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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months

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My precious Jewel ♧

Bale!Bruce Wayne x soon-to-be wife!reader

A/N: I got carried away. I'm very passionate about Bale!Bruce and just lost control at one point. I'm not sorry, hehe! This is for all my Bale!Bruce girlies. Can be read for any Bruce, though! Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: Bruce spoiling you to the high heavens and only wanting your love in return.

Requested by: my lovely mutual @vampkennedy

Warnings: NFSW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, very very fluffy, kinda possessive Bruce

Word count: 3.6k

PART 2 ♡

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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There was not a morning where you didn't wake up like this. You were alone, yes, but you knew he wasn't far. He never was. This had turned into a game of sorts. A spiel where he would shower you in lavish gifts every single morning. It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him and that you held his heart in your hands.

You sat up in your shared bed and stretched your arms, letting out a yawn. Your gaze fell to the sliver of light that your curtains couldn't keep out. Getting up, you followed it carefully, knowing that he wanted you to. He was Bruce Wayne, nothing was a coincidence. Everything was intenional. A small, red box sat on your vanity, a note right next to it. It was being perfectly illuminated by the slice of sunshine cutting through the darkness of the room. A smile crept onto your face as you read the note your lover had left you.

My beloved,

May this bring a sparkle to your life, just as you have brought to mine.

Love,

Bruce ♡

You rolled your eyes at how corny this was, but it still tugged at your heart strings in the best way possible. Every day there would be a new box and note for you to discover. Placing the gifts in just the right spot and, like today, draping the curtain just at the perfect angle to guide the way to his love. He was always awake before you were but that didn't stop him. He'd never missed a day and you doubt he ever would.

You looked forward to this as well, but not because of the jewelry or whatever other expensive gifts he had prepared. No. It was the notes. It were the cruelly scribbled down words that made your heart beat out of your chest.

You loved the gifts as well, but the notes held a special place in your heart. Putting down the piece of paper, you carefully picked up the tiny box and opened the lid. Your mouth fell slightly agape at the sight before you. In the smooth, white pillows sat a delicate necklace. It was glistening in the morning glow ever so nicely.

A beautifully crafted rose pendant hung from it, the intricate petals were cold to the touch as you gently grazed the tips of your fingers over them. This had been one of most extravagant presents he'd ever given you. Bruce did always call you his flower. You brought so much to his once dull and gray life; his heart and soul bloomed like the delicate daffodils did in early spring everytime he thought of you. You brought color and joy. Just like flowers did.

"Oh, Bruce..." you sniffled, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks. Carefully picking it up, you placed it around your neck and fastened the clasp. It fit perfectly, sitting ever so delicately on your skin. You admired yourself in your vanity mirror, your fingers slightly grazing the skin just around the necklace.

You couldn't wait to show Bruce. Yes, he'd picked it out but it looked so different on you than it did on the silken interior of the small box.

Throwing on one of your many, many silk robes that Bruce insisted on getting in every single color, you quickly made your way down the grand staircase. The cold marble tiles sending a delightfully cool feeling up your spine each time you took a step. You rushed down the stairs, a steady grasp on the railing. The sunlight streaming in through the many windows fell right onto your ring.

Slowing your pace, you held your hand up to the light and examined the shimmering band. A reminder of his love. He had proposed to you just a few days ago. It was incredibly special, just the two of you under the stars. He popped the question in the stunning garden of Wayne manor that Alfred worked so hard on.

Speaking of Alfred, he was more excited than either of you. He had to sit down and went through an entire box of tissues when you broke the news. What a kind soul. You had the dumbest smile on your face recalling the events from a couple of days ago. Letting out a squeal, you pressed your hands to your heart. You were getting married. Not only that, but to him. The love of your life.

You couldn't wait any longer, you had to see him. Hurrying the rest of the way to the dinning hall, you composed yourself before entering. And the sight. Dear God. Bruce was sat at the head of the table in his boxers and a white T-shirt, coffee cup in one hand, newspaper in the other. He looked so domestic, so peaceful. Not like previous nights where he'd limp in, all battered and bruised.

Slightly looking up, his furrowed brows were immediately replaced with a wide grin when he spotted you. Putting down the mug and the paper he got out of his chair, walking your way. You met him halfway, your arms thrown loosely around his neck as his snaked around your waist.

"If it isn't my beautiful wife." He grinned, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. "Ah, soon-to-be wife." You corrected him, the smile on your cheeks never leaving. He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "What took you so long, Honey?" He questioned softly. You laughed at his eagerness to see you. "I was held up by your generosity, Mr. Wayne." You teased, taking one of his hands and placing it on your collarbone, right next to the stunning piece of jewelry.

His gaze fell to your neck and his smile faded, leaving him wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. He tenderly caressed your soft skin with his thumb, tracing the shape of the necklace. "I knew it'd be perfect," He breathed out, followed by a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks flushed and you brought his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, Sweetheart. For all these precious gifts. For always making me wake up with a smile on my face. You've made me the happiest girl in the world." You confessed, the softest smile on your face. Bruce swear his heart just melted inside his chest. He made you the happiest girl in the world? You have no idea how happy you made him. He felt invincible, like the king of the world. He was convinced he only needed your love to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. You were his oxygen, the blood in his veins, the very spirit of his soul.

Bruce was determined to show you just how much you meant to him, if that was possible. "Anything for you, my love." He said, having the most adoring look in his eyes. You'd placed your hand on his cheek in the meantime, the golden engagement band cold against his skin. "I love you, Bruce." You whispered, gently leaning in for a tender kiss. He didn't hesitate, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You relaxed against his lips, tightening the grip you had on the back of his neck.

You needed more, you needed him. He chuckled against your lips but complied, deepening the kiss. Pulling away for air, you were breathless and your lips were puffy. He would kiss you breathless forever if he could. And God knows you would let him. His playboy days paid off for something because this man could kiss. And you loved how you were the only one to feel those kisses.

"Look at you. My eager, little wife." A sly smirk was on his face and he made sure to emphasize the last word. You opened your mouth to correct him again, but he quickly interrupted you with another breathtaking yet soft kiss. You didn't now why you were so easily flustered by his kisses, you'd been together for years. There just something so electric and new about being his. Truly being his. Him being yours.

"I know we're not married yet, but I can call you whatever I want. You're mine." He said lowly, pupils dilated. His grip on your waist tightend. He's never done that. Never called you his. Told you you were his. It was implied, of course, but he'd never said the actual words. You just stood there, face flushed to the high heavens with the biggest lovesick smile on your face. His tone softened again when he spoke.

"I want you to wear the necklace to the Gala tonight." Your brows furrowed and you slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What Gala?" You asked, no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, it's a... spontaneous thing. There's a new dress in the closet." He answered. You squinted your eyes in suspicion. "Spontaneous, huh? Also, we talked about this, Sweetheart. I don't need a new dress for every event! I've barely worn the other hundreds." You laughed.

He just grinned in response. You knew he loved to see you in something new each time, he loved spoiling you. Only the best for his love. "That's where we disagree. Would you wrap a diamond ring in used wrapping paper?" He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. "No, I wouldn't." You sighed.

"All the other dress just can't keep up with your inner beauty." He breathed, a soft look in his eyes. You folded. You could never be upset with him for long, you loved him too much. "Fine, I'll wear it. You're lucky I love you," you pouted. He wanted you to never stop saying that. That you loved him. Something he'd longed for, for so long. To be loved, truly loved. Not for his money, his status, his looks. But because of who he was. And you did just that. From the odd noises he made when he slept, to the extremely bad jokes he made. You were always there, tending to his wounds, whether they affected his body or his soul. Holding him so softly after a hard night, he feared you'd crumble under his calloused hands.

"Well, I'll get ready for the day. I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a quick peck to his lips. He hummed in response as you slipped from his grasp.

"Honey?" you turned around, already halfway up the stairs.

"There will be a lot more press and paparazzi there today," he said. "Why?" You asked curiously, fully turning around on the stairs. "They're expecting Mrs. Wayne." He shot you a wink and gave you one of those signature smiles as he walked away.

He was right. There were a lot more people. The streets leading up to the location were lined completely with camera wielding, and very nosy paparazzi and news anchors. Everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse. This was huge for the press. They probably thought that this day would never come. Bruce Wayne, Gothams millionaire playboy was settling down? Impossible. The moment you stepped out of the car they were all over you. Invading your personal space, shoving cameras and microphones in your face. This was sensational. They wanted to know more about the woman who tightly held Bruce Wayne's heart in her delicate hands.

They had written some pretty bad stuff about Bruce in the past, not that he cared. But when one peticular news article labeled you as just a trophy wife, all hell broke loose. He sued them until bankruptcy. How dare they. How dare they lable his wife, his world, his precious jewel, as just a trophy. You were the light of his life, you loved him and he loved you. He loved you more than they would ever know and he would burn them to the ground if they ever suggested otherwise again. No press had the guts to call you names again, or they would feel the wrath of a very in love Bruce Wayne.

He came to your rescue pretty quickly. Positioning himself between you and the paparazzi, acting as human shield. Bruce gently placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you through the doors. You let out a breath you didn't know you held.

"Jesus, do they not have better things to do.." you mumbled, hooking your arm with his. "This is their job, so no, Honey." He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. You knew that, but did they have to be so obnoxious? If they asked nicely maybe you would actually answer some of their absurd questions. You made your way into the center of the room where the upper class of Gotham was already mingling with a glass of very expensive champagne in hand.

Bruce couldn't stop glancing over at you. The floor length, satin gown was tailored to perfection, showing of your body in the best way. The rose necklace sat nicely around your neck, sparkling under the bright light of the many chandeliers. Your hair was in an updo, showing off your earrings perfectly as they lightly swaying as you walked. Your soft hands were decorated with the many rings he had showered you with, the extravagant engagement band catching everyone's eye.

God, you looked so elegant on his arm, almost floating along the granite floor. The bright smile on your lips melted his heart as you greeted people. Unimportant people, if you ask him. "You look absolutely beautiful, my love," he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck, sending a chill down your spine.

"You flatter me, Darling. I'm glad you wore this suit, it's my favorite," you gently ran your hand down his chest. It too, was tailored just right. His heart beat faster. He didn't know you had a favorite suit. One that you longed to see him wear because it just made him look that good. "What's this Gala for anyway?" You asked, toying with the lapel of his jacket.

"Oh, you know, just some... charity," he responded with a breathy laugh. You raised your eyebrows at him. Your eyes widened in realization and a knowing smirk made its way on your pretty face. "Did you plan this whole thing just to show me off?" You questioned amused. He stumbled over his words, a very rare occurrence.

"What? Of course not, Honey, that-that'd be absurd-" you interrupted him by pressing a finger over his lips. "Fine. Let them see. Let them see how much I love you." You whispered, smashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. One hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, the other was steadied on his chest. His hands instinctively snaked around your middle, holding you tightly.

All eyes were on you, hushed whispers and gasps filling the room. You pulled away, chest heaving. Bruce's pupils were dilated. "God, you're perfect..." he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't wait to leave this stupid event and shower you in his affection.

The Gala was a success and you were finally back at the manor. You were standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom and admired yourself one last time before you'd take it all off. Bruce came up behind you, the jacket of his suit discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, trailing kisses along your exposed skin. You let out a breathy laugh. "Look who's eager now," you teased.

Bruce chuckled against your neck. "Can you blame me when you look like that?" He said lowly. He dragged his hands up your back and slowly pulled the zipper to your dress down. With a gentle brush of his hand, he let the dress slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your panties, which quickly joined your gown and the floor as he pushed them down your plush hips.

"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" You said softly, yet seductively as he continued placing wet kisses along your bare shoulder and neck. "You tell me, Honey," he answered. The taste of your skin was intoxicating. You turned around, putting your hands on his chest and slowly pushing him towards the bed. When the back of his thighs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling you into his lap.

"I think you are," you mumbled hazily, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the ground. You moved your hips over his hard cock, straining against his pants. A low groan erupted from his throat at your actions. You could feel your wetness dripping from you, leaving a wet patch on his crotch. He pulled you in for a desperate kiss as you reached down to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants.

Bruce was left in his boxers, which were quickly taken care of. His throbbing cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You took his dick into your ring clad hand and pumped up and down a few times, making his head fall back. "Fuck, Baby..." he groaned, squeezing your hips. Lifting your hips, you lined his length up with your pussy and sank down onto it, a long moan falling from your lips. "G-God.. you fit so well. It's like you were made for me.." you mumbled out, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. He was made for you, he was sure of it. He was yours, until the end.

He moaned out your name when you started moving your hips, which he guided with his hands. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, occasionally tugging and pulling at it. Bruce looked up at you as you bounced on his cock. Your beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, and the jewelry he had bought you still adorned you so nicely. There was a layer of sweat covering your skin, making you shine. Just like your necklace glistened in the dimly lit room. You looked like a Goddess above him, decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry. Jewelry he bought for you.

God, he wasn't sure he wanted to fuck you another way ever again. Your ring was cold against his skin, reminding him that you were his. For him to take, however he pleased. He would buy every diamond in Gotham if it meant having a sight like this before him. Your hips started moving faster, as you moaned. "Shit...M'getting c-close," you breathed out, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

He was almost upset at you for taking away his privilege of admiring you, but he never got the chance once he heard your cute little moans and whines right beside his ear. "Me too, Honey, keep going.." he panted. You pressed your body to his, your tits sitting beautifully against his chest. Bruce glanced down and saw the curves of your soft tits adorned with the stunning necklace.

It molded to their curve so perfectly, making him tighten the grip on your hips, frantically moving you up and down his cock. He chased his release, your warm, wet walls feeling too good. You gasped as his dick hit that one that that made your head spin. "Oh fuck, I can't wait to call you my husband.." you rambled out, barely registering what you'd confessed.

That pushed him over the edge as he shot his load inside you with a guttural groan, filling you up. Your husband. That was music to his ears. That's all he wants, to be yours, to be loved by you. You clenched around him and came with a cry of his name. Panting, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Did you mean that?" He asked quietly, kneading the flesh of your hips.

"Did I mean what?" You asked, breathing heavily. Bruce hestitated, letting out a nervous chuckle. "That you can't wait to call me your husband."

"Oh.. I did. I love you so much, Sweetheart. More than you'll ever know. My heart is yours, Bruce," you said softly, stroking his cheek. "I love you too, Honey." He responded, kissing you passionately.

"I'll draw us a bath," you breathed, raking your fingers through his locks. He hummed in response, reluctantly letting go of you. You slipped off his cock. He watched his cum trickling down your thigh as you walked towards the bathroom. He groaned at the sight, falling back onto the bed with a smile.

Bruce was laying with his head against your chest, surrounded by bubbles and soap. His back was pressed to your front and your hands were wrapped around him. You could feel him relax against you, the tension in his shoulders fading. "I keep them, you know," you said softly from behind him. The water rippled as he turned his head to look at you.

"Keep what?" He asked. "The notes. The ones you always place next to my gifts? I keep all of them," you spoke, tracing patterns on his pecs. "You do?" He smiled. "Yeah, I read them when you're gone and I'm feeling sad. They're in a box in my nightstand." You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you so much, Honey," he said quietly. "I love you more, Bruce."

From that moment on, he put more effort into his notes. They keep getting longer and longer, almost turning into letters as he confessed his love to you every single day. You would still read them when you're old and gray, because his love for you would never fade. Just like how your love for him would never be lost to time, you would love him until the end, continuing in your next life. Your souls and hearts were bound, and they would never stop searching until they found eachother once again.

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#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #the dark knight #batman begins #the dark knigth rises #christian bale #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne smut

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

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Clandestine Meetings

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Prompts / Request

“Go and lock the door for me. I don’t want anyone to walk in while I’m balls deep.”

“Go get one of your toys. Let’s make this even better.”

“Is that gonna fit?” “I’ll make it fit.”

Warnings: Jealousy, Emotionally Stunted Natasha

Smut: Natasha has a penis, Daddy(N), Detka/Whore(R), Nipple Clamps, Vibrating Egg, Oral(R), Unprotected Sex/Breeding, Choking, Edging/Teasing, Orgasm Denial.

18+ | Minors DNI

"I want love Nat, you just want a quick fuck."

The words you whispered to her over a month ago have been bouncing around her mind the entire time, plaguing her very soul. It got to the point where while away on her mission she couldn't even focus on the objective anymore.

Who were you to just come to a conclusion like that without so much as a conversation?

——

Not a, "Nat, we need to talk," or a "I'm not sure we want the same things Nat, correct me if I'm wrong here," and she would've corrected you. Because you were so far off base, all Natasha wanted was to love you, she just didn't know how to do that outside of worshipping you in deeply passionate moments that usually ended just as fast as they began, and left you alone.

Now here you lay on the compounds couch in your sleep shorts, a sight the redhead would love to see every morning in her own room. Waking up beside you would be a dream new experience, potentially challenging, but she knows that she'd grow to love the situation.

Natasha already loved you—desperately so.

The only obstacle here had been her inability to make her loving intentions clear to you. She'd always been a bit more on the vulgar side, and you seemed into it for awhile, but one random night you shoved her away and that was just it.

As soon as she figured herself out, she was going to make things right with you. But there was apparently a new obstacle, because right now your head was settled into another's lap. Carol was listening to you ramble on while mindlessly stroking your cheek. Natasha envied the blonde's ability to offer such an intimate moment without any real effort.

When she saw how much the woman enjoyed your presence she felt her heart shattering into tiny, jagged pieces. With her jaw clenched she rushed out of the kitchen and went straight to her room where she allowed a stray tear to fall. Then she reached for her phone, and sent you a text message: Meet me in my room in 5 !

Carol smiled down at you knowingly when she heard the ding of your phone, "I told you to go after her Y/N, she didn't seem very pleased."

"Yeah, and I don't give a fuck," you huffed, arms crossing over your chest, and the blonde cackled wildly at the sign of faux indifference before she returned to a more serious state.

"Y/N, ever since she's been gone all you've done is mope around this place, but oh look, the day she's back you suddenly appear before me with a sunny disposition and expect me not to see right through it? Answer her text and maybe even go get laid, you're insufferable."

"Carol," you groaned, hands flying to your face to hide the mortification in your eyes at the brutal call out, "She doesn't want me," you pouted, "at least not in the way I want her to."

"Did she say that?" Carol asks while lazily drawing circles on your shoulder to calm you.

"She didn't have to say it out loud..."

"Oh Y/N," she tilted your head so you would be facing her, she caressed your cheek then spoke, "Natasha isn't exactly known for expressing her feelings in ways that make sense, so how about you put your big girl pants on, and force her to say the words she couldn't manage to before."

You huffed while glaring up at her, knowing she was right, but in the same breath you snatched your phone up, and read the message while rolling your eyes, a bitter chuckle leaving you as you saw the song that happened to have been softly playing at the time of arrival.

After a moment of soul searching you took off to her bedroom in a frenzied ball of nerves. Entering her space felt both comfortingly familiar, and extremely uneasy. Seeing her sat on the bed in sweats with her legs manspread, leaning back on her exposed muscular arms as she wore a cami without a bra you felt your body tingle with need, and your mouth go dry.

With a sly smirk, and a crook of her finger you made your way further into the room, but she left you to be blanketed in an awkward silence. It was clear she didn't actually expect you to be here, and now that you were she was weighing out her options, but just like usual, she was not able to articulate the right words like: I missed you, I love you, or please, don't leave again...

"Go and lock the door for me. I don't want anyone to walk in while I'm balls deep," the redhead commanded dryly, and though the thought of her inside you alone nearly brought you to your knees, you rolled your eyes instead and went to hurriedly walk away again.

Natasha ran after you, catching you by the wrist to prevent you from leaving, "Y/N, stop doing this okay," she pinched the bridge of her nose, and softly sighed, "I don't know how to do all of this, vulnerability isn't my strong suit, okay? Just let me show you instead..."

You furrowed your brows, and she sighed exasperatedly, "Give me a chance, please."

Saying no to her would be in vain, because it was all you wanted to finally be beneath her, so you nodded without really much hesitation.

Natasha leaned in to kiss you, the first time in your whole arrangement that she'd done it with any semblance of care present. Normally it's all teeth clashing, and tongues sloppily gliding over the other while she brought you to bliss.

Up until now Natasha has only ever offered you quick moments, with only her hands or mouth diligently bringing you over that glorious edge. Never had she actually shown you tenderness, but more importantly, she had yet to fuck you with the bulge poking you through her pants.

Natasha wasn't ready to give you all of her, it was actually something she'd never done with another person that she loved before. She's screwed girls before, usually as a means to an end, with their faces smushed into a mattress, but she couldn't bring herself to do it with you. No matter how desperate she was for release after hearing and seeing you come undone for her, or how prettily you'd beg to help her out each time, she just couldn't cross that line.

But now, she knew it was all she could do to make sure you understand, that you feel her in every sense possible, and feel her love for you.

"Na-Natasha," breathlessly you stuttered out her name as your hips reflexively canted into hers, "I need you daddy, please, fill me up."

Natasha groaned, pulling away from your lips she smirked devilishly, you could see the flicker of mischief in her gaze as she leaned down to suck a mark onto your smooth skin, "Go get one of your toys. Let's make this even better."

The knob twisted in her hands this time, she watched in amusement as you scurried across the hall to your room in your mussed up state.

"Look at how desperate you already are detka," she slammed you back into the door as soon as you crossed the threshold, the door slammed close with the impact and you moaned weakly.

Surveying the items in your hands she softly chuckled, "Oh, you're in for it now Y/N, gonna give you all of me so you can finally understand what my true intentions with you are."

This time when she kissed you it was with a bit of urgency, her hands contrastingly gripped your hips softly, and without ever breaking the kiss she walked your body over to the mattress. Natasha lowered you down gently, and as she rose back up she collected the nipple clamps and the vibrating bullet from your hands.

"May I?" Natasha gestured to your body, and you smiled gratefully, no matter how quickly she usually took you, she'd always been keen on hearing consent. "Please, do it already."

The sleep clothes were quickly discarded, and her lips latched onto your risen buds instantly. Her tongue rolled around your nipple slowly, causing your breath to shallow as you were overrun with pleasurable anticipation. After a moment she released your nipple with a pop, giving you only seconds to adjust to the chill on your wetted skin before she attached a clamp.

Natasha caught your hand before it could mindlessly tug the clamp off, "It's okay detka," she shushed you softly, tenderly smiling down at you as she slid her fingers between yours, "You're okay," she gently brushed her lips over your knuckles before laying your interlocked hands on top of the mattress. A whimper left you as you were overrun with a overdue sense of comfort from her, then you were moaning when her lips returned to your heated skin.

"I'm going to ruin you Y/N," she growled around your other nipple before she bit into the hypersensitive skin, "No one will ever touch you again after I leave a mark on what's mine."

"Say it," she growled as she hovered over you, but before you could even try she was clamping your sore bud, effectively making you wince.

"Oh shit," you gasped when she gave the chain a harsh tugging to ensure it was properly attached, the accompanying pain was dizzying.

"I asked you to say something," she leered over you, hand now wrapped around your throat in a way that not only intimidated you but left you absolutely dripping onto her expensive sheets.

Natasha watched your brainless eyes searching for a response, it took you a minute, but you were finally about to open your mouth, but all that came out was a lewd moan as she pressed the vibrating egg into your slicked up cunt.

"Come on now detka, you know I don't like to be made to wait," she tightened her hand around your throat, something that only ever adds to your pleasure, and she knew that, it was honestly her favorite, slowly draining the life from you as she brought your body to euphoria, only to spare you in the last second.

She was a bit of a sadist. You didn't mind...

Something about that control was exhilarating, seeing your eyes grow hazier with every second as you harshly choked never failed to make her cock twitch. Maybe it was the underlying way in which you trusted her to never go too far, it had her overwhelmed with unwavering joy.

After allowing you a moment of pure bliss she deemed it enough, so she tore it away from you, ripping the vibe out of you and watching in amusement as your eyes filled with tears, and your lip was now caught between your teeth, "Daddy no, please, I-I was so close."

