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buckets-and-trees · 2 months

Note

I’m so happy to see you back on my feed 😍 An ask for your sleepover! Do Cedar Trees!Steve and his Queen have any ::ahem:: spring rituals*? 👀

*Make it dirty lollll.

Title: Love That's Laid Beside Me

Collection: CEDAR TREES Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x Queen!Reader Word Count: 5k

Summary: With the first spring equinox, Steve shares a tradition from his past before he was royal. You broach something that's been on your mind for your future.

Content & Warnings: royal au, discussion of children, explicit smut - NATURE/OUTDOOR SEX (bahaha YAY), nipple play, cock stroking, brief cock warming, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, slight dirty talk (it's still royal Steve, so...), breeding kink, potential pregnancy

Logistical Notes: I knew the second you dropped this in my askbox that I wanted outdoor sex for the spring equinox, and when I started it, it was timely, but I have worked on this installment of their story now for six or seven weeks. I've rewritten it a couple of times, wrestled with parts of the emotional journey. Steve surprised me in the middle portion by opening up with a lot more nostalgia than I knew was going to insert itself into the story. And then with the rest of their conversation for the final third of the story, I went back to the drawing board a few times. Thank you @biteofcherry and @stargazingfangirl18 for being instrumental in talking through what I was working on with Steve and his queen at vital points when I needed it!

Narrative Notes: Steve and his queen were married in June, and this takes place during their first spring together. To read previous pieces chronologically, refer to the masterlist of this collection's pieces.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You look up sharply at the sound of your name. “Mmm?”

“You seem distracted, my love,” Steve says, his brow furrowed in concern.

You shake your head slightly. “I am sorry, it was perhaps a longer day than I anticipated it would be.”

“We can dispense with the dessert course if you are too weary,” Steve suggests.

You scoff. “Dare not speak of such a thing!”

He chuckles, and you smile broadly at him. “I withdraw the proposition,” he says, his eyes sparkling with mirth for a moment.

But as you both savor the exquisite chocolate mousse presented a few minutes later, you notice his frequent gaze on you is more scrutinizing. You do your best to engage again in the conversation.

Truthfully, you have been distracted, but you did not wish to draw his concern. In part it is because you do not want him to worry about you, but more so you yourself do not want to dwell on the issue that has begun to encroach on the edges your thoughts these past weeks. But the exquisite taste of chocolate and his striking blue eyes do serve to draw you back into the moment.

You do your best to gracefully scrape every last bit of mousse from the small crystal goblet, and once the service is cleared away, Steve stands and extends his hand toward you. You stand and go to him. This is familiar now.

He draws your hand to his lips, presses a kiss to the backs of your fingers, then tucks your hand in the crook of his arm. “May I escort you to your chambers to retire for the evening?”

“Yes, of course, my king,” you respond warmly and fall into step with him, leaving the dining room behind.

You have fallen into certain routines after dinner, and while the two of you do not do the very same thing each night, you do spend nearly all your evenings together, the only exception if he must be away on royal business. This evening you read while he sketches before darkness seeps through the windows and you two begin to get ready for bed.

Once you’re both fully freed from the entrapments of your elaborate day wardrobes, you catch Steve studying you again through the reflection of the mirror as you stand in front of your vanity.

“What is that look?” you ask, frowning at him.

“You are very quiet tonight.”

“Again, I am sorry, I must be tired.”

You can see in his eyes that part of him wants to press you further, but he chooses not to. At least not about that.

“Too tired for a little adventure?” he asks.

You turn and fix him with a playfully scrutinizing look. “Pray tell what adventure a king thinks he can get up to in the twilight hour when he’s in his bedclothes?”

“Come with me and find out.”

His eyes are full of mischief, and there is no way you could resist him with that look on his face.

He picks up your velvet cloak and hands it to you before donning his own.

You reach for some boots.

“No,” he stops you, “no shoes.”

“Barefoot?”

“Slippers should do.”

He grins and reaches for your hand. The two of you go hand in hand as you sneak out of your chambers. Steve gives the men standing guard a look that says they are not to appear to know the two of you have left or which way you have gone unless the situation is dire. As king and queen, you can only be so discreet on this adventure as you pass enough guards and servants that your movements cannot in any way be a secret. But it is still a bit of a thrill to skirt through the castle swiftly in the dark, fingers twined together, escaping out onto the grounds. You wind through the gardens as dusk turns starts to turn to darkness, beyond the stables and more gardens, past the royal orchard, and across even more ground until you ultimately reach a thicket of trees. This, you know, is the south side of the royal grounds, and if not for an eventual stone wall to secure the castle, it could have been any common forest you were ambling into.

The moonlight is just beginning to cast its silvery glow across the night, and it only adds another layer to the novelty of the moment. The two of you follow an almost-path into the trees, and it continues further than you expect it to go. It is clear Steve is familiar with this path, his steps through the trees and the brush steady and sure.

As you move along, your steps hadn’t been rushed once you’d escaped the castle proper, but Steve starts to slow significantly, and you step closer to him with the relaxed pace, able to walk with him rather than follow through this part of the landscape that is new to you. Steve brings your hand up to press a kiss to the back of it and smiles down at you.

“When I was young, my ma used to try and find ways to lift our spirits. We were so poor, but she never wanted us to want for reasons to be happy. She thought it important to make any occasions special as they came our way with our own rituals and traditions.”

Married less than a year, you are still learning much about each other in this relationship – there were so many things in the present, you had spoken of some hopes for the future, and much of the vast troves of the past lay behind you to explore. You knew his father had been killed as a soldier in a war between kingdoms when he was still a toddling child, and his mother had been lost to a plague just before he’d come of age. The few times he’d spoken of his mother, it had always been with such warmth that it made your heart swell and grew your affection for him even more.

“I don’t remember how old I was when she started this tradition, but one night instead of having me get ready for bed, she bundled me up enough to keep me from catching cold in the March evening air, put on her own cloak, and we ventured out into the night, just outside of the village, and into the forest. It was the spring equinox, and she said if we walked into the clearing, left an offering, and made a wish, then the magic that came with the awakening of spring would make that wish come true.”

He'd stopped at some point during those words, and as you look around, you see you are in a very small break in the trees – not quite big enough to be called a clearing.

There weren’t big festivities and royal duties around the equinoxes in the kingdom as there were for the solstices, but there were still rituals and traditions in the days leading up to and following, so you knew the significance of this day, and tonight was the last night where darkness held equal balance with the day, and then daylight would take the reigns for its share of the year.

“I love that you’ve kept that tradition in her remembrance,” you say, running your other hand up and down his forearm. “What sort of offerings did you leave?”

“It would depend on the year,” he responds, plaintive in thought, “sometimes whatever small token we could scrounge, others perhaps a specially baked good or honey if we could spare it. When I began to draw in earnest, sometimes I would leave a sketch for those forest sprites, or fairies, or deities, whatever you would believe ruled the trees.”

“And your wishes came true?”

His gaze lifts to the starry sky for a moment, then he looks down into your face. “Perhaps one or two, but some of the wishes were too foolish and did not need to be granted.” He laughs softly, and you grin and press closer to him. He then turns fully toward you to envelop you in his arms. “I think her wishes probably came true – she always wanted more for me, happiness, a good life. I have so much of that now.”

You reach up and gently cup his face in your hands. “I never planned on an unhappy life, but I think fortune granted us more happiness than either of us anticipated.”

“Indeed,” he says resolutely, bowing his head to capture your lips with his.

You kiss him back fervently. One of his hands moves down your spine, coming to stop at the small of your back, pressing you into him. You hum into the kiss, relishing the closeness and connection between the two of you.

Steve draws his lips away just before you’re at the point of breathlessness, but he presses his forehead to yours, and you continue to breathe each other in.

“I think I have something that would work for an offering,” you pipe up after a few moments of the tranquility in his embrace.

He doesn’t say anything but loosens his hold as you shift your arms back down and tug at the silk ribbon at the cuff of one of your sleeves, drawing it out of its casing.

“A fine token from my beautiful bride,” he remarks.

“And what are you giving up to the wood?”

“A piece of my heart,” he says with a grin.

You tsk at him and roll your eyes, but you do feel a small rush of heat in your cheeks and the butterflies stir in your belly because even though his tone was playful, there’s an undeniable intention in his eyes.

“No, what did you really bring, husband? I know you well enough to know you came prepared.”

He draws a small, folded piece of parchment out of his breast pocket, holding it up before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Come,” he inclines his head over his left shoulder, turning and stepping toward one of the nearby cedar trees. One of the branches hangs near shoulder height to you. Steve places the folded drawing onto the branch, holding it in place, and you step up to tie it to the branch without him needing to explain.

“I don’t get to see what you drew?” you ask as you arrange the loops for a bow and work the silk with your nimble fingers.

“If you tell a wish – or show it in this case, then it might not come true.”

You know he is not one to believe in silly superstitions, but you have your own wish you hope this ritual might help along, so you just smile and nod. “Fair enough.”

The two of you step back, and you admire the simple beauty of the ribbon and think you could very well tie many more ribbons to this tree in the coming years together. You hope that is the case.

Steve takes another few steps back into the open space between the trees, draws his robe off his shoulders, and spreads it out over the ground. You pull off your own robe and join him as he lays back and holds his arm open for you. He assists as you drape your robe over your lower halves. The air is crisp but not cold, but the warmth of his body against yours is wonderful, and you nestle into him.

The stars dotting the heavens are bright skirting around a full moon, and as the two of you gaze up at the night sky, you twine your fingers with Steve’s at your shoulder. You have maintained who you are, who you were raised to be, strong and steady, noble, regal, with your own sense of purpose and fulfillment, but the wholeness you feel when you are with Steve enriches your soul. You are not empty without him, but more full with him. Laying with him right now is a balm you did not know you desperately needed tonight.

Steve begins to speak again. “After she passed, I kept the yearly tradition for the equinox, but especially after I inherited this kingdom.”

His voice was another comfort. You loved hearing more of what made up this man who held your heart.

“I never sought the crown,” he continues, “but after I suddenly found myself king, I held onto anything that kept me grounded. Bucky has been a constant, but I spent much time in these woods to clear my head, work out answers I needed to sort through on my own, or simply sit with feelings or difficulties I could not suffer in the palace in front of anyone else.”

Given that admission, the semblance of a path and his familiarity navigating to this glen in the trees made perfect sense.

This man was strong and stoic, and your husband had the heart of a lion, but you could only imagine what it must have been like to inherit a kingdom and all the royal duties of being its king overnight. You had grown up as the second-born in a royal family, able to learn and prepare, with parents, governesses, advisors, tutors, and your royal siblings being brought up alongside you to prepare for a life of duty and the unique difficulties it would present for the entirety of your life. Steve had been plucked out of obscurity by fate with no training, orphaned, only a soul who had always worked hard and possessed a deep-rooted a sense of duty and desire to serve those around him in any way he could.

He speaks again, an abundant warmth in his tone. “In you I have found yet another boon and have had fewer occasions where I needed to seek out the solace of this place.”

You shift to your side to lean up and look into his face. This was not a surprise revelation. His words and actions have demonstrated consistently how much he values you since that night you had pledged your true love and affection to each other so many months ago, but him vocalizing this sentiment still means so much and makes your heart soar because your relationship is still so new.

You move down to kiss him, and he lifts his head to meet you halfway. He holds your face in his hands, and his thumbs brush gently over your cheeks.

He pulls back, presses another brief kiss to your mouth, then traces a finger over your parted lips. His blue eyes connect again to yours.

“I don’t know if you are holding back the thoughts that trouble you because I’m king and you think I have royal matters to occupy my thoughts, but something is on your mind,” he says quietly.

Your heart stings a little at his accusation – but he is not wholly wrong.

“Please,” he presses, “we said we would be husband and wife to each other, we vowed a true and unfettered love. As your husband I can see it, I know it, and it’s eating at me that I can’t share whatever is burdening you. Do not hold matters so important and worrisome back from me.”

Your throat feels thick and though you are still unsure of the words and the feelings yourself, you cannot deny Steve’s fervent plea to open up to him, and you trust that the foundation you’ve been building together will guide the two of you through however this conversation will go.

Carefully, you settle back down against him, wanting to feel his closeness. You press the side of your face to his chest, over his heart, and drape your left arm over his torso. His hand trails up and down your arm tenderly, while his other arm holds you, patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath and then let your thoughts flow into words. “Are you at all worried that we have been married three-quarters of a year,” you begin, “time enough for me to be with child, and yet we have no heir on the way?”

He hums in thought, not immediately answering.

You know the silence is short, but it feels long because you anxiously await his thoughts.

“No,” he finally answers.

He does not elaborate, and though when Steve chooses to speak and when he chooses to keep his thoughts to himself is something you have noted and admired in his character as a king, on this matter you crave every word of his thoughts.

“No?”

He sits up and pulls you into his lap, arms encircling you entirely.

“I am realizing we have never spoken about this with each other,” he says.

“And?”

“And I imagine we have spoken about it or been spoken to about it with others before our union.”

You nod.

He furrows his brow slightly, studying your face.

“Steve,” it’s you ushering the conversation now.

“Is anyone pressing you on the matter?” he asks, tone serious.

“No,” you reply.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Truthfully,” you reassure him.

“Then truthfully, you asked if I am worried – but I had not realized so much time had already passed. The longer we are married, the more it feels as if I’ve known you for ages, but it also feels as if it has been no time at all.”

You nod. “I think that is one of the reasons I have been hesitant to broach the subject now since it has been many months and we had never once spoken on the matter. It had never crossed my mind, and I didn’t know if it had yours.”

You had wondered why. You wondered if it was a mark of selfishness, or merely a mark on how devoted the two of you had been in building your bonds as husband and wife in your time as newlyweds – newlyweds in a cordially arranged marriage that turned out to be a true love match.

He remains quiet for another moment, and you place your hand on his cheek, relishing the feel of his beard against your palm.

His tone is soft when he finally continues. “I want children, not heirs.”

Your melt into his embrace, heart skipping a beat. Why had you let yourself worry at all?

“But what do you want, my love?”

“I-“

His question gives you pause. You know the most vital duty of a queen is to produce an heir, but the way Steve looks at you in this moment, so intently, you want to give him the true answer, not merely the answer you were raised to give.

And it’s in those fervent blue eyes of his that you also seem to find the truth of it.

“I want to have children with you.”

He does not ask for you to clarify or repeat the sentiment because he knows you do not speak to placate him in any way, the same way you know he does not try to placate you now.

“You know that I was not raised to be a king or with all the expectations that come along with it. Since the time the crown was bestowed upon me, I did learn the import of all the duties that were suddenly expected. Bring peace and stability to the kingdom, serve the people, and much of that was tied to expectations that I take a wife to give the kingdom a queen, and ultimately produce an heir to secure the line of succession, so I can only imagine what the duties and obligations felt like if one had been shouldered with them from birth.”

You sigh. “I suppose it is a different kind of weight as it’s all I’ve ever known, and it wasn’t thrust upon me as it was you.”

“But that does not minimize its weight, nor am I saying it was an unbearable burden for either of us. But I did feel the weight of it for all the years I ruled alone before you, and yet I stood firmly against any pressure to rush me into matrimony. Call it patience or obstinance, but I was rewarded for my waiting beyond anything I hoped for in that wife being you, and I know I was not your first proposed marriage contract either.”

“You were not, but you were the first I felt confident in, even when it was an arrangement that was amicable, not one with romantic notions or intent.”

“With that,” Steve continues, “I can do nothing but trust that there is no need to rush fulfilment of any of our duties. If and when children come into our life, it will be precisely when providence deems they should.”

“How is it you always say such wonderful things?”

He tilts his head, and the look on his face turns so soft it makes your heart ache. “Your heart inspires my heart.”

You close the small gap between you and kiss him fiercely. This man continue to show he is more than you could ever have dreamed, worthy of anchoring your soul. Your tongue teases the seam of his lips, and he opens his mouth to you immediately.

His hands are a little cold, but you do not mind the chill of his fingers as one of his hands moves under the hem of your nightdress, lands on your knee, and begins to move purposely up your thigh.

“Now, we ought to give providence every opportunity to send a child our way, should we not?” he teases.

You laugh and tug at his shirt. “We should, my king.” He lifts his arms to allow you to pull off his garment. “My love,” you add more tenderly before kissing him again.

He eases back to the ground, pulling you with him, lips locked together. The sentiments shared between you, the always enticing closeness, the novelty of having Steve outdoors, the magic of the spring equinox, all of it comes together to drive the two of you quickly into a frenzy of immediate need and want. You shift to straddle Steve and reach down to tear at the front laces of his breeches. The places where your naked thighs tuck in on each side of his bare torso relish the warmth and the beauty of the skin-to-skin contact. He hitches up your nightdress and his hands caress up and down your thighs as you reach for his cock. Steve hisses at your cold fingers wrapping around his hard length but bucks up into your hand as you stroke him.

“Inside you,” he insists. “Need to be inside you, filling you, planting my seed inside the cunt of my queen.”

You gasp at his desperate words as he moves your hands away and lines up his cock with your entrance, slamming your hips down to take him in the space of one heartbeat. You were not as wet or prepared as he usually took care to take you, but both of you groan as he slots in to the hilt, and you throw your head back, a broken groan escaping your throat. The pain is surged with pleasure, and you rock eagerly against his pelvis. The friction sends a shiver down your spine, and you close your eyes.

Steve’s hands move from your thighs to gripping your hips. You lean back just enough to plant your hands on his sturdy thighs, as he drives your hips back and forth with more vigor. The grind as his cock shifts it angle inside your pussy has you panting quickly. He squeezes your hips. “Just like that, my love, take your pleasure, let me give you what you need.”

Your movement grows more frenzied, and you whimper, not quite able to achieve the release you crave. But he knows this, has made a study of your body since your wedding night, and he knows you need more. One of his hands moves up to palm your breast, while his other hand moves to your core, and his thumb quests for your clit, applying tight, insistent circles to the pulsing nub. The waves of pleasure build even more quickly now, and when your fingers curl against his thighs, he tweaks your nipple, pinching, and it pushes you over the edge. You cry out, and every muscle in your body seizes to absorb the ecstasy of your orgasm.

