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#the male options for Open Heart were GORGEOUS I am so in love with them. just recycle those for every book you do next and call it a day SIR
delehosies · 2 years
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enchanted
anthony bridgerton x fem reader - word count: 3363. in which anthony bridgerton is enchanted to meet you <3 yes like the taylor song
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anthony bridgerton didn’t intend on marrying for love. it hadn’t been his intention for a long while, not since he had witnessed the misery and despair that his father’s untimely death provoked in his mother. he simply wanted to choose a suitable bride, capable enough of bearing his children and holding somewhat intellectual conversations with him for the short amount of time that he intended on spending with her.
 this is why it was particularly tricky when you entered the picture – gorgeous and confident and intelligent enough to captivate and enchant the oldest bridgerton brother, leaving him practically pining after you. he would overhear your conversations in the ballroom, the scoff that escaped from your lips as your mother introduced you to a truly unsuitable older gentleman in the hopes of marrying you off. you would roll your eyes, and although you forced a stiff smile and kept your tone as polite as possible, there was something in your voice that tended to ward them off, much to your mothers’ dismay. anthony believed that he could capture your attention, make you his wife and live out the rest of your days free of any type of love - certain of the idea that love wasn’t a thing that could just happen to a person, that he would always have some control over his hearts emotions.
and it wasn’t that you didn’t intend on marrying, you certainly didn’t intend on becoming a dreaded spinster, but you couldn’t help but long for something more. your brothers and most of the upper class male world were welcomed into society with open arms, void of responsibility for at least a small portion of their life and encouraged to explore before they finally settled down to wed. for you, it seemed that your options were marriage or … nothing at all. so here you were, at yet another ball, hosted by the bridgerton’s this time, lingering by the refreshments table as to avoid your mother. 
anthony observed you from the other side of the room, standing amongst two out of three of his brothers and sipping his glass of champagne as benedict and colin bickered over something that he considered to be trivial. “wouldn’t you agree with me, brother?” benedict asked, placing his hand onto his older brother’s shoulder. anthony leant away from his touch, rolling his eyes a little at their childish nature, although he secretly wished that he could be as carefree as his other siblings seemed to be - eloise excluded, her disappointment of being a woman clouded her almost constantly. anthony was glad to be free of that. 
“i have decided who i am to marry.” anthony declared, his brothers’ eyes widening at the casual nature of their rakish older brother’s announcement. benedict and colin were lost for words for possibly the first time in their lives, mouths opening and closing as their oldest brother finished his drink and placed it back onto the table. he turned back to them for a moment, raising an eyebrow before focusing his attention back on yourself. they usually weren’t so speechless. 
colin was the first to break the heavy silence that lingered between them, benedict’s mouth still gaping open in dismay “who, brother? who’s the lucky lady? do tell.” colin followed anthony’s gaze back to where you stood, nodding slowly “ah… miss y/n. she’s quite the character.” colin understood why anthony would be so infatuated with you, he noted how strikingly similar your personalities were when the two of you were introduced, colin being the only bridgerton sibling of many that you had met so far. 
anthony’s posture stiffened, clearly somewhat offended that colin had the pleasure of being in your company before he had the chance to meet you. “do you know her?” he questioned, now focusing all of his attention onto his younger brother - who certainly noticed anthony’s discomfort, and… could he even detect a hint of jealousy in his voice?
“we have… been introduced.” colin explained with haste, eyeing up anthony before turning to benedict for some kind of support within the awkward conversation. benedict shifted uncomfortably, a confused look covering his features as he struggled to string together a sentence in a way that wouldn’t offend anthony. 
benedict finally found his words- “you mean to say that you haven’t even been introduced to the lady and you wish to marry h-” benedict did not get the chance to finish asking his question, as his words were cut short by the sharpness off his older brothers’ tongue, anthony failing to acknowledge that benedict’s words had even graced their presence. 
“then it’s settled,” anthony nodded at colin “you shall introduce us.” benedict rolled his eyes, noting how pleased anthony seemed with himself for conducting this master plan.
colin blinked, bewilderment clear as the realisation of anthony’s sudden demands sunk in, all the colour seemed to immediately drain from his face. he had only made your acquaintance because of your mothers, nothing more. “what? now?” 
anthony rolled his eyes at colin’s hesitation “yes, now. make haste.” he had already began to walk purposefully towards miss y/n before colin had even a chance to respond. colin looked to benedict for help, who simply shrugged and nodded for him to catch up with anthony’s long strides. anthony’s confidence oozed from him as he approached you, he did not worry about how he would be perceived despite hearing how blunt you tended to be when conversing with males. no woman had ever turned him down before - why should this be any different? why should you be any different?
“miss y/n.” colin spoke, grabbing your attention. you turned on your heels, offering a little smile to him - who happened to be one of the only tolerable men in the entirety of the ballroom. you noticed his companion, a tall man with the famous brunette bridgerton hairdo which lady whistledown seemed to mention more times than what seemed necessary. his eyes pierced through you, studying your face intently - you felt heat rise into your cheeks and looked back to colin, away from the stare of his brother “have you met my brother? the viscount?” 
the viscount. viscount bridgerton. you shook your head before bowing slightly, forcing another polite smile to cover the anxiety that seemed to flood through you. it was hard not to feel your nerves when a man such as viscount bridgerton was staring at you with such an attentive gaze. “a pleasure, my lord.” you managed to speak without stumbling over your words, and mentally congratulate yourself for achieving such a feat. 
“it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss y/n.” anthony gently took your gloved hand in his, noting how small your hand seemed when the silk covering you pressed against his warm skin. he bowed his head and brought your hand to his face in an agonisingly slow manner, before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the upper side of your hand. you weren’t one hundred percent sure, but it looked as if he breathed in the scent of your soap and perfume as he did so - a pretty floral aroma which anthony decided he just couldn’t get enough of. 
colin cleared his throat, quickly and quietly excusing himself in order to leave y/n to anthony’s devices. anthony wouldn’t have wanted colin loitering around when he was attempting to court a lady anyway. 
anthony carefully dropped your hand from his, and there was a moment of silence between the two of you, before he quickly jumped to fill it with what from his experience was a charming compliment. “may i compliment you on your dress? it is … most exquisite.” anthony questioned, eyes practically drinking in the sight of yourself in the light pink dress, the fabric complimented your skin tone perfectly, your mother having spent hours in the modiste picking out the right fabric and style - sure that it would help you to find a suitor. 
you nodded, peering down at the dress as if you were entirely unaware of what you were wearing. “you may. but you would not be complimenting my taste in garments my lord, for i did not choose it myself.”
your response clearly threw anthony, he was quiet for an instant before he regained his confidence and was capable of mustering a reply. “ah... yet you still wear it so wonderfully.” he was not used to ladies talking so… freely, of course he was used to his argumentative younger sisters but usually a lady’s cheeks would flush pink before she proceeded to babble out a hundred different thank you’s - often throwing compliments at his own attire too. 
“that’s very kind of you to say, my lord. my mother will be most glad to hear it.” you replied, fiddling slightly with the silk gloves. “she insists on choosing my dresses for me – picking the most extravagant features with hopes of marrying me off, you see?” you let out a cynical laugh, the relationship between yourself and your mother had grown even more strained as of late, most likely due to your refusal to pick a suitor even after multiple proposals. you realised that you probably shouldn’t be sharing this information with the viscount, it was definitely considered oversharing, but with his dark eyes fixed on you it was hard to stop nervous words from spilling out.
anthony thought for a second, appearing as if he was truly listening, truly processing all of your words and deciding the most appropriate and thought provoking response. you noted how truly rare this is for a man conversing with a woman, especially one of his status. “hm. and is that such a problem?” 
after taking a moment to think, similar to anthony, you responded. “not a problem, i suppose. i would just rather that she wasn’t so keen to auction me off to the first gentleman who noticed me.” you scoffed quietly, taking your eyes off of the viscount for a moment and allowing yourself to gaze around the room. it didn’t take you long to notice that many were focused on anthony and his choice of conversationalist. you looked back to him, feeling your cheeks warm once again from all of the attention. 
anthony followed your gaze to the sides of the room, though he was certainly more used to stares than yourself. mothers and daughters had been eyeing him up for the entirety of the season after lady whistledown felt it was fit to publish that he was hoping to find a wife. anthony hated the woman - believed her to be a wretched gossip. “i’m sure many gentlemen would notice you… regardless of your garment, i mean to say.” 
you couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes - only playfully, the viscount was yet to say something truly abominable, but there was still plenty of time, men usually can’t get enough of the sound of their own voice. “well, my lord, i wish that they wouldn’t.”
a loud, deep laugh escaped from anthony, filling the ballroom and even making you giggle. colin was right, you definitely were a character. “well, miss y/n, i cannot fault you for that. some men considered to be gentlemen are in fact truly despicable creatures.” even more attendees stare in your direction, some even leaned into the person next to them and made a show of whispering - asking just why the viscount was wasting his time with someone like miss y/n? 
“and i’m quite certain that you’re only saying that to make yourself appear better, my lord.” the two of you joke, smiling and laughing together. many girls watched from the sides of the ballroom - green with jealousy, having been unable to capture the viscount’s attention all season long despite their best efforts. 
“well, i’m offended that you would think so poorly of me.” you talked and laughed for a long while, none of the ladies’ beloved mammas daring to interrupt when viscount bridgerton was clearly so immersed in a conversation.
you cleared your throat, cheeks rosy as you stare up at the viscount’s tall figure, your neck was bound to ache tomorrow from staring up at him for such an extended period of time. “it seems to me that we are the talk of the ballroom.”
anthony raised his head from you, glancing around the ballroom, as if he were completely oblivious to their lingering eyes until you happened to point it out “we are?” he pondered for a moment, pressing his finger to his lip as if he were deep in thought. “well i think we should give them some worthwhile conversation.” anthony held his hand out to you, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards “will you do me the honour of joining me for a dance, miss y/n?” 
usually you hated dancing at balls. you couldn’t bear being trapped in conversation with a vile older man for such an extended period of time, they were more often than not clumsy oafs who trampled your feet and left them bruised for days on end – but viscount bridgerton felt different to you. it wasn’t often that you felt actually listened to and respected by a man, especially not one of his social ranking. 
“certainly, my lord.” a small smile covered your lips as you place your smaller hand in his, his fingers wrapping around you in an instant as his long strides lead you out onto the ballroom dance floor amongst the other couples. people stared, noting how you were the first lady the viscount had asked to dance with all season.  “i do hope that you dance well.”
“exceptionally well, i only hope that you can keep up.” anthony replied, not missing a beat. you take your positions across from one another, both gently bowing your heads as the orchestra began to play a pretty classical piece. music flooded through the ballroom, anthony’s fingers grazing your arm, his other hand lightly placed on your waist. you fought the urge to shiver, the warmth of his skin erupting through the fabric of your garment and sending vibrations down your spine. 
you had to take a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, closing your eyes for a moment as the air filled your lungs – anthony seemed to sense your anxiety, his concerned deep brown eyes fixated on your face. “ignore them. focus on me.” he insisted, his voice soft and gentle as he guided you across the dance floor. he somehow wasn’t aware that your nerves were partly caused by the feeling of his hand against you.
it took a moment for you to calm down, but once you had you felt confident enough to speak, to question and challenge the viscount like you would any other man. “i hear that you are planning to wed this season, my lord.” 
“if i can find a… suitable bride.” anthony nodded, deliberating over his words for a second. he wondered if you were aware of his plans to court you, to wed you if things go as well as he expected them to – he decided that surely you must know. you’re an intelligent woman, and anthony wouldn’t dance with just anyone for the sake of it, he doesn’t act without a reason to do so. you must know that. 
but ah, this was it. the viscount’s fatal flaw – he searches for a suitable bride, not for love. unfortunately, you cannot say that you were surprised. your lips purse slightly, disapproval shifting your features. men of his position can almost always afford to search for love, and then perhaps women wouldn’t be in such a dire position as to marry an inappropriate and totally unsuitable gentleman out of pure and utter desperation. “and do you intend on marrying for love?” you question, although you’re positive that you already know the answer.
“...no, i happen to believe that we have some sort of power over who we love. you need not love a person if you do not wish to – and i do not wish to. i wish to care and…  provide for my wife and for our children. there is a difference between loving and caring.” he spoke as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying, as if he were reciting something memorised long ago.
you felt yourself frown, despite the warmth of the viscount’s hand pressed against you and the dark eyes that watched you with such intensity that you can barely keep yourself upright and breathing. “forgive me for this, but i find that to be quite sad.” you finally admit, watching as anthony’s lips twitch slightly – clearly bothered by your declaration.
“and why is that?” anthony demanded, arrogant venom seeping into his tone of voice. he didn’t mean to get quite so defensive, but he also knew deep down that you were right. daphne and his mother said it to him enough, lecturing him on how wonderful love is each time that he proclaims that his marriage will consist of friendship and children to carry on the bridgerton name. they were both well aware of the shift in anthony’s feelings after the death of his father, they saw how his emotions suddenly switched – their joyful anthony becoming such a closed off boy, full of resentment for the world, and they couldn’t exactly blame him.
“what is the point, if not love?” you questioned anthony further, raising your eyebrows as he struggled to search for an answer to your question. he was silent as the two of you danced in harmony - bodies moving gracefully as anthony delicately guided your twirl until you were closer to him, closer than ever. the dance grew more intimate by the second.
he lowered his voice, leaning so close that his lips practically grazed your ear – the warmth of his breath fanned against your skin, making your eyelashes flutter. “the point is… self preservation, building a family from mutual respect, from friendship. you do not need love.” 
you did not allow yourself to get flustered, or at least you tried not to, by taking a deep breath before the words tumbled from your mouth. “i would argue that love is a type of friendship, my lord. and so i fail to understand your point.” you felt anthony stiffen against you and decide that your words clearly resonated – otherwise why would he be so irritable by your counterargument?
the dance is completed in silence between the two of you, tension rose – your faces only inches away from each other during some moments. your sweet scent taunted anthony, his head full with worries that his plans to wed you would be ruined. he was aware that he could have any lady that he wanted, but he didn’t want any lady. out of all the balls his mother dragged him to he had only ever noticed you. there were other women of course, anthony was a known rake for a reason, but nobody ever captivated his attention in the same way you did. you enchanted him.
anthony felt his heart sink into his stomach as the orchestras instruments quietened, not ready to let go of your body just yet. he immediately noticed how empty his hands felt when he was not holding you, the few minutes of dancing were not enough to satisfy him. you bow politely to each other, his eyes still not leaving you.
“thank you for the dance, miss y/n.” anthony finally broke the quiet air between the two of you, dark eyes fixed with such passion on your own that it felt as if you were the only couple in the ballroom.  “it was… enchanting to meet you... i was enchanted to meet you.” you struggled to find the right words in response, your brain failing to process anthony bridgerton’s declaration until it was too late. “excuse me.” he mumbled quietly, turning quickly on his heels. 
before you could even muster a response, anthony had left – making his way through the crowds to go and consult his far more poetic younger brother for advice on a certain lady. leaving you completely and utterly enchanted to meet him.
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talkfantasytome · 2 years
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New Favorite Crackship
With my current efforts writing "Stay", I'm reminded how annoyed I am at Mor. I'm sure she'll redeem herself or something - or not because SJM may not realize she needs it - but either way, it makes me feel like Mor just doesn't deserve Emerie. I do still believe it's canon, but...well, as with many other things, my headcanon is shifting and has moved on to better things.
That's not to say Emerie doesn't deserve love. No, no...she deserves better love! So, I present to you:
Cresserie
Emerie tipped her head toward the warmth of the bright sun. She'd never felt such heat from anything but a fire before.
"This is paradise," she sighed, laying back against the sand. Her wings were spread out against the ground, happily sunning.
A gentle laugh floated in the air toward her. "I believe that is exactly what I told you when I invited you, six months ago."
"I've been busy." She kept her eyes closed, but she could imagine the way those light brown eyes were likely rolling. "It's a lot of work, building an army while running my own shop."
"All the more reason. Even the best warrior needs to take a break."
Emerie felt her skin begin to buzz as Cresseida lightly trailed a finger up her calf. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she said, "Is that what this is? And here I thought this was a diplomatic trip to discuss creating a Valkyrie unit in Summer."
"Multitask."
Emerie opened her mouth to respond, but instead found herself inhaling sharply as Cresseida's finger reached her inner thigh. Her eyes shot open and fell on that gorgeous face that had been filling her dreams for over half a year.
Her silver hair was in tight, tiny braids, woven into neat rows across her scalp that then fell to her waist. Pale blue strands were plaited within the braids, shimmering in the bright sun. They contrasted perfectly with her dark skin, drawing Emerie in, begging to be twirled around a finger.
She sat up. Her breath caught when she found her face mere inches from Cresseida's, those nimble fingers still dancing against her skin.
"I suppose I could do that," she whispered, breathy and unsure. She could feel her heart thundering within her chest. She'd never been with a female before - she'd never been with anyone before, actually. But Emerie didn't count males as options.
Sitting so close to Cresseida, Emerie was certain she'd never known true terror. A pit sank deep within her gut as a tingling chill spread across her body. What if she was reading this all wrong? What if Cresseida really was just a friend? Maybe she was just into physical contact as a way to show she cares.
She met Cresseida's eyes and could've sworn her heart stopped for a full minute. They were like sun-kissed honey, swimming with promises of sweetness if only Emerie would take a taste.
Cresseida's full lips curved into a sensual smile and Emerie couldn't stop her eyes from flicking to them. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she brought her gaze back to Cresseida's, hoping the movement went unnoticed.
Based on the glimmer in Cresseida's eyes, it didn't.
Her free hand lifted to Emerie's face and Emerie was certain her heart was about to burst through her chest at its current rate and strength. Cresseida brushed her fingers into Emerie's dark locks, tangling them in as she leaned closer.
Emerie's eyes flicked again to Cresseida's lips as they drew close, a spot just inches above Cresseida's other fingers throbbing with an intensity she'd never felt. Sellyn Drake had nothing on Cresseida.
Cresseida paused millimeters from her lips and Emerie thought she might just die. But, she'd been leaning in, too, and she hadn't stopped.
Their lips met, and all thoughts seemed to vanish from her mind.
She could think of nothing but Cresseida's lips against hers. Plush and gentle, a bit tentative, and far sweeter than any honey.
Emerie didn't know what she was doing, she was entirely clueless, but she wasn't frozen. She could never be around Cresseida. Not when this female created in her a heat far beyond what the Summer Court's sun could muster.
Her body took over, a hand moving to rest on Cresseida's hip, her thumb brushing the bare skin just above her swimming bottoms. Emerie had never seen swim attire before. If an Illyrian was going to brave the freezing lakes in the Steppes, they would do so naked.
Emerie wasn't sure she'd prefer that here. The swimming attire was quite revealing on its own, covering only the most private parts of the body, offering a sense of mystery nudity didn't.
Her other hand moved to the nape of Cresseida's neck just as Cresseida brushed her tongue against Emerie's bottom lip.
Emerie gasped, her mouth opening. Apparently, she'd accepted an invitation, because in that moment Cresseida slid her tongue in and Emerie lost it.
She could feel her entire body focused on Cresseida as she pulled the female as close as she could, their chests flush with the other's, their torsos twisted as they sat side by side on the sand. Their tongues danced together, Emerie hoping she wasn't doing this wrong.
Cresseida moaned into her mouth and it was like an avalanche of desire just crashed into her. Emerie's grip on Cressida's hip tightened, as did the one on her neck. She deepened the kiss, her tongue now venturing to explore Cresseida's mouth, to learn every inch of it.
Cresseida nibbled on Emerie's bottom lip, tugging at it softly and in a way that had Emerie whimpering as Cresseida pulled away.
Her lips were barely an inch from Emerie's, and yet she missed them. She missed the taste of Cresseida, the warmth, the feel of those lips on her own. She wanted them back, and to feel them exploring her body further.
Cresseida huffed out a small laugh. "Good. Because I have a lot of plans for us, and none of them involve boring negotiations, grand meeting rooms, or other people."
Emerie smiled gently as they leaned in again and kissed the day away.
--------
Also, big appreciation to @moodymelanist for helping me with some descriptors. 💕
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gucciwins · 3 years
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Three Time
The one where Harry, Atticus, and Y/N celebrate. 
Word Count: 2,988
A/N: Hello friends, this is a little continuation to my story Adore You.  Harry is now a three time grammy nominated artist and i think that is beautiful. This is something short and i really do hope you enjoy it. 
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There is a lot that happened this year that she never saw coming. 
First, a worldwide pandemic that would keep everyone locked indoors and having to wear masks. Secondly, Harry's Love on Tour getting rescheduled to 2021, but even that isn't looking good now. And lastly, being in Los Angeles in November as Harry is filming a movie as the lead male actor. 
Ever since Fine Line was released in December, time seemed to fly by for them.
Harry was overjoyed at how loved Fine Line was by his fans. He was getting support left and right. He was a humble man, never letting it go to his head, always saying he couldn't do it without the help of the people on his team. 
There have been rumors flying around speculating Harry having a girlfriend, a famous songwriter, but they have learned to ignore it. Harry doesn't feel the need to address his relationships because it's theirs. He would love to shout his love for Y/N to the world, but as long as she knows, he's content. 
They celebrated their one year anniversary in Italy for a week before flying back home, they would have stayed longer, but they missed Atticus too much to do that. As soon as they got home, it felt like everything changed. Not between them, but with the world. It was madness to see a lockdown, fear had spiked, but safety was a priority that they took seriously. Meaning they had to take it day by day.
Ever since the worldwide lockdown in March, Harry discussed staying in Los Angeles with Mitch and Sarah for a few months. Atticus was quick to agree, but Y/N really wanted to go home. Harry reminded her it was better to be surrounded by a good group of friends than to be distanced from everyone in London's separate homes. She was quick to agree after. 
Y/N didn't mind it much after; they all always helped each other out. There was also a lot of music playing, as well as creating. Harry said they might just have to get Mitch to release a quarantine album, which got Harry hit in the head with a pillow. 
The one who was taking this the hardest was Atticus, missing Anne and Gemma, who was back in London. He missed going to the park to play, he missed running around free, and honestly, she did as well. They would go hiking and on walks, but it was not as open as before. 
This is why, by June, they returned back home to London, and after a week of quarantine and negative test results, they went on the journey to visit both families. Y/N separated from them to visit her mother and step-dad even though Harry tried to convince her they could go together, but honestly, as much as she loved Anne and had started to see her as a second mother, she really needed a hug from her own. She promised Harry and Atticus she would see them the day after as she was coming to see Anne and they would stay the week with her. 
During this time, Y/n started knitting, something she learned at a young age but would only do when she was stressed. She began teaching Atticus, but he could only keep still for a little bit before he had to run off and do a new activity. She knitted socks, hats, and blankets for their family and friends and shipped them off to them. Y/N even made Atticus and herself the JW Anderson Cardigan. It was a lot of work, but it came out lovely. Harry made them do a little backyard photoshoot because he loved it so much.  
Harry had even surprised her when he told her it would be on the cover of Vogue. She was in shock, but she never stopped hugging him, telling Harry how proud of him she was. The day of the shoot was gorgeous, she had to remind herself to breathe a few times, or she would have passed out. Atticus was in the shoot with Gemma and Harry as they did a family shoot to surprise Anne. Harry kept asking her if she was enjoying it, and honestly, her smile said everything. That she was proud of him, that he was doing fantastic but most importantly, that she loved him. The skirt had a lot of filthy thoughts floating through her head, and she really hoped they'd lend it to Harry if she told him everything she wanted to do with him, specifically her under that skirt touching him. 
Harry had her join for a few photos, Lambert pulling out a surprising look just for her. Harry promised these photos were just for them, even if he wanted to have them put one in just so the world could know how much he loved his family. 
It's November now, and they are in Y/N's Malibu home, which they have been staying at since October. Harry has started filming "Don't Worry Darling," in Olivia Wilde's film. It was surreal when they found out; she couldn't be any prouder. Staying in her home was an easy choice; not many knowing where she lives, only a few friends, and Atticus loves having the beach so close even if it is a little too cold to go in now. 
Y/N and Atticus can't go to set due to safety and regulations, but Harry calls and facetime them every time he gets a break in his trailer. He lets them know he misses them, but he really loves everyone he's working with. That the cast is incredible and kind. Harry would not stop teasing Y/N for her reaction when she saw the wedding ring on his left hand. It made her stop mid-sentence. Husband Harry is something she wishes to one day get because Dad Harry is an angel to his sweet son. 
