back of your mind
"Are you sure?" Chan asks, his concern evident in his voice. "We can stay if you want, but if you're feeling unwell, maybe we should head home."
You consider his suggestion, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of leaving the bustling street behind. "Yeah, let's go home," you agree, a small smile playing on your lips. "And hey, how about we cook lunch together? It could be fun."
Chan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that," he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's get going then." With his hand in yours, you allow him to lead you away from the busy street.
Once home, you kick off your shoes and settle into the cozy ambiance of your shared space. Chan wastes no time in heading to the kitchen, his enthusiasm for cooking evident as he gathers ingredients and starts preparing lunch.
As you watch him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, you find your thoughts drifting, a slight fog settling over your mind. You know you should be helping him, but the weight of your thoughts is making it difficult to focus. Your mind is a mix of thoughts, uncertainties, and unresolved questions.
"Hey, could you help me out with this?" Chan's voice breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to the present.
You blink, realizing you've been lost in your own thoughts for a few minutes. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your voice slightly distant.
Chan gives you a concerned look. "I asked if you could cut this cucumber for me," he repeats, holding out the vegetable and a knife.
You take them from him, trying to shake off the fog that clouds your mind. "Right, sorry," you mumble, feeling guilty for not being more present.
As you slice through the cucumber, your mind still feels preoccupied. Chan's voice brings you back once again.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks at you.
You meet his gaze, offering him a weak smile. "Yeah, just lost in thought," you reply, though you know it's more than that.
In response, Chan sets down the ingredients he's working with and moves closer to you. There's a determined yet gentle look in his eyes as he takes your hand, pulling you away from the cutting board and towards him.
Without a word, he guides you to sit on the edge of the countertop opposite him. His touch is comforting as he stands between your legs, his hands resting on your waist.
"You seem really on edge," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Is there something specific that's bothering you?"
You hesitate. "I don't know," you murmur, not really wanting to reveal much.
"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?" Chan's voice is gentle but probing, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
"I don't know," you confess. "I'm just feeling.....weird."
Chan's lips brush against your neck in a tender gesture, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
"Feeling weird huh....," he murmurs against your skin, his warm breath sending a wave of tingles through you. You find yourself nodding, unable to form coherent thoughts as his lips continue their mesmerizing dance along your skin. The tension that had gripped your shoulders begins to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of warmth and arousal.
"Does this help?" his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His hands wander back down to your waist, tugging you closer. You feel the heat from his body even through the layers of clothing, his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. You nod again, feeling your face grow hot as your body reacts to his touch. "You always help," you reply softly, melting into his comforting touch as his lips trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. 
He looks up, meeting your gaze with gratitude and affection. Leaning in, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The soft, sweet press of his lips is everything you've dreamed of and more.
He moans softly as your tongue darts out to tease at the seam of his lips, eagerly granting you access. You can taste the faint traces of peppermint on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, tangling with yours in a heated dance.
You sigh happily, losing yourself in the kiss as the world seems to fall away around you.
He slides a hand up the back of your neck, gripping your hair and using it to pull you closer to him. His mouth moves over yours, hot and hungry.
"Tell me what's on your mind, love," he urges, his voice husky with desire.
"It's...it's nothing," you breathe, gasping slightly as his hand tightens in your hair. " I was just... just thinking.." you stutter as he trails a line of hot kisses along your jaw.
"Mmmhmm" he purrs, his breath warm against your skin.
His hands slide down back down your sides, caressing your hips and then moving further south to cup your ass. He squeezes firmly, making you gasp in surprise, and then grinds his hips against you, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through your body.
"Chan," you moan, arching your back and pressing closer to him. You want more. Need more.
"Hmmm?" he hums against your lips, kissing you again.
"You're distracting me."
He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Maybe that's the point," he murmurs, his hand moving to your front to palm your breast through your shirt. You whimper softly as he continues to explore your body with his mouth and hands, teasing you mercilessly until you can’t take it anymore.
A faint sound interrupts the peace of the moment. It's barely noticeable at first, like a distant melody weaving its way into the room.
Chan lifts his head slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you say something?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“Chan, want you..” You beg.
He smirks against your lips and pulls away slightly, looking down at you with dark eyes. “What do you want?” he asks, voice low and husky.
“Tell me what you want, baby.... I need to know.” You swallow thickly, your face heating up at the way he stares at you with lust in his eyes.
He growls low in his throat and leans back down to kiss you again, more forcefully this time. His tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. The taste of him fills your senses and makes your head spin.
"You."
His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, caressing your skin. You can't help but arch your back, pressing closer to him.
"Please..." you beg.
He trails kisses down the column of your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a path of fire in their wake. He bites down on the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you gasp in pleasure.
His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt and push it aside, revealing the black lace bra underneath.
The faint sound interrupts the space once more, still barely noticeable.
Chan lifts his head again slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you hear that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You shake your head, the sensation of his touch still lingering on your skin, your attention fully focused on him.
He frowns and turns his attention back to your exposed chest, placing kisses in the valley in your chest. He lets out a contented sigh and moves lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your stomach.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your skin. " but i know something that taste so much sweeter."
Your breath catches in your throat as his lips brush against your inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there.
He pulls back and looks up at you, his dark eyes burning with desire.
"You want me, baby?"he asks, his voice rough with need. You nod wordlessly, unable to speak. He smirks and places another soft kiss against your skin, making your whole body shudder. "Say it."
"Y-yes."
"Say my name," he commands, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.
"Chan."
"Again."
"Chan."
"Louder."
"Chan!"
"Mmmm."
His tongue darts out to lick a stripe along the seam of your panties, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
You can feel his hot breath on your core, teasing you through the thin material. You moan, arching up against him, and his hands move lower, slipping into your panties. His fingers brush over your folds, and he lets out a low growl as he feels how wet you are.
"So wet for me already, babygirl?" he murmurs, his lips pressed against your ear.
"Yes," you breathe, squirming under his touch. "I need you, Channie."
The sound persists, growing slightly louder this time, and you both become aware of a subtle vibration beneath you. Gradually, realization dawns as you exchange a puzzled glance.
Chan runs his other hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Okay," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and determination. "I know I'm not going crazy."
With a sudden jolt of recognition, you shift and reach into your pocket and retrieve your phone.
You glance at the screen, irritation flaring up as the same unfamiliar number flashes over and over again. Chan shoots you a pointed look, his annoyance palpable.
"Who is it?" he mutters, his eyes narrowing.
"It's some number ," you reply, your frustration mirroring his. "They keep calling me, and I don't know who it is."
With a sigh, you decline the call and return the phone to your pocket.
"Well, whoever it is, they can wait," he growls, leaning in to continue his previous actions.
The phone vibrates once again, the display illuminating.
You both let out an exasperated groan as the ringing persists.
"This is ridiculous," he huffs, his lips curled into a frown. "Why won't they just leave a message or something?"
The phone continues to ring, its shrill sound cutting through the silence of the room. You sit up, reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace, and reach for your phone again. "Fine, I'll answer it," you grumble, pressing the answer button with more force than necessary.
"Must be important if they're calling this many times," he remarks under his breath. You offered a strained smile in response before finally speaking into the phone, trying to keep your frustration in check as you greeted the unknown caller.
"Hello?" you say, trying to ignore Chan's comment.
"Hello, Y/N."
"Yes? Who is this? How do you know my name?" Your voice trembled with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, the unexpected familiarity sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but there's been a fire at Y/F/N's house," the voice continued, its words carrying a weight that seemed to crush the very air around you. "They... they didn't make it out in time. I'm so sorry."
The world seemed to come to a screeching halt as the full impact of those words registered in your mind. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight settling over you like a suffocating blanket.
Shock immobilizes you, rendering you momentarily speechless as your mind struggles to process the news. Disbelief clouds your thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, you entertain the hope that this must be some cruel prank or a terrible misunderstanding. But the solemnity in the caller's voice leaves no room for doubt, and the reality of the situation hits you with relentless force.
