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#loan against jewelry
trustedgoldbuyer · 3 months
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cashforgold-011 · 5 months
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diamondbancus · 2 years
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Gold & Silver Secured Loan Miami | Loan Against Rolex & Diamond Jewelry - Diamond Banc
Get the highest value loans on or against gold & silver, diamond, Jewelry, luxury watches, and more in Miami from your trusted industry leader- Diamond Banc. Get A Jewelry Loans in Miami. Diamond Banc in Miami is South Florida’s premier source for fast, convenient, and easy loans secured by your fine jewelry, watches, gold, and diamonds. Our Diamond Banc branches in Aventura and Coral Gables offer a variety of ways to access the inherent value of your fine jewelry, designer jewelry, luxury timepieces, precious metals, and diamonds. 
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tiaramania · 9 months
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Tiaras of the future Queen Mary
I love a good list and @duchessofostergotlands requested one of the tiaras that Mary will wear as queen. As usual I had a lot to say.
Crown Jewels
Queen Caroline Amelie's Emerald Tiara
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Denmark is unusual among modern monarchies in that they still have wearable jewelry in their crown jewels. There is a diamond set, a pearl and ruby set, and of course the beautiful emerald parure. This tiara cannot be taken outside of Denmark and is only worn by the queen. I really hope Mary wears it for her first official portrait as queen.
Major Tiaras: Non-Restricted
Princess Louise's Pearl Poiré Tiara
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This tiara has only been worn by Queen Margrethe during her reign but previously was worn by crown princesses and princesses. It is a very important tiara but I wouldn't mind Queen Mary loaning this one occasionally to other people like Christian's future wife.
Queen Désirée's Ruby Parure Tiara
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Queen Ingrid kept this tiara even after her husband passed and then left it to Crown Prince Frederik for his future wife so it was never worn by Queen Margrethe. I expect Crown Princes Mary will continue wearing this tiara for now as the parure was extensively remodeled to suit her. When Christian marries, she may decide to pass it on to his wife establishing it as the de facto crown princess tiara, keep wearing it herself, or ideally keep wearing it while also loaning it the future crown princess.
Minor Tiaras
We don't yet know how Queen Margrethe will handle passing on her jewelry. In other countries with recent abdications, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands still attends tiara events but Queen Paola of Belgium and Queen Sofia of Spain do not. If Margrethe decides to keep attending them she may hold on to some of these for a while.
Grand Duchess Louise of Baden's Palmette Tiara
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This isn't my favorite tiara in the Danish vault because of the way it ends so abruptly instead of tapering off. Queen Mary's going to have to pull off some great tiara hair to cover that up.
Crown Princess Margaret's Turquoise Daisy Tiara
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Queen Mary looks good in turquoise but I'm really looking forward to seeing this tiara on Princess Isabella and Princess Josephine.
Queen Ingrid's Floral Aigrette Tiara
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I've loved the way Queen Margrethe played around with this tiara but I am looking forward to Queen Mary putting it back on a tiara frame like Queen Ingrid wore it.
Queen Margrethe's Naasut Tiara
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Queen Margrethe was given this tiara by Greenland in 2012 and I have been waiting for day it is worn by Queen Mary. I think the delicate gold flowers are really going to look great against her dark hair.
Personal Tiaras
Wedding Tiara
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Queen Margrethe gave this tiara to Crown Princess Mary as a wedding gift and Mary later had optional pearls added.
Ruby & Spinel Necklace Tiara
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Mary bought herself this tiara at an auction and debuted it 2015. I think it was a very smart move because it was only 8050 EUR (probably less than some of her gowns) and it will be a great piece for her children to wear in the future.
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Every country and monarch handles jewelry a little differently. Queen Margrethe gave each of her daughters-in-law a tiara but did not share any of her tiaras with them. She did share with her nieces (the daughters of her two sisters) when her sisters didn't have enough tiaras to loan them for events. I would like to see the future King Frederik X and Queen Mary change how the jewelry is dispersed.
First of all they need to stop giving away jewelry. The mainline has already lost the Queen Alexandrine's Diamond Drop Tiara to the Countess of Frederiksborg and Princess Dagmar's Diamond Floral Tiara to Princess Marie. Those are both beautiful, versatile tiaras that would have served the family well in the future. In the previous generation, Princess Benedikte was given Queen Sofia's Star & Pearl Tiara and her Floral Birthday Tiara made from other jewelry and Queen Anne Marie was given Crown Princess Margaret's Khedive Tiara and her Antique Corsage Tiara made from other jewelry. There's no reason to give away tiaras anymore to people whose descendants will have little reason to wear them.
Then to make up for not giving away any jewelry there needs to be more sharing! I don't want to see the same person wear the same tiara to every event. Queen Mary will have the Emerald Tiara exclusively and then may choose to keep the Pearl Poiré Tiara and Ruby Parure Tiara to herself but everything else should be shared among her daughters, daughters-in-law, and other members of the extended Danish Royal Family. It would make things so much more interesting.
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biteofcherry · 5 months
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You were broke. Completely and utterly broke. Student loans were crumbling down in you and your part time job at McDonald's wasn't paying the bills anymore. Your parents had given up on you and wanted you to get married after school but you wanted to go to college and thus there was no familial support.
After a lot of contemplation and swallowing your pride. You took up the offer of your friend and tried to get a sugar daddy. She gave you ticket to a place and luckily for you. The event host took a liking to you. He was the richest of them all but also dangerous. You knew he had some shady businesses in the back and most people feared him because of that as well. But you didn't care, as long as he gave you money.
However, to your horror, you came to know that your ticket was exchanged with another lady and this was not a place to find a sugar daddy, but the host wanted a wife.
You profusely apologized to him and tried to get away but he had made up his mind. He wanted you and he was going to marry you. Whether you wanted it or not.
After all, what could be your needs that won't get fulfilled by marrying a rich man rahte than being his sugar baby? Right?
Katie, don't think I forgot about this little gem you sent me! I read it on my train ride, when you sent it and saved it to properly reply when I return 🩷
I do agree that while it was shocking to find out the mistake, it is quite a promotion. In the good way. You still get to be sugar baby, but called wife and with a ring on your finger and a husband to dote on you. Even if he is intense at times, even if he towers over you and likes to corner you as you still try to rebel against some of his decisions 😎
But you can't help the way your pupils widen and your lips part, when he proves to you that you're most eager to follow his lead not because he spoils you financially, but because he plays your body like a maestro does an instrument.
As well because he's attentive and notices the things about you that many men often ignored, or didn't appreciate.
And he will prove it every day and night on your honeymoon - showing you the most beautiful places; keeping you in luxurious villas and hotels; buying you new wardrobe and jewelry; delighting in the way you enjoy food and treats; and obviously making you scream and sob as he fucks you into compliance...
and has you softly snuggled to him on the flight home, smiling to himself in triumph when you start responding to the flight crew calling you Mrs. Barnes.
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runningfrom2am · 2 months
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requiem // part four
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summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.3k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.
a/n: fighting for my LIFE trying to sort out my student loans rn. also i'm sick. butttt i did just finally get my hands on hogwarts legacy so that's eating up all my time. anyway that's a small update on my life.
also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board
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three months earlier
"You could write her a song." Clemensia suggests with a shrug, tapping her pen against the inkwell, hardly looking up from it.
Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't mock me, Clemmie. I'm serious."
"So am I!" She laughs, facing her palms up against the table and looking across at him now. "She likes music, it's like, the only thing she likes. It would make her happy, I'd bet. Is that not the whole point?"
In the face of something so juvenile as asking his best friend to go to their graduation gala together, Coryo is stumbling. You were his best friend, yes, he could just outright ask- especially considering nearly everyone had already just assumed that the two of you would be attending together, but something about that didn't sit right with him.
Other girls were getting special things. Flowers, jewelry, notes, and love letters that he had genuinely heard that, on a couple of occasions, brought tears to their eyes. Not that he wanted you to cry, but... He wanted you to feel that he cared. It was important to him that you knew he really cared.
"It is." He grumbles, rubbing his forehead.
"Okay, then-"
"I'm not writing her a song."
Clemensia sighs, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't have to be any good. Maybe it's even better if it's bad! She'd get a good laugh out of it too."
"Yes, and then I'd never live it down." He says, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and trying to put his focus on the assignment they were supposed to be working on. "Besides, I didn't ask for your advice. I don't need it."
"Yes, you do." She insists with a teasing smile, reaching over the table and poking him in the shoulder with her pen. "You wouldn't have told me otherwise. You were just too scared to ask directly."
Coryo lets out a deep breath through his nose, shaking his head in quiet denial, but she can easily make out the pink tinge on his cheeks.
"Coryo, you know she'll say yes no matter what, right?" She adds, her voice softer this time.
"That's not... that's not what I'm worried about. Necessarily, I mean."
"Ah." Clemensia hums in response, taking the end of her ink pen between her teeth. "More like... you just don't want her to get the impression that she was a last resort?"
"She's not." He defends quickly.
She raises her hands defensively, a short and quiet laugh falling from her lips in the library. "I know. I know that. I'm just clarifying that you don't want her to get that impression."
When he doesn't respond, pretending to pour all his focus into taking notes again, Clemensia lets out a dramatic sigh. "I don't know, just ask her. She knows you well enough that I really don't think it matters. Just... when's the next time you're hanging out?"
"Not sure." He mumbles, scribbling down some notes that he knows are hardly legible.
"Well, what about after class today? See if she wants to go get coffee or something."
"She's coaching until seven."
"Tomorrow?"
"Rehearsals."
Clemensia lets out a huff. "This weeken-"
"Orchestra practice." He cuts her off this time.
"Panem that girl is busy." She sighs. "How does she even have any friends at all?"
"We make time." He shrugs nonchalantly, as if it didn't bother him that he hardly ever saw his best friend this late in the academic year. That was common for you, though. Usually come summer and fall you had more free time to share with him. And he was happy to wait- it wasn't like he didn't get busy during exam seasons too.
"Okay, well, now is the time to 'make time'." She exclaims sternly, leaning closer across the table and lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because I heard rumours that Sejanus Plinth was intending on asking her, and you and I both know that she is far too kind to say no. Even if he is District."
Coriolanus' jaw tenses at that and he grips his pen just a little bit harder. "Have you done question fifteen yet?"
He had already been thinking about that for weeks, and he would torture himself for another week before he finally took Clemensia's advice and "made time".
You had seen him since that conversation he had had with Clemmie, but that didn't mean he could ever get himself to actually bring up graduation outside of asking you casually if anyone had asked you yet. To which, the answer was always an unbothered "no", and a shrug that allowed you to mask the sadness behind your smile.
He didn't exactly "make time", though. His plan was quite the opposite. Knowing you had morning practice, he got to the academy early and shoved the folded up paper in your locker and practically ran down the empty halls to the library. No taking it back now.
'A note? That's so stupid! She's your best friend! Just ask!' His thoughts race at him, but that's exactly why he did it this way. He couldn't back out again now.
"Coryo," Your familiar voice says as you slide into the seat next to him, hair perfectly styled and uniform ironed flat despite the early morning you must have had.
He looks over at you, eyes slightly wide out of nervousness. "Uh, hey... How's, um... How's your morning?" He asks, trying his best to play it casual.
You smile, sliding the folded up piece of paper you had found in your locker back over to him. "Good." You answer, already going about taking out your books. "Yours?"
"Good." He nods, mouth dry as he stares down at the paper, looking between the sheet and you.
Silently, you nod for him to open it, a small smile on your lips.
He hesitates before opening it, the conscious effort it takes to not tremble taking over his nerves.
He curses himself for his own fears about what it would say, blinking a couple times before reading the note.
'Want to go to the grad gala with me? -Coriolanus'
And then in small, flawless handwriting, a swift and smooth print that lacked any hesitation, there was a new line underneath.
'Yes :)'
"I only tried on fifty different dresses to decide on the fit and style of what I wanted." You say with a slight laugh, unzipping the garment bag that held your dress.
Coryo was sitting on your bed, like he often did, hands fidgeting in his lap. Fifty dresses to him seemed unnecessary, certainly you looked just fine in the very first one all the way through to the very last. But he did understand how seriously your family took your dresses, for both your performances and events like the one you would be attending together.
"That's... that's a fair few dresses." He laughs with a small nod, gazing into your closet and away from you for just a moment, trying to get a glimpse at your performance gowns you had stashed in bags and lining the wall. It's a wonder you had room for everything, he knew you had never tossed or re-worn a single one- all large in either sheer poofiness and volume, or bright colours and patterns that drew the eye and held them hostage in your form. Sometimes both. Coryo was never sure if it was the intent to make you look like a princess from a fairytale, but a few times a year he got to see you look just like one. What he imagined them all to be, anyway, when recalling the storybooks his mother read to him and left on the untouched shelves in his should-have-been baby sister's nursery.