Your whimpering always affected her greatly, she gets off to the memory of you begging all the time, so it's no surprise to her that her cock was painfully straining against her boxers.

"Whores that forgot how to speak don't get to cum!" Natasha spat, the underlying tone full of pain telling you she meant more than in this moment, your constant distancing hurt her.

"Natty," you tried to apologize, but she only grew angrier, her hand harshly gripped your face, and she hovered over you with a furious gaze, you hated to admit it but it sent a pang of arousal down to your already dripping cunt, "That's not my fucking name slut, try again."

"Daddy," you whimpered, and she softened momentarily as she leaned in to kiss your lips, "Better, but I no longer want to hear you, so lets shut that pretty brain of yours off," she pecked your lips once more before her lips trailed down your body in quick succession.

The sound of buzzing as she now faced your cunt left you with widened eyes, this new dynamic was throwing you off honestly. So used to a quick release this newfound joy of hers spurring from teasing you was alarming. You began to wonder if the loveless sex was better, but deep down you knew it wasn't, especially when she edged you so deliciously.

Natasha held the vibe just out of reach of your clit, a test of sorts that she wanted you to fail. "Daddy's gonna get a taste now detka," she murmured against the lush skin of your thighs as she moved to further mark her territory.

After minutes of torture, where she barely swiveled the egg over your bundle of nerves you finally caved and canted your hips up. Natasha bit harshly into your thigh, blaming you for moving as she moved to hover over your face, "There's a time and a place for your pleasure, and this isn't it, now stay still Y/N!"

"Sorry daddy," you sniffled wetly, drawing her back out of her lust driven haze, and the sight of you so broken was honestly picturesque, it brought a lopsided smirk to her plump lips.

Natasha usually moved only to please you, but in this moment, she wanted you desperate. So needy, hopelessly dependent upon her touch, this way you'll never look for anyone else again. Looking into your eyes now she saw that was already your truth, you were so lost in the pleasure that she was hardly giving, "It's okay detka, you know daddy will take care of you."

Natasha kissed you until you were breathless, then when you were reduced to a heaving mess she returned to your thighs, she placed a few soft kisses there before finally diving into you.

With the vibrator pressed firmly into your clit, and her tongue deep inside you it was all you could do to make a mess of her face, a scream of pleasure echoed off her walls, and Natasha pulled back with an accomplished smile. The sight of her as your slick was dripping down her chin made your body shiver, that unraveled coil started to retighten, and your hazy eyes slammed shut as you tried to calm down.

Natasha teasingly rutted her hips into yours, you could feel her straining against her boxers when she stilled, and you couldn't help but to squirm when she made no move to fuck you.

Natasha chuckled as she felt your desperation, she softly continued to push her sizable bulge down against your slit, the irritating fabric separating your sexes actually brought you a slice of pleasure when it grazed over your clit. It would never be enough though, your hips began to jerk up to meet hers, desperation fueling you, and Natasha could feel it wholly.

She truly loved teasing you, feeling the way your aromatic slick soaked through her boxers, it only became too much for her once you were whining pitifully in her ear, making her twitch without reprieve, so without much warning she jumped up, leaving you to cry at the loss of friction, but the protests died on your tongue when you saw her dick spring free, it was huge.

"Is that gonna fit?" you visibly gulped, wide eyes watching as the tip of her cock hit her abdomen as she slowly sauntered over to you with an obnoxiously hot smirk overtaking her face as she hovered over you, "I'll make it fit."

Her lips pressed to yours, instinctually yours parted, Natasha's tongue slid into your mouth as her tip pushed passed your entrance, and you latched onto her tongue as you moaned. A shiver ran down the redheads spine when your walls simultaneously squeezed her thick shaft making it near impossible for her to fill you up.

The way that your warmth enveloped her cock made her fearful that she'd bust without even thrusting as she bottomed out, "Fuck, you feel so good Y/N, you're taking me so well detka."

Her hand sought yours out for grounding, and when you felt her interlock her fingers with yours again your eyes fluttered open to see her deepened green pair staring back into yours. The eye contact was intense, and arousing, but incredibly hard to keep when you felt her begin to thrust slowly, and relatively deeply into you.

"Keep em open," Natasha panted, your eyes slowly fluttered back open, fighting against the insurmountable pleasure, "Wanna see you."

It was a struggle, but you somehow managed to keep your eyes partially open for the ferocious women pounding into you with strong hips. The brutal pace she set was building you up quick, you never knew how much you needed her until now, she felt too good, the way she stretched you out left you gasping, and with every thrust her bulbous tip drove you wild.

With her hand in yours, and eyes locked you were overwhelmed by a love you were truly convinced didn't exist. The one that pulsed inside you the closer she got to her release, the love she needed verbally reciprocated to finish, "Say it detka," Natasha whispered breathlessly just as she twitched inside of you, "Please..."

"I'm yours Nat," you dopily confirmed with an amused tone, the moment was however short lived as a scream was torn from your throat, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she let go inside of you, hot spurts of white filled your womb to the brim, and your body trembled without reprieve. "I-I need you Y/N, please don't leave me again, I'll do better..."

"Nat," you managed to squeak out her name in between your pants, "If you don't run, I won't."

"I'll never run again detka," she pressed her lips to your cheek, then trailed them down until she was resting in the crook of your neck, "I promise, we'll learn how to love together."

"Oh, I know how to love," you teased with a deliberate clenching of your walls, "Shit Y/N."

You flipped your positions before she could even recover, harshly grinding down against her as you did, did the trick when you could feel the way her cock hardened once more.

"It's my turn to show you," you winked, and the redhead smirked, a long drawn out sigh leaving her lips as you began to grind down into her.

———

3,075 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff pov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg #black widow #black widow smut

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wlykjh · 12 days

Text

knight in shining armor

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

masterlist

can you tell I’m in love with writing period pieces 🤭 (even if they’re not that historically accurate…) ALSO PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS 🙏🙏🙏 btw, italics is y/n's thoughts and bold is euneok's thoughts.

summary: y/n’s a college student majoring in history on a school trip to a historical castle in england. somehow she and her academic rival, eunseok, get stuck in a secret chamber in the castle which ends up transporting them to the 1300s! will the pair overcome their differences and manage to get back to the 21st century? (not proofread)

date: 04/09/24

scenario themes: time travel, enemies to lovers, period piece

idol: song eunseok or eunseok of riize

concept: fluff, fantasy

warnings: swearing

word count: 12k (i got a bit carried away)

song eunseok is an exchange student from korea who makes your college life a living hell.

you love studying history, especially the entirety of medieval england. you’re even writing your senior thesis on english nobility during the medieval period.

unfortunately for you, eunseok excels at history as well.

since you have such a huge passion for history, you’ve always naturally excelled at it. you tend to be a bit of a try-hard when it comes to school and that bit increases tenfold when it’s anything history-related.

it’s immature to compete so openly with a peer at this age. to many, ‘rivals’ are a high school concept. and yet, something about the way eunseok knows every detail about chinese foot-binding practices and confidently leads discussions about the cold war makes your eye twitch.

history is your thing.

you know you sound crazy, but it’s not like it was completely one-sided. eunseok hates not being the smartest in the room.

he worked his ass off to learn english, leave korea, and get a scholarship at your university. there’s no way he was going to settle for mediocrity.

and of course he noticed how intensely you glared at him when he answered a question you were dying to answer.

just like you noticed how annoyed he was when you would mention getting a slightly higher grade than him on a paper.

you were both in the same major which meant you had a lot of overlapping courses, and unfortunately for your professors and classmates, you almost always ended up in the same class.

for the most part you tried to ignore eunseok outside of class. sure he was the bane of your existence for the hour and a half lecture on roman architecture, but outside that he was none of your concern.

eunseok on the other hand found himself thinking of you quite often. it’s not like he always disliked you. in fact, he found your passion for history admirable, and he thought your dedication to your coursework was cute.

but when you began treating him coldly and sending him glares from across the room, he was quick to react in the same way.

eunseok isn’t stupid, he knows why you dislike him, and that if he was less of an overachiever, you’d maybe warm up to him. but he’s not going to jeopardize his grades and hard work to please some girl… no matter how much he’d like to get to know said girl.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, but there isn’t a soul on this earth that could waterboard that information out of you.

to put it simply, you can’t stand each other.

but right now that doesn’t matter. nothing matters. because you’re going on a trip set up by the history department to riize castle in england.

it might just be another old site to everyone else, but it's your absolute favorite castle. you know the entire history of the building, you've studied the floor plans an embarrassing amount of times, and have spent most of your childhood yearning to go there, and that dream is finally coming true.

and not even eunseok could ruin it for you... or so you thought.

your flight was set for 3 am, and while the other students were groggily arriving at the airport one by one, annoyed at both the timing and the expenses they'd have to cover for the trip, you were elated.

that is until you received your boarding passes and found out you would be spending the entirety of the 10-hour flight from california to england seated next to the one person you abhor.

maybe he's less insufferable outside of class, you thought to yourself.

after your group boarded you sat down next to him and the two of you continued to sit in awkward silence until takeoff. but once the plane began moving, you noticed eunseok starting to shuffle around and breathe heavier.

"are you alright?" you asked, glancing at his trembling hands gripping onto the armrest. "yes." he responded immediately.

"don't you go back to korea every school break, how are you scared of flying-" before you could finish your sentence, eunseok grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly.

you were about to interject but you realized the plane was beginning to ascend so he must've been frightened.

his hand was warm and soft, despite his trembling, the foreign feeling of his hand on yours was comfortable.

as soon as the plane was fully in the air, he let go of your hand as if nothing happened and picked out a book from his carry-on.

"um.. are you okay?" you questioned, confused at his sudden behavior change. "i get a bit nervous during takeoff and landings, i'm usually fine during the rest of the flight so you don't have to worry about me holding your hand for the next ten hours." he deadpanned.

"a bit? you were shaking like a leaf." you chortled. he rolled his eyes in response, going back to his book.

it was then that you realized you stupidly hadn't brought any entertainment with you for the trip, and your flight didn't have wi-fi either.

you decided the only thing you could do to remain sane in this situation is fall asleep, it was 3 in the morning after all.

leaning your head as far back as the stiff seats would allow, you closed your eyes and drifted off.

approximately five hours later, you woke up with a crick in your neck and an odd numbness on the side of your mouth. opening your eyes slowly, you were greeted with the site of eunseok's shirt directly beneath you with a large wet spot.

holy shit.

you fell asleep on eunseok's shoulder and drooled all over his shirt. if he didn't say anything this far he's probably going to the next 5 hours you're on this flight.

you haven't moved your head yet, scared that if you indicate you're awake, he's going to hold this against you until the end of time.

panicking, you accidentally jolted your stiff neck up, causing your chin to collide directly with eunseok's.

fuck. well there goes my cover.

"ow!" you both exclaimed in unison. "was drooling over me not enough? you had to break my jaw too?" he grumbled, rubbing his chin.

"you could've moved my head!" you defended, flustered. straightening yourself up, you wiped the side of your mouth awkwardly.

instead of responding, he grabbed a napkin from his bag and handed it to you.

"thank you." you said, taken aback.

why is he being so nice?

"i'm... sorry for ruining your shirt," you mumbled. "it's no big deal." he shrugged.

was this the same eunseok that commented "worst thing I've ever read." on your peer-graded essay?

maybe you could mend things with him during this trip. after all, he did seem pretty excited when the announcement was made.

"so... have you ever been to england before?" you began, initiating small-talk.

"can we just sit in silence?" he replied coldly.

nevermind, he's still just as much of an asshole as ever.

shit. why did I say that? eunseok thought to himself.

the truth is, you made him nervous. whether it was your icy stare or your intimidatingly vast knowledge on history, he could never let his guard down around you.

the rest of the flight was spent with the two of you refusing to so much as face each other until landing.

as the plane was about to descend, you noticed eunseok starting to take deep breaths. part of you wanted to extend a hand, but the other part of you wanted to throw him off the plane.

deciding to be the bigger person, you asked "are you alright?"

"I'm not a child." he croaked.

"I didn't say you were." you sassed.

"then stop talking to me like I am one." he began, growing more irritated.

the two of you began to go back and forth, and before you knew it you had landed. eunseok managed to forgot all about his fear because of how unbelievably petty the two of you were.

"will you guys shut up!?" a passenger behind you shouted, causing the both of you to stop arguing.

annoyed, you got out of your seat as quickly as you could and made a beeline for the baggage claim, waiting for your bags.

how do you keep getting forced into these kinds of situations with him? were you some kind of monster in your past life? was he your karma?

once you and the rest of your group received your luggage, you headed to the hotel. due to the time zone difference, it was already 9 pm in london so your group supervisors told everyone to get some sleep so you could head to the castle in the morning.

whether it was because of the nap you took on the plane, or simply how excited you were, you couldn't sleep at all.

staring at the clock reading 1 a.m. in your hotel room, you decided to try catching a glimpse of the castle before everyone else woke up at 7. it wasn't your brightest idea, but it's not like you had anything else to do.

you managed to get past your sleeping roommates, throwing on a jacket and slipping out the door. coincidentally, eunseok couldn't sleep either, and he decided to go for a walk around the hotel at the same moment you decided to leave.

spotting your figure leaving the hotel and heading off towards the street, he couldn't help but follow you.

was this extremely stalker-ish? yes. but what if she got hurt or kidnapped? we're in a different country after all. not like I care if she gets hurt or kidnapped... but if she did it would ruin our trip! so I have no choice but to follow her eunseok reasoned.

it didn't take long for him to figure out where you were going. the hotel is extremely close to the castle, after all. once you reached, you stared at the castle from afar, marveling at it.

you waited for this moment your whole life, and it was even more beautiful in person. there's no way you could turn back now. you have to see it closer.

carefully maneuvering past the gates, you managed to miraculously sneak in, and there didn't seem to be any security guards present.

what the hell is she doing? this is illegal!

what the hell am I doing? this is illegal!

you thought about turning back, but your curiosity was eating you up inside. you had to go see what the interior of the castle looked like.

thanks to your insanely intensive study of the building, you managed to find a secret opening that not many people knew of and you quickly slipped inside, hoping nobody would notice.

however, someone--that someone being eunseok--definitely did notice. and he mentally cursed himself for following you this far, wondering why he couldn't bring himself to turn back.

slipping through the opening, he entered a completely dark hallway, unsure of where you were.

you had dreamed of walking these corridors your whole life, and even without any light you were able to manuever around the halls.

unfortunately, eunseok couldn't say the same, and when he started walking, it didn't take long for him to bump into a stand of knight armor.

the loud crashing was enough to trigger an alarm system and turn on emergency lights, which exposed both eunseok and you to one another.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you shrieked "what the hell are YOU doing here?" he retorted.

you knew it wasn't long until authorities would arrive, so you grabbed eunseok and began running further into the castle.

"what are you doing? we need to leave!" he yelled.

"if we leave, they'll just catch us on our way out. we need to hide somewhere they won't look."

dragging him by the arm, you rushed into the old servant chambers, diving into the closet. well... what you thought was the closet.

what it actually was was a secret set of stairs that the two of you fell down, leading to a small room that you've never seen before.

impossible. i've watched every virtual tour, studied every reconstruction plan, read every primary source document... and i've never heard of this room.

"great. now we're stuck in a dark, cramped, dusty room in the middle of a castle that's going to be searched any second now and it's all your fault-" eunseok ranted, stopping midway when he saw you staring bewildered at the room.

"what's wrong with you?" he poked your shoulder.

"i... didn't know this room existed." you whispered.

"it's an old castle, I'm sure there's plenty of secret rooms everywhere... you think this is where the servants used to smash?"

"shhh" you urged him, hearing distant footsteps.

"what are we gonna do?" he sighed.

"let's just lay low until they leave. I doubt they'll look for us here. and don't touch ANYTHING. this room might be undiscovered and contain hundreds of year's worth of preserved artifacts-"

you were interrupted by eunseok toppling over a candle.

"EUNSEOK!" you whisper-shouted. "I'm trying to get some light in here." he defended.

fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a lighter before picking the candle off the floor and lighting it. once the room was illuminated, you could see your surroundings much better.

the room was stacked with cabinets and shelves containing miscellaneous items, it must've been used for storage. it seemed to have some personal items that belonged to servants.

you heard the footsteps start to get closer, and a voice appeared right outside the closet doors. looking to eunseok, you began panicking.

"blow the candle out! now!" you whispered.

eunseok blew out the candle and right as he did, the door creaked open.

shit.

"I know my rights!" eunseok yelled at the foreign figure coming closer.

"what are you talking about?" a woman's voice echoed throughout the room.

a middle-aged woman appeared with a candle in hand, dressed in a long cloth dress, similar to the ones maids would wear centuries ago.

"are you some kind of role-play tour guide? I didn't even know they did those tours this late into the night." he asked, confused.

"what? why is he speaking like that? and why are you two alone in here? and what happened to your clothes?" the woman interrogated.

the both of you had messed up your clothes running through the castle and falling down the stairs. your shirt was ripped up and dusty and his jacket was covered in cobwebs.

"oh, I see. the two of you are following eleanor and harold's example and fooling around in here! how many times must I tell you kids not to fornicate in the storage closet! go back upstairs and fulfill your duties." she reprimanded the two of you.

"told you they fucked in here." eunseok whispered to you.

you shoved him in the arm before responding "ma'am I appreciate your dedication to your job, but can you just tell us if you're going to turn us into the cops or not?"

"what are the... cops?" she exaggerated. you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you might be obsessed with history, but at least you can accept the fact that you live in the present.

"let's just leave." you turned to eunseok. "and get arrested? absolutely not." he crossed his arms.

"who is getting arrested?" the woman gasped. "you know damn well who, lady." he scoffed.

"lady?! I'm simply a chambermaid! have you hit your head?" she exclaimed.

"you know what, you're right. I'd rather get arrested than deal with this crap any longer." he sighed as the two of you began making your way up the stairs.

when you reached the top, you noticed the decor had changed drastically and the windows were letting in sunlight. wasn't it just 1 in the morning?

men and women dressed in modest, cloth clothing were running in and out of the halls and rooms.

"y/n... what's going on?" eunseok tugged at your dirty shirt. "it must be some kind of role-play experience? I'm not sure... how long were we in there?"

"you two must change out of your soiled garments!" the elder woman said, handing you a long dress and eunseok a matching set.

"wait! what's your name, and what's going on?" you sputtered, just as the woman was about to walk away.

"now I'm sure you've hit your heads. I'm agatha, head chambermaid and in one week from now is the duel of knights. we are hosting for the first spell in a decade and tis in a week. now get up and get to work!" agatha demanded.

dumbfounded, you and eunseok simply stared at the clothes she handed you. "let's just go along with it. maybe we can pretend we're a part of whatever this is and avoid getting in trouble." you urged.

"what about the rest? won't they notice we're gone?" he worried. "let's just focus on getting out of here."

he nodded in response and the two of you rushed to find a place to change into your clothes. once you were changed, you walked out and led eunseok back to the secret entrance.

to your surprise, the parking lot that was once set up in front of the castle had been replaced with a moat. a large moat at that. with a ginormous drawbridge leading to a dirt path. the city looked different as well, with the cars being replaced with horse carriages and once large, gray buildings now appearing much smaller and made of stone and wood.

"is there some city-wide renaissance fair happening? are we getting pranked? where's the cameras?" eunseok whipped his head around, waiting to see john quinones pop up at any second.

"is this a dream? did i go unconscious during the fall down the stairs? quick, y/n! pinch me."

you did so eagerly.

"ow! what the hell? I didn't mean literally." he complained, rubbing his arm.

"will you shut up? i need to find out what's going on." you huffed. pulling out your phone, you saw that there was no signal or wi-fi network available nearby. "that's weird, I swore the website said the castle had guest wi-fi." you muttered.

"i have an international data plan, let me try," eunseok whipped out his phone, only to find there was no signal on his device either.

"do you think... maybe, we're actually back in the medieval times?" you shuddered.

eunseok never laughed louder in his life.

"yes, y/n. we time traveled like we're in back to the future! should I call you marty? or do you want to be the old scientist?" he cackled.

"his name is doc brown. and I'm being serious," you began, "how else would all these buildings change overnight, and why else would all these people be wearing clothes from a different time period. look around: there's not a phone, car, or even pavement road in sight. there's no way we were in the castle long enough for them to make all those changes either."

"let's just talk to an actual sane person here and I'm sure they'll explain everything." he assured.

just then, a young woman wearing a silk blue gown walked past, surrounded by two men in armor.

"excuse me, miss. sorry to interrupt your little role-play party but my friend and i were wondering if we could use your phone to make a quick call." eunseok asked.

one of the men rushed forward, "halt! how dare thee speak so freely to her highness, the crown princess."

eunseok rolled his eyes, "i'm not hitting on your chick, dude, i just want to use a phone."

the armor-clad man suddenly put his sword up to eunseok's neck. "what the hell?" eunseok exclaimed.

"release him! who are you sir and why doth thee use such... peculiar language?" the princess implored.

"you people are psychos. no way you're taking this shit so seriously." eunseok grumbled, rubbing his neck after the guard let him go.

"answer her highness!" the other guard insisted.

"we are travelers, here to observe the duel of knights! I must apologize for my companion, he is delirious from traveling all day." you interjected, grabbing eunseok and beginning to walk away.

"wait! your companion is… quite handsome. and his odd way of speaking is rather charming. i wish for him to compete for my hand during the duel!" the princess chirped.

"yeah right, you're crazy if you think I'm gonna-" eunseok was interrupted by your hand slapping over his mouth.

"whatever you wish, your highness." you responded, bowing curtly.

"wondrous! I would also like to invite thee to stay at my manor. surely a handsome man like you is a person of importance." she batted her lashes at him.

"no thanks weirdo-"

"we would love to! we thank you kindly for the offer your highness!" you interrupted eunseok again.

"oh I must have misspoke. I did not invite your mistress, only you." she spoke, shooting daggers at you.

"mistress?!" you gasped which made eunseok send you a shit-eating grin.

"actually, I would prefer my mistress stays with me, if that's alright 'your highness'" eunseok mocked.

the princess rolled her eyes and agreed reluctantly. once the princess and her guards were out of sight, you turned to eunseok. "see how those men didn't hesitate to hurt you? we're clearly in a different place!"

"yeah, a place where people have lost their minds." he scoffed.

"and her dress! it was real silk and embroidered with gold! I doubt a cosplayer has enough money to pull that off, especially in this economy." you tried convincing him.

"fine. lets say we really time-traveled to the 14th century and the princess wants me to join a little duel for her hand. does that mean...

... that i'm hot by both modern and medieval standards?"

you may not like eunseok, but he is quite attractive. it's no wonder his looks attracted the affections of a princess.

"eunseok! will you take this seriously? she wants you to participate in the duel of knights for her, do you understand how dangerous that is?" you practically screamed at him.

"yeah yeah the duel of knights is a fight to the death between the most skilled swordsmen of a kingdom for the right to court noblewomen and the princess. i know it may be hard for you to believe but i passed our medieval history class y/n." he quipped.

"and you realize you will be fighting those men to the death, right?" you asked.

"sure, i'll fight a bunch of history nerds in party city costumes." he chuckled.

you grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him in the direction of the city center… or what used to be the city center and now looked like a town square.

"we really need to talk- about boundaries because you-hey! can't keep dragging me around like a ragdoll-" he struggled as you continued tugging him into the busy streets.

"i'll stop when you quit being so stubborn. i'm gonna show you just how real this is." you stormed.

by the time you reached the city you were greeted with a sign that read 'SM's southern district' in big letters and below it in a smaller font was inscribed 'taverns, traders, and shops'.

perfect.

the two of you went inside a tailor's shop since you deduced that if you were going to pretend to be people important to stay at the castle, you should dress the part.

as soon as you stepped inside, the tailor called out "good morrow strangers, thou must be travelers from far hence."

"why yes, and we were-" you started before the tailor cut you off, "is there anything I may help you with, good sir?" he ignored you for eunseok.

you forgot that as fun as the medieval period was to learn about, it was hell to live through as a woman.

trying to bite your tongue, you waited for eunseok to respond.

