#I am in the 'ignoring God' part of this journey

[identitty-dickruption]

just spent an hour fleshing out my "disability in the bible" point in my thesis and. like. it's only really an aside as it is. but the pull of biblical studies is once again so so strong. rip

[themyscirah]

This is how this went right?

Parallax!Hal: I miss being a hero... wish I had my ring back

Kyle: oh well you can have mine then! That way you can have a second chance : )

Parallax!Hal: YES!!! A SECOND CHANCE TO PLAY GOD AND RESHAPE THE WORLD AS I WILL IT MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Kyle, now ringless: .................huh. im gonna be honest here I really didn't see that coming

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Easy peasy premature ejaculation squeezy. Hypersexual!Simon/fem!reader, handjobs, premature ejaculation.

-

Ghost works his boxers back up his thick thighs and disappears into the en-suite bathroom in just them and his t-shirt. You definitely don’t check him out as he leaves. When he comes back, he has wiped his abs clean and holds an extra one in his hands. He has trouble meeting your eyes, but when he does, he gives a little self-deprecating smile that looks more like a wince. 

He’s still hard. 

“Is it always like this?” you ask. 

“Pretty much,” he says, sitting heavily on the bed. The bed frame is solid and sturdy, supporting him nicely. You shift, tucking your heels underneath you, feeling your underwear cling to the sticky wetness of your cunt. You do your best to ignore it. “It’s worse with someone here.” 

“How many times do you usually…you know.” You make a hand gesture. 

He purses his lips at your crudeness. “A day? Or in a session?”

God. He has sessions? “Both?”

“Two or three times a session. Two or three sessions a day, depending on how busy I am with work,” he says, coming to lay flat on the bed. He throws his arm over his eyes again. He shrugs a massive shoulder. “If it’s less than twice a day, I can’t really focus on anything else. It’s all my body wants and all I can think about.”

You frown. “That sounds terrible.” 

His hackles rise. “We don’t need to talk about it. That’s not what you’re here for.” 

“Right. Are you ready? Again?” 

“As I’ll ever fucking be,” he mutters, shucking his boxers down again and letting them rest around his knees. He’s definitely grown harder during your conversation together. His hands are shaking, so he clenches them into fists and rests them on his abs, taking a handful of deep, cleansing breaths. “Just—go on. Do as I said and stop when I say.” 

“Close your eyes while I lick my hand.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, but he shuts his eyes. You make sure to really slick your palm, spitting into it quietly—but he flinches at the sound as if it was a gunshot. 

Reaching out, you create a gentle, loose fist above his cock and slowly bring it down, enveloping the velvety head in your slick fist. His entire body goes tight, muscles clenching all over, teeth clicking as his jaw clamps shut. He is burning warm in your palm, smooth and soft as you drag your hand down his length to the base, letting the dark blond curls of his pubes tickle the meaty portion of your palm. He shudders violently, mouth falling open in a silent sound, eyes flickering rapidly beneath his lids. You realize now that you’re watching his face more than you’re watching his cock, but it is currently the more interesting of the two. 

Cock slicked by your saliva, the journey back up is a smooth slide. As soon as the crown of his cock enters the loose grip of your fist, Ghost flinches violently and barks out: “Stop!” 

One. 

You withdraw right away. His cock drools, precum oozing from the tip and dripping down the flushed length. He groans, grinding his palms against his eyes, and you have to swallow your own curse. This is the most arousing thing that’s ever happened to you—that you’ve ever been a part of, that is. 

Ghost takes nearly two full minutes to calm down properly, his chest going from full-on heaves to shaky rise-and-falls. He lets out a lengthy breath and moves his palms away from his eyes, casting you a dazed, exhausted look. He nods and shuts his eyes. 

You do the same thing all over again. He makes it through two full, slow strokes before he is telling you to stop again. Two. Despite his orders, his heels dig into the bed. His body chases your touch, pelvis lifting from the soft sheets, straining to follow your hand. He digs his fingers into his hair and pulls, knuckles white, using the pain to ground himself. 

“Again,” he croaks.  

You don’t have to slick your hand anymore; he is leaking, cock frequently giving eager twitches and jerks, like it is trying to tempt you to touch it. This time, you only manage to drag your fist halfway down the length of his cock before he is sucking in a breath and warning you off of him—and you make a mistake. Instead of letting go, you lift your hand off, inadvertently giving his sensitive head another pass through the slick passage of your fist. Ghost makes a guttural noise, reaches down to grip the base of his cock again, a touch that looks brutal with its ferocity. Three. 

“Don’t speak,” he begs at a whisper, eyes closed. “Don’t say a fucking thing, don’t even move, just—just—“

You sit in still silence, watching him struggle to hold off, wondering whether you really even want him to. You wouldn’t sabotage him (not intentionally, at least), but watching him cum earlier had awoken something twisted inside you. A part of you wanted to push his boundaries, to help him desensitize himself, to help him achieve his goal of normalcy. The other part of you wanted to ruin him. Did he realize that you were fighting a battle of your own, now? 

“That was way too fucking close,” he sighs, letting go of his cock. His eyes turn on you, dark and narrowed and nearly angry. “You’re supposed to stop when I say so.”

“It was an accident,” you say. “I’ll be more careful.” 

He grumbles something underneath his breath that you can’t quite catch, but looks resolved to his fate. He gives a stern nod, and this time he watches. You feel his eyes as tangible as any touch, stroking along the hills and valleys of your knuckles. You’re trembling a little as you bring your hand down around him. You’ve barely touched him when he makes a choked sound and bats your hand out of the way, body rising up onto one elbow as he grips at the base of his cock with his other hand—except it’s too late. You can tell by the look on his face, that pleasurable doom, that miserable capitulation. 

You meet eyes with each other, half a second’s worth of acknowledgement before he shuts his own, tucking his chin to his chest to avoid your gaze. You wait for him to let go, to ruin it again, but he doesn’t: with dextrous, devastating familiarity, he grips his cock and strokes it feverishly, the wet sounds barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat and frantic breaths as he finally spills over. It’s less explosive than his previous orgasm but appears no less devastating to him. Cum dribbles over his scarred knuckles, dripping down his angular wrist. He is near-silent, holding his breath, withholding his pleasured sounds from you. 

At length he drops back down to the mattress from his elbow, panting and red-faced, resting his dirty hand against his belly. 

“Fuck,” he sighs to the ceiling. 

“You lasted a lot longer that time,” you offer cheerfully. 

The look he gives you is the one the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was modeled after—you’re pretty sure. He reaches for the towel and offers it to you first. You wipe your palm and hand it back so that he can clean himself. He goes to pull up his boxers again, but you stop him. 

“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Aftermath

Summary: The aftermath of your arrival in Jackson and running back into Joel brings back emotions you thought you had moved on from.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, POV switch, bad break-up, talks about child birth, one steamy thought, flashbacks, Tommy being the protective bro, a surprise about the real relationship status of Joel and reader, Ellie being a dick (affectionate), Joel still being a mess and bad at feelings, but he's trying

A/N: still not exactly sure where I am going with this. Let me know what you think

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part two of invisible string

You didn’t think seeing him again after so many years, and after so much had happened would feel like this. 

Like finally being able to take a full breath after being under water for too long. 

You thought you’d be over it by now. Over him. 

It had been almost six years after all.

Yet it felt like it had been yesterday when you took one last look at him early in the morning with your little possessions packed and him passed out on the bed after another night of him drinking himself to sleep. 

But the moment you caught his wide eyes across the room now, it was 2010 all over again and you were the girl across the street who had dropped all the rations you had just picked up because some rude asshole walking into you, finding Joel looking at you with a hint of a smirk after you cursed the person out who had ran into you. 

Before you could realise it you had sat Ana down on the bench next to your brother who still had little Leo in his lap and were walking towards him, ignoring your brother calling after you.  

Joel looked at you like he’d seen a ghost. 

Deep in the night, when you were alone and your little family was asleep you imagined what it would be like if you’d ever meet Joel again. 

He had not only broken your heart that night you told him you were pregnant. 

He had broken a part of you that you hadn’t been able to repair. 

You tried to hate him, god did you try. 

You cursed him on your whole absolute suicidal journey back to your hometown close to Denver, your mind set on finding your brother who you had occasional contact to, since he was living in a community on the an military base, close to the Denver QZ.

You cursed Joel when you gave birth in the safety of an actual working hospital while your brother held your hand, wishing so much it was Joel who was supporting you through the birth of your child. 

You cursed him when you were surprised by not only one but two babies who you were now responsible for. 

You cursed and cursed and cursed him while you just could not stop loving him no matter how much you tried.  

Because you knew the man behind the version he had turned into in the months leading up to your break up. 

The man who was lashing out at you for things out of your control. The man who stayed away longer and longer until he didn’t come back home to your shared apartment at night. The man who never ever told you he loved you with his own words. 

Not when you were awake, but you did not know that he whispered his I love you’s every night against your forehead before he fell asleep. 

But he also was the man who always kept you in his arms when you were scared of a storm howling outside. The man who always kept one of his shirts out for you because he knew how much you loved to wear them. The man who had you on the verge of tears from the way he knew how to play your body night after night while he praised you what a good girl you were for him. 

He was the father of your children. 

And you loved him. 

You still loved him. 

You just weren’t sure if you could ever forgive him and trust him again. 

And just couldn’t stay with him back then while was busy destroying himself. Because it wasn’t just you anymore you had to take care of but the children growing inside of you. 

And so you left. All the way to Colorado, the Denver QZ and then to find you brother, finally finding him when you were almost eight months pregnant. And now you were in Jackson, Wyoming. 

The community you had spend the last years in having been overrun by a huge group of infected and your brother knowing about Jackson from the trading routes he went on regularly. 

You never thought you would see Joel ever again. Not that far away from Boston. 

And now he was here. And he was looking at you. And you were trying to decide if you would kill or kiss him when you saw him bend over, Tommy looking concerned and a girl not older than fifteen running across the room towards him.

„Joel?“ You whispered, your hand reaching out as if to touch him, but you decided against it, rubbing your sweaty palm against the fabric of the new jeans you had been gifted this morning. 

He blinked his eyes up at you in shock. 

„You’re here,“ he gasped and then he fell into the arms of his brother, who caught him before he could hit his head. Unconscious. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy groaned, trying to pull his brother up in his arms, the girl next to you pushing you away to help him. 

„Is he dead? Tommy? He can’t be dead. I am not ready being mad at him yet,“ she shook her head while helping Tommy slowly put him on the ground, people gathering around you now.

„He’s not dead, Ellie. He’s just….“ Tommy looked up at you for a moment before he looked at the girl, Ellie, again. 

„He’s just overwhelmed and had a panic attack. Can you please get Doc so we can get him to the clinic? Just to be sure?“ Tommy asked and you could feel how hesitant the girl was to leave him. 

Who was she?

„Fine,“ she mumbled and got back up, but not before looking at you with narrowed eyes. 

„This is your fault,“ she hissed and you were taken aback as she walked towards you, intimidating you. You heard Tommy call her name, but she didn’t stop and you stumbled back, unsure and if you were honest with yourself a little scared at the look the girl was giving you. 

You didn’t get far before you walked into someone, feeling a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to find your brother behind you. 

„Ellie!“ Tommy had now gotten up to walk in front of her. 

„Who is she? What did she do to Joel?“ Ellie asked him, her eyes still on you. 

Tommy sighed. 

„She’s Joel’s wife.“

The ring Joel had put on your ring finger during a winter storm in December of 2012 didn’t sit on your finger anymore. 

You had to take it off somewhere between the fifth and sixth month of your pregnancy, your fingers swelling. It had made its way to the chain around your neck where you kept it since that day next to the heart your mother had gifted to you when you were seven years old.

The only thing you had left from her.  

It was a habit of yours to play with the ring as soon as you got anxious since then. 

You were in the clinic now, not sure what you were doing here. 

After Joel had been brought to the clinic last night Tommy thought it was for the best that you stayed back while you weren’t even sure if you wanted to go and see him. 

So you had taken your kids home where your brother helped tuck them in before he disappeared into his own room, but only after kissing your forehead and telling you that everything was gonna be okay and that if you wanted to talk he would be there. 

He knew everything about you and Joel. 

And you were pretty sure at some point he would tell Joel exactly what he thought about his behaviour that led to you practically fleeing from him while being pregnant. 

But that would wait. 

First you had to figure out what to do. 

Part of you wanted to hide from the world. 

But you had two very excited kids who wanted to go to school this morning. Kids that thankfully did not witness anything that happened the night before thanks to your brother and their future teacher who had helped settle you in. 

You were pretty sure your brother had a crush on her.

So now, after you brought your kids to school and spend two hours telling yourself that you could leave them there, that they were safe, you had Maria walk you towards the clinic where apparently Joel was still resting. 

Tommy and the girl you had seen yesterday, Ellie, were waiting in front of a closed door when you walked in and they both looked up at you when you entered. 

Tommy gave you a tired smile before he kissed his wife’s cheek as she walked over to him. 

„How is he?“ Maria asked. 

„Worst patient ever. He’s getting released this morning,“ Tommy said and you nodded, still uncertain if you should stay or leave, your fingers finding the ring resting on the chain over your heart, playing with it. 

„I should leave before he gets out,“ Ellie said. 

„Ellie, please. I’m sure he wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and Ellie rolled her eyes. 

„Should have thought about that before he did what he did,“ she grunted, looking up at you. You got the impression that there was some kind of a story between her behaviour towards Joel. Not that you were interested in finding out more about it. 

Because you were not family. 

Not anymore. 

You weren’t sure what you and Joel were anymore if you were anything at all. Not for a long time. 

„Guess now that he has her back, he won’t need me anymore anyway,“ she said as she walked past you and out of the clinic. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his forehead in frustration. 

„Really looking forward to Sammy becoming a Teenager one day,“ Tommy groaned and Maria smiled softly, pulling her arm around Tommy’s waist. 

You had met little Sammy yesterday as Tommy introduced you to his little family. 

„Thankfully we have almost ten years to prepare for that,“ Maria said and he nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at her before he looked at you again. 

„He wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

„And I would feel better if it happens here where a doctor is close by after last night,“ he said jokingly but you could hear some truth behind it. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers still playing with the ring on the chain. 

You should go. Maybe you should leave Jackson and find somewhere else, which you knew you wouldn’t. From what you had seen since getting here, the community was close to perfect, but you just didn’t know how you would be able to live somewhere with Joel close by. 

Did he still hate you?

Would he want to meet your children?

No. No he wouldn’t. If he would have wanted to be in the life of your kids, he would not have reacted the way he did back then and then ignored you for a full week after until you decided to leave. 

You were about to tell Tommy that you couldn’t face him when the door behind him opened and Joel stepped out with a younger woman who had to be the doctor, who instructed Joel sternly to take it easy for a couple of days. 

He whispered your name as he looked at you and you released a shaky breath. 

There suddenly was a tension in the air as you both looked at each other. 

„Can we… Can we talk?“ Joel asked. 

You only nodded, seeing him breath out in relief before he stepped back into the room. You looked at Tommy who gave you an encouraging smile, before you followed Joel into the room and closed the door behind you. 

The first thing Joel noticed when his eyes blinked open was that there was a crack in the ceiling of the room he was laying in that he should take a look at. He groaned, stretching his tired muscles turning his head around to find his brother sitting on a chair next to the bed he was laying in, his eyes on him. 

Was he at the… clinic?

Did he get hurt?

He was about to check his own body for injuries when the memories came floating back. 

You.

With a girl in your lap. 

A man next to you. 

With a boy in his lap. 

He sucked air in and Tommy’s hand came to rest on his arm. 

„Easy, brother,“ he said and Joel fixed his eyes on his brother, mirroring the way he was breathing slowly, calming himself down. 

„She’s really here?“ Joel asked and Tommy nodded. 

"Arrived an hour after you went on patrol two days ago. With her two kids and brother,“ Tommy stressed the last word and Joel closed his eyes. 

„Brother,“ he repeated. 

„Jep. You know you never really told me why she left,“ he began, before he pressed his lips into a line, slowly shaking his head and as Joel opened his eyes to look at his brother he wondered when Tommy had gotten the same look down that their Dad had when he was disappointed in his children. 

„Can’t fuck with the Miller genes. Leo looks like you when you were a boy,“ Tommy said. 

Leo. 

The boy’s name was Leo. 

His son’s name was…. No. He didn’t deserve that title. Not after….

„Did you know that she was pregnant?“ Tommy asked. 

Joel audibly breathed out. 

„Yeah. Yeah I did,“ he confessed, looking everywhere but at his brother, shame settling deeply in his gut. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy shook his head. 

„I fucked up. There’s no excuse. I lashed out and fucked it all up. I fucked up the only good thing…“ he stopped, feeling the tears in his eyes. 

They were silent for a while, until there was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in, asking if he was ready to get out of here, which Joel confirmed with a sigh. 

She asked Tommy to leave so she could check Joel over. 

He watched Tommy get up, walking out of the room. But just before he exited he turned around, his eyes fixed on his brother. 

„Maria is bringing her over in a bit. I recon you wanna talk to her?“ Tommy asked and Joel nodded. 

„Don’t be an asshole again. Or you gonna have a problem with me,“ he nodded at Joel and he nodded back. 

You hadn’t been in a room alone with Joel in almost six years. 

You didn’t know how to be alone with him anymore. 

There was a part that wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him, but there was the bigger part of you that wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and hide from him. 

