#garden center au
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
decentsoupperson · 7 months ago
Note
Okay! Garden Centre Au
Adam will be having a baby but you know there has to be drama along the way.
From finding out he's pregnant, to telling Lucifer, to telling other people and well, Alastor.
He doesn't find out until he's 3 months along.
Adam: Why don't my jeans fit!?
The Rose: Maybe there is a seed planted in your garden.~
Adam: The fuck do you mean!?
The rose: I think you knowww
Adam: No, I don't! And if it is what you're implying, what if Lucifer doesn't want it?
The rose: He fucked you for 5 hours straight. And, looking at his porn history, I think he has been trying to get you pregnant for a while.
211 notes · View notes
watertribe-enya · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Adamsappleweek 2024 Day 3 - Garden
Inspired by @things-arent-what-they-seem66 Garden Center AU, in which sinner Adam opens up a garden center in Hell. There he has to deal with Lucifer who is quite enthusiastic about rekindling their relationship, and doesn't understand the meaning of "Get off my lawn!"
@adamsappleweek
140 notes · View notes
itstimeforstarwars · 2 years ago
Text
I was gonna try and use Qui-Gon’s perspective to contrast Obi-Wan and Cody’s perspective, but instead I went off on a two-page tangent about back pain and plants. Alas.
12 notes · View notes
sophbun · 2 years ago
Text
i cant write shit but i just have excessive amounts of hcs and aus that i plan, think about for a week, then plan a new au, so ill probably start posting more of them here 2 get them out of my brain hehe
14 notes · View notes
onceandfutureclotpoll · 9 months ago
Text
Title: Green Thumb
Author: supercalvin
Rating: Teen and up Audiences
Summary: Arthur came into the nursery to look for some plants to liven up the house he had inherited. He had expected to look at some grass, leave, and then buy plants at a local store instead. What he hadn’t expected was a garden that made him feel like he entered a magical land, with a quaint run-down house and a clever green-thumbed owner.
1 note · View note
cloudwisp · 5 months ago
Text
✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)
contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.
꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3
part one here. ꒱
Tumblr media
⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.
⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.
⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.
⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.
⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.
⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.
⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”
⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”
⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”
⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”
⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
thetrueressii · 26 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i fully redid/redesigned the slugcats in my rw anthro au, this took way too long
one day ill have to like properly do a comic or maybe an ask blog for these goobers
the ones with significantly lore/story changes are surv and monk which ill try to summarize a bit below this cut
surv and monk are from a different smaller colony/family than gourmands and only really passed by gourmands colony while they were migrating
surv and monk are generally teenagers when they get separated and lost at some point during this migration and spend most of their teenage years in the wilderness
eventually they find each other and also join up with gourmands colony after yknow finding outer expanse which when gourmand gives surv his title survivor for his pretty crazy feat of survival
in gourmands colony the two are almost treated like heros/celebrities, especially amongst the kids and ESPECIALLY surv
surv feel undeserving of this treatment and is very socially anxious and maladjusted to social living which leads to him appearing either very stoic and collected or just weird
surv is only ever really socially active with his older sister monk and hunter who he connected with much faster with than anyone else (besides monk) due to similar stoic dispositions
surv is a mess lol
monk has handled this much better as she was able to join a scav colony for a period of time (until a certain red slugcat passed by) so shes way more socially adjusted plus shes also older by like give or take 4 to 7 years
she just chills at the outer expanse gardens/farms for the most part and tries to help hunter with their rot in ways they can
if i were to do an ask blog i would either center it around arti, hunter, and saint or surv and monk since those groups have the most story rn
1K notes · View notes
suhtorus · 3 months ago
Text
mama's day. gojo satoru
Tumblr media
fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, non sorcerer au, mom!reader, family fluff, two unnamed sons and one baby girl. a little gift for myself ! ᡣ𐭩
little sunshines au
Tumblr media
satoru has a plan for your birthday—a very detailed one.
step one. wake up the nuggets
it takes him less than two minutes to get the oldest out of bed, and there's really no point in waking up his baby girl since there's not much an eight-month-old can do.
the problem is your toddler.
"c'moooon, don't you wanna give mama her gifts?"
satoru's tone grows exasperated the longer his son refuses to cooperate, kicking his legs and throwing his nemo plushie at his face.
"no!"
the five-year-old immediately shushes his baby brother, only making the latter whine even more, tears now running down his chubby cheeks.
satoru feels his face fall upon seeing his son so upset, he should've expected the little ones not to take it too well to be woken up at six in the morning.
"hey," he tries softly this time, caressing the soft blond hairs of his toddler, "I'm sorry, mochi. can you forgive papa? go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready, okay?"
the sobs end and now there's only small sniffles coming from the sleepy kid.
"oki."
step two. make breakfast
"like this?"
satoru leans down to inspect his son's work, brows furrowing as he tries, and fails, to read whatever gibberish his son tried to spell on top of the freshly made waffles.
with a loud smooch on the kid's cheek, satoru squeezes him in a tight hug, grinning proudly the way a father would. "a masterpiece. mama's gonna love it."
dad and son work surprisingly silent, focused on their own tasks. it doesn't take them long to have plates full of food and fruits, as well as freshly made juice.
"why don't you grab these," satoru hands his son two bags with the names of expensive brands on them, "while I go get your siblings. okay?"
"on it!"
step three. gifts
"happy birthday, mama~"
"ma-ma!"
you wake up with a start, surrounded by four pairs of blue eyes staring down at you.
"happy birthday, love of my life, mother of my kids, my one and only!"
satoru pecks your mouth as your brain processes the beaming faces of your three nuggets. your boys sit next to you, one on each side, while satoru holds the baby in the air right above your face.
your confused face finally eases into one of happiness (and relief).
"thank you, my little babies!" you smile drowsily, urging yourself to blink the sleep away as you smooch the faces of all three of your children. "mwah, mwah, mwahhh–"
your husband can't help but smile upon seeing you smothering the kids with kisses. and with his hold still on his baby girl, satoru tugs her away from you and nods at your lap.
"open your gifts, baby. we got you aaaall of your favorites." he winks at his son and the little one covers his mouth behind his tiny hand, giggling. "and we also made breakfast for mama, right?"
with a pointed look from satoru, your toddler remembers the plate of food on his lap.
"eat waffu, baby." your two-year-old offers you the plate full of waffles, pushing it towards your mouth, insistent. "eat it."
step four. spoil her rotten
your two boys happily run across the gardens while your baby girl crawls on the grass, squealing right behind her brothers.
"liked the surprise?"
your husband's arms wrap around your middle from behind. his hold is the greatest comfort you could've asked for.
"you mean waking up with three of your clones staring down at me while I sleep?" you snort, but there's no real bite in your tone. "I loved it. especially their drawing of me surrounded by blue-eyed mochi."
your eldest had insisted on drawing their little family—with you right in the center—and satoru thought it'd be funny to add the mochi instead of the kids.
"oh, but I'm not done yet, sweetheart." he spins you around in his arms, now grinning at you. "an entire weekend. you and me. what do you say?"
a groan slips past your lips and he immediately frowns, indignation clear on his face.
"c'mon, pretty. it's been a while since it was just the two of us." satoru goes for the puppy eyes, knowing that by doing so he already has a fifty percent of chance of winning. "you're not only a mother, but also a wife. let your doting husband pamper you."