"yeah, can we get some fancy clothes?" he asked nonchalantly.

you sent him a glare as the shopkeeper stared at him puzzled, "I'm afraid I do not understand your way of speaking."

"what he means to ask is if we may purchase some refined garments?" you asked, clearing your throat, only for the tailor to continue to ignore you.

sighing, eunseok repeated, "may we purchase some refined garments?" the tailor's head snapped up and he grinned, "of course, good sir! for the lady as well?"

"yes." you stated through gritted teeth. no response. "yes." eunseok repeated once again, to which the tailor nodded.

as the tailor went off to find some clothing for the two of you, you turned to eunseok, "I thought you were a history buff, how do you not know how to speak to these people?" you interrogated.

"first of all, i specialize in east asian history. second, I didn't think I'd ever actually have to rely on my shakespeare lessons from high school."

the tailor came back rather quickly with suits for eunseok and a few uncomfortable-looking but beautiful dresses for you. at least they didn't wear many corsets in medieval england.

"I shall fit them to the both of your measurements and you will be able to pick them up in a few days time. services included, the charge will be 30 pounds, good sir." the man said, awaiting eagerly for eunseok to pay.

"right... one second, good sir?" eunseok hesitated awkwardly, turning to you "you don't have any money, do you?"

"my wallet should be in my pocket... shit I left it when we changed our clothes in the castle. ask him if we can pay him when we come back to grab our clothes." you urged eunseok.

"how the hell do I say that?" he panicked. "just try your best!" you whisper-shouted.

turning back to the tailor, eunseok sputtered out "may we pay... in a few day's time... perchance?"

the shopkeeper looked confused before laughing, "doth thee wish to pay at which hour you come to pick up the garments?"

eunseok nodded vigorously which was enough to communicate the message across to the tailor.

once you left the shop, eunseok breathed a sigh of relief "okay, I believe you. we time-traveled, nothing makes sense, and I'll do anything to get back to the 2020s."

"let's head back to castle, grab my wallet, and we'll figure out what to do from there. we already have a place to stay anyway." you declared.

"if you weren't... yourself, I'd find it hot how calm and collected you are about this," he admitted. you shot him an annoyed look.

"sorry I don't know how to regulate my emotions... or my thoughts... or words. we traveled back in time. we're marty and the doctor guy." eunseok began rambling.

"it's doc brown. and calm down." you grasped his shoulders. "we're going to get out of here, because i need electric plumbing and I refuse to die of syphilis. but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time here. you and I both love history right? well now we get to experience it ourselves!" you exclaimed.

there's that look in her eye, the one she always gets when she's talking about history. I could stare at her forever... what the hell am I thinking? it's been a long day and I should get some rest.

you noticed eunseok spacing out while looking at you so you shook his shoulders a bit which jolted him awake, "so what do you say?"

"fine. let's experience your nerdy little medieval fantasy. but, we find out how to get out of here as soon as possible in the meantime." he agreed.

as you guys made your way back to castle, you were stopped by guards in front of the moat. "who art thee and what business doth thy have at riize castle?" a guard barked.

"we were personally invited by her majesty the princess to stay at the castle until the duel of knights." you reported. you saw the guard contemplating a bit before giving the other guards the signal to let you in.

breathing a sigh of relief, you headed towards the castle doors. after a few steps you realized eunseok hadn't moved from his spot.

"what are you doing? let's go back inside!" you scolded him. he looked completely pale and visibly shaken as he started towards you, "y/n. if we're really in medieval times... does that mean I have to fight during the duel of knights?" he fretted.

"i can't die yet. i haven't gotten cross-faded yet! do they even have weed here? I told myself once I leave korea I'd try it but what if I don't even get to experience that-" he began rambling once again.

you grabbed onto his hand, similar to how you did in the plane before trying to calm him down, "you won't die, because you won't fight anybody. we'll find a way to get back to our time before then, it's in a week so we have plenty of time. and you can always just try getting out of it by asking the princess!" you assured.

"you're right!" he exclaimed, squeezing your hand and pulling you into a hug. by the time you processed what was happening, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

that can't be right. butterflies... over eunseok? maybe I'm just touch-starved.

he pulled away rather quickly though, awkwardly trying to move past you to rush into the castle gates as if it would somehow undo his action.

fuck. did I make things awkward? did I kind of like the hug? wait-why do I care? we're just classmates who time-traveled together, nothing more and nothing less.

you followed after him until you reach the room you stumbled out of a few hours prior. digging through the pile of your old clothes, you were able to find your wallet.

fortunately, you exchanged some of your dollars for pounds at the airport. unfortunately, modern-day pounds look nothing like the ones they used in the 14th century.

"I don't think he'll even take these." you sighed, waving around the colorful bills with queen elizabeth's face stamped on them.

"we'll just say it's currency from... wherever we're from." he shrugged.

"and where's that?"

"uhhhh... america?"

"europeans haven't even heard of america yet." you rolled your eyes.

"which is why it'll work perfectly, they'll think it's some secluded, far away town." eunseok reasoned.

you don't know if it was eunseok's annoying presence or the lack of sleep you've had in the last 24 hours, but you felt a migraine coming on. massaging your temples, you decided you should take a nap before you try to find a way back to the future.

"let's get some rest, we can worry about everything else later." you yawned.

"where are we gonna sleep? the princess didn't even tell us which room we'd be staying in." he remarked.

"maybe we could ask agatha." you figured, walking towards the center hall.

"stop wandering off! we could get lost, this place is huge." eunseok argued.

"we won't. I know this place like the back of my hand." you assured.

"nerd." he commented, under his breath. for the sake of your sanity, you pretended you didn't hear anything.

with all the people rushing around the castle corridors it was nearly impossible to pinpoint agatha, and you ended up walking headfirst into the chest of a tall, handsome man wearing a padded shirt, usually worn by knights underneath their armor.

the man was slightly sweaty and holding a leather-wrapped sword in his hand, he must've been a knight coming back from training.

"art thou alright, madam?" the man asked. i am now.

eunseok let out a loud cough behind you, "she's fine. let's go, y/n."

"doth thou not recognize me? perhaps the two of you are not from here." the man reasoned.

"we're travelers, from... america." you hesitated.

"america? where is that?" the man questioned.

"tis a small town up north." you stated, trying to sound as sure of yourself as possible.

"makes sense." the man nodded "what business do you have in my castle. i've never seen you around, and I reckon I would remember a face as enchanting as yours."

am i getting hit on by a hot knight? maybe staying here isn't such a bad idea after all.

"your castle?" eunseok replied.

"yes. i am the crown prince, anton. now remind me again what you're doing in my castle?" anton asked.

"the crown princess invited us, my... brother here is to compete in the duel of knights." you quickly added.

"brother? I thought you were supposed to be my mistress-" eunseok started before you cut him off.

"do you know where the princess may be? she hasn't yet told us in which room we shall be staying." you asked the prince.

"ah, forgive my sister for she is very easily overexcited. I doubt she put much thought into housing you two as guests. I'd usually turn two strangers away, but you're an exception," he stared at you intently, "i'll arrange a room for the two of you shortly. in the meantime, would you care to join my family and I for dinner? it's the least we can do as hosts for you as you've traveled so far."

"we'd love to!" you exclaimed. "wondrous! I shall see you in two hours for dinner. the maids will help you to get ready." he smiled, kissing your hand before he walked away. you felt your cheeks heating up as you waved him goodbye.

"I thought you were tired. now you wanna have dinner with the royal family?" eunseok grumbled.

"eunseok, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. eating dinner in a castle with medieval royalty! how many people can say they've done that?" you beamed.

eunseok held back a smile as you gushed about the opportunity. why is she so cute today?

in a matter of minutes, a young woman approached the two of you, ushering you into a room.

"...here is the closet, and finally, the washroom. I shall give the two of you your privacy now." the woman bowed her head before exiting quickly.

"that was a quick tour." eunseok joked. "she must be busy preparing for the duel." you figured.

"ugh, don't remind me of the duel." he dramatically collapsed on the bed. "wait... is there only one bed?"

am I being lazy and using the one bed trope? guilty!

"I'm honestly too tired to care. scooch over." you shoved him to one side of the bed as you made yourself comfortable on the other. you wouldn't usually be so bold, but you were exhausted. after nearly getting arrested and getting stuck in the 14th century, you deserved a nap.

eunseok, on the other hand, was more wide awake than ever. he didn't want to look immature and get up the second you laid down, but he was even more nervous around you right now than usual.

looking over at your figure, he was shocked to see that you had already passed out. he couldn't hold back the small smile on his lips while watching you.

what the hell am I doing? I look like a creep. he thought, snapping himself out of his daze. deciding to wash up, he headed the the bathroom.

great. a large tub, a couple of buckets, and a hole in the ground. not a single source of running water in sight.

venturing out of the room, he tried calling one of the maids rushing past for some water but everyone seemed to be preoccupied.

annoyed, eunseok decided to try finding water himself. just because y/n's annoyingly obsessed with this castle and knows how to talk like these people, doesn't mean I'm completely lost without her.

after a few minutes of wandering around the castle, eunseok was completely lost.

unknowingly, he stumbled into the throne room while the princess was in the middle of receiving a lecture from her advisors.

"you mustn't invite complete strangers into the castle. do you understand how harmful that could be?" one of the advisors warned.

eunseok tried leaving as quietly as possible but it was to no avail as the princess spotted him almost immediately.

"you! traveler! what is your name?" she chirped, jumping up and heading towards him.

fuck.

"eunseok, your highness." he shared through gritted teeth.

"what an odd name! I suppose tis because thou are from a far away land. my brother told me you were from am-amiri? amera? what ever it's called." she rambled.

"i am princess giselle, and between you and i, you're my favorite contender for the duel of knights. oh how I hope you win and earn my hand." she gushed.

"i hope so too." he responded nervously.

"the prince told me the woman you were with is your sister, did you not refer to her as your mistress earlier... sir is your sister your mistress?" the princess gasped.

"umm, no! where I'm from we use the word mistress instead of sister. silly, isn't it?" he hesitated, holding his breath as he waited for giselle's reaction.

the princess burst into laughter, "how amusing! oh please don't die during the duel so you may make me laugh for the rest of my life." she cooed.

the hairs on the back of eunseok's neck stood up. even if he manages to survive the duel, he'll have to spend the rest of his life married to a loud-mouthed princess in a castle with no electricity.

I have to find a way to get out of this time.

"if you would excuse me, I should wake up my, er, sister for dinner!" eunseok mumbled, turning to walk away.

"nonsense! I'll have a servant do so. you may have the privilege of sitting with me until then." she assured.

"well, I was actually thinking of washing up before-"

"why would you need to wash up? you look perfectly clean." the princess interjected.

eunseok was anything but perfectly clean, but then again, that was by 21st century standards. in 14th century england, even royalty only bathed about once a month.

I can't believe it's gotten to this point, but I really wish y/n were here right now.

as princess giselle kept eunseok company, you were lightly shaken awake by a familiar figure: agatha. once you finally sat up, you heard her gasp.

"aren't you the servant from earlier? what are you doing in the guest bed?!" she shrilled.

"well... we're travelers invited by the princess. besides, it was you who assumed we were servants." you tried shifting the blame.

she put a hand above her heart, "goodness! that explains your odd clothing and speech. oh I apologize deeply. how can I make up for my terrible mistake?" she begged.

you felt bad seeing how apologetic agatha looked, but you remembered there was a favor you needed. "very well, then I demand full access to the storage room in the servant chambers." you declared.

agatha sent you a puzzling look, "what's so special about the storage room, my lady?"

well for starters, it's an opportunity for me to study a room never heard of by most historians. and a way for me to figure out how we got here, and hopefully, how to get home.

"i... liked it?" you said lamely. agatha simply nodded, "anything else?" she added.

"a piece of paper and a writing instrument, please."

"for your lord?"

right. most people, especially women, were illiterate during this time.

"um... yes!" you lied, not wanting to make yourself stand out anymore.

"I shall see to it." agatha dismissed herself.

as soon as she left the room, you collapsed back onto the bed. all you needed was some quality alone time-

the door burst open again, with a flock of servants pouring in. "we must prepare you for the dinner!"

for the next thirty minutes, you were stripped, clothed, had your hair done up in an elaborate hairstyle, and exposed to powders and cosmetics you were 99% sure were toxic. you almost didn't recognize yourself in the mirror, but you had to admit the dress was flattering and you might even copy the hairstyle when you get back to your time.

as annoying as it was, it was fascinating to experience everything you've read about in books up until now. the history nerd in you couldn't help but marvel at it all.

by the time you arrived at the dining room, you were greeted with the sight of eunseok sitting next to the princess, looking mildly irritated. you spotted an open seat next to the prince directly across eunseok and decided to sit there.

shooting the boy a small smile, you sat next to anton who immediately began talking to you.

eunseok took in your appearance, staring intensely at you.

she looks stupid... with her big hair, obnoxiously red lips, long gown, perfect smile-snap out of it!

"lord eunseok, why are you staring at your sister like that?" princess giselle asked loudly, catching your attention.

you turned your head quick enough to see eunseok staring at you with a look of... admiration? impossible.

he turned tomato red and cleared his throat, "I was... wondering what we'd be eating for dinner! I'm famished."

"once mother and father arrive, we may begin eating." prince anton assured. he turned to you, "tell me about your family, lady y/n. aside from your brother here, of course."

eunseok rolled his eyes. why's he so concerned with y/n? and why is this princess on my case?

after a few minutes of you and anton conversing and eunseok stealing glances of you while giselle talked his head off, the king and queen arrived.

you immediately got up and curtseyed to them, gesturing for eunseok to bow. "your majesty, tis my pleasure to dine with you." you resounded.

"my children have told me much about you. do tell me about this 'america'" the king mused.

the rest of the dinner consisted of you and eunseok making up ridiculous facts about america and your backgrounds. occasionally, you'd send each other knowing looks and have to stifle your laughs. it was the closest the two of you got to bonding this whole trip.

by the time the dinner came to a close, anton rose up slowly. "I wish to make an announcement." once he had everyone's attention, he continued, "I have completed my knight training this year, and I have father's word that I will be able to compete in the upcoming duel of knights."

"excuse me?" the queen cried out, "it is far too dangerous. and whose hand will you be competing for? your sister's?"

"of course not. I will be competing for lady y/n's hand."

"WHAT?" you and eunseok yelled in unison. "I understand this may come as a surprise to you, my sweet y/n, but I truly feel we have developed a connection."

we met two hours ago!!!

"NO!" you screamed, resulting in horrified looks on everyone else's face, "I mean... no, your highness. I could never expect you to put your life at risk for my hand, PLEASE reconsider." you begged.

"nonsense. the last ten knights left standing win the duel, and I am sure my son is capable of coming in tenth place at the very least." the king argued.

"charles, he is but a boy-" the queen began, angrily.

"he is twenty for christ's sake! I was even younger when I competed. there will no more discussion, anton will be competing for lady y/n's hand and lord eunseok will compete for giselle's." the king settled

fuck.

"what the hell are we going to do?" eunseok panicked once the two of you were back in your room. "if we don't leave before next week, I'm going to die fighting for a girl I don't even want and you're going to get married to that guy!"

"you care about whether or not I get married to the prince?" you teased. "what? no, I- shut up." he deflected.

"relax. I got us unlimited access to the storage closet. whatever brought us here is in there, I know it. we'll look through it tomorrow and find out how to go home." you determined.

"and if we don't?" he gulped. "then we'll figure something out." you resolved, holding onto his shoulders. "we'll be alright, we have eachother." you smiled.

you couldn't explain why you were being so nice to the man you swore you hated just yesterday, but something about the vulnerability of your situation made you desperate to hold onto the only ally you have.

eunseok's heart rate increased in response to your words and close proximity, he couldn't help but stare at your lips. "they overdid it with the lipstick." he commented, mindlessly.

"it's a mixture of berries. and I know." you giggled.

before you could say anything else, eunseok began leaning in. his lips were on yours in a matter of seconds, and it felt completely natural.

your friends always joked that the two of you were just covering up sexual tension with the whole rivalry thing, and you're embarrassed to admit you may have fantasized about kissing eunseok before, but you never in a million years thought it would actually happen.

the kiss was slow yet passionate, there was an unprecedented amount of emotion in it, you felt like you were drowning in it.

eunseok was on cloud nine, it was better than any other kiss he's ever had. his hands wandered to hold your waist tightly as yours flew to his hair.

you don't know how long the kiss has lasted so far, but you know that you never want it to end.

except it does. when the prince and princess walk in on the two of you.

as soon as you heard princess giselle scream, the two of you pulled away, but it was too late. they had seen enough.

"you people are sick! I should have known it when you said you call your sisters your mistresses!" the princess cried out.

before she could say another word, you and eunseok dragged the siblings inside and shut the door. "what the hell are we going to do now?" eunseok frantically whispered to you.

"we have to come clean." you said, which eunseok shook his head 'no' to almost immediately.

"anton, giselle, we lied to you." you confessed while eunseok stayed silent.

"I knew it! there is no america. are you thieves? or spies? who sent you?!" giselle accused.

"there is an america, and we did come from there. but we came from a different america than the one that exists today... we're from the future." you shared.

it didn't take long for both siblings to burst into laughter. "the future? do you take us for fools?" anton choked out.

"it's true! eunseok, show them your phone." you insisted. he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, causing it to illuminate.

"sorcerers!" giselle screeched.

"it's not sorcery, it's technology! it's made from various metals and allows you to communicate with people across large distances." you explained.

"sounds like sorcery to me." anton commented.

"y/n, you've spent years studying this stupid castle, don't you know anything about the residents? there has to be some information you have on the royal family that could convince them." eunseok looked to you.

"well I wasn't able to study much on these two because they both died young..." you said quietly.

"WHAT?" giselle screamed. "how dare you even suggest that?" anton stood up angrily.

"the records I read said you passed away during the duel of knights when you were 20 and that giselle was unable to take over the throne afterwards because she disappeared one night and was presumed dead... but some say she fell in love with a commoner and eloped with him." you shared.

this caused giselle to gasp loudly, "you... i... i believe them."

"how?" anton interjected, "she just said I'll die and you'll elope with a commoner. you show interest in every nobleman you come across and get over them in a matter of days. there's no way you'd fall in love with a common man and elope."

"I've been pretending to be boy-obsessed so nobody finds out that i..." giselle hesitated "i'm in love with mark."

"the stable boy?" anton cried out. "he always mentions the possibility of eloping but I never took it seriously-" she began.

"you two can sort out whatever's going on with mark later, can we go back to y/n and I time-traveling?" eunseok interrupted.

"how did you even end up here?" anton asked.

"in our time, your castle is a historical monument. eunseok and I managed to sneak in, but we were about to get caught so we hid in a storage room. when we emerged, we were transported to your time." you explained.

it took the siblings a while to process your story, but they agreed to help the two of you find a way to get back to your time. once everything was settled, anton asked to speak to you privately--which eunseok did not like.

"I'm sorry for lying, anton, I was just trying to avoid getting in trouble." you apologized, breaking the awkward silence.

"I understand. I've been meaning to ask about you and eunseok. are the two of you...?" he began.

"I don't know what we are. this whole day has been confusing for the both of us." you answered honestly.

"right." he replied, sadly. "well, I wanted to ask you specifically about my death. does the future really say I die in the upcoming duel?"

"i'm sorry anton... i know how excited you are for it."

"excited? i'm dreading it." he chuckled dryly. "i've only ever shown interest in being a knight because of my father. he was a knight back in his day, that's how he courted my mother and became king."

"wait, so you don't want to compete in the duel?" you queried.

"absolutely not! I'm terrified. I've always wanted to be a writer, but my father told me I have no time for silly dreams like that. I'm the heir to the throne, after all."

I feel horrible, most of the documents i read mentioned anton as an eager knight-in-training, but I guess history books aren't always accurate.

you grabbed anton by the hand and began taking him back to where eunseok and giselle were.

"so you really don't think I'm handsome?" you overheard eunseok asking giselle. "you're okay-looking... but I just needed a cover-up for my late-night rendezvous with mark." she shrugged as eunseok's face fell.

"eunseok. giselle. we need to do something before we go back in time." you announced.

"and what's that?" eunseok responded.

"we're getting anton out of the duel of knights." you declared.

"but how? father is adamant on him competing." giselle protested, "and I doubt he'll believe your time-traveling story."

"we'll just have to figure out a way." you said stubbornly.

although eunseok and giselle seemed uneasy, anton sent you a grateful look which was enough.

the next few days were spent with you and eunseok exploring the storage room and you writing down as much as you could about the contents of the room as well as the royal family.

eunseok agreed to help giselle meet with mark in secret and you agreed to help anton with his writing. in return, the siblings helped you look through the castle library on anything related to time-travel.

to avoid the awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed with eunseok after the kiss, anton offered up his room and slept with him instead.

there was now four days left until the duel, and you still had no idea how to get back or take anton out of the competition. anton and eunseok seemed to get a lot closer though, either through sharing a room or the mutual dread of having to fight to the death in a few days time.

"y/n, can I speak with you. it won't take up much time." giselle asked you. "of course, what's up?" you responded.

"what's up?" she repeated, "what is the matter." you corrected yourself. you and eunseok let down your guard when it came to speaking in old english since the siblings already knew your secret anyway.

"you said in the future, I disappear. mark keeps asking to elope, especially with the duel of knights approaching as many men will be aiming for my hand." she worried, "I'm scared, y/n. I don't wish to leave but I don't wish to lose my beloved either. what do I do?"

you honestly had no idea. maybe it was a bad idea telling them their fates, but if i can try helping them avoid it, I should.

"I think you should try telling your parents. how bad could it be?" you said, stupidly.

"are you serious? they would murder him and i for even suggesting it. royals and commoners don't belong together, of course you wouldn't understand." she stormed.

"okay, okay I'm sorry. I really don't understand. I'm used to modern royalty, where the prince of england married an actress and left the royal family, then got to go on oprah." giselle shot you a confused look, "but if you never try, you'll never know."

"i suppose you're right. but I'm far too terrified of my parents." she sighed. before you could respond, eunseok called out to you, ushering you and giselle to join him and anton.

"we found a way to get out of the duel!" he shared excitedly.

"and how is that?" giselle asked, unconvinced.

"knights are covered head-to-toe in armor, right? we'll just pay two knights to replace us! anton said he's got the money covered."

"yes, I have the money covered, as they say in future america." anton added enthusiastically.

"and you've already found these knights?" you asked, "how do you know they won't tell the king?"

"we did, and anton made them swear because they are under an oath to serve him." eunseok shared proudly.

"don't you think that's a bit wrong, abusing your power? and what's gonna happen at the end of the duel when you have to take your helmets off?" you badgered.

"will you stop being such a baby, y/n? we'll tell them to keep their helmets on, and both you and giselle will be there anyways so you can cover for us." he argued.

"well i'm sorry that I want to make sure your little plan is foolproof so you don't, y'know, die." you fumed.

and just like that, the two of you began arguing again. giselle and anton gave each other a worried look before rushing out of the room, leaving the two of you yelling at each other.

"you're getting a bit too comfortable here, don't you think?" you scoffed.

"comfortable?! you think I want to spend the rest of my life in the 14th fucking century?" eunseok retorted.

"well you've barely been any help in looking for a way back. i've been the only one searching that stupid room for any traces of how we got here!"

"maybe because we've been searching that room for four days and haven't found anything. excuse me for trying to make sure I don't die before I find a way to travel back, if there even is a way."

you stepped closer to him, still seething "you piss me off to no end, song eunseok. you're the last person I wish I was trapped with in this stupid century!"

"do you really think you're my perfect idea of a travel buddy? my life is a mess, all thanks to you!" he snapped.