"Yes, well, I wanted it to be perfect." You hum, pulling the dress out of the bag and turning to him, holding it up against your chest. "Thoughts?"
Coryo nods in response, swallowing hard. The dress was stunning, and the colour was rich- it would compliment the tones of your skin and hair beautifully. He had very little technical knowledge of fashion, but what had trickled into his mind from Tigris would lead him to believe it would be complimentary to you.
But he had no idea how he would match that.
The last of his father's salvageable dress clothes was that shirt Tigris is working on for the reaping ceremony in a couple of months, and he couldn't possibly wear that twice. If she could even salvage it. Maybe he should ask her to prioritize making it into something that would better match your dress, or just wear it plain white with the black stripes to the gala instead, so he would at least feel worthy of standing at your side. Then he could wear his academy uniform on reaping day, and claim he forgot the occasion. Would that be believable?
No, of course not. That's the day the Plinth Prize will be awarded.
Hopefully to him. Definitely to him, he had to pray. He was never a religious man- no one really was anymore, but reading about it in pre-Panem history textbooks, he couldn't deny the temptation to beg some higher power for help.
The prize would solve everything.
"You like it?" You ask, drawing him from his internal panic and he nods, smiling.
"Yeah, yes. Wow. It's lovely." He nods, clearing his throat.
"Thank you." You grin, looking down at the dress and smoothing it against your leg a bit to try and get another good look at it yourself.
You let out a soft sigh of contentment before hanging it back up. "Anyway, do you want to do like a matching thing, or is that tacky?" You ask, turning to face him again.
Coryo purses his lips in thought, drumming his fingers on his lap. "I'm not sure. Are other people matching?"
You knew about his situation, of course, though he wasn't fond of talking about it. Obviously not, who would be? It never bothered you, at the end of the day he was still your best friend- even if he never let you come over to the renowned Snow penthouse unless it was some kind of emergency. Regardless, as far as the two of you knew, you were the only one outside of his family who had any idea. And you both intended to do everything you could to keep it that way.
"I think so, I heard some of the other girls talking about it." You say with a shrug. "Just something simple like a matching tie or something, we don't have to go crazy with it."
"Right." He nods, thinking it over.
"Here," You say after a moment, reaching into the bottom of the garment bag and pulling out a much smaller plastic bag with fabric samples in it from when your dress was made. "I asked for more extra than they would normally give for fabric samples, in case we wanted to match. I was hoping we could ask Tigris to make a tie or a pocket square or something, or maybe cover your cuffs with it." You suggest, sitting on the bed next to him and holding out the bag.
His heart aches as he reaches out to take it from your soft hands. It's hard to place, almost- whether or not it's gratefulness or loathing of the fact you had considered such a thing at all. Attending an event with a Snow should not include the accommodation of whether or not they could afford to dress accordingly.
The bitterness fades and settles into thankfulness for you, and all you do for him. Silently. Without discussion, without real, significant thought.
You could be friends with anyone; the girls with wealth enough to bathe in like your own, Sejanus Plinth, even, whose family quite literally bought their way into the Capitol. But you chose him.
Granted, when you chose him, you didn't have the slightest clue of the financial state of his family name, but even when you had stumbled across that fact, it didn't deter you. Coriolanus often wonders why, but who was he to question it? Hell, sometimes he wonders if the roles had been reversed, would he have been so gracious?
"Thanks." Coryo mutters, clearing his throat and nodding. "I mean, she's the expert, so I'll talk to her about what she thinks will work best."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." You agree with a soft laugh that makes him smile by instinct alone. He couldn't help it.
"Um, I meant to ask," Coryo says after a moment, tucking his feet up on the bed and sitting back a bit, getting more comfortable. "Did your coach agree to let you change your song for the year end gala? The one you pitched to her, that was really good. You did amazing. At least, in my opinion but I don't really know what I'm talking about."
"Thank you." You reply through a sigh, laughing slightly as you flop back on the soft cushioned duvet next to him. "But, yes and no. Yes she's letting me do something other than 'Never Enough', but it's not that song I showed her while you were there. She said it was too long and would disrupt the entire schedule, which, in hindsight does make sense and I wouldn't want to do that to everyone else."
"Well, what is it?" Coryo replies, eager to hear something new from you. It was special, he knew that it was. He had seen first hand how badly you wanted to do something else.
You smile, looking up at him as he leaned back on his hands next to you, blue eyes searching yours as if they could somehow portray the answer sooner than your lips- despite you knowing it would be a song he's never heard or even heard of before.
"I decided on something else. It's gonna be a surprise." You answer with a small, almost sly smile while you prop yourself up on your elbow, gazing up at him with your chin in your palm. "But you're gonna love it, I think."
You really hoped he would, at least.
While Coryo protests, tries to squeeze the information out of you in the light-hearted way only a best friend could, you don't budge. The song in title and content reminds you far too much of him; of his pretty face, and electric soul.
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no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!
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the-empress-7 · 2 months
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My completely made-up tin-hat theory about the aquamarine ring is this -
Meghan was lent that aquamarine ring for her reception as something of Harry's mum (Diana) to wear for the big day, and also a sweet nod to something blue. I think William may have had a hand in this decision and it was mainly something nice he did for his brother. Meghan and her PR then ran with it and said she inherited the ring as Harry's wife. The products cycle around that was massive and may have put William and the BRF on high alert with the way Meghan was claiming to now own that ring. There may have been some difficulties getting that ring back from Meghan after that.
I've thought this because very soon after this, during the aus tour, there was an article (in the Times maybe?) that said William had banned Meghan from ever borrowing any BRF jewels. At the time I thought what was this decision based on? Apart from the wedding tiara Meghan had not been lent any other BRF jewels, except for Diana's aquamarine ring. So was there maybe some problem in getting that back from her?
Then she wore the blood diamond earings and made a big deal about how she owns them. And she wore them twice just to make a statement. So who was she making this statement for? The public didn't know the full story then. The staff didn't even know she was going to wear these, so why would she have travelled with those earings all the way to Australia? My guess was that she was showing the middle finger to whoever had said no to loaning her BRF or Diana jewels.
My guess is that because of Williams' position and him being the eldest son all her estate was inherited by William and not infact divided 50/50. When he turned 30, his sisters and brother (who had probably been the caretakers and keeping it at althorp) gave it to him.
Sometimes last year, karen Spencer said as much in her comments section on insta on a Diana related post.
Because of the provenance of her jewellery, it may have gone in bulkto William as part of the estate (ie , inheritance). Harry may have just inherited the money and trust fund. And some smaller keepsakes for sentimental reasons. He likely did not mind this earlier, but Meghan, once she got to know, took offence. But neither of them would say anything against the Spencers and what is likely a perfectly legally binding inheritance situation. .
Talk about stories that are a blast from the past! I think your aquamarine ring theory is pretty solid. If we know anything about Meghan, it's that if you give her an inch she will take a mile.
I do think William banning her from borrowing royal jewelry had to do with Tiara Gate and the appalling way she and Harry treated everyone as a result of it. Also remember that things went south very quickly after the wedding. By the time the Sucks left for ANZ, William had already started the process of kicking them out of the Royal Foundation. The stuff that we the public know, is just the tip of the iceberg.
If Meghan really did still have some of Diana's jewelry in her possession there is no way in hell that she wouldn't be wearing it all the damn time. Instead she is left cosplaying her outfits.
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warwickroyals · 11 months
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Sunderland’s Royal Jewel Vault (5/∞) ♛
↬ Glencairn Lover's Knot Tiara
In terms of jewelry, Sunderland has a very rich history that dates back centuries. The Glencairn lover's knot tiara is one of the oldest in the royal vault and has been passed down, from parent to child, since the days of King George. It is uncertain when this tiara was made. Featuring thirty-eight pear-shaped pearl pendants and lover's knot motifs, the design has proven popular. The Sunderland lover's knot is joined by the Cambridge and Bavarian lover's knot tiaras. All three tiaras were created in the 1800s, and all three are often mistaken for the much younger British version that was commissioned a century later. Despite their similarities, each of these tiaras have a distinct history and providence. In 1837, the Sunderland variant was gifted to Lady Imogen Longford as she prepared to marry the Duke of Glencairn, the second brother of King Louis III. The tiara was among other priceless gifts, for Imogen wasn't just marrying some prince, but a likely future king. The Duke's two older brothers had no surviving legitimate issue, and Sunderland was in the midst of a fierce succession crisis that pitted brother against brother. Ultimately, Imogen never became queen, that prize belonged to her German sister-in-law, Princess Caroline of Mecklenburg-Stralsund. However, Imogen was the mother of a king, giving birth to the future King George in 1839. As a result, most of her jewels are still worn by members of the royal family to this day. Sunderland's lover's knot tiara is perhaps the most famous of Imogen's jewels, having been worn by princesses and queens from every generation succeeding her. Despite rumours that the tiara is noisy, producing an awful "clacking" sound with every step its wearer takes, it has been a favourite of Queen Matilda Mary, Queen Anne, and Queen Irene in unflinching succession. The tiara is easy to fiddle with, flexible, with the top rows of pearls being removable. Since the 1830s it has starred in countless portraits, official images, and state events. Today, the tiara is on a long-term loan to Tatiana, Princess of Danforth who debuted the tiara in 2001. Since then the tiara has become her one of her most worn, next to her family's own diamond tiara. With the lover's knot's enduring popularity, it will be interesting to see who will don the sparkler next—at this point, it's almost a rite of passage.
A 1927 portrait of Queen Matilda Mary. She wears the tiara with its 18 pearl toppers.
Tatiana, Princess of Danforth wears the tiara sans toppers at a reception in June, 2018.
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maple-the-awesome · 2 years
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Heir ||
Pairing: Mob! (any) Peter Parker x Reader
Words: 2,825
Requested by Anonymous: Okay so can u write (or if u don't take request can we just discuss?) about mob! Peter Parker when the reader is pregnant?? Like he'd be absolutely hyperactive and take care of her every second. Not leaving her for a sec alone and then taking all his work into his office at home bc he just wants to stay near to her. Constantly spoiling her and buying her everything she is craving, baby proofing the whole house, constantly having sex bc she is extra horny and then of course talking to her baby bump when he thinks she's fast asleep!! Just . So. Cute. I'm always a sucker for pregnant reader stories. Here you go 💜 Warning: Suggestive/Explicit content (nothing too detailed, but the request does involve a horny pregnant reader and Peter's a deliverer, sooo~)
Marvel Masterlist 🖤 Fandom Masterlist 🖤 Requests
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Peter Parker, a young tycoon from upscale New York who likes to attend the most lavish of social gatherings and only owns what is considered 'top of the line' be it clothes, jewelry, houses, cars - you name it, but that is, of course, a part of his carefully constructed public image. Hidden in secret and shadows, his name is one often whispered as a form of jinx from the mouths of the criminal class. They understand the red ink Mr. Parker's name is written with; they know the true nature of his work.
Peter has quite the reputation, to put it short. Extortion, loan sharking, and corruption of public officials can be considered the 'nicer' side of his dealings, although seeing the exact lengths most individuals go through just to avoid a frown upon his face, it can easily be concluded that he's perfectly willingly to go much further if business calls for it.
He's headstrong and cold meaning that, once he sets his mind to something, there is no convincing him otherwise unless a certain voice is to plead it. There is a voice that can speak louder than his all by a mere breath against his ear; a sound sweet enough to poison his every thought, shatter his iron will, and remove that fearsome reputation of his like a form of temporary baptism.
For you, his precious wife, there is only 'Peter', a loving husband so devoted to the one who holds his heart that he would remove mountains if you preferred the view, carve the earth until it's hallow if you desire a gown of rare gems, and set fire to all of New York just to see your face shine in the golden flames. For you alone, Peter will take a knee, being whatever pleases you, although at the moment, all you ask is that he accepts defeat.
It's quite amusing really. Within the years of your marriage, you've heard countless accounts about how savage and gruesome your dear husband is; the wolf from fairy tales or, more fitting to his nickname, a spider haunting the dreams of those with severe arachnophobia. You'd be more inclined to believe such stories if not for how adorable he currently looks, his legs sprawled out across the floor as he struggles to put together the complex design yet remains very adamant that he will not be accepting defeat against a pile of rosewood.
You've been here watching the scene for well over an hour now, sitting rather comfortably yourself in a new rocking chair while snuggled up in an equally young silk blanket, soft cotton pajamas, and wool socks with a warm mug of ginger tea housed in your hands.
Without anything else to truly do and knowing full well any offers of assistance will continue to be denied (you've tried), you have taken to either sitting or pacing about the room every now and again to stretch your aching back, but you make sure to do the latter sparring since you've discovered the more you move, the more you increase poor Peter's worry.
The record so far is five minutes before your husband is hovering at your side, fussing like a British nanny over something: do you need anything, princess? Medicine? Another blanket? Is it too cold in here? Too warm? Perhaps it's best if you go lay down or shall we go for a walk in the garden for some fresh air?