It was like some weird kind of PTSD that now connected being in a room alone with Joel with getting your heart broken, leaving every cell in your body bracing for heartbreak. 

„I can’t believe you’re here,“ he said as he leaned against the wall across from you, his hands behind his back, making himself small.

You stayed at the door, needing a quick way to get out of here if you needed to. 

He looked older. Tired. His hair almost as long as Tommy’s, now more salt than pepper in it. And there still was that perfect patch in his beard that grew no hair. A spot you had kissed more often than you could count in the past. 

You found him looking at you as you tried to form words. 

„I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t think I would ever see you again,“ you said, voice quiet and he nodded. 

„Don’t think it’s a happy occasion for you, huh?“ He sighed, before he cursed under his breath. 

Before you could say something he continued. 

„That day…. The day you told me you were pregnant…. The way I reacted… Sorry isn’t enough of a word. I’d go on my knees to beg you for forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it. I never deserved you,“ he whispered the last sentence and you closed your eyes, fighting down the tears. 

„Joel, do you think I would have married you, if I thought you did not deserve me? I loved you. You. With all your flaws. I never understood why you thought you had to prove yourself worthy of me. I just wanted you to love me,“ you said softly. 

„I did love you. I still do… I just….“ He stopped, seemingly searching for what to say next while you looked at him with big eyes. 

„You love me?“ You asked, perplexed. 

He looked at you like you grew a second head. 

„Of course I do,“ he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Sucking your bottom lip in, you looked at him while your fingers went back to the ring that rested on the chain around your neck, seeing Joel’s eyes follow your hand, recognising what you held in your hand. 

„You never told me before,“ you whispered, the room suddenly feeling to small. 

„I know,“ he said, voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the clock hanging on the wall, eyes widening. 

„I… I have to go. I have to pick up…. I have to pick up the twins….“ You mumbled already turning around, your hand on the door handle.

„Twins?“ You heard him ask behind you and you nodded without turning around. 

„What are their names?“ He asked softly and your shoulders fell as you took a deep breath. 

„Leo and Ana Miller. After my dad and your mom,“ you whispered before you opened the door and walked out. 

[themisplaceddemigod]

i'm immortal, i can wait

PJ!Apollo x F!Reader

summary - Apollo has loved you since he first saw you, but he's had to wait several years before he could make such a confession. Especially since you're the child of his scariest uncle, Poseidon.

warnings - Apollo is his own warning. that and his haikus, also i am KEEPING JASON ALIVE in the Trials of Apollo part of this (curse you Rick)

He met you in person when you were fourteen.

Westover Hall, you had been summoned to collect two demigod kids with your brother Percy and friends Annabeth and Thalia. The mission turned sour, Annabeth was kidnapped, and Artemis saved the day before calling him to give you all a lift back to camp.

Both of you could remember how red your face turned when you'd seen him, and he wouldn't tell you but he'd heard you talking about how hot he was with Thalia. It boosted his ego (which quite frankly does not need any more boosting), and he was smug the whole ride.

"Percy, you never told me you had a sister!" He spoke so loudly the whole bus could hear him.

"Um, because we've never met in person?" You brother suggested, a little nervously. Apollo was pretty chill, but that made him even scarier.

The god of the sun just laughed, before turning to look at you. The way his eyes roamed your figure felt less-than-innocent, and your face flushed as you yet again turned a bright shade of red. You couldn't believe the Apollo, the hottest Olympian, was actually staring at you with interest. Like he found you pretty enough to be stared at.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" He smiled flirtatiously, earning some aggressive threats from the Hunters behind you, which he ignored. "Just kidding, I know it already. (Name), right? Pretty name."

You felt as if you might explode. From embarrassment, from being flustered, you didn't know. Maybe he was toying with you, as gods tended to do, but then he looked at you again and genuine interest and attraction glimmered in his stunning blue eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Apollo," you stammered out, unsure of what else to say.

"So shy," he teased, grinning, "Cute. I like you."

Of course, he had to restrain himself from charming you entirely, since you were still a minor. Poseidon would have his head if he touched you at this age, so he decided it was best to wait a few years.

Those few years were full of struggle and pain for you, losing so many friends in the battles with Kronos and then Gaea. Apollo almost intervened just to comfort you several times, but was stopped by his sister convincing him to give you a few more years - and also reminding him that the Olympians could not intervene.

But you grew into such a beautiful, smart, brave woman - and extremely sexy, but he would have to keep that to himself - and Apollo felt lucky to have watched this growth. It made his attraction to you all the more prominent, and he began to feel something he hasn't felt in centuries - genuine. true love.

And it scared him.

His past lovers that he had really, truly loved had both been killed in gruesome ways. He was afraid of what being with him would mean for you, but ultimately decided on getting Poseidon's permission first.

The god of the sea said no.

Then came his trials.

The first demigods he went to were you and Percy, of course. Since he was stuck with an infuriating little girl, he hoped that you might tag along on his perilous journey to make it a little better.

To his delight, you agreed.

"What's so funny?" He demanded when he caught you snickering during a break from all the running.

"You," you laughed, "Never thought the god Apollo would be reduced to an average teenage boy with acne." You laughed even more at that, and he pouted, but enjoyed hearing you laugh nonetheless.

His first sign that you might have a crush on him too came when he mentioned he'd turned some gossipers into ravens just for telling on his previous cheating girlfriend. The mere mention of his ex-girlfriend seemed to irritate you, and Apollo was amused.

Though his turn for jealousy came when he noticed how close you were to Jason Grace. He couldn't do anything, though, so he watched miserably as you got along with the son of Jupiter so well that any outsider would think you were dating.

"What's with the pout, then?" You had asked him when you noticed how upset he looked.

"I am not pouting!"

"Yes you are."

You stepped closer, and your intoxicating scent filled his nostrils. He felt like a schoolboy with a massive crush, just you being that close scrambling his thoughts and making it difficult for him to answer.

"Alright, keep your secrets," you laughed, then walked away, and Apollo was left disappointed.

He was not even going to talk about the whole thing with Reyna. You had suddenly gotten so angry with him after that, you hadn't spoken to him for two days - unless absolutely necessary. It hurt, but he knew you must have been even more hurt by what had been implied.

The end of the trials eventually came and relieved all of you, the defeat of the Triumvirate taking a great weight off the world's - and yours - shoulders. Apollo disappeared after he went to fight Python, and for two weeks you heard no word from him or Olympus.

Then suddenly he was in the middle of camp, spouting the worst haikus you had ever heard in your life. And that was saying something, since all his haikus were pretty terrible.

"Like captured water

You hold me in your cupped hands

I flow on your palm."

Your jaw dropped. That was even worse than you assumed it would be, especially since he chose to center it around the fact that you're a daughter of Poseidon.

"Lord Apollo-"

"See what I did there?" He winked, coming up to you with a cheerful grin. "Did you like it?"

"Well-"

"Fear not! I have another one prepared that is sure to woo you."

Your face flushed, "Please don't say "woo", your kids are listening!"

He was already reciting his next haiku.

"You shatter my sleep

All milk-need and petal lips

You smile and I melt."

You frowned in confusion, "What does that even mean?"

"Aha! See I knew that was the one!"

"I didn't-what?"

He ignored your puzzlement in favour of coming so close to you his overwhelming godly power almost made you pass out.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around for two weeks," he apologised sincerely. "I was in a coma. I swear on the River Styx that it's the truth. But I came here as soon as I woke up, for you." He grinned like that was the best confession he could muster.

"Are you serious?" You breathed out, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"Technically I wanted you when you were fourteen, but that would have come across as creepy apparently," he informed you, "So I had to wait a few years until you turned the right age. That was okay with me, I'm immortal, I can wait."

Your jaw dropped further, "Are you, um-is this-?"

"A love confession? Yes!" He gleefully exclaimed, as if it were perfectly normal for an Olympian to invade camp and profess his love for a demigod.

The entire camp was silent, except for the Aphrodite girls who seemed to be glaring holes into you while trying to curse you - fortunately only the Apollo kids (ironically) had the power to curse a person to speak in rhymes.

"And what did...what did my dad think of this?" You cleared your throat, slightly nervous.

"Oh he was against it at first," Apollo admitted, "BUT he came around. It seems the trials proved a lot more than I thought."

"Well, uh, that's great," you half-smiled, not sure why you felt a sense of dread. This should be the happiest moment of your life.

Apollo's smile faltered, "Do you not-"

"No I do!" You quickly cut him off, sparing him the embarrassment of being rejected in front of a few dozen kids MUCH younger than him. "It's just...you're a god..."

He sighed, "Let's go take a walk."

A few minutes later you were away from prying eyes, sitting by the lake since it always calmed you down. Water soothed you, as cliche as that is for a Poseidon kid.

"I'm just worried," you started after a few minutes of silence, "You know, about all your mortal affairs and having demigod children and all that." You sighed. "I know it's silly. But I just don't think I can go through with it knowing that."

He frowned, but understood, "I can always stop-"

You laughed bitterly, "All the gods promised a woman what. Zeus promised Hera, but there's Jason and Thalia. Poseidon promised Amphitrite, but here Percy, Tyson and I are. It's in your nature, you can't help it."

He felt offended by that, "Yes well, none of them had the displeasure of being turned into mortal for a few months. It changes a god, you know."

You turned to look at him, "Are you really sure about this? That this is what you want? I'm what you want?"

"I've waited for you since you were fourteen," he reminded you, "Of course I'm sure." Despite your reluctance, he took your hand. "Please, just give me a chance."

You thought it over for a moment, before smiling softly, "Fine. You have your chance. But the first mortal affair you have-"

"I won't need them," he smiled, moving closer, "You can have all my children."

Your jaw dropped at his blatant suggestion, a deep blush forming on your cheeks, "Are you crazy?! I can't-"

"You can," he leaned in even closer, "Once I make you immortal."

You started stuttering and stammering just then, uttering some kind of incomprehensible nonsense that the god of the sun just laughed at. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before finally leaning in and claiming your lips.

He had waited long enough, now he was going to kiss you every chance he got.

[lionneee]

Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: oral sex (male), degradation, knife play talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Part 1 -> Part 2

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerysThanks for reading dear 💙}

Dear Jace,

I am begging you. I read your letter, and it shattered me from the inside.

Aemond’s presence scares me. My father can’t see it, but he is darkness.

He is empty inside.

I do not wish to be here any further, I want to escape. I will join your mother’s cause, I will do anything.

Please, just help me escape from him.

You Lady dear friend.

You wrote it weeks ago. During that time, you tried to avoid every possibility of being alone with Aemond.

What happened that night was something you were deeply ashamed of, and despite how good it felt, it was wrong.

You started to spend more time in the garden, you tried desperately to find some other ladies to be with, you even spent more time with your father.

You started to pay more attention to other people's approaches, you observed more, trying to understand if someone else other than you could have experienced something similar to what you did.

After the way Aemond left your room that night, after burning down Jace’s letter, you felt cold.

It wasn’t cold, but you still felt cold.

You felt alone. Unloved, unwanted.

You found yourself hoping for warm, strong arms to embrace your body, and secure you from the rest of the world.

You found yourself wishing for a different life.

Not as a Lady, but maybe as a commoner, a woman with a nice house out of the city walls, deep in nature, spending the day by taking care of the garden and the animals.

Aemond changed too after that night.

He got more violent.

You noticed the first time a couple did days later, when you were passing by the training yard, and you found him massacrating a mannequin.

He was still the cold, composed, stoic sworn sword you had always known from the outside, but there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name.

Then the day came.

Jace had answered you.

As soon as you held the letter in your hands, you flew in the garden, fidgeting expertly through the trees and flowers, trying to find a place where you knew Aemond would have never found you.

With trembling hands, you quickly broke the sigil with no house stamp on it, and opened the letter.

Dearest Lady friend,

I have tried to ignore your plea for help, for the good of my family, but I couldn’t. The weight of your words pulls on my heart, and though I am torn between duty and desire, I cannot leave you to face this peril alone. 

I am familiar with my uncle’s cruelty, and I cannot bring myself to leave you to it.

I will fly on Vermax, and we shall meet at the confines of your land the same night you’ll receive this letter, in the woods, covered by the trees, where no eyes will find us, and no ears will hear our plans.

Run south, as far as you can before nightfall. There is a hollow oak at the edge of the river, a place where time has forgotten. Hide there until I arrive. You must trust no one. The walls have ears, and shadows grow long in the presence of danger.

Bring only what you need for the journey, whatever you might need in the future you will find it at Dragon Stone. I will fly hard and fast, praying to the Gods to favor us both. We will meet again under the moonlit sky.

Your dear friend, Jace.

He was coming to get you.

He was coming to get you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the weight of Jace’s words settled over you. He was coming to get you, and your long-awaited escape from this nightmare was now within reach. But with the promise of freedom came a flood of uncertainty. You could feel it, each step from this moment would be perilous.

You pressed the letter close to your chest, its words a fragile lifeline to a future you could barely dare to imagine.

You had to act fast.

With trembling fingers, you folded Jace's letter and tucked it inside your bodice. You couldn’t risk anyone finding it, not Aemond, not your father, no one. The moments you had were fleeting, and every second counted.

You rushed back to your chambers, moving with a quiet urgency. Every footstep felt like it echoed too loudly in the silent halls, as though each beat of your heart might betray you. 

“Where were you?” Aemond snarled as he grabbed your arm, stopping you on the way back to the castle.

You turned and looked at him, swallowing with difficulty. You tried to put on a mask of indifference, trying to act as if your heart wasn’t pumping out of your breast.

“Breathing some fresh air.” You said. “In the garden.” You added to be more precise, knowing that he would have asked.

“You know you’re supposed to have me by your side. Always.” He added, his voice low and angry.

He was always so angry.

You knew you had to shake off any kind of suspect, so the best way you thought you could do, was to make him uncomfortable.

“I… I wasn’t feeling very well.” You said, earning a scoff from him, but you didn’t budge. “Ladies problem.” You added, hoping he would immediately drop the conversation. He looked down at you, silently, then he looked away, turning his head to the side.

“Don’t run again.” He growled, then he took a step back, waiting for you to start walking again. You nodded, and turned you back at him.

You were still tense. Too tense.

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your shoulders as you walked back in your room.

You held your hands tightly together on your lap, the excitement at the idea of escaping this place making your hands shake.

As soon as you reached your chambers you stopped a servant on her way out.

“Prepare me a bath, please.” The servant immediately nodded, and you slipped inside your room, leaving Aemond guarding the door.

You took a deep breath, running to your bed, taking Jace’s letter from your bodice to hide it in the pillows.

You were going to run away.

No more castle.

No more nasty looks from the ladies.

No more father.

No more Aemond.

Aemond.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Soon, nightfall would cloak the land in shadows, and that would be your chance. You stood at the window, your hands trembling slightly as you watched the sky darken. Time passed agonizingly slowly. The uncertainty tightened your chest. But you had to trust in Jace, in the bond you had shared since childhood.

In the love you held for each other.

He was your last hope.

As the final rays of light disappeared, you slipped out of your chambers and made your way to the courtyard. 

You found an old dark cloak, you changed into a simple dress, cursing yourself for not owning any form of pants, then you waited. 

You knew you couldn’t go out of the door, Aemond was there, he would have seen you and dragged you back in.

You also couldn’t crawl out of the window, it was too high.

You bit your lip, pacing back and forth.

Maybe if you made Aemond move.

You quickly walked to the door, the cloak hidden behind you and you opened the door of your room slightly.

No one.

Aemond wasn’t there.

He must have gone to grab something to eat or drink.

Perfect, it was perfect.

The moon, pale and full, began to rise, casting long shadows along the walls. The air was cool and crisp, and each breath felt like a battle against your nerves. You moved quickly, making sure not to draw the attention of any guards. You had memorized every path through the gardens, every hidden corner where you could disappear from sight.

Finally, you reached the edge of the woods. The dark canopy of trees stretched out before you, their towering forms offering both comfort and terror. You had to go. You glanced back at the castle, looming in the distance, its towers like sentinels watching over your every move.

Then, without looking back again, you ran.

The forest was thick, but you moved swiftly, guided by the faint silver light of the moon. Branches scraped at your skin, leaves whispered beneath your feet, but nothing could slow you down now. You had to reach the hollow oak, and had to find your way to safety before it was too late. 

The hollow oak. 

Jace had said it was a place where time had forgotten.

The sound of the river reached your ears before you saw it, a soft, rushing murmur that promised refuge. You followed it, breathless and trembling. Then you saw it: the ancient oak, its massive trunk gnarled and twisted by the ages. It stood like a guardian, waiting for you to step into its shelter.

“Back to the chasing, I see.” You screamed at the voice, so near your ear, and so familiar.

Aemond.

Run.

You immediately started running, hoping to leave Aemond behind.

Maybe if you tried to-

You heard a sound of metal dropping on the ground from a distance and froze.

He was dropping his armor.

To run faster.

To get to you.

You immediately started running again, trying to avoid the trees and roots to not fall, but your cloak kept getting caught in the branches.

You had to stop every time and pull it free, until at last, hearing a noise too close to you, you decided to take it off and leave it there.

You turned to start running again, hitting something and falling back on the floor.

Towering over you, with the most hateful look in the world, there was Aemond.

You crawled back, but he grabbed your ankle to pull you right where you were.

“You like running? Like a scared sheep?” He growled as he let go of your ankle, letting it drop back on the ground.

“Get-“ 

“Don’t.” He hissed. “Shut the fuck up.” He pulled off a dagger from his belt, and your body froze.