"I didn't ask you to follow me like a crazed stalker, did I? so why did you?"

eunseok finally went quiet. it seems like he didn't really know the answer either.

you were irritated, but you didn't want to keep arguing, so you decided to walk away before he started up again, "I'm going to town to pick up our clothes from the tailor."

up until now you've been wearing the servant clothes agatha brought you to bed and borrowing the royal sibling's clothes during the day. it'll be nice to finally have our own sets of clothing.

you tried to organize your thoughts but you were still thinking of eunseok. it's not like you haven't argued with him before, but they've never been so... personal.

it pained you to say but his words hurt you. you don't know when you started caring about what eunseok has to say but some time along the last four days you've been trapped here, you started to feel more strongly about him.

and you definitely can't forget about the kiss. you can't believe the two of you just acted completely normal after that. you were too scared to bring it up and so was eunseok.

he's so confusing. one day we're making out and the next we're screaming at each other... and it doesn't help that I can't read him at all.

by the time you were done reflecting on your entire relationship with eunseok, you reached the tailor's shop. walking in, you greeted one of the workers there before informing them of your prior visit.

as the worker brought out your clothes, he held his hand out waiting for the payment.

shit. I didn't bring any money. and it's not like the money I had would've done much anyway.

"I-um, I don't think I can give you the payment just yet," you stuttered, nervous.

"why not?" the worker asked, already putting the clothing back.

"because-"

"because i'll be paying." you heard a familiar voice ring from behind you. what is he doing here?

eunseok walked past you and handed over the old-timey pounds to the worker, taking the sets from him in the process.

once the transaction was finished he walked past you and out of the shop, completely ignoring you. confused, you caught up to him.

"did you seriously follow me again? what's your problem?!" you exploded on the street, catching the attention of nearby townsfolk.

"I saw that you left your wallet and didn't even bother asking for money from the prince or princess. you're welcome for saving you the embarrassment and a trip back-and-forth from the castle." he retorted, stopping to turn to you.

"I don't want to argue. not right now, and not in public." he sighed "good. because neither do i." you sassed, walking past him deeper into the district center.

he rolled his eyes and continued after you, "where are you going?"

"does it matter? or were you planning on stalking me again." you retaliated.

i should just leave her alone if she's going to be so difficult... but this place is sketchy and confusing, and it's getting dark.

"I don't think it's safe to walk around alone here, it's almost sunset." he called out.

"I'm a grown woman, I can handle myself." you refused.

"fine." eunseok said, turning to walk back to the castle.

you spent the next two hours making a mental map of the district, excited to write all about it later. you had to admit this was a much more fun way to learn about history than sitting around with a textbook and reading all day.

unfortunately for you, there weren't any clocks around, so it was easier to lose track of time. you figured it must be around 9 p.m. and decided to head back to the castle.

after about 15 minutes of wandering the streets, you realized you were lost.

fuck. I can't believe I'm about to prove eunseok right. whatever, he's probably living it up at the castle, especially since I'm not there.

on the contrary, eunseok was worried sick. "what if she was kidnapped, or fell down a well or something?" he ranted to anton.

"we shall find her, there's no need to worry." anton assured as they headed out the castle gate.

as the two of them began walking, eunseok couldn't help but overthink.

I shouldn't have let her walk away. and I can't believe the last conversation we had was an argument. what if something bad happened to her? how will I forgive myself?

eunseok doesn't know when or how he became so worried about you, but what he did know was his heart was pounding just thinking about you.

"what... relationship do you and y/n share?" anton inquired as they walked. "we're just school peers." eunseok answered coldly.

anton laughed in response, “peers do not thrust their tongues into each other's mouths."

eunseok's ears turned red upon hearing the younger boy's comment.

"they also wouldn't worry as much as you are right now." anton added.

"she's my ticket back to the 21st century, of course I'm on edge. I need her help finding the way home." eunseok shrugged.

"whatever you say." anton smiled.

"are you into her or something?" eunseok asked, trying to sound casual.

"pardon me?"

"do you wish to wed her?" eunseok sighed. I'm definitely not gonna miss these shakespearean conversations.

"well... she is strikingly beautiful... and strong, and intelligent, and-"

"okay I get it." eunseok cut him off, erupting another laugh in anton.

"but she seems to only have eyes for you. besides, I'm a bit more preoccupied with the duel as of now." anton commented carelessly.

she has eyes for me? eunseok thought to himself again and again until they reached a nearby tavern.

it was then that the pair spotted your figure arguing with a clearly drunken man. before he knew it, eunseok rushed to your side to defend you from the man until he heard your conversation.

"you've gone mad if you think euripides is anywhere close to sophocles!" you yelled.

"you're the mad one, sophocles couldn't have written medea but euripides could have easily written oedipus rex in his sleep!" the man yelled back.

of course she's arguing over history. what a nerd.

"pardon us sir." eunseok interjected, dragging you away by the arm.

"hey! I wasn't finished. and stop dragging me." you ripped your arm away. "now you know how I feel." eunseok scoffed.

"y/n! are you alright?" anton asked. "yes, I'm fine. and I was just about to make my way back to the castle." you asserted.

"point in the direction of the castle." eunseok challenged. you pointed in a random direction hoping it would be somewhat close.

"you were going to head north, further into the town when the castle is down south." eunseok smirked.

if he didn't look so good right now I'd smack that smirk right off his face.

the walk back to the castle was dead silent, with poor anton making the occasional comment trying to spur conversation, but you and eunseok weren't having it.

when you finally reached the castle, anton excused himself leaving you and eunseok alone.

sighing, eunseok broke the silence first, "I was worried about you."

you whipped your head up. did i hear that right?

"I don't hate you. I hope you know that." he went on.

"I don't hate you either." you added. for the first time in a long time you looked at him in the eye.

the tension was palpable, but before you could act on any of your emotions, eunseok turned away. "goodnight, y/n." he walked off.

ouch. I know I said I wanted him to leave me alone, but not like this.

time passed by until it was the morning of the duel. you and eunseok had been growing even more desperate to find a way back home, and giselle and anton were getting even more nervous about the duel approaching.

eunseok had remained distant since that night, and although you hadn't argued since then, you also haven't really spoken much.

you missed him, but you had more important things to focus on.

as the knights began suiting up, you and giselle headed to your seats at the top of the arena. the arena was full of thousands of people, ranging from commoners to nobles.

if everything went to plan, the knights pretending to be anton and eunseok would win the duel, one of them would pretend to be injured and the other would carry them off into the stables where they would switch places with the real eunseok and anton.

of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. 'eunseok' was slain within the first ten minutes.

despite you having no connection to them, it hurt you to see young men lose their lives for a tradition meant to please the rich and powerful. and it hurt even more knowing that this tradition would continue for a few more centuries.

however, not everyone else shared your sympathies, as the majority of the crowd cheered excitedly with each kill. that was... until 'anton' was slain an hour in.

the entire arena went silent and the king jumped out of his seat, "stop the tournament! stop it now!"

oh shit.

the king ran down to check on his 'son' only to reveal a complete stranger under the helmet. still teary-eyed, the king roared "what is the meaning of this?"

we're screwed. we're so so screwed.

just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the real eunseok and anton entered the arena, assuming the silence meant it was over.

"son! what have you done? answer me, boy!" the king seethed. "i... i don't wish to be a knight." anton confessed, eliciting gasps from the crowd.

"what on earth has gotten into you? is it that boy next to you influencing you?"

"no! I never wanted it. you know I've always wanted to pursue writing-"

"nonsense. you are to be a king. and a king is to be able to fight for his people. will words on paper solve wars? no. only a sword will protect your throne."

dejected, anton nodded before eunseok interrupted, "weren't you just crying over your son's death?"

another round of gasps travelled through the arena. "how dare you speak to me that way? I should have your head cut off!"

"all I'm saying is, if anton listened to you and fought, he'd be dead right now. is forcing him into combat worth losing your son?" eunseok reasoned.

the king faltered for a moment before recovering, "he is not enough of a man to look me in the eye and you want me to let him pursue his childish fantasies?"

in that moment, anton snapped, raising his head, "if I am to be heir to the throne than you will treat me as such. my whole life I've done what you wanted me to do, and look how that would have ended," he paused, pointing at the corpse on the floor.

"father, i assure you I am grown enough to discern what I want and don't want. and what I don't want is a life of a knight. I am not an extension of you, I am my own person, and most importantly, I am a writer." anton concluded.

the crowd erupted into cheers at the prince's heroic delivery until giselle ran down, seemingly inspired.

oh no.

"and I am in love with a stable-boy!" she declared loudly.

just like that, the arena was dead silent again and the king went red with anger.

"this is all your fault!" he pointed at eunseok "you, and that sister-mistress of yours!"

the crowd began murmuring, confused.

"guards, execute them!" he declared.

now you were definitely screwed.

you saw eunseok running out the back as giselle and anton held their father back. panicking, you ran through the back of the arena, meeting up with eunseok.

"what the hell are we going to do?" he panted. you grabbed onto his hand and began running into the castle. you're not sure why, but your gut was telling you to head to the storage room.

once you reached the room, eunseok whispered "won't this be the first place they'll look for us?"

" just hurry up and light the candle, I have to grab my papers." you rushed. he found a set of matches and lit the candle as you frantically searched for all your research.

you heard voices gathering around the outside of the door.

"y/n. if we really do die, I need to tell you something." eunseok began dramatically.

"I love-"

he was interrupted by a banging noise on the door. you quickly blew the candle out, hoping the darkness would somehow make the two of you invisible.

but it was too late, the door flew open, and a man came down the stairs holding a... flashlight?

"stop there! london police, you are under arrest for trespassing."

"what?" you muttered, confused.

"oh my-OH MY GOD. we're back... we're back! what year is it?" eunseok asked the officer desperately.

"are you two on some sort of narcotics?" the officer asked.

the two of you were then escorted to the police station where your group supervisor had to bail you out. you and eunseok were grinning ear-to-ear the entire time.

you were informed that you couldn't go on the tour as a result of your trespassing and you couldn't care less. "I know how much you were looking forward to it, are you sure you'll be okay?" your friend asked, worried.

"I'll be fine! go enjoy it for me." you assured. I'm sick of that damn castle anyway.

after taking a long, warm bath, you settled onto the hotel couch before hearing a knock on your door.

opening it, you were greeted with the sight of an awkward eunseok.

"hey... can I come in?" he asked, nervous. "yeah." you smiled.

"I'm still trying to convince myself that was all real." he chuckled.

"me too." you breathed "but at least it's all behind us."

"yeah, thank goodness." he agreed.

"what was it you were saying before we got arrested?" you asked innocently.

"um- I was saying, i... wonder whatever happened to giselle and anton! surely there's some more information on them now that anton survived the duel." he changed the topic.

"you're right!" you exclaimed, rushing to your computer to google their names.

"it says here that the king passed away from a heart attack due to shock and anton inherited the throne, but he didn't want it so he passed it onto giselle. he went on to become a successful writer and giselle married a common man named mark, they had a son and a daughter named... eunseok and y/n!"

"you think they're sister-mistresses?" eunseok joked.

"gross. anyways, anton's most famous book is called across centuries and it's about a pair of lovers that time traveled." you gasped.

"well that definitely can't be about us, we're far from lovers." he laughed.

"right..." you agreed quietly.

"well, I guess that now that we're out of the medieval period, I can get out of your hair." eunseok began, standing up.

"wait." you spoke up suddenly. if giselle and anton could confess in front of an entire kingdom, than i can confess to a single guy.

"eunseok, i..." you began.

fuck. I can't bring myself to finish my sentence.

"you what?" he asked.

"I'm..."

"are you alright?"

"no! yes-i mean no?" you sputtered.

"i'm gonna go let you rest." he nodded, slowly backing away.

"I love you! I'm in love with you. please-please don't leave yet." you practically begged.

eunseok's jaw fell to the floor.

"I don't know how or when I started feeling this way, and I get it if you don't feel the same way but I had to tell you. I'm-"

you were interrupted by eunseok's lips crashing onto yours, and for once you didn't mind the interruption.

"will you be mine, lady y/n?" he asked dramatically, shortly after you two parted from the kiss.

"why yes, my knight in shining armor." you laughed.

#kpop reactions #kpop scenario #riize reaction #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize fluff #eunseok #song eunseok #anton #riize #sm entertainment #kpop ff

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twopoppies · 4 months

Note

Hi Gina , Do you have a category for reread fics?How can I find them

Meaning fics I’ve read more than once? I don’t think I’ve ever made one—let me see what I can do.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I did, I immediately picked it right back up and read it twice more.

Hats Off To My Distant Hope by orphan_account (E, 21K) This was such a pleasure to read. The writing feels so effortless as the fic explores the deep emotions of these two characters. They’re stubborn and inarticulate and gentle and passionate and finally, finally open up to each other. I really wish I knew who wrote it because I’d love to read more of their work.

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy (E, 150K) I’ve read this one multiple times and still love it. Their bickering is so realistic, their resistance to their attraction to each other is perfect, the way the author portrays all of their weird quirks and differences but still makes it believable that they’d fall fo reach other is such fun to read….I love this fic.

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach (E, 160K) Probably my absolute favorite time travel fic. I’ve read it more times than I’d like to admit, and every time I love it more. One of the things I like most is how organically the author weaves in canon events…every little moment is an easter egg without it being so obvious that it pulls you out of the fic. Anyway, this one is so moving and so absorbing, I hope you like it if you give it a try! There’s an 18K companion piece to it as well, but you’ll see the link at the appropriate time when you’re reading the main fic (and when you read the scene that breaks your heart –– in the best possible way –– come and scream at me. You’ll know which one I mean).

Our Lives, Non Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 114K) this is, quite literally, the best fic I’ve read in years. It’s so well written, clever, funny, emotional, and sexy. Its draw you in immediately and you’ll end up falling in love with these characters before you know it. Don’t miss this one.

Never Never Never Stop for Anyone (Sheylinsonverse) by aimmyarrowshigh, spibsy (E, 10-work series, 439K)Yes, here I am again, putting this series on a list. Probably 10 people in this fandom like it as much as I do, but I don’t care. I have read all 440K words more than once, and will likely do it a few more times. Yes, it needs editing, but even so…really well written, super sexy (if you like reading BDSM and can handle Larry + someone else), and such interesting character development. One of my favorite things about this fic is how the authors differentiate between the ways the different characters inhabit their Dom and Sub personalities.

Make Your Words A Weapon by HelloAmHere (E, 36K) I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks!

Pull Me Under by zarah5 (E, 140K) One of the very first fics I read when I came into this fandom…and I’ve read it multiple times since. Zarah’s fics hold up every time. This one has it all, great pacing, ot5 friendship, banter, super sexy smut, etc etc. Plus, Louis being super jealous of Harry’s best friend.

Into The Blue by zarah5 (E, 117K) honestly, I love all of this author’s fics, but I think this is my favorite of theirs. Louis as a flirty scuba instructor? Newly single Harry who just wants a fling? Boys living on other sides of the world who only have a few weeks together? Heartbreak. Hot af smut. OT5 friendship. Please….give me all that shit.

Faking It by TheCellarDoor (M, 46K)This one is so sweet. I loved Harry's internal monologue... his insecurities and thoughts that he'd made Louis uncomfortable because he liked, him made me cry. Louis is so soft and supportive. It’s just a lovely fic.

Remind Me Again by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (E, 29K) Every sentence in this fic is so effortlessly beautiful. I love that the miscommunication between them is done in a totally realistic way. The fight and make up like real people do and that makes the angst more painful and the making up more emotional. One of my favorite authors.

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train (E, 36K) I really enjoyed how this author handled Harry’s confusion and growing attraction and eventual sexuality crisis. That, along with the angst and very sexy smut, made it a really good read.

may we all have a vision now and then by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (M, 4K) This author is one of my favorite writers in this fandom and everything they do is infused with so much delicacy and tenderness. I literally cried through this fic because of how wounded Harry’s character feels. Read it and then treat yourself to their whole AO3 catalogue.

Seeing Blind by zedi (E, 47K) I really liked the way this author gave a twist to both Omega Harry and Alpha Louis’ characteristics. It’s a whole lot of smut and miscommunication and, of course, a happy ending.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (NR, 209K) this fic will run you through the wringer, but it’s really a great read. I really like the way the author took the boys from enemies to friends to boyfriends, and how we got to see how protective and supportive Louis became towards Harry.

smell the sea, feel the sky by @lightwoodsmagic (E, 16K) This is the perfect summer pining fic. I love that they’re adults and still the same horny, pining fools for each other and it still works. It’s just very sexy, light, and fun.

we can take the long road home by @pinkcords (E, 46K) This was absolutely gorgeous. And it made me cry, damn it. Seriously though, the writing is so beautiful. I loved the characterizations and the way they both showed their vulnerability. I loved the slow pace and the hot smut. I loved this fic.

smile in slow motion by istajmaal (E, 24K) One of my favorite Daddy kink authors, this one is lighthearted and funny while also being super sexy. Plus it’s got great Zouis friendship.

all my love was down on a frozen ground by navigator (E, 16K) This is an old one that I didn’t have bookmarked for some reason. But it’s a favorite and I love everything this author wrote. This is one of those quiet, soft fics with a bit of angst and a lot of internal monologue and gentle conversations. I don’t know, there’s something so touching about it.

Thought The Song Was Sung by 100percentsassy (E, 13K) This is both a famous/not famous and a dating app AU. Plus, older Larry. Plus an author who writes great fic. And this one is just sweet and charming and I really like this one.

the way the storms blow by rbbsbb (E, 22K) What would happen if you walked in on your best friend in the midst of an orgy? Louis finds out and it’s pretty damn hot.

we can take the long way home by eleadore (E, 27K) this one is a canon divergent future fic where Louis is a “carrier” (basically, he would be able to get pregnant) and it’s just SO good. It’s beautifully written (like everything this author does), so well-paced, and I just find the way their developing relationship is written to be so touching and realistic.

The light to guide me home by Star_Henderson / @tommosgun (E, 65K) I don’t know what it is about this fic but I’ve read it so many times and I just really love the instant chemistry, the smut is stupid hot and fuels the character growth, and even with the angst, the whole thing is just lighthearted and sexy.

Speaking of Marvels by navigator, quitter (E, 101K) This was one of the first fics I read in this fandom, but I read it again recently and had forgotten how really wonderful it is. The writing is so lovely and the characters feel so well developed. I especially loved how the authors explored how differently the two of them would respond to their relationship given the different stages of life they were in. It made the romance and the attraction and the angst feel really real.

Constant Debauchery by Blake (E, 19K) Yes, yes, I know. I’ve probably recommended this 10 times. But have you read it yet? Anyway…Edwardian setting, uni ABO (Alpha/Alpha) fic. Gorgeous mood setting, I’ve said before that it reads like an Merchant Ivory film looks…just gorgeous. There’s a similar sense of repression and uncertainty about flouting societal expectations, and a character who appears one way on the surface, but underneath is quite different. I love this one, I’ve read it a number of times.

Lightening Strikes Twice by @dinosaursmate (E, 106K) It’s not often that I read a 100+K fic multiple times, but this one is worth it. It’s one of my favorites from this author, and a favorite all around. It’s an epic love story spanning decades and massive life changes. It’s sexy and well-written, and so touching, and so fulfilling in many ways.

precious little thing by mercutionnotromeo (E, 21K) I’ve read this one so many times…it’s got it all. This time the phone sex operator is Louis, and subby Harry is just beginning to realize his daddy kink.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson (E, 7K) This author always does such a good job with depicting young, queer love and the way their characters experience the overwhelm of realizing they’re not straight, realizing the’ve met their Person, pining, and giving in. I love a lot of their fics, but I think this is my favorite of them. Link is to a download.

One day to believe in you by mediaville (E, 8K) another author who always hits it out of the park as far as I’m concerned. This one is super funny and then super sexy. Louis gets cursed and has to tell the truth. No matter what Harry asks him. Read it!

like a bastard on a burning sea by vashtaneradas (NR, 21K) Heartbreaking, perfect writing. So well-written that the fandom hated real-life Harry for a while after this was posted. 😅

These Roads We Stumble Down by onewasturning (E, 18K) I adore this author’s writing and I’ve read this particular one multiple times. It’s just a little melancholy and very sexy and one of those fics that reminds me why I can read about the same two people falling in love 46372 times and never tire of it.

Empty Skies by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (E, 13K) I just started re-reading this the other day and it holds up so well. This author is always a pleasure to read. Their fics just are well plotted and the characters are nicely fleshed out. I loved Perrie as Harry’s bestie, the bitterness and angst is PAINFUL, and the ending feels well earned.

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews (E, 124K) One of the OG classics in this fandom. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. It’s just a great, original story. Plus, cowboy Harry, city boy Louis, bad guys to hate, nail biting drama, hot af sexual chemistry and smut, and a super satisfying ending.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews (E, 135K) Everything about this fic is glorious. I’m always struck by how well the characters are fleshed out, how their behavior lines up with their backstory, how ridiculously hot the chemistry is, and how agonizing the angst is. So yes, no shocker, I cried buckets. Thank god for a happy ending.

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry (E, 137K) High school Au, footie, enemies with benefits, so much sexual tension (and just tension), and really well-developed, complex characters. Most of the conflict in this (and in the companion fic from Harry’s POV) is straight up lack of communication. But, given the age of the characters, it’s forgivable (although sometimes frustrating).

In Dreams by dolce_piccante (M, 24K) This actually might be my favorite of this author’s fics, although I know it’s definitely not the most popular. It’s just soft and romantic and sweet and I’m a sucker for tattoo artist Louis winning over slightly uptight Harry.

Your Name Is Tattooed On My Heart my mcpofife (E, 87K) I reread this one recently and it's truly delightful. The characterizations are so well done. Harry is so endearing (I cried over his heartbreak). And the smut is both hot and really emotional. Love this one.

#my fic rec #Larry fic rec #re-reads #My favorite re-reads #Favorite re-reads

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sixxteenbullets · 11 months

Text

HIDDEN AWAY-

Saw smth the other day and I can't stop thinking about it.

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!innocent!reader

Warnings: u and Henry getting walked in on by Patrick, being watched doin yk, swearing, sexual themes.

______

HENRY Bowers had a girl that was the opposite of him. She was a kind, sweet soul and he wanted to keep her that way. He knew exactly who he was and who his friends were, so to keep up with his goal, he needed her to stay away from his friends. The issue sounded easy to defeat, if his friends were normal.

Two boys, Belch and Vic, he trusted enough to stay away from her. After all, they weren't really ever interested in defying Henry. Though, Patrick was a piece of work. As much as he loved innocence, he loved pushing limits. He was tall, obsessed with pyro, and a sadist to the bone. That was exactly the kind of person Henry needed his girl to stay away from. Someone who could tear away her joy, make her sad and scared, and strip her of her kindness, turning her timid and quiet. He'd seen her that way once, during a bad fight, and he swore to keep her from those feelings for as long as he could. Only he could break her down.

"Hey Hen," Y/n smiled at him, her white teeth shining as bright as ever. "You called."

"Old man ain't gonna be home tonight," He pushed himself off of his bed and sauntered over to her. "Was thinking you could stay?"

She didn't have an ideal home life, either. She wasn't beat, like Henry, and she still had both of her parents, but they were mean. Driven by religion, the girl didn't get to choose her own path very often, and a lot of her decisions were made for her. That was part of why she kept her innocence. There was nothing she could do to break it.

"Yeah, totally." She walked closer to him, meeting him in the middle of his room, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms looked around her waist and they were pulled flush against each other. As their lips met, a bubbly giggle escaped her throat and she smiled against his mouth. His face remained straight, but the sound of her giddiness woke such a fierce happiness within him, it was hard to keep from giggling back at her.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" A mere whisper, barely audible. His eyes widened slightly as they met the ones that stared up at him. She never spoke like this. It was just a simple question, but there was a passion behind her words that she never had before. They had been dating for a month, and she typically pushed away his sexual advances, so when she made her own, he knew this was not something to pass up.

His hands ever so slightly lowered on her waist, resting on the peak of her butt. When she put up no objections, they lowered and he gave a small squeeze, which triggered another giggle. Just as he was about to say something suggestive, her lips crashed into his open mouth, and their tongues danced in harmony for a minute before he pulled away for a breath.

