#also also next week my brother and sister in law are coming over for tea (i need him to put up my curtains im too 160cm for that ��) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wishfulwithwine · 2 years

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Twin Flames : Chapter Six

Eris Vanserra x Archeron Sister Reader

“You are a peace and a flame, you steady me and stir me all at once” - butterflies rising

“I don’t want to just love you. I want our souls to merge and burn brighter than any star found in this universe” - Lola Lawrence

The youngest Archeron sister, loved and protected by all her sisters and the Inner Circle, is mated to the hated heir of the Autumn Court. Will they find peace, or burn in the flames?

Warnings: series will have cursing, smut, violence, ptsd, alcohol, and other possible triggers. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR. 18+ ONLY

Series Masterlist

(photo from @octobers-veryown )

All you could do was wait and pace. Wait and sit. Wait and read. Wait and cook. Wait and read.

It felt like time was on a never ending loop of waiting.

As soon as your “mating week” with Eris ended - a passionate, exhausting, love-filled week - Eris was pulled immediately with his father and brothers for the war with Hybern. The immediate aloneness after such an affectionate week was harsh on your emotions. A complete whiplash of feelings, and still new to Autumn Court, you were grateful that at least the Lady of Autumn, Serah, was a comforting presence and wished to know as much as she could about the woman who married her son.

Everyday since Eris left for the war, he’d pull on your bond as many times as he could to make sure you were ok. Temporarily, you moved into the castle with her, to keep her company as well as it was the safest for both of you.

It also helped ease your fears, when he pulled on the bond, so you know he was alive. You’d tell him you loved him, and send your warmth and love through the bond. The heightened emotions of the mating week to not seeing your husband at all had your heart anxiously awaiting his return. Your feelings sometimes felt like they were in a blender, attempting to be patient.

He could feel your worry sometimes, a slight twinge on the outer edges of your feelings. He was ready to go home, but Eris couldn’t… until it was over.

“How are you feeling today?” Serah, the Lady of Autumn asked, coming into the library where you sat on one of the chairs, snuggled under a thick blanket and a book. You smiled at her, as she sat down on the couch next to you. A servant followed her, carrying a tray of tea and some cinnamon treats.

“Better. Can’t wait till Eris gets back though. How are you?” You replied, as the servant poured each of you a cup of tea. You eagerly accepted the warm drink, accepting the comfort of the little things.

“Good, although I can only imagine your feelings. Separated just after mating week with your mate? How many times has my son pulled on your bond?” She joked, and you giggled.

“I lose track, but it’s comforting knowing he’s still alive, especially since I can’t be there with him” You said, and she nodded.

“Yes, but from what some of the letters I’ve received, they all should be home shortly. You must be excited to tell him, or have you already?” Serah said, with a twinkle in her eye, shifting her eyes to your belly.

“Y/N! Are you alright in there?” Serah asked, after you had sprinted to the bathroom in the middle of eating.

“I’m - * barf * I’ll be fine” You said, clutching the bowl as you prayed the nausea to go away. Your side of the bond was closed off, making sure Eris wouldn’t feel your sickness.

“This is the third day of this. I’m getting our healer” Serah said concerned, bringing you to a couch when you were able to leave the restroom. You nodded, in no shape to argue with your mother-in-law.

“Hello, Mrs. Vanserra. I hear you’re feeling nauseous for a few days now?” The healer, Ygritte, said, as she came and analyzed your body with her magic.

“Please, call me Y/N. Yes, dizzy and light headed too, but I just figured that was because of the stress with Eris being away so quickly after mating” You said, as Serah stood close by, watching Ygritte.There wasn’t anyone else in the room, but there were guards outside the door.

“Well, it’s not a stomach bug or bad food, it seems like. You seem very healthy… oh. Oh! Congratulations, Y/N. You’re pregnant” Ygritte said with a smile.

“No, I want to tell him in person. I just wish I knew when he was coming so I could make something to announce to him with, like the Autumn Court pie. Or buy some little baby clothes to tell him” You said, rubbing your belly.

“Oh that would be precious! We can definitely make the pie for him when we get home, but the shopping will have to wait. When I was pregnant with Eris, Beron and I found out together. We were trying and I was visiting Ygritte everyday to see. Beron was very excited to start having a family” Serah said, and you could tell with the way parts of her face pinched, that she was trying to tell the happy version of the story. Without Beron here, Serah expressed herself more. You could feel her be more comfortable in the surroundings, despite living here for hundreds of years.

“I always pictured being pregnant and how I would find out, and to be honest, I never pictured this” You chuckled, with a smile.

“I forget that you are not originally fae. I understand the… process… was terrible, do you miss being a human?” Serah asked, and you shook your head.

“I don’t, honestly. I… I get nightmares often about what Hybern did to me, did to my sisters and I, but with Eris, all I’ve found is joy and happiness. I miss my sisters, but when we were human, we were so poor, I had two jobs, with less than hour or two between them to make some money so we could eat. It was… awful” You said, and Serah smiled.

“I had two sisters as well. I can only imagine how you feel being separated from them” Serah said, comfortingly, bringing her hand to cover yours.

“I love them, but this is my family now” You replied, and Serah squeezed your hand with a smile.

“Of course we are. I can’t believe I’ll be a grandmother” She said, smiling widely as she gazed at where your hands were placed on your stomach.

The news of your pregnancy had brought her immense joy, and although you were waiting to tell more people until Eris came home, she whispered to you plans for them. Excited was an understatement - especially when she would talk about her plans for the parties and reconstruction of the castle.

“Lady of Autumn, Lady Y/N Vanserra, High Lord Beron and sons are on their way home” the guard announced, and your smile brightened. Serah’s flickered with a small bit of happiness - although she wasn’t thrilled her husband was coming back, she was happy her son would be able to hear the news.

“Well it seems that there is no time to prepare” You giggled, squeezing her hand softly as she chuckled.

“No, but Eris will be happy nonetheless” Serah said, smiling.

“Y/N, my wife” Beron said, greeting both of you as the Vanserra boys winnowed into the library.

You smiled graciously, curtsying properly to the High Lord.

“I will see you all for dinner in a few hours” Beron stated, looking at the boys who all looked like they needed a shower quickly. You could feel the growing frustration to be close to you down the bond from Eris, itching to hold you in his arms, and as soon as Beron walked out of the room with Serah, he winnowed the two of you to your home.

“My love, I’ve missed you” Eris groaned, slotting his lips against yours as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“I’ve missed you too” You whimpered out, as his hips ground against yours. His hands were warm, as they held out tight, feeling your silhouette. He gripped your hips, anchoring himself to you desperately.

He burned your dress, not in flames but burned it just so that it became ashes and fell of your skin. His clothes fell off in ashes as well, and without even looking at your body,Eris quickly maneuvered the two of you to the bed, his lips attached to yours. The smell of both of your arousal permeated thickly through the air, and your body fell drunk off the lust.

“Eris, Eris, wait my love” You said, pushing him slightly away from you. Confused, but respectful, he pulled away, looking into your eyes, concern written across his face.

“Is everything ok? Too much?” He asked, looking at your body if he had harmed you in some way while moving the pair of you to the bed.

“No, my love. Just - I love you, Eris Vanserra. And you might have to be a bit gentler, now that our love has created something” You said, trying to say it without giving it away immediately. You knew how smart Eris was, but right now, he was confused, cocking his head with an eyebrow raise.

“What? We created something?” Eris asked, and although you tried not to, your mouth let out a giggle. You put your hand over his hand, before moving his hand to your slightly swollen belly. He looked down, seeing the littlest of bumps, and then looked at you shocked.

“We’re - we’re - baby?” He said, stuttering in disbelief.

Eris couldn’t believe he didn’t notice it before, with the belly being swollen underneath his hands and you - you were glowing. Your breasts are a bit larger, and your smell - the smell of your was different, spicier just like his own.

He sank to his knees, placing both hands on your belly, and kissed it, before staring at it blatantly. You could only smile widely, as he kept kissing it. You could feel the indescribable amount of joy and love through your bond, as it all but radiated Eris’ amazement.

“You, my little flame, love of my life, my mate - I thought I was the happiest man alive before but this - this, I - I love you. You are the most incredible person in my life” Eris asked, looking up at you, his eyes filling with tears. You reached down, wiping away his tears although your eyes were watering heavily as well.

“I love you, husband” You said, when he stood and kissed him passionately.

“Are you okay to do this?” He asked, concerned now. You chuckled, nodding your head.

“Please, husband, I’ve been waiting for you for so long” You said, and Eris smirked.

“Well, I’d be a terrible husband if I’ve kept my perfect wife waiting any longer” He said, before devouring your lips. His large hands held on to your hips as he brought you flush against his body, allowing you to feel every muscle of his body as his clothes finally came off. His thick cock pressed into your belly, and your hips moved into his to alleviate the ache you were beginning to feel, aching for more of Eris’ touch.

“My good girl, I feel how eager you are. My sweet good girl” Eris whispered, as his lips travelled down your jaw to sucking on your neck, leaving a bruise on your soft skin. He leaned you back against the bed, moving his body between your legs, as he massaged your breast and inner thighs.

“Eris,” You moaned, pulling gently on his hair.

“Alright, my love. I’m impatient too. I’ve thought about this all the time, trying to get back to you sooner” He said, as he lifted your leg onto his hip as his fingers slid through your folds, already wet from anticipation.

“You’re already wet for me, my love? I bet you taste even sweeter. Next time, I promise, but I just need to be inside of you” He said, trying to loosen you up with his fingers before the tip of his cock began pushing inside of you, much gentler than he usually did.

You let out a moan, whimpering as your legs wrapped around his waist.

He smirked, looking at where the two of you connected, and thrust inside of you.

“Baby, you’re even tighter. I - you look even better, my flame. Mine. I’m going to keep you knocked up - you like that don’t you?” He asked, teasingly as he felt you squeeze him. “Yea, pump you full of my babies? Gods, thank you for gifting me you for the mother of my kids” He groaned, as you squeezed him, trying to milk his cock.

Your hips tried to meet his, to urge him to go faster, but it seemed Eris got the message, speeding up the pace as he leaned forward, his breath caressing your neck.

“I’m- I’m” You started to say, as you moaned.

“I got you, my little flame. I’m right behind you” He said, breathless, as you shattered underneath him. Your orgasm triggered his, and soon, you were both breathless, laying next to each other on the bed, your limbs entangled with one another.

Eris turned on his side, looking at you, as he tried to memorize his view: you, glowing with pregnancy and post-orgasmic haze, your hair thrown about in a crown around you, cheeks flushed and lips parted.

You felt his stare and turned to face him, as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Let’s go take a bath, my love” You said, before he kissed your lips and helped you out of the bed and towards the bathroom.

Your poured your usual oils, and waited for the bath to fill with hot water, as your husband attached himself to your back, resting his hands on your belly.

You had gotten better at the bath tub - although while Eris was away, you took colder ones to avoid any memory of the incident.

When it was ready, Eris got in first - as was routine with you two now, and reached for your hand to help you sit in front of him, your back to his chest. He gathered the water in his hands, and helped wash you before you turned around, ready to do the same to him.

“Eris” You sighed, looking at the bruises scattered across his body. Without even thinking, your hand began to glow as you tried to help.

“Y/N, stop. I don’t want it to hurt the baby. This is nothing serious” Eris said, holding your wrists as he forced his hands away from his body. You nodded, reluctantly, and then washed him.

taglist:

@historygeekqueen

#Eris #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra smut #eris acotar #acotar #acotar fic #acotar x reader #archeron sisters #baby

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topguncortez · 2 years

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Bad Medicine | Chapter 2

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

word count: 5.4k

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

WARNINGS: death/murder, guns, violence, physical abuse, cursing, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, grief, blood, nudity, mentions of drugs, mentions of a brothel

Y/N’s apartment looked over the upper East Side of New York. It was a cute little place that was within walking distance to the club. It gave her both things that she loved, the chaotic life that came with living in New York, and privacy to where she felt safe coming home at night. And that was partially because of Rueben, aka Payback, her bodyguard that Rafael had hired when she moved back to New York. That was part of Rafael’s deal in sending Y/N back to New York, she had to have a bodyguard. Y/N was smart though, and could figure out how to leave her bodyguards in the dust and jet off around the world, except Rueben could see right through that all.

Y/N stood on the balcony, taking in her surroundings for the last time. She hadn’t stood out on the balcony in a long time. Good and bad memories filled her mind as she held her cup of tea close to her body for some warmth. Images of her relationship with Francisco filled her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She also thought about all the good times she had while working at the club. Sure it wasn’t the best job she could ever have, but she loved the girls she worked with. She was probably going to miss them more than anything.

“Y/N?” Gianni asked softly, “You ready?”

Y/N and Rueben had spent the whole night packing. She looked over at the small carryon and purse sitting on her bed. She packed the essentials to make the trip over. Her brothers would be sending the rest of her clothing in the coming weeks.

Y/N took a deep breath, she wanted to tell him no. She didn’t know a thing about Jake Seresin, to the internet it was like the man didn’t exist. She knew that he supposedly studied law at University of Texas, but never went past that. He took over for his father when he had a heart attack nearly two years ago. It was all fabricated bullshit about “Seresin Enterprises” and how they bought several blocks of casinos and clubs in both Vegas and San Diego. Apparently they had been on the FBI’s radar for sometime due to an underground boxing and prostitution ring. However, they claim no such truth about it. Which was something all mobsters said.

“Y/N, we gotta get headed to the airport. The Don is mad we held it off this long,” Paulo said walking into her room. Y/N sighed and walked into the room, leaving the warmth of the morning sun, “You got what you need?”

“Yeah, Payback took my bags to the car,” She answered and fixed herself in the mirror. She wore a simple skin tight black dress and paired it with matching black heels. Her tan skin looked sunkissed compared to the dark colors. She looked around at her barren apartment and frowned. She didn’t have a lot of stuff to begin with, but seeing it all boxed up made her feel kind of sad. Y/N nodded, and Gianni gently led her through the house and towards the waiting car.

“Wait,” Y/N said, and turned to face her brother, “Have you heard from Sophie? I haven’t heard from her since she left for Greece and I know she’d want to be a part of this wedding bullshit.”

Paulo looked at his two brothers, as if to tell them to keep their mouths shut. Narciso clenched his jaw and Gianni whistled, looking away from his little sister.

“I have not heard from Sophie,” Paulo answered, “But I’ll make sure someone reaches out to her.”

“She’d kill me if I got married and she wasn’t there for it,” Y/N smiled sadly and pulled her phone out, dialing the number again. Paulo ushered her into the car as Sophie’s phone went to voicemail again. Y/N sighed and left her yet another voicemail.

When Y/N arrived at the small private airport she noticed the black SUVs and armed men that were standing around. She would try and make a break for it if it weren’t for the military style weapons ready to fire at any moment. One would think that the president or some diplomat was about to land, but in reality, it was just some man from Italy. Although the Santiagos had slowly defeated their enemies over the years, some still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Don stepped out of his own vehicle when the Santiago siblings arrived. He looked pissed and Paulo fixed his suit as he walked over to talk to him. The patriarch stared his daughter down through the dark tinted glass of the SUV. She gulped and looked over at Payback who simply shrugged. He didn’t want to do this anymore than she wanted.

“Do you want to make things easy?” Payback asked and Y/N nodded, “Don’t try and fight every little thing he says.”

“You know me better than that Rueben,” Y/N smirked, and opened her car door. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked up to her father. His stare sent a shiver down her spine, and it made her hold her head up higher, trying to show him that she was not afraid.

“No funny business, Y/N. You get on the plane here and off in San Diego. I hear you made the pilot take you to England or Paris, I will cut off the expenses for the wedding,” Rafael threatened Y/N. The girl rolled her eyes, “We’ve set up for you to be married to Jacob in four weeks.”

“Four fucking weeks?!” Y/N cursed and was met with another backhand across her face.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” The Don yelled, “This is why you couldn’t find a husband on your own.”

“Maybe if you would give me a damn chance!” Y/N yelled.

“Why? So you could find someone else to murder someone in our family?!”

Y/N clenched her jaw and looked away from him. She had heard it almost every year since her mother’s death, Rafael never let her live it down. What happened to her mother was one of the worst things that Y/N and her family could’ve gone through, but no one knew that Francisco would turn his anger towards Marie. Her brothers forgave her for what happened, but Rafael still held it over her head.

“Are none of you going to say anything!?” Y/N yelled at her brothers. They were all looking down at the ground, not bothering to jump in and say anything, “Spineless fucking idiots,” Y/N cursed and licked her lips, “I’ll see you in hell, Rafael.”

Rafael stood with his head up, his jaw clenched as he watched Y/N and Rueben walk up the plane steps. She sat down in a chair that was by the window. She watched as her brothers wouldn’t look at the plane, but the Don looked like he was ready to give an order to shoot it down. Y/N knew once the plane took off he would scold her brothers for telling her about Francisco, but the Don didn’t dare punish the boys in front of her or anyone else. People needed to know the boys were untouchable, but Y/N’s life was useless.

“Miss Santiago, can I get you anything to drink?” The flight attendant asked.

Y/N looked around the small jet and noted who the security was. There was, of course, Reuben and what looked to be like his new partner. Rafael hardly let Y/N go without two guards. The last one had been killed because the Don caught Y/N and him together. The new guy was all of 6 foot tall, with tan skin and a scar running down his face. His dark hair was gelled back and it looked like he had just bought a new black suit and dress shoes. Payback could see the glint in her eye and knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“Well, Rueben will have a Hangman IPA, I’ll take whatever red wine you have open, and a glass of whiskey for the Rookie,” Y/N smirked. Payback rolled his eyes, knowing Y/N’s plan like the back of his hand. This wasn’t the first flight he had taken with her and some new rookie, he had seen this episode before.

“We can’t just have one plane ride where you leave the Rookies be?” Reuben asked, and Y/N just smiled, “You know what’ll happen.”

“Then why not enjoy the fun while it lasts,” Y/N said as the flight attendant handed her the glass of wine, “Leave the bottle please, dear.”

“Laying it on thick,” Payback said, taking out his headphones.

“My life has been signed away, Reuben. These are my last moments of freedom until I have to go wait on some mobster hand and foot,” Y/N said and Rueben frowned. He glanced outside the window to see that the black SUVs that carried her family were gone.

“Fine,” He muttered, “Just know this one is on you.”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded, her eyes going over to the Rookie who was seemingly confused. She just gave him a wink, and settled back in her chair as the pilot told them to prepare for take off. Y/N closed her eyes, she wasn’t ever a fan of planes taking off, she always felt like she was going to fall right out of the sky.

Once the plane got up to cruising altitude, Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the Rookie, “Have you ever joined the Mile High club?”

“N-no, ma’am,” He said. He had a thick country accent, making him out to probably be from the South.

“Perfect,” Y/N smiled and stood up, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the private bedroom in the back of the plane. Payback groaned in annoyance, and pulled his earbuds out of his pocket. He settled them in his ears before going back to look through his magazine.

“They never learn.”

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

When the plane finally touched down in San Diego, California, the skyline was already starting to light up. Y/N smiled, noticing the familiar sight of the skyscrapers in the distance. Rueben followed behind her, straightening out his suit, and looking at The Rookie behind him who had a smirk plastered on his face. He felt like the king of the world having bodied the princess of the Italian Mob. The Rookie fixed his suit jacket and ran a hand over his gelled back hair.

“Good evening Miss Santiago, my name is Martin, and I’ll be handling your movement from the airport to the Seresin compound,” Martin was a middle aged man who had salt and pepper hair. Y/N held her hand out and Martin kissed the back of it. Y/N’s favorite pastime was making men bow to her like she was the Queen of England. In a way, Y/N was a queen, the mafia queen. If Y/N was into old men, Martin would be added as another name on her list.