Steve smooths his hands up and down your sides, then moves them around to the small of your back and coaxes your body back down to his chest, his cock still inside of you. He presses kisses along your collar bone, up the column of your neck, and along your jaw, letting you catch your breath. His hands continue their sensual and soothing movements over the expanse of your back, and he cradles your shoulders in his hands when you finally adjust your head to meet his lips once more with your own.

When you suck on his bottom lip, his cock twitches inside of you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Can I have more?” he murmurs against your lips.

You manage to nod and mewl in assent, rocking where you’re still joined together.

Using his gentle strength, Steve rolls you beneath him, keeping you on the plush velvet of his cloak, settling in the home he loves between your thighs. He cups the side of your face in his hands, and his kiss now demands, belying his eagerness. Though his lips move against yours, tongue licking into your mouth, entangling with yours, kissing, kissing, kissing until neither of you can breathe anymore, when he draws away, your mouth chases his. He grins, and his eyes dance with satisfaction as he presses his forehead to yours.

You’re his, you have been his, but the way he reverently gazes at you as he trails his hand down your neck, over your chest, cresting over your breast, down your ribcage, circling over your hip, and then coming to rest over your stomach, it’s filled with a fervent fire. His hand splays out fully over your womb, and he slowly draws his cock out halfway before giving an even slower thrust back in, clearly wanting you to feel every inch of his thick member and the action has him groaning and you keening beneath him.

“I’m going to fill this womb with my seed,” he vows with another thrust. “Going to keep you full as often as I can.”

“Please,” you beg.

He has never been shy with you, but neither spoken so directly of the physical or biological in your intimate moments as he has tonight, and it adds a new level of pleasure to the experience that fuels a primal part in your core. You thread your fingers in his hair and tug urgently as his thrusts begin to pick up speed. His kisses turn fierce bruising, and you welcome it. But when he can’t seem to keep kissing and breathing and thrusting inside you, he abandons your lips and buries his face in your neck, grunting as he presses on and on. The angle of his pelvis drags just perfectly across your clit as he adjusts and speeds up. Your walls flutter around him, and he rasps, “Go on, give me one more before I fill you up, my love.”

And his rough thrusts laced with his tender words, the way he grasps at your hip, his belabored breathing at your neck, it all overwhelms, and you release a debauched, shuddering moan when your second orgasm washes over you. Steve does not relent, and follows you over the edge with only a few more thrusts, the way your channel squeezes his cock giving him the final push, and he groans, satisfied, as he empties his hot spend inside of you. You don’t scratch, but you draw your fingers forcefully down his back, wanting to feel the tautness of his muscles. You knead his ass, holding him joined into you as he ruts slowly against you, wanting to deposit every last drop your insides milk from him in the aftershocks.

You feel deliciously spent and welcome his weight as he relaxes his body on top of you. He lays his head on your chest, and you hum and press a kiss to the top of his head, drawing your fingers back up to lightly stroke his hair, his shoulders. He caresses your sides, your legs where they are still wrapped around him, anywhere his fingers can reach, but now it’s all languid and soothing touches between you. The weight of him is so grounding in the afterglow, and it begins to lull you to sleep.

You are vaguely aware as somewhat later Steve lifts you up from the ground to carry you in his arms back to the castle. Your body was sated, and your mind as well. You have more to share with Steve soon. You should have had your monthly bleeding last week, and so the possibility that you were already with child before tonight was a very real prospect. Tonight served to quell any doubts you may have had about the prospect of you two becoming parents – that he wanted it, and so did you, and that you were both ready to pursue that journey – but you would wait a few more weeks to ensure it wasn’t a fluke before you told Steve.

And in the meantime, you knew there would continue to be more pleasurable opportunities to put a babe inside you if there wasn’t one already.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS NEW PIECE OF THEIR STORY!

As ever, I'm always eager for any morsel of your thoughts as to what you thought and questions about where they may go next...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #royal au #steve rogers x reader #royal steve rogers #aspen wrote something #cedar trees au #askpen

247 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 7 months

Text

~♡~Dating the Mikaelsons~♡~

One-Shot Edition

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

♡A date with Klaus♡

After a long day at work, you just want to go home and relax. Fortunately Klaus knows exactly what you need to unwind.

In celebration of getting to one-hundred followers♡ I wrote some smutty one-shots based on my dating the mikaelsons headcanons.

♡ Thanks for all the love and support ♡

Warnings: smut, rough sex, biting, blowjobs, rim jobs, all the jobs...I firmly believe Klaus loves booty.

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

After an exceedingly long day, exhaustion had fully seeped into your bones, leaving you feeling burdened and emotionally numb. Exiting your workplace, you headed towards your car, desperate to get home and relax. Rifling through your bag for your keys, you extracted them along with a neatly folded piece of paper.

Intrigued, you unfolded it, revealing a charming sketch of your profile gazing out of a café window. The guy you were seeing must have snuck it into your bag. You smiled, the thoughtfulness of it warming your heart. You pulled out your phone, sending him a thank-you text.

You

"I found your drawing, thank you. I've had a tough day, and this made it a bit better."

Nik

"Which one?"

You paused. There had been multiple drawings? You hadn't seen anything else in your bag. You typed back a quick reply.

You

"There was more than one?"

Nik

"Maybe..."

You unlocked your car, climbing into the seat, closing the door behind you, and pulling your bag onto your lap.

Sure enough, there were several more folded pieces of paper. You pulled them all out and unfolded them. The first was an intricate study of the hands of a man and woman, fingers laced together, palms touching. The second was a silly doodle of you, looking grumpy and flipping off the viewer.

You giggled. It was actually a great likeness. The next one made you blush and look around. It was an illustration of the two of you, nude, kissing in an intimate position. Your face was obscured by his, but the details were quite erotic.

Your body flushed at the thought of him touching you; you hadn't even kissed yet, let alone seen each other naked.

You

"I found the other ones, very creative,"

Nik

"I'm glad you like them, are you busy tonight?"

You paused. What did he want to do? You had planned on vegging out and watching some mindless television. But that sounded incredibly dull.

You

"No, why?"

Nik

"Good. I'll pick you up,"

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. You had a feeling you were going to be staying up late.

You had no idea where he was taking you; Klaus hadn’t given you any hints, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned.

You were sitting in the car with him, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. It was a beautiful evening, the sky painted a brilliant hue of purple and blue.

You glanced over at him, admiring how attractive he was. You knew that he was a vampire, a powerful one at that, but you didn't mind. You had known others, and none of them were dangerous. At least not to you.

"I thought we could take a walk; I want to show you some of my favorite places," he said as he drove.

"I would love to see them," you replied, smiling at him.

He parked the car, and the two of you climbed out, making your way down the street. It was a clear night, the air crisp and refreshing, and you could hear the sounds of traffic and the chatter of people from a distance.

Klaus walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps. His presence was soothing, and you felt comfortable with him. He casually took your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours.

You looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile, squeezing your hand.

"This is the park I like to draw in," he explained. "It's quiet, and the light is beautiful in the morning."

The two of you walked, talking and enjoying the view. He seemed to know a lot about the city and pointed out different buildings, sharing stories from his past.

You found yourself growing more and more attracted to him, the more he shared about himself.

"What was it like here, one hundred years ago?" you asked.

"It was different, but not that much. There were fewer people, and the buildings weren't as tall. It was quieter, I suppose."

You nodded, enjoying the sound of his voice. You loved hearing him talk; his accent was so alluring. You walked in silence for a while, and then he led you over to a bench, and the two of you sat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked.

"Of course." you replied, giving him a gentle smile.

"I love this city; I helped make it what it is, but as time passes, sometimes I feel like I'm a stranger here."

You nodded, understanding, "You must see time so differently from me," you mused. "I can't imagine how it must feel."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes staring out into the darkness.

"It can be lonely," he said, finally. "But with you, I don't feel that way."

You intertwined your fingers with his, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He leaned in, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself wanting him.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips with yours. He kissed you softly, his lips warm and inviting. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands wandered, caressing your back, and tangling in your hair.

You broke the kiss, looking into his pretty blue eyes, "Do you want to show me your place?" you asked, your voice a breathy whisper.

His eyes flashed, a smirk spreading across his face, "It would be my pleasure."

He took your hand, leading you back to the car. The drive to his place was filled with a heavy silence, both of you knowing what was about to happen.

You had seen the outside of the compound many times, but you had never been inside before; it was gorgeous, the décor was expensive and tasteful.

"Wow, your home is beautiful," you remarked, your heels clicking against the floor.

"Thank you," he said, smirking. "I decorated it myself."

The compound was quiet; everyone else was out or asleep. You followed him into his room, your heart racing.

He closed the door, turning to face you. He reached out, cupping your cheek. His touch was gentle and loving, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, his thumb stroking your skin.

You blushed, the heat rising in your cheeks. You placed your hands on his chest, running them up to his shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath his shirt.

You stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his, and you kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You pressed your body against his, feeling his hardness.

He pulled away, his eyes flashing yellow. He picked you up, carrying you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He climbed on top of you, his mouth trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He lifted the dress off of you, tossing it aside. You laid there in nothing but your underwear, his gaze raking over your body.

"Nik," you breathed, your voice full of need.

He leaned down, his mouth on your breast, his tongue swirling over your nipple. You moaned, arching your back. You gasped, feeling his fingers sliding down your abdomen, and under the waistband of your panties.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his hands caressing your skin.

"So have I," you replied, lifting your head and pressing your lips to his.

His fingers circled your clit, eliciting moans from your lips. You closed your eyes, his touch was quickly driving you crazy, pushing you to the edge. He watched your face, a wicked grin on his lips.

"How do you like it, love?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive as his lips grazed your skin.

You blushed, heat pooling between your legs. "I like it a little rough," you breathed, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"I always suspected you were a naughty girl," he whispered, as he nibbled at your ear. You gasped, pleasure coursing through you.

He began to move down your body, leaving a trail of soft bites and kisses. He paused at your breasts, sucking on your nipples, his tongue swirling around them. You moaned, squirming beneath him.

He continued down, his teeth grazing your skin. He hooked a finger under your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. You were completely exposed to him now, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Just beautiful," he breathed, as he dragged his teeth along your inner thigh.

He moved lower, kissing and licking your stomach. His hand slipped between your legs, his thumb grazing your clit.

"Nik," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moved further down.

He removed his hand, his tongue taking its place. He licked and sucked on your clit, his hands pushed your thighs up, giving him more room. You bucked your hips, grinding against his mouth.

He chucked, the vibrations causing a wave of pleasure to course through you. He pushed his tongue inside of you, moving it in and out, his nose grazing your clit.

You moaned, your hands tangling in his curly hair. "Fuck," you breathed, as his tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue moved lower than you expected, teasing your ass. Your eyes widened, a thrill of strange pleasure running through you, your hips jumped and you instinctively tried to push away from him.

"Mmm, love," he whispered, "you like when I do that, don’t you?"

You blushed, heat rising in your cheeks. You nodded, biting your lip.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillow.

He returned his tongue to your ass, teasing and probing it, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, Klaus maintained a rhythm that matched the dance of his tongue. Circles and teasing strokes sent waves of pleasure through you, the combination of sensations leaving you breathless, gripping the sheets as you trembled underneath him. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he pushed his tongue in your ass just as he lightly pinched your clit and you cried out, your whole body shaking from the force of your orgasm.

You were spent and panting, gripping Klaus’s hair so hard you nearly tore it out. He chuckled and buried his face deeper in your ass, groaning in pleasure. He swirled his fingers around your clit, feeling how wet you were before he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, hitting your sweet spot.

"Fuck!" you moaned, unable to believe how good it felt. He smiled and continued his assault, pumping his fingers in and out while keeping his mouth busy. His grip on you was almost painful as he held your hips in place, burying his face between your cheeks, his tongue deep inside you.

The soft, wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy mingled with his labored breathing. He pushed them in deeper, fucking you harder, each thrust making you moan uncontrollably. You were in a state of pure ecstasy, your whole body tingling, every inch of you vibrating with pleasure. You could feel his groans and grunts reverberating through you, and you pushed against him, desperate for more.

The pressure built inside you until you felt like you were about to explode. You pulled on his hair, pushing back against him with everything you had as you reached your climax. Your whole body trembled as you came, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure bliss. The sound of his groans as he devoured you filled the room, adding to your ecstasy.

You slumped against the bed, a trembling wreck. Klaus withdrew, leaving you feeling empty, but sated. He wiped his mouth and chin and grinned, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He kissed his way back up your body, his hands caressing your skin.

"No one's ever done that for you before?" he asked, his eyes dark with desire.

You shook your head, blushing.

"Good," he replied, he hovered over you, giving you a mischievous grin. Your fingers trailed down his chest then towards his stomach, tugging at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing you to remove it. Your hands explored his body, fingers tracing over his muscles, committing him to memory. He smiled, enjoying your touch as you placed soft kisses on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his hands squeezing your curves. You grasped at his belt, unbuckling it, and pulling it off. You reached into his pants, wrapping your hand around his cock, smirking as he lets out a low moan. You began to stroke him, feeling him grow harder, maintaining eye contact as you watched him groan with pleasure.

"Love," he panted, his voice thick with arousal.

"Can I taste you?" you ask, your breath ghosting over him. He nods in response, his hips bucking as you continue to stroke him.

He moved on to his back, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you lay kisses down his neck and chest, the feeling of your warm lips making him pant. Your hand never left his cock, never once slowing, and he watched as you used your other hand to gently pinch his nipple, making him hiss out a breath, his teeth clamping together. You felt empowered as you watched him melt under your touch, the big bad hybrid brought to his knees with just your hands. You trailed your tongue from his chest, lower, and lower, not even trying to hide how much you were enjoying his responses.

You finally reached his cock, settling yourself between his legs and looking up at him with innocent, doe eyes. You smirked, holding his gaze as you gripped his cock and slid the head between your parted lips, swirling your tongue around his tip, eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. You lowered yourself down on his throbbing length, taking as much of him as you could handle. Then you slowly pulled off, his cock wet with your saliva, and he moaned, his hands fisting the sheets.

"Do you like that, Nik?" You asked in your most innocent tone. Giving the head of his cock kitten licks as you watched his face.

"Yes," he moaned, his hips jerking. You plunged him into your mouth again, and took him deeper than before. He moaned and thrust his hips up as you worked him with your mouth, his hand coming to tangle in your hair, guiding you. You teased him with your tongue, licking and flicking it over the veins, taking him deep into your mouth and then pulling off with a pop.

"What about this?" You asked, teasing him some more, relishing in the power you had over him. You felt a surge of heat and wetness pool between your thighs, anticipating what he was going to do to you if you pushed him too far.

He growled in frustration and grabbed your hair roughly, pushing your head down on his cock, holding you in place as he thrusted into your mouth. You reached between his legs, stroking his balls, and he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening.

You continued to bob up and down on his cock, loving the way his hips jerked as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. You could feel his balls tighten, and you knew he was about to come.

You pushed your head all the way down, your nose pressing into his pelvis, you let out a soft hum, pushing him over the edge. He let out a low groan as he came, his cum spilling down your throat, you swallowed every last drop.

He released his grip, and you pulled off his cock, gasping for air. You held out your tongue to him, showing him you swallowed it all, and he let out a low, primal growl, snatching you by your hair and crashing his lips against yours. You breathed heavily, your heart pounding as you kissed him back, feeling the stubble scratch at your chin.

His hands slid down to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips and suddenly you were across the room, pressed against the wall, you let out a shocked gasp, clinging to his shoulders. He gripped the backs of your thighs and hiked your legs around his waist, using one hand to tease his cock up and down your entrance.

"Nik," you whispered, your voice full of surprise and desire.

"Have you ever been bitten?" He asked, you could feel his warm breath against your neck.

"No, I've never been with a vampire before," you replied breathlessly, gazing at him from under your eyelashes. You felt a rush of excitement and your legs started to tremble.

He raised one eyebrow and a sexy, playful grin formed on his lips. "I'm a hybrid, love, far superior," he teased, kissing your neck softly, then tracing your jugular with his tongue.

You moaned, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you still as he scraped his fangs over your skin. He slowly pushed himself into you, and you threw your head back, moaning as his thick, hard cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," you moaned, as his lips captured yours. He kissed you with such ferocity, sucking on your bottom lip, it was almost violent, and you loved it. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on it, feeling him groan into the kiss, causing his thrusts to speed up and intensify. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. You bit your lip to suppress your moan, knowing someone could be in the compound.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," he teased, his pretty accent giving you goosebumps as he continued thrusting into you, "It's just us. I want to hear you."

You flushed and tried to stay quiet, but the things he was doing to you had you moaning, crying out, and begging for more. You buried your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Fuck, yes, bite me, love," he encouraged, his hips snapping into yours.

You obeyed, biting down harder, hoping to leave a mark. You gasped, your jaw going slack as his fucked you senseless against the wall. Your head was swimming, and all you could focus on was the feel of his cock buried inside you, and the iron grip he had on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you knew they would leave bruises.

He pounded into you, his lips finding yours, swallowing your moans. He broke the kiss, his voice hoarse, "So pretty and all mine," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours, full of adoration.

"Nik," you breathed, his name sounding like a prayer on your lips.

He moved a hand up, wrapping it around your throat, gently squeezing, restricting your breathing. You moaned, a shot of adrenaline mixed with pleasure coursing through you. He increased his pace, and you knew he was close, his cock swelling, his pace becoming erratic.

"Are you gonna come for me, love?" he whispered, fucking you harder.

You couldn't answer, his grip on your throat was too tight, but he growled, sensing your closeness. He ground his pelvis into your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body was trembling as you came, pulsating around him, he growled, sinking his fangs into your neck, the sharp pain only adding to the intensity of the orgasm.

You felt the blood rush out of your neck, the orgasm ripping through you in waves, his hips never slowed, still fucking you hard, his cock throbbing as he continued to drink your blood. You cried out as his thrusts became frantic, his pace inhumanly fast and you knew he was about to come. As your orgasm started to ebb, you felt his cock pulse, and his release spilled inside of you.

He retracted his fangs, pressing his lips to the wounds and began to place soft kisses along your neck, his hips jerking as he rode out the last of his climax. You clung to him, your whole body throbbing as your orgasm finally began to subside, and you felt weak, your strength gone. He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours, panting heavily.

"Bloody hell," he said between breaths, giving you a wild smile as he kissed you. His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently. You sighed, closing your eyes, feeling his weight on top of you.

