#it’s always ‘have a good time dear’

[thesunnys1deup]

My dear Arthur, (rdr2 mary's letter ref incoming)

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it. Arthur, oh, Arthur. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I'm with you, the world makes sense; but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I'm so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. There's a good man within you, Arthur, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant... wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day... you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free.

Goodbye

John if he failed his persuasion check

[thevampireladyambrosia]

The Professor's Pet

Request via anon.

Pairing: Male!Kitsune x Female!Reader.

Content Warning: Power dynamics (professor x student), manipulation, age gap, knots.

You have always been a good student. At least at this university. A school involving magic was the dream. As a human, however, you struggled a bit. Especially with charms. In fact, you frequently explode them by pouring too much energy in. You can't help it. You are just so excited. Thus, you fell behind in class.

The professor, an older kitsune with all nine tails, noticed this. He had been trying to help you as much as he could, but he could only do so much. So you quickly began to fail the class.

This caused you to panic. You could only go to this place because you got a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that requires a certain GPA to keep.

So you doubled down. You tried harder. You stayed up later. Only for things to become more of a disaster. Your anxious energy explodes charms more easily. Your sleep deprivation led to you making mistakes you normally wouldn't.

It was very late one night that you decided you'd approach the professor the next day. You knew his office hours from the beginning of the year; from when he had gone over the syllabus. Maybe you could ask for an extra credit essay? Something. Anything. You had to pass this class.

The next day goes slowly. It's like the universe knew you had something that needed done, so it slowed down time. You found yourself glancing at the clock every couple minutes. You were an anxious mess. The professor seemed nice enough. But would he help you?

When the time came for you to approach his office you somehow grew more anxious. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move. You entered his office.

He looked up and smiled. He greeted you and gestured for you to take a seat.

“I'm assuming you're here about your grade?” He stated. He said it casually and in a nonchalant way. But it was anything but that to you. It determined the rest of your life. Failing would mean not being able to continue at this school. It would mean everything had been for nothing.

“Um… yeah.” You replied. You mentally kicked yourself. You wanted to say more, but it would come out. Like your mouth was too dry, and your lips were sewn shut.

“I went ahead and took a look at your assignments. It appears you weren't absent for much. Rather, it became apparent that you had a knack for exploding things throughout the year. As you likely know, I could have done something if you had excused absences. I could have let you make up the work for partial credit. Simply failing is different, though. If I let you redo it, you'd gain an unfair advantage over your classmates.”

You sucked in a breath. There it was. What you had feared all along. Your face fell. You were really going to fail the class.

“But…” You immediately snapped back into attention. There was a glimmer of hope in that simple word. “I do reward effort. And you, my dear student, have put in effort. Tell me, how far are you willing to go to secure your grade?”

You blinked. Did he want you to clean the classroom? Write a huge report? Do a presentation?

“I'd do anything. Anything at all.” You said confidently.

“That's a bold statement.” The kitsune said. But you didn't miss the glimmer in his eye. The same one people have when they get something they want. When they succeed at something. Satisfaction.

“It's the truth,” you replied. And it was. At this point in time, you'd do just about anything to secure your grade. Aside from doing something that harmed others.

“How about I give you a bonus assignment? One worth a good chunk of points. It would be distributed and added onto your other grades. But you'd have to keep it a secret. And I'd want something in return.”

You couldn't believe your ears. A chance to pass. You'd have to be positively insane to say no. But what did he want in return?

“I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. And I won't tell a soul.” You couldn't believe your own mouth. This was basically cheating. This would make you a fraud. The kitsune seemed to recognize where your mind was heading. And he acknowledged it in his next statement.

“It's not cheating. I'm a professor. I would know. The greatest minds weren't just people who were good at things. They were people who were passionate about things. You, my dear, have passion. You have drive. You have perseverance. Is it really cheating? Or are you just getting acknowledged for your work?”

You felt strange. He had praised you. Maybe he was right? I mean, you did work hard.

“But, even more amazing, is the fact you know how to work the system.” You looked at him. What was he talking about? “Wearing that short skirt you know would drive men crazy.”

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to explain, but his hand slips under your skirt. It catches you so off guard that you don't even get a word out. Luckily, he only rubs your thigh before withdrawing his hand.

“I-” He cuts you off.

“You said anything, remember?” He's smiling at you. “What I want is simple. I want you to let me stuff your pretty little cunt with my cock. Just this once. After all, that's what you offered when you said anything, yes?”

He had a point. You did say anything. And maybe one time was worth it for a good grade?

“Okay. I consent. Just this once.” The professor didn't hesitate. You could barely process anything before you were bent over his desk. Your underwear were pushed aside as he roughly shoved a finger in. It stung slightly but quickly faded as your cunt lubricated itself.

It would help if you didn't enjoy it. If your cunt wasn't sending waves of pleasure into your brain, making it short circuit. When his thumb found your clit and a second finger joined, you moaned. It was loud and filthy. It made you feel disgusted with yourself.

He fingered you until you came around onto his hand hard. It was the most intense orgasm of your life. And it was given to you by your professor. Your way older professor. But you didn't care anymore.

He made you beg for his cock. Made you plead. And you did. He didn't even bother to undress you nor himself. He just pulled his growing erection out and kept your underwear pushed aside. He shoved into you in one swift motion that made you cry out and see stars.

He fucked you rough and hard, his pace unforgiving. And when you came, you gushed around his cock. If you thought the orgasm earlier was intense, this one was unreal. You became practically boneless. Your vision went white. You could have sworn you passed out for a brief moment.

And then he came. Buried deep in your cunt. You felt the warmth of his seed fill you. And something strange happened too. It was like he got bigger. Like his penis expanded, locking him in. You had expected him to pull out. You had assumed incorrectly.

It wasn't even a minute after his penis went back to normal that he fixed your clothes and ushered you out. Something about office hours being over.

You walked back to your dorm on wobbly legs, your professor's cum dripping down your thighs. You pressed them together to hide it as much as possible.

When you arrived back, you showered and went to bed. A few days later you had a B in his class.

[solxamber]

Diasomnia, 8 (or whichever is the non negotiable), fluff

Encore for You || Lilia Vanrouge

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "This is non-negotiable" ; Genre: Fluff

Sebek was not pleased.

“Human, this study session is crucial! How do you expect to improve if you abandon your studies so easily?” he barked, pacing around the library as you packed your bag.

“I know, Sebek, but Lilia invited me to his concert, and he said it was non-negotiable.”

Sebek paused mid-stride, his eyes narrowing. “Master Lilia has… compromised your priorities for his music?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s one concert. I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

Sebek’s protests followed you out the door, but you tuned him out, your heart already racing at the thought of seeing Lilia perform.

The venue—a makeshift stage in the school auditorium—was abuzz with excitement. Cater was setting up his camera for live streams, Kalim was cheerfully waving to every passerby, and Lilia was off to the side, tuning his bass guitar.

When he spotted you, his eyes lit up. He sauntered over, still holding the guitar. “Ah, there you are, my dear. I knew you’d come.”

You laughed. “I didn’t really have a choice. You made it non-negotiable, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, grinning mischievously. “I couldn’t possibly perform without my muse in the audience.”

Before you could reply, Cater called out, “Lilia! It’s time!”

He gave you one last wink before heading to the stage, and you took your seat near the front, the perfect spot to cheer him on.

The concert was… an experience.

Kalim’s enthusiasm on the drums was unmatched. Cater sang well, occasionally pausing to check his phone and read comments from the live stream. But Lilia stole the show, his stage presence magnetic and his energy infectious.

Halfway through a particularly wild bass solo, Lilia glanced down at you and winked, sending your heart into overdrive.

You couldn’t help but cheer loudly, earning amused glances from the people around you. But you didn’t care—this was Lilia in his element, and you were completely captivated.

After the concert, Lilia found you backstage, still holding his guitar.

“Well?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice. “Was it worth skipping your study session with Sebek?”

“Absolutely,” you said, grinning. “Though I think Sebek might track me down and drag me back to the library any minute now.”

Lilia chuckled, setting the guitar aside to pull you into a hug. “Let him try. Tonight, you’re mine.”

You leaned into his embrace, your cheeks warm. “You were amazing out there. That wink, though—completely unfair.”

“Unfair?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock innocence. “I was merely expressing my affection. Should I stop?”

“Don’t you dare,” you said, laughing.

“Good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Because if I’m going to serenade anyone, it’ll always be you.”

And in that moment, with his arms around you and the sound of distant applause still lingering in the air, you couldn’t imagine a better place to be.

Masterlist

[rogueandflame]

The Twins and One

So here is an idea for a fic that I shared with an incredible writer and mutual, @aeralux. (She will be waking up to 100 notifications but oh well.) I wanted to share it with you, and get your opinion on whether I should start writing. Please know that I have not written in years, and that this is a very, very rough draft. This dialogue came to me while I was driving. This is not done, and will be expanded on either by me or Aera.

Update (1/8/2025): Check out the final version HERE!

cregan stark x wife!reader x FraternalTwin!jace

Warnings: A little more than suggestive, targcest, cuckholding, impending threesome.

MDNI!!!

🤍

it was the hour of the wolf. Jace walks the cold halls of winterfell, missing the warmth of the south, and the warmth of his family. he is wrapped in a borrowed wolf fur coat, from cregan, and it is about two sizes too large for him. his sword rests at his hip, and he holds the hilt as a sort of reassurance.

his mind is racing with thoughts of war and thoughts of you. for the first time in his life, he has spent more than a moon's turn from his beloved twin sister. it had been six months since jace had escorted you north for your wedding to cregan. he knew this day would come someday, but he did not think it would be so shortly after your twentieth nameday. cregan stark is a good man, and is one of the crown's closest allies. jace and cregan were like brothers, but he could not help to think that he should have been your husband instead.

growing up, you always explored each other's bodies. you came into the world as one, and were practically attached at the hip. "one soul, two bodies," became a pointed remark at the red keep, meant to call out how often you were found at each other's side, but you and jace embraced it. it was true. you were his confidant, his sister, the more brazen flame compared to his tempered one. you were his lover.

as he walks, his thoughts run wild over the last time he saw you in front of him. the curve of your breasts complimenting the curve of your waist. your hair not a rich brown like his, but the same as your mother's - as pale as the moon on its fullest night. your eyes the palest purple seen in the family, reflecting your undeniable heritage.

you were his and he was yours.

he is snapped back into reality as he passes your chambers, noises coming from within them. weary and restless, jace pushes the thick door swiftly open, fully expecting you to be struggling with a dangerous man for your life. without a second thought, and before the situation is fully realized, he unsheaths his sword, ready to defend you from whoever could be harming you. and then there you are. while you are admist a struggle with a dangerous man, it is not for your life.

cregan looks up at the interruption, but seems unphased. his large body is over yours, his palms next to your head as he prepares to thrust into you. you tilt your head back towards the door, the world upside down.

"Jace?" you murmur. Cregan sits back on his knees, not bothering to cover you or himself up.

"Are you going to stand there like a frail pup or are you going to join us?" Cregan asked, and your eyes shot up to him. before you could say anything, cregan continued. "Your dear sister told me about what it was like growing up with you." You blush heavily. "Targaryens and their queer customs. But tradition is tradition. And us northmen are big on tradition."

Jace stands there, mouth wide open, not sure what to say.

"Jace, if you are going to stand and watch, could you at least shut the door?" Jace scurries to shut the door and put his sword back, clearly still shocked at the situation he has found himself in.

"Come, my young prince," cregan says as he gets up, "i want to see how you pleasured her in the south. She is always saying how much she misses you."

You roll over to your stomach as Cregan walks over to clap a hand on Jace's shoulder.

"My dear brother, I do not think I have ever seen you so speechless." you tease.

Jace looks at you, and then Cregan, and then back to you.

"Are you sure?" he looks more nervous than he did the day he claimed Vermax.

"It'll be just like old times, brother. You always did have your way with me, it will just include my other favorite man this time." you purr.

