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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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hiiii!! can i ask for a fic where reader (aka viscountess) is helping benedict with a lady he's falling in love with, but they're basically scheming and secretive and Anthony gets suspicious and a little jealous/upset? thanks!!!!!

Hello nonny! I've been going back and forth on posting this mostly because I don't feel like it's very good but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous!Anthony

Word Count: 1.1K

The day had dawned, and it seemed you had blinked the night away after a previously tedious day. Your duties as Viscountess had significantly grown since Lady Bridgerton had started to hand over most of the reigns of the house. With some spare time on your hands, you spent most of your day in the main hall amongst everyone as you poured yourself some tea before returning to your reading. With a hint of mystery in his eyes, Benedict strolled into the room and stood beside you, making himself busy with the book you had just put down on the tray.

"Viscountess now, is it?" He teased in a hushed tone to not alert the siblings of his untimely arrival. Benedict always had a way of easily slipping in and out of sight, with his mama distracted with his other sibling's endeavors.

"It would appear so." You offered him a warm smile while pouring some tea for yourself. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Benedict?" Although most may not understand your relationship with your new brother-in-law, this is how it has always been since your courtship with Anthony. How you managed to keep up flawlessly in between constant banter with his siblings was just one of the things Anthony loved most about you. And Benedict was no exception.

"It seems I find myself in need of your assistance." The unusual hesitance in his voice piqued your interest. Benedict was never one to shy away from a challenge, let alone hold his tongue. "There is a lady who I would like to…pursue."

"As in courting? The Benedict Bridgerton interested in seriously courting someone? Why I'd never thought I'd see the day." Your words dripped with sarcasm, but as you turned toward Benedict, it was clear this was no joke, making you reconsider your teasing, at least for now. "I apologize; I did not realize this was a serious matter." His eyes still trained on the tea before you. "If it is my assistance you require with the matter, I will help you."

"Really?" He leaned back, head up with a cocked brow.

"You are my brother now. And if this lady is as suitable of a match as you are implying, I will do everything in my power to assure your courtship to her."

"You care about me?" His teasing returned, making you resist the urge to roll your eyes toward him, but a smile crept up nonetheless.

"Of course, I care. We are family. Now, let's get to it before I regret this entire thing."

Anthony paced around his office, unable to focus on a single task all day. His desk was littered with papers needing attention, but all he could focus on was how odd you'd been acting as of late. Your presence was scarce around the house, although your duties were always tended to. Anthony missed having you as close by as he was accustomed to since your marriage. Of course, he caught glimpses of you throughout the day, but you always seemed to be scurrying off somewhere. He couldn't help but notice Benedict lingering nearby at every event he'd been to in the last couple of weeks, engaging you in conversation whenever he stepped away, even for a moment. Anthony knew he had no reason to be envious; you were his wife, and you loved each other dearly. But that didn't stop him from suppressing a surge of jealousy at the thought of you and Benedict spending so much time together. Impossible thoughts swirled through his mind, straying him further and further away from any rational thinking until his feet carried him faster than he could stop himself as he called the carriage.

The day was as warm as it was humid; the lush field was decorated with tents showcasing various vendors as the ton gathered. You had spent the better part of your time in the last couple of weeks preparing Benedict as much as possible, covering everything from appropriate topics of conversation to enticing the young woman to yearn for more interactions with him. It had been a challenging task. For every ounce of natural charm Benedict possessed, his soon-to-be lady seemed to be immune to it at every turn. Every challenge she presented seemed to draw Benedict closer. It was daunting, to say the least, but today would be the day. The garden party was the event of the social season, and you knew for a fact that she would make an appearance today. Benedict came up beside you, eyes set on her almost immediately. You glanced toward him, watching intently as his face softened, a smile deepening with every second he laid his eyes on her. Your heart warmed; whatever Benedict felt for this lady, you understood it was exactly what he had been searching for.

"Are you ready?" He snapped out of it and nodded toward you. "Go on then." Benedict readied himself, taking comfort in the fact that you would be nearby. But as soon as he stepped forward, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and move him back toward you.

"My dear brother," Anthony kept his tone hushed so as not to alarm any of the ton members standing nearby. "I will make haste so we may continue with the day's festivities. Care to clarify as to why you are spending so much of your time with my wife?" You and Benedict shared a look, holding back a laugh.

"I'd prefer not to; I'm rather entertained at the moment." Benedict crossed his arms before him, aiming his shit-eating grin at Anthony.

"Truly, Anthony, you could not make any more of a fool of yourself than you already are." You huffed as you turned toward your husband. "May I speak to you in private?" Anthony hesitated before he took your hand and walked you to an isolated part of the lake away from the chaos.

"If you must know, I was asked to help your brother pursue someone. I have been guiding him on proper conversation topics and ways to impress the young lady he has shown interest in. That is all. And if you are indeed insinuating there would be absolutely anything inappropriate happening between your brother and I then you truly do not know me at all."

"That is not what I thought-I-You were only spending so much time with Benedict, and I allowed my temper to best me; I only missed your company." His apologetic look had you softening under his gaze. "I apologize."

"Next time, simply ask before you allow your mind to run rampant with impossible thoughts, hm?" He nodded before taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Anthony lead you back toward the gathering to find Benedict wholly entranced in a rather enticing conversation with his lady.

"It seems like you did well, my love," Anthony whispered toward you, tapping your hand, which was now holding onto his arm. "Looks like my brother might find his match after all."

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emeritusemeritus · 10 months

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Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: {DH1} set during Bill and Fleur’s wedding. No mentions of War or Voldy.

Summary: Weddings always bring out the best in people, but you hadn’t expected it to bring out something else entirely within Fred.

Warnings: SMUT. P in v sex, oral sex both male and female receiving, Role-play, illusions to choking, Fred has a wife kink? Innocence kink. Strong cursing. Mentions that reader has curves and large breasts. Established relationship. Talk of marriage.

"Oh Molly you look beautiful," you say as you step into the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend's mum all dolled up ready for her eldest son's wedding. You had been upstairs getting ready with the bride and the rest of the bridesmaids, finishing your hair and makeup when you remembered that Fleur's fascinator was still in the box on the kitchen table.

The men had been tasked with setting up the marquee outside and had been essentially banished from the house as the women got ready, with strict warnings from Molly to not mess about, those warnings no doubt pointedly aimed at Fred and George.

"Oh thank you dear," she says blushing as she fusses with a piece of her hair, flustered by the compliment.

She was wearing a long green and turquoise patterned dress with flowing sleeves, a little satin waistband and a ruffled pattern on her right shoulder that resembled a flower. Her signature red hair had been curled with one section pinned back and decorated with a beautiful antique hair brooch and her makeup complimented her look perfectly.

"It's so nice to be all dressed up," she giggles as she waved her wand slightly, the plates of food on the counter becoming magically wrapped by a covering to keep the food fresh. You smile at her, nodding your head to agree as you spot the box from the table, choosing to spend a little time with Molly before retreating back upstairs.

"I wish it were you and Fred getting married today," she says with a sigh, looking out the window towards the Weasley men, and Harry, who are all trying to erect the tent. Your chest swells as you spot Fred looking so handsome in his suit, minus the blazer jacket, his golden waistcoat glimmering in the sun as he concentrates on the spot he's lifting with his wand.

"Molly," you playfully scold, knowing exactly what she meant by that. She gives you a little look where she pretends to be contrite for just a moment before scrunching her nose up and shrugging.

Fleur was not her first choice of daughter in law as she'd admitted to you more than once that she found her bossy and rude and had questioned the longevity of their relationship as she believed they were rushing into things, that the physical attraction between them was the most prominent reason why they were together.

Truthfully, you quite liked Fleur. She could be a little off handed with some of her comments, a little too quick to say what she thought rather than consider the effect of her words but you always thought it could be because of her having to mentally translate before speaking English. You couldn't deny that she had not made clever moves to try and impress Mr and Mrs Weasley and had inadvertently criticised their home, the family and Molly's favourite singer, Celestina Warbeck, all in the same sentence. If you hadn't been so protective of the Weasley family, you'd probably had actually found it impressive that she'd managed to offend nearly everyone in the household in less than two minutes.

You'd met during your sixth year at Hogwarts when the triwizard tournament had taken place and had become good friends with her and two of her Beauxton schoolmates Colette and Clemence, both of whom were also bridesmaids.

"I'm just saying," Molly says with a little knowing smirk. "I can't wait to have you as my daughter."

"Then you'll have to talk to your son," you quipped, casting one last look back outside to where the men were still trying to get the tent up straight, seeing even from afar that Fred's tongue had slipped out to rest in his bottom lip, something he did when he was concentrating hard.

"Believe me I will," she says with a smile, reaching out to pat your shoulder before walking over to the sink to busy herself.

You grab the box with Fleur's fascinator in and return back upstairs to finish getting the bride ready. Once Fleur was ready, you quickly changed into your bridesmaid's dress, each of you helping zip the others up before smoothing out your curled hair in front of the mirror.

The dress was a beautiful grey silk with a blue undertone that clung to every one of your curves, perfectly tailored to your body. Each dress was just slightly different but all had the same structure and little cape over the shoulders that was reminiscent of their Beauxbaton school uniform, a little ode to their magical roots.

"Fred will die when he sees you in that," Colette says as she appears behind you in the mirror, a smile tugging at her glossy lips as she looks at you. Her accent never failed to make you smile, hearing her try to pronounce 'Fred' in such a thick, French accent was always a little humorous to you.

"Oh hush," you say, casting one last glance at your body, smoothing out any lines in the silk.

You had to admit that you did feel incredibly sexy in the dress, though it was still modest in principle, it definitely showcased your features splendidly. Your breasts were considerably fuller than the other girls who all had slim figures and small breasts whereas you had a more hourglass figure that was openly showcased in the dress, something you knew Fred would enjoy greatly. You'd had to make adjustments to the cups of the dress multiple times in fittings as your breasts didn't fit in the same style as the others and so with a little ingenuity from the tailors, they'd adapted your dress to hold your chest a little better.

You checked the time and saw that there was still half an hour to go before the ceremony was due to begin and so you began to clear away the makeup and beauty stuff that littered the room.

Fleur's mother knocked on the door a little while later and you decided to leave them for a private moment, just Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother.

You passed Ginny as you walked down the stairs, seeing her eyebrows shoot up as she looked at you. Ginny had not been a bridesmaid, on account of her dislike for the bride. Bill hadn't been offended and truthfully neither had Fleur but you still felt a bit of guilt at being a bridesmaid at her own brothers wedding when she wasn't.

"Has Fred seen you yet?" She asks, walking in her dressing gown towards her room.

"No? Hello by the way," you replied, a little confused by her smirk but instead of replying she simply giggled and slipped through the door of her bedroom.

You hadn't expected to see anyone except Molly downstairs, knowing that the boys had been banished, but when you reached the kitchen it wasn't Molly that you saw leaning against the counter. Fred.

He was facing away from you, reading the paper from what you could see, his hip resting on the counter as he leaned down, looking devastatingly handsome, even from behind.

"What do you think?" You asked quietly, creeping into the kitchen. You didn't miss his little jump of surprise, which made you bite back a smile as he turned towards you, smirking already as it he was already planning a snarky reply.

The second he turned and saw you, his mouth opened on its own accord, jaw dropping, seeing him freeze as he openly gawked at you. You had to bite back a laugh at his reaction, seeing that it was even better than you'd hoped.

"I," he began to say before clearing his throat, his fingers doing an involuntary dance at his sides as his eyes take over you, before fixing his gaze to your breasts. "I think it's illegal to look hotter than the bride on her wedding day."

You laugh and watch as he seems to bounce back to usual, though his gaze linger a little longer on your curves before he reaches out to you. You place your hand in his and he pulls you gently towards him, delicately placing his arms around you as to not crease your dress.

"Ah, lipstick," you say, pulling away from him as he tries to kiss you, making him frown and pout at your denial of a kiss. "I promise you can mess it up after the ceremony." His eyes a little as he shoots a wicked smirk at you, his hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress, running his hands over the curve of your waist.

"You look so beautiful," he says, smiling down at you. Even with your heels, he still towers over you with his height.

"And you look very handsome," you replied, reaching up to push his hair back from his face as you smile at each other.

"Well don't you look nice," George says, interrupting your moment, walking in with his bandage wrapped tightly around his head.

You turn and smile at him as Fred grumbles under his breath for his twin ruining the moment.

"How are you feeling Georgie?" You ask, looking at him with concern, even though it had been nearly five days since he received the unfortunate curse, you were still worried about his pain levels and him in general.

"Stable enough to walk down the aisle with you," he winks, earning another grumble from Fred. He'd been overwhelmingly annoyed at not being able to walk with you down the aisle even though he was also a groomsman but Molly had insisted on the fact, knowing it was both tradition and superstition that unmarried couples should never walk down the aisle together. Fred had instead been paired with Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, whilst you were paired with George, a rather unfair deal he had stated.

"I better get back," you said, your gaze flickering to the stairs, knowing that you needed to get Fleur ready for the ceremony.

"I love you," Fred says, a surprisingly sentimental tone to his voice that made you pause, his hand now holding yours as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I love you more," you say teasingly, slowly pulling away from him as you climb the stairs once more to help the bride.

The ceremony was beautiful and the newlyweds looked utterly joyful and in love, with smiles all around. You could feel Fred's eyes on you at multiple times during the ceremony and each time without fail he would either wink at you or smile sarcastically sweetly, trying to break up the formality of the situation.

At the reception, you'd been carrying out your role as bridesmaid flawlessly, helping with gifts, chatting to guests and even helping Fleur go to the toilet in her elaborate, poofy dress. When you returned to the marquee, you could see Fred and Molly chatting in the corner and so you took a seat next to George at the table, resting your head on his shoulder as the early morning and demand of the day began catching up with you.

"Tired, maid of the bride?" George joked as he shifted down a little in his seat so that you would be able to rest your head on his shoulder without straining. You simply nodded in reply, closing your eyes for just a moment before opening them and looking around the room at everyone you loved, all of whom enjoying themselves.

"Mind if I steal my girl?" A familiar voice asks from behind you and you can't help but smile as you lift your head from George's shoulder and look up to find Fred with his hand outstretched, ready to steal you away. You place your hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor as a slow song begins to play.

"This is familiar, eh princess?" He smirks, taking your waist in his other hand as he pulls you close. "I thought nothing would ever top your Yule ball dress but you always manage to surprise me." You smile up at him and can't help but study his gorgeous features, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world in that moment. Memories of the Yule ball danced in your mind, Fred's long hair, your glittering dress and the fun you had that night making a smile erupt on your face.

"You know, when we get married I hope there's none of this crap," he says, looking around at the slightly overdone decorations, curtesy of Fleur's imagination and her father's wallet.

"When?" You asked, a little teasing smile tugging at your lips, "that's a little presumptuous don't you think Weasley?" He smirks, spinning you gently in his arms before pulling you back into his chest, holding you even closer.

"Princess I've been calling you my future wife since the moment we first met, ask George," he chuckles slightly, still rocking you in his arms. "There's no one else I would ever want to call my wife."

You smiled up at him and reached up to press a kiss to his lips in the middle of the dance floor, not caring once bit about the mass of people around you. He kisses you back immediately, also unfazed by the people around you as you sink completely into the moment, just the feel of Fred around you and the sound of the music in the background.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He says dreamily, his hand stroking the spot on your waist where it resides.

"Not in the last hour," you tease with a smile.

"Then I must apologise, a woman as beautiful as you deserves to be told constantly."

"I think you're drunk," you say with a blush at his words and he chuckles whilst shaking his head.

"Just in love," he replies giving you a look of utter adoration that takes your breath away.