“How was your flight? Everything went smoothly, I assume?” Martin asked, as he ushered Y/N towards the awaiting white Range Rover. Her father hated white cars. He said it made them stand out too much and put a bigger target on their backs.

“Yes the flight went very well,” Y/N said, and glanced over her shoulder at the Rookie. He smirked to himself, and fixed his suit jacket. He felt like he was the king of the word having bagged the Italian Mob king’s daughter. But that feeling was short lived as Rueben tightened the silencer on his gun, and then fired a shot into the Rookie’s skull.

“Clean this mess up,” Reuben said to the men standing by. Martin opened the door for Y/N, and she noticed a group of men picking up The Rookie’s body. She looked at Rueben who was tucking his gun back into the holster of his jacket.

“What?” Reuben asked, and Y/N nodded her head towards the body, “I told you not to.”

“Mood killer,” Y/N said and Rueben shook his head, shutting her door before getting into the front passenger seat.

The Seresin mansion sat in the neighborhood of Mission Hills, which was about ten minutes outside of San Diego. Y/N had only visited a handful of cities in the US, and had only been to California once. She understood why mobsters picked quite poor towns to set up shop. The busy hustle and bustle of the nearby ports could mask the terrors that the mobs did. Y/N eyed the prostitutes as they hung around the street corners in downtown San Diego.

“Those are someone's daughters,” Her mother used to say when they would pass a young female on the street in barely there clothing. Her mother would take them in, like stray cats, give them food and a place to bathe, before they would run off back to the streets they know.

“Everything is pretty close,” Martin explained as they drove through the busy streets, “It’s no European country side, but it suffices. Los Angeles is about two hours by car. San Fran is two hours by jet. Mr. Seresin has his own private jet. It’s one of the best ways to travel around. Sometimes, they’ll take a private train. Although, most of his work is done in Miramar or North Island.”

She knew that from the google search that she did. Jake owned a flight club and a bar in North Island called the Hard Deck. It was a quaint little place that attracted a lot of sailors to the area. It also just so happened to be where his brothel was set up. If there was anything Navy men loved more than causing a fight, it was getting pussy after a long trip out to sea.

“What is the legality of their business?” Y/N asked.

Payback looked at her in the rearview mirror, “You know what they do.”

“I can’t ask questions to get to know my future husband? I am going to be investing in this, so it is only fair that I know what he is doing.” She had a point and both Payback and Martin knew it. Y/N was smart and knew how to play her cards correctly, “Tell me what they do.”

“Mr. Seresin’s grandfather set up a very vast trading company back in New York during the twenties. The Seresins own and control almost 50% of the US trading ports. Seresin Trades is working on going global with the help of Mr. Santiago. Mr. Bob Floyd has been fast at work creating Seresin Industries, one of the fastest startup technology companies,” Martin said.

“A trading company,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, “How unique. And the brothels, fight rings, clubs, and casinos, those are just. . . extra amenities?”

“Athena,” Reuben warned.

Y/N held her hand up stopping Rueben, “Martin?”

Martin scoffed, “You act like your family is the greatest gift to God’s green earth.” As soon as the words left his lips, Martin regretted it.. Y/N glared at him through the rearview mirror and a cold sweat broke out down his back, “I apologize.”

“A little too late,” Reuben said and Y/N smirked.

If there was anyone who knew Y/N better than her own brothers, it was Rueben . He had become her personal bodyguard after Francisco attacked her and her mother’s death. Y/N had gotten too smart, she figured out how to run away from her guards. So Rafael hired Rueben , and the man watched her like a hawk. Y/N was never out of his sight. He had not only become her bodyguard, but also her closest confidant. She could tell him anything and everything.

Martin’s knuckles turned white with his grip on the steering wheel, as he turned on to a magnificent compound. The black gates rolled back as the SUV drove onto the marble driveway that was lined with black lamp posts. Buried behind the trees was almost like a castle. The Kiszka house stood tall, at least 3 stories, and had a complete wall of windows.

“Mr. Seresin likes windows. Makes him feel less caged in.” Martin said as he pulled up in front of the house. There was a large water fountain in the middle of the circle drive and Y/N could see water lilies floating around in the water.

“Lovely,” Y/N said. When the car came to a stop, her door was opened. She reached her hand out and a guard gently grabbed her hand, helping her out of the car. She smoothed down her dress as Rueben quickly rounded the car to her side, “Where is he?”

“I believe they are at the club, or getting ready to go,” Martin responded. The glass front door opened and an older woman stepped out of the house.

“Welcome Miss Santiago,” She introduced herself, and bowed her head softly,“I am Emile, I will be your personal attendant. Do you care for a glass of champagne, maybe even wine?”

Y/N took a step into the house, and looked around the foyer. It had high ceilings that opened into a glass grand staircase. Everything was red and white, giving the entrance a cold yet warm feeling. The living room was open, and had white leather couches and a fluffy black rug on the floor. Hanging above a roaring fireplace was a picture of a young man in a black suit. She stood in front of the picture, the man’s green eyes were enticing and almost as if they were locking her in a trance. She looked away at the sound of the front door opening and Rueben walking in.

“I’ll take a bottle of white,” Y/N said to Emile, “And please take the bottle to my room. Oh! And if you would, can you draw me a bath? I don’t like the feeling of blood on my hands.”

Rueben scoffed, “You’re one to talk.” She could see a smudge of blood on his collar, more than likely from killing Martin before he walked into the house.

“Yes, Miss,” Emile nodded and scurried off towards the kitchen. Y/N stepped farther into the house surveying everything. She walked over to a set of windows and glass sliding doors. She looked over the backyard, an infinity pool and giant garden that looked daunting at night, caught her eye. Y/N made a note of wanting to test the water in the pool at some point tonight.

“He would like you to come to the office,” A guard said, standing in the doorway of the living room.

Y/N turned around to see about ten or so men standing in the living room, all of them wearing black suits and ties.

“No,” Y/N responded, a smirk on her lips. Her eyes not leaving the reflecting water of the pool, and kicked off her heels. She reached for the zipper of her dress and undid it. Payback also knew this tactic, and rolled his eyes. Y/N let the sleeves of her dress fall down her shoulders, and shrugged the dress off, wearing absolutely nothing underneath. All the men standing around her tried to avert their eyes the best they could, but failed miserably.

“I want a bath first,” She said.

“I can’t let you do that,” The guard responded.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him, “Do I turn you on?”

“I-I. . . Mr. Seresin had strict instructions-”

“I bet these pants are feeling pretty strict,” She let her hand shamelessly trail up and down his body, before landing over the clothed hard-on

“Please,” The guard practically begged. Y/N smirked as she gently palmed him, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Y/N challenged. Before the guard could respond another gunshot rang through the house. Y/N shrieked as the guard’s body buckled and she moved out of the way to let him fall. She looked over at a tall man with curly hair, holding a gun out.

“That’s what I’m gonna do about it,” The gun wielding man said. He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his black dress pants. He was tall with beautiful brown eyes with scars on his face and neck. Y/N smirked and walked over to him, but he held his hand out, “Don’t think about it. Let’s fucking go.”

Y/N opened her mouth but squealed as he threw her naked body over his shoulder, “Hey! Put me down!” She yelled, hitting his back. The man tightened his grip on her body so he wouldn’t drop her as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, “Payback!”

Reuben took a step forward to try and intervene but was cut off by guards standing in front of him, “Just keep your mouth shut!”

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body, “I’ll fucking kill you,” She threatened the man.

“I’d like to see you try,” The man said and tossed her down onto a cold leather chair, “Wait here, don’t fucking move.”

Y/N looked around the office, seeing more pictures of the man from the living room. There was a bookshelf with tons of old leather books with gold writing. Y/N narrowed her eyes, reading the titles on the side, most of them were in Latin, but she could understand that they were law books. There was a large dark oak desk in front of her, which must belong to her future husband. On the wall behind the desk were various diplomas from colleges that he must’ve gone to.

He’s distinguished, Y/N thought to herself, and smart.

Y/N almost got out of her chair to go explore more things around his desk, when she heard the clicking of fancy dress shoes coming down the hall. She sucked in a breath as the door opened, and a beautiful blonde man with green eyes stood in the doorway. He was wearing all black, with his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He forewent the tie, and Y/N could see he was wearing a thin gold chain around his neck.

“You couldn’t give her the dignity to walk in here by herself? With her clothes on?” The blonde man asked.

“She didn’t want to,” The man with the gun shrugged and looked over at a man who was wearing a big pair of glasses, with a smirk, “We lost Martin and Dominick.”

“Fucking idiots,” The blonde cursed, “Welcome Y/N, I’m Jake, your new husband.” He held his arms out as if he were presenting some great prize. Y/N looked him up and down, he looked like the human version of Adonis, “My beauty stunned you into silence. It happens, sweetheart. But thank you for finally joining us.”

Y/N scoffed, “You basically bought me from my father to help your little group here get up and running.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. You weren’t the pick of the crop I wanted,” Jake said, but then shrugged, “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” Y/N said, “What? I’m not good enough for you? You prefer underaged prostitute pussy instead? I bet, he-” She said pointing at the man with large glasses, “Would you like a taste?”

“Not my type either,” He said, “I like my pussy tight and silent.”

Jake chuckled and Y/N clenched her jaw. He walked towards her, his green eyes looking her up and down as if he were examining her. She felt like she was under a microscope and wanted to hide away. She was suddenly very aware that she was sitting naked in front of three guys who could easily kill her, and had no idea where Rueben was.

“Where are your clothes?” Jake asked.

“I like being naked,” Y/N smirked, sitting back in the chair, exposing more of her body. Jake looked like he was about to murder everyone in the room. He looked from her face to her chest, his eyes seemingly assessing every millimeter of skin, down her stomach and to her legs, which were crossed hiding her modesty. Y/N caught the wandering eyes of the men behind Jake, and slowly uncrossed her legs, opening them slightly. That was the final straw for Jake, as he moved quickly, snatching her up by her chin.

“I was told I was getting a mafia queen,” Jake spat, holding her throat tightly, “We got rules, sweetheart, and you’re going to listen to them, got it? Or I swear to god, I’ll fucking sell you for whatever your worth to the highest bidder. I’m sure these-” He said, tracing his fingers between her breasts, his knuckles brushing against the soft mound of skin, “could get me a pretty penny. Of course, the face is a little fucked up.”

Y/N clenched her jaw at the mention of the scar that ran down her face. Her eye socket had to be repaired and left a permanent scar, a constant reminder of what Francisco had done to her. It was easy for her to hide the other scars on her body, that one, was out in the open for everyone to see. Her mother told her to not hide what he did, to embrace it.

“Understand me?” Jake asked and Y/N nodded. He released her chin.

“Asshole,” Y/N said, before spitting in his face. Jake clenched his jaw, and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to look up at him.

“Don’t fucking test me, sweetheart,” Jake seethed, “I won’t hesitate to throw you down on the pew, I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is. Don’t fuck with me, doll.” Y/N trembled and nodded. Jake picked up her body and put her down on the wooden chair, harshly. Her ass still stung a bit from where the curly haired man had thrown her down earlier.

“If you’re done being a brat, I’d like to introduce you to my right hand men. The one that brought you in here was Rooster, he’s in charge of security. You need to go somewhere, you take it up with him. If he tells you ‘no’ you don’t fucking argue. This is Bob,” Jake said, pointing to the man with the glasses, “He’s intelligence. Don’t try to fucking go somewhere or call someone or do something fucking stupid cause he’ll find out about it and I’ll kill you.”

“And what do you do?” Y/N asked.

Jake smiled, “I’m the Hangman. I am the reason this whole place ruins and operates. The face of the family and the company.”

“Bob would’ve made a cuter face,” Y/N said and looked at the man. Bob couldn’t help but chuckle, but Jake quickly shot him a glare. Y/N sent him a wink though, which made his ears turn red.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve got a couple rules. One, don’t be in my way or anyone else's way. Two, don’t fucking speak to me unless you are spoken too. And three, don’t piss me off. If you follow those three rules. . . I don’t see why this relationship won’t work out great.”

“Because you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”

“Says the one who’s gotten three men killed in your first two hours of being here,” Jake said.

Y/N smiled, “You say that?”

Jake leaned his hands on either side of the chair she was sitting on. She could smell is cologne and see a thin scar by his eyebrow, “I see everything,” He spoke softly, “Go fucking clean yourself off. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow.” Jake said and turned to walk out of the office, “Actually, I don’t want to see your face at all, unless I fucking ask to see you, which I probably won’t. I don’t want you here any less than you actually want to be here. If I knew you were a part of the expansion gun deal we made, I would’ve never fucking made it.”

Y/N tried to not let his words sting. She had heard worse from her father, but there was something about hearing it from someone else. Y/N turned her head to the side as Jake and the boys left the office with a slam of the door. As soon as the door shut, she let the tears roll down her face. She waited a minute before she got up from the wooden chair and walked out of the office. She was suddenly very aware that she was stark naked in a mobster’s house.

She moved softly as she walked down the hallway, trying to avoid the eyes of the workers in the house. Y/N looked up and noticed Emile walking towards her with a robe. The older woman smiled softly at her and handed her the robe. Y/N nodded and wrapped it tightly around her body. Emile gently wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, guiding her over to the grand staircase and up to the second floor.

“Mr. Jacob and the boys went out for the night,” Emile said. She had a heavy french accent that reminded Y/N of some of the older maids back home at her father’s mansion, “I ran a bath and had some of the other guards bring your belongings into your room. Any specific way to put your clothing away?”

Y/N shook her head, “I can get that tomorrow when the rest of my things arrive. Thank you, Emile.”

“You are very welcome, Miss,” Emile said, nodding her head as they stood outside one of the bedrooms, “The master bedroom,” Emile said, pushing open two wooden doors. Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sight of the bedroom. It was white with red accents that reminded her of the suit that Jake wore. Hanging above a california king bed was a picture of the fucker himself. Y/N scoffed, of course, he had a picture of himself hanging above the bed, “Mr. Jacob doesn’t stay here. He prefers a bed on the third floor with his brothers.”

“They are all very close?” Y/N asked and Emile nodded.

“Very close. They all served together in the Navy.”

Now that was one thing the internet did not tell Y/N. That meant one of two things, they never served long enough to make an impact, or the Navy was trying hard to keep them all a secret. Whatever the reason was, Y/N was going to find out more about it.

Y/N walked over and ran her hands on the satin bed sheets. They were soft and still smelled like the packaging. The room had an overall cold feeling to it, like no one had ever stayed in the room. Y/N could tell that the paint on the walls wasn’t the original colors. She could see the slight difference in paint colors as the walls met at the ceiling. She ran her hands over the footboard of the bed, humming to herself as she did.

“Is that tune from ‘Annie’?” Emile asked, and Y/N lifted her head, smiling.

“It is.”

When Y/N was little, before she knew most about what her family did for a living, she used to play around like she was the little Orphan Annie first coming to Daddy Warbucks’ house. She used to play the song ‘I Think I’m Gonna Like it Here’ while running up and down the halls with her mother, making the butlers and the maids sing along with her. She did it at every house she moved into, it was one of the good memories she had with her mother.

Y/N paused and looked at the picture above the bed, and then at Emile, “When will they be back?”

“Oh, they stay out very late,” Emile answered, “I see them leave at night and stumble around the next morning with hangovers.” She smiled and sighed, “Your bath is waiting for you, dear. Any questions, don’t be scared to ask.”

“Thank you.” “They aren’t all monsters,” Emile said, “Just a little rough around the edges. You know what they say, ‘only the good die young’.”

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biffhofosho · 2 years

Text

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Seven

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: First off, it’s actually crazy to me how vocal you cool kids are about this story considering how small my little third-person POV readership bubble is. Like, I think I’m in love with you people.

Second of all, since you’re so vocal, I hear tell that a few of you would like to file some grievances with your local HR rep regarding my babygirl’s gatekeeping of herself when it comes to her husband lmao. Let’s see what our darling prince might do this chapter to pry open those gates, hm? ;)

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

After their second night together, Naran had found things much more troubling for her than the first. It wasn’t just that everything in her bed smelled like Hyungwon now. It wasn’t just that, after one overnight, her body had already started keeping to one side of the bed. Most damningly, she had laid awake far too long dwelling on the way her body had almost compelled her to kiss him. She tried to forgive herself, to rationalize it away as human nature, but no matter what reason she settled on, it wasn’t good enough. She had made a promise to herself that her future would not be ruled by the passing fancies of men, and when Narangerel of Moghulikhan made a choice, she was resolute. She would not invite him into her bed so carelessly so soon.

But by the same token, she had also made a promise to her sister to include the girl’s new brother-in-law in their daily activities, and Naran was also a woman of her word. Over the next week that passed, she found small ways to appease Saran while safeguarding her peace of mind.

When the sisters went to the library, the prince tagged along. Luckily, once they were there, it was a solitary experience, which made it easy for Naran while Saran and her new brother reviewed books together.

Another day, Saran had wanted to paint in the gardens, so Naran had suggested the prince come along to be her sister’s subject. Unfortunately, that backfired since Naran was a dreadful painter, and her sister had ended up begging the crown princess to pose with the crown prince. Sharing a bench for hours with her husband under a shady maple hadn’t exactly been in her plans, especially when their sides had to be pressed together.

At least during the next day, when they had all taken tea together, Naran had finagled it so her sister sat between them, and the crown princess had gotten some much needed distance, save from his big-eyed, gentle-browed looks over his tea cup.

The most challenging day had seen Hyungwon teaching the sisters how to fish in one of the ponds. Fishing wasn’t much of a skill set for the ladies of the steppe, so it had required hands-on instruction, which the prince had been more than agreeable to offer, but the difference in his instruction between the two sisters was marked. Saran had received a side-by-side cast and reel tutorial; Naran, he informed, was a hopeless case, and the prince had taken to wrapping his wife in his arms and carefully positioning her hands and body for “the perfect cast.” She might have caught her first fish that way, but it had come at the high cost of a lingering kiss to her cheek after her success.

Thankfully, the next day saw the whole party of royal ladies on an excursion to an apple festival in town since the silk festival they had initially planned on was further away, and Queen Jigme was not keen on a full day’s ride. Though Naran had been looking for an excuse to get as far away from the palace as possible, the apple festival had turned out to be lovelier than she had dreamed. She had only had apples once in Urga, and they had been far too soft and mealy for her taste, but these were firm and honeyed and all together divine in ways she’d never dreamed.

“Your Royal Highness, please, I beg you take one home for your husband,” beseeched a peddler as she crammed a particularly shiny apple into the princess’s basket.

Now, the apple felt like an anvil in Naran’s hands on the ride home. She considered eating it herself—Hyungwon would never be the wiser—but the farmer had been so proud and so insistent, and the crown princess knew she had to honor her subject’s offering. In the end, she wished she hadn’t. The way her husband’s eyes lit up as he received his first gift from his wife made Naran sway the same way she had when she’d tasted fermented apple cider that morning.

The problem with lively days was how quickly the nights came. That first evening, Hyungwon had cornered the princess in an ill-lit hallway and asked with hopeful eyes if she would visit his chambers later. It had taken all of her strength to say no.

The intensity of their last encounter had frightened Naran. Though there had never been any hope of escaping how attractive she found the man, she thought at least that she might have some measure of control over that attraction, but it had become abundantly clear that, despite her rational mind, her body craved him. She figured if she limited his trespasses into her bed—or hers into his—in time, her mind could overcome her body. Obligations could stay obligations. They could be independent partners and friends—who sometimes had to sleep together for the sake of a nation.

