#i got a canopy bed frame then never even decorated it

[h0ney8ee]

i wish i could be the type of person to have my shit together but im just not and probably never will be. i moved 4 months ago and i still have 2 boxes in my living room that i havent unpacked

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

Tear you appart - Felix Volturi x reader

Felix Volturi x fem! reader - contains smut

3456 words

content warning : swearing, darker and wilder than my usual Felix, possessive Felix, size difference (both him and reader like it) - Smut ahead ! please no judgment, this is the first time I'm writing some I tried my best I feel so embarrassed 😅 Stop at the divider if you don't want the smutty part that contains : dirty talk, voice kink, size kink, penetration, virgin reader (she's an adult in her 20's !), praise kink

Taglist : @agirllovespancakes <3

At first, you weren’t sure what to make of your mate. First, Felix was big. Like…two meters tall and really muscular. Like wow. And second, he… was busy. Like very busy, which you could comprehend since he was one of the highest ranked guards of the Volturi Coven. And the executioner… that's it you had said it. His job was to brutally kill people, and you did not fully know what to make of him because of that.

He was kind to you of course. But you could barely see him. He had a very important place in the coven after all, it would be mean to hold it against him, he couldn’t help it after all. But it was making it harder for you to understand him, how could you get to know him better if he wasn’t there with you?

Ever since you were staying with the Volturi after finding out that you were Felix’s soulmate, your existence had gotten kind of lonely. The current secretary would go shopping with you if you needed something but you were mostly staying in your quarters that were adjacent to Felix’s. So, you decided to spend the time by decorating as much as you could your quarters to your own taste.

As a goth, you took advantage of the Halloween season to buy home decor. Artificial black roses, deep red and purple ones, black lace curtains, gothic prints you paired with vintage looking frames Heidi found for you in an abandoned room… You kept the walls white but painted the furniture black. Lots of bookshelves were acquired to hold your book collection, CDs and DVDs, Felix had made sure you had a good TV and even better stereo when you said you basically lived with music. Anne Stokes and Victoria Frances’ art hung all over your walls, nemesis now dark fairy figures and cult cuties shelved neatly above your desk, nightmare before Christmas plushies and figures scattered all around your quarters with the occasional Hello Kitty and Kuromi: it was starting to look like home.

When December came by you bought red velvet curtains, and red crystal beads. A lot of them. Surprisingly, you were now finding every week rose bouquet, that you would put to dry and keep in elegant vases. You were sure they were from Felix, even if he never mentioned it the few times the two of you had met in November.

You were working on the canopy of the bed, after installing the black lace curtains and strings of white pearls that were easy to find as Christmas tree ornament, you were making garlands of red crystal beads that would reflect the light all around your bed canopy. Attaching bead after bead, you were disrupted by Felix. You looked at him, surprised as you saw him sit beside you on the black silk sheets of your bed.

“Good evening my darling mate”

This evening, you finally got to spend time with your mate. He apologized for his lack of presence beside you, the coven had been exceptionally busy and he had not been able to give you the time you deserved. But now, he was here, and could finally take care of you, his mate, properly.

You talked for hours that night, She Wants Revenge playing low in the background as you finally got to know each other.

But no matter how interesting this all was, you were getting tired. Felix noticed your yawn, and with a smile put you to bed, tucking you in and gently kissed your forehead goodnight.

Your Felix held his promise. Week after week you got to know the other better. Going from strangers to friends… to more. After a few months you realized that Felix wasn’t a friend anymore. No, he was more. You wanted him to be more. But it wasn’t easy. He was your soulmate! It was supposed to be easy! But it wasn’t. At all.

Spring came and left, and so did summer. It was the middle of autumn, and you still did not know how to tell your soulmate you liked him. How could you? How could a simple human compare to a vampire? He had not turned you yet, it seemed that he quite enjoyed your human habits for now. Maybe he liked your softness, the warmth of your skin or the color of your eyes? But that did not resolve your problem. How could you tell him when you had never done this before? You were in your twenties and not had your fist kiss yet!

You had started a diary to keep your memories, express your feelings and your thoughts. And the most recent entries were all about him. About Felix, the gleam in his eyes, the way his skin shone brightly under the sunlight, how hot you had found the glimpses of his toned and muscular body you had been able to see, the way his thunderous laugh made your heart smile… How… You love him. That’s it, you had admitted it fully: you loved him. It was written black on white in your diary. Your heart was in his hands. You did not need a prayer when you had his name.

That was the last line you wrote, leaving your diary on your bed as you left your bedroom to take a relaxing bath before going to bed in your favorite attire.

You came out of the bathroom, all clean and fresh, humming some She Wants Revenge song, when you froze. Felix. Felix was sitting on your bed. Felix was sitting on your bed holding your diary. Felix was reading your diary where you very explicitly wrote how much you loved him. Fuck.

 When Felix looked at you, you felt like you could die from embarrassment. You tried to leave, but in the blink of an eye you found yourself your back against a wall, Felix’s body pressed against yours preventing you from running away. Anyway, where would you have gone? This was your room, for fuck’s sake! You shivered as he used his big hand to raise your head so he could look you in the eyes.

“You meant it?”

“What”

“What you wrote in your diary about me. You mean it?”

You had never seen Felix that serious before, his husky voice had lost all humor.

“It… It is… Yes, it is true. I … I really mean it.”

You blurted out the last words, anxious. What if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear? What if he hated you now? What if… Wait, why was he smiling?

“You have no idea how long I’ve longed for this. May I?”

You nodded, not sure what he was asking for. He cupped your cheek, and to your surprise he kissed you. You closed your eyes.

It was better than what you had read in your books, much better. His lips were soft against yours, his kiss tender but quite possessive at the same time. You returned it, quite clumsily due to your inexperience, but still with enthusiasm. He was the one to break it so you could breathe again. You were only human after all. Your body needed it.

“Damn, that was…”

He laughed at your reaction.

“Can you do it again?”

Smirking, he eagerly accepted your request.

Later, when you were too tired to stay awake, Felix accepted to stay under the covers and hold you. The feeling of his strong and much bigger body wrapped around your much smaller frame brought unholy thoughts to your mind, that you quickly shook away, but it still let you the time to show slight embarrassment. You thought for a moment that Felix would take advantage of it, but he didn’t, only kissing the top of your head and bringing you closer to his body.

“Does that mean that we are together now?” “You could say that dolcezza.” “So you’re my boyfriend?” “Absolutely not. I’m your mate. If you want a more human term, just say that I’m your husband.”

You looked at him, shocked, and that little shit that was your mate had the biggest grin you’d ever seen.

“I… I think mate is an appropriate term.” “As you wish.”

Your heart was beating so fast he couldn’t not hear it, and his bright smile was the confirmation. Luckily for you, Felix had decided to go easy on you for tonight. But you feared what his teasing would be like…

You fell asleep with these thoughts in mind, Felix’s arms holding you tight against him. “Buonanotte tesoro mio, ti amo…”

When you woke up the next day, Felix was still here, holding you.

“Hi” “Hi. Slept well?” “Yes” “Good”

Bringing you closer to him, Felix buried his face in your neck. You froze as it felt like he was smelling you, and he left a kiss where he could feel your pulse. Being this close to him felt nice, really nice. He smelled good, too. Something musky, homey.

“Are you sniffing me?” “You did a few moments ago” “Touché.” A pause. “So?” “You smell nice. Like home.” “Ah, that’s a mate thing, you know? I smell good like that to you only.” “And me? What do I smell like?” “The tastiest thing I’ve ever met.” “Felix!” “What?! You should take this as a compliment! You smell delicious!”

He had that cocky look that looked so good on him. You couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

It was near Christmas now. More than one year since you met Felix, a few months since you realized you loved him, and a few weeks since the two of you were fully mated. Well fully… There was something the two of you had not done yet. It was… sex. For fuck’s sake, you were an adult, you could say the word sex! But… that did not erase the fact that you had basically no experience in dating. Felix was your first kiss… and would be your first lover. The thing was that he was not aware of it. How could you tell him! This man was cocky enough, if you told him, it would sign you way to a never-ending teasing! Fuck. Wait, that was the point! This man – or vampire – was going to be the death of you.

Your thoughts were a complete mess. You were sure than even Aro couldn’t understand a single shit if he were to read your mind. Which was why it was a good thing that he hadn’t asked for a while. But maybe it could actually help? Wait no! You couldn’t let him know you were desperately trying to get in the pants of his executioner. All of it was driving you crazy.

You tried to keep up with appearances with Felix, behaving as normal as you could with him, but you couldn’t help but let some touches linger more than necessary, brush against him every time you were close with him, dragging the kisses as long as you could without accidentally killing yourself from the lack of oxygen… All of it you thought Felix didn’t notice. But that was forgetting something: your mate was very much a predator. And as a human, you were very much prey for him, even as his mate.

Your heartbeat running faster when he was close, the way his low voice would send shivers down your spine, or how some kisses and touches could get you clenching your thighs… Felix noticed everything, and your asshole of a mate was reveling in it, your love like the thrill of the hunt. He took great pleasure in it, day after day, trying to drive you crazy until you would be your back against a wall, forced to tell him exactly what you wanted. And he would make sure you beg for it, dragging the thrill of the hunt as long as he could. But lucky for you, he loved you more than it. He would try to not make you beg, not too much at least.

Your Felix had become great at reading you, your expressions, your desires. And being as old as he was, it had not been hard for him to put two and two together: the way you returned his affection, always eager but also quite clumsily, always holding back afraid of going too far or doing wrong… That darker, possessive side off him was extremely satisfied of it, no one had touched you like that before, no one but him, you were forever his.

After a few weeks, your struggles were not funny anymore, he wanted you to feel desired, to not see your inexperience as a bad thing. You were so damn beautiful and desirable; he would show you how much he wanted you.

He would be off duty for the next few days, it was perfect. The next time he would get in your bed, you would not be sleeping for a good while.

For the past few days, it seemed like Felix was toying with you, always managing to get you where and how he wanted. He was slowly taking you out of your comfort zone, it was like he had something in mind as he would hold you close, soft breath in the crook of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He would let you back up if you were too uncomfortable, of course, but the bastard knew what he was doing, always taking you further and further of your comfort zone without crossing your boundaries, teaching you a few things about you in the meantime. Damn, did you always have that size and voice kink or was it of his doing? Fuck, you had no idea but did not care much, it was too good for the reasons why to matter anymore.

All of this led you to that very moment, your Felix towering over you, your back against the wall of your room. Voice low, whispering in your ear, driving you crazy.

“Aren’t you pretty like that, all flustered? Your blood smell so good I might just eat you…”

Of course, this led you to grow even more flustered, your blood rushing and tempting him even more. He took another step, and lowered his head even more, leaving cold kisses on your neck, his cool breath driving you crazy. You move your head to give him a better access, and let out a soft moan as his teeth scrap your neck.

“You like that don’t you? To be all helpless as soon as I touch you. My beautiful darling…”

He lifts you, claiming your lips and you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist. He bites your lower lip, and you let out a soft gasp, your Felix taking advantage of it, his tongue meeting yours to explore your mouth. After a while the two of you part, soft panting can be heard from you. At this moment, you realize you left your stereo on, and as your notice what song is playing you send to hell every hesitation and kiss him passionately.

“I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close, soft breast, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear, "I wanna fucking tear you apart"

It drives the both of you crazy, leaving you only wanting more, more than everything you had already done. So when Felix carries you to the bed, you continue to kiss him. When he lays you on the bed, climbing on top of you, you drag him close and deepen the kiss. When he takes off your shirt, you unbutton his, hands roaming everywhere on the other’s body in a frenzy haze, kisses left everywhere.

“I want you” you pause. “No, I need you.” You let out a moan as he rips your bra and leave kisses on your breast, a smile oh so smug brightening his face as he finds your sensitive spot. You writhe underneath him, clenching your thighs together, left wanting more, needing more of him.  

“Felix…” His name leaves your mouth as a soft moan, and he can’t help but chuckle at your neediness, he’s finally got you where he wants you to be, he’s going to drag on this teasing as much as he can.

“That’s my name darling, say it again…”

He’s so smug but you can’t help but do as he say, especially when his pants and yours disappear, and his hand slip in your silky panties. As he brushes against your clit, you can’t help but buckle your hips, trying to get more friction where you need him the most.

“Eager, aren’t we?”  Always that smug expression, he knows he is driving you crazy and he revels in it: you’re his and he is the only one able to get these reactions from you. He leans over you, pressing his body against yours, claiming your lips once again. You whimper as you can feel his hard bulge against you, increasing your arousal to an extent you didn’t know was possible. But you weren’t the only one left craving for more.

“Please Felix…” “I need you to use your words tesorina. Tell me, what you want?” “You. I want you I need you!” “So greedy my darling… Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer him as he rips your panties, throwing away what’s left of them before making his own underwear meet the same fate. He’s bigger than you anticipated, yet the only thing you can focus on is how much you want him inside of you.

Not breaking eye contact with you, he strokes his penis a few times, making sure it’s slick with his precum and your arousal, and get on top of you, teasing your wet folds with his hard length.

“Are you sure you want this?” He looks at you with such seriousness, trying to read your face and be sure this is what you want, that he’s not going further than you’re comfortable with. “Yes Felix please” “You only have one word to say and I’ll stop if it’s too much for you”

You nod, and satisfied with your approval Felix thrust into you. You moan at the feeling; you feel so full of him. You expected it to hurt, being your first time, but it doesn’t, your love prepared you enough.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it my darling? My cock filling you up, bringing you more pleasure than you’ve ever had.”

You can only whine and moan, too lost in the pleasure you’re experiencing for the first time. Felix eats up every of your reactions, satisfied that only him get to make you feel this good.

“You’re so responsive to my touch” Felix praises you, and his words do something to you you weren’t aware of it being possible. Something good. Really good. Felix, attentive to all of your reactions, notice and whispers sweet praises in your ear, driving you wild. He thrusts faster, eliciting more moans from you. It feels so good, you can only focus on him and the pleasure he gives you, moaning his name.

“I love hearing you cry out my name, tesoro. It’s music to my ears.”

He finally finds an especially sensitive spot of yours, hitting it relentlessly, eliciting moan after moan from you. He growls in pleasure, getting you closer and closer. You feel something ready to snap inside of you.

“Please Felix I’m close so close!” “That’s it darling, come for me.” He kisses your shoulder. “Come for me, let me feel how much you love me. I’ll be right behind you, filling you with everything I have.”

The pad of this finger brushes against your clit, and with his dirty words it’s enough to make you snap, riding the first climax of your life. Your Felix follows quickly, his cool cum filling your cunt as he moans your name, “you’re mine all mine my [Y/N] forever mine never letting you go my sweet and beautiful [Y/N]”

You fall back on the bed, trembling with pleasure and exhaustion. Sliding out of you, Felix admires for a moment your mixed release dripping down your inner thighs, before laying down beside you and holding you close, whispering sweet praises in your ear. He kisses your forehead tenderly, and you snuggle closer to him.

“I love you” “I love you too tesorina”

Exhausted, you fall asleep, safe and spent in your mate’s arms, Felix never letting you go for a second, holding you tight against him the whole time. This is what eternity should feel like, and he will make sure it always is that way for you.  

[sallytheseamstress]

sweetellafontaine​:

Ella had to chuckle at Sally’s grumbling tone, it was weird to see the other in an unamused state. But she could understand, there were simply too many examples to pick from.

“For the bed frame?” Ella repeated the question while thinking what she should answer. “I feel like dark woods suite you more.”

She also had picked dark toned wood when she decorated the room for Sally. “You know if you want you can take the furniture in the guestroom I provided you with?” She suddenly came with the idea. “That way you wouldn’t need to spend so much money?”

.

Ella’s little chuckle got the seamstress to smile a little. It did feel a lot like making a mountain out of a molehill, but it was hard to not care so much.

“Hm, I think you’re right,” Sally nodded, looking at a particular one, with beautiful carved spindles and rail details. Extremely dramatic, just like she was being right then, Sally smiled. “You know, when I was a little girl, for some reason I truly wanted a four-poster bed. I never dared to dream for a canopy, but four-poster seemed reasonable, for some reason... I must have seen an illustration of one in a fairytale book, maybe.” She ran a hand over the carvings, and glanced at the price. It was not cheap, but it was the sort of thing that she knew she would keep thinking about, over and over, like that time she had seen her well-loved black leather boots on a shop window. That had been one of her first big purchases, the type she had saved for months to afford on her own allowance.

Sally opened her mouth to reply, and closed it before she could make a sound. “I... Well, I...” She hadn’t even thought about keeping any of those furniture pieces, partly because, they were Ella’s property, and not hers to claim; and because, despite how high-class and elegant they were, and how well they had fitted the room Ella gave her, it was still something that someone else had chosen for her. She looked at Ella, wringing her hands. “It’s... It’s very kind of you, Ella, but I’m not sure... I mean, I’d love to, but... I don’t want to be ungrateful,” she finally blurted. “But I think it’s important that I do this. That I do this thing of choosing myself, and getting it myself, and... Is that weird?” She had stood up for herself, only to back down in her own insecurity, and she knew it very well. Baby steps, Sally guessed.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Fists & Fangs

Words: 2516 Pairing: Loki x Reader Warnings: mentions of injuries, but no graphic depictions. Summary: Reader gets hurt while trying to turn Hulk back into Bruce Banner. The only place she can thing to go to in Avenger's Tower as it's not too far away. Exhausted and barley able to stand, Reader comes upon Loki and collapses in his arms. A/N: There will be at least a part 2 to this. just didn't want to make this one too much longer.

The Avengers Tower couldn’t be that far away. You guessed it was about a block maybe two from where you were. Two blocks was a doable distance. You leaned against the wall of a nearby building. You had to keep moving despite everything telling you to stop; to close your eyes and rest. You weren’t sure if you had a concussion or not and if you stopped too long you were afraid you’d passed out. You allowed a few more breaths of rest before pushing off the wall and continuing on.

He didn’t mean it. You knew that was true. Bruce had never intentionally hurt you before nor had the Hulk. It was your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to transform him back on your own. Getting Bruce back from the Hulk was sometimes even hard for actual Avengers, let alone you his very breakable, non-superpower having, sister. Two blocks. You reminded yourself.

You moved at a grueling pace. Aside from the fact that all the muscles in your arms and legs ached, the heel had broken off your left shoe. You supposed you could remove your shoes completely, but the New York City sidewalks weren’t the sort of place anyone wanted to walk barefoot. So you clomped along feeling a bit like a horse. The image would have been funny to you if you weren’t so sore.

You arrived at the private entrance to the Avengers Tower. You typed on your unique access code and the door opened. You were relieved you’d memorized it. It was eight numbers long and it changed randomly for security reasons. You’d argued with Tony once that you’d never need to memorize the code because you’d always have your phone. He mumbled some comment about millennials and their phones before forcing you to memorize the new code anyway.

As always, Tony Stark would get the last laugh. During the incident, you’d managed to lose your phone or it was destroyed. It was hard to remember. Your head was fuzzy. You needed to get help soon. The weariness was beginning to take its toll. You made it to the elevator at the end of the hall and pressed the button. You leaned against the wall and allowed your eyes to close. What floor was medical on again?

The elevator dinged and you heard someone step out. You forced your eyes to open but couldn’t seem to muster the strength to lift your head. You were looking down at a stylish pair of leather shoes. They looked expensive, handmade even, but not something Tony would wear.

“[Y/N]? Whatever’s happened to you?” The voice registered as familiar but you couldn’t place who it belonged to. The fog in your mind was too thick now. You looked up to see Thor’s brother, Loki, towering over you. His face was the last thing you saw before you collapsed.

The next thing you were aware of, was waking up in a bed that was unfamiliar to you. The sheets were soft and silky smooth. The bedspread was a thick woven blanket. It was mostly emerald green but there was a pattern of golden snakes integrated into the design. The bed itself was massive, a king size at least, with an ornate gold frame and a black transparent fabric canopy above you.

“Ah you’re awake.” You looked to your right to see Loki sitting in a gilded chair nearby. He closed the book he’d been reading. It looked like a heavy tome of some sort. Maybe a spell book. He put the book down at the table beside him and got to his feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Where am I?” You asked. You didn’t recognize the room you were in. It was lavishly decorated with large windows that faced the moonlight and a door that seemed to lead out to a balcony. The room was large, much too large to still be in the Avenger’s Tower. You sat up and watched Loki approach you slowly.

“Asgard.” He answered and noticed you shrink away from him. He stopped walking, still five feet away. “I’m not going to hurt you, [Y/N].”

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked.

“You were hurt.” Loki explained softly. “I was looking for Thor and I thought I’d find him at the Tower but he wasn’t there. I was on my way out when you literally fell into my arms.”

“That didn’t answer my question, Loki.” You hadn’t spent much time around the trickster god. Like any New Yorker you’d seen the footage of his attempted hostile takeover. Since then, Thor had assured everyone that he was no longer a threat. Still, you’d personally decided to limit your exposure to him whenever possible. Despite both being siblings of Avengers, it turned out the God of Mischief was easy enough to avoid.

“Well as I said, you were injured and couldn’t exactly tell me how it happened. I thought the safest thing to do was to bring you back here.” He explained. “No one can hurt you here, not even your brother.”

“Bruce would never hurt me.” You said firmly. “That’s not what happened.”

“Alright very well, the Hulk then.” Loki sighed. He wasn’t one to argue semantics.

“I didn’t say…” You tried to argue but Loki cut you off.

“There’s no point in lying for him. I saw it in your mind’s eye.” Loki explained.

“In my…You read my mind?” Suddenly angry.

“Well, it’s not as if you could tell me what happened while you were unconscious.” Loki huffed. “I wanted to know what happened and to make sure we weren’t in immediate danger.”

He’d never understand what it was that Thor liked about Midgardians. You were all so small and fragile and needed everything explained to you. This was not Loki’s area of expertise. Even as children Thor had more experience with coddling. But you’d looked so frail when the god of mischief had come upon you, how could he possibly leave you there?

“I’m not going to allow anything to happen to you, [Y/N].” He told you firmly. “Your safe here on Asgard. You should get some rest. Your injuries were rather severe.”

“I shouldn’t sleep.” You disagreed. “I might have a concussion. I need a doctor. Do you have doctors on Asgard?”

“You don’t need a doctor and you don’t have a concussion.” Loki began to edge towards you again, taking slow measured steps. “I took the liberty of healing you myself.”

“What? Why would you do that?” You asked him. “I don’t have a way of repaying you, I have nothing to offer in return.”

“I’m not asking for…” He was less than a foot away now and trying to explain that he didn’t expect anything in return when there was a loud bang on the chamber door. Loki sprung away at the sudden sound.

“Brother? I know you’re in there!” Thor’s voice boomed from the other side of heavy wooden doors. “Where is [Y/N]?”

Loki rolled his eyes. With an effortless wave of Loki’s hand, the door swung open. Thor came charging into the room and behind him were Tony Stark and your own brother.

“Do not make me ask a third time brother, where is, [Y/N]?” Thor demanded.

“Brother why so hostile?” Loki questioned calmly. “Surely you know I would never cause [Y/N] harm.”

“We all saw the security footage of you taking her. I can play it for you.” Tony offered.

“I assure you all she is perfectly safe in my care.” Loki asserted. “Certainly, safer than when she was being guarded by you three.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bruce snarled.

“Okay, Okay, Loki you’ve had your fun.” Thor said stepping between them. “Tell us where you’ve taken [Y/N].”

“Some rescue team you three are.” You said when they’d all stopped talking long enough for you to get a word in. You tossed back the covers and started to get out of bed. You realized two things at nearly the same time. Loki’s bed was lifted on a stone platform, sitting it above the rest of the room, and you still felt incredibly weak. You staggered forward slightly as you got to your feet.

“[Y/N]!” Bruce lunge towards you but Loki was already there. He gripped your elbows and held you up right.

“Allow me to help you to the chair?” He asked, nodding to the seat he’d just been sitting in. You nodded. Loki helped you step down from the marble platform and let you set the pace while you walked.

“See, I told you we had nothing to worry about!” Thor proclaimed as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Nothing to…You were the one who was ready to bust down the door.” Tony reminded him.

“Yes, well, Banner was looking rather green before I offered to do so!” Thor argued back.

“Are they always like this?” Loki whispered to you as he helped you lower yourself into his chair.

“Yes.” You whispered back. “Not just them, all the Avengers.”

“No wonder you were on death’s doorstep before you came to them for help.” Loki smirked. He wheeled around on his heels so that he was facing Thor, Tony and Bruce. “Excuse me, Midgard’s Mightiest?” He called to them clearing his throat. “[Y/N] is recovering from some near fatal injuries and your shouting isn’t helping.”

“Fatal?” You watched the color drain from Bruce’s face. He crossed the room towards you. “[Y/N], I’m so…” You held your hand up to stop him.

“I know you didn’t mean it and it was stupid of me to get in your way.” You told him.

“She looks fine to me.” Tony commented. He commanded the AI in his suit to scan you for injuries. “A little banged up, but nothing life threatening.” He said.