"What?" The word escapes your lips in a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. It feels as though the ground beneath you has shifted.
"Your friend has passed away," the voice repeats, its tone filled with sympathy.
Your breaths come in shallow gasps as you struggle to comprehend the news, each inhalation feeling like a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down upon your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment, but you fight to hold them back, afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to surrender to the overwhelming sense of grief. Your hands tremble as you clutch the phone tightly, the cold metal offering little solace in the face of such devastating news.
Chan's irritation dissipates instantly as he sees the color drain from your face. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with worry.
You struggle to find the words, your mind reeling from the devastating news. "It's... it's ," you manage to choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "She didn't make it... there was a fire..."
As you relay the news, Chan's expression shifts from concern to horror as your words sink in. His features contort with disbelief, mirroring the shock and anguish etched across your own face. For a moment, neither of you can find the words to articulate the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume you both.
All around you, the morning light seems to dim, casting a pall of darkness over the room as you come to terms with the harsh reality of mortality. The laughter and playful banter of moments ago fade into the background, replaced by the deafening silence of grief.
"I never got to say goodbye," you confess. Chan's arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the pain that threatens to overwhelm you. You bury your face in his chest, his heartbeat echoing in your ears.
The phone slips from your grasp, forgotten amidst the grief. Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotions, the world around you fading into insignificance as you grapple with the void left behind by your friend's passing.
In an attempt to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos, you seek refuge in the familiar routine of your self-care, the warm shower offering a brief respite from the relentless pain. But even as the water cascades over you, washing away the physical traces of sorrow, the weight of grief remains heavy upon your shoulders, a reminder of the gaping hole in your heart.
When you emerge, you are greeted by the sight of Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han, chatting quietly with Chan as they enjoy the lunch he had prepared.
Your heart sinks at the sight of them, a mix of surprise and apprehension washing over you. You had completely forgotten that they were supposed to come over today, and the thought of facing them in your current state fills you with dread.
Before you can retreat back into the safety of your room, Felix spots you, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of concern and understanding. There's no escaping now. You feel a lump form in your throat as you reluctantly step into the room, their eyes following your every move.
Chan's expression softens as he catches sight of you, concern etched into his features. "Hey, there you are," he says gently, his voice a welcome anchor in the storm of emotions raging within you.
You offer a weak smile in response, attempting to mask your emotions. The weight of their collective gaze feels suffocating, and you find it difficult to meet their eyes.
Minho offers a sympathetic smile as you approach, his eyes reflecting the shared sorrow. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine compassion.
Your throat tightens with emotion at his words, grateful for his heartfelt condolences. "Thank you," you manage to croak, each syllable heavy with the weight of your grief. You step closer to them, the fragrant scent of the flowers filling the air around you. "This means a lot."
Seungmin nods in agreement. "We're here for you," he assures you earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity and support.
You offer Seungmin a grateful nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion.
With a final round of supportive embraces and reassuring words, Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han bid their farewells, their departure leaving an emptiness in the room. As the door closes behind them, the silence settles in around you, heavy with the weight of your grief.
Your eyes catch sight of a single black rose with a white ribbon tied around it, placed delicately on the counter, near the gift basket. The ribbon, elegantly tied around the stem in a neat bow, adds an air of mourning to the scene, evoking memories of funeral bouquets and memorial services. It's presence feels out of place in the bright warmth of your home, casting a shadow of unease over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere.
Beside the rose, the torn page from a diary lies in disarray, its edges jagged and uneven, hinting at a hurried and frantic tearing. As you approach, the faint scent of ink lingers in the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of the rose.
"What... what is this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to examine the mysterious objects. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pick up the torn page, the words written upon it sending a chill down your spine.
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 You quietly read the note out aloud, the words sinking in with a weight that threatens to crush your spirit.
It's the same signature as the letter you received the night before, the one that filled you with a sense of foreboding.
This wasn't just a casual letter. It was intentional. Someone out there is targeting you, and you can't help but feel a creeping sense of unease at the thought of what might happen next.
Your mind races with questions, each one more terrifying than the last. Was "Her" referring to your friend? Did someone harm her? The possibility sends a wave of panic coursing through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the cryptic message.
Then the realization sinks in:
How did it get in the house?
You frantically look around for Adam, your bodyguard, realizing he should have been by your side. Panic sets in as you rush to the door, throwing it open to find him outside. Confusion and fear intertwine as you demand an explanation.
"Adam, what are you doing out here?" you ask, your voice trembling with urgency. "You were supposed to be inside with me. Why are you here?"
Adam's expression is grave as he meets your gaze, a shadow of concern flickering across his features. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, his tone tinged with regret. "I sensed something off and decided to check the perimeter. Is everything okay?"
You furrow your brow, a mixture of frustration and concern evident in your voice as you question him. "How did this get inside?" you say waving the note and flower in your hand.
Adam's gaze follows the items, his expression darkening as he takes them from you, examining them closely. He hesitates for a moment, looking puzzled before responding, "I'm not sure," he admits, his voice tight with worry. "I didn't see anything, ma'am."
Your irritation grows. "Isn't it your job to do just that?" you say sharply, the edge in your voice reflecting your annoyance at the situation.
Adam, visibly flustered, stammers out . "I apologize, ma'am," He said bowing. "I'll check with the other guards on duty as well as Stacy, who was here this morning"
"Who's Stacy?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar name.
As if on cue, Aera enters through the front entrance, her presence graceful as she bows respectfully. "That would be me, ma'am," she says, introducing herself with a polite smile. "It's my English name. Most people call me Stacy. Though I must admit, I prefer Aera."
You nod in acknowledgment, still processing the unexpected revelation.
You address your bodyguard with a firm tone, your frustration evident. "Under no circumstances are you to allow anything or anyone into my home without my explicit permission. Is that clear?"
He nods in understanding, chastened by your stern reprimand. "Yes, ma'am," he responds.
You turn your gaze towards Aera, a firm expression etched upon your features. "And why, may I ask, are you here?" you inquire, your tone tinged with a hint of sternness.
Aera's eyes widen slightly, and she bows apologetically. "I... I'm sorry for the intrusion," she stammers, her voice soft with regret. "I wanted to offer my condolences, but I realize now that I've interrupted."
Aera retrieves a bouquet of flowers from behind her back, her movements hesitant as she extends it towards you with a slight bow,her eyes downcast with humility.
You nod, acknowledging her apology, taking the bouquet, delicately tied together with a pristine white ribbon, from her hands. "Thank you, Aera," you say, your voice softening slightly. "But next time, please check with me before coming over."
Aera bows again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Of course, I'm sorry," she says, her tone contrite. "I'll make sure to do that in the future."
As she turns to leave, Chan steps forward, concern etching his features as he approaches you, his touch gentle as he places a comforting hand on your back. Aera's gaze lingers on him for a moment, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes before she quickly averts her gaze and bows once more.
"Thank you. You may go home now," you say, dismissing her with a nod. Aera bows again, her expression a mix of regret and understanding, before quietly leaving.
Turning to Adam, you gesture for him to follow suit. "You too," you say, your voice firm but not unkind. Adam bows respectfully before leaving, leaving you alone with Chan and the weight of the day's events settling upon your shoulders.
Chan notices the tension in your posture, his concern evident as he approaches you with a gentle touch.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You offer him a reassuring smile, though it feels strained. "Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though the words ring hollow even to your own ears.
Chan's gaze softens as he takes in your troubled expression. "You don't have to pretend, you know," he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."
Chan notices your hesitation and gently prompts, "You've been on edge all day. Do you want to talk? I want to help."
As you lean into Chan's comforting embrace, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, but the sense of unease still lingers at the edge of your consciousness. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to voice your concerns.
"I... I feel like someone's watching me," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chan's brow furrows with concern. "Watching you? Why didn't you tell me before?" he asks gently, his concern evident in his tone.
You hesitate, searching for an explanation. "I'm not actually sure," you admit, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping it from him.