You push yourself off the bed, and walk over to where Cregan and Jace are standing. You are just as naked as you were the day you were born, and you know this is his favorite way to see you. You stroke his cheek and breathily kiss his neck. Your hands roam, pushing off his cloak in one motion and beginning to unbutton his tunic. Cregan retreats to the foot of the bed to watch. You smile against Jace's neck as he begins to relax, and you move his hands to the small of your back.

[melodyanqel]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (002. only you)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: smut! mention of masturbation

⤷ wc: 4.1k words

⤷ note: ahh this is my first time writing +18 parts and i hope it is decent enough lol. also i hit 200 followers! as a thank you here is a longer chapter ♡

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet @ilovebtsomgie

“I’m glad you are doing better. You look pretty with a smile.” 

Tough men can be soft, and that's no shame. Lily looks at Jun-ho with endearment. His ethereal side profile is straight out of a romance manhwa. She can admire for hours and never get tired. 

Jun-ho then stops at a red light and cranes his neck to look at Lily. His brawny hand takes her small, delicate one. “Even when I become mopy for no reason.” He draws a grin and she giggles with blushing cheeks. In response to his question, “Yes. I haven’t gotten sick of it.” She tightens her grip. Jun-ho raises Lily's hand to kiss her knuckles like a real prince. 

About another ten minutes, the couple arrived at Mrs. Hwang’s apartment. Jun-ho still lives with his mother and it’s common for people in this country to live with your loved ones, despite your age. Lily didn’t find it strange because she would’ve done the same if she couldn’t afford to move out. Plus, it’s great that Jun-ho is willing to care for his mother. 

He mentioned In-ho but never told Lily about what happened in 2021 or his sudden disappearance. However, Jun-ho did give stories about his brother before everything. They were all moments when they were kids. Even though they’re half-brothers, they bonded quickly like blood-related brothers. And there are times when Jun-ho misses the old In-ho. 

After ringing the doorbell, an elderly woman opens it for her son and his girlfriend. 

Lily smiles in delight. “Omonim!” She opens her arms and Mrs. Hwang doesn’t miss a second for a hug. “My dear! You’re beautiful as always!” She caresses the back of the younger woman’s head. “Thank you, omonim.” Lily thanked her. 

As they parted, Mrs. Hwang moved her attention to Jun-ho. He goes into her arms. “Hi, omma. Thank you for the birthday wishes.” He has to bend down to embrace his tiny yet remarkable mother. She tells him, “Of course. You’re my child and I’m not too old to not remember.” Mrs. Hwang is still healthy for a woman in her sixties. 

Her quips never fail to make the couple laugh. She does have some wit. 

Shortly, everyone gets inside the apartment. Like a magnet, Lily zooms into the kitchen and sees the delicious home-cooked food in containers. It’s also good because she doesn’t need to make or buy meals for the rest of the week. Jun-ho is also mesmerized by his mother’s cooking. 

“Wow, you outdid yourself, omma.” He commented. She pats his left arm and states. “Whenever it’s your birthday, I’ll spoil you.” Mrs. Hwang will continue to make him feel like he is the best in the world. Jun-ho chuckles and gathers the containers in the tote bag on the island. “I’ll let you know whenever I’ll be home.” He didn’t need to tell his mother because she knew he’d return. But he is still afraid of her scolding. 

“Okay. Enjoy your birthday, honey.” Mrs. Hwang kisses Jun-ho’s cheek. Lily watches the moment happen and it warms her heart. Then she felt something. “Let me go use the bathroom first before we leave.” She drank four bottles of water today. It’s summer and scorching hot. Lily scurries to the bathroom like a mouse. 

When she leaves the kitchen, it’s the mother and son together. Mrs. Hwang instantly asked Jun-ho. “Have you asked her yet?” She is eager to know if their family will grow bigger. Jun-ho sighs and shakes his head. “No, not yet. I wanted to do it on our second anniversary, but I wasn’t sure if her family would accept me. Especially her parents. I barely asked them last week and they welcomed me.” He confessed to his mother about his self-doubt.

She gives him a hopeful look. “Don’t be scared. I love Lily so much that I don’t want any other woman for you. If you do it tonight, call me.” Mrs. Hwang hugs her son and he takes it because he needs to calm his nerves. 

The sound of footsteps approaches them. Lily sees them hugging and she patiently waits for them. Jun-ho feels her gaze and he breaks away from his mom. He makes eye contact with his beautiful angel. “Ready?” He questions and Lily nods her head. 

Once again, she thanks Mrs. Hwang for the food. The couple said goodbye to her and can now have their little party. Jun-ho holds Lily’s hand as they head back to the vehicle. He takes deep breaths because he doesn’t expect to be nervous. Lily notices his touch is getting clammy. She reads Jun-ho’s body language and it concerns her. 

“Are you okay?” The petite woman inquired the tall policeman. 

He answers in short, “I’m good. I’m a bit exhausted but I have enough energy.” Thankfully, Lily comprehends and goes with the flow. Jun-ho is becoming a wreck, internally. It’s worse than his first day on the job. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

After a quick stop, it’s a relief to be back in the comforts of your home. 

Once Jun-ho enters Lily’s place, he sees the decorations in the small living room. A gleeful smile plays on his face when he reads a sign on the ceiling, above the coffee table. It says, “Happy Birthday Darling.” 

He also spotted colorful balloons on the floor, table, and couch. But the most prominent is the big Pochacco balloon sitting by the patio door because Jun-ho reminds Lily of the adorable Sanrio dog. Jun-ho closes and locks the door. He embraces his woman from the back to sprinkle kisses on her neck. He has been waiting all day to have intimacy. 

The man hears the beauty squealing from the affection. “I take it that you love my decorations!” She was taken advantage of by his hug attack. The only side of Jun-ho that no one will ever see, except for Lily. He presses one last kiss on her neck. “You did amazing. Let’s start our night.” Jun-ho will appreciate Lily until his last breath. 

He separates from her and excuses himself to put his backpack in her room. Jun-ho packed clothes, hygiene supplies, and a spare key to Lily’s apartment, in case she gets locked out or whenever he comes by. He unzips the front pocket to grab an item—a little box. 

Jun-ho knows he can’t be a coward because he promises his mother and her family that he’ll take their relationship to another level. He breathes in and out to ease the tension. Jun-ho puts the little box in his pocket and goes to his girlfriend. 

He leaves the room and witnesses Lily placing a heart-shaped vanilla cream cake on the dining table. It has “Happy Birthday Jun-ho” written in icing and hangul. She adds the candles and lights the wicks. Jun-ho is thirty-three. Whenever people turn thirty, they sometimes get worried because of aging anxiety. But Jun-ho is grateful to continue living. He fought for his life to wake up from a coma. 

Jun-ho walks over to Lily. She hears his footsteps and perks her head. An ecstatic smile rises on her lips. Lily sings him “Happy Birthday” in Korean and Jun-ho smiles ear to ear. 

“Happy birthday to Hwang Jun-ho! Happy birthday to you!”

Lily claps her hands cheerily when he blows out the candles. “Picture time! Go sit by your cake!” She runs to the island and takes her phone out of her purse. Jun-ho grins merrily and he obliges his lover’s demand. She comes back to snap hundreds of pictures. Lily once thought Jun-ho should sign up for modeling because his beauty is magnificent. She sometimes wonders how she got so lucky. 

They do look like the perfect couple—almost too perfect. 

“Are you done?” Jun-ho has been posing for a minute and getting a bit tired. Lily responds, “I’m done!” She sets down her phone on the table. It probably has no storage left. 

Out of the blue, her boyfriend asked her. “Should I tell you what I wished for?” 

Lily gives him a staggered expression. “No! It won’t come true!” She believes in the saying and he shouldn’t ruin it. 

Jun-ho then pulls out the chair to stand up. “My love. I do want to tell you something, though.” He gets her full attention. Lily watches him come to her. Sure. What is it?” she asked calmly, having no clue. Jun-ho purses his lips and takes both her hands into his. Courage—he truly needs it, and can’t turn back now. Jun-ho begins to expound. 

“You are the only woman in my life. I was hesitant to do this, but I realized you mean so much to me that I don’t see anyone else to make me feel alive and know what love is. I took the time to think about it with my omma and your parents about what I want my future to be like. I hope it gets fulfilled once I ask you a question.” 

His warm brown eyes are on hers and without looking away, he lets go of her hands. Jun-ho is down on one knee and pulls the small box out of his pocket. He hears Lily gasp and her chocolate brown orbs are glassy. She has tears welling. Jun-ho opens the box to reveal a silver ring with a circle diamond. “Will you be my wife, Lilymae Reed?” He finally asked the question. 

Lily nods her head earnestly as tears fall from her eyes. “Yes! Yes, Hwang Jun-ho!” She sobs her words. Jun-ho’s lips crack a big smile and he gingerly puts on the stunning jewelry on her left ring finger. He stands on his feet to gather a crying Lily into a big bear hug.  

“Oh, I have a gift from Bo-young!” She remembers the drawing. They parted and Lily took out the paper from her purse. She hands it to Jun-ho and he is truly fascinated. “Wow. She is wonderful. Tell her that I love it.” He kindly compliments the little girl’s artwork. Jun-ho believes and so does Lily, Bo-young has a crush on him, but it’s overall cute. 

His birthday will forever be his favorite day from now on. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“So, is that why you’ve been acting weird?” 

Lily knew something was up with Jun-ho, but she didn’t question it. She slurps on the jjajangmyeon that his mother cooked. It’s like heaven in her mouth. Jun-ho is eating the same thing with dumplings. 

The silence breaks when he puts down his chopsticks and clarifies to Lily. “It did take me months to build the courage. So, around last week, I managed to talk to your parents and my broken English somehow made them understand that I need their blessings. I then earned it. I also told my omma and she was exhilarated because she wanted you and your family to join us, which I should tell her soon.” He must not break his mother’s promise. 

Jun-ho sees Lily crying again while chewing on her noodles. He couldn’t contain his laughter. His fiancé is too precious. Jun-ho reaches over to grab her left hand. His thumb brushes the ring on her finger. Lily finishes chewing and wipes off the tears with her right hand. 

She tells Jun-ho her thoughts. “I wished my family was here. I must thank them for letting you marry me because I am so grateful they accepted you. Also, your omma. I love her with my life,” Lily pauses and continues, “I’m looking forward to being her daughter-in-law.” That sounds odd but she’ll get used to it. Jun-ho holds her hand firmly. “I too wished your family was here. However, one day they’ll come visit South Korea.” He reassured Lily. 

“Yes, one day.” Her voice trails like an echo. 

To lighten the mood, Jun-ho suggests finishing dinner because he does want dessert. He has a sweet tooth just like his fiancé. Bumping into the bakery was either a coincidence or destiny. 

After devouring the delicious jjajangmyeon and dumplings, they had enough space for the vanilla cream cake. Jun-ho takes a piece with a fork and eats it. His dark brown eyes widen. “Wow! You did amazing!” He compliments Lily’s homebaked dessert. She smiles gaily at his cute reaction. “Thank you! You can have more whenever you want.” Lily learned culinary when she first started living by herself because she knows she’ll need it in the future. 

Her gaze lands on Jun-ho lips. She snickers and wipes off the cream with her thumb. “Don’t be a slob. I want to marry someone with manners.” Lily said in jest but she did mean it. Jun-ho then teases her by licking her thumb. She jolts and pulls away. “Yah! Don’t do that!” Lily glares at him with rosy cheeks. His eyes darken at the shy look she is giving him. Since when did Jun-ho become so seductive? Lily snatches the plate from him. “No more cake for you!” She chides and sets down the cake on the island. 

Jun-ho chuckles huskily and wraps his arms around her petite waist. She has her back against his broad chest. His cleaned lips are close to her ear. “I love you, my Lily.” He spoke in a much deeper and elegant voice. The shy woman slowly puts her arms over his and turns her neck to look up at him. Lily is staring at Jun-ho's strong, needy gaze. “I love you too.” She admits wholeheartedly. 

The man and woman move forward, touching their lips into a delightful kiss. 

In the end, they ate more of the cake because Jun-ho wanted it before going to bed. 