"and who's watching over the kids? the baby??" you try to reason, glancing at your nuggets as they giggle their little hearts out as they play together. "satoru, we can't just leave."
"sweetheart, relaaaaax. ijichi got us covered."
oh, that poor man.
you make a mental note to give nanami a call.
Tumblr media
995 notes · View notes
formulawolff · 21 days ago
Text
america's princess - t.w.
pairing -> popstar!reader x toto wolff
word count -> 3.1k
warnings -> age gap relationship, cursing, slight angst (mostly online hate), toto is completely down bad and would do anything to make reader content, yadayadayada
a/n -> this fic was inspired by this ask! i hope you enjoy this one babe! <3 if you guys enjoy this one, i may consider expanding the au :p
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"it appears that i have one more guest tonight. abel, would you please join me on the stage?"
in that moment, the sound that floods your ears is deafening.
abel tesfaye, also known as the weeknd, strolls onto the stage, bearing a dazzling grin as he approaches you. donning his signature sunnies, he pulls you in close, wrapping you tightly against his chest.
you can barely hear the words as the crowd roars. the flash from the phones is blinding, fans desperate to capture what was to come.
"i am so proud of you, pretty lady."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"th-hank you," your voice falters, threatening of tears as your head swivels, surveying the arena.
never in your life would you have predicted that you would be standing here, performing for a sold out crowd of tens of thousands of people.
people who banded together for one sole purpose.
to watch you perform.
and although you were on the verge of completely coming undone, the humility crashing over you like a tidal wave, you were well aware one thing.
the show must go on.
no matter what.
swiveling on your heel, your fingers curl around the microphone, bringing it to your plush lips, "i think you guys will like this one."
shooting a wink, you hold you breath as darkness swaths the stadium. all around, there are hushed murmurs, brimmed with anticipation. there are a few shouts here and there, but you remain still, your chest heaving as the adrenaline pumps in your veins.
a singular spotlight illuminates the stage, showering you with a silvery glow.
almost as if you were bathing in moonlight.
abel lingers to your left, remaining in place. in your peripheral, you catch him dipping his head, flashing a brief thumbs up.
this was it.
now or never.
as the notes begin, fans scream. in the first few rows, you can make out a band of girls of girls jumping in place, jostling with excitement. never in your life had you seen so many phones raised in the air, each of them pointed at the stage.
"i had a vision," your voice, oh so tantalizing, overcomes the stadium, the crowd growing silent. almost if as they were in a hypnosis, completely and utterly entranced by the scene unfolding before them.
"a vision of my nails in the kitchen. scratching counter tops, i was screaming. my back like arched a. my position couldn't stop you were hitting it
and i shouldn't cry, but i love it, star boy. and i shouldn't cry, but i love it, i love it, star boy."
as you move across the stage, twirling about, abel starts in, maintaining eye contact, raising an arm as he points.
"i just want so see you shine 'cause i know you are a star, girl."
inhaling a breath, you join in, the euphoria only growing more and more intense as it builds in the pit of your stomach.
"i just want to see you shine' cause i know you a star, girl."
with each note hit effortlessly, you finish the song, beaming as the stadium erupts. abel strides toward you, bringing you in for one final embrace before the lights dim. you feel his lips press against your cheek, and he murmurs something you can't quite decipher.
you wish you could make out what he said, you really did.
but you were too busy riding that high.
that feeling that left you buzzing, your fingers and toes trembling as you take a step forward, to the center of the stage. clearing your throat, you scramble to formulate a coherent sentence as the crowd chants, begging for just one more song.
"thank you, new york city. thank you for having me! madison square garden, you will forever be my favorite! from the bottom of my heart, thank you! be safe getting home! and remember to pick up after yourselves! goodnight!"
shifting your body, you begin to exit the stage. your crew flies forward, swarming you with congratulations as the stadium lights fill the venue, affirming the end of the show.
shaking your head, you graciously accept a bottle of water from your manager, nearly downing it. furrowing your brow, you can't help but notice the expression plaguing her features.
"come on hun, let's get you to the dressing room."
"what about abel?"
"we'll call him later," your manager waves a hand, almost dismissing the fact that you just performed with one of the largest artists in the world, "he let me know that he was on a tight schedule anyway. i'm sure he'll have some free time later on."
"are you--"
"i'm sure," she interjects, "come on now, let's go."
as she leads you down the maze of hallways, security in tow, you can't help but sense that there something slightly off. the energy all around was bursting with electricity. yet, it wasn't tense.
it was almost as if she was bursting with a secret she could no longer keep the way her cheeks were dusted pink. it didn't help her case that she was swaying slightly, almost fidgeting.
the walk to the dressing room felt like it was an eternity, the hallways never-ending. it was one turn after another, but you finally made it. however, before you can enter the room, your manager darts forward, her hand wrapping around the knob.
"allow me."
"is everything okay?" your heart is racing, thudding against your rib-cage as she nods, a little too fervently.
pushing the door, the two of you enter the room. however, your manager leaves the door propped open, rather than closing it shut. taking your hand, she almost tugs you toward the array of couches.
"okay! now close your eyes."
pursing your lips, you cock your head, "can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? you're acting really weird. are you sure everything is okay?"
"y-yes! there's just one last surprise for you! and i can't contain it anymore! i'msorrybutijust--"
"what is it?" you press, "you can't just say something like that and not--"
there's a tap on your shoulder, a brassy yet familiar voice rumbling from behind.
"some performance you put on tonight, miene liebe."
spinning on your heel, you nearly collapse at the sight before you.
toto wolff, team principal of mercedes amg petronas, and well, your boyfriend towers over you, an exquisite bouquet in his grasp.
a sob rises in your throat, and you can't help but melt into his arms. scooping you up into his embrace, he nearly crushes you against his chest, a hand cupping the back of your skull. nuzzling into his polo, you catch the scent of his cologne, tears streaming as strands of german roll of his tongue.
"h-how did you get here?"
a chuckle rumbles in his throat, "i pulled some strings. let's just say it was a work perk."
"i'll give you two some privacy," your manager clears her throat, "just text me in you need anything, hun. we'll let you know when it's time to board the bus."
as she darts out of the room, you raise your head, ensuring that the door was closed. toto hangs onto you, his hands beginning to roam. blinking, you almost study him, the realization that he was actually there starting to sink in.
tonight, he was clad in a dark leather jacket, a crisp white polo stretching across his toned chest. as always, he left the first two buttons undone, a chain glittering as it rested against his collarbone. khakis stretch down his legs, the team principal opting for a pair of loafers.
his brunette locks were swept up into their typical messy updo. he wore a silver watch on his wrist, the piece screaming luxury and wealth.
god, he always dressed so simple. but it was classy, put together. the look of a man with status yet graced with humility.
and that was the type of man toto was.
there was no elaborate story on how the two of you met.
you were introduced to toto wolff through a mutual friend.
and that mutual friend was none other than lewis hamilton.
it was a warm weekend in austin. a brand had invited you to attend the united states grand prix. at the time, you were on the uphill slope of your fame. you were a household name, an opener for the 1975. well-known but not large enough to sell out stadiums. it was a unique tour at the time, as your sound was a tad bit moodier, teetering on that line separating alternative and pop.
little did you know, that weekend would change the entire trajectory of your life.
at first, you were apprehensive about attending. you did like formula one, as your dad was a lifelong fan. yet, this was the first time in your life you were presented with the opportunity to not only watch a grand prix, but witness it from the paddock.
