#if i teared up while writing this so what
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Dumpster Baby Part 1
I AM ON A ROLL, I THOUGHT OF THIS AND LOVED WHAT MY HEAD PRODUCED, SO I DECIDED TO WRITE IT OUT IN WORDS SO I DON’T FORGET IT! This is going to be long so sit back and enjoy.
This story is inspired by this, and I love it. Thanks @emacrow for letting me use your story as an inspo!!!!
Tw: mentions of csa/child trafficking, mentions of child death, child abandonment, neglect, etc
Hector blew out his cigarette, bored out of his mind as he's manning the cash register currently.
There was no customers, so nobody was going to complain if he was smoking in the store, right?
Then, the door to his store opened with a bang. He fingered the gun under his counter, looking towards the door, only to find a young man looking harried, half-naked and bloodied. His shirt in a bundle, and seemed to be originating from there.
"B-B-BABY! I found a baby in the dumpster!" The poor kid stuttered, his face full of tears as he stared horrifiedly.
Hector took one glance and realised the kid was telling the truth. He took a puff of his cigarette, inhaling it slowly before he exhaled it exhaustively.
"Kid, you must be new in Gotham. Dumpster babies aren’t all that rare in Gotham. Gotham's a complete shithole. If you can't even feed yourself, how can you feed another?" Hector told the kid harshly. The kid held the baby tightly.
"B-but.."
"It's reality in Gotham. Go put back the baby where you found it. In a place where child trafficking and prostitution and such are common, it's best to let it die. It's the greatest mercy you can give it."
The kid became eerily calm and quiet. Hector noticed that his hiccups from sobbing had just gone entirely silent. Then his form starts to glitch as if whatever made him keep his form was struggling to retain itself.
"Ņ̴͉͖̄͐̊͐͒̽̆͗́̅̾̈́̾ǫ̵͈̠̱̱̯̹̳̜̓́͊̚t̶̢̛̛̤̰̦̜̙̲̪̺̬̉̇̍̃̏͐̽̂͊͋̕̕ ̵̡̑͑̏i̷̡̢̡̨̛̦͚̱̝͓̰͈̞̭͔͚̇̑͊̏͊͜f̷̡͔̫̭͉̳͖̰͈͒̌͒̽̔̈̔͋̋͐́́̎̓̑͆ ̸̟̈́́̐��̨̢͕͕̫̬̱͍̙̻͉I̷̛͕̟̻͗̒̂͌̔͆̾̑̃͘͜͠͝ ̴̨̼͉̘͚̹̙̥̟̀̈͌̑̎́͑̓̉̈́͑̆̑͘̚c̴̣͙̖͙͙̜̠̩̟͍͉̤̮͚͖͉̒̉̾̽̈́̀̒͆͊͛̽͐̂̚͘͝͝a̶̲̤̼͒̒͒̔̌̈́̇͌͝n̷̡̙̻̈́̂̀̈̓̀̄̊̐͆͘͠ ̵̨͔̼̤̮̍̌h̶̬̝̫͖͚̰̹̲̮̮̬͓̙͔̆̈̓̅̑͊͐̆̍͌͘͜͜ȩ̷̳͖̹͓̞̬̟̥̼͎̰͇̑̅͑̽̔̅͆͂̑̏͝l̶͚̜͔̮̯̼̝̿͜p̷̳̯̦͓͔̩͕̩͔̈́̀̆́́͑̄̈́̕ ̸̦̏̂̍̉͗͂͗̂͂́̉̚͝ȋ̶̛͕̠̟̦̈́̏̾̾͊͑̂͠t̸̡̡̡̛̼̺͚̜͖̫̼̲̪̫̗̜̓̒̿̾͂́̊̃͜͜.̷̡̛͚̱̫̰͕̳͖͙̾̀̓̓̀̈́̓͑́̾̚͠ͅ "
And without a trace, the kid and the baby disappeared, leaving nothing but the memories.
Hector stared at the place where the kid was once was, putting out his cigarette to rub his face tiredly.
What has he just done?
__________________________________________________________
Danny stared at the baby as he flew back into his hotel room. He had only gone to Gotham because he was initially visiting the Capital Crime City to scout out a new place for Jazz, who was planning to move here for residency at Arkham.
He decided to volunteer to scout ahead bc why would he be scared of crime when he's already dead?
But how did he get to this?
The baby girl mewled in his arms, still red and wrinkled, with their umbilical cord still attached. She was wrapped up in his shirt, having been found naked in a trash bag in a dumpster.
While walking past an alleyway, he heard something in the trash. And something else. So he decided to investigate. He was flying invisibly in ghost form, so there was no way anything would injure him.
So he opened the dumpster lid and saw a suspicious trashbag. In it was a newborn baby girl.
He bawled his eyes right out there bc he couldn't fathom why anyone would just abandon a baby in the dumpster. According to Jazz, multiple baby boxes were scattered across the city, a helpline was available for scared mothers/mothers-to-be, and many other options exist to prevent this.
It was cruel to the baby, but it was also cruel to the mother too. He only realised this according to what the man said. Gotham was a shithole. Who knows if your baby will end up being in the worst position ever, and if you don't have the resources, it's best to kill it to give them mercy. It was the only thing one can do when they're powerless. The best and only gift you could give to your child.
He lay on the bed with the baby sleeping on his chest. He was skin-to-skin with the baby as she was so cold to touch that he raised his own temperature despite the discomfort, as he was naturally cold.
And despite the discomfort, his core purred at having fulfilled his Obsession with Protecting.
She wiggled in his arms, and then a dawning thought of horror came to his mind. She wasn't the only baby that was abandoned, was she?
He carefully got up slowly, ensuring the baby wasn't woken up by the movement. She had a big day today; she should get a lot of sleep.
He placed her on the hotel bed and, for the first time, used his power as King to enact an order.
Protect the abandoned children. If nobody wants them, then he'll take them. One man's trash is another man's treasure, and he shall treat them like they deserve to.
Aw, he would have to get a place for them, wouldn't he?
He gave the baby girl a name to start her new life: Portia.
Then, he found another child who was abandoned by his parents. They neglected and beat him, so wouldn't he be considered abandoned? The boy willingly went when Danny offered Bennett, or Benny, to take him away. He was only 5.
Then the two became four when he found twin children all dirty and covered in dirt, sleeping under a cardboard box as they shared a ratty blanket. Blake and Harper were 10.
He got some Ghosts to help, like Lunch Lady, who loved cooking for those old enough to eat solids. She went all out cooking nutritious food for starving children.
He found a good enough warehouse and took it over from a drug den, which he got rid of. He then began renovating to make it a habitable place for the children.
But sometimes, it felt like he didn't have enough hands to hold them all.
But he was moldable. He could shapeshift into anything he can of his own will.
He grew many hands to carry them. He could hold his new children in his arms.
Four became Eight, then Eight became Thirteen. Thirteen became Twenty.
He wasn't big enough, so he grew and grew. They could all ride on his back together so there would be no fighting.
He didn't have enough eyes, so thinking of how to better observe, his mind suddenly thought of the Observants and how they're basically just eyeballs.
With duplication, he only just duplicates his eyes and lets them float around. Then, he could see e̷̩͈̙̘̗̅̽̾̎̑̉̇̈́͋͋̐͘̕͝v̷̤͙͈̓̂̽ë̸̡̠̩̠̠̟͍̭͙͈̫́̈́ͅr̵̢̨̻̩̰̼̝̞̙̜͙̈́̈́̉̌̾̀͊͊̚y̸̢̧̪̯͕̼̘̗̦͚̙̱̳̙̪͓̍͂̂̽̉̋̀̈́̔̓͝t̶̟̱̽̄́̉̈́̿̍͒̑̓͂͠͝ḩ̴̣̲̬̤͇͍̞̺̥͉̔̓̓̐̄̐̋́͘͜ͅì̴̳̳̭͆͗̈́̒̆̀͒̆̄̕͝͝ņ̸̛͍̳̣̦̲͔̼̝̪̲̗̩̤͋̈̾ͅģ̴̛̼̥̫̰̻͑̑̍͋́͂͌̎̎̈́̈́̏͒͆͠͠.
Despite this form, no children had ever been scared of him. His core would always rumble with protection, so they instinctively knew they were safe with him.
Twenty became Twenty-Three, then Twenty-Seven. Then Thirty-Two.
He loved it. He could make a difference. Even the children who weren't his would come running to him for protection. He would feed them and care for them like his own before sending them off to their parents, who actually cared for them.
He couldn't stop those who stayed before going back out. He did offer to take them in as his children, but some had refused, as they've always been independent.
But at least they would always have a place to go to.
#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc#batman#ghost king danny#danny fenton#eldritch danny phantom#danny never planned on moving to gotham#but for his children? he'll do anything#part 1
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Hold Me While You Wait
PAIRING: Cho Hyun Ju x gender neutral reader
SYNOPSIS: Cho Hyun-ju has known loss, but nothing compares to holding the lifeless body of the only person who ever truly believed in her. As they die in her arms, their final plea for comfort shatters her. Consumed by guilt over her choices in the deadly games, she is left alone in the silence of her grief, forced to confront the price of survival in a world that offers no mercy.
GENRE: angst
WARNINGS: blood, death, grief, guilt and self-blame
NOTES: i have literally been obsessed with hyunju since i finished watching s2 and the lack of fics made me want to attempt my own hand at writing (thank u to the people who requested this!!). please keep in mind that this is my absolute first time indulging into fanfic writing rather than relying on reading others' works so i would love some constructive criticism!! english is not my first language so i apologise if there are errors, this is not proof read.
Cho Hyun-ju was no stranger to the cruel intimacy of loss. It clung to her like a shadow, its touch cold and unrelenting. She had lost so many she had once dared to love, the echoes of their departures a constant ache in her chest. Friends, companions, confidants—each had slipped through her grasp the moment she chose to trust them, her vulnerability rewarded with betrayal as sharp and merciless as any blade. Yet, as she knelt there now, cradling the almost lifeless body of the only soul who had never faltered in their belief in her, she realized she had never truly understood pain. Not like this.
“Hyun-ju...” Their voice was weak, little more than a whisper. She leaned closer, her tears falling onto their face as she brushed a strand of hair from their blood-streaked forehead.
“I’m here,�� she choked out, her voice cracking. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Just...stay with me.”
A faint smile tugged at their lips, so familiar yet so fragile it made her chest ache. “Liar,” they murmured, their words tinged with bittersweet amusement. “We both know...I’m not making it out of this.”
“Don’t say that!” Hyun-ju snapped, her hands pressing desperately against the wound in their chest. “You’re not leaving me. You promised! You said we’d survive this together!”
Their hand, slick with blood, reached up to cup her cheek. The gesture was weak, trembling, but the tenderness in their touch was unmistakable. “Hyun-ju,” they said, their gaze locking onto hers with a heartbreaking intensity. “Just...hold me.”
Her breath hitched. “No, I can stop the bleeding, I—”
“Please,” they interrupted, their voice so soft it broke her. “There’s no time. I don’t want to die alone... Just...let me feel safe. One last time.”
Hyun-ju’s vision blurred with tears, but she obeyed, gathering them closer against her chest. She buried her face in their hair, her sobs muffled as she clung to them like a lifeline. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her words trembling with the weight of her grief. “I’m here. I’ll stay with you. Always.”
“Thank you,” they murmured, their voice barely audible now. “You...made it all worth it. Even this.”
“No,” Hyun-ju cried, her tears falling faster. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t leave me. Please...”
But their breathing slowed, each ragged inhale weaker than the last. Their hand fell from her cheek, limp at their side.
“I love you,” they whispered, the words so faint she barely caught them. And then, silence.
Hyun-ju’s world shattered.
Her beloved’s blood soaked through her fingers, warm and sticky, as if it carried the remnants of the life now slipping away. Hyun-ju's arms tightened around them as if she could hold their spirit in place, refusing to let death take what was hers. But their chest no longer rose with breath, and their once-bright eyes had dulled, staring blankly at a sky that offered no solace.
Hyun-ju's mind screamed at her to do something—anything—but her body was paralyzed, shackled by despair. The memory of a promise whispered in the tender quiet of midnight played cruelly in her head: We’ll face this together. Forever. That word mocked her now, hanging heavy with unfulfilled dreams, as eternity dissolved into a fleeting, fragile moment that ended too soon.
This was her fault.
The realization hit like a tidal wave, threatening to drag her under. Every choice she had made, every desperate gamble to survive, had led to this. She had believed she was fighting for their future—for their chance to escape the grasp of the brutal games that reduced human lives to fodder for the amusement of the elite. But instead, her choices had forged the very blade that now severed their shared hopes and dreams.
Her thoughts spiraled back to the first moment she saw them, standing on the shoreline, now just the pieces of a faint memory. The sea had stretched endlessly behind them, a restless expanse of possibility. Their smile had been like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, offering her something she had almost forgotten—hope. For the first time in years, she had felt seen, understood, as if their very presence whispered, you belong.
In the games, that hope had been her anchor. They had stood by her through every blood-streaked challenge, every moment of terror when the line between life and death blurred. They had trusted her when no one else would, had defended her when she didn’t deserve it.
And now they were gone.
That fleeting sense of belonging had been torn from her, ripped apart by the blood-soaked machinery of the games. She wanted to blame them—the faceless architects of this hell—but deep down, she knew it was her own hand that had led them here. Stay for one more game, she had told herself, clinging to the illusion that they could endure just a little longer, that she could outwit the odds. And now...now, that decision had cost her everything.
The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest, suffocating. Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. What did it matter now? The world was a cruel, hollow place, and mourning was all she had left.
Her hands shook as she pressed them to the wound in their chest, futilely trying to stem the flow of blood. But it was pointless. The games didn’t allow for miracles.
The loudspeaker crackled to life above her, the voice cutting through her despair like a blade.
“Contestant 024 eliminated. Remaining contestants, return to the starting line for the next round.”
Hyun-ju’s breath hitched. The next round. It never ended. The games didn’t stop for grief, didn’t pause for the dead. They demanded obedience, demanded survival at any cost.
But what was the point of surviving now?
Her gaze shifted to the others still standing at the edge of the arena, their faces pale, their eyes averted. They had seen what happened, knew it could just as easily have been them. The games had robbed them all of their humanity, turning them into hollow shells, desperate only to live another day. Sympathy was a luxury the games didn’t allow.
“What was the point?” she choked out, her voice raw and broken. The words fell into the stillness around her, unanswered, as if the universe itself had turned its back on her suffering.
She looked down at her beloved’s face, tracing every line and feature with trembling fingers. How often had those lips spoken words of reassurance, promises that they’d make it through together? How often had those eyes met hers with unwavering faith, even when the world seemed intent on breaking them both?
Now, they were gone. And she remained. A cruel joke, an empty punishment for sins she could never atone for.
Hyun-ju pressed her forehead to theirs, her tears mingling with the blood between them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking with the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. “I’m so, so sorry.”
But the silence that greeted her was deafening, a reminder that forgiveness would never come.
The night stretched on, oppressive and eternal, as she sat there in the crimson pool of her regret, mourning not just the love she had lost but the pieces of herself that had died with them.
hold me while you wait — © marvolos, 2025.
#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyunju x reader#cho hyun ju#cho hyunju#player 120 x reader#player 120#squid game#squid game 2#squid game fanfic#squid game x reader#hyunju#hyun ju x reader#hyun ju#angst#squid game au#kdrama#netflix#fanfiction#squid game fic
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How’d you think frank would react to reader in subspace! You’re literally one of the only people writing for frank and your writing is so so brilliant!🙂↕️
frank castle x fem!reader cw: mdni (18+), smut at the beginning but after that it's just fluff, brief daddy kink a/n: thank you so much angel <33 i gotta keep my fellow frank freaks fed 😤
frank knows you're dropping from the broken whine you let out and the way your hands become grabby, pulling at his shoulders to try and get him as close as physically possible. you always get that way when you start to sink.
he has you on your back beneath his muscular frame, your knees hooked over his shoulders while his cock batters your pussy. his pelvis slams against your center over and over in rough thrusts. he's just pounding you in search of his release.
you'd already cum twice. once on his tongue and once on his cock. the static of overstimulation chipped away at your sensibilities and made you vulnerable. it left you needing him. depending on him.
"just one more for me, baby. c'mon. i know you got it in you," he grunts as his eyes flutter.
"mmm... frankie," you whine. your glossy eyes search to connect with him amidst the haze of lust surrounding you. you babble out the next word while blinking slowly. "daddy..."
he groans at the slurred quality of it. "i'm right here, sweetheart. just gotta cum for me. squeeze me nice and tight."
in this state of mind, defiance isn't an option. you feel your belly starting to flutter along with your legs beginning to flex. the orgasmic spool inside you unravels as though his words work as a direct physical command.
you cry out and arch your back. your arms loop around his neck to cling to him like you're at risk of losing him. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as more choked, pitiful sounds explode out of you. he can feel tears leak from your eyes against his shoulder. you're so close to his ear that he can hear the soft sniffles.