Of course, the more she thought of it, the less reasonable it sounded. After their first night of cataclysmic experiences, Naran realized how quickly she’d become addicted to the pleasure Hyungwon had offered her. Without him, her bed felt too big and her sheets felt too cold, even after they’d been warmed by the servants.

A few more nights like that should have been easier. They weren’t. The knowledge that her husband’s door was a mere sprint across the parlor loomed large in her overactive imagination. Which was why after only an hour into her second night alone, she had retreated to Saran’s room and stayed there the rest of the week. That way, it was easy enough to turn down the prince’s offers for the time being.

Meanwhile, as if to spite her meticulous planning, the rest of their families got along surprisingly easily considering a few months ago, their countries were on the brink of unspoken war. The emperor and the khan, in particular, seemed to have formed some kind of a bond. Most nights, they retired to the emperor’s office to drink and joke so raucously that their laughter reverberated down the halls.

The empress and queen were not as free with one another, to the point that Naran thought they were simply trying to out-noble one another. By the end of the week, in Naran’s opinion, they were neck-and-neck in propriety, modesty, and poise, though Empress Indeok held the edge in sophisticated passive aggression and Queen Jigme surpassed in subtle coercion. Truly, they were a well-matched pair, and, indeed, after the apple festival, the sisters caught the mothers stolen away in a bath closet where they no doubt never expected to be found, giggling and sipping fermented cider straight from the bottle.

Which was why the next day came like a dust storm across the steppe—brutally and unpredictably.

Queen Jigme stood in the parlor before the princess, who thought she’d carved out a moment of peace for herself as Saran and Hyungwon had gone to the kitchen for a snack.

“I have come to tell you we intend to return to Urga tomorrow.”

Air fled the room, leaving an inescapable vacuum.

Naran gaped at her mother. “What? So soon? I thought everyone was getting along? You planned to stay at least two more weeks!”

She had to have heard the queen wrong. They were having fun together. There was no reason to leave!

“Yes, but your father’s health dictates it,” added Jigme, “and you know how the weather can be crossing the steppe this close to October. Every day we delay, we risk a snowstorm, and with your father—”

“Mother, don’t lie to me. October is weeks and weeks away, and you yourself said you had never seen Father in finer spirits.”

The queen stood a little taller now, and it was clear she’d shed her act. “You’re as shrewd as your accursed mother, my obstinate sun. Since we linger here, you are spending every waking moment with the people who have seen you every day for two decades yet hardly a whit of time with your new husband.”

“I'd rather spend it with you since our time is finite,” Naran protested bitterly.

“I will not have a princess of Moghulikan dishonor the country that took her in. Be a newlywed, dearest. Have a picnic. Host a party. Go horseback riding. I have heard your Prince Hyungwon looks very handsome on a horse.”

“Mother!”

“I dare say he will look handsome anywhere, especially in the evenings. I am sure candlelight frames his face well.”

“Are you trying to get me to push you out the door because it’s working?”

“Narangerel, let me speak plainly. I know you have spent every night this week in your sister’s room instead of your own.”

The princess scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor as she shrugged. “What of it? I knew you’d be leaving soon. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jigme was unamused. “Are you or are you not the Princess Supreme of Goryeo?”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mother…”

“My love, you will make such beautiful heirs! I can hardly wait to receive the news of my grandchildren.”

“Okay, there it is,” Naran shouted, pushing her mother toward the door. “Yes, please go! Travel safely and wait a long time to come back.”

Jigme laughed and, suddenly, so did Naran, and then just as suddenly, they were both weeping into each other’s arms.

“How I will miss arguing with you,” said the queen into her daughter’s hair.

“I’ll make sure to pick a fight with you in all my letters.”

“And I’ll be sure to scold you back.”

They laughed again through tears and hugged all the tighter. Maybe if Naran never let go, they couldn’t leave her after all.

“If you see an eagle in the sky, be sure to tell Altantsetseg I love her,” begged the princess.

“I will.”

“And give my favorite horse to someone who will ride her often and far. Not Khunbish in the stables. He’s a terrible rider and swears at the horses. You should really turn him out.”

The queen chuckled in agreement as she nodded. “Done, my sun.”

“And please write me often,” Naran said, though the words were getting gummier through her increasingly stuffy nose, “so I don’t forget how to read Moghul.”

“You will not forget who you are, dearest. Of that, I am most certain. You are the best of us.”

“I love you, Mother.”

The queen held her daughter’s face with her hands along with her gaze. Slowly, a smile lit up the corners of Jigme’s strong features. “I love you, too.”

Naran pulled back, wiped her eyes, and tried to stand as tall as her mother had always coached her to. With a bow for her goodnight, the princess turned begrudgingly back to her quarters before her mother’s voice caught her.

“Where are you going?” asked the queen.

“To my room, as you said?”

Jigme smirked. “Your sister’s quarters are the other way. I told her moments before coming here, so she will need you one last night. Come.”

Her mother stretched out her hand, and Naran took it. As they walked back to the guest wing, the princess wondered if this would be the last time she would ever hold her mother’s hand, and she squeezed just a little tighter for just a little longer.

It was a dark day. It wasn’t just that the Moghul royal caravan had been packed and readied, the horses champing at their bits before the gates, but the clouds were thick and heavy as they jostled over Namgyeong. The threat of rain was ever-present, but just as Naran held back her tears watching her family pack into their carriage, so, too, did the clouds hold back theirs. It was only a matter of time before the deluge.

With the khan and the queen already loaded in the carriage, Saran followed, but with only one foot in the cabin, she let out a wail and leapt back out, charging over to her sister.

“This is a mistake!” the young princess shouted. “We can’t leave you here! You belong in Moghulikhan!”

“Saran!” both the queen and the crown princess said in unison.

“Get back in this carriage this instant,” admonished their mother as she eyed the emperor and empress, who were waiting to bid their guests farewell. “You’re making a scene.”

Saran didn’t care as she buried her face in her sister’s hanbok. “I could never bear a move this far from home, so how can you? I know I said I was happy for you, but not when I know what you love most is Moghulikhan. You love it so much, and you are giving it up.”

Naran summoned all her poise and bravery to soothe her little sister’s hair and kiss her head. “It is not Moghulikhan I truly love, but you, my little fox. My match will ensure you find that one special person who brings you joy. You will marry someone who will rule Moghulikhan beside you, and you will be happy and loved, and our people will be forever grateful.”

“They should be grateful to you then,” Saran protested. “I know I am.”

“Thank me by being happy.”

The girl’s hands tightened around Naran’s back. “And what about you? Can you be happy here?”

The crown princess smiled. “I can be happy anywhere knowing you are safe and free.”

“Princess Sarangerel!” called the queen again from the carriage, this time far more desperately.

The sisters rolled their eyes at one another, burst into one final giggle, and hugged one last time. Naran stole the moment to whisper, “Kiss a few boys if you want. Be smart, be strong, be fearless, and never, ever settle. You are Crown Princess of Moghulikhan now, and you are a force to be reckoned with, Your Highness.”

“I love you, Naran!”

“I love you more. Now, go, before Mother has a heart attack or Father goes deaf."

Naran shooed her sister back toward the carriage, and with one final look back, her little sister climbed aboard. One of the servants shut the door, and the next thing Naran knew, the gates had opened and the front of the caravan had already disappeared through. The last thing she saw was the grumpy beak of the goose the prince had gifted them at the wedding ceremony, a ridiculous reminder of the day her life had irrevocably changed.

Naran was sure the clatter of hooves and the snap of the Moghul banners in the sudden gusts would weigh on her mind forever as she watched the last of the carts disappear behind the great wooden doors of Changdeokgung.

“I am sorry to see your family leave,” said the empress behind Naran, startling her. As alone as she felt, the princess had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there with her. “They are very good people.”

“I thank you for saying so,” the princess replied, though her words were hollow.

Hyungwon put his hand on her back in support, but she shrank away. She wasn’t in the mood for comfort or even acknowledgment.

“I never met a man who could hold his liquor as well as Delger Khan,” said Emperor Gongmin as though he hadn’t plotted to take everything away from the man mere months ago.

Naran felt sick.

“I should like to go inside now,” she said as she turned back toward the palace. The princess did not wait for them to follow, even as Hyungwon called out for her.

It started to rain just then. It was only a few fat drops at first, but then the heavens opened with a torrent, and as the other royals scattered under servants’ umbrellas, Naran pressed forward undeterred. At least the rain could hide her tears.

It was deep into a sleepless night when Naran heard a very soft knock on her door.

With a tremendous sigh, she clambered out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before she shuffled over and rasped, “Who is it?”

“It’s Hyungwon.”

Her head drooped. She was not in the mood to entertain a bored prince, now more than ever.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you open the door please?”

Naran growled and swore under her breath, but she opened the door all the same. Waiting on the other side with the sweetest of smiles was the prince.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“You did not. What does his highness need at this late hour?” Truly, Naran had planned to be more polite, but her eyes were tired from crying and she didn’t have the energy.

Hyungwon gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, “I wanted to see if you would join me for a drink?”

He waggled two glasses along with a bottle of clear, sloshing liquid, and as much as the princess burned to drink herself into oblivion, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure, Princess? I know what today asked of you.”

Naran choked back a sob just before she could embarrass herself and instead offered a reluctant nod. Hyungwon echoed it and took a step forward, but she held out her hand to stop him.

“Not here,” she ordered. She wanted to be as far away from any place they could conceivably spend another night together and just as far away from the memories of the ones they already had spent.

“How about my study then? It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”

Another single nod from the princess.

“Shall I get dressed?” she asked.

“Come as you are,” Hyungwon answered. “There’s no need for pretenses between us.”

But Naran wasn’t so sure about that. She tugged her robe tighter and cinched the collar with her hand. Following the weak light of the prince’s candle, they walked down the corridor to a wing she had only visited on her initial palace tour. Here, the walls were dark, many draped in tapestries or heavy curtains. At night, it felt more like a brothel. She didn’t remember it looking this suggestive on her tour, yet now, the walls felt close, almost pressing against her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” asked Hyungwon. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your own skin.”

“I’m fine.”

The prince considered her words for a moment before he pushed ahead to a heavy door.

“My private study,” he said as he eased it open.

This room had been on her tour as well, but Naran had been too overwhelmed at the time to bother glancing at it. Now, she’d wished she had for the benefit of seeing it on a sunny day. As with every room in the palace, it was large with soaring ceilings, but swaddled in shadows, it was tantalizingly intimate.

Unlike most of the rooms in the palace, Hyungwon had designed his study with a Western influence. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall while a long dresser anchored the other beneath an enormous mirror that no doubt cost more than the yearly salaries of all the servants back in Urga. When he lit the candelabra in front of it, the whole study glittered.

The prince’s desk commanded the space, however. It was huge and heavy, as though the tree it had once been had grown right there and they’d just built the room around it. Thick, smooth lacquer drew out the warmth in the wood like a magnifying glass while ornate carvings of tigers and dragons in eternal battle exemplified its strength. Short of the throne itself, there was no finer piece of furniture Naran had ever seen.

Hyungwon stood behind his desk, and even in his silk robes, his might was unquestionable. If he opened his lips to declare war on every kingdom in the six realms, Naran wasn’t sure she could stop even herself from kneeling.

But, instead, the prince pulled out his chair and gestured toward it. “Please sit, my lady.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Naran stared at the immaculate upholstery and overstuffed cushions before she looked back at her husband. “Are you sure?”

Hyungwon nodded and took the seat safely across the desk to make his stance on the issue crystal clear. At last, the princess sank into her chair, too, which was easily the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. He uncorked the bottle, and immediately, the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the study. The prince poured a draft of liquor into both shot glasses and passed one across the table.

When Naran had hers in hand, he said, “I promise, my lady, from here on out, it shall get better.”

Thinking it the toast, the princess raised her glass and knocked it back while Hyungwon followed suit with a smirk on his face. At first, Naran didn’t understand why.

Then she felt it.

Scorching agony blazed a trail down her throat to sit like lava in her stomach. For a second, she thought she might breathe fire.

“What the hell is that!” she wailed as she tried to scratch the taste of naphtha from her tongue.

“I told you it would only get better from here. You’ll like this a great deal more the second go-around.”

“I'm never drinking that again,” Naran swore.

Hyungwon smiled knowingly.

“Seriously, what is that rancid stuff?”

“A gift from the Emperor of Champa.”

“My mother was right then,” Naran mused with a slow smile, “Princess Binh was gunning for an alliance with Goryeo.”

“I wouldn't say the princess was,” Hyungwon informed. “Emperor Gia Long seemed more concerned with the match than his daughter. Princess Binh mostly just complained to me that the weather in Goryeo is too cold and that there are no beaches or coconuts here.”

“If I knew all it took to turn you off from a match was complaining about missing sand and sun, I would have spent more time talking about the Gobi.”

“It was too late by that point. I had already made up my mind about you,” said the prince. He poured another drink and offered it to her. “Again, my lady?”

She bit her lip as she considered, but the other alternative was chatting privately with her husband sober, and she didn’t have the strength left for such a thing after today. Naran downed the shot and grimaced.

“Better?” he asked.

“Still disgusting.”

“But better.”

The truth was, this time, her stomach felt warm and fuzzy instead of full of liquid fire, and her limbs were buzzing lightly. Thanks to the distracting sensations, she probed, “Were there any other princesses you considered that night?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My father had given me a short list, but after meeting all of them, I knew I couldn’t marry any one of them.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they were storybook princesses—all beautiful and sweet and perfect, to be sure, but completely one-dimensional.”

“That sounds perfect for you, are you crazy!” Naran retorted.

Hyungwon smiled. “Perfect for my kingdom, but you know me well enough now, my lady. I’m hardly perfect for my kingdom.”

“So, this is why I find myself sulking in the most expensive chair I’ve ever seen drinking the foulest drink I’ve ever tasted from a princess who hoped to wed my husband?”

The prince poured yet another round and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

Naran tipped back her glass, and this time, instead of a hiss as the liquid coated her throat, she hummed. “Better.”

“Told you,” said Hyungwon with two charming high eyebrows.

“That’s no reason to get cocky.”

The prince laughed, and on a day with no laughter at all, it sounded all the warmer. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Hyungwon said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Maybe we should take the drinks slower then. This stuff is a lot stronger than soju.”

“Maybe you should stop making my decisions for me,” Naran challenged, tapping her empty glass on the table for a refill. “I might be Goryeon by title, but I'm Moghul by birth. Alcohol is already in our blood.”

With a stern eye, the prince poured a noticeably smaller portion this round, and she sighed but drank it all the same.

Hyungwon watched her lips pucker as it went down and then he said, “How are you faring today?”

“Great. Everything is going exactly as I always hoped and dreamed,” she said, the sarcasm extra biting thanks to the bitterness in the alcohol. “Another.”

Hyungwon repeated the same shallow pour and then sat across from his wife, watching her with gentle eyes. Either he did not know what to say or he was afraid of another blow to his self-esteem—or maybe it was neither of those things. Everything about him was so soft right now, borderline inviting, like something Naran could fall right into.

“I’m afraid that was the last time I shall ever see my father.” The words were out too fast for her greased lips to catch them as was the tear at the corner of her eye. She swiped it angrily away as she grumbled, “I should have married Prince Grigoriy like my grandfather wanted.”

Hyungwon blinked hard. “Grigoriy of Kazan?”

Naran nodded. “My grandfather had intended us practically, but he could not force my hand.”

“So that’s why he was staring at you all night…” said the prince, lost in a memory of the night they met in her grandfather’s ballroom.

Naran thought back to it, too. It was harder now to recall some of the details since most of the night had been overtaken by memories of Hyungwon, but she did recall avoiding every corner of the room the Kazan prince occupied just so she didn’t have to come up with another reason to refuse him.

“I should have just married him. At least then I would have been close to home.”

The prince pouted his lower lip, and Naran’s attention couldn’t help but shoot to it—her husband did have an unfairly pretty mouth.

“But,” Hyungwon objected, “all you would have for dinner every night is beets and cabbage. We eat much better in Goryeo.”

At that, Naran burst out laughing. “You truly do. Beets and cabbage… Never thought about that. I’ll drink to that.”

The princess tipped back her glass again, and Hyungwon drained his, too.

“You know,” she said, biting her lip and leaning farther across the table than she normally would have, “you’re way too pretty. I don’t like your face.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You don’t?”

“I do not! Even when I want to tell you to go far away from me, I cannot. It makes it very hard for me to hate you.”

“Why do you need to hate me?”

“Because if I don’t hate you, then I have to admit I have in some way accepted the man who took me away from everything I love.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he busied himself with two fresh pours. He downed his immediately while Naran watched him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“There’s no point in apologizing now.”

The prince kept his head down though he shook it gently. “You misunderstand. I’m not sorry that you’re by my side now, but I am sorry for what it cost you. Maybe that’s what I’m sorrier about than anything. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to becoming my father, yet I can’t regret it because you’re here now… with me.”

Naran’s hand trembled, and she misjudged the desk when she reeled back and splashed liquor all over the wood, but there was no time to care, not when the prince was staring at her so openly with such flushed, wet lips.

“I should slap you for such an insulting apology,” she said.

Hyungwon waited, perhaps for the justified blow, but Naran’s hand didn’t move.

Instead, her voice dropped as her eyes slid to the mirror where their reflections danced in the candelabra flames.

“Why did you even need me anyway? If you wanted someone to be your friend, you had a line as long as your borders. Anyone would have been a better choice for you than I am. Why did you pick the one person who thinks of marriage as the forfeiture of all freedom?”

“What is so wrong with depending on someone? I've lived my whole life without it. It isn't freedom,” replied the prince, his eyes falling to his glass. “It's a prison of loneliness.”

He knocked back the drink without so much as a wince. Somehow, as he hunched over his desk, his smooth edges blurred even further and begged her to reach out.

Naran ran her fingertip around the lip of her glass as guilt and something even more intimidating rippled through her.

“Aren’t you lonely, too?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

“It's not loneliness I feel but bitterness.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, it is... My father was right. I am a fool.”

“You could have had anyone, my lord. As grateful as I am for the protection of my people, you didn't owe Moghulikhan anything. Why did you have to choose me?”

“I guess you can't help how you feel,” he lamented.

Panic set her heart on fire. “How do you—”

The prince cut her off with a frantic look. “Which is why I know I'm asking for the impossible, but please, for my sake, Princess, can you tell me just one thing you like about me because I can’t stand another day thinking I married someone who despises me?”

“I don’t despise you,” Naran admitted softly. “I’m not sure anyone could.”

Flashes of adoring faces from every room he had ever entered stormed through her mind, the thin-eyed, bitten-lip women clinging most tenaciously to her memories. The princess downed her last shot to chase them away.

“But you don’t like me either,” Hyungwon finished.

The couple’s gazes could not waver from one another, no matter how hard Naran fought to sever their connection.

Your eyes talk to one another…

At the memory of Magda’s words, something uncoiled in the princess’s chest and snaked through her body.

There was much about her husband Naran admired. Hyungwon listened. He defended her. He upheld his promises. But he might interpret any one of those things to mean more than just appreciation for someone she respected. Best to stick to something superficial, she thought.

As desperate to fill the Moghulikhan-sized hole in her heart as she was to avoid the dejection in her husband’s voice, the princess reached across the ocean of his desk. She held her breath, her hand frozen as though anything further would trigger a trip wire that could fundamentally rearrange everything between them.

Naran bit her lip.

“I like this little freckle here,” she said as her fingertip glanced across the pinprick dot on the side of his nose.

Hyungwon stiffened at her touch though his mouth slackened.

“And this one, too,” she continued. This time, it was her thumb that pressed on the tawny freckle dead center on his bottom lip. “I like it a lot.”