it was an offer you could not refuse.
so, naturally you accepted. the only stipulation was that the brand had to provide two more passes. one for not only your dad, but your mom too. they deserved to experience the weekend just as much as you did. after all, they were the reason you existed.
they were the ones who ignited your passion for music. they were the ones who supported you when you were just throwing together tracks in your bedroom.
so, the three of you flew out to austin. in the airport, you received a notification, from instagram. it was a message request. but not just any message request.
a message request from lewis hamilton.
in the message, he expressed his excitement that you were attending the grand prix, as he was a "big fan." he shared that he hoped to get a moment to introduce himself and show you around the mercedes paddock.
what sort of twenty-one year old would refuse that?
as fate would have it, you got your opportunity to meet with lewis. he showed you around the paddock, providing a full, in-depth tour of the garage as well. of course, you were a flustered, giggly mess.
never in your life would you have dreamed that you would be on lewis' arm, cracking jokes with the seven-time world champion.
and that is when you met toto wolff.
that weekend, he was a tad stressed. mercedes was not quite performing to their caliber, and the press was churning out headlines left and right. and with max verstappen completely dominating the track, the dream of another constructor's title was slipping away with each passing day.
the team principal was deeply invested in a conversation with his engineers when this giggle filled his ears. it was airy and light, reminiscent of a summer breeze. it only grew louder and louder, toto figuring that lewis was wooing another model.
however, as she came around the corner, toto realized that he was fucked.
completely and utterly fucked.
you were wearing a pair of light denim jeans, paired with a plain black short sleeve shirt. the material was smooth, hugging your frame in all of the right places. it was slightly cropped, as he could see the soft skin of your abdomen whenever you raised an arm or waved.
your hair was put together in a simple do, one for comfort and long-wear. from where he was, he could pick out the gleam of jewelry, with numerous rings on your fingers. you were wearing a plain pair of shoes, opting for comfort.
you were wearing makeup, the tones and hues accentuating your striking features.
and god, when you turned, facing him, toto swore he was done for.
however, it would be weeks before the team principal could even muster up the courage to ask lewis for your number. well, he had to do some eavesdropping at the grand prix to make sure lewis had your number in the first place. once that was knowledge was secured, he decided to act.
at first, the british driver was intrigued, confused on why his boss wanted his new friend's number. it didn't take very long for lewis to register what was happening. well, the way toto was stuttering and blushing did help.
however, across the ocean, you were working on an ep.
not just any ep.
an ep produced by the weeknd.
following austin, lewis was able to provide you with some connections. who knew that a formula one driver had so much access to the industry? regardless, you were extremely grateful for lewis' help.
and from there, the rest was history.
well, at least the fame.
coined america's princess, it was difficult for toto wolff to avoid you. he saw you nearly everywhere. on social media. in advertisements. at the paddock during race weekends.
since you were so close with lewis, you were starting to make more appearances in the mercedes garage.
which worked out in toto's favor.
although he did have your number saved in his phone, he wanted to get to know you first. the real you, in person. not over text. so whenever he was given the chance, he would strike up a conversation with you in the garage. sometimes he would take an early lunch just so he could catch you in hospitality.
then there was the night in brackley.
during a slight break in your tour, lewis invited you over to brackley for a weekend away in the countryside. you were a little burnt out, aching for some change in scenery. the nights on the bus were growing a little too long. the days were starting to blur together.
you ended up booking the quickest flight overseas, ready to just spend some time away from it all. it only took eleven hours and you were at the mercedes headquarters, laughing harder than you imagined possible. lewis introduced you to george, the two of you hitting it off instantly.
who knew that a popstar and two formula one drivers would be such a good mix?
before you knew it, lewis was suggesting drinks. george was on board, goading you to join them for a few rounds at a local pub about twenty minutes from the headquarters. it would just be a few shots, something to take your mind off things.
one thing lead to another, and you somehow ended up in the passenger seat of toto's luxurious coupe.
well, lewis and george were there too. the team principal did not expect to spend his night babysitting, but it was better than waking up to a tabloid headline in the morning. the team principal drove all three of you straight to his sprawling mansion. he ordered the boys to the guest rooms, while he helped you to his bed.
well, it was more like he carried you to his bed.
he maintained his distance, although every fiber of his being desperately wanted to touch you. to finally relish the softness of your skin. to hold you close. to feel you against him.
he maintained his composure. actually, he was quite proud of himself for keeping it together.
that was until you uttered those four words.
"stay with me, please."
it only took two steps until he was right there in that bed with you, burrowing under the covers so that you could nestle into chest. you fell asleep instantly, your lips parted ever so slightly.
and in that moment, toto had never seen anything so beautiful. so ethereal.
and that was how your relationship started. it was not an easy feat, as social media speculated. fans lurked, attempting to snap photos of you with your mystery man. the internet was full of sleuths, and they went to great lengths to puzzle the pieces together.
of course, there were a few moments in which you both slipped up.
every grand prix was excruciating. you couldn't even be in the same room as toto without the fans spreading wildfire. you had to be careful about what photos you posted. you had to dance around questions in interviews, the reporters desperate to divulge the truth. you were constantly hounded by the public on whether or not you were in a relationship.
who was he? what did he look like? how old was he? what did he do for work? was he in the industry? was it abel? or lewis? the two of you were pretty close. maybe it really was him all this time.
yet, you wouldn't share those private details. not until you were ready. there were people who knew, but it was only a select few. only those in your inner circle.
one day, the world would know who america's princess was dating.
sure, you were ready to share. you were chomping at the bit, actually. you wantd the world to know that you were dating toto wolff, team principal of amg petronas.
but were you ready for the storm that would follow? could you handle all of the press? the accusations on social media? the way people would talk about you?
would you lose your crown?
as you lay your head on his chest, toto's fingers dancing along your jawline, down to your neck, you can't help but shake this nagging sensation.
someone had to have seen toto at the show.
you didn't know who, but someone must have spotted him. there was no way you could miss him.
"something on your mind? you're rather quiet."
his voice breaks through the silence, grounding you back to earth. you shake your head, clearing your throat.
"i'm fine. just tired from the show, that's all. i'm not ready to leave you either."
"i know, my love," toto exhales, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, "we'll be together soon. only a few more weeks."
as the words fade in your ear, there's a ding on the table. licking your lips, you sit up, reaching for your phone. it was more than likely a text from your manager, or a message from your mom congratulating you on the concert.
however, as the screen lights up, your jaw goes slack, the phone nearly sliding out of your grasp.
it was a notification from X, several of them actually.
your fingers tremble as your eyes scan over the post. sensing your distress, toto straightens up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"what's going on? tell me what's -- oh fuck."
the post was a photo of the two of them. it was grainy, but it was no use. all of the evidence was there.
it was a photo of the two of you after a night out. a series, actually. you couldn't quite distinguish where you were, but you could make out that it was you. with him.
your bodies intertwined, back against the passenger door of his car. one hand was shoved underneath your shirt, the other wrapped around the base of your neck, the world crumbling away as your mouth found his.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
446 notes · View notes
soov · 2 months ago
Text
RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.
Tumblr media
“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”
The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.
“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.
Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.
As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”
“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.
“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”
“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”
“Even with the rumours?”
Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.
In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.
With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”
The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.
You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.
“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”
“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.
You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.
“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”
There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.
The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.
With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.
A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.
His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.