It's amusing to you how doting Peter can be - well, how much more doting he can be, is a better way of putting it. Truth be told, he has always been an attentive husband, existing at your every beckon and call despite his own busy work schedule.
Each morning, you awake to kisses down your collarbone and a freshly picked flower next to your plate at breakfast. Throughout the day, he spares every possible second that he can for your request, becoming all yours during those breaks no matter how short. Do you want to read together in the library? Eat lunch in the garden if he has that much time? Peter has never been against any suggestion regardless of how rushed he may be in the moment, going as far as to sneak into the nearest closest for…Well, you can probably use your imagination for that part.
Peter prides himself on rarely letting you down, pained too deeply by your tears and too afraid of your shouts (a funny thought considering what his job entails). Fortunately, your fights are few and far inbetween, his anger reserved for work alone, not his precious wife who, quite honestly, is the only good thing to enter his hectic life aside from May and even Ben when he was still around - Oh, and also that little life you currently carry within your womb; they’re a fairly recent add on to Peter's list of loved ones.
You remember it like just yesterday when you had first told him the news. You, yourself, had been a nervous wreck despite having been actively trying for children. All of your preparation and desires seemed to instantly go out the window in that moment, replaced by the weight of the world upon your shoulders as you stared at that little white test confirming for certain that you are, in fact, carrying the weight of a little world inside of you.
Pregnant? Are you really ready to do this? Can you really be a good mom or will you somehow mess it up? What if Peter was only pacifying you when he offered to fulfill your desire of bearing his children? What if he wasn't being honest then and actually detests the idea of children running around his mansion, screaming and creating messes as children typically do? So many worries plagued your mind that day, all put to rest once receiving Peter's true reaction.
It took him a minute - actually four - where he just stared at you, letting the wheels turn inside his head while carefully asking if you were being serious. Then, within seconds - which is no exaggeration -, you were within his arms, your face soon cupped in his hands as he tearfully asked you the same question again followed by giddy laughter when you confirmed it a third time.
Your husband has always been doting, however now that you hold his child - his heir - this behavior has been increased tenfold. You officially bear double the importance to him, thus any harm that may befall you would become his downfall leading to him collapsing in on himself like a dying star (excuse his dramatics). Therefore, Peter has amplified his protective and attentive behaviors, becoming a hyperactive presence in your life that can be admittedly overwhelming at times.
It began plainly enough with him moving all of his work to the home office where he could be within range of your calls for every second of the day. Parties, business trips, and anything else that would require traveling became forbidden, not that he ever cared much for them anyways. Security had also been added upon with Peter triple checking all interviews and background checks which were usually entrusted to his right-hand man, Miles, who has never steered him wrong before, but one can never be too careful.
While not bad in the beginning, Peter’s anxieties soon became suffocating. His innocent research into all things parenthood soon started viewing every piece of advice or recommendations as holy. The doctor said too much of something isn't good to eat? Then you won't taste a grain! There can be germs around the mansion that cause you illness? Everything must be washed! Everything! Oh, and the mansion must be entirely baby proof! Each corner, every nook and crank - Nothing left to chance! Simply put, Peter doesn't want to take any chances, treating you as if you're some sort of ticking time bomb which is, in a way, true given your horrendous mood swings at times.
For a while there, it felt that Peter was coming to you everyday with something new he wanted to try. Playing certain music to help the baby's development or drafting a new meal plan that gets rid of some of your favorites because a certain ingredient isn't 'good for you'. Being currently drained due to a changing body, you’ve been in no mood for Peter's 'crowding', and the meal thing had been your final straw. He unfortunately learned this the hard way when you finally lost your patience resulting in a full hour of shouting at him then another sobbing your apologies. 
After that day, Peter has backed off a little. He still spends every night reading parent books which are left stacked at his bedside, but he's much more reasonable with his suggestions and has learned to not believe everything he reads, usually running it through Aunt May first just to be sure he won't get his head ripped off if he brings the information to you (yeah, you're not quite sure he's recovered from the trauma of your scolding, poor baby). 
Of course, you can never truly be mad at Peter for caring, something he knows, too. Pregnancy is stressful both mentally and physically, thus it's lovely to have a husband just as willing to trek through the ugly as he is to observe the beauty. 
As it's hopefully been made clear, he has no issue in spoiling you. Anything you want is yours to have. Are you craving some foreign food? He'll have it flown in or hire a special chief to prepare it just for you. Do you wish for cuddles? He'll move his schedule around the best he can to accommodate for a day in bed, snuggled in mounts of blankets as you rest comfortably in his arms. Even if you're suffering from horrible mood swings, be it awful crying or livid screaming, he will happily endure it feeling it's the least he can do in return for all his wife is doing for him.
Oh, and then there's the sex. Why hadn't anyone told you being pregnant would make you this horny? Some days, you're barely able to keep your hands off of poor Peter (not that he's actually suffering in any shape or form, quite the opposite). Of course, you blame him for it because not only did he make you this way, but he insists on being in the same room as you practically all hours of the day. How are you not to leap at him when he's sitting right there, looking all hot and sexy as he runs his hand through his hair or bites his lip in concentration while going over paperwork?
…Yeah...Peter's probably fucked you more than he's actually completed any of his work, but when your wife is sitting on top of your lap, peppering your neck in kisses and pawing at your erection all while swelling with your baby within her womb? What's a man to do?
Looking back at how perfect Peter has been, you don't think you could ever feel more confident in who you've married. He could've turned you away that first day you asked him to impregnate you, he could be doing the bare minimum without any personal inference just to keep you ‘happy’ and out of his hair, but instead, he has remained loyal to his responsibilities, going above and beyond in the name of pure love. It's enough to make you swoon (and maybe a little aroused, damn your hormones), however at the moment, you're a bit too tired to express any of it outwardly. Maybe later when you have the energy for something more physical. 
Right now, you only wish to close your eyes, enjoying the warm sun which floods through the window at just the right angle that it blankets you in the rocking chair - something you're sure Peter took into consideration when planning the layout of this nursery. Bless him indeed. 
You have zero intentions in moving, too warm and too at peace especially since the baby has finally stopped wiggling around like a little worm inside of you. Not wanting to disrupt the precious bean, you'll remain put in silence where you can both rest together.
You hear Peter give an exasperated groan from where he sits on the floor. Based on it, you're certain he must have his hands in his hair, tugging at the roots. Accompanied with the sound of him stretching his legs and the amount of time it takes him to actually stand up, you'd guess it must've been hell for his muscles to stay in such a position for so long, not that you feel that bad, only for a second at most. If you've survived seven months of your entire body aching, he can surely manage a numb feeling in his legs for a few minutes. 
He tip toes over the hurricane of wood planks, but gives a good kick to some of the screws with a hissed breath and hands placed on his hips. He'll have to ask Miles for someone who can build this damned crib for him, he doesn't have the patience to fiddle with it any longer, but at least his anger is forgotten once he looks at you. The golden sun dressed over your face, the peaceful rest of your skin and slight part of your cherry lips as you take in each breath: you’re truly the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, a fact he is constantly reminded of especially in the small moments like this.
Peter wonders if your baby will take after you. He desperately hopes so, if not in appearance than at least in personality. He hopes that whoever they end up being, it isn't anything like him. Although he was happy to take Uncle Ben's place in the business, it wasn't what Ben wanted and, now that he is going to be a father himself, Peter finally understands that.
The more he thinks of his precious child, the more certain Peter becomes that he doesn't want them to be his heir. He doesn't want them to know violence or bloodshed, lies and deceit. He doesn't want them to tell the other children at school that their daddy is their hero - to ever think such a thing in admiration because that would just be the first step down his path.
He wants them to be like you. He wants them to be kind and patient, fair and dignified. He wants their love, yes, but he also wants them to be realistic as you are - to know that what he does for a living isn't truly a good thing and that they should strive to be something more, something better. They don't need to be proud of him, but he will forever be proud of them. That's what Uncle Ben wanted for him, and while he failed on that front himself, he hopes his child can do better; he'll do better by being around to lead them down that right path. 
Kneeled in front of you, Peter whispers all these things, his hands gracing your swollen stomach as he makes a trail of endless promises to the unborn child who can’t process any of it at the moment, however that's fine; Peter will be there to remind them of his love throughout the rest of their life. 
"...I can't wait to meet them..." He hushes, pressing his lips to your stomach in a long kiss. Only a few more months and he'll be able to do the same to their forehead. He'll likely never stop either, not if he remains this drunk on admiration towards them.
You smile, blinking open your eyes to gaze down at him, "They can't wait to meet you either."
"How do you know?" He challenges playfully, leaning into your touch when your hand rests upon his cheek, always so warm to him.
"Because they kick anytime they hear your voice," you explain, letting your other hand fall onto your stomach, "They were sleeping peacefully until you started talking. Now they’re wide awake waiting for you to say more."
"I'm sorry," he doesn't look it, a delighted smile still tugging at his lips. He always apologizes, although he's far from being meaningful. Sorry that you must endure so much pain and stress, but not sorry that it's all going to be for your beloved child. Nine months in return for a life which will continue to grow and carry the best traits of you both, isn’t that a good deal?
Fortunately for your husband, you have never been truly mad, agreeing that it’ll indeed be worth it in the end. Slumping back your head against the chair, you close your eyes again and hum as you remind him, "...Peter, they're waiting for you to say more."
He beams, dropping his head lightly against your stomach where his ear can press against your covered skin as if it’ll allow him the deepest connection with the life waiting inside, "Then I will say more."
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thecoochiefairy · 1 year
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𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖒
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
more suckin’ and fuckin’. beware !
𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐌𝐀’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.
“PUT YOUR CARDS UP, MOTHERFUCKER.”
Sin has her eyes squinted as she stares with a vengeance, the deck of cards in her hands hovered over the rest of her face as she hides them. Aries sits across from her with an equally competitive look. They had been playing Uno for about two hours now, unable to quit the game since Aries had yet to win a round. It had gotten to a point where they were now gambling the children’s game, taking this as seriously as they would anything else.
“The color is…green,” Sin grins.
“Green? Again? You’ fuckin’ with me now,” Aries curses, drawing another card as Sin begins dancing in hopes that it’d piss him off.
“Awe, no greens in that deck?” Sin teases, taking a scoop out of the ice cream carton she holds, placing the spoon in her mouth as she takes her cards back in her hands.
“I said I’ve had no greens since we started this round, but I bet you knew that. You’ probably know every single card I have!”
Sin gasps, “Are you accusing me of cheating?”
“I just might be. Now stop stalling, put your cards down.”
“Hm, you might be onto something, cause I have another green,” Sin shrugs, placing her card down as she’s now left with two. Aries then places two of his cards down, Sin then scoffing.
“Nuh-uh, playboy! Who said we was stacking? We never agreed to that!”
“Imma’ do what I have to do to win this game, I want all my money back!”
“Looks like you’re gonna need a loan, cause—“ Sin then places all of her cards down, all of them shining the color of green against the table, “Uno, Uno out, all that good shit!” She cheers. Aries throws his cards down as she slides the money in between them closer, giggling evilly.
“That’s a damn shame,” he shakes his head, “I’m never playing with you again, thief.”
“Yeah, yeah. But uh— this ain’t enough for me, the hell I’m supposed to do with ten dollars?”
“Make it enough?” Aries frowns, “What the hell else do you want? You’ve already stolen my pride.”
“Hmm,” she thinks to herself, scanning the infinite amount of jewelry he wears, a thought then appearing in her mind.
“You gon’ have to come up off that chain.”
Aries places his hand over his chest, looking around at the other people standing around the Training Building as he asks, “Who you talking to? You can’t be talking about my chain.”
“Sure am. Specifically the biggest one, that Jesus piece. Cough it up,” She places her hand out, clacking her nails together as she waits.
“C’mon, pretty—“
“Oh spare me that, the new found nickname is cute, but it ain’t enough. I’m waiting!”
“I’ll do anything else…I’ll roll all your blunts, rub your ass until you fall asleep, hang from the corner of the table by my shirt, please?”
“All sounds appealing, but not as appealing as that chain. Now remove it before I get to moving shit with my mind.”
Aries groans, mumbling curses under his breath as he removes the chain from around his neck. Although he wants to slam it down in her hand, he gently places it in her palm. Sin smiles as she takes the jewelry and clasps it around her neck, the large gold piece shining along her brown skin. She stands from the table as she dances in a circle, modeling the piece as she teases, “Mhm, you like?”
“You look alright. But nah, forreal, we doing another round. I need my shit back immediately,” he responds, suppressing the smile that wants to come upon his face as he watches her.
“I’ll tell you what,” she then sits back down, removing the necklace and placing it back in her palm as she requests, “Come get it back.”
Aries tilts his head, “You tryna’ be funny?”