In the end, she gave away too much of herself. The prince now knew how carefully she had mapped his face. Even though a wife didn’t need a reason to look at her husband, Naran thought that maybe she should have chosen anything else. His silky hair, his expressive eyes, his proud shoulders—

Only then Naran realized she was still touching his lips.

Hyungwon kissed the pad of her thumb and her breath hitched. She yanked back her hand and tried to quash its shaking by sitting on it, but she felt the vibrations all the way up her arm even then.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he looked away at last.

Naran’s skin was aflame as she busied herself divining shapes from the inky blobs on the prince’s blotter.

“How about one final drink?” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Hyungwon poured to the rim this time, but before they could drink, out came the things that had occupied the princess’s thoughts all day as she had stared blankly in her room. “So, what happens now that everyone has gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I’m supposed to spend my days apart from yours.”

“Oh…” His eyes fell to the liquid fire in his glass. “Yes, I’m sure a princess has as much to occupy her time as a prince does.”

“So, as far as ensuring heirs, shall we establish some kind of schedule then?”

At this, Hyungwon’s face soured as the princess had never seen before. “A schedule— Does it always have to be about heirs between us? Am I not allowed to just want you sometimes, too?”

Want me? Naran thought, absolutely incredulous. Beyond the bounds of our contract?

“It is best if we keep feelings out of these things, your highness,” she answered with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

“Who’s talking about feelings? Was it ever about love with any of the others you've been with?”

“No,” she admitted.

Both lovers had been handsome, forward, and uncomplicated. Words were rarely exchanged. They had taken her at first opportunity—in alleys or the stables and once in the grass. Before her wedding night, Naran had never even had sex in a bed. And the other thing those lovers had had in common? After a few meetings, they were gone from her life. But the princess could not outrun the prince. For better or worse, they were in each other’s lives forever.

Hyungwon looked as forthright as ever as he asked, “Then shouldn’t I be able to say that I desire you as a man desires a woman? If you let them, why can’t you let me?”

Naran downed her last drink, and in her rush, a bit wept from the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and then the corner, and there was no missing the way the prince’s eyes followed her tongue.

“Do you think,” he said slowly, “you could ever desire me?”

In the perfect silence of the empty wing, the princess could hear her every breath. It was too fast, too ragged.

“Yes.”

The air was electrified. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Somewhere outside, a dog bayed at the late summer moon.

At once, Hyungwon sent the glasses and bottle tumbling to the carpet with a thud and a splash. He kicked back his chair as he shot up to circle the desk. Naran had to crane her head to look up at the towering frame of her husband until she found his heavy eyes. Without a word, he scooped her out of her chair. The princess yelped, her hands flinging around his neck as he spun the pair of them to the now-empty desk. The smell of alcohol and something spicier swirled around them. He leaned toward her lips before catching himself at the last second, and whatever gentleness had lingered in those eyes fled entirely.

The prince was nothing but dark lusts now.

To Naran’s surprise, Hyungwon sat her on the edge of his desk, and between the cold wood and the loss of his scorching body, she shivered. It only worsened when she felt his fingers at the knot of her belt, and seconds later, her robe fell open to expose the thin white silk of her nightgown.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He simply stooped over to kiss the column of her throat with ravenous lips. The princess gasped and tipped her head to the side to give him more skin to taste. He was quick to cover the new ground as his hand traced up her frame to her covered breast where he toyed with the soft mound beneath. Naran’s body responded with both a desperate moan and a tightening nipple aching for his fingers to shower it with attention.

It was easy to descend into hedonism with him. Though the alcohol had burned away her resentment, Naran was still heartbroken and angry and tired of feeling both. Hyungwon, though, was warm and real and determined to transport her out of the grayness she’d been mired in, as much for her as for himself evidently.

“Is this—ah—is this for the throne?” she said through her gasps, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“Not tonight. This is for my wife.”

The princess let out a little cry as she felt the familiar tingle between her thighs. In a matter of a few words, her body was tuned to his.

Before Naran could process it, Hyungwon had dropped to his knees. With the utmost care, he eased the satin slippers from each of her feet before his fingers played about her naked ankles. There, he traced the hills and valleys along her heels and, once they were mapped, his hands glided along the flare of her calves. With his every touch, little sparklers alighted in her head and heart.

The higher his hands climbed, so did the hem of her gown. Cold air rushed under the fabric, and by the time Hyungwon had bared her knees, the princess was begging for the relief from the rush of heat to her core. Leisurely, he parted her legs, and with every inch, the princess felt a little more frantic and a little more self-conscious. Once he had spread her knees as far as the desk would allow, they quivered and threatened to close again.

“Trust me, my princess,” said the prince in his rich velvet.

“I’ve never—” Against her will, Naran’s voice shook. “I’ve never had anyone so close to me there before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Naran held her breath. She was scared and overwhelmed and painfully aware of her body, but Hyungwon showed no sign of hesitation or second thoughts. With a shaky exhale, she admitted, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. Not until you beg me to.”

Her husband turned his attention to one of her knees and placed his lips there. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more like a caress with the tender skin of his mouth, back and forth in soothing waves. Occasionally, his tongue would gloss along her flesh and only then would he seal his ministration with a true kiss. With one knee bathed in his adoration, he switched to the other.

Just as Naran slouched against the desk, Hyungwon moved his mouth to her mid-thigh, and this time, he sucked the responsive skin there until she arched up with a howl. He released her, and when he pulled back, the princess saw a dark mark on the once-unblemished peachy flesh. Instantly, wanton desire trickled at her sex, begging for attention he wasn’t yet ready to give.

Hyungwon nudged his new brand with the tip of his nose before he kissed it and then placed a twin mark alongside it. He kept indulging her with his tongue until the princess was nearly ready to explode.

“Oh, please! More, my prince. Please,” Naran pleaded.

The prince broke his seal at last and shifted his gaze up to hers. He charted the sag of her jaw and the peek of her tongue lolling at the corner of her mouth, and he smiled. “More?”

“Higher!” she demanded.

Hyungwon gathered her nightgown at her hips, the fabric drooping in front of her center in a last-ditch effort of modesty but sparing nothing else for her prince’s imagination. Here, he kissed and nibbled every surrounding inch of virgin skin until Naran’s thighs shook with the foreplay and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out a sob of frustration, and it garnered all his attention.

Their eyes met, hers even heavier-lidded than his. Through the well of tears at her lashes, Hyungwon’s face splintered into a kaleidoscope of ethereal beauty.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” soothed the prince.

He hoisted up the last of the gown over her hips and exposed her core for him.

“Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

Naran held her breath and collapsed onto the desk, too embarrassed to watch.

She felt a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and lip followed by another mirrored on the opposite side. It was feather-light and unbearably sensual, but it was only the prelude to a new and unforgettable kind of kiss. With pulse-pounding pressure, Hyungwon raked his flush bottom lip up along her seam to kiss the hardening button peeking through, and as good as that felt, it only intensified with a second pass, this one featuring the flat of his tongue.

Naran’s moan made way for a pathetic whine. Her legs squeezed against the onslaught of pleasure, so Hyungwon curled his fingers around the meat of her thighs to keep her at his mercy.

He took his work seriously, keeping his rhythm consistent save for the swirl he would occasionally surprise her with around her straining bud. In those moments, the princess saw stars.

When her eyes finally opened, she found her head had lolled to the side, and there she found her husband’s reflection glowing, not just by tangerine flame but by something softer and even more shimmery. Hyungwon felt her gaze, and his mouth lifted from her only to be replaced by his middle finger easing deep into her pinkness. He turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes there, and slowly, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that deepened until she felt yet another delicious burn on her skin.

“How pretty my little star looks writhing on my desk,” Hyungwon murmured, and then suckled a little higher to adorn more of her skin with his black marks of desire.

His finger moved slowly in her walls, coaxing forth ripples of ecstasy Naran had never felt before. Each stroke was deliberate and far, far too measured to do anything but keep her on the precipice of climax. It was heaven. It was hell.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hummed, and she whimpered. “So delicious. You’re totally at my mercy now, aren’t you?"

Naran couldn’t answer, but she knew he wasn’t looking for that anyway. Her legs tightened at his illicit words. Between her husband’s praise and his intimacy, she squirmed for him.

He brought his lips back to the cherry blossom at her sex, and when they closed around it to suckle, the princess keened low and long. The pressure was relentless and just right to make her forget anything that wasn’t Chae Hyungwon. Her hips bucked, but he used his free hand to hold her down while the other continued to stoke the fire inside her.

“Do you like when I spoil you like this?” he asked as he came up for air.

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes!” Naran answered. “But I want more. Faster!”

“How many times have you called me lazy, hm? Maybe I just want to take my time, to feast on you and show you what a sweet indulgence laziness can be.”

To her horror, Hyungwon removed his finger, leaving her core seizing around nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes in desperation, and she sat up on her elbows to gape at the man who was abandoning her just as her addiction had mounted to frenetic levels.

“You can’t—” she protested, but he just smiled, smug and scheming all at once.

When he dove back in, he focused on one fold and then the other, with long strokes of his tongue before pulling each one at a time into his mouth. Every nerve ending tingled. Every inch of skin yearned for more of his attention.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he mumbled between her legs, and Naran’s fingers raced into his locks.

It felt so good to hold his head in her hands. Her nails raked against his scalp before she took to tugging on the glossy strands. Hyungwon purred contentedly as he licked up the mess continuously leaking from her sex, and the noisier he was, the harder it made the princess shake until she realized she was grinding herself on his face. Mortified, she unwound her fingers from his locks as she mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t tell you to let me go,” Hyungwon scolded, and when she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a chin covered in arousal and eyes fixed with determination.

It was clear he had no intention of finishing the job unless she caved to his wishes, so Naran ran her hands back through his bangs to bare his smooth brow. The prince’s eyes closed as he leaned into her grip, and it was so tender, that she thought her heart might burst, but if she stopped, he would stop, and she couldn’t bear the thought again.

Hyungwon’s finger was back at her core now with the addition of another. Together, they traced her entrance, and every time she thought he would enter her again, he deprived her of the gratification. It was the purest torture of her life, and Naran could barely stand it. Her need for her husband had reached embarrassing levels too terrifying to admit.

At last, two fingers glided into her wet and ready indecency, sending her arching up from the desk with a wail.

“It's so much!” she said between heavy pants.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!”

Hyungwon smiled as he picked up speed at last, stretching her walls with every thrust to his knuckles. Luscious coos of gratitude spilled from Naran’s lips as she took his fingers greedily. He knew just how to reach the parts inside of her that responded most ferociously, and in moments, she was teetering over the edge she’d been standing on forever.

His fingers pistoned within her now, churning up filthy sounds that brought color to the princess’s cheeks and hunger to the prince’s eyes.

“I can’t—breathe,” Naran gasped pathetically. “I’m begging you please! Please. I want to let go!”

Hyungwon groaned and dove back to her heat again. His mouth sealed around her pulsing button now as he sucked and flicked his tongue against her until she thought she might go mad. He slipped both of her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her with single-minded resolve to make her forget everything that wasn’t him.

She risked a glance at him, and things got fuzzy fast. His elegant face was framed between the softness of her thighs, his nose bumping against her mound and his eyes shuttered with conviction. Her hand cupped the back of his head as her hips couldn’t stop themselves from driving into his mouth.

And then those wicked eyes opened, locking on hers.

Bliss ripped through Naran with catastrophic devastation. Every muscle within her shook as her lungs constricted and her walls pulsed. Her heels dug into her husband’s back as her thighs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him.

Here, on a desk where armies were commanded and laws were enforced, the princess came undone with a racking cry.

But, true to his word, Hyungwon wasn’t done.

He kept his fingers thrusting into her quaking walls as one climax ended and another threatened, only this one felt unbearable and impossible. The pleasure was too intense, and her hips tried to run from him as though they were afraid of such unfathomable ecstasy.

Naran’s mind emptied. Even through winched eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I can’t take it, oh!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can, darling,” he assured. “Just a little more, I know you can.”

“My pr— Yes, I—”

The tip of his tongue flicked her swollen bud again, fast this time and with no restraint. As her vision whitened, Naran clawed the desk, no doubt leaving scratches in the impeccable veneer. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t seize then.

Another swirl of his tongue and a long, fierce suckle, and she was gone.

She thought she might have screamed, but she might have lost any senses that weren’t solely centered on the exquisite decadence between her thighs.

She collapsed then, whimpering, the last of her strength focusing on her heel to push him back by the shoulder.

“Please, no more,” she whimpered, absolutely deflated. “I beg you.”

“As you wish, my darling. Feel better?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled her gown back down her legs.

“You’re—wow,” Naran stammered. “You’re really good at that.”

Something fanged and slippery snaked through her chest at the thought of all the practice he had required to become so skilled, but with one glance at his eyes now buoyed by a soft smile, it tempered.

“Do you need help getting up?” he asked.

“You’re not going to—to take me?” the princess asked incredulously.

“I told you tonight wasn’t about the throne. All I wanted was to make you feel good, my lady. Was I successful?”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. She could tell by the way his tongue probed his cheek and his chest puffed that the man was keenly aware of just how thoroughly he had devastated his wife. His smug confidence was as appealing as it was infuriating.

“You were,” she admitted carefully.

“It was a pleasure to serve you then, my lady. So, that’s a no to the help?”

“No,” she insisted, though as soon as she put her toes back to the ground, she wobbled and stumbled back against the desk. “Yes.”

Hyungwon snickered and helped guide Naran back into the chair, where she slumped instantly. Alcohol mixed with the chaser of ecstasy to keep the room spinning around her, so she closed her eyes while her breathing steadied. Images of her body writhing in the mirror while her husband kneeled between her legs insisted on flashing in her mind, and a sigh tumbled out of her to her absolute mortification.

“You all right?” he asked with a grin evident in his voice.

“Just fine,” she answered immediately, waving him off.

While Naran lounged in the chair, the prince picked up the glasses and bottle from the floor, and something surprisingly boastful of her own bubbled in her heart.

“I don’t think the Emperor of Champa would appreciate our use of his gift,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should write to him to thank him again?”

At the seriousness in the prince’s voice, the princess shot up in her seat. “Don’t you dare, sire!”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?”

This time, Hyungwon was unmistakably provoking her, and Naran bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she held her liquor well, but when his playful side came out, it always made her feel drunker than she really was.

“You better not,” she warned, “or, next time, you drink alone.”

At this, Hyungwon pouted. “Didn’t I make this worth your while?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder as casually as she could manage. “Maybe this is slightly better than what I was doing…”

“And maybe this was a little for me, too,” he admitted, “because now I will think of you every time they force me in here to do work I don’t want to do. Instead, I’ll think of someone I’d rather be doing.”

“My lord!” Naran cried, indignant, as she cinched her robe tight to her throat again, and Hyungwon laughed in his carefree, spirit-lifting way.

“You’re very fun to tease, my lady.”

“And you’re very annoying, my lord.”

“How are you feeling? Are you ready to return to your room?”

Naran pressed her lips together as she considered more than just her husband’s question. When they had come here, she had been determined to keep him as far from her room as possible, but now, the understanding that she would be going back solo was more disheartening than she thought. Maybe she was lonelier than she realized.

“I think so,” she answered though.

“Then I shall see you back, Princess.”

Naran rose on still-shaky legs to join her husband in the hallway, and slowly, they made their way back toward their building. They chatted idly about their schedules for the week, his filled with meetings and diplomatic engagements while most of her obligations involved goodwill ambassadorship with the empress. It may not have been anything she had wanted for her life, but it was less onerous than she thought. Of course, maybe that was also colored by her tipsy, post-full body release daze.

Just then, Naran stumbled and caught herself against the wall. Hyungwon let out the briefest of chuckles before he stopped them both and swept her up into the basket of his arms to her yelp.

“I can manage on my own,” she protested, swatting at his arm behind her knees.

“Of course, my lady, but it's taking a very long time, and I would like to get to my room before sun-up.”

She scoffed. “Please. You're never in a hurry to get anywhere. You just wanted to show how strong you are.”

“You think I'm strong?” he echoed, but she could tell by the flex in his voice that she was on target.

Naran folded her hands defiantly in her lap even though she would have felt far stabler if she’d wrapped them behind the prince’s neck.

“You do not appreciate help, do you?” Hyungwon pressed.

“I would if I truly needed it. Are you sure you don't just like playing the savior?”

“I wouldn't say ‘just.’ Perhaps one day I hope you might need me back.”

Back?

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t mind an excuse to have your arms around me.”

“They're not—” With horror, Naran realized that her body had betrayed her, and, at some point, she had knotted her hands behind his neck after all, and worse yet, she could not will them back to her lap. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” said Hyungwon with a grin.

“After this, I feel rather badly about kicking you out of my room so quickly the other night,” she admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps next time I will not be so rash.”

“Thank you, Princess,” was all he said, though he was smiling smugly to himself again.

At last, they reached their wing, and the prince put his wife down at her doorstep, though he waited there awkwardly as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said into the silence. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Naran kept her eyes on her slippered feet as she replied, “Thank you for asking. Truly, I am glad I went.”

“You are?”

At the hope in his voice, her eyes shot up to find his waiting, dark as always but with none of his particular brand of blackness that made her wary of his designs. This time, the darkness was inviting—and in many ways, that made it all the more dangerous.

Hyungwon took a step forward. Naran took one back. Her spine was flush to her door, and she could feel the carvings digging through the thin fabric of her robe. His hand flattened on the panel beside her face as he leaned down.

His breath blazed in the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Please think well of me, my lady. After all, we only have each other now.”

With that, Hyungwon kissed his wife’s cheek and bid her goodnight before he disappeared through his own bedroom door.

#monsta x smut #multichapter #prisoner to temptation #hyungwon smut #royal au #arranged marriage #romance #slow burn #bodice ripper #third person

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wareagleofthemountain · 1 year

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Pottery HC

A/N: I wanted to write something that tied into my HC that Silven elves, much like the Noldor, took great pride in their crafting abilities. However, they often created things using the natural materials at their disposal whereas the Noldor seemed to prefer metal as their primary medium. And also, Caladwen got an afternoon adventure with Orophin, it’s only fair that Rúmil got one too.

Caladwen wiped a strand of silver hair off her brow, the messy side braid coming further undone as she pushed it over her shoulder. She’d been engrossed in her task until the soft click of the front door latch unlocking alerted her to someone’s presence in her Talan. Standing from her seat at the outdoor table on her balcony, the elleth made her way inside to investigate.

“Haldir?” She called into the empty space. “Are you there mela?”

“Next best thing.” The tall ellon standing in the kitchen doorway replied, his features fairly similar to that of his sibling.

She smiled, relaxing a bit. “Ah, Rúmil. You startled me.”

The two embraced, Caladwen eyeing the bag he placed on the dining room table. “Apologies Cali. Haldir won’t be in until next week, but he told me to drop by and check on you. I’ve picked up some food at the market if you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, I am now that you mention it.”

Rúmil washed his hands in the basin, wringing out the cloth as his eyes scanned over to her workspace on the patio. “What have you got there?”

Caladwen looked up from where she was setting the table. “I collected some wild clay on my visit to the creek yesterday. Thought I’d make some new pottery and surprise Haldir when he returns home. I-I’ve fired the pieces and have them resting outside.”

Rúmil smiled, pleased that his brother was so well loved, and sat down to eat with his sister-in-law. “Looks like you’ve done a fine job, as always. You’re sculpting abilities are truly impeccable.”

Caladwen smirked, tossing her silvery hair dramatically. “Yeah. I can do pretty much anything.”

“Hmm. Except for baking it seems…” His eyes sparkled knowingly at her from above the rim of his tea mug, referring to the time she’d nearly burnt a cake to a blackened crisp.