Midnight arrives, which means time to wash up and rest. Well, not for Lily. She is engaged and wants to do something more romantic and sensual. Indeed, Lily is the type to wait because she never experienced a serious relationship. She had a few boyfriends, but they didn’t consider her much. Jun-ho is different. He gives Lily consent and respects her. It’s also one of the many reasons she agrees to date him. 

Lily is in the bathroom while Jun-ho lies on the bed, scrolling through his phone. She looks at herself in the mirror and she is nervous. Lily wears a white babydoll slip dress. It’s see-through so her stomach and underwear are shown. Her brunette hair has no bows and her makeup is retouched. After deep breaths, Lily leaves the bathroom and sheepishly goes to Jun-ho.

He hears the door creaking, and instantly, he feels something and puts his phone on the nightstand. The love of his life is dressed all pretty and sultry. Lust begins to take over him. 

Jun-ho sees how shy Lily is when she steps closer to him. She reaches the bed and crawls to him like a vixen. It’s the first time Jun-ho is thrilled and fully aroused by a woman. Lily has the effect. He also had touched himself while thinking of her. She has the body of a goddess and her dulcet voice does things to him. Plus, her shyness makes him want to ravish her. 

Lily’s soft breasts sway when she goes to Jun-ho and he can see her folds being covered by a lace underwear. Her innocent yet lustful brown orbs and blushing cheeks are making him hard. Lily straddles his waist and her hands press Jun-ho’s chest. She feels a bit tingly from his strong gaze. His hands hold her perfectly curved waist. 

“Are you sure?” Jun-ho asked in a husky yet tender voice.

To his surprise, Lily nodded. “Yes. I want you.” She confessed to her future husband. A squeak lets out of her mouth when Jun-ho flips her. Now he is on top. His lips passionately kiss her plump rosy ones. Lily’s breath hitches when he forcefully sticks his tongue into her mouth. She wraps her arms around Jun-ho's neck to deepen it. Her tongue timidly licks his and he releases a dark chuckle.

Jun-ho pulls away with a sly smirk. “You look exquisite, my love. I didn’t expect you to dress like a slut for my birthday.” His filthy yet affectionate words have Lily covering her face with her hands and legs tightening around Jun-ho’s hips. Not to mention, her panty is no longer dry. 

“It’s embarrassing when you speak like that.” She has to get used to Jun-ho’s praises. She listens to the sound of him removing his shirt. He hovers into Lily’s space to remove her hands. Jun-ho’s smirk turns into a cordial smile. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be gentle.” He gives Lily’s hands kisses.

They take it slow, finding new places to kiss, lick, taste, and bite. Once taking off her babydoll and underwear, Jun-ho appreciates her goddess-like body creatively, using his hands, mouth, and tongue. His lips move to her cleavage. Lily does the same to him. She runs her hands over his muscular body with sculpted abs and pecs. Her hands stopped at his sweats. She grips the hemline and looks at Jun-ho.

He lifts his eyes, “Yes, you may.” He says in a low voice. 

Now they’re both naked. Jun-ho sits up and pulls Lily onto his lap. She takes the time to admire him as if she hasn’t done that before. However, she has discovered beauty in her man. She gasps when she feels his cock, rises big against her ass. Lily feels her folds getting wetter because Jun-ho is undeniably beautiful. 

“Jun-ho!” She cried out his name when his mouth immediately sought an erected nipple, sucking greedily. 

He has been waiting to taste these adorable buds. 

Lily then moans loudly from his fingers touching her pearl. Jun-ho releases her nipple and speaks into her ear. “You’re so sensitive. I hope you can handle my cock.” He groans and continues to rub Lily’s twitching folds. She becomes a mess when his index and middle fingers slide inside. Her squeals and gasps are airy and high-pitched like a mellifluous melody. Jun-ho can feel her holding his shoulder roughly from the euphoria. His fingers move intensely. 

“I-I feel something. I-I d-don’t know.” Lily stutters as pleasure fills in her stomach. 

Jun-ho demands, “Cum. Cum, angel.” 

She does what he says. A loud, delicious moan escapes from her mouth. She can feel a cream substance explode from her cunt and onto Jun-ho’s fingers and abs. Overstimulated, Lily hugs him by wrapping her arms underneath his biceps to feel his sturdy back. Jun-ho gives her a moment to recover because she is twitching. His clean hand rubs her back. 

“Again, are you sure? I don’t have protection.” He is being cautious. Lily makes an effort to respond to him. “Yes, I’m ready. And I do have them in my nightstand drawer. Don’t ask.” Her cheeks burned and she felt his chest move up and down because he was laughing. 

Lily moves off of him as Jun-ho takes one condom and tears it open to put it on. He gently lays his woman on the bed and goes on top. “You can scratch and bite me if it’s too much,” Jun-ho reassures Lily, even though he’ll enjoy a bit of pain. 

A joyful smile graces her face. “Okay.” She is officially letting him have her body. 

Lily locks her legs behind his back, angling herself as he pushes through, inch by inch. She gasps, throwing her head back and whimpering in delight. Jun-ho moves with purpose, reveling in her as he gives her every bit of himself and listens to her gasps turn into throaty moans. Lily shudders against him, and he picks up her hips so he can hit that one place that’ll drive her wild. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.” Jun-ho is proud to worship what’s his endlessly. 

Her walls close around Jun-ho and he grips the sheets. Lily kisses his temple, crying against his shoulder as she reaches the cusp and orgasms. 

The lovers spent the night intertwined underneath the full moon. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

Golden rays of the sun ascended from the horizon. It’s the next morning and everywhere is quiet. 

Lily dug into Jun-ho’s chest, wrapping her like a blanket with his athletic arms. The sun begins to beam through the curtains. She grimaces when light shines on her to wake her up. Her chocolate brown eyes blinked open and she first noticed her sleeping fiancé. He looks so peaceful and cute. Not like last night. 

“You can take a picture, it’ll last forever.” 

Jun-ho’s deep, drowsy voice scares Lily. His eyes are still closed. She pouts, “I wasn’t looking.” A failed excuse that made him laugh in contentment. 

He opens those warm brown irises that she loves. Jun-ho plays a grin. “Good morning. Do you have any plans for today?” He asked and brushed her luscious brunette strands out of her face. Lily replied, “Yes. I’m having a girl’s day with So-eun. I forgot to mention she bought that dress for me and the condom.” A blush blooms her fair cheeks. Jun-ho laughs at her bashful expression. 

“Tell So-eun that I said thank you.” He receives a light smack from Lily. His outgoing fiancé gets extremely shy about intimacy or sex. It also makes Jun-ho fall for her more because she is so pure-hearted. 

Lily lets out a breath. “I need to get ready or she’ll blow up my phone.” She knows So-eun hates waiting and it’s understandable. Jun-ho buries his face into her face and whines. “Why must you go?” He sounds like an upset child. Lily didn’t think the almighty Jun-ho would be so clingy. 

“Don’t you have work, mister?” She giggles when he groans in annoyance. His grumpy side is amusing to her because he knows his chief will yell at him if he doesn’t show up. That man has no patience and is forever cranky.

It’s also the weekend, but Jun-ho picked up a shift to earn extra. The next day, he’ll go sailing, which he’d been doing since June, and can’t find the island where the game took place. “I take that as yes.” Lily does a little nudge but Jun-ho has no complaint. He feels her delicate fingers brushing his dark locks. If only he could stay like this for eternity.

No nightmares, no worries, and no complications. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need to vent, you can always come to me.” Lily has no problem being Jun-ho’s leaning shoulder because, in their future marriage, they need to express themselves. Communication has improved for them, but Jun-ho will not tell his mother and Lily the truth about In-ho and the sinister game that lures people to their deaths. 

The man lifts his head from his love's hair to kiss her swollen lips. “Thank you. And you stay safe.” He gives her a direct reminder with love and care. Lily nods, “Of course. The same goes for you.” She hugs his neck and lays a little kiss on the side of her darling’s cheek. 

Afterward, Jun-ho is freshened up and puts on his uniform. He looks like he is getting ready for school, which is what Lily once commented and he does. 

Jun-ho stands in front of her full-length mirror to tie his tie. When he was a detective it was different. He wore regular clothes, a badge, and a gun holster. It was nice but he isn’t positive about going back. Guess road safety suits him better. 

Eventually, Jun-ho goes to the kitchen where he notices Lily is laying out breakfast dishes and two mugs on the table. She wears a plain white shirt, a jean skirt, and frilly socks. Her long brunette hair is up in a high ponytail. The sight makes his heart full because he gets to wake up to his beautiful angel every day in the future. 

Jun-ho approaches Lily and brings his left arm around her waist. “Good morning. The food looks divine.” His eyes land on the two avocado toast with over medium eggs. Lily smiles, “I used to eat these when I lived in America. It’s like comfort food for me.” She would share Jun-ho her childhood meals and it impresses him how tasty they are. 

“Well, I’ll be enjoying it.” He pecks her cheek as a thank you and sits down to devour the toast. Lily joins him and pushes a mug of black coffee into the center. “For you because you need your energy.” She figures he’ll have a long day. Jun-ho grins mirthfully because Lily knows him too well. 

He almost forgot to tell her something when it hit him. Jun-ho says, “My birthday wish is to marry the love of my life and it came true.” He sees Lily blushing with a big smile. She coos, “Aww. I’m glad that it’s happening. Also, tell omonim about it.” He did keep a promise and he shall commit. 

Jun-ho responds, “Of course. You know how my omma is. She had been waiting for it when I first entered my adulthood.” 

Lily laughs blithely because Mrs. Hwang can be a little nosy.

series masterlist | three

[dottowos]

subire me.

synopsis: It’s your birthday, and your only wish is to have Webttore underneath you. Being the good lover he is, he agrees to your shenanigans just this once (not).

includes: dottore (webttore) w/ fem! reader

notes: Webttore is referred to as Beta. Established relationship, oral (Webby receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, you ride him, dom reader, subby Webby, reader uses no pronouns, MDNI. Gift for my dear bestie <3

You never considered yourself a greedy person. You were always content and grateful for what you had, rarely ever wanting to take more by using force. That however applies to everything besides Il Dottore.

To be fair, it wasn’t like the attitude was unreciprocated. In fact, the man’s way of thinking was what rubbed off on you. If he desired you wholly, why would you feel any different? You were too lovely for him not to take for his own. He was too captivating for you to let go of. If he wanted to see your beautiful side, you should see his too. If he accepted your ugly side, you would take care of his own too. 

If he wanted to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you while you begged for him to slow down, it was only fair that the same should be done to him - which was the reason Beta was now currently underneath you huffing with a grumpy expression.

“Aww, come on love. You agreed to this, did you not?” You chuckled at his defiance, never wanting to be the one submitting to another.

“Only because you were adamant about pestering me the whole time,” he scowled, crossing his arms at your more than pleased expression. You rolled your eyes in amusement, beginning to unbutton your top which quickly got Beta’s attention back on you again.

“You act as if I’m sentencing you to death…” you laughed as your breasts spilled out, and Beta dug his nails deeper into his arm to resist his urges, “You trust me, right? So just let me take care of you… as you do for me,” you hummed, pulling off your bottoms and leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“An odd request for the one whose birthday it is,” Beta continued to grumble, though his tone lowered at the sight of your bare body. 

“What can I say? You always knew that I’m a little weird,” you smiled as you crawled back and hovered over him, nudging your knee between his leg to which he gritted his teeth, “But let’s focus on you, yeah?” With that, you cupped his cheek and kissed him in an attempt to get him to lighten up, and of course, it worked after a few seconds, his body slackening to your sweetness. You sighed against his lip, working on removing his vest and bowtie while he moved to your whim.

It did feel quite odd not to have his hands roaming about your body, but you think it was more tortuous for him than you judging from the growing hardness near your leg. Well, the whole situation was a bit odd in general, usually Beta would be babbling on about anything and everything - how exquisite you looked taking him, what he’s done to you, what he will do to you… all with sharp teeth on display and a maniac grin. Now, however, he was strangely quiet, teeth grazing his lip with an unreadable expression, but definitely red ears.