No.

“Aem-“

“I said. Shut. Up.” He repeated. 

He knelt down before you and slipped the dagger under your bodice, then cut the first inches, making your breasts more exposed.

You gasped surprised as you looked up at him, anger written all over your expression.

“You-“ This time, you stopped yourself, his single eye was threatening enough.

He twisted the dagger expertly in his hand, so the blade was pointing towards him, and the handle was right in front of your face.

“Speak up. I dare you.” There was a faint smirk in his lip, an almost imperceptible curve at the side of his mouth.

You took the challenge.

You opened your mouth to speak, but as soon as you did so, you found yourself with the handle of the dagger between your lips.

You widened your eyes as looked at him, pulling back immediately, but he quickly placed his free hand behind your head, slipping his fingers in your hair.

“Suck.” He ordered as his eye moved to your lips. You let out a growl, that after a harsh, hurtful tug he gave to your hair, turned into a whine.

You huffed, irritated and started to suck the handle of the dagger.

His eye wouldn’t leave your lips, and soon, he started moving the dagger, so the handle would get further inside your mouth, almost to the blade, then he would pull it out.

You let out a gagged choked sound every time the tip of the handle would get too far in your mouth, your head instinctively trying to pull back, but his hand never allowed you to do it.

“Such perfect lips…” He hummed as he kept watching. “Used so wrongly.” His smirk widened as he looked at your eyes, which only hardened further with anger.

He pulled the dagger out of your mouth and stood up.

“You’re always so ready to talk back to me, uh?” He shook his head, chuckling bitterly to himself. “Make my life harder, as if being here wasn’t already an enough humiliation. But take care of you.” His lips curled. “I couldn’t have fallen lower.” 

You would have never admitted it, but his words stinged. Hard.

“Then go away.” You hissed back. He looked back down at you and he undid his pants.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He breathed out a chuckle, pulling down his pants. “I just thought of teaching you another lesson.” He grabbed your hair harshly, pulling them back into a makeshift ponytail. “Stop avoiding me.” He growled, he gave a harsh tug at your hair, forcing you on your knees, pulling your face closer to his crotch.

Now you could see it.

It was long, pale and veiny.

The head was red, very red, enough to seem hurtful.

“Now open your mouth.” He ordered, looking down at you. There was a veil of darkness over his eye, but you strangely didn’t feel threatened by it.

Maybe that was the reason why you followed his instruction and opened your mouth.

Your mouth got filled with something bigger than a dagger handle.

Something that felt softer against your lips and your tongue, something salty.

You looked up at him as he put a hand over your throat, finding him already looking down at you.

“Those eyes almost make me want to do it gently.” He said softly, but his smirk said something else. “Almost.” He added in a lower tone of voice as his hips bucked forward, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth.

You immediately gagged, your eyes filled with tears as you tried to cough around him and tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Watch the teeth.” He growled as his hips moved again, this time less further, enough to not draw a bad reaction from you.

“Hollow your cheeks, my lady.” He said, his voice shifted into a mocking grunt at the last two words. “Breath through your nose.” He instructed.

He kept thrusting in your mouth until eventually, you didn’t feel the need to cough and pull away when the tip of his cock reached your throat. Aemond moved your head on his length, forcing you to always take more. His whole cock was drenched in saliva, it ran down to his stones and your chin, drooling on the ground as well, your cheeks stained with tears of effort.

“There.” He moaned, his eye never left you. “Learning something?” He chuckled as he threw his head back with a grunt, his hands moving your head faster. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not.” He added with a low chuckle. “You’ll have time to learn. Every morning, before breakfast time.”

You grunted, and hollowed your cheeks again, adding more friction to his movements.

“Fuck!” He growled and pushed you away, making you almost lose your balance and fall back. He looked down at you and grabbed your cheeks in his hand, squeezing them.

“You’re just begging to be fucked, uh?” He gave you a light slap on the face, the action leaving you more stunned than hurt.

He growled as he knelt down again, grabbing your hips and turning you on your hand and knees in a move, manhandling you at his liking.

You weren’t sure why you were letting him do everything he wanted.

Maybe because you knew he could make you feel it again.

Heaven.

He raised your skirts with urgency and grabbed the dagger from the ground to tear your underwear and thighs.

“Ladies problems, uh?” He chuckled, looking down at your core, glistening with juices. “My dearest friend.” He laughed, citing the letters between you and Jacaerys, as you felt your cheeks hot at his mocking tone, the way he made it sound like a lame, shameful way to address someone. “I’ll fuck you until you won’t be able to walk on those legs.” He said as he passed his fingers on your core, finding it drenched.

It only amused him more.

“You liked being taught a lesson?” He asked, he leaned forward, grabbing your hair to pull your head back, making you arch your back as he slipped his finger inside your mouth, making you taste the strange fluid.

“You drenched my cock enough, you had to be sure you too were wet enough? So I could fill that virgin cunt of yours?” He mocked you as your face felt hotter, shame filling your chest. You tried to mumble something, but he kept moving his finger in your mouth, making it impossible to speak a word. “What’s that?” You could hear how amused he was, and it sent another pang of shame through your body. “Right. Not so virgin anymore.” He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, straightening up to look back down at your core, grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them apart. “Not after my cock spreaded you open.”

He gritted his teeth, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you as he barely even slipped in.

You shifted on your place, biting your lower lip as you moved your hips back to meet him, to try to feel it again inside you.

Aemond obviously laughed at that.

“Not even resisting.” He hummed, pushing the angry tip of his cock past your folds, earning a sound between a moan and a whine. “Do you think you’re ready to take it all, mh?” He asked as he leaned forward, letting his length move further inside you. 

You groaned as your fingers sighed in the dirt, your eyes rolled back as you felt him filling you slowly, inch by inch.

“They say it’s supposed to be painful the first time.” He said as he pulled your head back again, so he could see your face from above. “But look at you. You look like a whore.” He smiled and let go of your hair, letting you fall back on your hands. “Do you like the pain, my dearest friend ?” He pulled back, and thrusted back in with a firm, hard movement.

“Ah!” You gasped as your body jolted forward, a small pit in your lower stomach pulsing in pain, that you welcomed with a moan as Aemond slipped a hand between your bodies to rub at that sweet pearl hidden between your legs.

Aemond thrusted again, with the same force, slowly picking up the pace as the pain you felt started to fade away, leaving space for pleasure, pleasure and pleasure.

You couldn't have controlled it even if you could have, so you just let your voice out, moaning at every movement he did, focusing only on the heavenly feeling, not even hearing the puns of wings battling in the wind.

Aemond rose his eye to the dark sky, smiling.

“Look who’s here…” He hummed as he grabbed your hair again, tugging you back until your eyes looked at the sky.

A dragon.

Jace. 

“He’s here for you, isn’t he?” He laughed in your ear. “Maybe we should invite him to watch.” He whispered.

Jace.

You thought.

I’m here. See me. 

You watched as the dragon flew in circles for a while, getting closer to the ground, but then, he rose back up, faster, flying away at high speed.

“Looks like he won’t save you.” He added. “No chance to be a princess now.” He laughed. “Not that you’ve lost much. I could make you a queen.” He added in a lower voice.

“Impossible.” You choked out after another of his punishing thrusts. “You’re a-a second son.”

Aemond pulled his hand off your pearl, grabbing your hips and moving them back back against him, making sure his cock was deep inside you before he stopped his movements completely.

“I guess you’re right.” He whispered in your ear. “You’ll have to settle as my slut then.” He pushed you back down, until the side of your face pressed against the dirt, his hand tight on the back of your neck and he resumed his movements with a newfound speed, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. “Mine.” He clarified, his voice strained as he grabbed the skin of your ass again, spreading it apart to see his cock slamming inside you with a wet, squelching sound. “Hear how wet you are.” He moaned as he moved his hands to your hips, his fingers digging in your skin. “It doesn’t even look like you need to be saved.” He planted his feet on the ground, raising from his knees and bringing you back with him so he wouldn’t have to pull out, he stayed down, his legs bent as he started thrusting again, the new position allowing him to get deeper, touch spots inside you you didn’t know existed, his head bullying a particular place inside you, that make your jaw fall slack and your eyes roll in the back of your skull, your sounds reaching another volume, showing another level of pleasure.

“Yeah, moan for me.” He growled. “Moan and come for me, come on my cock —“ He panted. “Fucking drench it even more -“ He snarled as he managed to move faster, inhumanly possible, and drawing you closer to heaven.

You felt your stomach clench, tense almost painfully as your walls squeezed his cock, gifting your ears of another moan from him.

“Come.” He ordered. “Come on.” He added with some urgency. 

You groaned louder, your hands closing into fists as you felt the tension snap, and you completely let go of everything.

“Aemond — !” You let out a long moan as your climax hit you, waves of pleasure crushing on your body, followed by some shivers that made you spasm lightly.

“Yes — Fuck!” He moaned as he pulled out of you, jerking himself furiously as he kept the tip of his cock pressed against your clit, his other hand on your lower back to keep you still as you tried to squirm from overstimulation as his tip rubbed against your pearl.

Aemond let out a choked moan as white strings of cum painted your core and inner thighs.

What followed was a moment of silence, except for your panting and the sounds wind and nature in the woods. You closed your eyes only for a moment, until you heard Aemond stand back up and start to walk away.

You panicked a little and lowered your skirts, raising on your hands as you tried to see his silhouette in the darkness.

Was he going to leave you like this?

In the middle of the woods?

You sat up on the ground, fixing your skirts as you looked around.

What if there were wolves around?

But then, two strong arms slipped under your knees and around your waist hoisting you up.

Aemond started walking out of the woods, where his horse was waiting.

“I would never leave you. Especially not like that.” He said calmly.

Hell the wolves.

You had a dragon.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe

[totaly-obsessed]

Rory

Leah Williamson x reader

-> A teenage squabble over a plant turns into a heartwarming symbol of family as two best friends prepare to embark on the journey of motherhood together.

-> Happy (a little late) Birthday @alotofpockets!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“What the fuck is that?”

“Leah Williamson, Language! Or I will call Amanda!” Your mum’s voice was shrill as she scolded a thirteen-year-old Leah for her cursing. Leah just had a smug smirk on her face, she got her potty mouth from her mum, who always acted outraged when her eldest swore in front of other people.

“That is my favorite plant, Lee! My sister gave it to me.”

Your best friend didn’t even have the audacity to look guilty or lie. “Well that’s fucking hideous thing, I’ll tell you that.”

“Leah!” Oh shit. She just got first-named.

“W- Well you can’t tell me that’s a pretty plant! What is it even called? Tree Tumbo?

Now that she saw the tears brimming your eyes she knew she had fucked up. Her hand that had flown, trying to defend herself slowly sank.

“No, it’s called Dracaena. But I named it Rory, short for Aurora.”

Just last week Leah and you had talked about names for future children, or rather your future children. The blonde was already sure that she liked girls, so kids were out of sight for now. Aurora was a name that stuck with her though, and you had promised to name your first kid Aurora if your husband would agree.

“Oh… Darling, I’m so so-”

“I think you should go home now.” Your teary eyes nearly killed the teen, but with one last kiss on your forehead, she left the room, saying goodbye to your very confused mother.

—

“No way.”

“Yes, Leah! I am not leaving her behind!”

The blonde defender tried to barricade the door and deny you access, but with just a gentle nudge she moved, even picking up the heavy plant for you.

“I can’t believe you’re taking that fucking thing with you.”

After that eventful first day of having Rory, Leah had properly apologized with chocolate, flowers, and a hand-knitted little sweater for a plant pot. She obviously didn't make it herself. God, that would have been a disaster. Her Granny, Berny, had made it for her.

“Well she’s my daughter and as long as I am alive I will take her with me. Either deal with it or go.”

Leah was stunned standing in the hallways “OH! You wouldn’t dare, darling! What would you do without me? Who carries the grocery bags for you?”

“You haven’t carried anything yet!”

The two of you had just signed your first senior contract with Arsenal for a year - and to live closer to the facilities you were moving into a house with Emma Mitchell and Emma Byrne. Both of them were experienced players and filled with excitement they had agreed to take two young talents in.

But seeing you call a plant your daughter, and Leah hating it with such passion surely was a sight to see and just a teaser for the coming year.

—

“You can’t be serious?”

Leah had been busy over the day, doing media stuff. So with having the new house all to yourself, you brought Rory back in, much to your girlfriend's demise.

She had just re-signed her arsenal contract for the foreseeable future while you had signed with the London City Lionesses last year, working part-time as a librarian at your closest school - a dream of yours.

After multiple failed relationships with men, you had come to the realization that the real thing was right in front of you, in the form of your best friend.

Now you had moved out of the old, small apartment into your very own first home, and Leah apparently liked to ignore the time plans you had made. So now you stood there, Rory still in your hands as your girlfriend got out of the car.

“I thought we talked about this Darling!”

Quickly she had walked over, taking the now huge plant out of your hands, and carried it into the house.

“Where do you want it then?”

She already knew that you couldn’t leave Rory behind, you had looked so sad when you promised her not to take the Dracaena with you.

“Next to the couch please!”

“Of course darling…”

—

The nerves picked at you as you made a little sign with ‘big sister’ on it. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise to Leah that you are pregnant, the road here was long after all. But you would never know.

Rory would officially be a big sister in the making, in just a few more months, and then a little baby would share the place with your loved plant.

After leaning the sign next to the ultrasound and the pregnancy test you sat back down at the dining table, now you just needed to wait until your wife was home.

It was as if you were in a trance, looking at your book but not actually taking anything in from it when the blonde entered your home.

“I’m home darling!” Her first act of service once entering was greeting you with a kiss - but she was a little taken aback by your nervous expression. You had been home the entire day, what could have happened?

“I’m gonna shower, my love. I’ll leave the door open for ya!”

Hastily you stood up, pulling Leah back by her arm, ignoring the cocky smirk on her beautiful face. “Can you water Rory please?”

Her nose scrunched up in confusion. You, letting her near your beloved plant? unheard of, but she’d take it any day if it would make you happy.

“Yeah! Sure!"

Your wife nearly skipped through the living room, a half-full watering can in one hand, a müsli riegel in the other. 

“How much does she need?”

No answer.

“Darling, What’s up? You’ve been we- Oh.”

She saw it.

the watering can and food forgotten she picked up the hints you had positioned, looking at the positive test and the picture.

“It worked! We’re gonna be mothers!”

[loveemagicpeace]

💿Some of life things in astrology💿

✨Venus in cancer - I usually see that these people always include parents in their daily life , in their love life , in their life in general. Also they always include their parents in their vlogs. They will always post their parents on social media or doing videos with them.

🎶People who have aquarius in 2nd house have the best taste in music. They have their own music that they listen to, but people always like it. They just put some song and people will love it.

🍸Mercury is how you express yourself and in which way and also shows how good you are in texting with people and how you are in contact with others.

🦭Mercury in capricorn- they are not such a good texter actually.I would say that they will texting you about: I don't know about time or place you two will meet or practical things. But they will not text you like 24/7 or something they are too busy. And also I feel like capricorn usually think they wasting their time texting someone things that don't usually have any meaning or are not practical.

🦋Mercury in scorpio- dig deep into things. Sometimes even too deep. In the sense that they go so deep into the things they want to find out ,that they hurt them at the end. One thing they have is, that they feel better when they find out things by themselves than when they find out from others. They are very deep thinkers and very deep in conversations they don't like small talks and they will always want to go deep with you in every conversation they will have. When you hurt them they will be harsh and very mean to you because when they speak they speak to their emotions.

❤️‍🔥Fire signs are confident, driven, lively and full of energy. They like to be mentally and physically active. They are also dreamers who measure their height. Fire signs are competitive.

🖤Earth signs are more in tune with nature and their bodies. They are reliable, tough, practical partners and friends. Earth signs take time to master a skill.

💕Air signs are mental and need a lot of communication. They like to remain objective. They often negotiate for justice. They value freedom and dislike conflict.

🩵Water signs are by nature creative, imaginative, dreamy and often very ignorant. Water is associated with emotions and the unconscious. They can be visionaries and have many ideas clairvoyant abilities. Water signs care about the environment and by nature feel with everyone and everything around them.

🌞God of Sun is Apollo. It is carved in the sanctuary of Apollo in Delphi the ancient saying "Know thyself". Because with the sun we ask ourselves "who am I?" and "why am I here?". Because with the sun we feel that our lives have meaning, that we were born with a mission that we must fulfill, and we want to know what it is supposed to be.

The sun represents its essence and indicates our goal in life. With the sun, we can discover qualities and find ways to use them in our lives. This can mean that we engage in a certain activity or wear colors with a connection to the sun. Just as Apollo rides in his fiery chariot across the sky, so the sun represents a heroic journey through life. Therefore, we can connect it to the work we do or should do performed in the world. The path of the sun is usually not very clear and, just like the heroic myths say, there are many pitfalls to overcome and lessons to be learned. It is these difficult tasks that test our limits, they confront us with loss and sacrifice and force us to become the best we can be. The Sun together with Saturn represent the father principle. The sign in which our sun is describes experiences with the father figure. In childhood, our first hero is the father.

🫧Nobody talks about how lonely you can feel with Uranus in the first house. Because it's the part of your personality and Uranus could make you feel that you don't belong somewhere or you feel some kind of distance in this house. When it's in in your first house you could feel that being around people make you lonely or doing some things alone for ex.: eating alone in the restaurant this could be the problem for you because you could feel very lonely when you do some things in the public alone or I don't know going to the coffee alone.