You dance for a little while with Fred before George steals you away for a dance, then Bill and then Arthur. You laugh as Arthur twirls you around, seeing Fred doing the same to Ginny not too far away from you. You'd never felt more loved and included than you did in that moment, feeling like a Weasley already. Fred eventually steals you back from his dad as a more rambunctious song comes on and you dance wildly around the dance floor between both the twins, no longer caring about holding your composure or ruining your dress as you fling your arms about, jumping around with the younger guests.

You couldn't help but tease Fred as the night carries on, dancing a little more provocatively as the upbeat music continues, swinging your hips as you dance. You lightly grind against him acting as if it was an accident at first but he soon realises exactly what you're doing, his hands coming up to grip your hips hard as he stands behind you and leans down to talk in your ear so you'd hear him over the music.

"I know what you're doing princess," he says breathily in your ear, pressing his crotch tightly to your backside. Apparently your little deviant plan was working as you felt his semi-excited member pressed against you which made you smirk.

You soon around and Fred immediately places his arms around you, caging you into his body.

"Want to sneak away?" You said quietly with a little devilish smirk as you flirt with him, "you know, I won't be able to get out of this dress all by myself."

"Let's go princess," he says with a little smirk, patting your bum twice before taking your hand and leading you out of the tent back towards the house. You looked around you, checking that no one was watching but it all truthfulness you couldn't care less.

The house was still deserted when you entered, with all the other family members and guests still partying outside. Fred stopped at the base of the stairs as you began to bunch up the bottom of your dress to climb the mountain of stairs and suddenly lurched at you, picking you up bridal style earning a little surprised squeak from you and a chuckle from him.

He attempted to kiss you whilst you were in his arms and ascending the stairs but you quickly put an end to it, knowing that he'd most likely bang your head on one of the many wooden banisters or worse due to being distracted. As soon as you stepped through the door to his and George's room, he slammed the door shut with his leg, still carrying you as he went to throw you on the bed, briefly muttering a silencing charm before he turns his attention back to you. He wasted no time and crawled on top of you, pausing only briefly to take in the sight of you all dressed up and sprawled out on his bed before he captured you in a delicious kiss.

The kiss deepened immediately with Fred's tongue swiping at your lip, his hands already running over your curves, teasing both himself and you as he puts off touching you in the places you desperately want him to. His kisses begin to extend down your neck, towards your collarbones as you heave out a calming breath, already feeling wonderfully overwhelmed by the sensations. He kisses over your clothes breasts and a flick switches in you, needing to feel his lips everywhere without obstruction. He apparently feels exactly the same and begins fumbling at the little zipper on the side of the dress.

You untie the little cape and let that open wide, waiting for Fred to do the last little clasp which you knew he'd enjoy. You reach for his hand and pull it towards the little clasp in between your breasts which he opens in no time, watching as your naked breasts spill out of the dress, not having been able to wear a bra all day. He curses under his breath as he looks at your bare breasts and you take the time to slide the rest of the fabric down your torso so that you're left in just your lace panties.

"Godric you're beautiful," he says more to himself than anything as he looks over your body before his gaze flicks up to you and he smiles before diving it for another kiss. His hand that he isn't bearing weight on comes up to massage and toy with your breasts and you can't help but run your fingers through his hair, trying to get his mouth where you want it. He senses what you want and immediately begins feasting on your tits, licking and sucking as your sensitive nipples which had you gasping and writhing almost immediately.

You begin pulling as his collar, desperate to get him naked too as you push him, flipping him over so that he was lay flat on the bed. You crawl to straddle him and you don't miss the glimmer in his eyes as your almost naked body climbs over his, breasts swaying as you begin to suck at his neck, making him moan.

You pop open the buttons on his collar, pulling off his tie and open up each individual button, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin as you make your way down his torso, thankful that he'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat earlier in the night. You almost ripped the shirt off him as soon as the last button was done and you ran your fingers over his gorgeous chest and shoulders, running down his stomach until you reached his little happy trail.

You moved down on the bed so that you were face to face with his crotch and began opening the fastenings of his trousers, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers, the outline of his impressive length clearly visible. You placed a kiss to his cock through his underwear and heard him groan, knowing he was watching your every move.

You looked up at him and saw his intense gaze, making you smirk as you tugged at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, his excited length springing out and falling onto his lower belly as you tug away the underwear, discarding them across the room. The sight of him bare before you, his perfect cock already hard and leaking was enough to make your mouth water and you couldn't help but lean down and press a few fluttering kisses along his length, feeling it twitch against your lips in excitement.

Maintaining eye contact with Fred, you gave him your sexiest look and leant down further to take his cock into your mouth, licking all the way around the sensitive tip as you tasted him. He groaned and shoved his head back against the bed at the sensation as you took more and more of him into your mouth, running your tongue along the veined underside of his cock to extend his pleasure. As you began to bob slowly on his cock, you were rewarded with loud groans and curses of your name from Fred, his cock only hardening further in your mouth.

"Godric princess, your mouth is fucking perfect," he groans in bliss.

Your hand came up to support your ministrations as you began to pump the few inches you weren't sucking, running your hands over his balls and giving them a very gentle tug like he liked, all of which making him writhe and groan.

"Princess, get up here," he says, suddenly reaching his hand out for you. You kisses his tip one last time before crawling up his body, his hands immediately reaching for you as he pulls you into him, one hand cupping your jaw as he pulls you in for a sinful kiss.

"Merlin," he says, pulling away as he runs a hand over his face, "you have no idea what these little white panties are doing to me."

"Do they make me look innocent?" You ask with a little smile, kissing down his jaw, eliciting another breathy moan from Fred.

"Yeah, but it's like you're the bride, making me lose it picturing it being our wedding night," he admits, his hands gripping you tighter in his hold, one large hand cupping and massaging your bum covered by the white lace. Your eyes widen a little in surprise, though he doesn't see, as you take in his words.

"That get you going big boy?" You ask breathily in his ear, still nibbling at his jaw as your hands explore his chest, briefly catching his nipples as you roam. "Picturing me as your bride? You like the idea of fucking your new wife?" He curses and moans, hips surging at your words, answering your question.

"Fuck baby," he whines as your hand wraps around his cock and begins slowly pumping him, your thumb catching the beads of precum and rubbing it into his soft tip.

"Maybe you like the idea of ripping off my sweet, appropriate little wedding dress and seeing exactly what's underneath."

He moans louder than you remembering ever being as your speed increases, your words having an evident affect on him.

"Or is it that everyone would know how good you're fucking your new wife, that everyone would know that I belong to you?" His hips start to stutter and you know he won't last much longer, the mixture of your hand on his cock and the words in his ear almost too much for him as he nods along with you, whining and groaning.

"Mrs Fred Weasley does sound good don't you think?" You ask him with a little smug smile at how he curses, hands scrambling to touch your tits as you pump him. "Y/n Weasley, Fred's wife." He's so close you can almost taste it, knowing he's just need a little nudge with the game you were playing.

"You wanna pretend it's our wedding night? I'll let you do anything you want to me husband, let you fuck everything that's yours."

He moans loudly as his hips stutter, your hand working his quickly as your other hand cups his balls as he erupts, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and landing on his stomach as you pump him through his orgasm, not stopping until his body stops twitching. He's breathless as he comes down from his high, chest heaving as a look of bliss falls over his face.

"Merlin," he says, finally opening his eyes to look at you, seeing your wicked little smirk. "Fuck that was hot." You smile as you reach down to grab his shirt from the floor, wiping his pleasure from his abdomen before throwing it back down onto the floor.

"Now, I think it's time I looked after my bride don't you think?" He says with a wicked grin, hands already pawing at you as he cups your jaw, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping over your curves as he suddenly pushes you down onto the bed. His mouth wastes no time in pleasing you, immediately latching back into your breasts as he goes all out, grabbing, toying and sucking your breasts, never leaving the other one left out.

His fingers begin to drift down your body and tease your inner thighs as your legs part in anticipation, your arousal dripping from you at this point. When Fred's fingers finally slip between your legs and he feels the abundant wetness of your panties he curses again, latching onto your nipple and giving a harsh suck making you gasp.

"Mrs Weasley, so wet for me," he says with a smirk, slipping one finger inside your panties and into your waiting hole. You moan out at the sensation, feeling his thumb come up to toy with your aching clit and you can't help but roll your hips, unable to keep still as his fingers work you perfectly. "So good baby, so fucking perfect."

"Freddie," you keen as he adds a second finger, adjusting his angle so that he can press up against your gspot, making you writhe against him. The panties restrict his movements but it doesn't seem to faze him, working his magic on you.

He suddenly pulls his hand from you, making you whine but he quickly grabs and spins you on the bed so that you're on your hands and knees, his ability to manhandle you so effortlessly only furthering your arousal.

He moved to stand behind you, pulling you towards the edge of the bed as his fingers toy with the white lace panties you're still wearing. His hands hook into the waistband and you feel him rip off your panties, pulling them right down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. You gasp as the cool air hits your sensitive pussy lips and within seconds his mouth is on you, feasting deliciously on your dripping cunt.

"Freddie!" You moan, pushing your hips back as his tongue slips between your lips, lapping as your clit before slipping into your little hole. His entire face is pressed against your pussy and you can hardly contain your moans as you feel his mouth playing you like an instrument. His tongue circles your clit before he sucks on it in little bursts, making your hips writhe against his face. He alternates between sucking and licking, covering himself in your arousal before he suddenly pulls open your ass and really dives into your pussy, locking his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue circling the little bud.

"Fred!" You shout as you cum, hips rolling over his face as he laps at you over and over in just the right spot, letting you ride out your pleasure.

Your orgasm has done nothing to calm your arousal, if anything it's only spurred on a further need for Fred as you turn and drag him down onto the bed with you, kissing him feverishly as you feel the signs of his arousal renewed against your leg.

"Freddie, fuck your wife," you say, dragging a breathy moan and a curse from his lips as your hands reach out for him in anyway you can get him, hips raising up in desperation.

"I've got you sweetheart," he reassures you as he kisses you one last time before reaching down to kiss your nipples, hands lifting your legs, seeing you beautifully exposed before him. "My perfect girl, so fucking hot."

"Yeah you got a hot little wife Freddie?" You tease, knowing that your words would only fuel his fire.

"The fucking hottest," he growls, pumping his cock twice before positioning himself right at your entrance.

"Give it to me good Freddie, only you can fuck your wife so good like this."

He curses and grabs hold of his cock, tossing your legs into his shoulders as you feel him slowly sink into you, stretching you out as he gets deeper and deeper. You both moan in unison as he moves his hips, hitting all the right spots inside you before he begins to pick up his pace, big hands holding your thighs tightly. He watches as your breasts begin to bounce in time with his thrusts and you can't help but raise your arms up to grab hold of the metal headboard so you can get leverage to raise your hips in time with his, letting the last inch of his sink into you.

"Yeah you like that sweetheart? Your husband fucking you good? Fuck you are so tight," he says, eyes flicking between your breasts and watching his cock disappear into your pussy.

"So good Freddie," you moan out, arching your back as he pounds into you. "Only you can fuck me this good." You right hand slips off the bed frame and you start to circle your clit for a little extra pleasure until Fred notices and bats your hand away.

"Dirty girl, your husband not taking care of you good enough? Is my big cock not enough for you?" He teases.

You begin to whimper in reply, "no it is, so good baby."

He immediately pulls out of you and flips you over like it's nothing, pulling your hips up slightly before he slams back into you. He takes no prisoners with his thrusting as you feel his balls slapping against you, his left hand gripping your hip so hard it'll almost certainly leave a bruise. His right hand snakes around your hip abs begins toying with your clit deliciously and you can't help but rock your hips, your insides clenching around Fred's thick length as you cry out.

"Oh Freddie!" You cry out, feeling thoroughly fucked as he slams into you. "You're so deep!"

"Come on my little perfect wife, I want you to cum all over your husbands cock," he says, leaning down and changing the angle slightly so that he rubs against your gspot making a silent scream erupt from you. The hand that was holding your hip suddenly shifts and he wraps it around your throat as he fucks into you with abandon, his hips stuttering just enough that you know he's close. His hand doesn't squeeze nor put any pressure on but just feeling his long fingers wrapped around your throat whilst he plays with your clit and pounds into you is enough to send you hurling towards your end.

"Freddie Freddie Freddie!" You chant as you cum, nails clawing into the bedsheets as you feel the white hot pleasure erupt within you, your hips rolling back onto his cock as he pounds you even harder, no doubt feeling your walls squeezing him. He suddenly lets go of your throat and scrambles to grab hold of your hips as he slams his length into you once more and holds you tightly to him, buried entirely in you as he cums. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as he shoots his load as deep in you as he can, groaning and cursing behind you as your name falls from his lips.

After a few moments, he pulls out and watches as his cum begins to dribble out of you, cursing once again at the sight. You feel him shift and he presses a kiss to your back before carefully shifting you so that you were lying on the bed as he slips in next to you, instinctively reaching to pull you into his side.

You lean up and kiss him as his arms snake around you, one hand resting gently over your breast, thumb idly passing over your nipple.

"I love you so much sweetheart," he says, pulling off your lips but never really moving away as he kisses you again.

"I love you Freddie," you say, pouring as much love as you can into your words.

"Gonna marry you one day princess," he mumbles and you can suddenly hear the tiredness in his voice.

"If you're gonna fuck me like that again, I'd marry you right now," you said breathlessly, entwining your fingers with his.

He chuckles, squeezing your hand in his as his eyes close, "give me 10."

"I want to be your wife one day," you say quietly a few moments later, no longer teasing. You feel Fred's eyes open and he looks at you with a look you can't place.

"Sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than you being my wife, but stop talking about it before I get hard again."

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley smut

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tinyidle · 8 months

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Let Me Protect You - CSN

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: at a time of chaos, and with you being almost deathly afraid of the dark and what it can bring, you find comfort in your husband. he holds you, kisses you, and unfortunately gets an erection in his loose sweats...