"See how badly you want this? I know you could easily stop me if you wanted to, love, I haven't even tied you up this time. But here you are being so good and needy for me..." you sighed as your finger traced along his neck, your other hand placed firmly on his chest.

So cute. Good thing the segments were more organic rather than mechanical. Otherwise, you’d probably have made them short-circuit by now. You eagerly moved on to finally tugging his shirt off, exposing his chest. Ah, you had told yourself you’d have patience, but how could you when the scholar was laid out for you so pliantly like a sweet treat for the taking? You just really wanted him crying for you already.

“So what? Is this what you wanted all along?” The segment sneered, an attempt to fluster you and grasp some semblance of control back. But you only smiled.

“And what if it is? Trying to goad me before I even start isn’t the best idea, Beta.”

“You could see me like this whenever you wanted,” he scoffed.

“Not underneath me,” you clarified, watching with delight as his dismay further increased as you drove home the reality of the situation. “Now, do try to relax a bit. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” You teased as you suddenly began palming his bulge, to which he held back an embarrassing moan with all his might, and you could have laughed at his stubbornness, which was what you predicted, to be honest.

“You don’t want to moan for me that bad? That makes me sad,” you said in false hurt, beginning to kiss his clothed cock, just barely a bit of pleasure that was not nearly enough.

“This is not ‘taking care of me,’” he hissed out in irritation, repeating your exact words. Your torture had his patience running thin, something this segment did not have much of in the first place. Oh, how he wanted you to wrap your lips around him already, his hands firm on your head as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth.

… But here he was, reduced to a mere toy. It was a pitiful state for him to be in, throbbing cock left neglected. Beta’s arm slowly began to ease toward you, hoping to feel you like he’d always had before you caught him with a pout.

“What did I say? No touching unless I let you,” you chided him as you returned his hand to gripping the sheets instead. “Relax… I’m not as cruel as you,” you reasoned as you finally pulled down his pants, making his bulge more prominent. Some relief, but not sweet enough yet. You sighed as you played with the band of his underwear, thinking of all the ways you could toy with him like you toyed with you…

… But for now, your own patience was lacking. It was not a problem though, considering you were sure there’d be more opportunities despite the segment’s scoffs. So with one swift tug, you let his leaking cock free from its confines, rewarded with a held-back sigh of contentment from the scholar.

Dottore’s face was always a pleasure to look at. To see how he’s changed over the years, to see the age that settled in. Beta in particular had always been dashing, although not many people saw him unmasked. Youthful unscarred skin slightly reddened in pleasure, lips quivering for a few seconds before he quickly bit down to prevent any more unbecoming noises. It made you squeeze your own legs together in desire, but you wanted to see him come undone from a bit of teasing for once.

You wrapped your hand around Beta’s cock, giving it an experimental stroke to gauge his reaction. Not much yet, unfortunately. Moving closer to him, you placed a small kiss at the base, and began planting them as you finally reached the tip of his cock. Pre-cum was already dripping out from how long you’ve denied him the warmth of your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip before heatedly pressing it elsewhere, making sure to put on a show for him, as he released another groan. 

You admired his self-restraint, however. Alpha would have already been desperately bucking his hips. Still, Beta’s expression was simply exquisite. Eyes looking at you with dismay, as if he himself was surprised by his own actions, and fists clenched so hard, if he was a regular human he’d have drawn blood by now. It was already more than you could have hoped for, but you were excited to stretch the boundary.

Finally, you enveloped your mouth with him, taking as much as you could handle. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, hell, if not for his pride you were sure he wanted to come right there. Slowly, you moved up and down his cock, using your hand to stroke the rest of it. Normally, the segment would be snapping his hips at an inhuman pace seeking his release but to see him have to keep unusually stiff like this was amusing. You didn’t take your eyes off of your lover, his lewd expression motivating you to continue. 

You knew he was close. He was never one to delay his orgasms, too impatient to wait compared to his older selves. And after the delightful performance he put on for you tonight, it felt too mean to deny him, this time at least. You increased your pace, moaning around his cock, the sensation making Beta shudder, and finally he spilled into your mouth. You paused to accommodate the sudden load sprayed into you, dutifully swallowing and slowly pulling away from his cock to catch a breath.

After a brief break, you languidly ran your tongue over him again, cleaning up the mess he made. Beta hadn’t said anything yet aside from his lessening pants.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t enjoy this,” you lazily teased, eyes softening at his blissed-out look.

“Quiet,” Beta demanded, although his voice held no real harshness. It was obvious he was just embarrassed he came that much from submitting to you. “Hurry and finish whatever it is you want to do.” His command, which was more like a plea wrapped up in false dominance, egged you on to finally pull off your soaked underwear. Now, despite being knocked down a peg, Beta still found it mesmerizing to see how wet you were despite having not been touched by him. How he wished to have your slick smeared across his face instead of it being wasted dripping down your lips, but this was what you wished for…

Beta’s previous demeanor seeped away as he watched you line yourself up with his cock, wanting his head to be clear enough to see you swallow him up. With one thrust, you lowered yourself onto him, his cock filling you to the brim. You nearly lost yourself to pleasure right there, were it not for the fact you remembered you’re supposed to be teasing him. This was the first time he let you ride him, after all. You needed to show him how good it could feel. 

You lifted yourself up, relishing the slow drag of his cock, before quickly dropping back onto him. In no time you found your pace and bounced on it, gasping and pressing your hand onto his chest. Beta looked at you with an expression beyond pleasure that words could describe, watching you use him to your heart’s content. His hands itched to squeeze your soft thighs, to dig his hands into them and perhaps lift you up and down his cock himself. Thankfully, his desire was answered.

Deciding to finally relieve him of his aching hands, you grabbed them and pushed them toward your breasts, thighs, tummy - whatever he wanted to touch. Not one to waste opportunities, he quickly took advantage of your kindness and reached to rub your clit, moving to pinch and pull at your breasts at the same time, delighting in how you threw your head back in gratification. Well, he wasn’t the only one who was allowed to do that. Not wanting to be outdone, you moved as fast as you could, lewd slaps nearly contending with your breathy moans as you watched as Beta in turn screwed his face up and let out his own hushed moan as well. 

With his nails dug into your thighs so hard you were sure they’d leave marks, with one final movement Beta spurted into you hard as you immediately came right after from the filling feeling. You were both left to breathe, bodies relaxing from the previous intensity. Your energy flowed away as you sighed, enjoying how cum continued to gush from your cunt. You laid down to cuddle on Beta’s chest, nuzzling gently into him. A few seconds later, his hand rested on your head, stroking and calming you down. You two stayed quiet like that for a little while, save for a few questions and if you needed water and such. 

“Are you happy?” Beta grumpily piped up, as he peered down at you, admittedly admiring how pretty you looked in the afterglow. You smiled.

“Very. My gift was very useful and compliant. An amazing birthday, that’s for sure.” Another ‘hmph’ made you softly giggle, before your laughter was turned into a squeal, as the segment maneuvered your back to be pressed against the mattress now.

“Good. Now that you’ve had your fun, I can give you the gift I originally had planned,” Beta smiled at you a bit eerily, and you realized his cock began to swell in you once again. But you only looked at him with a cocky grin.

“Is that so? Well, I love receiving multiple gifts. In fact, give me as much as you desire…”

[luv-beam]

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

[etiolatedmutant]

casual poolverine affection pt. 2 (electric boogaloo)

logan dragging wade’s long legs over his lap and absently stroking up and down his shins while wade talks. sometimes his fingers drift up to wade’s thighs, but it’s without expectation — he just likes how wade’s scars feel beneath his fingertips, and the touch grounds wade enough that he doesn’t lose his train of thought as often

wade rubbing the knots out in logan’s neck while they’re watching something. he’s always so tense there, muscles taut and hard as rocks, and so wade presses deft fingers against logan’s nape and the topmost notch of his spine until logan’s eyes are fluttering and he’s making soft little “hurts so good” noises low in his throat

wade “helping” logan cook dinner by sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the kitchen counter and dutifully accepting spoonfuls of Whatever logan’s making to “test” it. he doesn’t think logan actually needs a second opinion, and wade’s is skewed all to fuck anyway on account of the cancer ruining his tastebuds, but neither one cares. logan cups his palm beneath whatever utensil he’s pushing between wade’s lips each time, and wipes the mess wade’s tongue isn’t quick enough to catch with his thumb

logan initiating hand-holding literally all the time, even (especially) in public. and not teenybopper hand-holding, either, no — logan tangles their fingers together and holds on for dear life, partially because wade gets distracted and needs to be Dragged forward a little from time to time, but mostly logan just likes holding his fuckin hand. he’ll swing it up and around sometimes, draping one arm over wade’s shoulders and pulling him tight against his body while wade maintains their knotted fingers by keeping that hand fixed across his chest

i couldn’t tell you who initiates more kisses because they’re tied, i fear. before logan goes to work? he kisses wade once on the lips. when logan comes home? wade bounds up and smacks another kiss to his mouth. logan face down in wade’s stomach, half-asleep while the tv drones on in the background? wade’s sweeping logan’s hair off his forehead and planting a kiss there. logan little-spooning and stirring awake in the middle of the night because he has to piss? he’s kissing the side of wade’s face as apology for having to extricate himself from wade’s arms

[me-writes-prompts]

:-Fic Title Ideas-:

(Some of these are taken out of my dialogue prompts!!! Tag me if you use any of these :)

By @me-writes-prompts

Do you want to make it forever?

Soothing kisses

Dance through the night

Sing for me, kiss me

A smile so pretty, it could melt hearts

This is why I fell in love with you

To have you in my arms for the last time

Silent death

I left you a note, did you read it?

You’re my home

Beautiful tragedies start here

Let’s shine like the moonlight

Scars never looked so good on someone

But is this the end?

Colliding moons

Early mornings and late nights

Distance between our hearts

My dear enemy, I love you

Poisonous words 

When the birds sing, I’ll be with you

And it’s a promise I’ll always keep

Until the sun rises

Call me and tell me your dreams

Every time we fall in love

So will you please lie with you? 

Hazy clouds in your eyes

You found my flaws

Flowers and thorns

[espressoristretto-patronum]

[sorry already for the long post and broken English 🙃]

✨Best people of 2024✨

Thank you to the people who have thought of me, even considering me one of the best, you don't know how much I've appreciated your tags! (no, I'm not crying, no no).

I'm answering now because I was spending the holidays with my family and... I got a little overwhelmed by your tags, I didn't expect so many of them 😭

Let's start saying that this is the list of the best people of Tumblr: @everyone. Seriously everyone is so nice and talented and you guys have seriously saved my 2024. And all of your MCs are so dear to me!

But there are of course some people I want to thank personally, even if I believe I can't really express my deep gratitude.

@celestial--sapphic I thank you for a million things: for writing the best sapphic fanfictions (pure poetry, you're indeed my favourite writer!), for encouraging me to open this blog, for when I decided to start writing my fanfiction and you volunteered as beta-reader and seriously I couldn't ask for a better person! You are so patient and so supportive with my English and I thank you for the positive feedback I got on my work! Last but not least I thank you for that amazing drabble because TORI AND POPPY WRITTEN BY MY FAV WRITER? HELLO 112 YES HI I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK!  My heart melts every time I read it, because of course, I still read your works!

@superconductivebean my first follower ❤️ Thank you for all the tags on your beautiful drabbles! I enjoyed every single one! I'm not so into throuple but Poppy x Julia x Imelda is the amazing exception! You're headcanons are the best I want to marry your brain!