“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”
Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the man felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”
“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.
He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”
And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.
Tumblr media
𔓕 LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real (work inspired by mr. queen!)
2024 © SOOV
572 notes · View notes
decentsoupperson · 8 months ago
Note
You know what's for to think about for the Garden Centre Au?
That the plants feelings towards Lucifer change when Adams feelings change and he allows himself to fall a little bit for him.
Omg yeah
Lucifer walking into the garden center
Plant A: Awe there he is
Plant B: That tophat looks great
Plant C: Invite me to the wedding!
74 notes · View notes
human-monodam · 3 months ago
Text
Event: Demon Tree
{A fellow up from the story event}
*Everything's going crazy. People have begun attacking each other at random like wild animals, Cars were crashing into everything, large tree roots were sticking out of the ground all around, and the sky was blood red. All the while, a massive tree sits at the center of the chaos that spreads. What's going on? What's happening to this world? Can you survive the chaos?*
@themultiverseheroines @oddblogfullofoddmuses @puc-rewrite @perfect-bloodcovered-family @ultimate-disinterest
@notsobloody-wrenchs @d4y-0f-judg3m3nt @shslarchivist @rxnowned-vxmpire-hxnter @master-detective-archives
@candy-cocktail @mxfia-kingpins @obsolete-journalist @my-ultimate-academia @anemoacedia
@the-shy-pony @mystery-orphans-club @virtuoso-lies @yui-samidare-reborn @c-o-r-e
@ultimate-investagter-graduate @thehypnoticsnakedomain @ask-kuro-twins @fangedandfurious
@dreamyandkikimora @hoshi-neko-hikari @ichi-peachy @harmonious-hunting
@restoringhopeau @morals-and-florals @ask-ultimate-personas @seven-crimes-and-punishments @junko-enoshima-ii
@hopes-memorial @warriors-of-no-hope @your-divine-priestess @ask-the-ultimate-cosplayer @ask-the-ultimate-matchmaker
@beyondteyvat(Hu Tao, Zhongli, Raiden Shogun, Sara Kujou, Furina, and/or Neuvillette) @paw-prints-on-your-heart @ask-emma-magorobi @edens-garden-au
421 notes · View notes
decentsoupperson · 6 months ago
Text
LET'S GOOOOO
Quick update!
Alastor gets his just desserts and a little fluff.
@decentsoupperson
15 notes · View notes
luviestarz · 1 year ago
Text
yang jungwon fic recs!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
★ the language of flowers - @soobnny (jungwon’s just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its owner’s grandson finds solace in you.)
★ GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST - @snowbabys (you heard jungwon isn’t one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and it’s not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.)
★ ❣︎ ⎯⎯ you’re mine . - @goldenhypen
★ infrunami - @jennaissantes (PROMPT: ‘fixing their tie’)
★ LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU - @hanniluvi (BREAKING NEWS! valentine’s is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didn’t think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where you’ll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints you’ve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. there’s no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe it’s just fake or actual love news?)
★ ADMIRING YOU ! - @hanniluvi (You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma café. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?)
★ nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw - @delcakoo (when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…)
★ scaring a guy away - @delcakoo
★ cat boy - @jaeyunverse (yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.)
★ i’m your cat, meow - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (in which jungwon is jealous of a cat)
★ classmate au | yang jungwon - @soobnny
★ Baked with Love - @demusewriter (You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place.)
★ in my head - yjw - @j1nniee (you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.)
★ A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART - @snwpcktz (the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?)
★ ⌗ attractive things jungwon does ⨾ - @aakomii
★ super shy - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (jungwon isn’t used to having company when he’s studying - especially when the company is one of the most popular girls in school)
★ ♡𓂃 START NOW ! - @loveywon (you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in.)
3K notes · View notes
locomoqo · 2 months ago
Text
flowery whispers
— goo kim x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: In a kingdom full of secrets and strict rules, the Empress starts to feel a connection with her playful royal guard, Goo. What begins as small moments and quiet exchanges slowly grows into something deeper, though neither of them dares to say it out loud. Until one night, the constant pressure finally makes one of them crack.
details: NSFW content, afab reader, historical au (specifically joseon dynasty), bodyguard trope, infidelity, p in v sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), brief mention of masturbation
wc: 6.2k whew
a/n: i am putting all the blame on all the historical kdrama ive been watching + bridgerton + bodyguard goo brainrot WHOOPIEEE there's a gun or maybe even jake fic forming in my head as i was writing this but hey save that for another time ppl are waiting for their reqs
if you liked this, pls reblog with your like, tyyy mwa mwa!
and ofc i cant forget to tag my gorgeous mutual @jonggunkitten
Tumblr media
The Empress. 
A title you would never have expected to bear. Your family, ever ambitious, had pushed you into the emperor’s selection, hoping to gain even more power than they already possessed. Poor child, a victim of your family’s relentless hunger for influence. Yet, you still remember how your mother had cradled your face so gently before you left, whispering praises and wishes for your success. Against the odds, you passed the selection and became one of the emperor’s consorts. You would have been satisfied with such a position, even considered yourself lucky to have reached that far. But it wasn’t over.
With your new position came the brutal competition to become the empress. Unlike the other consorts, you had no desire for the role and instead kept to yourself, spending days in the library, doing embroidery, or walking in the garden. You found these “glorified” days as a consort increasingly mundane.
Ironically, your actions—or lack thereof—seemed to intrigue the emperor. He arranged private meetings, allowing you to know him better, only for you to find him… lacking. A self-centered, somewhat dim-witted man, the emperor relied almost exclusively on his advisors' counsel. He would crack jokes, and though you didn’t find them particularly amusing, the other consorts would laugh enthusiastically. Nevertheless, the competition ended with the emperor declaring you as his empress.
Normally, one would rejoice, perhaps even celebrate, at such news. But you felt no such thrill—instead, a sense of dread crept into your stomach. Though the emperor was not a bad man, becoming Empress brought on responsibilities you weren’t prepared to shoulder. You knew that soon, the court would pressure you about an heir. And no matter your own feelings, the emperor was equally persistent in his desire for a child.
You tried, half-heartedly at best, yet no child came. Soon, even your minimal efforts turned to nothing. It was then that the royal physician was summoned, and one dreaded word hung in the air after his examination.
Infertile.
One word, yet it changed everything.
You lay in bed that night, clutching the blankets tightly as the word “infertile” repeated in your mind. Rumors spread fast in the palace, of course. You could feel the scrutinizing stares from advisors and hear the hushed whispers from the other consorts. Rumors circulated that the emperor was considering replacing you with someone who could provide an heir.
Then, as if your troubles weren't enough, your father visited, but not with comfort. Instead, he gave you a scolding, his gaze filled with cold disappointment, an expression that lingered in your mind long after he left. Exhausted and stifled by these thoughts, you threw the covers off, dressed in a light robe, and decided to take a walk under the night sky. The moon shone brightly, casting its silvery glow over the earth—a good night for a walk, you thought.
You navigated the palace grounds carefully, avoiding guards and servants, not wanting anyone to stop you. Eventually, you found yourself in the palace gardens, a familiar refuge. The air felt cool against your skin, and you drifted toward the pond, noting how much livelier the garden appeared compared to your last visit. Lotus flowers bloomed on the water’s surface, and you crouched down, gently touching one of the petals.