“Yes, well, as I’ve been trying to explain, I’ve done a great amount of healing already.” Loki sighed impatiently. “Those bruises might not look like much now but most of them were the size of a baseball. Each one was a hideous purple-black color. Her left ankle had a hairline fracture. Which was awful by the way, I hate mending bones.” He grimaced. “And let’s not forget the concussion…”

“Hang on!” You interrupted. “I thought you’d said I didn’t have concussion.”

“No, I said you don’t have a concussion. Because you don’t anymore, I fixed it for you.” He explained.

“Ah, my brother is one of the finest healers on Asgard!” Thor exclaimed proudly. “When we were young his healing magic was bested by only that of our Queen Mother! Why I remember this one time after he literally stabbed me in the back…”

“Why would you help her?” Bruce questioned suspiciously over Thor’s storytelling.

“Is it so hard to believe that I saw someone who was hurt and took it upon myself to help them?” Loki gasped.

“Yes.” You, Tony and Bruce all said at the same time.

“Well given it was her own brother who had harmed her, perhaps today is a day for surprises.” Loki answered.

“Why were you at Avenger’s Tower any way brother?” Thor questioned.

“I wanted to discuss something with you.” Loki told him. “We can talk about it later. For now, I should like to get [Y/N] back to bed so she can rest.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bruce insisted. “I’m staying here, with [Y/N].”

“Actually Bruce,” You chimed in, slowing rising to your feet. “I think I’d like to be alone for a little bit.”

“Well, Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark, should you choose to stay I’m sure arrangements can be made for the two of you to stay here. As long as the King of Asgard has no objections to putting you both up in a pair of guest rooms?” Loki suggested.

“You shall here none from me.” Thor agreed. “Nothing heals this sick faster than being with family and friends.”

“Excellent. Dr. Banner I’ll have them set you up in the Olive Branch room. Very serine, you’ll love it.” Loki smirked.

“There’s an adjoining room to that suit which would suit [Y/N] perfectly.” Thor pointed out. “I’ll have the servants make the arrangements!”

“Well, brother, I was thinking [Y/N] could remain here.” Loki suggested.

“Here? But Loki this is your room!” Thor laughed. Loki didn’t miss a beat as he launched into an explanation.

“Yes, it is.” He didn’t deny it. “However, as I have made [Y/N]’s safely my responsibly, I feel more comfortable having her here in my room, where I have close access to my magic supplies, should she need further healing intervention.”

“That is very sensible and forward-thinking of you, Loki.” Thor nodded, proudly. “Lady [Y/N], do you have any objections to this?”

“Where would you sleep?” You asked Loki.

“A bedroll on the floor of course.” He answered as if it should be obvious.

“Well, I definitely object to kicking you out of your own bed.” You told him.

“I object to you sleeping in the same room as Loki.” Bruce chimed in.

“Be reasonable, [Y/N].” Loki told you with annoyance. “Your body needs rest. What would have taken months to repair I’ve accelerated to mere hours. That would take its toll on even your super soldier friends. A mat on the cold floor stuffed with straw will not give you that.”

“It’s settled then!” Thor clapped his hands together. “Come Banner, Stark, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“Hang on!” Bruce shook his head. “I think [Y/N] and I should talk about this.”

Thor studied Banner. The scientist looked like he could go on for several hours berating you and Loki with questions. His brow was furrowed, and he was tapping the palm of his hand with his glasses. A surefire sign the doctor’s gears were really turning. Talking was not always something Thor enjoyed. Most often he found conversations were tedious and there wasn’t much brute force couldn’t solve that talking could. When talking seemed to be the only out, he’d always preferred to let Loki run the mental gymnastics with their opponent.

His gaze drifted from the elder Banner sibling to you. You looked as if all the strength you possessed was being used to sit and hold you head upright. If you’d been as injured as Loki said, he supposed you could be. You certainly didn’t look like you’d be well enough to carry on conversing.

“Yes, yes, we’ll sort that all out.” Thor promised. “We’ll let her get some rest and in the morning, you can visit and talk some more.” Like herding a pair of Midgardian sheep, Thor ushered Tony and Bruce out of the room. Another flick of Loki’s wrist and the doors once again closed behind him.

“May I help you back into bed?” Loki asked, offering his hands out to you.

“I still don’t’ understand why you’re being so nice to me.” You told him.

“I know what it’s like to have a brother who doesn’t know his own strength.” Loki told you quietly. “Just because they don’t mean to hurt you, it doesn’t mean the wounds hurt any less.”

[crimson-cring-art]

A Flower in the Emperor’s Palace

Chapter 30

Grandfather

Commission by @dannydarzuski

It smelled…different. That's what she noticed first. The very odd scent she never sampled before. She slowly opened her eyes, everything seemed blurry. The high canopy of the bed is the second thing.

Ming Yue slowly sat up and instantly regretted the act. She put her hand on her head and groaned loudly rolling onto her side, grabbing her pillow and covering her face. She hated this so much.

She tried to remember what happened. Why was she there, what…it took her a second to remember what had happened.

“Wukong!” She sat up and looked around the room. Her head started pounding worse. She really wished she could call Hungi to get her some iced water or tea…she missed tea. She missed Hungi. She hoped he was okay. Her hand covered her eyes for a moment as she turned pulling the curtains from the canopy and spotted a cup of water, two blue pills, and a note.

Her little hand wrapped around the note and she read the finely written script.

“For headache.” before she reached out for the medication and water. Downing both and cringed at the pills' flavor. She really hated taking medication, but then again she didn’t know anyone who did.

Slowly getting up with the cold drink in hand. She finally got to see where she was. The room was beautifully decorated. The walls were a light purple, the blue lace, and the floor was marble. She ran her foot over the surface and almost melted, it had to have been a heated floor because it would seem they were out in space. She had heard stories that it was cold out there, and unbreathable.

She walked over to the bed again and ran her fingers over the satin sheets. Their blue color matched the curtains, and the pillows were nice and fluffy. She wanted to just curl back up and go to sleep again. It would probably help her throbbing head. But at least the medication had knocked it down to a dull throb.

Looking in the mirror she realized just how much of a horrible sight she must have been. Reaching out picking up a brush she was able to at least get the tangles out. Although she would have loved a new dress. The one Macaque put her in looked…sad, and depressing. Black and purple. She missed the reds, and golds Wukong got her.

She put down the brush and took a drink of the iced water. She gasped and gurgled at the sudden sight of the glowing light from her choker. She dropped the cup, the contents sprayed the floor. The light pointed toward the door.

Ming Yue covered her neck attempting to get the glow to go away. She didn’t want anyone to see it. Much less some unknown captor.

“Geez why am I always being captured. You’d think I was trying my best to go to India.” There had been stories and talks of a journey west. One that probably won’t happen now that Macaque took over. She sighed as she slowly opened the door.

The beam of light flowed down the hallway. Just where was this thing taking her? Where was she going?

Her unshoed feet tapped the floor as she walked. Each room was just as huge as the next. Many different types of armor adorned the area, and the pictures along the walls were of many different wolves killing lots of different monsters, demons, even humans in armor. She cringed at the look of them. Each one covered in more blood than the next. Her fingers ran over her forehead as she walked along the halls.

Tap, tap, tap.

Her feet seemed to get louder as she walked along the floors.

She saw a much bigger portrait. One with a golden frame. Within were three female wolves sitting next to one of the monsters. There was a throne next to it.

Her ear perked up as she heard a heated conversation. She slowly leaned in to listen for a moment. She wasn’t too sure who these people were.

“It's that monkey!” One yelled above the others. “We’ve seen him before, we should just kill him and that other one and be done with it!”

“But therein lies the problem!”

There was a soft growl behind Ming Yue. She jumped looking around at the wolf who walked forward toward her. She backed away with her hands held up.

“Its okay, I’m not going to cause trouble.” Although she really wished she didn’t have to be there being cornered by a wolf.

“Leave her be.” The throaty voice from the next room said. Ming Yue watched the wolf turn around and walk back toward where it must have been sitting before she interrupted there visual.

The large wolf slowly stepped down from his throne and made his way toward the gray monkey. He looked down at her. He was easily twice her height. His eyes went down to her necklace and then back up at her.

“You must be Cesia?” He asked. She could see the scar over his eye a lot more now. It looked deep, and the eye itself was a milky white. She was pretty sure he couldn’t see out of it. But more importantly…

How did he know that name? No one ever calls her that name, not…well her mother and father. But that was it. Both of which are gone now.

“Yes.” She simply said. Choosing to keep it short and to the point. She watched as the large wolf smiled…well if that's what you wanted to call it. The corners of his eyes raised a bit.

“You have your mothers eyes.” How the hell would he know that? Who the hell was this wolf, and why were they in this…she tried to compose herself; she wanted nothing more than to have these questions answered.

“It is nice to see that you have your mothers traits. It’ll help you survive whats to come.”

Wait…what? Was this man her grandfather? That was impossible…right!” She shook her head.

“Who…?” She began only to hear the door behind her bang. The heard knocking shook the building. Ming Yue watched as the large wolf sat down next to her.

“It would seem the high emperor is not pleased.”

“Wukong…?” She ran forward trying to get to him. His large paw pulled her back and glared down at the door.

“This…isn’t his kingdom. It is mine.” The wolf growled as the doors were thrown open by the angry golden monkey. His teeth are bare and dripping.

“Where is my bride!” He yelled out.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I’ve been going through old photos, and so here are a few showing inside the house I lived in until I was 9, what I call “Mom’s house”

1- I had said how my family had one big bed room divided into smaller ones by bookcases. Here you see it, with this pic of Pop reading to me. And I think you can see just how insanely flat my feet are even here!

The bed was a “captain’s bed”, meant to replicate a ship’s bunk, so it was high up with drawers under it, and I had this large wooden box I’d sort of vault myself up onto it. I loved that bed. It had a large hollow area underneath I’d hang out in, and latter my parents built a canopy on it for me. I miss my ”captain’s canopy” bed. Now I sleep on a futon set on springs on the floor, kinda the opposite of that bed!

Not surprisingly it was one of the science books on those shelves that led to the revelation at 6 that I could read ANYTHING if I broke things down enough. Don’t know what a word means? Look it up. Don’t understand all the words in a definition? Look it up.

2- Before I had my own bed I spent the first four years of my life sleeping between my parents. I dunno what Pop and I were watching, but Cookie Monster joined us. I also found a pic of me with my Ernie puppet. I still have them, but then I have almost all my childhood toys. I saw pics of me at Christmas when I was 1, and I still had at least part of all the toys!

3- Mom and me. I haven’t found many pics of the scientific equipment that was always lying around, but hey, there is a telescope at least.

4- And that is Pop and I at the kitchen table! It was a table he made, where he fiberglassed over the top. It’s on the porch now, but I’d love to have it in the house again. Books and magazines weren’t just allowed at the table, they were almost always ON the table! LOL

5- And this is the living room! Ok, we had a front room for guests, but this is where we lived. That big ol’ kerosene heater was how we heated the house. The toy fire engine on the piano was Pop’s as a child, and yes, I still have it even after all those years of being played with. There is a photo after, with Pop’s help, the thing my brother was building reached the ceiling and you can see the other wall. In that shot you have a poster from The Empire Strikes Back of a Star Destroyer, a large poster of the US at night from space, a velcro Winnie the Pooh target game, and…yeah…a frames collection of family snapshots. This is typical family living room decorating, right?

6- There you see the family tv! I wasn’t joking that my family didn’t even have a color tv until I was 9. My folks had a couple of these little tvs, and they would be in different rooms at different times. Maybe that’s why I am baffled by people being critical of old movies or tv for fuzzy or B&W images. When I was little EVERYTHING I watched was fuzzy and B&W!

Oh, and yes the living room walls are pink. They still are. Mom painted them that way sometime in the late 1960s, and I it never got repainted. Well, my brother and I did do a bit of drawing on the wall and slapping stickers on it. A lot of it she did find ways to cover once my grandma was living there without us.

Sorry about the quality of the pics, but they were neglected all these years. I just thought it was fun to see how alien the hyper neat, interior decorated, state of the art luxuries, upper middle class world you see in most movies and tv are to me.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Vampire in a Bottle (Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC

Prompt: cursed object

Warning: Smut!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 7,251

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister​/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: I legit expected this to be 5 maybe 6 pages long. Was not expecting it to end up being 15 whole ass pages long.

       She’d heard stories about creatures tied to objects, bound to them my wizards or witches or priests. Everyone had. The djinni of the lamp, silkies and their skin, even myths of demons lending their bloodlust to legendary swords. 

       The vampire stuck in the wine bottle though, now that was a first.

       It had come as a surprise when MC had first stumbled upon the mansion on one of her hikes outside the city. She must’ve hiked the same path a hundred times and never had she caught so much as a glimpse of the sprawling estate, even if it was only a shell of its obvious former glory now. Had she taken a wrong path somewhere? Drifted away in her thoughts too much and unintentionally wandered away into the bushes? Looking back the way she’d come, she realized that no, she hadn’t veered in any way from her usual path, which made the sudden appearance of the mansion especially strange. 

       It was quite the complex, all graceful arches and columns, reds and whites. A massive fountain topped with a headless statue centered an overgrown path, and even from her vantage point still a ways away from the building, she could tell that what was once a manicured garden lay behind the mansion. It was like something out of a fairy tail; she wondered about it’s story, who lived here and what events had taken place within its walls. Now, the place was positively decrepit, still somewhat majestic, but old and creepy nonetheless.

       So, doing what any normal person would do, MC thought, ‘Very old and creepy,’ and turned back the way she’d come. There was no way in hell she was going to wander in like some airheaded protagonist out of a horror movie and get pestered or possessed or who knows what else. Nope. She was going to choose life today.

       It seemed her fears about the place being somewhat supernatural were true though, because a few minutes later, when she was sure she was about to step back onto a more familiar leg of the path, she emerged right on the same cliff overlooking the estate as before. The mansion sat there expectantly and she almost imagined it was saying, “Oh, you’re back.”

       Blinking, she stared for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head, soft mutters of “no, no, no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she turned away and rubbed her eyes. Her heart was beating a little faster now, sweat forming on the back of her neck. This was too strange. She’d hiked this path a hundred times and there had never, ever been a mansion here before. Furthermore, there was no way she was going around in circles. She knew the area and its trails well enough to have been able to find her way even if she did get lost.

       Pulling out her phone, MC tried and failed to find her location on the google maps, cursing as the words ‘No Signal’ replaced the usual friendly bars in the left-hand corner. Shoving the device back into her pocket, she sighed and stomped back down the path. This time she paid attention to familiar landmarks, carefully retracing her steps. For a second, she thought for sure she was in the clear, that she would come out on the path and walk away to forget this ever happened as some strange hallucination.

       Apparently that was not to be the case today though as, lo and behold, when she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, there she was again, the mansion laid out and waiting before her. She could practically feel it rolling its eyes at her this time. 

       Collapsing on the leaves and pine needles, she laughed breathlessly. No way was this happening. Why today of all days? Why couldn’t the universe just let her keep having her normal days without throwing in a mansion that appeared and disappeared like a ghost ship too? She felt like she was going crazy. 

       After a few minutes of deep breathing and burying her face in her knees, trying to rub the image of the mansion away, she rose to her feet. This place wanted her to...do something? Fine. She had a feeling it would just keep making her walk in circles until she came inside. Best case scenario it really was just an old mansion and she would find another way back to the trail after having searched the property. Worst case scenario? She was dragged to the underworld by whatever vengeful ghosts might inhabit the place. No problem, right?

       Her legs felt weak as she picked her way down the cliffside, slowly getting closer and closer to the hulking abode. The grass on the vast lawn was so overgrown she had a hard time making her way across it, nearly tripping a couple of times when it got caught around her calves and ankles. As she got closer, she started to realize just how massive the place really was. So similar to most of the castles and palaces and royal mansions she’d visited on trips, whoever had built this place and lived here had gone for extravagance, a show of wealth, but something about it was quiet in a way that made it seem like it was meant to be tucked away back here. It would have been beautiful if the situation were different and she wasn’t so freaked out.

       On the bright side, at least the weather wasn’t cloudy like these kinds of places usually were in books and movies, and she didn’t have the feeling anyone was watching her. It was a sunny day, the sky blue and dotted here and there with the occasional cloud. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless as she faced the beast.

       Taking a minute, MC just stood there in front of the mansion, staring up at broken windows and ivy covered columns and weeds poking up through the stones. “What do you want from me?” she grumbled to herself before shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

       Heavy iron rings hung on the wooden doors, their white paint peeled away to reveal the brown wood beneath. Her hand looked tiny in comparison to the ring as she grasped it, cold and dark against her skin, and pulled the door open. It grated against the floor as it opened, and she paused, tensed and waiting for something to jump out at her, for a swarm of bats or something. But nothing came and after a minute, she peered inside. Part of the roof had fallen in, allowing shafts of daylight to pierce the gloom and illuminate the grand receiving hall. Her shoes padded softly against the marble floor as she took a few steps inside, careful of the debris. A grand staircase of white stone led up to a second story and as she turned in a circle to fully take in the room MC saw more signs of wealth: giant paintings, moth-eaten tapestries, silver candlesticks nearly too tarnished to recognize. 

       A gentle breeze blew in from the open door behind her, stirring leaves across the floor and up the stairs. After another quick glance around, she crept up the staircase, brushing her fingers across the cold, stone banister as she did. Choosing to turn to her left once she was at the top of the stairs, she followed a long hallway in what she guessed was the west wing. More paintings and golden sconces decorated the walls, curtains made of dusty velvet framing smashed windows. The mansion had yet to make its next move, to give her any indication of what it wanted her to do, where it wanted her to go. It was hard to tell because everything was so old and nature had long since started reclaiming the place, but she thought she saw signs of a struggle, irregularly torn canvases and tables knocked over, their vintage contents spilled all over the floor.

       She startled, gasping, when a door at the end of the hall creaked open, a strong breeze whistling down the corridor and urging her along. MC could feel the mansion’s impatience pushing in at her from all sides, tugging at her hair and pushing at her back. Balling her fists, she gulped and creeped towards the indicated entryway, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever she might find. 

       Her breath stuck in her throat as she took a careful look inside, surprised at the luxury and opulence that met her gaze. The chamber was so large and gilded it had to be the master bedroom. The walls and ceiling were framed in gold, the ceiling painted with some scene that belonged in a cathedral. The canopied bed had long since succumbed to moths and the forces of nature, but the size of it could have rivaled any king size bed, and the rugs, once richly colored, still retained some of their ancient plushness as she stepped into the room. Reaching out, she ran her fingers along the carved edge of a table, tracing the intricate whorls and flowers. The same signs of a struggle were here too, a sharp gash taken out of the leg of the table and old books and shattered glass lying on the floor.

       A strong gust of wind blew in from the broken window, disturbing the heavy velvet curtains and knocking an old wine bottle off the small table in front of the broken pane. She winced as the bottle hit the floor, expecting it to shatter, but instead it bounced, rolling until it stopped against her foot.

       MC blinked and bent down to pick it up, noting the strange weight inside it. There wasn’t a label and she tipped it back and forth in her palm, weighing its contents. The red glass was too dark to see whatever was inside, but it didn’t feel like liquid sloshing around, that was for sure. Idly tapping a nail against the cool surface as she went to put it back on the table, she nearly screamed when something tapped back. 

       Letting go of the bottle and skittering back, she tripped over a chair, sending her falling on her ass. The bottle didn’t bounce this time, shattering instead with a sound like thunder that shook the mansion. A whirlwind filled the room, sending debris flying as it exploded outwards. Crouching and covering her head with her arms, MC waited, eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, for whatever was happening to stop. It could’ve been seconds or minutes; she barely knew which as the gale settled, ending as quickly as it had begun. Uncovering her head, she peeked, shaking, around the room. Anything that had been in contact certainly wasn’t now, nothing but shafts of wood and scraps of fabric remaining. But the furniture held the least of her attention right now, not with the sudden appearance of the room’s other occupant.

       He was on his knees, heaving and gasping. She couldn’t see his face from her place behind the chair, only locks of yellow hair. His clothes - a long coat of burnished gold, brown trousers, and soft leather boots - were all embroidered in gold thread, rich and quietly vibrant. 

       She didn’t understand who he was or where he had come from. It refused to click in her mind that he had actually been stuck in that wine bottle, tapping back to her. People didn’t come from inside bottles. That kind of thing only happened in myths and fairy tales - things that were only stories.

       Rising to her feet on legs still shaky, she kept her gaze on the man as she slid a foot back, thinking to make a quiet exit, unnoticed. Of course, with so much debris scattered about the room, something like a quiet escape was absolutely impossible. Before the edge of her shoe had moved even a few inches, it disturbed a shard of wood with enough force to send it scittering a few inches over the stone floor, breaking the silence only broken by his heavy breathing.

       Piercing yellow eyes snapped to her and she gasped at the intensity within their depths, frozen, a deer in headlights. He turned, stumbling to his feet, eyes still locked with hers, and dear god, she believed in fairy tales looking at him. His face was unnaturally beautiful, something someone had dreamed up rather than someone born. It spoke of marble sculptures carved in his image, of candlelight on silk sheets, and there was a depth to his eyes, something she couldn’t fathom, something that marked him as...inhuman.

       MC hadn’t realized that her jaw had dropped and she swallowed, opening her mouth to say something and choking on air. Before she could manage her way through anything even vaguely coherent, he surged forward, barely a centimeter in front of her in the blink of an eye. Yelping, she tried to jump back, but his arms were already around her, dragging her against his chest. She struggled fruitlessly in his grip as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, lips and nose nuzzling against the soft skin as he breathed deep of her scent.

       “W-What are you-? S-Stop!” she demanded weakly, the panic rising in her chest choking her pleas. 

       “Smells so good,” the stranger breathed, his voice hoarse from disuse, and pulled back just enough that he could peer into her wide eyes. He looked absolutely wild now, ravenous and uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, but I need your help, mademoiselle.”

       The hand around her shoulders grabbed a handful of her hair, gently moving it away from her neck. Her fingers clawed into his lapels as she stared at him, fearful and confused, prey in the arms of a predator. His face lowered to her neck once again and she shivered as his breath fanned against her skin. What was he doing?

       “Try to relax, ma cherie.”

       The unexpected pain of two fangs sinking into her made her scream, bucking in his unyielding hold as he took long drawls of her blood. 

       It was physical pain as well as mental pain, the pain of confusion and everything she’d thought she’d known about the realistic world cracking. Pain. And then pleasure. Pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced before, setting her entire body alight and turning her mind white.

       And that was how she met him, Le Comte de Saint-Germain, a starving vampire trapped inside a wine bottle for 100 years.

       She’d woken later with her head in his lap, the ghost of his touch on her cheek stirring her. The ceiling spun above her and MC groaned, turning into him and covering her eyes with an arm.

       “Shh, you’re okay, ma cherie. It’ll pass soon.”

       Her eyes flew open, met with an abundance of gold and yellow, and she shot upwards, falling on her side as the world spun again. Hands reached to steady her out of the corner of her vision, but she flinched away from them, remembering the strange pain and pleasure his bite had brought. 

       “Stop!” she bit out, and he did, hovering a few feet away from her. “Who are you and what did you do to me?!”

       He blinked at her, seeming to think for a second before answering with a gentle smile, “I am Le Comte de Saint-Germain, and...moments ago I was starving for your blood.”

       “Starving for my-” She shook her head, still confused and afraid. “What?”

       “I’m not human, as you might have guessed.” His tone was polite, but warm, friendly as he spoke to her. “I’m a creature out of your myths and folklore, a vampire.”

       And her day officially couldn’t get any weirder!

       There, sitting on the cold, stone floor and shredded rugs, Le Comte had told her his story, that he was an immortal vampire trapped inside a wine bottle by another of his kind who he’d once considered a friend. He had been the one to build the mansion and live in it, assimilating into human high society and traveling between countries for centuries until the event of his capture.

       When MC had asked him about how the mansion had appeared and disappeared, he’d answered that it was part of the curse placed on him, that none should have been able to find and release him. Even he didn’t know how she had managed to stumble upon it.

       She believed him, choosing to trust the earnestness in his gaze when he’d apologized for biting her in a fit of starvation, but it was still a lot to take in, and they just sat there like that, blinking at each other, for a good minute or so. He seemed just as curious of her as she was of him, a little disoriented too, but she guessed that was to be expected after being trapped in a wine bottle for a hundred years. Finally, she said, “So what happens now? What are you going to do now that you’re free?” What was she going to do? She couldn’t just walk away from this place like it had never happened, right?

       He hummed, chuckling as he gazed around at the ruin of his home. “Rebuild, I suppose; catch up on what I’ve missed in the past hundred years.”

       MC blinked, biting her lip as she contemplated the impact of what she was about to say. An hour ago, all she had wanted to do was get away from this place, to forget it and never see it again, but now her heart felt strangely heavy at the thought. If she left this place behind now, she would regret it, she could feel it in her bones. Could she be blamed for wanting to live out whatever fairy tale this was, just for a little longer?

       “I…” Those yellow eyes met hers again, and her fate was sealed. “I might be able to help you with that.”