Harry has recently gone back to filming as it was postponed for two weeks because someone on set came out positive to make up for the lost time they started filming on weekends, which bummed out Atticus. Still, Harry quickly told him it wasn't his choice and that they would watch movies of his options as soon as he was back. Atticus loves Y/N a lot, but he's never going to love anyone more than his dad, even though Atticus does push Harry second sometimes. 
More times than not, Harry will get home and find Y/N and Atticus napping in a new place of the house; the last time was outback in a little tent Y/N set up with fairy lights and had many pillows and blankets to stay warm. Harry was quick to climb in and wrap his arms around Y/N, who quickly woke up due to his cold hands, but he apologized quickly with kisses. She's a sucker for his kisses.
Every moment together is special for them. 
Atticus called her 'Mum' a week ago and ran off, feeling embarrassed would not talk to her all day. Which was hard to do, seeing that they were the only three people in the house. Harry saw how sulky she was and talked with Atticus because neither would tell him what happened. Harry was surprised when Atticus told him what he said, but he was mostly filled with joy and a bit of fear. A fear that she could leave any day and not only would he be left heartbroken but so would his son, but he knows Y/N and the love she has for them. She's here forever, she might not say it, but her actions say enough for her. How she tucks in Atticus to bed with a kiss and an 'I love you.' Asking Anne and her mother on first time parenting tips when she thinks Harry isn't around. How much she cried when he got a scrape on his knee for the time in her care. There isn't anything stopping her from leaving, but she stays because she loves all she has. In the end, Atticus apologized for not speaking with her, and she hugged him and cuddled him all night long. Harry told Atticus that Y/N wasn't his mother, but she loved him like one and that it was okay with him if she called her that. Y/N was fearful of being a mom, but she loved Atticus like her own; even if she hadn't watched and cared for him since he was born, she was here known and would do so for as long as Harry and Atticus let her. 
November 24th, a long-awaited day for artists in the music industry. Harry has to be on set at 11AM today, meaning they will be watching the live stream together. Jeff is with Glenne and is on facetime with Harry. He has his phone perched up against a candle. Harry is sitting in the middle, Atticus to his left and Y/N to his right. He's in sweats and a plain white tee, not needing to be dressed up, seeing as it only is nine in the morning. 
The live stream is an hour-long. Y/N truly forgets how many categories they have until she watches. They woke up at eight am, had pancakes for breakfast, and spoke of their daily plans letting time go by them, allowing them to enjoy breakfast together as they do each morning. 
Atticus can barely sit still, just wanting to hear his daddy's name being called. Harry is surprisingly quiet, just sitting back with his arms crossed as the live stream goes on. Honestly, Y/N is the only one showing emotion. She cheers as she hears HAIM and Phoebe Bridgers get nominated. She itches to grab her phone to shoot them a congratulations message but fears she'll miss something, so she just gives herself a silent reminder to do it after. 
Sharon Osbourne had just begun to say the nominees for Best Comedy Album, and Y/N knows what is coming up soon. She isn't even listening to the nominees, just waiting for her to name the Best Music Video nominees. 
As soon as she says, "Brown Skin Girl, Beyoncé," Y/N feels Harry's hand on her thigh tighten, and she feels for him. His nerves must be out of the roof, but he tries his best not to show it. Y/N shuts her eyes tight, putting her hand over his to let him know she's there for him. 
When she hears the words "Adore You, Harry Styles," she feels her heart speed up. She opens her eyes wide and looks at Harry; his face is blank. Atticus is running circles around the couch, just cheering and yelling nonsense. Jeff and Glenne are cheering from the phone. 
Harry lets out a big smile when he finally meets her eyes. "Adore you did it, angel." She whispers.
He nods. "That's unreal. To hear my name." 
She leans in to give him a quick kiss as they settle back down, ready to listen for the upcoming categories. Megan the Stallion is starting the new section of categories, and Y/N isn't sure how to feel because she won't be able to take it if they don't name Harry again. 
"Best Pop Solo Performance, Watermelon Sugar." This time they all break out into cheers as soon as they hear them call Harry's name after Dua Lipa's. "Watermelon Sugar" had been a hit from the day of its release. Now it has been nominated for a Grammy feels unreal to Harry. Two nominations, he would have never believed it. 
Y/N's buzzing waiting for Megan to announce Best Pop Vocal Album. Harry is now leaning forward, knowing this is another category he could potentially be nominated for. 
"Fine Line Harry Styles" As soon as she hears those words, the tears start running down her face; he did this. His album was nominated. Harry can't stop smiling as Atticus hugs him tight around his neck. He lets out a small chuckle as he sees her tears. He pulls her in, kissing her head repeatedly, smiling at Jeff's congratulations but mostly basking in the joy of three nominations and that he has the opportunity to share it with those he loves. 
Harvey Mason JR. is here once again to announce the general field categories. Harry and Y/N nod along as the names of the nominees are called out. Jeff let out a cheer hearing HAIM nominated for album of the year. Y/N sighs, not hearing Harry being nominated but continues ready to hear Adore You for record of the year. Only it doesn't happen. Harvey Mason JR. bids everyone goodbye, and just like that, it's over. 
Jeff breaks the silence, congratulating Harry before hanging up. Harry sits back with Atticus in his lap, a big smile on his face. 
Harry is happy. Extremely happy, this has always been a dream of his, one he never knew would come true. 
His second album got him three Grammy nominations. Atticus has no clue what these awards mean, but he's happy just seeing Harry and Y/N happy.  Atticus climbs off Harry's lap, kissing Harry and Y/N's cheek, saying he's going to his room now. 
Harry turns to look at Y/N, and the smile she had has now left her face, and now she sits there, lost in thought. This worries Harry; she was fine moments ago. He's got to go soon, so he needs to figure this out now. 
"Honey, you alright?" Harry places his hand on her thigh, and she looks at him, nodding. 
"Fine." She kisses his cheek. "Really happy for you." 
Harry knows she is, but there's something else. "Spill." 
She sighs, knowing nothing gets past him. "You weren't named for any general category. I'm proud of the three you got, but I was sure you would be at least nominated for record of the year." Awards don't mean much to Y/N anymore, but she knows how important this is for Harry. "I'm sorry, ruining your mood." 
"You didn't. Thank you for caring so much." His smile is sincere, and she knows he wouldn't lie to her. 
"It's okay," Harry tells her, wanting her to repeat it with him.
"But Harry," He puts his hands on her cheeks to get her to stop and look at him. 
"Honey, it's okay. Three nominations are amazing, and I couldn't be happier." 
"I know," She deflates. "3-time Grammy Nominated Artist Harry Styles has a nice ring to it." She smirks, noting the blush on his cheek. 
"Dork." He leans in to kiss her nose. 
"Fine Line is still my favorite album, you know, from everything released, named number one." 
"You're just saying that." 
Y/N shakes her head no, "Of course not. Yours is the one album I had on repeat the most. My Spotify wrapped will prove just that." 
Harry snorts, "You're too much." 
He pulls her in to lay on his chest, her arms snake around his waist. They hold each other tight. 
"I'm proud of you," Harry whispers in her ear. 
Y.N leans back, but Harry's hold is tight. "I did nothing; you just got nominated. For your second album, you deserve all the praise today." 
"Honey, will you let me continue." Harry laughs. 
"Sorry, H." 
"I'm proud of you because, without you, this album would have never been finished. I would have never had the inspiration to finish Adore You. Would have never had the idea to make a fake island and promote it without ever adding my name to it. I would have never thought to film using a CGI fish, as my friend in the story. I would have never had the released "Lights Up," the song that started this new era for me but most importantly, I would have never found love. A love that is bigger than me that fills me with so much joy. A love that leaves me scared. A love that will forever keep on growing." Harry smiles as he wipes away her tears. 
Harry loves Y/N with all he has. This album was his, but it was also hers. It's what truly brought them together. 
"You made me cry, you jerk." She says, laying her head in the crook of his neck.
Harry laughs. "I just poured my heart out to you, and I'm the jerk." 
"I love you." Harry grins. That's all he wants to hear. "I'll love you, today, tomorrow, forever for as long as you let me. 
Harry can't contain his happiness and needs to show her. He connects their lips. It's a hard, fast kiss full of passion. They pull away because their smiles don't let them continue much. 
"You've got to go." Y/N reminds him as he continues to press kisses all over her face and neck. 
Harry settles down, smiling down at her. "I know." She leans forward, kissing him quickly. "We'll celebrate more when I get home tonight." 
"Three nominations, wow!" Y/N says, standing up. "We're in for a long celebration once we get Atticus down to sleep." She wags her eyebrows at him.
Harry very quickly gets the hint. "I can't wait, honey." 
Atticus comes bouncing down the steps giving his dad a kiss goodbye, walking him to the door, barefoot. Y/N follows Harry, giving her one last kiss goodbye as he walks to his car. 
As he gets in and pulls out of the driveway, he sees Y/N and Atticus waving goodbye to him. Harry has a big smile on his face that no one can see. He's thankful to now be a 3-time Grammy-nominated artist, but what he is most grateful for is getting to be the person who gets to love Y/N and Atticus forever.
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Thank you for reading! This was just a small little piece for a beloved piece I wrote. If inspiration strikes, I shall be revisiting this story. 
Please let me know what you thought!
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Gym
So this is my first fanfic ever...Thanks for @fanficlover91 for encourage me and also be my beta. All I can hope now is that you like it.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x you
Warnings: fluff, light smut, body issues
Your need to work out again grew bigger everyday. You weren't someone who constantly visits the gym but lately you had some body issues that cant be ignored any longer. You had a hard time left behind you and just moved to London a few weeks ago. Thanks to your new job at a popular marketing agency you were able to afford a small but fancy apartment in Kensington.
You loved your new home and job but what you didn't love was the fact that all your new workmates were super hot model size zero types and you just disappeared in between them when you went out at a club or a bar. Even if you knew that you would never be a size zero it bothered you and you wanted to feel comfortable again. And you wanted to be seen... you needed a rebound desperately. Your last relationship didn't end well and your nightmare of an Ex was one of the reasons for your body issues. In the last months of your time together he barely touched or kissed you. It didn't take long for you to find out why... he cheated on you with one of his fitness trainers in his gym. (of course one of those super hot model size zero types) as soon as you knew what was going on you ended up any relation to him and moved in with your best friend. But that wasn't enough, you needed a total restart. And so you ended up in a new country with a new job ready to start over again. So here you are now, in front of the gym you choose... your were really happy that they offered early opening hours because you didn't want to train next to a fitness bombshell with some super tiny sports bra and the tightest leggings on the planet. As you stepped in one of the training rooms you were relieved, no one was there. Due to the early hour you had all the training stuff for yourself so you opted to start with a warm up on the treadmill. You put your earplugs in and started to run. 10 Minutes in and you were already starting to sweat as you recognized a man coming into the room. Obviously he was a constant gym visitor because his muscles were clear to be seen beneath his sweatshirt and his shorts. His bulky form was definitely easy on the eyes and with no doubt he knew who handsome he is because he exuded some sort of big dick energy. He sat down on one of the benches and started to unpack his bag. You tried to go on with your warm up and pretend that you didn't saw him but eventually he looked up to you and your eyes met.
Your heart started to race as you looked into the blue orbs of his, your mind started to spin and your coordination didn't work anymore... right in front of you stood no one else than Henry Cavill, the Man of Steel, Geralt of Rivia and the protagonist of your nightly wet dreams. You couldn't really process that and so your feet start to stumble and you lost your balance on the treadmill. You just closed you eyes and waited for the impact on the ground. And two seconds later you felt the pain in your ass and the back of your head. Great you thought what a nice first impression. As you opened your eyes again you saw the blue orbs right above you “Hey are you ok?” Henry asked. “Ahm yes I think...its ok. I was just …. a … little... distracted.” you mumbled. He smirked down at you and reached out his hand for you. You took it and he easily lifted you up but your head started spinning again. Before you could loose your balance Henry pulled you in his arms “Easy there. It seems you have hit your head quite nicely” he chuckled. You blushed instantly and tried to move away from him but he gripped you tightly. “I think you need to sit down and drink something” he gestured to the bench nearby “I am Henry by the way” he said “Ah yes hi, I am Y/N... its nice to meet you” you groaned. You were totally embarrassed. Yes you knew that Henry Cavill lived in Kensington but out of all options you could imagine to meet him, falling down on a treadmill wasn't one of them but unfortunately the most ungraceful appearance that you could make. Great, just great. I meet my biggest celebrity crush and make a fool out of myself immediately. “Normally I am alone in here at this time of the day” Henry ripped you out of your thoughts “Are you new here?” “Yes its actually my first day of training today and as you can see I am nowhere near as fit as you are” the words spill out of you without thinking about what you said. Henry chuckled “Well everyone needs to start at some point. And as long as you have a plan how to train everything is alright” You snorted “That is exactly the problem, because to be honest I don't have a plan. I just had a bad feeling because of my workmates...” you started to explain. Y/N what are you doing here... Henry Cavill certainly does not want to know your pathetic backstory you scolded yourself “Whats wrong with your workmates” he asked. “Oh ahmm... nothing and I really don't want to steal your training time away Mr. Cavill” Oh fuck, have I said Mr. Cavill...Shit now he knows that I know him... “Sorry... I didn't want to be bold... It must be annoying to be recognized everywhere and... “ “Hey Hey its totally fine... that's a public gym and I am aware that I can be recognized so please stop apologizing” he stopped you. “And you don't steal my time... So please tell me whats up with your workmates.” You closed your eyes and shook your head. “They...They are all super hot model size zero types and I just disappear in between them... so no one ever sees me” You started to explain. “I really wanted to be seen and start a new life here in London with new friends and some male attention... but obviously everyone just sees the ugly wing woman in me...” “Hey look at me” he gripped your chin in his hands and as you opened you eyes you saw him look over you from head to toe “All I can see is the most gorgeous woman I met in quite a long time. With curves in all the right places and the most beautiful eyes I have seen in my entire life” he whispered. You turned crimson red instantly at his words and tried to look away. “Don't be look away. There is no need to be shy. I mean every word I said.” “But...But there is no way... I mean you are... you and I am just an ordinary woman... “ he silenced you with his lips on yours. Holy Shit I must hit my head quite badly this can't be reality... you went stiff at the touch of his lips and he stepped back immediately. “I am sorry... I … oh gosh... that's so not me, normally I don't do that...but your eyes...your lips...you bewitched me” he stuttered. You started to smile shyly because you never you would have thought that you can make Henry Cavill stumble across his own words because of your appearance. You reached out and touched his yaw. “Its fine I was just surprised...” you leaned in again and pressed your lips on his. Now it was his part to be surprised but after the initial shock he moaned into the touch of your lips. He felt heavenly against you and soon the soft and tender kiss grew more passionate and he searched for entrance with his tongue. You parted your lips slightly and he invaded your silky mouth. Oh god this is really happening, I am kissing Henry Cavill and god is he a good kisser, I am curious if his tongue feels this good everywhere... Obviously you weren't the only one who liked the kiss because Henry gripped your waist and put you into his lap effortlessly. You cant help yourself and started to grind on him and he let out a heavy grunt which was by far the sexiest sound you have heard in your whole life. After several more minutes of making out you felt your arousal start to pool in your panties and shifted uncomfortable, trying to get away a bit but Henry gripped you even tighter. That's when you recognized your effect on him... a heavy boner peaked into your groin and you opened your eyes wide in amazement. In need for air you broke the kiss and looked at him with big eyes “Y/N look what your amazing body does to me” he said totally out of breath. “Feel it” he took you hand and pressed it against his bulge “Oh” you whispered. He leans in against you and whispers in your ear “Please come home with me... I want to worship that goddess of you properly”
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qianinterprises · 3 years
Text
Smoke Detector
Pairing: Taeyong x Reader
Warnings: burnt food, tears, self-doubt
Scenario 1) when they (you) mess up cooking dinner for the first time.
Summary: you want to make dinner for Taeyong on your anniversary, but to do so requires help from the fourth best chef in NCT. Unfortunately, that isn't enough to stop disaster.
Genre: fluff, minor angst
Author's Notes: I am participating in the ficscafe scenario event! You may be seeing a few of these pop up as I am super excited to write these scenarios! Also, I apologize if this is kinda sucky. I wrote it in one sitting because I just had SO much inspiration, but there's a very good chance that this isn't very good.
Word Count: 2.6k
Tag List: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon
For as long as you could remember, you'd never learned how to properly put on a meal. Sure, you could make ramen in the microwave or throw together a sandwich, but anything involving more technical skills and you were screwed. For that reason, you never offered to cook for your boyfriend, which admittedly made you feel inadequate, but he was so an amazing chef that admitting your lack of skills was embarrassing to say the least.
Taeyong had no idea you had very little talent in the kitchen. You never told him about the time you nearly burnt down your mother's kitchen trying to make tacos or the time you forgot your scones in the oven until they were black as coal and hard as stones.
Taeyong's cooking skills were perfect. He could whip nothing into the most delectable meal you'd ever tasted. And that was daunting.
He should be with someone who he could partner with. Someone who could share the responsibility of the kitchen because you knew, when Taeyong got home after allday of schedules, the last thing he wanted to do was cook. But he did so anyway (unless you'd convinced him to get takeout). He never complained. Never questioned why you didn't cook for him. Never gave you anything but a happy smile and a soft peck on the lips.
Lee Taeyong was just too perfect. So perfect in fact that today, on the morning of your two year anniversary, he had taken the morning off and instead, bounced around in the kitchen cooking up all your favorite breakfast foods before surprising you in bed with them. He had roused you awake and placed the tray on your lap before crawling back in bed beside you and kissing your lips.
“Happy anniversary my love,” he had whispered against your lips.
The morning had been spent enjoying his well-crafted breakfast with sleepy cuddles and a slow, sensual, naked dance beneath the sheets before he had to peel himself away with a promise that he would be home in time to make dinner.
With that, he had left, and you spent the rest of the afternoon fretting. Taeyong had made breakfast. A breakfast that didn't consist of cheerios or toast. He had taken the time to use his morning to whip up a breakfast fit for a king. And now he was planning on two meals in one day!
Your stomach churned uncomfortably, fear gripping your heart. One day, Lee Taeyong would realize that he was too good for you, and then he’d be gone. Off to find someone better for him. Someone like Doyoung, who he could cook with without supervision. Or maybe even someone like Johnny, bigger than him, that could hold him tight and ease away all of his worries.
You were useless. At least, that’s what your subconsciousness whispered in the back of your head.
~
As two pm rolled around, you were tired of moping. Taeyong deserved someone better. So you would become better. That would just require a little bit (a lot) of help from someone who knew their way around the kitchen.
The first person you contacted was Kun, but when he didn’t respond, Doyoung became the next best thing. Quickly, you sent the male a quick text because you had no idea who Taeyong was scheduled with today.
‘Do you have 127 schedules today?’
Doyoung didn’t take long to text back.
‘Yeah, why?’
Always one to get to the point. But you liked that about Doyoung.
‘Just curious, wasn’t sure who Taeyong was scheduled with today.’
You huffed. The simplest choice went out the window. Had Doyoung been free, you would have invited the male over and had him help you cook a gorgeous dinner. Although part of you was glad you had to go with plan b. Plan b wouldn’t get irritated and yell at you quite as easily as Doyoung would.
‘How’s my favorite Dreamie?’ you sent, hoping Dreams schedules were clear that day because you were running out of options.
‘Jeno’s doing fine? Why?’
‘I’m not talking about Jeno, you nincompoop!’
These boys were going to be the death of you one of these days.
‘Haha, I know, what’s up? What do you need?’
‘Why do you assume I need something?’
‘-.-’
‘Fine. I need your help cooking dinner for Taeyong!’
It took the boy longer to respond and you assumed his answer was no when your phone began to ring. When you answered, he didn’t even give you time for a proper greeting.
“Why do you need my help?” Jaemin asked.
You let out a huff. None of the boys knew your dirty little secret, but you knew Jaemin (or Doyoung for that matter) would help you without an explanation.
“Because I can’t cook to save my life! And he cooks all the time! And I just want our anniversary to be special! Will you help me or not?!”
“How are you dating Taeyong hyung without knowing how to cook?!”
“Jaemin!” you whined, red creeping up to your cheeks.
He let out a breathy laugh.
“I can’t come over. Our managers gave us the next few days off and Renjun and Jeno have barricaded us all in here, but I can help you over the phone!”
Not exactly what you had in mind, but with Jaemin helping you, what could possibly go wrong?
~
Later on that evening after deciding to make something relatively simple for Taeyong, Jaemin helps you create a grocery list and sends you on your way. Grocery shopping was the easy part. You were exceptionally good at shopping. It was when you got back home that your hands began to clam up as you stood in the center of the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen.
Your phone rang in your pocket as you were shakily pulling a pan out, placing it on the stove. You fished out your phone and answered, Jaemin’s face popping onto your screen.
“Ready to get cooking?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across your face.
“I’m nervous,” you mumbled.
“Oh come on! You’ve got me here to guide you! It’ll be great!” you promised.
Hopefully, he was right.
“Ok so the first thing you need to do is heat up the pan over the stove. While that’s heating, start chopping the vegetables. Just be careful!”
Nodding, you turned on the stove. When nothing happened to sabotage you this early in the game, you let out a sigh of relief and set out chopping all of the vegetables that you’d bought, preparing a hearty, healthy, but tasty dish for the man that never ceased to give you everything you desired.
“Ok, now get the meat out of the fridge and put it in the pan.”
Nodding to him, you slid on a pair of rubber gloves and pulled the hamburger meat out of the refrigerator. Ripping open the packaging, you dumped the red meat into the now sizzling frying pan and let out a small sound of joy when you succeeded in not making too big of a mess.
“Great now-” there was a knock over the line and Jaemin’s attention turned from you to the door.
“What?” he asked.
“We’re going out to the sports bar down the road. Wanna come?” Jeno’s voice asked in the background.
Jaemin let out a whine in the back of his throat.
“I promised (y/n) noona that I’d help her make dinner for Taeyong hyung.”
“Sucks to be you!” the door slammed and Jaemin turned back to you looking like a kicked puppy.
Your heart clenched. Not only did you have to elicit Jaemin’s help in the first place, but now you were keeping him from spending time with his friends and having fun.
“Explain to me everything that I need to do and go,” you offered.
His face lit up immediately and he opened his mouth to speak before freezing.
“But I promised…”
“Jaemin, it’s not that big of a deal! I’ve got this,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice wavered at the doubt creeping into your soul.
“Ok so…” and he rattled off instructions, letting you write them down.
“Now are you sure you can do this?” he asked.
You nodded even though you were positive you couldn’t do this.
“Ok! Good luck! And Taeyong hyung is going to love it!”
With that, the call ended and you were left alone with a pan of rapidly browning hamburger meat and a pot of boiling water.
“Ok (y/n), you got this,” you whispered to yourself.
~
You didn’t have this. In no way, shape, or form did you have this!
The meat browned too quickly, and while you were trying to get it off the heat, the pot of water boiled over, sizzling and fizzing on the burner You slightly burned your hand in a rush trying to get the lid off of the pot of noodles, but while you were fighting with it, the smoke alarm went off, blaring loudly through the house. Frantically, you trembled as you tried to quiet down the alarm before you realized why it was going off.
The meat had become a dark brown lump emitting thick black smoke that pillowed toward the ceiling. With a little screech, you grabbed the pan of meat and hurled it into the empty sink, rapidly turning the water on and letting it spill over the now ruined meat as you turned back to turn off the stove. However, before you could, the water was boiling over the sides again.
By the time you got the water in the pot to settle, your hair was a mess atop your head and tears had gathered into your eyes at the mess of a kitchen. Water was still running over the burned black meat. The noodles in the pot had secured themselves to the bottom of the pot, refusing the budge, and the vegetables you’d put in the oven to roast had gotten done while everything else had gone wrong. Now they sat on top of the stove crispy with an aftertaste of coal.
Dinner was ruined. But perhaps you’d still have time to order takeout before-
You heard his keys jiggle in the door and your heart dropped to your stomach. Not only had you not succeeded in making one simple meal, but Taeyong was going to see just how awful you were in the kitchen.
You sank to your knees on the floor, leaning against the cabinets under the sink and drawing your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the tears flowed easily now.
“Honey! I’m ho-”
The first thing Taeyong noticed was the smell. The bitter, burnt scent of burning food making his nose crinkle in distaste.
“Babe?” he asked, stepping further into your shared apartment, closer to the kitchen where the smell was coming from.
When he entered, the sight broke his heart.
You were trembling on sobs below the sink, quiet whimpers leaving your lips that only got worse as he moved closer to you. Water was running over a pan of burnt something in the sink and the pot on the stove was scorched. The vegetables on the over pan looked like shriveled prunes.
Slowly, so as not to make you more upset, Taeyong made his way over to the stove and quickly switched off the two burners and the over, all of which you must have forgotten to turn off.