“At least one of us looks lively,” you murmured to the flower, watching your reflection in the water. “What am I doing, talking to flowers?” you chortled to yourself, straightening up. “They’ll call me mad next.” You could imagine the servants gossiping if they caught you conversing with plants.
A sudden rustling made you turn, spotting a blond tabby cat slipping out from the bushes. It padded across the stone wall, pausing to look at you. With a glance over your shoulder, you made sure no one else was around before softly approaching the cat.
“Good evening,” you greeted the cat, immediately wincing at how silly it sounded. “Or, I mean, hello there.” The cat continued to stare at you. “Off somewhere, are you? Somewhere better than here?” you asked, almost answering your own question. The cat let out a soft meow.
“Oh, me? I’m...busy with matters, as usual—mostly with babies,” you mumbled, feeling a slight pang of irony in your words.
The cat meowed again, watching intently.
“Does it get tiring? Well, it certainly does.”
Another meow.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but... I don’t even know what to do anymore.”
The cat meowed again, and you nodded as if it understood. “Running away, you say?” you laughed quietly. “As if I could. They’d have my head. And my family would be dragged down with me.” You paused, a spark of rebellion igniting. “But what if… what if I faked my death? I could stage it—leave behind some blood, tattered clothes… they’d think I’d been killed. I’d be free.” You whispered the words as if saying them aloud made it more plausible.
The cat tilted its head, seemingly judging your plan. You scowled playfully. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a good plan,” you muttered, testing the vines to see if they might hold your weight.
“Sounds awfully impulsive.”
“It’s not—” You froze, instantly releasing the vine. Patting down your skirts, you slowly turned to see a tall, blond man standing behind you, a smirk on his face. Recognition flickered—you’d seen him before among the emperor’s personal guards.
“Your majesty,” he greeted, his tone far too casual for someone addressing the empress. “It’s a bit late for a walk, don’t you think?”
His informal tone surprised you. Struggling to find words and maintain composure, you finally spoke. “I—I was only…surveying the garden. Yes, making sure the gardener is up to standard.” You straightened, hoping to maintain an air of authority.
“Right. Because inspecting vines is vital at this hour.” He only grinned wider. He chuckled, bowing slightly. “Ah, where are my manners? Junggoo Kim, one of his majesty’s personal guards.” His introduction was polite, but the mischievous glint in his eyes made you wary.
“Junggoo…” you muttered, still thrown by his demeanor.
“Goo, if you’d like,” he added, seemingly oblivious to any formalities.
The thought that he’d overheard you talking to a cat—or worse, discussing escape plans—made your face heat up. “You won’t… tell the emperor, will you?” you asked cautiously. His grin widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, your majesty. Consider it our little secret.”
You stared at him for a moment, suspicion creeping in. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I have nothing to gain by exposing you. Treason doesn’t suit me, plus I’d hate to be painted in such a negative light in the eyes of my empress.” He held up his hands in a show of innocence. Reluctantly, you nodded, brushing past him. “I should get back then, before anyone else sees me.” You tried to sound dignified, but he easily kept pace beside you.
“Going so soon?” he quipped, feigning disappointment.
“Why are you following me?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.
“It’s part of my duty to guard the royal family, not just his majesty,” he replied smoothly.
You shot him a sidelong glare. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much. We’re within palace grounds; there’s hardly any danger.”
He shrugged, that amused glint still in his eyes. “Oddly confident, aren’t you, your majesty?”
“And you’re oddly informal,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.
With exaggerated dramatics, he clutched his heart as if wounded. “My sincerest apologies.”
After a few moments, you arrived back at your chambers. Turning to face him, you found him still smiling, that same relaxed, teasing expression. “Apology accepted,” you said coolly, stepping into your room. The door closed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the odd encounter. He was, indeed, an odd man.
It wouldn’t be the last time you’d meet him. Just a few weeks later, the court held another meeting regarding updates, and yet again, you dreaded it. They could be discussing far more important topics—like addressing the needs of people in the nation’s more remote regions—but instead, the focus was on you. Heir this, heir that; it was as if they saw you as nothing more than a child-bearing machine. All the endless chatter made you excuse yourself from the meeting, eager to escape the countless prying eyes.
That night, you found yourself back in the garden, attempting, once more, to assess the climb.
"Checking the vines again, your majesty?" A voice rang out, making you flinch before quickly turning around. But you relaxed at the sight of Goo standing there once again.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, suspicion and confusion evident in your tone.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he chuckled, stepping closer, but with a respectful distance.
After a moment’s pause, you finally replied, “...Yes, I’m checking the vines again.” You glanced back at the wall, feeling a bit foolish. He hummed thoughtfully.
“Well, your majesty, if you ever need help with gardening, I could lend a hand—I may know a thing or two.” He offered with a wink, his grin widening as you rolled your eyes.
“Gardening doesn’t seem to be part of a guard’s duty. Or is it an interest of yours?” you teased, plucking a dry leaf from a vine.
"Neither," he replied with a shrug, which only made you smile more. "But you see a pretty thing struggling, you’d offer to help, wouldn’t you?”
“You don’t seem like the type to help people,” you noted, eyeing him with a smirk.
“Normally, I’d charge them for my assistance,” he said nonchalantly.
"So if I were to ask for your help, you’d charge me, too?”
“I’d make an exception,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh, bringing a hand to cover your mouth.
“Oh, I’m serious!” he insisted, trying to feign offense. “Business is business!”
The more you laughed, the more you saw his exaggerated pout, and you dabbed the corners of your eyes with your sleeve. “Aren’t royal guards supposed to be loyal to the family?”
“Not all guards fit that description,” he said, watching you with a curious glint in his eye.
“Do you realize how much trouble you’d be in if this conversation reached his majesty?” you whispered, leaning in.
“Are you going to tell him?” he challenged, leaning in just as closely. “...No,” you whispered back, and his satisfied grin made your stomach flutter. "Since we both seem to have secrets," he suggested, “how about we consider each other… acquaintances?"
You raised an eyebrow, amused by his straightforwardness. “Acquaintances, huh?”
“Sure, I could lend you an ear, or a hand. Maybe even a knife,” he quipped, his casual shrug somehow sincere.
“You’re a peculiar man,” you observed with a shake of your head. “Are you even meant to be in the inner circle of the royal guards?”
Goo gasped, putting a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. “You wound me, your majesty! I’ll have you know, I am very proficient in martial arts and fiercely loyal to—” he paused, “...my duty.”
“The family?” you pressed.
“Protecting the family, not necessarily the family itself,” he replied, his expression unreadable.
You raised both eyebrows. “Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the king’s quarters?”
“Not my shift,” he answered simply. A beat of silence stretched between you both.
“So, what do you say? Wouldn’t you like to spill all your woes to someone?” he offered, leaning against the wall with a smirk. You considered it. It wasn’t such a bad idea, really; inside the palace, there was barely anyone to talk to—not even your personal servants. “Are you trying to gain something out of this?” you asked, studying his face.
“Must every relationship be transactional?” he retorted, feigning injury once more.
“You’re the one who mentioned business earlier,” you reminded him.
“I already told you—I’d make an exception,” he said, both hands placed on his chest as if to prove his innocence. His antics were so out of place here in the palace, more fitting for a comedian than a guard. Perhaps that was why he felt oddly safe.
“Well then,” you relented, “I’ll think about it.” You glanced toward the palace. “Now, it’s time for me to get back to my room.” You heard his footsteps fall in line beside you. “And I suppose you’ll be escorting me?”