🌟Planets return show you things that you are not aware of it or you're not expressing them. For example Mercury return can show you the whole new perspective about things and could change your mindset for the better. Venus return can show you the new value about you or what you value about others. You are more aware now what u actually want. Where do you find real love. Mars return it can show you a new way to be brave, fearless and go outside your comfort zone. And where is your energy best expressed and through what. You can show your anger more during this time.

🍿It’s really hard to forget people with whom you share 4th House this is because they make you feel the most familiar and the most comfortable around them. It's like the family kind of vibe.It feels like coming home and being with them it's like being in the safe and secure environment. 4th house represents our home , the people that are closed to us , the space when you feel the most comfortable and people with whom you feel the most comfortable with.

🧜🏼‍♀️ Venis trine Uranus- I find this aspect so unique because you actually fall in love with the person's uniqueness and differentness they have. You actually love them for it. You love that this person is different and is not the same that anyone else. For ex.: it could be you don't like face tattoos or you don't like someone who dress extra but when you meet this person you actually love this on them. This relationship can be unique and so different than the others.

🧚🏼‍♀️Uranus in 1st house in synastry- it's kind of the same vibe that with uranus conj venus but it's not because when you first meet this person you feel like this person is different than the others and that they have some unique energy that nobody else has. You feel like this person is special and so unique. That their personality could be so different than the others. It's like you can try to find someone else but you feel like nobody else could compare to this person.

🌙Personal planets appear faster in synastry and the first time you meet the person (especially: sun, moon, mercury). And, of course, rising sign :which indicates the energy of a person when you meet them. But here's the trick with rising sign that many times the true energy of a person can be hidden and only show up after a while when you get to know the person better. 💧The outer planets, however, manifest themselves over the years, when the persons already know each other very well and have a relationship.

🧸3rd house not only represents communication, mind,car ,electronics ,social media ,telephones and any of this stuff. It's also represents your early high school experience and also people who were with you in your high school. Your high school first love and how it feels like. Your high school best friend. So every person you have a 3rd house synastry with is usually a person you met at that time. A lot of people you share third house with or the sign you have in the third house is meant to be for you to meet them actually.

🎸The best time you will have with the person and the best things you will experience with the people are people u share 9th house. This house is ruled by Jupiter the luckiest Planet. This is the house of gifts. The girt from God, so when you meet the people you share this house with it's a gift that actually was brought into your life. All the things you will experience with these people will actually mean something to you. Because 9th house is meaningful house is where you find meaning, where u seek for meaning , when u actually find optimism. The person's u share this house with can actually inspire you the most or give you the most luckiest advice.

🧁I believe that it's not only 5th house that represents memories, but every house represents some memory you have from your early childhood. Every house is something special. The sign that you have in this house is the sign that reminds you most of this event of your life. So for ex.: aries in 3rd house -maybe this person were your best friend and remind you the most of your high school experience. Taurus in 4th house- this person maybe remind you the most of your home or your childhood, family life. Maybe you grew up with this person. Leo in 8th house-this person probably reminds you most of a dark/deep period of your life. Maybe you could spend the most intense times with this person and share the most secrets.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah💿🧚🏼‍♀️☁️

[specialagentlokitty]

Elrond x teen!reader - safe with us

Hiii! I haven't been active in so longgg it's painful to think about BUTTT I'm here with like some many ideas for requests!!! Could you maybe write an parental elrond x human child (if it's fem I would appreciate it!) in WICH reader was traveling with their fam but got attacked by orcs or sumting and she was told to run, she either a) stumbled upon a patrol of Rivendell or b) something else that led her to Rivendell and can we see soft elrond with her, better yet soft ELVES with her AWWWWWWWWWWW how CUTEEE (ignoring the whole slaughter part ofc) Like she's basically adopted by all the elves of Rivendell. - @hai-kbai 💜

You had been running for god knows how long, your legs hurt, and you were tired, and hurting from the numerous falls you had taken.

But you felt like you couldn’t stop running, you were scared if you stopped then they would find you, that they would get you as well.

So you kept going, right up until you ran into a small group of what appeared to be maybe guards or warriors.

They all looked at you and you screamed, scrambling to hide between some rocks that you could only just fit between.

You heard some quiet talking, and slowly somebody came over.

“Please do not be scared, we mean you no harm. Are you lost?”

You said nothing, and the elf nodded slightly, rummaging through his bag before holding something out to you.

“Hungry perhaps? it’s good. One small bite will fill you.”

You refused to take the food and he sighed, putting it away as he began to talk to him comrades.

While they were talking, you stayed hidden up until the point you heard a noise that sounded a lot like orcs.

Rushing out from your hiding spot, you ran to the elf and stood in front of him, hiding yourself in the group.

“We must go.”

They all got on their horses and the one you had hid behind helped you on to his horses before climbing on and rushing away.

You didn’t want to go with them, but between orcs and elves, they were the safest option.

They had horses and would be faster.

Exhaustion soon took over you, and you fell asleep.

Of course the elf behind you knew you were asleep, but he made no motion to wake you up, neither did the others.

They just carried on their journey back to Rivendell where the sounds of movement made you wake up.

You snapped your head up and looked around, jumping down from the horse and backing away in fear.

“You appear to have brought a guest.”

“We found her alone and scared.” The man replied.

The other elf nodded.

You carefully studied him, he had a friendly face, with a small smile as he looked at you, and he was wearing the most elegant clothes you had ever seen.

“I am Lord Elrond, of Rivendell. Do you have a name?”

You said nothing.

“You’re scared, I understand. But you needn’t be afraid, we mean you no harm, we wish to help you if you will let us.”

You glanced around, and you turned back to him.

“How about a bath, some food and a clean change of clothing?”

You slowly nodded your head.

So they got everything ready for you, and you bathed in peace, only letting out a small hiss as hot water touched the scratched and cuts in your skin.

When you were done you changed into the elegant Elyan clothing you were given, and began to wonder around.

Bare feet padding along the floor, you looked into other rooms, poking and looking at things as you passed.

“Hello, Lord Elrond has requested you to come have something to eat.”

You turned to face the new elf.

He smiled at you, bowing his head a little.

“I’m Lindir.”

He stood up.

“Will you come?”

You nodded and followed him to a grand dining hall, and he showed you a seat next to Elrond and you looked at the food in front of you.

“Whatever you want to eat, you can.”

You looked at him then back to the food, and you glanced at his plate as he ate his dinner.

He saw you looked and smiled to himself, taking your plate, he replaced it with his own, and set your plate in front of him.

You began to pick at the food he was eating, knowing that if he was eating it then it was fine for you to eat.

Elrond smiled softly at you.

“Do you mind if I have a look at your arm after? That looks rather deep and painful.”

You looked at your arm.

“What happened to it?” He asked.

“I fell…”

He nodded his head.

“I see, well, we all fall sometimes. It is nothing we can’t fix.”

Elrond could tell you had been through a lot, so he never pushed you into telling him what had happened.

They simply made you feel at home, with your own room, food you liked, they had even began to teach you their language and games.

Everybody loved you.

“Be care when you go.” Elrond said.

“I’ll be okay!”

You swatted his hands away and he smiled at you.

“I know, I just worry the young elves forget you are not as strong as they are.”

“I’m strong!” You huffed.

He sighed a little, nodding his head.

“I know, just go have fun. And be safe.”

You smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

With that you ran off, waving to everybody you had passed.

They all knew you by name now, the human who lived with elves.

They loved you, and you were part of Rivendell.

You brought them joy and adventures and just the right amount of mischief to make any boring day a little better.

You were still healing over whatever had happened to your family and Elrond could see that in the nights you didn’t sleep, or the days you wouldn’t talk.

But he hoped maybe you could open yourself to Rivendell as your home and realise you never had to leave

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part VIII

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you lie to yourself. Chapter Warnings: Sex, p in v sex, dirty talk, praise kink, wall sex, semi-public sex, library sex, unrealistic refractory periods. Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

You don’t know what this is and you don’t know how to navigate it. 

Every night from dusk to midnight, you are in his bed. He makes you no promises and you don’t ask him to. You tell yourself that it’s meaningless, harmless, a bit of fun.

You ignore the fact that most sensible people would not define bedding a prince as a harmless bit of fun. Especially not when you’re a servant. Especially not when there’s so much that you could lose.

You ignore the fact that the longer it goes on, the more the meaningless parts start to feel substantive, the more it nudges at something in the center of your chest.

You ignore it all because if you don’t, if you stop and think very carefully about it, that’s when you will realize that you’ve wandered too far down a path that you ought not to have taken in the first place and by that point, it will be too late.

It is getting late and you are trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your head is resting on Loki’s chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. His fingers have been trailing up your spine and into your hair and back down again. It’s soothing and it also gives you chills—a pleasant contradiction, much like Loki himself.

“I must leave tomorrow,” he says suddenly. “I have business on Midgard.”

“Oh,” you say. You’re not really sure how to feel about that. You’re not really sure whether you’re supposed to feel anything about that. Probably not. “How long do you expect to be away?”

He sighs. “Two months, at least. Likely more.”

“Long enough to cause trouble, I imagine,” you say lightly. There is an unexpected lump in your throat, but you’re doing your best to ignore it. There’s no reason there should be a lump in your throat; therefore it does not exist. You repeat this to yourself confidently, like saying it more than once will make it true.

“Well, naturally.” He rolls over, pulling you with him so that you are on your back and pinned beneath him. “I am the god of mischief, after all.”

“I suppose you are.” You recognize that look in his eyes. “And what mischief are you planning now, your highness?”

He hums and presses a kiss against your collarbone. “The usual sort.” He is growing hard against your belly. “I must have you at least once more before I depart on my journey.”

Despite all your complicated and confusing feelings, your body is warming to his touch, that all too familiar aching need stirring in your hips. “Only once?” you say as you open your legs to him.

“I said at least once. Try to pay attention, darling.”

In the end, he has you twice more, though the last one is quicker than you’d like, motivated by the lateness of the hour. He helps you dress and delays you once more at the door with a long and lingering kiss that you will find yourself returning to many times over the next several weeks.

“I really must go,” you murmur against his lips. “I’ll be missed if I’m away much longer.”

“Surely another minute won’t hurt,” he says, lowering his head to nuzzle the place where your neck and shoulder meet.

“I’m afraid you underestimate the power of very nosy kitchen maids.”

“Well, we can’t have that. I shall speak to Fritjof about the staffing.”

You know he’s joking, but there’s still a flicker of fear that runs through you at the sound of Fritjof’s name. “You wouldn’t,” you say, forcing your voice to sound light and unbothered.

He laughs quietly. “You’re right. I avoid speaking to that old bat whenever I can.”

You are used to hiding your true feelings about Fritjof. “He’s particular,” you say.

“He’s abhorrent,” says Loki. “If I were king, he would be the first I’d release from service.”

You can’t help but feel a little relieved by this statement. Sometimes it’s easy to feel like Fritjof’s unpleasantness is all in your head, or even just an overreaction.

You can’t say any of this, though, so you keep your expression neutral and polite. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do,” he says, a hint of a laugh evident in his voice. “You’re simply accustomed to being well-mannered about it.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say so if I was.”

He laughs quietly and runs a fingertip along your cheek. “I suppose not.”

There’s a beat of silence and the lateness of the hour strikes you once again. “I really must go,” you say.

“I know.” He looks at you carefully before leaning in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle, almost tender in a way that makes you want to indulge in silly daydreams.

But the kiss ends, though his hand remains cupped against your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll send for you when I return,” he says.

You want to believe him, but there’s a part of you that’s afraid that this might be the end of your extraordinary little dalliance. Surely his attention will wander elsewhere once he returns. You hastily dismiss the thought and force what you hope is a believable smile.

“Safe travels, highness.”

You’re surprised by how immediately you feel Loki’s absence. 

It’s not just the sex, though you certainly miss that. You miss his company, his dry and sarcastic remarks, the way that his eyes light up when you say something sharp or clever. His smile, his quiet huff of laughter against your shoulder, the way his long fingers curl around yours. The way he listens, the way his brow furrows when he’s deep in thought.

You try very hard not to think about what any of that might mean.

You resume your clandestine trips to the library, but you find it’s hard not to think of Loki in a space that you associate so closely with him: here is a book that you know he likes, there is the chair he prefers. The memory of his kiss burns on your lips, the ghost of his touch seared into your skin like a tattoo.

Deep down, you know what this means, though you won’t admit it just yet. Not even to yourself.

The first few days are difficult, but after a few stumbling missteps, you slowly find your way back into the rhythm you found back before Loki upended your days.

You’re soon reminded, though, that these forbidden trips are not without their risks.

It’s only blind luck that saves you. You are coming back from the library, cutting across the dining hall to save time when you notice the lace on your boot has come undone. You bend down to tie it and it’s only then in the sudden silence that you hear footsteps approaching.

You draw back quickly into the shadows, pressing yourself flat against one of the large stone columns. From this vantage point, you can just see the doorway at the far end of the room.

A figure appears and your heart nearly flies out of your chest.

There in the flickering torchlight is Fritjof. 

You hold your breath as he crosses the room. It might be your imagination, but you would swear he looks more sinister in this light, with his beady eyes and the torchlight casting gloomy shadows across his face.

He’s a little past your column when he pauses, the sharp flare of his nostrils the only sign of life in his eerily still frame. Your heart is pounding so hard that you worry it might somehow give you away, impossible as it seems. He doesn’t know about the library, you tell yourself, willing it to be true. He doesn’t know I’m here.

His gaze sweeps over the room, his eyes squinting against the torchlight. The permanent line between his eyebrows deepens, almost as if he knows something is not quite right.

But finally, after a long moment, he seems to think better of it and continues on his way, footsteps echoing ominously in the large room.

You only let out your held breath when he leaves. You wait until his footsteps fade and then you make yourself count to one hundred before you tiptoe your way back to your room, your heart pounding the whole way.

If you were sensible, you would give up going to the library. You know that.

But with Loki gone, it’s the only thing you have to look forward to, and for that reason, you can’t quite convince yourself to give it up, though you do start taking a different route back.

And agonizingly slowly, those first four weeks pass.

On the first night of the fifth week, it occurs to you that you’re a little over halfway through. Assuming, of course, that it’s only two months and not longer like he thought it could be.

Assuming, of course, that he still wants you when he returns.

You decide that you’re not going to think about either possibility or the little blip of melancholy that creates strange tightness in your chest. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.

On the third night of the fifth week, you hear footsteps in the stacks.

It must be Fritjof.

You try not to panic as you set the book carefully on the shelf, listening intently. There was always part of you that knew that this was too risky to continue, that being discovered was always the inevitable conclusion. He’d nearly caught you once already, why didn’t you think this time would be different?

A voice comes from behind you. “And what business does a kitchen maid have in the palace library?”

There’s about a half second of terror before you realize that the voice is not Fritjof’s. 

It’s Loki’s.

Before you can turn around, strong arms are wrapping around your waist from behind, a broad chest pressing against your back. You relax almost instantly, your fear turning to something that you will later recognize as joy.

“You’re shaking,” he says, pressing a kiss against your neck.

“You frightened me half to death,” you say, your heart beating wildly, half from joy and half from fear. “I thought you were Fritjof.”

“Such grievous attacks on my character already?” he tuts against your neck, though you can feel him smiling. “Any sensible man would be offended by such a comparison.”

“He nearly caught me last week. And you’re much earlier than you said—I didn’t think to expect you.”

He presses a soft kiss against your neck. “Are you disappointed?”

“That depends on how churlish you intend to be,” you say.

He laughs and it only makes you ache for him. He turns you around and before you can get a proper look at him, he’s pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply.

The restless, yearning ache that you’ve felt in your soul since he left finally stills when his lips touch yours. Kissing Loki feels like coming home—it feels so perfect, so right that it would scare you a little bit if there were room in your heart for any feeling other than joy.

It’s a minute or so later when he finally draws back just a little—only enough to speak. “Did you miss me?” he breathes against your lips.

Happy as you are, your first instinct is to deflect. You can’t be vulnerable. Not yet. “I would ask the same of you,” you say.

Instead of answering you directly, he presses his hips against yours so you can feel the hard length of him already straining at the confines of his trousers. You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Now give me a proper answer,” he says, his voice dipping into a slight growl that awakens that familiar, aching heat low in your hips.

A shiver snakes up your spine. “Yes,” you say. “Very much.”

His eyes flash and suddenly he’s pressing you back against the shelf and kissing you deeply. Desperately. You arch against him as his hands palm your breasts before dropping to your hips to pull you closer still, close enough that you can’t help but feel the hard press of his cock against you.

He pulls away abruptly, grabbing you by the wrist and leading you deeper into the stacks.

“Where are we going?” There’s a breathy quality to your voice that you hope doesn’t reveal too much.

“You’ll see.”

His destination is a dark, secluded corner near a collection of atlases. Before you can ask more questions, he’s pressing you up against a wall and you realize with a thrill that he intends to have you right here in the library.

“We could be seen,” you say as he hitches up your skirts and hooks your leg up around his waist. But your voice lacks conviction and you can both hear it.

“It’s late and no one ever comes back here.” His hand slips between your thighs, pushing your undergarments aside. “And I need you now.”

It’s a thrilling admission made all the more compelling by his long fingers stroking your slick folds and circling your clit.

“Oh, you did miss me,” he breathes as he slides a finger inside of you. “My poor little kitchen maid, so slick and unsatisfied.”