"Well, do you think it's your mind playing tricks on you?" Chan suggests, trying to offer a rational explanation. "Now that you've won Artist of the Year, you probably just feel like more attention is on you."
"Yeah, you're right," you concede, the weight of his words resonating with you. Perhaps it was just your imagination running wild in the aftermath of your recent success.
"Besides," he adds, "you have a bodyguard. He's good at his job. You're safe with him around."
You nod, appreciating his attempt to ease your worries. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. 
"And you also have me," he adds
Chan's concern is evident in the softness of his gaze as he gently suggests, "How about a massage?"
His caring tone and thoughtful suggestion warm your heart, and you can't help but smile at his consideration. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "But I think I just want to rest," you admit, exhaustion tugging at your limbs as the events of the day catch up with you.
Chan's lips curve into a reassuring smile as he squeezes your hand gently. "Okay." He says.
With a heavy heart, you decide against sharing the note with Chan. You don't want to burden anyone of your fears, and the thought of putting him in harm's way fills you with dread.
What if whoever sent this comes after him next?
For now, you keep the note to yourself, tucked away where no one else can find it. It's a burden you'll bear alone, at least until you can figure out who's behind this and why they're doing it.
But no matter how hard you try, the sense of foreboding lingers, a constant reminder that danger may be closer than you think.
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ઇଓ Ep.3 - Knock, Knock
ઇଓTaglist in the comments! If you want to be removed from the taglist send me a dm!
ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months ago
Note
Hiii, would be comfortable with writing something about the reader not having a good relationship with her parents but loves her in laws and they are basically like her parents, thank you
Note: I have this plotline for Pierre, there are other pieces you can read as well about this too if you haven't read yet and want to read more 🤍
Cw: reader has a bad relationship with her family/has cut ties with her family
"Have you decided what you want to have in the tables?", Pascale asked as she brewed some tea for the two of you, watching Jean and Pierre working on the grill outside.
"Not really, we've seen a few arrangements, and we know what we don't like - especially those really big things where you kind of can't see the person in front of you", you scrunched up your face and she giggled, "it's not the priority on our list, but we're going through all of it in due time", you said, "It has been hard not having anyone else to discuss it with - Pierre only cares so much about how it all looks", you shrugged before composing yourself, "don't get me wrong, he's been very involved, he's been to all of the meetings with the wedding planner and the only thing he isn't involved in is the dress try-on for obvious reasons".
"No need to be so flustered, dear", your soon to be mother in-law soothed your worries quickly, "it's nice to know he's been helping, I knew he would after he asked me a couple of questions", she winked, "you never have to worry about asking for help or opinions - I'd love to to and pick the dress with you if you'd like me to be there", she offered, not wanting to step on any toes.
"I'm glad you're in my life", you spoke up, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. All of the day to day jokes about mothers in-law you grew up hearing and laughing about were surely not written about the lady in you had in front of you.
"Chérie, we're the lucky ones to have you in our lives - there's no one else I'd love to be with Pierre", Pascale smiled, hugging you and rubbing your back gently.
.
"I like this one," Anna said, looking at the dress you were wearing. The look on your face however didn't match her excitment, "It's not it, is it?", Alexandra offered as you twirled around, not like the naked back detail.
You shook your head and walked back to the dressing room, shoulders slumping at yet another attempt to try on your dress. Was your body the problem? Did you have a funny taste in wedding fashion?
On your way to the curtained area, you tripped on the dress, quickly balancing yourself before actually falling over, checking if you had done any damage to the dress, "just because it doesn't look right on you it doesn't mean you should rip it, Y/N", you muttered to yourself.
"Chérie", Pascale called, "can I talk to you for a bit?", she asked before you nodded, letting her grab your hand, "It's ok, beautiful girl, there are lots of dresses. We will find the one you like the most and that is the one for you", she said rubbing your hand in a comforting manner.
You nodded and looked up, keeping the tears at bay, "thank you", you sighed, squeezing her hand.
The last dress was not one you would usually go for even though you still picked it from the hangers, finding the ties and undoing then enough so you could try it on. You slid the dress on carefully and pulled the ties as tight as you could, pushing your boobs a little so they would fall into the moulded cups. As you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful in it. The bodice fit perfectly, hugging your waist beautifully before fanning out on your hips, and the train wasn't too long, just the right amount to elongate your presence. It felt soft against your skin, and once the lacing on the back was properly done up, it would feel secure and delicate.
Giggling softly, you walked out to meet the group again.
"I think she found it", your soon to be sister in-law Charlotte smiled she saw your radiant smile, "I just need help with the back", you said, turning around so Pascale could help you as she immediately got up and delicately threaded up the laces on he back.
"It's beautiful, Y/N, you look so beautiful", Pascale whispered, "It's like it was made for you," Alexandra clapped her hands excitedly, "This the one", your murmured, twirling around happily in front of the mirror.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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saltylandland · 8 months ago
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I want to draw this but idk how to draw nsfw plus, busy, so here is a list of ideas, also I’ve been following @weebsinstash for awhile and I just think you’d be into this :)
Your dearest friend (and co worker) confesses that she’s the main heroine of this world, she got randomly sent here from her world, in her world this place is a romance game. She says regardless of if you believed her she was telling you the truth and-
You nodded yes, and not because you were a loyal side character, but bc you knew. After her confession you get a flood of memories of a different world, and a detailed retailing of the world you’re in.
Your friend, though she is bland by design, she is radiant and an unforgettable presence, despite not being able to remember her face even after just facing her.
The story, about an emperor with a curse. The entire castle keeps the secret, all families have been working there since the empire was first founded. Cult like loyal to their (admittedly really competent) emperor
Your friend, what was her name again? No- that’s not the point. Her goal, the goal of the game, was to tame the emperor's curse by existing, something no one had ever been able to do.
Face multiple challenges like the jealous empress, make your way through the fanatical loyalists and get closer to the emperor. Rise from empress’s handmaiden, to imperial consort, to empress herself!
Your friend whispers to you that she can tame the beast that prowls though the castle at night, and that she’s going to soon.
(The emperor becomes extremely aggressive with sharp claws yada yada, unfortunately no monster fucking this time tho)
But when that night arrives, she fails. You find her corpse before anyone else does. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, she was supposed too- her body was collected and buried and it was almost like she never existed. Not that she didn’t have family, but like a spell the mysterium of the heroine fades away seemingly with no impact, she was just another victim of the beast.
With a new sense of fear, and with new memories, no loyalty to this empire, you were hatching a plan to leave. The night you were scouting out a path, with the excuse of chores on the night shift, you run into the beast. He was supposed to be chained up?!?
you are tackled to the ground, the emperor is on top of you. Opening your eyes you see him nuzzling your neck, shallow breaths fanning across you. You panic, this was supposed to happen to your friend not you. You can predict it now, he’ll turn into like a lap dog how embarrassing-
RIIIIIIIIIIIP- suddenly he rips your bodice down the middle, exposing your breasts to the cold air.
————
You try to avoid it but he keeps hunting you down and mounting you.
One night you hide away in the deepest parts of the castle, since you had been searching for a place to hide all day (and the beast fucked you all night) you fall asleep
Waking up to a gentle rocking it takes you a minute to process that you were now under him taking his cock
Then on one of the nights he does it in front of servants and they tell the empress who then calls you into her office, reader who is already planning to leave is scared you’re gonna get executed
The empress tells you that this is your job now, using your body to ‘tame’ the emperor bc there has been no incidents otherwise
This is a complete 180 to the empress from the game. She also insists that the emperor cannot know that he’s fucking you every night, as he is a decent man and he’d feel guilty, and to prevent you from getting pregnant she will supply you with potions to prevent that. And there is no other choice (not said but heavily implied) Now you are being treated as the unofficial concubine which the empress seems to dote on, your official title is the empress’s handmaiden/confidant
It is later revealed to you as you unwillingly get closer to the empress that though she loves the emperor (they grew up together) she doesn’t really care for sex (either cuz she’s lesbian or just ace) and once she got pregnant with their heir, their sex life basically stopped, tho they didn’t have an actual conversation, the emperor could tell she wasn’t into it and didn’t push her
Bonus points if she’s telling you about what a good man/husband he is for not pushing her/making her take care of his needs like that while he rearranges your guts.