“Part of my duty.” He shrugged, flashing you another one of his mischievous smiles.
And, from that moment on, you noticed his presence everywhere. Whether it was outside the emperor’s quarters or by the entrance to the court meetings, there he’d be, flashing you that same, all-too-familiar grin. Over time, his presence became a quiet comfort, something warm in the midst of the palace’s frigid decorum.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you made your way to the garden—only to find him already there. Smoothing your clothes, you cleared your throat. “You beat me to my own spot.”
“Gut feeling told me you’d be around here tonight, your majesty,” he replied, turning to face you. “Here to inspect the garden again? Still not up to your standards?”
You shook your head, a small smile forming on your lips. “No, I came looking for someone willing to lend an ear,” you admitted. “Or maybe a hand.”
“Or a knife?” he added, his quiet chuckle warming the cool evening air.
You laughed softly. “Yes, something like that.”
"Alright, I’m all yours. What’s on your mind?” he asked, his gaze softening as he watched you.
Sitting down on a nearby stone bench, you glanced at him before finally speaking. “Do you ever feel… trapped in your own skin?” The question came out softer than you intended, your hands clenched tightly in your lap. You let out a humorless laugh, “Of course you wouldn’t,” you added quickly, glancing down.
“Go on,” he encourages, his gaze steady on you, hanging onto your every word. His casual posture is contrasted by the intensity in his eyes as if he’s seeing through every layer you keep hidden.
You take a deep breath and continue, venting out the weight you’ve carried since becoming empress. “They’re calling me infertile!” you say, frustration and bitterness lacing your words. “It’s not even official, but you know how the court operates. The moment the physician spoke, the rumors took root. To them, his word is as good as the truth,” you finish with a defeated sigh, burying your face in your hands.
“Funny,” he muses with a bluntness that makes you peek out from between your fingers, “I always thought it was the emperor who had… issues.”
The statement makes you lift your head abruptly, staring at him. “What?”
He shrugs, looking off to the side as though he’s recalling something from memory. “I heard one of the physicians say there might be… something wrong with him.” His tone is casual, almost as if retelling a trivial story. But you know better; there’s something in his voice that hints at sincerity.
Rendered speechless, you just stare. He takes a step closer, studying you with an intensity that feels unsettling but comforting. “A theory,” he says, “is just a fancy way of saying a guess, don’t you think?” With gentle confidence, he places a finger under your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “You’re the empress. You know your own worth. Why let them talk down to you?”
His words, laced with a playful smile, bring a faint blush to your cheeks. Embarrassed, you turn your head away, making him raise both hands in mock surrender. “Apologies, your majesty,” he offers, though there’s little sincerity in his tone. If anything, the glint in his eye suggests he’s thoroughly amused.
From that night on, a subtle yet undeniable bond begins to form between you. You seek him out, not just as a confidant but as someone who truly understands you beyond your title. He becomes your solace, the one constant amidst the coldness of palace life. And he’s there, unwavering, standing by your side as though he’s known you far longer than the palace walls would ever allow.
Goo feels himself teetering on the edge of a line he knows he shouldn’t cross. In truth, he suspects he’s already overstepped it. You may not realize it, but he’s been curious about you for a while now. He’s never given much thought to the royal family—until you arrived in the picture.
His first encounter with you in the garden left a lingering impression, an unexpected warmth stirring within him. At first, he brushed it off as pity, something any decent person would feel for someone in your position. But when the second encounter came, and you smiled at him, it took him off guard. Had he ever seen you smile before? He didn't think so.
After that, he couldn’t help but notice more about you—the way your eyes carried a hidden sadness, the elegance with which you held yourself even under the constant pressure. And when you began confiding in him, sharing your burdens, he couldn’t stop himself from caring. Oh, you poor thing, he thought to himself. Such a beautiful soul wasting your tears on someone as undeserving as the emperor. He knew of the rumors too, the whispers that floated through the halls as he passed the other consorts, women murmuring about how you’d lost your worth, how you’d be replaced soon. The emperor would be a fool to discard someone like you, but it wasn’t his place to decide that. Yet, he couldn’t shake his resentment toward the man, or the anger he felt for those who dared to insult you.
Goo knew he should keep his distance, staying within the boundaries of his duty, but it wasn’t easy. As much as he tried, his thoughts would drift to you in moments of solitude. And that was when he found himself in dangerous territory, unable to keep the rising emotions at bay. Despite knowing better, he let his imagination wander, fingers tracing along the growing need in his undergarments. He closed his eyes, your face in his mind, his hand moving in rhythm as he pictured you. Curses mixed with murmurs of your name escaped his lips as he imagined it was your touch that brought him pleasure, not his own. The thought of you, his empress, haunted him in ways he couldn’t control.
Then, one evening, it happened. 
The moonlight filtered softly through the silk curtains of your chambers as you sat by the window, lost in thought. Goo had been by your side for long now, his loyalty unwavering, his presence strangely comforting. But the more you let yourself linger in his warmth, the more dangerous it became—for both of you.
When you heard the quiet creak of your door, you knew it was him. He’d been on duty outside, and no doubt, he’d noticed your mood the moment he’d seen your expression that evening.
“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was as light and easy as ever, yet there was a softness there, a familiarity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, managing a small smile. “Goo… maybe it’s best if you’re not seen coming here so often. People are starting to notice.”
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with a faint smirk, his blond hair catching the moonlight. “You’re worried about me? That's a first.”
“I’m serious, Goo.” You stood, folding your hands tightly to keep from reaching for him. “If they see us together this often, people will start talking. The emperor… he won’t be merciful if he thinks there’s reason to doubt my loyalty.”
Goo’s smirk faded, his expression growing serious. “Let them talk. It's not like I've ever cared for all the mindless rumors.”
“Your job is to protect the emperor, not…” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, knowing how much it revealed. But the unspoken words hung between you, charged with the tension you’d both been avoiding.
He took a slow step forward, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “Not what? Get close to you? Be around you, care about you? If that’s what you’re afraid of, then maybe I’m not the one who should be pulling away.”
“Goo…” you whispered, the plea in your voice as much for him as it was for yourself. But he wasn’t listening. He took another step closer, the air between you crackling with unspoken words, unvoiced desires.
“Do you think I care about the risks?” His voice was low, the usual humor stripped away, leaving only raw determination. “If the emperor’s men come for me, so be it. I’ll face a thousand of them, you know I can hold up in a fight just fine.”
“Then you’re a fool,” you murmured, but your words wavered, betraying the emotions you’d fought so hard to keep hidden.
You looked at him with a vulnerability that pulled him in, and he felt his restraint slipping. You were close, so close that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in. It was just a kiss—soft, tentative, barely there. But the taste of your lips was unlike anything he’d ever felt, a whisper of heaven he hadn’t known he could touch. For a moment, he understood why people lose themselves in loyalty to nobility.
The kiss was never spoken of, but it became the unspoken acknowledgment of something deeper. Afterward, you part with a soft kiss to his cheek, and he bids you goodbye with a kiss to the back of your hand. It’s dangerous, he knows that. It’s wrong. But he couldn’t help himself; with each stolen moment, each quiet meeting, his longing grew. He knew he was being greedy, wanting what he shouldn’t, yet he couldn’t ignore the desire building inside him—the desire to want you entirely for himself.