“Nope. You want it back, come take it from me,” she taunts, smiling evilly as she sees his facial expression.
He raises an eyebrow, “You wanna play?”
“I don’t see you making no moves yet,” she recalls, swinging the pendant back and forth in front of him, quickly moving her hand back as she sees him lean forward. She then puckers her lips as she smooches towards him.
“We snatching chains? Count me in the game!”
Sin and Aries both turn their heads as Buffy appears with Elijah and Trey behind her, all of them seating themselves at the table with the two.
“I’m already up a Jesus Piece, try your chances,” Sin invites. Aries shakes his head as he disagrees, “She is enjoying the five minutes she got with my shit. I’ll go get another set of cards, there isn’t enough for five people.”
He stands from the table and makes his way towards the kitchen, Sin looking back as she sees all three of them smiling weirdly at her. She frowns, “What?”
“Nothing. I just see that y’all both got each other’s noses wide open,” Buffy teases.
“Girl bye, kiss my ass,” Sin chuckles.
“No thank you, seems like Aries has been doing enough of that!” Trey flicks a card at her, Elijah unable to hold back his laugh as well.
“Fuck you,” Sin chuckles.
In the week that had gone by, Sin feared ever since her and Aries were intimate that it would’ve been awkward or change their relationship entirely. It instead brought them closer together. It did make them more lustful for one another, hence her friends making fun of her for it. With her body transitioning and her senses heightened with everything she did, intimacy felt a thousand times better with the benefit of never becoming tired. She wanted to tell herself that she was using it as a distraction, but she couldn’t deny the connection she felt with him, sex or not.
“Aries must be putting that shit down when there’s a constant smile on your face. Has hell finally frozen over?” Trey gasps.
“You don’t have to question that, I got the chance to hear them go at it. I’d watch, sounds like y’all be having a great time,” Buffy shrugs.
“What?” Sin’s eyes went wide, “Why didn’t you tell me you heard me?”
“Oh girl, don’t be shy. Me and Blue came to Adonis’ place cause he was looking for Aries, when we opened the door we just happened to hear,” Buffy shrugs off, Sin unable to help but feel embarrassed.
She wasn’t trying to broadcast her and Aries’ newfound part of their relationship, but she knew there was no way in hiding it either. She could tell Aries didn’t have a problem publicly expressing his feelings towards her, but she could admit that it made her a little uncomfortable due to it being something she’d never experienced. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel for him either, she just wanted to make sure the sex wasn’t the reason for it.
Sin raises her eyes as she sees Aries appear back with a new set of cards, Buffy then complimenting her as she continues to poke fun, “I love you in a black dress, who you looking sexy for?”
Her bare face and freckles combination looked almost russet from being in the sun, cobalt hair and body-con onyx dress complimenting her well. She could feel Aries’ eyes suddenly on her, unsure why the stare he had made her skin feel warm.
“Me and Sin went down to New Orleans this morning to a crystal shop, nothing too special,” Elijah explained, offering a deck of cards to Buffy.
“Rude, and you didn’t invite me?” Buffy turns to Sin, snatching the cards from Elijah’s hand.
“The man came knocking on my door asking to drive with him at seven this morning, girl. You were asleep,” Sin blinks.
“True. Still could’ve texted,” she playfully rolls her eyes.
“You uh…heard from Cloud?” Sin then changes the topic, her friends seeing the worry upon her face.
‘He said he hasn't been feeling well, been in his room for about a week now,” Elijah shrugs. She nods her head, unable to respond. Rethinking their entire situation just made her stomach ache. 
“I need to borrow Sin real quick, my pops just mind linked me,” Aries announces.
“What happened?” It took Sin’s attention, placing her cards down against the table.
“He needs to talk to you about getting in contact with Faye from Elysian. He’s tryna’ set up another meeting,” He explains.
“Why does he need me to talk to Faye?” She frowns.
“He said maybe she’d be more comfortable talking to you, I don’t know,” Aries shrugs.
Sin rolls her eyes, not in the mood to have any important discussions. At the same time she’s not the one to go against Adonis, so she stands from her seat and passes her cards to Elijah.
“Hold these for me, lovely. I trust you won’t look at them,” she grabs her carton of ice cream, placing her purse next to him as well.
“Got you,” Elijah nods, putting them beside himself.
“Sure you coming back?” Buffy teases, the rest of them watching as Aries is already walking towards the meeting room.
“Yes, be prepared to get that ass whooped once I come back!” She calls, now following behind Aries once they continue their game.
Sin continues to walk behind Aries as they enter the quiet hallway, her eyes focused on her carton of ice cream as she absentmindedly enters the meeting room and hears the door close. When she looks up, she sees that the room is completely empty, chairs against the walls as if no one had been in there for days.
“Um, are they coming now?”
“Nope,” Aries replies. Sin shrieks as he lifts her onto the table effortlessly, scooting her closer to him by her thighs.
“You lied to get me out of the Uno game? Damn shame,” she shakes her head, Aries placing his lips against her neck and kissing passionately along her skin. She presses her unoccupied hand against his chest as she laughs, “What did you need?”
“I haven’t been alone with you in a couple of days,” he travels his hand to the back of her neck, keeping his eyes upon hers.
“Boy, I came to your room this morning and have been with you since then. I was busy last night,” she explains.
“Doing what?”
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow, “Don’t be getting all nosey. I hung out with Mariah and Buffy, we went to Dutchess— one of the girls in your pack— she does piercings.”
“Nobody being nosey, I’m just asking. You got anything?”
“I got a tongue piercing, but then immediately removed it, hence why I’m eating ice cream. I was thinking about getting another tattoo, but the healing process is kinda a pain in the ass—which I’m not understanding, I heal extremely quickly everywhere else,” she banters, Aries continuing to latch along the skin of her neck as he sucks aggressively.
“Mhm,” he pushes her to continue, hands traveling down her body as his fingers find the top of her dress. He easily pulls it down, seeing the cross in between her breast as he pulls the material to her abdomen.
“Are you listening?”
“Yeah. I like this dress,” he compliments.
“The dress or the way I look in it?” She plays along.
“The way you look out of it,” he replies. Sin lifts her hips as he pulls the dress to the floor, now leaving her bare as she wears nothing under.
Aries takes one of his hands, reaching out to gain access to the ice cream container beside the both of them. He leans back a bit to press his finger into the cup, Sin watches as he then runs his finger over her neck,  the coldness making her jump.
Tracing the vanilla ice cream from her collarbone to her abdomen, Aries couldn't help but admire how lost her eyes became with just the littlest movements of his fingers. She was practically hypnotized.
He ran his tongue all the way down her stomach, Sin giggling at the ticklish feeling as he spread her legs wider and lifted them over his shoulders. Dragging her to the end of the table, he gently pressed kisses along her inner thighs which coaxed her to let out a breathy exhale. The advantage of her wearing no underwear had her bare opening glistening tempestuously, her posture completely normal all up until his tongue ran along her clit.
She ignited his taste buds, groaning at how something so vulgar was alluring, locking his mouth down as he sucked wildly. Sin’s lower abdomen trembled at the merciless action. Her upper body seated up as he slowly shoved his fingers inside of her, scissoring her open and Aries listening as she moaned in his ears. Her long acrylics rubbed at the pattern of his waves, his nose inhaling her vanilla scent and delectable taste, a mixture of inebriety that he now desired for.
Not having the patience for any foreplay, they pulled one another into a kiss that caused Sin to sigh through her nose. She kept her arm around his neck as he picked her up from the table, alarming her to wrap her legs around his waist, back colliding with another cold surface that had been the wall across from them. Aries bent his body to lock his forearms under her knees, Sin flexible enough to make her knees press directly along the wall.  His arms were now the only thing holding her up. Sin was now planted only a few inches below him,  fire in her eyes as she stared up at him, the bright hues of blue from her hair stuck to parts of her face yet she looked flawless to him.
  He slides into her, a gasp he hadn’t gotten tired of hearing streaming past her lips. Aries slammed in after their hips touched, deep enough to have her chest release all air she breathed.
  He relentlessly fucked her, her throat locked tight although her mouth had been parted for her to release mewls for him. He cocked his head to the side as he looked down at her, figuring he should do something to get her to actually speak. He then pulled out of her until only the tip kissed at her opening, Sin groaning from the loss of fullness, begging quietly, “Don’t stop.”
He dragged out the tension as he slid her back down, Sin slapping a palm across her mouth as she let her muscles relax, moaning loudly that she felt as though someone would hear.
  "There you go," Aries arrogantly muttered, waiting for that reaction as he beckoned, “Tell me it feels good.”
  "Yes. Yes, it feels good," Her eyes watered, hands precariously slapping against his back to dig her nails into his skin, tiredly gazing into his eyes. Her stomach coiled to inform her of the heavy orgasm approaching her body.
  "Tell me when you're cumming."
  Her hand flew back to cover her mouth, eyes wide as they bore directly into his, small tears leaking down her face as she muffled her own sounds. She said something, but he couldn't hear her. He fucked her harder to get an answer.
  "I can't hear you." He went to kiss her neck, feeling the vibrations from her throat on his lips.
  "Yes, I'm cumming," She gasped, pulling her hand away as her eyes fluttered shut.
"I'm cumming,” she repeated again.
  "You cumming?" He teased, making his voice a beneficial aid to her orgasm, Sin nodding vigorously. She makes herself dizzy as she lands her lips right back on his, Aries parting his lips to descend his tongue across her own, Sin keening and wrapping her arms around his neck to deepen their kiss.
  "I'm cumming." She answered him asthmatically amongst his lips one last time, her orgasm rippling through as her chest collapsed on Aries’. Her arms are ready to snap like twigs. It was silent, accepting her climax striking at her like thunder bolts. She released the loudest moan she’s sure she’d done at this moment, dragging out the words to make it more definite.
“Cum inside me," she pleaded, Aries staring at her like she had lost her damn senses. She definitely wasn't in her right mind at the moment. "Please."
  "Sin—“
  She reaches between them to take hold of him, pulling him back in and lowering her legs to wrap them around his waist. She rocks her hips down to let him feel how much wetter she became, the squelch echoing in the room evident to their ears which had Aries grunt. She ran her tongue across his Adam's apple, bringing her face back up as she lowly laughed, pure lust against her face.
  "Do it, please.”
Aries spread her ass apart with his fingers and took a step back so they could be away from the wall. He drove into her, flesh pinched between his finger tips, abdomen tingling and giving her his last few movements before he released inside her. Sin blissfully closed her eyes and trembled at the feeling, call her crazy.
“You tryna’ trap me,” he states, lips almost touching hers as he breathes heavily into her mouth.
Sin teases, “Boy—please,” going to lower her hand and grab between his legs. The sudden vibration of her phone against the table catches her attention, her eyes able to read that it was a text from Sybil.
Sin’s entire posture changes. It annoys her with the kind of power this woman holds over her. Sybil could change her entire energy by something as simple as her texting, she really didn’t want to know what she needed.
“Fuck,” she mutters.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sybil wants me to come visit her,” she becomes irritated, releasing her arm from around his neck yet he still holds her, seating her lower half on the table with his arm wrapped around her waist.
“You need to go talk to her anyways. Tell her what’s been going on and ask her about Oseidon,” Aries points out, ignoring the way her eyes rise up to look at him with displeasure.
“Ask her what? She’s just gonna lie.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t care enough to be the villain that she’ll tell you everything you need to know? You don’t even know what’s gonna happen once you get there.”
“You’re a great help,” Sin smiles, nothing behind it.
“I’m just saying that you need to go talk to her. If you feel like you have nothing to say to her, the least you can do is go ask about what’s going on with your dad. I know you want to hear about that,” Aries encourages.
She doesn’t want him to be right, but she knows that she’s itching to know anything about Iver. If he’d awoken, moved, even if he breathed heavier than usual. She wanted to be able to talk to him instead of Sybil, but considering she was the only person she had back in New Salem, she figured— fuck it.
“Okay,” she simply says, not wanting to talk about it anymore.
“Okay?”
“Okay, Aries,” she brushes him off.
“I’m not tryna be your father or anything, I’m just saying. You being stubborn isn’t gonna help you or the people in your coven. The faster you talk to her, the further we can figure out all this witch hunter bullshit.”
“Yeah,” Sin sighs, “I know. I’ll be fine, imma’ just talk to her and let Adonis know what she says.”
“When you plan on leaving?”
“It’s still pretty early, I wanna get this done as quickly as possible so— I’ll probably pack now and then head out,” she plans.
“Okay. I um…wanted to ask you something?”
“Yeah?” She halts her movements of getting dressed, her eyes boring into his movements that suddenly become nervous.
“Well—not ask. I wanted to…..apologize…”
“For?”
“...I realized it might make you uncomfortable if I put my hand around your throat during sex. Maybe even a trigger or sum’—“
“Aries, that’s sweet, baby. But you’re fine,” Sin can’t contain the small laugh at his random concern.