        Thus began her relationship with an immortal vampire, visiting him every day with new technology and books on the modern age for him to catch up with. More than once, he returned to the city with her, eager and capable of exploring for himself. He adjusted surprisingly easily to the new time period and all the technological advances that came with it, but she guessed that was part of being immortal, having to adapt quickly to the change of time. 

       She didn’t know what magic he possessed, but every day the mansion looked a little better, damaged furnishings either replaced or repaired, broken windows whole again, even the hole in the ceiling of the entry was miraculously fixed when she came one day. The lawn and garden still needed a great deal of attention, but those could definitely wait, especially since Le Comte was still weak after his long entrapment.

       “Le Comte?” MC called as she pushed the door open. The mansion welcomed her like an old friend now, warmth and the faint smell of sandalwood wrapping around her as she stepped into the entryway. She’d come to look forward to these daily meetings, noticeably out of it to her friends and colleagues when work or bad weather kept her from making the trip.

       “Here, ma cherie,” she heard him call from somewhere up the staircase. He could’ve been anywhere in this massive place and she still would have heard his call - another magical feature of the mansion and its connection with its owner. 

       It was weird. It had been months since she had found the mansion and Le Comte, but already she could barely remember what her life was like before. Her happiest moments were spent here, with him, her days filled with the smell of chamomile that she’d come to know as Le Comte’s, and easing the tension in her shoulders from the stress of modern life. 

       But it was more than that too, so much more. 

       She wasn’t dense. She knew what it meant for her heart to flutter the way it did at the mere thought of him. Truly, she’d had no intent of pursuing anything more than friendship when she started helping him. What more could there be between a human and a vampire? It had all seemed like a fairy tale, the beautiful mansion and the equally beautiful man in the bottle, waiting for her to find them, but this story would not end in romance, she was sure of it...or at least she had been. 

       She’d tried to reason with herself at first, that it was just the allure of something new and strange and magical in her ordinary life, that it was just the natural attraction of a vampiric predator to his human prey, but when had reason ever convinced a love-struck heart? He wasn’t going to hurt her, she was sure of that, and there were plenty of nice men in her normal life that she could have chosen from if she wanted a change of pace. No, she was in love with Le Comte and there was nothing she could do about it, no forwards or backwards, no place for her love to go, so it bloomed quietly in her chest, growing with each affectionate smile he sent her way. 

       MC found him hanging a painting in the hallway, a landscape she remembered him asking her opinion on last week when they went into town together. It made her cheeks warm a little, remembering his approving nod when she’d told him she liked it. The long, pale yellow coat he’d adopted lay across the back of a nearby chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up, exposing pale forearms. It shouldn’t have made her blush, but to her shame it did, the sight of her crush’s bared skin making her feel like some pervert, excited by the least bit of exposed skin.

       “What do you think?” Stepping away from the painting, he dusted his hands off and she did her best to keep her eyes away from the elegant flex of his fingers. 

       “Looks nice,” she answered simply, turning her gaze to the painting and anywhere other than him. She could feel him looking at her, and she wondered what he was thinking, what was going on inside his head. 

       He hummed, pleased. “I bought it with you in mind.”

       “W-Why?” She didn’t know what to say. Lately, it was like each word he said to her was intended to make her heart pound.

       “I thought there should be something of you here.”

       Her cheeks were as good as on fire now, and she resisted the urge to reach up and press her cool palms against the heated skin. “I-I see.” She kept her gaze glued to the painting, staring but not seeing the whorls and colors that made up the bodies of two lovers entwined and hidden within the painting, not daring to look at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

       He didn’t respond, and the atmosphere suddenly felt too heavy, too many implications in his gaze, in buying this particular painting. Clearing her throat, she turned on her heel even as she spoke, “I’m going to go finish the cleaning I started in the kitchen yesterday.” MC cursed the way her voice swooped and dove, unwilling to settle on a tone and octave. 

       He chuckled and the sound warmed her to her bones. “Okay.”

       Her legs felt shaky as she made her way back down the steps and to the kitchen, blowing out a long breath as soon as she deemed herself far enough away from him. Mechanically, she pulled out the cutlery she’d been polishing the day before, her mind drifting as she did. Her heart felt shaky in her chest, fluttering and pounding and ready to run back up the stairs and throw itself into the hands of the vampire it belonged to. But she would do her best not to let it. 

       Falling in love with him was one thing. Starting a relationship with him was another. She couldn’t fully fathom what it would mean to be a vampire’s mate, what impact it would have on her human life, but she knew the cost would be immense. Besides, there was no telling if he even returned her feelings. He cared for her as any friend would - she knew that at least - and the affection he displayed was undeniable, but she refused to see it as anything more than platonic. Le Comte had already lived so much longer than her, and probably loved more than her too. Making assumptions would only lead to pain on both their parts.

       MC jumped, a noise of pain and surprise passing her lips, when her fingers slipped on the steak knife she’d been polishing, the sharp edge slicing the skin of her thumb. In seconds, a line of blood rose to the surface, gathering to drip down her skin in small drops. Hissing in pain, she turned to the sink, about to clean the wound, but she jumped when her attention caught on the sudden figure in the doorway. She hadn’t heard Le Comte approach, hadn’t even felt his presence, and how still he stood as he hovered in the doorway was immediately unsettling.

       “I wasn’t paying attention,” she tried to fill the silence, “I cut myself on one of the knives.”

       Still nothing from him, his gaze locked on her bleeding thumb.

       “Le Comte?”

       He seemed to startle out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, a shudder passing through him as he glanced up at her face before looking away entirely. His usual poise and grace was replaced by something hard, something sad. “You should leave,” he murmured, eyes shaded by his golden hair as he turned away from her, his movements stiff. 

       She blinked. “What? Why? I-”

       “Leave.” His voice was harder now, resonating with something that gripped her soul with icy claws. “Now.”

       So she did, helpless to disobey. Holding her bleeding hand, she ducked past him and hurried down the hall, through the door and down the path before her mind started to catch up. It hurt to be pushed away so cruelly by the one she loved, but she knew why he had done it, the memory of his fangs plunging into her neck months ago still a fresh reminder. He’d promised never to hurt her again, but he was still a vampire, surviving on blood. One slip up and...why didn’t the idea of him biting her bring her fear anymore?

       Her steps were small and slow as MC walked to the mansion the next day, tripping and stumbling more than once over roots and rocks she had always avoided easily before. She hadn’t slept well the night before, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, those golden eyes were there, inviting her closer. She had considered not even coming today, but she’d eventually decided otherwise after spending all day unable to focus and watching the sun near the horizon from her bedroom window. Something restless in her heart wouldn’t let her avoid him.

       “Comte?” she called, too softly, when she opened the door. The newly polished wood and iron gave way easily under her touch. No answer, but she knew he could sense her, just as the mansion could. 

       The mansion at night made her want to curl up in front of a fire, preferably in the arms of her loved one. The candles in their newly restored candleholders cast warm, golden light on the richly colored walls and paintings, and she tried to ignore the burst of heat in her chest as she passed the painting Le Comte had gotten for her. The lovers within the frame became especially apparent in the romantic light, hands and lips on naked flesh. 

       She continued to Le Comte’s bedroom, taking a deep breath as she lifted a fist to knock. Still no answer, and her brow furrowed, but just as she was about to grasp the knob she heard something shatter from inside the room. 

       “Comte?” A pained moan and her heart jumped into her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m coming in!”

       The glass shards lying across the floor were the least of her worries as she barged in, her attention falling on the man bent on the rug. A sense of deja vu settled over her, but before she’d taken even a few steps towards him one of his hands shot up, stopping her in place.

       “Why’d you come?” he grunted, his voice choked and dry. He didn’t give her any time to answer, continuing, “You shouldn’t be here.”

       “I came because I was worried,” she admitted softly, soothingly. “Comte, are you starving again?”

       “No!” The harsh edge to his tone made her jump, but she held her ground, digging her nails into her palm as she took another couple of steps towards him. He turned on her from his place on the floor, baring long, sharp fangs in a snarl. “Don’t come any closer!” 

       Maybe she should have, but MC felt no fear as she knelt in front of him, warm palm meeting his cool cheek. He stared at her, eyes shining with astonishment and hunger, sadness and longing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were starving?” she questioned, giving him a heartbroken smile. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Do you not trust me enough for this?”

       Heartbeats passed as he stared at her, and for a second she wondered if he had heard her through his ravenous haze, if he was already too far gone in his bloodlust. Finally, his lips parted and he whispered, “It’s not that.” He closed his eyes, drooping into her touch. “It’s not that.”

       Without a word, she reached up, undoing a couple of buttons on her blouse. His eyes still closed, Le Comte let her guide him to the crook of her neck, but as soon as the warmth of her skin pressed against his cheek, he jolted, tearing out of her hold and dragging himself back along the rug, away from her.

       “You know nothing!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what I want to do to you!”

       “Then tell me!” she pleaded, hands fisting in her skirt. “Let me help you!”

       “I want to bite you!” he cried, anguished that she didn’t understand even as his eyes glinted with a feral light. “I want to sink my fangs into you and fuck you until all of you is mine! Until you’re filled with me!”

       MC stared, frozen at his omission. Maybe she hadn’t known the extent of his hunger for her, what it fully entailed, but she would happily let him have everything he wanted of her depending on his answer to her next question.

       “Is it just because you’re starving?” she asked quietly. “Could anyone satisfy you right now?”

       His gaze locked with hers, weighing the question. He knew exactly what she was asking. “No,” he admitted, his voice hushed, and the tension in the room reached a climax. “Only you. I starve for your blood, your body, and yours alone.”

       “Then I don’t care,” she laughed breathlessly. Her heart felt like it was ready to beat out of her chest, and she couldn’t restrain her relieved smile as she met his wide-eyed expression. “Bite me...fuck me...and I’ll still love you.”

       A heartbeat later, she was lifted off the floor, weightless, and tossed onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress, sinking into the luscious pillows and blankets, before a solid weight settled over her. Grabbing her hands, Le Comte pinned them above her head, hot tongue leaving a wet trail against her neck. His hips settled between her legs, pinning her to the mattress as he teased the sensitive spot on the side of her throat with the tips of his fangs. 

       “Oh…” She writhed under him, skirt slipping up her thighs as she wrapped a leg around his waist. Her body still remembered how it felt to be bitten by him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat. “Please…!”

       “Abel,” he whispered in her ear, making her still for a moment. “I want you calling me by my real name as I claim you.” His fangs slipped so suddenly into her neck, she barely registered the pain before pleasure claimed her unprepared body, nerve endings set alight with sudden arousal. Her vision blurred and she might’ve screamed, but she didn’t know, too focused on the way his body was pressing into her suddenly oversensitive one as her blood flowed into his mouth. It was more powerful this time, whether made so by the sudden confession between them or his increased need for her, she didn’t know and didn’t care. All she could think of was the mournful emptiness in her core and the rush of release that ruined her panties as he continued to drink from her.

       When MC came to, she was naked, bare to him in the firelight. Her heart was pounding and her inner thighs were wet, slick with her cum. Le Comte...Abel...wasn’t on top of her anymore, his hands on her calves holding her legs apart as he knelt by her feet. She gasped silently, eyes widening, when she realized he was equally bare, every inch of him more gorgeous than she could have ever imagined as the firelight danced across his skin.

       “So beautiful,” he purred, kissing up the inside of her leg from her ankle to her thigh. “You were sent here just for me, weren’t you? Sent to free me, all for me to love.” She couldn’t answer, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her fingers into the sheets as he neared the apex of her thighs. “Mmm, you smell positively delectable, mon amour.”

       She yelped, fingers flying to his hair as his fangs burrowed into the soft skin of her thigh. It was more painful in a spot so vulnerable, but the pleasure after the pain was more intense too, making her writhe in his grip as another wave of release soaked her thighs. She mewled and panted as he took greedy gulps from her, laving his tongue lovingly across the bloodied skin when he’d had his fill. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks of a second orgasm, and she whimpered, too sensitive to his touch. Such rapture shouldn’t have been humanly possible, wasn’t humanly possible.

       “You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Abel moaned, eyes half-lidded as he peered up at her from between her legs. His hands ran up and down her legs, bending them at the knees as he crawled closer, hot breath fanning against her wet pussy. He took her in so greedily, so hungrily, she had to resist the urge to close her legs around him, to hide away from the intensity of his gaze. Never had anyone looked at her like that before, starving for her. 

       MC gasped his name breathlessly when his tongue licked a stripe along her slit, and he groaned at the taste of her arousal. “Absolutely soaked,” he purred, licking his lips. “I don’t believe I even need to prepare you for me.” 

       She trembled as he licked her again, yelping and bucking her hips into his face when his mouth wrapped around her clit. His grip on her hips held her still as his tongue delved inside of her, chin shining with her wetness as he slurped and moaned. Though she had never admitted it, this was what she had wanted for so long, her love reciprocated to the utmost. And as much as she wanted him to continue, she was already oversensitive from the intensity of her previous two climaxes. She wouldn’t be able to take much more without it becoming painful soon and she wanted him inside of her, filling and stretching and claiming her.

       “A-Abel,” she managed to say, her vision blurred with pleasured tears. “T-Too much. Too sensitive.”

       That’s what she said, but she still nearly cried when his tongue left her, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut to keep herself from shoving his head back between her legs. His warmth fell over her as he moved on top of her, soft lips kissing the corners of her eyes and trailing over her cheeks. She mewled when his hardened cock brushed her throbbing core, unintentionally teasing her. Even just brushing against her, she could tell he was huge, bigger than any human male could ever be.

       “Are you okay?” he murmured softly, and she nodded.

       Opening her eyes, MC cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss him with as much love and need as she could muster. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, “Make me yours?”

       Even though she’d already confessed so much to him tonight, Abel still looked at her with such amazement in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she was actually real and here with him. Placing his hand over hers, he closed his eyes, smiling into her palm. “I don’t deserve to...but it would be my honor.” He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to; the weight of mutual love and adoration that filled the space between them and his overjoyed smile against her skin said enough.

       Without wasting another moment, he reached between them and gently guided himself into her, hazy, lust-focused golden eyes peering into hers as a shudder wracked their joined forms. Her nails dug into his back, core squeezing around the pulsing length burrowing inside of her.

       “Relax, mon amour,” he whispered, nuzzling the soft spot below her ear. Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, she tried to relax the clenching in her lower stomach, gradually adjusting to the stretch. 

       “Please,” she whined, planting kisses across his chin and jaw. “Move.”

       The world she knew fell away, nonexistent. All there was was him and her and this place, wrapped up with velvet and warm firelight as her vampire made love to her.

       His thrusts into her were slow and forceful, the pleasure it brought rolling over her in spine-tingling waves. Her back arched, head thrown back to expose her neck to his hungry lips, as he held her against him. 

       “Perfect,” he moaned against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps on her flesh. “Absolutely perfect.”

       Her toes curled as he lifted her hips, changing the angle and hitting spots deep inside of her that made her see stars. Her arms laced around him, vice-like as she held onto him desperately. Each powerful stroke into her teased the edge of her climax, igniting her nerves, and the feeling of his mouth closing around the nipple of one bouncing breast made her scream.

       She writhed, helplessly grinding her hips to meet his thrusts as he sucked the hardened bud, teasing it with his fangs. His other hand pinched and rolled its twin, his thrusts turning harder as he fucked her into the mattress. He let go of her breast with a wet pop, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he moved up her chest, nipping at her collarbone for good measure.

       “Does it feel good?” he purred in her ear, honeyed voice dripping with sin. “Do you like the way it feels, my fangs in your throat and my cock in your cunt?”

       “Yes!” she cried, desperate. She wanted so badly to cum again, to reach her climax for the third time tonight. It was already so, so close. “Please - anhg! - Don’t stop!”

       He chuckled, warm breath fanning against her skin. “I don’t intend to.” His cock slammed into the sensitive spot inside of her, his hand reaching between her legs to find her clit. “Not until your body knows me and me alone.”

       She could feel the coil deep in her stomach starting to tighten, signaling her impending climax. “Haa...A-Abel! I’m - I’m close! Ah...more! Feels...ha...so good! I need more!”

       Something changed in him at her words, whatever control he had recovered after drinking her blood vanishing. Grunting, he grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed them against her chest. “Cum around my cock,” he coaxed, face alight with feral desire. The expression was unfamiliar on his gentlemanly face, but it still shot a pulse of heat straight to her core, making her squeeze around him. “Make me cum inside of you.”

       MC screamed, coating him in her release as he rammed into her, the new position sending her over the edge and into her climax. She sobbed, fluttering around his piercing cock as the blunt head pummeled her cervix, the slight pain making her orgasm all the more ravaging. 

       He groaned, thrusts turning sloppy as her core milked him, and with another few deep thrusts inside of her, he came, growling into her neck as he pulsed. She trembled at the feeling of his cum filling her, hot and thick and pooling somewhere deep inside of her as her eyes closed and her body turned weightless.

       She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until her eyes fluttered open, finding herself tucked under the covers and cuddled against a warm, bare chest. 

       “You’re awake,” Le Comte’s voice rumbled against her cheek, and she tilted her head to peer up at him as his fingers carded soothingly through her hair. “Are you okay?”

       “Yeah.” She blushed, noting the soreness and lingering warmth between her thighs. “It was just...intense.” The corner of his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk, and she kept talking before he could tease her. “Do you not sleep?” she said softly, reaching to tuck her arms around him in turn. 

       “I do,” he chuckled with a raised brow, relaxing into her embrace. 

       “Then why don’t you?”

       “...I’m almost afraid to sleep,” he admitted wryly. “Maybe this...meeting you...has all been a dream and I’m still stuck in that bottle.”

       Her grip on him tightened, snuggling him closer. She hadn’t known he’d felt this way, scarred by his time trapped and alone, but of course he would. He felt and processed experiences just as she did. Leaning up, she kissed him softly, feeling his arms pull her closer. “I’m real,” she murmured, holding his gaze, those brilliant golden eyes she had originally fallen so deeply in love with. “This is real, and I love you. I still don’t know how I was able to find this place, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

       “What did I do for God to send you to me?” His breathing stuttered and he said on a shaky exhale, “I’ve done things, things that pervert the rules of nature, things that I never want to tell you. How can I possibly deserve you?”

       “Hmm, do you love me?” She smiled, her heart feeling full enough to burst from her chest.

       “Madly,” he answered, without missing a beat.

       “Then we’ll work our way up from there. Just know that I can’t remember ever being happier than I have been here with you these past months.” Leaning up for a last kiss, she felt him smile against her lips. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

       There was still much to discuss, a whole dynamic to work out between them, but it could wait until morning. For now, they could sleep in each other’s arms, blissfully in love and ready to face the challenges that would come with each tomorrow.

       They had all the time in the world, after all.

[xuxishortcake]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you are an undercover agent, still fairly new at the job & on the search for two notorious con men, who might be part of a gang in the mafia. it's your job to figure out what's going on but oh my, are they more dashing than expected.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : switch!reader sub!jungkook dom!taehyung smut , cursing, forced into s*x , cream pie , fingering , blowjob , double penetration

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k

hello everyone! this officialy my second fanfic I've written, so pardon if there are any mistakes, grammar errors, etc. feedback is appreciated greatly! hope u love the fic!! ^_^

✧༺🍷༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

you wore a black suit that was nicely tailored to your body. you were driving around in San Francisco because you were assigned to work there for the day. all you knew so far was that you were after two con men who might've been involved in serious Mafia activity. you kept your ears on alert, waiting for more information from your agency. finally, you got an incoming call on your watch.

"hello?"

"hey y/n, it's seulgi. so I've found the house you need to go into, it's in the Presidio Hights neighborhood. I'll send you the full address. " *ding* came in the address & seulgi continued on. "the two men are Korean with the names Jeon Jeongguk & Kim Taeyhung. remember, be careful, we have no idea what these two are capable of, there's evidence pointing to them being in the Seo-bang Faction group."

"don't worry," your replied. " I might be one of the newer agents, but I've been taught well. "

"ok. we're counting on you. we have backup, but it'll take about 10minutes to get to the mansion since we don't want them to discover us. "

"gotcha. I'll call once I'm done." & you hung up the phone.

you pulled out the message with the address, put on your navigation system & started driving towards your destination.

thirty minutes later, you arrived & parked nearby the grand mansion you were to go inside of. you scouted far away with a special type of glasses to find an entry way. there was easy to open windows on the second story & you made your way to the mansion. going through the window, you stepped onto the plush, maroon colored carpet. finally inside, you walked as quietly as you could, your shoes were designed anyways to be as quiet as possible but it was better to be safe than sorry. it was surprisingly quite minimalistic with decor, the decor itself though being very ornate. you looked down the interior balcony. a grand set of marble stairs led up to the second floor & third floor. you started walking up to the third floor, there were some pretty expensive looking paintings leading up. finally reaching to the top, you walked down the long corridor. checking in each room if there were any signs of life. no luck. where in the hell were they? could it have been possible they knew somehow someone was coming & left? the final room you were about to check was the biggest, the master bedroom. the first thing you took notice of was the huge espresso colored canopy bed with a velvety crimson bed spread. there were also a few shelves with gold items & books on them. you looked through them all, to see if there was anything hidden but there was nothing. you checked in the huge bathroom, nothing. just a beautiful & large bathtub & joint sink. puzzled, you sat on top of the bed. you hadn't a clue what to do next. there weren't any new messages from the agency, so the two must've been in the house somewhere. you started to feel a sudden wave of drowsiness wash over you. was it because of the jet lag? no, this isn't normal. it was probably sleeping gas. you were now barely able to keep your eyes open & saw two figures walk into the room. {shit.} you thought, & blacked out.

what seemed to be hours later, you slowly started to regain consciousness. you were calling out to your watch to call your agency & nothing happened. you now realized you were tied to a chair & stripped of gadgets, weaponry & even your own clothes. you started to turn your chair around the room to find if there was anyone around. in came from the corridor & into the bedroom the two men you were supposed to find. they both were nicely tailored, as to be expected but the thing that had caught you off guard was their visuals. the two seemed to be in their twenties & were very, very good looking. they sat down onto a sofa that was across from you, both staring intently into your eyes.

"well," said the one with particularly long eyelashes "are you going to start talking or no? "

"yeah, we're not waiting all day for an answer. " vocalized the other, looking you up & down.

you felt absolutely mortified. not only were these men goddamn gorgeous, but you were only in the pair of black lace underwear that was concealed underneath your suit, which was now in a bundle in the corner of the room.

"I was sent here to investigate the two of you."

"by whomst?" asked the one with the long eyelashes.

you stayed silent. if these men were really part of the Seo-bang Faction group you could never let them know where you worked at, for your whole agency could be in grave danger.

"still not trying to talk hm? bring out the gun, jeongguk."

your eyes widened, trying to maintain a calm face. jeongguk went out of the bedroom. a few seconds later, he came back in with an old fashioned looking pistol, handing it over to taehyung. taehyung cocked the gun.

"now tell me, with WHOM are you working for? " he spoke watching intently.

"I'm not going to tell unless you tell me about yourself first." you retaliated.

"oh well, suit yourself." he pointed the gun & pulled the trigger.

your eyes we're closed shut & you were sweating bullets until you realized that you were still alive.

taehyung was chuckling. "oh my, you should've seen your face then, it was priceless i tell you, priceless."

"are you going to kill me?" you asked, clearly shaken.

"oh trust me, he could have" jeongguk interjected "we already knew someone was coming here, we just wanted to have some fun. there are no bullets in that so there wasn't any way to kill you with it. "

"aren't you concerned I'm trying to report about you two? your members of that gang no? "

"haha, no. I can assure you we are just simple, cunning assholes, who like to do frauds, maybe a few scams here & there, but we're not involved in some huge Mafia group."

"do you expect me to believe you?"

"yes, I guess. after all, what else can you do now that you're stuck here?"

"so...what do you want from me then?" you asked.

"like I told you, fun."

"what do you mean exactly? "

"to put it simple, a real fun, hot fuck. we haven't had one of those in a while. sure, you can get a prostitute & we have no problems getting any person that we want, but this, this is much more interesting. " jeongguk said smirking, crossing his arms.

"if you do it, we'll let you go. "taehyung added, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

what the hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? sure, you had been in difficult situations before, but not like this. this....what were you supposed to tell your agency? you were forced into sleeping with two men who were possibly in the mafia? there had to be another way out of it...

"listen, unless you have super powers & can magically weasel yourself out of very tight rope, there's no other way for you to get out of this. " taehyung said almost as if he could read your mind. "so is it a yes?"

you gave a slow nod.

"hmmm, ok great. well, not that you had much of a choice anyway but I promise you won't regret it. " taehyung stated confidently. "jeongguk, untie her."

& he untied you. rubbing your sore wrists, you looked up at the man who untied you. god, he really was good looking.

"so, what now?" you asked slowly standing up.

"we need to know three things." said jeongguk. "one, are you dominant or a sub, or both? two, what is your safe word? I know technically what we are doing isn't legal, but it's no fun if you're uncomfortable and lastly, three. can you take two cocks at once? "

"I'm a switch, & hell, I bet I could take two. for a safe word...." you looked around "gold."