"That was incredible, love," he whispered, placing kisses on your jawline. You lay there, panting, enjoying the post-orgasmic glow, letting his lips wander.

"Enjoy yourself?" he teased, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

"Very much," you replied, turning your head to kiss him.

"Good, because we're not finished yet."

You giggled. "We aren't?"

"Not even close, love."

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

Authors Note: I find calling him Nik really hot... anyone else?

490 notes · View notes

i-hate-accidents · 2 months

Text

i hate accidents: the between

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings: classism, mentions of financial survival, microaggressive sexism, microaggressive gender assumption, intersectional low self-image of y/n, positive/supportive families, retelling of recurrent microaggressive homophobic experience with y/n’s family member in [II.vi], short description of almost throwing up (not related to low self-image) in [II.vii]

word count: 9.1k (of 38.8k)

story context: everything in s1 and s2 of the tv series is canon for this story except for the s2 epilogue with the bridgertons. this story takes place leading up to and into the 1815 season.

additional notes: this story is incomplete. scenes that are not written are described in chevrons <> with third person pov or are delineated by isolated ellipses. additionally, the author has only watched s2! she has not watched any of s1 aside from clips, and they have not read the books aside from quotes used in edits. they have not yet watched queen charlotte. the author kinda knows the gist of an offer from a gentleman; they are familiar with sophie beckett (and are excited to meet her/them in the tv series!).

author’s note: this is the first time the author has written fanfic in 13-15 years. :) it is her hope that they have made some progress since her pre/teens. additionally, this fanfic has been written, on and off, over the course of two years. the author sincerely hopes you find some sort of joy in it, especially the readers who maybe hope to see themself a little more specifically in the world we so love.

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @bedobeeeee @stvrdustalexx @anisas-nonsense @crazymar15 and all who have liked the story so far: the author extends her gratitude for your engagement with the first section. <3

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.i ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“have i told you that you are the best model who has ever sat for me?”

it has become a common occurrence. whenever you read while in the drawing room, benedict asks if you can be his model for his hand studies. you oblige, seeing how you are already so still while reading aside from the occasional page turn, and—more so—you want to support how benedict progresses in his craft. today, you and benedict are sat at a table as hyacinth plays a solitary game of cards on the floor and kathani and anthony sit at a couch with some delicious smelling tea. you had come over to meet eloise and penelope first thing but were soon informed that the two young ladies were still at the markets with colin. that made you smile; your loud friend is, no doubt, inserting herself emotionally and physically in between your two friends in love.

you feel yourself scrunch your eyebrows at benedict’s comment.

“surely you are exaggerating.”

“hyacinth was my last model; she was horrific.”

you hear an aghast gasp and do nothing to hide the amusement in your smile.

“it is difficult to sit still!” the youngest bridgerton yells.

“hyacinth, it is not becoming of a young lady to ye— ow!”

you see somewhat in your periphery how kathani puts the hand she used to thwack her husband’s arm back on her teacup handle, smiling. benedict, in the meantime, groans and seems to be focusing even more intently on his sketch as not to make eye contact with his youngest sister.

“yes, i understand it is difficult, but you did not sit still for even eight seconds.”

you have not shifted your position in the past half hour or so as not to ruin the angle of your hand for benedict; but you need not visual confirmation to already know that hyacinth has rolled her eyes in response to her brother and returned to her game.

“well, what about the art academy?” you continue. “there must have been very good models there for you to draw.”

and very beautiful ones, at that.

“it is true, there were; but,” you see him smile as he smudges his paper, “none are comparable to you.”

you feel your cheeks light aflame and, with a cough, focus even more intently on your passage.

“then i ought to give up on my profession as a basket weaver and put in my request as a model at the art academy.”

“you do realize that you would have to pose—” you see how he pauses his drawing, looking to see where the youngest is in the room, and lowers his voice as he leans forward towards you; (you attempt not to roll your eyes), ”—nude, in order to be a model there, y/n.”

“yes, and what issue is there with that?”

you look away from your passage to benedict to make a point with your stare and are startled to see how startled benedict looks, the familiar ocean of his eyes almost entirely gone and replaced by the black of his pupils.

“nothing. there is no issue. no issue at——” he coughs, scratching the back of his ear, no doubt smudging it with charcoal, “would you like to see my progress so far?”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.ii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< in the gardens of number five. penelope, eloise, hyacinth, and gregory are adventurers looking to save the princess benedict from the banshee y/n.

< hidden behind a hedge, y/n and benedict bicker. >

“you are a middle child on a technicality, benedict.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you have seven siblings. anthony the eldest, hyacinth the youngest—and everyone in between simply a middle child? you all could not be more different from one another, and you are at the very top; you are practically an eldest child.”

“i’ll have you know that no one, myself included, sees me as such.”

“i’m familiar. an eldest sibling with a penchant for peculiar tea is not one i would describe with an overwhelming sense of duty.”

“how do you know of that?”

“kathani told me. she recounted to me her first dinner with the family and how transcendently in the most literal sense you had behaved.”

“so you two talk of me?”

you feel the tips of your ears heat, but fortunately your hair hides your embarrassment sufficiently. you roll your eyes.

“is that what you gleaned? do not think too deeply about it.”

“i shall think about it deeply and often,” he states with a twinkle in his eyes. in an attempt to ignore your fluster and flutterings, you roll your eyes again and shove him. he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling adorably whenever he is truly delighted. despite your best efforts (you put in no effort), you smile at him. it cannot be helped when you are around benedict.

“now, make haste; hyacinth is about to cast a spell, and she needs a princess to save. may i grasp your arm?”

“grasp my what?”

“your arm! i need to pretend as if i am holding you captive, but i am not simply going to take hold of it without permission.”

“how chivalrous of you.”

“i suppose i’ve learned from a sufficient enough gentleman.”

benedict grins and offers his arm.

“i am yours for the taking.”

it is preposterous how much this man makes you want to roll your eyes. and how much you welcome it. in the moment, however, you refrain yourself and, instead, smile at him in return as you yank yourselves both out of the hedge to be seen by the others.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.iii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< on a morning before she is off to number five, y/n realizes that her last remaining skirt still needs to be cleaned after she had spilt a bottle of ink on it. (she was devastated by losing so much writing material and money in one fell swoop.) she had been so preoccupied with work that she had forgotten to clean it.

< in a rush, she looks throughout her house for extra skirts but to no avail; the only thing she finds that she can wear is a pair of trousers from when her father was younger. she finds this suitable enough, puts them on, and runs off to bridgerton house.

< upon arriving at the drawing room wearing trousers, y/n hears a choking sound. she looks over and sees that benedict has somehow spilt tea all over himself. as the bridgerton family makes comments of curiosity and support of y/n’s current attire, benedict excuses himself, y/n hearing how he mumbles that he needs to change his clothes.

< after some time, benedict returns, but y/n notices that, aside from removing his coat, he still wears the clothes he was in. she remarks to herself: how can he have been gone for long enough but still be in the same clothes? >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.iv ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you gasp.

“wait!”

you do not wait to hear a response from your companions; you right about turn, swing open the door to number five, and run into the house, straight towards the drawing room.

“benedict!” you shout, “you must come see!”

“wha—“

you grab his hand, pulling him up from his slouched lounge.

“quickly! you must make haste!”

adrenaline and joy rushing in your veins, you lead benedict out of the drawing room and towards the entrance where, upon returning, you see giles, with a large beam on his face, holding open the door. you laugh, shooting him a quick nod and grin of your gratitude, and bring benedict outside, pass penelope and colin, pass the gates of bridgerton house, towards the road, and halt yourself and benedict in place.

you shoot your forefinger outward, pointing towards the sky, your grin ever growing.

“look!”

benedict has been looking at you incredulously, as if you’ve completely lost your mind, and perhaps you have, but you’d be damned if you got to see this and benedict hadn’t. he shifts his gaze and grin from you towards the sky, and as you had expected, as you had hoped, his expression transforms from gleeful confusion into complete awe.

“see? it is just like your palette of ideas! the oranges, the reds, the yellows, the purples, the pinks. here it all is, made by mother nature herself, and you have already managed to capture the hues in the pigments of your paints!” laughter bubbles out of you. “it is amazing! you are amazing!”

you hear a soft buzz in your ear, causing you to turn towards the familiar sound. a bumblebee swirls about your head, and it makes you giggle. you always had a fondness for the sweet creatures; how wonderous one has come to greet you at such a moment! the bee lands on your nose, as if to give you a kiss, causing you to giggle even more, before it departs and flies off into the sky.

as you stare at your departing friend, as you stare into the sorcerous colors of the sunset, as your smile feels permanent in this moment, you ask benedict,

“isn’t it beautiful?”

“yes.”

you turn to benedict, expecting to see his side profile tilted towards the sky when, instead, you connect with his ocean eyes. gazing at you.

your smile fades away as you quietly suck in air through your nose. you feel a soft caress at your hand, and looking down, you see that you are still holding hands with benedict, him gently rubbing the side of your hand with his thumb. you look back up, and with indecipherable ocean eyes and a soft smile on his lips, he still gazes at you. butterflies flutter maddeningly within you. the way he looks at you, it makes you feel scared. but you’d be damned if you allowed your fear to tear yourself away from benedict. so, instead, you smile back and gently rub the side of his hand with your thumb too.

“well!”

you and benedict reel back from one another, letting go of one another’s hands. as you feel the loss of his touch, you whip your head towards the voice and see a smirking colin, by the side of a smiling penelope, both approaching the two of you.

“while i hate to get in the way of two— friends in the midst of a conversation, i must fulfill my duties and escort miss featherington to her home.”

you roll your eyes as you promptly ignore the fire that burns on your cheeks.

“you rich people and your escortings. penelope lives across the way! she would have already been home if you would have let her, colin.”

“yes, that is true,” pipes up penelope, “but then i would have missed out on such a beautiful sight,” and instead of gesturing at the sunset as her words imply, she keeps her eyes locked on you and benedict.

menaces. i am friends with menaces.

with smugness in their smiles and delight in their eyes, penelope and colin nod their heads in farewell. as they move past, you feel a soft squeeze on the side of your arm and see penelope giving you a wink. you stare off at the couple, penelope featherington and colin bridgerton, your absolute menaces of friends who have left you and benedict stunned in spot.

benedict.

benedict!

you turn your head to face him. he must have realized at the same moment as you, for you are greeted by an equally speechless expression. feeling yourself staring into his ocean eyes a moment too long, you cough and look away.

“right, i suppose— i, going— i should be going.”

“of course— yes, that is— right, yes, very good—— not! you going! you going is not— not good! i— we— are more than glad to let you stay!— not let you, but! but have you stay with—— us! stay with us!—”

“benedict,” feeling the instinct to touch his hand again, you hesitate and, instead, touch the side of his arm. you offer him a smile to his (adorably) flustered state. “i understand what you are trying to convey.”

he huffs out a breath and smiles warily in return, and it is truly absurd how beautiful he is when his suave falls away. when he takes off the façade he performs to the world and is just himself. not a bridgerton, not a second eldest son, not a gentleman. just—

benedict.

the one you—— care for.

the one you care for.

the one i care for.

“thank you, y/n,” you hear him say, “for sharing this with me.”

“of course. you were first to come to mind when i saw it.”

“shall i— shall i escort you home?”

you snort, inadvertently breaking whatever odd energy has grown between the two of you, and he grins in response.

“goodness, no. i am fully capable of walking there myself. besides, it is too far from here, unlike miss featherington,” you intonate the last of your words with mockery. you will battle colin bridgerton one day.

“i enjoy a long walk. and with such a beautiful sight, it would be much more a blessing than a burden.”

“daylight is fastly fading; the sunset will not last another eight minutes.”

“yes, the sunset. because that is what i was referring to,” he says as he stares at you with a lopsided grin.

rolling your eyes, and feeling the violent flutterings in your stomach, you shove benedict by his shoulder, which causes him to laugh and throw his hand up in mock surrender.

“good evening, benedict,” you finalize as you walk away, a smile quickly forming on your lips once out of his sight.

“good evening, y/n,” and you hear the smile in his voice.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.v ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“it is here!”

you had just begun to cross your writing when you look up and see kathani enter the drawing room, paper in hand.

“what’s here?” you inquire. the viscountess smiles.

“perhaps you should be the first to see,” and she hands you the sheet.

taking it into your hands, you are immediately struck by the ornate illustrations of flowers and foliage ornamenting the borders—they are printed on! rather than hand drawn. you run your fingers against the paper to test your observation. you’ve only seen such a feat in the books you’ve borrowed from the bridgertons, so it impresses you (though perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me, you remark to yourself) that kathani has found a press to accomplish this feat for her printing.

you then take in the lettering and read,

a ball in titania’s garden court

“come, now a roundel and a fairy song.”

the company of

is requested at bridgerton house, number 5 in grosvenor square, on thursday evening, jul. 6, 1815 at 9 o’clock p. m.

“you helped inspire the theme,” kathani remarks. you look up from the paper to her; her eyes are intently on you.

“me? how so?”

“with our reading of his work, and our conversations with eloise and penelope, he was naturally on my mind when planning for the ball.”

you beam.

“how wondrous! your first ball in the city, and you are bringing the fairies to it,” you turn to the others. “you must tell me how it goes! i’d be delighted to hear what the dresses were like, with the theme and all, and if any larks ensued.”

you note to yourself how penelope will likely know of all of the latter far better than any of the bridgertons, but it would be intriguing, nevertheless, to hear their perspectives. you turn to the viscountess once more, “it is a brilliant idea, kathani. i’m honored to have had some part in it.”

you see her open her mouth in response—

“oh good!”

—when you hear anthony’s voice at the entrance of the drawing room.

“you’ve accepted! that is wonderful news.”

you furrow your eyebrows as he approaches.

“accepted?”

“the invitation. to the ball.”

“what?”

anthony looks around the room to his family and then back to you.

“i— am beginning to think that is not what you were responding to.”

“how quick of you, brother,” deadpans colin.

“i have just entered!”

“and have proceeded to make a fool of yourself,” eloise counters.

“it’s appropriate for the theme, really,” colin turns to kathani. “sister, perhaps you might change the dress to costumes? anthony would make an excellent bottom to your titania.”

“i am—” you start, “still lost.”

kathani gently nods her head to the paper in your hand. you look down again. previously neglecting it for the printed words and illustrations, you now read what is clearly in the viscountess’s handwriting between ‘the company of’ and ‘is requested’:

miss y/n y/l/n.

“this is an invitation. for me.”

you look up from the invitation and are greeted by kathani, and the rest of the bridgerton family at number five, expectantly staring at you.

“but—— but—”

“now, i understand that this might be quite overwhelming,” begins kathani, “but after speaking with the family, we all agreed that it would be most wondrous if you were to attend the ball. we would make certain that you felt prepared, beforehand, with lessons in dance and etiquette, hence why i’ve prepared the invitations earlier than customary.”

“not! to assume that you are not already competent in these,” adds colin. “you certainly have more grace than eloise— ow!” and he rubs the part of his arm eloise just smacked.

“but if it would appease your mind,” violet interjects, “and help with your concurrence, then we would be more than elated to offer them, and to do them with you.”

“your attire would be paid for,” anthony states simply, “and we would pay the business of your employment their missed earnings for the days in which you will be preparing for the ball and resting from the event’s happenings. and, if you shall allow it, we would support you and your family from your abstained days of wages.”

“balls are dreadful,” asserts eloise, “but!” she continues swiftly, and exasperatedly, upon seeing her family’s reaction, “with your presence, this one would certainly be more bearable. pleasant!, even.”

“we,” hyacinth gestures to herself and gregory, “cannot attend the ball, but we will help you in any way we can before then!”

“and we will be there on the morning and afternoon of, if you would like!” gregory exclaims.

kathani was wrong.

this is not quite overwhelming. this is overwhelmingly overwhelming.

you do not even know where to begin in processing all of the information with which you have just been bombarded. the wages, the etiquette, the paying, the attire, the dancing, the days off, the ball itself.

but what strikes you most of all—

“you all… agreed? of wanting me at the ball?”

you look around the drawing room. your friends’ countenances are illuminated with beams. all, but one. you turn to him. he was the only one not to have stated his case in the family’s proposal.

before you can start to ruminate on the implications of such, he offers you a smile. small, but enough for those stupid, stupefying butterflies to flutter within.

“we did,” benedict says. “we do.”

you exhale.

“then,” though weary from the turn of this day, you offer a small smile in return, to benedict, to the family, “then yes. i shall go to the ball.”

hyacinth and gregory nearly knock you over in the chair you’re sat in by the sheer power of their hugs. violet, clapping her hands, laughs with delight at the sight. eloise exclaims something about penelope finding out. anthony states he shall begin the ledger. colin, for whatever reason, starts talking about the cakes that will be there. kathani remarks that there is much to do and that she, and all of the family, will be there every step of the way.

and benedict smiles. still small. still enough. with those damned ocean eyes.

i shall never understand the absurdity that is this family.

and how delighted you are by that. how grateful you are for them.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.vi ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“your rehearsal partners will be myself and gregory,” states the viscount.

you try to withhold your sigh. you have been dreading this day since kathani first told you of it. you are utterly delighted to be a student under the tutelage of the viscountess; you are utterly petrified of being a dance student.

“and why do benedict and i not have the privilege to dance with y/n?”

it also does not quell your petrification that the entirety of number five has decided to be present for your lessons.

“because, colin, you two are unmarried men; i am a married one; and gregory is a child.”

“i have just entered my adolescent years!”

“precisely,” anthony grins, “a child.”

“kathani and hyacinth can be potential partners,” you suggest, diverging as not to join hyacinth in her laughter at gregory’s disgruntlement. despite the anxiety that somehow both swells and knots within you, you are resolute on being intentional and present during your lessons. “the former is married, and the latter is a child.”

anthony opens his mouth to respond but suddenly closes it shut. he blinks.

“why have you not considered eloise?”

“because she is unmarried. i am assuming that you do not want me to partner with colin or benedict, for fear of some sort of— romantic attraction forming. so i’ve applied the same logic to eloise.”

there is a small silence. you can see how anthony (and perhaps the rest of the room, you sense) is busily processing within his mind (and theirs) what you have said to him.

kathani pats her husband twice on his back and smiles at you.