When the stove was handled, Taeyong took another look around the kitchen. Your phone was sitting on the counter by the stove, a piece of paper with hastily scratched instructions beside it. There was an old sweater hanging over the back of the table chair that you must have used to calm the smoke detector that was now dangling from the ceiling by a single wire. The refrigerator was slightly ajar and making a small dinging noise until he pushed it closed. You were crumpled on the floor in the center of all of the chaos, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.
With a small sigh, Taeyong moved closer to you. He leaned over you to switch off the water pouring onto the burnt pan before lowering himself to the floor and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Baby, did you try to cook for me?” he whispered.
He already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear a response from you. When you only nodded, another whimper leaving your lips, he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss on your head.
“Why baby? I told you I was going to cook.”
“You cooked breakfast,” you mumbled.
“So?”
By now he was very confused. You never offered to cook. He just assumed you didn’t like to or couldn’t, which seemed to be the case.
“You deserve someone who can cook for you,” you muttered. “You always have to cook and I’m just useless not being able to.”
Taeyong was left speechless for a solid 30 seconds before he was pulling you into his lap, carefully spinning you around to face him.
“You are not useless. Baby, you give me warm hugs and kisses when I get home. You let me be the little spoon some nights when I’m exhausted. You draw baths for me and hold me while I relax. You are anything but useless. You do so much for me that I enjoy cooking for us when I get home. Even when I’m tired I love it. I love seeing your face light up when you taste something you like or watching you bounce in your seat over your favorite foods. I don’t get to take care of you half as much as you take care of me. Let me cook for you baby. I love it,” he said, letting his thumbs gently stroke over your face as he wiped away your tears.
Your glassy eyes looked up to meet his and he was drawing you closer, planting a soft kiss on your water lips.
“I love you baby. And I promise, just because you can’t cook doesn’t make me love you any less,” he said, kissing your forehead.
You nodded and dove into him, letting your head rest against his neck, holding onto him as warmth washed over you.
“I love you too,” you muttered, finally feeling relaxed after hours of stress that came with cooking.
“Who gave you those instructions on the counter? Did they not offer to help you?”
“Jaemin. Kun was busy. Doyoung was with you. I obviously wasn’t about to call you, so Jaemin helped me, but halfway through he had to go.”
Taeyong nodded and peppered kisses along your cheeks.
“How about we get dressed and go to the dinner where we had our first date? Then tomorrow, we’ll spend the whole day together. I might even help you learn how to cook!”
“You have tomorrow off?!”
“Mhm,” Taeyong cooed.
You jumped off his lap excitedly.
“That sounds perfect!” you grinned, dashing off to your shared bedroom to put on something other than sweats.
Laughing, Taeyong stood up and surveyed the kitchen once again.
You had the capabilities of cooking. That much was clear by the seasonings and well-chopped vegetables. Stress and distractions were your issues. And that, he could help you with.
With a smile, he made his way to the bedroom.
It didn't matter if you could cook or not. What mattered was that you were his. And if the ring tucked away in his pocket was any indication, he planned on making you his forever.
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Text
Work of Art (Diego Hargreeves x Reader, Kinktober
A/N: Rather than try and finish 2 more fics this week, as would be necessary to finish the original Kinktober list I posted, I played a little shuffle, and combined the two remaining ones, tossed some stuff, added new stuff. Because frankly I’m running out of steam[iness], though really, this is further than I ever expected to get on this project. Anyway...the final fic. Hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2440 Kinktober Prompts: bondage, knife-play, marking Rating: E(xplicit) Content Warnings: dom/sub (dom reader), bondage, knife-play, marking kink, pain kink, begging, teasing, praise kink, oral (both male and female receiving), biting, blood, overstimulation Cross-posted to AO3 here.
“Stop squirming so much,” you laughed, dropping the soft cotton rope to start over. “You’d think I was torturing you or something.”
“You’re sitting there, dressed like that, looking that gorgeous, and not letting me touch you,” Diego pointed out. “Find me the part that isn’t torture.”
You rolled your eyes, finally securing the last knot to keep Diego exactly where you wanted him, despite his continued wriggling.
“Unless you want actual torture, stop complaining.”
“Actual torture? You couldn’t if you tried.”
You raised a challenging eyebrow and smirked. He swallowed, instantly regretting his words. 
“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I just…” you walked over to the bedroom door, pausing dramatically in the doorway to look back at him. “Left you there then?”
“Wait, no, Y/N,” he called after you, voice straining with ill-concealed desperation. “Please. I promise I’ll behave.”
You waited a few beats longer, until you heard his faint whine, pleading for you, before you returned to the bedroom, satisfied that he knew your threat was serious. When you returned, he gave you his best penitent expression, which was admittedly, just a little bit ruined by the way his eyes trailed hungrily over your figure in the lacy, nearly see-through negligee you wore when he thought you wouldn’t notice.
“I could do whatever I want to you like this,” you observe off-handedly, still standing near the end of the bed, studying his bound form. 
He wasn’t completely immobile, though you had originally tried to convince him to let you trap him in that way. But he was tied enough that he wouldn’t be going anywhere or able to pull his usual stunts to try to take control. And he looked so pretty: stretched out on the bed, hands bound above him with just enough slack to be able to twist and grab the thin wrought-iron rails supporting him, another thin set of ropes wrapped around his waist and secured to the underside of the bed. If you were being honest, it was a bit like the damsel tied to a railroad track in an old silent movie, but it was a look that worked for him, especially the way the blue ropes stood out against his skin. 
“And you’d like that wouldn’t you,” you purred, taking a few steps closer. “You like to act tough but really, you’re just craving to be used and controlled. Isn’t that right baby?”
His cock twitched at your words and you couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the visual evidence of your effect on him. He nodded in answer to your question, even as he strained against his binds. You stopped, waiting expectantly for him to use his words. It had taken a long time to convince him to let his guard down and be vulnerable like this, and you wanted to be sure that he was both capable and willing to bring it to a stop if he needed to.
“Yes,” he finally panted. “Please, use me, do whatever you want to me. Please, Y/N.”
“You look so good like this, like a work of art. What would you do if I decided I wanted to just sit here,” you plopped yourself down on a stool in the corner and folded one leg over your knee, leaning forward so you could still see his face. “And admire the art?”
He shook his head. “No, please, please touch me, hurt me, fuck me. Do anything, just please, do something.”
“You’re so right.” You stood again, sauntering to the edge of the bed and staring down into his face, gently running your nails down the side of his face, swiping them across his lips, drawing back harshly enough that they caught when he tried to suck a thumb into his mouth.
“My pretty boy.” He shivered bodily, as much as the ropes would allow, at your words, throwing his head back against the pillow.
“Do you like that? Being called pretty or being called mine.”
His face flushed and you repressed a giggle.
“Both,” he admitted shyly. 
“Do you want me to keep doing it?”
“Please?”
“Of course, my pretty boy, all mine, all laid out and gorgeous for me.” A dangerous glint crossed your eyes as he tried to buck upward, a bead of pre-cum welling from your words alone. 
“Maybe, I should make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Make it clear that they can look,” you ran your fingertips down his sternum, “but they can’t touch. Would you like that?”
You suspected that by the end of the night, he would grow tired of your prompting. And yet, if he paid attention, he would see that through this, he had more control than he ever did otherwise. 
“Yes, Y/N. Claim me.” There was a hint of frustration and desperation in his voice, and you decided not to push him any further before giving in. 
Slowly, making sure his eyes were trained on you the whole time, not that he had dared to look away for a second so far, you straddled him, just above where the ropes crossed his mid-section, moving at a pace that made tectonic plates look like speedboats. 
Settling comfortably, you leaned down, pressing your body against his, only the gauzy layer of your dress separating you. You let your breath ghost over him, teasing at the sensitive spots behind his ear and beneath his jaw. And then, sure that he wouldn’t be expecting it, you dipped your head lower and bit down harshly on the soft spot where throat met clavicle. Diego cried out, thrashing under you but unable to move, and just as importantly, not seeming like he was actually trying to get away from you. You felt the slightest hint of blood welling up and laved your tongue over the spot, soothing the worst of the sting but maintaining enough pressure to draw the blood toward the surface, ensuring a heavy, dark spot would be left behind.
“Mm,” you purred, pulling back to look at his face once more, the blissed out look on his face sending a jolt to your core. “You mark up so well for me Diego, but I don’t know if that little spot’s going to be enough.”
He gulped nervously. “Will you leave another?”
“I had a better idea, if you trust me…” you forced him to meet your gaze. 
“Absolutely.” It was the firmest his voice had been since you began. 
Hesitantly, you reached over to the nightstand, picking up one of the tiny precision blades that he used sometimes, though never in this way obviously. Palming it, you held it up for him to see. His eyes widened. 
“I promise, I won’t hurt you, not really,” you explained, dropping any act or pretense. “Lightest touch only. Just enough to leave a mark that will heal over without a trace. Or I can put this away. It’s up to you.”
His eyes flickered back and forth from the knife to your face. 
“Do it,” he said, voice gruff with desire. The muscles of your cunt clenched and fluttered at the sound, but you tried to ignore the feelings and focus on him. “...please?”
You kissed him passionately, trying to pour into it all of the thousand feelings coursing through you: how badly you wanted him, how much you loved him, how grateful you were that he trusted you like this. 
You rocked backwards, letting your ass brush teasingly against his straining erection as you inspected your canvas.
“Now, my pretty boy,” you taunted, “where shall I make my mark. There are so many options…”
You trailed the flat of the little blade along the column of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob, dangerously close to the point. You traced outward, first over one side of his collarbone and then the other and then down over the taut muscles of his chest. He hissed as you turned the blade so that the needle-sharp point was against his flesh as you traced circles around his nipples with just enough pressure to create a sting. Finally, you stopped, poised just above his heart.
“Shall I write my name right here?” you asked, “label your heart and lay my claim to it.”
“It’s yours,” he countered, “already yours.”
“Well then, let’s make it official.” 
You turned the blade again so that the full edge was pressed his exposed skin, biting your lip as you watched the little specks of red well up in the shape of your initials, tracing over them once, twice, thrice. He moaned louder with each pass, high and needy and threatening to overwhelm you, but he held himself perfectly still, one wrong move potentially spelling his end. You admired the endurance and discipline it required almost as much as you admired the patterns of pain you were tracing around the letters now, little hearts and swirling shapes. You followed behind the knife with open-mouthed kisses, as you wanted him to experience the sting and ache at the same time as you wanted to draw them away and spare him any suffering.
“Please,” he breathed. “Please, haven’t I been good?”
You looked up, a little startled at the question. 
“Of course you’ve been good. You’ve been so good. Perfect, obedient, beautiful. You’ve been all those things Diego,” you assured him. 
“Then please, I can’t take anymore. Please stop teasing me, no more games.”
You frowned. It wasn’t the safeword you had agreed to, but maybe…
“Please, don’t I deserve a reward?”
Oh.
“Of course you do baby. Do you want to cum now?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“No?” you startled. 
“No. I don’t want to cum yet. Not until I taste you. I know you’re wet, I know you. I want that sweet little pussy all over my face.”
“Well who am I to refuse you whatever your heart desires?” You said, eyes sparkling with mirth before you rose up on your hands and knees, crawling over him until you were poised, hovering just out of reach of his tongue, which was already darting out to run across his lips. 
His hands strained at the ropes, and you knew that if his hands were free, something you could have given him with a few flicks of the little knife if you wanted to, they would be gripping your hips with bruising strength and holding you down while he pleasured you. You closed your eyes, letting the image dance across your eyelids while you sank down. 
Diego’s tongue flicked through your folds, tasting your gathered wetness. The groan that followed vibrated up through you, and it took all of your willpower, and the sharp bite of your nails into the palm of one hand, the other braced on the headboard, parallel to Diego’s own arms, not to break from that sensation alone. He sucked hard on your sensitive clit and you keened, grinding down on his face just as he moved his attention, tongue diving into you. You continued to move, hips bucking in rhythm with the thrust and flick of the wet muscle inside you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and then in a primal scream as he flicked and sucked at your clit again, alternating back and forth faster than you could keep track of. He answered each sound you made with one of his own, groans and moans and hums mixing with his clever mouth to drive you over the edge, and then again without warning as he refused to let up. 
“Oh fuck!” you cried out, “Fuck, Diego, yes! You make me feel so good baby!”
As a third orgasm tore through you, you pulled from him, trembling in the aftershocks as you tried to catch your breath.
“That was so good baby,” you panted. “You always know how to make me feel so good. But now it’s your turn.”
You slowly slunk down the bed, trailing kisses and little nips along his skin until you reached your destination. Looking up to check on him, and because you knew how much he loved the sight of you making eye-contact as you sucked him off, you wrapped your lips around his dick and slowly lowered your mouth onto it, taking him as deep as you could until he bumped at the back of your throat and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Curling your hand around the base of him, the other bracing yourself against his thigh, you set an unstable pattern, working him rapidly, twisting your fingers and bobbing your head up and down only to suddenly slow, so that you were all but still, holding him in your mouth and the length of his cock with your tongue and then resuming your motions, trying to keep him on his toes. He bucked his hips as far as the ropes would allow him, trying to match your patterns with thrusts of his own, and crying out your name over and over. 
“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m so close. I’m so fucking close.”
You squeezed gently on the base of his cock at the same you hollowed out your cheeks, taking him as deep as you could and he came with a feral growl, his cum filling your mouth, hot and salty and you swallowed down as much of it as you could, fighting the urge to gag. 
Slowly, you slid him out of your mouth and stood. Your own fluids were rapidly cooling on the insides of your thighs as you made your way shakily to the bathroom for some warm cloths to clean you both up.
As you returned to Diego’s side, you noticed the way he shivered and sweat. Concerned, you quickly slit the ropes, freeing him to curl in on himself.
“Diego, baby?” you asked softly, stroking the damp fabric over his skin soothingly. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding hoarse and slightly out of breath. “That was just a lot…”
“Too much?” 
“No. No,” he shook his head, reaching around to grab one of your hands in his. “It was perfect, I’m just…I’ll be fine.”
You bit your lip, not sure if you believed him and concerned that you’d gone too far, all in the name of showing him how amazing he was.
“How can I help?” you asked, wanting to follow his lead and speed his recovery.
“Just, hold me, please.”
“Let me finish cleaning us both up, and then I can definitely do that,” you said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Diego.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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sakuratragedy · 3 years
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Emperors Consort | Chapter 2
Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Zhongli / Childe, #Zhongchi Tags: R18, A/B/O Dynamics, Royalty AU Summary: aka "Emperor's consort doesn't know the difference between being a concubine and being a consort" Tsaritsa wants her child to have a good life after serving her on the battlefield for so long, so she makes a deal with an old friend. In exchange for her military might, he will marry her son. Childe who has no formal omega training has to do his best to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. Do your best to be a good omega Childe!
He remembers the familiar ache in his back and knot in his shoulders from the last time he travelled from the mother country to Liyue. The arrival at the harbour was busy per usual. The sounds of Liutian and foreigners alike moving around the harbour, the voices that speak of trades and exchange greetings merge together creating a mess of noise. His fellow Fatui agents unloading the luggage they brought (limited to a single case per person), dressed in their fatui garb ready to split ways after unloading and receiving orders from the youngest Harbinger.
Tartaglia dressed in his civilian clothing and did a quick scan of the harbour. It didn’t look like much had changed much over the years he had been away. He had been wearing his Harbinger uniform up until he could see the outline of the harbour from the ship, before remembering he was not there for a quick mission.
He was there to potentially get mated (and possibly married).
“I’m sure you know what to do.” Childe says without having to turn to look at his agents, but he knows they were listening. “Independent action until necessary, don’t cause any trouble that I can’t get you out of.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch his agents nod at him. Usually they would disappear by now, going their own separate directions but they stood there behind him. Childe raised his brow when he still felt their presence behind him and fully turned to them.
“Speak.”
“Sir, are you truly going to become the emperor’s omega?” He recalls her name, Ekaterina, who was there during his last stay in Liyue years ago.
“It’s part of Tsaritsa's deal with the emperor. Who am I to disobey her?”
“What about your position as a Harbinger, sir?” a skirmisher asks, timidly rubbing the back of his head for speaking so boldly to his superior. Childe gave a half-glare at the taller male before he rolled his eyes.
“I’m still a Harbinger. This ‘mating with the emperor’ shit isn’t solid.” He does air quotations with his fingers. “What is important right now is the mission. If you find out what the emperor's big dilemma is before I do, please relay it back to me.” His agents clung to every word he uttered as if he spoke the gospel, memorising it down to each syllable to avoid missing anything and honestly, he loved it.
Surely this ‘mating and marriage’ could turn optional if he finishes the mission earlier than intended. Childe starts running through various possibilities that could happen to him when he finally starts living at the palace to prepare himself from being caught off guard. If he revealed himself to be a Harbinger right away, the emperor would put him to work immediately. They would solve the problem faster than usual. -
‘Because I’m talented and strong, it would be done in no time.’ Childe thinks to himself.
And in the end the emperor would have to mate and marry him to uphold the Tsaritsa’s end of the bargain. But… if he pretended he was just a useless omega prince, would the emperor be more willing to let him go?
He smirks at the idea before turning to his agents.
“Do not tell anyone that I’m a Harbinger.” He watches them nod once at his command.
“Dismissed.” He smiles and they disappear in the blink of an eye.
‘This could be fun.’ he thinks, his smile stretching holding more mischief from his clever plan. ‘I’ll be back home in no time.’
“You’re the Tsaritsa’s son.” a voice snapped him out of his devious thoughts. He turned to his left, seeing no one. A little cough in the direction he was looking at made him glance down meeting eyes with a small girl, much shorter than himself that she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. Her mouth was curled into a distasteful pout, likely irritated at the obvious height difference.
Childe couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on his face. She was so tiny. The girl might have mistaken Childe’s smile as a mocking one and grew more irritated, her brows furrowing together.
‘She’s a fighter.’ he thinks as his eyes travel further down, intrigued by the sword attached at her hip decorated with extravagant carvings. The guard was shaped like a lion's head, beautiful listening gold in the afternoon light and the little eyes seemed to glow fiercely with amber gems. Analysing her figure, he realizes could probably beat her if they fought. He should be nice to her, since fighting weaker people did not bring any pleasure.
“I’m speaking to you.” She doesn’t mask the irritation in her voice when she glares at him. He continues to watch her with curious eyes, eyebrow raised as she moves her light purple hair behind her shoulder in one elegant toss of her hand before crossing her arms at her chest. Without having to look for too long, he knows this confident girl that came to pick him up at the harbour must be associated with the Liyue Qixing from the elegant air that she carries.
“Yes, I heard you.” Childe responds. The corner of his lip turns upward again when she rolls her eyes openly at him before turning her face away. Never in his life had he seen someone so openly irritated at him. This girl did not care the slightest that she was in the presence of one of Snezhnaya’s ruthless fighters, let alone foreign royalty.
“We’re leaving for the palace now. Follow me.” she says quickly before turning on her heels and walking away. She seemed to be in a rush to leave Childe behind, but her plan did not go about the way she planned as Childe has longer legs. He took a few big strides and caught up to her walking pace, which seemed to irritate her further. Either way, it was not hard to keep up with her.
He glanced down at his walking partner, seeing her bite her lip and her gloved hands are little balls at her sides as she walked made him chuckle.
“I hope you know I already don’t like you.” She says as she turns on her heel to open the door to the carriage. While different from Snezhnaya carriages that were fully covered and the cushioning surrounded by velvet to keep the warm, he found it cute how Liyue carriages were open, fancy carvings on the wood let air through the carriage. He traced the red wood, admiring it for a bit too long before the girl behind him made noise.
“Just get in already!” He laughed again when he climbed into the carriage, tears brimming his eyes from the way his stomach hurt.
“You’ve amused me like no other. What is your name, young lady?” Childe smiled bright and wide, feeling actual excitement of having someone openly hate him. He reached out to shake her hand, while his other hand wiped away the stray tear at the corner of his eye.
The girl huffed, her cheeks turning pink from either the humid air or his constant teasing. Her gloved hand grabbed his own.  
“Keqing.”
-
“Good morning Taru…” He sat up from his canopy bed decorated with gorgeous red and gold silks stretching his arms over his head.
His room was heavily decorated in exquisite furnishings such as porcelain vases detailed in gold and little statues of long dragons with clouds surrounding them made of marble would decorate the tables. Soft and expensive furs and fabrics draped on his bed. A single round window made of wood with intricate circle and square motive carvings framed all four sides of the window placed just a little further from the door that led out onto his huge balcony beside his bedroom.
“Good morning Qiqi!” Childe smiled at his attendant. He holds his hand out, waiting for Qiqi to give him the item that she was holding. He felt his heart melt when the little girl approached him at his bed and shyly placed a small purple flower in his palm. Childe pauses to look at the delicate plant in his hands.
“What is this?” He asks curiously. The small flower looked a little rough around its edges, but he can tell from the way Qiqi protectively held it before passing it to him that she tried her very best to be gentle.
“Violetgrass…” She fiddles with the hem of her dress, swaying her body from left to right waiting for him to accept the present she had given him.
“I love it. Thank you Qiqi.” He gently sets the violetgrass by his side before he carefully moves out of bed. He kneels in front of her to hug the smaller girl, which she happily hugs back. He feels her little hands grab the back of his silk pajamas, not being able to fully circle around him just yet.
“Let’s start the day, shall we?” Childe pulls away gently from the hug. Qiqi nods in agreement before she leaves him to find the ladies that will prepare his clothing and accessories for the day. As several sets of hands roam his body, brushing his hair and tying robes onto his clothing, another lady reads aloud the schedule that has been fixed for him by Keqing. He shuts his eyes, feeling his head tilt in one direction as a maid brushes his untamable hair. He can feel her frustration as she brushes before deciding it would be best to place little decorative pins in the shape of beautiful flowers into his hair to compensate for the mess underneath. She clips small flowers into the curls of his hair, twisting as they were little branches for the acrylic flowers to sit upon.
The first three days of Childe’s life in the Liyue Palace were very similar, a blur . Qiqi’s presence was the only consistent thing that happened during his time at the palace. Every morning when Qiqi wakes him up, she would bring something small and interesting she thinks that he would like.
The Qixing (Keqing, specifically) had presented him with Qiqi as his personal attendant while he stayed in the palace. He had discovered through the smaller girl that she works part time for Baizhu, picking herbs for hours on end occasionally never coming back to the palace for three days. But since she now waits on the foreign prince, her herb picking hours have been reduced from twilight till the sun broke through the clouds the next morning.
“Don’t you need sleep?” He asks the first day he met her. She was such a small and young girl, how could anyone make her work her bones off from dusk till dawn. Keqing stands further back from them, letting them introduce themselves before she has to haul him elsewhere.
“Qiqi is okay. Adepti are okay.” Childe didn’t know what that meant and he believed her, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a little guilty. Small kids should be getting proper rest and not scaling the side of dangerous cliffs for herbs that the doctor was capable of getting for himself.
He didn’t think that he had to make a complete 180 change from the last time he was in Liyue. Ever since Childe stepped foot on that harbour three days ago, he hadn’t touched his belongings he brought with him from Snezhnaya. He hadn’t worn any of the clothes he brought, as the attendants would dress him in Liyue’s traditional clothes specifically made for Liutian omegas.
-
“Why do I have to wear a dress?” Childe asks as he looks himself in the mirror, the silks and cotton flowy against his skin. The light blue robes detailed in a darker shade of navy blue and gold stitching complimented his eye colour. Several attendants were surrounding him, taking his measurements not missing out a single inch of his body as Keqing stood before him. She monitored the way the ladies moved gracefully about him as if they were in a dance, fleeting touches not more than 2 seconds, a stretch of tape here and there, a little tug of his clothes once in a while before the touches leave him. He watches the redhead in the mirror through the floor to ceiling mirror, the one that looked like him but he could not recognise from the gorgeous silks and cottons that decorated his imposter.
“All omegas, especially those from noble lines wear hanfus.” Keqing explains as she pulls the skirt down. Golden accessories such as clips and small delicate chains started to decorate his hair, neck and ears, Keqing was presented with different silks by the same attendants. He doesn’t say anything when she holds it up against his face, before giving the fabric back and nodding in approval.
“Plus, it’s pretty. Alphas love pretty omegas.” A beautiful woman walks in wearing her own white and golden hanfu, carrying herself like she was a goddess walking amongst men. The way her skirt flowed as she walked towards the two, the slim and elegant smile on her lips as she walked over to them. She gave a little twirl, her gorgeous skirt flaring out like a dream of silk and cotton as she arrived before the foreign prince and blushing noble.