"ok cool, let's get started then." jeongguk said while pushing you onto the bed.

taehyung stood up from the couch & walked over. the two now standing over your smaller frame, like two foxes staring at their prey hungrily.

"you suck on him." said taehyung pointing at jeongguk. "I'll take care of you."

jeongguk started to unfasten his belt & you, still on the bed turned so you were horizontal,in a dog position. only pants down, you palmed him through his boxers. you finally pulled them down & revealed his half hard on. he was in your hand & you gave a few quick strokes & took him in vigorously. he let out a low groan, you could feel him already growing in your mouth & started to move while you were sucking. he put his hand on your head, keeping you at a steady pace. meanwhile, taehyung was behind you, on the other side of the bed, palming your ass. the feeling of the cold rings on his fingers squeezing your flesh made you gasp. he traced his fingers over to your underwear & pulled them to the side. he ghosted over your slit, collecting some of your wetness onto his fingers. gently, he prodded a finger up your pussy. slowly moving it, in & out & added another one. you moaned, vibrating against jeongguk's cock.

"oh shit, do that again." he said head thrown back a bit, holding onto your head tighter.

taehyung inserted another finger; now three fingers were knuckle deep into you. you could hear how wet you were by the way your pussy was squelching. you had muffled moans for jeongguk kept your mouth full. you had difficulty not crumbling under taehyungs touch, his hands working like magic. he pulled out of you & you whined, desperately clenching around nothing.

"pull out." taehyung said to jungkook while licking off his fingers. jungkook nodded. "y/n was it? go put that brat in his place & do not let him touch you. "

taehyung walked over to a piece of furniture, rummaged around a drawer & came back with a blindfold & handcuffs.

"put these on him." taehyung said as he handed you them.

"aw shit really?? why can't I see?" jeongguk whined, giving a little pout & took off his top.

"because you were having a little too much fun over there. plus, you like being a sub anyways."

jeongguk & you went towards the headboard. you snapped on the handcuffs & tied the blind fold on jeongguk "don't worry," you whispered to him, starting to pull off your panties & bra. "I'll take care of you real good." & it sent shivers down his spine.

you positioned him to your entrance & sank down on him. you both moaned in unison , the stretch feeling incredible. his hips had already starting to move; you bounced up & down on him, hips sometimes twirling. you gave attention to his neck & started to lick & give damp kisses.

taehyung felt his hard on press tightly against his pants & started to undress. he went back to the same drawer from before & he brought out a bottle of lube & got onto the bed. he poured a considerable amount of lube onto his fingers & sat behind you. he took to your neck & started leaving kisses & bites on it, causing you to softly moan.

"do you need to be warmed up? or do you think you can handle me now?" he asked against you, stroking his cock in anticipation.

"I mmm think I can take you." you said, moving yourself a little so you were in an angle that he could get inside of you.

"can I have the blindfold off please? I really want to see this." jeongguk said, hips grinding up into yours.

"ok, take it off of him y /n." & you went & did as he said.

taehyung didn't waste any time, he moved his cock over your unoccupied hole,teasing you for a bit, & finally slid in. you moaned out loud, tears starting to form in your eyes. taehyung felt girthier whereas jeongguk was longer, you felt so full & it was wonderful.

"fuck." taehyung groaned against your ear "you're so damn tight." & started to thrust.

you & jeongguk didn't move as much anymore because you both could feel him thrusting into you. taehyung thought he'd take it up a notch & slapped your ass. you moaned out, surprised & had tightened around jeongguk.

"oh my god, I'm gonna cum." he cried out, thighs starting to shake a little.

"I only want you to come when she does. " taehyung said as he thrusted deeper & deeper into you, slapping your ass harder, winning another lovely moan out from you.

taehyung bent over you now & cupped one hand around your tit & the other snaked down to your clit. between the deep penetration in your pussy, the thrusting in your ass, one of taes hands playing with your nipple & the other rubbing circles on your clit, you felt your climax approaching you.

"oh fuck- I'm about to cum." you moaned out, barely able to stay in position, feeling as if you were about to break.

"go then. you can go now too jeongguk." taehyung said, his own thrusts starting to get sloppier.

you clenched around the both of them, moaning out. jeongguk moaned out right after you, finally releasing, shaking beneath you. which triggered a somewhat chain reaction & made taehyung release right after, filling you up to the brim with cum. the three of you rode it all out together. cum was dripping out your pussy & ass, glistening on both of their cocks. you all were panting on top of each other, taehyung pulled out & went to grab some tissues in the drawer of a night stand. you pulled yourself off of jungkook & unchained his hands from the bed. you flopped in the middle of the bed, chest heaving with probably the most fucked out looking face ever. taehyung cleaned the two of you off & then himself, then slid right next to you, eyes starting to close. 

you had no idea how long you slept for, but you could see that it was still light out. then you remembered you were supposed to let seulgi know if the two were suspicious. "shit!" you exclaimed & hurried out of the bed. you picked up your watch from the corner of the room & frantically searched her number to call her. she picked up.

"hello? y/n are you ok?" seulgi asked with concern. "you were off the radar for hours, we were about to send some people over because we weren't get any responses from you."

"oh, no no I'm fine! I think maybe I went offline since I didn't see any incoming messages until now. " you said as you tried to make up something.

"hmmm, that's odd. did you find out anything? "

"sadly no, there's no evidence of their involvement it seems like."

"well then, I'd suggest you leave. we have another place for you to check out. tell me once you're on the road."

"ok." you replied. "I'll talk to you later on." & you hung up.

you went back to the bed & realized taehyung was gone & jeongguk was awake. "you're leaving already?" he asked, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. he then reached his into the drawer of the nightstand & pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"yeah. I need to continue working or they'll think something is suspicious. " you said sliding into your pants.

"awe, that sucks. do you want one by the way?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"no thanks, I don't really smoke." you said, collecting all your stuff & putting it onto the bed.

"well, do you want some red wine maybe?"

you paused. "sure." & sat down next to him, taking the glass of wine he had on top of the nightstand.

"by the way, you were amazing. I don't think I've had that much fun in a good while. " he looked at you with his pretty round eyes, releasing a bit of smoke out of his mouth.

"thank you. I don't think I've ever had that much fun before, ever." you replied taking a sip of the wine. "especially with someone rumored to be in the mafia."

"yeah, pretty crazy isn't it? I don't think you expected any of this at all." he smiled. "we need to do this again, if you're up to it."

"I think I would be." giving him a little smirk. "it's not everyday you find two incredibly hot guys willing to be fuck buddies. I might have to fly back to San Francisco just to fuck. "

you heard footsteps approaching the room & finally saw taehyung, standing in the door way in a cream colored robe with a glass of red wine in his hand.

"so, you're finally awake." he said coming into the room. "how was it?"

"I liked it very much. I just told jeongguk I'll fly back to San Francisco just to fuck you guys." you giggled.

taehyung laughed, getting into the bed with you two. " I hope that is true because I'd love to do this again sometime. " wrapping an arm around you.

"definitely. I have to go now though." you said disappointedly. "I'm expected to continue working."

"hmmm, that's a shame." taehyung said sipping his wine. " I need to give you me & jeongguk's number."

"sure." you two exchanged numbers. "well, I've got to go sadly; wish I could stay longer. today was very enjoyable." you said, buttoning up your blazer.

before you walked out, jeongguk called to you "I hope you can come back! " he said, him & taehyung smirking. you smirked back, waved at them & left.

[mel-the-fangirl]

Wildest Dreams

Henry Cavill x Reader (inspired by the Taylor Swift song and music video)

Part Two: The Grand Illusion

Words: 2,418

Hey Cavillry! Sorry this took so long, I just have so many ideas and it’s not exactly the best idea to start them all at the same time, huh? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this part, don’t forget to read part one! Also, side note, I finished Night Hunter and I reaaaaally enjoyed it, I think I’ll be writing a Walter fic in the near future??

fic taglist: @andromedasstarship​, @januarystears​, @inlovewithhisblueeyes​, @legendarywizarddetective, @summersong69​

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"Cut! Beautiful work!" your director, John, rose from his seat and turned to you, "Miss Producer, what do you say? Can we pack up and finally see our families?" 

"You know what, Johnny?" you surveyed the tired faces of the crew and smiled at them, "Let's go home." 

Hats were thrown into the air and cheers erupted throughout your crew. Months of ungodly call times and extremely close encounters with the savanna’s more untamed residents have finally come to an end.

“Before we go,” you stepped on top of a crate to address everyone, “I’d like to say a few words. Thank you to everyone who has been present throughout the past months…”

Henry watched you from afar, leaning on one of the transport vehicles with his arms crossed. It wasn’t a secret that the two of you had formed a relationship during your time there. Nights spent in each other’s rooms, hands in your hair, clothes strewn on the floor, whispered conversations about dreams unrealised.

It was dangerous, how much he felt for you. Just seeing you now, commanding the room with the kind of charisma and charm only you had, a pang settled in his heart. But he couldn’t dwell on it for long.

You squealed giddily and propelled yourself into Henry's strong arms. Never have you seen anyone look so ruggedly handsome in just a t-shirt and safari pants.

Your thumb caressed his stubbled cheek and pressed a tender kiss onto his lips, one that wasn't for the cameras.

They could write pages and pages of love songs based on the way he looked at you and that alone. You flourished underneath his loving gaze, feeling like you were walking on air.

"Go on and get dressed, darling. I've got one last surprise before we go home." he kissed you once more, winked, then returned to his trailer

Your cheeks were sufficiently flushed. Before we go home he said. 

Did he mean it that way? Surely he didn’t. It hadn’t even crossed your mind how things would be like when you returned to America, was it so terrible that you were imagining houses with white picket fences?

Goodness, this was nothing like you. You straightened your blouse and marched over to your own trailer, trying to shake it off.

A few outfit deliberations later, you settled on a lovely pale blue palazzo jumpsuit, a matching headscarf, your signature white oval-framed sunglasses which you made popular, as far as you were concerned, and vibrant red lipstick.

You met Henry in a clearing not too far away from where you were staying. 

"Well, well!" you marveled at the imposing aircraft in the middle of the field and you marveled even more intently at your handsome pilot,

"Just how did you manage this?"

He scooped you up in his arms and you decided that from then on, your favourite scent and view would be Henry in his leather aviator jacket. 

"Darling, I figure I can manage just about anything just as long as it's for you."

“You flatter me, Mr. Cavill.”

Henry stepped away from you, propped a foot up on the little lift and held a hand out for you to take, “Shall we, gorgeous?”

“We shall.” you took his hand and let him help you into your seat

“Ready?” Henry asked from his seat behind you, rubbing your shoulder with a gloved hand

You placed your hand on his and shot a thumbs up in the air, enthusiastic as ever.

“That’s my girl.” he chuckled, guiding the plane down the makeshift runway

Once safely in the air, you reveled in its warmth caressing your cheeks, the deafening roar of the engines downsized to a somewhat pleasant hum. Would it be inappropriate to shut your eyes for a bit? In an open plane a few hundred feet above ground?

“Y/N, down there! How marvelous!”

The sound of Henry’s voice snapped you back to the present and when you opened your eyes, your breath hitched in your throat.

You supposed flying was something you would never get used to. The clear sky was a shade of blue you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, the clouds were white and wispy and you longed to reach out your hand and feel them.

"Down there, Y/N!" Henry urged you again

Once you did as he said, you realised why.

Below you, racing across the vast, sun-drenched grass was a pack of lions. The joy you felt was indescribable, seeing these powerful creatures roaming free, untouched and undisturbed by human intervention.

"Incredible.” you breathed, looking back at Henry 

Once Henry had landed the plane, rather flawlessly, you'd say, a car was already waiting to bring you to the lodge where he had arranged for you to stay.

“I do admire an organised man.” you complimented breathily, batting your eyelashes at him for theatrics

“Alright, alright.”

His tone was dismissive but you were sure you could see the blush spreading on his cheeks. Henry bent down and swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal-style towards your ride.

"This is just glorious!" you took off your headscarf and shook your hair out as you waltzed around your suite

It was a stark contrast to the suites you usually took up residence in. Gone were the stuffy imitation French furniture and tacky wallpaper, in its place was rich, dark wood you were positive you wouldn't find anywhere else and a clean white canopy bed with cozy earthy neutral toned cushions, you thought everything was simply ethereal, but the cherry on top was undoubtedly the view from your balcony.

You stepped on, the gentle sunlight soaking into your bare feet and filling you with a kind of vigour and appetite for life completely different from the one you felt when you were doing your job. You surveyed the scenery ahead, rays of afternoon sunshine peeking through the tall branches of trees that resembled something from another world.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Henry’s deep voice materialised in your ear, his hands resting on your hips

“Absolutely.” you replied, twirling around to place your lips on his

Heat rose to your cheeks and further down south as your tongues met, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined. You broke away for a fraction of a second, taking it all in.

If there was anything your life has taught you thus far, it was the heavy handed importance of hard work and resilience, nothing else would get you very far. You didn’t believe in luck.

But as you stood there surrounded by all the beauty nature had to offer, Henry cradling your face with nothing short of devotion and admiration in his eyes, it was hard not to change your mind.

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“I think I may be falling in love with you.”

He looked absolutely stunned and to be honest, you were as well. This was uncharted territory for you. The number of flirtations and affairs you’ve had throughout your time in Tinseltown was much more than the tabloids could even guess but they were just that and nothing more.

But with Henry?

Before you could even anxiously retract what you had just said in fear of rejection, Henry pulled you towards him and pressed his lips firmly to yours. Somehow, everything he had failed to say was imbued in each searing kiss, each squeeze on your hips.

Nothing much was said for the rest of the day and well into the night.

The morning after, you found yourselves on a nature hike. Having heard from locals of a magnificent waterfall nearby. The pair of you trekked your way through the rocky crest of the waterfall, your finish line was a series of boulders, each one stacked by increasing height. You wanted to get to the biggest one, you were positive the view was spectacular from up there. 

“Darling, are you sure you’d want to-”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy, Henry!” you yelled, slipping away from his grasp and vaulting over a rock

“Be careful, Y/N, Jesus!” he yelped, nearly losing his balance

Your laughter cascaded down with the rushing water. You ignored how your muscles were beginning to strain with the effort of climbing each boulder as carefully as you could but you got the job done, overlooking the glittering water below and the surrounding wildlife.

“God, this place is beautiful.” you marveled just as Henry finally joined you at the top

“How in God’s name did you get up here so fast?” Henry panted, placing his hands on his knees in an effort to catch his breath

“Well, maybe all of those muscles are purely for decoration.” you commented, unashamedly appreciating his physique as he glistened with sweat

He arched his brow at you, seemingly perfecting your trademark move. “Oh, is that so?”

You squealed as he hoisted you into his arms, then in a display of strength, lifted you over his shoulder.

“Purely for decoration, eh?” he laughed, descending from the boulder with you still draped over his shoulder

"Put me down this instant!" you chortled, all arms and legs as he waded deeper into the warm water

"Sorry, what was that? I can't hear you." 

"I said, put me down!" you firmly clamped your teeth down on a portion of his back

"Ow! Okay, okay. Hold on."

Henry set you down in the water gently, keeping his hand on your hips, looking at you mirthfully.

"Madame Y/L/N," he tutted, shaking his head, "Did you just bite me? Not very ladylike one would say." 

"Oh, boo hoo." you stuck your tongue out at him

“Getting cheeky are we?” Henry lunged at you, causing water to splash everywhere

You dodged just in time, appearing behind him and lifting yourself onto his back. He secured your legs and began to run as fast as the water would let him.

“Ride, my noble steed! Ride!” you yelled into the wind

There was nothing on the face of this earth that could ever make you feel as you did in that moment ever again, you were sure of it. At that moment, you were the happiest you have ever been in your entire life. That feeling would never be replicated.

You swam and horsed around for as long as your muscles would let you, when they finally ached too much, you found yourselves on the tallest boulder again. The sun had just begun to dip into the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in a million different colours.

No words could even begin to do justice to the miracle before you. Henry held you tighter in his arms and pressed an earnest kiss to your temple, you felt his shoulders fall as he let out a heavy sigh.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked, turning around to face him

The perfect happiness you felt just seconds before evaporated as you set eyes on his crestfallen expression. You lifted his chin up with a finger and offered him an encouraging smile, “What’s the matter, my love?”

He had no answer for you at first, turning away to gaze pensively at the sunset. All you could do was admire the way the shadows highlighted his strong jawline, you traced over it with your finger.

“Y/N,” Henry began, “Our time here together, it’s been the greatest of my life,”

Oh, thank God. You thought it was going to be something horrible!

“I feel the exact same way, Henry. It’s been heaven.” you reached forward and hugged him with all you had

You expected him to hug you back as he always does, but this time, he detached your arms from him, That’s when you had the sinking feeling that your relief may have been a bit premature.

“Please. I must tell you something. And as I say this, I beg of you to remember how happy we were here, how much we understand each other and enjoy one another’s company.”

Despite the fact that this was the most serious you have ever seen him, you still didn’t catch on to the fact that something was about to go very wrong.

"Now, come on, darling!” you chirped, “It can't be that bad! We can manage anything as long as we're together, can't we?" you stared into his eyes for any hint of reciprocation

When you found none, your heart began to pound against your chest. The silence that followed was unbearable, it was like waiting for your turn at the gallows but when he finally said what he wanted to say, you might have actually preferred the silence.

"I'm engaged to be married. And she is pregnant. With my child."

His words felt like a bucket of ice poured over your bare skin. You shot up and stared at him in utter disbelief. 

“If this is your idea of a joke…” your feeble attempt at denial was met with a shake of his head

He had the audacity to look ashamed. Ashamed! The nerve.

This certainly was not your first brush with a situation like this. It was foolish of you to have thought of this dalliance as different from all the other ones. Men were all the same. It didn’t matter how longingly they looked at you or how many godforsaken times they brushed your hair tenderly from your face, they all wanted the same thing.

Jesus, was it always so damn cold here?

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, feeling much too exposed in your bathing suit. Henry stood up and made a move to put his arms around you.

“I’m alright, thank you.” you said curtly, stepping away from him

His arms fell to his sides in an instant and he looked to you pleadingly, “Y/N, please. I never meant to hurt you, it is the last thing I wanted. It isn’t what you think.”

“I think!” you interjected, your voice becoming shrill as the usual string of overused lines flowed from his heavenly mouth. “I think you are quite the actor, Mr. Cavill and it has been a pleasure to see your methods up close.”

With that, you climbed down the rocks as fast as you could without hurting yourself and took off in the direction of your lodge. You ignored Henry calling out your name, you ignored the rough tree branches leaving scratches on your arms, and most of all, you ignored how the illusion of you and Henry shattered into a million pieces.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {2}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Previous Chapters: {1} | 

Chapter Two

 You were running around in a whiteout snowstorm. There was no way to see in front or back of you. Your hands were your eyes, and even they were doing a pretty lousy job. A strong gust of find flew you to the right, then to the left before it hurled you forward. It sent you so hard to the ground your entire body shook from the fall. It was the most challenging feat to get back to your feet, and when you did, another gust of wind sent you into a pole.

 As you gripped it, you held on for dear life and prayed that somehow you’d made it through this. As you held on, you recognized that none of this felt real. It felt strange. The pain you were in was real, beginning with the throbbing in your head, the burning of your muscles throughout your body, and even the tightness all through your entire being.

 When your hands gave out, you began falling to the snow-covered ground. Before you made contact with the ground, a pair of strong arms caught you and pulled you into their body. As soon as they did, you felt like the storm around you disappeared. The howling wind slowed, the blinding snow stilled, and the bone-chilling cold turned to instant warmth. Once you’d adjusted, you looked up; your eyes trailed over a strong, defined jawline, smooth skin, and piercing blue eyes.

 You recognized this man. Although you were watching his lips move, you didn’t hear anything. No words, only the sound of white noise. Your fingers touched his lips, then slowly traced his cheek and down his jaw, but you felt as if you weren’t touching anything at all. That was when his voice came into focus.

 “I will protect you. I will keep you safe.”

 He looked as if he meant it, looked like no matter what, come what may, he would keep his word. Suddenly a strong blast of wind began pulling you from him, but he held on tightly to you. Even when the wind picked up, he wouldn’t let go. Thanks to the heavily falling snow that fell over your clasped hands, after a few moments, you felt your grip slipping. Panic filled you but looking at him; he looked as calm as ever.

 “I will always find you.”

 With that, the wind took you away, pulling you into a dark abyss. That was when you screamed, jumping up while flailing your arms and legs. It took almost a minute to realize your surroundings were no longer snowed out and dark. Slowly you calmed yourself, then dropped back onto the bed. Once you’d caught your breath, the sight above you had your eyes bugging. With your arms pressed to the bed on either side of you, your jaw dropped.

 Above you was a white ceiling with embossed and engraved drawings etched into it with an enormous golden chandelier dangling in the center. You nudged your head back slightly to take in the golden decorative border that ran around the canopy of the bed. That was when the headboard caught your eyes. Cream tuffets that were embellished with gold-framed the Brocard design of the cream and deep turquoise headboard. Slowly you sat up, and the intricacies of the posts of the bed came into view. It looked like someone had hand-carved and painted the golden designs onto it. You wondered how long it had taken and just how much this cost.

 The more your eyes took in as you scanned the room, the wider they got. Turquois, cream, and gold seemed to be the theme of the room, and it was all done so exquisitely well that you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty around you.

“Oh my god.”

 Looking to your right, you examined the comfortable looking settee and the large vase and the decorative plant and flower mixture it held.

 “Where the hell am I?”

 There was no way this was the inn. The last you remembered, there was nothing but wood there. You slid to the edge of the extra-large king-sized bed and placed your feet on what you expected to be cold marble, but it was warm. Heated floors, you thought to yourself.

 You stood, but sudden dizziness had you dropping right back to the bed, clutching your head.

 “Ouch!’

 Feeling pain, your alarms went off. You didn’t know what had happened, where you were, or why you were in pain. You could hear footsteps approaching the door, and your panic rose exponentially. You quickly scanned the room looking for anything you could use as a weapon, worried you were held in some creepy eastern European rich man who wanted you to participate in round four of the human centipede experiment.

 Seeing nothing in your nearby vicinity, you zeroed in on a large vase across the room on a cream and gold dresser. Gathering whatever strength you had, you staggered toward the dresser, damn near crashing into it. As you gripped the edge of the dresser, hoping to stabilize yourself, it was then you realized that what you wore was not yours. It was some dainty nightgown that looked like it could have belonged to Mari Antoinette.

 The footsteps got louder, and you grabbed the vase. It was a lot heavier than you’d anticipated, and you had to half sit on the dresser even to hold it. As soon as the door opened, there stood a middle-aged woman in a blue skirt suit with a white scarf around her neck that was tied in the posh way the rich usually did them. Not giving her an opportunity to make a move, you flung the vase at her with all your might. As it collided with a chair not too far from you, it shattered with such loudness it started you and the middle-aged woman.

 “Dear me!”

 With that, she slammed the French doors shut. You heard her heeled footsteps scurrying away. Though you didn’t feel any stronger, you decided not to wait around for someone else to come back. You staggered across the room to the doors that were just slammed, making sure to avoid the shattered pottery on the floor. You hadn’t missed all the pieces because you felt the sharp stab of a shard enter your foot bottom.

 “Fuck!”

 You hopped, then collided with the door. Your dizziness returning tenfold. Taking a few seconds for the room to stop spinning, you then bent to access your foot. Being on one only made your balance worse. You quickly pulled the shard from your foot and ignored the gush of blood that came from the wound. It would take hours for any bleeding from the foot to be life-threatening. You needed to get the hell out of there.

 Flinging open the French doors, you walked out into an opulent sitting area with several dark blue and white chairs decorated around the room and a roaring fire against a wall.

 “What the fuck!”

 Ignoring the equally beautiful room as the one you’d just left, you staggered toward the door of that room. Once you flung that open, you entered into a large hallway with a long corridor. The walls were impressively decorated with plenty of photographs and paintings, and the ceiling above you had more of that embossed and engraved design. It was then you continued walking at a much faster pace. You could have been going toward danger for all you knew.

 “Ma’am!”

 You looked behind you and saw the same woman from before, but now she had two men that were dressed in suits, and the three of them were dashing toward you. In true survival of the fittest instincts, you took off running as well. If someone was chasing you, you ran. You didn’t stand there or ask questions, especially as a black woman. Turning the corner, you continued to run on shaky legs and with blurry vision without knowing where you were going. Glancing back, the three were still chasing you and shouting for you to stop, but you didn’t.

 When you turned around, you ran smack dab into someone carrying a trey. As you collided with them, the trey went one direction and the individual another, still you didn’t stop. Thanks to the collision, your dizziness had returned, slowing your steps, making them sloppy, shakier, and zig-zagged. You knew you were seconds from blacking out, but you pushed yourself more.

 “Stop, miss, stop!”