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: san x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: historical fiction; angst; fluff if you can squint; smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: victorian au; married couple

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2 k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: marking, praise, mutual masturbation, slight overstimulation and edging (not on purpose), sideways position, breeding kink, b!gd!ck san kind of overwhelms reader, unprotected sex (they're married and consenting), aftercare implications, all fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature

𝘈/𝘕: previously i saw a man who said "women don't need to be protected ... we [men] need to stop attacking them." he has a point, but sometimes a woman craves to have a man 'protect' her from the things that she knows she can just put up with. she just wants to be dotted on sometimes. first submission to @wonderlandnet

the village was at war, it was commonplace by now. you knew very well that, when marrying a man who was born to be in battle, you were going to be a soldier's wife; yet you didn't care. it was either him or the arranged marriage your parents set you up with-- a bullet you're always thankful to have dodged.

despite the wars becoming very bloody, with your husband's team getting hit numerous times, san never seemed to get a scratch on him. he is his father's son, you thought as you'd watch the burly-slim-built man perform deadlifts behind your tent every afternoon. no wonder the king appointed him to be the head warrior of the team.

having grown up to hearing sounds of swords drawing, horses furiously neighing, men exclaiming before falling to the ground with a thud, and the hearty cheer of victory on your village's end, you were desensitized to anything and everything. well, almost everything.

every night you would be unfortunately forced to sleep by yourself in the head soldier's tent as san and his men patrolled the camp for any potential enemies. you had an oil lamp burning sweet incense along with melodies from your childhood to keep you company, so you didn't worry much. however, when rain or thunder would roar along the dead night sky, you'd scurry under your covers, very much disliking the loud sounds of nature.

after nearly thirty years of constant battle between the neighboring cities and squatter nations, the village king and the rival leaders signed a peace treaty, calling for no physical fights for up to one hundred years. this treaty was sealed in the thumbprint of their blood, making it a life oath for each affected city. once you heard the news, you were ecstatic. you missed your life back with family in the village, and, although you knew that you wouldn't be able to completely move back there as you and your husband have a house, you were just glad to be able to visit them more.

you and your husband quickly gathered your things and left the soon-to-be vacant camp to travel to the once-vacant house. when you got there and took a look around the area, you immediately went to working on reviving the currently dusty place. san, who was carrying most of the things, helped put them down wherever you said for them to go. once you cleaned and dusted and decorated the house, along with san restocking the food pantry and getting the cooking materials back in their place in their kitchen spots, you two were finally finished refurbishing the old place-- becoming almost brand new again.

with dinner being finished and the two of you talking about your future endeavors with civilization again, you decided to get ready for bed. being the ever-so-sweet gentleman he was taught to be, san held your hand and courted you to the freshly-scented room, the candlelight aiding to the dim ambiance of sleep that settled within yours and his minds.

when you took the first couple bath since your honeymoon, which consisted of san constantly praising you for being the best while washing your back and chest, you both got out and dried off before putting on your night clothes. sleeping on your side, your husband went right behind you, becoming the big spoon for you almost unintentionally. you just felt so warm, he honestly couldn't help himself. san then blew the candlelight out, making you a bit worried, but you thought nothing of it considering you no longer were going to need it.

and then it happened. thunder boomed out of nowhere, along with the sound of the trophy wolves san brought from battle barking furiously at the night. you tried not to jolt, you really did. but when the second booming of thunder came and went, along with the wolves changing their tune from barking to howling, you jerked out of san's slight grasp, finding retreat under the covers you previously washed.

san was awoken by your body leaving his, making him confused. he looked downwards to see if you were okay, and when he saw that you weren't, he asked, "what's wrong? are you scared?"

you did your best to calm yourself, shaking your head as your heart pounded heavily. "no, it's nothing. ill be fine if--" again another sound shook your core, except it was someone loudly shutting the lid of a huge trash bin outside as dogs were now barking and howling in tandem with their gray cousins.

your husband shook his head as he saw your trembling figure through the indent of the cotton, "dear, how long have you had the fear of loud noises?" san slowly traced his hands over the outline of your body before carefully pulling you from the covers and onto his arms, the sheet now covering you chest down instead of your entire self.

"i always hated loud noises at night, but especially from nature. i thought id be over it by now," you pushed your head onto san's neck, your hands finding purchase on his muscular chest as you struggled to breathe properly.

the man wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you impossibly close to him. for a guy who claims that im always so warm, he feels like a campfire right now, you thought, but had nothing in you to speak out your thoughts as another loud bang from a nearby neighbor racked your senses.

"shh, shh. it's okay, sannie's here," he calmed you down as he felt tears start to stream from down your face to his clavicle. "oh, baby, i wish i knew sooner how the dark's terror made you feel. i would have gotten a different house away from here." your husband rubbed his hands over your back, slowly but surely calming you as your feeling of worry and danger turned to warmth and peace, all thoughts molding into the man who had you in his embrace.

you stopped crying after some time, simply resting your head against san's shoulders and breathing soundly. turning over to sleep in your previous position, you felt something stiff. experimenting with your bottom, you shifted backward a bit before bending forwards, which was met with a not-so-subtle groan. wanting to further test the waters, a third deep breath from the man was taken as your butt nudged against the much-uncomfortable hard-on from san. as you repositioned yourself, your husband reached out to grasp your waist, stopping you from your bottom leaving his crotch area.

"baby, what are you doing?" when you refused to answer, san simply pushed himself towards your backside, making you gasp as you were suddenly surged forward from the slight force of his movement, biting your lip as you remembered exactly who you were married to. "don't make me repeat myself."

not wanting to make him upset, you answered quite timidly, despite your previous confident actions, "i just wanted to play with you, that's all."

san hummed, chuckling a bit at your reply. "okay," he said, one of his hands pulling your night dress up to your waist. before you could think about it, san slithered his hand onto your clad cunt, cupping it with a gentle force that made you gasp. he always had a way of taking your breath away, flustering you befor you'd know it. "is it alright if i play with you?"

you mumbled the words 'yes' in-between heavy breaths, all thoughts now melting into the warmth that resided between your thighs as san began rubbing your wetness through your undergarments. "you're so wet for me, yet all i did was do what you did to me," san quipped. "i guess its only fair for how hard you made me." he continued moving his hand on your covered clit in circles, causing you to whimper lightly as the fabric became more sticky against your folds. "take your panties off," he commanded. you removed your underwear, tossing them to the floor as best as you could without leaving your spot on the bed. you felt your husband shuffle behind you until his hardened length met way to your thigh in all its bare glory.

turning around, you stopped san from doing anything more. when he pulled his head up to ask what the problem was, you asked with a small smile on your face, "can i help you out a little more while you help me?" without saying a word, san guided your hand to his length as his other hand went back to its previous place on your core. this only caused your smile to grow bigger. as soon as you started stroking him, which caused his member to become harder and bigger than it already was, san let out a guttural moan.

"gosh, you're so good," san grunted, pushing his hips slightly closer to you as his fingers now pressed inside you, curling his fingers to your spot. your mouth dropped open as you tried your best to concentrate on pleasuring him.

in no time at all, you could tell the man was getting even hornier as you began to climax from his motions. pausing for a moment to catch your breath, you grabbed san by the neck and passionately kissed him. he could only groan in your mouth as your walls furiously clenched on his fingers still inside of you as you were smearing his precum around his now burning head.

pulling away from you completely, your husband turned you around to how you were before, your bottom stuck out for his viewing pleasure. you whined from the loss as san your side for a while, tracing your body line down to the curve of your hip before slotting his hand between your thigh, slightly raising it. "ready?"

you smiled, nodding your head quickly as you stared at the soft linen of the matress.

smiling from behind you, yet you could feel it, san held himself to your slightly pulsating hole and slowly pushed his head in. you slightly jolted, but relaxed as you heard san's small praises of how fortunate he was to have you and how well you were taking so little of him. using the hand he was using earlier to push the start of him in, he then gripped the side of your ass before slowly thrusting the rest of himself in. you were whimpering from the tremendous stretch, his fingers seeming to not prepare for what you haven't had since he was called to serve.

wrapping his arms around you again, san wiped away the stray tears-- wait, you were crying?-- he knows you were shedding. "i know, i know dear." he soothed you, helping you to untense for both you and his sakes. you because you were obviously overwhelmed from the size of your husband, and san because your tightness almost made him orgasm like a prepubescent teen. getting himself together for you, san held onto you sides as he did his best to pepper kisses on your face. "let me love you, now." when you finally started to, you sighed in content as you pulled his hand up to kiss.

"thank you, sannie."

kissing your cheek in return, he held his place inside you and slowly began to pump into you; just the amount of speed needed to calm downyour shaking. your sighing from discomfort soon turned to moaning from pleasure. feeling the bliss of your husband's length in you, you jutted your hips back more, allowing the view of your ass be a signal that you were definitely feeling good right now. feeling encouraged, san sped up, driving himself deeper into you. his fingers dug into your inner thigh as his motions grew rougher and more passionate.

"fuck, sannie. im about to cum," you breathed out, feeling so close yet so far to your release.

putting his freer hand to your clit, he rubbed it in circular motions, high pitch whines coming out of you in return. "cum for me, my love. make a big, filthy mess on my cock. can't wait to always have you like this until you can barely think without having my cum in you."

your moans grew louder as your thoughts began to change to ones of having your stomach filled to the brim of san's love.

with one harsh thrust into you, your release hit your core, a splattering sensation running down your leg as he kept fucking into you. despite becoming quickly overstimulated, you didn't dare stop san from using you to his completion. "please, sannie," you cried, doing the best you can to get him closer through clenching. "please cum inside me. i need it to feel warm."

the image of his imprint leaking out of you flashed through his mind, quickly causing him to snap. with a tight squeeze at his enlarged length, he let out a grunt before he unloaded his seed into you, moaning in pleasure and relief as he did so. his thrusts grew shorter as he came less and less, holding onto you and kissing all over the parts of your face and neck he could reach. "i hope that wasn't too... intense for you," he apologized once his heart rate settled down.

you turned your head to san before slowly pulling yourself out of him with a hiss, looking at him as your hole pulsed in an attempt to return to its previous size. "'too intense?'" you quoted him. "why would it be?" your hand was gently touching your husband's face as he kissed it anytime it reached his lips. "it felt amazing." san, feeling assured by your words, leaned in to give you a tender kiss on the lips.

"im happy that you feel safe with me," san yawned after hesitantly pulling back, stretching before wrapping his arms around your waist as your aftershocks were coming down to an end. "i love you."

smiling at him and kissing his lips once more, you replied back to him. "i love you, and im always safe with you."

this is my first san fic. crazy right? and it only took one dance performance to awaken something in me. oh, the photo in the middle with the moon? i took that picture two weeks ago after getting off work.

#ateez smut #san smut #wonderlandnet

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

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Bubbles at the Fair

(Tommy Shelby x daughter reader)

Summary- What should have been a peaceful family fair trip still has that hint of Shelby Chaos..... John learns what happens giving Katie to the wrong man, Arthur tries to explain how Infants get fed, and Tommy leaves with a mouth tasting like soap. But hey, Y/N and Finn won't stop talking about the fun they've had.....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No it's as trigger warnings for this one really. There are mentions of an arranged marriage and we actually learn more about Tommy and Marie's relationship in the beginning and it's a bit angstyish, but the rest is mostly fluff! Oh and in one part Y/N does have to wash her mouth with soap but she's not being punished, I promise! Also remember this is prewar Tommy, so he's probably different (happier) than he usually is in cannon especially since he's with his daughter! Enjoy ❤️based off a real story ❤️

WC- 5.6K

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

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Birmingham 1912

Thomas Shelby held tightly to the rope he'd tied to his four year old daughter's pants.

Well, technically they were her uncle's pants, but none of her dresses had any loops and Tommy didn't want to lose her. The bouncy child had a habit of shooting off these days, ever since she'd learn to run, she'd see something that excited her and go directly for it. It didn't matter who else was in the way. There had been many a talk between father and daughter about not just taking off in a heavy crowd and the young girl seemed to understand. But Tommy was still a bit worried. Especially since there were so many people around now.

The sky was clear and the air was cool as it shown down on the edges of the land. It was almost June and the schools had just gotten out.

Not only that, but the fair had come to town.

Dozens of children and their families flocked to the usually empty plot of land, now decorated with small colorful tents and circus acts promising amazing excitements.

And the Shelby Family was no different.

All of them had decided to close the shop early for the day and visit the fun that seemed to have drawn everyone in the city to its colorful signs and entertaining games. Even Marie was in a good mood and decided to come along, chatting quietly with Martha who was carrying newborn Katie.

Lately, Tommy had noticed his wife had seemed to be come less content with the cards dealt to her. And while he still couldn't say he loved her (nor that she loved him) they'd seemed to find some sort of friendship for the in between, if only because of their daughter. And truthfully he couldn't blame her. It had been a one night stand that had turned into a shotgun marriage once her aunt and uncle found out why she was getting sick every morning. Originally from America, her aunt and uncle had made her stay with Tommy even after the baby was born. And while in the beginning she hadn't minded, their short lived lust still in full run, the thrill seemed to be over for her. Tommy knew Marie had begun to felt trapped by the result of that one night. And while he sympathized for her feeling the same way at time, he didn't like how her feelings lead her to treat their daughter. Everyone could see that Maria had begun to draw away from her daughter and resent the young girl almost. In the beginning she had seemed to fawn over the child just as much as her husband had, but when Y/N began to grow and cling to her father more, Maria slowly stepped back. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter. She did, but as the years past it got harder for her to ignore what her life could have been if she hadn't met Tommy that night. It was as if Y/N had become a reminder of where Marie's life could have gone and why she was stuck where she was. In a small, overcrowded house, surrounded by dirt and grime where few ever left. It certainly wasn't the life she'd planned when she came over to stay with her Aunt and Uncle for the summer, and her heart was beginning to feel more and more of its toll. She'd still let Y/N talk to her and grab her hand on the sidewalk when going to the park, but her responses had become shorter and park trips became less frequent. And the worst part about it was that little Y/N didn't seem to notice how her mother didn't smile as brightly at her drawings anymore. She didn't notice how her mother was always to busy too play tea party. She didn't notice how often her mother's side was empty, the nights she'd snuck into her parents bed. Y/N didn't notice her mother's hardening heart, but everyone else did.

Nevertheless, there were some days, like today, when Marie's heart warmed again, and she'd join the family on their outages, conversing with Polly or telling Arthur off for letting Y/N yell to loud. Those days were Y/N's favorites when both her parents were around and she was able to grab both their hands as they walked down the streets, chattering away about what she'd done with Finn. Sure, she could do that perfectly fine with her Father and Lizzie when they'd meet at the park. But for the four year old girl, there was just something special about being able to be near both of her parents, especially during the day when everyone was awake. After all, they were her parents. They were suppose to be the ones who loved her most right? So why shouldn't being around them be her favorite thing? The young girl loved nothing more than being around her family, even if it was only for a meal.

"Look Y/N there's a bear!"

Y/N squealed, turning to hug the speaking Finn as they both shook with excitement when the family passed under the colorful entrance sign. It was no surprise how close the pair was. Finn and Y/N might as well have been conjoined twins with how often they were together. Only separated by a couple months, the two had spent practically every moment together since Y/N was born. They even shared the same sleeping space as babies in the small room with Tommy and Marie. In fact, they were raised so closely Finn still had a habit of calling Tommy "Daddy" or "Da" often like Y/N did. After all, it was only natural he learn that since it's what everyone called Tommy when Y/N was around, seeing as he didn't want his daughter calling him by his name. And since Finn was always with Y/N he'd picked up on it too. Where Y/N went, Finn went, and where Finn caused trouble, Y/N was sure to follow. Almost always together, and always smiling with each other, the pair of four year olds were the light of the Shelby Family. And everyone was sure that in a few years, when Katie could walk, she'd be causing trouble right along with them. At his niece's joy, The four year old boy beamed, just as excited and he hugged onto his best friend. Finn didn't have a rope tied to his pants. Everyone knew he was less likely to run off and besides, there wasn't need for two ropes when Y/N was always holding on tightly to her Uncle some how. Be it the hand or shirt, Finn and her always had a grip on each other in some way when out in the streets. It was as if they weren't afraid of anything more than losing their other half.

"I see Finn! Daddy look! There's a bear! Ohh and there's a duck.... and there's a clown and there's that man eating fire and.. and... ahh there's so much..... Daddy it's loud."

Though she had been excited when she first saw everything, the crowd and the chaos immediately became a bit much for the young girl. Overwhelmed, she dropped her uncle's hand and stepped back until she ran into her father's legs. Still facing forward, eyes darting back and forth at the loud people and sights before her, Y/N reached behind her and tried to grab the fabric of her father's pants. She liked the fair and was still excited, but the sudden abundance of possible opportunities before her startled her a bit. She had no clue where to begin. It was a bit much.

Looking down, Tommy saw the look on Y/N face and knew she was at a bit of a loss. Reaching down, he began to run his fingers through her hair. But before he could bend down on one knee to speak to her, Finn had crashed into her, wrapping her in another hug that consisted of her, him, and the lower part of Tommy's legs. Unable to bend down Tommy could barely hear what Finn whispered to Y/N when he released the hug and grabbed her face forcing her look at him. Her cheeks were squished between his hands as he spoke with a determined look on his face. His best friend was nervous and Finn would do anything to fix that.

"Y/N. Hi Y/N! Look at me. It's Finn. Look at me."

Cheeks still squished between small hands, Y/N stared uncertainly at her favorite uncle before answering.

"...hi finn. It's kinda loud."

"Yeah but it's ok. It's ok. It's just noise."