“that is an excellent idea, y/n. we will rotate your partners amongst myself, anthony, gregory, and hyacinth. let us begin.”

and so you do, and it is quite horrendous. or rather, you are quite horrendous.

kathani is, unsurprisingly, a marvelous teacher, but not even she as a guide can prevent you from stepping on her, anthony’s, hyacinth’s, and gregory’s feet. you apologize profusely each time you do so, and so you apologize frequently and often, but each of your partners still smile at you without a drop of deceit or regret in their expressions despite their winces. they encourage you in all their particular ways. kathani gently knocks the foot you stepped on her to where it ought to be placed. anthony pacifies that you are doing well. hyacinth recounts how she had struggled as you when she first began her lessons. gregory assures that you are not nearly as heavy-footed as eloise.

even those who aren’t your partners encourage you. eloise confirms gregory’s statement, not once peeking into the book she holds in her hands. colin claps his hands to help you keep the tempo of the steps. violet, at the pianoforte, enthuses how much progress you are making with each passing dance. penelope, who joined the drawing room part way through a rather disastrous cotillion with anthony, begins to clap her hands excitedly upon seeing you.

the only bridgeton you haven’t heard from the entirety of your lessons is benedict. while rehearsing a sequence in a quadrille with hyacinth, you notice the vacant spot next to eloise where he once sat. you try to feign to yourself that your following misstep is due to your ineptitude in rhythm and nothing else. certainly not the lack of presence of a particular someone.

after you curtsy and kathani bows upon finishing a scotch reel, she beams at you.

“i believe that is enough lessons for today.”

you sigh with every bit of your lungs, your attempt at perfectly squared shoulders immediately slumping in relief. the family chortles in response and gives you a pleasant round of applause. you feel your cheeks go flush with embarrassment, completely unbelieving that your horrific display of dancing deserves any sort of praise, but the sentiment warms your heart.

“i would like to pardon myself, if that is all right,” you request towards kathani, “for a moment, is all.”

“yes, of course,” and she takes your hand. “and we do mean it, y/n. you have done well today. you should be proud.”

before you can respond to her, she gives a gentle squeeze of your hand and turns to walk towards anthony. blinking, you shake your head out of your thoughts. the bridgertons and penelope seem to respect your want of excusing yourself as they grin or nod their heads in your direction but make no move towards you. you take a moment more to look at the family and then turn to leave the drawing room. you cannot help the smile that blooms on your face as you cross the entrance—

when a hand catches your wrist and pulls you further away from the drawing room. you are about to scream when you see benedict, with furrowed eyebrows and pleading ocean eyes, swiftly put his forefinger to his pursed lips.

“fuckin’— benedict!” you whisper-yell, attempting to honor benedict’s unspoken request for your silence. “are you mad? and why are you out here? have you been here this entire time?”

“may i speak with you? in private?”

the urgency in his whisper stupefies you, any frustration felt within fading away.

“of course you may.”

he slides his hand down from your wrist to take your hand—

“follow me.”

—and, with haste, leads you down the corridor and up a set of stairs.

“are you certain this is all right? the last time we had spoken alone together, you were scolded by your brother.”

“i am more than willing to take that risk with you,” benedict says sincerely, with a smile, but it is strained. it is a subtlety, but with knowing him for as long as you have now, it is something you have noticed in his expressions.

“are you all right, benedict?”

he promptly ignores your question. it is unlike benedict, to ignore one of your inquiries. to retort with a snarky quip, yes; to make a particularly theatrical countenance, yes; to respond with uncertainty, yes. but never outright, deliberate evasion. it makes your heart swell even more with worry.

you and benedict arrive at a set of grand doors. turning the gilded knob, he opens the door and, in true gentlemanly fashion, holds it for you to pass. such etiquette would have caused you to roll your eyes, but with benedict’s current distress, you will yourself to refrain.

just as you enter the room, benedict enters too, turns around, and carefully closes the door shut. he reaches into his pocket and, after some shuffling about, retrieves a key. you hear a click of the door, and before you can comment on the absolute peculiarity of this situation thus far, benedict whips himself around and faces you.

“do you have attraction to both sexes?”

“i— what?”

“do you have attraction to both sexes?” he repeats with impatience.

“to all persons,” you correct with equal impatience. “and yes, i do.”

benedict blinks at your response but shakes his head out of his thoughts.

“and how long, how long have you known? of your attractions?”

“‘of my attractions’?”

“i am asking a question, y/n!”

“you are being strange, benedict!”

“i am!—” and he turns away from you, running his hands through his hair, sucking in air through his nostrils. he turns back to you and it startles you—how frustrated his countenance is, and how vulnerable his ocean eyes are.

“i am merely trying to ask a question. i am trying to understand. please, y/n,” benedict begs. “please.”

“i— all right,” you try to soothe. “i, i don’t know how long i have known. i suppose, since i was a child? or, perhaps, truly in my adolescent years, when i found myself gazing at those with names like emily and andrew and how i—” you swallow, suddenly feeling exposed, “how i held my breath around them, whenever they were close, when— whenever they were near.”

“and do you still feel that way?”

“pardon?”

“do you still feel that way? around people? for people?”

just for the one.

“i, i do.”

after staring at you a moment more, benedict turns away again, and you quickly exhale a breath—when you’re stricken with a sudden fear.

“does this change your opinion of me?”

benedict turns back to you, frustration still in his features but confusion slowly seeping into them.

“when i—” am i crying? “when i told my sister how i felt for a girl in our neighborhood, she did not—” you try to shake your head of the fog that starts to fill your mind at remembering, “did not look at me for weeks, and when she did, i felt like, like—— like a monster.”

his face falls.

“no,” benedict states, fastly approaching you, “no, no, no, y/n.”

“i am sorry,” you choke out as he places his hands on the sides of your arms.

“why are you apologizing?” benedict whispers, applying pressure to where he holds you steady. you had not realized you’ve been shaking.

“you had asked me questions, these questions of importance to you, and i— i have made it about myself— i am so sorry, benedict.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.”

you shut your eyes close, feeling your face contort in the way it does when everything simply becomes too much for you to bear.

“you were, and are, so much more courageous than me.”

benedict’s gentle voice and strange statement rouse you to open your eyes.

“i do not understand?”

“you have told another person about your attractions to both— to all persons. i…”

he goes quiet, unable to finish his thought aloud. you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, but staring into his ocean eyes a moment more—vulnerable, scared, hurting—it dawns on you.

oh.

benedict.

your heart blooms as you shake your head.

“it is not about courage, benedict, i do not think. with my sister, it was about trust. i thought i could trust her with my feelings, with— well, with me. and she had proved me wrong.”

“and you have proved me right.”

“why are you speaking so vaguely today?” you manage to jest.

benedict rolls his eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“and you have proved me right in that i could trust you. and i do, y/n. i trust you with— with me.”

perhaps you should have thought better of it, but your emotions move faster than your logic, and your emotions call you to reach out your hand and cup benedict’s cheek as you see tears line his ocean eyes.

“as i trust you with me.”

you do not mean to do it; perhaps it’s the intimacy of your conversation, perhaps it’s the proximity of standing so close, perhaps it’s the way you can feel his bated breath mix with yours, but your eyes flicker down at benedict’s parted lips and, swallowing, you look back into his piercing, indecipherable ocean eyes and breathe,

“benedict—”

when a loud sequence of knocks thud at the locked door.

“oh god!” and you take off, running away from benedict and looking about the room when your eyes fall upon a wardrobe.

“what are you doing!” benedict whisper-shouts at you as you hasten towards your destination.

“i am trying to prevent you from being in trouble again with a certain eldest brother, and you ought to be doing the same!”

you open the door to the wardrobe, hop into it, and, grabbing the door’s edge, look at benedict and the adorable shock on his face.

“answer the door as i hide in here!” before he can babble out a response, you whisper-yell, “go!” and promptly, quietly, shut the wardrobe.

before long, you muffedly hear the clicking of the door and it being opened. there is a bit of quiet until gregory’s voice asks—

“what happened to your hair?”

“what of it?”

“it is a mess. it has not been that messy since—”

“nevermind my hair! what is it that you need?”

“have you seen y/n?”

“what? why would i know of y/n’s whereabouts?”

“do not play foolish, brother.”

“i am not playing foolish!”

“you two are always together! you and y/n are like eloise and penelope, anthony and kate, colin and food— you never see one without the other, and she hasn’t been seen since her lessons.”

“i have not seen her; does that answer your inquiry?”

“why are you so on guard! ugh, never you mind. hyacinth and i will look for her on our own, with no thanks to you.”

before benedict can retort, you hear footsteps walking away from him and down the corridor. there is another moment of quiet before you hear the shutting of the door and the turning of the key. you slowly open the wardrobe, and when you see a disgruntled benedict and benedict only, you hop out and walk towards him, unable to contain the growing smile on your face.

“you shouldn’t be so harsh on gregory. he was, after all, merely asking a question.”

“you’re taking his side?”

“of course i am. he, along with hyacinth, are my favorite bridgertons.”

“and where do i fall on this list of yours?”

“eighth,” you reply easily, and benedict’s jaw drops, “but that’s merely on a technicality— i have yet to met daphne and francesca.”

“what have i done to be thought of so little in your regard!” benedict’s expression is aghast, but you see the ghost of a smile on his lips (that you certainly do not stare at for another moment too long).

“do not mistake your low ranking in how i care for you,” you tease but then soften, unable to keep up the lark over your truth. “i care for you, benedict. for all of you. precisely as you are and what you feel and who you—” you swallow, “whoever you love.”

the jest and play fade away from his expression. benedict simply stares at you, ocean eyes once again indecipherable. before he can say anything, you step into his space and tidy his hair.

“you ruined your coif earlier,” you whisper.

“what fortune i have for someone to care for me so.”

his smile is so sweet, his voice so sincere, his ocean eyes so gentle. it is too much, it is so much.

“if you weren’t such a mischief maker,” you diverge, “you wouldn’t need such fortune.”

that makes him scoff, and you grin, quietly glad a new emotion begins to overtake your overwhelming one.

“wise words coming from a mischief maker herself.”

“a mischief maker who knows how to handle her trouble,” you respond pointedly. “speaking of which, i must be going,” and you turn from benedict and head towards the windows.

“and where are you going?” you hear the befuddled amusement in his inquiry as he follows you. you unlatch a window.

“i must leave by way of window and make it appear as if i have been out in the gardens this entire time,” you carefully open the window and peer outside. no one in sight. pleased, you turn around and are greeted by an adorably perplexed benedict. “how else will we deceive the family into believing that we were not alone together? particularly after gregory inquired after me and found you here. it would not help our situation if we left the same room, even if at staggered times.”

“this is not the first time you have escaped home,” he declares matter-of-factly.

“of course it’s not.”

“yet another thing we have in common.”

you snort but then cover your mouth. you turn around and peer out the window, hoping, willing that no one has heard you. no one in sight still. you sigh in relief and turn back to a grinning benedict.

“you are compromising my meticulous plans.”

“then you ought to be going. i shan’t compromise you any further.”

you roll your eyes deeply, ignoring the double entendre (and the flush you feel creeping across your face), but soften.

“will you be all right? are you all right?”

benedict inhales deeply and exhales equally so.

“i—— have much to think over. of myself. to myself. but, it is a comfort to know that i am not alone in this. in this experience, the feelings themselves, as well as in the navigation of them,” the corners of benedict’s mouth tug into a gentle but most radiant smile, his ocean eyes incandescent with joy. “thank you, y/n.”

the butterflies flutter violently within.

“i, i have done nothing.”

“you have done more than you know.”

unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze, you turn back to the open window and steady your hands onto the sides of the frame, leveraging your weight against the ledge to lift yourself up.

“be that as it may,” you assert perhaps too forcefully, “i truly must be going now.”

you carefully but easily shift your body over the ledge and place your boot against the exterior side of bridgerton house to start your descent. you should just go—leave and neglect the violence of feelings within you. but you do not. instead, you look up and are greeted by the sight of benedict at the window, hands also steadied on the ledge, body leaning towards the outside and downwards, beaming at you, the afternoon sun casting light upon his now even more beautiful countenance.

shit.

you will yourself to focus.

“if you need or wish to speak again on this, you will let me know, yes?”

he still smiles but you see the subtlety of his ocean eyes transforming, from delight to… something else. you don’t know what, benedict’s ocean eyes ever indecipherable in moments such as this, and it does nothing to quiet the flutterings within.

“i shall. and hopefully in a manner that does not require your escape.”

“oh, this is nothing.”

“of course it’s not.”

you smile broadly, a particular burst of fondness and play and courage overcoming you—

“farewell, princess.”

and you begin your descent down bridgerton house.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.vii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< kathani and y/n make a day of getting y/n a dress for the bridgerton ball. they meet first at bridgerton house early in the morning, before the rest of the family is awake. they break fast together, and kathani teaches y/n how to make masala chai. y/n remarks that how kathani speaks of indian drink and food reminds y/n of how her parents talk about their drink and food from their home country.

< the conversation then grows into talking about how much the ocean intrigues y/n because of how her parents have talked about it, especially in their stories of emigrating to england by ship. the mystery, beauty, comfort, fear, and joy of the ocean all in one entity.

< the conversation then shifts to kathani and y/n talking about the scrappiness of making do with what resources you have access to. it makes y/n recount a memory with her mama when she had offered to give up buying ink, quills, and paper to support the family once her elder sister had married and left their family home. >

“it is a hobby, mama, it—”

“it is important, she says pointedly. “it is your passion.” and she smiles. “we have managed once with just my and papa’s wages, we shall manage now. you need not worry, my child.”

< eventually, kathani and y/n finish their breakfast. they leave bridgerton house and hop into a bridgerton carriage to go to the modiste. it is the first time y/n is in a carriage and it is a surreal, lovely experience. it feels like a fairytale. >

–

< after arrival at the modiste and introductions, kathani decides to roam the markets of the neighborhood as madame delacroix tends to y/n in the back of the shop. >

“madame delacroix—”

“clients call me madame delacroix,” she interrupts. you feel shame flood your body. of course. you are not a client. you are a charity case. at the whims of this wealthy family that has bestowed their pity on you. how else would you be in such a position, in such a shop, before such a talented artist revered by the upper echelons of london. you’re a fool, you wish to run away, you must go when you hear what madame delacroix says next—and she’s smiling.

“friends, however, call me genevieve,” she remarks with a wink.

…

“now, y/n, how would you feel about me being,” genevieve flourishes her hand in the air, “experimental with your dress?”

a combination of fear and excitement perk up within you.

“how do you mean?”

“the ton are quite—” she seems to fight hard not to roll her eyes but admits defeat to a sigh, “—conservative in their fashion—”

“you mean dreadfully dull?” you chime in. genevieve laughs warmly.

“exactly, my dear,” she grins. “you, however, are anything but. i see the french silhouettes more fitting to your character, to your personality, to your spark.”

you feel overwhelmed by the kindness of words that flow easily from the mouth of your new friend. you have not known each other for more than ten minutes, and she seems to see something within you. it makes you feel self-conscious, undeserving, and incredibly proud.

“i would be honored to be graced with the true magnificence of your artistry, genevieve.”

your friend’s eyes shine with joy, and you cannot help but feel utterly delighted that you were the one to ignite such happiness within her.

“my dear, the ton will be green with envy at the sight of you. with your natural beauty and with my vision, you shall be an unstoppable force.”

you furrow your eyebrows at “natural beauty.” you open your mouth to comment—

“is there any person you are looking to,” she hums, looking for the right word while looking for her measuring tape, “impress?”

“no,” you lie. “i would not know anyone aside from the bridgertons and penelope.”

“ah, yes. miss penelope,” the modiste says with much fondness in her heart. “she is quite brilliant, is she not?”

you beam. “she truly is.”

“though,” genevieve ponders, wrapping the tape around your waist, “she is rather besotted with the third eldest bridgerton.”

“oh, yes, it is very appar— wait. why do you say that?”

genevieve shrugs, but you give it more thought.

“are you implying that i have affections for penelope?”

you love penelope. she has come to be one of your closest friends, and my god she is beautiful inside and out—but you have never felt an inkling for her beyond platonic love.

“i imply nothing—i’ve just said she’s besotted with the third eldest, did i not?” genevieve plays coy with a smile. “and the viscount, he is very in love with the viscountess.”

“are you now implying that i have affections for anthony?”

you feel your entire body shudder. the idea of having any sort of love for the eldest bridgerton beyond one that is platonic makes you want to— the very thought—

you put one hand to your mouth and the other to your stomach. genevieve laughs, delighted by this game she’s inflicting upon you and entirely unperturbed by your potential sick in her shop.

“so,” she continues on, “with mister colin and lady kate and their beaus eliminated, unless you are of the temptress kind—”

“no!”

“then,” laughs genevieve, “that leaves three—”

“what do you mean ‘three’!”

“y/n, please, you are a terrible liar. you have affections for one of your friends, that is clear.”

“i do not!” you lie again. she tilts her chin down, looking at you pointedly.

“as i was saying, that leaves three. there is miss francesca, miss eloise, and mister benedict.”

you feel yourself take in a small breath through your nostrils as you hear his name, and you pray that genevieve does not notice.

“aha!” she declares. your prayer has failed. there is no god. “ah, yes, mister benedict bridgerton. the second eldest.”

you hold back a groan, not wanting to give your friend evidence to her (very much correct) claim, so instead you lift your head towards the ceiling. when you snap it back down to look at her, you are startled by how her delighted expression from a mere moment ago has molded into an expression you cannot figure out.

“y/n, you must know,” she states, with so much sincerity in her tone. you are entirely confused by this shift in genevieve, and your confusion only intensifies when she gently takes your hand into both of hers.

“benedict and i... we had been acquainted— intimately, at one point.”

oh.

“oh,” you respond pathetically.

the words should not affect you. they should not affect you. they should— not— affect you.

but—

you huff out a laugh.

“genevieve, why are you sharing this? it’s all ri—”

“i share this with you,” she replies in earnest, “because while intimate, and yes, even passionate—” you try not to wince, “—it was brief and, most of all, not of depth,” she sighs. “but i can only speak for myself, can i?”

you swallow, hoping it will cure your dry throat, and with a smile say, “he is very lucky to have won your affections.”

“my dear.”

genevieve removes one of her hands from yours and brings it to the side of your face, softly wiping away a tear on your cheek. you hadn’t noticed you had started crying. you close your eyes, weak by and ashamed at the frailty of your heart, as you lean into the comfort of your friend’s hand.

after a few moments, you feel her hand leave your cheek and feel your chin held between her thumb and forefinger, lifting up your head. you open your eyes.