“You sure? Cause I can stop,” he suggests.
“I accepted your apology about it the first time, and I’m accepting it now, okay? You have my consent. It’s actually enjoyable when it isn’t murderous,” she kisses his chin a couple of times, Aries uttering, “Doesn’t make me feel too much better about it but I hear you.”
Her heart squeezes in her chest as he leans down and actually kisses her, rising upwards as he then wraps his arm around her shoulders and plants his lips upon her forehead. They sit in a comfortable silence.
“Want a little sum’ before you go?—“
“And you ruin the moment,” Sin sighs, “Boy, one— you just gave me some dick. Two, I’m gonna use this time to give my coochie some hibernation. If you’re not eating it, you’re fucking it.”
“Thought you didn’t get tired?” He pokes fun.
“Mmm, my body doesn’t get tired. My vagina however, wants a little breather. Is that okay?”
“When you was gonna tell me that you like for me to nut in you?” He changes the subject.
“Uh— I don’t know? I didn’t think it was anything important to tell you.”
“Are you on…?”
“Why the fuck would I ask you to cum in me if I didn’t have anything to protect myself?” She shoos off his hands, grabbing for her dress that’s on the ground and she begins putting it back on.
“I don’t know, maybe you’re just psychotic,” he grabs her ass as she bends over, Sin swatting his hand aggressively.
“Funny. I’m a witch, but that doesn’t make me a woman without a uterus—or ovaries that can create babies. Sybil has this spell, she calls it a ‘Plan W.’”
“….Like Plan B?”
“What’s that?”
“Do you know anything forreal’?”
“Bite me,” she spits, adjusting her dress as she grabs for her phone. She doesn’t realize that Aries is right behind her again.
“Say less—“
She yelps as he tries to grab for her, jerking out of the way as she opens the door and slams it behind herself. She could deal with his nymphomaniac tendencies later.
                                               -
THE TWO HOURS OF SILENCE WAS ALMOST THERAPEUTIC. Sin being able to swim in the ocean of her own mind gave her time to figure out how she wanted to go about this conversation with Sybil. She didn’t want to be catty or bitchy. Peaceful was the word that continued to cross her mind. When she arrived at New Salem, she spoke to a few of the people that still decided to stay despite everything going on, letting them in on what information she had. She knew she was stalling at this point.
But once she arrived at her grandmother's house, greeted her with a hug and Sybil responded with a look of confusion— she was entirely wrong about her approach. Sin now sat across from her at the dining table as she stared down as the beignets waiting to be ingested. It was unfortunate that she was entirely too annoyed to overkill her favorite dessert.
“What happened to us, Sin?”
Sin’s blank stare disappears as she looksat Sybil, immediately ready to pounce at such an empty question. She quickly fires back, “Us? What happened to you? I’m good on my side.”
“Well amuse me then. Tell me about some things going on in your life,” Sybil suggests.
“I’m not in the mood to entertain, why do you care?”
“I can’t be interested in what my granddaughter has to say?” Sybil asks, her voice anything less but condescending in Sin’s ears.
“No, you can’t be. Considering you’ve never been interested until it’s time to have a serious conversation and you’re trying to avoid it.”
“Have you been…feeling any different?”
“Why would I— what the hell are you talking about?” Sin frowns, ready to get up and walk out.
Sybil eyes her up and down, the previous question not nearly as bad as she then asks Sin, “Have you been having sex?”
“What?” Sin feels her heart had sunk to her ass, “W—What does this have to do with anything?! Why do you need to know who I’m—giving my goodies to?!”
Sybil still remains calm although her questions are absolutely insane. Her posture of carelessness Sin never carried within herself, it almost made her enraged.
“You’re being real’ weird right now,” Sin squints, “Anyways. Since you wanna know so much, I’ll tell you we haven’t got much information out of any place we’ve been to. Except that despite us all being in the same boat, it doesn’t make us ally’s.  We went to Oseidon and were kidnapped. Did you know that?”
“Not up until this moment,” Sybil replies, taking a small plate beside her and placing a beignet upon it.
“You sure?”
“If you’re trying to get at anything specific, please spare the passive aggression,” Sybil sighs. Sin scoffs, crossing her arms.
“I don’t know, stuff just doesn’t seem to add up. While being held hostage they told us that confidential information was released by a witch. They seemed to believe I was that powerful witch they spoke upon, but I don’t recall being the most powerful witch at this moment,” she sarcastically shrugs.
“You should take it as a compliment.”
“You tryna’ be funny?”
“No, but you are being a smart ass.”
“We were there for an entire week, grandma. Tortured and probed on some bullshit vendetta that wasn’t even for us,” Sin becomes serious, trying to allow Sybil to understand the severity of the situation.
“Tortured, how so?”
“Tortured as in tortured. Pheme and Cloud were critically assaulted, he refuses to tell me the specifics of what happened—“
“You don’t know something that happened to your partner…whom you’re supposed to share everything with?” Sybil’s face fills with a confusion that makes Sin want to itch.
“Is that what you’re seriously taking out of this entire conversation?”
“Well you can’t seem to answer the question of what happened to Cloud or anyone else, so maybe the extremity to you may be hyperbolized.”
“Hyperbolized?” Sin raises her eyebrows. She laughed at how pointless talking to her felt, knowing that when she arrived home it would come with some bullshit, but she didn’t think it would be this bad.
“I’m over this. Where’s my father?” She stands from the table.
“Why can’t you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about anything you have going on, Sin?”
“Our relationship started off with you only wanting to use me for your advantage. Not for the fact that your first and only son gave you a grandchild, not because I could’ve continued the legacy of my mother. This relationship is strictly business at this point. I’m gonna make sure our coven is protected and you could do me a favor by doing the same. Now what’s going on with Iver?” Sin can feel her temperature rising, imagining herself jumping across the table.
“We moved him to his bedroom and made sure he’s bathed and comfortable, that’s all I can tell you,” Sybil shrugs, bringing the mug she holds up to her lips.
“That’s it?”
“That’s all,” Sybil stirs the spoon inside the cup, holding the handle across from her face.
“Hm. It’s funny, you had me drive two hours to interrogate me, yet you bring absolutely nothing to the table. You always cry about how you want us to work things out. Here I am, look what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing to you, exactly?”
“You’re not doing anything to me. But you are lying,” Sin fires back.
A flash of emotion comes across Sybil’s face. It’s like she’d almost cracked, like she wasn’t expecting Sin to catch onto her undermining ways. She’d seen this before, the animatronic movements Faye responded with in Elysian.
“Sin, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Oh! You don’t want to talk anymore? After having me waste my time and come all the way down here to please you, you don’t want to talk anymore. That’s fine. I’m leaving—“
“I didn’t say you had to leave, Sin,” Sybil reminds.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s late at night, and that’s a long drive.”
“Because it’s late at night,” Sin repeats, almost bored.
“You haven’t finished your beignets,” Sybil then points out, pushing them to her side of the table as she continues, “You can head back to doggy daycare tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t asking for permission to head back to Providence. Have you even spoken to Adonis?”
“Why do you think I called you?”
“You can’t be more ridiculous,” Sin blatantly states.
“Why don’t you tell me about this boy that’s on your mind?”
Sin’s taken aback. She clears her throat as she interrogates, “Who said anything about—“
“You’ve clearly got it all wrong about thinking I don’t know you.”
Sin seats herself back in the chair. She figures that she needs to make this two hour drive worth the time, maybe a grandmother's touch to all of her personal issues wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Sybil did know her more than she thought.
“Well…you’re right. There’s another boy.”
“You’re interested in him?”
“Interested is a bit of a loose term,” Sin mutters, taking a small plate from the middle of the table in preparation to take a beignet.
“How so?”
“Um— we really like each other? It’s just too much going on to elevate in terms of an official relationship. So for now—“
“For now you just have sex.”
Sin can feel her cheeks becoming warm, now dreading the fact that she allowed herself to open up to Sybil.
“Not exactly?” Sin twiddles her fingers.
“Okay, y’all have—fun together. Let’s say that,” Sybil corrects herself.
“Yeah, fun. He’s just— he’s been a comfort to me despite everything going on with Cloud, Pheme and Nadia. After the whole situation happened at Oseidon they completely shut me out, and the pack members have been really supportive towards me. More than my own family. They’re starting to feel like family more,” Sin admits.
“Well let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, Sin. You can’t trust them so easily. Don’t be naive, a wolf will always be a wolf.”
“What?” Sin frowns, “They’ve been more trusting in these months then you’ve been!”
“So now we’re back to bickering,” Sybil sighs, drained of Sin’s back and forth emotions.
“Maybe they can teach us something, grandma. The way that Providence is united is something we need.”
“So you’re turning on me?”
“You know that’s not what I meant, grandma,” Sin pinches the bridge of her nose.
“If you want to befriend those dogs, fine by me.”
“Don’t call them that.”
Sybil finds that statement amusing, laughing as she replies, “You get offended as if you are one!”
Sybil continues laughing, unaware that Sin has gone quiet at that statement. Sin stands from the table and pushes the beignets back to the middle, grabbing her belongings as she tells Sybil through her laughs, “I’ll stay the night with Dad.”
“What’s that on your arm?”
Before Sin can protest, Sybil’s already grabbing her arm and looking at her wrist, seeing the green veins protruding out she runs her finger along the skin.
“What the hell is this?”
Sin almost panics at the question. She knew Sybil could barely put a smile on her face at the thought of Providence, she couldn’t imagine the baby she’d have knowing that she had become one of them.
Sin snatches her arm back as she says, “Stop acting as if you’re actually interested.”
“Why is it always a knife fight with you?”
The question has Sin halt her movement as she’s now on her way towards the front door. It was a simple question, yet the feeling that went along her body made it way more than that. It angered her that Sybil acted clueless to her actions, her patronizing tone, and her bad attempt at hiding her true motives. She didn’t know how much more of it she could take.
“It isn’t a knife fight for me, Sybil. You’re the one that hides the knife behind your back, while my hands are completely empty.”
With that, she slammed the door behind herself. For once she’d left Sybil entirely speechless.
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theacedragon0w0 · 6 months
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Cash or Credit? Part 2
⚠️ WARNING
CHILD DEATH, CHARACTER DEATH, IMPLIED ABUSE, MANIPULATION, GUN VIOLENCE, ALSO DEADNAMING, DRUG AND ALCOHOL USE MENTIONED
Sam was head over heels for Becca, almost everyday the woman would stop by at Sam's work for a quick snack and she told them about how her day went. She apparently worked freelance as a escort which Sam asked what that meant, "oh i get paid by rich folk to be their friend for the day sweetie!" Becca answered.
Becca also helped Sam with stuff they wouldn't dare ask their mom for, like learning how to drive, and how to pick locks, "you never know when you accidentally lock yourself out dear!"
And more over Sam spent more time with her, Sam's mom didn't have to know and even if she did, she would be too out if it by whatever drug or booze she was using and for the first time Sam felt heard. Besides, it's not like Sam had to worry about her mom going out and not coming back days or weeks later. Becca also shared everything with Sam, her food, her car, hell she even spilt her booze and smokes!
Things felt like Heaven, but soon Becca asked them to do something that Sam didn't want to do, "I, I can't do that Becca,"
"Listen it's just a couple of bucks!"
"A couple hundred bucks! I can't steal from my work, it's all I have."
"So I'm just nothing to you?"
"No! Never! But I'll steal from anyone else than him, please," Sam was practically on their knees for their lover, which got a smile from her.
"Hmmmm, anyone else you say?"
"Yes, I'm begging you."
-----------
They parked in a nice residential area, the houses here looked almost identical as Becca hopped out of the car, "No backing down love~" to which Sam swallowed hard. Becca also handed Sam one of her pistols, "Don't worry I doubt you need this but one can never be too safe." Which sort of helped calm Sam's nerves.
They snook towards the house that was across the street from the car, the sidewalk lights were hard to avoid but they managed to reach the front door. Becca turned to Sam, "show me your art," to which Sam responded with pulling out their picks. Like butter, the lock gave in and the intruders were able to sneak in.
Sam went over to the alarm system, surprised that the security wasn't even turned on, Becca whispered into Sam's ear, "Listen, these pricks never expect people like you and me to have the guys to take back what is ours."
After they scavenged the first floor of shiny valuables like silverware and knick knacks, Becca nudged Sam towards the upper floor, "Listen this shit will barely cover the car's insurance, we will be set once we find momma's jewelry case"
Sam was wanting to leave but they knew arguing about this wouldn't help, so with a sharp inhale, they crawled up the stairs.
This sinking feeling was torture for Sam as they figured out which door led to the master bedroom, they quickly crawled around the bed to the side drawer, which had the large display case of shiny jewelry all thanks to Sam's flashlight reflecting off from the stones. Sam stuffed the case into their bag, feeling relieved by the quickness of the task, began making their way back towards the hallway.