"Just noise?"

"Yeah, like Pol bangs pans in the kitchen or Ada yells at Johnny for stealing her pillow. Or when Da says naughty words if he hits his hand on the door? Only noise. Like when Artie snores so loud Ada tries covering his head with a pillow so he can't make it any more."

Y/N smiled at her uncle's words, laughing quietly at the image of her aunt smothering her oldest uncle with a pillow.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Y/N smiled again and hugged her uncle closer for a minute more. The adults all watched in with small grins on their faces.

Then not moments later, the pair of children began to rock. Gently at first, nudging the other back and forth before, still clinging tightly to each other. Then their giggles began to grow and soon the children were twirling around in fast circles, trying to see who would fall first. It ended when they both tripped over Arthur's left foot and landed in a heap in the ground. Finn and Y/N stared at the others for a moment, blankly, before bursting into giggles again.

"All right twiddle de and twiddle dum. Ready to have some fun," Arthur chuckled as he dragged both children to their feet. Grinning eagerly at the eldest Shelby man, they both nodded.

"YESSSSS!"

"Alrighty then. Let's get to it!"

Grabbing each child in one arm, Arthur lifted them on to opposite arms and ran farther into the crowd, Y/N and Finn squealing as he speed up. The rest of the family laughed as they watched him run. John slid up by Tommy, Katie now snuggled in her father's arms as the women broke off to enjoy some time of their own without any scheming children.

"Which one do you think he's gonna drop first?"

Tommy looked a John with a raised eyebrow, his sticking arms out for his two month old niece. Adjusting the baby in his arms, Tommy was surprised at how even now, she was bigger than Y/N had been at three months. But then again, Y/N had been a month early. And Katie obviously got John's baby genes, weighing more than Finn and Y/N had combined. She was a squishy little thing full of baby rolls, burps, and love. Y/N had been so excited when she first met her cousin, eagerly stating that it was the cutest potato she'd ever seen. Martha nearly peed herself laughing when she heard, while John stood by the couch, mouth open in shock at the three (almost four) year old's audacity. From the pillow she was laying on in the her cousin's lap, two day old Katie had only stared wide eyed at the girl, while Finn dared squeeze her cheeks curiously. Now two months old, Katie made a sweet cooing sound from her uncle's arms as he tickled her belly slightly. Tommy smiled at her, before looking at John....his smile dropping. John realised it was a mistake to let Katie go. She was his only protection. With one arm, Tommy childishly shoved his brother back a few steps in retaliation, causing Katie to coo again as her Uncle laughed.

"Your Daddy's being silly isn't he Katie Kat?"

Rolling his eyes, but still chuckling himself, John stepped back towards Tommy, reaching his arms out for his daughter again.

"Ha ha, very funny, steal a man's baby and shove him while he's distracted by her singing huh? What kinda of example is that, ya shit uncle?"

Tommy only grinned at his brother and held the baby out of her father's reach. It was the same way John had done it when Y/N was this age. Now Tommy was finally able to get his retaliation. Thank you Martha for falling for his stupid brother's stupider pick up lines...

"It's a good one John Boy. Teaches her never to give up her greatest protection. If you hadn't given her to me, you wouldn't have that shit colored mud stain on your ass now. I bet Martha will find that real attractive won't she?"

Eyes wide, John spun in circles looking for the offending mark.... Only to find nothing as his brother started laughing again.

"Oh fuck you Tommy, I fucking outta-"

"What shove me? You wouldn't shove a man with a baby in his arms now would yah John boy?," Tommy grinned smugly, in the way only a big brother could. Holding up Katie and squishing her cheeks lightly he continued, "I mean you wouldn't want to knock this squishy potato now would you?"

Katie giggled and reached out her arms for her father, as she was bounced in her uncle's arms. Huffing, John rolled his eyes and stepped up to Tommy. Then as hard as he dared with his daughter's safety in mind.... John poked Tommy's shoulder aggressively as one could.

"You're a right ass you know that."

"Ada reminds me every day John Boy."

"Oi! Are you two ladies done making faces or are we gonna play some fucking...shit don't say that word tinys...or that one....Are you gonna play with us?"

Arthur had called over to his brothers from the bench he now sat on as Y/N and Finn crawled all over him. The first time he'd cursed, Arthur had remembered he wasn't suppose too around the kids, grabbed their heads and shoved them against his chest, one hand over each to muffle any more possible "naughty words" they might have heard. In protest at being restrained, Y/N and Finn struggled back to free themselves of Arthur's grasp, laughing as he playfully battered their attacks off.

"Yeah alright, just as soon as Tommy gives me my kid back."

"I was just trying to teach her a good lesson John. Ya know. Good uncle shit and all that." Tommy shrugged his shoulders and finally relinquished his niece.

Hearing mentions of her cousin, Y/N scrambled off of Arthur and over to John where she grabbed his knee in hopes he'd kneel down. He did, and soon Katie was laughing again while her cousin poked her belly the same way Y/N's father had only moments before. She talked eagerly to the baby who didn't understand a word being said.

"Are ya having fun Katie Kat? Are we gonna play some fair games?"

Katie just cooed (it was practically all she could do) and grabbed on to her cousin's finger. Tommy smiled down at his daughter and noticed something. There was a faint rim of chocolate around her mouth, and already he could tell the girl was bouncing more than usual. Looking over to the bench, Finn displayed the same traits.

"ARTHUR!? Did you already give them ice cream?"

Looking anywhere but his brother, Arthur stood up, swooping Finn onto his shoulder and started heading towards the games again.

"Ohh would you look at that! A line's forming! We better get there quick before it's too long shouldn't we Finny?"

Rolling his eyes at Arthur's antics, Tommy smirked and swooped Y/N up on his own shoulders. As long as John, well technically Katie, was besides her, Y/N would have no problem being carried. Especially if it was on her father's shoulders where she could see everything.

"Right then sweetheart, ready to beat Artie and Finny at darts?"

"Yeah!!! DARTS!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been an hour since the family had arrived at the fair and everything was going great. Tommy, John, and Arthur had all won a handful of prizes from a shooting game, as Finn, Katie, and Y/N cheered them on, clapping. Well, Katie clapped and cheered. Finn and Y/N just cheered, while taking turns with one another holding Katie as the other covered her ears from the shots. Luckily it was only pellet gun so it still didn't make too much noise. Against common sense and their promise to Polly, the older men had also given Y/N and Finn the chance to shoot the small pellet guns at the paper targets. Sitting in Arthur's lap, each child had been given the chance to pull the trigger while the older man aimed the pellet gun. The whole time Tommy was also telling them all the important parts of the gun and how to safely use it. Sure they'd definitely get chewed out for it later when Polly learned, but it was still fun to watch the children's faces light up as "they" hit the target like the older men they adored.

In addition to the shooting game, they'd also played a game involving rolling a bowling ball over a hill. This one was more fun for the kids, but Arthur's leg had ended up being a step stool for Y/N and Finn to stand on as they rolled the balls. After that the group stopped for another ice cream break. They bought three ice creams and split it between the five of them. Y/N wanted to feed Katie a small bit off her finger, but then Arthur ended up explaining why she was too young to eat any of it herself.

Why was Arthur the one to do it? Because John himself didn't know why, actually curious to try, and Tommy had run Finn to the bathroom. And so the slightly blushing man fumbled through explaining where her two month old cousin's food came from, hopefully in a way that wouldn't get Arthur hit by his brother, for his description of his sister in law if he accidentally brought up too many barn animals. Martha would kill him for doing that, and then Polly would start.

"Well Y/N, Katie doesn't eat like the rest of us. She doesn't got any teeth."

"Why? Did she loose them? I can help her find them if she wants."

"No, she didn't lose them they haven't come in yet. See, right now Katie gets her food from Martha."

"Oh because Martha makes her and John food at night. But John doesn't just eat Martha's food does he?"

"Well, actually Y/N, the stuff Martha makes isn't too ba... gaaaahh!" John opened his mouth, about to announce something that would absolutely get him wacked for saying to a four year old, but Arthur's foot on his heal stopped him.

"Ignore him tiny, the icecream has shot to his brain."

"Oh no! Does his eye hurt?"

"What?"

Y/N rocked on her feet as she stood on the bench to feel John's right eye.

"Sometimes when I eat icecream too fast it makes my eye hurt, and I go MY EYE! MY EYE!" She responded, holding her own eye for dramatic effect.

"What the fuck did you do to my kid?"

Appearing from the crowd again with not only Finn, but the women of the family, Tommy had arrived just in time to see his precious daughter grab her eye, call out for it, and fall into Arthur's lap. Seeing Finn return again, Y/N bounced up, and ran to him.

"FINNY! Guess what! Artie is telling me how Katie eats!"

Immediately, all heads shot to Arthur who seemed to shrink in his seat, aware that with the women around he'd have to tread more carefully.

"Yeah. Right. So it's like... well she doesn't have any teeth so she can't eat hard food like you or me right."

"Yeah! Artie said that she can only eat Martha's food! And Johnny said he likes it a lot too!"

Ada hid her face in Tommy's shoulder to muffle the laughter coming from her mouth, while Marie didn't even bother hiding her smirk as she supported Martha who was almost bent over laughing. Eighteen year old John looked anywhere but his Aunt's eyes.

"That's not true."

"Yes it it."

"Not it's not"

"YES IT IS!" Y/N stomped her foot glaring at her Uncle, not liking being called a liar.

"Fine!" John quickly relented, not wanting to start a yelling match he knew he'd loose. Y/N nodded her head before looking for Arthur to continue. Arthur just sputtered for a moment, not really sure how to continue or why he was the one answering. Aside from Finn, Arthur was probably the last one who should be answering this question. He was the least equipped, having no kids or tools of his own.

"Well....right. She only eats food from Martha. And Martha kinda...in a way... makes it for her."

"Ohh like a recipe. Does she get the stuff from the store like when Polly goes to buy bread?"

Arthur's face was a red as Katie's dress now.

"No no... ya see Y/N... she doesn't get it from the store, she just kinda...." Arthur gestured vaguely in the direction of the still laughing Martha's chest hoping that would've be enough to quell the girl's questions... It wasn't.

"That's Martha, Artie. Correct. You still haven't said where she gets the food from."

Arthur just groaned, wondering who he'd pissed off upstairs to deserve such humiliation. Y/N only smiled innocently, eager to hear her Uncle's words..... But Arthur gave up.

"Ya know what, why don't you ask her because I ain't telling ya. She's the one who makes it yeah? So she's the one who knows it best."

"OK!"

Skipping over to Martha, Y/N motioned for the eighteen year old girl to lean down so she could whisper in her ear, as if they hadn't been having the conversation in public only moments ago. Obliging, Martha bent down. It only took a few minutes for Martha to whisper in Y/N's ear before the four year old pulled back and looking wide eyed and pointing to Martha's chest.

"There?"

"Yep. It's pretty normal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like a bottle. Your mum probably did it too when you were a baby."

"Really?!" Y/N looked at her mother who just nodded in confirmation.

"You can... you can like have snacks wherever you go!"

The adults laughter at the child's innocent idea while, Arthur was just glad he didn't have to talk any more.

"But wait? Why did Uncle John say he...."

"Moving on!" Tommy put a hand over his daughter's mouth to keep her from opening that can of worms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright! I think we have time for one last game and then we have to go home alright?"

Y/N and Finn looked decisively at the booths around them, trying to decide what game to play. They'd gone around to most of the games already, but there were some they hadn't played yet. Over by the edge of the tents, Y/N noticed a small green one that seemed to have a pool of some sort underneath. Hoping there was maybe a fish she could see, she nudged to Finn and pointed over in that direction.

"Wanna do that one? It's got a tub so maybe we can get a fish! But you can't lick it this time ok."

Finn's eyes widened with excitement at the thought of a pet, while every adult present internally hoped it wouldn't be true.

"Ok! If we gets fish can we name him Jethro?"

"....I like that name, sure!"

Running over to the tent, the rest of the family followed, confused to where Finn had heard such a name. Though when they reached the tent, much to Y/N and Finn's disappointment, the tub wasn't filled with live fishy friends, nevertheless they were still excited to play. The tub was instead filled with toy rubber ducks. Tommy knew this game. It was incredibly simple, only requiring the user to pick up a duck with their hands and see what size prize they'd won. A easy game, it couldn't be any harder to get wrong, which is why it seemed perfect for the last game of the day. With something so simple it couldn't go wrong. The man running the game stood up and walked over to the group.

"Fancy a play? Everyone's a winner at the duck pond!"

"We wanna play! We wanna play!" Y/N and Finn cheered eagerly while Tommy handed over the money for each kid to play a round.

"Alright you know how to play? You get duck from the pond and whatever shape is on the bottom is the prize you get, understand?"

"Yes! Me and Finny played a game like this with our Aunt Ada once!" Y/N explained to the stranger, eager to start. She remembered having so much fun with it last autumn.

"Ok then. Start whenever you're ready."

Grinning at each-other and then their family behind them, Y/N and Finn faced the tub while Arthur gave a count down.

"Ready..... Set............GO!"

Finn immediately stuck his arm into the water and picked up a duck.

Y/N stuck her head in.

Somewhat horrified Tommy jumped for his daughter, intending to pull her head out, only now noticing how dirty the water was with its sickly green tint. John and Polly immediately started laughing, while Ada and Marie just stood in shock. Martha put her hand over mouth while Katie just gurgled happily at the water splashing her. Arthur gagged and pulled Finn back from the tub, who looked like he was about to do the same thing. Not that Y/N noticed of course. Her head was underwater.

Tommy had only just touched his daughter's shoulder when her head popped back up out of the water. She turned around dripping wet and proudly showing off the small yellow rubber duck, whose head was in her mouth.

Tommy didn't even give her the chance to spit out the duck before he picked her up and practically ran with her to the makeshift sink by the outhouses. Really it was a tub under a water pump, with a few bars of soap on a nearby stool. Placing her down firmly on her feet, Tommy grabbed the nearest soap bar and couched down by his daughter.

"Spit it out."

Confused as to why her father didn't seem happy she'd won, Y/N's brow pinched as she shook her head.

"Y/N spit the duck out now."

The four year old girl still shook her head. She'd won the duck, why did she have to give it back? Tommy's face grew stern and he took a tone he rarely did with the kids.

"Y/N spit the duck out NOW!"

Finally listening, Y/N finally pulled the rubber toy out of her mouth and pouted at her father. Tommy ignored it for now more concerned about the fact he'd seen a used cigarette butt in the water as he went to grab his child. Fuck, there were probably so many diseases in there she'd be dead by dawn. Who even allows such a filth game at a fucking fair, Tommy thought, especially without explaining how to play. Evidently the game was harder than he thought, and the standman should have made the rules more clear. Now his beloved daughter probably had the plague or something like it.

"Good, now open your mouth."

Again Y/N complied, only to be met with a small bar of soap being placed on her tongue as Tommy urgently tried to get whatever filth was in the water out of his daughter's mouth. Her nose wrinkled as the taste of soap covered her mouth and Y/N tried to hit her father's arm, knocking his scrubbing off her tongue. And though she hadn't been strong enough to do so, luckily a few moments later her father pulled out the soap. Refusing to close her mouth Y/N could feel the bubbles on her tongue and angrily tried to kick her (usually) beloved father. Tommy caught her leg, looking her in the eyes, and from his pocket pulled out a small flask with a thin green ribbon around the cap. It also had a few small flowers on top a train engine carved on the metal sides.

"Yeah yeah, I know it sucks and I'm sorry but it's almost over sweetheart. I'm gonna pour some of this in your mouth and then you're gonna close your mouth, but NOT swallow it. You're gonna shake your head and then spit it out. I repeat you WILL NOT swallow it, it's only to rinse your mouth."