“anything i felt for him, i feel for him no more, y/n. he is lucky to have your affections,” genevieve declares. “and if benedict is an intelligent man, he must feel the same for you.”

you laugh.

“benedict is a beautiful person who attracts beautiful people. i am not a beautiful person.”

it is peculiar, how genevieve’s eyes flood with hurt as if you have offended her. what did you say that has hurt her so? you were only speaking of yourself. before you can think further on it, the modiste steels her expression, fire suddenly blazing her eyes.

“well! then i must prove to you what you fail to see, my dear! i dare you not to feel beautiful in the dress i make for you. and if you doubt your beauty,” she peers at you, “will you doubt my artistry?”

you laugh, this time sincerely, radiating gratitude for your new friend.

“it would be foolish to doubt your artistry.”

genevieve beams.

“exactly.”

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ II.viii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you kick your feet off again, swinging yourself back and surging forward as you look up at the stars. you try not to make too much noise. you know it’s not proper to ambledly hang about your host’s back garden at night as they all slumber. you feel as though you are taking advantage of the bridgertons’ kindness in allowing a pauper like you to stay the night at their home, in allowing you any time to stay at their home since making their acquaintance, in allowing—— you sigh again. you could not sleep. restlessness has entirely consumed you, and you had decided that some fresh air and some childlike fun would be exactly what you needed to calm your nerves. while the cool air and the beauty of the night have been a welcomed reprieve, your heart still pounds and your mind still races with anxiety over the ball tomorrow night.

“couldn’t sleep?”

you slam the heels of your boots into the ground as you hear the familiar voice, doing everything in your power to ignore the flutters of butterflies in your stomach upon hearing it, and fall over onto your knees, planting your hands into the dirt so as not to completely and embarrassingly plant your face there instead. you hear the body of the voice rushing towards you, offering his hand in your periphery. you look up as benedict’s soft ocean eyes stare into you. feeling your cheeks flood with warmth, you take your dirtied palm into his, promptly ignore the lightning that shoots out from the touch to the rest of your body, and lift yourself up with benedict’s gentlemanly assistance. you murmur your thanks as you dust off, in vain, the dirt on your nightdress.

“i did not mean to startle you.”

“well, you have very clearly failed at that,” you remark.

after one last whoosh about your knees to clear off the excess dirt, you look up at benedict and are startled by the utter sincerity of his concerned look. he looks as if he is about to say something, as if he is about to apologize, when you offer him a smile.

“i’m teasing you, benedict.”

he blinks once before breaking out into a smile, a smile that forcefully summons the butterflies within you to flutter about once again, and laughs. you cannot help but smile and laugh with him.

“may i have the honor of sitting with you, miss y/l/n?”

you roll your eyes.

“it is your home after all, you need not my permission.”

“am i to ignore the privacy a lady wishes to have?”

“a lady’s privacy, i am sure, is something you wish to have for yourself,” you retort, alluding to your lack of such a title.

he swallows.

“that is something i cannot deny.”

something shifts in the air as benedict stares at you. you feel yourself holding your breath and, in an attempt to shift away the energy from whatever this— this is (and how much it thrills and terrifies you), you playfully curtsy as you gesture to the swing next to the one that you had occupied.

“i would be delighted by your company, mr. bridgerton.”

the overwhelming gentleness of benedict’s expression transforms into an amused smile, and he follows along with an exaggerated bow of his head. you take a seat at your swing as he takes his seat at the other on your left.

“i couldn’t,” you say in reply to his first question. before he can ask why, you hastily jump into your inquiry. “and why are you up?”

“i was sketching. i had an idea for a painting and wished to lay out the preliminary work before it escaped me,” he sighs heavily, turning to look out to the rest of the garden. you feel the loss of his gaze. “i was frustrated with the results and thought some fresh air would do me some good.”

“what is the idea for your painting?”

he hesitates.

“a portrait,” he seems to admit carefully. feeling how benedict wishes not to be pressed further, you simply hum an affirmation in response.

“i am certain that your sketch is not nearly as horrendous as you think it is.”

“i appreciate your kindness, but it entirely lacked their spark.”

“you seem quite fond of this person,” you huff with a bit of a laugh, jealousy starting to pool in the pit of your stomach.

benedict smiles.

“i am.”

and he turns to look at you.

you swallow, averting your gaze from soft intense ocean eyes, and kick your feet off the ground to begin a gentle swing.

“you should continue with the portrait,” you rattle on in a hasty attempt at diversion. “not only are you blessed with natural talent but you are also fueled with such a passionate determination to ever improve your skill because that is how much you love your craft. an undying devotion to something for which you so deeply care. it is admirable and extremely apparent in all that you do.”

“and what of you?”

“and what of me?”

“of your passions?”

you scoff.

“my passions?”

“your writing.”

you halt your swing and whip your head to benedict. he is grinning with stupid satisfaction, and you would find a way to wipe it off his stupid (beautiful) face if you were not so aghast by the situation.

“how do you know of that?”

“well, whenever you are not reading or conversing with eloise, penelope, and kate; or playing make-believe with my youngest siblings; or squabbling with colin and anthony, you are busily writing in a folded quarto. or, rather, crossing in a folded quarto. crossing twice, if you can manage. you are quite the prolific writer.”

you gape at him, and he continues to grin.

“eloise also told me.”

“she told you!” you shriek.

“indeed. it is, after all, how you met penelope, apparently. and penelope is how you met eloise. and eloise is how we— how you met the rest of us.”

you slump in your swing.

“i feel betrayed.”

benedict laughs heartily, and you shoot him a glare. he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“she was merely sharing a fact.”

“she is merely a traitor.”

benedict laughs once again, and you summon all the strength within you not to choke it out from his lungs.

“you seem not to handle perception of yourself very well, y/n.”

“when you are me, it is easy not to be perceived,” you mumble, still reeling from the traitorous nature of your loudmouthed friend.

there is a small silence.

“i do not think that is true.”

you turn to him, once again surprised by the gentleness of his sincerity.

“i see you,” benedict declares in a quiet but steadfast voice. his ocean eyes, indecipherable once more, gaze into you.

you feel yourself hold your breath, unable to stop the truth from ringing out in your heart, mind, body, and soul.

i love you.

you shoot up from your swing.

“i must be going, it is quite late—”

“y/n, wait—”

“thank you, benedict,” you say sincerely, turning to him. “i— i really enjoyed our conversation, as brief as it was.”

he blinks and offers you a small smile. i must control myself, you reprimand as you feel the butterflies viciously flutter within.

“as did i.”

“good night,” you whisper. with all the self-control you can muster, you turn away from benedict and hasten towards bridgerton house.

“good night, y/n,” you vaguely hear him say from the swings that brought you together. you attempt to tune out the wistfulness that you hear, that you imagine you hear in his voice.

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ellalalala · 1 month

Text

By your name (all the stars, rivers, cities)

Akademiya! Zandik is probably my favorite version of Dottore but also one that I really struggle to write. If he's ooc here, close your eyes <3 Not proofread lol out of sight out of mind Fluff, mutual pining inspired by one of my favorite songs - Твоим именем by Svidaniye Also on AO3

You prayed he didn't notice the trembling of your hands.

Zandik hadn't spoken a word to you since he opened his leather-bound journal, opting instead to sketch the ruin golem that was nestled between the tall hills of Ardravi Valley. You'd robbed yourself of the privilege of observing him in his element; the close proximity between the two of you made you nervous. It felt dangerous to observe your surroundings, to move your limbs, and so you sat frozen beside him, afraid that Zandik would become suspicious of you.

The reason for your shyness was clear as day: Zandik had never allowed you to come this close before, always rejecting your goodwill with the apprehension of someone who had only ever known cruelty. But now, the blanket you sat on was barely big enough to fit both of you, and Zandik didn't seem to mind; not the way your thighs touched, nor the way your shoulders bumped. You imagined that his soft curls would brush against your cheek if he were to turn his head to the side - and that thought only served to fluster you even more.

How is he so calm, you wondered, when we've never been this close before?

You were frustrated with yourself. So much time had been spent by his side - studying, drinking coffee, wandering the lush expanses of the rainforest - yet you still felt deeply, indescribably nervous. Anxiety sank into your bones and jumbled your mind; you knew why, had known for weeks, but it was impossible to accept. How could you?

Your focus shifted to the Sumeru rose in your hand. Zandik picked it for you on your way to your favorite picnic spot - the hill that overlooked Vimara village - and said the simple words, "for your book". You accepted the flower with a polite "thank you", heart fluttering in your chest when he gave you a faint smile - the sight forever etched in your mind.

It was meant to be pressed between the pages of your favorite book. You didn't have the heart to do it, though; damaging a rose given to you by Zandik felt wrong. Even if his actions carried no underlying implications, it didn't matter. You wanted to keep it. Once you returned to your dorm, you would place this delicate rose in a small vase and ensure it survived a few more days.

You twirled it between your fingers. A little more time and this embarrassment would end. Zandik would forget you behaved this way, engrossed in his research, and you would be the sole person to carry the burden of remembering every second you spent fiddling with the hem of your shirt, too shy to move from the spot beside your friend.

Friend. The word tasted sour in your mouth.

"You're eerily quiet today," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"

This time, you had no choice but to look at him. Zandik had long finished drawing. The journal lay on his lap, open to reveal a surprisingly detailed illustration of the ruin golem across the river. Your breath nearly hitched when your eyes met Zandik's.

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

You felt small under his gaze; he observed you as if you were something interesting - one of those ruin mechanisms that he so adored. You couldn't take it.

You pointed at his journal, "the drawing turned out so well."

"It's a simple sketch, really. But that ruin golem lying ahead... it is the pinnacle of human wisdom. Isn't it awe-inspiring?"

His ruby eyes glimmered with excitement; the sort that only awakened when Zandik spoke about his interests. It warmed your heart - it always did - but this time, the close proximity between your faces was enough to make you blush.

You smiled, "yes, it is."

"I am set to join an investigation team as a trainee dastur soon," Zandik said, "we will conduct field research near that golem. If I'm lucky, we'll even study its interior..."

He gazed ahead, no doubt imagining the discoveries he would make. This was what he lived for - refining his understanding of the world around him, its inner workings. You would never be...

Stupid, stupid thoughts. Weren't you just his friend?

"You'll have to tell me all about it," you said. That was appropriate. That wouldn't raise any questions. Zandik loved to talk about his research and he loved to talk about it with someone who cared. You just so happened to care more than anyone.

Zandik looked at you with newfound delight. It all came back to you then: the proximity between the two of you, the rose in your hand, his smile. How were you supposed to understand any of this? When his arm brushed against yours, his thigh pressed against your own and his lips were only inches away from yours - how would a stranger look at this?

Doesn't matter, you thought, because it means nothing. He's just my friend.

"A pity you can't join."

Not the words you expected to hear from Zandik, of all people. Your brain must have short-circuited, for you couldn't form a single coherent thought as you watched him casually put his journal away like he hadn't just...

Your cheeks tinted red. A cruel voice in your head told you that Zandik would definitely miss you, think of you whenever you weren't by his side.

"Well, a Rtawahist student has no use in field research..." you mumbled, making Zandik huff in amusement.

"It has nothing to do with your darshan."

A thousand different thoughts swarmed in your head. "Then what?"

He didn't give his answer just yet. Zandik chose to inspect you once more as if to fluster you - and though it worked exceedingly well, you couldn't bring yourself to look away, captivated by his boyish charm.

Zandik looked so utterly serene; olive skin bathed in the soft light of the evening sun, soft cyan hair tousled by the warm breeze. The corners of his thin lips were tilted upwards in a roguish smirk, and your poor, frail heart was threatened to give out. It still made no sense to you: how anyone could look at Zandik and see a monster.

He exhaled softly, "your behavior these past few weeks was puzzling. My initial assumption was that you had grown to fear me, just like the others..." Zandik reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jawline, "but the answer has become a bit clearer now."

Your breath hitched. He knew. He knew the truth, had guessed it long ago, and you - ever the fool - were oblivious all along.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, ashamed beyond compare; for even with the possibility of your feelings being unrequited, you reveled in the way his fingertips warmed your skin.

"Sorry? I never said you had to be sorry."

Zandik sat impossibly close. He cupped your cheek and watched you melt into his touch.

"But it's a bother, isn't it?" You asked, to which Zandik blinked owlishly before chuckling - a saccharine melody that you wanted to keep in your memory forever.

He gazed at you fondly, in a way he never had before, "would I keep spending my time with you if I thought you were a bother?"

"I guess not," you breathed, painfully aware of the tiny distance between the two of you. It felt unreal; you doubted you fully comprehended his words, lost in Zandik's touch as you were.

You could kiss him. The idea baffled you, making the words ring in your head, over and over, I can kiss him, I can kiss him, I can kiss him.

By the looks of it, Zandik had similar thoughts but enough self-control to hold back. You, on the other hand, lacked the courage to go through with your idea, and so you sat basking in his tender touches like you would never feel them again.

You couldn't ask for anything more, anyway.

#il dottore #il dottore x reader #zandik x reader #dottore x reader #zandik #dottore #genshin impact #my writing #ao3 #finally done omfg i'm gonna go reward myself with dinner loool

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r0ttenhearts · 1 year

Text

Like A Dog

mentor!alhaitham x student!reader

angst, no comfort, insults, suggestive content, fem presenting reader

part 2

you sighed, tapping your pencil on the thick book alhaitham had brought you. he knew you were struggling with astronomy so he has brought you one of his textbooks to study, much to your dismay.

you glanced up to see alhaitham sitting on the bay of his window, a book in his hand as he didn’t pay you any mind.

you huffed out, a stray hair blowing out of your face as you do so. you reluctantly took another look at your textbook as you remembered why you were here. the large sum of mora your childhood friend, alhaitham, had given your mother as she threatened to throw you out into the streets for the drunk bastards to have. simply because you did not wish to follow in her footsteps.

so now here you were, sharing a cozy home with alhaitham and his roommate, kaveh. you enjoyed the rather simple life you had with them, it was a stark contrast to life at home. if you could call it that.

but even then, alhaitham had been a little.. hard on you, when it came to your studies. his sharp words that would bring tears to your eyes, or his way of pretending you weren’t there. it hurt the same.

if you did well? then.. you’d be greeted with his tongue lapping at your heat in the middle of the night, or the comfort of his warm bed as he held your bare form.

today would not be one of those days.

you were lost in your thoughts as you heard a loud thump on the table you were seated in. you jumped, looking up to see the gray-haired scribe looking down at you with an annoyed expression on his face.

“really, y/n? it’s that difficult for you to concentrate on one thing at once? must i help you do everything?”

you looked down at your lap, shaking your head as you felt his eyes bore into you. he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“it’s as if you intend to prove to me how helpless you are. you can’t grasp the basic concepts of astronomy, even after i give you my detailed explanations and notes. just what can you do y/n? draw silly pictures that have no value? is that it?”

you heart sinks as you look up at him from your lap. silly pictures that have no value? the very drawings you’d sketch and perfect for him that he’d hang up in his office and around your shared home?

your art was important to you and he knew how much it was, being one of your only hobbies you’d brought along from home. one of the only things you felt proud in. and he stomped on it like it was nothing.

kaveh heard the commotion and stood in the doorway, shaking his head at alhaitham with a look of sadness and anger in his eyes.

“not now, kaveh. can’t you see i’m teaching our little house pet a lesson? since clearly she’s incapable of doing anything but that.”

alhaitham smirked as he stood right next to your shaking form, your hands clasped together in your lap as you kept your gaze down. he knelt down slightly as so he could be directly in your ear.

“that’s right, y/n. you’re nothing but a dog. you follow me around, depend on me shamelessly, and i can’t help but look at you with distaste. you love me unconditionally, you cannot deny it. i know that after i say these things to you, you’ll still come into my office with another stupid picture in your hands, ready to annoy me once again.”

he scoffs as he sees your tears spill from your eyes and into your lap.

“i’m right aren’t i, y/n? i promise you, you don’t hold much worth to me. you’re just a dog i picked up and took pity on. i could return you to your mother at any instant so she could sell you off to those—“

“that’s enough alhaitham.”

kaveh shouts as he strides into the room, taking your hand gently as he leads you away from alhaitham. your feet shuffle on the hard, wooden floor as he takes you to your room. the second the both of you sit on your bed you erupt into sobs, clutching kaveh tightly as you sob into his shoulder.

“w-why, kaveh..? why must he be so cruel to me?” you cry out as he gently rubs your back.

“it’s okay, y/n. you shouldn’t do so much for him you know? take some time for yourself.”

you nodded as you sniffled, your tears slowly stopping as you drift off to sleep with kaveh soothing your breaking heart.

kaveh sighed, pulling your covers over you as he left your room. alhaitham stood on the wall adjacent to your bedroom door, scoffing as he saw kaveh exit it.

“what?”

“took to comforting poor y/n? give me a break, she’ll get over it.”

kaveh shook his head, putting a finger against alhaitham’s chest. he grit his teeth in anger as he spoke.

“you have no right to treat her this way. she cares so much for you and you treat her like your colleagues! i understand that you have a thing for knocking people down, but don’t do that to her. not after how much she does around here, especially for you.”

alhaitham walks off with his hand waving kaveh off dismissively. you’d get over it right? just like every other time? but somehow this time was.. different. not only was kaveh there, but you let your tears fall in front of him, something you always hid from him when his words ripped you apart.

alhaitham dismisses these thoughts, figuring it’ll be fine and he’ll see you in his office later with another one of your paintings to show off to him.

but that time didn’t come.

your cherry greetings turned into cold indifference as you mumbled one word replies to his attempts to talk to you. you stopped coming to alhaithams office and opted to stay in kaveh’s room while he fussed over his blueprints.

your presence lacking in his life was not something he thought he would lose, but there he stood, hand raised against your door as he hesitated to knock.

“i shouldn’t have called you those things y/n.. you weren’t a dog to me, but my lover.”

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham smut

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luvkuvi · 1 year

Text

You're a distraction !

In where scara claims you're a distraction when studying

Gn! reader, artist! scara,just fluff hehe

"That's wrong"

"You aren't even looking ?!"