Later later you find out that the emperor realized what was going on, but since it prevented him from hurting anyone he went along with it. And now since you’re so close to the empress, both of them start to fall and become yandere and now you have the most powerful couple who want you for themselves ❤️
Also, quick idea for an ending, he starts regaining control of himself as basically his and the beast’s goals become the same, and he starts loving on the reader even before nightfall and so the two personalities begin to blend and he’s cured! How wonderful! But now you’re the official concubine congrats! What? You don’t want it? Too bad! They want you! Also good luck making it out of the castle as everyone their views you as the emperor’s saviour.
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mytheoristavenue · 3 months ago
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MHA Prince!Katsuki Bakugo x Princess!Reader 🍋 - Redemablity
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Summary: You are distraught to wed your new husband, the son of a neighboring kingdom who is known to be quite cruel, but is it possible that he may have redeemable qualities only presented when it's time to consummate your marriage?
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, breeding, premature ejaculation, unprotected sex, dom!bakugo, sub!reader, afab!reader
You drank your reflection in numbly, bright bridal eyes picking you apart. To the untrained gaze, you were the ideal image of youth and beauty- the fairest in the land, some would say. But your eyes were bloodshot and cradled by puffed lids. Wet lashes threatened to stain your cheeks with inky tears should you ever stop fanning the sorrow from your eyes. Pushing away from the vanity, you sighed, feeling weighted by dread, as if there were stones in the folds of your gown. You had little time to prepare and all weeping would do was waste it.
Your instructions were clear as day: dress down and await your husband's arrival while nestled modestly in bed, clad in your sleeping gown. You had been offered a chambermaid, and you adamantly refused her services, but in the end, your request for privacy was vetoed.
"Please step back, ma'am," A deep, yet still feminine voice croaked You did as she asked, stepping backward toward her as her nimble fingers began to unlace your corset. "If I may speak freely, your grace," She offered a small smile that went unseen as she loosened the strings. "His Majesty is blessed to wed such a radiant gem as yourself."
"Thank you, Asui," You swallowed dryly. You'd been referred to like this all your life, eventually being called beautiful lost it's charm.
"Please, ma'am, call me Tsu," She beamed cheerily, trying to melt the thick tension in the air as she finally was able to shimmy your bodice off.
Something about her friendly demeanor actually was able to soothe you some. Since you'd arrived in this kingdom, you'd only been met with fear, praise, or condescension. It was incredibly nice to have a single person who offered something resembling friendship. "Thank you, Tsu." You corrected with a small bow of the head. "Tell me, are the rumors about the people of this kingdom true?"
Tsu gave a knowing smile as she came to your front to untie your skirts. "Aye," She nodded. "The royal family of this kingdom are ruthless and unforgiving, that much is true. But," She digressed, letting your outer skirt fall to the floor, followed by the layer just beneath. "You'll find no safer castle to reside in. This is a fortress, guarded by the most valiant of kingsmen and the tactical prowess of their Majesties remains unmatched."
"You're saying this kingdom wins wars," You conclude, a tad more bitterly than intended. "I do not fancy myself a husband who is interested in war."
"Aye, ma'am, but that's what you've got." The chambermaid said matter of factly. "The Bakugo family are conquerers and the prince is no black sheep." She could see the unrest settling deeper into your face and she offered another reassuring smile as she began dismantling your crinoline. "If it brings you any solace, know that rumor has it Prince Katsuki picked you out himself. Out of a line of potential wives, he'd settle for no less than you specifically."
"That brings me nothing but dread," You laugh weakly. "Ruthless and obsessed do not make the perfect husband."
Tsu's shoulders slumped, seeing as she couldn't sway you into giving the young prince a chance. "I respect your opinion, my lady, but keep an open mind, perhaps. Making up your mind to live miserably now will not grant you any favors down the line..."
She was absolutely right and you knew it as you stepped out of the crinoline. "I will do my best." You relented slightly, letting her shimmy your bloomers down, along with your stockings. She nodded pleasantly to you now that you were undressed, her swampy eyes only protected from your form by a paper-thin linen sleeping gown. Offering you a hand, she led you over to the grand four-post bed, fitted with fine silks and soft furs- the most lavish bedding the castle had to over.
"Nestle in, my lady," She cooed, holding up the sheets while you tucked under them. "His Majesty will be with you shortly." You simply nodded with a longing look, as if begging her not to leave as she turned on her heels to go. "Send for me should you need anything."
"Thank you, Tsu..."
-----
You'd nearly drifted off when the door opened again, flooding candlelight into the otherwise dark room. The flame flickered against a stoic face, before being settled on a nearby table. You could hear the shifting of heavy fabrics and rustling in the middle of the room- your new husband stripping, no doubt. You stayed perfectly still, pretending to be asleep as he moved the candle to the bedside table and crawled under the covers with you.
"Wake up," Was all he said, shifting under the covers to loom over you. "Don't think sleeping through our wedding night will stop the consummation of this union." His words had come out as a threat but he hadn't intended them that way. Your eyes shot open at the warning and you nestled yourself deeper into the mattress. Katsuki could see your unease and he softened, but not enough for you to notice- you weren't looking for it. "Don't run from me," He said lowly, palms on either side of your head.
"Release me," You spat, scrunching your face in disdain as you pulled the covers up to your collarbone.
Unsurprisingly, he didn't take this well. "Being my wedding night, I am in an unusually good mood, so I'll give you an opportunity to recollect yourself and remember who it is that you're speaking to."
"I don't care who you are," You doubled down. "I will never willingly play this role you've forced upon me."
The venom in your voice took him back and he sat back on his calves, still between your knees. "A regretful circumstance, but I can assure you, though your willingness would be ideal," He sighed as if his cruel words carried little weight on his conscience. "It is not necessary."
"You would take me by force?" You shrieked, disgusted by the notion, attempting to shift away.
Vermillion eyes bore into you like a nail through splintering wood. "No," He finally answered, cold stare trained on you. "At least not in the way you expect." Katsuki repositioned himself, scooting closer to you. "You are required to produce my heir and to consummate this marriage tonight. That is all that's required of you and it will be done."
His mind made up, he loomed over you, taking the backs of your knees in his hands. "Know that I don't take any pleasure from this. Look away if you feel the need."
You took his advice, hiding your face in your shoulder, eyes squeezed tight, bracing for impact. Instead, you were only met with a warm and overwhelming pleasure. Gasping, you immediately shot up to investigate, finding those same eyes, burning into yours like the last embers of a bonfire. "Does this hurt?" He simply asked, calloused, slobbery thumb rubbing languid circles on your clit, never slowing or breaking eye contact.
All you could do was shake your head before letting it fall back into the pillows. "W-Why..." You croaked, confused as to why he'd pleasure you after threatening to take you despite protest.
"I don't want to hurt you," Katsuki confessed, again making a threat out of an honest statement. "That is to say, if you won't enjoy this, I want it to bring as little discomfort as possible."
You began to feel a bit silly for assuming he'd simply take you with no preparations or regard for your comfort. The gesture of trying to coax natural lubricant from your unwilling body was almost...sweet in some way. It was nearly enough to make you change your mind, but you held rocksteady in your convictions.
"I never have been a poet," Katsuki finally spoke again, lifting the hem of his sleeping gown to reveal himself already erect and weeping. He pumped lazily into his fist, milking pearlescence from his tip before smearing it as far as it would spread. "But I will admit when I am overcome and I am..." He paused, steely gaze tracing your ill-covered form.