“Don’t you agree?” She asks, leaning a little towards Keqing.  Keqing took a step back, face colouring as she looked away in embarrassment. Childe watched as the omega teased the purple haired alpha by inching closer as the other backed away. Gorgeous amber eyes gleaming with mirth, her smile hidden behind her paper fan as she basically teased the alpha. She carries a similar paper fan in her hand, wearing a similarly fashioned hanfu and yet, they couldn’t be any more different.
“Yes. You are very pretty.” her voice barely an audible gasp could be heard, but it was a sufficient response for the fair lady.
From the way her presence alone can suffocate a room, begging its attention to be turned to her and the way comfortably glides around the palace. It was safe to assume that this was the emperor's regina.
“I am Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing. It’s nice to meet you.” She gives a little bow of respect that Childe awkwardly returns back. Those titles that came after her name did not hold any meaning to Childe as he didn’t understand what that meant, it was possible he would forget after this meeting.
“You look pretty as well. I think this colour suits you wonderfully.” Ningguang says as she pulls lightly on the baby blue fabric the attendants had put around his arms not for any particular purpose other than decoration, but Childe being who he is naturally assumed he could turn it into a weapon and strangle someone with it if he was given the chance.
‘No, that’s a bad Ajax.’ He thought to himself. ‘No thinking about strangling.’ The voice in his head speaks in a firm tone as if he were speaking to a naughty child. His face sulks a little. When the attendants pulled away after what felt like hours, he was greeted with a sight he had never seen before. He was dressed in beautiful silks and cottons that could give him the illusion of being beautiful.
The style of hanfu was very similar to the long flowing one Ningguang wore, except the colours of his hanfu were softer in comparison to the dramatic whites, bright reds and golds the other omega wore. He didn’t catch himself in time, accidentally openly gawking at how well the attendants had dressed him. When he caught himself and shut his mouth, his eyes met with the Tianquan. She smiled at him, looking genuinely excited that he looked decent in those clothes. He can’t help but feel out of place. The attendants presented a variety of earrings carefully placed on a tray to Ningguang. She hums and carefully picks up one that she thinks would suit Childe best. A single red gem hanging from slim golden chains, smaller red flowers littering the chain in delicate placements.
“Why do you not wear your pheromones?” She asks as she assists Childe by putting on the earring. “You seem to have many scent blockers upon your neck.” She reaches for them, but with Childe’s fast reflexes, he’s immediately off the chair and covering the back of his neck with his hand. He leans against the vanity, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he feels and tries to steel his rapidly beating heart.
Ningguang blinked.
She didn’t even see him move.
“The Tsaritsa said not to take them off.” He says quickly followed by a forced laugh and smile, hoping that she would not press any further concerning the three scent blockers covering every inch of the scent glands on his neck, preventing any pheromones from accidentally leaking.
She was silent, hands still in the air from where she was holding Childe’s other earring.
“Alright.” Ningguang put the other earring down on the tray that the attendant held. “I suppose she would only want you to take them off during your heat.”
Childe nervously laughs and agrees with her.
-
Presented with portions more than Childe had ever seen, he had been eating a lot of food since he arrived at the palace compared to his home life in Snezhnaya. Childe had never been one to eat for pleasure, as he was the type of prince who found pleasure in pain and fighting, challenges and battle scars.
If Childe was to eat any more food, he felt as if his stomach would simply burst open and a flow of various ingredients would stream from it. But being the kind prince he is, he smiles and opens his mouth, consuming the food that was given to him.
It was an unusual sight for sure. He sat amongst the chefs at their designated dining table in the kitchen of the palace. Their sturdy wooden table plated at least three different kinds of chicken meals featuring different parts, cooked several different ways. He was seated on their wooden bench that could fit five people per side and ate from delicate porcelain wares and golden spoons and forks.
‘Why so spicy?’ Childe holds in the scream he wants to let out, his cheeks glowing a peachy red hue as he chews slowly, the burning sensation in his mouth moving further down his throat as he swallows. He can’t be anything less than regal as a foreign prince, carrying his image by sitting upright with his elbows off the table, but in that moment he feels helpless to the spice. His mouth opened slightly, pink lips huffing out hot air attempting to ventilate the scorching sensation.
“ He’s so thin. Xiangling is there anything else to eat?” A woman much older than him sat to his right, watching him as he steadily ate the steamed chicken dish in front of him cooked with chilies, thinly sliced gingers, and soft wolfberries. A man to his left took away his bowl of rice when he brought the spoon of chicken and rice to his mouth, filling the bowl with more soft fluffy rice before setting it back down before him.
“ I can make chicken feet with dark sauce! ” A young girl says as she rushes around the large kitchen holding a cleaver in her hand. The other chefs laugh fondly when ingredients start flying about the kitchen, some entering pots and nearly missing the pans. The cheery girl hums an upbeat tune while the cleaver cuts fast against the wooden board.
“ His face is red! ” One chef says to another.
“ Youths are so cute. ” The woman decides to fondly pinch his cheek, making him turn to her, rosy blush dusting his face. Childe couldn’t concentrate on the actions of the chefs in the kitchen, too busy blinking away the tears that stinged his eyes from the intensity of the chili.
“ Should eat more though. Get fatter and bear healthy kids.” The same woman wraps her hand around Childe’s slim wrist, seeing how she could easily wrap her thumb and index finger around it.
He exhaled a breath through his slightly parted mouth, the heat never leaving him. While his eyes were clenched closed, the young girl dropped a large bowl of soup beside the spicy chicken he had yet to clean off his plate.
“Eat up!” She says in a language he could understand since he had arrived in this kitchen an hour ago and beams a bright smile at him. He weakly smiles back with as much politeness he could muster in that moment, knowing he couldn’t get out of the situation he was currently in.
-
The end of Childe’s three busy days had been the most exhilarating despite the slow start. From the moment he woke up, the ladies had brushed his hair and dressed him per usual but this time under the watchful eye of the tiny purple haired Qixing. When he was dressed, she extended her hand towards him accompanied by her sharp glare. He didn’t think much of the gesture, placing his hand on top of hers before the alpha escorted the two of them through the maze of open aired hallways leading to the emperor’s palace in silence.
“Stand here and don’t move. Don’t go anywhere.” Keqing said when they had reached the altar, removing her hand from under his. He took a look at her and nodded in understanding. She nodded back, turning away to take a seat just behind him. From the sound of a drag of the chair against the floor, he can tell she pulled a seat closer to her own in that moment he wasn’t looking.
He had stood before the entire Liyue Qixing, seven heads of noble lines seated behind him as he stood what looked like an altar, listening to a man speaking in pure liyuan before him. From the dramatic gestures to his loud booming voice that echoed the hall, he could guess the man was a preacher of some sort. Occasionally he would jolt awake from the way the preacher’s voice would boom.
“ In the consort’s next heat, may the archons bless that an adepti child be born. ” Childe’s polite smile is beginning to fade into a more awkward and strained one. He feels like he had been standing there for ages from the way his back began to hurt from how straight he stood, combined with the heavy weight of the seven pairs of eyes staring holes into his back.
“ The emperor. ” The loud man gestured to the large double door he had entered through, but all Childe could do was stare in confusion. The man spoke such pure liyuan it was difficult for him (someone who only ever heard informal liyuan from his one year stay) it was as if he was trying to process the thick accent along with the pure pronunciations. He tried to interpret the preacher's words with the minimum amount of liyuan he learned during his one year post at Liyue Harbour when he was 21.
‘It’s too fluent.’ Childe furrows his brows in frustration. ‘I don’t understand.’ While he was trying to deconstruct the words the preacher was saying so he could get a hold of what he was on about, he failed to notice two pairs of footsteps that entered the room. One pair had stopped walking just behind him while the other walked up beside him.
“ Two worlds will collide in a united front, to unite two countries, two perspectives, two worlds. ” The preacher made a particularly big gesture before intertwining his fingers together and locking them.
‘Honestly, I should have thought about getting a tutor 3 years ago.’ He tried his best not to show such a confused expression, but failed when he heard a chuckle beside him.
“He said ‘two worlds colliding in a united front’.”
“Ah, thank you.” Childe turned his head to thank the figure beside him before looking away in fear of getting scolded by Keqing, and looking back because fuck getting scolded by Keqing.
‘This man is so handsome !’ Childe practically screamed in his mind, so loud that he was afraid the other man could hear him. He was scared the whole hallway could possibly hear him from how loud his thought was. He didn’t care that he was openly staring with eyes as large as dinner plates at this point.
The prince was suddenly very aware of the taller man standing beside him on the altar.
‘He’s taller than me. No one is ever taller than me.’ Childe snuck another sideways glance, trying to hold back the embarrassment from showing on his face. He clearly was embarrassed, he himself knew it and is accepting of the fact. He tried to steady his breathing when he felt his heart hammer at his chest. He did not prepare himself for the possibility of the emperor being (hot) his type.
‘His jawline is so sharp. He’s so tall. Is it because he’s an alpha? He’s got such pretty eyes.’ Childe’s mind was busy collecting as much information as he could get from simply looking at the emperor, he didn’t realise something slipped from his mouth.
“Pardon?” He turns his head to fully look at Childe, watching as the prince’s fair cheeks bloom a bright red when he realizes some thoughts may have slipped out as real words.
“My apologies, it’s nothing.”
Throughout the ceremony, Childe kept sneaking glances at him. Well, he couldn’t help himself no matter how disciplined he was. This man was so much eye candy he had to openly stare. When the other man noticed him staring and when he caught his eyes, Childe whipped his head to look away.
“Are you nervous?” he hears a soft voice beside him. He looks up to see him glancing with a gentle expression. Childe felt himself blush. The emperor is so handsome, you would never believe he was 40 years old.
“Yes, a little. I can’t really understand what he’s saying.” Childe admits truthfully before he felt him blush rise to his ears. Why did he admit that? Was his face really able to let down his guard?
The emperor chuckles a little before he smiles and looks forward at the officiater. “We’ll get you a tutor. It is an easy language to grasp once you figured out the basics.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a problem.” He smiled.
‘Fangs!’ Childe’s mind shouted in glee when he saw the sharp teeth but his face kept a calm appearance. He realises he’s been too jumpy during the ceremony and not concentrating at all. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘Of course the man has fangs, he’s an alpha.’ He nods, thinking logically and completely missing the side glance followed by a fleeting smirk the other man gave him.
The preacher hands Childe and the emperor a small cup each filled with fragrant rice wine.
‘Do I drink this?’ He looks at the clear liquid in the goblet before looking up at Zhongli, meeting his eyes for the first time in the hour they had been standing beside each other. Zhongli’s eyes never tear away from him as he slowly puts his own cup to his lips, waiting for him to do the same.
Luckily Childe catches on and drinks the wine, Zhongli doing the same.
-
“ Congratulations on getting married. ” Ningguang says in pure liyuan dialect, bowing at Childe and the emperor. Her voice carried a smoother tone when she spoke in liyuan compared to when she spoke to Childe a few days ago. He snuck another glance at Zhongli without fully turning his head, trying not to seem too interested in the man.
‘Well, if he hears my thoughts I’d be doomed.’ Childe fully regained his composure after being let go by the preacher, some of the Qixing nobles leaving the hall as soon as it was done with the exception of Ningguang and Keqing, who stood further back towards the door waiting for them to finish their conversation with the emperor. He stood beside the emperor, waiting for him to finish his exchange with his regina before introducing himself, but while that was happening he was running through his mind figuring out how to make a good first impression.
“ Be quiet. ” He says, but the smile that graced his face when he faced her was gentle, yet it held some mirth. The smiles they exchanged held deeper meaning, as if it holds years of bonding that could not be overwritten by the involvement of a second love. Childe feels envious somehow.
Zhongli fully turns to him, with that handsome smile still on his face and Childe finds himself being entranced. He could finally get a good look at the well dressed man who wore layers upon layers from his dress shirt to his vest and his outer coat, this man was covered from head to toe leaving not an inch of skin exposed for imagination to run wild.
“Childe, this is Zhongli.” Ningguang introduces them before Zhongli could open his mouth to speak. “Call him xiansheng.” Zhongli turned to her with disbelief on his face while she giggled mischievously behind her gloved hand.
“You don’t have to call me - “
“Xiansheng?” He feels shy when he attempts to copy Ningguang’s pronunciation. He was rewarded with a thumbs up from the fair lady, but he noticed Zhongli take a step back from him.
“That is good pronunciation, Childe.” Zhongli says.
“My real name is Ajax.” He blurts out, feeling his cheeks get hot from how well this man could play him without having to do anything. He hasn’t actually said his original name for years, not since he had been adopted by the Tsaritsa. He felt as if he could have gone a lifetime without hearing that name again.
“Ajax.” And yet, he wants to hear his name on this man's lips more, drink it up like it was wine and honey. The smile that comes after the syllables of his name were addictive. He feels high, overwhelmed even, as if he had not been breathing oxygen up until he hears his name uttered from this man's lips.
If he could look at that smile for the rest of his life.
“There’s plenty of time for you both to get to know each other,” Ningguang says, but the holes that Keqing had been staring into her head had increased in intensity since earlier. “But not right now.” She smiles, a little nervous about the purple haired noble that was clicking the heel of her shoe against the carpeted floor.
Unfortunately, Ningguang went unheard by the two males. Zhongli looks at Childe like he is the only person in the hall, and Childe looks at him like he was the only person in the universe as they spoke, low and quiet unwanting others to hear their meek conversation.
“Are you really 40 years old?”
“No, that might be an exaggeration.”
“I knew my siblings were joking - “ “I’m 57.”
Childe blinked, his hand moving away from his mouth, to look at the emperor with disbelief. He shook his head, feeling whiplash from the information. The corners of the emperor's lips quirk upwards, amused as he watches the ginger process the information.
“You’re older than the Tsaritsa.”
“Indeed. I’ve known her for a very long time, we are good friends.”
“Ahem.” A loud noise was made, finally attracting the attention of the prince and the emperor. They turned to look at the smaller girl, her fist at her mouth before she crossed her arms. Ningguang stood a little behind her, averting her gaze. She did try to warn them, they couldn’t blame her for their scolding.
“Childe has to meet his tutor and Lady Ningguang and I have a meeting to tend to.” Keqing says bluntly. It seems her clear dislike was not hidden from anyone, not even with the exception of the emperor.
“Oh? I thought we were going on a date?” Ningguang piped up, making the purple haired girl go red in the face, but keeping her usual stoic demeanor. Keqing had her hands balled up in fists when the lady teased her, but couldn’t deny that it had embarrassed her in a good way. Zhongli raised a curious brow at his Qixing before nodding.
“I understand. You may go.” He says to Keqing and Ningguang. They both bow at their direction, before taking off. Childe was in the midst of turning away to follow them but was stopped by a gentle touch of a hand on his wrist. The touch was so gentle, it made his heart flutter. He looked at the gloved hand that caught him, before looking up at the emperor’s face.
“Xiansheng?” He says curiously. Zhongli hesitates, so the both of them were simply studying each other's faces. He looked like he had a lot to say to him, his mouth opening slightly before closing, and opening again and biting his lower lip.
“Till we meet again.” He finally says. Zhongli looked the way that Childe felt, shy. Childe couldn’t suppress the twinkle in his eyes and the smile that crept upon his face.
“Till next time, xiansheng.”
-
“In Liyue customs, an empress is bred from young, training from a youth until a young adult to be able to take the responsibilities that come with being the empress. Among these responsibilities are overseeing the imperial charity, funding for - '' The words blur and jumble into a ball of sounds as Childe stares at the pen and blank paper in front of him.
Why did he have to learn about the empress anyway? Couldn’t he skip to the parts that he didn’t need to learn since he was a meer concubine to the emperor? He twirls the fountain pen between his fingers, careful to not fling ink out and spray it all over the parchment.
“Childe, are you listening?” He looks up at his tutor. The blue haired boy much much younger than him is sitting at the end of his desk with a thick book placed on his lap.
“Yes, Xingqiu, I’m listening.”
“Good. How many years must an empress candidate undergo training before she can become the official regina?” He places his elbow on his knee, leaning his head on his hands as he watches the foreign prince in amusement. The prince clearly hadn’t been listening to him, instead choosing to spend his time concentrating on not spilling the ink from his pen as he twirled it between his fingers like a baton.
“Sixteen years.” Childe answers effortlessly, avoiding eye contact with his smug tutor. Xingqiu’s head lifted from his hand, a little shocked that the prince actually was paying attention to him.
“Good. We can move on to the inner workings of the emperors palace and its hierarchy.” He clasps the book shut with both hands, placing it onto the ever growing pile behind him before picking up another heavy volume with gold engravings on the spine. The red head looked at the book before his gaze trailed up to his teachers face. There is no way this boy was older than sixteen, and yet he’s sitting on the corner of his desk acting like his boss. According to Keqing who assigned Xingqiu as his tutor, the boy comes from a long line of nobles that had been famed to teach Liyue etiquette to both the descendants of emperors and empresses.
“A summary of the hierarchy would be Emperor Zhongli of course, followed by his son Xiao - “
“His son?” Childe asks, curiosity getting the best of him. ‘I didn’t know Zhongli was married.’ He put a finger to his chin and leaned back into his chair, hiding his troubled expression behind his hand.
“Yes, the sole prince of Liyue and only son of the emperor, Xiao. He is twenty this year, but isn’t taking the throne.” the blue haired boy shrugs as if the information was not anything special before flipping to another page of the thick book. Childe still lost in thought was thinking about the possibilities of Zhongli’s wife and himself having a child together, but still allowing the emperor to take a concubine for the sake of his country.
“He’s the current head of the Liutian army.” His tutor realises that he was no longer paying attention and raises a brow. He figures the prince must have some troubling thoughts to forgo listening to him altogether.
“He’s adopted.” Xingqiu says. He wants to burst out laughing when the information clearly did not reach Childe’s ears, but chooses to muffle his giggle behind his hand. He watches the prince's furrowed brows and smiles gently. Might as well continue reading from the book if the prince was not going to pay attention to his detailed explanations. “After the prince would be the eight heads of the Liyue Qixing starting with the Tianquan, who oversees the law and governance.” Xingqiu continues, the sun setting through the window behind him colouring the room in an orange hue.
- ‘The emperor has a son, which means he has a wife’ was the one thing Childe really took away from his first tutoring lesson with the young noble. He lies down on his bed staring at the ceiling above him, feeling the air gently blow through his open window surrounding him in comforting cold winds. It felt nowhere near as cold as Snezhnaya, but it would have to do for the night. The prince tended to do his thinking in the dead of night while the wind rustled through his fluffy hair.
‘The previous Tsar before mother had over eight omegas as concubines, but mother has never taken a husband.’ He thought, rolling onto his side and propping his head up onto his arm. Through his window, he could see the gorgeous garden filled with trees and white stone walls that sat between the emperor's palace and the palace he currently resides in. Deciding to get off his bed, he walked over to the window letting his long robes drag across the floor, tucking the long fabric under his legs while he situated himself on the bench beside the window.
‘Maybe mom is right? Would I actually have to work hard to impress the emperor?’ He furrows his brow in thought which he found himself doing very often since he had arrived at the palace. Childe thought himself to be the adaptable type, able to mold himself into any situation and conquer the harshest of conditions.
And yet, being treated like a soft and gentle omega was the strangest thing he had ever experienced in his lifetime.
‘Are soft and gentle someone Zhongli likes?’ Childe gets off his bench to walk over to the floor to ceiling mirror in the corner of his room. He looks at himself in the mirror with the robes wrapped tightly around his waist, and yet it was still loose enough to slip off slightly. He wasn’t very much the image of an ‘omega’, having more sharp angles than soft curves, and he is tall nearly the same height as the emperor. Overall in comparison to other omegas he had seen around the palace they had been the exact opposite of him.
Small, soft types with curves and usually very pretty with large doe eyes.
‘I’m more handsome than pretty.’ Childe thinks as he grabs his hip bones with both hands. ‘Sharp.’ He continues to pat his body, feeling the toned muscle and bone on him from years of working for the Tsaritsa. His hands trail to his toned stomach and rubs it in circles with the palm of his hand. He had always thought the best feature of his Harbinger uniform was that it had normally exposed his stomach, which was a part of him that he was proud of. It was sexy to say the least and it aided him agility wise on the battlefield, but now he wasn’t sure. Were omegas supposed to expose themselves like that?
‘I could make the effort. Zhongli is kinda handsome, I guess.’ He rolls his eyes, as if he had now been openly gawking the first time he met the emperor. ‘And helping the Tsaritsa is my priority.’
“Damn, I’ve never been this body conscious in my life.” He walks away from the mirror, but turns to look back at himself, eyes directly dropping to the shape of his ass in the mirror. He laughs a little pathetically before running a hand through his hair.
“This guy doesn’t know me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide the fact I was practically a tyrant back home!” With full confidence, he turned to face the mirror and crossed his arms, beaming at his prettier doppelganger in the mirror. He met his eyes, smile falling a little. Who was he kidding, he felt so out of place.
“Right?”
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ikemensweetheart · 3 years
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Spider Lilies Chapter 1
Yokai? Yoshimoto x reader.
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An unexpected turn of events leads you into the Spirit World. A land of mythical and terrifying creatures called Yokai.
Pursued by a powerful Yokai called Nobunaga, you find refuge with Yoshimoto. A 'collector of beautiful things' as he calls himself.
Trapped in a strange world with no one else to turn to. 
Will you become Nobunaga's bride or will another win your heart?
A/n: I've been wanting to explore the idea of the Ikesen suitors as Yokai since the release of Mitsuhide's route. The idea seemed perfect for October. So, here it is!
I also wanted to give Yoshimoto some much needed love.
Reader is female
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It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, birds were singing and the flowers were blooming. It was a perfect day to go out for a walk. "I'll be back soon!" You called out as you stepped out the backdoor for your parents' house.
"Be careful!" Your mother called back from the kitchen window. "I will!"
You smiled as you set off into the woods that was on your parents' property. You had loved to take hikes in it ever since you were little. It was nice to get some fresh air while surrounded by nature. There was nothing more invigorating.
So, you were off with your sketchbook in hand and a pep in your step.
You walked down the worn deer paths you knew by heart. You followed the paths with no particular destination in mind. Your mind wandered from subject to subject as you walked. You were a college student on break and staying with your family for the summer and you were finally able to properly relax after a long semester at school.
As you walked, the trees around you opened up into a small clearing. You stopped when you saw something in the middle of it: a torii gate. 
"Where did this come from?" You wondered out loud. You had never seen one in these woods before. It looked old, its red paint was chipped and dull. You were surprised to see it was still standing. There were red spider lilies growing all around it.
Curious, you approach the gate. 
Nothing looked out of place other than the gate itself as you stood in front of it.
You moved closer to get a better look at it when something caught your foot. You yell as you stumble forward, falling through the gate and towards the ground.
You were surprised when a strong pair of arms caught you. "Well, what have we here?" A voice rumbled.
Your head snapped up. You find yourself staring up at a pale face, with horns protruding from his ebony black hair. "A human?" Blood red eyes flashed with surprise at the sight of you. They then narrowed. "What are you doing here?"
You glance around. You were no longer in the familiar, sunny woods near your home. All around you was a dark, foreboding forest. Tall trees looming over you as mist lay thick around the trunks. There were more spider lilies growing around you, but these ones had an ominous glow to them.
A sick feeling started to form in the pit of your stomach. A question came out of your mouth that you were dreading the answer to. "Where am I?"
"You are in the Spirit World." The strange man said. 
Spirit World? Like in the old stories where Yokai live? The pit in your stomach grew.
"What do you have there, My lord?" You jumped at the sound of a voice. You looked up to see another man perched in a nearby tree. He has silvery white hair, fox-like ears on top of his head and seven tails swishing behind him. His ears twitch with interest.
"Ah, there you are, Mitsuhide." The other man said. "It would appear a human has fallen into my realm."
The fox man, Mitsuhide, studied you. His golden eyes gleaming. "Quite a fetching human." He commented.
"Indeed. She will make for an excellent bride." 
You stiffen. "Wait, what?!" The man still holding you looks at you. A self satisfied smirk on his face. "You heard me correctly, human. You are to my bride."
You stare up at him with shock and horror. "You can't be serious!"
"Very serious." Mitsuhide said from up in the tree. "Lord Nobunaga would not bestow such an honor lightly."
"No way! I don't even know you."
Nobunaga's eyes narrow dangerously. "You would refuse me?"
Your body grows cold. A lot of Yokai were known for eating humans, you could very well be this guy's next meal if you didn't go along with what he said.
But, maybe there was another option...
This Nobunaga guy's arms were still loosely around you. This could be your only chance.
Deciding to take that chance, you push away from Nobunaga. Caught off guard, he lets go of you and you take off running. Ignoring the shouts behind you.