"that's my baby. that's my girl. my good fuckin' girl. so fuckin' good for me, fuck," he grumbles against your skin, his own words trailing off and becoming incoherent.
he presses down on you harder to the point that you're completely squished against the mattress under his weight. his cock is so deep inside you that it'd probably hurt if you were more lucid.
most of the time, he was more gentle with you. everywhere but the bedroom, he treated you as though you were a tiny doll made of glass. when he was close like this though, on the brink draining his balls inside you, being careful felt like something only possible in dreams.
he crashes over the edge hard, growling against your neck and clutching the sheets. his breath comes out in ragged pants as pure euphoria washes through him. you let out tiny squeaks below him, but they're not of much concern right now.
it's after the blissful fog settles that he tends to you.
he rolls off of you once he's almost all the way down. his back hits the bed, and cool air flows between both of your bodies. you lie there for a few moments as if you're dead. if not for the quick rise and fall of your chest, that's what someone may think. your eyes stare at the ceiling, blank and unthinking. tears trail down your temples.
after a few seconds, you start to turn onto your side. you curl up, pupils still cloudy and face void of any specific emotion. in these brief eclipses after sex and before totally settling down, your mind gets stuck in a weird limbo. all you can think about is him. you want him holding you, touching you, taking care of you. but you can't ask for it. can't verbalize the desire for any of that. in the beginning stages of your relationship, he thought you were trying to forget he was beside you.
but now he knows better.
he places a hand on the divot in your waist and pulls you back to him, not letting you draw in on yourself. his nose brushes behind your ear while his lips plant soft kisses on your throat.
"no hiding from me, babydoll. you did so good," he whispers. his hand caress your warm skin, trying to reel you back to him.
you still don't have any words, but your muscles relax for him in an instant. he can feel it under his fingers.
"that's right. i got you, daddy's got you," he mumbles, "let's get you cleaned up."
he rises to his feet on his side of your bed and drags your limp body across it so he can hoist you up into his arms. in your more playful moments, he might throw you over his shoulder, tease you about how he used to have to carry guys like this when he was in the marines. but you're not giggling or squirming right now, so he doesn't.
he scoops you up like a bride and walks over to the bathroom in your apartment. that's when you start coming back a little. you nuzzle at his chest, your warm breath fanning across his muscle.
"there she is," he mumbles.
inside the bathroom, he sits you on the countertop. you lean back against the mirror while he goes to turn on the shower. the surface is cool on your skin. your eyes flutter shut as you relax a bit more.
only seconds later, he's back in front of you. he stands between your thighs and cups your face in one large hand. as quickly as they shut, your eyes pop back open to look at him.
"how're you feeling, pretty girl?" he asks, voice quiet and rough.
you nod in response as if it's a yes or no question. pushing off the mirror, you drape your arms around his shoulders again and press your face to his skin.
"'m ok," you sigh, "just a little sleepy."
"yeah, you are," he says with the hint of a smile gracing his features, "you can knock out as soon as we're done, ok? just let me take care of you."
again, you nod. you never had any objections to handing control over to frank. he lifts you from the counter again and walks into the shower with you.
the hot water streams down onto your bodies below. it trickles from his skin to yours, relaxing both of your muscles. you shut your eyes and keep your head on his shoulder. his fingers twirl in small patterns on your back as he sets you down. the tile is cold on the soles of your feet. you still have to lean against him for balance.
vaguely, you feel his hands running over your body. they’re slippery, slicked up with your sweet-smelling body wash. you swear you hear his deep voice humming, vibrating in his chest beneath your ear, but it could be your imagination.
in total, it feels like the shower is only seconds long. you know you’ve been in there for longer, you felt him run through your whole routine. but time melts away in your mind when you're in this state.
as soon as you’ve acclimated to the smooth surface underfoot, he’s guiding you off of it and onto the cushioned mat outside the shower. you stand there, managing a few lazy blinks.
he laughs softly at that. “few more minutes, sleepy girl.”
with an old towel from the rack, he dries you off. he’s quick but thorough, getting every last little bead of water off of you without being tedious about it.
he scoops you back up after that. your arms and legs latch around him, holding on as he carries you to the bedroom and plops you down on the bed.
“time for sleep?” you yawn, stretching your limbs a bit.
"nice try but you gotta put on some clothes, baby. don't want you catching a cold," he says before heading over to the dresser and grabbing a top for you along with some panties.
"that's not how it works, y'know," you correct while lazily watching him return to you. he tosses the scraps of fabric next to your body on the mattress.
"oh you're a doctor now, huh?" he mutters before tapping your ankle, "put your legs up."
you do as he says without complaint, lifting your legs high into the air so he can pull your panties over them.
"i'm just saying, i wouldn't get sick from sleeping naked," you yawn.
shaking his head, he grabs one of your outstretched arms to pull you up right. despite regaining your ability to speak, you still looked at him with that same dreamy smile you got when you were blissed out.
he tugs the sweatshirt over your head. it was one of his, one of the newer, softer ones you'd bought for him. he'd owned it just long enough and worn it the right amount of times needed for it to smell like him.
"there you go," he says softly and pulls you to his chest for a few seconds. he just feels you in his arms for a moment, pressed against him, safe and sound. as much as you loved being babied, part of the reason he took care of you was for himself too.
he kisses your forehead and then lets you lie down.
"you get comfy, babydoll. i'm gonna put some clothes on, and then i'll be right back," he says before departing to tend to himself for a few minutes.
when he does come back, he's surprised you haven't passed out already. instead, you're tucked under the blankets and curled up to a pillow, waiting for him. you reach out with another grabby hand to signal your desire for him.
"i'm coming," he mutters as he rolls onto the mattress beside you and loops his muscular arm behind your head.
you nuzzle right up to his chest, draping your own limbs over his body. he feels your lips lay a small kiss on his chest.
"get some sleep, baby. don't want you to be all cranky in the morning," he murmurs and shifts a little to engulf you with his frame.
"you're the one who gets cranky..." you reply. but you follow along anyways and shut your eyes. his body heat combined with your soft bedding has you drifting off in no time.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle x you#frank castle fluff#ch: frank castle 💌#the punisher x reader#marvel x reader#marvel smut#marvel fluff
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Little Matchmaker
Part 1
(Jinx x gn!reader)
Summary: The little girl you've been taking care of for a few months stopped showing up one day. A few days later she's on your doorstep once again, but this time she isn't alone... (angst & fluff)
Warnings: mentions of violence and death, selfloathing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, probably ooc Jinx
Wordcount: 1.3k
A/N: Sorry for the delay, my weekend was way more hectic than I originally anticipated. And I worked two double shifts the last two days... This is still not finished, but I decided to cut it into two parts so I could at least post this, it's super short and Jinx only appears at the end, sorry for that... I was super tired while writing this (and as I already mentioned in my last post, english is not my first language), so I apologize for every mistake I didn't correct. I hope it's still enjoyable to read.
The first night she didn't show up, you didn't think much of it. Sure, there was that nagging feeling of worry in the back of your mind; but she was a smart kid- surely she was alright. By the third night, however, you were a complete mess. Your whole body was filled with nothing but anxiety and guilt.
You had looked for her, of course, you had. Day and night you made your way through the lanes, searching for the little girl to no avail. You started dreading the worst, she was dead, she had to be that was the only logical explanation. It's not like it was far-fetched either, Zaun was a dangerous place, and children died daily... You just didn't think she would.
You barely knew her for two months, but it was enough time for you to develop maternal feelings for her. You took her in, kept her well-fed and entertained, and even changed the whole room arrangement in your small house to give her a little space of her own. You planned on raising her to your best abilities and you failed. You failed her, you didn't protect her, you let her wander off... Her blood was on your hands and the guilt was eating you alive.
You always thought it was fate that led her to you, but now you weren't so sure anymore. Would fate be really that cruel? To give you a new purpose, a reason to stay alive, just to rip it from you again?
Perhaps this was fate's way of showing you that you had no reason to stay. Maybe you weren't meant to live a happy life, maybe you weren't meant to be alive at all.
That's all you could think about as you sat in front of the small window of your bedroom. You stared out onto the empty street, the undercity painted in the darkness of night. Your head was pounding- curtsy of the last three sleepless nights, and your eyes burned from the many tears you shed over the last days. You felt absolutely miserable, your mind showing you memory after memory you made with her over the last two months.
You were about to close up your shop when you heard the clashing of metal cans. With a frown you made your way to the window, peeking out of it with squinted eyes. That's when you saw her, a small girl covered in dirt and grease sitting between the trashcans with a pout on her young face.
Her brown hair looked matted and was covered in knots, her clothes dirty and ripped, and goodness did she look thin- like a single blow of wind would knock her down. You quickly made your way outside, wondering where she came from, if she still had parents, or at least somebody to look after her.
Once you reached her and crouched down in front of her with a frown, she looked up at you- face scrunching up in fear and started scrambling backwards until she hit the wall. You carefully held up your hands in front of you, showing her you were no threat. "Hey, hey... it's okay. I won't hurt you." You kept your voice as gentle as you could, and her rapid breathing started to slow down again.
She still looked skeptical of you, and honestly, you didn't blame her. Who knows what she faced, what she went through? You looked her over more carefully, searching for any wounds, but besides a few bruises on her knees and palms, she seemed unharmed.
You bit your bottom lip and looked up at the sky for a moment, it was starting to get dark. The girl's gaze followed yours and she let out a sound close to a whimper, which caused you to look down at her again.
Taking her inside was an easy decision. She was scared, hungry, and all alone; what else were you supposed to do? So, with a small sigh, you got up from your crouched position and held out your hand to her. And after a moment of hesitance, she took it.
She held your hand the whole time. From getting inside, closing the shop, and making your way upstairs to the small flat you lived in- she didn't let go once. It surprised you, how quickly she decided to trust you, but you supposed you were the first person to offer her at least some sense of safety.
As the two of you sat at your tiny kitchen table, a plate with hot porridge placed before her, you decided to ask her the question that's been on your mind since you noticed her.
"Hey kid," was all it took for her to look up from her plate, spoon held midway in the air, and a curious expression on her face. "Do you have a family? Anyone?"
Even though you alredy expected it, the shake of her head still sent a wave of sadness through your body. In that moment, you knew you would keep her around.
The first time you met her...
The memory caused you to break down in tears again. Your shoulders shook with every sob and you felt like you couldn't breath. Why did you let her go outside on her own? Why did you prioritize a stupid sale over playing with her? No money in the world was worth loosing her, and you would give anything to have her back.
You were tired, so damn tired, but you wouldn't allow your body the rest it so clearly needed. You were punishing yourself, why should you let yourself rest? You clearly didn't deserve it. You wiped at your eyes and tried blinking your vision back to focus. But the sight on the street caused your heart rate to pick up; this couldn't be real, you were hallucinating from exhaustion.
You frantically rubbed your eyes and leaned closer to the window, your nose almost pressed against the glass. But it seemed like your mind didn't decive you, she was still there, walking towards your shop.
Isha.
She was alive!
You pushed yourself up, the chair you were sitting on falling backwards and landing on the floor with a dull thud. Then you ran, you ran as fast as you could, outside the room and down the stairs. You pushed the door of your shop open, the door swinging harshly against the wall.
"Isha!" You screamed as you ran towards her small figure, tears still running down your cheeks at a rapid pace.
She looked at you with a smile, oblivious to the worry she caused you, as she picked up her pace.
You fell to your knees in front of her and pulled her tightly against you, pressing your cheek against the top of your head and closing your eyes. Your sobs slowly died down and you took shaky breaths to calm yourself.
Isha was alive, she was safe and unharmed in your arms. Where has she been? Did you even care? Not right now, you decided. Now you were just going to hold her for a while. She was alive. nothing else mattered.
The call of your name from an all to familiar voice, a voice that still haunts your dreams, caused you to snap your eyes open abruptly. You hadn't noticed that Isha wasn't alone, you were far too relieved to see her, so you blocked anything else completely out.
But as if your poor heart hadn't been through emotions already, you were now faced with the very person who broke it. Your eyes widened as you stared at her, her gaze looking almost haunted as her violett red eyes met yours.
Jinx. She was right in front of you, and now you were vividly picturing the last time you saw her in your mind.
#arcane#jinx#jinx arcane#isha arcane#jinx and isha#jinx x reader#x reader#gender nuetral reader#fanfic#x reader fanfiction#angst#fluff
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hi hi ! i saw your post about wanting some se-mi requests and i was wondering on how se-mi would react to having a s/o that tends to zone out / dissociates during the games whenever they're parted from se-mi / can't stay near her because it causes their separation anxiety </3 like it's a way for the reader to feel less anxious or stressed and the reader seems to lighten up whenever they're near se-mi or notices she's alive , sorry if that's alot ! 😭
✧₊⁺ we'll go home (together)
se-mi x fem!reader
✦ synopsis: as you try to survive the games with your girlfriend, you can't help but to dissociate when she's not nearby. lucky for you, she never wants to leave your side.
content: just a short fluff, reader usually zones out when she's not with se-mi
authors note: thank you for the request! it's rlly short because i'm writing this at my office bye i have dedication!!!!!! but i hope u like it!
✧₊⁺ first of all, your girlfriend would never leave you alone. like ever. i think she would die if that happened.
✧₊⁺ but there's this one situation in mingle where you guys were running along with min-su as a group of three and in the rush, someone pushed her.
✧₊⁺ when you saw her on the ground you almost choke yourself. what if she dies? what if that hurted her head? what if she can't move to run with a group? what if-
✧₊⁺ as you start to hyperventilate you try and run to your gilfriend, failing as min-su pushes you into a room with another guy and closes the door.
✧₊⁺ "hey, i saw her. she got up and ran with another group. she's okay" he said, touching your shoulder.
✧₊⁺ you won't believe him until you see her.
✧₊⁺ you start to dissociate. you can see min-su talking but you can't hear him. your mind filled with thoughts. 'i hope she's okay. she better be okay'.
✧₊⁺ tears start falling from your eyes because what kind of girlfriend are you? leaving her there? it was an accident but-
✧₊⁺ the doors unlock. you run outside as you stare everywhere.
✧₊⁺ she's not here. she's not here. she died. min-su lied-
✧₊⁺ you feel soft arms wrapping you, she deposits a kiss to your temple.
"i'm here baby" she says as you hug her back, your tears going down your cheeks.
"i'm-m so so sorry i'm so sorry...i tried but-" i sobbed against her, her hand caressing my hair to try and calm me.
"sh sh, baby i know. i told min-su to pull you away. i'm here okay? i'm never leaving you"
you believe her. she better not.
✧₊⁺ you're just so used to her, you kinda forgot how it is when she's not there.
✧₊⁺ like the first time you two sleep together, she wakes up first, smiling as she sees you all comfy. she kisses your entire face. when she's done, she gets up, heading to talk with the guys until you wake up. she thinks you'll wake up and follow her, after all you know that when she's not with you, she's with her friends.
until she thinks it's been a little too much time. she starts to worry, going back to your bed.
she finds you there, staring at a blank point on the wall.
"baby?"
you lift your head, she's back!
your face lightens up, a soft smile appearing.
"i missed you" you say as she smirks, getting closer to you. your face in her hands, softly kissing your lips.
"good morning princess, what's wrong? i was waiting until you wake up but i got worried. it's been a while." she frowned.
"i thought you.. left or something" i mumble as her face scans my features. a hint of worry through her eyes.
"baby, what?-" she says, shocking her head no. "no princess i'd never leave you, wherever i go, you come with"
i nod as she kisses my lips again and again.
"i love you"
"i love you princess"
✧₊⁺ of course, when the fourth game comes and it's an individual one, you're shaking.
✧₊⁺ she's too, she just doesn't want you to see it, or it'll make you more nervous.
✧₊⁺ "it's okay baby, this is our last game and then we vote to leave okay? its the last time you're gonna be appart from me. i swear" she says, hugging me as i return it, squeezing her.
it's hard to focus when you're not with her, but you try to get past it. after all, if your girlfriend comes out and you don't, she'll be heartbroken. you don't want that.
✧₊⁺ finally, you made it through. as you're out of the room, you sit there waiting for her.
of course she comes a few minutes later with a smug smirk. she's so cocky.
as she sees you, her face lightens up.
and as you see her, you get up to run to her arms.
✧₊⁺ she kisses you with a soft chuckle.
"what did i said? together. i bet you did so good, my pretty girl" she says smiling.
✧₊⁺ you think you might melt right there and then. you nod, never leaving her arms.
"can we go home now?" you say as she nods.
"let's vote and go home".
#player 380#player 380 x reader#se mi#se mi x reader#se-mi#se-mi x reader#lesbian#squid game#squid game 2#wlw
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Crash // Alessia Russo
Request: hey, could you please write some angst for alessia if possible.
a/n: hope u like it :))
warnings: car crash
"Where are you taking me?" Alessia grumbled with her arms crossed as she sat in the passengers seat, not amused by the fact that she sat in the passenger seat.
"You know, I don‘t like it when you drive" she added, her frown only deepening.
Playfully offended, you gasped, "are you saying I’m not a good driver?"
She turned to you, answering dead serious, "yes!" she crumbled under the glare she got in return, your raised eyebrow never a good sign "no" she mumbled, her fingers slowly interviewing with yours. "It‘s my job to drive you around, not the other way around" the striker continued to ramble about the situation while you just smiled to yourself.
Usually, Alessia was always sat behind the steering wheel, driving you to your destinations. And though, you were able to drive yourself (license in your wallet since years) the blonde insisted on driving you every time. She even drove you to appointments that didn't involve her, such as coffee dates with your friends or else. She loved driving and especially driving you around or you just seated in the passenger seat.
"But I’ve a surprise for you, so relax" you smiled, "you‘re even allowed to be dj" you grinned, the blonde always complaining that you wouldn’t even play one song of her choice.