He let out a sigh as he closed his notebook and snatched yours. "This is basic shit I already gave you my notes and you're still stuck on that question. talk to me when you got it all figured out" He then carelessly threw your notebook back to you. Why did you even ask him to help you!

"Well, I would've gotten that right if you just taught me properly" You crumbled up a piece of paper filled with your solutions. "You have my notebook read it" He narrowed his eyes at you as he continued to doodle something in his notebook.

"You're not even doing your work, how can you possibly know that my answer was wrong and not right!" he just shrugged it off and continued doodling. "You're distracting me." That was your last straw, how can you distract him when he's basically slacking off!

"What are you even drawing ?!" you snatched the notebook off his hand making him gasp "Give it back you–" "Oh"

The page was a sketch of you with furrowed brows while reading a notebook with scribbles on the side. "aww is this what you mean that I'm distracting you!" A noticeable blush crept up his face. You continue to flip through the pages seeing more sketches of you, some unfinished, some finished but it is a fact that he's been drawing you for a while. As you were engrossed in the pages he tore the notebook off your fingertips with a huff and a blush.

Silence was shared between you, neither wanting to speak up first but you figured out he was too embarrassed to even say anything. "Well i th–" "I don't care what you think." he narrowed his eyes at you as he put the notebook back on the table. You giggled at his reaction. He can be so cute yet so stubborn.

"I think it's beautiful" he slowly looked up at you, his blush slightly faded but with your following words the blush came back in a second "I liked your drawings scara! I think it's beautiful" You gave him a warm smile

He swore he wanted to draw you again. At this moment you looked just so beautiful. "W-Whatever…it's not like I asked for your opinion anyway.." But deep down he loved the idea of him loving his drawings.

He then cleared his throat sitting down on the table again "J-Just finish the assignment." you nodded sitting down again as Scara picked up his pencil once more.

#scaramouche x you #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scara #genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche imagines #genshin imapct #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n

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staarboyyy · 8 months

Note

YAYYY YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

I was wondering if you could maybe write something about y/n being an apprentice and Hoffman flirts with them even knowing they are in a relationship with Amanda 😧 It goes on for a while and Amanda gets tired of it, gets really jealous and yells at Hoffman then takes y/n back to her room and… you know 🫣 NSFW, maybe slight choking if you don’t mind writing it (if not that is totally okay!) just some dirty talk here and there also for example: whenever Amanda catches Hoffman flirting with reader she whispers things into readers ear :) Thank you so much in advance!

territory

amanda young x gender neutral reader | specified anatomy

18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni

tags / warnings ; apprentice!reader, jealousy, amanda being a guard dog, anatomical terms for vagina, degradation, dubcon if u squint, biting, sadistmanda

summary ; amanda catches you and mark going over your lastet work.

word count ; 3.2k

a/n; sorry for the delay, i really loved this prompt and writing for the apprentice reader, they are so silly! please enjoy :D

Amanda had a bad feeling about Mark from the start. How could she not? She saw that wicked look in his eyes, that knowing spark every time he glanced at you while you sketched traps aimlessly. He knew that you weren't supposed to be anything more than teammates, but that didn't stop him from trying to turn it into something more - Something like what you and Amanda had. Mark had always been cold, bitter. He spoke the truth with no hesitation, taking in breaths with the intent to speak words meant to silence others in the room. He was a force to be reckoned with to most; And yet as he watched you from across the warehouse, his gaze was disturbingly ... Friendly. Seeing this did not just make Amanda angry, her gaze curiously stuttering past the dooframe just as Mark crossed the room toward you. He squared his shoulders, shoes thudding quietly against the cement floor as his eyes reached the sketchbook in front of you.

You had been drafting for some days - It felt strange, almost like having homework due. John was a tough judge, especially when the traps were made for a truly awful person; In truth you didn't want to dwell on the details of the man this trap was for. He had taken things from women that could never be given back to them, and that was enough to drive your sadistic spark. The spark that made John give a slight tilted grin, not speaking as he steadily nodded, studying your sketches. At first his silence worried you, but when your drafts ended up pinned to the wall near his desk, you took to planning more confidently. It seemed John wasn't the only one to take notice to your determination, your pencil coming to a sharp pause as Mark leaned the weight of his hip into the creaking metal table. His eyes were still lingering on the page, jaw shifting with a slightly tilted head, nearly perplexed at the scratched notes and crumpled discarded brainstorm pages. Not your fault your desk was cluttered. When the inspiration hits you, y'know?

"What is this?"

Mark asked quietly as he moved to grasp and hold up one of the crumpled sketches. It had been discarded because you accidentally drew it comically uneven and decided it was too time consuming to try and fix without a ruler on hand. Mark gave you a quizzical glance nonetheless, looking between you, the warped drawing, and the others on the sketchbook before you. You had originally planned to draw a second picture, a much less fucked up version with the same pose, but you got hung up on the details. A small laugh escapes your throat, lighting up the cold warehouse for a brief moment. Why did he take notice of the wrong sketch? And why did he have to remind you of it's existence? The small pursed smile pushed at the corners of your lips as gave a shake of your head.

"Bad proportions."

"I'll fuckin' say,"

Mark's response suprised you slightly, the way his tone so easily shifted from a cold demanding one to an almost playful chuckle. He gave a slight nod as he re crumpled the distorted sketch, eyes casting over his shoulder to locate the trash can and - Oh. There she was. Amanda stood slightly obscured by a stacked frame of chains, the light of the warehouse casting long shadows across her face. She could feel the distinct searing hot shaking in her fingertips; She had never seen Mark laugh, let alone smile. It left a harshly bitter taste in her mouth, shifting her shoulder to shrug past the hanging chains. Her body moved slow, steps quiet as she approached you and Mark with the stealth of a snake in high grass. Her dark eyes were still locked on Mark's, the way his free hand hovered over your shoulder, how he shifted his body to face yours, the smell of his subtle cologne brushing over your senses. Jealousy surged through Amanda's veins in chilling waves, goosebumps pricking the back of her neck, fingers clenching into fists, knuckles a bright white. No one could have you besides her, this was true. But Hoffman surely had to know exactly what he was doing.

Mark's eyes narrowed when they met Amanda's. He knew that look - An animal primed to kill, a woman who would cage herself over you in a storm of shattered glass without a second thought. He swore a flashing glint of red soared over Amanda's gaze, her attention faltering as it caught the sight of Mark's hand. In one moment, his palm had laid for perhaps half a second on your shoulder, and the next, a shadow cast over your sketchbook, a figure standing directly behind you.

You had grown used to Amanda's silence when walking around the warehouse, yet your body jolted with a sudden twist of fear, moving to turn towards the figure just as Mark pulled his hand away. Your hitching breaths relaxed as you caught sight of Amanda, your expression easing into a small smile. But when she did not return it, it faded from your lips. You immediately recounted the past few minutes - Surely there had been no reason to be angry with you. You've been working, and Mark's been... Ah. The dots connected then as you peered over toward the man beside you, then Amanda once again. The woman wet her lips slowly, tongue rolling over her bottom lip before speaking in a terrifyingly calm voice.

"Having fun?"

Amanda's gaze locked with Mark's, her thoughts flashing with an ugly picture of him with you. Mark shifted slightly, a frown tugging at the edge of his lips. He knew that look in Amanda's eyes. That possessiveness that bordered on insanity. She couldn't place if Mark even knew about her history with you - The countless times she'd press kisses to your cheek in passing, the brush of your thighs when you passed each other, your quiet desperate whispers in her ear promising to keep quiet if it meant she'd touch you. You belonged to her entirely, she was assured of that every waking moment of the day. Every time your bodies tangled together in bed, swimming amongst the sheets to get comfortable, taking in eachothers warmth and staying close, whispering sweet nothings. You were Amanda's everything. She'd flay anyone, any man that tried to ruin that.

"Having a blast." Mark speaks sarcastically, leaning once again against the rusting table, palms splayed over it behind him. "Our friend here was showing me some of their latest work, which I have to say seems promising."

Mark continues, not even looking at Amanda, instead focusing on your drawings. Amanda, for her part, remained motionless for a moment, her expression nearly unreadable, her breathing sharp and steady. Your face flushed, cheeks warming at the sight. In another world, you'd be terrified of that look. Primed to kill, stalking prey with the intent to ravaging it. Her fists curled tight at her side, mouth parted ever so slightly.

"Latest work?"

Amanda echoed, not missing a beat. She still had her eyes locked on Mark. There were no words there anymore, just unspoken emotions that Mark caught wind of almost immediately. He rolled his shoulders, feeling them tense up slightly. He should have known better than to cross claimed territory. That became only more apparent as Amanda's slow pace began once again, coming closer to you both until her hands could rest on both of your shoulders. Her hands were just abit smaller than Mark's, fingers slim and familiar, silver banded rings wrapping over them. They were familiar, warm as her thumbs swept over the backs of your shoulders. It comforted her having you in arms reach, especially with Mark so close by. Her grasp was ever so slightly too tight, fingers flexing over your shoulders as her head cocked, eyes still on Mark. She lifted her eyesbrows expectantly, chin jutting forward slightly, motioning the man to speak with an impatient expression.

"Tch,"

Amanda's possessiveness was so intense, you started to question if that was really a good thing - But the way her hands were now holding you, stroking your shoulder in a comforting caress? That was definitely worth the way Mark began to shift away from you both. There was no helping the way you bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your pulse was picking up pace by the second under Amanda's cold grasp. Her large scarred hands made you feel safe. Each arching scratch or healing nick on her finger tips had a story, one she would tell you with a lopsided grin, nearly bragging. She liked impressing you. Though, she'd never admit it to you without a myriad of stutters and flushed cheeks. Her presence made you feel warm, a space of safe welcoming heat in the middle of this seemingly endless freezing warehouse. You were so comfortable with her hands on your shoulders that you stopped wondering what Mark was feeling. Your gaze cast toward the sketches splayed over your desk, mind dwindling off into all different directions, all leading back to her. Mark was always cold. You and Amanda had something different - The way her breath caught in her throat as she realized you were starting to relax again, the way the fingers on your shoulder gripped tighter just for a moment before she pulled back, as if to assure you she'd be back in no time - you didn't even glance away as Mark's footsteps echoed away down a dingey hallway, presumably to leave for the night.

The feeling of your back hitting the lush mattress of Amanda's bed took the breath away, but how her hands kept your wrists pinned to the sheets made you gasp sharply. The palms pressed softly against your wrists, sending shivers rocketing up your spine, setting your every nerve on edge. Her dark hair curtained over you as her nails gently raked over your body - She cherished every inch of skin, biting her lower lip as her eyes watched you wryly, pinned underneath her. You didnt dare push past this to see through the pulsing haze that danced across your vision from the unexpected rough touch of the other. You tried to swallow your panic down, but nothing could be done to keep the soft whimper from escaping your lips; It pulled a low purr from the woman, tutting quietly before bringing an index finger to her lips, a motion to stay quiet. Amanda leaned down then, her whispered words catching the shell of your ear as she leaned more of her weight into you.

"Shh... You know exactly what you were doing. Don't try to fight me now."

Your eyes darted back and forth, body shivering with equal parts need and fear as she chuckled darkly. The sound was pillowed with a dark intent, lips moving to trace over the warm skin of your neck, lightly glazed with sweat. There was a moment where it felt like you were going to pass out from the thrill of being Amanda's plaything, but then her lips pressed gently against your throat, tethering your mind to focus on her. The way her tongue slid over the sensitive space of skin, teeth gently sinking down, reeling a quiet squeal from your chest. It only made her bite harder, though perhaps you knew that; Perhaps she was right. You wanted to play cat and mouse? So be it.

You squirmed at the slowly building pinch on your throat, back arching as arms fighting ever so slightly against Amanda's weight. After a long moment, the pain subsided, her tongue sweeping over the harsh bite before sitting up slightly. Her eyes were locked on yours, though she was clearly looking through you, to some private joke you were not exactly privy to. Her eyes slid down your body slowly, her left hand releasing one of your wrists to dive underneath your shirt. It seemed a dangerous gamble, taking the chance that she'd see your skin bare, chest rising and falling with frantic gasps of desire, like this. But then, Amanda had been a risk taker - And in this moment, there was nothing more you wanted, those poisonous moments where every sensation she caused seemed to leave a permanent mark on your body and mind. She molded you, carved you like granite as she palmed your chest greedily, one of her legs shifting to spread your own. Her knee pressed lightly against your clothed heat, applying slight varying pressure with a watchful eye; She always loved to see exactly what made you tick. What made your back arch and breath hitch with a carnal spark. She craved to have that practiced to a muscle memory, to turn you mindless in the palm of her hand whenever she chose fit.

"God you're sick huh?

You tried to say something in defense, maybe even a witty quip to get her to smile again. You loved when she smiled in moments like this; Between the passion, the rough bites and harsh words - It was nothing less than love. She knew how much you adored her like this. Dominant, protective, trigger happy with anybody who dared get too close to you. But you were breathless, body shuddering with the pleasure her touch brought. You were at your most vulnerable underneath the woman; Even with no way out, you could think of nothing better than being right where you were. Not much else mattered except for the feeling of both her hands sweeping back down your chest and stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. It wasn't until her finger tips hooked around your belt loops that your dazed eyes focused. Her fingers were slim, scarred, veins lacing over the back of her large hand and muscular forearm. She pulled away your pants with a bite of her lip, kicking them away with distinct impatience; She wanted to taste you.

The cold air chilled your lower half as she worked at your jeans, a soft chuckle following as her finger tips glided over your hips, dipping into the waistband of your underwear. She took more deliberate care with these, her fingers finding the exact mark in the fabric to pull them down, leaving you fully exposed. She wasted no time in exploring the full breadth of your bare front, leaning slightly downward to press soft kisses along the hard pulse of your left thigh. It was maddening, feeling the woman in her element as she lavished attention on your vulnerable skin, biting like a starving animal; Arousal spun your mind, her hot breath and desperate tongue so close to your needy cunt.

You couldn't think through the fog in your mind - Only feel. Only see. Her fingers danced across your skin in search of its most sensitive areas, leaving strewns of light bruises on the soft of your thighs. Hands swept over your thighs with surprising gentleness, positioning your legs to rest on her wide shoulders. She didn't let them linger there, letting go to slip those same palms over your ass, pulling you closer to her with yet another dark snicker. The air in your chest seemed to catch fire when she spoke, her whispered breath causing your hips to sutter forward, whimpering needily.

"I haven't even touched you yet... You think Mark could make you this fucking pathetic?"

It was a sharp question, despite being spoken in one of the softest tones you've ever heard from the woman - She gave you no time to answer, let alone recover before letting her tongue dip firmly into the space she whispered into.

“You're mine,” She murmured, letting her senses all fall away from her head, her spiraling thoughts. She was quick to pull your legs apart from one another, letting his tongue ease over your cunt, starting down firmly at the base, one of her thumbs moving to spread you open gently, to let all her have complete access to you. You gasped sharply, instinctively trying to close your thighs at the sudden electric euphoria lashing at your senses. Yet when her teeth grazed over your clit, your breath hitched tightly in your chest, gazing down at her working at your cunt with the desperation of a starved animal. A groan vibrated into your heat, and you let your head fall back, propping yourself up with her elbows as beads of sweat rolled over your temples. Your eyebrows knitted together, one of your hands reaching to the back of Amandas head, hoping for everything that she wouldn’t stop no matter what you said.

“Fuck - 'Manda!”

You strained the words, your hips shaking slightly as Amanda pulled your clit firmly between her lips, the fingers once used to hold you down had been moved to ease into your cunt, her index and middle fingers sliding in with little resistance. You felt so full just from the pair of fingers, and when she curved them upwards, you could feel your thighs trembling, biting your bottom lip. The quickening tips of her fingers reached that perfect spot, the one that you could barely reach by yourself. You tossed your head over the sheets, your fits gripping the blankets beside you so tightly you could feel your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. Amandas tongue worked wonders over the small area, her fingers keeping the repetitive motion inside of you; You felt a small fire start to rise in your lower stomach, spiking up into your veins, clouding your vision with stinging tears - Your body screamed for release, your moans aimless, begging Amanda not to stop.

Your squeals always seemed to motivate her more than anything else. Amanda used her free hand to pull one of your legs up onto her strong shoulder, leaning herself deeper into you - So willing to make you come undone just from her fingers and tongue alone. A smile reached over her lips as she pulled her mouth from you, her fingers not wavering.

“That's it...” She murmured, her dark eyes piercing deep into yours, expression contorting, able to see you finally cum around her thick fingers. Your eyes watered with the immeasurable amount of pleasure that reigned over your senses, head spinning, saliva falling from your bottom lip. Amanda shuddered out a sigh at the sight of your twitching heat, her thumb rubbing over your senstive clit harshly now, post orgasm. This caused you to try and pull away once more, head shaking instinctually. The sensitivity was too much for you, a strangled sounding out cry made Amanda chuckle casually, her teeth now nipping at the insides of your thighs as you rode out your forcefully coaxed orgasm.

When Amanda removed her fingers, she eased her tongue over them, humming with approval, eyes not leaving your dazed expression. She let your trembling leg slide off her shoulder as the air filled with your unsteady gasps, hardly able to put words together as the woman before you moved to sit on the bed beside you - You tried to move, lifting your shakey hand, finger tips numb from your shallow breaths, yet Amanda shook her head and returned your hand back in place. You needed rest, even as she pulled you into her arms and wrapped her thick quilt over your shoulders, keeping you in her lap while she gingerly offered you water and pecking your cheeks and head with kisses. Amanda would spoil you until the end, even if it meant reminding you exactly who you belonged to every once in a while.

#amanda young x you #amanda young x reader #amanda young x oc #amanda young x female reader #saw amanda #amanda young #saw #saw franchise #saw x reader #mark hoffman #hoffman #slasher #slasher x reader #bowies fics #amanda saw #amanda young x gn reader #gender nuetral reader

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buggy-samaaa · 2 months

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Caught, part 12

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Word count: 313

Content: NSFW — mdni, gender neutral reader, no y/n, second person POV, voyeurism, anal, masturbation, misuse of devil’s fruit powers, man musk, pillow humping, auralism

Tag list: @hey-august, @bbnbhm, @genius---jester, @lostfirefly, @ane5e

——

There was puke on your boots and you were trying really hard not to look at it for fear of feeling sick yourself. Buggy didn’t know where to look, his eyes darting all over. Then he turned to leave.