One evening, he found you crying. You sat in your room, your face buried in your hands, tears staining your cheeks. His heart ached at the sight, and he moved toward you without thinking. Crouching beside you, he gently lifted your chin, making you look at him.
“It’s my parents,” you whispered, voice shaking. “They came to visit, and… it didn’t go well. It feels like they see me as the problem—as if everything wrong stems from me when, for all they know, it could be the emperor who’s to blame.” You let out a quiet sob, a broken sound that made something snap inside him.
Without a second thought, he cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that kept falling. 
There’s a brief silence before he speaks, his gaze steady, softened in a way that’s rare for him. “All this talk about duty and expectations…” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lifts, trailing softly along your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the moment. “If it were up to me, I’d tell you to let it all go. To do whatever makes you happy.”
You feel your heart catch at his words, your breath hitching. “What would you have me do, then?” you ask, voice barely audible.
“Simple,” he says, his lips curving into a hint of a smile, one hand moving to rest on the curve of your waist. “You’d just… stay here. Let someone else worry about it all for once.” He leans in, close enough that his breath mingles with yours. “Forget all those rules, let go of every plan and just… be here.”
There’s a beat of silence, thick and heavy, his thumb tracing gentle circles along your cheek. “Goo…” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in, mingling with the warmth that’s building between you.
“Besides,” he murmurs, his tone teasing yet low, almost reverent. “Who’d dare to question the Empress herself? If there’s any risk to be taken, let it be mine.” His voice grows softer as his fingers slide to rest along your jaw, cradling your face. “Just say the word.”
Your heart races at the promise in his words, his gaze unwavering as the distance between you vanishes. His lips hover just a breath away as he gently guides you to lay back.
A shiver runs through you, the deliberate slowness of his touch sending thrills down your spine. You exhale softly, the weight of his palm grounding you as his fingers trace the edge of your jeogori’s collar, lingering as if memorizing every fold of the fabric.
His thumb dips beneath the edge, nudging it back so it slips from your shoulders, revealing a sliver of skin. His breath hitches—a subtle, almost imperceptible reaction—but it’s enough to make your pulse flutter. His gaze darkens, roaming over the exposed skin as his fingers trace your contours, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
“You’re quiet,” he whispers, his tone carrying a subtle challenge. “Empress.”
The faintest smile tugs at your lips, a spark of daring stirring within you. “And you talk too much,” you counter softly, placing your hand over his and guiding it lower. His thumb brushes over your fingers in a silent, mutual agreement.
He chuckles lowly, his face so close that his nose brushes against yours. “You’re right,” he murmurs, his lips hovering a breath away, close enough for you to feel their warmth. “I could show you better than I could tell you…”
His hand cups your breast, his head lowering to capture the sensitive peak of the other in his mouth. His thumb teases one while his tongue flicks over the other, attention divided yet equally intoxicating. Your fingers tangle in his hair and clutch his shoulders, soft moans escaping you.
He pulls back, his lips leaving heated trails as he begins to nip at your skin. A gasp escapes you when he bites down, harder this time. “Goo!” you whisper, smacking his shoulder lightly.
“What?” he grins, unabashed. “I can’t leave marks where they’ll see, so I might as well make the most of what I can, right?”
You roll your eyes, leaning back against the cushions. “Don’t be like that,” he purrs, pressing kisses lower with every movement. His hands glide down your sides, fingers gripping your hips gently. He pauses, eyes lifting to meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, your lips pressed into a small line as you watch him disappear between your legs.
The guilt and worry gnawing at you seem to vanish the moment he lowers his head. His warm breath brushes your folds before his tongue flattens against you, licking slow, deliberate stripes. A shaky breath escapes you as he savors you, his groan vibrating against your skin as he slurps at your arousal.
His tongue delves into you, mapping every sensitive part of your cunt with unhurried precision. The mix of his mouth and fingers—one sliding into you, then two—leaves you breathless. Your hips move on their own, grinding against his face. His eyes flick up to yours, satisfaction gleaming as he watches every gasp, every moan, every sign of pleasure that is his doing. His empress, shattering apart before him. It drives him to give you more. He needs more.
Your hand grips his hair as you whimper, “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your legs tighten around his head, and you feel his grin against your core before he presses a kiss to your clit, devouring you whole. It’s dizzying, overwhelming, everything all at once. His tongue and fingers work in harmony, unraveling you until you come undone, your juices spilling over his taste buds.
Goo pulls away, licking your release from the corner of his lips. You pull his face to yours, your mouths crashing together, tasting yourself on him.
“Under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to hear you,” he mumbles against your lips.
You hum, a soft smile tugging at your mouth. “That is called greed,” you tease, your hands eagerly tugging at his clothes.
“What you’re doing is called greed,” he counters with a grin, his lips finding your neck as he helps shed his garments. Once bare, he meets your gaze, vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “You… you’re absolutely sure about this?”
Your hands cup his face as you nod. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
He searches your eyes for a moment before kissing you again. Lining himself up with your entrance, he moves slowly, the stretch pulling soft moans from your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your eyes flutter open, meeting the all-too-familiar ceiling—the one you’d rather not remember tonight.
“Wait—wait,” you whisper, tapping his shoulder. He pauses, brows raising in question.
“Just…” you adjust, shifting to straddle him. “Better,” you say, a smile on your lips as you begin to move.
He lets out a soft groan, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. “Better,” he agrees, his voice reverent as your walls embrace him, squeezing deliciously around him. His hips rise to meet yours, each motion driving you both closer to the edge.
Your rhythm quickens, every glide of your hips igniting sparks between you. Goo’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingertips digging into your flesh, guiding you as if the two of you were caught in a dance—one where neither of you wanted to stop.
“Just like that,” he rasps, his voice low and strained, betraying the control he’s barely holding onto. His eyes are locked on you, watching the way your body moves, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the flush of your skin. The sight alone sends a bolt of heat straight through him, and he can’t resist the urge to lift his hips sharply, filling you even deeper.
A startled moan escapes your lips, and his grin turns wicked. “Sensitive, aren’t you, your majesty?”
You lean forward, pressing your palms to his chest, your hair cascading over your shoulders like a curtain. “Quiet,” you murmur, breathless, though the command lacks any real bite. The way he fills you, moves with you, unravels you, leaves no room for authority—only the pull of desire.
Goo’s hands slide up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you down for a kiss. It’s desperate, devouring, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before his tongue sweeps inside, claiming you. He swallows your soft cries, his groans vibrating against your lips as he matches your movements with a feral need.
“Look at you,” he murmurs between kisses, his gaze burning into yours. “So beautiful like this, like you were made for me.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, a fire pooling low in your belly. Your thighs tremble, the pressure building inside you threatening to overwhelm. “Goo…” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.
“Don’t hold back,” he urges, his hands sliding back to your hips, gripping them tightly as he takes control of your movements, driving you down harder, faster. “I want all of it—all of you.”
Your head tips back, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. His lips find the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing as your body trembles against his. He feels you tighten around him, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.
“That’s it,” he groans, his voice rough and strained. “Just let go for me.”
And you do. Your release crashes over you, leaving you gasping as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Goo holds you steady, his own movements growing erratic as he chases his release. His grip on you tightens, a string of curses falling from his lips as he thrusts one last time, spilling into you with a shuddering groan.
You collapse against him, your body trembling, your breaths mingling in the heated air between you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close as if shielding you from the world beyond this moment.
For a while, there’s only silence—the sound of your heartbeats slowing, the weight of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” Goo finally murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement but softened by something deeper.