"You‘ve got the passenger princess privileges, use them, love"
Alessia grumbled something before she connected her phone, her playlist starting to play. "You‘re lucky you‘re cute"
You had something really nice planned which she would definitely enjoy. Lately, everything has been stressful with your studies and all the exams that were coming up. And Lessi had shown nothing but love and support during this time, which is why you wanted to do something special as a thank you.
Everything was perfect so far, the blonde slowly accepting the fact that you sat behind the steering wheel instead of her, the conversation flowing easily as always until suddenly a car appeared out of nowhere, hitting your side with a force.
That’s the last thing you remember.
-
"Is she okay?" Alessia asked the medic with a raspy shaky voice, panic radiating of her body. She didn��t know where you were. The ambulance left immediately with you, everything happening so fast. One second, she was telling you about the derby and in the other second, the car left the road and hit a tree.
"Ma‘am, you need to sit." The medic ordered as Alessia attempted to get up, hissing in pain. Her arm and shoulder hurt awfully, her face slightly bloody as it trickled down her forehead and nose.
"No! I need to know! She wasn‘t speaking, her eyes were closed! I- i don’t know"
The medics tried to calm her down the best they could, but it didn‘t help much.
After a short examination of her, the second ambulance left for the hospital.
-
In the hospital, Alessia went through several checks. Her arm was broken but thankfully it was a straight and simple fraction and nothing splintered. Her cuts were taken care of, only the large one on her forehead needing stitches. "You were very lucky" the doctor explained, also explaining the rest of her treatment and more. But Alessia couldn’t listen, all she could think about was you.
Are you alright? Are you alive? Where are you? What was happening?
"What about my wife? Is she alright? Please tell me she‘s alright" Alessia begged, tears streaming down her face.
-
Alessia sat next to your bed, holding your hand, praying that you would open your eyes. Just anything.
She sat there for hours, not leaving your side at all. Each time a nurse came in, the blonde wanted to know everything. What were they doing? What meant this sound or that? Are you getting better? Anything. The thought of you not waking up was terrifying her.
"Lessi, i think you should go for a walk. Grab a coffee and some fresh air" her mother ordered, sensing that her daughter was thinking too much, holding your hand tightly.
"I can’t" she replied, her eyes not leaving your face.
"Less, she‘s right. As soon as something happens, we‘ll tell you immediately. I promise" your mother joined the conversation now.
"Ok-ay" in trance she stood up, walking backwards to the door, her eyes not leaving yours until she was out of the room.
When Alessia came back, nothing had happened (she hadn‘t even been gone for 5 minutes) yet she was disappointed. This was her worst nightmare.
She wasn’t able to protect you.
You looked so vulnerable in the hospital bed, so fragile. It broke her heart.
In the evening, her mum and your mum said their good bye to the girl, promising to come back in the morning, Alessia still refusing to leave your side and to sleep at home. She couldn’t.
You needed her.
-
You woke up in a bright room, groaning in pain. Looking around, you saw Carol sitting on a chair, reading a magazine. "Hey, you’re up" the magazine was long forgotten as she was at your side, offering you some water.
"Less" you rasped. You fiddled with the duvet, memories flashing in front of your eyes.
Car.
Tree.
Blood.
Less.
"Stay" her mother ordered, already calling the nurse.
"Where‘s Lessi?" you cried in pain, scared and terrified.
"Love!" Alessia‘s eyes widened as she re-entered your room, only gone for a minute to use the bathroom. "You‘re awake" she was at your side in an instant, holding your hand and rapidly kissing it. The other hand trying her best to cradle your head with the cast, "how are you feeling?"
"I‘m so sorry" you cried, "your car" you sobbed.
"I don’t care about the car right now" she stated firmly, wiping away the tears.
"You love your Mercedes"
"I don’t care about that stupid car. You‘re awake!" her voice slightly raised by all the emotions she was feeling.
In that moment a nurse came in, checking all things before the doctor joined, explaining everything and the following steps.
Carol left after the medical team had gone out of the room, sensing that both of you needed a minute alone, calling your mother to let her know what the doctor said.
"I‘ll pay you back, i promise" you refused to look at her, ashamed that the one time you were driving of course something had to happen.
"Look at me, please" she pleaded, her voice breaking slightly. She hadn’t seen your open eyes in days and now you refused to look at her. She couldn’t handle it. The lack of you in the last few days had been awful for her and not knowing if you would ever wake up, had been more than terrifying. It was a feeling she wouldn’t want anybody to feel. This fear, the feeling of not being able to breathe, as if her chest was constricting with every movement. And then the thoughts. Mentally she couldn't find rest because she hoped, prayed and mourned. There were too many emotions at once and the strongest of them was the most unpredictable - love. What would you do out of love?
When you looked at her, you realized how scared she must have been the last few days.
"Please don‘t cry" you whispered as you saw the tears, the exhaustion on her face and her injuries, "i thought-" she hiccuped, all feelings bubbling to the surface.
"I love you, i don‘t care about the Mercedes, okay? All i care about is you and that you‘re alive. That‘s all that ever matters to me" her hands cupped your cheeks, crying even more.
"Come here" groaning in pain, you scooted to the side, "stop moving. what are you doing!" Lessi asked with wide eyes, panic in her expression.
"Come here, please" with the pout on your face, she just couldn’t say no. She needed this just as much as you did. You leaned against her, head resting on her shoulder as your hand held her shirt, seeking comfort in her touch.
"I‘m sorry for driving, i just wanted to do something special" you whispered, "i never wanted to get you hurt" you mumbled, scared, exhausted and still in pain after everything.
"No more of that. We can worry about everything later, right now i just need you close" she replied, her tightening her grip around you (not even to hurt you), slowly calming down.
You were alive.
You were in her arms.
You were alive.
She couldn’t care less about her car or about your surprise or literally anything else in this world.
All that mattered was you.
"I love you so so much."
Everything was going to be okay.
It was you and her against the world.
And she would support you on every step of the way of your recovery because that‘s what wives do. In sickness and in health just like she had promised.
Like the doctor said, "it‘s going to take its time but you‘ll fully recover" and that’s what Alessia held onto. Because sometimes the only thing that helps is hope. Alessia’s hopes and believes were stronger than her fears. Hope was stronger than any fear, especially when it came to the life of a loved one. Someone that was you. Someone who’s loved so deeply by Alessia and everyone around you. Your wife never gave up, never lost her hope and faith in you and your strength. Because if she had done so, she might had lost herself at the same time.
Love was unconditional and unpredictable - that‘s what made it special.
And Alessia truly did love you, more than anything in this world (and definitely more than her Mercedes)
#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso#arsenal wfc#lionesses#engwnt#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#arsenal women#arsenal x reader
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some of this is lowk angsty but it’s for the plot guys don’t hate me :( also my first time writing for geto and nanami, hope I did them well enough :))
fem!reader in nobaras
warnings! — implications of homophobia in nobaras :(( not proofread
yuuji is the type of boyfriend to marry you with a ring-pop, giggling as he gets down on one knee. he ends up convincing you to slow dance with him to the sound of the wind, promising he’ll get a real ring and marry you. just don’t eat the ring-pop, he’ll get sulky if you do :((
megumi is the type of boyfriend to have a picnic with you at night, something to get away from all things jujutsu. eating his many ginger flavoured snacks, maybe a slice of something sweet you’ve brung. cuddles up to you while watching the stars, finally understanding what peace is.
nobara is the type of girlfriend to take night walks with you. gossiping about daily life, laughing at corny jokes. only to stop somewhere secluded, humming as she leans against and finally, for the first time without being ridiculed, kisses you.
satoru is the type of boyfriend to have is infinity down around you, wanting to feel your presence. it’s comforting to him, like a warm wave of love and affection. he drapes himself over you, trying to merge together with you. if he could, he’d blend you two together so you’ll never part :))
suguru is the type of boyfriend to keep something that reminds him of you in his pocket. wanting to always have you with him, being gone days on end—away from you nearly sends him spiralling, so having something similar to you puts him to rest. he wishes you’d become pocket size so he can always keep you with him :))
kento is the type of boyfriend to always bring you flowers every time he visits you at work. they’re always hand picked with meaning, wanting to gift you flowers he thought of with you in mind, often varying in different colours and species. sometimes he dries them for you, hoping you’ll use it for decoration.
choso is the type of boyfriend to sleep naked with you, not in a sexual way. choso just loves the skin-on-skin contact you give, your warm body against his cold one brings him comfort like no other. reminding him that you’re here, alive and real. he tears up, forever grateful for you, and your love.
#.yuyu#.gums#.norb#.toru#.sugu#.ken#.cho#itadori yuuji x reader#boyfriend yuuji#yuuji fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#there should be more nobara fics#nobara kugisaki x reader#nobara fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#suguru geto x reader#geto fluff#choso kamo x reader#choso fluff#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff
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SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Room Relaxation Vignette
"Happy Birthday"
[Courtyard]
[rustle, rustle]
Lilia: Heeey, Malleuuus~ Come out, come out, wherever you are~ Sebek's about to burst into tears 'cause he can't find you~
Jade: I was curious what you were up to what with your fervent rustling through the hedges… I see, you were searching for Malleus-san.
Lilia: Oh, Jade. We're supposed to be having an important meeting in the dorm right now, but he's nowhere to be found.
Jade: My, an important meeting? How fascinating. Is there some pressing issue?
Lilia: Nothing dire. Actually, the Pop Music Club decide to throw together an impromptu birthday performance tomorrow!
Lilia: And we wouldn't want it to clash with the party we're hosting at the dorm, right? So, we wanted to make sure the schedules lined up.
Jade: Aah… So that's what it was. Speaking of the Pop Music Club, I found the performance they gave during the freshmen club orientation to be utterly captivating.
Jade: To think you were putting in this much effort behind the scenes to make it happen. I'm sure this one will be just as hilar― splendid as last time.
Lilia: Well, yeah, we're gonna go all out and rock on! It'll be in our club room like usual, though.
Lilia: There's no admission to come see us this time. You should come and witness my amazingly passionate screamo.
Jade: Fufufu, just hearing you speak of it is giving me quite the thrill. I definitely will be coming by.
Lilia: Kheeheehee, I'll be waiting. …Oookay, I need to get back to searching for Malleus. See ya, Jade.
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lounge]
[Diasomnia Students chatter]
Lilia: ―Everyone, I found Malleus. Just as I thought, he hadn't realized it was the meeting time already.
Lilia: Now, we might be a little late, but we'll start the meeting now! We need to quickly chat through the important stuff, since we're short on time.
Lilia: For our Housewarden's sake, we'll start with the agenda for today…
[Diasomnia Student A speaks]
Lilia: …Hm? You've already spoken through the topics? You all thought it would be rude to bother Malleus with this meeting?
Lilia: So you're saying… I DIDN'T NEED TO GO LOOKING FOR MALLEUS~?!
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]
Lilia: Whew. It's a struggle having so many model students taking initiative...
Lilia: Well, now I'm done with my shower. I'm not taking one step out of my room anymore.
Lilia: Let's gooo, the sun's set already so I'm feelin' at the top of my game. My day finally starts now!
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]
Lilia: First, I'll do all my daily quests for my game… Huh, where's my keyboard? I swear I had it here yesterday…
[rustle, rustle]
Lilia: Ohh, here it is. It just got completely buried under this stack of papers.
Lilia: There sure are a ton of papers scattered about. This is a test from last year, and that's something I got my first year here. Oh, and this…
「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」
Lilia: A survey? …Oh right, Crowley was practically demanding that it gets filled in.
Lilia: I was ignoring it, since I couldn't really think of anything to write. I guess I should finish it up before it gets buried under things again.
Lilia: But even so, what am I supposed to request…? We're kept out of the rain and wind, and have fully working AC. I also have an abundance of time to spend eating or enjoying myself.
Lilia: I am able to watch over my family learn, while surrounded by friends. It would be too greedy to ask for anything more.
Lilia: I'll just write, "I have no issues with the current quality of life," and―
[clatter, clatter…!]
[CRASH!]
[THUD! BAM!]
Lilia: Things just keep falling off their little piles whenever I turn around. …But hey, it's no big, since it's not interfering with me at all!
[knock, knock]
Lilia: Hm? Looks like someone's here, and so late at night. Coming! I'll open the door so hold on a sec.
[Diasomnia Student B speaks]
Lilia: Oh, it's just my neighbors. Don't worry, there's no problems here.
[Diasomnia Students leave]
Lilia: Dear me, that's the problem with stone buildings, they make even the smallest noise echo so loudly. Especially when it's quieter at night.
Lilia: Whenever I'd play my instrument, there'd be an uproar about some kind of terrifying sounds echoing night after night.
Lilia: All I was doing each day was playing a little drums while doing a little dance… Dorm life sure can be difficult to get used to.
Lilia: If I didn't have to deal with that, then I could watch movies at full volume, or stream video games…
Lilia: Ohh, I guess this is something I can add to the survey. "Sound travels too easily. I'd like to install a soundproofing system.
Lilia: What else…? Ah! I don't have time to be doing this. I'll miss my consecutive login bonus. I need to log in to the game right now!
Muscle Red: Farewell, see you next raid.
Lilia: Today's drop rate was trash… On days like this, it's best to just cut my losses and not keep going.
Lilia: Before I turn off my computer, I think I'll check out that online crane game. Sometimes they have some real fun prizes there.
Lilia: Ooh, that plushie armrest looks cute! How many people are waiting in line…? Oh, just one. Perfect, I'll join the queue then.
Lilia: I never thought there'd come a day where I'd be able to play a crane game from the comforts of my room.
Lilia: It has so many different things, from snacks to everyday objects, and even gives a free play for logging in. Someone thought this through real well.
Lilia: Even these dragon feet slippers I'm wearing now was something I won from using those free play tickets.
Lilia: Oh, it's finally my turn. This little plushie looks like it has a heavy head, so… I'll start by dropping the crane around here!
Lilia: Take that! …Nice, it moved like I wanted. Then now, I'll aim for the same place one more time―
Lilia: ―Now I'm just feeling waaaay exhausted… Even after it felt like it would almost fall, it still took a long time to get there.
Lilia: Everything came out alright in the end, since I got it, but… Looks like it wasn't just the drop rate in the game earlier, my luck is just no good today.
Lilia: But I was able to get what I wanted, so I'm happy with that. Winning it when I wasn't expecting it is just another kind of fun.
Lilia: Well, I guess next I'll continue watching that one drama on the streaming site… Hm? What's this recommended video…?
Lilia: My favorite band just released a new song! I gotta check out their music video right away!
Lilia: Kheeheehee, there's still so much I get to do tonight. I love how every single day is packed full of fun things.
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]
Lilia: Urrrgh… Urh… Bright… …Why's there sunlight?
Lilia: Oh, I forgot to close the curtains… ...Tch. …Disgusting…
Lilia: ...Ah, no, I should get up… Hrrrnnngh, so briiight!
Lilia: In the end, I wasn't even able to do half of what I wanted to do. Night sure does pass quickly…
Lilia: If I just get everything ready with magic, I could fall back asleep now and still make it in time for class… Or not, I'd probably just end up sleeping in.
Lilia: I guess I'll head to the washroom to try and wake up.
[Diasomnia Dorm – Washroom]
[splash]
Lilia: Whew! The water in the wintertime is so chilly that it wakes me right up. Now, next is…
[Diasomnia Student C speaks]
Lilia: Oh hey, good morning. I see you've come to the washroom as well, this morning. …Hm? What am I doing?
Lilia: It's skincare, S-K-I-N-C-A-R-E! You shouldn't skimp on it, you know~? For example, I'm going to…
Lilia: Hm? Was I supposed to start with this watery stuff first? Or was it the more paste-like stuff?
Lilia: …Eh, shouldn't matter which goes on first! Once they're on my skin, it'll all end up the same.
Lilia: 'Kay, skincare done! As for the makeup… Ooh, right, I should try to do the clumpy eyelash I saw in a video the other day.
Lilia: I'll just use magic to toss on my eyeshadow. Done. The eyelash curler is… Ah, here it is.
Lilia: First, I need to make sure my eyelashes are standing straight up. Like―
Lilia: …Ouch! I caught my eyelid! The road to cosmetic beauty sure is filled with pain and patience…
Lilia: Once I brush the little hairs, I need to apply mascara to make them longer before they lose their structure.
Lilia: Then, I'll use the tweezers. I need to make little clumps before the mascara dries―
Lilia: And there we go, I've given myself the doll-like eyelashes that's all the rage with the young folks these days!
Lilia: Hehe, it really goes well with my big and bright eyes.
Lilia: Next is fixing my hair style. I'll just apply some silky smooth hair milk all over my head, and…
Lilia: Then poof it to completion with a bit of magic. Kheeheehee, I look splendid, befitting of what a birthday boy should look like!
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lilia's Room]
Lilia: Okay, time to get chan… Ouch! Uuuurrrrg… My pinky toe… What numbskull left an amp right in the middle of the walking path!?
Lilia: …Right, this is my room, so the culprit can only be myself. Why does it feel like this room just feels smaller than before?
Lilia: Should I get more storage?
Lilia: …Nah, if I'm going to buy any furniture, I should prioritize getting a small tea table for when Silver and the others come to visit.
Lilia: …Haha, listen to me now. When I was filling out the survey, I thought I was satisfied with everything as they are, but…
Lilia: I can still think of more things I want, and even more things I want to do. Now, when did I learn to wish for such extravagance?