Nobunaga's eyes glare after your fleeing form. "Would you like me to retrieve her, my lord?" Mitsuhide asks. "Yes." Nobunaga answers. "And see to it that my bride is unharmed."
You didn't know where you were going, you just knew you had to get away from those two guys. You ran as fast as your feet would carry you. Weaving around the trees and dashing through the mist.
Suddenly, a figure appears from among the trees. You come skidding to a halt before Mitsuhide. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks leisurely. A wicked looking grin on his face.
You back away from him and start running in a different direction. "Looking to make a game of this, are we?" His voice echoed through the trees. 
This was a nightmare. 
"Very well, I always did enjoy a good game of cat and mouse!" He jumped out from behind a tree.
You scream and backpedal.
Suddenly, the ground under your feet gave way. Sending tumbling down a steep slope. As you wheeled down the sloop, you saw a figure standing at the edge of a lake.
There's a yelp as you collide into that body and you both fall into the lake. You hit the water with a splash!
You gasp from the shock. The water was ice cold.
You quickly tried to get up, but you slipped and fell back down. "Oof." Your head snapped to find yourself face to face with another man. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" You say, struggling to get up off of him. He steadied you with his hands. "It's alright." He assured you. "Though, I didn't expect to be such a lovely lady's pillow when I got up this morning." His tawny eyes twinkled with amusement underneath his dripping wet blue hair as he gave you a gentle smile.
Strangely, his reassurances put you at ease.
He helped you get to your feet. 
"I would ask you to return that human to me, Yoshimoto." You froze at the sound of Mitsuhide's voice. You looked up to see him appear at the edge of the lake.
The blue haired man, Yoshimoto's, eyes narrowed. "What makes you think you have a claim to her?" He asked. "Not me," Mitsuhide replied. "But my lord has chosen this her as his bride."
You shrink away from Mitsuhide. Yoshimoto put a protective hand on your shoulder. "I see no union mark, therefore, Nobunaga has no real claim to her unless she is found in his territory." Mitsuhide took a step forward and Yoshimoto pulled you a little closer to him. Raising his free hand toward Mitsuhide. "Need I remind you, fox, that you're in my territory?" 
Mitsuhide scowled. "I concede this time, Jorogumo, but my Lord will have the human as his bride." With that, he disappeared, leaving his ominous warning and a chill in your heart.
Yoshimoto sighed and let go of your shoulder. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Yeah. I'm fine." You said as you started to back away from him slowly.
Which he seemed to notice. He gave you another smile. "If you're worried about me eating you, don't be. I've never had an affinity for humans."
"But, you're a-"
"It's Jorogumo females you should be worried about. They are much more predatory than males. That's why they show up in more human stories." He explained. He then studied you for a moment. His elegant brow furrowed. "Are you cold?" He then asked.
"A little bit." There had been a slight chill in the forest when you had first entered it, but now it was freezing.
"My home isn't far from here. Come, I have a spare change of clothes you can use until those are dry."
Yoshimoto stepped onto the shore, but you remained rooted where you were. An awful thought had occurred to you. 
"Wait, you're not going to try to marry me, are you?" You really didn't want this to turn into a creepy Yandere situation.
Yoshimoto looked at you, a deadly serious expression on his face. "I don't condone forcing someone to marry another against their will."
"Oh." You sighed in relief. "That's... good to know."
"Now, let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."
"Okay." You stepped out of the lake and followed Yoshimoto around it until you reached a traditional Japanese house standing at the edge of the lake.
"Welcome to my humble abode." He said. "It's beautiful." You told him. "Thank you."
He led you to the bath. "Take all the time you need to wash. I'll leave a fresh set of clothes for you." He said. "Thank you." He gave you yet another smile before he left you alone. 
You washed as quickly as you could. Feeling self-conscious of bathing in a stranger's home.
As soon as you're finished, you found a gorgeous silk kimono set outside the door for you. You stared at it in wonder. It had to cost more than your family made in a year.
There was a problem though: you didn't know how to put on a kimono. You had worn one a time or two when you were younger, but not enough to be able to put one on yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to put on the kimono the best you can. Relaying on your memory.
When you were finished, you knew that it wasn't the best, but it works.
You then stepped out of the bath and into the rest of the house. 
As you made your way to the main room you saw all sorts of hanging scrolls, statues and pottery all over the place. It was like an entire art museum was stuffed into this house.
You found Yoshimoto in the main room. Sitting at the table with tea set out on it. "Ah, there you are." He greeted you with his alluring smile. "Are you warmer now?"
"Yes, thank you." You replied as you adjusted your kimono's collar.
Yoshimoto cocked an elegant eyebrow at you. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, it's just been ages since I've worn a kimono." Your face grew warm with embarrassment.
Yoshimoto rose to his feet. "Here. Allow me." He came up behind and undid your miserable attempt. Wrapping it around you properly and skillfully ties the obi in place. He then came around to face you. "There." He said. "You look lovely." 
"Um, thanks." Your cheeks were ablaze now.
"I have some tea ready." He went to sit back down like nothing happened. 
You stood there for a second as your brain kicked back on. Once it did, you hurried over and sat back down. Hoping you didn't seem too rude.
"Thank you." You say as he offered you a cup of tea. "This is quite a place you've got here." You commented as you took a sip of the tea. The main room is filled with as much art as the rest of the house. "Are you an art collector or something?"
"I'm an admirer of all things beautiful and as such, I like to fill my home with it." Yoshimoto explained. "Although, I don't believe I gave you a proper introduction and for that I apologize. I am Yoshimoto and may I ask your name?"
"I'm (MC)."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, (MC)." He says with a smile. "But, if I may ask, what are you doing in the Spirit realm?"
"Well…" You explain to Yoshimoto about the torii gate, going through it, stumbling into that Nobunaga guy and Mitsuhide chasing you.
After you finished your story, you said. "Thank you for your help, and the tea, but I should really be getting home now."
You moved to stand up. "I'm afraid that may not be possible." Yoshimoto said softly. You stopped. "What? Why?"
"There were red spider lilies around the gate, correct?"
You nodded. Yoshimoto let out a sad sigh. "The spider lilies mark the path between the human world and the Underworld. On the rare occasion, that path goes through the Spirit realm. However the path is always changing and never stays in the same place for long." That pit that was in your stomach earlier came back with a vengeance. "What does that mean?"
"It means that the only way back to the human world is along that path." Yoshimoto's expression was a solemn one. "I've no doubt that since Nobunaga intends to make you his wife, he will have had the flowers destroyed by now and There is no other way for you to return home than the way you came."
You dropped back down to the floor. It felt like the wind had just been knocked out of your lungs. "You… you mean I can't go home?"
You had to go home. You had promised your mom you'd be home in time for dinner. She was making your favorite. You… you couldn't break your promise.
"I truly am sorry." Yoshimoto murmured. There was a sad look in his eyes that told you he meant it, but it still didn’t make you feel any better.
Hot tears start streaming down your cheeks. This can’t be happening. All you had done was go out for a walk. You hadn’t expected to never be able to return home. You had told your mother ‘see you later.’ Not ‘goodbye.’
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your shoulder. Your head snapped up. You found Yoshimoto looking at you with a gentle look in his eyes. “Since you have nowhere else to go, you’re welcome to stay here.” He said softly. “I can’t.” You objected. “I can’t pay you or anything like that.”
“There’s no need for payment.” He replied. He gave you a reassuring smile. It was strange how easy it was for this guy made you feel at ease. “You don’t have to have an answer right away.” Yoshimoto added. “You can sleep on it. I have an extra room and a futon you can use for now.”
“Thank you.” You murmured.
“This way.” Yoshimoto helped you to your feet and led you to another room. There, he pulled out a very cozy looking futon and rolled it out on the floor.
“I’ll leave you to rest.” He said.
“Thank you again.” You mumbled.
He gave you one last, worried look before leaving you alone in the room.
You collapse on the futon. More tears running down your cheeks as choked sobs started to escape from inside of you.
Meanwhile, Yoshimoto stood outside your door. Listening to the heartbreaking sound of you crying. He remained there, making sure you were alright until finally sleep had overcome you. It was only then that he left.
To be continued…
-----
Thanks for reading. I hoped you all enjoyed.
Stay Safe.
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monstersandmaw · 4 years
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Embers - Male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Six (light nsfw)
Hi folks! Here’s Chapter Six for you of our ongoing series. It starts with a couple of nsfw paragraphs, so if that’s not your thing, start reading below the wider paragraph break. Hope you like this one! As with most of the others, it’s still longer than my aimed-for 800-1000 words, at 1404, but I don’t mind because this one was cheekily fun. Our poor reader is struggling a bit in this chapter!!
Enough waffle! I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to let me know how you think it’s going so far - I always love to hear your feedback :).
One, Two, Three, Four, Five
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Thoughts and images of Mikaeïl flashed through your body as your chest heaved and heat coiled as you tipped closer to the edge. The memory of his cool skin beneath your lips was what sent you over the edge, body shaking, gasping for air as you came harder than you’d come in a long time, just from thinking of him.
“Oh gods,” you scolded yourself in a hoarse whisper, staring at the ceiling. “Now how am I going to be able to look him in the eye this afternoon…?”
In fact, it was marginally easier than you’d imagined because as you entered the house with Celia and found yourself greeted warmly by Frankie, you heard female laughter from the direction of the kitchen, and shortly afterwards came Mikaeïl’s gruff baritone.
You did your best to smile encouragingly at Celia as she trotted eagerly after the satyr, already babbling about how she’d practised the tricky bits and could now play a C-major scale and do the arpeggio. His praise was muted from your ears as he closed the door, and you steeled yourself and headed for the kitchen.
Of course Mikaeïl had a partner already. How could someone as gorgeous and articulate and intelligent as him not have a partner?
Knocking lightly on the door, you stepped inside, and drew up short when you saw the figure with him. She was stunningly beautiful, with long, purple hair, the colour of crushed blackberries, that fell in waves down her back, and brilliant green eyes. She had a crisp white shirt on that was tucked in at the waist into a pair of pressed navy slacks that made her legs look frankly… fantastic. Suddenly, amid the mulberry waves of her hair, you saw two dark horns, smaller, less obvious, and more delicate than Mikaeïl’s, curling gently towards the back of her head. She was standing with one perfectly manicured hand on Mikaeïl’s upper arm, the laughter still dancing in her eyes as she turned to face you curiously as you entered.
“Hi,” you said, glancing awkwardly from one to the other of them. A second later you began to babble very quickly, “Uh… I brought the design for you to look over. I had it printed to the size you wanted, so I can just leave it here,” and with that you shoved the clear plastic folder onto the counter top and, as if you had no more courage than a field mouse, turned and left the room.
The quiet murmur of voices resumed as the door closed behind you, and after a short scuttle down the corridor, you stood in the entrance hall for a moment. You were certain that the beating of your heart was echoing around the drum-like space. Knowing you’d panicked like a bloody teenager at the sight of him with someone else, you took a deep breath and opened the front door feeling sheepish and foolish, and a little hurt. The chill autumn air hit your lungs as you took another deep breath, and you headed over to your rusty old car, deciding that you’d rather just sit in there like a dumb idiot than go back into the kitchen now.
Perhaps four or five minutes later, the front door opened and the woman stepped out into the sunlight first, her hair gleaming and tumbling down her back as she turned to hug Mikaeïl with what was clearly intimate familiarity. She kissed his cheek, laughed affectionately at something he muttered into her ear, and then turned to go, striding away across the gravel towards the long drive that would eventually lead to the road. You were surprised that someone as well-dressed as her was walking, but it was a beautiful day, and anyway you didn’t have much time to dwell on it because Mikaeïl was approaching your car, a curious look in his golden eyes.
You knew you couldn’t be a petulant child and hide in the car, refusing to come out, you pulled on a smile and stepped out. “Didn’t want to intrude,” you blurted before he could even open his mouth.
“It’s alright,” he said. “But you really didn’t have to go. Caerelia would have liked to have met you…”
“Oh. Sorry,” you said, heat flushing your cheeks despite your best efforts.
He chuckled warmly and, as he turned back towards the house, said, “You want to come inside now? I loved the design, by the way. We both did.”
“Right.”
He scowled, pausing and half turning back to you, and then you watched the penny drop through his brain. “Oh!” he said, and then began to laugh softly again, amusement brightening his eyes still further. “I… I feel I should perhaps have mentioned earlier that Caerelia is my older sister…?”
His sister.
Idiot.
You snorted and said, “Well, I mean, she’s pretty… You can’t blame me for assuming the two of you weren’t family…”
It was Mikaeïl’s turn to blush, the colour warming his cheeks, and he shook his head slightly. His true-red hair was piled atop his head in a delightfully scruffy bun, with sections falling loose at the back, looking almost like little flames, dancing as he moved. “I’m flattered,” he said. “And…” he stared intently at you and added, “Not just for that compliment, I think. Come, let’s go inside.”
Your throat had turned dry at the look he’d given you, and that he’d registered your obvious and rather childish jealousy, and you swallowed thickly before speaking. “Sure.”
Suddenly as you approached the threshold, his hand was at the small of your back, guiding you quietly inside before him, and your knees nearly gave out at the touch. He was gentle but firm, and it brought back all your fantasies of that morning with embarrassing clarity.
“Something hot?” he asked, and you nearly tripped over the doormat.
“What?”
“To drink,” he clarified, and you practically burst out laughing. “Or something cold. I have options for both.”
You shook your head, trying to scrape together the fragments of your disintegrating composure, and said, “Uh… let’s sample another one from your hoard of teas?”
“Wonderful,” he purred from right behind you and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as his breath fanned across your skin.
The mock-up of the poster was sitting on the kitchen counter when you entered, but you ignored it and went straight to the conservatory to be among his plants and to calm the heck down. You weren’t normally this flappable, but there was something about him that just snuck under your armour and control and turned your brain to utter nonsense. You licked your lips and took a deep breath, hugging your arms across your chest as you heard his footsteps approaching on the hard tiles of the kitchen floor. Calmer, you turned around to watch him draw near.
He was so ethereally beautiful, and the autumn sunlight flooding in through the glass set the natural highlights his hair gleaming like burnished copper and his eyes glittering. He smiled, those attractive lips curling warmly, and he came to a halt at a distance that was a mite closer to you than was normal for two people just discussing business.
You had to tip your head back a bit to meet his gaze, and you smiled. “What?”
“I wanted to ask you something,” he said in a quiet voice that set your pulse racing, though you thought you hid it a bit better this time.
“Oh?”
“Mmm. You must know the date of this ridiculous dinner event by now, seeing as you’ve put it on your spectacular poster… I was wondering if you might consider coming with me as my guest?”
“You… You want…?” your brain shorted out and you kicked it back into life with considerable effort. “You mean… as a date, or…?”
“Yes,” he said. “As a date. But only if that’s something you’d like…”
Finally managing something a little better than an embarrassed blush, you smiled coyly and said, “Didn’t my little parting gift last time we met tell you that?”
Somewhere behind him, the kettle clicked off, and with a smile that bordered on a very draconic smirk, Mikaeïl said, “I thought as much. That is why I asked.”
And he stalked back across the room, leaving you staring at his very beautiful back and biting your lip with anticipation.
I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!
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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years
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Induratize | 01
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Genre: Smut, PwP
Pairing: Sugar Daddy/Creative Writing Professor!Namjoon x Student!Reader
Warnings: Male masturbation, public rutting, swearing/cussing, dirty talk
Summary: It is near impossible to guard one’s heart against love, especially during the prime years of youth. Slowly but surely, resistance is harder to keep up when affection is shown on a daily basis from a forbidden side. 
However, forbidden does not always necessarily mean wrong.
Such is the argument of a wolf longing for a little doe.
Author’s Note: Induratize (v.); to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or to the idea of love.
Masterlist
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
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Writing brings a certain liberty with it for it can transport an individual anywhere in this world or an existence entirely stemming from a person’s fancy.
The reader can go anywhere.
Between the sheets.
With anyone.
With him.
Perhaps find what they are looking for.
Happiness.
Feel anything.
Slender fingers trail up the thigh before gently albeit forcefully pushing them apart, claiming what is craved as foreheads rest against each other. As locks the colour of wet sand are run through while basking in the grunts of union. As he and I are finally one.
Such are the fancies written down in the story which has been handed in this week, once again stirring hands into motion to relieve the strain in the sweatpants which replace the formal yet casual attire required of a professor. However, at home, there is the freedom to wear baggy clothes that make for comfortable and easier judging of student assignments.
And let personal imagination run wild thanks to the desired girl who every thought has belonged to since the matching day for the study well over a year ago.
‘Do you like that, little doe? Like seeing how I stroke my big cock, thinking of you?’ A dark chuckle cannot be suppressed at seeing the true manifestation of the character somehow miraculously standing a few steps away, the upper lip supported by a shy curled index finger. ‘You really don’t know what you want, do you? First you want me to fuck you against the wall.’
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Last week’s story.
‘And now you want me to take it slow.’
‘Pro- Professor, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to walk in like this-’ Flustered like when being called upon in the classroom, eyes briefly avert before daring to look up again with innocent rosy cheeks.
The same look as when trying to deny the payment of the coffee offered out of goodwill or the quick lunch foods when coming across one another in the nearby supermarket. Always the well-meant proposal is refuted by insisting on paying for whatever it is herself. Besides, personnel should not have to provide for students.
Or so is the little doe’s argument.
But what a beautiful mind fails to see is the wish to take care of her, to allow a well-meaning wolf enraptured by tales clearly meant for him to act as wanted.
To be what she wants.
What she needs.
Guidance, encouragement, care.
Love.
And be loved in return. 
To mean more than the title of professor. 
‘Shh, Y/N, it’s alright. But how about you come over here and appropriately tell me you’re sorry instead of just standing there.’ An unoccupied kind hand stretches outward to beckon the timid pretty girl, smiling kindheartedly to insist on good intentions. Slowly, shuffling steps come forward and reach out hesitantly to entwine fingers instead of hiding behind them. ‘Good girl.’ 
Eyes widen in an instant, immediately looking away but brought back by a caress of the cheek. The grip on Y/N’s hand tightens, tugging a little to breach the last of the distance and press wanton craving left alone ignited by stories against the thigh clad in today’s dusk-shaded legging. ‘Don’t look so surprised. I know how much you like being called that. Now, on your knees and properly say you’re sorry.’
Digits let go of all contact to feel small palms wrap around the knees for support while sinking to the floor. However, soon they reach for the grey waistband and tug the loose sweatpants alongside equally stone-hued boxers down to the ankles, in the meanwhile locking gazes and constantly silently asking with doe eyes if what is being done is to a wolf’s satisfaction. To ensure the little beauty that what she is doing is to much more than mere delight, the left cheek is lovingly cupped and carefully brought closer to make lips brush over leaking desire. 
But swiftly the palm takes flight to the back of the head to entangle in smooth locks once the seemingly not so innocent mistress fully shows how apologetic she is, evoking a smug grin at the memory of another tale that resurfaces once pushing further into wet warmth and holding an adorable nose pressed against the abdomen for a bit. Notwithstanding, hips relentlessly come into unrelenting motion leading to almost suffocating choking. ‘Reminds me of the story wherein I’m your stepbrother. Breathe through your nose, little doe. Good girl, like that.’
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After a brief repose to adjust breathing, the advances resume in the same fast pace as a teared-up face is held close. Admiring with the bottom lip caught between teeth, the tongue cannot help but fall into the language of the recalled tale as the mind of the ego takes over that of the professor. ‘You were right when you wrote about me being rough. You don’t- fuck, keep licking like that. Good girl. You don’t want a man, you need a beast.’ A hard thrust makes Y/N gag, watery lashes blinking rapidly as they try to pull away for air yet are pinned in place by a firm grip on velvet strands. ‘An animal to roundhouse you whenever. You want a fucking wolf and still, you don’t notice you already have one. You have me.’
Almost laughably, a contrasting sweet thumb wipes away the drool dribbling out of the corner of the mouth after forcing a lock of gazes by grabbing the chin. ‘You’ve had me since the first time I saw you on the matching day last year. I jerked off to you after you first took my proof poetry class, you simply looked too gorgeous. Did so again when I saw you on the first day and I was assigned as your tutor.’
The pretty face is pressed against bared lower skin again, grunting when hitting the back of the throat. ‘I love you. Am what’s good for you. I want us to be more, little doe. And I know you want it as well, behaving like such a slut around me.’ An appreciative hum accompanies thighs rubbing together to find relieving friction, enjoying the degradation but also content in being pleasurable.
As she always will be.
‘Do you know how much fucking restraint it took not to call you back after class? To put you on one of the tables and rip those leggings off of you?’ Each advance is rougher than the one preceding it, the frustration of unrequited love manifesting itself in the covenants of flesh. 
‘God, I’d have forced you down and made you milk me for what I’m worth after making you cry. Fucked that pussy open like a wolf and let it drip with cum. My cum. You’re mine.’ Breathing becomes shallow as random chaotic thoughts portraying the promises uttered to a phantom arise, vividly painting the picture of what could have been had Reason not barged in at the last second. ‘Mine to put my thick throbbing cock into. To be pounded into submission for being such a brat, leading me on. Denying me.’
Velvety locks are harshly pulled back, the most sensitive part remaining between the swollen lips of a beautiful ruin. ‘That’s right, little doe, keep sucking the tip. Shit, you’re so eager for this cock. I’ll make you mine, show you the wolf within. Make. You. See!’
With a final shout, consciousness completely empties of the fanciful ideas and imagined phantom as it is kicked into glad oblivious nothingness. Warmth spreads throughout body and soul, heating up the last of the chill from the September rain ticking heavily against the window.
Of a lonely apartment.
Wherein there is merely a wolf with stained hands.
And the stories of a little doe.
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Chronicles take time to tell yet have to be in order to not let them get lost in the echo, even if it comes at the cost of a good night’s sleep. After all, it is a small price to pay to write in a genre that is not fully accepted in the academic environment lest the works stem from earlier times. Fortunately, tawny short locks came to the creative rescue at noticing the lack of heart in the first few pieces that were submitted during the first two weeks of the course, calling back an aspiring author when class was dismissed to talk about the seemingly emotionless stories. Fairly directly after a timidly uttered explanation offered with burning cheeks, the ones that actually shape the genre of personal expertise were accepted. Of course, with the promise of not publicly discussing them, simply glad to allow a student to do what she is good at.
To erase boundaries.
Namjoon…
Professor Kim tends to do so regardless of the situation, offering to pay for the cheap coffee served in the cafeteria or offering to go out for brunch at the end of the morning lecture when not suggesting to pay for the last-minute picked-up ready-to-go lunch foods at the supermarket. While surely meant as a sign of goodwill and the man being more than easy on the eyes, it would have been highly improper to accept the proposals in spite of how tempting they are. After all, they are the manifestation of the fantasies oft written about. 
Albeit with a sensual turn.
Which proves to be very distracting every time even when not actively writing, resulting in zoning off while drinking coffee after sleeping in and thus almost not making it in time for the train. Luckily, sneakers jump aboard a split second before the whistle sounds and the doors close.
Walk down the few steps to the lower compartment.
And come to a halt at spotting familiar tawny locks fast asleep.
Only to approach them with a flustered face for the seat next to professor Kim is the sole unoccupied one and standing for an hour and a half has never formed an option nor will it ever. Furthermore, it is preferable to sit next to a known face than a complete stranger, even if their friendly gestures stretch beyond the bounds of appropriate behaviour.
On academic grounds.
Not here.
Outside the academy, there are no prying eyes to spot the entwined fingers on the thigh upon awakening from a shallow additional nap or think anything of a great mind resting his head on that of a pupil. 
Nobody is there to exact judgement. 
Nobody but us.
A glance outside the window tells of being one station removed from the final destination, the name on the board barely visible through the storm of shoes and trolleys yet enough so to pinpoint the current location.
‘Nam- Professor?’ Entirely improperly, for there will never be more than a student-teacher relationship, the free thumb reaches out to wipe the bit of drool threatening to fall from plush parted lips. It is more of a service than anything, exactly like waking the man imagined and reimagined over and over in a storyline. ‘Professor, wake up. We’re almost there.’
It has to be a favour because there is nothing else.
‘Hm?’ Drowsily, yawning earthen eyes open to reality and clearly have trouble adjusting as they turn to the voice of an unrequited heart. ‘Y/N? How... how’d you mean? Or what? What did you say?’
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‘We’re almost at the central station, sir. The next stop-’
‘Call me Namjoon.’
‘Sir, I-’ The sudden remark confuses due to its suddenness, head tilting to the side while swiftly throwing a slightly uncomfortable look outside to the storm of feet. Apparently, the passengers of the train will be like fish in a barrel until the next stop. 