The flask didn't contain alcohol. It was actually filled with juice, and he carried it around with him most times incase Y/N got thirsty on an outing. Polly and Marie had disapproved of him getting it for her, but Y/N have been delighted to receive the "small can" like she'd seen her father carry around. It had taken two months to find a jeweler willing to etch the odd design on it too, but it was worth Y/N's smile as she lit up seeing her gift, and began immediately talking about where the flower train could be going. He also carried one for Finn, but that one was currently in Arthur's jacket. It had also been etched, but with the image of the deer and turtles Finn liked to watch by the pond the family took picnics at occasionally.

"Y/N swish and spit it right now."

Narrowing her eyes, but knowing she had no other choice, Y/N stuck out her tongue letting her father pour a small amount of juice inside the mouth. Then after shaking her head twice she purposely spit the liquid back out.... right onto the toes of her father's feet. Crossing her arms, Y/N glared at her father wondering why he had to go and ruin a perfectly good day.

Tommy looked at his shoes and then back up to his daughter's hurt face. Shit. Taking his jacket off Tommy wrapped it tightly around the dripping Y/N, who now looked to be on the verge of tears. Wincing, Tommy realized that maybe he should have explained what he was doing first. Here she was, a thinking she's won a game, and he had to go and practically punish her for it. Tommy had never washed her mouth out with soap before, but he now remembered Polly half threatening to do it to him before, while Y/N sat playing on the floor. She probably didn't realize Tommy was just briefly panicking about her getting sick from whatever had been in the water.

"Y/N?"

The mentioned girl averted her gaze looking down at her feet as small sniffles began to come.

"Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry I just did that," Pulling his daughter closer, Tommy, fully on his knees now, gently placed a finger under her chin so she'd meet his eyes. Tommy's heart sank seeing the tears beginning to form. "I'm so so sorry I did that sweetheart, I was scared that you put your head in the water yeah? It's dirty and I'd don't want you to get sick."

"I ...I didn't... I didn't know that though."

Y/N looked to the side whimpering slightly as Tommy's hand came up to wipe away any remaining tears.

"I realize that sweetheart and I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to do that, and it surprised me yeah? I reacted badly and I'm sorry I didn't tell ya why I was doing it before I scrubbed your mouth. I promise it won't happen again yeah. Do you think you can forgive me sweetheart?"

It wasn't often Y/N was mad at Tommy, atleast not over big things. But it still didn't stop the pain in Tommy's heart everytime he made his daughter cry, even if he was mad at her for something else at the time. It hurt anytime he saw her cry, but knowing he'd been the cause made him feel that much worse. Staring at her father a bit longer, Y/N shuffled her feet and wrapped her father's jacket tighter around herself. Her father really did seem sorry and besides he'd never done anything like it before so maybe he was telling the truth.

"Do you promise you won't do it again?"

"Yes, Y/N, sweetheart I promise I won't do it again."

She dragged her feet in the ground for a bit, watching the mud seep in to her father's pants.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Time and time again, Tommy was often surprised by his sweet daughter's willingness to forgive and put the past behind her. It certainly wasn't a trait she'd gotten from his side of family. But then again, her and Finn always were a bit different. They were the family's chance to be raised better than the rest were. Especially since Arthur Sr. wasn't around anymore to cause the pain he always did. Maybe Y/N and Finn were a bit softer than the rest, but Tommy didn't think that was a bad thing. He didn't necessarily want the youngest two involved in the darker part of the growing family business. The one that meant he had to swap out his caps in the garage after work before coming inside to see the kids, lest they hurt themselves grabbing the blades sewn inside his usual one.

"Yeah it's ok Daddy. I'm not mad anymore. You said sorry."

Relieved he hadn't totally ruined his relationship with her, Tommy pulled his daughter close, not caring that his other clothes were getting wetter by the second. Y/N wrapped her arms around her father in response as they remained that way for a few minutes. Then Tommy let go and stood up, ready to rejoin the family.

"Wait!"

Looking back down to his daughter, Tommy saw that she was holding not only the duck, but the small bar of soap. Tommy chuckled.

"What love? Do you want to clean the duck before we go back?"

"Yes, help me please."

And so he did.

Tommy Shelby helped his four year old girl wash the small yellow duck, making her laugh with the terrible duck impressions he did. Tommy was much better at neighing like horses than quacking like a duck. Once finished, she dried the duck off with her father's coat and held it close to her chest.

"Alright? Now are we good to go," Tommy asked again. Y/N began to nod and then stopped. She smiled innocently, but Tommy recognised the look in her eye. Tommy thought his daughter had the face of an angel, but he couldn't quite deny the bit of devil in her angel eyes. That was the part she got from him. Y/N offered the small bar of soap to her father once more.

"I want you to try it."

Tommy's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Daddy, I want you to taste the soap since you made me try it. It's only fair."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn't have to try eating the soap. Besides the fact it was SOAP. But his daughter was right. He'd made her try it, and so logistically it was only fair if he did too. Damn himself for trying to teach her about taking responsibility for one's mistakes. Good parenting evidently had some drawbacks. Tilting his head, Tommy tried appealing to Y/N one more time.

"Are you sure I have to try it? It doesn't look too good."

Y/N shook her head.

"It's not. At ALL. That's why you can't swallow it. Now here."

Sighing in defeat, Tommy took the soap. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he did as his daughter asked. If only to teach her a lesson about making up for her mistakes. Lord knew he needed to get better about it himself, instead of ignoring them or making more problems to hide the small ones. Breaking off a small piece, he stuck it on his tongue, nose immediately wrinkling at the taste. Y/N's eyes never left his face, watching intently as he closed his mouth and rolled the soap around like it was a piece of candy. All of the sudden, Tommy inhaled though his nose and the piece of soap shot to the back of his mouth. Gagging, Tommy spit out the soap, grabbed the flask and desperately tried to swish out the taste.

"That is fucking disgusting....Don't tell Polly I said that word."

Y/N laughed at the small bubbles coming from her father's mouth with each spit. And despite the lingering taste it was enough to turn Tommy's own lips upwards. She clapped her hands at her father's problem, satisfied with the fate he'd been dealt. Rinsing his mouth one more time, Tommy straightened up again and brushed Y/N's hair back from her face before moving to fix his own too. Thankfully, no one else saw the dangerous gangster almost meet his end.... choking on a piece of soap.

"Now can we go back? You still haven't picked your prize yet sweetheart."

Y/N grabbed her father's hand and began to lead him back towards the booth.

"I know exactly what I want."

Hand in Hand, father and daughter walked back to the tent where their family was waiting. As they got closer, Tommy could hear Arthur threatening the vendor.

"When that little girl comes back you are going to give her whatever fucking prize her little heart desires, I don't care if it's the shirt off your fucking back, do you hear me? As far as she's concerned she won anything alright?"

Nodding fearfully, the game man accepted Arthur's words. Finn was the first to notice the pair's return, smiling wildly as he held his new stuffed deer.

"Y/N look what I won!"

Eagerly, Y/N raced over to Finn, lightly running her hand off the top of the soft stuffed animal.

"Finny he's so pretty!"

"I'm gonna let him sleep by my stuffed chicken I think."

"What's his name?"

"I'm naming his Deery because he's a deer."

"Ohh that's perfect!"

Eager to loose the threatening gaze of Arthur, the vendor cleared his throat nervously, gaining the attention of both children.

"If you like the deer you can have one too kid. You did win the game, so pick any prize you like."

Y/N looked to the pile of prizes the man displayed to the side of the tent. Turning over the duck in her hand she saw a circle which was a medium prize, the same size as Finn's deer. Pointing to the pile she looked at the vendor.

"My duck has a circle under it so I got to choose from there right?"

Arthur glared harder and Ada nudged him to tone it down a bit, but the vendor already noticed.

"Actually you can pick anything you see from the tent just like this lad did. You two are my best customers today, so you can have any prize you like. Even the big ones."

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

Y/N didn't even hesitate, beaming as like she told her father, she already knew exactly what she wanted. She stuck out her hand.

"Can I have this?"

"......You want the duck?" Tilting his head, the vendor was confused. He'd given the girl any choose of prize she wanted even the big ones, and she choose the rubber duck she'd grabbed..well bitten... from the water. Truthfully the man knew the ducks weren't the cleanest. He figured it didn't really matter about keeping them super clean when people only picked them up for a few seconds with their hands. The vendor had never seen anyone use their mouth to grab a duck. He'd have to put that in the rules now too. Y/N only grinned, holding the duck close to her chest.

"Yes please, I really like him. He's really cute and cuddly. My daddy already helped me clean him too. So can I keep him?

Still confused but not about to reject the sweet child the vendor conceded.

"Alright then girly. If you want the duck you can have the duck. Congratulations ... I think?"

Happily, Y/N bounced up and down, pleased with her duck. It fit perfectly in one hand and in her small pants pocket, which meant he could go with her everywhere. Racing back to Finn, Y/N was quick to show him her prize.

"Finny, LOOK! I got a rubber duck!"

"What is its name?"

"Ducklores, it's like Dolores but with duck!"

".....I like that! Do you think he wants to be friends with Deery?"

"YES! They can be BEST friends, Finny. Just like us!"

Eagerly the children dove into conversation over their new toys as the family walked back to the car. Despite a few bumps and bubbles it really had been a great day for the fair. Tommy's mouth still tasted like soap and he was holding the rope by Y/N's pants again but she didn't notice. She was far to distanced talking about the fun they'd had and showing off her duck to Katie. But Tommy didn't mind, because his daughter was smiling. And that's all he ever wanted. If the last thing Tommy saw was he daughter's smile, he knew he could die a happy man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N? Why did you stick your head in the water?"

"I thought it was like bobbing for Apples, Finny. But with ducks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

#tommy shelby x child reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

456 notes · View notes

hamsterclaw · 1 year

Text

Doll

Yoongi says the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it forces you to examine your feelings for him.

A Vows prequel. Read the rest here.

Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: Arranged marriage AU!, smut

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Note: Inspired by a prompt on AO3 and brought to life by the big sexy brain of @vyduan including the immortal quote ‘Get out of my house, hyung!’

You’re sitting in the back seat of the taxi, feeling a lot like you’ve thrown a live grenade and are fleeing the crime scene.

Yoongi’s words keep echoing in your head, like the expression on his face as he realised what you’d done.

He’d been working on this deal for months, gradually winning over the investors with his meticulous planning, his consistency, his straight up incredible instincts.

You don’t know your husband that well, but you know that he’s pretty damn good at what he does.

And you? You’re not good at anything really.

You have an ex who used to call you a pretty doll. You hadn’t minded it at first, it’d seemed like an endearment. Then slowly, you’d come to realise that he actually meant it.

You were decorative, ready to be played with.

Not good for much else.

Yoongi couldn’t have known in advance how much he would upset you when he’d spread his legs on the bed, patted your ass, and told you to ‘shut up and sit on my lap, doll.’

You’d been upset, but you’d obeyed anyway.

You’re worried about how much you want to please him when he doesn’t give a damn about you.

Doll.

You’d been so worked up you’d paid a troupe of strippers handsomely to put on a show outside his office just as the clients arrived.

Yoongi had known immediately, already searching the crowd gathered for you. He’d marched right up to you, grabbed your wrist to stop you from fleeing, and said, emphatically, and with meaning, ‘you cold hearted bitch.’

Somehow it hadn’t hurt as much as him calling you ‘doll’.

After all, you’d earned ‘bitch’.

‘Are you ok, miss?’ the taxi driver asks, tentatively.

You’re jerked out of your thoughts.

‘I’m fine,’ you say, realising your cheeks are wet, swiping at the tears rolling down your face. ‘I’m fine. Can you stop here?’

You have the driver pull over and drop you off because you can’t stand to be inside anymore.

You feel oddly lost as you look down the busy street.

It’s close to 5pm, and it’s already dark. You pull your coat closed and your keys jangle in your pocket.

You have an idea.

***

You slot the key into the lock, half expecting it not to work. You wouldn’t be surprised if Yoongi’s had the locks changed.

To your surprise, the door opens soundlessly into a short hallway, and beyond it, the apartment Yoongi owns in the city.

Yoongi had taken you to this apartment in the first month after you were married, showing you around so perfunctorily it was almost as if he were an estate agent and you were a client instead of being husband and wife.

He’d explained that he’d bought it for the times when he was too tired to drive home, and that you were free to use it as you wished.

He’d presented you with the key you’re clutching now, metallic ridges cutting into your palm.

You’d thanked him, and that had been it.

You’ve not been back since.

The apartment’s warm, cosy now that you’ve switched on the lights.

There’s nothing in the fridge, barely anything apart from furniture in the living room.

You pour yourself a glass of water and head to the bedroom.

You help yourself to one of Yoongi’s t-shirts and an oversized sweatshirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and crash on the couch in front of the TV.

You snuggle into Yoongi’s sweatshirt, inhaling the clean scent, and before you know it, you’re asleep.

***

You wake to the door opening. You sit upright on the couch, heart thudding in your chest.

You hear footsteps, and then, a very beautiful man stumbles into the room.

It’s not your husband.

‘Seokjin,’ you groan, hand to your chest. ‘You startled me.’

He seems just as shocked to see you, taking two uncoordinated steps back.

Like you’re going to attack him.

He says, ‘I wasn’t expecting you either.’

He narrows his eyes suspiciously at you. ‘What have you done with Yoongi?’

‘I haven’t done anything to him!’ you splutter.

‘Sweetheart, you’ve done a lot to him,’ snaps Seokjin.

Unexpectedly, you feel tears prick your eyelids.

You look away so he can’t see your face.

He’s not wrong.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask. Your voice wobbles a little but you’re hoping he doesn’t know you well enough to notice.

Seokjin’s quiet.

When he speaks, his voice is gentler.

‘I was going to crash here tonight, I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.’

He goes to the kitchen, fills up two glasses of water, passes you one.

The water’s cool down your parched throat. You feel like you’re burning up.

Seokjin murmurs, ‘Those are his favourite shorts. He won’t let me borrow them.’

You gulp your water and finally feel in control enough of your emotions to say, ‘I won’t let you borrow them either.’

You look up to see Seokjin rolling his eyes.

‘Like I’d want them after you’ve been using them.’

He sounds like a child.

You don’t dignify his comment with a response.

‘Does Yoongi know you’re here?’

You feel the tears threaten to come back.

‘I sent strippers to his meeting with Opal,’ you confess, miserably.

Seokjin’s quiet for so long you have to look at him.

He’s staring at you, a bemused expression on his face.

‘Damn,’ he says finally. ‘You’re an evil genius.’

He leans back in his chair, unbuttons the top button of his shirt, loosens his tie.

‘So did he kick you out of the house?’

‘He’d never do that,’ you say. As soon as the words leave your lips you know they’re true.

Yoongi’s a lot of things, but he’s always taken his responsibilities as your husband seriously, even when he can’t stand you.

Seokjin’s looking at you knowingly.

He drinks the rest of his water and sets the glass down.

He gets up. ‘I’ll take the spare room, if that’s ok with you.’

You tilt your chin haughtily. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to offer to share the master bedroom.’

Seokjin looks down at you, a flicker in his eyes you can’t interpret.

He raises a brow at you but all he says is, ‘Good night, Y/N,’ before he heads down to the spare bedroom.

***

When you next wake it looks as though it’s not long been light outside.

You sit up, and a wave of nausea sends you stumbling to the bathroom. You retch into the toilet, head pounding, the room swirling around you.

You feel awful.

You wonder if this is the universe exerting karmic revenge on you for being a cold-hearted bitch.

You get up unsteadily and trudge to the kitchen for some water.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, trying to hold back the urge to be sick, when Seokjin enters.

He looks like he’s just stepped out the pages of an autumn/winter campaign for a high-end designer.