You are aching and a whimper catches in the back of your throat as he presses the heel of his hand against your clit. You grab his shoulders as a second finger joins the first. “Please, I need—”

“What do you need?” he purrs as he curls his fingers. “Do you need to come before I fuck you into this wall?”

You nod, panting. “Please.”

He chuckles darkly. “Darling, you know that’s not good enough.”

Your clit is throbbing as you tense around his fingers. You’re so close and his time away has left you needy and desperate. “Make me come, Loki. Please.”

His grin is wicked. “Good girl.”

His eyes take on a particular kind of focus that you only ever see when he’s got you hot and bothered and chasing an orgasm. His fingers are fucking into you with a slow precision, the heel of his palm grinding against your throbbing clit, nudging you closer.

“You’re so close,” he says, looking at you hungrily. “I love it when you’re like this, all wild and wanton.” He licks his lips. “You’re going to have to be quiet, though. Can you do that, darling?”

You manage a nod, but barely. The leg that’s not hooked around his waist is trembling.

“I’ve got you, sweet,” he murmurs, his arm firmly squeezing your waist. “Let go. Come for me.”

Your breath is coming in quick, shallow bursts. The instruction to be quiet seemed doable at first, but the feeling that’s cresting inside of you is so much bigger and stronger than you thought. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet.

“Loki,” you gasp in the last few seconds. “I can’t—”

Somehow, he understands your meaning because he covers your mouth with his, muffling your cries as you come hard, your fingernails digging into his back as you shake so hard your leg threatens to give out.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until the last shudder pulses through you.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” he says reverently. “Just lovely.”

“Please—”

You don’t have to say any more. He fumbles with the fastenings on his trousers and frees his cock. There’s no teasing, no delay as he positions himself at your entrance—he wants you too badly to play his usual games, his desire heightened by your weeks apart. He slides into you easily, lifting you fully off the floor as he sheathes himself in you. You whimper and he sighs, mumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Norns, I missed this,” he murmurs, leaning back in to kiss you.

If you’d planned things properly, you would be back in his room or somewhere private where you could be as loud as you needed to be. This reunion has awoken something primal and hungry in both of you and staying quiet is a struggle. His hips take up a quick pace, driving into you with a speed and force that speaks to the profound need that had brought you to the corner of the library in the first place. He quickly finds the angle that makes you see stars and soon enough, you’re trembling around him.

“You take my cock so well, darling,” he mumbles against your throat, teeth scraping against the tender skin. “So good for me, so tight.”

“I’m so close—”

“I know, lovely, I can feel you.” He presses his forehead against yours, emerald eyes intent. “Come with me,” he grits out.

You keep your eyes locked with his until the force of your orgasm tips your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering shut as you clench around his cock. He is close behind, gasping out your name as he buries his face in your neck.

It’s a good minute or so before he withdraws, and he seems reluctant to do so. There is something decadent and scandalous about his spend dripping down the inside of your thigh, but you decide you rather like the feeling. It makes you feel like his in a very raw and primal way.

You try not to think about the fact that you have any desire to be his.

He takes your hands in his and a green light spreads over the two of you. When it dissipates, you find yourself in his chambers, in front of his bed.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” you ask.

“It requires some concentration and my mind was singularly occupied,” he says. “I can’t imagine that you would have been very pleased had we arrived in separate places.”

He is right, but you don't want to say as much.

“I’d thought that your skill with magic was too great for such silly mistakes,” you say instead.

“I see my absence has not blunted your tongue.”

You smirk. “I hope you didn’t expect it to. I could not bear for you to be disappointed.”

He chuckles. “Not at all.”

He kisses you again and it’s slow and intimate in a way you don’t expect, in a way that warms you from the inside out.

“I’ve quite forgotten what you look like in my bed,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I suppose I could remind you,” you say.

He kisses you once more. “Turn around.”

He undoes the buttons on the back of your dress with achingly slow precision, pressing soft kisses against the back of your neck and all along your shoulders and spine. Your dress and then your shift and undergarments fall to the floor until you are bare before him.

His fingertips lightly trail along your rib cage and under the curve of your breasts. You suck in a shaky breath. You’ve just had him, but you’re already aching for him again.

His thumbs brush against your nipples and a soft moan falls from your lips.

“You can’t possibly need me again so soon,” he says, but you can tell from the rasp in his voice that this is not one-sided in the slightest. “You’re still dripping with my seed.”

You arch your back so that your ass presses against the growing bulge in his trousers. “You speak as though I am the only one with such a need.”

He hums, pressing back against you. “Perhaps you’re not.”

You look over your shoulder. “Well, your highness?”

He laughs low in his throat, one hand sliding between your legs, gently circling your still sensitive clit. “And here I thought you would be too sated for such boldness.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to try harder this time.”

You’re immediately gratified by the feeling of his bare skin at your back and you barely suppress a shiver. Typically if he resorts to magic to remove his clothes, it ends quite enjoyably for you.

“Perhaps I’ll fuck the boldness right out of you,” he says, his voice growing dark in a way that makes the muscles of your cunt ache in anticipation. You bend at the waist, bracing your hands against the edge of the bed to support yourself as he drags his cock along your dripping folds. “You speak sharply now, but we both know that you turn into a whimpering mess the moment you have my cock in your tight and greedy cunt.”

Quite suddenly, he’s at your entrance and pressing into you, his passage eased by the heady combination of your slickness and his come from earlier. Your back arches and you push up on your tiptoes, trying to take him deeper.

You can’t quite help the sigh that escapes your lips, even though it causes him to chuckle because it proves his point. His fingers massage your clit and you shudder, letting out a soft moan.

“Oh, you’ll have to do better than that, darling,” he says. “It’s been weeks since I last heard you scream for me.”

You cast a glance over your shoulder. “Like I said, highness: you’ll just have to try harder.”

His eyes darken in a way that makes you shiver. “You’ve grown bolder in my absence, love.”

You smirk. “Then teach me a lesson.”

Your intention is to goad him into fucking you hard enough to make the ache of these last few weeks disappear. His wide, feral grin makes you think you might have succeeded.

“Well, darling,” he purrs, his hips snapping hard against you in a way that makes your toes curl, “if you insist.”

He slips easily into a brisk pace, his fingers rubbing languorously at your clit. The contrast between the two is enough to make you moan in a way that’s so so wanton it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Yes, I want to hear all of your lovely noises,” he purrs. “Let me hear how much you missed me.”

His slow pace on your clit is still at odds with the way he’s fucking you and it’s driving you absolutely wild. You’re only getting the added stimulation on every other thrust and while it feels good, it’s not helping you get any closer to coming.

You tolerate it for as long as you can stand, but eventually you can’t help but moan. “Please, Loki.”

“Please what, my love?” he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“More.”

He knows your body well enough at this point that he doesn’t have to ask what you mean—he simply begins massaging your clit in time with the thrust of his cock, making you keen.

“Like that?”

You can only moan in assent and he lets out a low chuckle as he continues with his new pace.

This is what you really needed, you think. His large hand firm on your hips, fingers on your clit, his movements just a little rough, his skin slapping against yours as he drives into you with hard and steady thrusts. You can feel the edge starting to approach, all of your muscles tingling and tensing in anticipation of your release. 

He knows your body well—too well, perhaps—and he recognizes how your muscles tighten and twitch around his cock right before you come undone.

And he stops, withdrawing from you completely. “Not yet,” he says.

The whine you let out is perhaps the most pathetic noise you’ve ever made in your life. “Loki, please.”

He turns you around, silencing your protests with a slow, deep kiss. “I need you closer,” he mumbles against your lips.

You let him guide you down onto the bed. While you like it when he takes you from behind, there’s an intimacy to having him on top of you. You can catalog his expressions, count the flecks of gold in his green eyes. You feel simultaneously as though you are perched on a cliff of great height and peering down, but also warm and safe.

It’s a feeling that you probably ought to interrogate; instead you push it from your mind.

He kisses you as he eases back into you and you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

He’s slow and gentle with you. You thought you wanted fast and rough, but this…this is an unexpected perfection. You can feel every inch of him stretching and stroking the velvety inner walls of your cunt and every movement is somehow better than the last.

The buildup is slow and unhurried, the opposite of the library, the opposite of how he’d been driving into you mere moments before. He looks deep into your eyes, interrupted only when your lashes or his flutter shut against the rising tides within you both. It’s stirring something in your heart and you find yourself wanting to tell him that you missed this, you missed him, but the words stick in your throat and you suppose that’s probably for the best because these sort of things shouldn’t be spoken aloud when you are a servant who is bedding a prince in secret.

You shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Probably not ever. Instead, you draw your focus to the coil that is slowly winding in the pit of your stomach and roll your hips up to meet his slow thrusts. You pull him down to kiss you, hoping that his focus on taking you to your peak eclipses the fact that there’s far too much feeling in your kiss.

And moments later, your toes curl one last time and you cry out as you completely unravel. He groans deeply and gives two more sharp thrusts before he succumbs to his own bliss.

He gradually slows to a halt, dropping his head to your chest as he catches his breath. You close your eyes, relishing the feel of him on top of you, still pressed inside you, the feel of his sheets on your back. You missed this. You missed him. You—

You shouldn’t continue that thought. You shouldn’t admit to that feeling, even to yourself. It’s stupid. It’s dangerous.

Don’t say it. Don’t think it.

Loki gives a satisfied sigh, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The next time I say I need to be away for weeks at a time, tell me I’m a fool,” he mumbles.

“I’ll tell you you’re a fool regardless of your travel plans,” you say.

His laughter rumbling against your bare skin might be one of the best sounds in the world. “I would expect no less.”

He eases out of you, vanishing the mess and quickly pulling you to his side. You rest your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his chest, draping your leg across his stomach for good measure.

“Did it go well?” you say after a moment of quiet. “Your business on Midgard, I mean.”

He sighs. “It was tedious. I’d rather have stayed here.”

You wonder if he means here on Asgard or here in bed with you. You’re not foolish enough to ask, though you are foolish enough to hope.

“I think it sounds exciting,” you say. “I’ve never left Asgard.”

“I’ll take you, someday.”

The promise in those words—and their sheer impossibility—raises a lump in your throat. “I rather think that would be frowned upon,” you say lightly.

“All the more reason for it.” He strokes a hand along your thigh. “And how did you occupy yourself without my stimulating company?”

“Oh, nothing terribly exciting,” you say. “I started reading in the library again.”

“I suppose I have been monopolizing your evenings,” he says, fingers tickling your thigh. “Though I don’t understand why you don’t simply take a book to your quarters.”

You swat at his hand. “You know that’s not permitted.”

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “Neither is this, technically.”

“Yes, well.” You clear your throat. “I’d rather not give anyone more reasons to look more closely at my evening activities for that reason.”

“Am I to understand that you prefer my bed to the finest Asgardian literature?”

“That may be your understanding, but that’s not what I said.”

“Well.” He presses a kiss against the top of your head. “I suppose I’ll have to make my bed more tempting, then.”

It’s the sort of offhand comment you write off as a silly flirtation—he doesn’t mean anything by it, surely. It’s entirely forgettable.

Except…the next night, there’s a stack of books for you beside his bed.

“What’s this?” you say, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“I told you I intended to make my bed more tempting,” he says.

His eyes are glittering with mischief, but the gesture itself is achingly sweet, one that plucks at your heartstrings and reminds you of all the feelings that you’re pretending you’re not having. He had retrieved the book you’d been reading last night, along with titles by authors you mentioned liking back in the garden so many weeks ago. 

That night, he makes you read aloud from a book of love poems while he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue moving in iambs and dactyls on your clit until you come with poetry and his name on your lips. In the afterglow, you curl up next to him and read while he does the same, until you need each other again. It’s a new part of your routine, one that you’ll repeat many times in the coming days.

It’s there in the hazy paradise between prose and the bliss of his touch that a small, secret voice inside of you begins to admit that as much as you say it’s a harmless bit of fun, the situation has spiraled out of control in the worst possible way:

You’ve fallen in love with him. And you know it’s only a matter of time before he breaks your heart.

Next chapter coming soon

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Six

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

(Got requested to make a Shadowpeach bot, thought I’d drop it here. And speaking of bot requests, drop yours here!)

“C’mon, kiddo. It’s a simple question. I’m not gonna get mad, I promise.”

You take a moment to think. There’s… a lot to say, isn’t there? Having known the monkey for just over a year now, there’s not much of yourself that’s been unshared. How many times did you bare your heart to this man?

…and would one more really hurt?

Swallowing the last bit of a white chocolate and caramel mooncake, you set down the stained napkin it was held in and throw the pastry back with a sip of tea. Deep breaths, now.

You’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, anyways.

“…you’re the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man’s heart crack before.

But there’s an eventual moment there, after the initial jerk of his body, after the instinctive clench of his hand, after the flinch spurred by the mooncake’s insides spilling onto his lap… that Macaque softens.

“…I am?” Is the first question, and his voice is soft, feathery and wavering. This isn’t what he expected. This isn’t what he prepared for.

What you’ve said slides far past the realm of all his schemes and carefully curated words, all his fastidious planning.

How could he have expected this?

You were supposed to respect him! Fear him!

But what you feel for him is- is a word he hasn’t said for a very long time. It’s a word he hasn’t even thought of.

Hotter than hatred. Deeper than despair.

Love.

The word leaves his chest empty, his breath spent. God, it hurts.

When was the last time he was loved? When, without hesitation he was adored? When he was Wanted?

“…kid. C’mere.”

Macaque doesn’t wait for a response- he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you flush, the thrum of his heart speeding up at the closeness.

You’re one of the only good things he has. He’s lost or destroyed or driven away the rest, all that was or could have been. Macaque doesn’t like to think of his sins- it’s easier to play the victim card.

If he thinks of Sun Wukong as the bad guy, it’s easier to live with what he’s done. To live with manipulating and betraying and stealing and trying to kill. If he throws all the blame onto the Monkey King, then Macaque can pretend to be a good person.

Paint himself white. Paint Wukong black. Ignore the unevenly gray reality.

And he can live with hurting innocent people and destroying their homes and stealing their powers and trying to take their lives.

(But something deep down knows and burns with the knowledge that he’s more monster than man, that he lost all right to be loved with the worst of his unrepentant actions.)

(It aches a little more that uncaring and unregretted deception is what led you to him.)

(He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve anyone. And he knows that it’s wrong to utilize shrouds and veils to keep you in the dark, that it’s wrong to manipulate you, that it’s wrong to groom you into being his shadowy successor, into inheriting his selfish hatred.)

(But when has a villain ever cared about being wrong?)

Macaque rather quickly shoves you away , jumping to his feet with a fanged and glittering grin.

“Stay here, kid. I’m gonna grab you something I’ve been putting together, okay?”

With a curt nod you settle into place, taking the opportunity to stretch and yawn. You had been getting tired, and take this opportunity to reach for the lotus paste mooncake you had been nibbling on- only to find it gone.

Funny. You don’t remember finishing it.

And… there’s a blanket around your shoulders. Did Macaque put it there? You certainly don’t remember something like that happening.

Maybe things had just gotten so cozy that you drifted off for a minute or two, and he had left to fetch you the black and purple quilt.

That was probably it, yeah.

You shrug the weighty comforter from your shoulders, hoping to shake the supposed sleep from your eyes. In hopes of waking up a little further, you stride to the potted plants that had become a fixture in Macaque’s house.

Beneath the brilliantly blooming tansies and dahlias, red roses have begun to sprout and bud, colorful petals peeking from underneath their green sheathes.

Stuffing in a few spikes of fertilizer, you sprinkle the soil with a light dousing of water.

The thing that breaks you from the quaint task is the telltale chime of your phone, an old song playing loudly. But it doesn’t play very long- it seems your calls don’t hold for very long anymore.

———————————————————————-

Rumble and Savage don’t know much about the world yet. There’s a lot to catch up on, in this new world of neon and metal.

Little glittering rectangles that beam light through black screens and send sound miles away in an instant.

“Phones,” Macaque had called them, dangling yours by the bejeweled strap. Both items had been a gift from Mei, a girl you were well on track to becoming friends with. “Hit this button if it starts making noise. I don’t want anything taking the kid’s attention away.”

Seeing no reason to argue with their creator, both had wholeheartedly agreed to keep vigil over your electric-filled “phone” and hit the de-activating lever when it sounded.

Like this moment right now.

Together, they scrabble to unlock the phone, clawed fingers moving just out of sync as the two simians work to punch in your passcode.

Once it’s open, Savage rips the phone from his younger brother’s hands, boosting himself into your bed to put some distance between him and his junior shadow.

As Rumble tries to climb the bed himself in opposition to his brother’s lashing tail, Savage takes note of a little red dot in the bottom right corner of your screen.

An incoming call. From MK.

The elder of the two goes still for a moment, then snaps his claw against the power button harshly enough to leave a scratch through the metal nub. Angered by the mere sight of an enemy’s name, Savage slings the phone down and snags his little brother by the hair, dragging him into the shadows as Rumble squeals and struggles.

———————————————————————-

Right when you go to figure out what happened with your phone in the guest room, Mavaque rounds the corner with a bundle of neatly folded cloth.

“Running off already?” The simian lightheartedly asks, using his tail to snag your wrist. He doesn’t hesitate to drag you closer, pushing the outfit into your arms.

“Go get changed,” is the command he gives, before you can start asking questions. “Bathroom is that way, remember? Hurry it up!”