 Everything sounded muffled. Suddenly you heard a louder sound break through the muffled and mumbles mess. You looked back, and the three pursuers had stopped. When you turned back, you ran into a hard body, but you didn’t fall. They held you firmly. You peered into familiar eyes, eyes that were filled with concern and alarm. His mouth was moving, but you heard no words. With his eyes seared into your memory, you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

 -Henry-

Every five minutes or so, his phone rang or sent off a notification. Every five or so minutes, he pressed silent on every one of them. This has been going on for the last two hours. He’d sat in the sitting area first as the doctors accessed her and tended to her wound. For that hour, he was able to do some work. Though his mind was somewhat occupied, he had to put on the façade, he was his usual self.

 After the first hour, he’d moved to the bedroom suite to sit beside the bed. The doctor reported that you were suffering from delirium, a common diagnosis for someone who’d suffered a concussion. His orders were for as much rest as possible in a low-stress environment. When Dr. Alfonzi emphasized a low stressful environment, he’d wanted to roll his eyes. What was more stress-free than where you were right now?

 Now alone having answered over fifty emails and messages, he’d found himself with a sliver of downtime. Heaven knew how long that would last. His eyes drifted to your still form in the bed. You were securely tucked underneath the covers. You looked peaceful as if you hadn’t been through possibly the most harrowing experience of your life. The only outward evidence of that experience was a patch on your forehead that concealed the nasty gash he knew was there.

 Slowly he scanned your face, taking in your beautiful and exotic features. The shape of your eyes, the flare of your nose, how well defined your lips were, and how supple your skin appeared to be. His fingers itched to touch your cheek again as he had in the bar. At the thought of the bar, your first meeting, he drifted back to the memories and fondly smiled, remembering your friendly banter, the ease of the conversation, and all the relaxation he felt with you. It was rare for him to even begin to let his guard down to let anyone in, but with you, for those two or three hours, he was tempted to as he’d never been before. he even told you a few things he wouldn’t have told anyone else.

 Sighing, he pulled his eyes away, but his head quickly went to the debacle in the halls of the palace. He hadn’t expected to see you when he turned the corner, but he wasn’t disappointed. To be truthful, he’d thought about you on and off during all his morning meetings. The plan was if he had time in the evening, he’d check on you. When you passed out into his arms, the nightgown you wore captured his attention. He would have questioned who the hell put you in it, but the sight of peeks of your skin underneath the flimsy material held his attention instead.

 As he carried you back to your room, he had to work extra hard not to look down and skim your body or the darkened areolas he’d glimpsed. When he slipped you back into the bed before the help placed the covers over you, he saw a peek of your backside that sent his hips thrusting forward quickly. The memory of it had him changing his position in the settee before getting up altogether to pace your room. He’d chosen it without giving it much thought. It was the first one he found. Now he felt you probably could do with a different one.

 Your moans startled him, bringing him out of his thoughts. As he approached the bed, you turned your head from side to side as your moans became more and more audible. It didn’t take long for him to wonder if your carnal moans sounded like this or if they were different. He shook his head while mentally chastising himself for the thoughts, then focused back on you.

 When your eyes opened, he did his best not to appear intimidating. It was a common comment among the feedback that was sporadically collected from the citizens. Your eyes focused on him after quickly scanning your surroundings. When you realized he was there, you quickly shot up and hurried back to the headboard. He noticed the covers remained across your lap, leaving your upper half exposed to his eager eyes. Groaning, he closed his eyes.

 “Calm down,” he said as he motioned to the covers.

 He waited a few moments, hoping you’d understood what he meant. When he opened his eyes, you held the covers over your chest but also held the lamp that was on the bedside table in your left hand. Raising his hands into the air, he took a step back.

 “Let us not do something brash, Y/N.”

 Confusion flickered across your features, and for a split second, you lowered the lamp but rose it again.

 “How do you know my name?”

 Raising his eyebrows, he thought of how to breach the topic. “We met in the bar. Do you remember?”

 You scrunched your face, looking away to your right. He wondered if you were also suffering from memory loss.

 “You sat beside me and arrogantly tried the Mistletoe Bomb that you could not even finish and had me finish it instead.”

 “It was disgusting. Wait, I do remember.”

 He nodded but kept his hands in the air, hoping the action gave you peace of mind.

 “Good. What else do you remember?”

 You bit your bottom lip then stared at the sheets on the bed. You remained silent for about a minute, then you spoke.

 “We—talked. Then—we almost—did we--,” you stuttered then shook your head. “Then I left. It was cold, a lot colder, and the snow was heavy. I could barely see, it was next to impossible, and the wind it took me everywhere. Then—I don’t—I don’t know.”

 You looked at him again with even more confusion in your eyes then before.

 “Yes,” he began before he cleared his throat. “I am afraid the wind must have blown you into the street right before my car came along. It seems we accidentally hit you.”

 You looked as if you were trying to remember, but you sighed and lowered the lamp to the bed rather than back to the side table.

 “I am awfully sorry, Y/N. My driver did not see you until it was too late. He swerved, but we still collided with you due to the drift over the snow. When I got to you, you were unconscious, so I brought you here to receive medical care.”

 Your eyes shot up to him then.

 “Medical care? Am I in the hospital? This doesn’t look like any hospital I’ve ever been in.”

 He cleared his throat, lowered his hands, then rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that bringing you here would make it next to impossible to keep the truth of his full identity hidden.

 “That is because you are not in the hospital.”

 “Then—where am I? have you dragged me somewhere and locked me up for your sick perverse pleasure?” As you said the words, you rose the lamp again, ready to throw it at him.

 Again, he rose his hands. He knew you didn’t know that the lamp wouldn’t do anything if he really were a threat.

 “Perverse pleasure? Are you implying that I would find pleasure in you?” He leaned against one of the posts as he smirked.

 You rolled your eyes and kissed your teeth.

 “Of course you would. I know I’m a dime piece.”

 Understanding the terminology, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I agree.”

 You didn’t speak right away, you stared at him, and he wanted to know what you were thinking so badly. This was the third time he’d seen this look, and it ticked at his curiosity to know you more. He cleared his throat and straightened himself.

 “I assure you, I have not whisked you off to hold you captive for any pleasure than your health and safety.”

 You took him in for a few moments but kept the lamp raised.

 “Where am I?”

 “My home.”

 Your eyebrows rose as you looked around the room. No doubt, taking in all the luxury around the room. He knew the question was coming.

 “Home? What kind of—where the hell--,” you began before you were interrupted by a knock at the door.

 He sighed, then spoke. “A moment, please. Come.”

 “Your highness,” Audrina began as she gave a brief curtsy. “The physician brought the medication for the patient.”

 She approached, holding a tray that held a lone bottle. Once she was close, he took the bottle, thanking her.

 “Hold the fuck up.”

 Audrina paused with her eyes wide open, taking you in. Pinching his lips, he tried to stifle the laugh that was ready to escape.

 “Good word, such language.”

 Snorting, he released a chuckle.

 “Me? You just said, highness. What is that? Why did she call you that?”

 You gasped loudly with your eyes the size of saucers. “Oh my god. Are you—are you--.”

 “That is all, Audrina, thank you.”

 She nodded, gave another curtsy, and walked from the room. Once the doors were closed, he approached the bed slowly and cautiously. He didn’t want a lamp to the face.

 “I was not entirely forthcoming with you the night in the bar,” he began.

 “You lied about who you are?”

 “No, not completely. My name is Henry. I evaded telling you what I did for a living. Goodness, I guess I will just come out with it then. I am Henry, but I am also—Prince of Brexendor.”

 Your face was stuck in a mixture of shock and horror. Now more than ever, he wanted to know what you were thinking. A minute ticked by, then two, and each minute that passed, your expression became more and more pronounced.

 “A—you’re a—p-prince?”

 There was another knock at the door to increase his frustrations. He didn’t respond right away, he watched you, waiting for you to speak, but another knock came before your words did.

 “Your highness?”

 He sighed then told them to enter; in walked Dr. Alfonzi . He bowed, then approached the bed.

 “How is our patient?”

 Their eyes trained on you, but you didn’t speak. Dr. Alfonzi looked at him, unsure of what to say.

 “Your highness, unfortunately, I am going to have to ask you to step out so I can talk with the patient.”

 He nodded. “Of course. Will it be all right if I came by in an hour or two?”

 You didn’t respond for quite a while, but you slowly nodded as he began to turn. Dr. Alfonzi bowed again as he passed him and walked out of the room. Once he entered the sitting area, McArthur stood and bowed his head.

 “Your highness, is the lady well?”

 “We go. We have to make it across town to the magistrate,” he said instead of answering his question.

Once he was in the car, he went over the documents in prep for the meeting he knew would take everything out of him. Every time he encountered Prime Minister Lancaster, the exchange always left him agitated and in need of a drink and solitude. There was something about the man that went past his defiance and terseness that rubbed him the wrong way.

 “Your highness. I hope you extended my apologies to the lady for hitting her with the car,” McArthur inquired.

 “Does it matter? When you saw us in the bar, you made it clear you thought I should not have allowed her to stay. Had a change of heart?”

 “As your driver, protector, and friend, I was simply looking out for your best interest, sir. Outsiders have proven themselves as untrustworthy in the past.”

 He nodded as he remembered the incident he was referring to, then cleared his throat. “I did not get to apologize for you, but I made sure she understood it was an accident.”

 He stared out the window at the falling snow and his country. That still didn’t feel natural to say. Yes, it was his country of birth, but everyone wanted him to now look at it as belonging to him. he wasn’t ready yet. It still felt too soon. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize when McArthur pulled up to the Magistrate buildings. After taking a few deep breaths in an effort to steel himself, he walked out, ready for yet another contentious meeting.

As he passed his constituents, they bowed or curtsied, showing their respect for the crown and him. He nodded his head to each of them, an equal show of respect. A monarchy was nothing without the people it governs. It was the first lesson his father had taught him.

 “Your Highness,” Prime Minster Lancaster addressed once he was a few steps away.

 He watched the older man bow deeply. When Lancaster rose, he saluted him as the respected soldier he was, as well as Crown Prince. He took the man before him in not in any rush to give him the approval to lower his salute. Sometimes he liked to remind the man he was in charge and not the other way around.

 “At ease, Prime Minister.”

 Lancaster clenched his jaw and stood to his side, granting him access to the conference room. He listened to the quiet council of Alton, his royal advisor, as he gave notes about the meeting as everyone filed into the room. Once they stood before their seats, waiting for him to sit first, he did just that. Finally seated, he banged the gavel against its golden holder.

 “Let us begin,” he said, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

 This time of year, the many plans and discussions involved Christmas and the year’s many festivities. When it came to talking about those festivities, money was always brought up. He was all about keeping traditions alive because Brexendor was made of traditions, but he also believed that it had to seek to advance itself in order for the country to survive another turn of the times.

 Brexendor was considered a very wealthy place, and there had been many who had tried to usurp its wealth, thinking it was a weak country only to find out that Brexendor was not only wealthy but powerful and strong with one of the best defense systems. He’d spent years in the armed forces learning all the ins and outs of said defenses, all in prep for the day he would take the throne.

 Every time he brought up plans to modernize Brexendor, Prime Minister Lancaster always objected, citing that changing now would wash away the countries rich history. When he made this argument, he always appealed to the many elders who held other important magistrate seats. Once that happened, he knew his argument would fall on deaf ears, and with the instability that was already present in the monarchy, he couldn’t risk shaking their faith in him. Not right now.

 After discussing other matters that were essential to Brexendor’s flourishment, the meeting came to an end. When he got into the car, the glance at his watch told him as expected; it was a meeting that took up the majority of his evening. He had to figure out a way to bring the other magistrate members to his side in order to get things done. Lancaster was old. He had no idea what it would take to keep Brexendor a superpower as the world changed with even more modernization. He knew he was right.

By the time he got back to the palace, it was almost ten o’clock. He’d missed dinner, but that wasn’t what he cared about. He dismissed his immediate staff, assuring them he could tend to himself for the evening, and proceeded to his room. Before he took too many steps, he stopped knowing that his room was in the opposite direction from yours. Glancing at his watch again, he tried to decide if it was a good idea to visit you at this time. He knew the palace had eyes, and he knew he would be noticed going into your suites at this hour. Not wanting to set tongues wagging, he sighed and proceeded to his room.

 Tomorrow was another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 45

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

“Last stop of the tour…” Klaus said as he pushed a door open and motioned Katie inside. “Our living quarters.” He shut the door behind her. “I know it’s a bit bare at the moment, but we can redecorate it however you like.”

“In case you couldn’t tell by my somewhat plain house in Mystic Falls, I’m not much on decorating. All I need to make a living space functional is a bed, wireless speakers, a desk, and you.” she ticked the things off on her fingers then grabbed his shirt and pecked him on the lips.

“I don’t want it to just be functional, I want you to feel at home here.” he told her as he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to look at the three rooms laid out in an L shape, all connected by square framed archways with two windows at the top and painted with white paint that was chipped and cracked. “Take a look around.” The first room contained nothing but a white, wood framed fireplace. The second room contained a simple brown leather couch and a plain oval dark wood coffee table that sat adjacent to another fireplace that matched the one in the first room. The couch and table faced an exterior wall with an arched, windowed door with shutters that led out to a private balcony. A tall window sat on each side of the door.

The third room shared the exterior wall and had three windows. A dark wood bed was in the room with a brand new mattress still wrapped in plastic on it. Its high backed head board sat against the middle of the back wall. On the wall across from the windows was a door that led to a large walk in closet. To the right of the head board was another door that led to a luxurious master bathroom complete with a deep claw foot tub and glassed in shower with three different showerheads.

“These were my quarters.” He told her from where he stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist and his chin on her shoulder. “I want to make them ours, but I will not know how to achieve that unless you tell me. Even if it’s a simple suggestion like antique white furnishings and a canopy bed centered on a white plush rug.”

“I really just threw out the first thing that came to my head.” she said with a laugh. “You’re the one that waved your magic wand and turned it into something out of a freaking Victorian fairy tale.” She smiled and tilted her head to the side as he kissed her neck.

“So throw out some more ideas and I’ll wave my wand again.” He told her then stopped kissing her neck and she turned around to look at him.

She blew air through her lips as she looked around the room. “Okay.”

“And before you start putting things for our little princess in this space I already have conjoining rooms elsewhere in the compound set aside to turn into a nursery for her and bedroom for us after she is born.” He informed her, making her give him a smile that said she was surprised, but delighted to hear that.

She laughed and shook her head getting back to the space at hand. “So…will one of these rooms be filled with your art supplies?”

“No, I have another place picked out for my art studio.” He answered. "If you want we can find a place to turn into a studio for you."

"But I don't paint. Not good enough to have my own studio anyway." She said with a confused frown.

"A recording studio." He clarified.

“Oh.” She said with a smile, flattered that he was thinking about her hobbies as well. “I’ll think about it.” she told him then turned her attention back to the space around them.

“Like I said before, I want a desk. I can write anywhere, but I’ve always done it better at a desk for some reason.” She told him then looked out at the balcony. “Out there, maybe some comfy patio chairs or something. I like to read outside when I’m bored even if it’s freezing out. Speaking of reading, can we have my books that are in my room in Mystic Falls sent here?" Thinking about her belongings that got left behind for the first time in months her mind went into overdrive with questions. "And the painting you bought me on our first date? Is it possible to make a white bedroom suite look masculine? Oh my god shut me up before I have all my belongings back in Virginia moved here."

He laughed at her excitement. "You know...This is your new home. You can have whatever you want moved here. As far as white furniture being masculine, yes with the right colors and styles it can be. So if you want your furniture from your bedroom in my mansion moved here we can. But I was hoping to keep that as it is for a vacation home.”

“A vacation home?” she asked with intrigue.

“Yes, I know you said you hate that town, but it is not only where you grew up in this life and where your friends are, but it’s where I was born and raised.” He told her as he placed his hands on her hips. “I know you miss your friends even if you haven’t said so.”

“I do, I just hope that they don’t hate me for falling off the face of the earth.” She told him sadly then brushed all thoughts of her abandoned friends from her mind with a blink and a shake of her head. “We can leave my bedroom there as it is.” she told him, getting back on topic. “And I want to have my things from my house and my landscape painting sent here. The stuff in the basement of my house…all that family history crap, can stay there.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He told her with a smile as he walked into the bedroom and put her duffle on the bed.

“Isn’t Mystic Falls also where you fell in love with Tatia?” she asked as she walked over and leaned on the archway into the bedroom simply because they had never talked about his past loves.

He sighed and gave her a frown. “I’ve been wondering when you were going to bring her up. You know, since you have a special hatred of doppelgangers.” She walked over to him and set her hands on his chest as he grabbed her hips and pulled her close. “Tatia aside my interest in the Petrova doppelgangers has only ever been self serving.”

“So you’re immune to their allure?” Katie asked with disdain in her voice and a roll of her eyes.

“Yes.” He assured her.

“How many doppelgangers have there been anyway?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“As far as I know, three; Tatia, Katherine and Elena.” He answered.

“And you were only ever intimate with Tatia?” Katie asked.

Klaus laughed and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it and looked down at the floor for a second. He still had a smirk on his face when he looked back up at her. “If you are asking if I, like my brother, have had sex with Katherine, the answer is no. I courted her to keep her close until I could find the moonstone, nothing more.”

“And that’s the truth? You’re not just telling me that because you know I hate her?” she asked.

“It’s the truth.” He told her as he looked into her eyes and she could tell he wasn’t lying to her.

“Good.” She told him then moved around him and started taking things out of her duffle bag. “I was starting to think she had slept with the entire male vampire population.”

When he turned around he could tell by the distant look on her face that something else was bothering her. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked. Instead of answering with words she looked at him and let the blood flow to her eyes then pulled her lips back, showing him her lack of fangs. He cupped her chin in his hand looking at her normal teeth with a frown. “That’s…strange.”

“I don’t need fangs if I no longer need to drink blood.” She told him with a look down at the floor as she pushed the blood back. “It tastes like sour metal now.”

“When did you notice this?” he asked, looking worried as he always did when they noticed another change in her vampire state.

“Yesterday morning.” She answered. “I would have told you, but things were already tense between us and I didn’t want to add to it.”

“At this rate you’ll be human by the end of the month.” He pointed out and she nodded. He closed his eyes with a sigh and pulled her into him, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

A knock on the door made them pull apart and walk over to it. Klaus pulled it open revealing Bradley. “I’m guessing you’re not here to call on me.” Klaus stepped aside and motioned Bradley in and over to Katie who was standing a little ways behind Klaus.

“Hi.” Katie greeted him with an awkward smile.

“I was wondering if you would like to go out for lunch.” Bradley told her with a look between her and Klaus.

“I would like that, but…I don’t know if leaving the compound is a good idea.” She drawled then looked behind her at Klaus.

“I believe you have made your point to the witches very clear.” Klaus said. “Werewolves don’t set foot in the quarter and I don’t believe your father, or any of the other vampires in this city to be a threat to you or our child.”

“Plus I know all of the witches that frequent the French quarter.” Her father chipped in.

“Are you telling me that it’s finally safe for me to see the city?” Katie asked with an excited smile at Klaus.

“Yes.” He told her with a small smile and his hands tucked behind his back. “As long as you are with a trusted vampire and you stay away from the caldron I’m comfortable with it if you are.”

“Who do you consider trusted?” Katie asked skeptically.

“Before I answer that question…” Klaus clapped his hand down on Bradley’s shoulder and looked at him with a condescending smile, “Let’s have a quick chat, shall we?” He steered him through the still open door of their quarters.

“The roles here seem oddly reversed, but okay.” Katie said more to herself than Klaus as she shut the door behind them.

Katie was unpacking her duffle bag and hanging her clothes in the closet when she heard the door open and headed that way to see that Klaus and Bradley were back. “And the verdict is…?” she asked hopefully.

“Let’s call this a trial run.” Klaus told her. “Straight to the restaurant and straight back. If all goes well we’ll discuss further outings. Sound fair?” he asked, not wanting to make her think he was trying to control her.

“Sounds perfect.” She said with a smile as she bounced on her toes then looked at her father. “Meet you in the courtyard in twenty?” she asked and he gave her a nod and a smile then shut the door as he left her with Klaus. She turned and looked at Klaus with suspicious eyes.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You’re trusting him? You don’t trust people that haven’t earned it, most of the time not even then. What’s with the nice guy act?”

“Act? Little Phoenix, you wound me.” he told her dramatically as he placed his hand over his heart. She smirked and gave him a look that told him to answer the question. “He is your father and yes he is loyal to Marcel, but I do not underestimate the bond of blood. I will always worry about you when you are out of my sight, but I will not let my misgivings keep you from giving your family a chance to heal.” He told her seriously. “Besides, I saw how miserable you were cooped up in that plantation house. It is not my goal or my right to cage a Phoenix.” He told her as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Though, I urge you to never let your guard down.”

“I won’t.” She told him practically bouncing with happiness as she bit her lips closed, keeping the words I love you from slipping off of her lips. Now wasn’t the time to tell him, nor was randomly blurting it out, the right way to tell him. No, as long as she’d waited, it needed to be done romantically. Problem was…she sucked at romance. Instead of telling him she stood on her toes and caught his lips with hers. The kiss quickly turned heated and with a whoosh he picked her up wrapping one of her legs around him with his hand on her thigh. Even though he wanted to press her against the wall and take her right there, her ever growing belly wouldn’t allow it. So he whooshed her over to the unmade bed instead.

TVDTVDTVD

“Klaus seems a little overprotective and controlling if you ask me.” Bradley said from where he sat across the table from Katie, cutting the chicken fried steak on his plate.

“You see an overprotective boyfriend trying to control his girlfriend, I see an appropriately protective father just trying to keep me and his child safe.” Katie argued. “People have been threatening my life and my baby’s since I sat foot in this city.”

“I can’t help but feel partially responsible. You wouldn’t even be in this city had I not reached out to you.” her father admitted.

“Yes, but had you not reached out to me I’d probably still be in Mystic Falls hating you and claiming that I had no blood family.” She said as she pointed at him with her fork then stabbed a piece of lettuce. “I was starting to despise that town anyway, with it’s stupid town council and the same judgmental faces I’d seen every day for the past nineteen years. If that bitch Carol Lockwood called me trash one more time I would have broken her uppity little neck.”

“Oh, yeah, she was a bitch wasn’t she?” He agreed and things fell quiet between them for a while as they ate and Katie got a little lost in thoughts of the past.

“So I have a question, maybe you can answer it. Carol always called me a piece of trash and Grandpa always called me a slut even though I wasn’t. I never understood it. Can you shed some light on that?” Katie asked, then took a bite of her salad.

“I hate to speak ill of your mother, but her reputation may have tainted yours. Before she and I married she was a bit…wild. A lot of people didn’t even think you were my daughter.” He explained.

“Really?” she asked unbelievingly then motioned between the two of them with her hand. “The resemblance is kind of uncanny. I even picked at my cuticles like you did.”

“You remember that?” Bradley asked through a bite of his food.

“I forgot about it until Elijah poked around in my head and dug up old memories.” She explained with a shrug then took the last bite of her salad.

Things fell quiet between again as she sipped on her tea and Bradley finished his steak and potatoes. He covered the bill then asked, “Ready to head back?”

“Actually I have a small request.” She said as she held her fingers up in a pinching motion. “Do you know a good jewelry store nearby?”

“You didn’t okay this with Klaus did you?” her father deadpanned.

“First, I don’t take orders from him and he knows it. Second, I can’t surprise him if he knows where I’m at 24/7.” She replied ticking the things off on her fingers with a devious tone.

“You want to buy Klaus jewelry?” her father asked, looking at her through narrowed eyes.

“A ring, yes.” She answered.

“You’re not going to propose to him are you?” Bradley asked knowing Kate had always been a bit of a free spirit like her mother.

Katie busted out laughing. “God no.”

“As long as you don’t let him rip my spine out through my throat for doing this then sure. There’s a jeweler around the corner that I’ve used for years now.”

TVDTVDTVD

“Good evening.” The man standing behind the counter at the back of the store with glass cases here and there greeted her then noticed Bradley walk in behind her. “Oh, hey man, how’s it going?” he asked as he walked over to them.

“Good.” Bradley answered as he and the jeweler slapped their hands together in an over the top handshake. “Chad, this is my daughter, Scarlett.”

“Actually I prefer to go by Katie these days.” she spoke up as she held her hand out to Chad. “Hi.” She told him with a smile.

“Hi.” He echoed back, returning her smile. “What can I do for ya?”

“I’m hoping to find a ring for my guy.” Katie answered, taking in the man. He was Caucasian, looked to be in his late thirties and wore a simple outfit of jeans and a black dress shirt. The thing that gave away his profession in Katie’s opinion were the three gaudy rings on his hand and the diamond crusted eagle pendant that hung around his neck on a thick platinum chain.

“Alright. Do you have anything specific in mind? A certain metal type, certain gemstone?” he asked.

“Yeah, uh, I was thinking something simple. No gemstones. Maybe made of black tungsten.” Katie threw out as a kicking off point.

“I think I have a few options for you.” He motioned her over to a case of rings and after looking through them she found one she thought Klaus would love.