“Wh—Hey!” you exclaimed, and you pulled him back by his coat sleeve. “Come on, I’m taking you to bed.” You heard what sounded like a high-five behind the mast. “Not like that!” you shouted with frustration to Mohji and Cabaji, and Mohji responded with a weak “sorry.”

Buggy allowed himself to be taken to his quarters, still feeling a bit woozy. You helped him out of his coat and hat and fluffed his pillows for him.

“Just… lie down. I’ll get you something to settle your stomach,” you said, and Buggy did as he was told. You were back in a jiff with crackers and a glass of water. “Here,” you said gently, handing him the plate. Buggy nibbled one of the crackers and sipped some water. You looked down at your boots with a grimace, and excused yourself to go clean them off.

Buggy lied there and chewed as he thought about what a dumbass he was. When you came back, you had on different shoes and you were holding a damp towel. You pressed the cloth to his forehead as Buggy looked up at you with those pale green eyes. You blushed lightly and stepped away, then pulled up one of his armchairs and sat down, busying yourself with your sketchbook.

“What are you doing?” Buggy asked through a mouthful of crackers.

You shrugged. “Passing the time.”

Buggy swallowed his food. “You’re gonna… stay here?”

“Mhm,” you said absently, sketching away.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I was just gonna draw anyway.”

Buggy studied his plate of crackers. “If I stubbed my toe, would you kiss it?”

“What the fuck?”

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy smut #one piece smut #opla buggy #my fic

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bluginkgo · 7 months

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The ending of season 1 is a pretty common topic right now. Of course, many theories have been said so here I am adding my own jumbled mess of thoughts and probably repeating what other, smarter, people have already said.

Spoilers, duh

The main question I actually kinda wanna take a dive into is why destroy earth?

A parasite on a usual timeline, tries to take over its host and use the host to produce more parasites to infect others. Ok, that's fine. But if absolute solver is like a parasite- which is what it seems to be almost like- why destroy earth? Yes, we saw what it did to the Elliot mansion. That must have been only just the beginning and a small taste of what it's capable.

So by the parasitic definition, it should try to find more hosts and more zombie drones to expand its reign. But does that really require to make earth into what N saw?

The first time I saw this theory it was pitched by LoreDrone on youtube- they do amazing theories and explanations. Go take a look, they explain it much better than I can. But basically they said that perhaps the true form of the absolute solver isn't this:

Or this:

And definetly not this:

But instead is a black hole AKA this:

That once the parasitic like nature finally takes complete control of the planet, it will do this and create a black hole.

The insane amount of times absolute solver has referred (or others have) to black holes is crazy. The most direct being: "The Solver of the Absolute Fabric. The void. The exponential end."

Sound familiar? Yeah, sounds like a black hole. It would actually explain some random things that we see throughout the show.

Like the two black holes that slowly float away after Uzi and N defeat eldrich J.

And not to mention all of the black holes that are seen in drawings both from Nori and others in eps 4 and 6.

There is an issue here though. The small creatures that we see for eldrich J, the corrupted core plus the small head that was projecting Khan's dead body only have a small impact and therefore produce little black holes. Uzi was able to create- although accidently- black holes throughout Dead End. All of which could not take full form as the first time, she passes out and thus the black hole form disintegrates. And the second time was when N chopped off her arm.

This all means that the absolute solver needs more solver drones like Cyn to create a large enough black hole to take its final form.

Here's the kicker though.

Why send disassembly drones to the planet then? We get a direct quote from Liam himself saying that spoilers! The humans didn't make the disassembly drones- which pretty much leaves Cyn to be the one that made them, and that's pretty true seeing as she was already making prototypes in the library basement in ep 5.

Copper 9 and many other planets (when Tessa explained) were studying absolute solver and trying to use its powers. "But all they did was spread it." Sounds like a perfect plan for the absolute solver, right? Spread the parasites and its hive mind/cloud based nature to overtake galaxies! So then... why send disassembly drones to Copper 9? The main hub where two very powerful solver drones, by the looks of it, that have huge potential! Nori and Yeva.

And both killed by disassembly drones. Sounds counterproductive, doesn't it?

"J, relay hand. Cyn's orders."

"Step 1: Clear drop zone of life and construct spires. Step 2..."

"Enter labs with this symbol."

Ladies and gentlemen, here we are. Idk if it's a commonly accepted theory or take, but I'm on this boat and I will proudly burn down with it.

Cyn is on our side.

Tessa (although she's very sketch) and J are trying to figure out why Cyn sent disassembly drones to other exo-planets. It is also Cyn's administration that's blocking absolute solver from completely corrupting our trio. It was also Cyn that ordered the eradication of all worker drones. We see that many of these worker drones are... by all technicality and for the most part aside from some odd balls- are correctly disposed of. Their bodies are ripped apart, devoured of their oil and cannot reboot as a zombie drone.

If Cyn was completely corrupted by absolute solver, she'd send the disassembly drones to perhaps kill the worker drones to increase the rate of zombie drones to wake up with the absolute solver string in them- just like seen with Cyn. But no. The entire spire is constructed of corpses in pieces.

Now as for my take on the ending (and let me tell you, I bet you I'm 100% wrong and this will probably not happen) I think our trio will beat whatever the f*ck is in Cabin Fever labs and team up with Cyn to then go to other planets and save them from absolute solver. A rather optimistic uptake, I know. But I'm also for a lot of the more bittersweet and not so happy ending theories that are out there.

I saw it from @villainsrule2018 for the first time. That this image may be Copper 9 by the end of the season. I absolutely love the idea that we might lose Copper 9 but perhaps save other planets. But I have another take on this. This is earth. We've lost earth already, and off to the side we have Copper 9's moons, implying Copper 9 is its next target.

As per usual, there's plenty of holes and inconsistencies in my theories and ramblings. Feel free to expand or go against this, I love hearing other theories on how season 1 will end. ^_^

#murder drones theory #murder drones #serial designation n #glitch productions #uzi doorman #serial designation v #serial designation j #rambles #murder drones ep 5 #murder drones episode 6 #murder drones tessa #tessa james elliot #murder drones cyn #absolute solver #murder drones nori #murder drones yeva #bluginkgo's rambles/theories

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goosewriting · 1 year

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Maybe.. Mikey with scenario 28 please?i was thinking Mikey could be the one to have drawn the picture, but either way is fine by me :)

Stolen glances (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

scenario 28: A finding a hand-sketched photo of them on B’s desk.

summary: reader discovers Mikey’s drawings of them.

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: fluff all the way~

word count: ~720

A/N: finally one for mikey! this one was cute /v\ thanks for requesting!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

You were hanging at the turtle lair as per usual, having a movie night with the brothers and April. You were all setting up the mountain of blankets and pillows in front of the projector, when you remembered you left the snacks you brought in your backpack. You had spent the time earlier in Mikey’s room, so you had probably left it there.

Leaving the turtles you quickly made your way to the youngest brother’s room. You found what you were looking for on his bed, and quickly rummaged in it to fish out the snacks. You hummed to yourself in anticipation, looking forward to eating these. As you turned around, your elbow made contact with something on Mikey’s desk, and you heard some clattering.

For a second you thought you had spilled some liquid on his desk, which was usually filled with artwords, so you panicked, the food in your arms falling to the ground as you turned around. You sighed in relief when you saw that what you knocked over was a cup with pencils and brushes, but nothing wet.

As you were picking up what you had dropped, a drawing caught your eye. You looked over your shoulder at the door and listened for anyone approaching; nothing. Normally you wouldn’t snoop around, but you really admired Mikey’s artistic skills. Curiosity ended up winning the upper hand, and you left the snacks on the desk, picking up the small pile of drawings.

It was several artworks in graphite. You inspected each piece for a couple of seconds, then switched to the next one; some were still life studies of things lying around in the lair, others were landscapes you didn’t recognise. And then you were met with a drawing of you.

You blinked a couple of times in surprise, bringing the paper closer to your face and squinting slightly, concluding that it really was you. And not just once, but all remaining sketches were of you. They were all showing different expressions, many of which you didn’t even know you did. And yet you could recognise that he captured you perfectly, the slope of your nose, the small dimple when you smiled.

Realising that this meant Mikey looked at you quite often brought heat to your cheeks. You had been crushing on him for quite some time now, but had come to terms with not acting on it. However this changed things. What if… he also liked you? Would you have a chance with him?

You were looking at the next drawing, when you heard voices behind you.

“Hey, we’re about to start. What’s taking you so long-” Mikey asked, but froze when he saw what you held in your hands. Behind him, Leo peeked over his shoulder, going ‘ooh~ caught in 4K’.

“I- I’m so sorry!” you apologised, placing the drawings back on the desk and fidgeting with your hands. “I didn’t mean to snoop around, really! I came back for the snacks but then these caught my attention and, well…”

Mikey still had a shocked expression and didn't know what to do or say, his eyes going from you to the desk and back. Leo gave him a pat on the shell, then shot you a smug grin.

“Little bro here looks at you a lot when you’re not looking, you know~” and with that he quickly turned around, evading Mikey’s swat, and skipped back to the projector room giggling.

“Is… Is that true?” you asked the orange clad turtle once Leo was out of ear-shot. You could have sworn Mikey’s cheeks were starting to burn up.

“Well, yeah…” he said and scratched his neck. “You’re really pretty. How could I not?”

“Well, if you had asked” you started, feeling the confidence bubbling up in you. “I could have posed properly for you.”

Mikey didn’t respond, instead just looked at you, trying to read between the lines if you were saying what he thought you were saying. As he was about to answer, you heard the other turtles calling from the projector room, hurrying you to go back so they could start the movie.

“Let’s watch the movie for now” you said and picked up the snacks yet again. “Later we can arrange something.”

“It’s a date then” Mikey said with a wink, making your heart flutter.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz

#goose feathers #500 goslings event #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #tmnt x reader #michelangelo x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018

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starsh0cked · 4 months

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okay so. two things!! first of all, over the course of january (and the beginning of february) i participated in the kirby oc secret santa, which was wonderfully hosted by @/moonverc3x. i was lucky enough to be the santa for @/starflungwaddledee, and ended up with two of my best pieces so far!!

these were CHALLENGING, though. which is where the second thing comes in!! under the cut, i'll be going over some of the sketches, drafts and phases of either piece! there's also a speedpaint. exciting!!

i'll be starting with my starstruck piece! the theme here was wanderlust - literally one of the most whimsical words i know - and generally anything to do with the stars. i had a few things in mind, but considering how long it sometimes takes to make artwork, i decided to roll with what inspired me the most.

this is the final sketch compared to the final artwork. certainly one of the crazier transformations i've done. i had a mental image of most parts of the artwork, from the material of starstruck's bow to the lighting cast by the stars. everything except for the grass (i hate grass!!) i ended up rendering the grass and background first, anyway.

doing the background before the rest of the artwork helps define the lighting and shadows! if i decided to draw starstruck before the background, i'd have to draw it according to the lighting.

weird explanation, but in summary: background before character helps the character look like a part of the environment! character before background means extra steps need to be taken before the character fits in the environment!

starstruck's bow was also a decent challenge! i'm a fan of bows and satin, so a satin bow sounded like a good idea. it was, but i've never drawn satin before. the workaround was an active satin study! i stared at a satin bow i found on pinterest and tried to understand how light spread over the material. it's quite interesting!!

you might notice that i flipped the direction of the shooting stars. this is for composition reasons!! i wanted to make starstruck the obvious focus, and while the contrast between her warmer palette and the background's cooler palette easily achieve that, i wanted to cement it. i also added little hand drawn sparklies everywhere. because i like it.

of course, i have to talk about the eyes!! if anything, i noticed that in all of starflung's drawings of starstruck, she had really glittery eyes. literally adorable. so i made it my mission to capture her feelings in her eyes!! i had a lot of fun making them super shiny and adding little stars in there. i also needed to pay attention to the subtle gradient, though - they fade from blue to pink if you zoom into starflung's artworks - and decided to keep it vibrant.

okay. thats all for this one!! i'd like to mention that in the original sketch for this specific pose, bandee was in the background. i really regret scrapping that now. oh, well!

time for morpho dee! i'll be starting for with the speedpaint for this one, mainly because it sort of explains some of the process by itself.

i restarted the shading... three or four times at least? so yeah. i was losing it on this piece. i'll be completely honest, i contemplated dropping it for the sake of meeting the deadline. it wasn't stressing me out, but i had studies to worry about too, and i was worried that it wouldn't be of great quality? but after some advice from my beloved older sister, i managed to turn the tide!!

this is a first for me, but everything here was a challenge. if you scroll through my account and the few artworks i've posted, you'll notice that i draw gijinkas far more than orbs. now, you may be wondering why this didn't pose so much of an issue for my starstruck piece! it's mainly because i chose a far simpler pose for her than i did for morpho over here.

for morpho, the artwork needed to be dramatic. i draw cutesy things - while i've always wanted to draw something dramatic, i've never pushed myself to do it. until this artwork! i went for a dynamic pose which would (hopefully) pull the viewer's eye towards morpho dee. that's what's up with the foreshortned spear! i also realised that the plcement of his feet would be quite significant to the artwork. you might not know this, but feet are my greatest enemy. i'm still trying to figure out how best to draw them for people or orbs, but i'm getting there.

after 'lineart' (which really ended up being a cleaned sketch - this was supposed to be linelessly rendered, but i gave up on that) the pose was no longer a problem. because the shading was! hooray!!

nothing has quite bewildered me like metal shading has. i've shaded gold. satin. cotton, fluffy scarves, shiny things, grass. yet metal shading continues to elude me! this was, hands down, the most difficult part of this artwork. i struggled to make sense of how the lighting was supposed to work, even with references. and every time i thought it made sense, i ended up with something i didn't like the look of. the solution? long breaks, more references and pinterest tutorials. i have no clue how i managed this, but we got here anyways. i finished it off by colouring the lineart according to the shading.

i have experience with drawing fire, at least! it was three or four years ago in an old artwork, but i have experience! i simply had to figure out how to work it into the atmosphere. for the glow, i duplicated the layer, gaussian blurred it and used a slight glow layer! i did something similar for the durst particles, but i used motion blur instead.

i also want to talk about the spear a little bit. you might notice that i added a bit of ambient glow around the blue gem. that was with the light intensity in mind, but also for a sense of realism! i also had to keep the pink light in mind, though. so i ended up using an airbrush to create a base for the lighting and i continued from there. i added a few scratches on the handle just to give it a bit more life, too.

and, finally, a one-to-one comparison between the sketch and the final! i have literally no idea how i pulled either of these pieces off, but i'm quite proud of them.

i recommend you drop by @/kirbyoc-secretsanta for other artworks! a total of 75 artists participated, so there are plenty of super cool ocs to adore over there and new artists to find!! this was my first secret santa experience, and @/moonverc3x made an amazing host (thank you for hosting, by the way!!) bye bye!!

#kirby #digital art #starstruck dee #morpho dee #sorry to everyone who thought this was short. and sorry to everyone who reblogs this #it really wasn't supposed to be so long but i had a lot to talk about #i'm pretty sure i've covered everything though #but these were a thrill to make!!#i've always wanted to make fanart for starflung because her characters are so cool and unique #so i was hoping to get her in the santa and. somehow i did #yeah i screamed when that happened. heehee #but!! i'll probably try to participate in more events like this!! this was super fun!!#i literally cannot thank moon enough for being such a great host #i'm generally a nervous person when it comes to talking online but moon was quite warm and sociable!!#this was an exciting first time for me!!#glitter in my ink

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imagrindylow · 1 year

Text

Muse

Sebastian Sallow / Ominis Gaunt. 4.4k Words Based on this post by @into-the-undercroft and the reblogs by @the-ominis-gaunt Hope you both enjoy :) I will probably write a second part to this at some point, this was just too fun to work on. Content Warning: None, just fluff. Summary: Sebastian is a sketch artist who enjoys secretly drawing Ominis as he does everyday things around the castle. One day Ominis finds out and confronts him and agrees to pose for him. ~~~~~~

Sebastian didn’t like lying to Ominis, it was never easy. Even on the topic of something as seemingly simple as this. Claiming the need to be elsewhere, to have plans with someone else, only to sit in the same room as his friend at a good distance, with his sketchbook and charcoal in hand, silently studying his features and transferring the likeness onto his pages.

It always made Sebastian feel a little guilty. Not just the secrecy of his hobby… or rather of the subject material... but how shamelessly he let himself stare at Ominis in the name of his art. His sketchbook had dozens of drawings of Ominis in various settings… reading with his wand in their common room, leaning back on his palms outside of the castle in the grass, sitting among his other friends near the lake, playing wizards chess… The list was endless. And that’s not even mentioning the pages upon pages of quick sketches of his individual features... most frequently, his eyes and his hands as they fiddled with his wand.

Sebastian had taken up this hobby during sixth year, as a release for his stress of the previous year, as a way to clear his head and focus himself on something pleasant. Since then, he had become quite good at it. The sketches were all instantly recognizable and Sebastian thought he took great care in covering the pages as other classmates passed by, trying to get a peek at just what was on them. But it was no secret. Anyone could easily just follow his gaze back to Ominis. When he was sketching, the rest of the school seemed to melt away.

Today, Sebastian had excused himself from Ominis’s side with the excuse of needing to serve detention for disrupting a lecture. He packed up his materials and left Ominis sitting in the library working on an assignment at a table alone. He headed towards the library doors, even going as far as to open them without going through them, to really try to make it seem like he left. Then, he crept his way to an armchair that offered him a good view and the comfort he’d need since he knew he’d be there awhile.

Ominis was sitting with his head propped in his hand with his wand pointing at his book, speaking quietly to himself while his quill scrawled down his words on his parchment. Sebastian folded his sketchbook open to an empty page and pulled out a little packet of charcoal and an eraser and got to work, first taking in the shape of his face, something he could probably draw blindfolded at this point. He mapped out his hair, and the way one eye brow arched just a bit higher than the other as he focused to worked on his assignment. Merlin, he is beautiful.

Sebastian often blushed as he sketched Ominis, and now was no different. He shaded the angles of his jaw thinking about what he wouldn’t give to drag his lips along it. He sat there with a grin on his face and flushed cheeks, looking between Ominis and his sketchbook, as he got lost in his art. He barely noticed when Imelda sat down next to Ominis and started running her mouth in his ear. He just kept drawing.