[Main Street]
Jade: Good morning, Lilia-san. Was yesterday's meeting able to go off without a hitch?
Lilia: Morning, Jade. Both the party and the performance are ready to go. Today is going to be a real fun day.
Jade: Fufu, I am certainly looking forward to see what sort of performance we'll be… blessed with today. A very Happy Birthday to you.
Lilia: Right-o! Make sure you have the time of your life during today's performance, too!
Requested by @kingren77.
#twisted wonderland#twst#lilia vanrouge#jade leech#twst lilia#twst jade#twst translation#twst birthday#mention: malleus#mention: sebek#mention: silver#mention: crowley
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Choi Su-Bong/ Thanos
NSFW Alphabet
Warning: Talks of oral, penetrative sex, squirting, dacryphilia, mentions of drugs, Thanos just being himself.
A/N: ong I'm sick of ppl writing Thanos like he's abusive, my purple haired king would never!! But tbh he's lucky he ain't real or I'd suck the skin right off his dick ykwim
A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Contrary to popular belief, I don't think he'd be that bad at aftercare. He's not amazing at it don't get me wrong, but he's not gonna just leave you alone with nothing. He definitely might offer you some sort of drug he's got on his roster, but I believe he'd clean you up and make sure that you're feeling okay and get confirmation that he wasn't too rough with you.
B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)
Nobody can tell me that this man isn't obsessed with his tongue oml. To him, it's a gift from the gods that he gets to use it to taste every part of you. From your soft lips to your breasts, all the way down to your cunt. He's an ass man oh my. He loves the way it jiggles when he fucks you from behind, how soft and smooth it is when he grips it while you ride him.
C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)
You cannot tell me this man doesn't love cumming all over your back or ass. He's obsessed with the way it slides down the curve of your ass, coating his thighs in the substance. He adores how messy the whole process is, wanting to see you covered in just him, it could get him higher than any drug he's tried.
D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)
He just wants one night where he can do whatever he wants to your tits. Whether it be playing with your nipples, leaving hickeys on them, massaging them, or more importantly squishing them together and fucking them, his tip going between your plump lips every time he thrusts up into them.
E - Experience (How experienced are they?)
Did y'all see all the people that swarmed him once they knew who he was? Imagine what it was like outside the games. He is well-experienced when it comes to fucking someone, but not having an intimate moment with another person.
F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)
He loves any position that puts him in a position of control. He loves reverse cowgirl especially because it gives him full access to the sight of your ass. He's also a fan of doggy style, again due to the sight he gets of your ass but also because of how deep he can get in that position.
G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)
He is teasing the shit outta you I'm so sorry. I don't think he has the capability not to tease you. It just gets him so worked up seeing your eyes well up with tears at his comments, it just makes his cock throb.
H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)
I honestly cannot decide with him. For one he gives off the vibes that he's bald down there, finding the hair to be an annoyance. But also I don't think he'd care enough about it to shave it and just let it grow. For the sake of the argument, I'm just gonna say he shaves his shit bald.
I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)
I feel like there are some times when he can be very romantic if you need it. Usually, he's the type to go rough and fast. But occasionally he can be slow and sensual, giving you gentle kisses and touches, treating you as if you were the most delicate thing he's ever handled.
J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)
He jacks off very frequently, about every other day tbh. I don't think he'd do it to porn often, and if he did it would be to an actor who looks like you. But most of the time he does it to the memory of you, whether it be you grinding down on his face making those pretty noises he loves so much, or him fucking into you, your whines the only thing he can hear besides the slapping of your skin against his.
K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)
You cannot tell me this man isn't into Exhibitionism. He loves the idea of you guys almost getting caught in the middle of the act, he swears he feels himself get even harder at the sight of you trying to quiet yourself down in an attempt to not get caught. He's also into dacryphilia, seeing you cry from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he's causing you makes him cum right on the spot.
L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)
He would be into anything public, bathroom stalls, fingering you under a table, having you bounce on his dick in a dark crowded club, he's into it all.
M - Motivation (What turns them on?)
Seeing you in any type of revealing clothing, especially skirts, immediately gets him hard. Seeing you in lingerie is by far the sexiest thing you could wear in front of him. He'd want you to keep it on as he bends you over, pulling the lingerie to the side and eating you out to his heart's content.
N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)
He's not really into the whole submissive role, he always wants to be the one in charge, at least during any sexual interaction. He's also not into doing anything that can seriously harm you.
O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)
I don't think he has a preference between the two. He loves the sight of you on your knees, trying to fit his cock in your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes due to the brutal pace he's set fucking your face. But he also adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to your cunt. The feeling of it pulsing around his tongue when he finally makes you cum, the little whines and moans you let out from the overstimulation.
P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)
He's fast with his pace, he swears he can't help himself. The feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock, practically begging him to pound you into the mattress with all the force he can muster. It's your fault for feeling so damm good.
Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)
He loves them so much! He's usually busy writing his songs or in the studio recording, so quickies are always a yes for him.
R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)
He loves experimenting, but he's usually the one to initiate it due to his impulsive behavior. If it’s something you're not willing to try he'd absolutely respect that. But if you brought something up? Oh baby he's down to do whatever as long as it doesn't put either of you in danger. Wanna try out bondage? Go ahead and get comfortable because you'll be tied up for a while.
S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)
When he's not high out of his mind, he doesn't go that many rounds usually 2 will be enough to get him tired. But when he's off some? Ooh boy you better prepare yourself. This man is a beast when he pops a pill, you'll be so exhausted by the time he's finished. Expect around 4-5 rounds with him before he's all out of energy.
T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)
I don't think he has that many to be frank, at most he has a vibrator or two, maybe a cock ring if you wanna be bold. I think he's so cocky and confident about his skills that he finds them to be unnecessary. Sometimes if you're having trouble cumming he’ll take one out and use it on you, but it always gets out of hand due to the fact that he wants to see you squirt from the toy. “Cmon baby, I know you can do it. Don't you wanna make me happy? I know it'll feel so good for you so just relax and squirt all over this toy”
U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)
I fear this man is the biggest teaser throughout the whole show. He'd find a way to tease you about anything and everything. In the bedroom you are not getting a MOMENT of peace. This man will edge you and overstimulate you all in the same night. He’ll find a way to tease you about the noises you make, saying “Aww baby, you're being so loud! Am I making you feel that good? Don't be shy, you can admit that I'm the best at making you cum.”
V - Volume (How loud are they?)
He's not too loud when it comes to his noises, just occasional growl and grunt. He's definitely into dirty talk though, a lot of it. You'll hear him say stuff like “That's my good bitch, taking my cock up her cunt like the good girl she is. Don't worry baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good you won't know what to do with yourself.”
W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)
He's always wanted someone to do a line of coke off his cock while he was hard.
X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)
He's about 5’11, a little on the thinner side, but he's still toned. I think he's a lot girthier than he is long, so about 5.7 inches, but his girth makes up for it. His tip color is a deeper pink color, around #E0676B. He has a slight curve down, with a thick vein running down the left side of his shaft.
Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)
This man wants to do it with you every day. Not only is it the drugs that get him worked up, but just seeing you looking so damn sexy just being yourself, he could take you anytime anywhere, regardless of who's around.
Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)
I feel like he falls asleep very fast. After he's done making sure you're okay, he's slumped. He is not the type to wait for you to sleep first before he does.
(I've cooked with this one guys I cannot even lie. Thank you all sm for the recent support! I truly appreciate all the attention my work has gotten!)
Taglist:
@xera4170
#squid game#squid game smut#squid game 2#choi su bong#player 230#thanos#squid game fanfic#squid game fandom
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can you write a fix of paige as a mom to a teen girl who she catches trying to sneak out
Sneaking out - Pazzi’s daughter
Sum: paige catches Saylor sneaking out
Warnings: none for now I don’t think
Notes: I hope I did this justice 🤞 I know some people have said they’re excited for this fic so I’m honestly hoping you guys all like this
Wc: 1k
Pair: paige x daughter!oc (Saylor)
Saylors Masterlist
“Just climb out your window, It’s not that hard dude.” Saylor’s friend Jasmine says over the phone. “My moms could catch me Jas, then I’ll be grounded. Then what?”
“You’re acting like your moms even pay attention to you bro, they’re way to famous and busy to pay attention to what you of all people are doing. Sneak out through your window or we are leaving without you. We are not gonna get caught because your a scaredy cat” Jasmine says not leaving room for argument and hanging up the phone
Saylor sighs bringing her phone down from her ear and looking at the picture of her moms and her on Christmas morning a few years back that is taped to her vanity mirror. Back in a time where Saylor wasn’t constantly being looked down on by her friends, and was actually happy. Back in a time where she wasn’t a complete disappointment to her moms, and they didn’t have to constantly ground her.
Saylor takes a deep breath and then gets up from her bed and walking to her closet to start getting ready. After Saylor got dressed and did her hair and makeup, she texted her friend group chat that she was ready to be picked up - getting left on read
With them not responding and giving her an estimated time of when they’ll be here, she sat by her window waiting.
When they finally do get to the Bueckers household after around 35 minutes when it’s a 14 minute drive, Saylor opens her window and climbs out carefully turning around to close her window a little bit
“Hey bug, do you wanna watch a movie with me? Mama’s gonna be home lat-“ Saylor froze immediately seeing her mom walk into her room while she was pulling the window down. “Get in the house” Paige says in a monotone voice
Jasmine and the others could see Paige through the window and immediately drove off, leaving Saylor to fend for herself.
Saylor slowly climbs back into her room and stands by the window with her head down and hands clasped behind her back. Paige scoffs “What? You not gonna look at me now?”
Saylor just keeps her head down, “living room! NOW!” Paige says and then commands when Saylor doesn’t move. Saylor walks past Paige and walks downstairs to the living room - sitting on the couch and waiting for Paige to come back.
“You wanna tell me where you were going?” Paige says while walking down the stairs and to the couch - sitting down in front of Saylor.
Saylor just keeps her head down and looks at her hands in her lap. “Hello? I’m talking to you!” Paige says still trying to get Saylors attention “Saylor Jade Bueckers, look at me and answer the question now!” Paige says sternly, making Saylor shake her head
“No? You’re gonna tell me no? After I just caught YOU trying to sneak out?” Paige says baffled about how her daughter’s been acting recently “Fine you wanna play this game? Let’s play this game! You’re grounded for two months - no phone, no tv, no video games, you will have my old phone with mine and Azzi’s phone numbers that you can call and text ONLY us with and you will turn it in, to one of us when you’re home from school. You use your computer ONLY for school. No basketball or dance for two weeks-“
“Mom! No! You can’t do that! College recruiters are watching us now at games and recitals, how are they supposed to see me if you do that?!”
“I guess you should have thought about that before you decided to sneak out!” Paige yells making Saylor look back down at her hands and try to hold in her tears “I will call your coaches tomorrow morning and tell them that you are not to be participating in practices, games, recitals, all of that for two weeks. You are to go to school and come home immediately. You also now have a bedtime, me and Azzi will come and check on you randomly. Oh and I will be installing cameras around the house and outside of your windows tomorrow”
“Mom!-“ “Do NOT mom me right now Saylor Jade! What did you think was gonna happen when you decided to sneak out? That we would just never find out? That we wouldn’t care? What?! Tell me what you thought was gonna happen?! And let’s mention how you always get ungrounded and then immediately do something to get you grounded again! What is going on with you?! Paige yelled again just to be met with silence
“Go to your room!” Paige said pinching the bridge of her nose “mom-“ Saylor starts but gets cut off “Go. To. Your. Room. Saylor” Paige say’s strictly making Saylor sniffle and slowly get up and start making her way to the stairs
When she reaches them Paige stops her “While you’re up there, think about what you’ve done in the last year. Think about how you’ve been acting for the last 2+ years. And while you’re at it, try to find my daughter for me cause the girl standing in front of me is not my daughter. My daughter is a sweet girl that does her homework the day she gets it even if it’s not due for a month, she wants to dance and play basketball, she wants to go to college, my daughter wouldn’t throw her whole life away for some party, or alcohol & drugs, or even a fling” Paige says tearing up that she even has to say this
Saylor just looks at the ground and makes her way upstairs and to her room, getting in her bed and under the covers finally letting the tears fall.
I’m such a disappointment is all that is ringing through her head
@melpthatsme
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x fem!reader#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers x reader#paige x reader#uconn x reader#paige bueckers fic#wnba x reader#azzi fudd#paige x azzi#pazzi fics#pazzi x daughter!oc#starlighttsv’s works
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I love your stupid Pizza Steve pfp and the sabateur drabbles.
I was wondering, what if at first Batsib was sabotaging Darling out getting attention out of Bruce; however, after a while, Batsib starts craving the Darling's attention?
Every time Darling gets punished, it's Batsib who comforts them. All of their attention is on Batsib. Any form of attention given is what they want. It's what they crave.
Batsib pretends to be powerless, unable to do anything to help them. Like really playing up the defenseless submissive softboy/girl/person(?). While in secret, is fully smitten with the idea of having complete control over Darling, enjoying the fact that he is needed by them, and is wanted more by Darling than the people who actually kidnapped Darling.
I can imagine the confrontation where they find out why they keep sabotaging and mentally fucking Darling, would be interesting.
Thanks!
…
Saboteur: Two Most Wanted Prequel Pt.1
Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader
Notes: typical yandere themes, platonic relationship between batsib and darling, I’m writing this w/ a massive headache rn
…
What if batsib realizes that Darling’s attention is all they need…
🦇 - there’s a sick sort of satisfaction you get from knowing that the family’s darling loves you
🦇 - you’re their shoulder to cry on, their only sense of reprieve, and the closest thing to a real sibling
🦇 - after being punished nonstop by Bruce for things they may or may not have done (looking at you batsib). Darling can’t help but make you their designated friend
🦇 - Darling hugs you every time you hide them in your room from Dick’s obsessive behavior
🦇 - they scribble drawings of you and them on post it notes. You purposefully leave the drawings out so that the batboys have to see
🦇 - Darling goes on long tangents about what the two of you can do once they’re free. They roll around on your polka dot rug, detailing future trips to the mall or swimming at the beach
🦇 - you tried to stay strong. Denying the warm feeling in your chest whenever Darling affectionately called you their sibling
🦇 - it wasn’t until you’re birthday that you realized you loved Darling too. Maybe even more than your brothers
…
Your birthday was a quiet one. Alfred had served you a slice of cake and presented you with a wad of cash. It was impersonal but at least he remembered.
You took the rest of the cake to your room and ate in silence. The tv played one of your comfort shows but it did nothing to ease the heartbreak. How could your father and brothers forget your birthday? After all you’ve done for them…
Your silent brooding is interrupted by an excited knock at the door. Whoever’s behind the door doesn’t wait for an answer and swings it open.
Darling peaks their head in and smiles. They enter your room and shut the door with the heel of their foot. Before you can question their presence, Darling breaks into song.
Darling sings some horrible rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ and you can’t help but laugh. Their antics lift your sour mood. Darling, pleased with their work, plops down in front of you. They’re holding a small, brown box with a yellow ribbon tied around it.
“I know it’s small but is the best I could do,” Darling chirps. You eye them curiously before opening the gift.
You feel tears well in your eyes at the contents of the box. It’s a wooden duck, no bigger than the size of your palm. No one has ever spent so much effort on you.
You look up at Darling, “Did you whittle this yourself?” You turn the duck in your hand, the detail is impressive. You wonder if one of the knives you caught them stealing was used to make it.
“Yup! I made you a duck because they symbolize family and love!” Darling grabs one of your stuffed animals and begins to play with its ears.
The guilt overpowers you. You’ve been treating them like crap but this whole time they cared about you.
You don’t say anything and lean forward to hug them. “Thank you,” you whisper. Darling hugs you back, oblivious to your previous betrayal.
You decide right then and there that you’ll make a change. They’re your new sibling. Who cares if Bruce and the batboys don’t care about you. You don’t need them anymore. You have Darling now.
…
Extra notes: my head hurts😫
Tag list:
@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96
#dc x reader#dcu#yandere batfam x reader#batfam x reader#platonic batman#yandere platonic batfamily x reader#gn reader#sibling reader#batsib!reader#batsiblings#platonic yandere x reader#yandere x reader
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THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION
GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE
warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.
synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.
a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell
series masterlist
Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.
“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:
“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.
It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.
“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.
His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.
The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.
Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.
But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.
Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.
Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.
“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.
This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.
There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?
“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”
“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.
He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.
Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.
“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”
“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”
Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.
“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”
“Sounds like she’s ugly.”
“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”
Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.
Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.
“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”
“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.
“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.
“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.
“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”
“The fuck does that mean?!”
“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.
“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.
“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.
It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.
Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.
“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.
“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”
“Wait, so you’re in?”
“Whatever.”
“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.
The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.
“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.
“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.
“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.
Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.
“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.
Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”
“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.
And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.
“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”
“Fuck is this? A video game?”
“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.
“Fine. A month.”
“Just a month?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.
“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.
“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.
“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.
“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.
“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”
There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.
A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.
“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.
Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.
“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.
“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.
“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.
“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”
“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.
He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.
1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina
2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober
3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)
4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)
5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)
He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.