‘Or Joon. You don’t have to be formal with me. I said you didn’t have to at our first meeting, didn’t I? So, please, speak informally. Although,’ the fresh scent of a forest after rain fills the nose as tawny strands lean forward to whisper lowly although the baritone timbre makes it sound more like purring, ‘it does sound good when you say it.’
The intimacy is wrong in any aspect even though it has been dreamed of time and again, secretly wishing to be the lucky woman to actually experience it. Nevertheless, in spite of actually not wanting to do the right thing, distance is soft-spokenly put between the two seats in the halted train. ‘Namjoon, I- We- This is wrong.’
‘And yet you’re the one holding on to my hand.’ A low chuckle rolls from full maroon lips as fingers shamefully slip from the warmth of the palm perfectly enveloping them.
I need to do the right thing. I couldn’t let him hold my hand. I shouldn’t have let him nor have been happy about it. It’s wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong!
The urgency of thought flows over in rambling speech, hands tucked between the thighs of heated panicked cheeks bravely facing a humoured wolf… man. ‘I never meant to! I woke up and it was like this. So, not to be disrespectful, but it would appear you grabbed mine instead of the other way around.’
The whistle sounds just as an elderly couple enters the compartment. As naturally expected from people with good manners, we get up from our places to offer them to the newcomers and move to the stuffy section between carriages. 
‘Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.’ Mouth formed into a smug smile, the topic comes to a self-satisfied close. ‘But I’ll take the blame and, to apologize, treat you to coffee.’
Withal, a whole new subject to argue about arises as the stomach growls due to skipping breakfast in favour of throwing on a fairly alright-looking outfit and rush out the door. 
Neatly trimmed eyebrows raise at the noise, sternness slipping into demeanour. And while the concerned undertone is wonderful to hear, a voice in the back of the mind stresses it is merely imagined to be truly solely preserved for a girl perversely fallen in love with her professor. ‘You haven’t eaten?’
Because, in reality, she has only herself. ‘N- No. It’s fine, though. I’ll pay for my own food.’
‘You don’t have to, ba- Y/N.’ Abruptly, the end of the sentence is altered awkwardly. 
Ba... Babe? Was he really just about to call me that? I must be imagining things. Surely.
‘And drink.’ Determined in persevering through the inner war fueled by the great joy of desire seemingly turned real and logic nullifying every argument that arises proving the creative writer harbours genuine feelings, the back is turned towards forbidden love in the smothering crowd.
‘Y/N, you really don’t need to. I just said I’d pay.’ Desperation underlines the statement, weirdly mixing with the mature severity of care put towards any other.
I mean nothing to you. Stop talking, stop promising. Just stop.
A bump in the tracks causes a split second of imbalance, everyone holding on to the nearest point of support. And just like in the recent story, Namjoon’s is found by grabbing the hip while the other wraps around the nearest pole, thus also accidentally bumping more intimate parts against the behind.
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Pressing them against it.
Until the hot presence cannot possibly be denied. 
‘And I just said you... you don’t need to. Furthermore, don’t you think it’s- mhm, shit, it’s highly inappropriate to ask-’ teeth bite down on the bottom lip as the big tawny wolf continues to distractingly move against a body gradually losing muscle strength, ‘ask a student out li- fuck~ like this?’
‘It’s just a coffee before going to the university where, may I remind you, we both need to be. Might as well go together then.’ Harshness fades from tone as the cheek is gently compelled to turn and caressed, contrasting starkly with harsh hips. ‘I mean you no harm so what are you so afraid of?’
That this is nothing but a quick affair. My trust in you. That I’ll fall deeper in love while I essentially mean nothing to you. Too many things hold me back.
‘Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind, little doe?’ Lips scented by a fresh forest brush over hapless ones, seducing them with a wolffish promise sung by a pied-piper. 
Show me this means something. That you’re not just trying to get in my pants.
‘No, you can’t.’ With a shock, the train comes to a halt as the intercom announces this is the final station. However, all attention is still paid to the dominant writer rutting like a beast against the dark leggings beneath an oversized sweater. Pressing hotly against increasing wetness, turning speech into whimpering. ‘We should g-’
To be cut off with a surprisingly tender kiss that is stupidly answered without hesitation. For a moment, the world is perfect as every tale ever born from a mad mind comes alive and every female protagonist moulds into the manifestation of a girl not believing her luck. 
Wishing dearly to consent to the proposal muttered during what would have been a swift reprieve to regain breath from the perfect cushiony movements of mouths. ‘I could try. Let me try, Y/N.’
But is cut short as reason violently makes consciousness aware of reality and what could be the consequences of entering into a relationship with Namjoon. The grounds between student and professor need to remain professional. Henceforth, this cannot be. 
There is nothing for us.
‘I need to go. I- I’ll see you at uni.’ 
Refuge is sought in the mass of anonymous bodies, moving with their flow. Slowly, within the bubble of the public, ears turn deaf to the baritone shouts of my name.
Nevertheless, there is only so long one can run from a wolf. 
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hotforharrison · 5 years
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The 5 Misadventures of Jessica Drew (+1 Adventure)
Check out my Masterlist here!
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Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader
Summary: When you meet Tom Holland, you have the worst luck on what’s supposed to be your best day ever.
Word Count: 3,042
Warnings: Smut and language
A/N: This is for the @unholyhaz and @spidey-waffles11 Milestone Celebration Writing Challenge! My prompt was “Stop laughing at me!”
Misadventure #1: Slice of Life
It was starting to sink in that you were about to meet Tom Holland for the first time, and you had no idea what you were going to say or do. Most likely act like a lovestruck idiot, but he was probably used to that.
You were wearing your Spider-woman cosplay for the event, and it definitely accentuated your best assets. There was no shame in wanting to look good for your biggest crush.
When you finally approached him, you nervously handed your photo to him to get your autograph.
“It’s the lovely Jessica Drew!”
You were a bit surprised he knew the identity behind your Spider-woman cosplay.
“And the even lovelier Peter Parker!” And god, was he ever lovely. The videos you’d seen did not do the man justice.
“The British Peter Parker and American Jessica Drew,” he mused.
“But you’re a whole lot better at faking it than I am,” you commented.
He chuckled. “I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
“I can assure you that I’m bloody rubbish at it, darling,” you couldn’t help but say in your best, but you knew still godawful, British accent.
You hadn’t really planned on embarrassing yourself, but this whole thing wasn’t going exactly how you’d envisioned it.
He laughed brightly, though, and that was worth it. You could watch and listen to him laugh all day.
“Maybe you are, but I’m sure you have other talents,” he teased.
“I might have some hidden up my sleeve,” you commented, mysteriously.
You watched as he made eye contact with you with those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart thumping faster in your chest. He flipped the photo over to quickly write something down on the back before he handed it back to you.
“Shit!” You hissed as the photo sliced into your thumb.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Just a papercut. I’ll survive! Anyway, thanks!” you told him.
“Any time, darling,” he said, smiling at you.
You smiled back and walked away. He even called you ‘darling.’ You were on cloud nine, and very curious what he’d written on the back.
You took a deep breath and flipped it over to find a hotel name, room number and 8pm.
Was he propositioning you? Why else would someone invite you to a hotel room in the evening?
There had to be other possibilities that weren’t just you being overly optimistic, right?
You weren’t sure what to think.
Misadventure #2: Lovestruck
You immediately headed back to your own hotel room to change into something that wasn’t your Spider-woman cosplay.
After contemplating your sadly limited options, you decided on a floral blouse and a pair of leggings. You wanted something cute, but casual.
Erring on the side of optimistic caution, you stopped by a pharmacy to grab a box of condoms to put in your handbag.
No matter how much you wanted him, and that was most definitely a lot, you didn’t want to leave with anything that you hadn’t come with.
Then, you headed to his hotel so you’d arrive about 10 minutes early. You made your way slowly down the halls to the room number he’d given you and waited outside the door.
After your phone reached 8:00, you nervously knocked and waited, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You knocked again a few minutes later. No answer.
You played on your phone for a while, taking up some time. Maybe he’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard you.
With one last knock when it hit 8:30, you sighed and walked toward the elevators, shoulders slumped and feeling down.
It was apparently too good to be true.
When you were about to turn the corner, someone ran into you and knocked you to the floor, pain blossoming across your cheek.
“Fuckin’ hell, I’m so sorry,” you heard a male British accent tell you, and it couldn’t be?
You looked up, and it was Tom. You hadn’t been stood up.
“Jessica Drew!” he said in recognition until he saw the bruise blooming on your cheek. “Oh my god, I just assaulted you. Shit, are you alright?”
You fell into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous this was.
“Stop laughing at me!” he complained, but started laughing himself.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” you eventually told him.
“I was running late, and I was in a rush to get back here to see you before you left thinking I was a dick,” he explained.
“That’s really sweet of you,” you said. “You caught me just in time. I was about to leave.”
“Let me go grab you some ice, and we can head back to my room,” he suggested.
Misadventure #3: I’ve Got My Eye On You
You waited inside Tom’s room while he went to get you some ice for your cheek, going to the bathroom to check your face in the mirror.
It was definitely going to bruise, but you honestly didn’t mind. Spending time with him was entirely worth a bruise.
The door opened, and Tom returned, coming into the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wrap the ice in. He handed it to you.
You placed it against your cheek, hissing at the soreness of the contact and cold.
“I’m so sorry, darling,” he told you, guilt apparent across his face.
“I’m okay,” you reassured him.
“Let me show you a good time to make up for it?” he asked.
Your heart started pounding in your chest. You swallowed. “What did you have in mind?”
“I invited you to my hotel room. What do you think?” he teased, eyes glinting mischievously.
“I don’t know. Maybe some Bible study?” you joked.
“Well, I’m definitely hoping to hear at least a few ‘oh god’s by the time tonight’s over.” He ran a finger down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its trail.
You gasped. So, he was propositioning you. That was something you could definitely get on board with. A bruise and a papercut were so worth this.
He took the ice from your hand and placed it on the vanity. “Is it alright if I kiss you, sweetheart?”
You nodded, probably too eagerly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Tom fucking Holland wanted to kiss you.
“Come on,” he said, taking you by the hand to lead you to sit on the edge of the bed with him.
You turned to look at his handsome face, your eyes meeting his. Instead of waiting for him to close the gap, you kissed him, shutting your eyes when your lips pressed together.
From there, he took the lead.
His tongue made its way past your parted lips and ran across your teeth. You let him in and brushed your tongue against his, exploring each other’s mouths.
The kiss turned from unhurried to heated rather quickly, one of his hands cupping your breast through your top while the other slipped under the hem of your top to brush against the bare small of your back.
You moved down onto your knees in front of him, pushing his legs apart to make space for you between them. You popped the button on his pants and pulled down the zipper, eagerly freeing his erection from the confines of his boxers. 
He was slightly above average in size with a nice curve that you already knew would hit your g-spot just right when he fucked you. And god, he was going to fuck you. Maybe even more than once. Your life was awesome. 
You wrapped your hand around the base and took the head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. His precum was bitter on your tongue, but you didn’t mind. You took him as deep as you could, gagging slightly. 
He moaned when you did that. You took his hand and put it on the back of your head. 
"Want me to fuck your mouth, love?" he asked. 
You nodded vigorously. 
"Whatever the lady wants," he agreed. 
You let go of his dick with your hand and let him take over.
He tangled his fingers in your hair and started tentatively thrusting into your mouth, gradually going deeper and faster.
You noticed he seemed to enjoy it the most when you gagged slightly, so you encouraged him to do that, to take what he wanted.
It wasn't long before he pulled out of your mouth and began cumming on your face in spurts, while you watched his face as he climaxed, rapt. You’d always wanted to see him fall apart like that, and it didn’t disappoint.
You realized too late that you'd made a mistake. His cum got in your eye, and dammit, that burned. Involuntary tears streamed down your face at the sting. 
"Are you alright?" he asked, after he glanced down at you, concern apparent across his face. "Did I accidentally touch your cheek?" 
"No, just got cum in my eye. I should have closed them, but I wanted to watch you," you admitted.
"Oh, darling," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You're not having the best luck today, are you?" 
"Well, I am here with you. I assure you that's entirely worth the little mishaps." 
He chuckled. "Let me take care of you now and make it even better."
Misadventure #4: A Breath of Fresh Air
Tom retrieved a damp washcloth from the bathroom and gently wiped your face clean while you sat on the edge of the bed again, careful with your cheek.
“There, that’s better,” he said after he was finished. 
“Can I take these off?” he asked, playing with the hem of your top.
“Definitely,” you replied.
He undressed you unhurriedly, fingers brushing teasingly against the newly bare skin.
When you were finally naked, he quickly took off his own clothes, not making a show of it. 
You were glad because you wanted him badly, and you weren’t in the mood to wait.
“Now, lie down, and I’ll make you feel good,” he told you.
You didn’t have to be told twice, lying down at the top of the bed. He joined you.
His lips were soon back on yours while he palmed one of your breasts, toying with your already hardened nipple.
The feeling went straight to your core, and you rubbed your thighs together automatically.
You broke the kiss. “Please,” you begged against his lips.
“Do you want my mouth or my hand first?” he asked quietly.
“Would you talk dirty to me if I picked your hand?” you requested.
“I can do that,” he agreed.
You spread your legs while his hand slid down your stomach to brush over your mons. His fingers slipped between your folds, and you whimpered.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he commented. “You’re fucking soaked, too. Did sucking me off really turn you on that much?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re extremely hot.”
He chuckled. “I might have been told that a time or two, yeah. You’re still talking in complete sentences, though. We definitely can’t have that.”
You moaned when he pushed two fingers inside you while his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles around it while he moved his fingers in and out.
“Nice and tight for me, too. You’re going to feel like heaven around my dick. I’ll fuck you into the mattress, until you forget everything but my name. Would you like that, love?”
“Yeah,” you told him, a bit breathlessly. “Please.”
“Nope, you don’t get my dick until you cum for me first.”
“Can you faster?” you whined.
“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, but his thumb sped up a bit regardless, and he pressed a third finger into you.
His fingers curved up to brush against your g-spot every few thrusts, and it felt amazing. No one had ever made you feel this good before, and he was just using his hand to pleasure you. You hadn’t even had his mouth or his dick yet.
“God, Tom,” you moaned, grabbing his free hand and interlacing your fingers with his.
“Love the way you say my name, sweetheart, “ he commented. “Are you going to cum on my fingers?”
“Almost there, Tom,” you said, wanting to please him.
Your orgasm hit you, and it was intense. You called out his name repeatedly.
He fucked you roughly with his fingers, and the worst possible thing you could think of at the moment happened. You farted, loudly and unmistakably.
You immediately let go of his hand and covered your face with both of your hands. Your hand pressed against your wounded cheek, making you cry out in pain.
You could tell he tried to suppress it, but he started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’m so sorry,” you groaned, hiding your face still. “I can leave if you want me to.”
“I don’t want you to go anywhere. Really, don’t worry about it. It happens,” he eventually said after he calmed down.
“I’m so embarrassed,” you told him.
He moved your hands away from your face and kissed you lightly.
“You still want to keep going?” you asked.
“Only if you do,” he responded.
“Yeah, I do,” you said.
You were pretty sure you’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t actually have sex with him, bad luck be damned.
Misadventure #5: Ride ‘Em Cowgirl
“I’ll be right back.” You went over to your purse to grab a strip of condoms.
“I think you have more faith in my stamina than I do,” he said, chuckling.
“Just being prepared in case.” You tore one off the strip and rolled it down his erection. “Can I ride you?”
He nodded. “Be my guest.”
You climbed on top of him and positioned him against your entrance, then slowly sank down until your bodies were flush. You paused to adjust. “God, Tom, you’re so big inside me.”
“You’re fucking tight and hot. I can tell you’re wet, too. Wish I could feel it,” he commented.
“With the luck I’m having today, we’d somehow both end up with gonoherpasyphilaids, and a baby in 9 months.” You were only half-joking.
He laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting barebacking. It’s important to be safe.”
You started moving your hips up and down unhurriedly, enjoying the feeling of him brushing your g-spot as you moved.
After letting you set the pace for a while, he started thrusting up into you faster, grabbing your hips to pull you down harder.
You head dropped back as you loudly moaned, meeting his thrusts.
“God, I’m getting close,” you told him.
His fingers moved up to find your clit, collecting some of your wetness before rubbing it with a single fingertip, fucking you faster and harder.
You quickly climaxed again, all uninterrupted pleasure this time, toes curling and nails digging into his skin. It was everything you’d hoped the first orgasm you’d had with him would be.
“Stop, too much,” you told him after you came down, and he stilled.
“Can we try reverse cowgirl now?” he asked, breathing a bit hard.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
You started to crawl around to face away from him and fell off the bed instead, your side thudding very painfully on the hard floor.
“Fuck, are you alright?” he asked.
“This is the worst best day ever,” you groaned into the floor.
He climbed down next to you and helped you to your feet again. 
You hissed in pain, tears dripping down your cheeks, when he grabbed your left wrist.
“Let me see,” he said, looking at your wrist. “I hate to tell you this, darling, but I think it’s broken. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
You sighed, sniffling. “Not really, but do I have much of a choice?”
“No,” he told you. “I’m going to have to insist. I couldn’t in good conscience let you leave without making sure you get it looked at.”
“If you’re not busy, can I have a do over at some point tomorrow? The fucking me into the mattress thing? I want that.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “I don’t want you to remember me as the worst sex you’ve ever had.”
Adventure #1: A Do-Over
The hospital wasn’t fun, but Tom remained by your side the entire time, and was even sweeter than you’d imagined him being.
Now, it was time for your do-over.
Your wrist, in its new cast, was carefully placed above your head out of immediate reach as Tom positioned himself on top of you, at the center of the bed where you were unlikely to fall off.
He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in slowly until he bottomed out, eyes focused on your face.
“Feeling alright?” he asked.
“I’m good,” you replied, “but I’d be better if you moved.”
His thrusts went from slow and gentle to quick and rough in increments, fueled by the noises you were making and desperate pleas.
“I’m so close.” You reached your free hand down between your bodies to get yourself the rest of the way there. He moved it away and used his own fingers to rub your clit in small circles to the pace of his thrusts.
“Tom, I’m going to-” Your climax hit you hard, pleasure coursing through your entire body from head to toes. You cried out his name between moans.
He plowed into you, chasing his own orgasm. With a last few erratic thrusts, he spilled into the condom, your name on his lips.
Once you had both come down from your highs, he carefully withdrew and walked over to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.
“Do you cuddle?” you asked hopefully as he returned.
“I love to cuddle,” he said, lying back down and tugging you close to him, careful of your arm.
“Thank you for the do-over,” you told him. “That was what I’d been hoping for.”
“You know, I still haven’t eaten you out,” he pointed out. “I wouldn’t want to deny you the full experience.”
“Do we have time?” you asked.
“I don’t fly out until tomorrow night,” he replied. “We have plenty of time for me to see how much I can make you cum in 36 hours.”
You grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”
Tag list: @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh
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treatian · 4 years
Text
The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse
Chapter 173:  True Love’s Kiss
It was good that she was gone. It was good. It was good for him. It was good for her. It was good that she was gone.
He repeated that fact over and over to himself all evening, while he'd watched her go, while he'd tried to work, and long after he'd given up. It was good she was gone; if he thought it enough, it was possible that he might finally believe it and rejoice in it.
But the truth was he'd been sulking ever since he watched her small form walk down the long road to the gate and disappear behind the tall wooden door. He tried to believe that his sorrow too was a good thing. The sulking was what told him that he'd done the right thing by setting her free and sending her away. Now that she was gone, a thing of the past, he didn't fight the things he thought, he didn't try and distract himself, he just let himself feel it—the truth.
The truth was he had felt something for her. But the last time that had happened, the last time he let himself feel anything for anyone besides Bae, it had turned out to be nothing but an unnecessary distraction, one that filled his head with daydreams and thoughts that never had any chance of coming true in his life. When he'd finally woken up from that nightmare in disguise, he'd been left heartbroken and thrown himself into his work. Baelfire. It was all he thought about day and night, all he cared about, the only thought he needed to propel him forward.
So what if the castle suddenly seemed empty? So what if it seemed quiet and lonely? Wasn't that the way that he liked it? Didn't he prefer to be alone in his solitude? What had she done for him anyway beside give him a bit more time to work because she'd fixed meals, which had turned out to be delicious after a few weeks with him? Or leave him so much time he could spend it at the wheel with company, which was nice but certainly not necessary. She'd made him laugh, she'd made the castle a home, lightened it in a way, brightened it. But what was all that really worth in the long run?
Happiness. She'd made him happy. She'd made this eternity of waiting into something tolerable, perhaps even a little enjoyable. But with his son out there missing in the world, that was precisely the problem.
She was dangerous. He knew it. And so did the monster within him. It was probably why, even with her gone, he couldn't get his work done. Why he was still sulking and feeling guilty for still sulking. He should be working on a potion, not standing at this window, practically willing that wooden door to open again. He shouldn't have made her freedom sound like an option. The option, the possibility, the smallest of chances that she might come back was what was making it unbearable! He should have just told her to leave and never come back! He shouldn't be hoping that she would come back, but a small part of him was still hoping she would. A small part? Maybe it was a big part.
No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't come back. Whatever it was that had happened between them, whatever it was that he'd felt stirring for her, it hadn't been mutual. She was a girl. An ignorant, gullible girl next to a man of his age. He'd heard hundreds of tales of young men and women with dreams precisely like hers. They never actually accomplished what they started; he'd seen that first hand as well! It was just a feeling! A desperate lonely feeling he'd had, something that had budded from her tempting beauty and well-honed intellect.
So why did he find a small voice within him arguing with that of the beast? A voice that was neither Seer nor Dark One. Why was it whenever the beast reminded him that she was nothing but an ignorant girl did he correct it and say she was a beautiful, funny, and intelligent woman? Why had he found himself believing that she was capable of accomplishing her dreams and more? Why had he found himself wanting her to accomplish those dreams?! Because of the truth.
The truth wasn't just that he felt something for her, it was so much more than that. The truth was that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered because her beauty was far more than skin deep. The truth was that while all he'd ever heard of King Maurice's daughter was that she was a beauty, she was actually the most radiant of lights because what the people didn't see was that she was just as beautiful on the inside as the outside and maybe even more. Certainly more! To say she was beautiful inside was to say she was kind, but she was more than just beautiful and kind. In her time with him, she'd proved to be witty and charming, sarcastic and loyal, infuriatingly stubborn to a fault. And brave. Possibly the bravest individual he'd ever known in his long life. And she was beautiful. She was smart, both wise and intelligent a rare and exquisite combination. The truth was that he'd found a match in her the likes of which he'd never experienced before and probably never would again. That was the truth.
And that was why he knew she'd never come back. She was gone. But he knew enough to know that he'd carry her memory with him forever, that was the impact she'd had on him, the entire reason he'd dismissed her.
He'd felt something. He'd acknowledged that, taken care of the problem, and now it was time to set his sights back on Baelfire again. It was time to sit down and move on.
And yet he couldn't. He kept his watch by the window of his tower, staring down at those gates, willing them to open just as he had all afternoon and evening. He could fool himself, pretend that she was walking along the road, coming back to him. She'd walk right through the doors and stay forever, but the figure he saw on that road was only in his mind's eye, he knew when he blinked she'd…vanish?
But she didn't. He stared down the road in amazement and wonder, blinked again, and realized that with every step the figure he saw drew closer to the castle. And…
He'd be damned. That was straw in her basket.
It was her, walking down the long road, perfectly free, and yet still baring the weight of the straw she'd collected for him. He felt himself smirk as the thoughts of the beast were suddenly drowned out by his own, very human, very male thoughts.
When she cast her gaze up upon the tower, he turned away and ran. He couldn't just stand there! He could let her know how he'd been pining for her all this time that she was gone! It was silly and clumsy, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt either of those feelings, but suddenly he found himself feeling both! Somehow he was back down in their room, the fire by her chair automatically heating for her as he sat by his wheel pretending as though nothing had happened.
He didn't want her to know he'd been waiting for her. Why? Why didn't he want her to know? Wasn't he passed embarrassment in his life? Wasn't he passed…
His heart hammered as he heard the door to the castle open and close! Wasn't he passed getting nervous by a simple girl?! Woman! A beautiful, sensitive, intelligent woman.
The moment she strode into the room, and he turned to look at her, he realized he wasn't passed anything. And as long as she was under his roof he never would be. Clearly, nerves and feeling weren't as beneath him as he'd convinced himself.
He'd let her go and she'd come back. Everything had changed.