A push to the north, and you’re stumbling into the tiled room before realizing what’s happening. It seems sometimes as though your hands move of their own will and volition when Macaque gives you a command.

The garb is easy to put on, a black and yellow ru. Though you fumble the sash, the bandana comes easily around your throat. Black boots with gold brim. Red pants.

You look like a little “Mini Macaque”, or a very seasoned cosplayer.

“C’mon, kid! Hurry it up and come here!”

You stumble from the bathroom and into the living room once more, unsteady with the new gear. Macaque snags you close again and rights the sash, then flops back down onto his cushion.

He never been this excited before.

Something’s up.

“I want to tell you a little tale- come and sit with me, kiddo.”

Macaque pats the cushion nearest to his own, looking almost soft again. He’s already got the blanket in his hands, ready to unfold and drape it around your shoulders.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hi! Omg I loved reading your Rhys x reader secret pregnancy fic! May I please request a Lucien x reader where he’s been cursed to stay in the form of an actual fox and the then reader comes along to break his curse? Thank you!!

Cursed

Summary: The mother liked being cruel to Lucien. First she had him lose his eye, and now his body.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: mention of being a child of forced intimate relation, other than that, I'm not sure there is more, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: my love, my heart, my baby anon. come here so i can sing you to sleep and cuddle with you because holyyyy shit i love this idea aaaahhhhh. (i am ready to be your tumblr wifey)

also, the beginning is basically our Y/n trauma/info dumping

anyways, enjoy!

(I had fun talking to you about this @artists-ally)

•○🌑○•

A twig snapped behind Y/n, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.

After wondering for a moment if she should ignore the animal, she decided to turn to look.

There, next to a mighty tree, crouched the fox. Abnormally large, fluffier than a normal fox, it had been following Y/n around for the better part of the week.

The moment Y/n met the fox's mismatched eyes, it tensed, as if ready to bolt. But then, after a moment, it relaxed, again staring at Y/n curiously.

The problem wasn't the fact that it was a fox. No, there were plenty of foxes in the forest near Y/n's home. But those foxes didn't follow her around or sit outside her door at all hours.

This one did all of that.

She wouldn't have been much bothered if it had been a normal fox following her around. But this one had a weird aura about it, like it was not an ordinary fox.

The fox suddenly moved, slowly prowling towards Y/n. She watched it, its body moving and navigating through the roots and fallen branches graciously, as if it were an elegant lady in the royal court.

Y/n shook her head, turning away and continuing on her journey to the cluster of trees deep into the forest to collect some fruit for herself.

The fox fell in step beside her.

She did her best to ignore the animal, though its unnatural aura kept her glancing at it.

Unfortunately, it also had her distracted, and she almost didn't pull up the hood of her cloak when a mortal man walked into view, carrying a bunch of firewood on his back.

But thank the forgotten gods, the man was too busy grumbling to himself to notice the pointed tips of her ears before she covered them.

Being a half fae was hard when living among mortals.

She could get killed if anyone found out about her heritage, and that was the only real reason she had for living on the outskirts of the small town, right next to where the forest started and away from the mortals.

And honestly, she cursed whoever the bastard was that had raped her mother and sired her for the inconvenience.

But she couldn't go down that path of thought, because if she did, she would just end up on the same thought that had her staying up at night and bawling her eyes out.

She was lonely.

It had nothing to do with the solitude of her house. No. It was because she was a half fae, and while other girls her age would mingle with other young men or whoever caught their fancy, she could not do so for fear of being killed.

She also had no family, her mother having died when Y/n was still young. Y/n had no siblings or relatives who could have taken her in, and so, she had learned to take care of herself.

She had also early on learned that the world didn't take kindly to people that were even remotely different from their perception of normal.

Especially beings who had a reputation to torture innocent souls for fun.

Y/n could not blame mortals for hating fae, as she herself hated them, though for completely different reasons.

It was not the best experience when you were scorned by the people you were a part of.

Hated by mortals for being a product of human-fae union, and hated by fae for being a half breed.

She sighed, shooing those thoughts away as she reached the cluster of trees she had been on the journey to, and set down her basket for a moment, stretching.

The fox settled down under an apple tree, and simply stared at Y/n as she went about plucking different fruits and berries and piling them in her basket.

Once she was done, she turned to glance at the fox, who sat unnaturally still.

She thought for a moment, then picked out a juicy apple from her basket. "You want one?"

The fox kept staring at her, and Y/n felt silly for trying to communicate with a fox. She huffed, putting the apple back in her basket and beginning to make the journey back to her little cottage.

•○🌑○•

"Do you think it will storm?"

The fox cocked its head, staring up at the sky before making a small noise, which Y/n took as affirmation.

"I think so too."

While a month ago Y/n would have laughed at herself for talking to -trying to talk to- an animal, now it had become normal. The darn fox never left her side nowadays, and Y/n had grown fond of him, letting him into her house and keeping him fed and warm. She had even named him Rusty.

Rusty glanced at Y/n before it settled down, laying his head on her lap, snuggling into the soft and fluffy material of her thick leggings.

A small smile made its way onto Y/n's face, and her hand lifted of its own accord, burying itself into the fur on the top of his head.

Y/n still remembered how she had felt uncomfortable around the fox because of the unnatural aura it gave off, but she had gotten used to it. Now, it was a companion who Y/n simply adored.

A long moment passed, and Y/n was not entirely sure it wasn't hours, but the sky darkened just a fraction.

Y/n glanced up in confusion, because she was sure it had been brighter just a moment before. Suddenly, the warmth in her lap vanished, and Y/n's head snapped down, her brows furrowed.

Rusty was no longer next to Y/n. He was across the clearing, and Y/n could not fathom how he had crossed the vast area so quickly. Her suspicions about him grew, and she realized his body was beginning to shake.

Y/n quickly rolled to her feet, her eyes growing wide when he began spasming, a tortured whine escaping him. She could do nothing but stare as his paws dug into the soft ground, pain filled sounds continuing to rip from him.

The moment Y/n stepped forward, hoping to do something to help Rusty, his head snapped up, a low growl he emitted leaving her frozen in place. And his eyes...

They were glowing.

Unnatural, completely otherworldly brightness radiated from him, his aura becoming ten times different from what it had been.

Y/n watched, her blood chilling, as he continued to struggle until the smell of something burnt reach Y/n.

Everything stilled after that, and Rusty collapsed, breaths heaving out of him.

And, the place where his paws had been, was nothing but burnt remains of the leaves fallen from the trees

Y/n studied the fox until he had gained enough strength to stand again, and his eyes stared back at Y/n.

She swallowed as the fox prowled closer. "You are not a real fox, are you?"

Rusty swung his head from side to side, his eyes boring into Y/n.

She nodded, wondering why she was even surprised. "Are you fae?"

His head dipped.

Y/n dragged her palms down her face, trying not to lose her shit.

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

He cocked his head, as if questioning her how he was supposed to answer.

She released a frustrated breath, going through all the reasons why a shapeshifter would follow her around.

She could only find one reasonable reason.

"Have you... have you been cursed?"

The fox dipped his head slowly, and Y/n took a step back, horrified.

"And you are here because you... what? Want me to break you free?"

The fox whined, taking a step forward.

"No." She stepped back again, continuing until her back hit a tree. "Fuck. No. I will not be used and discarded by you too. I will not..."

The sadness in the fox's -Rusty's -eyes nearly brought Y/n to her knees, but the fox simply dipped its head again after a moment, turning and prowling away from the clearing and, in turn, Y/n.

She watched him go, his shoulders curved inwards, looking defeated.

And, despite her instincts telling her to go behind him, she turned away too, walking in the opposite direction, towards her small hut.

•○🌑○•

The windows shook, their sound a little too loud in the small home, and Y/n's fingers curled tighter on the book, the pages crinkling under her fingers.

Thunder cracked somewhere, and Y/n flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. With a sigh, she put her book away, tugging her blanket closer for warmth. She turned to look out the window, where it was completely dark, not one tree visible.

And, despite her attempts at trying to ignore her worries about Rusty, she could not help but wonder where he was.

Was he somewhere in the forest, getting soaked by the rain, shivering?

Was he wandering around hopelessly, hoping someone took pity on him?

Y/n shook her head, telling herself she did not care.

But of course, she did.

Since the moment she had turned away from his retreating form, she had not been able to think about anything but him.

Y/n had never had anyone that particularly cared about her, so having even a damned fox use her for his own gain cut something deep in her heart.

But then a thought occurred to her, and all her feelings of betrayal were forgotten.

What if it is a child?

Or what if it is just like me, never had anyone who cared?

What if he gets incinerated in the storm by lightning?

Oh fuck it.

The second to last thought was what snapped Y/n's restraint, and she grabbed her cloak, lit a lantern, and set off to find her Rusty.

•○🌑○•

The rain made it even harder to see in the night, but Y/n soldiered on, determined to rescue the damsel in distress. Though the damsel was a male and could probably not be in distress.

He could have found a cave to snooze in, and Y/n was setting herself up to be sick for nothing.

Her heart didn't seem to care for that judging by the way it was screeching in her ears.

A flash of light caught Y/n's eyes, and she stilled, lifting her lantern higher, hoping she had finally found the sneaky bastard.

It was just a piece of glass, and Y/n cursed whoever had thrown it here.

After a long time of searching, Y/n spied a gap in the trees, knowing it led to a small cliff. Her instincts told her to follow the trail, and she decided trusting her heart was the better option than trusting her brain.

She had decided to ignore her heart in that clearing, and now she was stuck in a storm.

Lightning brightened the world for a moment, and Y/n lifted her hand to shield herself as she reached the cliff.

Unfortunately, Rusty was not there as well.

Frustrated, Y/n sighed, turning away from the drop.

And then she paused, her eyes landing on a bush.

Under which lay Rusty, shivering and curled in on himself.

Guilt spread through Y/n, and she stepped closer with caution.

His eyes flew open, his teeth bared as he searched around for a predator.

His eyes widened when he realised it was Y/n who stood in front of him now, and he ducked his head, as if ashamed.

Y/n walked forward, and watched as his shoulders curved inwards, trying to make himself small.

She crouched, extending her hands towards him, and he stared at it for a moment, then at Y/n before taking a tentative step closer, gaining more confidence when her hand remained unwavering. He stopped a few with his face a few inches away from her hand, and she reached out to pet his nose.

"Come," she whispered, "let's go home."

He stared at her for a moment longer, and Y/n felt like there were tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure because it could very well be rain water.

Navigating the forest to return home was much easier and faster than it had been searching for Rusty, and Y/n was glad about that, as she could think of nothing but changing into warm clothes and getting warmed in front of her fireplace now that she had finally found Rusty. Also, she had to wash Rusty and feed him. It had been long since he had left and Y/n doubted that he had eaten anything.

As soon as Y/n stepped foot inside her home, she shucked off her cloak, setting down her lantern and turning to find that Rusty still hadn't crossed the threshold.

"Come on in, Rusty."

She beckoned to him, and he trotted in, shaking his head to get rid of the water.

"Let's get you into a warm bath first."

Y/n hurried into the bathing room and turned on the faucets, letting the tub fill with warm water. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced back to see Rusty sitting patiently by the door, like a gentleman. Y/n smiled.

"Get in." She told him when the water had filled to the point she knew he liked. "I will go and get changed, and you get yourself cleaned up until then. We can have food after."

At the last part, his head snapped up, his eyes wide. But then he jumped into the tub, and Y/n was left to wonder why he seemed so shocked.

•○🌑○•

Y/n wrapped the tiny towel around Rusty, giggling at how funny he looked before she placed the red coloured bowl in front of Rusty, his favourite.

She stared at him as he began eating, and stared, and stared.

The air changed the moment he took his first bite, growing thicker and heavier with every moment that passed.

Confused, Y/n glanced behind her, and when she turned back to rusty, she let out a small scream.

In the place that Rusty had been occupying, sat a man... naked.

Y/n had never climbed to her feet so quick in her whole life as she did then, covering her eyes. But then she peeked out from between her fingers, seeing him blushing furiously while trying to cover up his private parts with the tiny towel. It was barely enough to cover up his chest, so he had to hold it with both hands like a curtain in front of his hips.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n screeched.

She noticed now that he had hair like liquid flame, his eyes were mismatched, and he was... fae.

Realisation washed through Y/n.

"You- You're Rusty."

He grimaced. "Yeah, though I am a little concerned with that name. Can we please not use that? Like, Rusty? Really?"

Y/n let her hands fall to her side, settling on her hips. "You bastard, you should be grateful I let you stay and gave you a name. Imagine how weird it would have been in if I called you fox."

"Yeah, I think that would have been better than Rusty."

Y/n scoffed. After a moment, she spoke again, struggling hard to keep her gaze on his. She deserved a fucking medal for it.

"So... what was your curse? And who had so much free time to put one on you?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Don't you think this is kind of inappropriate to talk about while I'm naked?"

Y/n rolled her eyes as she moved past him, walking into her bedroom. "You never had a problem before when you pranced about, wooing all the female foxes."

She was now sure he was grinning when he replied. "Yeah well, they didn't wear any clothes either. If you were to strip..."

Y/n whipped around from where she was rummaging in her closet for something to gape at him. He grinned, leaning against the doorframe, his hands folded against his chest.

That meant-

Y/n turned away from him just as fast as she had turned to him, and no matter how much she denied it, the image of him... it would be forever embedded in her mind.

"Asshole." She mumbled under her breath, her hand landing on a piece of clothing she was unfamiliar with.

It was a pant she had stolen years ago, and later realised it had been too big for her. It would have to do.

Without turning, Y/n threw the pants over her shoulder, and by the lack of sound, knew Rusty had caught it.

It was a few moment before he hummed, letting her know he was done, and Y/n turned, her mouth going dry at all the muscle displayed.

She hadn't had the time to appreciate what she saw before, as she was trying not to make a fool of herself by staring at his privates, but now that he was covered from the waist down, she could not help but stare at what she could see.

"Like what you see?"

Y/n's eyes flashed up, colour staining her cheeks as she huffed.

"Of course not. You are still Rusty for me, and I'd never think of someone called Rusty as anything I like."

He scoffed. "Please, my name is Lucien. I'd appreciate it if you stop referring to me as Rusty."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "No."

He sighed. "Very well, my lady. If that is what you wish for. After all, you broke my curse, I can't really order you around anymore."

"Yes, about that curse. Care to elaborate now that you are appropriate?"

He nodded, a seriousness coming over him. He followed her as she led him back out, settling down in front of the fireplace as she boiled some water for tea.

Once the tea was ready, Y/n passed one cup to Rusty- Lucien- and studied him, watching as he fumbled a little with the cup before he got a good grip on it.

"Let's start from the beginning." She nodded her head for him to continue. "Do you remember the most recent war that happened?"

She nodded. The destruction had been immense, according to what she had heard through rumours, but she lived far enough away from the wall that no harm reached her.

"There was a continent called Hybern. One of my closest friends was pretending to aid Hybern so he could gather intel about the kingdom's and the king's inner workings so he could help Prythian when the inevitable war came. Soldiers from Hybern had stolen the cauldron from its resting place in Prythian, and they knew that it could make anyone young and immortal."

"What is the cauldron?"

Lucien glanced at Y/n with raised brows, but explained to her what the cauldron was, who the mother was, and all the things that probably didn't matter to the story just because she didn't know about them.

A power like that? People would kill for it. Y/n thought.

"My friend's past lover, who had been mated to another high lord, arrived in Hybern, and realised her sisters had been kidnapped. The king ordered the sisters to be put into the cauldron. One of them turned out to be my... mate."

The jealousy that ripped through Y/n was unmatched from anything she had ever felt. And for what? The mention of someone she did not even know? Ridiculous.

"The older one, she apparently took something from the cauldron, in turn making the cauldron take away the youth from the human queen put in after her. The queen was furious, and she allied with a powerful death sorcerer."

"He found out about my... relationship with one of the sisters, and before we killed him, put a curse on me, because I was standing the closest to him. He turned me into a fox, and I could only be turned back if someone who loathed fae gave me shelter and food, even after knowing I was fae."

"Powerful death sorcerer, and all he could think of for his last breath was to turn you into a fox." Y/n muttered under her breath.

A breathy laugh escaped Lucien, which then full on turned into howls of laughter.

"So, what, your mate could not help?"

"She probably could have, given she couldn't bear being near me, but she wouldn't have. Me being a fox gave her freedom to pursue whomever she wished."

Y/n sighed. "Is everyone from the other side of the wall dumb?"

He shook his head, staring into the embers of the fire, though a smile remained on his mouth. Y/n glanced out the window, realising the sun was starting to rise.

"We should probably get some sleep."

Lucien followed her gaze to out the window, and he nodded.

"I will take the couch, you should sleep on your bed."

"Nonsense. You have been invading my space for the past month like your life depends on it. It won't be a big deal if you sleep next to me."

"Sleep next to you, not with you?"

"You know what? You can sleep on the porch."

He laughed, standing and pulling Y/n to her feet.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Thank you."

Y/n blushed, shaking her head.

"I will leave as soon as I can."

Hurt pierced Y/n's heart like a bolt from hell. "Why?"

His brows furrowed. "Why? I have taken enough advantage of you. I don't want to impose."

She shook her head again. "I like when you impose."

He smiled.

"If you say so."

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Lucien Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @mirandasidefics @sidrapotter @hnyclover

[sagelasters]

𓇼 Metaphysical philosophers, connection to the mind.