He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.
taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru smut#geto smut#satoru smut#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#geto x you#geto x y/n#the rich man’s guide to corruption
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HI TARA!!! my thoughts while reading are under the cut :'))) but i gotta say that i fall in love w ur writing every time i read something from u:
• i would like to start off w the fact that u set the scene so incredibly well, like im in awe and envy at this beautiful scene ur painting for us 😭 not to mention that it all flows really well too; just a strong opening paragraph
• awwwh PLS THE BIG BROTHER LITTLE SISTER DYNAMIC!!! when the little sis thinks the absolute world of her big bro :'))) and when she's even more mad than he is LMAO the TOAD LINE??? damn seokmin i was not aware of ur game
• lowkey i would have folded that fast too if duke lee seokmin of lancaster played along and kissed my hand
• this starting line ^ crazy good... like i'd like to sear this into my mind so i never forget it?? the social szn unfolds like a delicate fan??? adding another layer to the tapestry of ur life??? lee seokmin????
• HE HAS AN UNCANNY ABILITY TO ELEVATE THE ORDINARY UGHHHHH WHAAAAT A LINE i love that so, so much and it's so true as well
• awwwh yn and seokhao's goodbyes are so sweet :'')))) im so glad they all hold so much affection for one another
• "your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes could bear" im cryingksnfkdnjf seokmin sulking over the wool while he's away,, sometimes i like to imagine him as a damsel draping himself out of the window sill of a tower
• i love how yn describes herself feeling empty while hes away like heh... i know something u dont... heh :))))) and crocheting? me too!!! so cute that she made him smth
• TARA U R A MASTER AT IMAGERY!! the opening lines of age 15 are mwah chefs kiss like if i could draw/paint, i would literally turn this fic into a graphic novel for u
• tulip... brb while i burst into tears
• started grinning like an idiot while reading this ^ i can see his playful melodrama and the smile on his face,,, im so down bad like i would fold like a lawn chair if we played around like this irl (i say as a grown ass woman)
• oh how i do love the classic brushing of the limbs that gets the mcs blushing like hell... also love what u did there w the planting seeds in ur mind to decode later while they're literally planting flowers... i see u tara u genius
• oh wow the total 180 w the reveal of the duke's death (also seokmin addressing her as my dearest tulip TT) — thinking of seokmin entering the social szn as a recently-made duke and all the girls hounding after him in his fresh grief......
• this section (seok and hao just got back after the death reveal) is short but so bittersweet. like when u give seok the swords from the flower bed and he just kind of chuckles like yes... days gone by huh... UGH
• it breaks my heart to know that seokhao now have their dead fathers as something in common 😭😭😭 its sweet tho to know they're all looking out for each other. im w yn tho, i hope hers and haos relationship isnt negatively affected by this :'))
• THE RETURN OF THE TAPESTRY METAPHOR
• okay i have to confess something... this is my second time reading thru... and so im reading the part where minghao and yn talk in the garden and he's warning her of the whispers springing up abt her and seok and im like... freaking out bc i KNOW WHAT HAPPENS 😭 IM GNAWING MY FIST LIKE IK THAT HAO'D CONCERN IS SINCERE AND IM JUST SJFNKENFKFJF THIS SCENE HOLDS SO MUCH MORE WEIGHT DURING A REREAD (why i love comparing my thoughts btwn a first and second read tho, like u see things /differently/)
• i love the teasing and sweet assurances in the letters 😭 like they're so genuine and cute (rip minghao)
• AHHHHH THE SMOKING SCENE FROM SZN ONEEEE i like this change of dynamic tho instead of being btwn siblings, it's now btwn two love interests friends
• WE CANT ALWAYS HAVE WHAT OUR HEARTS DESIRE???? WHILE LOOKING AT US LIKE THAT LEE SEOKMIN????????? HHEHDJDJFJFJKFKFK
• sure sure fencing BUT YEARNING TO FIND LOVE?? BUT MY DEAR SIR?? YOUR GRACE, YOUR LOVE IS RIGHT NEXT TO U
• THE LONGING AND ASPECT OF THE FORBIDDEN MAKES THE SMALL DISTANCE BTWN U YAWN LIKE A CHASM AHHHH THIS PASSAGE!!!! like oof... i love angst and yearning like this, where im screaming at my phone screen to just kiss her already (knowing the... perilous journey ahead... heh...)
• friend.... FRIEND???? brb gonna go waltz into oncoming traffic
• oh the way this ends 😭😭😭 like my heart is being squeezed,,, the way he whispers tulip and the roots of ur love for him take hold UGGGHH!!! I CANT DO THIS
i will have to endure for another day tho and i will return for chapter two tmrw! i loved this even more than the first time i read it (and i loved it a lot then too)!! i was really able to sit w ur words this time, and i do have to say tara that u have such a talent for imagery, like omg this was so beautiful TT but thank u for writing this!! hope ur having a lovely day/night and i'll be back o7 💖
The Somerset Affair | Chapter 1: Whispers in the Garden
pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.2k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, eventual smut, more to be added a/n: CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY HEREEEE // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys this could not have happened without you // 2nd chapter will be up soon!!!
summary: lee seokmin is a scoundrel for having beaten your brother at fencing. or... is he?
comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here!
Age 8
Mayfair is alive today. The Somerset estate hums with energy, a ripple of excitement passing through the gathered crowd, their eyes all fixed on the fencing match taking place in the wide, manicured garden. The afternoon sun casts a golden haze over the scene, warming the air and wrapping everything in a soft, honeyed glow. Laughter and chatter float like music across the grounds, underscored by the occasional ring of steel clashing against steel. The sweet fragrance of roses drifts on the light breeze, mingling with the fresh scent of cut grass. You sit near the front, your small hands gripping the edge of your chair, bouncing with excitement as you watch your older brother, Minghao, spar against a boy you've never seen before.
This new boy stands tall, his dark hair tousled in the breeze, and a sharp determination shines in his eyes. The way he moves—it’s confident, with an energy that seems far beyond his years. Your brother, usually so self-assured, falters as the boy steps onto the mat. A flicker of unease passes through you, twisting in your stomach. You can feel the tension, see it in the way Minghao adjusts his grip on his sword. The match begins, and every time the swords collide, the sound reverberates through your chest. Your heart sinks a little more with each point your brother loses, and soon, the inevitable happens—the newcomer disarms Minghao with a flourish so smooth it draws gasps and murmurs from the audience.
"Such skill!" someone whispers, while others erupt in applause, their cheers filling the air. But you remain still, arms crossed tightly over your chest, brows drawn into a deep frown. How dare this boy defeat your brother? And so effortlessly! You want to scowl, to hold on to your anger, but the sound of the crowd’s cheers washes over you, making your resentment grow.
Seokmin—that’s his name, you overhear—steps forward, offering Minghao a hand, his smile wide and bright like the afternoon sun. "A splendid match, my lord," he says, his voice rich and full of youthful pride. "I must confess, I didn’t expect to come away unscathed!"
You narrow your eyes, watching as your brother, ever gracious, accepts the handshake. There's a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression, a good-natured acknowledgment of defeat. They exchange lighthearted jests, their laughter mixing with the lingering applause. But you? You're fuming. This boy, with his easy smile and seemingly endless charm, had just bested your brother, and you feel a burning need to dislike him for it.
Then, as if sensing your discontent, Seokmin turns to you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, you must be Lord Minghao’s sister?” he says, his grin widening into something playful, teasing. “Goodness, you make him look like a toad by comparison!”
Your mouth drops open in shock, a wave of indignation rushing through you. How dare he say such a thing? And worse—how could your brother laugh? "I beg your pardon?" you snap, standing as tall as your small frame will allow, arms crossing even tighter across your chest.
"Oh, I mean no offense, miss," Seokmin chuckles, clapping Minghao on the shoulder. "I jest, of course! Merely saying that you’re far lovelier than your brother—though, admittedly, it’s not a particularly high bar."
Despite yourself, your scowl begins to soften. There’s something about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the lightness in his voice. It’s hard to stay angry when he looks at you like that, as if daring you to join in on the joke.
“Mama says men who try to charm without revealing their titles aren’t to be trusted,” you counter, lifting your chin with defiant pride. The quip comes out sharper than intended, but you’re determined not to let him get the better of you.
Minghao gasps, hands raised in mock horror. “Sister, truly, must you always speak so boldly?” He turns to Seokmin with an exaggerated sigh. “Please Seokmin, do forgive her. I assure you, turning eight has done little to improve her temperament.”
“You’re only two years older than me, brother!” you huff, your voice a touch more indignant. Before you can continue, though, Seokmin drops into a low, dramatic bow, the movement exaggerated and theatrical.
“The fault is entirely mine, my lady,” he says in mock seriousness, rising and extending his hand toward you. “Lord Lee Seokmin, future Duke of Lancaster. At your service.”
Two years of etiquette lessons flood your mind, and with a sudden burst of excitement, you place your small hand in his. Seokmin bows once more, this time dropping a playful kiss on your knuckles as you curtsy. You can hear Minghao’s exasperated sigh as he rolls his eyes, but you ignore him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Maybe Seokmin isn't such a scoundrel after all.
As the day wears on, you find yourself watching Seokmin from the corner of your eye. Despite your earlier indignation, there’s something undeniably captivating about him. You notice the way he treats everyone with kindness, far beyond what’s expected from someone his age. When a younger child stumbles near the fencing ring, it’s Seokmin who rushes to their side, kneeling in the dirt, his voice gentle as he asks, "Are you alright?" He helps the child up, brushing off their clothes with such care, you can’t help but be touched. "Fear not," he says, a smile returning to his face, "you’re not a toad—you’re a knight in training!"
The sight makes your heart soften further. How could someone so infuriating also be so kind? The lines of irritation you had drawn between you and Seokmin begin to blur, shifting into something more like curiosity.
As the sun sinks low, casting a warm amber glow over the estate, you find yourself gravitating closer to where Seokmin and Minghao stand, their voices rising and falling in animated conversation about fencing techniques. Seokmin’s laughter, bright and carefree, fills the air like music, and before you know it, you’re smiling too; there’s something undeniably magnetic about him.
Despite your best efforts, you can no longer deny the strange fluttering in your chest—a curiosity, perhaps even fascination, that you hadn’t expected. Maybe, just maybe, Seokmin isn’t such a scoundrel after all.
The days of the social season unfold like a delicate fan, each gathering adding another layer to the tapestry of your life, and with every event, Seokmin becomes a constant presence. He is no longer just an occasional guest—he’s a breath of fresh air, his laughter ringing through the halls of your family’s estate, turning even the dullest moments into something lively and bright.
The lively soirées your parents host become a stage for his effortless charm. Ladies in the latest fashions exchange flirtatious glances in his direction, while gentlemen engage in animated debates about politics and sport, the buzz of conversation always punctuated by Seokmin’s easy laughter. His presence transforms these gatherings, turning what once felt like routine social maneuvering into vibrant affairs filled with warmth and genuine joy.
Whether he’s lending a hand to your mother in the garden, his sleeves rolled up and face relaxed in concentration, or sparring with your brother in a friendly match, Seokmin has this uncanny ability to elevate the ordinary. What might be a simple afternoon stroll or an idle conversation becomes a moment of significance when he’s around. Sun-drenched afternoons spent wandering the estate take on a new glow, each moment painted with the sound of his voice, the infectious energy he brings.
Age 14
The day Minghao and Seokmin leave for Eton is etched in your mind with vivid clarity, every detail sharp and impossible to forget. The morning is cool, yet the sun spills across the courtyard in golden rays, casting long shadows from the trees that sway gently in the breeze. The scent of dew-laden grass mixes with the faint perfume of your mother’s rose garden, but even the beauty of the estate feels muted by the melancholy lingering in the air.
Minghao, ever composed, stands with the straight posture expected of him, his hands clasped behind his back, looking every inch the young man ready to step into his responsibilities. His face, though calm, carries the weight of leaving home, but he hides it well, his eyes betraying only a flicker of the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
Seokmin, on the other hand, struggles more visibly with the impending farewell. His usual cheerful grin falters, the lightness of his presence dimmed as he glances between you and Minghao. He tries to keep up his usual charm, cracking jokes that feel just a little too forced, his laughter not ringing as true as it normally does. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness you haven’t seen before, as if he’s trying to hide his own sadness behind that well-worn mask of joviality.
As they load their trunks into the carriage, a heavy knot forms in your chest. You know you’ll miss your brother, but it’s Seokmin’s departure that stings deeper. He’s been more than a friend these past years—he’s been a constant, a steady warmth you’ve come to rely on. His laughter, his easy charm, the way he could turn even the most mundane day into something special. The thought of him being gone, of not seeing him wander the estate with his boundless energy, makes your heart ache in a way you didn’t anticipate.
You step forward, your fingers trembling as you reach for Seokmin’s hand, your grip tighter than intended. “Promise me you’ll write?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word trembling with the effort to hold back tears.
Seokmin’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his usual grin giving way to something gentler. "Of course," he says, his voice steady but quieter than usual. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture meant to comfort. “I’ll make sure you get the best letters—no boring stories, only adventures, I swear.” His grin returns, albeit a little weaker. "Besides, my lady, your brother and I will be back to torment you again come springtime!"
Minghao coughs politely. “No tearful goodbye for me, sister?” he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of affection in his words. His eyes flicker between you and Seokmin, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, though his posture remains upright and composed as ever.
You tear your gaze from Seokmin and offer your brother a watery smile. “Do not fret, dear brother,” you say, a bit of your usual wit returning. “I’ll save the tears for later, when the house is quiet without the two of you causing chaos.”
My Dearest Y/N,
I trust this letter finds you in fine spirits, though I daresay it is far more likely that you are wrapped in the cozy embrace of your favorite blanket, lost in a book, while the world outside continues on its merry way. I cannot help but smile at the thought, for you have always possessed the rare gift of finding joy in the mundane.
Eton is quite a spectacle, I must confess. The architecture is enough to make one feel as though they have stepped into a storybook. However, I must admit my fellow classmates lack the charm and wit of my beloved friend.
Oh, how I miss our little chats! It is a curious sensation to feel so far from home, yet I am bolstered by the knowledge that you are there, keeping our little world intact. Do tell me that you have not yet taken up knitting—your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes can bear.
Yours most fondly,Seokmin
My Dearest Seokmin,
Eton sounds positively enchanting.I must admit, the thought of you amidst all that grandeur brings me no small measure of joy—though I do hope you have not yet been swept away by the grandeur of it all! I find it impossible to imagine anyone there being quite as dashing as you.
Life here, as you suspected, is a touch quieter without your vivacious presence. I feel compelled to admit that I found myself rather melancholic the day you left. It was a curious sadness, one that clung to me like a shadow. The house feels a touch emptier, and while I do find solace in my books, nothing compares to the ease of our conversations. The warmth of your laughter is a melody I find myself longing for, especially on the coldest evenings.
Do keep writing, dear friend. Your tales from Eton are the very lifeblood of my days, and I shall regale you with the ongoing drama of our little realm. Until then, consider me your most devoted fan, ever eager for your next missive.
With all my affection,Y/N
P.S. You will take great pleasure in knowing that I have, in fact, taken up crocheting. A lovely cap, perfect for early springtime chill, awaits you at the estate.
Age 15:
Seokmin’s return each spring is as reliable as the first crocus peeking through the thawing earth, marking the true end of winter. His arrival is never just an event—it’s a burst of life that sweeps away the dullness left by the cold months. Every year, your excitement bubbles over as you anticipate that familiar moment when the world feels a little brighter with his return. The sunlight bathes the garden in warmth, a golden hue spreading like liquid over the well-trodden path he walks down, Minghao beside him. Their laughter floats through the air, a melody that harmonizes with the soft rustle of blooming flowers and the hum of spring.
When they finally come into view, your heart quickens, as if drawn into the rhythm of their steps. With Minghao’s ever-amiable grin and Seokmin’s radiant energy, they are a pair that seems to make the world tilt just a little toward joy. Every spring, it's the same—they stride toward you as if no time has passed, as if the long months apart were nothing but a brief blink in the grander scheme of your lives. And each time, the three of you fall into the same routines as though nothing has changed.
It usually begins with some mischief. They never fail to poke fun at you until you’re red-faced with exasperation. Seokmin, with that teasing glint in his eyes, will say something absurd or playfully condescending, and Minghao, ever the instigator, will back him up with a sly smirk. It’s only a matter of time before you lose your patience, yell, and stomp your foot, your protests ringing louder than you’d intended.
Your raised voice inevitably draws the attention of your mother, who reprimands you from the kitchen window with her usual fond disapproval. "Now, now," she’ll chide, a soft laugh hidden in her voice. "There’s no need to shout, dear. They’re only playing."
Of course, that’s the cue for Seokmin and Minghao to burst into laughter, doubling over in amusement at how easily they’ve ruffled your feathers. You scowl at them, but it’s hard to keep a frown on your face when they’re both so gleeful, their joy infectious, lighting up the entire garden.
One afternoon, not long after their return, Seokmin and Minghao find their old practice fencing swords—long forgotten and buried deep in the flowerbeds, peeking out from beneath the tulips. You watch as they unearth the swords with a mixture of surprise and amusement, both of them laughing as if uncovering a treasure trove of memories. Their faces are bright with nostalgia as they pull the dirt-encrusted weapons free, brushing off the petals clinging to the blades.