@infernalrusalka THE COOLEST! Talking to you is always a great pleasure! You were also one of my first followers and you was already so supportive! I'm forever grateful we met here on Tumblr ❤️

@myokk my spanish counterpart aka EL DIABLO for killing me a million times with your amazing arts and writing! I still can't believe that a person so talented and cool is talking to a little potato like me 😭 I keep looking at your work with heart eyes. I mean, Tori in my favourite artist's style?! Three times?! 😭 Answering your tag (I had a nice heart attack when I saw it 🥹): I had ALL reason to be supportive, you deserve every single kudos, reblog and positive comments in the world! Not only you are so talented (girl, is there anything you can't do?!), but you're also so nice and sweet and humble! It's always a pleasure talking to you, commenting your wonderful works! Thanks to you I've read To kill a mockingbird and now is literally one of my favourite book! But also, thank you for A little life, I still keep a good distance from that book lmao

@heyitszev and @theladyofshalott1989 the HL queer community is so glad and honored to have you, seriously! You make Tumblr a safer place for queers and I thank you so much for including me ❤️ also, before you I was quite adamant about not reading Sebastian x MC ff but you changed my mind! You're so talented and it's always a pleasure reading your works! Even if sometimes I'm so slow! 😅

Also, you both wrote Tori in your stories and really I'm not crying, I just have a hippogriff in my eyes 😭

@rypnami you! Come here and let me hug you! Before you Leander was just a side npc but now "it's Char's boy!", don't stop being creative and unique!

@gothic-lottie my Gothic Latte ❤️ you're a great artist and writer, your works are great! Keep doing because I love your stories and fanarts!

@traceyc-uk @dom1re @diana-bluewolf every time I see your works the kudos is automatic! I love your boys! And it's even better when I see them together when you collaborate!

@endeavour12345 you and Philip deserve a lot of hugs 🫂🫂 I love reading your works ❤️ thank you for the hugs you dropped in my comments when I felt sad!

A special thanks to the amazing HCU squad: @acslytherpuff @girl-named-matty @savingsallow (MY SWEETEST WIFE BEAN 😘) @ps-cactus @accio-bagel @ravenwind-75 @theladyofshalott1989 @leaping-toadstool-caps @freddiestheproblemchild

I've surely thanked you a thousand times for being the best, for being so supportive and what an honour for including Tori 😭

Only a few times in my life I received more love than I've given and for this I will forever thankful ❤️ I'm so happy I can call you friends and thank you again for being there when I needed it, thank you for making me laugh even when I'm down, thank you for everything 🫂

@midnight-faye  quanto è bello trovare un'altra italiana! Sono contenta che tu sia parte del fandom, adoro la storia di Erina! Immagina lei e Tori nella stessa stanza? UN CHIASSO!

@light-of-the-room @morrowlegacy @sparxyv @heylorrain @raenegade-accio @thursdaymoonrise11 few of my newest followers but your art have already my heart, and you of course, because you're so nice! Can't wait to see more!

@knightxflowers the author of one of my favourite Poppy x MC, and I'm still so super invested in your ff, can't wait to read more!

@mscostac I'm so so glad @ps_cactus has suggested your ff because only a talented person like you could write an amazing ff with Taylor's lyrics as references! And Tori and Poppy mentioned in the epilogue? WHAT AN HONOUR, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

@lynnsartsworld hope you're doing okay during this break! I enjoyed the conversations we had 😁 Can't wait to see more April and Poppy!

@anomalyaly @saibugslegacy @shanaraharlyah @thriftstorebabayaga @a-usernamelol @honeybadgerdontcare394 @the-chaotic-scilla-aster @thingsmaygetalittlecrazy @pitter-patter-pottah @boxdstars @jam-the-silly @m3nta11yunstab13 @kiwiplaetzchen @lilac-ravenclaw maybe we didn't talk much, but I love seeing your stuff everytime I scroll Tumblr and your comments on my silly stuff! You're so talented and nice!

Last but definitely not the least a big thank you to @myokk @celestial--sapphic @girl-named-matty @a-florable @acslytherpuff @pheexblack @ladyofsappho @mscostac @rypnami @ravenwind-75 @savingsallow @leaping-toadstool-caps @accio-bagel @endeavour12345 for drawing/writing/taking photo of Tori, you can't believe how much I appreciate your works which are literally gifts, I'm really surrounded amazing and talented people 🥹 I still go back on your works because I love every one of them, I will never thank you enough for taking your time doing them for me!

Thank you all again ❤️ I love you and I wish 2025 is a year full of fulfilled dreams ❤️ you deserve all love!

[merakiui]

More centaur heartslabyul crumbs pls (or maybe other dorms too if possible)

Riddle is probably a show pony! A small centaur who’s prized for his tournament capabilities. He has lots of wins under his belt and is quite proud of his achievements, but no award could possibly compare to the praise of his handler. He loves to receive your compliments the most, and he preens under your attention. Riddle isn’t a braggart by nature, but he fears he may become one the more he shows off for you during practice or training just to impress you.

Deuce is also a centaur who participates in various competitions. He’s the best at galloping and running, the fastest out of the five centaurs you’re looking after. When he isn’t training for his next competition, he’s helping you on the farm. Deuce is a sweetheart, a true gentle giant! >w< he loves being useful and helping out wherever he can. Whether it’s by carrying heavy loads for you or even giving you a lift when you’re too tired or lazy to walk the distance, he’ll do anything if it makes your life just a smidge easier. <3

Trey is also excellent help. He’s best at transporting heavy things, but his real strength is assisting you in the kitchen. He pokes his head in through the window to give you tips and advice when you’re baking something. If the treats for the centaurs taste better than they normally do, Trey’s the one to thank. You’re grateful for his advice. Of course you should also listen carefully to what he says because last time you blindly trusted him he managed to convince you to add oyster sauce into Riddle’s tart. T_T he’s got jokes, that mischievous centaur!!!! (Thankfully, Riddle is weak to you and was easily consoled.)

Ace isn’t exactly the best help. He shirks his duties more than he actually does them, but he’s very good when you need company or a good laugh. He’ll accompany you all over the farm grounds, chatting with you about anything and everything, while you go about your chores. There’s been talks of gathering his semen for breeding purposes, but Ace is huffy about that. You don’t know this, but he’s very particular about who he wants to give that to (it’s you). He’s only willing to bust one if it’s inside you or on you or for you… but you don’t need to know that (yet). :)

Cater helps manage your social media presence! The farm offers a variety of fresh produce and canned goods, and you don’t have all the time in the world perfecting your website or scheduling posts. That’s where Cater comes in! He loves having access to your social media because he’s changed it for the better. It’s gone from boring to brilliant! So slay and trendy. <3 you get more site traffic and views after his hard work. You’re very thankful for his expertise, otherwise you wouldn’t have drawn in so much more business.

Your centaurs love you and would do anything for you. Sometimes they get into rivalries and quarrels over your attention, but it’s always Trey’s brilliant suggestion to share. Surely their dear handler wouldn’t be opposed to that, yes? :) until then, it’s lots of pining and concealed, one-sided sexual tension. ^^;;; do not be around them during the breeding season… or do. >:)

[rie-092]

Hi, i love ypur dinamic.

When I read lycris number 8 I inmediatly tough of Claude de Alber Obelia.

Maybe where the reader is someone whi he grow up and it could be Athanasio or Felix Fiance/wife <3

EVENT'S ENTRY OO1 : POSSESSION

[ yandere! claude de alger obelia ]

note: here's the link about the event! i love this prompt. this would be fun!

okay, let's start with the time before everything became messy.

there is one reason why you became anastacius's wife despite the two of you being way too young to get married. they wanted to tie your family down to the imperial family and anastacius was the one who acted as a shackle to make sure that your family will stay still and be the imperial family's loyal dog.

but honestly, being in the imperial family wasn't that bad. because you have anastacius and his younger brother, claude who was still young that time.

the first time you met claude, there's only one thing that came into your mind. why in the hell did they abuse this cute little creature?

that's the reason how you and anastacius became claude's salvation inside the imperial palace.

you always plays with him, spend time with him, hell, you even go far on firing those maids who put sand on claude's soup (you're the crown princess and you have the every rights to do so, duh.)

but there is still this small doubt inside his mind. that this peace won't stay forever and there is a high chance that you will change once you grew up and realize that he was lacking in many aspects.

and that doubt was only fueled when anastacius slowly changed.

and anastacius started isolating you. and he started prohibiting you as well as claude from visiting each other. and that's how everything became messy.

you see, this is the main reason why claude lost it. the gentle facade that he created for you and anastacius. his confidence, his emotions, his everything as well as his mother.

but don't worry, this wasn't his boiling point. he still had lady margarita (forgot her name, my baddd). while you escape time to time to spend time with him.

he remembered back then, before his big brother's betrayal. when the two of you escaped the palace to play. he remembered it clearly, the time you said that you were on his side. and you will remain as his friend forever.

unknown to you, this only fuels the unhealthy feelings that he suppress for years. because hell, you were his big brother's wife!

and congrats! now you had a possessive and obsessive yandere who sees love as ownership! and damn, he will not let you escape, after all, you were his right?

and fast forward to the time where claude discovered lady margarita and anastacius' betrayal. instead of feeling betrayed, this man was delighted as hell.

he can still clearly remember how he sent you a letter using his brother's name and inviting you to the room where lady margarita and anastacius was doing the deed.

he remembered how excited he was seeing the horror in your eyes.

ahh, don't blame him. you left him no choice after all. because he knew that deep inside, you started on having a feeling towards his older brother.

and it's a big no because you were his.

and now, after all the shits happened. and he became the emperor. you suddenly said that you will now go back to your family?

no, no. how can you say that towards him, (name)? after all he did to keep you by his side? after all the blood that he spilled for you?

don't be surprise if you woke up in your palace, chained in your bed. and even had a collar with his name on it.

you made him do this so basically, this wasn't his fault. you made him insecure, you made him panic. so, technically, you deserve this.

oh, by the way. starving yourself to death won't work against claude because he won't hesitate to force you on eating. or even killing your family in front of you.

just give up, ( name ). because you were his as much as he was yours.

now, be a good girl and help him raise athanasia well, okay? <3

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ ahh, dear. stop being annoying or i would be the one to hold you down and put this damn food in your mouth. hmm? you don't like that right? now be a good girl and listen to me, okay? ”

[phosph-ate]

I was thinking

what if our dear Dr. Phosphorus was dating a reader who was once his right-hand man when he was the boss of Rupert Thorne's old gang?

me eating this idea:

OKAY, SO!

You got a lot of perks while he was the boss. I mean, literally anything you could ever want.

We'll just say you were already part of the gang, and he acquired you when he took over.

You're super smart and competent and not afraid of him, so he immediately liked you.

After a little bit, and lots of tension, you end up dating.

He is always so careful with you and also keeps you near/on him at all times.

IMAGINE SITTING IN HIS LAP??? RAAHHHH

if you are not immune to his radiation/flames, better get that RadAway because he CANNOT control himself... He does, but he would prefer to not.

If you are immune, well... 😈

Once Batman stops him, obviously things change. He gets sent away and even if you are lucky and get away, you fear you will never see him again.

Him convincing Rick and Waller to get you, whether you were put away too, or got away and are hiding. He says he'll be on extra good behavior (not a complete lie actually). Rick is curious...

You seem like you'll be able to help!! I mean, Dr. Phosphorus doesn't say too much but everything he says is such high praise.

if they rescue you from jail, or find you hiding in some undisclosed location, you are shocked.

Dr. Phosphorus is immediately naughty once you are even in his peripheral vision. He's been locked away; he can't help it... He needs you!!

Rick there like 🧍‍♂️"why did I agree to this???" he didn't know you were dating him, that's why.

You are so shocked to see him you do not believe he's real at first. he can't be.

You two are absolutely inseparable, Dr. Phosphorus kind of refuses to let you go once you're in his grasp. Not that you mind. You don't ever want to be without him again.

I NEED HIM. YOUR HONOR, I NEED HIM! I just think he's neat🧎

I kind of just went everywhere with these headcanons i may elaborate better eventually!! i have sooooo many thoughts!!

[sgiandubh]

Hola, hola! Pregunta de novata asombrada: De veras se casó con ese señor? Habláis de certificado de matrimonio que alguien se molestó en buscar? OMG...

Dear Novata Asombrada Anon,

En cuanto a todos mis anónimos hispanos, espero que no te importe que te contestaré en inglés, como muestra de cortesía hacia la gran mayoría de mis lectores. Gracias y aquí vamos con la traducción de tu pregunta. Y, para que no se me olvide, ¡bienvenida!