“Hey! It’s not my fault Haldir left me unattended with the oven. As I recall, it was you who was so needy and called him over to help with your Talan renovations.”

He chuckled softly. “You ended up having to come over too and bind Orophin’s arm after he broke it falling through our weak roof while trying to clean the gutters.”

“Yes.” Indeed she did remember. It was the only time she’d ever seen the young ellon’s bluster falter.

“Say, I could bring over my paints if you wanted any help decorating your creations.” He offered, taking his last bite of meat.

“That would be lovely.”

They sat outside, Rúmil frequently glancing up from the clay mug in his hand to painstakingly recreate the colors of the purple sunset above their heads onto his canvas. The ceramic now adorned an image of a field of yellow flowers under the dusky purple sky.

“It’s beautiful…” Caladwen breathed.

“It was. I encountered this field on one of my trips to Imladris. It… was too beautiful to be forgotten. That was many years ago now. I doubt it still stands.”

“Well isn’t that the point of art? To make incredible things live on in the hearts of others even after they’re gone?” She questioned.

“Yes. That’s why I started painting.” The two smiled at each other, slipping into a comfortable silence as the stars slowly began to fill the sky.

Tag list: @elithilanor @glassgulls

#rumil of lothlorien #haldir x oc #haldir of lorien

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archduchessofnowhere · 1 year

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The Accidental Empress Reading Blog II: Feminist Duke Max and mandatory marriages by order of birth

Back with the end of the first part of the novel! I started writing this post about three weeks ago, and as of now I have already finished the novel. The next two reading blogs will cover part two and three, and I will focus less on the historical inaccuracies and more on the story itself, because spoiler alert, this just wasn't a good book period.

But first let's finish this part, which covers the weekend at Ischl in which our protagonist becomes engaged to the Emperor of Austria. This section is literally the 30% of the novel. That's right, it takes over a hundred pages to cover three days. And by God it just went on forever.

Sisi, her mother and sister left Possenhofen for Bad Ischl (in what apparently was an Odyssey of a trip because it took them weeks to travel 200 km). Now, the city only officially took the name of Bad Ischl in 1906, in 1853 it was simply known as Ischl. I'll forgive this mistake because biographers do tend to use the modern name of the city. I'm a bit less forgiving with the fact that Pataki refers to the Imperial family's residence at Ischl as the Kaiservilla. The Kaiservilla did not exist in 1853 (as we know it today, at least). They had rented the palace to spent the weekend, but it only became their property when Archduchess Sophie bought it for her son and daughter-in-law in 1854 as a wedding present.

In Pataki's novel, the weekend at Ischl is a restrictive formal gathering, in which the girls are told to drop their nicknames, court rituals are heavily guarded, and ministers and ambassadors are even invited. In reality this was a family meeting that allowed the emperor to meet his cousins in a relaxed environment away from court. I believe that what Pataki wanted to do was to give her protagonist and the audience a sort of "sneak-peak" at what life in Vienna was going to be for Sisi, which for me ended up backfiring, but I'll write more on this later. Unlike the real Elisabeth, her book version is very confident and witty, and quickly gains everyone's sympathy, outshining her shy sister, who is going through the trenches. The emperor, of course, is the first in being enchanted by the young duchess.

This is a romance novel, so of course Sisi and Franz get a lot of scenes together. While I'm incapable of shipping Elisabeth and FJ, I will say that I don't think their scenes were bad. They hit if off right away, have an unofficial date at the stables, go out riding and have a heart-to-heart conversation while they rest by a river (so kinda the same thing that happened in Sisi 2021 without the rebel attack scene). The problem of writing Sisi and Franz's meet-cute is that the only thing that happened is that he saw her and fell for her. That's it. So writers always must get creative and make them interact somehow because otherwise there isn't any story to tell, and I'll give this to Pataki: she made them interact enough so them falling in love didn't feel like it came out of nowhere (although in reality it did). I'm a slow burn girlie so this kind of romance isn't my cup of tea, but for this story it works.

Also during Sisi and FJ's "date" her education comes out in the conversation and we have this interesting piece of alternative history:

You know I complain a lot about this but I get that the myth of Duke Max being a dotting father (especially with Elisabeth) is so prevalent in pop history that it will keep popping out in media; now the idea that he had progressive ideas about women's rights is definitely a first. I can not stress enough on how ridiculous this is, this man treated his wife like crap and completely neglected his children; if he had a final say on the kid's education wasn't out of personal interest but simply because he was the head of his family. Also Elisabeth had the usual education a royal girl, and in fact she learned less subjects than her brothers. So no, there was nothing progressive about her education.

By this point we reached the moment in which Sisi realizes that she has fallen for "her sister's fiance". And we also reached the end of my patience. This novel ends with the 1867 Hungarian coronation, meaning that about fourteen years were going to be covered. And yet we were past the first hundred pages (of a four hundred pages book) and still in August 1853. This part is ridiculously long and yet it lacks of absolutely any sort of tension. You can not drag for over a hundred pages the whole "oh no I love Franz but he must marry Helene! What will happen now!" because WE KNOW what will happen. It is literally IN THE TITLE OF THE BOOK. THE SYNOPSIS SAYS IT TOO. The prologue is flashforward of the Hungarian coronation. We know Sisi and Franz are going to get married!! Why are you wasting so much time on this!!!

The first Sissi movie solves the problem of us already knowing the end by adding the tension of Elisabeth being horrified over the prospect of becoming empress and begging Sophie to not let her marry Franz Josef. In turn, Sisi (2021) and Die Kaiserin add the tension of Helene being angry/heartbroken over the emperor not choosing her. The Accidental Empress does neither: Helene does not want to marry FJ and pushes her younger sister into his arms, Sisi is more than happy to marry Franz and readily accepts him when he proposes. The only source of tension is that Sophie is really mad at her because *checks notes* the rules say that the elder sister must marry first??

Yeah that's the sole reason for Sophie turning evil. She is delighted with Sisi for the great part of the weekend, and even laments that her son has to marry Helene instead of her at one point. But then the moment she notices that FJ does want to marry Sisi... she just turn on her niece and starts treating her horribly?? Because she isn't the eldest??? Can someone please tell Pataki that although the eldest daughter tended to marry first there wasn't any actual law that dictated that all daughters must marry in order of birth.

Part one ends with a very angry Sophie telling Sisi that she will marry the emperor, and this absolutely demential dialogue takes place:

First what, why would anyone think that? There was nothing in Pataki's novel that could led people to have that suspicion, the times they met alone was outdoors. Second, that's not how it works, nullifying a marriage was extremely hard, specially for a catholic monarch. If it was consummated there was practically no going back, you were stuck together forever. And that's not even considering how taboo annulments were in the first place, no one wanted to go through one if they could avoid it.

Overall I found this part dull and uninteresting, since the romance wasn't one that I could enjoy, and already knowing the history meant that I was annoyed both by the inaccuracies as well as the complete lack of tension. By the end I just wanted it to be over already so we could get to the actually interesting events of the young empress' life.

(By the way we still have horribly forced expository dialogues:

"What the archduchess is speaking about is-" STOP IT STOP LITERALLY EXPLAINING EVERYTHING THE CHARACTERS SAY. The Crimean War isn't even properly covered in the novel anyways why did we needed this exposition?)

#i had a list of plot-irrelevant historical inaccuracies that annoyed me like in the previous reading blog but at the end I deleted it #this is already too long jfjfk #the accidental empress #author: allison pataki #reading blog

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multific · 4 years

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Solve a Murder

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: You were desperate. You needed help and so, you turned to the one man in London who would be able to help.

“Mr. Holmes, I’m here to hire you to solve a murder.”

“And who’s murder would that be?”

“Mine.”

“Pardon?” asked Dr. Watson.

“It’s my step-sister. I suspect she and her husband want me dead. You see, I inherited my father’s land when she thought she would be the one to get it. And now, just the way she looks at me. She offers me drinks, way too often, I suspect she is trying to poison me. I fear for my life, and lately I haven’t been feeling well. You need to help me. Find evidence that she is plotting my death so I can go to the police.”

The two men looked at each other.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” you said as you stood up, they made you feel like you were a fool, but then the Doctor spoke up making you look back at him.

“How long have you been suspecting that she is trying to poison you?”

“About a month. My dad died five months ago, I lost my mum when I was little, so he married another woman who gave him my step sister. My step mum died two years ago, or rather disappeared. Dad left everything to me in his will. And my sister was fuming, saying that she was the one to deserve it. Back that I was so sad, I didn’t even realize she said that. During the four months I was grieving, but then I started to notice things.”

“Things like?”

“Her servants bringing me food and tea, which is a nice gesture but...it’s usually after I already ate. And then I started to get sick a lot more often. I’m not one to fall sick easily. The doctor said it was just a cold, but...I know she did something. The look on her face said it all. She looked happy when I was in bed for a week. I tried asking for help, but everyone thinks I’m paranoid.”

“I believe you.” said Watson as he looked back at Sherlock who only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s clearly only the mind of a woman, making up scenarios. Why are you really here? You are wasting my time.” his words were harsh. And they hurt. Just as the nice Doctor turned to scold his friend, you spoke up, tear running down your face.

“I hope Mr. Holmes, that you will visit my grave one day. I just wish to see your face when you realize that you were wrong.” you said as you stormed out of the house.

You felt so silly. And to think that you were extremely nervous when you decided to seek for his help. You didn’t even realize that you left your scarf at the house.

***

You were truly helpless, you didn’t have any friends to talk to, your maids were fired by her, leaving only her trusted ones behind. You were trapped in your own house.

And you didn’t have evidence to go to the police either. Although you looked everywhere in the house for signs. But you were unable to find anything, no bottles, no poison, nothing.

The worst however was that you were gradually falling more ill, day after day.

It felt like you were dying from the inside. So, you called the doctor over.

The doctor said that your illness was due to the loss of your father. The doctor blamed depression, but you knew it wasn’t that. Not with the way your sister was smirking and smiling when she thought you weren’t watching.

One day, you felt so terrible, you couldn’t even get out of the bed.

And from that day on, you didn’t.

You were so ill, the sun hurt your eyes and you felt useless. You just laid in bed, you weren’t even sure for how long.

You had barely any appetite. And you wondered how many days have passed.

***

“Miss Y/L/N, two gentlemen are here to talk to you. They said they brought your scarf back.” one of the maid’s said before they left, leaving the door open to let the two men in. You tried to sit up, look at least presentable, but you were too weak.

“Miss Y/L/N,” you recognized that voice, that calm and kind voice.

“Dr. Watson,” you said smiling at the man, not noticing that Sherlock was also in the room.

“You left your scarf. Don’t get me wrong, My Lady, but you look very ill.” said the doctor as he placed the cloth by your hand. You grabbed it and thanked him.

“The doctor was just here, yesterday I think. Said it’s only depression.” you said letting out a long sigh.

“That’s ridiculous. I saw people looking more heathy on their death bed. May I examine you?” you gave him a weak nod, then you turned to Sherlock who was standing on the other side of your bed.

“Will you take my case now, or in a few days when I’m gone?” you asked looking at Sherlock. His eyes met yours.

***

Dr. Watson determined that you needed immediate care in a hospital. Although your sister argued with him, telling him that you already are in the care of a doctor.

That day, Sherlock took your case. He clearly noticed something which he didn’t’t share at the time.

You were in the hospital for three days, and you already felt better. Every day Dr Watson would come over to talk about the case or ask questions. Although you were sure Sherlock was already close to finding evidence.

***

One day, you were finally better, so you could walk around a little. You were sitting outside, reading a book under a tree when you noticed Mr Holmes making his way over to you.

“It was the food and the water and the tea and the cookies and everything.” said Sherlock as he sat down beside you. “You were poisoned gradually, small portions on everything you ate, and drank. The maid did it, because your sister ordered her to. Both are in custody as we speak for attempted murder.” he said, but even with your suspicions being right, you didn’t feel better.

“Thank you Mr. Holmes. I will pay you as soon as I get out of here.” you said before turning to look up the tree, watching a little bird hop from one branch to the other.

“Hmm.” you didn’t notice the look Sherlock gave you. But he noticed just how much livelier you looked. Your eyes shined, your skin shimmered in the light. You looked a lot better. “So, as I observed, you are not married. Neither am I.” he said.

You had to admit this was the worst possible way someone tried to court you. You looked at him, eyes wide.

“Pardon?”

“I’m saying that I find you quite beautiful and I would like to know you better.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?”

“Don’t get me wrong Mr. Holmes, I appreciate the compliment, it’s just... Your timing, Sir. I am still in hospital because my sister tried to poison me, my brother-in-law is still out there, possibly stealing everything that he can move from my home. And you are...handsome.”

“Then, I will be back with the same proposition in a few weeks. Ms Y/L/N.” he said as he stood up and left.

You laughed a little, thinking that he was joking.

After all, what could a man like him possibly want from you?

***

It had been almost a month since you left the hospital.

You were half right about your brother-in-law. He did steal a couple of items when he left, but luckily they didn’t mean anything to you, so you were just happy that he was gone.

You hired new staff and fired everyone. You were not sure who you could trust.

You also made sure that every food and drink was thrown out or went down the sink. You were not taking any chances.

The fact that you only had 2 members of staff made you do some work you were not used to. You were no brat and you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty, so you helped with the cleaning where you could.

You were working in the kitchen, cleaning the cupboards when a voice behind you made you startled. You nearly fell off the furniture as you were cleaning the very top shelves.

“Miss, Mr. Holmes is here.”

“Thank you, Tina! Let him in, please.”

“He is here, Miss.”

This is when you finally turned around and noticed the man smiling up at you. Tina already left to get back to her duties.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Y/L/N. I must admit, every time we meet I can see a different side of yours. I have never seen a lady on the sink, cleaning the shelves.”

“Well, someone has to do it.” you said slowly climbing down. Sherlock helped you, making sure you won’t fall. “I assume you came for your payment. Give me a moment. I put it in an envelope in the library.”

You said washing your hands before heading into the library. You pulled the drawer of your father’s desk out and pulled the envelope out.

“For your speedy resolution, and for Dr. Watson’s help regarding my health, I added a bit extra. Thank you very much.” you said handing him the payment.

“I actually didn’t come for the payment, Ms. Y/L/N.” he said but you watched as he reached out to take the payment from you and slipped in into his pocket. “I’m here to keep my word. What I said in the hospital, I wish to get to know you better. You seem like a very interesting and smart woman. You realized that your sister was bad, even when everyone, including me, thought that you were delusional. I apologize for that.” you honestly didn’t know what to say. You thought he was a man who wouldn’t see you in a romantic matter. But then again, he just mentioned getting to know you.

“Maybe, you can stay over for lunch? I will cook up something nice.”

“You?”

“Yes, I am yet to hire a new cook, and in the meantime I do the cooking, my old nanny taught me a few recipes.”

“Sounds nice.”

And so, he stayed for lunch, dinner and the next day he came over again and every single day after.

He was charming, and the two of you could speak for hours about everything and anything.

Before you knew it, months, and years passed.

You certainly didn’t think that when you decided to go to Baker Street 221B to ask for help, you would find your future husband.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastian crunch-time-sports pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd thisismysecrethappyplace sincerelyfan theoneanna aestheticsandmarvel rororo06 castellandiangelo avengers-r-us destynelseclipsacastellandiangelo spilledinkindumpster celebsimagines capsiclesdoll firstangeldragonranch snoopy3000 firstangeldragonranch puknow crazzyter alwayshave-faith soleil-dor alex12948 scream-kiwi79

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes imagines #henry cavill sherlock holmes #cavill sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader #henry cavill sherlock holmes imagine #henry cavill sherlock holmes imagines #enola holmes imagine #henry cavill characters #henry cavill characters x reader

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ayoitspatricia · 2 years

Note

OMGMGMTMGM OK ILL COME OFF ANON SOOOO

pam and Gwen are 😩😩😩😩

Buuuut mick and Pam are so cute so I won’t request pam 😜

CAAAAN I REQUEST SOMETHING FOR GWEN X READER

idk what 😭😭 just anything lol

First time meeting

(Gwen West x fem!reader)

Omg yay a Gavin and Stacey request! We really do need more Gwen appreciation 😩

“I’ll see you next week Aunt Doris!” You shout as you put on your coat and open the door of her house, walking out into the fresh air. You had just recently moved to Barry Island and had visited your aunt to surprise her.

As you walked out on to the street you bumped into who you were guessing was the lovely next door neighbour Doris had been gushing to you about.

“Oh! I am ever so sorry love, are you alright?” The women asked, patting your arm in comfort.

“Yes no need to be worried, things like this happen.” You smiled at her as she looked behind you noticing whose house you just exited.

“Do you know Doris?” She was polite, her tone showing nothing other than kindness and curiosity. “I don’t mean to sound strange, I’m Gwen, her neighbour.”

You knew that she must have known Doris quite well so you casually replied with, “Yeah, I am y/n. Doris is my aunt.”

Her smile grew, “Really? Well, I am rather shocked at that truth be told, I never knew that she had a sister.”

You laughed, “My mother is her younger sister, sibling relationships can be complicated. Do you have any siblings?”

“I do not actually. Although I have the uncle of my children, Bryn, who I’d say is the closest I’ve got to one.”

“Aw, I would have liked to have a close bond with someone like that.”

At this point you both were just having a long chat in the middle of the street. Gwen was sweet and easy to talk to.

“Well, there is no point just standing out in the cold all day! Would you like to come in?” She asks, with a small glint of hope in her eyes.

“Oh well I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude.” You reply, feeling slightly nervous.

“You would not be at all, please I insist!” She grabs your hand and leads you to the door of her house. She opens it and leads you in.

As you walk in she points and says, “Now the sofa is over there, would you like me to get you a drink? An omelette if you’re hungry?”

“Tea would be great please, of course that is if it is no trouble obviously.”

“Of course not!” You go and sit down on the sofa, watching Gwen make your tea in the distance.

When done she walks towards you and hands you the mug, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” You blushed as she comes and sits next to you.

You take a sip of your tea and then continue your chat with her.

After a while of talking and many cups of tea you look at her, “So, earlier you mentioned that you have a brother in law?” You felt slightly disappointed but happy that she had found a partner. A compassionate person like her deserves to have a nice life.

“Yes but my husband passed away when my children were younger.” You immediately felt bad for her, but also touched that she felt like she could share this with you since you had just met the same day.

“Oh dear, I am so sorry.” You placed a hand on her back. “Lots of people probably say that to you, but I really do mean it.”

“Thank you love, that is so kind of you.” She grabbed your hand and held it with hers.

“I understand that this may feel inappropriate to you since we just met today so do feel free to turn down the offer. Would you maybe be interested in having dinner one night so we could get to know each other more?”

“I would like that very much. That is if you definitely would want to do it.”

She laughed, “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.” This makes you turn slightly red in embarrassment.

You were ever so glad that you decided to move to Barry Island.

#x reader #y/n #reader insert #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x female!reader #fluff #gavin and stacey #gavin and stacey x reader #gwen west

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

Note

Oh I love your pregnancy hc's with Lady Dimitrescu, and was wondering if you could do something like that for Donna? As long as it's no trouble, thank you! <3

Broken Truth: A Pregnancy Headcanon for Donna? Okay - this will be more dramatic since Miranda is Donna's Adoptive Mother. Let the words weave together.

[How They Found Out]

When Donna didn't come downstairs for her morning tea and breakfast, [Y/N] knew there was something wrong with his wife.

This was the third day in a row Donna didn't come down at her regular time and [Y/N] followed his rule of 3: When something doesn't right 3 days in a row, it's time to counsel a professional.

The Lord of Beneviento Manor went down to the village and requested the services of a Female Doctor - there was no way in hell he was going to let some stupid-man thing run his filthy fingers on his wife's delicate skin.