Her head leaned up to follow him, objecting to the end of their kiss, but she soon realized her own lack of breath. "What are you doing?"

"I want you." There was absolutely no sign of hesitation in her voice. Every bit of every word dripped with a lust that sounded foreign on her tongue. "Every inch."

He had heard enough. He had been waiting for over a month to hear her ask for him. To finally give herself to him.

Every fiber of his being itched to go fast, to shove her onto his bed and hear her screams as she cried his name. To hear the innocence dissolve from her voice, and only a sinful, whimpering cry would be left. But he didn't think she would like that just yet, so he willed his body to go slow, to pace himself and be gentle as he stole something sacred from her.

"I want you to be rough. Show me every side of you tonight. The good the bad and the parts you never let anyone see. You can have my body if I can have your soul." She always did that. Talk in poetic speeches, using grammer he's completely stranger to. And he loved it just as much as he loved seeing the passion in her eyes as every word spoke it's truth.

They were on the bed in no time, and her request rang through his ears. She wanted everything. And he would give her his life if he could.

Two shirts were thrown on the floor, one pair of pants, and one pair of shorts. Two half naked bodies desperately grinded into each other, craving release from the heat in their cores. Legs intertwined just as fingers did and the two eventually became one. One drawn out moan, one long kiss, one burning desire.

There was something artistic about the way two humans behaved in times of desperation. The way she would whimper and gasp when a particularly sensitive part of her body was touched, and he would see this and use it to his advantage. The way his mouth would open in a silent moan as she rubbed against him, creating a friction they'd never get enough of. Even with underwear on, they behaved wildly, leaving no room for any matter to interfere.

Somewhere in their passion, a door, forgotten to be locked, creaked open to reveal a few rather shocked faces. Not shocked to see their friend with a girl, but shocked to see him with a girl such as Y/n. Especially shocked that a girl like her didn't wear little pink cotton panties, but adorned a black lace thong instead.

The bigger male and the blond turned away, obviously not wanting to get their asses beat for the intrusion. But Patrick stayed for a minute. His eyes traced every inch of her body, and once he had seen enough, a low whistle escaped him.

The two on the bed jumped, and just as quickly as she threw herself down, he had an arm around her and held her close. She stayed pressed against her boyfriend, trying to hide her flushed face and body from the mischievous boy who stood watching her.

"When your done having your fun, why don't ya' let me take her for a ride?" A sickening laugh faded into a room with three emotions only. Arousal, fear, and pure fucking rage. That arousal faded from Patrick when he saw the expression that adorned his friend's face.

"Get the fuck out of here, Hockstetter, or I'll kill you right here." There was a malice in Henry's voice that he'd never heard before. A spark in his eye, a snarl in his lip, and a clenched fist that showed truth in every word he spoke.

If Patrick didn't stop staring at Henry's girl, he would be a dead man and a tortured soul.

So he ducked out of the room and approached the two other members of their gang, shaken and annoyed, completely unwilling to tell the story of the scariest moment of his life.

Henry considered chasing after his friend, showing him how absolutely enraged he felt that his angel felt unsafe. But once he thought back to her, and felt her shivering from his arms, she was his main priority. He pulled her flush against him, not sexually anymore, just possessively. His arms encircled her and she wanted to completely fade into him.

Sobs racked her body. She'd heard horror stories of the boy and his disgusting acts on not only girls, but just others in general. So, when he said he wanted to take her for a ride, terror crept throughout every crevice of her body. Not only did she fear him, but she was absolutely humiliated. Another boy has seen her half naked, not to mention the vulnerable situation she was in.

After a second of silence, she was able to make out a few muffle words against his chest. "Please don't let him take me."

"No one will ever touch you. You're mine, and he knows that now. I'm gonna keep you hidden away from all that shit."

#henry bowers #it 2017 #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #bowers gang #x reader #fanfiction #it #dont read this #ima kms #this is embarassing tbh #bowers gang x reader #henry bowers x reader #victor criss

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lure-of-writing · 4 months

Text

Art

Summary: Sometimes everyone needs to be reminded that they are more then what they think of themselves

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

“Some people are artists. Some, themselves, are art. And you my sweet, sweet Azriel are art.” his piercing hazel eyes stare blankly back at you. “You are art crafted by the gods themselves, and it has nothing to do with your looks, Az. And it has everything to do with your soul and who you are.” Somewhere deep down Azriel knew you were talking to him but all he could focus on was the tears running down his face and colliding with your hands that gently cupped his face. All he could feel was the warmth and love radiating from your soul that was trying its hardest to pick up the broken pieces of his soul to help him put himself back together again.

It wasn’t often that Azriel cried and even rarer that he cried in front of another person and just about damn near impossible that he would cry in front of someone who wasn’t his brothers, but here you are cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears all while reminding him that he is worth more than he thinks of himself. There was something so soft and tender about your words yet they were so strong and full of passion and Azriel could never bring himself to battle the words you so fiercely speak to him.

“You are art in the way you look after everyone, constantly aware of our needs before we ourselves even think about what it is we need. Art in the way you are always willing to listen to us complain even if you’ve heard about the same story for the millionth time all while offering the most kind, considerate, caring advice because you listen every. Single. Time. “ he silently listens as you put emphasis on your last three words “ Your willingness to sacrifice yourself as long as it means your family is safe is beautiful, don’t get me wrong it scares me like no other to think of a world where you are not in it but none the less I think your willingness to protect your family at any cost including yourself is beautiful.” The sound of the fire crackling just a few feet behind where you sit on Azirels bed provides the only sound in the room and it is also the only source of light allowing you to see the striking eyes of the shadowsinger.

“You give and give and give constantly to those around you but what about yourself Azriel? When will you realize that you have to take care of yourself before you can help others? I know that you think about all these endless possibilities where you are not a part of this family but I can tell you without any doubt that none of us would have ever let that happen. We need you as much as you need us, even if you are reluctant in acknowledging that part.” The small laugh that follows from your lips brings Azriel’s focus back to the present. His room is lit only by the fire casting you in a beautiful orange glow, and oh how he wished he could paint like Freye because he's never wanted to keep a memory to himself more than this one.

The room once smelt like him now has the faint scent of your perfume wafting around in the air bringing him a sense of comfort Azriel didn’t know he even needed. He would never understand how he could need so little in life but he would always need you. The person who pulled him out of his darkest thoughts. Held him after the day had taken its toll and left him feeling like a failure. Prevented him from staying in his head when his thoughts took a darker turn than was acceptable.

There are many things Azriel is grateful for but your existence is by far the thing he values most in his life. Rationally he knows that Cassian and Rhysand are unwavering pillars of friendship and family in his life but there was something so intimate about your late night talks when you pull him out of his self-deprecation that he could never have with his brothers.

“Your soul is the most beautiful piece of artwork I have ever seen. But that's the thing about art Az, not everybody is going to like it and that's ok. But do you want to know a secret about art?” your hands release his face in favor of grabbing his hands to give them a reassuring squeeze. Once more you look into his eyes, the hazel eyes that you know will never tell you a lie and all you can see is the desperate need for reassurance that breaks your heart. Azriel may put on a facade but you always see past it. And what you see is a man who has been dealt a terrible deck of cards in this game called life and up until this point the only goal has been survival. But now it's time to teach him how to truly live, starting with learning to at least be at peace with who he is. Far later down the road will you teach him to love himself like you love him but for now you need him to know that no matter what happens in you lives you will always find art and beauty in who Azriel is, beyond his skills and talents because he has always been more than those things, he is his mind and thoughts and passions and hopes and dreams and he is someone who deserves to be loved. Without any conditions or hesitations. But whole heartedly and passionately.

“Sometimes after the artist thinks they are finished with their work they take a step back and release they don’t love what they have created and that's ok for a few reasons. One, someone else may think that it's the most beautiful thing that they have ever seen. Two, the artists can always change things about their painting: add this, take away that, until they like the end result. This part has no timeline, no defined ending to when it has been perfected. And reason three, there will be people who look at the beginning painting and love what they see but the artists will be unhappy and change it however many times they need until they love it and those people who loved it the first time will love it at each and every stage until the final result is finished.”

“We are the artists and who we show up as to the world is the painting of our soul so if you don’t like it, keep painting until you are happy, and I promise you I will love it at every step of the way, because you my sweet Azreil are the most breathtaking piece of art I have ever seen. Do not let your clouded vision of yourself prevent you from seeing what I see, because it is beautiful.”

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x you #azriel acotar #acotar imagine

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dantesunbreaker · 5 months

Note

I don't know if you're doing requests but, it's alright if you're not or if you don't want to do this.

in case you do, though: I've been thinking about the papas with an artist s/o. I'm a painter and my hands are always covered in paint, like, always, and I was thinking about what they would say when they noticed, what they would think about it, you know?

I hope you're having a great day :)

Papas with a Painter S/O

Absolutely! While not as often, I do paint and I always end up getting a decent amount of paint on myself! Hopefully you enjoy these anon! Thank you so much for the request.

Primo

Of all of them, Primo would have the most heartwarming and wholesome response! When he tends his gardens, his hands are similarly stained with dirt from the labor of his passion

“Ah look at you, beautifully colorful, just like the tulips in spring!”

If it is something you are up for, Primo would love for you to paint murals along some of the walls in his garden

Sometimes you bring your easel out to the gardens when the weather is good and the sun is up so you can paint alongside Primo as he tends his garden

While not a strong painter himself, Primo makes his own watercolor paints with the flowers from his garden. On days when nothing needs tending in the garden, Primo will happily paint alongside you

Will laugh if you try rubbing the paint on your hands off onto him, Primo retaliates by rubbing some dirt onto you

Secondo

The tone of Secondo’s response is entirely dependant on where he is and what he is doing at the time

If there is work to be done and you are to approach Secondo with paint coated hands, he will have a more serious stern response. While being as polite but blunt as possible, Secondo will ask that you either keep distance and refrain from touching any of his work, or that you wash your hands before doing so

Not that Second does not care for your passion for painting! But he already put enough strain on himself that he does not need the added stress of potentially ruining important documents with paint stains

However, any other circumstance, Secondo will smile and will try to be subtle about his excitement as he asks to see what you have been working on

Loves to watch you light up as you talk about your artwork, wants to know every detail, your reasoning for every brushstroke, every color choice

Would never tell a soul, but hearing your story for each painting makes Secondo feel a deeper understanding and connection with you. It makes him fall ever more so in love with you

Do not rub the paint on him. It will make him grumpy and pouty(secretly will find it cute, but does not enjoy cleaning paint out of his suit or robes)

Terzo

Ecstatic whenever he catches you with paint on your hands! You must show him what you are working on at once! Doesn’t even matter if he is meant to be working at the time

Terzo also wants to see and know every little detail about what inspired you to create each piece. If you are passionate about it, Terzo is passionate about your passion for it

Proudly hangs some of your paintings in his office and bedroom

Of course, being a cheeky bastard, Terzo will pull the whole “paint me like one of your French girls”

But really, if you do paint Terzo in any sort of fashion he will be beyond delighted and will insist on showing it to every single person in the ministry

If you touch him with your paint hands, Terzo will insist that you leave a handprint on his butt which he will proudly sport for the rest of the day

Copia

Understands and admires the effort and passion you put into your work, just as he does with his work as Papa...though Copia’s work is far less colorful and messy

Whenever he catches you with painted covered hands, Copia always feels a bit of excitement as he asks about your latest piece

Though a bit shy and insecure about it, sometimes Copia will ask to come paint with you and have you teach him different techniques. Not that he is expecting to become a painter himself, but he does find it relaxing at times

Always happy to be in the same room together as you paint while he either reads or catches up on paperwork

Acts super proud of your work and will showcase it to his ghouls whenever possible. If you ever have a gallery exhibit, you can guarantee Copia loads up all the ghouls in the van to take them all to see it as a family

Will be shy and flustered if you get paint on him, definitely making numerous Copia noises

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bluemoon-fever · 4 months

Text

pas de deux sneak peek | steve rogers

pairing: choreographer!steve rogers x ballerina!reader

summary: After receiving acclaim in your dance company's production of Sleeping Beauty, you audition for the principal role in its newest production, Giselle, and catch the eye of your attractive, new choreographer.

warnings: none

word count: 534 words

notes: i've been sitting on this for almost two years, and after re-reading it today, i decided to publish this sneak peek and see if there's interest in this. as a former ballerina, this is a passion piece for me, so please let me know what you think! <3 (initially wrote this as an ofc so if there's errors, my b!)

Someone was watching you. It took you a while, but when you finally realized it, your dancing changed.

You were always so sure that no one was in the building at this time. It was far too early. You loved coming in the studio early, doing warmups, choreographing ballets you were too nervous to ever present, and physically baring your soul to the three floor-to-ceiling mirrors that surrounded you. But now, someone knew your secret, and they were watching you at your most vulnerable.

As much as you wanted to cut the music, grab your bags, and flee the room, you couldn’t. The stakes were way too important. If you wanted to be Giselle, your lifelong dream, you had to stay and practice until your feet fell off.

This was your first audition where you had to perform a piece for the director and choreographer. It was new to you, and frankly, you loved the idea. It emboldened you to pick a piece from one of your secret choreographed ballets, especially one so ethereal and heartbreaking.

You began choreographing this piece when your heart first shattered into pieces. As you worked on the pieces, you felt the pieces of your heart slowing finding its way to each other, waiting for the glue to put it together. On the night you choreographed your favorite eight-count, you broke down in tears. Every time you performed that section that night, tears welled into your eyes until you was too emotionally exhausted to continue dancing.

Whoever was watching your dancing was entranced by you. They felt directly connected to you and the emotion that lied within your movement. You didn’t feel cruel judgment as you continued dancing under their watchful eyes. If it was Gia or a member of her entourage, they would’ve snickered loud enough to break your concentration. If it was Pierre, he would promptly tell you to go home and get rest.

This person felt foreign to you, but you didn’t mind dancing for them. Your nervousness quickly subsided, and you wanted to give them a show. To make up for your hyper-vigilance, you put more emotion into your movement. All of the emotions you felt while choreographing this piece rose to the surface like lava finally exploding out of a volcano. Yet no tears stained your cheeks. Your tears came in the form of arabesques, grand jetes, and a series of the best pirouettes you had ever performed in your life.

When you finished, you let out a loud exhale. You had stopped breathing unintentionally, and something told you the person watching did as well. Although you couldn’t see them beyond the one-way window, you knew they were moved by your performance. If they didn’t want to endanger their position, they would’ve clapped and sang praises for the performance. Instead, you (correctly) imagined them walking away stunned, unable to forget what they saw.

You felt proud in yourself and your capabilities. You weren’t the only person who knew your true potential. All of your anxieties had subsided in this moment. You weren’t worried about the other dancers or being reduced to a member of the corps.

You were Giselle, in more ways than one.

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elvsz · 2 months

Text

ARE YOU NEAR, MR PRESLEY? “

summary : Elvis chose someone else and you did too, it was one late night in his Vegas penthouse when he told you the truth — the love he felt for you was becoming too much, even for him. His constant need of having to be near you, to see you and to make sure you were safe was making him feel insane. You both being busy with shows was also becoming too much, you hardly saw each other. The breakup was hard but you both ended it on amicable terms yet every night he finds his heart asking the same question, are you near? when he sings on stage; Do you watch him the way he watches you?

warnings : ex!yandere!elvis. female!reader. Kidnapping. reader is the lead singer of a 70’s pop group (abba was in mind). possessiveness, protectiveness and threats of violence. reader is calm and collected but also arrogant (lolz). mdni. cheating! kissing. age gap, elvis is 41, reader is 25. priscilla is his ex wife, reader is his ex gf. lisa marie doesn’t exist in this. can be read as austin elvis. BDE!elvis. 70’s elvis. petnames. substance abuse, alcoholism (from main characters). reader is named ‘delilah’ as her stage name / y/n is used.

based on : love me, suspicious minds & too much.

by elvsz / yandere / mdni

It was 1972 when you were told the news by one of elvis’ men.

Elvis and Priscilla were to be married - again.

In many ways, you wasn’t surprised. Elvis hadn’t been a fully faithful man when you were together, back in 1968 when you were merely 21. Though you must admit that when Son called you - his own voice full of sympathy that she could only shake off - to tell you the news, your world stopped for a moment or so.

Elvis was getting older, as were you, but the drugs he took seemed to make him believed he felt young. You weren’t a completely pure woman, your own intake of alcohol when your stage name name - Delilah kicked in on stage wasn’t healthy either. But you knew when to stop.

You only said okay to Son, trying to come across like it didn’t bother you - which it shouldn’t of done. You were with somebody knew, Max Charlton was his name, the 27 year old who fell in love with Delilah but ended up loving you only a few weeks after you and Elvis had the cruel break up.

You don’t respond to Max when he asks you who called, merely shaking your head and getting back into bed next to him. Your heart is heavy and her mind is full of guilt when you wonders to yourself; Elvis, are you near?

You turn onto your side to turn the lamp off on your bedside, letting the darkness indulge her into something better, calmer. Letting Max sit there and wonder what had happened. You still feel Elvis’ hands on your skin, when Max puts his on you..

Elvis didn’t ask who was performing in the International Hotel that day, he already knew who it was. Roses, the band you were in had started rehearsing for the late show that night. Yet he couldn’t hear your voice at all, it was the one thing he always wanted to find no matter where he was.

The voice he had known for what felt like all his life was too far for him to hear, you were too far for him to feel. And it made his heart hurt, almost burn with something cruel and sinister.

Then he hears you, your soft voice calling out to him as you sing Season of The Witch, the song you and your band had decided to create over night. He can feel the passion in your voice root itself in his soul, making his head fuzzy.

Elvis shakes himself out of a haze when Jerry — one, if not his greatest friend — tells him to come over and see them. You and your band who spray out before him, two members by the speakers. Some laying on the floor. Jerry being a big fan, which was funny to many as he was a member of the greatest’s inner circle, he’d always get up and dance to the music you made.

There you were sat there with your hair up like a doll, pretty headband on, ear piece long forgotten about as you sang and danced with your backup singers.

“C’mon! Give me somethin’!” Elvis heard, you were talking to the guitarist, who with the your very sweet, but arrogant pressure ended up making a very good riff for the song.

You knew Elvis was there, the way your other band mates seemed to quiet down into whispers told you it all. But you ignored him and Elvis was sure his heart was cracking.

“Ms. Y/N?” Tom Parker had always been a man you hated, so when your name left his mouth you wanted nothing more than to swing for him. Your turned her head over her shoulder, eyes bitter as they landed on the man.

“What?” You spat out, annoyed at being distracted, she took her music very seriously. The paper’s said even more than Elvis did which truly was something, you can only shake your head as the man tries to tell you something.

You turn to finally look at Elvis like you used to, back when fans would push themself against you and you’d look like a fawn, eager for him to do something. Your own heart threatening to break, but Elvis saves it again — patting Parker on the shoulder, telling him to come and see his plans for his new album.

You can only send him a nod as a thank you when he gets the man far from you. You turn back to your guitarist, but your soul begs for the man who just walked away. Your heart begs for Elvis, like every night before.

Elvis can only lie to his manager’s face, he had no album planned but he didn’t enjoy the way you tensed up under the cruel man’s harsh gaze and his weird words. Elvis nods for Jerry to go and take his manager away, he doesn’t say anything when he leaves.

He can only sit before the mirror, his head in his hand as he feels his heart beating more than usual, the pills on the desk before him are calling his name.

But then he hears your voice, your very, very angry voice.

“Like hell I will!” You spit out at your manager, who follows you to your own dressing room — Elvis requesting for yours to be next to his, he can only sit there and listen as you practically scream at the poor soul — and then he hears you cry.

“You said I could go goddamn home after tonight!” Your voice is breaking and Elvis knows you’re sobbing at this point. He can hear things breaking, you probably stand there throwing things at the man. Elvis’ door is opened, he watches your manager shake his head as he walks out.

Elvis stands up, calmly walking to your dressing room, your own door open. There you sit on the floor, things broken on the floor, smashed into pieces as you hold your head in your hands.

“Baby..” You don’t reply to him, merely sobbing into his hands, he shudders as he sees the broken mirror, he looks at your hands and there they are, bloody.

“Someone get a damn medic!” He calls out to the people hanging in the hallway, he hears footsteps running around. He crouches down to you and he can nearly sob himself when you flinch from him.

You look up at him and he wants to break your manager’s face. Your mascara is down your face, headband broken by the door, blood smeared near your mouth where you put your hands. Hands which are cut by the glass shards.

“He..” you mutter, choking out. You put your hand on Elvis’ arm, your grip week. He comforts you by whispering sweet words.

“He said I could go home an’.. I’m gonna die here Elvis.” His worlds stops, he looks at you confused, angry and dazed.

“What?” His southern drawl comes into play when he’s angry, his gaze darkens.

“I gotta stay here for ‘nother five years.” Your own gaze is hazy and angry. But the tears that won’t stop running down your face is what really anger him.

“Sweetheart, what’re you talking ‘bout?” You wish to answer him, you really do, but then your eyes fall to his engagement ring and you can only get up on shaky legs and a heavy heart.

You walk passed him, the man who sat down next to you who now is quick to follow you. Asking you questions. You don’t say anything when you walk into the bathroom in the hallway, you only lock the door; refusing to look at him.

You stay in there for what feels like forever, and when you finally open the door you don’t see Elvis to be anywhere.

Elvis is so close to your manager - Chris - that he’s sure the younger man can almost feel his red, hot, rage. Elvis is asking him questions because he needs answers and for the fact that he loathes seeing you so upset.

“Listen.. I had a talk with the hotel owner, he wants her to sing for him!” Chris tries to come across friendly, he knows he tries, but Elvis can see his anger building and the gun that rests in his holster is becoming heavier.

“For what!” Elvis shouts, “Another five goddamn years!” His fist finds the wall next to Chris’ head and the man watches Elvis become a monster.

A man turned cruel because of sin, is nothing less than a monster once adored as a king. He can feel the rage that made him leave you - he was tired of watching people beg for a kiss from your pretty lips every night on that godforsaken stage - begin to blossom in his gut again.

His world spins, the drugs and the alcohol kick in, Chris barges past the man who now sways. He runs for the door and he finds it, not before Elvis tells him to get rid of that contract.

Or he’ll blow his brains out.

You sit in a chair in a new dressing room, letting the make up artists put eyeshadow on you. The lipstick on your lips feels thick, your hair now all done up feels wrong and your eyes still gloss over.

It had been a long day. Too long of a day, by now you would’ve cancelled the show and gone home to your cats, but alas you sit there and let them prod at you like you’re no more than a doll.

“Five minutes!” Your manager shouts down the hallway, your open door letting you hear it clearly. You can only hum one of the songs he’s making you play tonight.

The dress you wear is white, and it’s so tight you can feel every stitch as if you did it yourself. One of the makeup artists wipe the tear off your cheek, her smile is sympathetic.

The walk up the hallway is cruel, heeled covered feet aching for something kinder, you read over the set list for the night that sits in your hand.

How can you mend a broken heart, Take me in your arms, Somethin’ stupid— you don’t finish looking at it. Only crumbling it up in your hand as you find the door to the stage.

The red curtain is down, you wish to see Elvis. You wish to feel him but the guilt eats at you alive.

He’s getting married again to somebody who isn’t you, stupid girl. That’s what rings through your head; you nod your head to the band members, the back up singers. They all compliment you.

Your eyes gloss over, you can feel your manager tapping your shoulder as you stand before the mic. He passes you a cup of what you can only imagine is alcohol.

“Welcome back, Delilah.”

The first song you play isn’t any on the list you read before, you start with Son of A Preacher Man, swaying as you let the music take you.

Your breathing is heavy and your words are yet to be slurred, Elvis watches from his own table with Jerry and a few other friends. Priscilla is yet to be seen by any of them.

Your voice is like silk when you bend down to the crowd, letting a twenty something year old man kiss you softly, you smirk as the crowd screams.

“Was a son of a preacher man..” you smile, teeth white and pretty, eyes full of something.

You can only watch Elvis and his reactions, the way you grip the end of your dress; giving the crowd something to blush and whistle for.