“You’re guy?” her father asked as they walked down the sidewalk on their way back to the compound.

“He’s over a thousand years old, calling him my boyfriend feels kind of immature and silly.” She defended herself.

TVDTVDTVD

She managed to hide the ring in its box in their living quarters before Klaus found her. “How’d it go?” Klaus asked as he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her into him.

“Smooth sailing.” Katie answered as she placed her hands on his shoulders then slid them up to hold the sides of his neck.

“Good.” He pecked her on the lips. “Are you feeling up to a dinner tonight here in the courtyard with Marcel and his closest comrades?”

“Sure.” She answered then turned from him and walked over to the couch in the middle room and sat down. “What’s it for?”

“Just a general get to know each other dinner.” He shrugged as he stood in the archway facing her.

“The last time someone said we were having a general get to know each other dinner a dagger ended up in Elijah’s back.” she pointed out. “If anything other than friendly conversation and eating is going to happen tonight please give me a head’s up.”

“I plan on giving a speech to our new friends and to further rally them and convince them we have absolutely no plans on creating a hybrid army, I plan on asking Marcel’s right hand man, Diego, to lead a wolf hunt.” He told her with his hands tucked behind his back.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked with a narrow eyed shake of her head as she stood up.

“How can I sire hybrids if there are no werewolves left in the bayou to turn?” he asked as if it were obvious.

“I strongly disagree with that.” she stated as she walked over to him.

“Why?” he asked curiously as he set his hands on her waist. “They tried to kill our child.”

“Several reasons.” She started and he guessed by the one finger she held up and the determined look on her face that she was about to go off on a rant. “Tyler tried to kill me. As far as I know he’s not part of their pack. The New Orleans werewolves didn’t touch me and are therefore innocent.” She held up a second finger, “By needlessly killing those wolves you’ll be asking for backlash and a fight we don’t need right now.” then a third finger, “And the main reason, our child will have the werewolf gene.” She told him as she dropped her hand and placed it on her stomach. “If, God forbid, something happens to you and she triggers her gene, I won’t know how to help her. If you kill all the local werewolves who will we have to go to? We need them to be our allies or at the very least on neutral ground with us.”

Klaus sighed and gave her a smirk. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Okay, I will take your advice and not ask Diego to lead a wolf hunt.” He answered.

“Not even so much as a rousting.” She clarified as she grabbed his chin in her hand stubbornly.

“The werewolves are not to be touched or harassed.” He confirmed as he took her hand off his face and kissed her palm. “Perhaps I should buy you a tiara.” He told her as he dropped her hand and pulled her as close as her tummy would allow.

“Why?” she drawled momentarily forgetting that Klaus was the new king of New Orleans.

“Because you are already stepping into the role of queen quite nicely.” He told her as he whooshed them over to sit on the couch with her sitting sideways in his lap.

“Eh give me a week, I’m sure I’ll screw it up somehow.” She told him only half meaning it.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Stop it.”

“So how formal is this dinner going to be?” she asked, changing the subject. “I didn’t exactly bring a lot of clothes.”

“What you’re wearing is fine.” He answered as he took in her grey racer back tank top that was pulled a little tight across her stomach and dark wash distressed jeans. “You might want to wear a jacket though. It'll be a bit chilly in the courtyard at night.”

Katie slipped her hand over his that rested on her thigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. After a while of sitting in silence, both lost in their thoughts Klaus asked, “Sing for me?”

She smiled wondering what it was with the Mikaelson men liking her singing voice. The only difference between the two men was Elijah knew she was a bit shy when it came to her hidden talent and waited patiently for her to decide to sing for him. Klaus, on the other hand, had no problem asking her to and she loved it and his tendency to push her outside her comfort zone. “What would you like to hear?” she asked as she picked her head up and looked at him.

“Write me something.” He replied with a challenging tone.

“You’re kidding.” she looked at him with raised brows.

“Nope.” He told her with a shake of his head.

“You know I can’t just write something on demand right? I have to be inspired.” She pointed out. “You’re an artist, do you not need inspiration to pick up a brush and put paint to canvas?”

“So you need a muse?” he asked with a cocky look and she nodded. “You’re mine most of the time. Can’t I be yours?”

“I don’t know, let’s see.” she replied then caught his lips with hers and he laughed into the kiss. She slipped from his lap, breaking the kiss when she stood up, then went to her still half packed bag and grabbed her journal and pen. He watched as she sat down on the other end of the couch, pulled her knees up, propped the book up on them then put pen to paper. As she got lost in her writing, Klaus grabbed a sketch pad and pencil from his bag he’d dropped at the foot of the bed and started drawing her. He finished before her and she glanced up to see him looking at her, lost in her delicate features that concentrated on the book. After a few minutes she looked up at him through her lashes and smirked. “You’re staring.”

“I’m admiring.” He countered and she just smiled.

“Well, you can stop because I’m finished.” She told him as she put the cap back on her pen and tossed it to the coffee table.

“Then let’s hear it.” he prompted with a come at me motion with his hand.

“You’re lucky I like you so much.” She told him with a playful glare and he gave her a look that told her ‘I know’. Still not secure in her writing skills she turned her eyes to her journal and kept them there not daring to look up as she started singing. “Like every flower’s got a field and the cloud’s have got the rain. Like the night has got the stars and a fires got a flame. Like a moon has got the tide and the rivers got the sea. I’ve got you and you’ve got me.” A small smile pulled at his lips as he listened to her sing the chorus. “Like a singer’s got a song and a song has got a rhyme. Like I know you’ve got a smile when I can’t get to mine. Like every soul has got a heart and a heart has got a beat. I’ve got you and you’ve got me. Oh, some things are guaranteed. Oh, some things will always be. Like I’ve got you and you’ve got me.” she finished and snapped her journal shut.

When she looked up at him she saw him looking at her, admiring what he knew was his and no one could take from him. “I swear you are a siren.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked with a smile as she set her journal on the coffee table and crawled across the couch to him. “Are you under my spell?”

“Very much so.” He told her as he moved her around to straddle his lap. He noticed an odd look on her face and asked, “What’s that face about?”

“I’m trying to think if there is a male, wolf, devilishly handsome variant of a siren.” She answered.

He laughed at her odd thought process. “I don’t sing.”

“No, you growl.” She pointed out as she slid her hands down his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “And I swear it does things to me.” he gave her a questioning side eye and smirk. “May I?” she asked as she held her hand in the air beside his head. He nodded and let her into his mind when she placed her fingertips to his temple. The two times he growled when fighting Marcel’s men flashed through his head, telling him what she was talking about. When she took her hand off his head he gave her a suggestive smirk. “There’s a reason I call you big bad wolf even though you’re a hybrid. You’re animalistic and I love it.”

Love was clear in his eyes as he cupped her cheek in his hand and caught her lips with his in a tender but passionate kiss.

TVDTVDTVD

The courtyard was lit by chandeliers that Katie had failed to notice before and a dining table had been moved in for the occasion. Klaus sat at one end of the table and Katie at the other. Marcel sat to Klaus’s left and Bradley sat at Katie’s right and the rest of Marcel’s inner circle took up the other seats at the table. When Klaus tapped his champagne glass, everyone looked at him and listened as he gave a toast to immortality. With a motion of his fingers waitresses and waiters came out and slit their wrists then held them over the bows that sat in front of each vampire. When the staff left, Klaus lifted his champagne glass again and looked at Katie. She had asked to hear exactly what he was going to say in his toast, not wanting any surprises whatsoever. This part she suggested exchanging a certain exclusive word for a more inclusive one reminding him that he was the king but he wasn’t the only one living in the kingdom of New Orleans. She was interested to see if he would take her advice. “To our city, to my home again.” He gave her a smirk that she returned seeing that he took her advice. “May the blood never cease to flow…”

“And the party never end.” Marcel finished as he raised his glass.

Katie didn’t miss the shared look between Marcel and his right hand man Diego before the latter lifted his glass and said, “To New Orleans.” Everyone else followed suit echoing Diego’s words. Katie simply lifted her glass of sparkling white grape juice and sat it back down.

“I understand that some of you may have questions regarding the recent change in leadership. I invited you here tonight to assure you that you are not defeated. No, my intentions moving forward are to celebrate what we have. What Marcel, in fact, took…” Klaus said as he placed his hand on Marcel’s shoulder, “and built into this, a true community of vampires.”

“What about her?” Diego asked with a point at the other end of the table to Katie. “Isn’t she human or whatever?”

Klaus looked at Katie with a smirk, knowing she’d have something to say about his tone. “My name is Katie.” She spoke up trying to remain confident under Diego’s scrutinizing gaze. “Any questions you have about me, or for me, you can ask me. And yes, in approximately one months time I will be completely human.”

As Katie spoke Klaus walked around the table and stood behind her. “Yes before Diego interrupted me I was going to say there is one further matter I would like to address. As many of you know, Katie is carrying my child, but she is also my partner.” That part of his speech was ad libbed, but she liked the fact that he called her his partner. It had a nice ring to it and was more mature than calling her his girlfriend, not that she didn’t like him calling her his girlfriend when it was just the two of them.

When he slipped his hand over her shoulder she reached up and grabbed it. “Consequently I trust you will all show her the appropriate respect. However, I understand that some of you are concerned by this vicious rumor that I intend to use the blood of our child to create hybrids.” Katie kept her hand on his and looked at her father then the rest of Marcel’s men. “I assure you I do not.” Klaus walked back around to his spot at the head of the table and lifted his glass. “So eat, drink and let the merriment begin.” Klaus finished then took a drink from his glass and everyone followed suit.

Soon more staff came and replaced the bowls of blood with actual food. Thankfully the conversation picked up around the table and Bradley introduced Katie to the people sitting close to them.

“So I didn’t see a ring on his finger.” Bradley spoke up making Katie’s eyes go big and she looked at Klaus to see him deep in conversation with Marcel.

“Will you shush before you ruin it?” Katie asked quietly, making her father laugh. “I haven’t found the right time to give it to him yet. I don’t have the chance to be the romantic one very often and I don’t want to screw it up.”

“You’re mother wasn’t romantic either.” He told her with a smirk.

“Really?” she asked not remembering much about her mother other than her teaching her how to play piano.

“She always tried way too hard and got all nervous and let her mouth run away with her.” he told her and Katie realized then that she had also gotten a nervous habit from her mother. “My advice, don’t think too hard about it. Go with the flow.”

“Follow my heart and go with the flow. Could my parent’s advice be any more cliché?” Katie asked no one in particular with a shake of her head making her father laugh.

TVDTVDTVD

When the dinner was over Katie and Klaus retired to their quarters. When they walked in Katie noticed that dark blue panel curtains had been hung over the windows and the bed had been made with pale grey sheets, an admiral blue comforter and was turned down, all ready for them to slide between the clean sheets. Her bag that had been left on the bed was gone and she noticed the things that had been in it were placed in appropriate spots in the room. “Are you ready to call it a night?” Klaus asked as he walked up behind her, brushed her loose auburn waves to the side and kissed her neck making her sigh.

“Not quite yet.” She answered as she turned in his arms and he gave her a curious look. “Stay right here.” she told him then walked around him and when she heard him take a few steps, turned and pointed at him. “Na, uh, uh.” He laughed and held his hands up in surrender before he tucked them behind his back.

She got the ring, took it from the box and stuck it in her back pocket then located her speaker dock on the fireplace mantle in the middle room. She pulled up a slow song from the twenties on her cell phone then put it on the dock, pressed play and walked over to the arch way and held her hand out to him. He took it and walked with her into the room, giving her a twirl before he pulled her close and started dancing with her. After a few seconds he recognized the song. “This is the song we danced to at the twenties dance.” He pointed out as he pulled back to look into her eyes.

“Ella Fitzgerald’s The Man I Love.” She confirmed. “It took me a while to remember the lyrics considering I wasn’t swept away by the song, but rather the man I was dancing with.” She told him, making him give her a small smile. “But I eventually did and I looked it up and downloaded it for a special moment like this.”

“And why is this moment so special?” he asked considering they were just dancing.

She moved her hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek in her hand and slip her thumb over his cheekbone. “Because it’s the moment I tell you I’m in love with you.” His blue eyes went wide before a big smile took over his face and she moved her hands to hold the sides of his neck. “I love you, Big Bad Wolf.” A yelp followed by a laugh left her lips when he picked her up by her hips and spun her around, an almost growling victory laugh left his still smiling lips as he did. He kissed her as he sat her back down and cupped her cheek in his hand. When the kiss broke she stuck her hand in her pocket. “And I hope you won’t get mad, but I may have talked Bradley into making an extra stop earlier today. It was literally right around the corner from the restaurant. I promise we were safe and please don’t take it out on Bradley he-” she was cut off when Klaus put his hand over her mouth.

“I’m not mad.” He assured her then took his hand off of her mouth. “I assumed if there was somewhere you really wanted to go you wouldn’t let me stop you and I trusted you would stay away from witches. So where did you go?”

“A jewelry store.” She answered. “I’ve never bought anything for a man before, much less jewelry. So I’ll understand if you don’t like it or don’t want to wear it.” She held up the black tungsten band with a wood inlay around the center of it. “It’s tungsten, so it can handle wear and tear and the wood is Hawaiian Koa, a symbol of strength.”

When he looked up from the ring she was still holding between her thumb and index finger she saw that his eyes had watered and when he blinked a tear slipped down his cheek. Hoping it was a tear of happiness, she wiped it away. He took the ring from her and kissed her. Through the kiss he told her that he loved it and he loved her. When the slow kiss broke he asked, “Is there a certain finger you would like me to wear it on?”

“Whatever finger it fits and you’re comfortable with.” She told him with a shake of her head. He lifted his left hand and slid it onto his ring finger, it fit perfectly and she smiled. “I was going to snoop around our bedroom at the plantation in the hopes of finding your daylight ring to make sure I got the right size, but we had to leave before I got the chance.”

He grabbed her right hand in his left and pulled her close, dancing to the song again since it was on repeat. He gave her a twirl making her smile. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Since my chat with Cami.” She answered.

“I have Camille to thank for this?” he asked with raised brows.

“The ring, no, the confession, yes. You seem surprised.” She observed.

“Given your past jealousy I was afraid any interactions you might have with her would have the opposite effect of this.” He told her honestly.

“Apart from my initial jealousy and the fact that she is not only beautiful, but drop dead gorgeous, I have no reason to be threatened by her.” She replied and Klaus smiled a little. “In every other relationship I’ve been in it has felt like there was another woman ready to take what was mine the first chance they had. Be it Elena or Katherine…I even feared Ronan would turn to my sister when she lived with us. But for once it feels like my feet are firmly planted in the ground beside the man I love. I no longer have any insecurities when it comes to us.” She moved her hand that had been resting on his chest to hold the side of his neck. “I just hope you feel the same way.” She slipped her thumb over the soft skin of his neck and looked at him with questioning eyes.

“I will admit, your hesitance had me worried.” He answered and she gave him a look that asked why, although she had her own theories. “You insisted that you only wanted me yet you couldn’t tell me you love me. Therefore someone had to be standing in the way. Who could it have been if not my saintly brother?”

“Me.” she answered. “and my fears because with love comes hurt.”

“And you know I will never intentionally hurt you.” he assured her and she let a small smile pull at the corner of her lips.

“I wasn’t worried about myself.” He blinked at her slowly. “You’re invincible and I’m…not. I was afraid that if I told you I loved you only to be ripped away from you…that I would hurt you and that is something I never want to do.” Her eyes watered and he breathed out a shaky breath. “Then Cami basically pointed out that by trying to protect you I’d only hurt you more and she was right.”

He rested his forehead on hers. “Remind me later to send Camille a very expensive bottle of wine or a gift basket.”

“From both of us.” Katie agreed.

Klaus kissed her forehead then wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she wrapped hers around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I love you, Little Phoenix.”

“I love you too, Big Bad Wolf.” She answered. After a while Klaus let go of her and walked over to her cell phone, stopped the song, took it off the speaker dock and tucked it into her back pocket. “I take it you are ready to call it a night.”

“I am ready to lay in bed, in my home, with the woman that I love.” He told her, “I can see the sleep in your eyes.” After they got settled for the night they laid in bed, lost in thought as they cuddled, Klaus absentmindedly playing with her hair. “For future reference, what is your favorite gemstone?”

“It’s a two way tie between blue sapphire and mystic fire topaz.” She answered. “And diamonds are always good too of course.” She added. “But not chocolate diamonds, ironically I hate them as much as actual chocolate. They just look like dirty diamonds to me.” She looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “What about you?”

“I prefer my jewelry free of gemstones.” He answered and she picked up his hand, looking at the ring he chose to wear on an important finger.

“So you like it?” she asked looking at their hands as she pressed her palm to his, always liking the sight of her very feminine and much smaller hand compared to his larger, masculine, nimble fingered one.

He threaded their fingers together. “I love it.” he told her then pressed his lips to hers.

“Thank you for choosing to wear it on that particular finger.”

“It’s an important ring from a very important person. It deserved an important place to shine.” He told her with a smile. “And I recall a moment when you mentioned that you didn’t like that I go out and about without any indication that I’m taken.” She forgot she had mentioned that in their discussion about Cami. “And for that reason, as well as many others, it will never leave this finger.” He assured her as he slipped his fingers over the chain of her necklace that hadn’t left her neck since he put it back on. “Unless, of course…” he started with a tone to his voice that was meant to tempt, “it should ever be replaced by a wedding band.”

“Whoa. Hey.” She shot up in the bed and turned to look at him with wide eyes. “Slow down there Sparky.”

Klaus busted out laughing. “I was just messing with you.”

She punched him in the shoulder, which only made him laugh harder. “Give a girl a heart attack why don’t you.” she placed her hand on her heaving chest. “I seriously thought you were about to propose and I am nowhere near ready for that.”

“I’m sorry.” He told her, realizing now that her heart was beating way too fast. “Come here.” he held his arm out for her and she lay down and let him pull her into his chest and resumed playing with her hair, attempting to calm her. “I really am sorry. I knew you’d have something to say about it, but I didn’t know it would push you to the brink of a panic attack.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know it would either in all honesty, especially considering Bradley thought I was going to ask you to marry me when I told him I wanted to buy you a ring. I actually found it kind of funny.” She told him quietly.

When her heart rate lowered to a normal pace he tried once again to approach the subject, gently this time, curious to know why she found the thought so frightening. “Can I ask you a question regarding certain previous subject matter?”

She smiled at his blatant attempt at avoiding the word marriage as she pulled back to look at him. “Yes. I won’t freak out on you again.”

“Is the thought of us getting married really so frightening or funny?” he now looked a little hurt or worried by her reaction.

“Funny no, frightening yes. It’s just…” she didn’t know how to explain why she had never thought about marrying him even though she loved him and most women naturally thought about their future with the man they loved…marriage, kids, navigating their forever together. She’d thought about what her dream wedding would look like before she got her memories back, but now she knew the ugly truth of what marriage could look like. “I hear the word marriage and I automatically feel…strangled.”

“Because you were forced into your first marriage and felt you couldn’t escape it.” he said in realization.

Katie nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I would feel the same way if I were to ever marry you. It just means…that it’s a crack in my side of the mirror that needs to be mended.” She said with a shrug. “I just thought it was funny that Bradley thought that I would propose to you.” she explained not wanting him to think she thought a forever with him was laughable. “I’m old school. It’s your job to pop the question, not mine.”

“After tonight’s reaction I’m not sure how I would even navigate that.” he admitted.

“Give me some time and help me warm up to the idea and you can do it however you want to.” She told him and he gave her a smile and kissed her forehead before she tucked herself back into his chest. “And, just so you know, I used to watch say yes to the dress with Caroline all the time. So I already have a dream dress in mind.” He gave her an interested look. “What type of dress do you think I would like?”

“Simple, sheath or trumpet silhouette, maybe satin and lace.” He guessed thinking he was spot on until she laughed and shook her head.

“Not even close.” She told him with a shake of her head. “My dream dress is nowhere near simple.”

“Then show me.” he told her now very interested because the most extravagant dress he had ever seen her wear was the dress that Elijah bought her for the Mikaelson ball and it was on the classic and reserved side of fashion.

“Not gonna happen.” She answered.

“Why not?” he asked with a frown.

“Because it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding.” She answered as if it was the obvious one and he rolled his eyes. “I will tell you that the designer is Pnina Tornai and it was a custom made dress. So good luck finding it on the internet.” She told him with a devious look. “And if we ever do decide to tie the knot it will be in this certain dress. If I can’t hunt down the original I want to get Pnina Tornai to make another one.” His jaw dropped in a smile and he laughed as he closed it and shook his head at her making demands for something extravagant. “I’ve surprised you again haven’t I?”

“Yes.” He said with a smile and a nod. “All the other dresses I’ve seen you wear were safe and classic.

“Most of the dresses I’ve worn were bought by other people and I will not play it safe with some cookie cutter wedding dress. Trust me, you’ll like it. Pnina’s dresses are sexy and usually do a good job of showcasing your most favorite part of me.”

His eyes dropped to her chest and a dirty smirk pulled at his lips. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded. A growling laugh left his lips as he rolled over, hovering over her as he caught her lips with his.

A/N: Reviews and thoughts on my stories are always welcomed and highly appriciated as well as reblogs and likes, but the reviews are what really keep me writing. Just saying.

[kpop---writings]

Playboy Prince 3

Prince Im Jaebum.

Part 3.

“Welcome back, Prince Im Jaebum,” The butler does a 90 degree bow, “Hello, Princess Y/N.” He turns his attention to you, bowing again.

You nod your head with a smile.

“I’ll take your bags.”

He reaches for Prince Jaebum and while reaching for yours, he gives Jaebum a questioning look.

“You can take her bags to my room as well,” Jaebum already knew what he was thinking

As the butler walks off with both of your bags, Jaebum begins walking further into the castle. You right on his tail.

His castle was very much different from yours. Your parents loved the white marble and classy look. Almost everything in your castle was white, white marble, or some other shade close to white allowing for a slight contrast. With the occasional bright colored piece of decor.

But the Ims’ castle. It was very rich with gold details everywhere and darker shades. Completely opposite what you were used to. Not that you were complaining, it was nice to see something different. It made you feel like you didn’t need to be so cautious about leaving any kind of dirt behind. 

You hadn’t noticed Prince Jaebum had stopped walking and began to watch you admire his castle. 

“Not what you’re used to, Princess?”

His voice catches you off guard and you quickly look over to him.

“No.” You reply, walking towards where he’s standing, next to a large exotic painting of some animal. “It is very beautiful, though. I can see myself living here.” You give him a wink.

He smirks, “Wait until you see my room.”

---

Prince Jaebum gives a pretty intricate tour of the castle, showing you even the secret passage ways. You’re so in awe the whole time. Their castle gives of a completely different energy than what you’re used to, but you absolutely love it. The dark flooring and walls with gold detail was so captivating to you.

Jaebum, again, watches you closely. Taking advantage of you being completely distracted by his home to look at you. Specifically your lips.

As you’re looking around at everything, you catch his stare.

“What?” You ask confused, “Is there something on my face?” You began feeling all over your face.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, “No, you just look like a kid in a candy store. Have never seen any castle other than your own?”

“I mean I have, but most of the time they all have the same interior.” You look back at some of the paintings in the hallway you’re standing in, “Definitely not covered with such unique art.”

“And what’s with the kid thing again?” You ask.

Prince Jaebum shakes his head, “Just waiting on you to prove otherwise, Princess.”

---

“Come on. Time for the best part.” He grabs your arm and takes you up the stairs and down a long hallway until you reach a set of tall double doors, black and gold of course.

He pushes them open and steps aside for you to walk in first.

The first thing you notice is the big king sized bed in the middle of the room, with dark red bedding and a sheer, black canopy draping off the top from every side of the frame. You briefly wonder how many women he’s fucked on there.

Jaebum walks past you to the middle of the room and spreads his arms out, “So this is our room, what do you think?” With an extra emphasis on the word “our.”

On the outside you give him an annoyed look and roll your eyes, but on the inside, you’re actually screaming. That’s cute.

“It’s cute, actually. The bed, especially, seems cozy.”

He tilts his head to the side, “So the bed is what caught your attention, huh?”

“Because I like to sleep, Prince Jaebum.” 

You hear him sigh, dramatically.

“I know what you’re doing, you know.” He says, as you walk around the room, touching and looking at everything. 

You don’t look at him as a smile creeps on your face, “And what is it I’m doing?”

“You know. That thing where you keep saying things that could have a double meaning.” You turn to look at him and see he’s sitting at the end of the bed now. “What are you up to, Princess?”

He looks absolutely delicious right now. He’s seated so beautifully at the end of the bed, legs parted, and leaning back onto his hands. You imagine how he would react if you just got down on your knees in front of him right now. You subconsciously lick your lips, a little too slow.

“Hello! Princess!” He starts waving his hands around, “What are you thinking about?” He’s smirking now.

You ignore him and continuing looking around at everything. 

He lets you look around a little bit, allowing you to get a little more comfortable with your new home.

“Why don’t you come over here with me,” he’s lying down now, eyes on you.