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Me? Dangerous?” you ask, a tired smile tugging at your lips.
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re the Empress who just brought her guard to his knees,” he says, his voice low, teasing. “Tell me that’s not dangerous.”
You laugh softly, resting your head against his chest. “Then you must be reckless for indulging me.”
His hand traces lazy patterns along your back, his lips brushing your temple. “For you? Always.”
You close your eyes, letting the world outside this room fade away, just for now. The guilt and pressures can wait. Here, wrapped in his arms, you’re simply you.
Tumblr media
Goo hums as he polishes his sword, tilting it this way and that, even admiring his reflection in the blade. “What a handsome devil,” he muses, grinning at himself.
“Junggoo,” a voice cuts through his musings, calm but sharp.
Goo jumps theatrically, clutching at his chest like he’s been scared to death. “Gun! You trying to kill me?” he exclaims, glancing over his shoulder at the raven-haired man now standing at the door.
Gun doesn’t bother with a response, only rolling his eyes at the dramatics. “You’ve been reassigned,” he says bluntly.
Goo blinks, lowering his sword as his grin falters. “Reassigned?” he echoes, slowly standing, his lips already parting to protest. But Gun raises a hand, silencing him with a pointed look.
“Let me finish,” Gun says curtly, and Goo wisely shuts his mouth. “As I was saying, you’ve been reassigned to Her Majesty, the Empress.” Gun continues, his tone steady.
At this, Goo visibly relaxes, letting out a relieved sigh. “Oh, I thought—” He pauses mid-sentence, the words registering in his head. His eyes widen. “Wait. You’re serious?”
Gun gives a single, affirming nod. “General Choi’s orders.”
Goo’s grin slowly returns, and he’s already stepping forward, arms spread wide as if to embrace Gun. The latter narrows his eyes, and Goo halts immediately, retreating with a sheepish chuckle.
“Why the sudden change, though?” Goo asks, his tone genuine with curiosity.
Gun folds his arms across his chest, his expression unreadable. “Since Her Majesty is with child, General Choi believes she requires more… specialized security.”
Goo raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Specialized? I’m flattered.”
Gun tilts his head slightly, observing Goo in that unnervingly meticulous way he always does. Then, with no warning, he takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “That child is yours, isn’t it?”
Goo freezes, though only for a fraction of a second. “What child? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deflects, his tone light, his smirk firmly in place. “If anything—”
“You don’t have to act coy around me,” Gun interrupts, his gaze unwavering. “You think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes linger on Her Majesty longer than necessary? Or the smiles you two exchange when you think no one’s watching?”
Goo inwardly sighs, scratching the back of his neck. Nothing ever escapes Gun’s notice. “What’s it to you?” he says casually, though there’s a faint edge to his voice.
“Answer the question,” Gun presses, his tone leaving no room for evasion.
For a moment, Goo says nothing. He takes a step back, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he places his hands behind his back. Finally, he meets Gun’s gaze and offers a silent answer, one that needs no words.
Gun doesn’t react outwardly, his arms remaining folded, his expression as stoic as ever. “And how do you plan to handle this?”
Goo blinks, caught slightly off guard. “You mean…?” he gestures vaguely to his hair.
Gun pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling in exasperation. “Yes, that,” he mutters.
“We’ll call it a blessing,” Goo replies with a shrug, his smirk returning. “Besides, he’s going to die soon, isn’t he?”
Gun narrows his eyes, his tone shifting to suspicion. “And what does his death have to do with the child?”
“Our dearest Empress would be the sole ruler,” Goo says smoothly, his tone almost reverent. “You’ve seen how sharp she is. No one would dare challenge her authority.”
Gun’s expression remains neutral, though his silence prompts Goo to continue.
“Meaning no one would dare question the child’s legitimacy either,” Goo adds, his smirk now tinged with something darker, more calculated. He takes a step closer, placing a hand on Gun’s shoulder, his grip firm but deceptively casual. “And besides…”
His grin widens, playful yet faintly menacing. “I’ll be there to make sure no one does.”
Gun stares at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening slightly, but he says nothing.
“Now, my dear friend,” Goo says, clapping Gun’s shoulder before stepping back. “Don’t you worry your head about me. You’ve got bigger fish to fry, haven’t you?”
Gun’s gaze sharpens momentarily before he exhales and turns to leave. Goo watches him go, his smirk never wavering, but his eyes glint with something far more dangerous.
As the door closes, Goo picks up his sword again, admiring his reflection in the blade. “Ah, such exciting times ahead,” he murmurs to himself, his grin widening as he hums a tune, the weight of impending chaos settling comfortably on his shoulders.
Tumblr media
294 notes · View notes
bellalunadreams · 9 months ago
Text
Merlin Cinderella au 🫣
I’m not good at writing but, I think it would be really cute to have a Cinderella au with everything being the same (setting and Arthur being the prince wise)
It would take place when Merlin just comes to Camelot, and instead of living in the castle, Gauis has a house/healing center in the lower town.
I don’t think the evil stepmother and sisters would come into play. But it would just be Merlin coming to Camelot like in the show and becoming quick friends with people in the kingdom (huge ‘everyone loves Merlin’ believer)
Uthur wants Arthur to marry to continue the bloodline and to secure him as next in line to rule. So he holds a ball for all eligible (noble) suitors in the kingdom (suspended disbelief of Uthurs possible bigotry 💀)
Merlin wants to go cause he thinks it’ll be fun but he can’t since he’s not a noble. He goes looking through Gauis’s old magic books to find a spell to change his appearance and accidentally summons a fairy godmother.
He gets his disguise but it’ll only last till midnight so he makes the most of it and causes as much mischief as possible, when else is he ever gonna get an opportunity to get into the castle and get away with anything he wants with no repercussions? (No one will recognize him 😈)
Arthur is overwhelmed with everyone practically throwing themselves at him so he gets away to the gardens( or something of that sort)
There he spots Merlin setting up a prank or something. He questions what he’s doing and Merlin says something like “are you a snitch?”
Merlin and Arthur proceed to pull pranks on a bunch of the nobles and Arthur has the time of his life for the first time in forever. Merlin doesn’t treat him like the prince, he treats him like just some guy and Arthur loves it.
They settle down back in the gardens with them both in a fit of laughter after their last joke. One of them makes a comment about having not danced the entire night. With the overbearing music of the hall muffled by the quiet of the garden, they dance together under the moonlight.
Arthur makes a comment about not even knowing Merlin’s name when the bells chime for midnight.
Merlin’s eyes widen like saucers and he takes off, shouting apologies as he goes. And in his rush off his neckerchief snags on one of the flower bushes.
Arthur finds the neckerchief and swears he’ll find that mysterious man again.
Merlin makes it back to Gauis’s hut just in time as the spell wears off and passes out in bed
The next morning there’s a royal decree to find the man danced with the prince and lost his neckerchief getting away
I feel that Arthur would be really determined to find him. And he would know that Merlin was not a noble, no noble would behave the way Merlin did.
Arthur would personally go through the whole kingdom, house to house if he had to.
I feel like they would meet again in a really funny way too. Like Merlin would be delivering something for Gauis and they would run into each other like how they met in the show.
As soon as Arthur would hear his snarky comeback he would know that it’s him lol
Arthur would propose to him on the spot with the neckerchief
And they would live snark-ly ever after
586 notes · View notes