They knew you as this, the woman who made people feel dizzy with sin, dizzy with desire as you suddenly shake your hips.

Trouble suddenly comes on, your hips are moving as are your legs. You can feel the aura of the audience change, people stand up, pushing against the stage to touch you.

Hands close to your heels, as you rock your way around. Elvis hated this, hated watching people and their nasty desires try to get to you.

But he loved that glint in your eyes when you got what you wanted, which when Elvis was involved, was all the time.

This went on for two hours, you smiling at the crowd, shaking with them as you wiped the sweat off your forehead. You took your final bow, this was it — the last show at the international. No matter what your manager said, this was it.

The last person you look at is Elvis. Who happens to be the one to find you first when the curtain goes down, he’s by the end of the stage waiting for you like always.

You practically run to him, suddenly your world is hazy, breath heavy. Your world goes dark and the last thing you remember is him and his strong arms wrapped around your body.

“Elvis?” You mutter, the bedsheets you lay on aren’t your own, they’re too soft and a different colour. The covers are draped over your body, you feel like a small child who’s been tucked into bed.

The room is almost pitch black, if it isn’t for the lamp on the desk in the corner. You know he’s there, and the whine you let out is almost pathetic.

He remembered how much you hated the dark - childhood trauma you explained to him - and how much you feared to be alone if left in it.

He walks towards you slowly, a robe is all he wears, your eyes are full of tears and you ache for him. Your soul aches for him.

You crawl to the edge of the bed, you notice the nightshirt you now wear, soft and in your favourite colour, you look up at him.

His hands are soft on your face, cradling it softly as he kisses you ever so gently. You pull away, “you- you said the love you felt for me was too much.”

You repeated the words he said to you that night in ‘68, your heart heavier than anything. You watch as he shakes his head, his voice is deep and husky.

“I lied. I.. I didn’t want to hold you back anymore.” He hints at the age gap between you both, his mouth moves to your cheek, your jawline and your neck as he pushes you back down onto his bed.

You cry out, feeling overwhelmed as you push yourself away from him. “You went back to her, Elvis.” You move off the bed, standing away from him as he watches you in the dim light.

“Baby.” His voice holds so much adoration, he finally has you back where he wants you. Finally has you back to himself, the sob you let out when you see your hands now wrapped with gauze is sad.

He cared for you. He always had. He always will.

You let him pull you into a hug, his arms tight around your waist as you sob into him. You hit your fists against his chest and he lets you, all he wanted was for you to come back to him.

And now you were back together, his engagement ring long forgotten, purposely thrown out, and there was nothing Elvis wouldn’t do to get you back to him.

Such as making your manager sign you into a five year deal at the place he performed.

Like making your manager and his sign a deal that stated if either yours or Elvis’ career ended, the other would have to.

You were his, sweet girl. No woman, man, or person would ever change that. He’d make sure of that.

#elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #austin!elvis x you #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis #austin!elvis fanfiction #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #yandere elvis presley #yandere elvis #Elvis Presley

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1989stanz · 3 months

Text

Well, two days ago I promised a fanfic to you all, so it is here! It's a inheritance games fanfiction and I hope you enjoy it. I accept any type of criticism, but just don't offend me. Thank you! @aaal-iz-well @myster3y @myfairkatiecat @riddles-n-games@aria-1105 @formulalina15

Prologue:

Jameson lost a 911 and has to deal with his penance.

Disclaimer:

All characters are from Jennifer Lynn Barnes's book The inheritance games. None of them are mine! Mentions of Nash Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Avery Grambs, Gigi Grayson and Maxine Liu. There's some cursing and mentions of murder, but nothing serious. The author didn't deep dive in these two delicate topics. No spoilers and no smut!

English is not my first language! So I apologize for any mistakes.

(P.S.: I'm always open for fanfic suggestions.)

Words count: 17K (sorry for being so long. I just couldn't help it 😭)

Jameson was never the type of person you could call “phone addicted.” He didn't spend much time scrolling because he was always busy with his brothers, a riddle, or doing something that the police would certainly arrest him for it. As a result, charging his phone wasn't something that occupied his mind, that's why his phone died often. That's what happened on this day. He was in a phone call with Xander when suddenly his phone went dead. Letting out a sigh, he opened the bedroom he shared with Avery to search for his charger. The room was quite a mess, with clothes on the floor, in the bed and hanging lazily around a chair. It reflected the owners' minds: messy as hell, but still comfortable somehow. There was a colored cube on the floor he accidentally stepped on and kicked away as he continued looking inside a drawer.“Where is it?”, he thought.“I know it's here. I remember the last time I used it and I put it in this drawer. . .” Before he could properly finish his inner monologue, he felt IT before he heard or saw it. He felt it strong and passionately inside of him, and deep inside he just knew what it was. Someone was approaching—HER. He felt her presence almost all the time when she was around. His heart would just stop as a true and genuine felling he had never felt before her took over his entire body and soul. It was exaggerating to describe it this way, but every single thing he felt and thought about her was exaggerating. “Jamie?”, Avery spoke and, oh, he loved her voice, specially when she said the nickname his brothers gave to him. Nobody else beside them had the right to call him this was, but her? Just listening to his nickname set his blood and entire body on fire. Hungry. He was hungry for everything, even for her—specially for her. “Heiress?”, he finally turned around and his heart pounded faster when he finally looked at her and realized why she called him. Her eyes were gleaming—they were always so bright when they stared at Jameson's eyes—, a challenge that he couldn't back down on her face. He clearly wouldn't back down from anything she proposed. “Jamie.” Avery knew he loved when she said it, so she usually did it when she wanted his whole attention to her, and god-damn, she was wearing one of his shirts. She had never done it before, but it looked way better on her. She looked beautiful, he thought to himself. And he FELT how Avery had an enormous effect on him. Forget hungry. He was starving just for a piece of her.

Smirking, he said, “So, now you steal my shirts?”, his green eyes glowing more than ever.

“Only when I want to catch you off guard, like now”, her eyes told what she didn't: Avery was enjoying what she was doing to him. Of course she did, he was acting like a damn dog. They stared at each other and did not break eye contact as she walked up to him and pressed her lips to his. The kiss wasn't soft or slow. It was breathtaking, and when she pulled away, he wanted more. Forget the charger, it could wait, but his hunger could not. And probably the 911 call he received from one of his brothers could too.

Grayson would never admit, but he was terrible. Not physically, Grayson Hawthorne was at no time physically terrible. He always makes to sure to be looking good. But mentally? His mind and feelings were so awful that just “terrible” wasn't an appropriate answer. He was drowning in work—again—, swimming like crazy and doing anything that was humanly possible to stop his brain from echoing a name. Her name. So that's why he was standing again at the place Emily had died, so-and-so far from the ground. He had no equipment and wondered—again— what would happen if he jumped. Of course, it was just a thought, Grayson wasn't going to jump, but just the adrenaline that he felt with this thought kept his entire head quiet. Her name wasn't there for a moment. But moments didn't last forever, so that's why he decided to finally go back to the house.

Once he arrived, his whole body ached for something. Escapism. Her name was there again, and he knew a way to stop it. Grayson quickly took some turns around the house, and before he could even think about it, he was in the cellar. Without realizing, his hands grabbed a Tequila, took off the cover and his nose caught the smell of the liquid. Eve. Eve. Eve. Eve. He took a swing. Eve. Eve. Eve. He took another swing, this time longer than the other one, and… Nothing. It was calm. And he took more long swings. He hardly allowed himself alcohol, but in that occasion he drank it like his life depended on it.

Halfway through the bottle, one thought broke through his shields: “You need someone”. That hit him, hard. But for one second he stopped taking swings and recognized the obvious: he was broken, drowning, but he didn't have to be alone. He had his brothers and Avery and, somehow, that was everything. Eve couldn't touch this, it was totally his and only his. His family. That's what they were. So he picked his phone from his pocket and only sent one message for each of his brothers: 911.

Nash and Xander appeared in a heartbeat and, for reasons he couldn't tell, his heart overflowed with love. He felt it warm and quiet on his chest for the first time in a very long time. Nash was the first one to look at him, raising one of his eyebrows, “So what's the deal, little brother?”. Xander whispered in Nash's ear, “He seems drunk to you too, or did the explosion I caused today already affecting me?” Grayson almost raised an eyebrow when he heard his words. That would explain his clothes that seemed to be set on fire. Instead, he chose to analyze the room he requested their presence. The gaming area was an enormous place full of all kind of games, physical games—like bowling—or just games that required thinking, like chess. Being more specific, Hawthorne chess.

After four rounds of Hawthorne chess and three Grayson's victories later, strip bowling was the chosen game, and he found out in the worst way possible that strip bowling wasn't for him. Nash didn't have his boots and his socks. Since his brothers demanded when they first played strip bowling that Nash's cowboy hat wasn't a piece of clothing, he was shirtless but had his cowboy hat on. Xander didn't have shoes and socks anymore, and Grayson…was winning. He didn't wear a coat, shoes, socks, and his shirt. But he was happy to be with his brothers…or at least two of them. Grayson turned away as soon as he noticed that Jameson wasn't there and asked, “Where's Jameson?”

“Probably doing something very dangerous and assuming risks that could get him to have a meeting with God!”, Xander replied with a smile. Nash frowned his eyebrows, “I called him like 10 times, and he didn't pick up.” Wasting no more time, Grayson reached for the phone in his pocket and called Oren. The bodyguard picked up immediately. “Any problem?”, he asked, his voice calm and powerful and useless for someone like Grayson, who knew the word “power” like the back of his hand. “Where's Jameson? Is he in danger?”. He could hear the way the bodyguard shrugged. “No danger in sight, if you don't consider sleeping in Avery's bedroom a dangerous thing to do.” Jameson was sleeping, and it was almost offensive that he lost a 911, but then he realized. Jameson lost a 911, and he was going to pay for it like Grayson did. He smiled and turn off the phone call. “As much as I love to see you smile, I can tell where this is going”, Nash replied. Xander was amused, his eyes as bright as the sun. “So Jameson really lost a 911?”. They didn't answer, but instead the rest of the evening was wasted between plans and more plans for his penance.

1:00 am

Jameson noticed that he lost a 911 call, and he knew his brothers would come after him with a wicked plan. Surprised wasn't an adjective to describe his emotions when Xander appeared out of nowhere at night and started to play a trumpet. But furious and about to end Xander were appropriate words. “STOP!”, he yelled through gritted teeth, trying to cover his ears with a pillow. Nash put a hand on his little brother shoulder to stop him. “Enough, Xan. Enough.” Grayson was behind him, and Jameson could swear he almost smiled. Reluctant, he got up from the bed. “It's time for my penance.” It wasn't a question, and nobody corrected him. Instead, he just received a devilish smile from Nash. It was going to be a very, very long night.

1:30 am

Max was spending the Christmas holiday at the Hawthorne house in her own wing, where his brothers dropped him. She smiled, a big and bright smiled that he almost feared. Almost. “Hello, little duck.” He snorted. “Not sure about being a duck.” She meant dick, but he chose to ignore it. “However. Just sit in this chair and let me do my magic.” He sat, and she covered his face in a really white foundation, drawing a smile with her makeup pencil, covering his cheeks a really shiny red. “I think I know what you're doing, but I better be wrong.” Max smirked, and he decided that smirking didn't look good on her. Actually, it was never a good thing when someone who wasn't him smirked. “I can't tell you. Xander made me promise.”

“I think so.” And he let her finish, putting a blue wig on his head, covering his hair. Thrilled, she picked a small mirror on the desk, showing his reflection to him. “Do you like it?”. He was right indeed. Xander had asked his girlfriend for a clown makeup for him. She gave him a card with an address written on it as he left her wing. He was going to kill Xander. Suffocated, precisely. With his own damn wig. Opening the card, there was an address that he did not recognize:

Flower Boulevard Street, 89

P.S.: Gigi must drive.

2:00 am

Gigi knew how to drive a car. Of course she did. At least that was what she told him before breaking all the traffic laws. Jameson wasn't a fan of laws and endless rules, but after this 30 minutes painful ride and almost dying more times than he could count, he was a new fan of the traffic law, apparently. She stopped in front of a building, some pop music blasting on the radio, his face so white that it looked like he was a ghost. After a few minutes of searching for his soul that clearly was lost along the way, his eyes analyzed the construction. He had thought about the worst places that his brothers would have chosen as a location for the evening, but a big and luxury hospital didn't cross his mind, not even once. But there he was, standing in full clown clothes in the hospital parking. Gigi grabbed his arm. “What are you waiting for? I thought you liked a challenge.” He did, and that's why he entered the construction.

2:15 am

He managed to get lost inside the hospital, but that was way better than Gigi getting lost four times while driving 'cause she insisted on not using the GPS. After a few minutes, he founded his brothers. Unfortunately. “Wooow! He looks awfully amazing”, Xander shouted. “This isn't your best moment, little brother”, Nash laughed. Grayson just looked, without saying anything at first. Then he raised an eyebrow. “I think you lost something, Mr.Clown”, he told Jameson, pulling out leather pants from his hands. Not common leather pants, but THE leather pants. He was doomed.

2:25 am

Out of all his brothers, Jameson was the leanest, but the leather pants still squeezed him really tight. It was almost painful, and he needed ten minutes to make them fit. “Comfortable?”, Grayson asked, enjoying this moment more than anything else. Jameson gave a Cheshire cat smiled, not giving him the satisfaction to see his discomfort. “More than ever, big brother.” Grayson smirked, and he wondered why everyone was suddenly smirking at him all the time. Nash leaned on the doorway, his cowboy hat hiding his smile. “Ready to put on a show, Jamie?” A show? What the actual fuc...”

“I have balloons!” Xander tossed three bags of balloons at Jameson's face, and he caught each one, his face marked with confusion. “Why do I need balloons?”

“For the kids!”, Xander smiled, thriving. “There are some sad and unfortunate kids on this hospital that need some fun and joy in their lives, and you're going to bring fun and joy. That's what clowns do, isn't it, Mr.Clown?”

He could feel the need to wash off all the makeup in the sink bathroom and take off his ridiculous clothes, including his fancy clown shirt. But he promised it to his brothers. Grayson had called and he didn't come. That was his penance. “Where are the kids?”, he asked.

3:35 am

One hour and ten minutes later, Jameson was at the edge of a breaking down. Sure he could deal with one or two kids playing with his wig, trying to pull his clothes, licking his face when they thought he couldn't see, getting on the ceiling, screaming, crying, popping the balloons, trying to slap him, laughing and making jokes of him, swearing, running and so much more. But twenty? It seemed and felt like hell. He couldn't even judge the kids, 'cause little Jamie was worse than that kids. He looked at Nash after one of them spat on his face, “Please, Nash. Please stop this.” All three of them laughed, Xander more pleased with himself than ever. He had video every time a kid did something to him and threatened to send them to Avery. Jameson didn't even try to stop him, his little brother was going to show Avery one way or another. And he was mortified. “Please. It's been one hour. I can't handle more.” Jameson Hawthorne didn't beg, of course not. But he was about to get on his knees if Nash didn't look at him and decided that the poor boy had enough. “Alright, kids!” He shouted and all of them immediately stopped what they were doing, something that Jameson couldn't do. He felt jealous. “Form a line, so the clown can say goodbye to you all.” They said an audible “noooo”. Apparently, they liked to torture him. He went to say goodbye to every kid when they finally formed a line, some of their names carved on his brain as he passed. Brian. Yasmin. Joe. Kloe. Patrick. Pablo. Iago. . .

“Where's Iago?”, Kloe said, looking behind her. Jameson counted the kids and there were only 19 of them. Oh, hell. “Nash”, he looked at his oldest brother while he nodded, understanding what he meant with just one word. “Go there, Jamie. We'll stay here.” He took a glance at the kids. “So, how are we feeling about dancing?” They screamed in excitement. Jameson couldn't understand how he did it.

4:05

Where were this kid? Jameson had searched absolutely every god-damn room of the hospital, had warned the nurses, and they still had not found him. He couldn't help but remember when he disappeared as a kid. It didn't take a couple of minutes to find him, it took hours. Sometimes even days. He swallowed hard, thinking what would happen if Iago wasn't found. What if he was in danger? How would his parents react? What if he managed to get out of the hospital…

“Oh my god, Iago! Can you calm down for a second? You're going to spill my coffee all over the room.” He heard someone say in a room at the end of the hallway, stopping to look what was going on. Gigi trying to take Iago off of the ceiling with a cup of coffee in her hand. The scene was a one to be recorded, if Jameson wasn't freaking out. “Iago! Get off of there!”, he commanded, and surprisingly the kid seemed to hear. “I don't know”, Iago mumbled and he looked worried. Scared. That shattered Jameson's heart. He picked up the kid, careful to not let him fall or break the ceiling. “Thank you”, the infant wrapped his hands around his neck, not letting go. Gigi was very embarrassed. “I couldn't get him off, he didn't hear me.” Jameson was so confused on why she was still at the hospital, at 4 am, drinking coffee. But all he did was to shrug, “They don't hear me too.” And they walked back to his brothers only to found Nash dancing with them. God has favorites, he thought.

8:00 am

Ten minutes later they arrived at Hawthorne House and Jameson dropped dead on his bed. After taking off the makeup, clown clothes and the leather pant, obviously. But his body naturally woke him up at 7:45, and he couldn't get any sleep after that. And that's why he was on the roof when he heard steps. “You put out quite a show to the kids.” It was Grayson talking.“The hospital called, asking if you're going to visit again.” Not a chance in hell. He liked the kids—actually, loved them— but he couldn't handle them all at once. It was draining. Grayson knew it, that's why he was smirking, almost showing a smile. “You know”, Jameson started, “that I only didn't pick up because my phone had died?” It was basically his way of saying that, if he knew that Grayson was calling, that he needed him, he would appear in seconds. And he always would. Despite all the offenses, the teasing and the fights, Jameson would walk through hell for Grayson. He knew that, and Grayson would do the same. If all that it took to make him laugh, smile or to just take the weight off his shoulders a bit was to see Jameson dressed up as a clown, he would do it a hundred times. And he would do it over and over, no just because “that's what brothers do”, but because that's what you do when you love someone—you show them your love and loyalty. 911 wasn't just a simple code, it was meant to their brothers know how much they loved and appreciated each other, even though sometimes they have a hard time telling or showing it. Jameson knew the meaning behind this simple code, and it would kill him if Grayson thought that Jameson didn't care for his older brother. They all cared for each other, that's what made them the Hawthorne brothers. Not just the DNA because, when you grow up between the Hawthornes, you couldn't care less for biology. “I know,” Grayson replied, and his tone gave something else. Of course, I know, but I won't go deep into it right now, he seemed to say. So they just stood there, watching the sun and enjoying each other's company, without admitting it.

#jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the inheritance games #xander hawthorne #best seller books #books and reading #fanfic #fanfiction #gigi grayson

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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My Beloved Nymph (9) (End)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: kissing, sex content, giving birth, so much fluff]

[description: Aemond is the owner of the club, his girlfriend is the younger sister of his business partner. This story is a continuation of the series "My Best Friend", which you can read here: Part 1. This story can be read on its own. Aemond has serious intentions for his girlfriend and is slowly putting them into practice.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond and Y/N decided they wanted to get married in secret. They wanted it to be just their moment, in a small wooden church outside the city. The only people who knew about it were Klaus and Helaena, whom they had chosen as witnesses. They stood before the priest who read their oaths, holding hands covered by a piece of his robe.

Y/N was dressed in a beautiful white dress with embroidered white folk motifs and a deep, cut-out neckline. The dress had long, sheer sleeves, and her long hair was partly pulled back into a bun with daisies flowers pinned to it. The engagement ring, the second one she had received, gleamed on her finger. The gemstone, framed in gold, was a sapphire that gleamed wonderfully in the light of the stained-glass windows.

Aemond stared at her, thinking she was indeed a nymph, the personification of the spring goddess, who had stood before him, who had come into his life that seemed like eternal winter and made everything bloom anew with him. Looking at her, he felt calm and warm. She was like the sun on a summer morning when the cool breeze of the night still surrounds you. Her presence brought him constant relief.

They swore before God all that they had repeated to each other many times behind closed doors. Now they felt that they were participating in a sacred rite, that their lost souls would find each other after death and be reunited with each other forever. When it was over, Aemond kissed her deeply and lingeringly, feeling he was the happiest man on earth.

Aemond rented an apartment for both of them in a noble manor near their town. Every time they drove past, Y/N would say how much she wanted to see what was inside. They had a nice dinner on the terrace, overlooking the lake, talking nonsense, looking at each other with eyes that said it all. Aemond thought then that part of him was grateful to Albert for what he had done. That if it wasn't for him, Y/N would never have spoken to him that morning, never opened up to him.

Afterwards, they returned tired to their apartment, which was spacious, its windows overlooking the beautiful forest opposite. Aemond looked at his wife and saw that she blushed as she looked down. She knew what he was thinking.

He approached her slowly. He thought he wanted to take her like this, in that gown. Like in the story he wrote for her. That's how he'd always seen her, that's what she was to him. The personification of beauty. He kissed her passionately, and she moaned loudly. She wanted him to undo the buttons on her dress, but he stopped her.

"No. I want to take you in this dress." He said, taking her hand and leading her towards the door. She stared at him in surprise as they made their way down the back stairs and to the door. It was late at night and it was dark all around. They went outside, Y/N walked barefoot on the wet grass, there was no living soul around them. She saw her husband leading her towards the lake and gasped.

They settled near the shore, on the grass, the water pleasantly splashing, the sounds of reeds and grasshoppers all around them. Stars and the moon peeked through the small clouds, partially illuminating them. Aemond looked at her and cupped her cheek. Her lips quivered, she already knew what he wanted to do. He pressed his nose to her cheek, tracing it over her skin, Y/N exhaled softly, feeling her wetness trickle down between her thighs in anticipation.

"Lie down on the grass." He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, but she could hear his breathing quicken, his eye unable to hide his excitement, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. Y/N obediently did as he was told, not even thinking about the fact that she would probably get all dirty or someone might see them. Her lips were parted in desire.

Aemond took off his jacket, leaving him in only shirt and trousers, knelt in front of her and grabbed her legs. He spread her thighs, pulling her dress up. With a light movement, he took off her underwear and laid it next to him, undoing the belt of his pants himself. He stared at her darkly, his chest heaving in an uneven rhythm, his mouth parted.

"My Leana. God, I want you so much." He sputtered helplessly, and she felt something tighten in her throat, she felt like she was about to cry. What he did for her was so beautiful, that she felt that her heart would burst from the excess of feelings.

"My Emanor." She whispered and a single tear rolled down the side of her face. She drew in a ragged breath, her hands placed on either side of her head. Aemond leaned over her, looking at her anxiously.

"What happened, my love? Do you want me to stop?" He asked quietly, and she shook her head quickly, unable to utter a word. Her lips brushed his lips lightly, barely touching them. They caressed each other for a while, moaning softly, stroking their cheeks with their hands, enjoying each other's scent and the moment that seemed like a fairy tale.

"Spread your thighs wide." He whispered in her ear. "Let me possess all of you."

Y/N obediently did as he said, everything inside her clenched with excitement, she was all wet. Aemond ran his cock against her entrance and moaned low, as he felt how much moisture drained from her insides. He was throbbing all over, feeling that he wouldn't last long. Y/N threw her head back as she felt his tip slid into her a little, caressing her, pushing deeper with each thrust.

"I beg you, do it, take me for yourself" She whispered. He groaned at her words and entered her deeply, all the way, starting to move inside her involuntarily, he was no longer able to control his movements. Her cunt tightened on him mercilessly, intensifying his sensation. Aemond sped up and they both gasped loudly, seeking their own fulfillment.

He took her as if it was their first time, as if he had never touched her before, as if he had dreamed of her for many years. He watched her squirm beneath him, and he wanted to cry himself with lust, passion, and love. There was just her, her wedding ring glowing in the moonlight, her moans and misty eyes driving him insane.