The linen gown did you no favors when it came to modesty, draping over your every curve like a silk sheet. Your visage was reminiscent of Greek statues he'd studied in youth, full-figured ones chiseled with such skill that the marble they were made from looked sheer against the body. He could tell by the sight of you that you were healthy enough to survive childbirth dozens of times over as he primally kneaded the dough of your hips. Hips that were perfect for carrying the weight of an heir- many if he had his way. "And I am dreadfully overcome tonight."
"Overcome by...what exactly?" You dared to ask, peering up at him meekly.
"Need, desire, instinct," He answered, vermillion eyes never leaving your body. "I have waited years to have you in my bed, my lady." He confessed, jaw slack as he ate up your image. "Forgive me if I seem brash, I was never blessed with the gift of eloquent speech. That's why I searched for a wife like you, who could decipher my thoughts."
Katsuki's brows furrowed as he released a captive breath, stroking himself more intentionally. "I may be rough around the edges, but I will gladly lay down my life for the sake of redeemability in your eyes."
His stare was still stern, but there was a softness in it that you could no longer ignore. Try as you did to villainize the prince, you found yourself smitten with this sacred, saccharine side of him. You had often fantasized about marrying a stoic man who had a soft spot only for you as a young girl- could it be possible that this was your girlish dream come to fruition?
"Are you overcome by me, your grace?" You murmur, tucking your chin to your collarbone, voice dripping with more flirtation than you had intended.
"Aye," He breathed, still stroking himself lazily, a still thumb pressed against your clit. "Overcome and overwhelmed- direly." His desperate expression melted what little resolve you had left and you relented to the notion of enjoying your wedding night.
-----
"God," Katsuki rasped, caging you in his arms as he breached, not only consummating his union with you but exchanging his virginity for yours as well. "So much better than I could have ever dreamed..."
You couldn't help but feel shy at his words, only increased by the overwhelming sensation of the agonizing initial stretch. You squeezed your eyes tight, not daring to look at him for fear of catching him staring back. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes had screwed shut in bliss, muscles relaxing and giving way entirely as his head lulled backward, a mess of platinum locks resting against his trapezius.
Your husband continued to pray under his breath, pressing your knees closer to your shoulders, hardly resisting the need to let his hips sputter. It tempted him all the more the way your velvety hole squeezed him as your body struggled to adjust to the new presence, but he held steadfast and perfectly still. He promised himself he would until you begged him to move. That's what he expected at least.
However, despite how he imagined the act proceeding, your body reacted before your lips could part. A pitiful groan left his lips as you sucked him in, hips bucking up in a feeble attempt to take matters into your own hands. A few shallow rolls and an almost silent whimper were all it took and your suddenly sweet spouse snapped.
"Now you've gone and done it," He sighed, plunging into you at an already steady pace, unable to lift his head from how it rested backward as his hips snapped into yours. "W-Won't be able to stop now, no turning back."
You could almost forget the soreness if this could last forever. He perfectly stuffed you, his tip just kissing your cervix when he was fully sheathed, but still able to bully it if given any effort. You would have laid there forever, letting him fuck into you with all the brutality you expected him to carry before actually meeting him. If only he'd lasted beyond the first few thrusts.
Minutes after he began picking up pace, you felt his body lock up and his breath sucked into his throat as a gooey warmth spread through you. You stared up at him thinking surely you were mistaken but his expression showed his true colors.
Red splotches painted his cheeks, streaking across his nose and dripping down the shells of his ears. His brows were furrowed, for once not out of frustration, but in an almost pathetic scrunch, and his jaw hung slack, drool drizzled on his chin. There was no mistaking it, even to your untrained eye- this was the flushed face of a man who had just planted his first seed.
Before you could react, he breathed out a few words that made your heart swell. "M-My deepest apologies," He sighed, hips still spasming. In perfect honesty, you were a tad disappointed, thinking that he'd now surely pull out, leave you with a mess, and flop over, out like a light. Imagine your surprise when his hips snapped into yours again, pulling a low, pained growl from his throat. "I-I won't- hah-" Katsuki mutters through gritted teeth, giving you another sharp thrust, falling into a terribly slow, but brutal pattern. "I-I won't leave you unsatisfied, my treasure."
You never could have imagined your wedding night with 'The Merciless Son of Musutafu' to be so wonderful. You could see the discomfort in his face as he pushed beyond his own limits to ensure your needs were met. Every grunt and prayer that dripped off his kiss-bitten lips made you feel incredibly special, especially when the volume of what filled you increased.
Katsuki couldn't help but release a second time, milked by your tight heat, overstimulated past the point of even feeling climax anymore. Tears pricked his eyes as he drowned in the constant and endless build-up. You pitied him terribly, but not enough to allow him to stop, locking your legs around his waist as you selfishly chased your high. "Please, just a bit more," You pled, feeling the rutting of his hips slow, exhaustion over taking him. You raked your brain for an idea of how to spur him on until your finally remembered your purpose: to produce him a son.
"K-Keep going, darling," You purred, rolling your hips to meet his to make up for what he began to lack. "Forgive me for what I said, I'll be a good wife, just- ahh..." You trailed off in a moan, eyes rolling back as you crawled toward your summit. "I-I want to bare your heirs, as many as possible!"
Just like before, your words broke something in him and he became ultra-aware of the creamy fluid he'd blessed you with. His brows furrowed, this time paired with a determined gleam in his eye and a stern frown as he began to push his oversensitivity aside. He was going to conceive a child tonight, Hell or high water. He could only imagine rubbing your round belly as you greeted him home from another war won, a gaggle of blonde children surrounding you- the vision kept him going as he bullied that special spot, fucking his seed into you as deeply as possible.
You could no longer keep up with his bruising pace, unraveling almost as soon as he picked it up. You saw white as he continued to push you further through your climax, whispering sweet nothings pertaining to how wonderfully you'll fill the roles of wife, mother, and queen.
-----
You weren't certain when you'd drifted off, but you awoke to sunlight peaking through the windows of the chamber, the lark singing you good morning. It startled you at first- how tightly you were held against your new husband. He cradled you from behind, a peaceful expression on his sleeping face. It didn't take you long to recognize a foreign fullness inside you and your face reddened when you realized, that not only were you still full of his load, you were still connected to him. He must have stuffed back inside when we cuddled up to you, you decided.
Your shifting stirred him and he hummed, sanguine eyes fluttering open as he glanced up at you. He remained silent, though you could almost see the words on his tongue. Finally, he spoke with a lazy smile. "I didn't want anything to go to waste, I wanted to make sure it took."
Something about his words churned your stomach and you smiled, flexing your abdominal muscles to squeeze his growing morning erection. "If I weren't any wiser, I'd be inclined to believe you may have enjoyed our first night together." Katsuki teased softly, wrapping his battle-scarred arms around your plush middle, pulling you closer.
"You may be correct about that," You admitted with a playful laugh, letting him cuddle you like a stuffed toy, sighing as his hips rolled languidly into your backside. "I would hate to let this opportunity go to waste," You smirked, pushing your rear against his lap. "After all, if we are to produce an heir within the next year, we can't let a single chance to conceive slip by, now can we?"
"Aye, a wise idea, my sweet," He laughed dryly, arms tightening around you as his face nuzzled into your hair, "I want to start my family as soon as possible."
Hi guys, I'm so very sorry this took so long to come out! I've been terribly busy lately and I wanted this to be really good for you all! I want to give a special thanks to all my new followers, as well as the loyal few who have been with me all this time! We are now at 4.04K followers and counting, that's so crazy! When I started writing a decade ago, I never could have anticipated that I'd have so many people enjoying my little hobby, let alone so many within three years of joining Tumblr. You all truly are the best and I hope everyone enjoys this one! I love you all so much!
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shitsndgiggs · 4 months ago
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Hey... can you write about kenan yildiz x reader where they are in established relationship and she had an opportunity to do this modeling job where she had to wear wedding dress on runway... and his kind of reaction to seeing her in that way and his teammates teasing him about it. I'm talking about those big beautiful wedding dresses that are elegant and iconic... make it fluff...