But they froze, as a small child stood in their way, the child wiped her sleepy eyes, "Mommy? Is that you? I couldn't sleep."
Sam's mind ran through a million thoughts, but one thing that they will be certain about is that this kid's blood will not be spilled tonight, but their thoughts halted by the sensation of a cold object pressing against their back, "Go back to bed honey," they heard Becca chimed, and whispered in Sam's ear, "you are not going to have a fucking moral crisis here, it's us or her,"
Sam's eyes began to tear up, "please, you promised me that it was for emergencies," to which they felt Becca shoved the loaned gun into Sam's hand, "yeah and this is an emergency dumbass, you are out of your fucking mind if you think I'm going back to jail just cuz little Susan here was spared from eating lead, you're doing her a solid, honestly, don't you think that she deserves to live the rest of her days traumatized by this encounter?"
Sam's hand was shaking, the pistol aiming directly at the sleepy child who was hugging her stuffed toy. But they knew that they wouldn't go through with it.
And that's when they heard a loud bang, and in a panic they too squeezed the trigger, unaware of the chest wound that bled through their clothes,
all that mattered to Sam was that the child in front of them now laid there, lifeless as Sam dropped to their knees.
They watched as Becca grabbed the duffle bag that had the jewelry case, walking over the corpse whose blood now stained the floor, "That's your problem Samantha, you never try to take what's rightfully yours," Becca turned around just so she can lift Sam's head, who was now lying on the ground, succumbing to their wound, "this is why you never left that trailer trash dump, you never think for yourself, now you have a child's blood in your hands. But hey thanks for giving me a get away, now that all the blame will be put on you~"
Sam's vision darken as they saw Becca sauntered away, humming a tune that rang in their ears.
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daebakinc · 2 years
Text
Pretty Woman Pt. 6
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Pretty Woman AU
Pairing: Kihyun x Reader
Word Count: 6.1 K
Synopsis: Rich business man, Kihyun Yoo finds himself lost driving in Los Angeles. Stopping for directions he meets you, a prostitute on Hollywood Boulevard. What starts as a one night stand soon becomes a weeklong proposition, as Kihyun needs arm candy for his visit in the city of angels.
Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5
~Admin V
             When you woke the next day, it was late afternoon. Kihyun had already left for work. You allowed yourself to just lay in bed, dozing off and on. Finally getting up, you saw a large white box sitting on the dining table. Lifting the lid of the box, there was a note inside.
             Please have this on by 5:00. You don’t need to come down to the lobby. I will come to you. See you then. ~K
            The note was cute. You wondered if he was coming to you to make up for last night. Setting the note aside, you lifted the tissue paper which revealed a white, silvery gown. You couldn’t help the gasp the came from you. It was truly a stunning dress. When you lifted it out and held it against yourself, goosebumps went up your arm. Wearing it, there was no doubt you’d feel like royalty.
             What even could be happening tonight that you needed such a gown. Part of you was scared that K.Will would be there. You weren’t sure you could handle seeing him again after he made it clear he wanted to use you for your services. However, Kihyun was a smart man. He wouldn’t put you in another situation like that. Not after last night.
             After a quick meal, you cleaned yourself up. With the gown being white, you decided on doing your eyes in a silvery smoky-eye and lips a light, rosy-pink. You pinned your hair up to look sophisticated. Elegant was the word Kihyun used before.
             Once the gown was on, seeing yourself in the mirror made your breath catch. You’d moved up from princess to queen. There wasn’t any jewelry you’d gotten to match the dress. Instead, you gathered long white evening gloves and silver-glittered pumps.
             Five o’clock had finally rolled around. You were smoothing out the dress when Kihyun walked in. His breath was also taken upon seeing your appearance. However, he’d also caught you by surprise. He wasn’t wearing his usual three-piece suit. He was in a tuxedo. It wasn’t a traditional black, but black with purple swirled design. The shirt underneath was silky and black. His bowtie was the same shade of purple in the rest of his attire.
             “Wow,” you breathed.
             “Ditto,” he smiled back at you. He was carrying a square box. It looked like it was to hold a necklace.
             “Are we going to a charity event?” Perhaps he was going to donate it.
             Looking at the box then to you, he smiled wider. “No, this is for you.”
             Your mouth dropped.
             He quickly raised his hand up. “Don’t get too excited. It’s a loan. But I thought you might want to wear it tonight.” Walking closer to you, he opened the box. Inside was a large necklace covered in rubies as well as matching earrings.
             Your hand reached up to touch the necklace, but Kihyun quickly closed the box on it. You squeaked in surprise, which caused him to laugh, then for you to laugh as well.
             He offered to put it on for you. You stood in front of a mirror as he did so you could look at it. It felt heavy.
             “How much would you say this is worth?”
             He made a thoughtful humming sound. “About a quarter of a million.”
             You choked on the air. “A quarter of a million dollars? And the jewelers just loaned it to you?”
             “I’m a very good customer.”
             Reaching up to touch the necklace, you couldn’t believe you were wearing something so expensive. Once the earrings were in, you were ready. “So where are we going?” Looping your arm in his, you both walked out to wait for the elevator.
             “It’s a surprise.”
             His answer caused butterflies to move in your stomach.
             The elevator doors opened and Hyungwon beamed when he took in the sight of you.
             Kihyun audibly cleared his throat to get Hyungwon’s attention. The taller man blushed. “Going down?” he asked.
             Both of you stepped in the elevator. “Yes, to the lobby,” Kihyun confirmed.
             You couldn’t help but feel nervous and excited as the elevator went down. “You really won’t tell me where we’re going?”
             He chuckled. “You’ll see when we get there.”
You squeezed your arm around his tighter because of the anticipation.
             Once in the lobby, everyone you passed seemed to inhale when they saw you. Smiles just like Hyungwon’s appeared on the staffs’ faces. It made you feel self-conscious. You reached to the rubies on your neck to make sure they were still there.
             Changkyun was in the middle of talking to a clerk, but when he saw you, he did a double take. He smiled and nodded in your direction.
             “When you’re not fidgeting, you’re very pretty.” Kihyun leaned in as you walked. “And tall.” The last remark was said with a bit of attitude.
             It made you laugh. The pair of heels you were wearing made you slightly taller than Kihyun, and though you looked amazing, it clearly irked him.
             The limo stopped in front of a small airplane. A red carpet was on the ground when you opened the door, leading to the plane.
             The nervous feeling was back. “I’ve never been on a plane before.”
             Kihyun looked at you, surprised. “Really?”
             “Never,”
             “How did you get to California?”
             “Bus.”
             He pulled on your arm so your focus was on him and not the plane. “We’re just going to San Fransisco. It will be less than an hour.”
             “Okay,” you nodded.
Kihyun was back in his protective mode. He stepped up the steps to the plane first. When you were on, he ushered you in front of him and suggested for you to sit at the window. Since you’d never been on a plane before, you could experience the sights of being in one. He sat across from you and watched you.
When the plane was high in the air above the clouds, the sun was starting to set. You’d never seen something so breathtaking. The clouds all had an orangey-bluish hue.
The sky was still a tiny bit light when the plane landed. Another limo was waiting. It was finally dark out when you arrived at the venue.
People walking into or standing around the building were dressed as fancy as you and Kihyun, or wearing costumes you’d never seen before.
“Hanbok,” he saw you looking at the people in costume. “It’s Korea’s traditional clothing. We’re at a concert for traditional Korean music and dance.”
“Really?” You weren’t sure of what else to say. Kihyun was sharing his culture with you. He wanted you to see something special and important to him.
Ushers led you both to the balcony on the second floor, where Kihyun had a box with seats just for the two of you. The show wasn’t yet starting, so you looked over to him.
“I thought you took over music companies with modern music.”
“I do.”
“So why are we seeing traditional music?”
His smile was slight, but it was genuine. “Korea might be popular today because of Kpop, but this is Korean heritage. Where it all started. Everything the world loves about Kpop started from here.”
You could only stare at him in response. The lights dimmed signaling the show was about to start.
The stage curtain opened and revealed musicians in hanbok sitting in a half circle around the stage holding their instruments. You’d never seen a musician who wasn’t a hippie sitting cross-legged to play. When the music started it took you by surprise. You’d also never heard instruments that sounded like that before. The trumpet sounding one was especially odd to you. Despite the strange sounds, the music itself seemed relatively simple.
Male dances came onto the stage. They were wearing hats with giant pompoms in different colors, or hats that were wide brimmed with a long spinning streamers or plumes on the top. Some of them held drums while others had tambourines. The men started walking in a circle while playing the drums. Those wearing hats with the streamer moved their heads in sync to make the long ribbons dance in unison design.
Their circle started becoming more complex as they danced around and the drumming becoming more rhythmic. The dancers with plumes moved to the center, making the plumes spin and they danced facing each other. The dancers with streamers skipped and spun widely. Those with pompoms continues banging their drums.
As the dance was ending, those playing drums moved inward forming a tight circle, while those with tambourines and streamers formed a wide circle and leapt, kicking both legs in the air while spinning, like some kind of martial art trick.
The audience began clapping so you did the same. The male dancers left the stage and female dancers entered. The music for their dance had more focus on the strange trumpet.
Each dancer was dressed identically in a white and pink hanbok dress. They each held two pink feathery fans. When they first started dancing, it was if the fans were all connected and looked like a snake. Then they broke off in three groups. As each group continued to make designs with their fans, a new dancer in slightly different colors walked out. Her solo dance was unique from the groups’ but still worked together.
The groups made their fans look connected again and their designs looked like spinning flowers. The soloist spun quickly with her fans in the air, making her dress poof out. Then they disbanded the groups, forming a single line on the stage, the soloist joining. They opened and closed their fans, moving into different formations. The opening and closing created its own special dance movement.
They made an inner circle of dancers as well as an outer circle. The two groups moved in opposite directions, making their fans connect and move in unison. It looked like a giant dancing rose.
The dancers broke apart and followed the movements of the soloist. The effect was like a ripple, the soloist moving first, then each dancer doing the same movement, one after the other. The performance ended with them connecting the fans and once again moving like a snake. They stood in a perfect line and moved the fans like a wave. It was incredible to see how quickly they could do it. They broke apart, opening and closing their fans, and once they were in place, one fan was behind them, the other in front and they bowed.
You looked over to Kihyun and could see the pride swelling in his gaze. As the concert continued, you couldn’t help but feel envious. He was so proud of his culture, and it was very cool to see it through the music and dance. The United States as a whole didn’t share a heritage like this. You’d never know the feeling Kihyun had. However, you decided to feel proud with him. Even though they were in the states, they were still able to keep their culture and be themselves. That took courage which was something you deeply admired.
When the concert ended, both of you stood up and clapped. The theater then quickly began to empty. You grabbed his arm and he escorted you from the box. While walking towards the exit, many people came up and greeted Kihyun. Some spoke Korean while some in English. He was a celebrity wherever he went it seemed. However, these people at least seemed more interested in Kihyun as a person than those who were at the yacht party.
By the time you’d gotten back to the airplane, you were feeling sleepy. Kihyun sat next to you on the plane this time, so you rested your head against his shoulder. He reached for your fingers and played with them in his hand. You’d passed out and woke with a start when the plane landed. He chuckled beside you, but stroked your arm, letting you know you were safe.
In the limo ride to the hotel, your stomach growled loudly, putting both you and Kihyun in a fit of giggles. You hadn’t eaten since before 5, and it was sure to be past midnight.
“We’ll get some room service.” He lifted his phone and called the hotel, ordering appetizer samplers so you could have a variety. It would be ready by the time you got in.
The hotel lobby was quiet when you got in. Hyungwon was still running the elevator. He smiled politely at both of you.
You leaned heavily against Kihyun, still groggy. “Thank you for taking me out tonight. I had a really good time.”
Not looking at him, but feeling his stare, you knew Kihyun was giving a small smile. “You’re welcome.”
You could also see Hyungwon smiling in the reflection of the golden doors.
Finally on your floor, a cart was waiting in front of your door. Kihyun handed you the keycard to open the door while he pushed in the cart inside.
When he’d ordered sampler appetizers, your mind went to restaurants like TGI Friday’s and Applebee’s. You’d forgotten you were staying in the penthouse in the Baverse. The trays of food on the cart had different kinds of breads and crackers, tons of dips and caviars, sliced veggies, cheeses, and meats.
Too hungry to change, you both stayed in your formal attires as you placed cheese on crackers and spread dips onto the bread. You were happy to actually see Kihyun eat. Together, the two of you did a pretty good job of clearing the trays.
As you were both full, you slouched lazily in the chairs, enjoying each other’s company.
“What did you think of the concert?”
Grinning thinking back on it, you replied, “It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “Did you ever play instruments like that or dance?”