It's then that Seokmin starts to call you "Tulip," a private little nickname he utters only when it's just the two of you. The first time he says it, there’s a lightness to his tone, his lips curling into that mischievous smile of his. “You know,” he says, leaning in closer as you both watch Minghao attempt a ridiculous fencing stance in the distance, “it only makes sense. After all, you’ve been hiding our swords with the tulips. I think ‘Tulip’ suits you.”
At first, you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance, but there’s a warmth in your chest at how easily he’s assigned you such a tender nickname.
One particularly warm afternoon, your mother summons you to help her with the flowerbeds, a chore you reluctantly take on. The sun beats down, the heat pressing into your skin and the earth beneath your fingers, while the scent of soil and fresh blossoms hangs thick in the air. You sigh, resigning yourself to the tedious task when, suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the stillness.
“Ah, the fair lady in her noble endeavor!” Seokmin’s voice rings out, full of his usual playful grandeur. He strides through the garden gate, sweeping an imaginary cape behind him with exaggerated flair. His smile is as bright as the sun itself, lighting up the whole space. “Fear not, for I shall be your loyal squire in this quest for botanical beauty!”
Despite your earlier annoyance, a reluctant smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Seokmin has a way of making even the most mundane tasks feel like an adventure. You watch as he bounds toward you, his movements light and full of energy. With an exaggerated show of determination, he rolls up his sleeves, pretending to prepare for battle. The weight of the day feels lighter already.
Together, the two of you dig your hands into the soil, your fingers dirty and the air filled with the soft rustling of the leaves around you. Laughter bubbles up between the two of you, mingling with the breeze as Seokmin’s animated voice brings life to the still afternoon. As you plant flower after flower, he regales you with tales of his fencing matches at Eton, his voice lively, arms waving dramatically to mimic the grand duels he’s fought.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he says with mock gravity, “this boy was at least twice my size, and I won the match with nothing but clever footwork and a flick of the wrist!” He pantomimes the move, his arm cutting through the air like a sword.
You laugh, shaking your head at his theatrical retelling, the tension of the task dissolving with every story. It’s impossible not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. “Is that so?” you tease, barely holding back a grin.
“I daresay, footwork in fencing is quite the advantageous skill,” Seokmin says, dropping to his knees beside you with faux-seriousness, inspecting the flowerbed as though it holds the secrets to the universe. “If one can move with the grace of a dancer, one can—”
Just as he gestures again, his elbow brushes against your arm, and suddenly, time seems to slow. The lighthearted atmosphere is pierced by a spark, a ripple of warmth that travels through you. Both of you freeze, his eyes widening in surprise. His cheeks flush a light pink as he quickly pulls back, his confidence faltering for a brief second.
“My sincerest apologies,” he stammers, the usual brightness in his voice now tinged with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He resumes his work, his fingers trembling slightly as they sift through the soil. The warmth of the sun suddenly pales in comparison to the heat between you.
“It’s quite all right,” you reply, your voice shaky, your heartbeat far more rapid than you’d like. “Just... gardening, after all.” You try for casualness, but the words sound ridiculous even to your own ears, given the charged air lingering between you.
Moments later, you stand to stretch, hoping to shake off the strange energy that has settled over the both of you. Seokmin leans in to grab a nearby tool, and his shoulder brushes against yours again—this time, the contact lingers for just a second too long. The heat of it sends another jolt through you, making your heart stutter.
You gasp, startled by the unfamiliar sensation, your breath hitching. The warmth spreads from your chest down to your fingertips, a strange, foreign feeling you can’t quite name.
“Goodness! I beg your pardon again,” Seokmin says quickly, his sheepish smile returning, though this time it’s softer, more hesitant. His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place. “It seems I have a propensity for unintentional collisions today.”
That smile—it makes your chest tighten. His presence, usually a source of comfort, now awakens something new within you, something unsettling yet undeniable. Gardening, once nothing but a mundane chore, has transformed into something far more intimate with Seokmin by your side. The flowerbeds seem to flourish under his laughter, vibrant blooms swaying as if they, too, revel in the joy of the moment.
But that foreign sensation? You tuck it deep into your mind, burying it along with the seeds you’ve planted, afraid to decode what it could mean. After all, this is Seokmin—your friend, your constant. And yet, the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin longer than it should, as if it’s quietly asking you to look closer.
My Dearest Seokmin,
I hope this letter finds you in moments of solace amidst the tumult of your recent loss. It is with a heavy heart that I pen these words, having heard of your father’s passing. The news struck me with such a weight, as though the very air around me had grown thick with sorrow. I cannot begin to fathom the grief you must be experiencing, yet please know that my thoughts and prayers are ever with you during this difficult time.
Your father was a remarkable man, a beacon of kindness and integrity, and his absence will undoubtedly leave a profound void in the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing him. I remember fondly the stories you shared, of his wisdom and warmth, which have clearly shaped the exceptional person you have become. His legacy, I have no doubt, will endure through you.
With his passing, I know you now bear the title of Duke. While this new responsibility may feel daunting, I have every confidence you will honor his legacy with the same grace and strength he embodied. I want you to remember that you are not alone. I am here, dear friend, steadfast and unwavering, ready to support you as you navigate this uncharted territory.
I eagerly await the day when I can see your smile again, and we can talk about the flowers in the garden, just as we always have.
With all my love and deepest sympathies,Y/N
My Dearest Tulip,
Your letter brought me a flicker of light amidst the shadows that have enveloped me since my father’s passing. It is a solace to know that you, too, share in my grief, and your words resonate deeply within me, reminding me that I am not alone in this turbulent sea of sorrow.
Thank you for your kind remembrance of my father. He often spoke of you with such fondness, and knowing how he impacted your life brings me a measure of comfort. His lessons of kindness and integrity remain etched in my heart, and I strive to honor his legacy in every decision I make as Duke. It is a weight I carry with both pride and trepidation, yet the knowledge of your unwavering support gives me strength.
Though this season feels uncharted and daunting, your friendship is a cherished constant. I, too, long for the day when we can stroll through the gardens, exchanging thoughts about the flowers and sharing laughter, just as we once did. Until then, I will hold onto the warmth of your words and the memories we’ve created.
With heartfelt gratitude and affection,Seokmin
Age 16:
When Seokmin and Minghao return home the next spring, it’s clear that Seokmin carries more than just the usual joy and liveliness he always brings with him. A new weight settles over him, one you haven’t seen before. The responsibility of the Dukedom starts to bear down on him, heavy as the cloak he will one day wear. His laugh remains bright, his smile still warm, but there’s something different now—an unspoken awareness that the carefree boy of the past is slowly giving way to the man he is becoming.
He has grown taller, his limbs long and strong, and the way he carries himself now commands attention. The once-boyish face is now defined, the angle of his jaw sharper, while his arms, corded with muscles, show the signs of hard work and training. It’s as if each inch he’s gained has come with a newfound strength, and when he meets your gaze, his eyes hold a certain seriousness, as if he is seeing everything with a fresh perspective.
The easy rhythm of your old routines stays intact—Minghao teasing you until you yell, Seokmin’s booming laughter echoing across the fields, and the reprimands from your mother when your playful shouts interrupt her afternoon peace. It all feels the same, yet beneath it all, you know things are changing.
On one such afternoon, you discover their practice swords—once lost and forgotten—buried haphazardly in the flowerbed among your mother’s beloved tulips. You pull them free with a gasp, the soil still clinging to the metal, and when you bring them to Seokmin, he chuckles, the sound a little sadder than you remember.
“Well,” he says, wiping the dirt from the hilt, “seems like even the tulips want to keep us from growing up too fast, eh, Tulip?”
Despite the weight of responsibility that now shadows him, he still calls you “Tulip.” The name slips easily from his lips, playful and tender, a thread that ties your past to the present. The quiet nickname carries the bittersweet truth: your days of carefree adventures and playful banter are slowly fading, giving way to the responsibilities of adulthood. And while the world around you shifts, that name—whispered in secret—feels like a promise that some part of him, some part of both of you, will always stay the same.
My dearest Tulip,
It is with a heart full of sorrow that I write to you, upon receiving the most distressing news regarding your father’s passing. The world seems dimmer without him, and my thoughts are consumed with the weight of your grief. I wish I could be there, to hold your hand and share in the memories of a man who undoubtedly brought so much light into your life.
When the silence envelops you, when the days stretch long and heavy with unshed tears, know that I am here for you. You need not wear a mask of strength; I shall not expect it. Life has a way of changing in an instant, and though we are thrust into roles we may not be prepared for, there remains solace in companionship.
Please remember, my dear friend, you are not alone in this journey. I stand with you, ready to lend my support and share in whatever you need.
With the utmost affection,Seokmin
My dearest Seokmin,
Your letter reached me at a time when silence has settled heavily over the estate, wrapping around us like a shroud. It feels as though the laughter that once danced through these halls has been swallowed by a void, leaving behind a hushed emptiness. My mother, once so vibrant, now moves about with an air of resignation, her spirit dimmed as if she carries the weight of the world upon her shoulders. The joy that once bloomed within her seems to have withered, and even the flowers in the garden appear to droop, their colors muted in sympathy for our grief.
I often find myself worrying for Minghao. The new title of duke weighs upon him like a heavy cloak, and I fear that the responsibilities thrust upon him will change him in ways I cannot yet understand. I can only imagine the burden he feels, trying to uphold our father's legacy while grappling with the uncertainties of leadership. It frightens me to think of how this shift may alter our relationship, how he might feel compelled to step into a role that distances him from the brother I’ve always known. I fear I may lose him just as I have lost my father.
Yet, amid this uncertainty, your words bring me a flicker of comfort. The knowledge that you stand with me during this turbulent time is a balm for my spirit. I long for your return, for the laughter and warmth that you bring.
Until then, I hold your friendship close to my heart, a gentle reminder that even in the darkest of times, I am not alone.
With all my affection,Y/N
Age 17:
At the onset of spring, when Minghao and Seokmin return to the estate, the world feels subtly transformed. The air is perfumed with the scent of blooming flowers, yet there’s an unmistakable weight in the atmosphere, a quiet acknowledgment of the changes that accompany their new titles. As dukes, both acquire an aura of responsibility that overshadows the playful ease they once share.
The lighthearted teasing that characterizes your interactions is now less frequent, often replaced by a more thoughtful camaraderie. It’s as though their titles impose a certain decorum upon them, one that even the most mischievous of spirits cannot easily shake off. Their laughter, while still present, bears the faintest echo of seriousness that wasn’t there before.
Yet, despite this change, you find immense joy in their company, particularly when they engage in spirited sparring sessions in the training yard. As wooden swords clash and echo, it’s impossible not to feel a thrill at the sight of them—two young gentlemen, once boys, now embodying a gravity that demands respect even in their play.
The matches become a spectacle, each clash of wooden swords accompanied by shouts and laughter that echo through the estate. You perch on the sidelines, an amused spectator, as Seokmin and Minghao banter playfully between bouts. “You call that a strike?” Seokmin teases, deftly dodging your brother’s advance with a lightness that seems almost effortless. “I’ve seen more ferocity from a kitten!”
Minghao rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth betraying a grin despite his best efforts to maintain an air of dignity. “One day, Seokmin, you shall learn that mocking your opponent is a perilous game.”
You perch on the sidelines, unable to stifle the laughter bubbling forth at their antics. Each exchange between them is a delightful dance, weaving a tapestry of shared history and unspoken affection. Yet, as you watch, you cannot help but feel a twinge of wistfulness; the exuberance of their banter now seems to emerge from a place tinged with nostalgia.
The sun dips low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the training yard; both young gentlemen wield their wooden swords with a fervor that sends a thrill through the onlookers. You remain at a distance, your heart pounding in rhythm with each clash of wood, an exhilaration mingled with unease coursing through you.
Seokmin, with his characteristic bravado, flashes a teasing grin as he engages your brother. “Come now, my lord! Surely you can do better than that!” The laughter in his voice rings like a bell, though you can’t help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your chest.
As the match continues, you find yourself transfixed by Seokmin’s agile movements, the way he dances about the training yard with a carefree spirit. However, just as you begin to relax, a delicate butterfly flits past, capturing Seokmin’s attention momentarily. It is in this fleeting distraction that your brother seizes his opportunity, lunging forward with surprising speed.
“Seokmin!” you cry out, the word escaping your lips before you can restrain it. Time seems to elongate as you watch, breathless, as Seokmin turns just in time to evade the wooden sword’s path. He stumbles slightly, regaining his balance as he casts a quick glance your way, surprise etched upon his handsome features.
With your heart racing, you dash to his side, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Are you quite well?” The urgency in your voice is unmistakable, for the thought of his injury sends a chill through you.
“Indeed, I am unharmed,” he replies, though the forced joviality of his laugh belies the tension of the moment. “Merely caught off guard, I assure you.”
Yet your heart refuses to calm. “You cannot be so reckless! What if you had been injured?” The fervor of your concern envelops you, and you see a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes as he steps closer, the air between you thick with a burgeoning intimacy. That same foreign sensation – the one from years ago when he had brushed against you in the gardens – ignites within you, one you had tucked away and kept hidden, rearing its head in this moment of vulnerability.
“Thank you, Tulip, for your ever-present concern for my well-being,” he murmurs, his voice lowered as he meets your gaze, the world around you fading into an indistinct haze. Just then, Minghao loudly clears his throat, and Seokmin drops his eyes, a bashful blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
You step away, embarrassed, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
Minghao corners you in the gardens that night, the cool summer breeze brushing against your skin as you take a walk, seeking solace from the tempest of thoughts swirling in your mind. The encounter with Seokmin lingers like a gentle whisper, an unsettling mixture of warmth and confusion that dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing you with emotions you struggle to understand.
“Sister,” he begins, his voice so soft that you nearly startle. In an instant, he presses a hand against your mouth, his finger raised in a quiet plea for silence. “It’s only me, Y/N. I fear you’ll wake the entire estate.”
“It’s your fault for skulking about the gardens like a common thief!” you whisper back, fiercely. “What on earth could possibly require such urgent discussion that you couldn’t grant me one night of peace?”
His expression grows serious, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “You must be careful, sister,” he admonishes, and in that moment, he seems less like your brother and more like the Duke of Somerset—tall, proud, and formidable. “There are whispers… about you and Seokmin.”
“Whispers? Whatever do you mean?” You search his face for clarification, anxiety bubbling within you.
Minghao shakes his head as if dismissing the very idea of this conversation. A wave of indignation washes over you, eager to burst forth. He may be only two years your elder, yet he still insists on treating you like a child. “Your debut into society draws near,” he continues, his voice measured and resolute. “You mustn’t jeopardize it.”
“But Minghao—” you begin, but he raises a hand, silencing you with a mere gesture.
“Listen. You know how these things unfold. A mere hint of impropriety could tarnish your reputation. I don’t want you to suffer from the kind of gossip that twists the truth.” His tone softens, revealing a hint of genuine concern that pierces through your indignation. “I only want what’s best for you.”
You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I am not a child anymore,” you protest, the tremor in your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and uncertainty. “I am capable of making my own choices.”
“Perhaps,” he replies, his eyes steady and unwavering. “But I have a responsibility to protect you, Y/N. I don’t wish to stifle your spirit, but you must grasp the implications of your actions.”
The night air grows thick with unspoken sentiments, and as the stars twinkle overhead like mischievous spectators, you grapple with the tumult in your heart. There’s something about Seokmin that sends ripples of confusion coursing through you, a fluttering sensation that stirs your chest whenever his name crosses your mind. You do not fully comprehend what it is, but it’s undeniably present—a flicker of something more, leaving you teetering on the precipice of feelings you are not yet ready to confront.
My dearest Seokmin,
As I sit here with this pen in hand, I find myself quite at a loss. The arrival of my debut looms on the horizon, and while I am certainly filled with anticipation, I must confess that trepidation dances in my chest, quite uninvited. The notion of standing before an audience of peers—well-bred and well-mannered—fills me with an unease I cannot quite articulate. Will my words tumble forth in a jumbled mess? Or worse, will they fall on deaf ears?
I cannot shake the dreadful thought that I may never find a match. What if I enter that grand ballroom, adorned in my finest gown, and am met with indifference? Will the charming suitors twirl past me, whisking away others while I stand, forgotten, on the periphery? The idea sends a shiver down my spine, as I fear I may spend the evening watching the festivities unfold without me.
As I consider the expectations that accompany my debut, I can’t help but reflect on how you and Minghao have gracefully embraced your new roles as dukes. You carry the weight of your responsibilities with such elegance, while I find myself yearning to flourish in a world that feels daunting. Will I, too, be able to navigate this landscape of expectation and propriety, or will I falter under its weight?
Forgive my ramblings, dear friend. I suppose I am merely hoping for reassurance, a kind word from you. Perhaps if I know you will be there—your presence a familiar balm—I might muster the courage to dance and revel in the splendor of the evening.
With warmest regards and hopeful heart,Your Tulip
My Dearest Tulip,
Your recent letter has landed in my hands like a most delightful spring breeze, though I must confess it carries with it a hint of unease that quite unnerves me. How is it that my steadfast friend, who has faced the world with such spirited determination, now frets over the prospects of the ballroom?
First and foremost, allow me to put your mind at ease. The mere thought of you standing in that grand ballroom, adorned in the finest gown, is enough to illuminate the dimmest of corners. Your charm will be as radiant as the most exquisite of chandeliers, drawing the gaze of all who are fortunate enough to cross your path. I assure you, the gentlemen will hardly be able to focus on anything—or anyone—else.