WALKING THE RUNWAY - KENAN YILDIZ
In which kenan is mesmerized when you walk down the runway in a wedding dress
Kenan Yildiz x model! reader
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︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Kenan and I had been dating for a couple of years now, and he was always so supportive of my career as a model.
But tonight was special. I had been selected to model a series of wedding dresses for a high-end fashion show, and Kenan had insisted on being there to watch me.
The venue was packed, the lights were blinding, and the music was loud. The energy was electric, and I could feel the excitement coursing through my veins as I stood backstage, waiting for my turn. I took a deep breath, smoothing out the intricate lace on my dress.
"You're up next," a stagehand whispered to me.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew Kenan was out there somewhere in the audience, probably sitting with his teammates.
The thought made me smile. He always looked so proud when he watched me work.
As I stepped onto the runway, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight focused on me. The crowd hushed, and I could feel all eyes on me. The dress was a masterpiece—an elegant, iconic wedding gown with layers of delicate fabric that flowed like a dream.
The bodice was adorned with intricate beadwork, and the train trailed behind me, shimmering under the lights.
I walked down the runway with confidence, my eyes scanning the audience until I found Kenan.
He was sitting in the front row with some of his teammates, and I could see his jaw drop as he took in the sight of me in the wedding dress.
His eyes were wide with awe, and a proud smile spread across his face.
As I reached the end of the runway, I struck a pose, the dress fanning out around me. The audience erupted in applause, but all I could see was Kenan, his eyes filled with admiration and love.
Backstage, as I prepared for my next outfit, Kenan's teammates were quick to tease him.
"Dude, did you see the look on your face when she walked out?" one of them laughed. "You looked like you were about to propose right there!"
Kenan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I couldn't help it. She looked incredible."
"Better start saving up, man," another teammate joked. "She might want a dress like that for the real thing."
Kenan grinned, still mesmerized by the sight of me in the dress. "I'd buy her a hundred dresses if it means I get to see her that happy."
When the show finally ended, and I had changed back into my regular clothes, I found Kenan waiting for me backstage.
He pulled me into a tight hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around.
"You were amazing," he said, his voice filled with pride. "I couldn't take my eyes off you."
I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You say that every time."
"But this time, I mean it even more," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "You were absolutely breathtaking in that dress."
I blushed, looking down at my feet. "Thank you, Kenan. It means a lot to me that you were here."
He cupped my face in his hands, tilting my head up to look at him. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Seeing you up there, so beautiful and confident... it made me realize how lucky I am to have you in my life."
I smiled, leaning into his touch. "I'm the lucky one, Kenan."
He kissed me then, soft and tender, his lips lingering on mine. When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine. "I can't wait for the day when I get to see you walk down the aisle for real."
I felt my heart swell with love and happiness. "Me too, Kenan. Me too."
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theostrophywife · 1 year ago
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As far as fluffy Eris thoughts go… I really would give anything to lay back against his broad chest while he reads a book aloud, big arms bracketing around your shoulders to hold the book out in front of you both. His chin would be resting over your shoulder, his breath fanning over your ear… I bet you could feel his chest rumbling against your back as he speaks in that soft low voice… hips resting between his thighs, leaning back to rest your head against his shoulder, rubbing gentle circles on his knees where they’re propped up around you… I need it 😭
willow.
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the more that you say, the less i know; wherever you stray, i follow i'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans, yeah that's my man
author's note: willow was written for eris vanserra and eris vanserra only.
autumn leaves rained down from above you, littering the forest floor with red, orange, and gold. the seasons were changing and the last of the summer heat was ushered out with a soft breeze that held the promise of fall.
eris pulled you in closer, his strong arms wrapped around you like the roots of the weeping willow you were currently sitting under. buttery sunlight peeked through the tree's branches, its warmth kissing your mate's fiery hair and freckled skin. you breathed in the fresh air mixed with amber and blood oranges—the unmistakable scent of your lover.
when you woke up this morning, you hadn't expected to be able to spend the day like this. usually, you and eris were busy with overseeing the affairs of your court, but today your high lord insisted on taking a much needed break. so here you were, perched in his lap, enjoying the first day of fall while eris read you poetry under your favorite tree.
"l'amour est le miel," you said. eris nuzzled his nose against your neck, making you giggle. "pretty please, mon amour."
"anything for you, ma chérie."
you settled against his chest as eris turned the page, easily finding the poem by its folded edge. your mate rested his chin on your shoulder, his solid chest a comfortable resting place as you leaned back to listen to him read.
la vie est une fleur, l’amour en est le miel. c’est la colombe unie à l’aigle dans le ciel,
you closed your eyes, feeling the gentle rumbling of your mate's chest against your back as he spoke in that sweet and soft low voice that he only ever used with you.
life is a flower, love is its honey. it is the dove united with the eagle in the sky,
there was something so soothing about eris reciting poetry. he had a voice like honey, warm and golden, spreading through your entire being like nectar. eris snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him, his fingers tracing soothing patterns upon your skin as he placed you between his thighs.
c’est la grâce tremblante à la force appuyée, c’est ta main dans ma main doucement oubliée
eris cradled you between his long legs, smiling as you leaned in to place a kiss on his knee.
it is trembling grace with sustained force, it's your hand in mine gently forgotten.
with his breath fanning over your cheek, you sighed in content as his hand crept up the bodice of your dress. his kisses were warm and wet against your neck as deft fingers unlaced the front of your corset. eris pulled down your blouse underneath, placing an openmouthed kiss on your shoulder. when your gazes met, his eyes were full of fire.
"sweetheart," eris said gruffly, his teeth grazing your earlobe. he wrapped his fingers around the hollow of you throat and whispered the three words that would be your undoing. "i need you."
you straddled his lap and pulled him in for a kiss, your lips melding together while you rolled your hips against his. you could feel his desire, both physically and emotionally, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill his every fantasy. eris slid his tongue against yours, devouring you with a ferocity that reminded you of the initial years when the mating bond first snapped. decades had passed since then, but your hunger for one another only seemed to grow with time.
"i want you," you whimpered against him. "i want all of you, eris."
he growled and nearly ripped your dress to pieces, along with his restraint. eris hiked up your skirt as you unbuckled his trousers impatiently. the ache within you was excruciating, every fiber of your being screamed for eris.
"i know, my love." finally, you freed his cock from his trousers and he groaned as you rubbed the tip against your slick. "fuck, have all of me. everything that i am is yours."
your lover groaned as you eased onto his length, taking inch after inch like a woman starved. when he was fully sheathed inside you, eris rested his head on your shoulder, his moans buried deep within your skin. large hands gripped your hips as you rolled against him. the pace you set was indulgent, making your legs shake each time his cock thrust further into you. it was a clash of teeth and lips and tongues as you put your bodies to the test.
the pleasure was indescribable as the two of you made love underneath the willow tree. it was a meeting of souls, an exchange of who you were, who you are, and who you would be. you couldn't tell where eris began and you ended. you were one and the same, fusing together like some brilliant merging of worlds. the comedown was euphoric. there was nothing quite as blissful as sharing that intimate moment of vulnerability with your lover.
afterwards, eris cradled you in his arms and smoothed your hair back before leaning in to press a kiss on your temple.
"je t’aime chaque jour davantage," he whispered. i love you more each day.
you smiled and gave him that same unwavering answer that you first declared to each other underneath this willow tree.
"je t’aime pour toujours."
i love you forever.
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marzipanandminutiae · 11 months ago
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Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)
no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it
Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory
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...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me
2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal
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What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.
3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive
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There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.
4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive
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I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.
5. Ghost Shoulder Bag
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If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.
6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red
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This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.
7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black
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It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.
8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black
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You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.
9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.
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You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.
10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black
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I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.
11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black
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This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.
12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold
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This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.
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The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10
13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil
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Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.
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Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.
[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]
14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver
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THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?
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IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.
Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.
Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.
5/10 overall.