He was actually the only male who admitted that men can be the stupidest creatures on Earth - that's why Alcina loves him as her brother-in-law. Her words: "Finally, A Man-Thing that sees his kinds are morons! You are now my favorite brother-in-law!"

When he returned with the doctor, he gave him some space and waited outside the room until they were done speaking before being called back in the room.

When he asked what was wrong with his wife - it was revealed that she was sharing her body with another organism other than the Cadou.

Donna was pregnant!

The Lord of Beneviento began to hop around with a large smile on his face, expressing his happiness of being a father.

Donna was surprised at his reaction - she was certain that he was going to tell her to get rid of it but it was clear he was looking forward to the baby just as she was.

Angie was happy as well - she was going to be a big sister!

[When They Informed The Others]

When the next Lords' Meeting rolled around, Donna walked with her arm laced in her husband's as he helped her get to her seat with Angie on his shoulder.

When it was time for House Beneviento to tell them any important news - The Married Lord cleared his throat and smiled as he held his nervous wife's hand.

"We have nothing to report in regards to the Cadou or Tests but there is some incredible news we could like to share. House Beneviento is expecting an heir - Donna is pregnant." The man smiled.

There was a brief moment of silence before [Y/N] was yanked off his feet when Lady Dimitrescu grabbed the collar of his shirt and began to shake him like a ragdoll with one hand while her claws were out in the other.

"HOW DARE YOU IMPREGNATE MY SISTER WITH YOUR FILTHY SEED, YOU STUPID MAN-THING?! DID YOU FORCE YOURSELF ON HER?! ANSWER ME BEFORE I SLICE YOU TO RIBBONS!!!" Alcina demanded as she shook him more.

"No! I would never force myself on the woman I love, Alcina! Please forgive me but I love her and we both wanted the baby!" He said through the dizziness.

"Alright." She dropped him, "Make one wrong move and I will skin you alive." She warned him, "Oh, and congratulations."

"Well, that's unexpected!" Karl said as he looked at Donna and her husband as he picked himself off the ground, "Congratz, both of you."

"I'm happy to hear that, Donna!" Sal said with as big as a smile he could make.

Donna opened her mouth to speak when the Golden Mask of her Adoptive Mother was in her direct line of sight and she went silent as everyone else did.

"You are with child?" She asked.

"Y...Yes, Mother Miranda." Donna squeaked.

"When did you find out? How far along are you?" She questioned.

"I'm a month along now..." Donna asked.

"A Month?!" Miranda yelled causing the Dollmaker to flinch, "You became pregnant a month ago and failed to inform me the moment you found out?! What kind of daughter fails to tell her mother something is important?!" Miranda yelled at Donna.

"That's enough, Miranda." The man said as he stood between the two of them and glared into the woman's blue eyes with his own.

"Get out of my way, Mortal. This is between me and my daughter." Miranda hissed at him.

"Your daughter is my wife, Mother-In-Law; I shall do whatever I have to do to make sure she is alright." He said before exhaling, "She didn't tell you because she was unsure of your response so I asked her to wait until the next Lord Meeting to tell everyone." [Y/N] turned to Donna and helped her up as Angie jumped on his shoulder & the three of them took their leave.

[As The Months Passed]

The bigger Donna's belly got - the more protective [Y/N] got over his wife.

It got so bad that he purchased walkie-talkies for Donna so that she could call him whenever she needed something and he would bring it to her without question.

He would bring her tea or treat, sometimes even rub her feet when she complained her feet were aching. He would do it all for his wife with a smile on his face.

He would cook whatever she asked - no matter how strange it was.

It was only a matter of time until the other 3 Lords started coming around with gifts for the new heir.

Karl made a new crib with the crest of House Beneviento engraved on the headboard.

Salvatore made a carousel out of the seashell he found in his domain.

Alcina came with stuffed bears in the shape of dragons - most likely, she got them from the Duke.

Then...There was Mother Miranda.

She would come at least 3 days out of a week and question the two of them about the pregnancy, making sure Donna ate enough food, drunk enough water.

Her reason: "I need to make sure my baby is brought into his world healthy."

[Y/N] really hated it when she said 'her baby' as if she was the one going through the hell of carrying a baby in her stomach for nine months.

But - even the strongest pipe has a limit until it bursts.

One day - [Y/N] was cleaning the table while Donna was taking a shower before bed. He had just finished sweeping the floor when there was a knock at the door.

'Who could be here at this hour?' he asked himself.

He opened the door and his eyes almost narrowed when he saw it was Miranda on the other side of the door.

"Mother-In-Law, what are you doing here at this hour?" He asked.

"I need to speak with Donna. Where is she?" Miranda asked as she pushed the man aside to get inside the house.

"Donna is taking a shower - she said she was tired and wanted to get some sleep." He explained as he closed the door.

"A shower this early?" Miranda questioned, "Is the water too hot? Is she using organic body soap?"

"What does it matter how Donna takes her showers?" He asked.

"Because I don't want my baby exposed to..."She was cut off.

"For the love of Blood Diamonds! That is NOT YOUR BABY!" The father snapped, "That baby belongs to Donna and I! We are the ones who made that baby, not you! But you keep coming around talking about 'my baby' this & 'my baby' that when you don't have a baby!" He yelled at her with blazing [E/C] eyes.

The Village Leader just stood there - frozen.

"Get this through your head right now - This is Donna's Baby. This is my baby. This is not your child nor is it your next experiment. Now, leave." He growled at her.

The village leader blinked at him before walking out of the door.

She didn't return.

[During The Birth]

"Let me through!" Miranda yelled as she tried to get past [Y/N] - who blocked the way into the room where Donna was giving birth.

The moment Donna's water broke - [Y/N] called Alcina who happened to have a maid who was also a midwife.

Mirada also knew how to deliver a baby but [Y/N] didn't trust her around Donna, let alone their baby.

The 2 Male Lords got there just in time to see the Lord of House Beneviento push Miranda away from the door just as the sound of a baby's wails filled the air but...it sounds duplicated.

The door opened and Alcina smiled at the new father.

"You have twins, Brother - A Healthy Boy & Girl." She smiled as she let the father into the room and watched as the midwife cleaned the blood from his children's bodies while he checked on his wife - she was tired but alright.

Soon, the babies were brought to the parents - Donna took her daughter into her arms while [Y/N] took his son into his own. The parents smiled at the babies until the question was asked.

"What shall you name them?" Karl asked as he removed his glasses to get a better look at the children.

"Our daughter shall be named Stella Beneviento - My Little Star." Donna said as she cuddled with her daughter

"And our son shall be named Dante Beneviento - My Everlasting Prince." [Y/N] said as he smiled down at his sleeping son.

[End]

#resident evil 8 #donna beneviento x male reader

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bellakitse · 3 years

Text

The 'B' Word

Carlos and TK run into Carlos’ three sisters on the street and decide to have dinner with them. Over the course of the meal, their friends with benefits relationship changes.

Written for @911lonestarweek - Day 1: Romance/“You are the only one for me.”/Fluff

Carlos holds the door for TK to walk through, trying to keep his grin at bay in the face of TK’s epic pout. He’d suggested a night of putt-putt, thinking it would be a friendly and easygoing activity they could enjoy as they try to put more emphasis on the friends part of their unconventional relationship. It was supposed to be a casual night out. However, Carlos didn’t anticipate that TK would be horrible at the game or be such a lovable sore loser.

“You cheated,” TK accuses him, the scowl on his handsome face cuter than it has any right to be. Carlos swallows back a sigh at the thought. It’s moments like this that show him how truly head over heels he is for the man before him.

He pushes that thought down too.

TK has made it more than clear he’s not ready for more than what they are right now – friends who enjoy each other’s company in and out of the bedroom.

He tells himself how he always does when these thoughts start to creep in that it’s enough for now. He gets to spend time with TK; he gets to touch him, hear the soft sounds he makes when they’re together, he gets his smiles.

So what if they don’t have a label?

Having some parts of TK Strand, Carlos has quickly learned, is infinitely better than not having him at all.

“At putt-putt?” he questions with an amused grin pushing away his less than pleasant thoughts. “You think I cheated at putt-putt?”

“Yes,” TK shoots back, his expression set in a childish frown, causing Carlos’ grin to grow.

“How exactly?” he questions, outright smirking when TK stalls, his pout growing as he can’t come up with anything.

“You distracted me with your you-ness,” TK finally answers, waving a hand in his direction as if it explains everything.

Carlos feels his face go warm, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling incredibly smug too. He reaches out, slipping a finger through one of the loops of TK’s jeans, pleased when TK comes into his space easily, his arms going around Carlos’ neck as he holds him close.

“That’s an interesting way to say you think I’m hot, sweetheart,” he murmurs teasingly as he presses his nose against TK’s temple.

“You already know I think that,” TK scoffs at him, turning his head to kiss the corner of his mouth, his tongue peeking out in a tiny teasing lick. “Don’t pretend now.”

Carlos lets out a steadying breath as his body instantly reacts to TK’s goading. “I still like to hear it,” he answers with a playful pout of his own, happy when it makes TK chuckle.

TK brings his hands down, cupping Carlos’ face between them, using the leverage to close the tiny height difference between them as he brushes his lips against his. “Needy,” he whispers, the word spoken against Carlos’ mouth causing him to let out a moan, proving TK’s point.

“Let’s go back to my place,” he whispers back, his hands giving TK’s hips a suggestive squeeze.

TK laughs softly as he shakes his head. “You promised me dinner.”

“I’ll make us something when we get there,” he promises now, groaning when TK shakes his head again.

“You and I both know – if we get behind closed doors, we’re not eating anything but each other, Reyes,” TK tells him, smirking shamelessly when he gasps at his words. “I want real food first.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, willing down the blush on his face and the arousal coursing through him at the mental image TK’s words have provoked.

TK goes to take a step away from him, ready to start walking on their quest to find some food, but Carlos holds on to him, grinning back at him when it makes TK raise a brow in question. He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he cups TK’s face like he’d done to him, swallowing the small gasp he lets out with his lips.

He kisses TK thoroughly, taking his time as he feels TK’s body go lax against his, kissing him back lazily, pressing his tongue against the back of Carlos’ teeth in a way that makes his toes curl from the butterflies he feels in his stomach.

Carlos could get lost in the act of kissing TK Strand and often does, like now, which is probably why he doesn’t realize people have walked up to them until there is a loud and obvious clearing of someone’s throat startling the two of them.

“What – “ TK starts to say, sounding dazed, and Carlos would take a moment to be proud of that if it wasn’t for the horror he’s experiencing in the face of his three older sisters standing before them, grinning like deranged clowns.

“Well, well, well,” Lola starts, like the rabble-rouser she is, her grin looking painful from how big it is. “Look who we have here being all indecent in public? Isn’t there laws against practically having sex in public spaces, Officer Reyes?”

“Would he have to arrest himself?” Valentina asks ironically – the oldest but by no means the most mature – piling on with a smirk of her own.

Sofía, the second oldest and usually the quietest, smiles softly at him, almost sympathetic if it wasn’t for the laughing glint in her eyes. “How much do you wish the ground would swallow you up right now, manito?”

“Very much so,” he grits out with a tight smile as their enjoyment of the situation grows. He feels TK’s body shift next to him a second before his hand touches Carlos’, linking their pinkies together. He turns his head, surprised at the gesture, and finds TK looking a little lost but supportive of him. It loosens something in his stomach, and as TK gives him a half-smile, Carlos is helpless but to return it. “TK, these are my sisters, Valentina, Sofía, and Lola,” he says, pointing at each of them in turn, getting a wave back from all three. “Girls, this is TK,” he continues, not adding anything else though he can see the curiosity in his sisters’ eyes. “Anyway, we were going to go grab a bite to eat, so – “

“What a coincidence, so are we!” Lola exclaims happily, her brown eyes twinkling, and Carlos shakes his head, already seeing where she’s going with this.

“We should all get a bite together,” Valetina continues, and Carlos has to stifle the groan that is dying to come out at the tag-teaming happening before him.

“We barely get to see you, hermanito,” Sofía adds on with a sad face that fools no one.

“We saw each other two weeks ago at Mami’s for Sunday lunch,” he points out, rolling his eyes when the three of them shrug their shoulders in unison.

“Way too long, bro,” Lola answers, getting a nod from their other two sisters. “And we’re obviously not sharing enough if none of us knew you have a boyfri – “

“Okay!” Carlos interrupts before she can finish the dreaded ‘B’ word. The last thing he needs is his meddling sisters spooking TK with that title. He looks at him with an apologetic look on his face, hoping he understands. “Do you mind if they join us?”

TK looks at him for a moment and then at his sisters, a sly grin making its way onto his face that fills Carlos with dread. “That depends,” he starts, raising an eyebrow at the girls. “How many ‘baby Carlos’ stories can I get out of this meal?”

Carlos lets out that groan he’s been holding back as his older sisters all smile at TK like he’s a new shiny toy.

Being the boldest one of his sisters, Lola steps towards TK, slipping her arm through his. “All the stories you want, my dude. Let’s start with the one where Carlos would play Selena’s ‘bidi bidi bom bom’ on repeat and do her spins in the living room until one time he almost threw up on the carpet from twirling so much,” she recounts, throwing a grin at him over her shoulder as she and TK start walking ahead.

Carlos closes his eyes for a moment, opening them again when he hears snickering at his side. He glares at Valentina and Sofía and their matching grins.

“We better catch up to them before she tells him that you can’t get through a single Disney or Pixar movie without crying like a baby, and that’s why you don’t watch them in the theater anymore,” Valentina warns him, laughing at him when his eyes widen.

He doesn’t move for a moment, letting them pass before him. TK throws a look back at him, half-worried but also gleeful as Lola says God only knows what in his ear, and Carlos can’t help the mixture of apprehension and tentative joy he feels at his worlds colliding.

“Keep up, manito, before we steal your boy away,” Lola shouts out, already crossing the street with TK still wrapped around her arm.

“Shit,” Carlos swears low before rushing to catch up.

֎֎֎

They end up at some hipster tapas restaurant. It’s not his usual style, but his sisters and TK seem to like it as they all pick from the multiple small plates at their large table. The girls each have a wine glass in their hands and blessedly don’t blink an eye when TK says he doesn’t drink and orders an ice tea.

He sits next to TK, with his sisters on the other side of the table, watching the two of them like they’re putting on a show for their enjoyment. He glares at them, hoping they’ll cut it out, but they seem to just find his scowls enjoyable – ignoring him in favor of focusing on TK.

“So TK, how did you and our little brother meet?” Valentina asks, starting off the inquisition.

TK pauses mid-reach for the papas bravas at her question before grabbing the dish and scooping some onto his plate for him, giving him a smile when he says thank you. “Um, we met on a call,” he starts to say, taking the plate of garlic shrimp he offers him in return. “I’m a firefighter; we were answering a call to a car accident, and Carlos was the leading officer on the scene.”

“Ohh, a firefighter, nice,” Lola says, throwing him a teasing look. Carlos is grateful for it as it makes TK laugh, and he misses the pointed look his other sisters give him at the way he and TK interact so easily.

He knows they are dying to ask.

“How did you snag such a hottie, Carlitos?” Lola continues, turning her teasing towards him.

Carlos rolls his eyes; used to his sister’s good-natured ribbing, he opens his mouth to mess with her, only for TK to let out a snort.

“Well, first, look at him,” TK answers for him, turning to look at him with a teasing but soft look of his own, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “He’s gorgeous.”

Carlos feels his heart jump at the easy way TK compliments him, not shy in the least as it makes his sisters share another round of looks that this time TK catches.

“It seems to be a family trait. You’re all very beautiful,” he says to them with a charming smile that has Carlos groaning and laughing at once as it totally works on all three of them.

“Don’t butter them up,” he complains as he sees the twinkle in all their eyes. “They’re already insufferable all on their own. If you hype them up, they’ll just be impossible.”

“It’s not hype if it’s true,” Sofía says with a flick of her curly hair, getting a nod from Valentina and Lola.

“That’s right, wey,” Valentina continues, grinning at the face he makes at them. “Listen to your boyfriend; we’re beautiful.”

Carlos freezes at the word boyfriend, but TK just laughs with the girls, moving the conversation along as he asks more about Carlos’ childhood. He leans in, listening intently as the girls share embarrassing but honestly sweet stories about him. Each looking at him with the great love he knows they feel for him.

TK hangs on to every word, smiling softly over at him every few minutes as he files away information – like his love for anything custard and his intense fear of cicadas.

“One time when I was 15, this kid in the neighborhood was picking on me,” Valentina tells the story, sharing smiles with Lola and Sofía as they start to chuckle, remembering the moment.

“We were all playing outside, and he came over and started making fun of my glasses or clothes. I don’t even remember, but I was on the verge of tears when Carlos, who had been playing with his action figures on the porch, comes running and kicks him as hard as he can on the shins, surprising the kid. He tripped, and Carlos jumped on him, hitting him with his tiny fists, screaming at him not to be mean to his sister,” Valentina pauses, looking over at him fondly. “I’m eight years older than Carlos, he was only seven at the time, but he was still protecting me.”

“Awww,” TK gushes, looking over at him with a tender glint in his pretty green eyes. “That’s so sweet and so in character.”

Carlos feels himself blush at the focus of everyone around the table, fidgeting as they all grin at him. “I protect the people I care about,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“I know,” TK answers softly, reaching out to take his hand. “Trust me, I know.”

Carlos stares at TK feeling a shift in the air, his silly heart giving a flip as hope starts to sneak its way inside it.

“What else?” TK questions, turning back towards his sisters but not letting go of his hand.

The girls share another look between them, and Carlos can only guess what they’re thinking before they jump into more stories.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter and childhood anecdotes, and before Carlos knows it, they’re settling up the bill and walking out of the restaurant. They linger outside for a moment before, one by one, the girls hug TK first, telling him he needs to come to the next Reyes’ lunch and that their mother is going to fall in love with him. TK smiles through it, not making any promises other than checking his schedule with him. He forks over his phone easily when Lola asks to add him to WhatsApp with the promise of baby pictures of him, and Carlos just knows she’ll add TK to a group chat before the end of the night.

They turn to hug him, tight and warm as always, each whispering in his ear how much they like TK and how happy they are that he’s found someone who makes him smile the way he’s smiling. He hugs them back, all the while looking at TK over their shoulders, wondering what’s just happened in the course of the night.

He hails them a cab and reminds them to text him when they each get back to their homes, getting fond rolls of their eyes as they promise before getting into the cab, leaving him and TK alone with this sudden shift in their relationship.

Neither says anything for a moment, each knowing one of them needs to start.

“So,” he begins, biting the bullet. “I guess we should talk about tonight because I don’t know if you realize this, but my sisters just left with the impression we’re in a serious relationship, and that means I will have at least a dozen texts by morning from my mother.”

“Sure,” TK says, nodding quickly, nervous energy pouring out of him. “But first –“

TK takes a step into his space, and then another until his chest is pressed against his, and Carlos instinctively puts his hands on TK’s slim waist seconds before TK covers his mouth with his, in a hungry, almost desperate kiss. Carlos matches his energy, pouring all the love and longing coursing through him, claiming TK’s mouth the same way TK has claimed his heart.

He holds him so close he’s sure TK can feel the way his heart is pounding against his own.

“TK – “ he gasps out, his skin tingling at every point of contact. “What – “

“I’m crazy about you,” TK blurts out, stepping out of his hold to pace. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t see it coming. You were just supposed to be this cool guy I had good chemistry and good sex with, someone I would be friends with and share a bed with on occasion. This was supposed to be simple. But every day, I fall for you a little bit more and more with your kindness, your patience, the way you make me laugh and smile even when I don’t want to.”