Now, I cannot let this opportunity pass without a bit of teasing – regarding your step upon my toes during our lessons – I daresay I must bring up a rather amusing memory. I cannot help but recall how you sent both Minghao and me reeling across the room, much like a pair of wayward marionettes! One can only hope that with age comes grace—or at the very least, a better sense of foot placement! If not, I shall be prepared to don the most resilient shoes in all of England.
Worry not, dear Tulip. I shall be by your side the entire season, if you shall have me (although, I am not entirely certain your dear brother will be entirely pleased by this idea).
Your most loyal servant,Seokmin
Dearest Sister,
As I sit at my desk, I cannot help but feel a mixture of pride and exasperation as I pen this letter. Our infrequent exchanges have become quite the tradition, have they not? I find it amusing that as your brother, I am often left to await your words while Seokmin is constantly regaled by your stories.
With your debut looming closer, I feel it is my solemn duty as both your brother and your Duke to remind you of the delicate nature of polite society. Your debut is not merely an occasion to don a gown and curtsy to the queen; it is a rite filled with expectations and decorum. I implore you to be mindful of the company you keep and the propriety that is expected of you as a young lady and the sister of the Duke. I have taken it upon myself to speak to Seokmin, warning him of the same – he has a habit of forgetting his own station in moments of levity.
While I know you must find these constraints stifling, know that the eyes of the ton will soon be upon you, not only assessing your beauty but also your character. You are the jewel of our family, and I trust you will shine brightly, even amidst these expectations.
Write to me when you can, dear sister, even if it is infrequent. Your musings are treasures to your dear elder brother, and I await them constantly.
With all my love, Minghao
Dearest Brother,
I say this with the utmost love and devotion:
Damn you.
(Please forgive my language, and please, do not show this letter to Mama. I fear her admonishments may never end if she hears of my vernacular)
I am acutely aware of the expectations that accompany my debut – how could I forget when both you and Mama loom over me like a pair of hawks? While I recognize your intentions, your words do little to alleviate my anxiety.
Your warning regarding Seokmin only serves to make me laugh. It is amusing, truly, to envision the Duke of Lancaster being chided by my brother on the virtues of propriety. I promise to keep my wits about me and to present myself with all the elegance expected of a young lady of my station (the sister of a Duke, no less!).
I will do my utmost to avoid a scandal – or at the very least, I shall ensure that you do not hear of it. I shall write again soon, if only to unleash more of my exasperation upon you.
Yours, in (implied) rebellion, Y/N (Sister of the Duke of Somerset)
Age 18:
On the eve of your debut, you find yourself seated on the swing in the garden of the Somerset townhome, the night cloaked in an almost palpable tension. The sounds of Mayfair filter through the stillness—a symphony of distant laughter, the soft clatter of carriages, and the occasional rustle of silk skirts—as the ton settles into slumber. The air feels electric, crackling with anticipation, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the events of the morrow to unfold.
You take a deep drag from the cigarette you swiped from Minghao’s rooms, the smoke spiraling into the night like a fleeting thought. With each inhale, you hope to drown out the anxious fluttering of your heart, a dissonant rhythm that accelerates at the mere thought of tomorrow’s debut.
“Why, Lady Xu Y/N, are you smoking?” The voice breaks through your reverie, causing you to sputter and cough, hastily attempting to conceal the cigarette behind your back. You turn to see Seokmin, leaning casually against the sturdy oak tree that secures the swing, his figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
His presence is both familiar and disarming, the boyish charm of his smile juxtaposed against the weight of his title. “No, Seokmin, I—” you stammer, flustered.
“Shove over,” he commands lightly, and before you can protest, he plucks the cigarette from your frozen grip, taking a deep, leisurely drag. The sight of him—so confident, so carefree—sets your heart racing in a way that both delights and terrifies you.
“What on earth are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“I was with your brother at White’s,” he replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It was my mistake to forget how little he can imbibe before devolving into an utter fool. I was merely making sure he returned home safely.” His tone shifts, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”
“Excited? Hardly,” you grumble, kicking at the scattered rocks beneath your feet. “What my heart truly desires is to run away—pack my things, flee to Paris, and open a quaint little bookstore. Perhaps live out my days as a spinster, surrounded by novels and solitude.”
Seokmin’s expression shifts, a shadow of understanding passing across his features. “We cannot always have what our hearts desire,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow as he exhales a plume of smoke. “Sometimes, we must accept that we can find happiness in what we have, not in what could have been.”
You watch the smoke dance and dissipate into the night sky, thoughts swirling as restlessly as the tendrils of fog around you.
“And you?” you ask quietly, the question escaping before you can catch it. “What does your heart desire?”
“Desired,” he corrects, taking another deep drag. “I once dreamed of being a fencer, of dueling beneath the sun. But above all, I yearned to find love.”
Your heart stutters at his admission. His thigh brushes against yours, an electric touch that feels so scandalously intimate you can hardly breathe. You suddenly become acutely aware of the nightgown you wear, the thin fabric doing little to shield you from the heat radiating from his body. If Minghao were to catch you in this moment, you are certain he would demand that Seokmin either marry you on the spot or duel him for your honor.
The very thought sends a shiver down your spine—an improper thought that both terrifies and thrills you. You are a young lady, poised to make your debut, and here you are, perched so closely to an eligible duke, the expectations of the ton looming like a dark cloud. What would society say if they were to discover you in this clandestine moment? The whispers would be deafening, your reputation in tatters, and yet… the thrill of it, the danger, pulls at you like a siren's song.
“And you believe you shall never find it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I am a Duke, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it barely pierces the night air. “Duty must come first. If there is any part of me left, which there rarely is, only then can I pursue love.”
The distance between you feels both impossibly vast and achingly close, the weight of his words pressing against you like an invisible force. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the unspoken longing that mirrors your own.
You hum, encouraging him to continue, yet the weight of his words presses down on your chest.
“But how fortunate am I,” he continues, his gaze piercing through the night like a beacon, “to have found such a remarkable friend who stands by me even as duty threatens to drown me where I stand.”
A friend. The word lingers between you, heavy and loaded. Is that truly all he sees you as? The realization sends your mind reeling, your heart racing in an entirely different way.
No, the trees whisper, urging you to reconsider.
Could it be…love?
That foreign sensation, long buried beneath layers of propriety and friendship, now unfurls within you, roots taking hold. You realize with a start that you have loved Seokmin, perhaps from that very first kiss on your hand all those years ago, long before you could articulate the feelings swirling in your heart.
Panic courses through you, and you leap up from the swing as if it has burned you. “It is late, Lord Lee. I must take my leave now,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “I hope you find your way home safely.”
He reaches out, his hand brushing against your wrist, and your breath hitches at the contact. “Wait,” he says, his voice low, almost laced with concern. “Are you alright? You seem... distant.”
His eyes search yours, and you feel the weight of his gaze, an anchor that both comforts and terrifies you. Your pulse quickens, a frantic rhythm echoing in your ears. What would it mean to linger here a moment longer, to let the night wrap around you like a cocoon?
But all the books you’ve read offer no preparation for the heartache that comes with knowing he regards you as merely a friend. A friend, just like your brother. You are his friend, and the shattering realization settles in: he will never love you back.
“Tulip?” he adds softly, the word a whisper that brushes against your skin like the wind.
You swallow hard, every part of you aching to give in, to lean into the connection pulsing between you. But the truth looms like a storm cloud overhead, dark and inevitable.
You love Lord Lee Seokmin, Duke of Lancaster, but he will never love you.
And with that heavy knowledge weighing on your heart, you turn to leave, every step toward your room feeling like a betrayal to the emotions simmering just beneath the surface.
You don’t sleep at all, thoughts consumed by a boy you had once known and the man you now love.
Tagging: @kibs-and-bits @moondustmemories @shinwonderful @ivehypnosis @gwend0lyne @thestoryofana13
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Taming of the Shrew - Part 3
Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.4k A/N: This is the final part to this mini-series! I meant to upload it last night but I added in some things last minute. Thank yall so much for all the love on the first two parts, and thank you for reading!! As always, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz @batmandallyboy
Part 2
You remained holed up in your room all day, alternating between sobbing and staring blankly at the wall. No matter what transpired, your life was irreversibly altered. Even if you gave away the baby and came home, you would still be the loose hussy. The unruly girl. Doomed to a life of being a spinster and an example to the younger girls in town.
At some point you started praying, hoping God would hear you and somehow lift you from this awful predicament.
All too soon, Elisabeth knocked on the door, saying you were being summoned to the sitting room. You were on edge; it felt like you could feel your individual neurons pulsing and transmitting a network of regret all over your body.
You dragged your feet downstairs and trudged to the sitting room, feeling like you were approaching the guillotine.
Your two executioners sat on the couch. Your mother had an angry, nasty look on her face while your father seemed a bit apprehensive. It was clear she hadn’t told him yet, choosing instead to let him wonder.
“Sit down,” your mother said icily.
You sat.
“Our lovely daughter has something to tell us, darling,” she said in a sickly sweet voice.
You were starting to think she was genuinely evil. You kept silent. Lord, save me.
“Go on, don’t be shy.” Your mother chuckled. “Or shall I?”
There was no way you were going to admit to your father what you’d done. Eating nails would be preferable to this.
She scoffed. “Alright then. Our daughter…this woman…has gone and got herself with child.”
Both you and your father flinched, him with surprise and you with shame. You bowed your head low. Your secret was out in the open now.
“With child?” he repeated incredulously. “How?”
How, indeed.
“That is the question,” your mother said. “She won’t tell me who the father is, or she doesn’t know.”
Your father struggled to form words. You didn't dare meet their gazes.
“Is this true?” he finally asked you.
Of course it was true. It was the worst, most painful truth of your life. “Yes,” you admitted in a tiny voice.
He shook his head in disappointment. “I just don't understand how this could happen,” he remarked. “What happened to our little girl?”
You hadn’t been a little girl in a long time, but you didn’t bother pointing this out.
“Do you have any idea who the father is?” your mother demanded. “Or are you such a loose hussy that it could be any man in town? Is that what you’ve been doing every time you sneak out? Answer me!”
I hate you.
You put your head in your hands and sobbed.
Your mother sighed. “Now I suppose you’ll wash my feet with your tears next? Stop with the crocodile tears. If you thought yourself mature enough to partake in such activities, you’re surely smart enough to know the consequences.”
The tears came harder and faster. You could barely stand to be here any longer. This was pure torture. You just wanted…well, what you wanted was far away right now, and also the cause of your problems.
“I’m sending you to the nunnery,” your mother announced, raising her voice above your noisy sobs. “Until this…issue is resolved. You clearly need the fear of God put into you.”
Anything but that! “No!” you cried. “No, please, I can’t! Mother, please!”
“We have no other choice,” she replied flatly. “I will not allow you to bring shame upon this family. Now, you’re dismissed back to your room and don’t you dare try to leave and corrupt anyone else with the knowledge of your actions. Just the sight of you disgusts me.”
“Father,” you pleaded. “Don’t let her do this!”
Your father, the coward, was already standing up. “Well, I don’t think I should disagree with your mother-”
“To your room,” your mother spoke angrily.
You ran out of the room, despaired, fearful, and angry all at once.
It had been less than 3 days since your parents were made aware of your pregnancy, and your mother moved like she had firecrackers under her feet, directing the packing up of your room.
You were being sent to a convent north of Valentine, many, many miles away. According to your mother, you would stay there until the baby was born and either raise it there or give it away.
“If you ever return here, I have no desire to see a crying brat with you,” your mother told you bluntly. What a pleasant woman.
Well, you were not going to any nunnery, that was for sure. You had a plan. An admittedly rough around the edges one, but a plan nonetheless.
Late at night, you quietly packed a large satchel with clothes and essentials. You were getting the hell out of here, and you were going to track down Arthur.
It was his fault this was happening, and you would refuse to leave until he took responsibility. As much as you hated the idea of groveling at his feet, you had no other options. Raising a baby by yourself was basically unheard of, and you were almost certain to screw it up somehow.
The gang was no longer hiding at Clemen’s Point. You knew this because you’d (ashamedly) ridden down to see Arthur about a month after your final meeting, and saw that the land was abandoned.
At the time you figured it was best he was gone. That toxic energy was better off not being in your life, and so what if you craved his red-hot touch every single day, and touched yourself thinking of him, hoping to replicate the feel of his thick fingers massaging your pussy?
Anyway, you had an idea of where he was. He’d told you before that the gang would probably move further east to outrun the Pinkertons, and he’d expressed his distaste of Saint Denis.
So, he was possibly somewhere near Saint Denis, maybe on the outskirts. You’d have to ask around a bit. It would be a daunting task– a single, defenseless woman in a big, strange city.
Not to mention pregnant. Maybe you should have taken those shooting lessons after all.
And it wasn’t like he was waiting for you there– surely the gang was laying low, after that crazy shootout with the Grays in town.
You finished packing and sneaked downstairs, careful to stick to the edge of the stairway. Your parents were apparently asleep, and only some of the help was awake this late.
Elisabeth, as kind as she was, couldn’t be trusted. She was in the pay of your mother and therefore on the enemy’s side.
So you had no one, no companion but your horse, Maverick. He was a very dependable creature and honestly your only friend.
You attached your satchel to his saddle, then got on and quietly directed him off the property. Luckily the help wasn’t paid to ask questions, so no one batted an eye as you passed by.
You didn’t dare make a sound, or even breathe, until the manor disappeared from view, and all you could see for miles was the forest and the midnight blue sky.
Sighing in relief, you sped up almost to a gallop, going towards Saint Denis. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but it was long enough and made more difficult by worrying about your…Arthur’s...child. You still couldn’t quite get used to saying that.
After some time, you arrived in Saint Denis. It was about 12am, and you were eager to be off the road after getting lost several times and nearly falling into a swamp. You led Maverick to a hotel, where you purchased a room for the night.
You laid down on the bed. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the one back home, but it was miles away from your troubles. That was the important bit.
Snuggling into the pillow, you sighed deeply, formulating a plan to look for Arthur. You would try the saloon first; he’d spent a lot of time there in Rhodes, and you were sure he hadn’t changed that habit. After that, perhaps the post office, or the stables.
You fell asleep dreaming of his beard scratching against your face and his fingers exploring your filthiest bits.
The next morning, you rode over to the saloon and inquired about Arthur with the bartender. “Tall, broad, very handsome, with brown hair,” you explained. “Looks like a gunslinger.”
“Oh yes, him and his pals have come here a few times,” the bartender exclaimed. “They was just down here last night, even.”
Dammit. You’d just missed him. But that confirmed he was in Saint Denis. “Did he say anything about where he was staying?”
He shook his head. “No ma’am, not that I can recall. But just turn up here ‘round six and he’ll surely be here.”
That was that, then. You would come back to the bar later tonight and catch him.
You left the saloon and remounted Maverick in hopeful spirits. Now that you knew for sure he was here, it was okay to relax a bit. And you definitely felt worn out after that long journey.
You stopped by the general store to get some fresh food and an apple for Maverick. A bit of rum would have taken the edge off, but you supposed it wasn’t good given your…condition.
Arriving back at the hotel, you bathed and washed your hair. As silly as it probably was, you wanted to look nice for Arthur. To show that you were a survivor.
Your thoughts drifted. What kind of a father would he be? What kind of family unit would you be? What with him still on the run, still following that silver-tongued Dutch, it would be difficult for you to run from place to place with him. Perhaps he would just tell you to get a room in Saint Denis and he would visit when he could. What if he walked out of your life one day, and never entered it again?
A scenario like that would effectively doom you for life. You weren’t certain you could stomach giving the baby away, but the thought of raising a child with no money or prior knowledge made you equally queasy.
But even if Arthur let you stay with him– what then? You’d seen the mess that was John Marston’s relationship with his family. And Jack, the little boy. Did you want your child in the same circumstances?
Arthur is not like John, you told yourself firmly. But really, you had no way to tell until he knew.
You spent the day milling about Saint Denis, exploring the markets and seeing the many entertainers on the streets. The people were definitely ruder here, more coarse and quick to anger. It almost made you miss Rhodes.
Almost, anyway.
At about six o’clock you came back to the saloon. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you mentally prepared yourself for what you were going to say.
Arthur, I’m expecting.
Arthur, I’m pregnant…and it’s yours.
Please help me.
I’ve nowhere else to go.
Please?
You opened the doors, swallowing hard and gritting your teeth.
“Arthur,” you squeaked, then looked around. It was quite full of businessmen, factory workers, and the odd prostitute.
You carefully took a pace around the room, searching for that familiar form. You looked all over, but didn’t hear him nor see him. Nor anyone from the gang.
Sidling up to the bartender (a different one this time), you asked, “Excuse me, sir, have you seen a…a gunslinger-type fellow here? Brown hair with a beard. Super handsome. You would remember him.”
He thought for a bit while pouring glasses. “Don’t think so, madam. But a lot of people come through here, I might just not remember. If you don’t see him here, you can sit near the door, watch it n’ see if he comes in.”
Sigh. “Alright, thank you kindly.”
You took up a post near the door, awkwardly clutching your satchel, examining everyone that came through the door. More men, some women, even a couple rough-looking folks that looked like the company Arthur kept. But no Arthur.
Unbelievable. Had the bartender from yesterday been mistaken? Or did the gang skip town already?...Most likely, it was just a fluke and they decided not to come today. Dammit!