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gogmstuff · 2 years ago
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1860s in portraits (from top to bottom) -
1860 Julie (Julia Mathilda) Berwald née Åkerhielm af Margrethelund by Maria Röhl (Nationalmuseum - Stockholm, Sweden). From history-of-fashion.tumblr.com/image/174790814314 1280X1749.
1861 I love another by Abraham Solomon (location ?). From cooks0977.tumblr.com/image/669145211964882945; fixed larger spots & flaws & cropped w Pshop 953X1180.
1867 In the Country by Alfred Stevens (location ?). From tumblr.com/beautifulcentury 823X1128.
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eolewyn1010 · 1 month ago
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Downton Abbey Fashion 18 - post-war evening dresses
I feel like all the dresses I personally find beautiful are the ones that are not allowed to come back for another season. Unfortunately, this applies to a large part of Cora’s early wardrobe.
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Interestingly, while I’m pretty sure she wears this champagne evening gown at least twice, I think she never wears it without the dark brown velvet robe. At least I don’t remember having seen the sleeves of the dress. The colors are a nice enough match, but nothing on either piece points to them having been made as a set. The dress is embroidered in crystal or glass beads, the coat apparently in pearls. But anyway, this dress is lovely!
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More velvet, this time in plum over a pink silk base layer. Plus a little white lace trim. So far, so nice, although I don’t know why they made the sleeves of yet another fabric instead of working out something similar to the deep cowl collar. But fine, the beige works as a nice backdrop to a little flower embroidery.
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Cora can’t keep off the velvet this season – time for some black. It’s fashionable black, not mourning black, so Cora can afford to pretty it up with netting on sleeves and shoulders, tassels on the sleeve hems, a big brooch in the front, and some gorgeous lace gloves that I desire with a vengeance. Despite this being a quite heavily decorated dress, I think the neckline would invite a discreet little necklace. Ah well.
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*sigh* This red silk work is quite an iconic look, and one that stays into season 3. I’m gonna level with you: I think it outstays its welcome. I don’t like this one. Oh, it’s a fine dress in theory; the embroidery is lovely, the red shades coordinate well with the golden shoulder straps, I’m a fan of the fluttery sleeves. But the cut of this bodice isn’t doing Cora’s figure any favors. Is there any reason to make her waist look so disproportionately short without really hitting the Edwardian empire waistline?
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Much better. This goes a lot more into 1920s styles with the drapey chiffon top, and I think the hip overlay (sash?) looks very pretty. It’s the only heavily embroidered piece, which seems unusual for the muted coloring of the dress, but it merges very nicely into the wide sleeve cutouts with the jewel trim.
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Yay, black dresses with embroidery are keepers for season 3. Okay, this is not the worst of them; the gold thread with beads makes for a pretty cute look, but why does Cora wear a sleeveless dress for Christmas? Or is this a shirt? The skirt is greyer, so it might be separate.
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There’s something with this season and brown dresses. It doesn’t always work in the wearer’s favor. I mean, I like this pleated wrap style, but the head scarf really washes out Rosamund’s beautiful ginger hair and the dress doesn’t give any other color pop either.
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Hey, look, it’s a black dress with golden beading. You know what this means: It’s spectacular enough to stay into season 3! I’m getting very tired of this, but I can’t just bitch. The chiffon sleeves are cute, and there’s this style of little grape bundle earrings that pops up here and there across the show.
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A black dress I find remotely interesting? Can only be here for one season. See, this one pulls off the empire waist Cora’s red silk dress didn’t want to commit to. And the top is basically just one big stretch of gold brocade (plus or minus some black chiffon for the sleeves). Damaged brocade, by the look of that second image. Is this an original? Is that why they couldn’t keep it around?
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One of the subtler favorites of mine: The use of these black scallops is just delicious, how they open to diamond shapes on the arms (over barely visible chiffon that has exactly the color of Rosamund’s skin) and are held together with actual diamonds. I love it, it’s wonderful despite not having made a spectacle out of it.
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These shots are not great, but this is rather a lovely dress, albeit one that is in Edwardian style and is thus beginning to look out of fashion. The skirt is some silverish blue velvet that pairs nicely with the paler-colored top, all crepe-work wrapped in a V over a simple light blue base layer. Also, behold the trim. It sparkles!
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chic-a-gigot · 2 months ago
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La Mode nationale, no. 38, 22 septembre 1894, Paris. Notre patron découpé. Corsage tailleur. Bibliothèque nationale de France
Détails & Explications du Patron découpé:
Ce corsage est croisé et se boutonne de côté par un rang de petits boutons; la basque est légèrement ondulée. (This bodice is crossed and buttons on the side with a row of small buttons; the basque is slightly wavy.)
Il se compose de sept morceaux: (It is composed of seven pieces:)
No. 1. — Le devant croisé, avec pinces sur le milieu du devant pour bien former la cambrure. (The crossed front, with darts on the middle of the front to form the arch well.)
No. 2. — Le petit côté du devant; un cran indique son raccord avec le devant. (The short side of the front; a notch indicates its connection with the front.)
No. 3. — Le petit côté du dos; deux crans indiquent son raccord avec le petit côté du devant. (The short side of the back; two notches indicate its connection with the short side of the front.)
No. 4. — Le dos. (Back.)
No. 5. — Le dessus de la manche qui est laissé plus large dans le haut, de façon à former éventail et qui est plissé dans la couture du coude. La manche est plate dans le bas. (The upper part of the sleeve which is left wider at the top, so as to form a fan and which is pleated in the elbow seam. The sleeve is flat at the bottom.)
No. 6. — Le dessous de la manche; un cran indique le raccord avec le dessus. (The underside of the sleeve; a notch indicates the connection with the top.)
No. 7. — Le col droit; un cran indique le devant. (The straight collar; a notch indicates the front.)
Cet élégant modèle de corsage tailleur se fait en lainage, ayant pour tout garniture des piqûres ou des galons.
Métrage: 2 mètres en 120 centimètres.
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taylorswiftstyle · 1 year ago
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Attending Jack Antonoff's wedding | Beach Haven, NJ | August 19, 2023
Larkspur & Hawk 'Olivia Button Earrings' - $1,200.00 Cartier ‘Agrafe Herringbone Twisted Necklace’ - $27,250.00 Erdem 'Melora Ruffled Lace Corset Dress' - $3,935.00 $1,967.00 Jacquie Aiche 'Rose Cut Round + Marquise Finger Bracelet' - $7,600.00 Gucci 'Crystal Kid Scamosciato Mallory Slingback Sandals' - sold out
What one can guess is the ceremony day, Taylor opted for a beautiful pale blue dress by Erdem. This feels like a vamped up daytime continuation of the lace two piece from the night prior. Adding a bit more length and replacing a scalloped hemline with a similarly textured ruffle detail is an A+ lesson in styling for the slideshow and building recognizable, repetitive motifs. Note to wedding guests if you need to plan multiple lewks over the course of a wedding weekend. This particular dress also maintains some sultry energy thanks to the moulded bustier-like cups and fitted bodice.
On the accessory front, to know me is to know I’m a fan of strappy, minimalist sandals. These ‘Scamosciato Mallory’ slingbacks are that while also being fun thanks to the crystal embellishments. Extra applause for going tonal with her accessories for a cohesive look.
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babblingeccentric · 4 months ago
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Your Grace
I wrote most of this in a haze of divinely inspired lust after @quinloki posted the first few chapters of Dragon's Clause. I let it sit for a little bit and then realized it would make a great gift. So I polished it up and posted it.
Happy Birthday Quin! I made you pornography.
CONTAINS: Sabo x Reader, Reader with breasts and a vagina, power play, titles, rough tit play, fingering, mild bondage, pet names "angel" and "darling"
Sabo is as polite and gentle as ever as he leads you to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. He holds your arm as you bend to arrange your skirts and waits until you’re comfortable before taking out his handkerchief, handing it to you, and then undoing his cravat. He takes one of your small hands in his black gloved one and rests it on the arm of the chair. And then he ties it there with his cravat, tight and immovable. He told you he would do it, and yet it still makes your heart jump.