He “hmm”ed in his chair for a moment. “I think when I was very young, like maybe three or four, I did the pungmul dance.”
He lost you. “The what?”
“Ah, the dancers who played the drums and did kicks.”
Excited, you sat up in your chair. “Did you get to wear a hat with the tassely thingy?”
He smiled wide. “Did I wear the what?”
“The tassely thingy!” You mimicked the dancers’ head movements while making your arm helicopter on the top of your head to act as the streamer.
Kihyun started laughing. “That’s not what it’s called.”
“Who cares what it’s called! Did you wear one?”
He went back to “hmm”ing, then let out a low chuckle. “I honestly don’t remember.”
Booing at him made him laugh harder.
“How about you? Did you ever dance or play an instrument as a child?”
Your smile fell and you shook your head. “It was always too expensive so I wasn’t able to. I was always so jealous of my friends. They were ballerinas, and they got to wear these pretty purple sparkly outfits with long tutus. I always wanted a tutu.
“I just learned dancing from watching movies and TV shows.” You picked at a piece of cheese.
His smile fell a little, too. He looked down at his watch. “As much as I’m enjoying our conversation, I wanted to get an early start tomorrow and it’s getting late.”
That made you pout. “What if you don’t go to work tomorrow?”
Caught in surprise, he quirked an eyebrow. “Me not go to work?”
You nodded.
The small smile was back, and you could see the cogs turning as he thought it over. “Well, it is my company.”
Your smile was back and he smiled with you.
             The next morning as you were waking, your stretched hand hit something warm and solid. Opening your eyes, you saw Kihyun looking at you. “You’re still here!”
             “You asked me not to go to work.”
             “Well, yeah. But you’re normally out of bed by now, dressed, eating breakfast.”
             He gave you a sweet smile. “Because I normally have to go to work.”
             Pleased he was still in bed, and actually in bed with you, you snuggled up to him, resting your face on his chest. He froze beneath you for a moment, not expecting the contact, then relaxed. His fingers combed through your hair. “What do you want to do today? More shopping?”
             “Nooooo!” You never wanted to shop again ever in your life, even if staff sucked up to you.
             Laughing for a long time to that, Kihyun’s chest vibrated under you.
             You looked up at him. “Have you gotten to see any of the city? Not just for business meetings and parties, but actually toured around?”
             He shook his head.
             “Then why don’t we just walk around, view what Los Angeles has to offer. And then if we see something, that’s what we’ll do.”
             “Alright.”
             You wanted to lay with him longer, but he seemed ready to get up. Slowly, you let go of him so you could both get ready.
             Since he hadn’t seen you in it yet, you decided on wearing the purple dress you wore home from Façade. You’d expected Kihyun to wear another three-piece suit, since it seemed all he had to wear, but to your surprise, he was wearing a button-up with a sweater vest over it and shorts. Shorts! Stifling a laugh, you weren’t sure if the city was ready to see such pale legs.
             He looked himself over, confusion clear on his face. “What’s wrong?”
             “Nothing,” you bit your lip to stop laughing.
             “Is there something wrong with my outfit?”
             “Of course not, grandpa.”
             His mouth dropped in disbelief. “This is Tommy Hilfiger!”
             “Mmm hmm,” even with your mouth closed, you weren’t doing a great job to hide your laughter.
             A wild look was in his eyes and he suddenly tackled you to the bed. “I could punish you for that comment.”
             You smiled up at him. “Please do. I’d probably like it.”
             He looked playful and a little frustrated. “You probably would.” Lightly slapping the side of your ass, he got off you. “I’ll deal with you later.”
             The streets were surprisingly busy despite the fact that it was a Wednesday. Kihyun took your hand in his so you wouldn’t lose each other. You were on a street filled with restaurants. Turning a corner, there was a chalkboard sign in front of an open door. There was a small display window revealing piles upon piles of books.
             Spinning to face him, you asked excitedly, “Can we?”
             “Sure,” he nodded.
             Inside was a treasure trove of books stacked high all around. They were clearly used books, and they didn’t seem to be in any kind of order.
             “I didn’t think you’d be interested in books.” Kihyun scanned a stack behind you.
             “Streetwalkers can’t read?”
             “I didn’t say that. After hearing about how you ended up here, I assumed you never finished school and books, being part of that, wouldn’t attract you.”
             Turning on your heel, you looked at him. “Does Korea have the Scholastic Book Fair?”
             Giving a puzzled look he shook his head.
             “Here in the states, elementary schools have this fair in the school lobby where they set up books and stationary stuffs to buy. I was one of the kids who never had money to buy a book, but always looked at the books. They were always shiny and beautiful, and even if you couldn’t buy, you could still look at them.
             “One time on my birthday, my grandfather took me to a book store and told me I could pick out any book I wanted. I chose a picture book with manatees. When we got home, we sat on the front porch and he read it to me.
             “Though my current profession doesn’t grant oodles of time for reading books, I still like them.”
             It wasn’t the normal power in his gaze as he stared at you. Something else you couldn’t quite name. “Then find one, any one you want, and we’ll read it.”
             Beaming, you turned your attention from him back to the books. The spines were wrinkled from their previous owners. There didn’t seem to be a certain rhyme or rhythm to how they were stacked.
             Kihyun also looked along the books, picking one and paging through it before putting it back.
             There was a store cat laying on a knocked over stack. You bent down to pet it when a book lying next to it caught your attention. Patting the cat, you then lifted the book. You recognized the title. Looking on the back cover for info, you were sure you’d read this story before and loved it, but couldn’t remember how it went.
             Kihyun saw the cat next to you, and walked over to also pet it.
             “I found the book I want.” You held it up proudly for Kihyun to see.
             Giving the cat one last scratch he stood up and looked at it.
             “This one. You’re sure?”
             When you nodded, he smiled. He took it to the cashier. He held the book as you continued strolling outside. Soon, you found yourselves at a park. There were a few groups of couples scattered about. A vendor was renting blankets and umbrellas.
             “Do you have cash?”
             His incredulous look was back. “Are you seriously asking if I have cash?”
             “Okay, so why don’t you get the blanket,” you pointed towards a tree casting a lot of shade, “we can cop-a squat under the tree. There’s a snap-dog vendor over there, so I can get us drinks and dogs.”
             “Cop-a-what?”
             You smiled at him. “Squat. It means sitting.”
             He nodded. “What is a snap-dog?”
             “You’ll find out.”
             Giving you one more hard stare, he finally handed you money to get things. You got two hotdogs and two pink lemonades. Kihyun had the blanket set up on the ground under the tree with the book laying on the corner. He was standing next to the tree on his cell phone, clearly talking business.
             Once the drinks and food were set down, you pushed on Kihyun’s shoulder until he sat on the blanket. Since he was distracted by the call, you were able to remove his socks and shoes without any protest. When you were finished and wanted it to be back to his day off, you grabbed the phone from him and hung up.
             “I was in the middle of a call. I was mid-sentence.”
             “And now you’re not.” You raised your eyebrows at him.
             He furrowed his brows at you, but didn’t argue. Then he looked down at his feet. “What happened to my shoes?”
             “See what happens when you’re too busy with work. I could’ve taken your wallet and made off with the hotdog vendor and you’d be none-the-wiser.”
             He gave you a dry, humorless stare. He maintained said stare as you handed him the drink. His focus was then on the lemonade. “It’s pink.”
             “It’s good.”
             He sipped, then nodded in agreement. When you handed him the hotdog, he looked puzzled. “This looks like an American hotdog.”
             “Yeah, ‘cause it is.”
             “You called it a snap-dog.”
             “Mmm hmm.” You sipped your lemonade. “Scared?”
             He huffed at you and eyed the hotdog once more. Finally he bit into it, the casing making the “snap” sound as his teeth broke it. He had his moment of understanding, then continued munching happily.
             When you both finished eating, the two of you settled in against the tree. You snuggled into Kihyun’s side, and he started reading from the book.
             Your fingers played with the hem of his sweater vest as you listened to his voice. There was such a nice cadence to it. His lisp was adorable, seemingly more noticeable as he read.
             He’d gotten a few chapters in when a frisbee landed next to your blanket. The person who threw it asked if y’all could throw it back. Kihyun just stared at it, so you sat up and flung it in their direction.
             “What was the toy?”
             “A frisbee . . . they don’t have those in South Korea?”
             “Seoul’s a bit tight to have anything like that.”
             Sitting up more excited, you grinned at him. “Wanna play?”
             His eyes widened a bit in surprise. You didn’t give him the chance to answer and walked over to the couple playing frisbee, asking if you could join their game.
             Kihyun still looked nervous as he stood up and smoothed out his clothes. You ran back over to him. “They said we could play.”
             The worried look on his face made you laugh. Your fingers reached for his chin so he’d look at you. “They won’t be mean.”
             That caused him to give a little glare, but playful smile as he pushed your shoulder.
             The other couple tossed the frisbee in your direction and you caught it. Showing Kihyun how to hold it, you jerked your hand a few times. “It’s all in the wrist.” Letting go, the frisbee went soaring the perfect distance towards the others. Kihyun nodded, he seemed ready to try when it was your turn again.
             He jumped to catch the frisbee this time as the others threw it. When it was in his hands, he asked you if he was holding it right. You confirmed, so he tried throwing it. It flew straight up in the air and came back down. His cheeks turned pink, which caused you to chuckle. Kihyun blushing had to be the cutest thing you’d ever seen.
             Going behind him, you reached for his hand, showing him how to throw it. Together, you did a practice throw. It didn’t go far, but Kihyun got the idea. He jogged to get it and ran back. He tried again on his own. The frisbee flew perfectly into the other group. You cheered for him, and he yelled out in happiness as well.
             His smile was so big and genuine, which made you smile more.
             You played frisbee for about half an hour. This round as it came towards you, both you and Kihyun tried to catch it. You jumped into each other, both trying to grab it. Falling to the ground, you crawled to the frisbee, screaming in success when you had it. Kihyun tackled you and tried to take it from you.
             “No, I have it!”
             “For now.” He lifted your wrists above your head, the frisbee still in your hand.
             “Hey, that’s not fair!”
             His proud smirk was back. He looked into your eyes, and you into his. The smile was gone from his face. He looked into your eyes deeply, then moved in closer, making your lips part in anticipation.
             The other couple yelled over to you to throw the frisbee back. Both of you blushed and got up. Kihyun took the frisbee from you and tossed it to the others. He thanked them for letting you play, and told them you were finished.
             You agreed, you weren’t in the mood to play anymore. Your heartbeat sped thinking about what almost happened. Kihyun almost kissed you, and you almost let it happen. You never let it happen. You didn’t kiss Tricks. It was the number one rule.
             He started to fold up the blanket, so you gathered all the food trash and stuffed the book in your bag. Once everything was cleaned up and Kihyun was back in shoes, the two of you started walking again, though you kept a bit of distance, still wary about what almost happened.
             The two of you heard music ahead. As a fountain came into view, you saw a musician standing by it, singing and playing guitar. Once you were close enough, Kihyun stopped in front of them and listened. You watched him as he bobbed his head to the music. When the song ended, he grabbed his wallet and left a large bill in the artist’s guitar case. The musician saw it and looked stunned. Kihyun then requested a song, to which the guitarist nodded with extra enthusiasm and began strumming.
             “Dance with me?” Kihyun offered his hand.
             Smiling, you accepted. He still showed his skills like he had on the yacht, but it was different this time. You hadn’t noticed it then, but dancing with him now, it was clear on the yacht he was showing off to the onlookers. He wanted to impress them. But now, he was more relaxed, wasn’t trying to be perfect. His focus wasn’t concerned with who might be watching, but on you. He sincerely just wanted to dance with you.
             After reading, frisbee, and dancing, you were feeling hungry again. You insisted on taking Kihyun to your favorite pizza place.
             “Trust me! It’s Italian owned. The best pizza you will ever have.”
             He looked a little wary. “I’ve never had pizza outside of Korea.”
            You looked to him, shocked. “Really?”
“You’ve seen the restaurants I go to and company I keep. Pizza is never really on the menu.” He looked at the list of toppings. “Why don’t you order what kind we get.”
             Nodding, you ordered sausage and pepperoni. You found a small booth by the window to sit in.
             “Today was a lot of fun. I really like spending time with you.” You hoped the dim lighting would hide your blush.
             “Yes,” Kihyun agreed. “I can’t remember the last time I was barefoot outside.”
             That made you grin.
             Your pizza was brought to the table. Kihyun’s eyes widened. “Why is it so big?”
             “Is it not this big in Korea?”
             He shook his head and looked at the pizza. “I thought you ordered sausage and pepperoni.”
             Looking over the pizza, you didn’t see the problem. “I did.”
             He pointed at the sausage. “This is bulgogi.”
             “I don’t know what that is.”
             “It’s a kind of Korean beef.”
             “It’s sausage. Pretty sure it’s pork.”