Hello, hello! Question from a shocked newbie: Did she really marry that man? Are you talking about a marriage certificate that someone bothered to look for? OMG…

Good morning and thank you for asking - you are not the only one today, it would seem. This question is making the rounds again (why?) and let's call this a (fortunate?) coincidence. The Marriage Certificate (MC) was the equivalent of the Great Christian Schism between Rome and Byzantium, in this fandom, mind you. Depending on your own take on the S&C Saga, it has been dreaded, expected, announced with great confidence and actively researched by fans, who simply took advantage of a very relaxed and transparent UK legislation, allowing for basically everyone to order a certified copy by email or snail mail, for a small fee.

The first fan aggressively trumpeting it online was (correct me if I am wrong) an ex-shipper who now goes by the handle of @brian-in-finance, also known as BIF, also known as Kidneystone. In her pedantic and arrogant little voice, she made a point of honor in dissecting absolutely every single detail of that dutifully certified piece of paper issued by the British General Register Office (GRO). A second, short-lived account, @hurleyburly, ordered the same paper and posted it on Tumblr, this time pudically hiding some details under a makeshift post-it. The usual fandom fortunetellers thought the handwriting on that 'post-it' was eerily similar to S's own, but we'll leave it at this. Although, I have to immediately add, I would not discount this possibility. A third prominent shipper account, @boyneriver-fraser, ordered it and made pathetic public amends over her previous shipping stance. Some others imitated them and received the exact same paper, followed by a seemingly endless trail of wrath, confusion and wailings.

People were understandably shocked, hurt and in definite anger over this. Many disembarked the ship, considering they had been either blind/idiot or cynically fooled by our Dynamic Duo, eager to sell the show. Speculation went rife. Some even tried to go the extra mile and believe they found out even more inconsistencies. I shall not speak on their behalf, simply because I was not here at the time and had no idea These Two will become such an (often invading) point of interest in my own life.

But irrespective of any inconsistencies, this paper legally exists. As such, it has legal effects that cannot and should not be discounted. I have always maintained it, as a professional. Likewise, I have consistently explained the Ibiza episode might be anything you could think of, from a romantic (?) picnic on a parking lot with a bird featuring a strange toupee (as per C's tweeted chirp), to a non legally binding handfasting ceremony (remember, LOL, 'some things are just for' Them). I have explained very early after my arrival why I do not think a Spanish marriage was in the cards. This is my final word about that #CarparkIbiza fanfic:

[Link: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/723029524897529856/i-have-asked-a-few-very-popular-bloggers-this?source=share - July 16, 2023]

More clearly put, national Spanish legislation requires the two foreign citizens to be residents in Spain, if they want to get married there. British consulates do not perform marriage ceremonies, either. And cross-border marriage rules in Europe, at the time applicable to a not yet Brexited UK, would have mandatorily required a transcription of the marriage papers in Britain. This is not the USA, where you can just go to Vegas, have your knot tied by an Elvis lookalike and divorce the next (hungover) morning. Or go to Tijuana and do what Sophia Loren and Carlo Ponti did in 1957, to great (bigamous) scandal. Rules are different. Rules exist, as stupid and cold as they might look. And one more time - they have tangible consequences.

At this point in time, you might logically ask yourself why I am still here. Is it because of the feeling of power and self-importance, as some nasty Anons remind me every single day? Is it because of the formidable people I have met in here? Yes, it is also because of them, but not only because of them, of course. And as far as any feeling of power and self-importance go, let's just say it's ridiculous to think so.

The reason I am still here is both simple and complicated to understand: a paper, even certified, does not a marriage make. Mark me, Anon: there is nothing (I repeat: nothing) normal about this one. There are secrets and lies and inconsistencies and gaslighting galore. The shippers know it. The Antis/Mordor know it. The Fencers know it. And every single one of these broad factions apparently has ample supplies of popcorn. And, as far as we go, champagne bottles stashed, plus a firm decision to have a Global Lollapalooza on the Internet the day this awkward situation would come to an end.

I have tried to answer your very legitimate question the best I could. I do not believe in sugarcoating or hiding anything. What I do believe in, is the power of critical thinking and the ability to coldly analyze facts, even if they do not encourage fantasy. You would be surprised of the things that do not click, in that official Narrative. Important things, not speculation. My blog primarily deals in this kind of stuff: things that do not click and paint a very different story than the one officially being peddled around.

And now, dear Shocked Newbie Anon, you are free to disembark, if you think I am still lying to you (what for, may I ask? just to receive every single day violent garbage into my Inbox?). But if you choose to stay with us, the tea is always brewing, somewhere. And mind you, it's often the finest Oolong you could find, because I honestly believe that we have the most formidable and unexpected assortment of witty minds and strong characters, in here.

[heylittleriotact]

Ｍａｓｓａｇｅ(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1/2)

Manipulation of tissue in the course of preparation of the body

“Forgive me if I come across as overly familiar, dear, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?” Her eyes darted from his, looked at his hands, his wine glass, his own half-finished salad - anywhere but at him. “I… I uh…” Andraste’s ashes, she felt like a dull-minded idiot whenever she opened her mouth around him.

My sensual take on Rook's dinner date with Emmrich, and how it lead to them sleeping together for the first time.

Rating: Explicit

Under the cut or on ao3

Neve was right - I should have worn the old shoes…

She shifted her knee upward slightly and pressed the ball of her foot into the ground, freeing her right heel from stiff new leather and hiding her grimace of relief behind the rim of her wine glass as she wriggled her somewhat crushed toes now that they weren’t crammed together, fighting for space in the narrow toe box. 

There were a perfectly good pair of well broken in heels sitting in her wardrobe back at the Lighthouse that would have been more than acceptable to wear to dinner with Emmrich, but no, she just had to go to Dock Town earlier in the day with Neve who had all but insisted she buy herself something nice for the occasion…

‘Not saying you don’t know how to clean up - I know you Watchers are a well put together bunch, but I don’t know… maybe you’ll have a nicer evening if you’re not sitting across from Emmrich wearing the same clothes you wear to make funeral arrangements with people?‘

‘I’m almost certain he’ll be sitting across from me wearing the same clothes he wears to make funeral arrangements with people,’ Amina had pointed out, and Neve laughed.

‘How sure are you about that? I’d put my money on him showing up in the most formal, four-piece ensemble he owns if it helps his chances of getting you into bed tonight.’

She had a point - but not about sex. Amina knew perfectly well that weeks and weeks of burning tension shrouded under the polite mantle of collegial professionalism had become increasingly difficult to ignore now that they were… well - now that they were… together. That shoe was going to have to drop sooner rather than later, unless…She wrinkled her nose at the very thought: Unless he was the sort to take a courtship so seriously that abstinence from intimate activities was expected until she shared his name…

But no… surely not. Not judging by the way his hands wandered confidently around her waist and his lips eagerly roamed her neck when he kissed her against the Lovers’ Grave.

Be that as it may, she still didn’t want to overdress for the occasion - how embarrassing would that be? How oblivious?

Her face reddened at the imagined awkwardness of waiting for Emmrich at the eluvian, dressed in a lavish floor-skimming evening gown and gloves, her mass of sleek black hair time-consumingly plaited and pinned up to emphasize the small amount of grave gold that she owned, retrieved from its dusty velvet-lined box for the first time in years because she never had occasion - nor the desire - to actually wear any of it, unlike her gentlemanly new companion who clanged and clattered around everywhere he went like a sentient drawer of silverware. 

He’d inevitably appear, descending the stairs from the library wearing what he wore every day - that well-loved waistcoat, a crisp clean shirt, and his favoured combed Druffalo wool trousers. He’d look as handsome as always, and not at all underdressed for a romantic dinner in the 

Necropolis, and his eyes would widen at the spectacle of her dressed like she was heading off for cocktails with the King of Ferelden. The corners of his mouth would twitch and he’d clear his throat in a polite attempt to stifle his laughter. 

At her. 

At how absolutely stupid she looked.

‘It’s dinner - not a setup for a marriage proposal, Neve.’

‘If you say so, but if there’s a cummerbund involved, you owe me five gold.’

‘He wears a cummerbund every day,’ she sighed, turning and pulling open the door to one of the many clothing boutiques populating the market district. 

‘I thought it was a sash.’

‘Don’t let him hear you say that unless you want an hour long oration on the particulars of ‘a gentleman’s wardrobe.’’

At the sound of the bell over the door tinkling, the boutique owner appeared from behind a rack of angular Tevene formal gowns. 

She wiped her clammy palms on her pants - shit she was bad at this. She always had been. She hadn’t even been on a dinner date in what… three years? 

And now she was sitting across from him, as predicted, wearing the stiff deepstalker leather shoes she’d purchased in a state of utter panic at the shop, along with a plunging, emerald green satin blouse that Neve insisted she leave with, and a new fishtail skirt that she admittedly quite liked: it was a woven fabric, mid-length, pinstriped in black and a rich chocolate brown. The ruffled hem was arranged with thin laces that lended the article a rather pretty bustled look that she thought nicely accentuated the curve of her rear. Disaster of an evening or not, that skirt was going to become a frequently worn item.

And as for the prospect of sleeping together…

She tipped back her glass again. Found it empty. 

Dammit.

“Allow me.” 

She looked up from the empty crystal goblet to see Emmrich’s hand reaching over the table, waiting patiently for her to pass him the glass. The warm light of the candles on the table between them contrasted with the cool light of the veilfire lanterns and the subtle, ever shifting glow of the wisps that floated lazily around them, drawn to curiously observe the spectacle of the two courting Watchers taking their dinner in the Memorial Gardens. 

He had indeed dressed as she predicted: put together, poised… perfect. A man who looked like he was always prepared to hold court at a lectern, soothe a wayward spirit, or arrange a romantic meal complete with an embossed menu with gilded corners. 

He was so untouchable, so lofty and distinguished, yet there was an aspect of him that she still couldn’t quite place - perhaps she hadn’t known him long enough yet. Perhaps their relationship was still too new and he’d not seen fit to reveal such parts of himself to her for fear that she would flee. Whatever it was dwelled deep beneath that veneer of perfection, shrouded so well from view that it simply begat speculation.

Was he some sort of deviant? Was this all a facade to disguise a self-serving, narcissistic monster who would eventually wear her down and rob her of her personhood as he claimed her and reduced her to little more than a pretty possession to wear on his arm to fancy parties? 

Maybe this was just how he operated: luring in vulnerable and attractive partners until he bored of them and left them for someone more interesting?

Was he a priggish asshole and this was a finely honed act that had worked well for his purposes until he no longer had need to maintain it?

There had to be a reason why a man as genuine and kind as this hadn’t been snatched up decades earlier. 

There had to be some literal or figurative skeleton lurking in his closet, and once she tore open the doors and shed light on it, she suspected would step back and place her hands on her hips as she surveyed the stinking desiccated corpse of Truth with a grim and knowing smile, simultaneously satisfied and despondent that she had finally confirmed that Emmrich Volkarin was in fact too good to be true, just as she knew he’d be.

‘Ah yes, there it is,’ she’d say with the nonchalance of someone who’d just found a missing earring stuck behind a cushion, utterly unsurprised and proud of herself for seeing through him and catching onto his game before he could do any real damage. Then she’d gently close the doors of the closet and leave, and he would never hear from her again.

But until such time…

Her scarlet lips parted in a smile and she extended her hand, slipping the delicate crystal stem into his fingers, not drawing back when they made contact, her fingertips brushing over over his own and lingering for perhaps a moment longer than they needed to before they parted and he refilled her glass, the steady ‘glug, glug’ of the wine filling the silence between them. 

He passed it back to her and she said thank you, and this time it was his fingers that lingered - like he had been waiting for some sort of unspoken permission to touch her. 

Heat pooled in her belly, and she pressed her thighs together, letting her other heel slip from its shoe, praying he couldn’t see the flush that was heating her cheeks under the rouge that she wore on them. She drank from the glass and set it down gently, returning to the stunningly arranged blood orange salad on the plate before her, collecting a few pine nuts on her fork before skewering a mouthful of greens as silence fell between them again.