She was gorgeous in this light. The fire, her muscles straining with her burden, and…was that a blush he saw? Why did she have to be so beautiful? Wasn't it enough that she was intelligent? Why did she have to be so tempting? Why did he have to make that particular gown with those curves, and cuts? Why had he made it so revealing?!
When she glanced up to meet his eyes, his response was jarring. He had to say something! Do something to distract her, to distract himself! He remembered he wasn't supposed to be waiting on her, looking at her. He was supposed to want her gone! So why did he feel only more and more excited with every step she took.
"Oh, you're back already! Good! Good thing!" he piqued, his voice involuntarily going up a few octaves more than he'd meant to. That had nothing to do with his crafted persona, and everything to do with the pounding in his heart. He turned away and back to the wheel, with any luck, she'd go back to read and it would just be an ordinary night. "I'm, uh…I'm nearly out of straw," he swallowed nervously again.
How was it she had the power to take a centuries old cursed Dark One and make him just as nervous as an average fourteen-year-old boy?!
"Mmm," she responded, hurrying over to him and setting the basket down on the platform. "Come on…you're happy I'm back!" she smiled, meeting his gaze through the wheel.
She knew?! She knew. No! She couldn't know, how could she? She was a highly perceptive woman. A danger! Beautiful and smart. It was her that was in danger. He really did need to find a way to get rid of her, to cast her out, to make sure she didn't distract him again! But not tonight. What was the harm in her presence for one more night? He wasn't exactly happy she was back. He was ecstatic. But she didn't need to know that.
"I am not unhappy," he found himself admitting before thinking that it was the worst thing he'd ever said. He may as well have just said he'd been hoping she'd return. And…no, there was no mistaking it now, she was blushing, a beautiful rose color that complimented her smile perfectly.
Oh, she needed to sit down. Now! She needed to go find her book, sit at that fire, and let him think of another way to get rid of her now! But the woman didn't make a move for the dungeons, or even for her room, she stepped around the wheel for the first time that he could remember. He tried to spin, to focus, but the second he felt her hands on his shoulders, her breath on his neck, and her eyes on him, he knew it was no use. He couldn't focus if he'd tried, not with her heart humming the way it was. Her heart...why was it racing like that?
"And, uh, you promised me a story," she whispered behind him.
He glanced up at her. "Did I?"
Had he? He couldn't remember. His brain wasn't moving as fast as it normally was in this place. Her distinct scent, the smell of roses and fire and lemons, was overwhelming the grain and wood.
She made a sound that confirmed he had made her that deal, then reached down and boldly plucked the string he held from his hands. She made herself comfortable next to him, too close, perhaps. She sorted her skirts around her, and he wondered how he'd never known a human body could fit there so perfectly before. Then, before he could move or step out of the space and away from her, she did the unthinkable. She reached forward and put her hand against his leg. Delicate, beautiful, slightly shaking itself. And intimate. It was such an intimate place to touch another person.
What was happening here? Why was he nervous? Why was she so nervous, too? Why was she still here when he'd released her?
She sighed suddenly, and shook her head, her hand steadying. "Tell me about your son."
His stomach dropped. The words were sobering, or would have been if they didn't make him so uncomfortable. That was the story he'd promised her. He remembered now. If she returned from town, he would tell her about himself. He'd made a mistake. He'd made that mistake before, but he knew this wouldn't be one. He could tell her, she'd understand, he just knew she would! He wanted to tell her, just like he had for the longest time, however, he just couldn't put the necessary words together. But they'd had a deal…
"I…" he tapped his fingers together, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze. Could she read his mind? See his thoughts? Know the loophole he was about to exploit and see through it? Was this what other people felt like around him? "I lost him," he repeated, no more and no less than everything he'd let slip to her about Baelfire so far. Yet she expected him to go on, he could see it in her eyes. "There's nothing more to tell really…"
He held his breath, wondering if she'd question further, if he'd let down his guard and answer further before he had time to think about it, if he'd regret it this time as much as he'd regretted it with others.
"And since then," she went on, the grip she had on his leg tightening dangerously, "you've loved no one, and no one has loved you." Her eyes bore into him, seeing, he was sure, more than he was revealing. Love. Why had she mentioned love? Did she know that he cared for her? Did she know that when she was around he felt again?! Did she feel the same?
Despite the desperate cries of the monster within him, he found himself leaning forward, closer to her. He felt his heart flutter, his stomach twist, as he stared into her eyes trying to find the answer, trying to see it before she could, before he could even ask the question. But the answer that he continued to come with didn't make sense. She hadn't come back for him, she didn't feel it too. Did she?
"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice no more a serious whisper between the two of them.
"I wasn't going to," she whispered back, looking him over. "But, then…something changed my mind."
Something changed her mind? What changed her mind? Why had it changed?
He had a million and one questions, but suddenly the world seemed to slow around them as she moved closer, so close he could feel her breath upon his cheek and yet…she wasn't close enough!
Before his mind could form a coherent thought, his eyes closed, and he moved forward to let her do what he'd wanted to for months now.
They kissed.
She pressed her mouth against his. He pressed back.
And it felt indescribable. It was just a kiss, just her lips brushing against his own. But it was unlike anything he'd ever experience. Less abrasive than Cora's, more meaningful than Milah's, and enough to make him forget every reason, every thought, every shout of the monster that he had to stop. A pure, genuine, heartfelt kiss. And that was when he realized he was kissing her back. He'd never felt like he was melting before, but he felt that way now. He felt dizzy, his throat dry, his palms sweaty. He felt more human than he'd felt in a long time. Since before Bae left.
It was as better than he'd imagined it would be. It made him feel settled in a way that he hadn't expected, in a way he wanted more of. The moment they'd pulled away from each other, his hands sought her waist, needing the connection with her. He wanted to kiss her again, to hold her close as he'd dreamed about, and descend into euphoria with her shamelessly. He didn't want to be apart from her for the rest of his life.
"Oh, what's happening to me," he muttered, astounded at all the feelings and sensations working their way from his mouth through his body.
Her hands were at his neck, against his cheeks, intimately brushing away hair, as he opened his eyes and struggled to find her face. Why did the room seem duller next to her all the sudden? Why was he struggling to see in the dark next to her radiant light?
"Kiss me again," she demanded, "It's working!"
"What?" Working? What was working? Why did he care what was working so long as he could kiss her again?! "What is?"
Her face came into focus, and he was aware of the brilliant smile bursting across her face and staring him down. She was beautiful and radiant! Oh, maybe it was love he'd felt all this time. How could he have been expected to recognize something he'd never felt before for another woman.
"Any curse," she muttered happily, "can be broken."
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yukiobeyme · 4 years
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Is it okay if I get some hcs for trans belphie and trans mc if not that's okay
I am ALWAYS and Forever down to take on the rule of being the Trans/NB rep writer like seriously. I will die on this hill screaming about it
So I focused more on them both being trans Males but if you would like Trans! Belphie and Trans Female MC (Is that proper wording, please please let me know if it's wrong. I usually use FtM or MtF but I have seen some people don’t like that terminology so I just don’t know what is the most Trans Friendly even though I identify as Trans/NB.
Deadnaming, wrong pronouns, bad binder habits, body dysmorphia are all mentioned. Can be read as an implied romantic/ intimate relationship with Belphie
Trans Belphie and Trans MC
They are the adorable, sweet duo
Belphie definitely warmed up to once he was told you were Lilith's descendant
But when you came out as Trans
It was like he made it his job to protect you and check in on you
He made sure he showered you with love when the body dysmorphia got too much
Much to your surprise, He binds as well
 He tells you, its complicated and much as he wanted a flat chest
 And he doesn’t mind binding right now
It helps comfort him because of the pressure on his chest
Knows that long term binding is bad and will probably get the surgery
Offers to wait for you to get yours first and yall can take turns being each other nurses
Only problem is he likes to FALL ASLEEP IN HIS BINDER
  So you make it your job to wake him up during naps to make sure he was taking it off
 If he had been sleeping in it, you ask him to stretch with you first and do some breathing exercises before going back to sleep
If possible yall share clothes, you have similar styles and tend to like baggier clothes to hide his body
He also really only always accept touches from you, Beelz could be shaken off sometimes depending on the mood.
You both enjoy lazy body worship, trancing each over’s chest and complimenting how masculine and attractive each other are
Beelz is completely soft for you as well
Because of he never could fully relate
Goes to you a lot for questions
   Because he could still feel some of his Belphie emotions
Sometimes it's filled with so much self-hate, loathing and even destructive
  So he’ll come to you and ask for help whether it's giving him guidance or going to talk to Belphie yourself because you relate more and Belphie is more comfortable with you touching his body.
Overall you both try to be supportive as possible
But somedays the bad days line up
And there are two options for it
You both find shelter in your room isolating yourselves together
And simply nap all-day
Whispering reaffirming things to each other
About how valid you are
How handsome, gorgeous you are
 If it was triggered by a deadname or wrong pronouns
  If touching is allowed
 You would kiss all over the other’s body
 Whispering your preferred name and pronouns
Over and over again as if doing it will engrain the words on your skin
 If no touching is allowed
Yall spend the day together but not touching
Either both on the bed laying side by side
Or you would alternate between who would take the floor and who is on the bed
At the end of the year, Lucifer pulls you aside and thanks to you from the bottom of his heart
You see he struggles with his words and if he is allowed to touch you
 If so he would place his hand on your shoulder
 If not he respects it
Will ask if you are comfortable with a hug as well
 He tells you, he can tell how much more open and out of his shell Belphie is
That it always been a hard time because it was hard to relate and calm him down
 Says he hopes both you and Belphie can comfort each other from afar
 And expect to hear from him and the brother’s asking for more help when they need it
It was funny and ironic that your parting gift to each other was the SAME THING
It was letters with different needs
Read this when you don’t feel masculine enough
 When you don’t feel bad
When you are sad about your body
 Yall also created a jar full of stars that were full of all the favorite things you had of each other
Highlighting the masculinity
 And just the pure innocent things you love of each other
After you leave, once a week you call and talk about how your week was.
Usually someone falls asleep (Belphie)
Then once a month you see each other in person and take care of each other.
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emotions-in-a-book · 4 years
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Endowed: Chapter 3 - Last of Routine
The clock hand slowly turns to 7:00am. I run down the hallway, late as usual to my first period class. I rush into the room and take my seat just as soon as the final bell rings and announces that all students should now be in class. Breathing hard, I look over at my neighbor Kayla. Kayla Evergreen was fifteen and had been at Creeds Home since she was two. She was blonde with her hair hanging down her shoulders like a curtain and had pale skin with no sign of a growing tan. Her eyes were natural green eyes but turned hazel whenever she used her power. She could heal any injury with the slightest touch of her pale skin. Kayla remembers nothing about how she came to end up at Creeds Home, she basically grew up here with our teachers and the other students as a family. Kayla is quiet yet charming, anyone who was shy or nervous would easily be able to speak to Kayla, her personality was welcoming for being so quiet so it made it easy to talk to her. Noticing the swift movements of her wrist, I look at the board and I too start taking notes as our history teacher, Mr. Hardwick sets the projector. As usual, my history class began with a lecture on the homework assignment from the day before. I hold my breath and prepare myself for the two-hour lecture on the Aztecs. As the lecture begins, I let my eyes roam around the room. The room was plain and was more like a bedroom because there were so little students. As my eyes reach the end of the room, they lock with Jacob Sky’s eyes, my fellow classmate. Jacob Sky was one of the top students in the class and the most charming and courteous male as well. He was tall and tan, brown wavy hair, and dark blue eyes. His endowment was wind; he controls it and becomes it. Jacob was a different case, he had been at the home as an infant. No one knows how, except that he was here at six weeks and has been raised.
We stare at each other for nearly a minute until our stare is broken by Mr. Hardwick’s thick voice, “Sparks and Sky stop starring at each other and pay attention.”
I quickly turn my face to the front and I feel my face go red with embarrassment. For the rest of the period I tried to pay attention to Mr. Hardwick’s lecture, but fail. My mind wanders receiving a flashback of when I used to play with my brother in our backyard, wondering what would have happened if my parents did not open the door that one day.
                 The bells ring and everyone leaves the room and heads for second period. I take my time walking to English and when I enter the classroom I sit at my usual seat. Once everyone is inside, my English teacher Ms. Kelsey announces that we will be changing seats. Great, there were only three tables for six students and I was sure I would get a seat next to Jacob. Ms. Kelsey puts the seating chart on the overhead and to my luck I am seated by the window next to Jacob. Why me? I’m a fifteen year-old who is barely able to understand her hormones and it seems like I am making a big deal out of sitting next to a boy. He’s just a boy. I stand and start making my way towards my new seat. Once there I put my books on the table and sit. We have to share a table and I think it would be better if I used as little space as possible. As the rest of the class settles down, I wait silently staring out the window and tapping my fingers lightly on the desk. To my right I feel movement and then hear a small sigh. I turn my head slowly towards Jacob’s direction. He is sitting next to me looking absolutely perfect, so good-looking, and appears to not have a care in the world. Jacob Sky, controller of wind, had a perfect light brown skin tone, brown hair and gorgeous dark blue eyes, which turned a bluish-grey whenever he used his power. I hear my heart beating rapidly and again I feel my face turn red. Class starts and he is sitting there right next to me, oblivious to everyone around him. To me it seems like this class is going to continue on forever. No one wants to learn about Shakespeare.
Towards the end of the class, Ms. Kelsey gives us our assignment for tonight and lets us leave early. As I put my things in order, I accidentally drop my binder. My binder falls and the papers inside fly out in every direction. I bend down and start picking them up. Suddenly, I see a pair of hands handing me a handful of papers. I slowly turn my face upward to see who was handing me the papers, when I am face to face with Jacob. He smiles and hands me the papers saying “Careful Sparks, notes are important”. I take them without a word and as I take my grip on them, I feel my skin and his skin touch. I feel an electric current go through my body and I take my hand away, papers in hand. I murmur a quick “thanks” and stand up abruptly shoving the papers into my bag.  I push away from Jacob without looking at him and head towards the door. As I reach the door, I look over my shoulder towards where I left Jacob. I see that he is still at the desk but was looking out the window with an expression that showed sadness yet with a hint of happiness. I turn and head out the doors and into the hallway as the bell rang for third period.
This day just seems to be dragging on and on. I head towards my geometry class as quickly as I can. Once there I sit and try to concentrate on the theorems that Mr. Lewis was trying to teach us, but somehow my mind travels off and lands on Jacob. What could he have been thinking about? Did he feel that electrical current through his body as well? The two-hour class goes by ridiculously fast and next thing I know, I am headed towards lunch.
Lunch is held in our rooms or in the dining room and it was always at the same time, 2:00 pm. I never knew why they liked to have lunch so late and they only gave us one hour of it. I liked to spend my lunch with my friend Kari Springs. Kari has been my friend ever since I matured and has always been there for me when I needed her help. Kari was the simplest girl I had ever met. She was pale-skinned; blue eyed and had black hair that was worn in a pixie cut. Nothing could have described her more but she looked like an evil Snow White, yet she was the sweetest person I ever met. She was only a month younger than me and today she was turning 15. I reach her room and go inside. She is practicing controlling her endowment for our class, Endowment Training. Water is her endowment. There were four of us here that had endowments that were the elements. My brother and I had fire, Adriana had water, and Jacob Sky had wind. Unlike like Kayla and Jacob, Kari was brought in at eight when her parents died in a helicopter crash, with no one else to care for her, she was orphaned and sent here.
I sit on the edge of the bed and take out her gift and my lunch. She is trying to make water morph into little blue round balls and then expanding them into large smooth disks for our next class but was failing. Watching her, I say, “Happy Birthday.”
She stops, turns to me and with her hands on her hips, says, “Thanks. Did you know that besides my roommates, you have been the only person in this entire place that has wished me Happy Birthday?”
She walks towards me and gives me a hug. I hug her back and reach around her to grab her gift. I give it to her and her face has a huge smile on her face. She gives me another hug and sits next to me.
Taking the small paper package, she opens the packaging and takes out the blue beaded bracelet I had made for her. Her eyes lit up and responds “Thanks! I love it!”.
She puts it on and continues “I saw how Jacob kept looking at you during history class. I think he likes you.”
I turn red with embarrassment.
Seeing my face, she laughs, “I thought so. You like him too but you don’t want to admit it!”
Before I can respond, the door opens and Jacob steps inside. My face turns redder because I knew he must have heard our conversation. He steps inside, sits on his bed and turns to both of us eyes staring at both at us.
Smiling, he says, “You know I have always been curious about what happens in this room when you guys are in here alone. And because it is your birthday, Kari, I have decided to spend my lunch in here to celebrate with you. I hope that’s okay with you and Stacy.”
Smiling she answers, “Of course you can stay.”
She winks at me and continues, “After all I can not stop you for it is also your room and because we would love your company.”
“Thanks. What did you guys have in mind?” He answered has he took out his lunch and leaned on the pillows on his bed.
“Oh nothing really. I thought we could just practice for Endowment Training class. I really need it even though Stacy here has already morphed fire into something.” She said as she walked over to the small fridge in the corner and took out a sandwich. The best part about lunch? We all have small fridges to stock up on snacks for when we stay in our rooms. The dining hall is an option to receive food and take it back to the rooms. The fridge was a nice perk in case we did not want to head to the dining room.
Turning to me, he asks, “Is it true, Stacy? What have you morphed fire into?”
Trying real hard not to stutter, I answer, “Yeah it is true. I morphed fire into a small figure of a phoenix. I just need to practice on controlling it, though.”
“Can I see it?”
“Um… Maybe in class.”
“Oh come on. Please, Stacy? I’ll show you what I morphed wind into and then Adriana can shows us her progress. Please?” He begs me and keeps looking at me that I find myself saying yes.
“Okay. I’ll do it, but like I said I need more practice and don’t blame me if I accidentally burn you or something.”
“Don’t worry. I think we can trust you.” He says calmly.
I stand up and distance myself from Kari and Jacob and place my self in the center of the spacious room. As I calm myself, I see them waiting patiently with curious faces. I slowly raise my right hand and set my mind on the figure of a phoenix. A small flame builds on my palm. I concentrate harder and the flame grows and grows becoming wilder with exotic colors of red, yellow, and orange. Taking my time so that I do not lose my concentration, the flame takes the shape of small ball and slowly wings spread out taking the shape of a small phoenix with small flames jumping off. Being no bigger than a tennis ball, I let it hover over my palm for a moment and then I close my palm making the phoenix disappear into thin air and only leaving smoke behind in its place. I hear Kari whisper “wow” in the background. I smile with satisfaction that I actually had some control of what I was doing and that I had been able to form the phoenix successfully even if it looked like a tiny bird. I turn and move back to sit next to Kari and turn to Jacob.
“Now it is your turn to keep your side of the bargain.” I said smiling as I opened a water bottle.
“Of course, but I don’t think mine will be as good as yours.” He said in return.
He stations himself in the middle of the room as I did and prepares himself. Kari leans over and whispers, “That was great. You need to teach me how you did it.”
“Just concentrate.” I whisper back.
I turn my attention back to Jacob and see that he has raised both arms. Without breathing, I see wind moving slowly and wrapping around both of his hands. I hear his deep breathing and as he expands his hands in the opposite direction slowly, I see a small figure of a wolf starting to take shape. With his hands expanding in the opposite direction the wolf increases in size with the wind whirling around it furiously. The wolf is now at least two feet long, moving its tail and sniffing around. The objects in the room begin to blow in every direction due to the wind but Jacob is cautious and notices the sudden disturbance that he is causing. He crushes his hands together with such force that makes the wolf disappear and makes the papers in the room fly around like a tornado. He smiles at me and starts to pick the papers up from the floor. Out of breath of what just had happened Kari and I also start to help pick up the mess that Jacob had caused.
We finish and Jacob says, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I need more control. Next time it will be better. Trust me.”
“It’s okay. Everyone needs practice. No one is perfect.” I answer back smiling.
We look at each other until Kari speaks up, “You guys need to teach me how you just did that! You guys make my disks look wimpy. I need an animal to morph water into. But like what animal can I morph it into? A horse is so cliche, I need something cooler. I mean y’alls aren't cliche but like I want mine to be different. Please can you guys help me within the next 15 minutes of lunch left?”
“Of course we’ll help you, but what animal did you have in mind?” Jacob said turning his gaze at Kari and sitting next me on the bed.
“I was thinking about that and I thought it would be best if I tried morphing water into the shape of a whale.”
“All you have to do is put your mind to the figure of the whale and extend your hand from your body so the figure can grow into the shape. Remember stay focus and concentrate.” He said sternly.
The first three minutes were a torture for her as she kept trying and failing as she got the whale made but couldn’t seem to make it grow any bigger than a foot long. It started as a watery blob but then Kari progressed as she slowly added fins and a tail. As Kari progressed and failed in making her figure grow, Jacob and I just watched, commented her, and ate our lunch silently not talking to each other. Within ten minutes passing Kari succeeds in morphing water into a whale. “Wow” she whispers to herself when the whale is three feet long is flowing with water non-stop through out its body. She had succeeded in adding details as well. How? We do not know but she was able to grasp the concept fast. She then closes her palm and the whale slowly disappears leaving no water behind. Without warning she screams with joy scaring us both with one of her bear hugs. Releasing us from her hug the bell rings for fifth period class, Chemistry. We throw away our trash, grab our bags and leave the room with Kari leading us out the room.
We walk to Chemistry class and take our seats. We never learned anything in the class but we just had to pretend we were paying attention for Ms. Christenson never noticed if we did or did not. Class goes by ridiculously fast again. The day had gone from dragging on to going by fast. Everyone in class heads out to sixth period class which starts at 5:05pm. We all headed to Endowment Training and this was the only time where everyone was together.