Sabo takes the hankie from your hand and does the same to the other hand. Smiling, he looks up at you.
“Okay?”
“Ah- fine” you answer.
“No shooting pains?” 
You shake your head.
“No? Can you wiggle your fingers for me?”
You oblige and Sabo leans back on his heels after you move each of your fingers, “Perfect!”
Something in his face changes then as he kneels between your legs. He starts to look like the maddened duke of court rumors, shadows limning his face and scar stark and horrifying. You could believe he cares not a whit for anything but his own amusements.
You freeze as his long fingered hands stroke your sides, square palms sweeping over your bosom to arrive at the top of the line of buttons running down your front. He watches you for a moment, long gloved fingers resting in the hollow of your throat. Your heart beats no slower, but you relax your shoulders and breathe again. 
Sabo smiles and then turns his focus to his fingers. He undoes the cloth covered button at your throat. You feel his warm breath on the skin of your neck. He doesn't take off his gloves.
Each tiny button is a great effort for him to undo with covered fingers. There is a silver buttonhook on the bureau that he used to button up your bodice this morning. You don’t mention it to him. It would feel wrong. It’s not your prerogative to tear the heavy blanket of silence over the two of you. Sabo never does anything he doesn’t intend to.
Somehow, instead of being silly or awkward, his head bent close to you and his gloved hands patiently struggling to undo your bodice create a hushed anticipation. You're barely breathing as you silently watch him work his way down your chest, each button feeling like a step closer to the sun. 
The only sound is your breaths.
Finally, as he watches you from under his lashes, he undoes the last button. 
Like unwrapping a delicate piece of crystal he pulls aside your bodice to reveal your heaving chest pushed upwards by your corset and uncovered by the low neck of your shift. You don’t know when you started panting. 
You feel much too hot to be so undressed.
Sabo caresses the swell of your cleavage with the smooth leather of his gloves, fanning the heat somewhere in your breastbone.
“Sabo…” You whimper, and he looks up at you, eyebrow arched in reprove.
“Angel…” he says danger in his voice
“Your Grace.” You hastily correct yourself
“Yes?” He answers archly
You stutter, not expecting to get this far.
“Nothing to say? You should think before you speak.”
He pushes the collar of your shift off your shoulders and carefully scoops your breasts out of the cups of your corset. 
The sudden cool air of the bedroom on your nipples makes you shudder, and Sabo smiles self satisfiedly at it. 
Gently he swipes his leather clad thumbs over your nipples, watching your expression like a predator.
Your lips part gently in the surprise of him finally touching you, but your carefully cultivated control of your face keeps anything else from leaking through. The air is thick and muggy with tension.
Sabo loves a challenge though, and presses his lips to the mounds of your chest leaving soft chaste kisses as his thumbs begin to circle your nipples. Your hands clench at the arms of the chair they are tied to, and your thighs press together under your skirts. The tension is excruciating. 
You arch your back trying to press yourself into Sabo’s hands and mouth and he smiles against your skin.
“Do you want something, angel?” He asks
Your breath catches in your throat. 
“I- ah.” words stumble in your mouth. “I would like more, please, Your Grace” You manage.
“Very polite.” He says smilingly. “I shouldn’t deny such a sweetly made request, should I?” 
You shake your head rapidly. It’s insane, Sabo has barely touched you, just a few caresses of your breasts and you feel like you’re losing your mind to want. You almost suspect sorcery.
Achingly slowly his mouth envelops your nipple, and then he sucks. It sends a frisson of heat zipping through your spine. His mouth is warm and wet and soft and he looks up at you as he does it. Even with your arms tied down it’s his gaze that really makes you feel pinned. He’s watching you like a hunting cat, studying your expression with intimidating intensity as he caresses you. You shut your eyes.
One of his gloved hands moves from your side to cup the neglected breast. He pinches and rolls the nipple gently in his fingers and it pulls a high breathy sound from your throat.
You feel him grin at that and he makes a path of wet open mouthed kisses across your chest to your other nipple. 
He repeats this switch several times until your nipples are puffy and your chest wet with saliva. You are squirming in your seat, some hot hollow in your stomach driving you to crave.
“More, please! Sabo, harder!” slips from your lips and everything freezes.
He pulls off your tit with a pop.
“Sabo?” He says.
You rush to correct your mistake, “Your Grace! I’m sorry, Your Grace. Please, Your Grace.”
He pauses, deciding your fate. You feel like the sword of Damocles, suspended by the thinnest thread. 
Finally, Sabo returns to your breasts. This time rougher, digging his teeth into your areola and tugging on your nipples, sending rushes of pain and pleasure through you.
You moan, low and long into the air, the punishment more a reward. 
Your face flushes from the lewd noise you make and Sabo grins smugly up at you.
“Aw, who knew my darling could moan like a whore just from a little tit touching.” He says meanly.
Your breath catches in a sob.
“I wonder…” He muses airily. “If I could make you come from this alone?”
You wail. You’re already desperate for something to touch your cunt, the idea of him spending ages just slowly playing with your breasts as you lose more and more of your mind until you’re a wailing paragon of unsatisfied lust is absolutely torturous. 
“No! No, Sa- Your Grace! I can’t. I can’t! Please…” You beg.
He relents a little at your frenzied begging. That may be a little much for a first time, after all. And you do beg splendidly for someone who’s never done this sort of thing before. He’ll be lenient. 
“Alright, alright,” he yields, “Perhaps another time.” 
Your breathing slows and Sabo continues to play with your nipples as he watches your face. You’re flushed and sweaty with glazed eyes and parted lips, the very picture of debauchery. It really is incredible he’s managed to elicit this just with a little tit play and tying your hands.
“Now, what do you need, Angel?” He asks
“I need you to touch me, Your Grace!” And before he can smugly say he’s already touching you, you add “Under my skirts! Please, Your Grace, make me cum.” 
And really, how can he deny that? Sabo thinks. You even have the beginning of tears in your eyes.
“As you wish.” He says and bends his blond head to your breast as one black gloved hand slips under your skirts.
The feel of the smooth leather makes you moan as he swipes his fingers through your slit. Removing his hand Sabo marvels at the gathered wetness.
“Oh, Wow, angel.” He says awed as he spreads his fingers making the clear slick form dripping strings. “You really did need this.”
You can’t look at him, embarrassed by your desire. And then he pops his gloved and glossy fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean with an appreciative hum. 
You squeal and jerk your bound hands in an attempt to cover your face at the humiliation of watching him do that.
He laughs at you and presses a chaste kiss to your jaw. “I’ll save eating you for another time, darling.” 
“The rumors are true! You really are a man eating ogre.” You gibe thoughtlessly.
Sabo cackles at that, shoulders shaking as he laughs harder than you’ve ever seen him. 
Finally he calms down and returns to press soft kisses against your face. 
“I did say I would make you cum, didn’t I?” He says as he pulls away.
You nod eagerly, wiggling in the chair he has you tied to.
“I hate to break my promises.” Sabo says as he presses a wet kiss to your parted lips, his gloved hands returning to your breasts and the apex of your thighs.
He strokes your cunt gently as his fingers tug cruelly at your nipples, his hot mouth pressing biting kisses to your breasts. The flame in the pit of your stomach is roaring.
His fingers circle your clit as he torments your chest, a smooth counterpoint to the frissions of pain he creates. It’s divine and he propels you rapidly along to your finish. You’re dripping onto your petticoats now you’re so wet.
You’re panting and bucking against his hands now, too preoccupied by pleasure to be embarrassed at the soft wet sounds coming from his mouth and your pussy. 
“Come on, angel. Can you come for me? I know you can.” You realize he’s cooing at you between kisses. You’re so, so close. 
All it takes is one more harsh tug at your breast and you’re coming, cunt fluttering against Sabo’s hand. He gentles you through it, holding you until the spasms stop. He unties your hands, and pulls you on unsteady legs into his arms as he takes your seat.
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