Anne Conway 

Lady Anne Conway was one of the few female philosophers in the seventeenth-century and notable for her legacy in STEM. Her work consisted of the three layer hierarchy, in which she classified them as ‘species', Anne believed that although all creatures are born with a body, the spirit/soul/mind is better and has the possibility to be perfect like ‘God’. She rejects the material world and explains that suffering is a part of spiritual recovery. All creatures have the potential to be ‘perfect’, but nowhere near the perfection of ‘God’, she stated. The context of ‘God’ here can be interpreted in a different lens, it doesn’t necessarily entail religions. The context of so-called creatures are human beings limited by the laws of our Earthly realm. ‘God’ however are the ones who broke free, it is the limitless consciousness, it is the ego. 

Gargi Vachaknavi

Gargi Vachaknavi is a notable Vedic scholar and daughter of sage Vachaknu, she explores the knowledge of metaphysics and what was beyond the body. Gargi explains the journey of ‘koham’ (Who AM I?) and that the inquisitive mind aids us in the revolution of finding ‘soham’ (I AM). She challenged the notions of existence by daring to ask challenging questions like, what was the ‘woven, warp and woof’? Referring to what is beyond human understanding of the world beyond the sky and earth. It is notable that Hinduism seems to be the few religions where divine knowledge can be passed to both men and women equally. Although there is sadly a lack of English source materials, Gargi’s philosophy revolves around the fundamental ontology of the world. 

Plato

Plato is one of the oldest philosophers during the Classical era in Ancient Greece. He is a big believer in Dualism, separating the body and mind into two substances (the mind can live without the body even after death). His most famous theory is allegory of the cave where prisoners trapped in a cave believed that the shadows on the wall were their reality, the prisoners regarded the cave as true and nothing else outside of it exists. Eventually, one of the prisoners steps outside and is faced with true reality or enlightenment. The prisoner returned to the cave and tried to tell his peers, only to meet with hostility because everything they’ve known their entire life was false. The lesson of his allegory was the escape from ignorance, one must question every assumption they have about the reality they call ‘real’. Plato believed that reality is created by the mind. 

Hypatia of Alexandria 

Hypatia was a renowned astronomer, mathematician, hellenist, and philosopher in the Classical era of the Roman Empire. Most of her work did not survive through the test of time, but she was a strong believer in Neoplatonism. Neoplatonism was coined from Plato’s Platonic theory that argues that the world which we experience is only a copy of an ideal reality in which lies beyond our material world. Overall, Neoplatonists believed that happiness and prosperity can exist without an afterlife. Hypatia’s belief in Neoplatonism drove her to seek knowledge in mathematics and astronomy.  

[simplybakugou]

Story Mode 3 | Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route

⋆ PAIRING: gamer/streamer!kaminari x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: mentions of hospital and stab wound; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1.1K

A/N: i finished this at 1 am last night but passed out right after so proofreading this was a journey lmao. we're getting so close to the end!

NOTE: credits to @eraserhead-transparents for the kaminari cap

Mystic Academia: Kaminari Denki's Route Masterlist

The curtain dividing Kaminari’s hospital space got pulled back once more, this time Sero entering the small room. He had a worried expression plastered on his face.

“Did Deku leave?” Sero asked.

Kaminari sat up, wincing when he subconsciously and absentmindedly used his injured arm to move himself. “Yeah he left like ten minutes ago. Where’d you go?”

“I was in the chat room,” Sero blurted out.

Kaminari put Sero’s fidgeting fingers and his nervous nature together as he pursed his lips at his friend. “You told them what actually happened, didn’t you?”

“They kept asking questions, man! I don’t like lying, you know that,” Sero uttered exasperatedly. 

“I didn’t want them to worry…”

“I know and I get that. Just don’t be surprised when you get an angry visitor.” Sero raised his hands up in front of him in defense. 

“Oh god, Mina’s on her way isn’t she?” Kaminari questioned, cringing at the thought of Mina yelling at him like she usually does when he does something stupid.

“I’m not telling you anything, alright?” Sero turned around swiftly, pulling the curtain again to make his exit. “I’ll be in the waiting room if you need me.”

“Hey! Get back here, you traitor!” Kaminari exclaimed out to Sero, who ignored his pleas and left.

Kaminari leaned back in his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he waited in anticipation. He was convinced Mina was on her way. Or could it be Bakugou that was visiting him? He certainly was angry about the reckless plan Sero and Kaminari had come up with. 

A very large part of Kaminari wanted you to come visit him but he told himself it wasn’t going to happen. You were busy with planning for the party which was happening quite literally tomorrow. He knew you already had a lot in your hands to deal with, which was a major reason why he wanted to keep his wound a secret. 

Also, why would you visit? Everyone kept teasing him about his “relationship” with you, but it could barely be considered a relationship. You both expressed your likeness to one another and that was as far as things got. Who knew if you even liked him enough to visit him anyways…

As Kaminari was swept away in his self-deprecating thoughts, the curtain pulled back once more and Kaminari rolled his eyes internally. “How many times are you gonna barge in here, dude?!”

His eyes flicked downwards to the curtain, taken completely aback when Sero wasn’t standing before him. Instead a woman was. And she looked pissed.

“Um, sorry I think you have the wrong roo–” Kaminari stopped mid-sentence. There was no reason for a random woman to be angry with him… unless…

“Y/N?!” Kaminari exclaimed, sitting up in his bed. He was completely dumbfounded. He had just convinced himself that he wouldn’t see you that night, but here you were. 

You approached his bed, examining his physical state until your eyes landed on his bandaged arm. Your jaw clenched in anger as you looked back to his face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Kaminari couldn’t respond as he was still processing what had just happened. While texting with you in the chat rooms, his rudimentary brain couldn’t help but create an image of what you looked like. Sometimes you were a celebrity and other times you were just a grey figure he was talking to. But there was no way for his simple brain to ever imagine someone this beautiful to stand before him.

You sat yourself down on the same stool Deku had sat on moments ago. You gingerly grabbed Kaminari’s hand, turning his wrist gently to look at the bandage. “How could you be so reckless?!”

You continued to express how upset you truly were, asking empty but exasperated questions but Kaminari couldn’t hear a word. He was focused on how warm your touch was against his and how soft your fingers were on his skin. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine this scenario… 

“Are you even listening to me?” You asked, even more angered than you were initially. 

Kaminari snapped out of the daze he was in as his golden eyes met your (E/C) ones. Even when you were pissed at him you looked adorable. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your face heated up immediately and to Kaminari’s disappointment you dropped his hand from yours from your flustered reaction. Kaminari winced slightly as you dropped his arm from your touch and you immediately grabbed his arm, more carefully this time, feeling guilty for hurting him accidentally. 

“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly.

“No,” Kaminari said, his voice strained. He hunched over, gripping his arm lightly. “You should give it a kiss to make it feel better.”

Your face fell immediately as you saw him holding back a laugh as if he had done the funniest thing he could’ve come up with. “I should smack you right now.”

Kaminari laughed, sitting up straight, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. “Nah, you like me too much to do that.”

You became flustered once more, not used to this smooth side of him in person. “Shut it.”

Kaminari chuckled, amused at how successfully nervous he had made you, thinking your reaction was adorable. “So, you came running over when you found out I got hurt?”

“No, I came running over to yell at you,” You corrected him, even though it was mostly out of concern. 

Kaminari straightened up as he looked at you intensely and more seriously. “I’m sorry for making Sero keep this from you… and for lying to you.”

“You better be.” You narrowed your brows at him. “Don’t ever do something like this again, alright? I don’t care how long I’ve been in this organization. You can’t go and do something this reckless even if it’s for me, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.” Kaminari nodded. “Wait, should you even be here like this? It’s way too dangerous for you to be out this late especially when that Unknown guy is still after us.”

“Worry about yourself first, Kaminari,” you said, shaking your head disapprovingly at him. “The office isn’t too far from the hospital so I called a cab straight here.”

Kaminari’s thumb brushed over your knuckles gently as his hand was still wound tightly in yours. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Kaminari.” He paused for a moment. “I want you to call me Denki. I only want to be Denki to you.”

“Denki,” you repeated, making him grin widely. You smiled shyly at him as you came to your senses at how close the two of you were. His hand felt strong in yours and your stool was so close to his bed. He was subconsciously leaning into you and you knew exactly what was about to happen.

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[himasgod]

Zhongli x Reader

(maybe angst? 0.8k words :p)

Where Zhongli and you talk about mortality in the rite of ascension of an adeptus

The hall of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was plunged into solemn silence. The crackling of candles and the soft scent of incense filled the air as you stood beside Zhongli, watching as Hu Tao made the final preparations. The Rite of the Ascension of an Adeptus was not something you saw every day; it was a unique ceremony, marked by perfection in every detail, from the attire to the weather. Nothing could go wrong. And yet, you felt like something inside you had already begun to crumble.

Zhongli, with his usual composure, watched you from the corner of his eye. His upright, elegant posture reflected centuries of wisdom and experience, but today, there was a shadow in his gaze. Perhaps because this farewell affected not only the Adeptus, but you as well.

“Are you okay?” he asked you, his voice deep, like the echo of a distant mountain. His words, though simple, carried an unwavering weight. You knew that, even if it was silent, he was always watching you, attentive to you in an almost imperceptible way.

You nodded, although you knew your eyes said something else. The farewell of an Adeptus, a being that had coexisted with mortals for millennia, symbolized much more than the departure of a life. It was a reminder of the fragility of existence and how, in the end, everything fades away.

“It is difficult…” you began, hesitating whether to continue. “Watching them leave, when one always thinks that the gods and the Adeptus are immortal, that they will always be there.”

Zhongli was silent for a moment. The candlelight flickered on his face, highlighting the lines of worry in his serene expression. “Adeptus also have their limited time in this world. Although it may not seem so, each of us must, at some point, fulfill our final duty and depart.” His words were cold, like a sentence you could not avoid.

It wasn’t the first time you’d discussed mortality with him. You knew that Zhongli, or rather Rex Lapis, had made his own choice: to leave his position as the Geo Archon and live among mortals. However, that decision didn’t eliminate the gap you felt between the two of you. He was eternal, while you were just a mortal, bound by time.

“And you? Will you one day leave too?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them. You didn’t want to face the possibility of losing him, you didn’t want to admit what that thought did to your heart. But at the same time, you needed to know.

Zhongli stared at you, and in his eyes you saw a mix of understanding and sadness. “I’ve already made my choice,” he said, with a slight sigh. “But the contracts I made with this world have not yet come to an end. When they do, I will also fulfill my own destiny.”

The weight of his words crushed you. You knew he had given up his Gnosis, that he was no longer the god he once was. Yet his connection to Liyue, to mortals, and to the Adeptus, remained a deep and unbreakable bond. And one day, when those bonds were broken, he would be gone too.

The pain of that thought was like a heavy stone on your chest, something you couldn’t ignore. You knew the relationship between the two of you was marked by temporality, but still, you had hoped, perhaps naively, that that moment would never come. “And what will become of me when that moment comes?” you asked in a barely audible whisper, fearing the answer.

Zhongli looked away, gazing at the dancing shadows on the walls of the funeral home. “I will remember you, always. But I am rock, and rock does not change. Only mortals like you are the ones who bring change to this world.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears. It was unfair. He had witnessed millennia of history, seen countless people come and go. To him, you were just one part of his long journey, but to you, he was everything.

“How can you say it so casually?” The desperation in your voice was palpable. “How can you speak of my departure as if it were just one of many?”

Zhongli was silent for a long moment. Then, his golden eyes looked at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. “Because I have learned, after thousands of years, that holding on only brings suffering. Goodbyes are part of the natural cycle of life. What really matters is the impact we leave on others while we are here.”

You felt helpless, knowing he was right, but still, the bitterness of pain consumed you. “And what impact will I leave on you, Zhongli? Will I be just another memory in your eternity?”

He moved closer to you, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, a gesture filled with affection, but also farewell. “You will be more than that,” he said softly. “You will be a contract in my heart, one I will never break.”

But, even with that promise, you knew that one day he would depart, leaving only the echo of his words and the weight of his absence.

And in that moment, you realized there was no consolation for the void he would leave behind.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[fantasyescapes17]

Candle (Part 1)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.8k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

“It is not that I do not wish to marry,” you explained to the maid that was dealing with your hair. The fine silver comb tugged painfully on your scalp, but you had learned to ignore it through continued practice. “I do like the thought of being the lady of my own estate, and having children and a husband who loves me.” 

The maid hummed as she dragged the comb through your hair. “Of course, miss.” 

“But why must all the eligible bachelors of the ton be so dreadfully boring? Every conversation feels the same. If you’ve spoken to one of them, you may as well have spoken to them all,” you complained. “They constantly talk about the same subjects and offer the same compliments.” 

“What would you like them to say instead, miss?” the maid asked lightly. 

“Well, anything that I have not already heard a hundred times before!” you exclaimed as the maid fixed the last pin in your hair and released you. You turned to appraise yourself in the mirror carefully before pouting at your maid. “Daisy, I am not foolish enough to entertain expectations of true love. But is it too much to ask for a husband who will not drive me mad out of boredom? A husband for whom at least a small candle lights up in my heart- never mind a wild and burning flame?” 

Daisy smiled. “You will be late, miss. Your family is waiting downstairs.” 

“But you offer me no reassurances,” you noted with a frown. 

“Do not worry yourself too much, miss. There are plenty of men in London this season that you are  yet to meet. I am certain one of them will light your heart’s candle.” 

You thanked her and then stood up to appraise yourself in the mirror. You had chosen one of your prettiest gowns for the first ball of the season and were pleased with the way the soft pastel colours accentuated your figure and skin. You were not the belle of the ball- you would leave titles like that to more perfect women than you- but you were certainly striking enough to never be left wanting for a dance partner or company. 

God. All this effort to spend your evening listening to men offer you recycled compliments or boast about their fortunes. 

"So her highness finally arrives. I thought perhaps you were waiting for the ball to end," your brother Wonwoo remarked as you walked down to the foyer of your large London home. 

You paid him little mind. Wonwoo was not truly angry about the delay. He had no great love for social engagements or balls and suffered through them in the same way you did, albeit with fewer complaints. 

"Beauty takes time," you replied simply.

"As does the journey to the Hessington's manor. Mother and Father are waiting for us outside."

"It would not be fashionable to arrive too early," you protested. 

Wonwoo simply offered you his arm in silence and you joined your brother in stepping out of your large home and climbing into the lavish carriage that waited on the street outside. Your parents were already seated and your mother smiled when she saw you. 

"Oh darling! You look quite lovely in that dress," she told you happily as the carriage slowly began to take your family to your destination. "I should not be surprised if your  father has a queue of men outside his door to offer for your hand this season."

You smiled. "Thank you, mother. I am sure Father knows best."

Your father raised an eyebrow. He appeared bored. "I know nothing. You are perfectly capable of choosing your own husband. Unless you wish to marry a stable boy, you shall hear no sound from me."

Your mother swatted his arm. "Dearest! How can you say such a thing! It is of utmost importance that our dear daughter is married well and happy- and you must do everything you can to ensure this!"

Mr. Jeon chuckled. "I believe these matters require far more womanly expertise than I possess."

Your mother disregarded him and turned back to you. "Now darling, remember. We are in no hurry. This is only your first season and time and money are on our side. Unlike some of the other foolish mothers of the ton, I know that marrying well is far more important than marrying quickly."

You smiled. "Yes, mother."

"There is no need to accept any offers immediately. Do not court anyone straight away. Wait and watch and analyse. You deserve the very best."

You bit your lip and nodded. You had to admit that your mother's confidence in you made you feel better about your prospects. She was right. There was plenty of time. You were not in any rush and you would wait patiently until the right man for you appeared. 

Hopefully he would. 

"As for you, Wonwoo-" your mother continued, turning to your brother who had been staring out of the window absently. "Although your sister's marriage prospects occupy more of my time and attention than yours, it would be helpful if you at least indulged in a few dances and did not offend all the young ladies that crossed your path by ignoring them or pretending to be absorbed in a book."

Wonwoo flushed. He had been known to hide behind a book in order to avoid the attention of some of the more determined young ladies. Women frequently left your brother's company feeling snubbed. 

"Yes, mother," he replied with a sigh. 

"I want to see you up on the dance floor for at least two dances," she pressed. 

"One," Wonwoo pushed back. 

"Two, this is not a discussion."

Wonwoo decided against arguing with his mother and turned his attention back to the window of the carriage as it clattered noisily along the path to the ball. You chuckled- you could not wait to meet a woman who could put a genuine smile on Jeon Wonwoo's face. A difficult task indeed, but certainly not impossible. 

The carriage stopped once your family arrived at the Hessington's ball. It was an incredibly grand affair. Being the first ball of the season, it would set the standard for all social events during the upcoming months. You could tell that this would be a glamorous season indeed. 

You almost felt nervous. 

"Isn't that your friend?" Wonwoo mumbled to you as your family entered the enormous bustling ballroom full of immaculately dressed men and women. 

"Miss Jeon!" 

You laughed in delight as a young woman in a bright purple dress came over to you and embraced you warmly. It had been many months since you had seen your dear friend Ella Williams.  You wrote to her often but you were no great writer, and letters were not nearly enough to say all that you wished to share. 

“Miss Williams! Oh, I am so delighted to see you here! How have you been?” you demanded of your friend. 