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changarroo · 5 years
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The Bachelor // Part One
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❖ summary: Little did Han Jisung know he had a close encounter with you previously and you know exactly what it is like, the games he likes, the way he flirts, and you were not just a regular girl to fall for the one and only Bachelor 
❖ a/n: Hey Nicki here, I have written so many short stories I want to share but I want them to be perfect but I decided it was time to give a full au! This is really fun to write and many more parts to come. Also, I’ve never fully watched the bachelor so admin solo is guiding me along the way haha. I really hope you enjoy and I will but my own little twist on it
❖ word count: 1.5k
❖ genre: romance, angst, and fluff
“Alright man this is it” Colton the host speaks “Yeah, that…is pre-game jitters. I’m ready to go” Jisung speaks and runs his hands together “I hope you’re ready to go because the first limo is pulling up the driveway right now, Jisung good luck,” Colton says “Thank you” Jisung shakes hands with him as the Limo got closer Colton walked off Jisung turns around and adjusts his suit jacket as he could hear the ladies let off a soft scream
Four months back
“Y/N you need a man,” your friend says as she hands off your bed watching you cram in homework “I can’t I’m so close to graduation… I don’t want any distractions” You day and your friend coughs “Well too late for that” she mumbled and you turn around slowly “What the hell did you do?” You say trying to be as calm as you can “I may have sorta applied you to be a contestant for the most eligible bachelor their is out there” Your mouth hung open and you got up and ran over to her and started to choke her “You did what. You want me to be embarrassed on national television… how could you” She grabs your hand “calm down. That’s if you even make it through auditions” You nod and slowly calm down “I’m so shy and I get nervous and I’m clumsy… how could you” your heart started to race. You kept up with the bachelor’s because it was exciting to watch so you knew this season Han Jisung… a twenty-two-year-old self-made billionaire would be looking for love. You wanted to throw up “I think I’m going to be sick” Once the limo finally approached him Jisung waves cutely with a wide blushing smile The door was opened and the first contestant comes out “Hi Colton I’m Demi nice to meet you” She was a perky cheerful girl and walked with a little bounce. She wore a yellow dress with a simple beige heels “How are you?” Jisung asks as he hugged her “I’m good how are you?” She asks back “I’m good. I love that color” referring to her dress “Oh thank you Vandana Yellow… so I have not dated a virgin since I was twelve” she says bluntly “but I’m excited to give it another shot” Jisung just looks down at her and smiles “Alright I love that yes” She hugs him again “I already feel welcome” He smiles as she leaves Jisung sighs “oh boy I’m in trouble” after a few deep breaths the next contestant walks out “How are you!?” She comes out very cheerful “I’m great. How are you?” They hugged “I’m good.., well I’m Kailyn” She steps back and smiles “It’s so nice to meet you” He says and smiles widely as he looks at her up and down “It’s amazing to finally meet you. So I’m Miss California but I’m looking for a better title” she turns the sash around and it says “Mrs. Han” Jisung laughs with her as she gets shy “Wow I love that. It is awesome” “ I’m looking forward to talking to you” they hug one last time Jisung follows her inside “She is Gorgeous”
The day of the interview you were shitting yourself, you could not believe that the day had come and you were going to be interviewed and possibly have them show parts of your daily life. You were number 45 and you looked at all the girls “there is no way I’m going to get picked. I don’t stand a chance” you kept losing your confidence as more and more girls show up. They went by quickly and you chatted with a few girls and got good energy from a lot of them but that was now but when it came to the show there would be jealousy and tension “Yeah, my best friend actually did this. She says I need to go out and try new things but I didn’t think she would go this far” you giggle a little “Oh girl I’ve been trying to get in this show for years and now that it is Han I’m so ready” See what no one really new is that you had done an internship as his company before and have had a few chats with him but when the family got toxic and your mom got sick you pulled away and went back to schooling “45” You were still talking not hearing the number “45!” The man yells louder and you jump and stand up quickly “H-Hi” You smile nervously as girls snicker “She never has a chance” You look down at your outfit and sigh, you had on a nice romper with beige heels. You just ignore your thoughts and take a seat “Hi Y/N nice to meet you” The woman says “It’s lovely to meet you too” You respond and the questioning begins. They asked you questions about your life and what you do for a living and what are your aspirations for being on this show “Honestly I don’t know what I want for this show or with Mr. Han. My friend thought it would be a good idea for me to get out and explore my different options of men. I stay at home and studied as well as work” She answers honestly as the woman nods “Thank you for your time” You turn and look at them “one last thing although I may not be a supermodel status I believe all women should have a fair chance. Not just eye candy” You walk out and smile to the girl you were talking too “you got this. It will be your time”
“How are you doing?” Jisung asks as you approached “Hi, I’m good how are you?” You were very shy as you approached him “I’m good, I'm good” He was staring at you intensely “I’m Y/N” you approach him “I’m Jisung” He leans down and hugged you He was a lot taller than you so he had to bend down and hug you “What do you have?” He asked referring to the box in your hand You take a deep breath “I’m so nervous right now” Your hands were a little shaky and you giggle “I am too” Jisung answers honestly liking how comfortable he can be with you but he didn’t understand “I have so many butterflies” You look at him “No I literally have butterflies” You open the box and he holds his hands out and smiles as he played with the butterflies and you bumped the box “No more butterflies” That was signaling that you were no longer nervous “Okay I’m still a little nervous” You look down “No, I love it” He walked her halfway which was different and he smiles “That was awesome” As you head inside you wipe your hands and smile as you enter the building to see the two girls that made fun of you at the interview and they were shocked to see you. You wore a white dress with pretty small flowers with wedges and you took a seat and looked around and saw the girl you spoke with at the audition interview “Oh my gosh Y/N! You are here” she squeals happily You look up and see her and couldn’t be happier to see a familiar face “He’s so stunning right” she fans herself “Girl you are too much but indeed he is a handsome man” you say as the last ten girls pile in and they all take and seat and Jisung comes to the front and smiles making eye contact with you “Welcome ladies to the bachelor I am your host Colton and with me is the very handsome and eligible Han Jisung” You watch all the girls get excited all though you were rather calm. Yes, he was very handsome but he is just a male at the end of the day, nothing changes that besides him having money of course but you could care less about that. The man speaks before the rose ceremony begins “So we have given Jisung 10 roses and from there he will choose his ten to stay and the other six will head home” Colton spoke and the girls looked worried and you rubbed Katlyins’ arm “He is going to pick you” She holds your hand “I hope he picks you as well” Katlyin gives your hand a squeeze The whole time Jisung was watching you and smiled to himself “The first rose goes to” Jisung pauses and grabs the rose “Y/N” You look up and look at him and everyone claps and Kaitlyn was so happy “Go hurry” She pushed you a little and you approach him taking the rose and he places his hand on top of yours “Congratulations” He looks at you for a while before you took the rose and stood next to him, as he continued to call the names “And finally Kaitlyn” You smiled so happily as she took the rose and smiled widely waving the rose at you and you nod You take a deep breath to yourself because you could tell this was going to be one hell of an emotional roller coaster
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emma-nation · 5 years
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Without You - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 13) *For You Sequel* - Ending
Summary: Gaius is back. While coming up with a plan to take him down, the gang must deal with some new life-changing events.
Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance
Rating: T - Warning for violence and language
Tag List: @begging-for-kamilah, @lulu-the-cat, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @zoe6111, @kennaxval (If you want to be tagged in future chapters/fics of this pairing let me know!)
Notes:
- English is my second language, please forgive me for any mistakes.
- Hope you enjoy it this story as much as I enjoyed to write it, your reviews and likes are always appreciated. If you want a third part, to know more about the future of our gang, leave ‘yes’ in the comments.
Kamilah
The last few days had been unusually peaceful. Never in her 2064 years of life, Kamilah had felt so in peace before. Gaius was finally gone, she had been declared innocent in the investigations against her company and the last Council meeting was the most civilized, since it was founded. Lysimachus was chosen to seat on The Baron’s chair. Though he wasn’t thrilled about being a Clan leader, he had a mission in mind: to travel across the country and then to the rest of the world, seeking for vampires that were forced to live hidden in the shadows, or under inhumane situations, and make them part of his clan.
And now, she was finishing getting dressed for the wedding. Her own wedding with Amy. She had never really considered that possibility before. Back in Egypt, she always had other goals in mind. As for her past lovers, it was always forbidden or ‘too soon’, until they ended up dead or running away when they found out she was a Vampire. With Amy it was different, everything happened naturally. Though she completely rocked her world since her move to the penthouse, Kamilah felt completely comfortable in her presence. She brought everything that was missing in her life. With Amy, she felt complete.
Lysimachus entered the room, wearing a fancy black suit and that annoying modern haircut Kamilah hated. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was unable to.
“S-Sister… y-you look…” with difficult, Kamilah was able to distinguish some words, “mother would be so proud of you.”
“Can you please not do that?” She noticed his eyes were getting teary. “And especially that?”
“Okay,” Lysimachus recomposed himself, taking a deep breath. “I’m here to know if you’re ready, the ceremony is about to start."
She suddenly felt a weird sensation in her stomach. Something she hadn't felt since her mortal years.
"Y-Yes... of course," she sighed deeply. "How's everything going in the backyard?"
"Amy's mother was trying to boss on some of the employees, especially in the kitchen," Lysimachus told. "But everything's under control now. I assigned Matsuo for the security and he's drove her back to the guest area."
Kamilah rolled her eyes. Amy’s mother was determined to cause trouble until the last minute, hoping her daughter would change her mind and give up on the wedding.
“Sister, before we go,” Lysimachus grabbed something from his pocket, “I’d like to give you this as my wedding gift.”
It was a bracelet. Kamilah took it in her hands, recognizing it from somewhere in her past. It couldn’t be...
“I found it when I escaped Gaius and returned to Egypt to look for you. It was hidden somewhere in the house we used to live.”
The bracelet belonged to their mother. When she was a child, Kamilah would secretly take it all the time, to wear around her tiny thin arms. Her mother would patiently retrieve it and tell her she’d give her when she was an adult, on her wedding day.
She had no words to say. Instead, she involved her brother in the tightest of the hugs, before wearing the bracelet.
“Now it finally fits,” he smiled, wiping a single tear that streamed across her cheek.
Her twin brother offered her his arm and together they headed downstairs, to the backyard of the house, where everything was set. The decorations were exactly like Kamilah ordered, same as the flower arrangements and the lights. Lysimachus walked her down the aisle until the altar, where he stood right next to her.
Now, all she had to do was wait for Amy's arrival...
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Amy
“Amy, stop crying,” Lily sobbed. “You’ll ruin your make-up.”
“I will, Lil. Once you stop too...” They hugged each other again, for the tenth time in that evening. In a mix of overwhelmed emotions and an empty bottle of champagne.
Priya rolled her eyes from a couch where she was sitting at, snapping pictures of Amy's dress.
"Come on, can you two stop with all this drunk sappiness? You'll ruin my dress!" She scowled. "I'm gonna break the internet tonight. Hashtag Lacroix Weddings!"
Another figure paced around the suite anxiously, Amy's mother.
"Honey, don't cry," she caressed her daughter's arms. "There's still time to give up, if you want. I can speak to the..."
"Mom! Who said I'm giving up? I'm nervous and happy and... oh my god, am I going to be a good wife for Kamilah? She's so damn perfect and I'm just... me."
Priya appeared behind her, her sharp nails gripping on her shoulder.
"Or you could marry me instead," she looked to Amy's mother and grinned. "The marriage wouldn't last for too long, I can assure you."
The woman looked at the Fashion Designer in disgust.
Amy checked herself on the mirror again, reminiscing about her first days in New York. She could never imagine getting a job at Raines Corporation and that in her very first day, she'd meet the love of her life. At first, Kamilah Sayeed was a puzzle, surrounded by tall and tough walls. Slowly, she started putting them down, allowing Amy to be part of her loneliness, know her deepest secrets and awake feelings that had been dormant for centuries.
Amy had changed a lot herself. Though she was still the same impulsive girl from one year earlier, she felt more mature, more strong, more conscious... things she could only learn from Kamilah.
Ready to go, she followed Lily downstairs of the Hamptons house. Since she arrived, she hadn't seen much of the decorations yet, she had no time. Now, she was amazed. Kamilah wasn't lying when she said she'd give her the wedding of her dreams.
Lily and Priya followed to the altar, while her father conducted her through the aisle. Looking at the small crowd around her, she felt her heart racing inside her chest. Her hands began to shake cold.
Then, for the first time in hours, her eyes crossed with Kamilah's. She looked impressively gorgeous, waiting for her. The female Vampire opened the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. For a moment, Amy could swear she was controlling herself to not cry. When they finally met, Kamilah held her hands tightly and reassuring. In that moment she felt more safe than ever.
"You look perfect," she whispered in her ear.
"And so do you," Amy kissed her cheek.
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Lysimachus
Lysimachus smiled broadly, watching as his sister and Amy kissed after pronouncing their vows and signing the papers. They were now officially married.
"By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you wife and wife,” the judge announced. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Kamilah went for a small and respectful kiss, not wanting to cause any more trouble with Amy’s family. Amy, on other hand, wrapped her arms around her neck, deepening it to a heated and passionate kiss. The crowd, except for her parents and closer relatives, cheered. Lysimachus exchanged a look with his sister and grinned. He had never seen her so happy in his entire life.
The party started, after Kamilah and Amy had their first dance by themselves, the guests of honor were invited to join. He observed the others first, Jax partnered with Lily, Adrian with Amy’s closest cousin and even Lester managed to arrange himself with Amy’s aunt. On the other side of the room, Priya was staring at him.
“May I have the honors?” He extended his hand.
“Took you long enough,” she complained. “I confess I was about to pursue Amy’s brother. He’s quite a snack.”
“For God’s sake, he’s still in college.”
“He could learn a thing or two from the best.”
He enjoyed the dance, though Priya was purposely doing moves to exhibit herself for the photographers.
“Broke the internet already?” He wanted to know.
“Yes!” She grinned. “I gained at least a thousand new followers so far. And my name is also trending!”
As the dancing ended, Amy and Kamilah stood in the middle of the room, when the girl made an announcement.
“Single ladies and gentleman, time to throw our bouquets. May the best win!”
Lysimachus took a step back, leaving space for most of the guests to join that wild contest. Priya joined him.
“What?” He teased. “Don’t you want to be the next one?”
“Not until I get old and irrational, as your sister became.”
Amy was the first one, her bouquet was about to land on Lily’s hand, when someone took the front, Lester. The male vampire smiled and celebrated, asking who was willing to become Mrs. Castellanos. Amy’s youngest friends all exchanged disgusted looks.
Kamilah was next. She closed her eyes and threw her bouquet. Lysimachus watched as it started coming in their direction, right to Priya’s hand.
“No. Way. In. Hell,” she deflected it, sending it back to the crowd, to Adrian’s hand. “Oh, here goes Wife Number 3...” she sighed.
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Lysimachus
Some time later, he was standing alone with a drink in hands. With Gaius finally gone, what future held for himself? Marriage wasn’t even in his plans. While he enjoyed working for Raines Corporation, he desired more. He missed the action and adrenaline of the nights he spent hunting.
Hunting vampires was no longer an option. He was one of them now. He accepted this life and this condition. His mission now, was to save vampires who were living in inhumane conditions, because of evil beings like Gaius.
“Mr. Sayeed?” An employee came to him. “Somebody asked me to deliver you this letter.”
“Huh?” Lysimachus opened the letter confused. Someone that he heard about his skills as Vampire Hunter was requesting his help, in New Orleans. The letter was signed with a ‘-K’. “Who is the sender?” He asked.
“She was right there.”
He looked to the pointed direction, observing a young woman with magenta hair, she was wearing a sparkly blue dress. As she noticed he was staring, she raised her glass and disappeared, before he could even reach her.
"What's wrong, Hunter?" Priya placed a hand on his shoulder. "It looks like you've seen a ghost."
"N-Nothing, just a job opportunity I was offered," he told.
"Forget that," she whispered in his ear. "Because I have a much better offer to make you."
"Oh really?" He raised one eyebrow.
Priya grabbed his hand, dragging him to one of the multiple bedrooms of the house. She pressed herself on his body, slamming him hard against the door. He cupped her face, pulling her for a feverish kiss. His tongue battling hers for dominance.
As her hands ran through his abdomen, ripping off each layer of clothing, her fangs nipped hard on his lower lip, drawing some blood. Her long nails dragged across his muscular chest, until reaching the waistband of his pants, where she unbuckled his belt, lowering herself on him.
Lysimachus closed his eyes, enjoying the movements of her mouth and swirls of her tongue. His breath fastened, indicating he was close from climax. Priya slowed down completely, when he opened his eyes, Lysimachus noticed something with the corner of his eye. Someone by the window.
"What the..." he pushed Priya away and lunged in the man's direction, noticing he was a paparazzi.
"P-Please..." he begged. "D-Don't hurt me... I'm only doing what I was paid for!"
Lysimachus took the camera from his hands, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Then, he looked at Priya.
"Did you do it, Priya?" He questioned. "Did you call the paparazzi to the party?"
"What's a wedding without a scandal?" She smirked. "Besides, Kamilah was stealing my spotlight. People were only commenting..."
"I can't honestly believe that. I thought you had changed! You were using me, after all I've done to you."
"Hunter, I appreciate it, really. You're hot and kinda turns me on but... let's be honest, my fame and popularity will always come first."
He slammed the door shut, leaving her alone. After getting a new shirt to wear, he grabbed an entire bottle of whiskey and sat down at the sand, staring the ocean.
"One more shot of bad decisions?" A female voice was coming to his direction. The same woman from earlier.
"Who are you and what do you want from me?" He clenched his jaw.
"Ouchie, bloodsucker. Chill out," she took the bottle from his hand, taking a sip. "Name's Katherine. We have more in common than you think, I'm a Nighthunter."
Lysimachus had heard about Nighthunters before, but his target was always another. He focused on Vampires only, while they were hired to protect mortals and valuable artifacts from every kind of supernatural creatures and evil magic.
"We're having some trouble in New Orleans with a Bloodwraith. I've heard about your skills and your knowledge. What do you say?"
He was thoughtful for a brief moment, considering all the adventures and new experiences he could get. He gazed into Katherine's deep brown eyes.
"When are we leaving?" He asked.
"Tomorrow."
"Sign me in," he extended his hand. "Let's kill this thing."
Katherine smirked and shook his hand.
"So, how did you heard about my skills?"
"A girl I knew. One named Zoe."
In silence, they finished the bottle of whiskey. There was no better way to honor his best friend's memory than accepting this opportunity.
----------
Kamilah
A small smile appeared on Kamilah's face as she observed Amy dancing with her friends. As long as her wife was happy and safe, she was happy too. She couldn’t quite follow their moves or even enjoy most of the songs they were dancing to. She left it up to Amy to decide everything related to music. From their first dance song, to all the rest.
“Aren’t you coming to dance with me?” Her young wife approached, clearly under the effect of alcohol.
“I can’t quite follow these moves,” Kamilah told, kissing her forehead.
“Just a second.”
Amy went to the DJ, asking for a romantic pop ballad. She returned and grabbed Kamilah’s hand, pulling her to the middle of the room.
Kamilah pulled her close, holding her by the waist, while Amy rested her head on her shoulder. The slowly swayed together to the rhythm of the song.
“Thank you so much, Kamilah,” Amy said. “For all of this, I mean. You gave me the wedding of my dreams.”
“It’s the least you deserve,” Kamilah finally felt comfortable calling someone that way again. “my love.”
The party ended when the sun was about to rise and as Kamilah drove them back to their penthouse, Amy felt asleep on the passenger seat. She took her in her arms and carried her to their bed.
“Good night, little firefly,” she whispered in her ear.
After finally getting out of her dress, she took a warm and long shower and laid next to Amy, enjoying a invigorating sleep. She woke up hours later, with Amy nowhere to be found.
“Amy?” She got up, looking for her everywhere. She found her sitting down under the shower, sobbing.
“I ruined everything!” Kamilah looked at her puzzled. “It’s only our first day together and I’ve already ruined everything!”
“But... why? What have you done wrong?”
“I drank too much and I fell asleep... you know, it was our wedding night. We were supposed to... I had even bought this special underwear for you!”
Kamilah let out a chuckle.
“Amy, that’s alright. We have plenty of time to make it up for it. I was really tired too.”
“It won’t be the same.”
The girl left the shower, with a pained expression on her face. Kamilah went to the kitchen and prepared them some breakfast, and a tea that was supposed to help with Amy's hangover. After that, she decided to cheer up her wife's mood, suggesting they should open some presents.
"Mine first," she handed Amy a small package.
"Kamilah, you didn't have to!" She finally opened a smile. "You've already given me so much!"
She opened it, to find out a golden necklace with a small and delicate pendant of a little firefly.
"This is so... lovely!" She involved Kamilah in a tight embrace, before giving her a present.
Kamilah opened it, to find a rare book she had been looking for about the Ancient Egypt. One that had a few records about her family.
"A-Amy, where did you find it? I-It must have costed a lot!"
"When I was in London, I've made some friends in the library and they kinda helped me."
After thanking her with a quick and gentle kiss, they continued to enjoy themselves with the presents they received. Most of them were items for home, and since Kamilah had all of them, they decided to donate for families in need.
There was one box to be opened, one that looked quite exotic.
"Who's this from?" Amy asked. "Do you have any idea?"
As she finished opening the package, Kamilah reached for a small card, hanging on it.
"Kamilah, enjoy it with your wife, while you practice the lessons you've learned at your Bachelorette party. XoXo, Priya"
Memories of a night she desired to forget suddenly returned to her mind. The educational places Priya took her, where she had freaky lessons of how to use each one of those... objects. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Whoa," Amy exclaimed, staring at the content of the package. "I don't even know where I'm supposed to put some of these..."
"W-We don't have to figure out... right?" She quickly closed the box.
"But..."
"I'd rather keep things more... traditional."
"Only the fuzzy handcuffs and the foreplay dices," Amy made the puppy dog eyes Kamilah hated, because she was unable to resist them. "Please?"
She rolled her eyes and agreed.
----------
Amy
Amy spent the rest of her Sunday in bed. Besides still being tired, she felt sick from all the alcohol she consumed. Kamilah was being the most lovely and supportive wife, providing all the care she needed.
On Monday, when she woke up, Kamilah was waiting for her in the living room, accompanied by her lawyer.
"I need you to sign some papers," she told.
"What is it about?" Amy asked, confused.
"I'm giving you half of my assets on Ahmanet Financial."
"K-Kamilah, but..."
"You're my wife now, Amy," she wrapped an arm around her waist. "And I intend to give you only the best."
Indeed, the next thing Amy received was a new credit card, linked to Kamilah's bank account, with no limits. She also granted her the best health insurance plan available.
To make it up for the day they lost, the female vampire planned them a special dinner. When they arrived at the building's garage, Kamilah stopped in front of a car Amy wasn't familiar with.
"Whose car is that?" She asked. "Lysimachus'?"
Kamilah handed her a keychain.
"No, it's yours. I don't want my wife walking around the city, vulnerable and unprotected."
At the restaurant, Amy was still in silence. It was too much. She was thankful for all the gifts Kamilah gave her but, she didn't want to sound like she was taking advantage on her financial condition.
"Please, don't tell me you've bought the restaurant too?"
"No," Kamilah answered. "This isn't my favorite. There's one in..."
"Kamilah, I mean, I love you and I love being your wife but... it's too much! I don't want people to think I'm opportunistic, that I've only married you because of your money."
"Amy," Kamilah spoke, softly and calm. "You're my first and only wife. I'm going to spoil you, you want it or not."
"Okay," Amy sighed. "But we're done with surprises for today, right?"
"Maybe," the female vampire grinned mischievously.
A couple of hours later, she had both of her hands pinned above her head. Kamilah had her eyes red and fangs exposed.
"Did you thought, darling..." her fingernails dragged across Amy's chest, ripping off her shirt, "that you could've been loved by a vampire? That it'd end well for you?" Kamilah whispered in a seductive tone. "This isn't a teenage romance book, my dear. This is real life.
"P-Please don't hurt me! I'm only a small town girl, searching for a job... I-I can give you anything you want!"
"Anything?" Kamilah raised her eyebrows. Amy nodded. "Undress me," she demanded.
Amy did as told, slowly and teasingly removing each piece of clothing Kamilah was wearing, until she was fully naked.
"On your knees," she demanded next. Amy obeyed. "Now, please me."
Amy started by kissing her lips hungrily, finishing it with small nibbles on her lower lip. Then she moved to her jawline and her neck, giving some small bites along the way. She felt Kamilah's nails scratching her back, causing a mix of pleasure and a little pain.
"I'm the only one who bites here, understand?"
Amy followed her way to her stomach and tights, until she lowered herself completely on Kamilah. She moved her tongue in a provoking manner, to make her wish for more. Kamilah attempted to hold her head in place, but she had other tricks in mind... something she discreetly took from Priya's gift. As she slipped it inside Kamilah, the vampire let out a cry.
"I told you to please me, not..." she gasped, as Amy pressed a button in the remote control she had in hands. "Make it... stop..." Amy fastened it to the ultimate speed, leading Kamilah to the extreme of her pleasure. "Please!"
She finally stopped. Finishing the job herself, using both her tongue and fingers. Kamilah arched her back, collapsing in pleasure.
Seconds later, she was on top of Amy. Her red vampire eyes looking more intimidating than ever.
"You shouldn't have done that, mortal! You'll regret..."
"Then punish me!" Amy shouted.
Kamilah handcuffed her again and blindfolded her. Amy enjoyed the suspense of not knowing that she was about to do next. She was caught by surprise, when Kamilah bit her neck, drawing some blood. She didn't feel pain, only pleasure. As she fed, her nails digged on her stomach's skin, sending shivers all through her body. She felt Kamilah's leg pressed against her center. She rocked her hips a little, taking advantage of the position.
"Oh, are you enjoying this, mortal?" Kamilah asked.
"Y-Yes..."
"Then let's torture you a little bit..."
Kamilah moved her mouth to the most sensitive area of her body, sucking, kissing and devouring her, over and over again, but never letting her finish.
"P-Please... I'm begging you for mercy..."
"We have no mercy, my dear. We're heartless monsters."
"Then end this! Finish me!"
"As you wish!" Kamilah straddled her, making the contact between their bodies as close as possible. Amy wrapped her legs around her and she rocked her hips expertly, driving them both to bliss at the same time.
Later, Amy laid her head on her chest. Smiling ear to ear.
"We need to do this vampire/victim roleplay more often."
"Next time I'm going to chase you and give you five seconds to escape."
"Whoa... I'm trembling in fear. The big bad vampire wants all of me!"
"She definitely does," Kamilah rolled on top of her, nuzzling her neck and making her giggle. "Oh, there's one cliche we're missing."
"Oh, I remember now," Amy agreed, changing the tone of her voice to something more serious and dramatic. "You're impossibly fast, and strong. Your skin is perfectly smooth. Your eyes change color, and sometimes you speak like you're from a different time. You don't go out in the sunlight without this ring... How old are you, Kamilah Sayeed?"
"Thirty," Kamilah did an expressionless face.
"How long have you been thirty?" "A very long time." "I know what you are," Amy firmly spoke. "Say it. Out loud," Kamilah asked. "Say it!" "Vampire." "Are you afraid?" "No."
"Well..." Kamilah gazed deeply into her eyes. "You should!" She started tickling Amy all over again, making the girl laugh until she was breathless.
Amy held her tightly against her chest.
"I'm loving being your wife."
"It's only day two. We have a long road ahead of us."
"Kamilah?" Amy tangled her fingers on Kamilah's hair. "About this, there's one last gift I want from you."
"Whatever you wish, my love."
"Turn me."
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