You slowly walk towards the side of the bed he’s laying on and he scoots over and pats the bed next to him, signaling for you to lie down.

Okay. Laying next to him won’t cause any harm. Right?

---

You two lay in silence for a while, you momentarily forget about all the teasing and banter you two normally do. It’s nice actually. You guys are actually cuddling right now. His arm wrapped over you while you rest on his other.

Jaebum feels different with you. He’s never allowed any girl in his room, let alone his bed. He never cuddled any of the other princesses he fucked, he felt like that involved too much emotion and would complicate things. This, though, with you was very relaxing.

The sound of you speaking breaks the comfortable silence.

“Prince Jaebum ca-”

“You can just call me Jaebum, Princess.”

“Jaebum,” saying just his name feels nice. Like he trusts you.

 “Can I ask you a question and get a very honest answer?”

Jaebum just knows it’s about the rumors. Of course he’ll be honest with you, you’re about to marry him, so what’s the point in lying about it anymore?

“Princess, any question you have I will answer honestly. I have no reason to lie to you, we’re about to be married.” He responds

That makes you smile. You also think maybe it’s just because there’s nothing you could really do about whatever the answer is except just knowing about it from him himself.

“I want to know how many women you’ve fucked.”

 You lean up on your arm, facing him. 

“You want the absolute truth?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I’ve only been with four, one of them isn’t even a princess.”

You sit up fully now. Is he lying to you right now?

“You’re lying. You just told me you were going to be honest.”

“I also told you I have no reason to lie.”

He sits up too, so you’re now sitting across from each other.

“I slept with Princess Sooyoung , you know, the princess of all princesses. She wasn’t a good fuck so I never asked to see her again, which she did not take well. Apparently she thought us fucking meant I wanted her to be my queen, so with the help of her friends, they all spread the rumor about me.”

You can see the sadness in his eyes. He always seemed like he was proud to have such a reputation, but watching him tell the story you can see it actually did bother him, there was just nothing he could do about it and he knew it.

You reach up to rub his arm, in a comforting way. 

“Hey. I believe you, Jaebum.”

He looks up at you with longing eyes. He looks at your lips briefly and then back to your eyes.

You want to kiss him. So bad.

Lucky for you, he leans in first.

His soft lips against yours feels like heaven. You feel like you’re in a dream, getting lost in the motion of your lips moving in sync with his.

You feel his hand touch your thigh and you tense. He notices.

He quickly pulls his hand away and pulls away from the kiss. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I just-

“Jaebum,” You cut him off. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You move closer to him and grab his hand to put back on your thigh, a little bit higher than where he put it. You lean in to kiss him, this time going lower.

You slowly give him an open mouthed kiss on his neck, sucking on the skin as you pull away and go back up to his lips.

Jaebum could feel himself growing in his pants at the way you just kissed his neck.  He moves his hand up your body from your thigh to your waist and pulls you onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. He makes sure to push his hard on into you so you know exactly how you’re making him feel right now.

The feeling of his dick lightly rubbing against your clit is making you unbelievably wet. You just want him inside you already filling you completely, you can just tell it’s incredibly thick.

Just as you start grinding down even harder against him, the phone rings. You look over and see it’s his mom calling. 

“Jae- Jaebum,” you breathe out, “It’s your mom, you need to answer it.”

He groans and throws his head back in frustration reaching for his phone.

You stay seated on top of him as he speaks to her. He looks really good under you, his lips plump, face red from the heated moment, and hair a little disheveled from running your hands through it.

After about 10 minutes you realize the conversation isn’t ending soon and you’re starting to feel awkward just sitting here and staring at him. You decide to go shower away the day of travel and the arousal that soaked your panties. It was beginning to get uncomfortable.

You move to get up and Jaebum grabs your leg and gives you a questioning look. You mouth ‘shower’ as you continue to get up. 

He looks sad almost.

---

You strip out of your clothes and step into the hot water. You hum in content. This feels really nice. 

Your mind starts to wander back to what was about to happen and you get that feeling in your stomach again. You close your eyes, lean your head back letting the water hit you, and slide your fingers down your chest all the way to where you needed it most. You can just picture what his dick looks like and you remember how it felt against you.

You let out a sigh as you rub your clit to the thought of Jaebum.

You don’t even hear his footsteps as walks in the very spacious shower behind you.

“Are you starting without me, Princess?”

[koala-otter]

i love your atla writing?? your grasp of the characters shines through the dialogue, you really have their voices down!! here's a writing prompt (only if you're interested, of course!) if it helps: some kind of hurt/comfort zukka; maybe ambassador sokka is witness to an assassination attempt on zuko while sokka's staying in the palace, & even though zuko survives & insists he's fine, sokka's still really worried & frets over him? i just. want them to show they care about each other bcos i'm soft

hello beautiful beautiful anon! thank you so much for this 💛 you have no idea how much it means to me to hear you’re enjoying my writing! I’m sending you all my love and adoration

and here is some zukka for good measure! thank you, soft anon, for the prompt!

“nothing wrong with wanting to protect you” 2.5k words

“What is this?”

Zuko looks up from his full-length mirror to see Sokka striding briskly into his chambers, a rolled up sheet of paper clutched tightly in his balled fist. He unfurls the sheet and holds it out to Zuko once he’s standing next to him. 

“There’s nothing on there,” Zuko deadpans, turning back to the mirror to resume adjusting his sash. 

Sokka balks and looks at the paper, then shakes his head. “Had it the wrong way,” Zuko hears him mumble, and then Sokka turns it around to reveal an illustration of Zuko’s father and several characters written on the other side. “There!”

Zuko glances at it briefly. “Oh, that,” he says dismissively. 

Sokka stares at Zuko, then back at the paper, and then once more at Zuko. 

“Are we not reading the same thing?” he asks disbelievingly. He shakes the paper in Zuko’s face. “It’s a New Ozai Society poster! Looking for new recruits! To kill you!”

“I know, Sokka,” Zuko says sharply, pushing the other man’s arm away. 

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Sokka demands. “We got rid of the society years ago. Now it’s suddenly springing back up and advertising an assassination attempt? We’ve got to launch another—”

“It’s not ‘suddenly springing back up,’” Zuko interrupts him. He takes a moment to check his hair in the mirror, pulled tightly into its top knot and hairpiece, before he finally faces Sokka. “There are posters like that all over the Fire Nation. There have been for years.”

“What?” Sokka asks. “Why am I just finding out about this now?”

Zuko shrugs. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he says. “It’s not a big deal. We used to have people tracking them down, but the society never actually did anything, and eventually there wasn’t a point. It’s fine.”

“‘Fine?’” Sokka repeats. He points to a line on the poster. “Maybe you missed this part: they literally say they want a team specializing in stealth to kill you.” He throws his arms in the air. “‘Kill you,’ Zuko!”

“Yeah, I can read, too,” Zuko says pointedly. 

“We should double your guards,” Sokka says, starting to count on his fingers as he thinks to himself. “We’ll put them at the windows and in the hall, and we can get even more at night. Oh!” His eyes go wide with revelation. “We should ask Suki to send some Kyoshi Warriors again.”

Zuko sighs. “I knew this would happen if you found out.”

“What, that I would try to keep you alive?” 

“Sokka,” Zuko says impatiently, “this isn’t your job. You’re not a guard; you’re an ambassador.”

“Actually, Admiral Chen called me your ‘paramour’ the other day,” Sokka replies with a self-satisfied grin.

Zuko snorts an uncharacteristically graceless laugh. “That’s very her,” he says. He turns away and moves toward a chest of drawers to put away the extra robes laid out by an attendant that morning. “Either way, you shouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”

Sokka’s eyes are soft as he watches Zuko move around the room. “Can you please just understand that it would kill me if something happened to you?”

Zuko slams a drawer shut. “I don’t need you to protect me, Sokka,” he says impatiently. “It’s not like I’m another sixteen-year-old princess with a death wish.”

The cavernous room goes silent. Unease climbs up Zuko’s spine, crawling over his scalp, filling his body and keeping him rooted to the ground as he waits for Sokka to reprimand him, to tell him he’s gone too far. A stillness fills the air, up to the high ceiling, so that even the drapes at the windows and in each corner of the room hang heavy and motionless. Sokka still hasn’t said anything. Zuko finally turns around to look at him. The hurt is so clear in his face, in his wide eyes and the slackness of his jaw. Zuko hates himself, suddenly, acutely, for having caused it. 

“Sokka, I—” 

Zuko reaches toward Sokka, but stops himself when he sees Sokka’s face harden. The backs of Zuko’s eyes burn.

Suddenly Sokka’s at the door, pulling at the handle roughly despite the ease with which he normally opens it. He pauses in the space between Zuko’s room and the hallway. “I’m telling your guard to double up tonight,” he says, still not looking at Zuko. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be with the engineers if you need me.”

The door closes, and Zuko is alone.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t see Sokka for the rest of the day. And he isn’t the only one to notice. In a meeting with Earth Kingdom dignitaries over a land dispute, Admiral Chen leans over and asks the Fire Lord quietly, out of the side of her mouth, “Where’s Sokka? He’s the only one who can get on these guys’ good side.”

Zuko just shakes his head and puts on a smile for their guests, ignoring the rise of Admiral Chen’s eyebrows.

That night, Zuko leaves the lamp on and sits on one of the settees in his bedroom. He nurses cup after cup of chrysanthemum tea and pretends to read a letter from Aang, but when he realizes he’s read the same paragraph three times, he’s forced to confront the fact that Sokka isn’t coming. He snuffs out the light and climbs into bed, staying on the left side and trying to ignore the wide open space on his right. He stares at the canopy above him and focuses on the slow pace of his breathing.

Minutes, or maybe hours, later, Zuko sits up when he hears the window blow open.

“Sokka?” he calls into the darkness. 

There is no response. 

He lights a fire in his palm and surveys the room. The tea pot and his cup are still out along with Aang’s letter, and his robe is still flung over the chair in the corner. A chill breeze flows in through the open window and stirs the drapes. Zuko sighs and rises to close the window. He looks out on the garden beneath him and up at the waxing moon above him. The night is still and quiet. He shuts the window, making sure the clasp is secure. 

Zuko turns and freezes. A figure clothed entirely in red, blood red, wearing a white mask, stands only a few feet away from him, crouched in an attacking stance and holding a sword in one hand. As he falls into his own stance, the figure rushes forward, and all Zuko feels and hears is the heat and roar of fire rushing out of his hands. The fire dissipates, and Zuko finds the figure flat on the ground, looking up at him with a deep tilt of their head. He thinks he hears a snicker from them. 

A crash sounds from the door, and Zuko looks over to find Sokka rushing in, armed and ready with his sword and his boomerang. Two guards follow behind him, each holding another red figure in a headlock. 

“Sokka,” Zuko breathes, relief crashing over him.

But Sokka still looks panicked.

“Zuko, behind you!” he yells as he throws his boomerang.

Zuko turns just in time to see another figure directly at his back, and he swears he can almost make out a smile through their mask before a club swings straight down on his head.

The room Zuko wakes up in is dark. It’s the first thing he notices before the pain rolls in, suddenly and mercilessly, like a tidal wave, and he has to close his eyes and grit his teeth while he waits for it to pass. 

“You’re awake!” he hears, and Zuko cracks his good eye open to find two blue eyes and a warrior’s wolf tail at his side. He didn’t realize he’d made a sound.

Zuko tries to nod, but Sokka reaches out and touches his forehead with one of those big hands of his, brushing Zuko’s hair out of his face and stilling him. 

“Good to see you back with the living,” he says with a small smirk. “I’ll get the doctor.”

He rises to leave, but Zuko manages to grab his shoulder. Sokka stops and waits. The pain subsides to a dull throbbing, finally, and Zuko can sit up and open his eyes. He takes in the room as they adjust to the dark. The bed he’s in is covered in white sheets and thick furs. He can make out a wolf helmet mounted on the far wall. And the desk in the corner is littered with scrolls and scraps of paper Zuko can only assume are blueprints and various inventions in progress. 

This is Sokka’s room.

“Why—”

“It seemed safer,” Sokka explains with a smile, crouching at the side of the bed again. “While we made sure there weren’t others.”

Zuko nods and keeps taking in his surroundings. The last time they were in Sokka’s room together was maybe a few weeks before, when they had a chance to sneak off for a few minutes between meetings. Admiral Chen kindly averted her eyes when they returned for the naval council and Sokka realized he put his tunic back on inside out. Otherwise, they mostly sleep in Zuko’s room, and their trips here don’t usually leave Zuko with much time to examine Sokka’s choice of decor. He now finds he likes it.

“You were right about the windows.”

Zuko expects Sokka to laugh at that, but he only sighs. 

“Yeah,” he says, “I guess.”

Despite the groan in his head, Zuko leans over the side of the bed to frame Sokka’s face with his hands. He stares at the planes of his face, the stubble on his cheeks, and it strikes Zuko how beautiful Sokka is, yet again, despite the bags under his eyes and the tense look of his jaw. Zuko kisses his cheek gently, and then the space between his eyebrows. Sokka inhales sharply in surprise—between the two of them, Zuko is not usually the more affectionate one—but he closes his eyes as he leans into his exhaustion and Zuko’s touch. Zuko brushes his lips again between his eyes, and then down the bridge of his nose, almost as though drawing a dotted line down the middle of Sokka’s face. When Zuko finally reaches his mouth, Sokka relaxes enough to place his own hand on Zuko’s face and press back up against his lips, slowly and sweetly. 

“Thank you,” Zuko says quietly as he pulls back. He bites his lip. “And I’m sorry.”

Sokka’s eyes open, and he gives something of a laugh. “It’s not your fault you got attacked.”

Zuko shakes his head. “About what I said before,” he says haltingly. 

He doesn’t need to clarify any more. Sokka nods once. “It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Zuko presses. “It was cruel, and I was wrong.” He takes Sokka’s other hand. His voice sounds hoarse when he says, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Sokka rises and presses another kiss to Zuko’s mouth. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with his trademark good nature. He gives Zuko a crooked smile. “Really.”

Zuko nods and looks down at his lap. “I wondered if it was why you didn’t come to bed,” he says. He sounds ashamed still. 

Sokka looks at him quizzically. 

“Oh,” he suddenly says, understanding dawning on his face. He sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. “You know it wasn’t, right?”

Zuko smiles sheepishly. “I do now.”

Sokka sighs and shifts in his seat. “I was patrolling with your guards.” He smiles at the surprise on Zuko’s face. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d tell me I was overreacting again.”

“I would have,” Zuko admits. 

Sokka squeezes his hand. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to protect you,” he says in a low tone. “And it’s not because—” Sokka stops and clears his throat. “It’s not because of what happened at the North Pole.” His eyes meet Zuko’s. “I really don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

All they can do is look into each other’s eyes, the details of their faces obscured by the relative darkness of the room but for the daylight creeping its way from behind the curtains. Sokka waits for Zuko to admonish him, to maybe tease him for being so soft, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Zuko shifts forward and puts his arms around Sokka’s waist, pulling into him tightly. He tucks his head into the space between his shoulder and his neck, so Sokka can feel his breath on his collarbone, and waits.

Finally, Sokka laughs lightly and hugs Zuko back, adjusting slightly to hold him fully in his arms. 

“I’m glad you were there,” Zuko finally says into his skin. He smells like leather and salt and himself. “I love you.”

Sokka pulls back to brush the hair out of Zuko’s eyes, and then kisses him once more. “Yeah, me too,” he says in a low tone.

Zuko gives him a soft smile, and shifts away. He grimaces at the pain in his head as he begins pulling the furs back and moves his legs over the side of the bed. He looks up to ask Sokka to help him find his robe, only to see a stern look on the younger man’s face. Zuko smiles hopefully.

Sokka pushes him back onto the bed. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, bewildered. 

Zuko almost looks offended. “We have a meeting with the Earth Kingdom dignitaries today.”

“Are you kidding? You just got whacked in the head,” Sokka cries. “Hard!”

Zuko winces at the volume of his voice. “They’ll be expecting us.”

“Uh, no, they won’t,” Sokka says, noticeably lowering his voice. He crosses his arms and grins at Zuko in a challenge. “I had your schedule cleared for the next two days.”

“What?” Zuko exclaims. “Why would you do that?”

Sokka shakes his head at him. “Zuko, a team of deadly assassins broke in and tried to kill you last night. You don’t think you might need a couple of days off?”

Zuko smiles at him in an attempt at assurance. “I’m fine,” he insists.

Sokka groans and gently pushes Zuko back down onto the pillows. “Did we not just have the same conversation?” he asks.

“That was different,” Zuko argues as a fur is pulled up to his chin.

Sokka hangs above him, his hands leaning into the mattress on either side of Zuko’s head. “Please,” he says, “will you just let me take care of you?”

Zuko stares up at the bright blue of Sokka’s eyes. At once, he is transfixed. All he can do is nod mutely, and Sokka gives him a relieved grin before pecking him on the lips. 

“Good,” he says, hauling himself back up to a standing position. He gestures to the door with his thumb. “Now I’m really going to go get the doctor.” He sets off.

Zuko’s hand steals out from under the covers and reaches for Sokka’s once more. He misses. “Wait,” he calls out.

Sokka watches him expectantly, his whole body turning and stilling to listen to Zuko. 

“Will you—” Zuko glances away. “Will you stay with me a little longer?”

He looks back to find a grin plastered on Sokka’s face, and his eyes crinkling affectionately. Sokka comes closer and pulls open the covers. 

“Of course,” he says simply.

And he climbs right into bed.

[st-just]

Some writing from a game

Because I’m like..60% happy with it and I feel like it should have a potential audience of, like, at least a dozen people. 

(Also, if you look very closely you might be able to see the influence of the last couple things I read)

The palace of the Melquart was as poorly defended as she had been promised – the nephilim garrison were either dead or damned, depending on the rumour you believed, and either way far away in the old capital. The local troops were mostly gone as well, sent to suppress a rebellion among the hill tribes – by the time they realized the reports and requests for aid were forgeries, it would be far too late. Even the guards which remains wouldn’t prove much use, their evening meal having been liberally spiced with sedatives to leave them slow-witted and sluggish. Everything was, in short, exactly how Itireae ir’Naeh had been promised it would been, carefully arranged to ensure the once-princesses homecoming would be as smooth and frictionless as possible. Not that she looked much like a princess anymore, of course – months of exile in the badlands had taken their toll, even before the injections of quicksilver and adamant had left her with monochrome eyes and sickly blue veins pressing against her skin. Still, she would gladly make every sacrifice and compromise over again, if it brought her here. After all, what good was a child who wouldn’t do what was necessary to avenge their father? With her new sight, the iron frame of the palace’s upper windows shone in the pre-dawn light, and it was a simple matter of will pull herself towards them – by now the pulsing, burning pain from her veins was almost a comfort, as she gracefully flew through the night to alight on the windowsill. It hung open in the warm fall air, and it was barely any effort to pull herself inside. She moved fast. Even if she couldn’t see the golden treasures piled high in the Melquart’s bedroom, she knew her way their by heart. She passed five guards on her way, and four four didn’t break her stride – a handful of iron needles pulled from one of the pounces hanging off her belt and pushed with more force then an a longbow towards each made sure they never got up. The last was someone important – a royal bodyguard or captain, sleeping on a bed in the antechamber to the Malequart’s apartments. He she recognized – he had just as happy to have a place of honour at her fathers side, before the giants called down fire from the sky and massacred his entire host. And so she paused and drew her glass daggers, and took the time to make sure he recognized her before she let him die. The Melquart was a Lumor, god-blooded, close to three yards tall, with flowing, braided crimson hair and a matching beard which grew fiery in truth when he was enraged – as he was now, charging through the door of his apartments in nothing but a robe, sacred and deadly bronze axe held in both hands, to find his bodyguard bleeding out before him. Which nicely distracted him as Itireae sent the first barrage of iron needles and blades flying towards him from her perch on the ceiling. His roar as the blades dug into his back and spilled his sacred blood was so loud it was almost painful to hear. But then, she wasn’t the intended audience – and his divine grandfather seemed to understand perfectly. The room filled with a wrathful and ruddy light, and Itireae had to leap to the floor to avoid the blast of divine fire the lumor threw from his hands, letting out a gasp of pain at her awkward landing on the stone floor. The holy runes etched on the Melquart’s axe glowed with an angry red light as he approached her, nothing but pure, deadly rage in his words. “I don’t know what you are, but if you start begging now I’ll just cut you down. Keep fighting, and you’re going to suffer. Burning slow so all the other humans know the penalty for striking the blood of the Sun.” Whatever reaction he expected, Itireae’s unsteady laughter wasn’t it. Her hands trembled as she spoke, grabbing a thankfully unbroken vial off her belt. “Me? I’m no-one, not after tonight. Just one more debt you monsters never bothered to settle.” She poured the vial down her throat, and tried to ignore her body screaming in protest as she started burning its contents before they were metabolized. A thin trail of black, acrid smoke leaked from her mouth, as her veins began to glow an unearthly blue. And the Melquart, axe raised for a killing blow, staggered and gasped in pain. Her fingers were bloody, gripping the seams between stones on the floor to keep from being slammed into his chest – but it worked. His fire went out as the light faded from his eyes, the blades buried in his back pulled through his heart and lungs until they pierced the skin of his chest as well. She made sure, of course – used her glass daggers to cut his throat and put out his eyes, and open every major vein and artery. And then, satisfied, she set to work cleaning up after herself. It was close to noon when she finally limped to their meeting place, lightly scorched from divine flame and throat too raw to speak from rushed alchemy. Still, her patron was waiting for her, wearing the face of the well-fed caravan driver she had travelled here with – though that disguise was beginning to crack, every hair already a pristine white and eyes faintly glowing, color starting to fade from their outfit. Turning to her with a slight smile and a nod, they said “Given the fire at the palace, I trust you have settled your personal affairs?” At her nod she gestured to the horses “Then we should be going. You have a higher purpose now, and the journey will give you time to consider a suitable new name.” They made good time on the trip south, as behind them the last vestige of Phanosine rule in the far east collapsed into succession struggle and anarchy. ----------------------------------------------- Tymon Sol managed to survive in the forest on his own for nearly two weeks. As soon as the strange, massive ships had been sighted and the chief and captains ordered their men to assemble, he’d heard the whispers of ruin and disaster on the wind. By the time the strange, green-coated soldiers had arrived and demanded unconditional surrender, her had already donned his mother’s mask and cloak, and taken everything he could carry. By the time the first cannon fired, he was so far away he could barely hear them. He had found an ancient tree, and made a camp beneath its canopy, hiding it from man and beast, rain and wind, anything the flew or crawled or bit or stung. Since then he had almost never taken off the cloak or mask – hiding him from anything but the spirits, and letting him see their guidance to the food and water he needed. All of which was to say, he had finally begun to feel safe. And so he was not at all prepared when something was waiting for him. It was dressed like an officer of the soldiers who had invaded his village, though its uniform was decorated with gold brocade and some sort of extra decoration. And otherwise totally devoid of color – snow white hair, pale skin, and clothing that remained pristinely and perfectly white even as it stood in the mud and leaned against his tree. Its eyes glowed faintly with a cold light, and when he looked at it he saw all the spirits who had protected his camp had shied away from touching it. It, meanwhile, looked down at a pocketwatch in its hand with apparent fascination. Either unable to perceive Tymon beneath his cloak or unconcerned with his presence as he stared and froze in panic. After a long, terrifying minute the watch let out a chime and it spoke in a soft, pleasant voice. “You are quite difficult to find, ghost-child. Before your spirits gaze I swear not to harm you, but I hope you will not force me through this effort again.” Trying to remain calm, he circled around it, trying to see if there were any other soldiers. Eventually, satisfied to find no footprints or hidden men, he responded, speaking from the mouth of a bird perched above her. “What do you want, then? You’re one of them, aren’t you? The soldiers who destroyed my home?” It sounded genuinely sorrowful as it replied. “That should not have happened. My peer was here as a mercenary, a role which does not agree with them. They were needlessly harsh, in the interests of haste, and the marines followed their example as well as their commands.” “Then, what, you’re here to say you’re sorry? Offer to build me a new house? I swear I won’t accept an-” “Please listen before you speak rashly child. I am not here to offer empty words or simple blood money. Might you here my offer, before you reject it? If you do, then I will accept your answer, should you desire, leave you be.” “...alright, fine. Talk.” “Your family is fascinating. Five generations of power and worth carefully gathered, every action judged, the petty gods of nature whispering in your ear, whatever life you wished to have forgotten under the duty you inherit. It’s a great burden, for someone so young. And it will not grow any easier – the island’s new princes are brutes, liars and cheats. You could resist them, and see your family suffer, or serve them, and forsake every fragment of purpose within you.” “My family? Who do you mean? Have you done anything to them?” It smiled, slightly. “Yes. One hundred thirty-eight potential heirs, although beyond the first dozen they are wholly unprepared and would despoil your inheritance quite quickly. And absolutely nothing, beyond identifying them. I would like to help them, offer them new lives with warm homes, food and medicine, and the assurance that they will never have to worry about being hunted down. But for that, you will have to come with me first. You will do good on a grander scale, and in return none of them will ever want for safety or comfort. Would you not at least consider the deal?” It paused then, waiting for a response. Tymon didn’t have one. After a silent eternity, it closed the pocket watch and gave a slight shrug. “I will return at this time tomorrow. I hope you will be here.” It walked out of the tree’s canopy and stood in the sunlight, took a deep breath and looked directly at the sun. And then it was gone. Tymon spent the next day and night performing every augury who could think of – it had never been a talent of his, truthfully. But the answers were all resoundingly clear. When the soldier in white returned the next day, he was waiting for it. -------------------------------------------------------- Three months latter, and the people who had once been Itireae and Tymon were ready. The ritual was not exactly difficult – it did not take a great deal of power, and could theoretically be performed anywhere. But it was exceedingly intricate and precise. Hira stood before the two kneeling inductees, both dressed in the dull grey robe and bright red fez of a Janissary without official rank. The room they stood in had, minutes before, been almost claustrophobic. But as the seven layers of exactingly drawn circles on the floor began to glow and turn in time with some grand cosmic clockwork, the walls and ceiling faded away. They were outside, and the night sky was bright and full of stars – though the constellations were foreign to them, and the light cold and alien. “Do you forsake inheritance and legacy, kith and kin, family and tribe? Do you forswear all covenants you have made, and revile all those who would demand your loyalty by love or affection?” The two answered at once “I do.” “Do you pledge yourselves to the service of Principle, to the creation of a rational and compassionate world, and the interests of the Esheri Republic, selflessly and without expectation of or right to comfort, safety or power?” “I do.” “Do you accept your role as the agents of history, and that you will be called to use and expend yourselves as necessity requires, without regard for you own selfish wants or particular affections, and will die and be forgotten with no memorial but the world you will help create?” Again they replied “I do”. As they did, the alien starlight seemed to solidly around them, pouring down their throats as they spoke, marking them indelibly. Hira smiled widely, opening her arms in welcome as she spoke “Then rise, Avra and Erem, and join us in engineering paradise.”