“Ugh, I wish someone would look at me like that,” she said as she set her bag down on the table beside Ominis, and pulling out a textbook of her own. She rolled her eyes as she spoke and looked genuinely jealous of whatever affections she was speaking of.

“Hm? Like who looks at what?” Ominis turned his attention to her, setting his wand in the crease of his book.

Sebastian’s ears perked up at the sound of Ominis’s voice. He did a double take and met eyes with Imelda as she began to speak again. The color left his face as her words left her mouth.

“Like Sallow looks at you of course. While he’s sketching you. I don’t know how you get anything done, I’d never be able to focus knowing someones eyes are burning into me like that.” She said and gave a little chuckle, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, not giving her words a second thought because surly Ominis had to know he was always the subject of his best friends hobby.

“Is Sebastian here?” Ominis asked her quickly and in a hushed tone. “He told me he was serving a detention...”

It was only then that she realized he had no idea. Ominis had no idea that Sebastian was drawing him... Not now, or ever. She cleared her throat and shot Sebastian an apologetic look, realizing she had crossed a line in which Sebastian was clearly not ready to cross. “Um…” She could think of absolutely no good way to answer him.

Sebastian hastily shut his sketchbook, stuffed his charcoal and eraser back into their little drawstring

pouch and tried to shove everything back into his satchel as fast as he could. His mind was scrambling, this was not a conversation he wanted to have with Ominis. Not now and possibly not ever. Admitting these kinds of feelings for your closest friend was one thing but secretly sketching them for months without their knowledge…. Oh the very thought of him finding out made Sebastian's stomach churn.

As he was cramming everything into his bag, several sketches fell from the worn binding of his book. The sounds of paper scattering caught Ominis’s attention and he just knew that it was him, that Sebastian was in fact here. Sitting just a few yards away from him, this whole time. Sebastian grabbed the loose pages, his bag, and shot Imelda a scornful look before tearing out of the library, before Ominis had even finished getting out of his seat to approach him.

But Sebastian couldn’t hide forever. Not from Ominis, anyway. Ominis actually thanked Imelda for her slip of the tongue, with a flushed face. He gathered his classwork and made his way out of the library as well, the corners of his mouth pulling upwards in a satisfied grin.

The obvious first place Ominis decided to look for Sebastian was the undercroft. He strode through the clockwork door with his wand outstretched in front of him, into the middle of the room and listened carefully. Silence. Perhaps this was too obvious a place for Sebastian to run off and hide at. Just as Ominis was heading back through the gate, he heard the exhale of a deep breath. He was here. He turned back around and called out this time. “Sebastian. I know you’re here. I heard you breathing,” Ominis stated and waited for Sebastian to relent.

Sebastian scoffed, but before he spoke, his voice softened. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-”

Ominis cut him off, “You don’t have to apologize, Sebastian.” His voice sounded… sweet. Too sweet, in Sebastian’s opinion, for him to be angry about the bomb Imelda dropped on him out of no where. He sounded flattered. “I… I don’t mind if you sketch me.”

“Well, thanks. That… that certainly makes things easier.” Sebastian replied and gave a nervous chuckle.

“I wish I could see your sketches. To see how you view all of your friends, you know? I find the concept of art very interesting. Who else have you drawn?”

Oh of course. Of course Ominis wouldn’t assume he’s the only one Sebastian has been sketching all this time. But he was. That didn’t mean Sebastian was any more ready for that question. It hit him like a spell to the chest. Sebastian ran his hand along the back of his neck and paced a bit, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't be absolutely foolish.

But Sebastian was nothing if not foolish at times, and he settled on putting honesty above his pride this time. He felt he owed Ominis some honestly around this for a change. “I haven’t sketched anyone else. I haven’t sketched anything else.”

The thick silence that hung in the air felt crushing. Surly Sebastian should have said anything else. He should have lied. Ugh what a way to break your feelings to someone. But when he finally replied, Sebastian felt a rush of relief, Ominis again, sounded flattered.

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

“Why me… why only me?”

“I mean…” Sebastian sighed and let that nervous laugh fall from his lips again. “You just look like you were born to be drawn. Your features… Your… bone structure.” He swallowed hard after answering. He wasn’t lying. Ominis already looked like artwork walking around the castle everyday. He deserved to be recognized for the beauty he was. “And I mean, you’re my best friend. I feel more comfortable just drawing you.”

“I see.” Ominis sounded only half convinced, mostly because Sebastian was only giving him half of the truth. But his curiosity was sufficiently satiated for now.

Before he even knew what he was saying or why, Sebastian blurted out, “Maybe you can pose for me at some point.” He felt his skin get hotter as he spoke and could feel his heart race in his chest while he waited for Ominis to answer.

“Sure, I guess. I… Wouldn’t mind that.”

Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. “Alright then.” He cleared his throat. This was incredibly awkward, but, at least he agreed. “Well… I’ve got class. I’ll see you later in the common room, then.”

“See you.” Ominis replied.

Sebastian headed out of the undercroft quickly, and made his way to his NEWT Potions class, where he’d be able to completely focus his mind on something else for awhile. He welcomed the distraction. Ominis paced around the undercroft a bit more now that he could be alone with his thoughts. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but if his best friend felt so strongly about sketching him, indulging him in his hobby didn’t seem like it could hurt. He would leave the timing up to Sebastian and discuss it with him later. He headed back to their common room to resume his classwork that Imelda had interrupted earlier.

Despite spending dinner with each other as always, and spending the evening in the common room together, they let the topic of Sebastian’s art lie for the time being, chatting about other things instead, as they usually would. Sebastian was intentionally trying to avoid the topic, and still feeling a bit embarrassed over the way his little habit got revealed to Ominis, while Ominis didn’t see it as too big of a deal, was still feeling flattered, and was not thinking it was something that needed further discussion, at the moment, anyway…

~~~

The following morning was another story however. Ominis always rose earlier than Sebastian, and he readied himself for the day quickly and headed down to the common room, where Imelda could also always be found stretching and having some tea, before making her way to the grounds for flying time before breakfast.

Assuming she’d be there as usual, Ominis called out for her as he entered the common room.

“Over here.” She called back and he let his wand guide him towards the sound of her voice. She was sitting on the couch.

“Are we alone?” He asked as he sat beside her.

“Mm, mostly. Couple of lower years about. Only a few. What is it?” “How long have you known about Sebastian sketching me?” He asked her quietly, leaning in towards her slightly as he spoke.

She let out a hum, as though she was expecting more questions on the subject since she had inadvertently let it slip yesterday. As expectant as she was, her first instinct was to deflect. “Why don’t you talk with him about that?”

“I did. I found him yesterday after he left the library. I just wanted more clarification than I felt like he’d have been comfortable giving me in the moment.”

This little bit of coaxing was enough to get her to answer him. “Hm. Well. I’ve known for awhile. He thinks he’s slick covering the pages with his hand when someone walks by, but he doesn’t ever take his eyes off you. It isn’t his best kept secret, that’s for sure. That being said, I thought you were aware. Obviously.”

“Have you seen them? The sketches. What am I doing in them?”

“Everyday things. Just… being. Nothing inappropriate, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Ominis nodded. He appeared to have thoroughly satisfied his curiosity now. He thanked her before getting up and heading to get himself some tea of his own.

It wasn’t long before Sebastian had awoken and made his appearance around the common room. He blushed at his first sight of Ominis for the day, and thought back on their chat from the previous day.

He was feeling more confident now, given that the rest of their evening the day before went smoothly and without awkwardness. He felt ready to plan a time for them to meet for their little arrangement.

“Morning, Ominis.” Sebastian greeted his friend as he approached him. He had been sitting in an armchair along the common room wall.

“Good morning, Sebastian.” He said with a little smile.

“I was thinking this evening after dinner we could meet at the room of requirement, if you’re still willing to pose for me, that is.” He spoke in a low voice, a hint of trepidation present.

“Of course. Yes, I’m still willing to do that.” His reply came easily, much to Sebastian’s relief. And Sebastian couldn’t be certain, but he was nearly positive that Ominis’s face reddened slightly as he assured Sebastian he was still on board.

“Right. Ok then, I’ll see you there this evening.”

The rest of the day went on as per usual, breakfast, classes, lunch, studying in the library, more classes, and finally, dinner. Sebastian found as dinner was nearing an end, he was becoming ever more nervous. He couldn’t pin point why, when he had drawn Ominis countless times, and now, finally, he had Ominis’s permission. Not only that but approval. Willingness to participate, even. But that’s what made it so nerve racking. Why was Ominis so willing? The possibility of him returning Sebastian’s feelings was absolutely too much to even consider. The mere thought of it made his knees feel weak and his heart palpitate. No matter how enticing the idea, Sebastian forced it from his mind as quickly as it crossed it, else he may not have had the strength to climb the seemingly infinite number of stairs to the seventh floor.

Despite leaving the Great Hall at the same time, the two did not make the trek to the seventh floor together. Sebastian first had to go back to his dorm room to gather his supplies. When it wasn’t on his person, he kept his sketch book at the bottom of his trunk at the foot of his bed. He pulled it out and packed it up, along with his charcoals and an eraser, put everything into his bag, and then he was off to meet Ominis, who headed off right after dinner.

When Sebastian approached the hallway, he faced the blank wall he paced, thinking of his need to meet with Ominis to get the door to appear, and it did. He headed inside. This was a version of the room he’d not seen before. There were already art supplies here – an easel, new sketch books, jars of fixative, weaponously sharp sticks of charcoal in more variety of hardness than Sebastian held in his personal collection. He shouldn’t have been surprised… the room does provide what’s needed. The room was smaller and more intimate that it had ever previously appeared to Sebastian. Ominis was inside, in the middle of the room, sitting on a stool with the most perfect and most magical lighting cast upon him. It was though the lighting was tailor made to highlight the bone structure of Ominis’s face, the glistening of the golden strands of his hair, and the angular cut of his jawline. All of Sebastian’s favorite features to draw. He had never seen Ominis look more perfect than he did in this moment. He looked like an absolute treasure.

“Wow,” Sebastian muttered.

“Did the room deliver?” Ominis wondered.

He quickly snapped out of his trance and gave an appropriate answer. “Did it ever. My own little art studio. It’s perfect.”

Sebastian dragged a small end table over to the provided easel and began perusing the stash of supplies shelved along the walls for what he wanted to use, and setting things up on the end table. Ominis sat on the stool, tipping it back and forth with his heels pressed to the floor.

“How do you want me?” Ominis asked, definitely not meaning for this to be construed in the way that Sebastian’s mind did initially.

Sebastian almost choked, stifling a giggle before shaking his head as though to rid it of the nonsense in his brain. “How you’re sitting is fine. But…” He approached Ominis slowly, and reached nervous fingers forward for the clasp of his robe. “Let’s take this off…. It really... inhibits your form.”

“Ah, of course.” Ominis replied, shrugging his robe off into Sebastian's hands, a playful tinge to his voice. He smiled as Sebastian pulled the robe away and walked to hang it over another chair in the room.

“You know, I haven’t done very many full body sketches like this. I appreciate you letting me do this.” Sebastian thanked him and readied a sheet of sketch paper on the easel. “Just, try to stay still, and I’ll get started.”

“Mhm. This is an interesting feeling, you know?”

“What, exactly?”

“Knowing that you see me as something worthy of… appreciation, like this.”

Sebastian had barely began stroking the charcoal against the paper before he set it down to digest Ominis’s words. “Well… does it feel good?”

“Well it’s certainly not a bad feeling.” he chuckled, “Just an unexpected one. But, I am very flattered.”

Sebastian smiled, and was thankful for the fact that Ominis couldn’t see the blush rising on his cheeks. “You do make a good subject. I’m not sure I could stand to stare at anyone else for so long.”

Ominis chuckled a bit and fidgeted with his hands in his lap. Sebastian was back to working the charcoal against the paper, his dark eyes floating between Ominis and his sketch. Time passed slowly, with the two mostly in silence from then on.

An hour must have passed since their last words. Sebastian took a step back and admired his work thus far, deciding he wanted to change the placement of one of Ominis’s arms. He walked towards him and muttered a quick “may I?” before taking his right hand and moving it from his lap to resting on the edge of the stool at his side, with his elbow slightly bent.

This time Sebastian was certain, Ominis blushed as he arranged his body, and Sebastian could feel heat rising in his own cheeks in response. “That’s nicer.” Sebastian said finally, taking a step back to admire the updated pose. “You look relaxed. Why don’t we roll up your sleeves, too?”

“Alright.” Ominis agreed and began to reach a hand towards the other to pull his sleeves up before Sebastian caught his wrist and put it back where it was.

“You stay still, let me. Can’t have you moving too much or it will mess up my shading.” Sebastian instructed. Maybe it sounded believable, he hoped it did. But really he just wanted another excuse to put his hands on Ominis. He unbuttoned the little button at Ominis’s wrist and folded the sleeve up a few times to his forearm. Sebastian inhaled shakily as his fingers dragged against Ominis’s pale skin as he moved up the fabric.

“Ah, of course. Can’t mess up your shading.” Ominis’s other arm laid across his lap while Sebastian did the same to the sleeve on that arm, the gentle and light brushing of Sebastian’s fingertips against Ominis’s skin sent goosebumps down Ominis’s arms and left him undeniably red in the face.

Sebastian grinned as he stepped back to the easel. “There. This is a good look for you, you know.” He said as he picked back up his charcoal and got back to work.

“Is it now? Well, it’s definitely outside of my typical styling.” He replied with a soft laugh.

“I know, that’s why I like it so.” Sebastian said, his smile must have been audible because Ominis gave him one in return right away.

“You know, if you’re wanting to style me outside of my typical fashion, I could do this…” Ominis offered, his voice heavy with mischief. Sebastian directed his gaze away from his sketch to see what Ominis was talking about. He looked up in time to see Ominis had brought his fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat, and began to undo them slowly.

Sebastian crossed the room to him quickly, grabbing both of his wrists gently and stilling them, before speaking to him in a quiet playfully scolding tone, “Keep your hands in place, Ominis.” He guided his hands back to their posed position. “Let me do it.”

“Be my guest, then.” Ominis permissed with a grin crossing his face as he felt Sebastian’s hands move to his buttons.

Sebastian stood close to Ominis, leaning over him slightly, Sebastian's warm and unsteady breath finding Ominis’s forehead, giving him chills, as Sebastian undid the buttons of the waistcoat, letting the garment hang more casually from Ominis’s shoulders. The tension between the two was undeniable, but Sebastian did his best to ignore it. He exhaled deeply as he adjusted the fabric just right, and made his way back to the easel.

The only sounds in the room were the scratches of the charcoal against the paper and the quiet breathing of the two. Slow, intentional breaths, both of them trying to appear calm to the other. Sebastian’s hand trembled every so slightly now, as he looked over Ominis with an insatiable desire in his eyes. He let his gaze rest on his forearms. Such an inconspicuous part of him, yet one that was so rarely seen under Ominis’s typically more formal dress. Sebastian took care to add the details of the lean muscle and protruding veins along his arms to his sketch, and took equal care to chisel the actual form in front of him into his memory.

He kept on and kept on. Sketching wasn’t usually this slow a process for Sebastian. He didn’t mean to, but this time, having his muse actually pose intentionally for him, he indulged his eyes greedily for far too long, apparently. Ominis’s posture slowly sank, and his expression grew tired as time passed. It was late in the evening now, definitely past curfew. Even in his viably tired state, Ominis didn’t complain.

Sebastian was nearly finished, with his sketch, but not quite. His eyes were tired, but so fulfilled. “It’s almost done,” He assured in a soft voice. “I know it’s late, I appreciate you sitting for me for so long. Truly.” Ominis smiled at him and gave him a nod as he straightened up his posture.

About twenty minutes later, Sebastian set his charcoal down and roughly brushed his hands together trying to rid them of at least some of the excess charcoal dust. He took deep breath and sighed happy as he sat back and admired his work. It was his best sketch yet, he was proud of himself and he beamed thinking of how lucky he was that Ominis agreed to pose for him like this.

Ominis could feel the mood shift in the room. While he was sketching, Sebastian grew serious and mostly silent. The air felt lighter now. “All finished?” He wondered.

“I am.” Sebastian confirmed. “It’s my best piece yet.”

“I’m glad.” Ominis said, sounding genuine. He shifted in his seat, stretching out his back and rolling his shoulders a few times. His body was stiff from posing for hours now.

Sebastian crossed the room over to him. “I just, I don’t know how to even thank you for letting me do this… How can I repay you?”

Ominis chuckled and shook his head slightly, “You don’t have to repay me, Sebastian. Like I said… knowing how you see me, as something special… It’s a nice feeling. That made be happier than you could know.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian asked, raising a brow, his voice growing playful. As quickly as the playfulness came on, it had passed, his next words sounding much more serious. He didn’t want them misconstrued as a joke. “I’m glad I could make you feel happy. You make me feel… more than just happy.”

Ominis’s cheeks flushed and he let out a sigh. He tilted his head up towards Sebastian’s voice. He could tell he was standing close in front of him. He slid forward off of the stool he had posed on, making Sebastian take a step back, else get bumped into. They were still standing closely enough to feel the others soft breathing.

They didn’t need words anymore. It was clear after the hours in this room together, their little bouts of flirting punctuating the long stretches of silence while Sebastian worked, their most recent sentiments towards each other... Their feeling were mutual and there was an understanding between them finally.

Sebastian smiled and exhaled the smallest laugh. He brought his hands to cup Ominis’s face, just holding it tenderly for a few moments, taking in the feel of his warm skin, before closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together firmly. Sebastian held the kiss for a few seconds before letting up, still holding his face gently, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

Ominis grinned and leaned his forehead against Sebastian’s and brushing their noses together. He rested his hands on Sebastian’s hips and brought his body closer. He spoke softly to Sebastian, “Well… I’d say you’ve thanked me for my time sufficiently, now.”

“I don’t know… You sat there for an awfully long time,” Sebastian reminded, bringing their lips together again, keeping him longer this time and humming in satisfaction as he took in the feel of Ominis’s lips with his own.

“And I’d do it again, if this was my repayment,” Ominis told him through a grin when their kiss broke.

“Well, I think you have yourself a deal then.”

Part Two!

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt #sebinis #gauntlow #hogwarts legacy fan fiction

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