You close your eyes and will him away.

‘Are you ok?’

‘Fine,’ you grit out. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You look terrible,’ he says.

‘I’m probably contagious,’ you snap, exasperated. ‘Better stay away.’

You clap your hand over your mouth and rush back into your room.

You stay crouched, hugging the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl, until you hear the door close.

***

When you wake next, the sun’s high in the sky.

The nausea’s settled, but now your head feels like it’s trying to crack itself open from the inside.

There are noises coming from the kitchen.

Jesus, the apartment has more foot traffic than most department stores.

You wonder how many people Yoongi’s given a key to.

Unbidden, Park Gyuri’s beautiful face flashes into your mind.

Not for the first time, you wonder about Yoongi’s relationship with the stunning ex-model.

You lie very still in bed, but the noises don’t stop.

Pulling Yoongi’s hoodie on, you go to investigate.

Only to nearly run into Seokjin.

He grabs your arm to steady you.

‘Brought you some food,’ he says, briskly.

You wonder if you’ve stepped into an alternate universe.

‘Why would you do that? If I die Yoongi can marry someone else without dividing his assets.’

You’re following Seokjin into the kitchen.

He scoffs without turning around. ‘I’m sure he has an ironclad prenup.’

He starts spooning soup into a bowl.

‘There’s meds and water on the counter.’

You sit, still dizzy with a sense of unreality.

Have you died and is this the afterlife?

You’d always thought you’d see your mum after you died.

Tears are falling from your face even before Seokjin pushes a bowl of steaming broth in front of you.

He passes you a napkin.

‘Eat up,’ he says. If he notices your tears, he doesn’t let on.

For lack of anything better to do, you obey.

Seokjin fills his own bowl and joins you.

Which is how Yoongi finds you, crying into your chicken soup silently with Seokjin sat opposite you.

He says nothing about the bizarre tableau for a moment, then he turns to Seokjin.

‘Hyung, give us a moment.’

Seokjin sets his spoon in his bowl. There’s a look that passes between the two men as Seokjin gets up to leave, but you don’t have the bandwidth to interpret it right now.

Yoongi waits until the door’s closed behind Seokjin.

Then he asks, not moving from where he’s standing in the doorway, ‘why are you crying?’

His voice is completely neutral. It sounds like he’s asking you what you want for breakfast.

You don’t know how to answer him.

‘I’m sad,’ you say finally.

Yoongi considers your answer for an inordinately long time.

‘Do you want a divorce?’

Again, his voice is completely neutral.

You search his face carefully, and when you don’t find an answer you toss the question back his way.

‘Do you want a divorce?’

Yoongi says, slowly, ‘I didn’t marry you to make you unhappy.’

‘I’m unhappy, but not just because of this marriage,’ you reply.

Yoongi still hasn’t moved from his spot.

‘I have no desire to make your life miserable,’ he tells you. ‘If being married to me is making life intolerable for you, then we shouldn’t be together.’

He looks away as he speaks, and there’s something sad about the way his throat works as he swallows.

You realise, with a sudden blinding flash of clarity, that this is what your impenetrably tough husband looks like when he’s vulnerable.

And for some reason, you find it unbearably moving.

You realise you have a choice here.

You get up, and move to stand in front of him.

‘I hate you, Yoongi,’ you say, reaching up to cup his cheek.

His gaze meets yours.

‘You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met,’ he replies.

He brushes a hand over your cheek, pushing your hair back.

‘Seokjin said you were sick,’ he says, very gently.

‘I feel better,’ you say.

Yoongi looks unconvinced. ‘Come, let’s go lie down.’

You end up sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

Yoongi puts on a movie.

‘You’re wearing my shorts,’ he remarks.

You say, innocently, ‘would you like them back?’

There’s a smile in his voice. ‘Stop tempting me.’

You fall asleep with a smile on your own face at the warmth you heard in his voice.

When you wake again, it’s with a clear head and your beautiful husband dozing on the couch next to you.

With him asleep, you allow yourself to look without restraint at the planes and angles of his face.

You drink him in.

You’re still staring when he says, ‘I’m sorry I called you a cold hearted bitch.’

You start, and he opens his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again. ‘If what I said made you cry.’

‘I don’t mind being called a bitch,’ you reply.

His hand’s slowly stroking your thigh over his shorts.

‘Don’t call me a doll,’ you say.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I knew you were upset that time.’

He leans closer to you. ‘What can I call you, jagiya, that won’t upset you?’

‘I don’t mind being called baby,’ you say.

Yoongi presses a soft kiss to your cheek. His voice rumbles in your ear.

‘You’re a brat,’ he tells you. ‘You sabotage the business deal I’ve been working on for months, and then you put on my favourite shorts and ask me to call you baby?’

His hand’s so high up your thigh now he can hook his fingers into the waistband of his shorts.

‘Why do I want to do it anyway?’ he asks. He drags his teeth over your earlobe.

He slips his hand under the shorts, cupping you over your panties.

You’re already wet, have been since he called you a brat in that tone he uses that’s half amused, half exasperated.

It’s not so much that your husband’s deep, gravelly voice is sexy, although it is.

It’s that he sounds affectionate when he calls you a brat.

You’re starting to realise that his feelings for you, like yours for him, are more complex and multi-layered than simply love or hate.

Yoongi mouths over your neck, long fingers stroking over you. He slips one finger inside you, and you cry out, muffled against his shoulder.

‘Baby,’ he groans, finger pressing deep, curling inside you. ‘You’re so warm.’

‘Yoongi,’ you murmur. The urge to move your hips against his hand is so strong you can’t keep still.

Yoongi slips another finger into you, and you moan at how he feels. His palm presses against your clit, making you pulse over his fingers.

‘You make me so angry, jagi,’ he tells you, words coming out staccato, punctuated by his fingers moving inside you. ‘Why do I want to give you everything you want?’

This is news to you, but you can’t process, not with the way his fingers are working inside you, how his lips are pressed against yours. It’s not so much a kiss as a claim.

You’re not in control, not when Yoongi loves on you like this. You let go, and he groans into your mouth as you come.

‘Baby,’ he says. ‘My baby.’

***

You’re curled up in a corner of the bedroom when Yoongi comes out of the shower.

He casts a glance at you as he walks over to the dresser for his clothes.

The way his back flexes as he rummages through the drawer gives you courage enough to say, ‘hey.’

Yoongi turns, lifts his chin at you, hand curled into where his towel is tucked around his waist.

His hair’s wet, slicked back, and holy hell, he’s beautiful.

‘You want these shorts?’ you ask, getting up.

Yoongi acts like he’s not interested, but the curl of his lip gives him away.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘Come take them off me,’ you say.

Your husband smirks at you, and then makes his way over to you, every step purposeful, deliberate.

‘I ought to spank you for what you did with those strippers,’ he says.

‘Promises,’ you scoff.

Yoongi laughs as he reaches you. ‘Stop tempting me,’ he warns.

Both of you hear the sound of the front door opening.

You freeze.

‘How many people have the keys to this apartment, Yoongi?’

Yoongi gives you a funny look, like you should know. ‘Only you and Seokjin.’

He turns, calls out.

‘Get out of my apartment, hyung!’

‘Forgot my watch,’ calls Seokjin.

‘He probably just wants to watch us again,’ Yoongi mutters.

He smirks. ‘Want to give him a show?’

#vows au #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bts suga smut

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orqheuss · 1 year

Text

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) PART 1

(Ominis/Sebastian/GN!Reader FLUFF)

Parts: 1 2 3

Summary:

After everything the three of you have been through together, there's only one grand journey left: marriage, and the sweet hereafter that comes with it.

***

The finale of my series "Life is not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis" Can be read as a stand alone fic! Title from the E.E. Cummings poem "i carry your heart with me (i carry it in]"

The scent of sweet maple syrup and savory bacon stirred you from your slumber, bringing a smile to your face as you greeted the new day. You could feel the soft kiss of the morning sun flutter across your closed eyelids, and you stretched your limbs upwards like a flower blooming in spring. Throwing your arms downwards, your palms landing on each side of you with a soft ‘pap,’ you slid along the silk sheets as you searched for one or both of your partners— your Slytherin boys were both absent from the bed. A small, grumpy frown began to tweak at the corners of your mouth until you heard Ominis’ angelic giggles come from downstairs, a mischievous tint to his voice, followed by a boisterous, indignant shout from Sebastian. Even with the size of the house you’d inherited, you could still pinpoint their voices in any crowded room, no matter the volume or the magnitude of the space. You smiled again, your lips turning upwards and warding away any semblance of sadness that briefly crept into your heart as you sighed contently. The band on your left ring finger dazzled in the sunrise, sending tiny rainbows along the creamy yellow walls all around.

Other than having them beside you, arms crossed over your torso and faces pressed into your skin as they groggily entered the world of consciousness, there was no other way that you would want to wake up. They were your world— your little slice of heaven, your Versailles. You would know them in any timeline— in life, in death, in sleep, at the end of the world, and even in the sweet hereafter.

Padding towards the large windowsill in your master bedroom, the glass stretching from floor to ceiling with a grand arch decorating along the top, you stop to run your hands along the fine dress robes hung on the coat rack. Three sets of wedding clothes swayed in the fresh breeze, each regal and beautiful in their own way. What could only be described as pure, childlike giddiness filled your body as you realized what day it was. In just under ten hours, you’d be married to your two loves— your soulmates.

Drawing the shimmering chiffon curtains, you gazed out at the beautiful countryside that stretched through your estate. Fresh dew coated the soft grass, wetting the hooves of the speckled deer that grazed in the field just over the hill, snacking on wild hydrangeas and buttercups, and teaching their newborn fowls how to prance. From the trees came the gentle cry of morning doves, fluffing their feathers as they wake to the sunrise and singing their sweet birdsong for their friends. The sky painted everything a fiery rose, shades of pinks and purples, blues and oranges streaking across the horizon and glowing through the bewitching sanctuary you called home. It was like something directly out of one of the fairytales you had read as a child. Just under the window, their trouser legs rolled up to keep them dry and their messy bedheads cascading over their faces, your closest friends raised the tent you would be using for the ceremony. You couldn’t help but cast your eyes over the beauty before you, both of nature and of a familiar, domestic love— your eyes softening and absolute adoration swirling in your chest.

The house, or mansion really, was left for Ominis when he was of age by his dear aunt Noctua. His wretched family had hidden the details from him for the longest time, stowing it away in their family vault at Gringotts where they thought he would never find it. You remembered the day he left for the wizard bank, keen on clearing out every last knut he was owed before he cut them off forever. You had expected to see at least a few bags of galleons weighing down his hands and pockets as he apparated into your shared living room later that day, but what you didn’t expect was that and a rolled up scroll clenched in his fist, tears streaking down his cheeks as a shaky smile stretched his lips. He took you by the shoulders and dropped the bit of parchment into your waiting hands, letting himself be enveloped by his brunette partner as you read over the words on the page before dissolving into sobs yourself. The three of you had a home, a place outside of the never ending sounds of London, and a place where you all could grow old together in the comfort of each other’s arms. Maybe a few little ones could even be in your future, their tiny legs running up and down the long halls and twirling around in the private ballroom. Dreams flashed behind your eyelids like a moving picture; little boys and girls with ashy blond hair and coffee toned eyes, their curls unruly atop their heads and birthmarks scattered along their skin like tiny constellations. Maybe they’d have your nose, or your temperament, or maybe even your magic— only time would tell. A calming warmth filled your chest, contentedness enveloping your entire body and sending a pleasant hum through your mind, stretching from your ears to the tips of your fingers and singing with magic. Your wistful sigh filled the air around you as you smiled down at your friends again.

Maybe one day— that’s what the three of you decided long ago. One day soon, you hoped, but simply one day was as good as any. You had more than enough love in your heart for a few more souls.

A knock broke you from your thoughts of the future, the smell of breakfast stronger in your nose and the sound of your darling fiance’s whispers filling your ears. You smiled as the door opened, letting your body fall gently against the glass of the bay window as you took in the sight before you. Sebastian poked his head in first, his eyes jumping over to the bed looking for you before his eyebrows tweaked briefly in confusion. He craned his neck slightly, and the most glorious smile broke across his face when he saw you standing there in the morning sun. You looked divine — the orange rays caught your hair just right and made the strands look like pure heavenly fire. A look of what could only be described as instinctual, encompassing love poured into his eyes, and yours glowed in tandem.

The brunette jostled slightly, his face turning into a slight frown of annoyance at the impatience of his second partner.

A huff came from behind him. “Honestly Sebastian, can you move, please? This tray is heavy.” Ominis shouldered his way into the room, lightly shoving his freckled love out of the way as he carried in a small feast of delicious looking food. “I’m sure they look ravishing as always, but good lord, have some decorum.”

The taller boy stumbled into the room, catching himself against the door frame and sending a scathing look at the blond as he crossed the room and placed the meal on the coffee table across from the bed where there was a little seating area. You giggled lightly at their antics, smiling behind the hand covering your mouth. Sebastian turned his gaze back to yours and leveled you with an equally tiffed look, but even still his amber eyes held a softness at the sound of your laugh. Ominis unsheathed his wand from his pocket, quickly scanning the familiar room for your aura. He could feel how happy you truly were through his wand, hear the soft thrum of your heartbeat as you took in the two loves of your life. An equally lovestruck smile graced his face as he felt you by the window, basking in the warmth of a new day and the joy of what was to come in mere hours. He quickly crossed the room, taking you into his arms and twirling you away from the perfect view. More laughter spilled from your smiling lips, filling the room with a rapturous mirth and mingling with the song of his. You briefly caught sight of Sebastian still leaning against the door jam between turns around the room, the softest look you had ever seen from him coloring his features— like you both put the stars in his sky, like you turned his world and kept his heart beating. Your whole soul leaped with happiness.

Ominis pulled you against his chest, the backs of your knees brushing against your unmade marriage bed as he rested his forehead against yours, steadying you from the blinding dizziness that turned your world.

He murmured softly to you, his breath brushing against the apples of your cheeks. “Good morning, little dove.”

You lightly kissed him in return, taking him further into your arms and letting him envelop you in his contentedness. You closed your eyes and drank him in— everything about him called to you like a lighthouse in a torrential storm. He was everything. They both were your everything— your life and your death. They were the moon that ebbed your tides, the sun that warmed your skin, the stars that caught your wishes and dreams, the earth that held you steady and safe. You wouldn’t wish for anyone else to spend your life with.

You could hear Sebastian’s soft steps as he crept closer to the both of you, a smirk dancing at his mouth. “As lovely as this is, I got up very early this morning to cook for the both of you and I would like to go back to sleep.”

He stepped into your space, wrapping his arms around your forms and pressing delicate kisses to the tops of your heads. You moved to leave the tangle of their limbs, eager to eat the hypnotizingly good smelling breakfast that called to you on a primal level, but the brunette seemed to have other plans. He tightened his hug, laughing at your noises of shock as he hoisted you both into the air and unceremoniously dropped you atop the soft bed sheets. He all but shoved his way onto the bed, wiggling around like a worm in the dirt, squeezing you in the middle of him and Ominis and wrapping his arms around your waist like they belonged there.

You giggled against the blond’s shoulder, your breath warming his skin through the fabric of his nightshirt. “Sebastian—”

A hum broke off your train of thought, the brunette hugging you tighter to his chest and shoving his face into the crook of your neck; you could feel his toothy grin against your pulse. “Nope, you both are staying right here with me— no arguing on my wedding day.”

“Our wedding day,” Ominis drawled from your other side, but relenting nonetheless, crossing his arms with Sebastian’s and threading their fingers together on your hip bone. You couldn’t hold back the giggles that spilled from you.

“You both are ridiculous.”

Ominis smiled softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Oh most definitely, but you love us.”