After about half an hour of waiting, you gave up, just wanting to lie down. You dejectedly got up and exited the saloon.
However, as soon as you did, you almost ran face first into someone’s horse.
The horse nearly trampled you, and you screamed in fear as you tripped and fell to the ground.
“What the hell?!” you cried, shaken. What idiot couldn’t control their horse?
“Dammit, sorry, lady,” a gruff voice spoke. The man got his horse under control after a bit of calming. “You okay– wait…do I know you?”
You got up, dusting off your skirt, looked closer at the man and gasped. It was Bill Williamson, another member of the Van Der Linde gang!
This was an extremely lucky situation. “Bill?” you asked, praying you were right.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Ain’t you…wasn’t you Arthur’s little thing?”
You crossed your arms. “Yes, I know Arthur. Is he here?”
Bill shook his head. “No, he’s back at camp–, err, well, no. He ain’t here. You know, he acted mighty strange after you left–”
“Can you take me to him? Please, Bill,” you begged. “It’s imperative.”
He sighed and scratched his nose. “I was plannin’ on gettin’ drunk…but I s’pose so. But keep your voice down, we’re not exactly best buds with the Pinkertons right now. You got a horse?”
“I do.”
You quickly mounted Maverick, then followed Bill out of Saint Denis towards the gang’s camp. You were practically buzzing with nervousness. The courage you’d had last night had been used up, and now you were just scared. Would he reject you, force you back to your parents? Or claim that the baby wasn’t his? What if he had a new girl?!
You cleared your throat. “Has he…err, has Arthur…been seeing anyone else since I left?”
Bill laughed. “Arthur? Hell no. I swear, all he talks about is you. Back in Rhodes, he swore up and down you would be back soon. Heh, we all had a good laugh at him then. But I guess the joke’s on us, now that you’re here.”
Well, that was good at least. But why was he so sure you would be back? You’d mutually agreed never to contact each other again.
It was kind of ironic. You’d insisted on cutting him off, yet here you were, chasing him down.
After a few minutes of riding, you finally arrived at the dilapidated house the gang was calling their home. It looked more like a demolition zone to you, but you supposed they would take what they could get after Rhodes.
“Here we are, little lady,” Bill announced. “Arthur!”
You dismounted your horse and went into the main campsite. Karen, Javier, Charles…the gang was all here. You got a few greetings and hand waves from the women.
“Arthur,” Bill barked. “You got a visitor, get out here!”
You stood awkwardly by the entrance of the house, looking in the propped open door, waiting for Arthur with bated breath.
Dutch was sitting by the front door, reading. He looked up when you approached. “Well, welcome back, sweetheart,” he said in that demeaning voice. “You wasn’t followed, were you? A lot of people want us dead right now.”
“Err, no sir, I don’t think so,” you squeaked. Dutch made you uncomfortable. You got the feeling he thought of women as delicate creatures that were lesser than men. Even with the few times you’d been to camp, you had heard the cruel words he flung at and about Molly.
You just hoped none of it had rubbed off on Arthur. You knew he was fiercely loyal to the man.
Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the house. “Alright, I’m comin’, shut up,” a familiar voice grunted.
A lightning strike bolted down between your legs and you gasped softly when Arthur’s familiar, muscular form filled your vision.
“What-” he started, then froze when his eyes landed on you. His lips parted, but no words came out for a second. “You-”
“Arthur,” you whispered.
This was the greatest day of his life.
Arthur was certain he’d failed to impregnate you. That you’d been living fine all this time, not sparing a single thought to his well being.
But you were here. You’d hunted him down, somehow, and you looked scared out of your mind. And he could guess why.
He licked his lips. “What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?”
You stared at him for a good few seconds, transfixed by his rugged beauty. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
Arthur took you to the back of the house. The two of you sat in the grass, legs crossed.
“How’d you find me?” he asked.
“By chance,” you said. “I knew you went east, so I asked around at Saint Denis– then I ran straight into Bill.”
He nodded. “You…you got somethin’ to tell me?”
You took a deep breath. Now that the moment was actually here, every nerve in your body was thrumming with anticipation. “I’m…well, actually, I’m…pregnant.”
The only sound was the chirping of birds.
“Excuse me?” he said quietly.
You felt ashamed. “I’m with child, Arthur. My parents done kicked me out because of it. S’why I came here.”
“You’re pregnant,” he said slowly, like he’d never heard the word before.
“Yes. And you’re the father for sure.”
He stayed silent for a bit, but you could hear his breath accelerate sharply.
You felt scared of what he was thinking. “Arthur?”
After a long period of silence, he said, “Are you showin’ yet?”
What an odd question. “A little.”
“Can I see?”
What? But you obliged, letting him lift up your skirt high enough to show off your bump.
Arthur inhaled sharply, then put his hand on your belly. “That’s– that’s my baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“I’m about 4 months along, I think,” you said, fixing your clothes. “So…so are you going to…step up? I don’t have anyone else, Arthur.” Your voice turned squeaky and desperate, and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “My parents wanted to send me to a convent–”
“Baby, hey, shh. I can promise you I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You’re staying here with me.”
You felt butterflies in your stomach at his declaration. He was such a…man. Never afraid to take responsibility or action. You were supremely glad that he was going to take care of you and the baby. However long the gang could outrun the Pinkertons, he would, you knew it.
Arthur embraced you, curving his hands around your stomach and kissing your cheek. The two of you rocked back and forth for a minute, in unadulterated bliss. Everything melted away: the camp, the law, your parents. It was just you and him. And the baby between you.
"Told ya, you belong with me," he whispered in your ear.
Arthur was right. You came back again and again and again because you craved the action. You craved excitement and freedom and yes, even bloodshed to a certain extent. There was no use trying to leave him when he represented everything you wanted in life, even the most sinful things.
He was made for you.
Arthur hustled you back up to where Dutch was, fighting a raging erection. Seeing his girl growing round with his baby was insanely satisfying. He felt that was an appropriate reward for everything he had worked for.
And now you were certain to be stuck with him. With a baby in you, you couldn’t do much of anything, much less run away again. He would gently insist that you stay in Shady Belle to recuperate from your no doubt difficult journey east, then as the months went by you would grow more and more dependent on him, stomach getting bigger every day, till you needed his help with the simplest tasks.
He would do it all for you. All this time, Arthur had tried to make you see that your place was by his side. It was just unfortunate that he’d had to resort to deceit to make you realize the truth.
But no matter. All was forgiven. He couldn’t wait to see your pregnant body and show you off to everyone in camp.
And just maybe he would put another kid or two in you, in case you had any doubts after the first one.
Arthur sighed in contentment as he approached Dutch to explain the situation. No matter what, he knew your love was genuine. It burned brighter than the sun, certain to destroy anyone that dared cross its path.
You, him, and your child– you would make a picture perfect family. He was certain of it.
End.
#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#low honor arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan smut#red dead redemption
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SOUP AND TEARS
a.n.: hii hello guys im slowly coming back!! and the crowd ???; always a bit stressed and busy, soo here's for y'all smting comforting (who am i kidding, all of this is pure sweet) ; fluff !! ; now let's all say THANK YOU TOO MY GIRL @sobun1est for proofreading all of this, ilysm <3; @k-labels @kflixnet @en-diaries ; 1.2k wc
your head was feeling heavier and your eyes were slowly closing. it was now after 9 pm, and you were at your house, with your computer open and many sheets all around your desk; it was exams season and you were stressing.
everything around you could have felt your anxiety, your leg was shaking to keep you awake and you kept writing and writing at your computer.
it was one of the biggest exams and you still had one week to prepare for it. but on that evening the more you tried to focus, the more you lost it.
“Yn! it’s ready, come to eat something.” the most comforting voice brought you back to life
“pretty please?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice, as a head peeked out from your bedroom door.
“five more minutes,” you said, almost whispering.
“pretty please, you worked enough for today”
“i can go on for another five minutes,” you replied, turning to him. and in that moment you realized that maybe you couldn’t.
you felt your head hurting a lot, and spinning intermittently, your eyes were burning from the dim light from the lamp and your words were stuck in your throat.
so you just nodded and tried to get up
“i recognize that look, you worked too much today”
“finals..” you murmured.
he quickly moved to open the door for you
as soon as you stepped out of your room a pleasant smell hit you; you didn't recognize it right away, you just felt warmed by it as if your whole body felt like it was wrapped in a nice hot blanket.
“Please take this, okay?” heeseung said while taking off his sweatshirt and passing it to you.
you weren’t cold?
oh no wait, you were shivering. but at the same time, you were too exhausted to notice it.
“thank you” you replied while putting it on.
without even noticing you were now holding his hand, and for the whole passage to the kitchen gripped to it as if it was only thank to that you were able to stand up.
you were still trying to not move too fast nor to take your eyes too open otherwise you felt you could have fallen at any moment.
“i fear i have reached my limit for today”
“you did a lot, maybe too much”
“but exams…”
and without adding anything heeseung just squeezed your hand a little and turned towards you.
his gaze softened, his smile appeared and his hands slowly cupped your face. first, he moved it closer to his, your eyes were still half closed and your noses were now rubbing against each other's.
it was not just that house that smelled of something so familiar and comforting, it was him.
heeseung then moved his lips against your forehead, and gently kissed it. your eyes were still closed as if you were trying your best to feel him closer to you.
now your head was leaning on his chest, your face fitting right perfectly in the crock of his neck. your arms were around him, and his head leaning gently on your head.
what if human bodies were just meant to hold each other?
and now you were thinking about nothing, but your eyes felt watery.
“you can cry now baby” and as you were waiting for permission to do it.
you cried, you cried a lot.
from that moment you just remembered blacking out and slowly falling on the floor. and heeseung with you, always holding you. holding you like something inestimable, letting your bodies melt together.
you felt inebriated by his sweet comfort, so lost in it, feeling like a sailor lost in the fog, blindly following the voice of a mermaid.
“darling hi, beautiful now look at me”
you followed that voice and slowly opened your eyes.
you were now seeing everything so foggy, and you felt his hands moving to your face and his fingers caressing your temples.
he moved them to dry your tears, and all of a sudden your eyesight came back.
“darling, can I see your beautiful eyes, mh?”
but you weren't moving, you were just there sitting on the floor and lying on his chest.
he kept caressing you while whispering sweet words.
“Let me carry you on the sofa, and I will bring you some of the soup I've cooked for you. what do you think beautiful?”
all of these compliments and sweet words were helping to warm your heart and clevering your vision.
“thank you”
as soon as he heard your voice, his eyes lighted up and he quickly wrapped you close to him and moved you on the sofa.
while passing next to the kitchen you peeked in quickly And noticed how he decorated the whole room.
a candle not lighted up yet was surrounded by two red plates and matched glasses. Many snacks that you loved were. everything was so still, that few seconds you had to notice it was now Imprinted forever in your mind.
“here's a blanket for you, I will be right back darling, okay?” he asked in the sweetest tone possible.
suddenly you felt his presence moving away, the warmth of his body becoming lighter.
“baby, it's your favorite soup and I've cooked it all by myself” he said so proudly as a smile appeared on your face.
“ you're smiling “ he whispered, while leaning closer to you and moving a scoop full of soup To you.
“Oh, it's delicious. thank you hee” you were able to say before feeling your tears forming again.
“You can eat it all” he said while slowly feeding you.
You were now gaining your natural color, your cheeks were pinkish and your eyes lighted up.
As you kept eating, your tears kept falling.
Your soup tastes a little bit like them now, no matter how many times your boyfriend was drying them.
“I'm sorry” you were trying to keep repeating between the taste of tears and soup; while he just scoffed his head.
before you could even realize you had finished it, and now you were just staring at each other.
“Don't ever be sorry for this: okay? instead, let me just help you. allow me to hold you for a bit more mh?”
“it will get better” he kept repeating while caressing your shoulder,
“say it with me because you need to believe it, my Love”
And now your sorrows were more similar to comforting words.
“look, there's the moon watching over you tonight,” he said, after calming you a bit and pointing outside the window.
“ beautiful “
“Yeah, the moon is beautiful “
“Heeseung you are beautiful “ you said while looking at him. His eyes moved towards you again and his ears became reddish.
He smiled at you and suddenly your head was spinning again, but this time it was slower, more calming, and almost comforting.
“it will get better” was the last thing you heard before finally letting yourself fall asleep in his arms.
Oh, humans were really made to hold each other like this, he whispered before closing his eyes and falling asleep next to you.
#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#heeseung fluff#lee heeseung#heeseung fic#heeseung scenarios#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fic recs#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen fics#enhypen recs#kpop fic recs
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Through Dusk and Dawn
"Through dusk and dawn" means throughout the entire night, from the time it starts getting dark (dusk) until the first light of day appears (dawn), essentially encompassing the whole nighttime
Shadow x reader (platonic)
Warnings : none other than Shadow already has a tiny soft spot for reader
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One of your worst nightmares coming to life was not what you planned for this year.
Losing the people u cared for the most was awful.
Never thought it would've come to this you thought
You were nowhere to be seen during the guardianship stuff always hiding in the bathroom to wipe tears of sorrow and guilt people might ask why you feel guilt but the thing is you had nothing to do with it you just feel like you should of done something but didn't you blamed yourself for it.
Once Tom and Maddie got full guardianship over you they finally got to take you home with them.The drive from the foster care centre and to there home was wierd Tom having lost his brother (ur dad) was hard on him but they always had this promise to each other that if something went wrong that the other would care for their family and Tom wanted to keep that promise and make it true.
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*Car stops*
You got to were you would call home
Tom and Maddie help you w ur 2 bags while u carried ur main bag w all ur most personal things
Once the door opened sonic and tails were the first to try to greet you
“Oooooh hiii you must be y/n! Nice to meet you!” Said sonic with a warm smile
“Sonic she can't hear you…” said Maddie
“Oh let me speak louder my bad HI IM SO-” I mean she's deaf sonic she can read lips but she can't hear anything”says Maddie
“Oh I'm Sorry”
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Maddie an Tom help u set up in the room you'd stay in
As you entered you saw a beautiful room decorated with a small vase of flowers and a candle in a nightstand next to it you saw two small beds in one of them was a small black and red hedgehog sitting down reading a book
Feeling interrupted shadow wanted to say something
“I'm sorry shadow but quickly we wanted you to meet y/n she's my niece and she will share a room with you for a while until we find a way to set everything up” says Tom looking at shadow hoping for a small “okay” or a head nod
Shadow nods his head and continues reading
After putting ur things away Tom writes on a sticky note
“Wanna have pizza for dinner?”
You wrote back
“Ok sure” just wanting to be left to your own thoughts
Tom could feel that you were probably not in the mood for anything so he waved goodbye and left
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Now being alone (w only shadow being there) you finally felt the wave of grief hit you like a stack of bricks a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks onto ur knees as you hugged them tighter hoping everything was a bad dream even if you knew it wasnt….
Shadow took notice of this since he could hear what you thought were silent sobs were actually not that silent but quite enough he could hear.
Jumping of his bed he thought he should see what's wrong since he did overhear Tom and Maddie talk about why you were coming to sonic tail and knuckles. He slowly climbed up into you bed and tapped ur hand gaining ur attention
“Are you okay” he said, feeling a small shock as he was reminded of Maria as soon as he saw our tear filled eyes.
You read his lips and nodded your head in a no motion
Shadow felt a small crack in his heart seeing you like this,as it reminded him so much of his sweet maria.he said something gaining no response and thought maybe u wanted to be left alone as he was about to go back to his bed you held onto his hand patting the side next to you signalling him to sit next to you
You quickly grabbed a notepad u had in you bag and wrote
I'm sorry if u said anything but I can't hear you
“It's okay, do you wanna write about why ur crying?” he wrote back
Not right now can you just stay with me for a bit?
You wrote back waiting for a reply
Shadow slowly nodded, feeling a small wave of happiness in his heart being able to be wanted was not new but it was a feeling he's almost forgotten about since the last time he felt it was with her..
as he say back next to you layer down motioning him to do the same
As you both layer in your bed in comfortable silence he noticed you seemed less tense as you did when u got here.after a while he poked his head up to she if you doing okay only to see you in deep sleep. Feeling like his job was done he thought he should head back to his bed but he felt like his heart was telling him to stay feeling as if he left you would disappear.
Around 20 minutes after shadow Slowly felt his eyes starting to feel heavy he wanted falling asleep next to you but before anything happened he snapped back as he heard someone approaching quickly teleporting back into his bed
As the door opened he looked up from the open book seeing tails and knuckles acting nonchalant he looked at them with a speak or get out face
Seeing that tails spoke up
“Maddie wanted us to let you and y/n know that the pizza is almost here and to come to the table” he said sheepishly
“Well be there in a bit”he said as tails and knuckles left the room
Shadow walked over to your bed and slowly shook you awake
He quickly wrote on the notepad “pizza I here let's go eat” as you woke up.
You quickly nodded as you were hungry quickly, getting up and following him to the kitchen
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Finished!
Thanks for reading!
I lwk LOVE how this turned out hope you guys like it too<3
Taglist
@bluefang1 @fawnsies @sabakarp @z3zabytez @ellaprime7 @buddee @star-maker-rain-dancer @generousdiamond
#my post#x reader#crappost#chicken#sonic#shadow the hedgehog#sonic 3#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#sonic the hedgehog#sonic the hedghog fandom#miles tails prower#knuckles the echidna#cute
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