He runs a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up, looking adorable even as his eyes have gone wild. “You weren’t the plan. You came into my life when I was at my worst, and for some reason, you still wanted to be around me, offering me the best of you, and I have been trying to ignore it because I thought it was too soon after my break-up or because deep down, I think you deserve better than me.”

“There is no one better than you,” he interrupts, needing TK to understand that once and for all. “You’re not perfect, TK, I know that,” he says, holding up a hand when TK goes to argue. “But there is no one better – you are the only one for me.”

TK lets out a gasp at his words, finally not moving about, coming to a stop, and Carlos takes the chance to touch him again, bringing him in closer as he cups his face, tilting it up to him.

“Your sisters looked at me tonight as someone worthy of you,” he whispers, his eyes going glassy. “I so want to be that. I want to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos smiles, feeling everything inside him melt for the man in his arms. “Oh, baby,” he whispers softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead, his eyelids, cheeks, and the tip of his nose before he brushes his lips against TK’s. He pulls him into a hug when he feels him tremble. “Don’t you get it? You already are.”

“Carlos – “ TK gasps something like a sob into his neck.

He pulls him back, making sure he’s looking at him before he finally says the words he’s been holding in for so long. “I’m in love with you, TK.”

TK lets out a wet laugh, nodding rapidly as he grasps his shoulders. “I’m in love with you too,” he answers, smiling brightly, matching Carlos’ own smile.

The kiss they share is salty from their mixed tears but perfect.

Breaking the kiss, they press their foreheads together, basking in the moment and the change in their relationship. Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever been happier, but after a moment, he finds himself letting out a groan as a realization creeps in.

“What is it?” TK questions him curiously.

“I just realized that if my sisters learn we weren’t official before we ran into them and that dinner with them helped in any way – I’m never going to hear the end of their mocking,” he answers, blinking in surprise when TK lets out a chuckle that quickly turns into a deep belly laugh. It only grows as Carlos pouts at him in return.

“Not even five minutes of being boyfriends, and you’re laughing at my pain,” he says, trying to keep from smiling but being unable to do so at the use of the ‘B’ word and the way TK lights up at it. “You’re lucky I love you.”

TK sobers at his words, the laughter dying out but the loving smile staying in place. “I am so lucky,” he says softly, taking his hand.

Carlos intertwines their fingers, bringing their hand up to his lips, laying a kiss over TK’s knuckles. “I’m lucky too.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #lonestarweekend #lsweekend2021 #tk x carlos #my writing

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

As per our convo, Newt getting set up with Hermann via Hermann’s father’s binder full of pre-approved suitors for his son...

(from @k-sci-janitor 👀) easily one of our funniest concepts yet. I was going to end on newt coming over for dinner scenario but I like the ominous open ending. I'm not actually sure when kaiju attacks fall in the PR timeline so excuse my handwaveyness, LOL

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermann’s relationship with his father is what one would call strenuous at best, but—Hermann must admit, to the man’s credit, and in spite of his many flaws—he took the news of Hermann’s sexual orientation as unflinchingly as if Hermann had told him the day’s weather. It was a bit annoying, in fact. Hermann had agonized over the proper way to breach the subject for months, certain it spoke to some sort of personal ruin (whether ostracization from the Gottliebs or being forbade following through on any attraction he may feel whilst still living under the family roof, he wasn't sure), before finally simply announcing it one day at the breakfast table on a whim.

It had been a long-standing tradition that Hermann’s parents compile a binder—effectively of dossiers—on all the most eligible bachelors (for their daughter) and bachelorettes (for their sons) to aid in the choice of the latest Gottlieb mate. It was easiest this way, or so Hermann and his siblings were told. Parental approval was already secured. The histories of each were already secured, which bypassed any nasty shocks that might emerge in the courtship stage. Most of them were children of his father's colleagues or bright minds in their own rights: surgeons, and dentists, and mathematicians. Poets were strictly forbidden.

The occasion of Hermann’s breakfast table announcement had also been the day Hermann’s father presented him with his very first binder of prospective mates—a few days after his eighteenth birthday, and shortly before he was to go off to begin work on his PhD. His father had slid him a hand-written binder of names, no more than a dozen, and all with accompanying photographs. “All are accomplished young women,” he assured Hermann. “We can arrange any meetings of your choice over your winter holidays.”

Hermann glared down at the row of frozen smiles. He stabbed his fork into his cooked tomato wedge. “I don’t want to marry any of these women,” he said, and turned his glare on his father. He still had a rebellious streak in him at that point, something nurtured by a charismatic young man he used to trail after in boarding school, who pierced Hermann’s ear with a sewing needle in the boys’ toilets and listened to songs about setting things on fire. In late this streak had manifested itself in Hermann in nicking packets of cigarettes from his father’s study, one of which was in his pocket now. The weight of it made Hermann feel bolder. “I don’t want to marry any woman,” he continued. “I like men.”

The binder was drawn away in silence, and Hermann was free to eat his toast and tomatoes. The next morning a binder of young men was in its place.

(In a way the acceptance infuriated Hermann. It meant he could not blame his father’s obvious dislike for him on an unfounded, homophobic prejudice; rather, it was a result of Hermann’s own personal failings.)

The binder was placed at Hermann’s breakfast plate every day until he left for his studies. It was placed at his plate when he returned from them five years later. Not even the emergence of the kaiju from the bottom of the ocean shortly after Hermann turned twenty-four dampened his father’s hopes, nor turning all their scientific efforts towards the new jaeger program: some names were removed from the binder (the reasoning Hermann shudders to think at), more still were added, though Hermann is expected only to consider it once a week now on account of his busy schedule. This was one of such days.

“Your brother is very happy with his wife,” Hermann’s father reminds him. “She was one of my first suggestions for him, in fact.”

Hermann is not fond of his sister-in-law. Too rude—too cold. Though perhaps that makes her perfect for Hermann’s brother. “Haven’t we got bigger things to worry about these days than whether or not I’m going to marry?” Hermann says. He adds milk to his tea. “I’m sure they’re all, er, marvelous selections, only—”

“Your sister, too, with her husband,” father says.

Hermann sighs. He hasn’t got much of the rebellious streak he used to in him anymore—too stressed. Not fancying a fight before they’ve even begun today’s coding work, he picks up the binder and begins flipping through it. Sons of engineers working on the jaeger program with them, prominent young chemists, many of whom Hermann has been presented with since he was eighteen. Plenty of them are even handsome. Half of Hermann wonders if he should just pick the least-unappealing one of the bunch and be done with it already. He turns the page over and freezes. “Oh,” he says. “This one is—new.”

“Hm?” father says.

Hermann holds up the binder, tapping at a new entry. “Newton Geiszler.”

“Dr. Geiszler,” father says, nodding. “A child prodigy from Berlin—he’s made tremendous strides in kaiju science in such little time. And,” he adds, “three PhDs. Two of them before he even turned twenty.” The unspoken implication was that Dr. Geiszler far surpassed Hermann in intelligence and Hermann should feel ashamed for not skipping as many grades as Dr. Geiszler.

Hermann feels he ought to resent Dr. Geiszler for it, but he's finding it difficult to summon up any animosity towards him. It's likely because Hermann finds Dr. Geiszler to be strikingly handsome in his photograph: cheeks which haven’t quite lost their baby fat (giving him the appearance of being a scruffy hamster), large, thick glasses, tousled hair, an easy grin. Three PhDs, and German at that. And a child prodigy? “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned him to me before,” Hermann says. He seems precisely the sort father would. Geiszler’s photograph is black-and-white and a bit grainy, but Hermann swears he could make out the lightest bit of freckles across his cheeks.

“I’d not heard of him until he published an article last week on kaiju biology,” father says. “Besides—he’s moved to America.”

Geiszler has three piercings up the side of his left ear. “I am going to write to him,” Hermann declares.

Father nods, and picks up his newspaper, clearly already disinterested. They speak no more of it that day.

It is not hard to find Dr. Geiszler online (his name is not the most common, and his field of study certainly isn’t), nor is it hard to match his photograph to his faculty page on MIT’s website. From there, Hermann retrieves Dr. Geiszler’s email address. He takes the evening to read over Geiszler’s publications spanning back to 2003 before he gathers up the courage to type out an actual email.

Dear Dr. Geiszler,

You do not know me, but I have recently been made acquaintance with your work and find it—Hermann pauses—scintillating. My father and I are—Hermann backspaces this—I am currently working on the development of the jaeger program…

There’s a response waiting for him the next morning. It’s as enthusiastic as it is brief. Dr. Gottlieb- That’s so awesome!! Believe it or not I’ve been following your work too. I have a million questions for you about the jaegers. If it’s classified info I promise I won’t tell. -Newt

It makes Hermann smile like nothing ever has before.

Hermann’s correspondence with Dr. Geiszler does not transgress beyond the professional until the following January. By that time, Hermann and his father have successfully completed the coding for their first jaeger prototype, and Hermann has been offered his fair share of tenured university positions to pick from as he likes. He finds himself oddly disappointed that none of them are in America with Dr. Geiezler. This, which leads to the realization that he’s grown rather fond of Dr. Geiszler, is perhaps what drives Hermann to uncharacteristic sentimental extremes on January 19th: he orders Dr. Geiszler a birthday present. The first email Dr. Geiszler sends him after that addresses him as Hermann. The first email Hermann sends Dr. Geiszler after that addresses him as Newton. Things move rapidly after that.

“Are you still writing to that young biologist?” Hermann’s father asks him in March. Hermann has spent the last two months devouring every bit of information Newton has seen fit to divulge about his personal life: his dexterity with no less than three different instruments, his favorite loud monster movies, how he’d love to get a kaiju tattooed on him one day. Hermann suspects he might be falling in love with Newton. In hardly five months! These are war times, Hermann supposes, so it would make sense. People are meant to do such extreme things.

“I am,” Hermann says.

“I’ve asked around about him,” Hermann’s father says. His expression is stern—unimpressed. “About his character. I’m not sure it’s wise to continue your correspondence.”

The reasons are this. Dr. Geiszler’s methods are unorthodox. Dr. Geiszler is loud and uncouth, and has little respect for his intellectual superiors. Dr. Geiszler was thrown out of a convention once for storming up on stage and stealing a microphone from an engineer to shout about the destruction coral reefs. Dr. Geiszler was in a distasteful band for several years. Dr. Geiszler was once arrested for egging a politician’s house. Dr. Geiszler has gone on record as describing the kaiju as “kinda cool”. Almost none of this is news to Hermann; in fact, that which is only causes Hermann’s affection for Newton to grow. “I will consider your advice,” Hermann says, knowing he won’t. Besides, it's not as if his father really has Hermann's interests at heart—Hermann knows he merely wishes to preempt any scandal Newton Geiszler could possibly bring upon the Gottlieb name.

In April Newton goes on television and declares that he’s sure the kaiju are extraterrestrial in origin, on account of their great size and his brief examination of a sample from the second kaiju to make landfall. He’s laughed off by his older peers before he can get another word out. The email he writes to Hermann afterwards is furious, capslock-heavy, and expresses that Hermann is the only one who takes him seriously in the whole world. It leaves Hermann certain that he is in love with Newton.

“Dr. Geiszler was interviewed on some American television program,” Hermann’s father says a few days later.

“I know,” Hermann says, proudly. Newton was on television. “I watched it.”

“He made some extraordinary claims,” Hermann’s father says.

But Hermann is thinking only of the outfit Newton wore (skinny jeans and an oversized leather jacket, so out of place compared to the suited other scientists sitting around him), the shade of his eyes (hazel), his short stature (hardly taller than Hermann), and the cadence of his voice (high, but not unappealing). He’d been so confident, and carried himself with a self-assurance that was foreign to Hermann. It was marvelously attractive. “I’m sure they're correct,” Hermann says. "Every single one. Newton is a terribly brilliant scientist." All bold claims are met with derision at first, are they not?

Newton’s theory is proven correct after the next kaiju attack, when experts other than him get their hands on kaiju samples and validate his claims. The general consensus after that is that the kaiju are not of this world. And Newton was the first to propose the theory! Hermann sends Newton an email full of congratulations, and Newton responds with a heart emoticon in his sign-off. Newton isn't just a brilliant scientist. “Newton is a genius,” Hermann tells his father, dreamily.

The binder reappears on Hermann’s work desk a few months later, Newton’s page torn conspicuously from it. Hermann tips the whole thing straight into his trash can. He has more important things to worry about—arranging a meeting with Newton, perhaps. Hermann ought to have him over for dinner.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #the new post editor is weird but I like that I can make things pink

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?”

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Note

hi i have a request! imagine for tommy he picked you up at the bar so he doesn’t know you very well but you guys ~do the nasty~ and later he overhears from your one friend telling lizzie that you faked your orgasm and he hunts you down determined to make you cum for real

HI! thanks so much for this request- I adored writing it!

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT also swearing bc... peaky blinders?

It was the grand opening of the Shelbys’ new bar, and naturally, almost all of Small Heath was crammed into the main room. The whiskey and gin (from Shelby Company Limited, of course) was flowing, and the Swing Band was playing loudly, much to the joy of the inebriated men and women dancing. You hummed to yourself, touching up your lipstick before calling for another round for you and your girlfriends, Ada and Lizzie. “You want another drink, Linda? Maybe just stout?” you asked, getting your coin purse out.

“Don’t bother yourself. I won’t succumb to that temptation. Just tonic water for me,” you rolled your eyes and soon received your drinks. “So you won’t touch gin, but you’ll happily play in the snow, eh?” Ada smirked, winking at you as she sipped her drink. You spluttered into your own.

“Come on, ladies,” you said, sensing the tension growing between sisters-in-law. “Let’s dance before the band starts playing that American rubbish,”

Together, you joined in with the dancing, giggling and cheering each other on. “C’mon Lizzie! Spin me around! I wanna be twirled,” you squealed, and the taller woman happily complied. You were new to the company, and she wanted to make you feel welcome before the boys scared you off. Soon you left the dancefloor, leaving the girls, to get another drink. You arrived at the bar, giggling and breathless, and ordered your favourite drink.

“Miss YLN,” a low voice rumbled next to you as the bartender poured your drink. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met. Been keeping the books, eh? My brother John says you’ve very neat handwriting, and hardly cross any number out,” You nodded as your eyes met Thomas Shelby’s.

“Oh… yes, Mr Shelby,” you murmured. “I try to make them neat so you lot don’t get muddled up,” you said. He nodded. The bartender put your drink in front of you and you reached for your purse. Tommy stopped you and gestured to the bartender that your drink ought to be on the house.

He soon took you into the side room, kicking Finn and Isiah out. “My secretary, Lizzie, recommended you to me,” he said as you perched opposite him. He lit a cigarette, rubbing it along his lip before taking a drag. “And I’ve been trying to figure you out. Couldn’t find anything,”

“I didn’t grow up ‘round here. When my mum died I took her maiden name. Most of her lot were killed. The Somme, I think,”

“And your dad?” he asked, watching you as you drank.

“The bastard died in France too, as far as I know. But I left home after Mum died. That was before the war,”

An hour later, you were still talking, although the pair of you had drained a bottle of whiskey. You were giggly and warm when drunk, but Tommy only closed in more. This didn’t bother you in the slightest. You leaned forward and smirked. “So, Mr Shelby, do I meet your approval, eh?”You were so close to him, and your pupils were dilated with what could only be described as a mixture of inebriation and desire.

“Yes. Yes, you do. C’mere,” he grunted, dragging you into his lap. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his hand already running up your thigh. You groaned and wriggled, sucking his lip into your mouth, grinding your heat onto his tenting trousers. He growled, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers down, and tearing your knickers down. He stood up, bending you over the table, before rutting into you animalistically. You whimpered, crying out, pushing back into him. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and you reached to stroke your pulsing clit- but he grabbed your hand as soon as he saw you moving, pinning you down and shouting out his release. It was a good job the band had started playing a popular song, otherwise, the whole of Birmingham would have heard you.

You panted, expecting him to carry on thrusting to bring you over the edge. Instead, you heard the sound of a belt buckle and the door slamming shut.

The experience sobered you up slightly and you straightened your dress, fixing your lipstick and hair before slipping out of the side room. You bumped into Lizzie and told her you were going home, as you were working in the morning. She nodded and took in your dishevelled (despite your best efforts) appearance. “Get some rest,” she said knowingly, giving you a wink.

The next day, you arrived at work despite your headache. You lit a lamp, as it was still a little dark out, and started on the books, flicking through the notes scribbled by various members of the Shelby clan. You worked in peace for ten minutes before Lizzie and Pol came into the room, chatting.

“There she is. How’s your head?” Lizzie grinned, sliding you some aspirin. You smiled gratefully and took the tablets.

“Holy shit,” Pol commented, staring at the bruise on your throat. You blushed deeply and tugged your collar closed. You hated wearing this blouse buttoned all the way up, but needs must.

“Wild night, eh?” Lizzie asked, getting her own paperwork sorted as Pol went to fix tea.

“Not really,” You sighed, looking down. You wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

“Oh, piss off. You came out of that side room five minutes after Tommy, looking like you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, and you show up to work with a dirty great love bite on your throat,” she grinned. “I’m not judging you, by the way. If anything I’m impressed. He’s been a right prick lately,”

“And he was a right prick last night,” you hissed. “Moody bastard, and a lousy fuck as well. Didn’t even finish me off, I had to fake it in the end,” you glared down at your paperwork. Lizzie chuckled and rubbed your shoulder gently. Polly came back into the room with the cups and teapot, pouring for you all.

“So who’s the man? Boyfriend we haven’t heard of?” She asked, smirking.

“It was Tommy, Pol,” Lizzie explained. You kept your eyes down. “Apparently he’s a lousy fuck. Our poor YN was treated worse than the back alley whores by the sounds of it,”

Prolly frowned and set your tea in front of you. “Wouldn’t think a lousy fuck would leave that mark,” she said slyly. “Use a cold spoon and some powder when you get home,” she advised.

“And then tonight, go dancing and get a man who’ll treat you right, eh?” Said Lizzie. “You deserve better than someone rutting against you like a dog,”

The two women had cheered you up significantly and you smiled weakly until Arthur’s loud voice cut across your conversation.

“Rutting like a dog? Was that what you and Tommy were up to last night?” He grinned, having overheard, and you flushed angrily.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, YN, you are a pretty little thing-” he said, his smile dropping when he saw that his banter wasn’t making you laugh like normal.

“No. I’m not embarrassed. If anything, I’d be embarrassed for your brother. Who would’ve thought Thomas Shelby didn’t know his way around a woman, let alone how to properly please her!” You turned around. “Pol, I’m going home. My head is banging and I need to concentrate on these books. Arthur’s done all the adding up wrong. Dock my pay if need be,” You took the heavy leather-bound book and tucked it under your arm, before storming out of the betting shop, right past Tommy without even noticing.

The peace of your home was what you needed. You brewed yourself a pot of tea with the nice teabags you had picked up from the market, and settled yourself at your rickety old desk, going through the books and copying them up neatly, and more importantly, precisely. You even hummed to yourself, soon letting the stress of the previous night slowly fade away.

That was until there was a sharp knock on your door. You sighed, getting up. There was another knock. “Alright! I’m coming. Rent’s not due for another week, though!” You called, going to take the door off the latch.

There in the doorway, in all his glory, was your boss. His cap was drawn over his face and he blew out a breath of smoke. “YN. Can I come in?”

You wanted nothing more than to slam the door in his face and lock it, put the chain on and drown him out with your rusty gramophone. But-

“Fine. But put that cigarette out before you step over my threshold. The last tenant was a bad smoker and I’ve only just got the smell out of the cushions,” when the door shut, you turned around, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Mr Shelby?”