You sighed contently, your heart nearly bursting from your chest with how much you loved them. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

There, tucked in their arms in your king size bed, a sweet birdsong flowing through the window and a cool breeze brushing against your skin, was exactly where you wanted to be for the rest of your life.

This— This was bliss.

Of course, peace could never last long with your friends around. You and your partners were startled from the sweet call of sleep by a loud bang— your bedroom door ostentatiously swung open and smacked against the wall just beyond. Anne Sallow strutted into the room, her eyes covered and a mischievous smile stretching from ear to ear.

“Everybody put your trousers back on, I’m here for the ones that aren't my brother!”

Sebastian groaned into your neck, lamenting on the small iota of tranquility he was able to snag before the hustle and bustle of the day reached him. Ominis did the same into your hair, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer. They both spoke at the same time, an equal amount of whining lacing their tones.

“Bugger off, Anne. I just laid down—”

“I thought you considered me a brother as well? Quite offensive if you ask me—”

The brunette girl rolled her eyes, peeking out through her fingers and taking in the sight before her. Deciding it was safe and everyone was in proper levels of dress, she dropped her hand and leaned heavily against the door frame, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at the three poor souls she called her family wiggle around helplessly on their bed. You could hear the eye roll in her voice.

“Yes, Ominis, you’re my brother too. I’m here to collect those that don’t share a face with me.”

The blond sighed heavily, giving up on his comfort and rolling away from your tangled crossing of arms and legs. Sebastian bemoaned a high pitch whine into the silken sheets when you did the same, letting all of his body weight flop dramatically atop the blankets and pillows.

Ominis embraced the standing Sallow twin, rocking her gently back and forth before placing a soft kiss on her temple. “Now that’s more like it, my dear.”

You greeted Anne similarly, hugging her with all of your strength and laughing lightly as she scolded you for dragging the boys back into bed with you. You shook your head at her, gesturing towards her sulking brother who had decided to sit up finally, a pout stretching the corners of his mouth and his shoulders slumped over his lap.

“Don’t blame me, you’re demon spawn of a brother all but tackled us when he got back to the room.”

Sebastian gawked at you, looking highly offended at your verbiage before turning his face back to the bedspread and muttering to himself. You distinctly caught the tail end of what he was saying, something along the lines of “—didn’t hear you complaining.”

Anne held you at arms length, shaking her head and rolling her eyes again at her stubborn mule of a sibling. She took one of your hands into hers, grabbing Ominis’ with the other and began to pull you out of the room with her, calling over her shoulder at the still very much pouting freckled man.

“I’m taking your spouses with me, Sebastian! Garreth and Imelda will be up momentarily to help you get ready.”

You could hear your future husband's complaints from down the hallway. “Why them!? It’ll be a miracle if my dress robes aren’t covered with assorted potion ingredients or torn to shreds by that feisty devil woman and her ginger puppy.”

You snorted, letting Anne drag you the rest of the way down the grand staircase and into the foyer where the rest of your friends were waiting. The Sallow girl spun Ominis towards the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw of your group, smiling at his laugh when Poppy and Amit caught him before he could fall, before shoving you into Natty’s arms.

She stood before you all, hands on hips and a grin on her face. The girl clapped her hands together resolutely, speaking to her audience like she was delivering a grand speech to the Minister of Magic himself.

“Alright, let's get you both ready to walk down the aisle, shall we?”

And with that, you both were whisked away in different directions and towards your future.

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x sebastian #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x you #fluff #masterlist

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elysiangroundsforall · 2 months

Text

Love & War

"Everything is fair in love and war."

Ch-7

Seonghwa lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of the imminent marriage. The events of the day had left him restless, and sleep seemed elusive.

Meanwhile, in her own chambers, Y/N tossed and turned, her thoughts equally consumed by the impending union. She couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty that gripped her heart.

As the night wore on, both Seonghwa and Y/N found themselves lost in a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of their respective responsibilities bore down on them, casting a shadow over the excitement of the approaching wedding day.

Despite the fatigue that weighed heavily on their bodies, sleep remained elusive, leaving them to grapple with their inner turmoil in the solitude of their chambers.

In the darkness of the night, with only their thoughts for company, Seonghwa and Y/N found themselves on the brink of a new chapter in their lives, uncertain of what the future held in store.

The following morning, Seonghwa awoke to a flurry of activity outside his chambers. "WHAT IS ALL THIS!?" he thundered as he emerged. "We're just putting on some last-minute decorations," the head maid explained. Seonghwa sighed in resignation and retreated back into his room, dreading the events to come.

"Master?" Yunho entered. "Yes?" Seonghwa replied. "It's time to get ready, my lord," Yunho informed him. Reluctantly, Seonghwa acquiesced and proceeded to his bathhouse, where his servants bathed and dressed him in his wedding attire. He sat in a wedding carrier laden with gifts for the bride and her family as he made his way to the palace, signaled by the rhythmic beat of drums.

Meanwhile, Y/N prepared for her marriage in her chamber, adorned in a resplendent red and white wedding hanbok. "Aunty?" she called to the queen. "Yes?" the queen responded. "I'm very nervous," Y/N admitted. "It's natural to be nervous, but everything will be fine," the queen reassured her.

As the time approached, a servant arrived to escort Y/N. "Let's go," Yeji said, and Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the momentous occasion. They descended the stairs to the open tent adorned with crimson silk in the garden.

Inside the tent, the king inquired about Seonghwa's family. "They couldn't make it on time," Seonghwa explained. "You look beautiful, princess," Yeosang complimented Y/N, earning a grateful smile from her.

As Y/N entered the tent, her eyes locked with Seonghwa's, and both were captivated by each other's presence. They exchanged bows, signifying their mutual respect and commitment.

"The groom will now present gifts to the bride's family," the priest announced. Seonghwa's servants brought forth lavish gifts, and a shaman presided over the Hapgeunrye, invoking blessings for their future.

During the Hollye ceremony, Seonghwa and Y/N exchanged heartfelt vows, pledging to stand by each other through thick and thin. In the Pye-baek, tea was offered to the king and queen in a gesture of filial piety.

Following the wedding, a grand reception was held, attended by nobles and dignitaries. As the festivities came to a close, Seonghwa sent a carrier to escort Y/N to the House of Gladiolus, marking the beginning of a new chapter in their lives together.

Ch-8 >>

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dyinggirldied · 2 months

Text

The Happiest

The fanfic is available on ao3 here

Two months before December, the emperor summoned her for a private meeting. Once upon a time it would have brightened her day, taking this gesture a feeble proof that he held something for her, his other daughter, in his heart.

Nowadays, it perked her up, but not in childish naivety or hopeful longing but in tentative caution and nervous wary.

Worst, the one to bring the news was his loyal dog, the Crimson Knight. Sir Robane smiled at her, perhaps hoping to put her at ease but tried as she might she couldn't find the will to return the same. Had she been Jennette, it would have come easy for her.

But she was Athanasia, gloomy, somber Athanasia.

The moon could never be the sun no matter how hard it tried.

Lily's reaction mirrored her inner feelings but she assured the older woman, her heart warm in comfort of the knowledge that she had one person who was always there in her corner from the beginning to now and ever after.

"It will be alright Lily." she assured her, taking the strength from her mother-figure's fierce embrace. "I will be back soon."

Of course, anything involving the emperor could not be guaranteed but in a fit of bravely stubbornness, Athanasia swore to make this one true.

"What does his Majesty wish of me?" she asked as they walked on the impossibly long hall.

Unlike her royal father, Sir Robane was free of his expression in comparison to his commander and she could decipher it in a second. Her back chilled despite the warm golden light spilled through. The long hallway didn't help as it stretched into a maze and she felt absurdly like a prisoner about to face a Minotaur.

She bowed her head, avoiding the rows of past royals staring back at her from their portraits.

The gilded door towering over as she stepped in.

Robane stationed outside.

Emperor Claude looked no different than the day she glimpsed him behind those walls as a child nor the dreaded day when she kneeled down, begging for any scraps of his love. The noon light cast a halo on his fair head and despite the tousled state of his robe, power radiated his every move. Cold Obelia gemstone-eyes dissected her as she curtsied and began the etiquette forms necessary when facing those of higher ranks.

Surprisingly, Jennette wasn't here. The pit of fear worn itself deeper in her stomach but she willed her face to be cool and smooth, unbothered.

The maids brought in the tea and array of cakes, heads low similar to her. Once done, they quickly scattered, leaving her truly alone with her father for what seemed like forever, not including the disastrous time she had begged him on her knees for his understanding, his love.

What a stupid, insipid girl she had been.

He made her wait for twenty minutes, to which she only dared to take a slip from the black tea and not any of the desserts. A small part of her yearned to taste the pretty looking chocolate cake, decorated in gold and berries but she held herself.

A princess must not be wanting, even a bastard-born one.

All the while, Claude's eyes bore into her form.

"Duke Martell has sent a proposal for your hand in marriage." his Majesty spoke suddenly, leaning back on his chair, a paper in his hand.

Athanasia froze.

Her prospects hadn't been great even before Jennette's introduction at the débutante. After all, her father was healthy and young enough and could potentially sire more desirable sons and daughters. After Jennette was welcomed into the fold, however, Athanasia had suspected she would either be wed to a minor noble of Claude's faction or secretly disposed of to ensure Jennette's golden future.

On the other hand, his words looped inside her mind. House Martell was one of the most prominent noble houses in Siodonna, having connections and relations to the royal family. If her memory served, the current queen of Siodonna related directly to the duke in question's father. She might need to check just to be sure.

"Apparently," he continued, eyes never left her. "He has heard tales of your beauty and manners which intrigued him greatly, despite your...lesser birth and pitiful lack of mana." she was still as the statues lining outside the garden despite the subtle dig. "What shall you make of that?"

It was not a question. "Whatever your Majesty wish, I shall obey. For it is your will above all."

He smirked but the glint in his eyes remained.

"Get out."

"As you wish, sire."

She didn't run but it was a near thing.

-------x----------x---------

Two weeks later, after the summoning the Crimson Knight came back to the Ruby Palace, an announcement on his lips that rattled her entire being.

She was to leave Obelia the day after her birthday for her voyeur to her mother's former home and her new home. The ship would carry her, the entourage of her choice (this, she nearly buckled under waves of relief and so was Lily), guards for her defense and her dowry to Siodonna for her wedding.

She didn't care much for the dowry than the having at least one familiar face at a foreign land but she was surprised and grateful that he would honor her this. Sir Robane gave her the list and so far, it was pretty standard: a chest full of gold coins, precious gemstones, priceless pearls, expensive linen.

It was more than she ever dared to hope of.

She wryly suspected that had the emperor got his way - which he had plenty of - she would have been at Siodonna and a married woman by now. Out of sight, out of mind. It was an open secret to the court how her father perceived her presence.

She would give it to Jennette's influence, the second person in Obelia that would rather Athanasia stay.

Her musing was proven correct when days after the news, Jennette immediately invited her to the Emerald Palace for their tête-à-tête. Here, they ate and laughed - Jennette had the talent for making even the introverted Athanasia opened up - and they had discussions and conversations about Athanasia's soon-to-be-husband and Siodonna.

To be honest, she hadn't contemplated much about her future groom. Then again, the whole matter had happened at a breakneck speed so she hadn't the time to do so. What she told Jennette was drawn from limited information about the duke.

(She had to be careful with her choice of words too. Despite the wedding on the horizon and international political affairs at play, ears were everywhere, the waggle tongues more so. One wrong word could see her lost it all.)

Duke Phoebus Martell was seven years her senior and the middle son of the current Siodonna queen's brother. He was talented at archery and sword skill. There were rumors that he was a playboy and Jennette had concerns but as long as he didn't flaunt his affairs in her face, she would let him be. Especially if he proved himself to be a cruel man but if he was, his family hid it well or there was truly none. That was all Athanasia could gather. The rest, well, she would soon find out she guessed. If it came down to it, she would survive. What was another tragedy, being a forgotten queen in a foreign country?

Immortal was her name but survival was her fate and she would chase it to the very end.

"The people are making songs about you, you know." Jennette's lips curled; the smile lit up her elegant face. "The Winter Princess married to the Duke of the land of suns and spices. There are even poems!"

How strange. She didn't know what to feel about that. She had been isolated in Ruby Palace for so long that she doubted the common people was aware of her name.

"Siodonna." Jennette tested the foreign name, the pronunciation slightly off. Athanasia was sure she would get it better next time. "I hope I didn't bother you Athy, but it was your lady mother's homeland, right?"

Her mother, lady Diana. The dancer whose bewitching ruby eyes and sensual dancing skill had captured her father's attention. She had had time to make peace with

Athanasia nodded. "It was, yes." she placed her cup down the saucer. "And you have no need to worry Jettie, I am sure Siodonna is a wonderful place one can call home."

-------x----------x---------

Weeks leading up to her birthday and eventual journey, she was granted higher allowance from his Majesty. Her dresses are more diverse, more fashionable than anything she had been wearing for the past seventeen years of her life.

The nobles, usually snickered at her attire and attitude, didn't provoke her as much as they used to. It was by no virtue of her and more of fears to accidentally set themselves up in emperor Claude's way.

For to object the marriage that he had gracefully accepted was objecting his will and borderline questioned his decision. A thing no one with a healthy dose of fear of death wanted to be accused of.

Regardless, she knew this marriage was far better for one of her station. Siodonna was one of Obelian Empire's allies but Claude's treatment of his Siodonna-born concubines, her mother included, was less than satisfying. Siodonna, in fact, found it equally horrific and barbaric for they treasured their subjects, especially the commoners.

Unlike most empires and countries, Siodonna understood the value of everyday men and women. They took the most percentage of farmers, inventors, clergy, military, magicians, healers and so many more.

Not to mention, Siodonna was leaps and beyond in treatment to their illegitimate children. They could inherit and occupy any position lawfully and any discrimination was met with swift and heavy punishment. Obelian Empire could never!

It was the reason why the talented, the ambitious and the hopefuls were attracted to the land, despite its boiling temperature and unique geographical placement. The latter was the main reason why Siodonna had retained its independence for thousands of years.

They always said that Siodonna conquered by marriage.

-------x----------x---------

December 3rd came in a swirling of snow flurries and an exciting, anticipating burst of decorations at the Emerald Palace. No matter how obviously spoilt Jennette was by their father, he forbid her from celebrating at the Ruby Palace. So, Jennette's palace it was.

Athanasia had insisted, almost pleaded Jennette to instead make it a smaller party. She had very few people in her inner circle that wished her well and she argued that for her last birthday at Obelian Empire, she wanted it to be Jennette and Lily. Sir Robane was added for extra measure.

Jennette had ordered a three-foot long chocolate cake that was beautifully decorated in gold swirls and fresh, exotic fruits. They had their shares of the delicious, obscene treat and got a bit tipsy in the process. Afterwards, it was time for present.

Jennette's gift was a pair of handmade dolls, obviously resembling her and Athanasia, along with a necklace whose azure gemstone sparkled similar to their iconic royal eyes.

A rare book that must have cost a fortune from lord Ijekiel (as Jennette insisted on being informal)- whose business he had to attend so he wasn't here.

Lily gave her a silk ribbon and a handmade handkerchief.

Felix's was perhaps the most outstanding. When the red-haired man had reached out a single pair of gold earrings with tiny rubies embedded in the middle and a large, red gemstone ornament, Lily had gasped, face pallid.

"This is all I could save of your mother." he told her gently, sheepish. "I think lady Diana would like you to have it, especially now that you are going back to her home soon."

She thanked the man, her mood slightly damped.

Later, in bed she would touch the ruby stone, thoughts running in her mind. Had Diana ever wondered her fate would end like this? Dead and buried who-knew-where in a foreign country, a man she believed to have loved her abandoned their daughter in a crumpling, blood-soaked palace for years on end?