Ella smiled. “I have been wonderful, as always. It is a pleasure to see you as well, Mr. Jeon!” Ella greeted your brother with a bright smile and a polite curtsey. Wonwoo acknowledged her with a small tilt of his head. Ella was no stranger to your brother’s quiet and unenthusiastic manner- so she merely giggled at him and did not take offence. 

“He is upset because he is required to dance twice tonight,” you explained to Ella. “Wonwoo, you might as well ask Ella to dance with you so that half of your promise to mother is fulfilled. Then you need only find one more partner over the course of the evening.” 

Ella batted her eyelashes at your brother. “I would not object to a dance with Mr. Jeon.” 

You waited patiently while Wonwoo signed Ella’s dance card and then wordlessly disappeared further into the room in order to speak to some of his acquaintances. Ella beamed and turned back to you. 

“Well. I shall be the target of much envy when I stand up for a dance with the elusive Mr. Jeon. Oh! But I have so much to tell you, my friend, come with me to the refreshments table and I will show you what I have prepared for us!” 

You allowed Ella to take your arm and pull you towards the refreshments. You both found seats on a bench and she pulled a small black diary out of her pocket that she showed you cheerfully. 

“Guess what this is?” she asked eagerly, but did not allow you time to formulate a response. “I spent the entire summer doing research and have prepared elaborate notes on every single marriage-minded bachelor that will be in attendance this season. I believe the usual clumsy method of turning up to as many social events as we can and simpering at random men only to be disappointed once we learn more about them cannot go on. We are clever women. We must employ the scientific method.” 

You giggled at your friend. “The scientific method? To find a husband?” 

“It is almost perfect! And it took me months to compile- I keep adding to it every time I learn more about any of them."

You looked at her book with a laugh. It really was packed full of notes. This was no small feat that Ella had achieved. 

"How does this help us?" you asked, confused. 

Ella sighed. "My dear friend. Every time a man introduces himself or asks you for a dance, you need only look him up in my little book to know everything about him! Well; perhaps not everything, it is still a work in progress but I am constantly adding to it!"

You looked down at her little book curiously. 

"Ella… you may have created something very valuable," you admitted to her slowly. "I am sure many of the young women in the room would love to have a peek at that little book."

Ella beamed. "Yes, but I shall not share it with anyone but you."

"You really are a wonderful friend."

"Of course I am. Now- have you found any dance partners yet for the evening? I am lucky to have started the evening off strong by securing a dance with your brother- it is my turn to find you an equally excellent partner."

You smiled. "I would be very grateful."

But Ella's efforts were not necessary. As you stood, you were approached by your brother and another handsome young man with a very charming smile.  

"I believe the dancing is about to begin," Wonwoo said simply as he offered his arm to Ella. He paused to look at you. "Sister, allow me to introduce you to my friend Mr. Kim Mingyu."

Mr. Kim Mingyu took your gloved hand into his own and pressed his lips to your knuckles in a suave manner. 

"Miss Jeon. I have heard many wonderful things about you; would you do me the honour of joining me for the next dance?" Mingyu asked. 

You smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Kim."

"Excellent. This way."

Mingyu was a very good dancer and an adequate conversationalist. He did offer you some textbook insincere compliments about your dancing skill and your dress, but since he was good friends with your brother, any lulls in the conversation were filled with stories from the time he and Wonwoo spent together at Oxford. There was something very lighthearted about his words and manner. It left you with the impression that Mr. Kim Mingyu did not take anything very seriously-including his own marriage prospects. 

"Thank you very much for the dance, Mr. Kim,” you bowed to him politely as the music came to an end. Mingyu smiled and offered you his arm to lead you away from the dance floor. 

“It was a pleasure, Miss Jeon. May I help you find your next partner?” he offered generously. "I know multiple young men who would be delighted to be introduced to you.” 

"I would be very grateful, Mr. Kim. But I have already promised Miss Ella Williams that she may be the one to find my next partner and I could not bear to  disappoint her."

Mingyu nodded. "Very well. Your brother is probably seeking a corner to hide himself in for the rest of the evening, so if you find yourself requiring a dance partner at any moment please do not hesitate to send for me."

You laughed. "Indeed. I shall summon you as soon as your services become necessary."

Mingyu left you just as Ella came over to join you on your bench.

"Well, well," your friend teased. "Mr. Kim is certainly very handsome. And he appears to be an excellent dancer."

"Will you tell me what you have written about him in your little book?" you asked. 

Ella withdrew the book from the folds of her skirts and took a moment to flip the pages. "Let us see here…. K for Kim… Mingyu…. ah! Here he is! 

"Goodness, the page is full!" you laughed as you saw the page crammed to the brim with notes. There was barely any space left. "Is that a list of women he is rumoured to  be courting? Heavens. You shall need to prepare a summary for this man."

"I have one," she replied, her fingers pointing to two underlined words on the top right corner. Notorious rake. 

You both exchanged looks and laughed. 

"That sounds about right," you giggled before taking her arm. "Now hurry! You promised to find me another dance partner! If we sit on the bench for too long then we might be approached by someone particularly odious."

"Of course!" 

Ella grabbed your arm and guided you across the room to a group of men who stood conversing near the balcony. One of them turned and smiled when he saw Ella. 

"Ella! I did not know you would be here tonight," he greeted her fondly. He had gentle eyes and a soft smile that put you instantly at ease. 

"How could I miss the first ball of the season?" Ella asked. "Joshua, you must allow me to introduce you to my dear friend Miss Jeon. I insist that you dance the next dance with her, for she is so much in demand that you may not have another chance all season! Miss Jeon, this is my cousin Viscount Joshua Hong."

Joshua greeted you warmly. Unlike Mingyu, he made no excessively charming moves to kiss your hand but his impeccable manners put you at ease. 

"Of course. It would be an honour to dance with Miss Jeon," he promised you. "But first allow me to make introductions of my own. I am accompanied by my dear friends Mr. Choi Seungcheol and Mr. Yoon Jeonghan."

You curtsied politely to the two men. Mr. Choi was handsome, certainly, but you were struck immediately by how unnaturally perfect Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was. His features were sharp, angular, and he looked like a marble statue sculpted by a skilled artist. Jeonghan had an almost ethereal beauty to him. 

And he turned immediately to your friend. 

"Miss Williams, may I request your hand for the next dance, if you have not already promised it to another?" Jeonghan asked, as he offered her his hand. 

Ella took it without hesitation. "Of course!"

It was no punishment to dance with Viscount Joshua Hong. The man was possibly the most eligible bachelor in the room considering his title, vast fortune and gentlemanly reputation so Ella had done you a great favour. Joshua made light and pleasant conversation as you danced. He was not entirely boring, but also failed to be particularly interesting. You found yourself casting glances across the room at Ella's dance partner. 

When your dance with Joshua came to an end, you approached Ella and Jeonghan with the faint hope that you might be chosen as Mr. Yoon Jeonghan's next partner- only to find that the man in question had already left the area. 

"What happened to Mr. Yoon?" you asked your friend casually. 

"He apologised and had to leave early. Something about his sister- perhaps you know her? Miss Yoon? Fairly pretty woman who is rather well-known for strangely not receiving any offers of marriage since the last many seasons?"

It sounded familiar. "Was he a good dancer?"

"Excellent- but I was terribly nervous throughout the dance, after all, you know what everyone says about him!" Ella said with a shaky laugh. 

You did not know. "What does everyone say about him-"

Your question was cut off by the appearance of your mother, who took your arm with a bright smile. “My dear! I can see that you have been quite successful with your dance partners tonight. Not only Mr Kim Mingyu but Viscount Hong as well! Everyone is quite taken with you.” 

You smiled at your mother. “Thank you, mother-” 

“Come along now. I have many others to introduce you to, we should take advantage of this momentum. You should come as well, Ella. A certain Mr. Lee has been asking about you and you will need someone to make the necessary introductions!” 

Ella smiled and took your hand as the two of you followed your mother.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

The Hessington’s ball was, in your mother’s expert opinion, a grand success. You had danced almost every dance with an eligible young man and the general consensus among the ton was that you were a delightful young woman who would likely receive her fair share of attention and gentleman callers. 

It was difficult to not want to bask in all the attention. 

“Mother! May I go to the assembly rooms with Ella and Mrs. Williams this evening? I believe we have no other engagements,” you reminded her eagerly as she attended to her knitting in the drawing room. Your mother looked up at you. 

“Will Mrs. Williams chaperone?” 

“Of course.” 

Upon receiving her permission you hurried upstairs to dress for an evening at the assembly rooms. You had heard from Ella that Viscount Hong would be in attendance. While you had no specific interest in Joshua  himself, you could not deny that the Viscount was well-connected and always ready and able to make introductions with other eligible young men. 

Daisy helped you into a pretty dress. Since an evening at the assembly rooms was not nearly as glamorous as a ball, you kept your attire simple but could not resist finishing off your look with a string of pearls around your neck. 

“You look lovely, miss,” Daisy complimented you kindly. “The pearls suit you very well.” 

You smiled. “Thank you, Daisy.” 

The Williams’ carriage arrived promptly to pick you up, and you travelled to the assembly rooms with Ella and her mother. You were delighted when Mrs. Williams promptly sat down at one of the many card tables and announced her intention to play whist all evening. The older woman appeared to have no plans of following you or Ella about the room, or being an overbearing chaperone. 

"I have decided to cast my net upon Mr. Xu Minghao tonight," Ella whispered to you, gesturing to a handsome young man in the corner of the room. "I shall ask Joshua to introduce me. Would you like to come?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "I might play some cards first. I have been looking forward to it for a while. Do you think it would be impolite for me to sit down at any of these tables?"

"I see Mrs. Patty there. She will surely welcome you at her card table; although I would be careful. I hear her gambling habit can be… excessive. And she gossips even more than she gambles."

You giggled. "I shall be fine with Mrs. Patty. She likes me. Go on and demonstrate your charms to Mr. Xu."

You were welcomed warmly at the card tables by Mrs. Patty and the other ladies, all of whom complimented your success at the Hessington's ball the previous evening while dealing you into their game. You were not a very experienced card player, but it did not signify. The bets were small at the ladies’ table. On the other hand, the table of gentlemen across from you were clearly playing for much higher stakes. 

You had a clear view of the men's card table. A few familiar faces were seated there- including Mr. Kim  Mingyu and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. The occupant that was of particular interest to you, however, was Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. Jeonghan had leaned back in his seat in a relaxed and careless manner, a handsome smirk on his face as he observed his cards. 

Really, he was unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to focus on your cards when a man as perfect as Yoon Jeonghan sat directly in your line of view? It was hardly surprising that you lost the first round of the game with the ladies. 

Jeonghan looked up suddenly and his intense gaze met yours. You were a little flustered at having been caught staring, but the corner of his lips curved up in a hint of a smile. Jeonghan acknowledged you with a simple tilt of his head. You forced a polite smile back and quickly turned away. 

When you dared to lift your eyes in his direction once more, he had already turned his attention away from you. 

“Really Mr. Yoon? Will you continue to win until you bleed us all dry?” you heard Mr. Kim Mingyu demand from the other table. The other men nodded in agreement; it appeared that Mr. Yoon had won almost every hand this evening. 

“You are bleeding yourself dry, Mr. Kim. Perhaps you may wish to study the rules of the game before you hand your money to me?” Jeonghan suggested lightly. 

“If I play another round with you I shall be in danger of losing my estate.” 

There appeared to be a general consensus among the men at table that they had lost enough money to Mr. Yoon for one evening. You watched with interest as they all left the table in search of refreshments and other entertainment. Mr. Yoon lingered at the table a few moments longer to collect his belongings.

It was a rare opening- you waited until your current round ended and took the chance to excuse yourself from the ladies table. 

“Pardon me, Mrs. Patty but I think I have had my fill of cards. I will take your leave now,” you said to the older woman who dismissed you easily. 

You took a deep breath. Perhaps it was an… audacious move (if not an entirely improper one) for you to approach Mr. Yoon while there was nobody else in your company. But you were quite determined to learn more about this man with the angelic features and confident gaze. You could not simply wait until Jeonghan decided to take note of you- you would bring the conversation to him. 

“Mr. Yoon,” you greeted him politely. 

Jeonghan turned to you with mild surprise. This was a crowded room, yes, but it was still bold of you to approach him without a female chaperone.  

Although to be fair, Yoon Jeonghan had never been one to put too fine a point on the rules of propriety.

“Miss Jeon, if I am not mistaken,” he greeted calmly. He gave no indication that he found you approaching him to be improper. “We were introduced at the Hessington’s ball last evening. I heard from my stepmother that you had excellent success and danced every single dance.” 

“I do not know if I was particularly successful at anything; to dance every dance at a ball is not unheard of. But to win almost every hand of cards while playing a game of chance… that is what I would consider success,” you teased him.

It was a bold attempt at flirtation- you could only wait and see what move Jeonghan would make. 

Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest. You could tell that he was biting back a smile. “Perhaps my opponents were simply too drunk to remember the rules of the game,” he suggested.  

“Or perhaps you have devised a way to eliminate the influence of chance on the game’s outcome entirely.” 

Jeonghan could not resist a chuckle. “Miss Jeon. I must protest this line of questioning. It seems to be in danger of impinging upon my honour as a gentleman. I hope you don’t mean to accuse me of cheating at cards?”

“Res ipsa loquitor, as they say in Latin, or- the thing speaks for itself,” you continued to tease him. “Do you deny it?” 

“I shall not deny it. Instead, I shall generously grant you the opportunity to withdraw this dangerous allegation you have chosen to make,” he continued, “for I am confident that you possess no evidence to support your claim. Please- have a seat. It would not do for you to remain standing while we debate my alleged crimes.” 

You allowed Jeonghan to pull out a chair for you and he expertly moved behind you to push it back in before taking his own seat. You folded your hands in your lap and smiled at him. You were enjoying this conversation. 

“Your words are clever Mr. Yoon, but they do not cry innocence,” you insisted. 

“I am not claiming to be innocent.” 

“Then you admit you are guilty?” 

“I shall not answer your allegation either way,” Jeonghan replied with a chuckle. “But I am concerned for the impact your allegations shall have on your honour when you find yourself unable to justify them with sufficient evidence.” 

You laughed. “So you are greatly concerned for my honour, are you, Mr. Yoon?” 

“I would be concerned for the honour of any young lady in your position.” 

“Then how do you suggest we resolve this? For I find it impossible to believe that you should have been able to win so many rounds of a game of chance without having found some manner of tilting the scales of luck in your favour,” you insisted. 

Jeonghan leaned closer to you suddenly. His dark eyes boldly met yours and your senses were instantly overwhelmed by him. His clean scent, the sound of his soft breathing and his handsome face hovering a few inches from your own. Jeonghan’s voice (suddenly low) sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. 

“If you do not withdraw your allegation,” he whispered. “I shall have no choice but to demand satisfaction.” 

Oh. This man was dangerous. 

He pulled back and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Noone had ever flirted with you quite like this before- and it was, clearly and undoubtedly a delightfully dangerous flirtation, for what man would innocently lean so close and whisper such words in the presence of a lady unless he meant to be unequivocal about his nefarious intention? 

It appeared you had walked into the lion’s den of your own free will. 

“Satisfaction?” you asked him, trying not to reveal how flustered you were.  “I hope you do not intend to challenge a lady to a duel, Mr. Yoon.” 

“A duel? No, not at all. I can think of better ways for you to restore my honour.” 

“I have no intention of restoring your honour,” you replied boldly. 

“Perhaps I shall be able to persuade you otherwise. Tell me Miss Yoon- have you recently lost anything? Perhaps a valuable item that you carry upon your person?” Jeonghan asked in a knowing tone. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You had not carried much with you and you quickly checked that you still possessed your handkerchief and reticule. As you turned your head, however, you realised that there was a strange lightness around your neck. 

Your hand flew up to your bare neck. 

“My pearls!” 

Jeonghan smirked. His arm moved subtly across the table and you caught a glimpse of something white and shiny clasped in his hand just before he tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. You stared at him in shock and disbelief. 

“Mr. Yoon- have you just stolen my pearls?” you demanded in a hushed tone. 

Jeonghan looked pleased with himself. 

“Not to worry, my lady. I have every intention of returning them to you tomorrow, at the Hongs’ ball- where you shall do me the honour of dancing the final dance of the evening with me. An act which will, I believe, be adequate recompense for the baseless accusations you have brought upon my honour.” 

You looked up at him with a smile.

So it was to be a game.  

“You don’t play fair, Mr. Yoon,” you remarked. 

“Remind me to further discuss the merits of fairness during our dance at tomorrow’s ball,” Jeonghan suggested as he stood from his seat and reached for your hand. He pressed his lips against your knuckles- softly, tantalisingly, and perhaps lingering for half a second longer than appropriate before giving you a roguish smile. “Have a pleasant evening, Miss Jeon.” 

You watched as he walked away to join his companions at the refreshment tables. Your heartbeat thumped with excitement while the adrenaline from your unbelievably shocking encounter with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan slowly ebbed. 

Well, you thought to yourself. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had certainly lit your heart’s candle. 

Indeed, he seemed quite in danger of tipping it over and setting the entire bloody place on fire.

-----------------------------------------

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed so much love for my first fic Patience, and also thank you for reading Candle! Jeonghan was such a crucial character in Patience that it was always my intention to write a companion fic for him.

I should be able to upload the next part of Candle in a few days, if all goes well. I'm also in the process of plotting for Wonwoo, Mingyu and Hoshi, in no particular order.

Any feedback is welcome! I'm not sensitive lol.