"You're mine. Before the God, before the stars, before the world. Do you understand?" He hissed dangerously and she moaned loudly in response, the way he said it sent shivers down her spine. She felt her orgasm close, her insides tightening on his cock. Her hands tightened on his buttocks, impaling on him, both of them gasping as they stared into each other's eyes.

"Yes, Emanor, my beloved husband, take what is yours, take me and leave me nothing" She sputtered pleadingly, her words causing him to thrust her brutally several more times on the spot that gave her so much pleasure and she came hard, throwing her head back backwards, literally squeezing his semen into her. Aemond moved inside her for a moment longer, unable to stop, gasping her name, and she moaned softly beneath him. He finally collapsed on top of her, pressing his nose against her cheek.

Y/N began to sing softly, stroking his hair. She sang a childhood lullaby that her mother used to sing to her when she couldn't sleep. As he wished, Aemond fell into a blissful, peaceful sleep beside her. Even though they woke up soon after and went back to their room, not wanting to catch a cold, it was the most beautiful night of their lives.

***

Aemond lay beside his wife, his face pressed against her huge belly where his baby was writhing. A year after the wedding, they decided that Y/N would stop taking the pills. Eight months later, she found out she was pregnant.

Aemond decided it was time to relocate as their family was about to get bigger. As promised, he was looking for a home for them outside the city, somewhere they could retreat away from prying eyes. He took her on a few visits to different places, but nothing really convinced her. It wasn't until they reached the ivy-covered stone cottage with its beautiful old shutters, that he saw the twinkle in her eyes.

An old wooden kitchen with a tiled stove, a bookcase and beautiful old wallpapers made her fall in love with the place right away. Aemond found that this house was also his favorite of all. After negotiating with the seller, he bought the house and they could slowly move in.

Aemond ordered a large kennel for Vhagar so she could run around the garden and feel free at last. Aemond suspected she had a year or more to live, and he wanted to give her the best. One of the rooms has been prepared for a child. They knew it would be a son. Aemond was thrilled at the thought of holding his own child. He vowed to be a better father than Viserys. That he would believe his son, support him and be there when he needed him.

Y/N went into labor suddenly, standing in the kitchen, her cup of tea dropped from her hands as she felt a contraction and her waters drained. She clutched her stomach and screamed loudly in pain, and Aemond, terrified, rushed her straight to the hospital. It was still a few weeks too early.

It broke his heart to see how much she cried, afraid that the baby would die before they got there. He was just as scared as she was, and he wanted to cry just as much.

When they arrived, she was immediately taken to the labour ward. Aemond called Klaus and his mother to let them know what was going on. Klaus arrived ten minutes later, Alicent along with his sister and brother shortly after. Viserys was already having trouble walking and stayed home, not wanting to slow them down.

"How is she? What happened?" Klaus asked, horrified. Aemond shook his head.

"I don't know. She just suddenly collapsed and went into labor." He said, his mouth twitched, his eye red. His mother came over and hugged him tight, and he hugged her back, needing any comfort. Klaus ran a hand over his face, broken and pale, as if he was about to cry himself.

Aegon brought them coffee from the machine. He gave up therapy halfway through, still drinking, but at least he stopped going to brothels. He still slept with random girls he met, but at least he got himself together enough to work normally for their father and fulfill his company duties. He walked over to his younger brother and handed him a cup.

"She's a strong girl. Now in incubators they are able to support much younger children. Everything will be fine." He said, trying to sound neutral, but Aemond was surprised by his words. They looked at each other and nodded.

Helaena stroked his back as they sat tense in the waiting room. Even though he wanted to, the doctors wouldn't let him go inside. They decided to have a caesarean section, fearing for the baby's life.

After an hour, the doctor left the operating room, taking off his mask and gloves. Aemond stood up at once, terrified.

“The mother and child are alive, but your wife is very weak. Her body didn't take the surgery well." He said, and Aemond walked past him, going straight to the room where she lay. Despite the woman holding his baby beside him, Aemond walked over to the bed and grabbed his wife's hand. Y/N was all pale, her eyes barely open. Aemond touched her cheek, turning her face toward him.

"I am with you. Be brave for me." He said in a shaky voice, a helpless tear rolling down his cheek as he kissed her hand. Y/N pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

Fortunately, after a few days of medication and careful observation, she began to recover. Aemond had been with her in the hospital all these days, sleeping on the couch next to her, never leaving her side. Sometimes when he needed a bath or something to eat, Klaus took his place, watching over his sister like a watchman.

Their son was in an incubator. When Y/N had enough strength to get up, they went there together. She burst into tears seeing how tiny their son was. Aemond pulled her close to him and they stood there, embracing tightly, his lips kissing her hair once in a while.

"He's so tiny." She said softly and sobbed. Aemond held her tight against him.

"He will survive. You'll see."

***

Aemond was so stressed out by all these events that he remembered that their baby didn't have a name yet. They agreed at first that depending on whether it was a boy or a girl, either she or he would choose a name. It was a boy, so Aemond was to choose the name - of course, his wife had to approved his choice.

"Luke." He finally said and Y/N looked at him surprised.

"What?"

"Luke. Lucerys. That will be my son's name." He said calmly and looked at her confidently. His wife swallowed softly. A lot has changed in him since he went to therapy.

During one of the family events he took Luke aside and they talked alone in his room for several hours. Everyone was afraid of what was going on there, but no one wanted to interrupt them.

When they both came out, they looked like they had been through a marathon, all pale, their eyes were red, as if they were both crying. Their relationship has been good ever since. They didn't talk to each other much, but at least they didn't interact with each other like before.

“I want to come to terms with my past and move forward. Make that name go from being hated to one of my beloveds, after my wife's name." He said kissing her hand. Y/N smiled widely and accepted his choice.

Aemond was an exceptionally tender and caring father. He assisted her in all activities, taking the strain off her while she was still recovering from the surgery. She was on maternity leave because she had finished her studies and took a full-time job in the library.

The boy who had tried to date her gave up when Aemond once caught him in a university hallway and threatened to kill him with his own hands if he approached his wife again.

The baptism date they had set for themselves was slowly approaching and godparents had to be chosen. Her choice surprised him.

"I want Helaena to be our son's godmother and Marcus to be our son's godfather." She said calmly, her husband looked at her surprised from above the book. He just nodded, not questioning her decision in any way.

Both their families and friends had gathered at the church for a christening. Little Luke squirmed in his mother's arms, unable to sit still, everything aroused his interest. He had his father's blond hair, but his mother's sea-colored eyes. Aemond took him from her, seeing that it was getting harder for her to hold him.

"Give him to me, because I can see that he's getting emotional." He grunted, taking his son from his wife and looking at him. Luke immediately grabbed his eyepatch, as always, and he had to hold his hand to stop him. Luke squeaked loudly, dissatisfied.

Marcus walked over to Y/N, smiling warmly at them, looking at their son with joy in his eyes. He tickled his cheek with his finger, and Luke squealed again, this time with pleasure.

"Thank you for this honor." He said, turning his gaze back to Y/N. "You have added another person to my life that I want to live for." He said with a slight smile.

Marcus was still in therapy and looking much better. He had a drug addiction problem. To her surprise, he and Aemond called each other often, not just for business matters. They established some strange, masculine, friendly and cooperative relationship that she did not fully understand.

Marcus sometimes came to their house to visit his godson. Luke sat calmly on his lap, biting fiercely at the toy he had just given him. Marcus has become involved in helping rape victims in the courts, giving them free legal advice on certain days of the month.

The four of them were sitting in the garden, birds were singing around them, Vhagar was spread out under the table. Since Luke birth, she has been close to him and always slept by his cradle.

"Who would have thought you'd be so settled down with a baby and a home." Marcus laughed, looking at Luke, who had just started babbling something to him in his unintelligible language. He glanced at them, smiling calmly at them. "It's good to have friends like that."

Y/N smiled widely at him and looked at her husband. His hand gently stroked her thigh under the table. She placed her hand on his. He glanced at her and hummed softly in contentment. None of them had ever been so fulfilled in their lives before.

_____

Guys, thank you so much for all your words of support and this whole journey. This is the first story I've ever published! I did not expect such a response and your involvement in history. I am very happy with this chapter, I put everything I wanted in it. Now we're on the road with our demons from A Winter Beauty, and I'm already working on another story with Aemond. If you want to keep up to date, here's my Masterlist. 🥵🔥💖😵

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ~

@chainsawsangel @yentroucnagol @cardi-bre91 @melsunshine @bellaisasleep @candypurplebutterfly @malfoytargaryen @serrhaewin @svtansdaddyx @iiamthehybrid @beiigegalx @sarahkimtae @fangirlninja67 @namoreno @thetrueblackheart @opheliaas-stuff @zenka69 @namelesslosers

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khami-the-raccoon · 5 months

Note

Hello! Sorry to bother you!

Could you do Hannibal x Poet!Gn!Reader? The Reader writes a lot of Gothic poems. Perhaps Reader had a tough childhood and expresses it through writing?

Hello! You don’t bother at all, don’t worry. Thank you so much for your request :) I hope you like it

Hannibal x Poet! GN! Reader

Summary: Hannibal x GN! Reader, where reader is a poet who uses their memories of a tough childhood as inspiration to write.

Word count: 805

Hannibal Lecter Masterlist

General Masterlist

Y/N sat alone in a dimly lit café, their fingers tapping against the table as they anxiously waited for their coffee. The air was heavy with the aroma of freshly brewed espresso, mingling with the scent of old books that lined the shelves. Y/N was trying to concentrate on doing something for their job, but they couldn’t help but remember a painful memory of their past.

In their mind, Y/N saw their parents, their faces contorted with anger, yelling hurtful words. The painful recollection sent shivers down their spine, a stark reminder of the darkness that had shaped their soul.

Pushing the memory aside, Y/N decided they didn’t want to keep suffering like that, they had to find a different way to cope with the horribly vivid memories of their childhood day’s.

Y/N took out a pen and started writing a poem in the notebook they were supposed to do their job’s task. The poem was deep, painful. It made Y/N feel better now that they had finally found a way to cope with all the trauma.

A few weeks later, Y/N found themselves at an underground poetry club, the neon lights illuminating a diverse crowd of artists, misfits, and dreamers. Y/N, with an air of vulnerability and resilience, took the stage and began to recite their haunting verses, each word a piece of their soul laid bare.

Y/N had put all their effort on the poem, all their feelings and tears. And the audience could see if. They saw how talented Y/N was.

But amid the sea of strangers, Y/N's words reached a particular pair of piercing eyes, who had found Y/N’s poem particularly beautiful. Hannibal Lecter, the psychiatrist, had been drawn to the club by the allure of dark poetry. He sat in the shadows, captivated by the raw emotion that flowed from Y/N's lips, every word a testament to their strength and pain.

After the performance, Hannibal approached Y/N, their worlds colliding in that dimly lit club. “I must say, you made a great job with your poem” Hannibal said while approaching Y/N, who smiled. “Thank you, I really made an effort to write it” Y/N answered.

“May I ask for your name?” Hannibal asked with a smile “I’m Y/N L/N, nice to meet you” Y/N said. “I’m Hannibal Lecter… it’s a real pleasure to meet you too”. Just as they introduced each other, they went to a table nearby and sat down.

They shared their stories, their passions, and their hearts. In each other, they found a profound connection, a love born from shared darkness and a mutual appreciation for the beauty found in life's complexities.

Y/N's voice was trembling as they spoke with Hannibal, their emotions still raw from the performance. "I never thought someone would truly understand what I've been through” they said as they talked with Hannibal about their childhood.

Hannibal's eyes bore into Y/N's, a genuine sincerity in his words. "Your words are a window into your soul, and I believe they reveal a depth of experience that few can see. You have a gift." Hannibal said, looking at Y/N with adoring eyes. Hannibal had fallen in love with them since the first moment he heard their poem.

As their conversations deepened, Y/N discovered Hannibal's fascination with the human psyche and his background in psychiatry. He, in turn, learned of Y/N's love for dark poetry and the catharsis it provided. Their connection grew stronger with each passing moment.

In the following weeks, they spent more time together, exploring the depths of their souls and allowing their love to blossom. Hannibal's elegant charm and Y/N's haunting creativity complemented each other perfectly, creating a unique and intense connection that transcended their troubled pasts.

They were now in Hannibal’s mansion. Hannibal had invited Y/N over to have dinner together, since Hannibal was an expert cooking. While Hannibal cooked, Y/N sat in a couch nearby and took out their notebook and pen, and started writing a beautiful poem, using two things as inspiration, their pain, and the love they were feeling for a certain person.

As they were writing, they didn’t realize Hannibal was behind them, and had read what Y/N was writing. And suddenly, Hannibal put his arms around Y/N and hugged them gently and lovingly. Then kissed their cheek. “I love you, Y/N” Hannibal said. “I love you too, Hannibal”

Y/N's poetry became even more profound with Hannibal by their side, and Hannibal saw in Y/N not only a gifted poet but a soulmate who shared his appreciation for the complexities of life and the beauty to be found within the darkest corners of the human experience.

#male reader #fanfic #x male reader #writing #trans male reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #x gn reader #gn reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x you #hannibal

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ficthots · 2 years

Text

Special Delivery

A/N: Tooth rotting fluff (smut *ahem, daddy kink*). Have you ever wondered what Josh would send you as he traveled around the world? Yeah, me either. As always let me know what you guys think and as always enjoy! (P.S. to save you some time: Clair de lune=Moonlight; Lune=Moon)

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, DNI if you are under 18!

Word Count: 8.3k+

Being in someone's thoughts is one of the most telling signs of how a person thinks of you. There is a chance you can be entirely despised by said person and in their thoughts of you they are anything but friendly. A friend's thoughts of you can refer back to fond memories you share with one another that puts a smile on their face, recalling silly times spent together. However, many believe that nothing can compare to a lover's thoughts of you.

They think of you in the most affectionate ways, more than anyone else. Thoughts wander off about how delicate you looked that morning, still asleep while they got ready for work. How your eyes crinkle closed as you laugh at their stupid joke that no one else would ever understand, but of course you did as you wiped at the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. The twinkle you got in your eye as you listened to them speak so passionately about their aspirations and desires. After being together for a bit of time, you would be able tell what the other person was thinking at a social gathering just by the way they set their mouth, eyes stealing glances at one another, silently asking if it was time to go.

A lover's thoughts couldn’t even begin to compare to how your soulmate thought about you. They would watch you as you vacuumed the house on a lazy Sunday morning and view you as if you went and pulled the sun up from the horizon just for them. Admiring you from the shared bed as you quietly hummed along to the music playing lowly in the background, applying your skincare for the night, knowing they had never seen a more gorgeous creature and never would.

These thoughts would never cease, even if they were across the world. Which right now, your soulmate was.

Josh was chasing his dreams with his brothers, playing for millions of adoring fans around the world, and you couldn’t have been happier for them, for him. You firmly believed that he had been picked from the Earth just for you. Mother Nature had carefully crafted each aspect of his dazzling personality to be the missing puzzle piece made to complete you.

Your souls were meant to find one another and dance through life with him by your side. He made you feel like he would craft the world to your liking, doing whatever he could to see you smiling and happy, molding it to whatever you desired that day.

When he was gone for a majority of the year, it was difficult, but you knew that his thoughts were riddled with you as he did the most mundane tasks for the day. Just like when you brushed your teeth in the morning, you thought of getting a new toothbrush that evening when you were going grocery shopping and to pick one up for him, too, knowing he was due for a new one.

You shipped it to wherever he was in the world that week and he called you, the brightest aspect of your day as his face lit up your screen, holding the toothbrush like it was the most precious gift he had ever received.

“Now, darling, how did you know I needed a new toothbrush? Look at my old one,” he would grab the old and flash it on the screen, bristles sticking a million different directions, tossing it in the garbage as he clutched the new one in his hand. “You just always seem to know what I need.”

Josh’s thoughts about you seeped into every section of his day that they could. He was a creative, artistic, and affectionate man who always wanted to show you how much you truly meant to him, even if he was trapezing around the globe.

The first package arrived at your door only a couple weeks into the international aspect of their tour. It was gorgeously packaged, the simple brown box hidden beneath a map of the country they were in, a large heart drawn around the city where he had found the items in the present. Twine wrapped around it, a pressed flower glued below the bow.

You called him immediately, shock and giggles flowing from you as he instructed you to set your phone up on the counter so he could watch you unwrap it. Leaning your phone against the vase on your kitchen island, he had the perfect view to see your reaction as you opened it.

“It’s so pretty, sunshine. I don’t want to ruin the packaging,” you moved the box around as you spoke, sipping from your wine glass, only having the dim lighting on in the house as he sat on his hotel balcony, the sunset starting to illuminate him in a golden glow, somehow making him more breathtaking.

“Don’t worry, I took a million pictures of it. Rip it open,” you took your bottom lip in between your teeth as you gently pulled the twine, setting it off to the side and began carefully pulling the sides open. “Baby, I said rip it!” His laughter flowed from how gentle you were being, but you shook your head, stopping your movements.

“Absolutely not! You spent a lot of time on this and I want to keep the map and flower, plus I can reuse the twine,” you stuck your tongue out at him as he groaned, falling back into his chair as you pulled the box out from the opened wrapping end.

As you peeled the tape from it, white tissue paper with gold splattering covered the items inside. You rummaged through, fingers feeling a cool metal brush your fingertips as your brow furrowed in confusion.

You removed the item and gasped, eyes going wide at the beautiful gold trinket box that sat in your hands. The ornate design traveled around the box, a singular moon sat on the center of the lid and as you set it on the counter you opened it and saw a small card sitting in the crushed velvet interior, another small box sitting beside it.

“Open the other box first, lune,” your heart skipped a beat as you did. Inside sat a gold heart locket and when you opened it, two small silhouette photos were on both sides. The one on the left was of you and the one on the right was of him.

You opened the card and saw the efforts of clean handwriting from him on the gorgeous stationery he obviously purchased just for this, knowing how much you would appreciate the effort.

To adorn as a reminder that my clair de lune has my heart with her wherever we sit in the world and a safe place to store it while she waits for her sunshine to reappear

The delicate chain hung between your fingers as you looked back at your boy, a blush creeping across the apples of his cheeks. A knock sounded at his hotel room door, signaling it was time for him to go play for whatever city awaited him that night.

“I love you, lune and when I see the moon tonight I will think about your glow illuminating me.” You didn’t know how he was able to make you feel like a lovesick puppy, but he did. Every time you spoke to him, he did.

You sat on your shared couch that night, staring at the beautiful gifts he had gotten you, struggling to figure out how to show him just how much this meant to you and you smiled, an idea bouncing into your mind.

The next day you were fishing through the spare bedroom and you found the case in the back of the closet. One of his older camcorders sat in your hand as you checked the batteries and SD card before you made a run to the camera shop you frequented with your love when he was home and purchased the missing card.

When you got home you grabbed the tripod to set it up facing your vanity. It was a risky game balancing it as it was not meant for this camera, but when you got the perfect shot, you celebrated quietly, going to finish getting ready.

You put on one of the sweaters you knew were his favorites and ensured the look was exactly what you wanted. All that was visible was your face from the tip of your nose down, focusing more on where you would be placing the necklace, but that the trinket box was visible in the shot.

You gingerly opened the box, seeing that the necklace was laid exactly how you wanted it to be, a few rings, and a pair of earrings placed intricately next to it. Removing the necklace from the box you brought it to your neck, clasping it with ease, making a show of laying it correctly on your chest, and then closing the box.

You applied a spritz of perfume to your neck, brining your lipstick to your lips and applying a small amount, setting it back down and smiling in the mirror softly.

You stood and grinned, spending the remainder of the day editing the footage. The vintage look was something Josh would adore. Home videos were one of his favorite things to make with you, using a variety of different video options, but he would be amazed at your skills here. It wasn’t up to par with what he was doing in your mind, but you knew he would adore the effort nonetheless.

Just a couple weeks later another package sat on your doorstep as you arrived home from work. You picked it up, bringing it inside as you sat down in the same spot as before, but as you were about to call him, someone rang the doorbell, having you go back to the door with a small, frustrated sigh.

“Hi, I have a flower delivery here,” your eyes bugged out at the beautiful bouquet that the woman held for you. You quickly thanked her, bringing the bundle of florals inside and setting them on the counter next to the package. He knew how retched your day had been and was doing everything in his power to make it better.

Another stress riddled day at work had you missing Josh more than usual, wanting nothing more than to come home from work and fall into his arms. This was one of the hardest aspects of your relationship and while most of the time you could handle it, today was simply a different day.

He had loaded your coffee app for you that morning after hearing about the day you were going to have from you the night before, ordered lunch to your office knowing you wouldn’t be taking a lunch break today, and bombarded your phone with texts all day about how much he admired, loved, and missed you.

As you dialed him, his beaming smile graced your screen. “Well, if it isn’t the most gorgeous, breathtaking, beauty this world has ever known and will ever know, calling me, of all people,” you laughed at his words, heat creeping up your neck. He was in his red jumpsuit, letting you know you only had a few fleeting minutes before it was time to share him again.

“How’re you doing, my darling? Did the package get there?” You tiredly sighed as his gaze softened on you. “Yes it did, I can’t wait to open it. I miss you, a lot, sunshine,” your voice cracked as you sniffled, eyes dropping down as tears threatened to escape.

His sad tone carried through as he spoke to you. “You have no idea how badly I want to be there with you right now. I miss you, too, baby,” as he continued a knock came from his dressing room door, interrupting him.

“Josh, you’re on in one!” The voice yelled through the door and your heart ached as he squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching in frustration. “You need to go, honey. I love you and I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” you wiped at your wet cheeks, Josh’s gaze boring into you.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, clair de lune. Open the package tonight, okay? I love you,” he kissed his camera as you laughed wetly at him, hearing the loud beeping of the ended FaceTime call echo into the quiet house. You leaned back against your chair, looking at the package that sat on the counter waiting for you.

This one was just as beautiful as the one before. It had brown paper wrapped around it, a plethora of dried flowers decorated the outside, all the way around. One thick, emerald green ribbon wrapped around it, another thinner gold one laid on top, tied together in a beautiful bow.

Being just as careful as the first time, you removed the box, seeing it was significantly larger than the first was, but lighter.

Peeling the tape back, the same tissue paper greeted you and you couldn’t fight the smile that took over your face. In bubble wrap was a ceramic white teacup with a gold trim on the rim of the cup and around the border of the matching plate. The handle curved into an intricate design on the side of the cup, a small, singular chocolate sat right in the middle.

Below the cup were three records. You gasped as you saw the titles of them, shock coursing through you as you placed them on the counter. “How did he find these?”

You saw another card sitting at the bottom of the box and smiled, the same attempt of calligraphy sat on another stationary card.

To drink your morning coffee, because you despise tea, but love teacups, and listen to the sound of my love for you, darling

Eyes brimming with tears for the second time that night you hopped off the chair and went to the record player that sat in the living room, placing it on the turntable, eyes closing as the music filled the space.

The next morning you moved the record player to the balcony, getting the camcorder as you went to set up the shot. You wore his favorite night slip he had gotten you as a birthday gift one year. You had eyed it in a store window for months, not being able to justify the price, but he knew you too well.

After your usual farmers market perusing and brunch to follow, you two strolled past the shop and your face visibly fell as you saw it was gone. The next weekend you opened the bag he had handed you and the silk poured into your hands, the delicate stitched flowers rubbed against your fingertips. You jumped onto him, shocked he had noticed how badly you wanted it.

Now you wore it as you wandered out to the patio for the video, teacup in hand with your coffee, as the sun began to peek out for another day. It wasn’t the same sunshine he basked you in every time he was around, but for now it would do. The profile of your face was visible as you sat in one of the outdoor chairs, bringing the cup to your lips and sipping the scalding liquid.

In the background, the gentle notes floated through the air of one of the records he had picked for you, the gold necklace laying on your chest.

Life continued on regularly for the next couple of weeks, nothing out of the ordinary or spectacular, but you were out of the small rut you had been in. Daily talks with Josh had your spirits high as your heart longed for him to be near again, but knowing that was still many months off from now meant being content with what you could have.