Fuck - this was just as awkward as she thought it would be - he was probably regretting suggesting this in the first place…

“What do you make of the wine?” 

Oh good, they were going to make small talk about what they were drinking: one of the most blatant indications that a date was going terribly.

“It’s nice. Refresh me on its origin?” 

He set down his fork and held up his own glass to the candlelight, swirling the semi-translucent garnet vintage and watching it recede down the sides, observing its legs discerningly. “Quite enigmous, truth be told: an entire crate of bottles was left sitting outside the main gate of the Necropolis over a decade ago with no note, no shipping manifest, each bottle containing this same wine - Adirondack Red, according to the label, bottled on well… a date that falls outside the format of any Chantry, Tevinter, or Elven calendars going back to the beginning of dated history.” He angled the glass and dipped his nose into the bowl, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in the fragrance of the wine. He took a sip, letting it roll over his tongue before smiling pleasantly at Amina. “Could it be the mystery of it that makes it taste so scintillating, or does it stand on its own merit?”

“Mhmm…” Amina breathed, realizing she hadn’t blinked in over a minute - she’d been tracking Emmrich’s every move with a gaze that was nothing short of predatory… hungry. The heat that simmered deep in her core flared and sparked, embers of its existence rising up through her like molten sap spitting from a piece of burning pine. “Merit…”

He set the glass down, folding his long fingered hands together in front of him to lean forward slightly, his expression soft and inquisitive.

“Forgive me if I come across as overly familiar, dear, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?”

Her eyes darted from his, looked at his hands, his wine glass, his own half-finished salad - anywhere but at him. “I… I uh…”

Andraste’s ashes, she felt like a dull-minded idiot whenever she opened her mouth around him.

His hand found hers on her side of the table, covering it and imparting a gentle squeeze.

“I’m… yes. Yes, I suppose I am.” she finally admitted, staring at his hand on hers, still unable to meet his eyes.

“So am I.” 

That did it. 

His thumb danced over her skin, sending welcome jolts of sensation up her arm. She dared to lift her gaze to find him regarding her with a look of understanding affection, his moustache quirked slightly, following the curve of his soft smile. “Does that put your mind somewhat at ease?” 

“Yes, actually,” she managed, her voice wavering slightly. “Thank you, Emmrich.” 

“Think nothing of it, darling.” He lifted her hand over the table and pressed his lips against the backs of her fingers. “Do try to enjoy yourself - tonight is only for us: there is no expectation, nor misplaced assumption… not on my part, at least.”

He was right: it wasn’t that he was telling her to pretend she was having a nice time for the benefit of his ego. He truly did want her to relax, loosen up, and just… be. 

“It’s been uh… quite awhile since I’ve spent time with someone like this. I think I’ve forgotten how.” Despite the self-deprecating statement she felt some of the tension in her shoulders release as Emmrich set her hand back down on the table, and she felt safe enough to laugh a little.

His own chuckle of amusement joined hers and he sat back and picked up his fork again. “I daresay I find myself in a similar predicament, dear Rook, but I can’t think of better company in which to reacquaint myself with such things.”

Maker’s breath he’s smooth…

They finished their salad and the remaining courses with much more ease, conversation flowing as effortlessly between them as it had since Amina started taking him up on his daily invitations to tea instead of diligently avoiding him as she had in those early days in the Lighthouse. 

They covered the standard array of dinner date conversation topics: favourite colours, exactly how long it had been since either of them had been in a relationship, and what attracted them to each other in the first place. It was predictable, typical fare that neither tread too far into the realms of disclosing any damning personal flaws, nor deflected enough to draw suspicion that the other was being deliberately obfuscating. 

Normally Amina loathed this brand of superficial small talk - it really didn’t tell one much about a person - nothing important, at any rate. But perhaps it was the Adirondack wine, heady and rich, curiously rife with something that could only be described as magic. Or it could have been the way she kept catching faint whiffs of his fresh, mossy cologne when he waved his hands through the air as he spoke, but as traditionally banal as the topics were, she found herself hanging onto his every word: watching the shape his mouth made as he enunciated certain vowels and consonants, savouring the charming lilt of his tone and how she could nearly pinpoint the exact place in his chest from which his voice resonated…

Then of course there was the food itself: a varied and inspired spread that incorporated an exotic bevy of ingredients that Amina knew to be aphrodisiac in nature: figs and pomegranates, saffron, and spicy peppers that were sweet on her tongue but left her lips tingling, blood-flushed, and tantalizingly swollen. 

There was no overlooking the sensual tone of the menu, each course arranged like art on the plate; each morsel designed to arouse and stimulate all five of the senses: it was a meal designed to impress - and to seduce: to make plain his desire for her in the form of an elegant, sophisticated proposition. 

Yet here they were, well into dessert (a sinful dark chocolate gateau that was decadent and rich, but didn’t leave her feeling overfull) still trading surface based small talk and polite compliments: they might as well have been at the annual Wintersend Ball put on for all the Watchers, surrounded by colleagues and apprentices.

It was frustrating to say the least: her arousal had made itself known over the course of the evening; blood rushing to her sex, engorging her as she shifted in her chair, bare upper thighs damp as Emmrich prattled on about flowers. 

Amina set her fork lengthways across her bare plate and dabbed at the corners of her lips with her napkin before neatly folding it and placing it atop the plate as well. “That was delicious.” 

Emmrich finished the last bite of his gateau as well and his fork hovered over his plate as his eyes locked on her mouth and he leaned forward, “You’ve got… there’s a bit of chocolate still–” he laughed - not the cruel, jeering laugh she imagined earlier, but one of charmed endearment - and tapped the left corner of his mouth, “-here.”

Amina probed her tongue around the corner in question, “There?”

It was Emmrich’s turn to look bashful, blushing slightly as he shook his head and lifted a hand towards her, pausing midway to ask, “May I?” She nodded and his thumb found the corner of her mouth, delicately sweeping up the chocolate in question. 

He had been about to draw back, pleased that the offending confectionary had been satisfactorily dealt with, but Amina - having spent months dancing around this man, and having officially tired of it as of this moment - caught his wrist and drew his thumb across her lower lip, parting her mouth just enough to lick the bittersweet smudge from his fingertip, smiling when his eyes widened slightly at her audacity as she gently dragged the pad of his thumb over her bottom teeth.

“So chivalrous,” she noted, a hush to her voice that could no longer be attributed to nerves.

He reddened further, swallowed, and managed to take his hand back, promptly scooping up the dregs of his wine as he retreated back to his side of the table. His other hand, Amina observed, had vanished under the table for a fleeting moment and was accompanied by a slight shifting in his seat that did absolutely nothing to quell her very active imagination. 

He was nervous, the fact made abundantly clear now that she was actively flirting with him instead of staying within the safe, unthreatening confines of civilized conversation that he was most comfortable in. 

He wanted to bed her. He wanted to take that next massive step forward in their relationship. Why else would he have used his sway to have the Gardens cordoned off for the night just for them? Why else would he have conceptualized a culinary experience so blatantly steeped in raw erotic overtones? She knew Emmrich well enough by now to know that he didn’t make oblivious mistakes when it came to romantic gestures.  

She was more than willing to partake in his flesh if he was keen on hers, so why the hesitance?

Clumsy silence reigned once more as a skeletal servant cleared away their dessert plates and placed a stemmed cordial glass filled with an opaque daffodil coloured liqueur in front of each of them.

Knowing full well what it was, Amina plucked the delicate glass from the table with fingers that were deceptively gentle despite the scarred, gnarled state of them. “What have we here?” She asked Emmrich as the servant shuffled away. 

“Antivan Limón - a vivacious digestif that rounds out a fine meal quite nicely.” He lifted his own between his thumb and forefinger, immediately appearing relieved to be talking about drinks again.

She sipped it, savouring the bright, tart flavour as it pirouetted over her taste buds like a crisp summer breeze: light and vivacious indeed. “Mmmm… it is lovely.” She lowered the glass but didn’t set it down, softly tapping her lacquered fingernails against the patterned crystal. She looked up at Emmrich and treated him to the same soft, kind smile he’d shown her earlier. “Forgive me if I come off as overly familiar, Emmrich, but I feel I must ask: are you nervous?”

The cordial glass wobbled in his hand at her words and he used the other to steady it before putting it down on the table where it would be safe.

“I suppose I am,” he admitted, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards at the familiarity of this conversation.

“So am I,” she quipped, and she leaned over the table to place a soft kiss on his heated cheek, then the quaint line of his smile, etched into his skin from so many years of the kindness and compassion that he gave so freely; then the corner of his mouth. Then she kissed him fully, her tongue feathering past her lips to taste the summery limón that clung to his. He parted for her and she slipped into his mouth, caressing his tongue with her own for only the barest moment before pulling away and sinking back down into her chair. “Does that put your mind somewhat at ease?”

“It does,” he breathed, looking bemused, evidently not yet trusting himself to pick up the cordial glass again. Instead, he studied her, his rich hazel eyes taking in every detail of her hair, her face, and her bare shoulders. “You look truly ravishing tonight, dear.”

Emboldened, Amina smoothed the front of the low cut satin blouse with one hand, pushing her shoulders back and her chest out. “You mentioned that when we met at the eluvian earlier, but I don’t mind hearing it again.” 

The wine. It had to be the wine. And now the limón which was considerably stronger was making its way through her bloodstream too, and perhaps she should stop now before she made a complete fool of herself, but…

“What do you think of my shoes? I bought them just for tonight.” She slammed her heels back down into the shoes in question and lifted her feet under the table, depositing them tidily into Emmrich’s lap, causing him to jump with such abruptness that the table shifted and the candles wobbled, “Sorry,” she demurred, reaching out to steady a candlestick to keep it from falling over.

He looked down at the shiny, midnight blue shoes in his lap, the pointed toes catching veilfire and wisplight, his mouth wonderfully agape.

“They’re… they’re lovely, dear…” He rasped, his hands disappearing from the surface of the table to softly caress the leather against his fingers, curling them around the sides of her feet and tracing the shape of the expensive shoes, finding the silken texture of her stockings as they wandered towards her ankles. Something changed in his expression then - like he’d woken up and come to his senses. She half expected him to shove her feet off of him and admonish her for her lack of decorum. Instead he looked up at her, his eyes burning with passion. “But they’re hurting you.”

“They’re not,” she lied, tossing back another sip of limón. 

“My valiant, stalwart Reaper,” he tutted. “You do our order credit with your devotion, don’t you?” His hands curved beneath her ankles and his thumbs hooked under the pitch of the shoes, popping them free from her soles. “You concealed your discomfort admirably until we were two thirds of our way through the Vault of The Beloved.”

She flicked her hair, maintaining nonchalance even though every one of his calculated touches filled her with a ravenous need for more - for all of him - as much as he would give her. “That’s ridiculous. This is hardly my first time wearing shoes in this style.”

“Oh I’ve seen you traipse around the Lighthouse in shoes like these often enough…” he murmured, his fingers and palms still roving over her feet and ankles tenderly. Had the candles just dimmed slightly? “...and I consider myself to be quite capable of discerning the difference between your comfortable stride, and your belaboured one: I am familiar with the finer points of anatomy.”

Oh. Well that was certainly a response. A response that was… dripping with entendre?

“Been watching me, have you, love?” Her eyebrow raised, her heart made itself comfortable somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. 

“I can’t help myself, you see, though I have tried to compose myself and observe you with the deference you deserve…” He tugged the shoes fully from her feet and set them on the ground next to him, enfolding her tiny, pedicured toes in his large, warm hands. “But try as I may, I see glimpses of you in nearly everything I perceive of late: your smile fades through beams of dusty sunlight; a verdant gaze regards me from every living thing in Harding’s greenhouse… I fear I am bewitched, darling Amina, yet the eye does not go wanting when it has the privilege of looking upon you. If I am indeed under your spell, it is surely the happiest curse in existence.” 