Finally, she shoved it away. Her mother was dead and she was alive.

Overall, tonight was the best birthday of her life.

-------x----------x---------

She hugged her sister as their tears found their ways together.

"Don't forget me." Jennette cried. "Please don't forget me."

"I won't." Athanasia promised.

Sir Robane and lord Ijekiel stood a foot away, respectively avoiding their eyes from this touching scene. The latter seemed to want to say something, eyes flickering to and from her. In the end, he stayed put where he was.

She watched as their shapes blurred and as she sailed further and further from Obelia. She couldn't identify the tight feeling in her chest. It might be grief; it might be relief. It could be both.

"Princess, would you like some warm tea?" Lily asked, a hand on her shoulder.

What a sweet woman. Lily deserved better than Athanasia could give her, would give her.

"That will be great Lily."

-------x----------x---------

As soon as they arrived, the air changed. She could taste the spicy tint in the air, how thick the wind was. Their heavy garments, unsuitable to the weather, was soon soaked in sweats that minutely, Lily had to change her outfit into a lighter blue dress that accommodated her figure nicely and wiped her forehead obsessively.

She felt guilty for always making Lily so worry but the older woman's foresight was immeasurable once she caught the sight of the man she had learnt to remember.

Lord Martell and his entourage were there to greet her when she came aboard. He was handsomer than she expected. His eyes were a lovely red shade of wine, his skin dark and his curly hair darker. He wore the robe the style she had seen repetitively on her father, and gold ornaments fit for prince.

She flushed when he caught her eyes lingered a tad too long at the exposed nest of dark hair on his muscle chest. Lily's stare was heavy on the back of her head. Lord Martell's chuckle contained no notes of maliciousness she was often used to back home.

"My lady, if you wish to look, don't be shy." he teased. "It will soon be yours to look after every day."

"You are too kind sir." she coughed; a tingling of sort rushed through her spine. Strangely, the idea pleased her.

"Phoebus." he kindly corrected. "You will be my wife soon and I don't wish for us to be strangers."

Something in her relaxed. "Then, you can call me Athy." She offered. "That's what my sister calls me."

"Athy." he smiled and took her hand. "Welcome to Siodonna."

-------x----------x---------

The wedding was the most opulent, full of sounds and colors, food and wine. Her dress was light as a feather and softer than silk, a multitude of shades of orange and pink that highlighted her every best features.

Phoebus stammered when she descended into his line of vision and a tiny part of her was glad for the unintentional payback to him at the dock.

He took her hand and together, they recited the oaths.

Her smile was brighter than ever.

-------x----------x---------

Her new home was grand, no less than any of Obelian Palaces, with its ivory and airy architecture. A lake situated in front of the mansion.

Phoebus brought her to meet up with his parents. She could see where Phoebus got his best features from.

Her mother-in-law kissed her on the cheek, and a tear slipped from her wine-red eyes.

"Your mother and I were best friends. Bosom friends. Our mothers had been friends and our grandmothers before that." she said. "If I had known of your damned father's behavior towards Diana and you sooner..." Her fist clenched.

The current of hurt and sorrow beneath the anger moved her heart. That an ocean away there was someone who cared deeply about her mother, a woman long gone and her, a practical stranger. She didn't ponder on the what-ifs. Now was better than her loftiest dream.

She tip-toed and returned her mother-in-law's kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." she whispered and let the woman tugged her into an embrace.

Later, her mother-in-law would again give a kiss to Lily, thanking her for being Diana's friend and confidant and for being a mother to Athanasia.

Athanasia's heart, once previously shrouded in thorns and darkness, opened to sunlight.

-------x----------x---------

Phoebus was...not what she had been prepared for. He was friendly and sly but never mean-spirited, unless someone gave him reasons to. He respected her as an equal, hadn't once deemed her inferior because of her gender or age, willing to help and guide but never dismiss or belittle her when she made a mistake.

They ensured there was always break time, where Phoebus proceed to hold her hand and sneaked her away, as if they were two young teens in a clandestine love affair!

(Her face reddened but she didn't admonish him much more than she should)

He taught her Sindonna slangs and jokes and obscure facts that had her lips quirked. She, in turn, returned it back full force, having advantage over him by mastering more languages.

Open up to him was easier than it should be but there was not an ounce of regret in it.

-------x----------x---------

After much thinking, she decided to sign up to dancing lessons, the Siodonna's dancing style. She found it beautiful and magical the way Diana must have once found it and soon grew to love it.

Her mothers clapped the loudest when she performed.

-------x----------x---------

Her fear that once grasped tight to her heart diminished each and every day.

It was easier to sleep at night, no longer needing to fear a monster with fair head and cold, indifferent eyes waiting for her to tumble. That there was strong hands, warm chest and tender kiss on her head to snap her out of her night terror that gradually decreased.

-------x----------x---------

She gave birth to a daughter, which she named Lilian but everyone agreed on the nickname Annie. A pair of twins graced their family few years later, the son she named Aelius and the daughter Diane.

-------x----------x---------

She didn't aware when the realization hit but Athanasia was happy. Lily, who had taken care of her since she was a child was here, hale and healthy. Her husband's parents loved her dearly and she to them. Phoebus was not the prince charming she once imagined of, he was real and so was their children.

Her sweet children, who would never have to go through a lonely, isolated childhood, living in a blood-splattered wall or begging for a father's love that never existed.

For the first time in her life, Athanasia confidently declared that she was the happiest.

#a fanfic where lp!athy gets love and happiness #in this age and economy?#more likely than you think #lp!athy deserves better #lovely princess #lovely princess canon divergence #who made me a princess #athanasia de alger obelia #wmmap athanasia #wmmap #suddenly became a princess one day #sbapod

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scrivenerofchaos · 5 months

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Shadows of Faith 1/3

SUMMARY - In "Shadows of Faith: The Corruption of Sweet Carmilla," we follow the story of Carmilla, a devout young woman who anticipates a traditional marriage arranged by her parents. However, as her wedding day approaches, Carmilla's nightmares grow increasingly vivid and disturbing. She finds herself consumed by hunger in her dreams and haunted by the sensation of being watched. Amidst the chaos of her nightmares, a seductive voice calls out to her, whispering her name, "Carmilla." This voice belongs to Desdemona who reveals to Carmilla that she will eventually lose her faith, at which point she will be ripe for the taking.

Carmilla’s Nightmare

Carmilla relished in her morning walk around the Everhart family grounds. A grand estate, purposefully decorated for each season and occasion from Gregory, her father’s library to Genevieve, her mother’s painting studio to the classroom where she and her brother, Benjamin, were taught etiquette and culture of the world. Carmilla followed the well-trodden grassy path created from years of her foremothers footsteps. The sun warmed her deep skin, likened to the soil of Mother Earth. She glided her bare feet across the blades of grass and dirt to be cooled before taking another tentative step forward. Her house was a home filled with memories she’d cherish forever.

She wondered how she could feel at home on her fiancé, Irvine’s land. He was, “a fine young man,” according to her father. A stranger to her. She couldn’t help her thoughts turning to dreadful things. All the musing made her head spin. A sinking feeling formed in her stomach. These were not the butterflies she read about in her romance novels. It was a more familiar feeling. She was hungry.

She sat at the dining table. It stretched the length of the room. There were no decorations centered, there was nothing on the table at all - no plates, cutlery or crystal. She didn’t think it was odd, that her family were not in attendance. But the servants were nowhere to be found as well. The entire estate seemed devoid of people. She was alone and suddenly became aware of it.

Everything was still and quiet. Not even her old home made a sound, not a creak or settling noise. Carmilla struggled to remember how she got here, sitting at the empty grand table alone. Her memory faded, her skin still felt the warmed by the sun. She remembered that she was outside once. Why couldn’t she remember that?

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her. Nothing else mattered, she was starving. She made a move to leave the table, when she smelled the most delicious meal. A feast materialized before her, tempting her senses with its tantalizing aroma. She wanted nothing more than to take the food in her hands and bring it to her lips. In confusion, she hesitated, a fleeting thought came crossed her mind, how’d this get here?

The gnawing hunger roared in her gut. Without hesitation she took bite after bite, hardly chewing, hardly breathing as she gulped each morsel down, each tastier than the last. She felt she would never get full. The more she ate the greater the pain grew in her stomach. She was so hungry, the food intoxicating, she could hardly get a hold of herself.

A voice, velvety and commanding, pierced the silence, calling out her name, “Carmilla.” The voice was strong enough to break whatever curse compelled her to eat without sense. She pulled herself away from the plate.

There at the opposite end of the table, a dark figure sat, still and quiet yet their presence filled the room. The air was dense, heavy. Carmilla struggled to breathe. She couldn’t see the stranger’s face as it was shrouded in darkness, she felt the tingle of eyes watching her.

Carmilla swallowed the last morsel, before attempting to speak. She felt the urge to ask the dark visitor a question yet she didn’t know what. She whipped her face with a crisp white napkin made of cloth. As she returned the napkin on the table, a bright red stain caught her eye. She froze in confusion at the sight of it - it was blood.

In shock, she put her hand to her face and felt the congealed blood cling between her fingers, sticking them together, they formed ribbons as she pulled her fingers apart. She looked down at her plate as if that would grant her answers. That it did, in horror.

As she struggled to comprehend the gore before her, the stranger’s voice, resonating, a haunting melody like chimes in the wind, “Carmilla.”

The room smelled of fresh cut flowers. She felt a powerful urge to shift her focus on the stranger at the end of the table. Yet, She couldn’t break her gaze from the carnage before her on the silver platter.

She couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. She shook her head in disbelief. “No, no, no,” Carmilla shook her head, covering her bloodied face with her soiled hands.

A familiar warmth enveloped her, “Carmilla,” sang her mother.

Her mother’s voice, a sweet escape from the hellish nightmare. She sat beside her daughter, eager to start the day, holding fresh clothes and water in hand for her, “my darling, Carmilla.”

Carmilla jerked awake, startled but grateful to be free of the deep sleep. The sun’s raze flooded her bed chambers. A look of relief washed over her beautiful sweaty face.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Bad dreams again, my sweetling?” Her mother inquired, concern evident in her voice.

“Yes, but”, her mind losing the grip of the dream that felt more like a fading memory, “I can’t seem to remember it at all.”

”Ah, what a blessing then. We can focus on more important matters.” She set her daughter’s day clothes on the bed and poured a pitcher of warm water in the washing bowl. She gleefully continued, “We have wedding dresses to try on. They’ve just arrived this morning.”

Carmilla sat up slowly, the lingering fear of her dream made her feel sluggish. She felt the familiar feeling in her abdomen. She lifted her covers to reveal fresh blood staining her bed linen and sleep gown. Her mother, unshaken by the sight, did not hesitate to ring the bell for the servants’ assistance.

”Do not fret. We’ll get you freshened up.” Her mother assured her with confidence.

“I guess I won’t be trying on any dresses today?” Carmilla asked, disappointed.

”We can still peruse the selection,” she held her daughter’s hand, “You just rest. The first day of bleeding is always the worst. I will have the servants bring you your favorite.”

Her mother made a gesture to the servants without speaking a word. They moved in an organized fashion. They prepared a copper tub for bathing and fresh clothes for bleeding days.

She was served a plate of duck bacon, buttered toast with apple-cinnamon jam, freshly cut fruits and berries with black tea. Gazing at her food she felt a hint of nervousness but couldn’t remember why.

Her mother distracted her from her anxious thoughts, ”When you feel better, we can take a stroll around the grounds if you desire. Exercise is good for you, especially on your Moon-day.”

She recalled the serenity of walking, then the dreadful feeling returned as if anticipating the other shoe to drop. The emotion soon passed, fainter now and weaker, she focused on other matters.

She forced a weak smile, ”I’d like that very much.”

In the dressing hall, several rows of pearly white wedding garb displayed before them, waiting to be chosen by Carmilla. She and her mother studied the dresses intently before moving to the next. A servant follows them closely, writing down their comments about each garment.

”Number…34,” Carmilla paused, making sure the servant wrote it down before continuing.

”I love the lace trim on the bodice,” her mother commented, the servant feverishly writing.

”It’s a bit tight here,” Carmilla criticized.

“We’ll send it to the tailor, of course,” her mother reassured, she couldn’t find a bad word to say about any dress, she loved them all.

The mention of a tailor and Carmilla’s mind reeled with thoughts. Each trousseau felt like clouds beneath Carmilla’s fingers. This was everything she dreamed of since she was thirteen years old. She had libraries full of diaries, vision journals and scrapbooks packed with artist’s illustrations, poems from classic writers, and her own prayers detailing her perfect life to come; her perfect wedding, her perfect husband and perfect children. Choosing the perfect dress with her mother completes one task from the list of to-do’s.

Carmilla decided to do a combination of her mother’s wedding dress and something new. Her mother’s wedding dress, passed down for five generations, didn’t quite fit her body type. She had wider hips and a deeper bosom than her mother. The sense of style had changed over the years, Carmilla desired to make a dress of her own.

The dress would be tailored by none other than the bride-to-be’s best friend, Emily. She was more than an expert tailor, she knew every curve of Carmilla’s body as they were once interested in heavy petting on the long and lonely nights.

Emily’s affections couldn’t be returned by Carmilla. It was unclear if it was the pressures of tradition and religion, economic status, or the fact that Carmilla couldn’t see herself happily wed to someone who couldn’t give her children.

Her mother would say, “Have your fun with the girl now. When the time comes to make the family and your God proud, you must get married to someone who can provide for you as you provide them with future children.”

Emily is a tradeswoman. Carmilla is an Everhart. The Everharts amassed a great fortune from once being tradespeople several centuries ago. Now the family is a thriving business. Taking their special friendship seriously would be going backwards down the poverty line.

When Carmilla envisioned her perfect wedding, it was her betrothed that flooded her mind’s eye, not Emily. Her husband-to-be, is Irvine Quartermaine. A man her father approved of. He was of good stock, wealthy, and he’s a devout follower of Easis, like the Everhart’s. A perfect match for sweet Carmilla.

And yet, she desired nothing more than to be held by Emily again. She couldn’t shake the forgotten nightmare, she had grown accustomed to Emily’s support. The ill-faded dream slipping from her mind like smoke in the air. She couldn’t tell if the sinking feeling in her gut was from her cycle or the ill night visions. No, this aching was deeper, the pain lingered in the body, like the dull soreness of fatigued muscles.

She remembered the sleepovers of her younger days. Carmilla grew up sickly and bedridden most days. Emily would keep her company during those challenging times. They’d hold hands as Emily fed her because she was too weak to lift the spoon. When Carmilla woke up screaming, Emily would be there, holding her in her arms. She wondered if Irvine was as kind and gentle. He had to be, she dashed the thought of doubt, if he follows Easis’ teachings he has to be a good man. But what if he isn’t? Her stomach turned at the thought of her dreams being dashed. She closed her eyes and hurriedly plucked a pale bridal gown from the rack.

Her mother smiled happily before confusion appeared on her face, “This one, love?”

She nodded her head before muttering, “I don’t feel well,” and hurried out the room.

The day yielded to the night. Carmilla drank chamomile tea to soothe her nerves. The uneasiness of the day melted into the rhythm of night. Cicadas sang and the cool breeze rustled the tree leaves. She looked at her bed intently before making her way to the walk-in closet. She borrowed through a forest of hanging clothes to reach a wooden box. She knelt before it as if praying. She opened the box to reveal an aged charm. This trinket was handmade. She gently took the charm into her hands and hugged it to her chest.

“It was only one bad dream,” her mother’s solemn voice came from behind her.

“I haven’t lost faith like you,” she walked past her mother to her bed.

Author's Notes: My inspiration - "Write about the love you've always wanted," My sibling told me.