“Mr Shelby, is it now?” He asked, smirking. “That’s no way to greet a guest, is it. Are you going to offer me a drink?”

“No, I’m not. You don’t take me as one for cold tea with no milk,” you quipped. “What do you want?”

He arched his brow, looking you up and down as if you were a fresh cut from the butcher. You stood a little straighter, determined not to look small. “What I want, YN, is to know what your little fuss was about earlier on,” he said lowly.

You scoffed. “Oh please. You know exactly what it was about, and even if you didn’t, I’m sure the boys would’ve informed you,” you said coldly. “If you must know, I was pissed. Still am. Because I let you… have me. And I’m pissed because you treated me like a common whore, and I’m pissed because everyone knows and will think less of me,” you said, flushing, brow furrowed.

“And what’s all this about being a lousy fuck, eh?” He asked, face like stone.

“Oh you heard that part well enough, didn’t you?” You suppressed an annoyed laugh. “It’s true. You are a lousy fuck. D’you bend all your women over and hump them like a dog in heat or am I just special?”

“YN…,” he said, voice low, standing up and walking to you.

“You know, I’ve had better shags when I was a teenager. At least the lads I used to go out with had the decency to finish me off once their balls were empty!” You ranted, unaware of him stalking closer and closer, like a panther on the prowl.

He pushed you against the wall, arms braced either side of your head. You gulped. Had you pushed him too far? You looked up at him through your lashes, and couldn’t help but lick your lips, your breath already becoming shallow. “Finish you off, eh? Is that what you want?” He asked lowly, leaning to growl in your ear, sending a shiver that crawled all over your skin and made your eyelashes flutter.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Y-yes…” you whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes please, Mr Shelby,”

That was all he needed. He gripped your hips and pulled them tight against his, kissing you ferociously, his hands gripping, squeezing, stroking every inch of you he could reach. You moaned against his mouth and scrabbled at his heavy coat and jacket, pushing them to the floor. You began fumbling with his belt when he grabbed your wrists, holding the, above your head.

“Ah Ah Ah,” he said roughly. “I intend to make up for last night. And believe me, YN, I’m feeling particularly generous tonight,” He hoisted you up by the thighs and held you against him, carrying you to your bedroom and kicking the door shut. He deposited you onto the bed, before looking down at you. “Dress. Off.” He demanded, and you all too eagerly complied, much to his satisfaction, casting it aside, quickly followed by your slip, leaving you in your knickers and bra. He chuckled darkly at your eagerness, and when you went to undo your garter and stockings, he halted your hands, shaking his head. You nodded obediently and watched as he kneeled down in front of you. You pressed your knees together, but he tutted and caressed your legs, from ankle to thigh.

“Don’t be shy, YN,” he murmured.

“No one’s ever…” you whispered, shifting your thighs together. He cocked his brow up and smirked.

“No one’s ever what, pet?” He asked, pushing your thighs apart and making quick work of your stockings. “Tasted you? Not even all those boys who knew how to please you, eh?”

You nodded and bit your lip, gasping at the new sensation of his hot breath skittering across your core as he pressed filthy, open-mouthed kisses against your heat. He nipped the inside of your thighs to get you to spread them further and inhale your musk, shuddering at the scent of your arousal.

“You won’t even remember your own fucking name once I’m through with you, love,” he promised, stroking his finger lazily up the seam of your underwear, pressing it against your clit. You clenched your fists into the sheets, thighs already trembling. This did not go unnoticed, and Tommy chuckled darkly at your desperation. “So responsive,” he murmured, dragging your underwear down torturously slowly, before burying his face between your legs. You whimpered as you felt his tongue running up your slit, gathering your arousal before he swallowed with a groan, gripping your thighs tightly and holding them apart. He traced your sopping folds with the very point of his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your swollen clit, but giving it nowhere near enough attention for your liking.

“Tommy please!” You whimpered after at least ten minutes of him scrubbing the flat of his tongue against your heat, nipping at your thighs, and even pushing his tongue into you. He pulled away and looked up at you with raised eyebrows, your slick glistening obscenely on his chin.

“Please, what, YN? Use your words,” he demanded.

“Please, touch me!” You cried, shifting your hips, trying to get some friction to your needy clit.

“Touch you where YN? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he said smirking cockily, pinning your hips down to still you.

“On my… my… here!” You whimpered, reaching a hand down to flick at your throbbing nub. “Please, Tommy, please!”

He growled and knocked your hand away, instantly attaching his lips to it, sucking like a man starved and flicking his tongue under the hood. You cried out and tipped your head back, gripping whatever handful of hair you could, swearing like a sailor. “Oi. Watch. Eyes on me.” He commanded, although slightly muffled by your writhing hips. You whined softly but nodded, focusing on watching the gorgeous man devouring you. Your eyes fluttered when you felt a familiar tension building up in the pit of your belly, your clit beginning to throb against his tongue. Your breath came in sharp gasps, and you bucked your hips up, desperate to tip over the edge, so close already-

Then… nothing.

You groaned, glaring down at the man before you, who still held all the power despite being on his knees. You whined trying to grab him back. “What the fuck? Please, I was so close!” You said, intending to sound angry, but actually sounding needy and desperate. He grinned.

“I know,” Bastard. He repeated this routine several times, bringing you right up to the edge, but dragging you away at the last moment, until you were practically sobbing with need. When he had taken his fill of your nectar, he worshipped your breasts, sucking and nipping and kissing and lathing his tongue over your nipples until you were writhing, arching your back, convinced you would cum from this stimulation alone.

“Please, Tommy!” You whined, fingers tangled in his cropped hair as he sucked a dark mark on your breast. “Please, Tommy, you’ve proved your point, please!” You sounded pathetic, begging like a whore, but to be quite frank, you could give a bigger fuck if you tried. “Just… please, Tommy, I need you. Need to feel you,” you whispered, stroking his jaw as he resurfaced, his piercing eyes trained on yours. “Need you to fill me up, claim me… I’m yours, Tom. Don’t you want to feel me cumming all over your cock?”

Your words were meant to rile Tommy up, but they made you shift and whimper and buck despite yourself. “Good girl,” he whispered. “I’m very impressed with you. I’m going to fuck you, YN, and I’m going to do it properly,” You nodded eagerly and watched with glazed eyes as he discarded his waistcoat, shirt and trousers. You licked your lips as he dropped his underwear, groaning at the sight of his long, thick cock bouncing free, already leaking.

All for you.

You whimpered as Tommy crawled up the mattress towards you, already spreading your legs for him. “Please,” you whispered, reaching for him. He nodded, slowly pushing himself into you, bracing his elbows either side of your head. You cried out at the stretch of him, arching your back to press into his warm chest. Already, you were digging your nails into his back, and he grunted at the feeling of your walls clenching onto him for dear life.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned into your neck, drawing back almost completely, before driving back into you with slow, measured movements, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked you slowly, yet each thrust was ended with a sharp snap of his hips. You whined out, throbbing around him, trying to meet his thrusts with faster, needier ones of your own.

“More, Tommy, more!” you cried out, scrabbling your nails down his back, clinging to his shoulder blades. You raised your legs to wrap them around his waist, angling your hips up more, eyes rolling at the deeper penetration gained by the new angle. “Please, faster,” you begged, writhing eagerly beneath him. “Please?” you whimpered, practically sobbing with need.

Tommy grunted and nodded, holding you tight to him as he fucked you harder, faster, more relentlessly, growling into your ear, before suckling dark marks down your throat and to your collarbone. Moaning, he pistoned his hips into you, each thrust bumping delicious pressure onto your aching clit. It was too much.

You moaned wantonly, arching your back and biting his shoulder. “Fuck Tommy, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, clinging to him, not wanting him to pull away before your release again.

“Good girl,” he groaned. “Cum around my cock, love, that’s what you want. That’s what I want,” he grunted, his thrusts sloppy and harsh. With his permission, you yelped out, crying his name as you came, seeing white spots, even when you clenched your eyes shut. Feeling you clench around him like a vice, he shouted his release, spurting into you, filling you with his hot cum.

Panting, he pulled out, and for a moment you worried he would buckle up his belt and leave you like a whore again, but the mattress dipped beside you as he lay down. He drew you into his side, holding you close.

“You alright?” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You okay, love?” you nodded, resting your head on his chest, breathing deeply.

“I-I… more than alright,” you murmured, causing him to chuckle. He lit a cigarette and grinned, rubbing your side as you drew the covers around you both.

“So, still think I’m a lousy fuck, eh?” he smirked. You grinned and looked up, reaching to kiss him.

“Not sure,” you said cheekily. “That might have been a fluke. You’ll have to repeat that display a few more times so I know you didn’t just get lucky,”

“Oh, I got lucky all right,” he smirked. “Sleep. We’ll take the day off work tomorrow, and I’ll show you that wasn’t a fluke, eh?”

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #smut #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #prompt #request #sorry jesus

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Noise

It was the ever incredible and wonderful @minky-for-short's birthday yesterday so I wrote her this fic! Thanks for being such a good friend and also for coming up with this brilliant Artist AU for Thanatos and Zagreus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Thanatos wasn’t used to coming home to a quiet house.

When he was younger, he’d always walked in from school or training classes to the racket of a house full of his siblings. There would always be someone yelling, someone arguing, something crashing to the floor, a handful of brothers and sisters sprinting past. And something inside him would sink under the weight of it.

Even for the size of the house of Nyx, there were very few quiet places, driving Than up onto the roof if he actually wanted some peace after a long day. But then there would be Zagreus, on the good days, sitting beside him and telling some story to cheer him up when he could see Than was tired and getting run down. He was there waving his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked across the spine of the rooftop, eyes bright and wild and full. There was all the life and joy inside him bursting out as noise the way, later in life, it would burst out in his art.

Was it any wonder Than had fallen in love with him? He was the only kind of noise that had filled him up rather than worn him down.

And then he’d moved out but you’d really be surprised how much noise Sleep Incarnate could make when it was just the two of you sharing a cramped dorm room. And when your boyfriend was over half the time, bumping his elbows on everything and playing his guitar very badly as you tried to study, making you laugh, or sketching you as you typed an essay and throwing balls of paper at you when you moved and changed the light.

And you’d smile and you’d realise this was the man you were going to marry.

Now they had their brownstone, perfectly placed between Thanatos’ office and Zag’s studio and there was more noise contained in those walls than the mansion and that little dorm room combined. At first it was music, bright, cheesy music blasting as they unpacked all of those boxes and fit their two lives together for good. It was Zag singing in the shower on a morning, it was Than clattering pots and pans as he recreated his favourite recipes of his mothers, pared down for just the two of them. It was Cerberus barking at the birds on the fire escape or whining and kicking in his sleep, sprawled out across the sofa Than had definitely asked he not be allowed on.

And then Theodora happened. When neither of them had been looking, their bright, beautiful baby girl had come into their lives with one green eye and one gold one and all of her daddy’s spark and her papa’s brains and if Than had thought his life was noisy before, he was a fool.

But his life felt fuller than it ever had.

So when Thanatos walked through the door that evening, he immediately froze, overwhelmed with the sensation that something was very wrong. Because his house was silent.

Frowning, he hung his keys on the hook and shrugged out the heavy black coat he’d been sweating in for the last few days of warm weather. He’d had meetings with potential clients all over the place today and it felt like each one had required at least a block’s worth of walking. Of course he could just have taken the heavy thing off, as Zag often suggested, but he didn’t feel quite right without it. But drowning in sweat or not, he’d sold three of his husband's paintings today and he really felt like it warranted at least a welcome home kiss from said husband, followed by his daughter hauling herself onto her wobbly little baby legs, begging him to pick her up. And any other day, he’d have that wall of noise washing over him, loud and comforting and familiar.

So where were they?

The living room was eerily silent too, Theo’s toys lying in boneless patience for the next time she came along to play with them, the radio normally permanently tuned to Zag’s favourite station voiceless. Than frowned, the sense of disquiet getting a firmer grip on him as he passed through into the kitchen. The pots from breakfast were still in the sink, the dregs of Than’s coffee he’d hurriedly downed on the way to his office now ice cold sludge in the bottom of his favourite mug. Normally he’d be coming home to Zag attempting to cook dinner, it was his job to calmly survey the knife edge of disaster it was balancing on and diplomatically extract his husband from the stove so he could turn it into something edible. It was the thought that counted. But there wasn’t so much as a pot of tea brewing, the normally warm and raucous room cold and still.

Than’s frown deepened and he looked for a note, something to explain they’d gone to the store or the park, Zag often scrawled something on the back of an invitation to the latest gallery showing or letter asking for him to submit some work and stuck it onto the fridge. Thanatos had rescued commission requests worth thousands from the front of their fridge before, still valuable even with a request for eggs and milk scribbled on the back.

But he couldn’t see anything. The fridge only held a now week old reassurance that Zag had picked Theo up from his parents’ and taken her to get ice cream. Not much comfort to Thanatos, his heartbeat now increasing significantly.

Zagreus never left him worrying like this, he knew his husband's anxiety was only ever waiting for the slightest little nudge to topple over into overdrive. Hands starting to tremble now, he groped for his phone in his pocket, unsure whether to first dial Zag, his mother or the National Guard.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to work that out because just as he was about to yank his phone free, he heard a noise from behind the back door, something muffled coming from their tiny little walled garden. Laughter. Two kinds of laughter and he knew both of them well.

Relief settling over him, Than tried not to look like he’d been panicking that much as he pushed the door back and walked into the golden late afternoon sunlight. Their little yard wasn’t much, just a square of concrete tiles, but the borders were overflowing with greenery and flowers in sheer defiance to the lack of soil, all thanks to Than’s mother in law. In was in the sparse shades of these towering grasses and flowering vines that Zag and Theo were giggling. They were both grinning the same crooked grin, both pairs of eyes alight with that same joy.

And they were both covered in paint.

“Good evening,” Than found himself smiling too, before he even really knew why, “And what are we up to exactly?”

If Than was still a little miffed at his lack of a welcome home, it was quickly made up for when both his husband and daughter gave unison cries of delight and rushed towards him.

“Than!”

“Papa!”

Than laughed, bracing himself so he wasn’t completely knocked off his feet by their hugs, wrapping his arms around them. He accepted a lingering kiss from Zag before Theo loudly interrupted it with a retching noise, tugging on the bottom of his coat and demanding his attention.

“You gross!” she declared loudly, “Daddies gross!”

“Oh are we now?” Than chuckled, scooping her up and covering her pudgy little face in kisses until she squealed, “Is this gross?”

“No but your shirt might be going that way,” Zag grimaced apologetically, noticing the paint smearing from Theo onto her papa, “Sorry.”

Than glanced down, eyebrows raising, “Ah. And why exactly is my daughter covered in paint? I know a small amount is normal but this rather looks like she’s been rolling in it.”

Zag’s face brightened, “You’re not far off! I had this incredible idea, you see…”

“One that involved an awful lot of mess?” Than’s smile quirked fondly.

“All my best ideas do,” Zag winked over his shoulder before stepping to one side so Than could see the large roll of paper spread out across the ground.

Already it was filled with multicoloured smears and a few handprints, some footprints too, a cacophony of shape and colour. There were a few in different palettes hanging and drying on the back wall in the sun.

“You see, little Teddy’s going to be my new collaborator!” Zag spread his arms grandly over their work, “She starts them off and she can use whatever she feels like, just really moves with the energy of it all, y’know? Then I come in and tie it all together! She’s a phenomenal abstract artist!”

Than looked over the paintings they’d made together. Part of why he was such a good art dealer and such a good agent for Zagreus was that he found more to love in his work than anyone and he was good at making others see it too as he sold it to them. His love for the man spilled into the art, in the shapes and colours and textures he saw the person he’d loved since he was a kid. It was like Zag’s art spoke a language Thanatos was fluent in.

And looking at this art, the art Zag and their daughter had made together, it took his breath away. It was familiar and it was new all at once, it was bright and joyful as the two of them clashed and flowed together in the paint. If he looked long enough he could start to see what was Theo simply having fun splashing around in the colourful stuff she saw her daddy getting to play with all day and what was Zag fondly stitching her marks into something cohesive, something musical and formed.

And in it Thanatos could see his family. He could see noise.

“What do you think?” Zag’s eager smile had started to dim, his eyes getting a little anxious as he searched his husband’s face, tumbling into a nervous ramble, “I will clean her up, I promise, I put her in clothes she doesn’t love love, y’know? I will get the stains out, I swear and I can wash your shirt too if you want? I’ll use the special stuff that works really good, I mean, you might have to show me how but if there’s instructions I’ll just read those...”

Than took a step closer, careful not to damage the painting, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. As it always did, the touch alone was enough to calm Zag, his nervous stumbling coming to a stop, turning into a self conscious smile.

“Zag, it’s beautiful,” Than murmured gently, moving the hand to brush his cheek affectionately. Fortunately, Theo didn’t deem this unacceptably gross, just pressing her face to Than’s neck and nuzzling contentedly, “It’s really, really beautiful.”

Zag beamed, tilting his head hopefully, “Beautiful enough that you wanna help us make another one?”

Than smiled back, already maneuvering Theo so he could shrug out of his work jacket and let it fall to the floor, Theo giggling and squirming with excitement as she helped him push his sleeves up.

“Well, I’m not a phenomenal abstract artist like you two but it does look like fun…”

The works from this new series would go across the country, thanks to Thanatos. He really was a good agent.

They didn’t sell them, Zag didn’t want them to be sold for money after the initial exhibition. Instead they were donated to art schools and children’s hospital wards and after school clubs. But the one that all three of them had done together, the one with the two sets of bigger handprints in varying shades of red and purple and the flurry of tinier ones, the smudges and smears and bright splashes of eye watering colour, that one stayed firmly where it belonged, hanging in their living room. Over time they would take it down and add to it, especially when they had two more sets of tiny handprints to add to it.

And around it, their house would never, ever be quiet.

#hades #thanzag #artist au #modern au #just some cute #for a real wonderful lady who I love a lot #happy birthday!!

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Adoption (part 2)

A gift for @a-flower-lover! This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes... Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork. I hope that’s ok! (PART 1)

Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.

Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.

Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.

Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.

The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.

"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."

"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.

Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.

But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"

"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."

Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.

How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.

But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.

What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.

Because they had tried to kill him.

Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.

But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.

Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.

The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.

Jazz raised an eyebrow.

Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.

Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.

"Hi, Jazz!"

Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.

"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.

Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"

Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."

She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."

"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."

"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.

"I won't."

The house was creepy.

Really creepy.

This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.

But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.

Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.

Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.

"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.

"What?"

"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."

Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.

(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)

"Well," she said. "That's good."

"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."

"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.

"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."

Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"

"You've spoken to Daniel."

"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."

"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"

"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"

"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.

Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."

"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.

"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"

"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."

"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.

"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"

"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"

Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."

Clockwork groaned theatrically.

"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"

"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."

Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."

"We're adopted," said Clockwork.

"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."

It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.

It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.

On the other hand...

"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."

"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."

Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."

"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"

"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.

"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."

"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.

"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."

"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"

"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.

Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."

"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."

"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.

"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."

"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."

"You're the best."

Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.

So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.

Heh. Life.

(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)

He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.

One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.

He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.

But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.

(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)

"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.

"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."

"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."

"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."

"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."

"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."

Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.

"Clockwork?"

"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."

Danny blanched. "No."

"What?"

"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."

"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."

"What."

"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."

"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.

Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.

"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."

Daniel answered with a moan.

"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"

"I don't knoooooowww..."

"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.

"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.

Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."

Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."

"Promise?" asked Danny.

"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."

Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"

"Yes?"

"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"

"Of course not."

Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.

It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?

(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)

(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)

Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.

How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...

He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.

#danny phantom #gift #prize #winner #fic #phanfiction

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