His thumbs curved into the balls of her feet, cradling her arch and working slow circles into the tense, cramped joints as she took in his words - played them over in her mind… lived in them.

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting him to say, but it… it wasn’t that. 

“Emmrich…” she sighed, taking another mouthful of limón and letting her head fall back. The stupid shoes were agony, but his fingers were rapidly undoing the damage they’d done.

“They are stunning shoes, for what it’s worth.” He gathered her right foot in both his hands and began languidly massaging, “But you needn’t sacrifice your comfort in an effort to impress - I assure you: you’ve already accomplished that.” 

Unable to help herself anymore at his words, her left foot dallied, stretched, and found what it was looking for - the growing bulge in his pants, pinned against his thigh. She curled her toes against it, marking the catch of Emmrich’s breath and the flutter of his eyelids as she felt him under her toes, her heart beating faster, mouth going dry, touching for the first time this aspect of his anatomy that she had so often fantasized about late at night in her room, her own fingers moving inside her as she fucked herself to climax imagining they were his hard, hot cock pounding into her instead. 

It was her favourite thing to think about recently.

“Is this alright?” She asked, watching his throat bob; watching his eyes glass over and then darken with lust.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice straining as he watched her continue rubbing her petite, stocking-clad foot against his hard, clothed cock under the table. “Oh… darling, yes…” 

Amina swallowed the last of her limón and set the glass on the table, tugging her right foot from Emmrich’s hand and softly caressing his cock with both feet now. “Don’t worry about me, Emmrich: I knew exactly what I was getting into when I selected those shoes.” 

His fingers clasped over her toes again and stroked her feet over his length, his hips arcing subtly into her soles. “I had rather been hoping we might get to know one another better tonight, but I must say: I didn’t anticipate dessert taking this turn,” he murmured, something even more sinful than the chocolate gateau dwelling in his smile.

“Would you like me to stop?” She meant it: she wanted him to enjoy himself, not feel uncomfortable.

“Of course not–”

She traced the shape of him with her flawless feet again, coaxing a soft hiss from him. 

“But we should–”

“- get out of here?” She finished for him. “Indulge in a nightcap back at the Lighthouse?” 

Neither of them were inexperienced in this arena: they both knew that ‘a nightcap’ consisted of Emmrich burying himself to the hilt between her legs, and both of them finally finding the release they craved after what felt like an eternity of yearning for one another. 

“That sounds like a marvelous idea, dear.” He nodded tightly, threw back his entire glass of limón in a single go, and slipped Amina’s shoes back on her feet before standing, the front of his pants visibly straining as he swept around to her side of the table and pulled her chair away from the table - gentlemanly even in his haste to leave this place. 

Amina rose to her feet with Emmrich’s hand and twined her fingers between his as he began to lead her from the table, snagging their coats from the nearby coat rack and draping them over his forearm, concealing his arousal from anyone they might might pass by on their route back to the eluvian. 

She managed not to limp the distance to the doors of the garden, and before they left the gardens behind, Amina halted and squeezed his hand. “Wait - before we go: this was beautiful,” she looked over her shoulder at the candlelit table, now empty. “It was the most thoughtful, heartfelt dinner anyone’s ever arranged for me, and…” she saw some of the urgency leave his face: his brows softened, his jaw relaxed. “Emmrich… I’m… I’m so glad I met you.” 

And she stood on her toes and curled her fingers around the back of his neck, bringing her lips to his in a bruising kiss that caused him to rock back half a step, throwing his free hand back to catch himself before they tumbled backwards into a hedge from the momentum. 

When he was sure he steadied himself, he leaned forward into the kiss, carding his fingers through her silky hair, returning her enthusiasm with a muffled groan as he licked into her mouth, tasting her lips and her tongue, feeling the smoothness of her teeth and the warm, wet heat of her. 

He pulled away, pupils blown wide, cradling her jaw in his hand as he looked down at her, a thin strand of saliva still connecting them both. “And I you, my sweet Amina,” he breathed. “I only regret that it took so long for us to find one another.” 

“Oh I fully intend on making up for lost time,” she purred, gently adjusting his treasured collar pin, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. “Don’t you worry about that.” Her fingers drifted from the pin to his jaw, feeling the realness of him against her flesh. “What I am concerned about is a matter of logistics: where, my handsome suitor, do you propose we enjoy our nightcap?”

Surely he had a bed. She’d never actually asked, but it would be lunacy for him to pack Manfred through the eluvian, back to the Necropolis and up the lift a few dozen levels to his apartment every night… wouldn’t it? There was no way he slept in his armchair or at his desk - not when she’d seen the slow, tentative way he’d unfold from a sitting position sometimes, and heard the brittle cracking of his poor knees as they straightened, worn ligaments and tendons protesting.

She was thirty-six and her knees weren’t in much better condition due to the physical demands of her vocation: she could sympathize, and for that reason, she knew if he didn’t have a bed, he most definitely would have made it everybody’s problem by now. 

Oh no, he had a bed, and tonight she was going to learn where in the damned Lighthouse it was, and then she was going to fuck him in it until he couldn’t think straight.

He shouldered the door open, and guided her over the threshold before him, taking care to close the heavy slate doors behind him before turning to her, his eyes glinting. “As it turns out, I do in fact have a bed, darling - did you assume I slept in the laboratory, standing upright like a horse?”

“Of course not: that would be silly.” 

“Tremendously,” he concurred, his moustache twitching with a wry smile the instant before he swept one arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees. 

“Hey–!” She warbled out, startled at this new development, and her feet left the ground as he scooped her up, cradling her to his chest, the coats still draped over his forearm.

“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you hobble the entire way back home, did you, dear?”

Home. He’d said home…

Amina knew her face was beetroot as she scrambled for words. “You - you could have just magically healed my feet!” She squirmed halfheartedly in his grip and he snorted in amusement, his breath washing over her face. 

“Now where would be the fun in that?” He teased, kissing her nose and setting off down the corridor through the cavernous vault. “But if you find it truly undignified, I’ll gladly set you down and take a moment to tend to your feet...” 

She glanced up at him. He was looking ahead to make sure he didn’t trip on anything and send them flying. The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw stood out against the dusty tomb light diffused throughout the vault, and he still looked well-pleased with himself as he strode onwards, not struggling at all with the task of hauling her bones around. 

“I suppose this isn’t so bad…” She leaned her head close to Emmrich’s neck and nuzzled into the expanse of exposed skin between his collar and his jawline, inhaling deeply, filling herself with the comforting scent of him. “My hero… whatever would I do without you?”

He crooked his neck against her ministrations, her breath tickling him - or arousing him - she was unsure which. “I’m hardly a hero, darling - just a gentlem—“

“Professor Volkarin!”

Oh dear.

She felt Emmrich go rigid under her and he turned to address whomever had called out to him: it was an apprentice mage - a young man, no older than nineteen with a shock of curly red hair and a pointy little beard growing from the very tip of his chin.

His eyes went from Emmrich to Amina, then back to Emmrich, widening the entire time.

“Oh - I - s-sorry Professor, I didn’t know you - uh - I know you’ve been… away… b-but I was w-wondering if you could help me understand a few things about uh… Ley lines and their relation to dowsing and other methods of cyclomancy. You see, I’m running into some difficulty wi–”

“Hamish.” Emmrich’s interjection wasn’t unkind, but there was a firmness in his tone that garnered respect and immediately shut Hamish up. “I have absolute faith that a young man of your intelligence doesn’t require a dowsing rod to divine the truth of the matter, which is that I am presently indisposed–”

Amina buried her face in Emmrich’s shoulder to conceal her grin and stifle the giggle that slipped past her lips. 

“— now be on your way and submit your questions to me in writing and I shall respond in due course when time permits. Now: good evening to you.” The farewell was delivered with curt finality that indicated the matter was not up for debate, and Amina peeked up from Emmrich’s shoulder to see Hamish soundlessly opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to come to terms with the abject horror of accidentally interrupting his professor during what was obviously a romantic evening. 

“Y-yes - of course! Good - good evening to you, Professor…” he bowed jerkily to Emmrich. “Lady.” He tipped his head further down and then turned and fled so quickly Amina thought he Fade-stepped away. Perhaps he had.

When she trusted the lad was out of earshot, Amina laughed properly, curling her fingers into the worn but lovingly kept material of Emmrich’s waistcoat. “I think poor Hamish thinks he’s ruined your chances with me and destroyed his career because of it.”

“Hmm…” Emmrich mused. “I suppose that depends: did young Hamish spoil the evening with his uncouth interruption?”

“Not even close.” She licked his neck - planted a wet, sucking kiss on the hot flesh there.

“Then he has nothing to fear,” he declared, tilting his head down and claiming Amina’s lips in one more deep kiss before setting off again towards the eluvian.

Towards home.

[nico-sees-dead-people]

*deeep breathe*

Dear Will I don’t even know why I’m doing this again. It’s not going to do anything. It’s just…. I miss you.

Aria doesn’t understand you don’t remember her. She keeps calling you daddy and you keep denying it. It breaks my heart little little more every time but you’re smart at me today at lunch. A real smile not your “I’m fine because I have to be trust me I’m a doctor” smile. I smiled back or at least I hope i did. I’m not very good at facial expressions. I’d say you know me but you don’t not really. Not anymore but you will I’ll make sure of it tomorrow. I’m going to make pasta my mum’s old recipe and I’ll tell you that and I’ll explain exactly how not to make it and you’ll learn a little more about me and I’ll pretend everything is normal and for awhile, maybe it will feel like it. And then I’ll ask your favourite colour I already know what it is but it’s always nice to see you smile and talk about things you like especially since you don’t remember telling me already it’ll be like the first time for you again. You’re smile is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen. And I think that maybe because you can still smile at me maybe we will end up okay in the end. And everything will work out just fine.

Right well, that’s enough emotion for today .

Love, nico

[in the morning]

*nico wakes before @dr-flipflops and sighs looking at him on the sofa so gently uses some shadows to move him into the bed, tucking him in and smoothing his hair back and scribbling a note reading “morning sleepyhead, here’s your reminder to drink some fucking water and eat more than a muffin and also to let your mother know that you have a cough or so help me hades solace ill do it myself, ill probably be gone when you read this because i have to pick aria up from sally’s but ill be back at somepoint because your mom made me promise, love you dont die see you soon” before whispering “love you” and leaving the room to speak to naomi*

nico: good morning mrs solace uhm.. sorry for intruding i didnt exactly plan to come it was more accidental shadowtravelling episode

naomi: nonsense, you know youre always welcome here, even after everythin’

nico (watery smile): yeah i know, how is he, will i mean, he doesnt seem.. happy

naomi: hes as well as he can be in this situation, he’d be doin’ better if he found it easier t’ let people in, if he let you properly communicate with him but… i also can’t blame him for his reaction

nico: neither can i, and i know i messed up, im trying to fix it i just- i don’t know how and.. *his voice breaks* i miss him and so does ari

naomi: *smiles gently at him* he does care about you nico, hes just hurtin’, he misses you too *she pulls him into a hug* it’ll be alright in the end

Nico: *fully crying now* thanks mrs solace

naomi: *pats him on the back softly* anytime sweetheart, now, you said you had somethin’ t’give me?

nico: ah, yes, *he pulls a thick bundle of letters out of his aviator jacket* its a collection of letters ive written to will throughout his amnesia, explaining.. well just about everything, when he says hes ready and wants to know then he can read all of them regardless if he wants to see me or not

naomi *smiling*: thats a lovely idea hon, very thoughtful of you, ill give them to him once you’ve gone back though, the topic is sensitive enough without…

nico *nodding*: without the added stress of my presence, i was just about to say that, besides i have to pick up aria from her aunt sally’s, she had a sleepover the past couple of nights

naomi: you should bring her, next time you come, i know will don’t remember but i do, an’ i miss my granddaughter

nico *smiling*: i will mrs solace dont worry, she misses you too, and thank you, for everything

naomi: dont thank me sweetheart its been my pleasure

*nico begins to wave goodbye before noticing will standing in the doorway*