[jackiejacks923]

Love in Four Ways: Dream Lover [part 3]

Pairing: Shownu x reader

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

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

You opened your eyes and was met with Hyunwoo’s sleeping face. You didn’t even know how you got back into bed, but now you know the reason behind these location changes. You were just thankful that you haven’t woken up yet and were still wrapped in Hyunwoo’s arms. You felt safe and loved and you didn’t want to move from this position ever.

As the rain rapped against the windowpane, you took advantage of this moment and memorized his face as he slept. His perfect nose...his soft cheeks...his chiseled jawline...his very kissable lips. His strong eyebrows that sat above such loving eyes. You never wanted to forget how his love for you always radiated when he looked at you. You gently ran your hand through his hair and gave him a kiss on his forehead before slowly prying yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him, to cook him breakfast.

You dressed yourself in your leggings and found one of his shirts in a drawer to use for your top and headed for the kitchen. As you headed down the hallway you have become accustomed to, you noticed the kids’ rooms decorated as guest rooms. You were in a world where it was just you and Hyunwoo, before the kids entered your lives. Your heart felt determined more than ever to make sure they became your reality to see their bright smiling faces once again.

You entered the kitchen and on the counter, you saw that the dreamcatcher already had a menu planned...makings of breakfast fried rice. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and got to work. You got busy chopping and scrambling and frying fully concentrated on making a delicious meal for your husband. You were busy singing to yourself while you were mixing the ingredients in the frying pan when you were surprised as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Have I told you how I love seeing you in my shirts?” he whispered. You giggled as his lips tickled your ear.

“Hungry?” you asked him as he nuzzled into your neck. You heard him hum his response and then kissed your ear before sniffing the scent your cooking was giving off. “Why don’t you see what side dishes we have in the fridge and get the table set,” you suggested, “I’m almost done here.”

He gave you one last kiss on your cheek and hugged you tightly before doing as you asked of him. The feeling of his hug still lingered and you wondered how you’d be able to cook when you awake knowing that it could be like this. You sighed internally. You needed to stop worrying about what would happen when you wake up and just enjoy the rest of the time you had in this world before your alarm would go and interrupt it.

You transferred your finished dish into a bowl and brought it to the table as Hyunwoo finished setting it. You took your seats and then began to fill up his plate before serving yourself. As you spooned your first bite, he took a piece of one of the side dishes and placed it on top of your spoonful. Touched by the simple gesture, you turned to him and smiled your gratitude as he smiled in return. You ate in comfortable silence as the rain continued to fall outside.

“What did you want to do today?” he asked you as he reached to hold your hand.

You played with his wedding band as you chewed and thought. A lightbulb went off in your head. “Let’s watch the wedding video.”

“I should’ve known you wanted to do that,” he said as his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you, “You always do when it rains.”

“Do I?” you asked. I wonder why? you thought, But also...he notices this?

After you finished your meal, you did the dishes together while Hyunwoo hummed a familiar tune. You knew you heard it before, but couldn't remember where you heard it from. When you were done, Hyunwoo kissed your forehead as a reward for a job well done and took your hand as you both walked to the couch. You got comfortable while he set up the TV to start playing the video of your big day. Hyunwoo took a seat next to you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders inviting you into his side.

The opening shot was of staff running around trying to get a canopy up around the open courtyard of the ceremony area while the rain started to come down around them. At the same time, other members ran around with towels in their hands to wipe the seats dry. The next scene was of you in your wedding dress, makeup and hair done, looking out the window as the raindrops fell.

“This guy and the rain,” you said to no one in particular, “I shouldn't be surprised.” A smile formed your face.

“At least rain on your wedding day means good luck and fertility,” your mom said as she came onto the screen with your bouquet of white and pink roses with accents of baby's breath. “Are you ready?” You nodded your answer as you both followed your bridesmaids out of the suite.

There was a fade and then you watched as Hyunwoo also looked out the window wearing his white suit accented with the same shade of pink in your bouquet. He had a big smile on his face. "It rained when I proposed, on our first date, and the day we met," he stated as he laughed and scratched the back of his head.

A woman who you could tell was his mom came into frame and pinned his rose boutonniere on his lapel. "At least now you know, if ever it rains, something great will happen for you two," she tells him and gives him a kiss on his cheek. He nodded agreeing and hooked her hand on his bended arm as he followed his groomsmen out the suite door.

You diverted your attention out the window as you saw the rain fall outside your home. You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and gave you a kiss in your forehead as you both focused back on the events on your TV.

A song began to play in the background as a montage of the ceremony started on the screen. Your wedding party consisting of faces you recognized outside of this dream life and some unfamiliar ones as well marched down the aisle. Your dad approached a smiling Hyunwoo and placed your hand in his. The video then panned the whole ceremony venue filled with happy faces despite the rain falling around them. The music lowered enough to hear you exchange vows and rings and for the officiant announce you husband and wife. Cheers of your loved ones filled the air as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife.

A sky wipe transition then brought you to the reception venue as the MC announced your arrival as you joined your guests to celebrate your nuptials. You watched as the camera captured your friends and family enjoying dinner as they clinked their glasses requesting for you and Hyunwoo to share a moment of affection with them.

Hyunwoo then reached for your chin and angled your head to give you a sweet kiss, mirroring the actions of the Hyunwoo that was on your TV screen. You touched your forehead to his just savoring this moment with him, when a familiar tune from the TV started to play. It was the same tune that Hyunwoo was humming while doing the dishes. You turned to the screen and saw that it was your first dance as husband and wife to your special song. This song seems to mean more than that, but why can’t I remember, you thought to yourself.

As you were trying hard to figure this mystery out, Hyunwoo got up from the couch and offered his hand. “May I have his dance, Mrs. Son.”

“Who else would I dance with, Mr. Son?” you replied as you took his hand and entered his arms.

You both swayed together as your song played in the background. You rested your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. “That’s why, darling, it’s incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too,” Hyunwoo sang along holding you tighter in his arms. You hummed satisfied with the beautiful voice that graced your ears. “I love you, Y/N,”

You closed your eyes. “I love you, too, Hyunwoo...with all that I am,” you replied. You hugged him tighter.

Please don’t let me forget this, you prayed to whoever was listening. You never wanted to forget this dream that renewed your hope in finding someone to share your life with. You just prayed that Hyunwoo really is somewhere out there for you to find. You were determined to wait however long it took in order for this dream you experienced to come true. You felt his lips press the top of your head and then you heard the buzzer of your alarm in your ears.

(picture credit to Bored Panda, #3 Dancing in the middle of your living room, just the two of you)

Part 4 - Final

[litwitlady]

whatever walked there, walked alone - part one

My Halloween fic which I love writing too much to abandon. Content warnings: mentions of child abuse, Alex is dead and not coming back to life, blood, emo poetry.

Michael Guerin exits the city limits and heads west. The sun is beginning to set, framing the mountains in flames of orange and red, painting the sky in purples and pinks. His phone GPS says the house is 13.3 miles from Roswell city center. A scant ten-minute drive.

A few miles later, the ironwork of the property’s fence comes into view. The house is hidden behind several large hawthorn and plum trees, creating a dense canopy that protects the mansion from the blazing desert sun.

Michael parks outside the gate and pulls a bolt cutter from the bed of his truck. The ornate ironwork is buried in English ivy. He clears the vines away and breaks through the chains locking the gate doors, swinging them open. They creak and moan as the rusty hinges strain after years of disuse.

It’s like walking into a dream. Or a nightmare. Another planet, maybe. The desert disappears and suddenly there’s thick grass beneath his boots. Flowers bloom despite the heavy tree coverage and everything green is overgrown. But the house is finally visible – the cornices crumbling, the menacing marble lions shrouded in yellowing moss.

A breeze rustles through the leaves, sending a shiver up Michael’s spine. He feels eyes on the back of his head and spins on his heels. A cat hops out of a maple tree, sending several birds flying from their perches. Michael laughs to himself and turns back towards the house.

Dead, drying leaves are scattered across the stone steps. The giant wood doors are also locked with chains. Michael makes quick work of them and pushes against the splinted oak. But the doors won’t budge. The moisture and heat have warped the wood. So, no matter how hard he pushes, there’s no give. With a sigh he climbs back down the stairs. Vows to come back the next day with the necessary tools.

And maybe not alone.

But as his boots sink back into the grass, he hears the doors open. A thick, musty scent settles in around him. When he glances over his shoulder, the doors are gaping at him like a hungry mouth ready to swallow him whole. The cat dashes past him, through the doors, and he swears he hears his name whispered from somewhere deep inside.

He swallows hard and pulls out his cell phone. But there’s no reception. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to go inside. Definitely not by himself. Wants, instead, to head back to Isobel’s and crawl inside his warm bed. Wants to forget this dilapidated old house even exists.

Michael takes several deep breaths, reclimbs the stairs. And then he forces himself to cross the threshold into the darkness.

The foyer floors are filthy. Covered in muck and grime, the black and white checkered marble barely visible. Spiderwebs crisscross from surface to surface, collecting dust and other debris he’d rather not think too much about. The windows are all curtained with heavy, velvet drapes – allowing no light to pass.

Michael runs his fingers along a gilded mirror, eyes catching on a group of picture frames still hanging from the garish floral wallpaper. He leans forward, blowing the dust from the glass. Sneezes several times. The photos show a family. Father, mother, and four boys – the youngest just a baby. In most of the pictures, the father is dressed in full military regalia. His wife pretty and unsmiling. The children with hands in pockets, devoid of that devilish charm so common to young boys.

He begins to notice a pattern as he follows the frames down the hallway. Three of the boys start to grow up – getting taller, shoulders broadening. But the youngest never grows past eight, maybe nine years old. Michael feels a sadness clutch at his heart. Wonders what happened to the little boy. Suspects it’s nothing good. And likely the reason the house has been left to rot for so long.

The cat reappears out of a hall closet. Michael startles and watches him dash towards the curving staircase, bounding up the stairs. He looks back at the front doors, making sure they are still open. The sunlight is entirely gone now. He pulls out his phone and clicks on the flashlight app. Continues further into the belly of the house.

In the kitchen, he finds the cabinet doors all removed – probably stolen by some house foraging flipper – but the bowls and plates left behind. An eight-burner stove takes up a third of the room. The gigantic commercial refrigerator another third. There are two center islands and clearly the kitchen was for catering lavish parties. Michael is unimpressed by the cold austerity of the space and is already mentally remodeling.

He putters through the cabinets and stumbles upon a collection of toddler-sized sippy cups. There are four – each with a boy’s name painted across the top. Clay, Gregory, Flint, and Alex. He reaches up and pulls the one labeled ‘Alex’ from the shelf. The cup is cracked and chipped around the rim. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck shiver, sending another chill down Michael’s spine. He drops the cup onto the floor, the crash echoing down the hallway.

Upstairs the cat screeches.

Michael hears his name whispered again.

And then the doors slam shut.

***

‘The house is haunted, Iz.’ They are at the grocery store, restocking for the week ahead.

She rolls her eyes at him while grabbing more cereal. ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts, Michael. It was just the wind.’

He stares back at her like she’s stupid. ‘There’s no such thing as aliens either. And there was no fucking wind.’

Isobel, hands on hips, stops mid-aisle. ‘The place is a gothic nightmare. It got in your head and freaked you out. The sooner you sell that place the better.’

Intellectually, Michael knows she must be right. But he can’t ignore doors closing on their own and floating voices calling his name.

‘Do you know what happened to the original family? I think their name was Manes?’ He’d pulled the old deed. There wasn’t much to go on other than the name Jesse Manes. ‘I don’t remember them from when we were kids.’

She grabs a bag of rice. ‘Jesse Manes was a General in the Air Force. Served as Chief of Staff to the entire USAF when we were in high school. Really big deal. His kids all went to some military academy on the east coast.’

‘Was? Is he dead?’ He sneaks two boxes of pop-tarts into the cart.

‘Not that I know of. He was dishonorably discharged. Not too long after his youngest son died. Something about an extortion scandal.’ Isobel shrugs her shoulders and turns onto the next aisle.

‘His youngest son? The little boy – Alex.’

She narrows her eyes at him. ‘Alex Manes. Yes. But he was 28 when he died. Killed overseas. Maybe he’s your ghost.’

‘Wait – that doesn’t make sense. That house looks like it’s been abandoned for at least a decade.’ He tries to do the math in his head. Three years might lead to some broken windows and cobwebs, but not the level of decay he’d discovered. The grime on the floors alone would have taken at least twice as long. And the bannister was literally rotting.

‘Don’t know what to tell you. Happened three years ago. I was working with the General on a military fundraising event. And then, poof! He was just gone. Nothing left behind but newspaper gossip. And that house.’ She looks down at her shopping list. ‘I’m going to grab some milk – meet you at checkout.’ She gives a little wave and rolls off.

Michael leans against the row of shelves. Thinks about what Isobel’s told him. He doesn’t know why Edna May Rollings bequeathed the property to him in her will. Or all that money. Sure, he’d mowed her grass a few times – changed her oil. But the Manes property was worth well over a million dollars.

Nothing was making any sense.

*

Later that afternoon, Michael decides to do his own research at the town library. He pulls up article after article from the Roswell Gazette highlighting the many philanthropic endeavors of the Manes family. Jesse Manes often lauded as a hero. His sons all highly decorated military officers themselves.

In all the articles, he only finds mention of an Alex Manes once. In his obituary dated October 14, 2018. The paper mentions he’d been killed by IED while serving in Iraq. There’s a grainy, black and white photo above the obit. Captain Alexander Manes in his uniform, blank expression on his face. And it’s a good face – cheekbones for days, expressive eyes, and a full bottom lip. Michael stops for a minute to admire the handsome soldier and to lament his early demise.

He pulls out his notebook and writes down the names mentioned in the obituary. All of the survivors – mother, father, brothers, distant relatives. Surely, one of them lives within driving distance. If not, there’s always the phone or email. He intends to find some answers.

Michael leaves the library and drives to the Roswell cemetery. The plots are arranged alphabetically, for the most part. And he finds the Manes family relatively easily. Alex’s tombstone is the white marble of fallen soldiers. But there’s no inscription beyond his name or the relevant dates of birth and death. It’s odd not to see a ‘beloved son’ or ‘cherished brother’. He’s beginning to suspect the Manes family buried more than just their son three years ago.

*

The next day Michael heads back to the house. But this time he’s not alone. He’s accompanied by an entire cleaning crew and Isobel. Who merely intends to rifle through the family’s forgotten belongings and steal whatever trinkets catch her eye. And to tease him mercilessly about his ghost.

Michael does his best to avoid everyone. He has his own mission in mind and doesn’t want to be disturbed. The upstairs hallway leads to all the main bedrooms – master on the left and the four smaller rooms on the right. Each of the secondary bedrooms is nearly identical in shape and size. Except for last room – tiny and dark. A single bed compared to the doubles next door. He knows deep in his bones that this was Alex’s room.

A terrific sadness envelops him when he steps inside. He tries to flip the light switch, but nothing happens – the only light whatever sun fights its way through the dirty window.

Michael starts there – wiping the glass clean. He sweeps and mops the floor, dusts the baseboards, and removes the cobwebs. Opening the closet door, he finds a torn cardboard box tucked inside. Pulling back the battered flaps, he discovers several yellowing journals. Pages and pages of scribbled notes and poems and the various ramblings of a teenage boy. He takes the journals to his truck immediately, stashing them beneath his seat.

As the day stretches into night, there’s no sign of any ghosts. No weird noises. No strange whispers. Isobel has taken every mirror in the house among several crystal dishes. Most of the rooms are as spotless as they’re going to get, the smell of bleach giving him a headache. But the place is starting to feel less creepy.

After everyone else leaves, Michael takes one more trip up to Alex’s bedroom. Sits in the middle of the room and waits. For what, he’s not sure. A presence maybe. Which he knows is insane, but something or someone called his name the day before.

The sun is nearly gone. The room is dark and still. That sadness from earlier still pushes at him, but he doesn’t feel afraid. Oddly enough, he feels safe and warm. And then the floor creaks. Not just once. Over and over again. Like someone’s pacing from the window to the bed and back again.

‘Hello?’ His voice sounds scratchy, dry and nervous.

The footsteps stop. Michael’s breath catches as he strains to listen. ‘Alex? Alexander Manes?’ Something blows across the back of his neck. He swallows but stays still.

‘I’m going to bring your journals back. I promise.’ Making a ghost angry is probably a bad idea. ‘I just wanted to get to know you better.’

Nothing happens. And he feels a sinking sense of loss.

*

At Isobel’s later that night, Michael is curled up in his bed staring at Alex’s journals. He’s anxious about reading them. Worries that what he’ll discover is worse than anything he could have ever imagined. Worries that he’ll meet someone in these journals that he’ll come to love. Someone that he’s already lost.

The first journal is marked 2003. It’s plain black with a Further Seems Forever sticker peeling along the spine. Opening to the first page, Michael is struck by how neat the handwriting is. His own is nothing but chicken scratch. But this kid wrote in neat, tidy letters – not a smudge in sight.

July 2003

Today I am a teenager. And I missed mom for the first time in forever. I came home and dad was drinking. Started yelling at me to put his ladder back where I’d found it. But I never, ever touched his stupid ladder. That was Flint. He didn’t care. And now my ribs hurt. Happy Birthday, Alex.

I’ve only been home for two weeks, but I already want to go back to school.

Michael’s fists clench but he continues.

August 2003

Flint got his learner’s permit today. Dad is teaching him how to drive stick. Will probably even buy him a car to take back to school. I fucking hate Flint.

I wrote a poem or maybe a song that I actually like. Here it is:

‘The hallways are empty

And I am blind

Locked in this castle

Where no one is kind’

I know that’s not much. But it’s a start. Been saving up for my guitar. Greg is going to buy it for me once I have enough money.

September 2003

It’s because I’m gay. Why he beats me and no one else. I will try so hard not to be gay anymore.

Tears burn Michael’s eyes. He picks up another journal. This one gray with lots of cartoon doodles marring the cloth cover.

September 2007

Senior year has begun. The Academy finally feels bearable. No upperclassmen to avoid. My fucking dad has me flying out this weekend to interview at the Air Force Academy in Colorado. Fourth son, fourth branch of the military. None of us got a choice, but of course he saved the Air Force for me. Of fucking course.

I snuck out with Maria last week to sing at an open mic night at her mom’s bar. I’ve never felt like that before – enjoying all those eyes on me. Most times I just want to disappear. Forget I exist. There was a guy – curly hair, big hazel eyes. He was beautiful and I worked up enough to courage to talk to him, but he wouldn’t stop staring at Maria. So.

I guess someone at the Pony must have known my dad. Because he was waiting up for me when I crawled back through my bedroom window. I didn’t beg this time. Just let him do what he was going to do. Honestly, I felt like I deserved it. For thinking that guy might actually want to talk to me.

Michael stops breathing. He tries to recall a night at the Pony from fourteen years ago. But he can’t remember ever meeting Alex. He had dated Maria, briefly. Maybe it wasn’t him – maybe he wasn’t the curly-haired, hazel-eyed boy. But the possibility lingers thick in his chest.

December 2007

I’m not going home for Christmas. Even though mom has agreed to show up for appearance’s sake. A perfect fake fucking family. I won’t be missed. Dad laughed when I called and told him. Called me a coward and hung up. He won’t have his favorite punching bag and I hope that means he won’t turn his fists to someone else. Like mom.

Things with Danny haven’t progressed at all. I thought he was flirting with me at the football game, but he hasn’t talked to me since. He’s shy though – kind of like me – so I think I may still have a chance. He’s not going home either – his parents are overseas on some mission trip. Maybe I will be brave enough to kiss him. I’ve never kissed anyone and I’m already 17. Pathetic.

January 2008

Sometimes I look up at the stars

And your eyes look back at me

Filled with the fire of an exploding sun

Sometimes I look up at the stars

And there’s nothing there at all

Just empty space, hollow and undone

So, Danny is dating a townie girl. I’m always so, so stupid. But I’m not giving up on myself no matter how hard this world tries to beat me down. And it’s trying pretty damn hard.

March 2008

Dear Alex,

you are blue and black and yellow

bent and bowed like the dying myrtle tree outside that window

your pliant plentiful petals putrefying in the blades of summer grass

you are unseen and forgotten, disgraced by the midday sun

blown apart like the dandelion waste of suburban landscapes

wilted and wallowed and left without a trace of your own dignity

June 2008

My father’s hands have spent so much time taking. Splitting me open and unthreading the blood, the sweat, the tears of me. Spilling my insides and then stuffing the gore back deep in the darkest recesses of my heart.

I want hands that will take but give something back, leave something behind. Hands that will heal and stitch the splintered parts back together. Hands that will shape the dark edges of me into something bright like hope. I want hands with wings to fly me out of this nightmare.

But instead I’m going to war.

After Alex graduates the military academy, there are no more journals until 2017. Michael spends the next several hours poring over the earlier ones – meticulously kept records of a broken childhood. One abuse after another. Cracked ribs, a shattered wrist, and a never-ending deluge of bruises.

But also, so many dreams. Alex was a hopeful kid, despite the sad poetry, with music in his future. There are pages and pages of songs – the scratching down of harmonies and verses. Intricate details of chord progressions and key changes. Michael grabs his own guitar, strums through some of Alex’s notes. The songs are simple but refined. He wishes he could hear them sung with Alex’s voice.

The 2017 journal stares at Michael from his nightstand. It’s dirty and pocket-sized, bent and beaten at the edges. Caked in blood. He opens to the first page. Alex is in Iraq – the place where he dies – and Michael’s not sure he wants to read further. But he also can’t stop himself.

November 2017

The desert here is different. Hotter, I think. I am always sweating and never clean.  

February 2018

There was a boy. In the carnage. Riddled with bullets. Bullets that may have been my own. I tried to feel something. I did, really. I tried.

March 2018

Only two more months. And then one war exchanged for another. Clay is getting married. I think I’d rather stay here.

The next several pages are stuck together with the dull, brown ink of dried blood. Michael can’t make out more than a word or two through the thick stains, but the entries seem longer and more rambling. The back half of the journal is empty – filled with nothing but blood splatter.

Michael pulls out his laptop. Something about the timeline feels off. Alex’s obit and his tombstone both marked his date of death as October 14, 2018. That’s months after this journal stopped. Months after whatever nightmare caused all this bleeding. He thinks briefly about calling Liz and asking her to ID whoever all this blood belonged to.

He googles ‘Alexander Manes Iraq death’ and nothing obvious pops up in the searches. But on the next page he sees a newspaper article from a Virginia paper, clicks it open. It’s from summer 2018 and includes a list of purple heart recipients. A Captain Alexander Manes among the names.

So, he made it home. Hurt but alive. Michael’s best guess is that he returned to Iraq before his death in October.

He runs several searches for Alex’s brothers. He gets a hit on a Gregory Manes. Local newspaper photo of him with several kids from a science fair. The school is near a reservation in the northwest corner of the state. He jots the information down but decides to start a little closer to home.

People in Roswell must know the Manes family. And so that’s where he’ll begin. Starting with local business owners. First thing in the morning.