The next package arrived on a weekday morning, torturing you as it sat there waiting for you to get home. You anxiously texted Josh, making sure it wasn’t too valuable to be outside for the entire day, fear of it being taken riddled you.

You hadn’t heard back from him by the time your lunch break rolled around so you quickly made your way home. A breath of relief fell from you as you saw it was there waiting for you. As you made your way inside with the heavier box, your phone rang.

“Lune, I’m so sorry, honey, soundcheck ran so late today, we were having all sorts of problems. Did you come home for lunch? The camera went off. Is everything okay? Are you feeling alright?” you wedged the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you sat the box on the counter.

“I did. A package arrived from you and I was so worried it was going to be taken, so I came home to put it inside,” he chuckled at you as he spoke a little louder, wherever he was going was growing noisier as he moved.

“Okay, love. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I have to go, but I’ll call you tonight. I love you,” you said it back, ending the call as you eyed the package.

The same brown paper adorned the outside, but this one had doilies wrapped around it, a postcard from the city he had purchased whatever the present was sat on the front doily, a sage green ribbon tied on the front.

You chewed on your lip, trying to justify opening it without Josh, but you slapped your own hand as it went to pull on the long end of the ribbon. “No, you have to wait.”

You somehow dragged yourself out of the house and back to work, but the entire day you thought about what would be in this one. There had been no real theme going on the gifts no matter how much you thought about it.

When you pulled into the driveway and got home, within seconds your phone was ringing. He was dressed again, gold jumpsuit tonight, rhinestones already on his cheeks. “Ah, there she is! Love of my life. Look you’ll be proud of me,” he flipped the camera to show himself in the mirror, “I finished getting ready early to have a few more minutes on the phone.”

Your heart flipped at his words, but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction so easily. “Wow, you mean you managed your time better tonight? You’re right honey, I am proud of you,” he scoffed at your tone.

“You have a little attitude tonight. I will gladly take that present back that I know you’re eyeing right now if you’re not careful,” you set the phone on the counter as you sat, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

You hummed into your glass. “Mhm, but you’re not here so really, what could you do? Punish me?” A glint of mischief entered his eyes at your words. “Tread carefully, lune,” you smirked into your glass as you stood, quickly leaning forward to show you were wearing the necklace before continuing your movements.

Your hands fanned your face as they slowly went to the hem of your shirt. “Gosh, it’s warm in here,” you slowly peeled the fabric off, watching as his jaw clicked, seeing you in just your bra, only being able to see from the waist up.

Letting your hands go behind your back you unclasped your bra, the straps slowly falling off your shoulders. It fell to the hardwood floor with a small clattering noise as you stretched, hands going above your head as Josh laughed darkly at your motions, your hand traveling towards the waistband of your pants.

“Knock it off,” he spoke through clenched teeth, clearly enjoying this little show, despite his best efforts to be menacing. You stepped back from your phone letting him get a clear view of your entire body as you started pushing your pants off your legs.

“I don’t know, Joshy. It’s still really warm in here,” they pooled around your ankles, but you kicked them off, leaving you only in your lace panties that, as you turned around to pick up the articles of clothing you had removed, displayed your ass perfectly.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out with a chuckle, almost in disbelief you were actually doing this right now. You set the clothes on the back of the couch and looked over your shoulder at him. “What do you think? Panties on or off?”

Your fingertips dipped under the sides of them, starting to pull them down, hearing him take in a sharp breath as you slid them further down your hips, finally removing them leaving you fully nude on FaceTime with him.

“How much time you got, sunshine?” You asked him as you leaned against the back of the couch, legs parting, fingers going into your mouth to wet them before running over your nipple. Your head rolled back at the sensation, teasing yourself as you waited for him.

He was palming himself over the jumpsuit, leaving nothing to the imagination as he strained against the material. You watched him in the mirror as he took his arms out of the sleeves, spitting into his hand as he enclosed it around his cock, rubbing his tip with a harsh grip.

“Enough time. I want you to suck on your fingers and then bring them to your pussy and touch yourself for me, baby. Can you do that for daddy?” You whimpered at his words, nodding your head as you did as he said.

Taking your fingers into your mouth, you coated them with your saliva before moving them down to your cunt. “There you go, baby. I want you to imagine it’s my hands touching you,” a breathless moan left your mouth as your fingers lightly swirled around your clit.

His breathing was short and quick as he stroked himself. “Do you see what you do to me, mama? Have me fucking watching you like a goddamn pervert. Do you like doing this for me? Being a little attention whore for daddy? Stripping on camera for me, playing with yourself like the little slut you are,” you were choking on your own moans as you toyed with your clit, listening to him talk.

“Look at me, mama. Take a finger and fuck yourself on it,” you followed his commands instantly, removing your other hand from your nipple, feeling your slick coat your entrance as you slid it in.

“How does that feel, baby?” You whimpered as you responded to him, eyes almost crossing as you watched his hand furiously work himself, a sheen of sweat glistening off of him as he jerked off to you.

It was dirty watching him do this in a room so close to his brothers and those that worked for them, but it made it so much better knowing that he was doing this for you.

“‘S good, daddy,” as the name left your mouth a groan fell from him. You moved faster, adding another finger as you fucked yourself for him.

“God, you look like a fucking vision, mama. I wish you could see yourself like this. Fucked out for me, getting yourself off before I have to go on stage. You’re close aren’t you, baby?” You nodded your head quickly, moans tumbling out of you as you felt the familiar warmth blossom in your lower stomach.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. Cum for daddy,” you released as those words left his mouth, knees almost buckling as the sensation washed over you. His moans grew louder as he finished, cum spurting out onto the floor and mirror in front of him.

His eyes never left you as you came back down to reality, his smile taking over his face. “Jesus, mama. I wasn’t expecting that tonight,” your necklace stuck to your sweat covered chest as you moved back to the counter to grab your phone, legs weak from what had just happened.

You watched as he redressed, grabbing tissues from the table by him to clean up. “Sorry, sunshine. I missed you,” his laughter boomed as he finished cleaning up the room, a flush look taking over his cheeks.

“Oh, baby, do not apologize to me. The day I ever turn that down, you take me out and shoot me,” your laughter mixed with his as he sighed, knowing it was time to go.

“You totally look like you just came, by the way. They’re gonna love that on the barricade,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes. “Have a great show, honey. I love you,” you kissed your camera as he did the same.

“Love you more, lune. Open the package! I’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey,” the call ended as he walked out of the room and you felt heat rushing to your face as you thought about what you had just done for him.

After you showered you made your way back to the kitchen, seeing the box waiting for you and you continued the soft movements you always did to make sure the wrapping wouldn’t be destroyed.

The whiplash of going from touching yourself on video for him to the sweet gesture of his gifts had you in a laughing fit, taking a pause to not miss anything as you opened it.

As you pulled the tissue paper back, more bubble wrap greeted you. You picked up the object, feeling how heavy it was in your hand. A gasp left you as you saw the crystal cake stand that you held in your hand.

It had a beautiful design etched into it around the cake base and stand, a slight green hue mixing in with the clear crystal. Tea towels sat around it in the box and as you took them out, smiling at the adorable designs, a card sat waiting for you.

To display your passion of baking that keeps me stuffed with your love and admiration

You immediately went to the fridge and scouted the contents, seeing you had everything you needed for your video tomorrow.

The next afternoon you set up the shot after having spent all morning baking a strawberry cheesecake to sit perfectly on the stand. You gently placed it onto the crystal, ensuring that the record could be heard playing in the back, necklace was on display, one of the tea towels resting on the tie of your waist high apron, and the teacup was visible to the side of the ingredients you strategically placed for the video.

As you started recording you took a piping bag, putting one final whipped cream swirl on a slice, placing a half of a strawberry on it. You set the bag down on the cluttered countertop, spinning the stand to display the full cake.

You smiled triumphantly as it turned out exactly how you imagined it would. Your phone began ringing as you checked the screen. Josh was trying to FaceTime you right then and you went into panic mode. You wanted this to be a surprise for him so you quickly put the camera on the counter behind you so he couldn’t see it.

“Hello my clair de lune! I’m missing you an awful lot today. We were in the city center and we went through a farmers market and all I could think of was our market days and then how we would go to brunch before coming home and cooking dinner,” he sighed as he talked, clearly feeling the heavy weight of sadness today as he thought of you.

“Sunshine, I missed you, too. I actually went to the market this morning, look,” you flipped the camera showing him the cheesecake sitting on the cake stand. His entire face lit up as he saw it.

“You’re using it, already! Did you get the strawberries from Janice?” You flipped the camera back around and popped a strawberry into your mouth and nodded. “Mhm. Needed to keep myself busy so I wasn’t spending the entire day moping around,” you giggled, licking extra whipped cream from your finger.

You two stayed on the phone for hours, talking about anything and everything you could. You talked everyday so it wasn’t like there was a whole lot to fill each other in on, but you didn’t get free time like this to talk hardly ever.

His eyes squinted as he looked at the screen as you were talking. “And I told her that we’ve never done things like that before so I have no idea who taught her that, but it just isn’t-what?” You turned around to see what he was trying to look at.

“Is that my old camcorder on the counter?” You swallowed thickly, trying to play it cool as you answered him. “Oh yeah. One of my co-workers was asking about what cameras you have. He’s super into film things, too.” It was a total lie. That co-worker did not exist, but Josh bought it quickly.

“That’s awesome. He and I should hang out sometime. Which co-worker is it? I’ve met all your co-workers and I don’t remember any of them saying anything about film,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth to keep the surprise from him.

“No, you haven’t met him. He’s new-ish. Started a couple months ago,” he dropped it right after that, showing you what he was having for dinner that night. You could feel the sweat pooling on the back of your neck. You hated lying to him.

You didn’t lie to him unless you absolutely had to, but it still put a sick feeling in your stomach. It was going to be worth it in the end.

A few weeks later, a knock blew through the house. It was a Saturday morning and you weren’t expecting anyone so when you answered and saw a delivery driver with a ginormous box, your eyes widened in surprise.

“Just need a signature on this,” you signed on his device, thanking him as he handed it off to you. You struggled to bring it inside, the sheer weight of it making your arms ache. The packaging wasn’t special with this one, knowing because of the size he wasn't able to do too much.

There were still dried flowers in one of the corners, but after you took them off, you weren’t worried about keeping the rest of the box.

You knew calling Josh wasn’t an option today. They were in back to back interviews, then soundcheck, then the show. He had no freetime today so you took it upon yourself to open the packaging and your jaw fell slack at what stared back at you.

A vintage, beautiful, typewriter sat in there surrounded by packing peanuts. You quickly grabbed scissors, cutting the edges of the box to be able to slide it out with ease. As the cool metal touched your hands, you realized you were trembling.

There wasn’t a card with this one, but a small piece of paper sitting in the paper rest.

To write whatever your imaginative heart desires and to share our love story with the world

You didn’t know what to do as you sat there staring at it, almost afraid to use it. It was in immaculate condition, knowing he must have spent a fortune to get one this old in working shape for you.

Your hands shook as you set up the shot for the next part of your video. You moved to your desk and had it sitting in the center, papers scattered around the table surrounding it. Your tea cup sat on one of the stacks, leaving a coffee ring on it. This time you were able to make the record player visible, so you set the cover of the record against the turntable as the record played, your necklace proudly on display.

You sat down, fingertips brushing the keyboard, eyes fluttering shut as the click of the first key was made. With the camera rolling, you began quickly typing, stopping momentarily to bring the cup to your lips, letting the coffee ring be visible on the paper that read, “And So The Sun Fell In Love With The Moon.”

The packages started coming more frequently knowing that his return home was due in just a few more weeks. The next one came the following week, exactly seven days after the previous, and you were finally able to open it on FaceTime with him again.

“You know the best part of watching you do this is seeing your reaction to these. I wish I could’ve seen what you looked like when you opened the typewriter!” He was laughing as you removed the tape from the box.

“You would’ve seen me look like an idiot just sitting there staring at it. I have no idea how you managed to do that, Josh,” his laugh flowed through the air around you, your heart longing for its sunshine.

As you removed the tissue paper you saw two antique candlestick holders sitting there with custom designed candlesticks to match. The card was tied to one and you turned it over, bursting with laughter from the message.

To ensure that my life will never be out of light so long as I have the burning flame of your love to guide me (I could’ve said something about lighting my love, but you deserve better than that)

You grabbed the box and your phone, taking them to the bedroom and setting them on your nightstand tables, stepping back to the door to show Josh where you had put them.

“It’s perfect. Now I will have some gleams of my sunlight even when he’s not here,” you smiled softly as you looked at the room, hearing Josh sniffle after.

“I’m sorry I’m not there, lune,” you quickly backtracked, feeling horrible that you had said that in a way he would have taken negatively. “Oh, Josh, no. I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” he shook his head and chuckled as he laid back on his pillow.

“No, I know you didn’t. I’m just sorry that I’m not there.” You comforted him on the phone for as long as you could before you both were so exhausted that you couldn’t stay awake any longer. He watched you for a while as you softly snored through the speaker, not having closed the curtains and seeing the moonlight stream against your face, just wanting to feel his own moonlight again.

The following day you finished shooting the video with the candles. You lit them, having them be the only illumination in the room as you entered the space. You sat on your side of the bed, removing the necklace and placing it in the trinket box, leaning over and blowing out the candle, setting the room in total darkness.

Josh told you that the next package would be the last of the tour given they were due home in just seven days. You were giddy with excitement at the knowledge that so soon he would be home again. Yours to hold for as long as you wanted. Simply yours again.

He was upset he wouldn’t be able to watch you open the last one, playing a show that night and you were getting off of work late. He said it was his second favorite of them all, refusing to tell you what the actual favorite was.

This box was the biggest of them all, a million stamps adorned the outside, all of the other wrappings meshed together into one for this. You smiled as you laid it on the floor, carefully opening it.

You fell silent as you saw what was in this box. Dozens of antique, intricate, picture frames of varying sizes. As you removed them one at a time you were more in love with the next. The card sat on the bottom and your tears welled in your eyes, just wanting to hug him for all he’d done.

To fill our walls with gorgeous memories: past, present, and future, of us to adorn our home with the purest and brightest love

As your eyes fell to one of medium size you immediately knew what you wanted to put in it. You went and found it in one of the books Josh kept in the spare room and put it in the frame.

Grabbing the camcorder you dressed in his favorite dress, record playing, necklace out, teacup on the coffee table, candle on the side table, you stood on the couch and hung the frame on the center of the wall.

You stepped off and as you walked away it came into view and you stood behind the camera, letting it linger for a second on the picture.

It was from the night before he left on tour. You two were standing in the living room, eyes shut as your foreheads rested against one another, hand holding his against your chests as you danced slowly in the room, only lit by candlelight. He had, unbeknownst to you, set his camera on the counter and had it snap a few pictures of you both, and when you saw that one, it instantly became your favorite.

Two days before Josh was home, another package was delivered. You called him as you brought it inside, laughing as he answered. “So, why is there another package sitting on the counter right now, my love?” You didn’t bother with pleasantries as his giggles came out.

“You cannot open that one until I’m home, understand?” You were of course going to wait, but you wanted to tease him a bit. “I don’t know, I’m very intrigued. Who’s to say I don’t open and then rewrap it-” before you could continue he yelled over the phone. “Don’t! Baby, I’m begging, please don’t open it, okay? You have to wait for me,” your teasing tone halted at how worried he sounded.

“Okay, okay, I was just joking, sunshine. Of course, I was going to wait for you,” a huge breath of air expelled from his lungs as his own joking came back. “Thank you, lune. Baby, we’re about to do our last interview of this tour, so close to being home. I cannot wait. I love you,” you repeated it to him and hung up.

You sat there staring at the present, trying to figure out why the hell it had been so important to him. What did he buy? He probably blew a bunch of money and needs to be there to explain why.

You let it go, grabbing the CD you had burned with the finished product of your little videos, absolutely in love with how it had turned out. The entire following day, you scrubbed the house, not that it was messy by any means, but to make sure everything was perfect for him.

You had lit the last candle in the living room and kitchen when the front door opened the next night. Your heart was doing somersaults in your chest, hands a shaking mess as he appeared in the doorway.

He wasted no time, running across the room and scooping you up into his arms. They enclosed so tightly around your waist, letting your arms wrap around his neck. Sobs wracked your entire body as he held you for the first time, his entire body shaking as he tried to calm his own breathing down.

Neither of you wanted to pull back first, but he took your face in his hands, the biggest smile you had ever seen in your life took over his face as he looked at you like it was the first time he had ever seen you. “Hi, lune,” you giggled through your tears, his thumbs brushing your wet cheeks, your hands clutching onto his shirt.

“Hi, sunshine,” his lips connected to yours and it was like you were whole again. You had been without him for too long and you knew a piece of you was missing, but now you knew it was more than just a piece. It was half of you.

It didn’t take long for you to lead him towards your shared room, lips never leaving each other as your breathing grew deeper, almost in disbelief that he was actually here. Your hands tangled into his hair after you removed his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body emanate against yours.

He laid you down, lips moving from yours down to your neck, and as his fingertips touched the necklace he stopped. “Oh my god. I’ve missed you so much,” his voice cracked, shaking uncontrollably as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, tears hitting your skin.

You pulled his face up to yours and smiled as you rubbed your thumbs over his cheeks. “I’m gonna be honest, if I think too much about it, I’m worried I’ll pass out,” you spoke to him in a whisper and he laughed, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes shut, breathing you in for just a moment, letting you ground him back down to reality. A reality you didn’t let yourself think about too often because if you did, you would never be okay without him again. His lips gently landed in between your brows, moving down the slope of your nose, to your chin, both cheeks, eyelids, hands holding your jaw as he moved.

It was his way of telling himself that it was real and actually happening, not a fantasy he had to envision in order to sleep at night. Your pulse beat rapidly underneath his fingertips, your breathing the sweetest music he had ever listened to, and as he opened his eyes and saw you already peering at him, reading his soul, he knew he was home.

He kissed you again, hands gliding along your bare ribcage, having slipped your dress off on the way into the room. He left a trail of searing marks with his mouth down your chest and sternum, moving further down until he was at your sex.

Josh wasted no time, his mouth attached to you and you cried out at the feeling. He moved his hands to find yours by your side, lacing your fingers together as he ate you out like he was a starving man and you were his only source of nutrition.

You finished in record time, feeling his smile as you came in his mouth, your juices coating his mouth and chin, leaving them in a glistening sheen. As he came back up to you, he kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth like he never had the pleasure of doing it before.

“Josh, please. I need you. Need to feel you,” he didn’t say anything to your begging, just let his cock slide easily into you. His face contorted in pleasure, stilling as he let you adjust, knowing you would need to after how long it had been.

His pace was excruciating, but he needed this. To feel every pulsating move you had against him, to feel every aspect of you he could. He craved this, ached for this, would beg for this for the rest of his life if he needed to.

His thrusts were slow as your legs wrapped around him, his hands landing on either side of your head, watching you in awe as your forehead had beads of sweat forming on your brow line, looking at him like he was the entire universe to you.

He spilled into you as he murmured about how much he loved you and how much he missed you. You felt his weight collapse on top of you and for the first time in months it felt like you could breathe again. Like Josh was the oxygen you craved to make the ache in your lungs go away and he had fixed you again.

You both laid in bed, just staring at each other, seeing what features had changed on one another while they were gone. What you wouldn’t be able to notice on a FaceTime call. You whispered between one another, not wanting anyone else in the world to hear your conversation because it was meant just for you two.

As he handed you your night slip, he took your hand in his. “Come on. I want you to open the package,” you followed him out of the room, wrapping your arm around his, afraid to let him get too far from you.

As you approached the counter, the candles still burned in the room, casting it in a warm and soft glow, just how your home was supposed to look. “Wait, hold on,” you said as he slid the present to you.

You walked him around the house, showing him where you had placed all of his gifts and he looked enthralled by it, like you were telling some wonderful story that you had just come up with on the spot.

“I actually have a present for you first,” you smiled at him as you reentered the kitchen. His eyebrows shot up at that and watched as you slid the CD over to him. “Lune, what is this?” You giggled as he opened the case and grabbed his laptop from his bag.

As the video played, his face morphed from excited to total bewilderment. “Baby, you did this?” He spoke out as it finished. You nodded your head, nervously playing with your hands as you waited for him to talk.

He grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss as he looked back at the screen. “Clair de lune, that was beautiful,” his voice faltered, eyes getting glossy as he beamed at you. “I’m going to cherish this for the rest of my days and beyond. I’m serious,” he chuckled as your laughter boomed in the space.

“That was amazing. Best home video yet,” he said, but his demeanor changed at the end, handing you the box that had been teasing you for days.

His hands gripped your waist, adjusting you to stand directly in front of him his chest pressing into your back, his increased heartbeat giving away that he was more nervous than he was leading you to believe.

"No card with this one. You have to listen to me explain it, okay?" You nodded in response as his breath tickled your neck.

He stood right behind you, hands on your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he eagerly watched you open it. When you peel the box open there sits a gorgeous perfume bottle that you carefully took in your hands.

“Josh, this is gorgeous,” he kisses your shoulder and nudges you. “I wanted you to have a custom scent that’s reserved for special days. You can only wear it on those occasions. There’s more, keep going, baby,” you smile as you pull out a bottle of wine and listen to his explanation.

“I picked this wine in Italy. They say to save it for the most romantic night of your life. Couple more things,” he kissed your neck before urging you to continue on. You grabbed a wax seal stamp and a wax stick that was the most gorgeous shade of emerald green you had ever seen.

His hand came down over yours, flipping the seal over to show what it was. It was in a beautiful cursive font that had the first initial of your name at the top, the sun and moon in between them, and his initial at the bottom, different twirls of them looping together, signaling you were one.

“I had them custom make this so we can use it on stationary,” you were speechless as your eyes danced over it. “For what?” His smile grew against your shoulder, hand still resting on top of yours. “Grab the last thing in there and I’ll tell you.”

You gently placed the items on the counter and you felt your fingers brush against what felt like a tiny book. You grabbed it out and your smile grew as you looked at it.

It was wrapped in a deep blue, gold lettering and embellishments on the binding and covers. You whispered out the title of it, letting your fingers dance across it.

“And So The Sun Fell In Love With The Moon,” He hummed at your words, fingers moving over yours and having you open it. The inside pages had a small hole in the middle and when you saw what sat in there your mouth dropped, shaking hand covering your mouth.

“The entire time I was gone, I thought about the best gifts I could get you. It was hard to top myself because this-” he grabbed the ring out of the book, holding it in front of you, “was the very first thing I saw. We were in this beautiful country, I saw this store on a small street, and the first thing that came to my mind was how much you would want to go in and wander around. The universe was speaking to me, lune, because as soon as I went in this was there. You know, I thank the universe every single day for bringing us together? You are my inspiration, my muse, my clair de lune, the best gift I have ever received. You are my everything and I do not want to be without you again. I want to marry you. I need to marry you. Will you marry me?”

He hadn’t moved from behind you, talking quietly into your ear as his cheek brushed yours, fingers nimbly holding the gold ring in front of you both as you softly cried as he explained it to you in the most beautiful way that only Josh could do.

You nodded quickly, choking down your cries long enough to answer him. “Yes, of course. Of course, I will,” his smile grew as he took your hand and slid it on your finger, holding your hand out in front of you both.

“Look at that, perfect fit,” you giggled, turning around in his arms, wrapping yourself around him as he did the same to you. “I love you, Josh,” he sighed, a shaky laugh leaving him. “God, I hope so cause you just said you’d marry me and I’m really hoping it isn’t a pity thing.”

Your laugh echoed in the room as he pulled away from you, grabbing the camcorder and setting it on the counter, placing one of the records he had sent you onto the turntable, and turning back around to face you, holding his hand out.

“Come here, clair de lune. Indulge me,” you walked over to him, taking his hand and feeling him pull you to him. You two slowly swayed to the music, foreheads resting against one anothers, eyes shut as he hummed along to the music, the only light from the candles bouncing off the walls.

And so the sun fell in love with the moon.

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