             He gave it one more curious inspection then nodded. You waited for him to take the first bite. His eyes closed as he chewed.
             “Good?”
             Nodding, he groaned happily.
             Grinning wider, you took a bite of your own slice.
             You’d gotten full, but Kihyun was still chowing down slices. It made you content to see him appreciate food.
             “American sausage is awesome. Sausage in Korea is nothing like this. There’s no comparison.”
             You chuckled. “Technically I think it’s Italian sausage.”
             He waved his hand, not caring. When he was finally full, he looked to you watching him. “I’m scared to ask what you’re thinking.”
             “Why scared?”
             “Last time I asked, you said you were thinking of me and were quite blunt with your answer.”
             “You have to pay extra if you want me to lie.”
             He laughed hard at that. “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
             “It’s still about you.”
             “Oh boy,” he was still chuckling.
             “I’ll give you the blunt first. You’re company, Starship, it’s so cold. So heartless.”
             His expression changed, not expecting you to say that.
             “When we were at that business dinner and the yacht party, you were the robot. Doing and saying what made you look like the big, powerful CEO. But last night at the concert, today seeing you watch the musician, that’s you. Really you.
             “It’s so clear you love music. Care about it deeply. I could understand how you got into the business you’re currently doing, but I don’t think it’s who you are now, or what you want to be doing.”
             He sat back in his chair, considering what you said to him.
             “I’ve heard you play, heard you sing. Yeah, it was only once, but I know you’re good. You have skill. If it’s what you love, why don’t you try to pursue it again?”
             He looked a bit surprised in what you were saying, then slowly shook his head. “I told you about how solo acts work in Korea.”
             You interrupted him. “But we’re not in Korea. We’re in U.S.A. Honey Bear Records is in U.S.A. Hell, you have enough money. You could probably pay off their debt and ask them to sign you as an artist. They’d be so grateful to you, they probably would.”
             Kihyun sat quietly for a moment, then turned his gaze hard on you. “And what of you. I can’t imagine you want to be doing this for the rest of your life. What’s your plan after prostitution?”
             He had you there. You never really thought ahead to the future, just making it to your next rent payment and meal.
             “I’ve seen you with cars and you’re a lot more knowledgeable than I am. Maybe you could be a mechanic.”
             Laughing, you shook your head. “A lady mechanic. I’m sure you and every other guy would love that.”
             He smiled. “Admittedly you seem to know much more about my interests than I of yours.”
             “Part of the job,” you reminded him.
             He “ah”ed in understanding and nodded.
             “Well, I never finished school, like you said. So, I guess my first step would be to do that. Or at least get my GED.”
             “That does sound like a good start.”
             The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a bit.
             Kihyun was the first to speak up. “You don’t need to have a dream, you know. Society dictates that we need to be great, need to be leaders at the top, but it’s not true. You’re allowed to just live and celebrate life. I’ve seen you this week, and you brighten every room you’re in.”
             “It’s easy to live and celebrate when you have money,”
             He gave a small, sad smile.
             Deciding you were ready to go back to the hotel, you snagged a cab for the both of you. Hugging Kihyun’s arm, you rested your head against him on the way back.
             Back in the hotel room, Kihyun looked at you. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”
             He didn’t mean sleep, he meant sex. “Sure. Let me freshen up a bit.”
             Kihyun nodded and began removing his clothes. You grabbed at a negligee you’d gotten at Façade that he hadn’t seen yet, then closed yourself in the bathroom.
             Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Imagery of what almost happened while playing frisbee flashed in your mind. Kihyun almost kissed you earlier, and you almost let it happen. And now, preparing to have sex with him, it wasn’t like before. You didn’t want to sleep with him like it was your job, or because you were being paid to do it. You actually wanted to be with him. Have sex with him because he was Kihyun. It wouldn’t be that he was a Trick, but because somehow in the last few days you’d grown feelings for him.
             It was a little bit exciting and also scary. You felt dumb feeling like this. Tomorrow all of this would be over. He’d pay you, and you’d most likely never see him again. But that also made you feel like you wanted to fully embrace your last night with him. Feel and experience him as yourself, not a sex robot.
             Your hands were actually shaking you were so nervous, taking down your wall for him like this. When you were all cleaned up and dressed for him, you took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.
             Kihyun was laying on the bed with his eyes closed.
             “Kihyun?”
             He didn’t answer, so you walked over to him. He was passed out.
             You sighed and gave a wry chuckle. Of course. The man who said he was bad at sleeping fell asleep waiting for you.
             Sitting on the edge of the bed, you ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t even stir.
             Gazing at his sleeping face, you couldn’t help but admire his beauty. You loved the shape of his eyes and how they were a shade darker in the corners. He had the cutest and most kissable nose. His cheek bones and jawline alone made your breath catch. Then your eyes focused on his lips. Gods did he have plump, soft looking lips.
             Pictures of what it might be like to kiss him started racing in your mind. You’d guess his kissing style was strong, firm like him. But maybe he’d be delicate about it too, kissing back like you were the most precious thing to him. Knowing he liked being in charge, he would part his lips first, running his tongue over your bottom lip. His breath would be hot. Maybe he tasted spicy like cinnamon. His tongue would feel silky against yours. Your hands would grab at his hair.
             Before you realized what you were doing, your lips actually pressed against Kihyun’s.
17 notes · View notes
apinchofm · 2 years
Text
Judgement
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Eloise didn't think much of modelling.
"You have a Philosophy degree! I know there is something behind that pretty face," Eloise laughed.
"Aww, you think I'm pretty," Edwina teased, planting an exaggerated kiss on her cheek that the other girl wiped off. Her lip gloss left a mark, as always.
After making their hot chocolate, Edwina widened her eyes and stared at her.
"Edie, I have a deadline." Eloise said, feeling her friend staring into the side of her head.
"Come with me to my shoot tomorrow," Edwina asked, "And I will prove to you not all models are airheads. A lot of us care about the world and want to champion causes. We have a platform to do so. It could be a editorial!"
"Fine." Eloise sighed and she squealed, clapping her hands and then texting rapidly.
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There was a chaos of clothes, people and racks at the studio in Greenwich.
Edwina was whisked away the moment she entered by a kind team of hair and makeup artists.
"We're going with the Chanel today and the Saab gown. Keep it all light and simple, let Edwina do her work." The photographer was ordering as lights were being switched on and tested.
Eloise stood to the side, taking pictures and videos, rather surprised at how much work it took to get a shoot together. She would admit to believing her friend turned up and pouted for a camera, promoting unhealthy beauty standards.
But she had a choice in everything she wore, always wanting to pay homage to her heritige with gold jewelry choices.
"Edwina!" The editor in chief of British Vogue, Charlotte greeted her enthusiastically, the two air kissing to avoid messing with Edwina's make up. She glanced to Eloise, confused.
"My friend, Eloise Bridgerton." Edwina introduced proudly, "I'm trying to get her to see my job as something positive."
"Miss Bridgerton," Charlotte greeted, "We tried to comission a piece from you. You rejected us."
"I did." Eloise stated firmly.
"Theodora is taking care of you today, dear! She's back from Paris, radical beast." Charlotte tutted, making Edwina laugh. She gave Eloise one last side eye.
"Theo!" Edwina squealed happily, opening her arms for a hug.
Eloise had thought Theo was a guy based on how Edwina talked about them. But not a petite brunette with pink highlights, a bulky camera hanging on her shoulder. She reminded Eloise of a pixie, especially with her doe eyes that were full of mischief as she and Edwina caught up.
"I missed you. But I have a few books for you," Theo said, once released from the hug, "Broke up with Sadie - I called her dad a capitalist cunt."
"Is he?" Edwina asked.
"Oh yeah." Theo confirmed. She did a double take before looking at Eloise. She smirked, "Did you bring me a rebound?"
Eloise blushed, "Excuse me?"
"Theo, this is Eloise."
"Ah, Eloise Bridgerton - the girl who hates models,"
Eloise sputtered, "I don't hate models! I just-"
"Think we're all airheaded monsters?" Edwina teased.
"I did like that piece you wrote in the Times on the lack of class mobility in the last decade." Theo said, "Interesting sympathetics from a toff."
"I'm not a toff," Eloise said defensively.
"You're a Bridgerton. Lean into it!" Edwina giggled.
"I won't hold it against you," Theo promised, holding up their hands up in defense, "Even though you get more time to write than I would thanks to that padded bank account."
"You're a writer?"
"And a model. And photographer." Theo listed, "Not all of us have trust funds to fall back on so we can scorn those who work. Ed, babe, up in five. Nice to meet you Eloise."
Eloise glared at Theo's back, a feeling of frustration bubbling in her chest.
"I can't believe you're friends with her." Eloise scoffed.
"Theo's great!" Edwina said, putting on her heels.
"She just said my wealth meant I got lucky," Eloise said, "I mean, chip on her shoulder much?"
"Well, we both grew up with single mums, owe a lot to the British government in student loans," Edwina hummed, taking a brush and powdering her nose that had begun to shine, "Question is why am I friends with you?"
"Because I'm an amazing friend and flatmate who lets you keep all of the stray cats?"
"Very true."
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As Edwina worked, Eloise watched on, making notes of the supportive environment of the shoot.
Then she heard a click and turned around to see Theo with her camera.
"Must you?' Eloise asked, annoyed.
Theo teasingly took her picture again, "Perhaps you should try to be less judgy. Gay community has enough judges."
"I just don't like an industry that measures a woman's worth based on how she looks." Eloise said, "Edwina is stunning, yes but-"
"And she also reads philosophy and this job allows her to stay out of debt, trust fund baby," Theo said, "And I hate to break it to you, but we all judge based on looks."
Theo stepped closer to her and she inhaled, "I think you're pretty but you need a serious reality check."
"Well, I think you are..." Eloise began defensively, her cheeks warm. She stuttered, unable to formulate a response.
Theo bit her lip, pleased with herself, "Let me know when you figure out what I am."
The shoot was soon over and Edwina was back in her comfy clothes.
"Want to grab dinner?" Edwina asked, hooking her arm into hers, "I really want a burger and milkshake!"
"Sounds good." Eloise hummed.
Edwina looked at her strangely, "No snarky comment or eating jokes? Have you changed your mind?"
"Perhaps I misjudged," Eloise admitted hesitantly, making her smile excitedly, "Shut up."
"Did Theo help you see a different side?"
"Shut up,"
"Never."
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vulpes-fennec · 2 years
Text
The Fae Equality Initiative (Ch. 3) 🌊
Summary: Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court, has sent ripples of shock throughout Prythian with his plans to eliminate discrimination against Lesser Fae. When the Night Court is invited to send a delegation to Summer Court, Elain Archeron can’t wait to show everybody what she’s capable of on her first official Inner Circle assignment. Little does she know that Tarquin has also recruited Lucien Vanserra’s assistance…
Read: Ch 2 | AO3
🌸P.S. This is what I had in mind for Elain's dinner dress! Night Court black but with a touch of Elain's style🌸
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I feel bad thinking this way, but Tarquin’s palace is nicer than the one in Hewn City, Elain thought. She loved how the sunlight streamed through her window, loved hearing the squawking gulls and watching the ships sail by. Although the Hewn City palace was lovely with its open views of the night sky, it was also quiet and distant from all signs of life. 
Because she and Balthazar were the only ones staying for the entirety of Tarquin’s conference, they had rooms with window views. The males graciously agreed to share a room so that Emerie and Melanie could have their own spaces. 
Elain had packed and unpacked her travel bags four times in her excitement for the trip. It was her first trip after all, even if it was for official Night Court business. A real business trip, her heart swelled with pride. She had brought a mix of breezy dresses, formal gowns, and comfortable work frocks. Summer clothes that had been tucked away for winter were given another opportunity to shine in a Seasonal Court. She busied herself with hanging up dresses and setting several books she’d borrowed from Rhys’s library on the bedside table in a neat little stack. Velaris history, Lesser Fae laws, Night Court governing bodies…hopefully reading these will keep me from appearing wholly ignorant of Night Court matters… 
“Elain? What are you wearing tonight?” Emerie was knocking on her door. Just as Elain opened her door, Melanie popped out of her room on the other side of the suite. The vampyr’s huge, furred ears sticking out of silky blonde hair—and uncanny sense of hearing—were clearly her defining features. 
“If you have wardrobe troubles, you have come to the right place.” Melanie’s pitch black eyes gleamed as she hollered at the door next to her, “Balthazar! Nikon! Get your asses out here! We need to plan our outfits for dinner!”
Balthazar’s boyishly charming face poked out of his door. “No need to yell,” he grumbled, mildly amused. “You’d think someone with sensitive hearing would speak more softly.” 
Nikon stepped out of the bathroom, already dressed in a fine black suit and pants. “This is the only suit I brought,” he said apologetically. 
But Melanie nodded her approval. “I can work with that,” she replied confidently. The seamstress assigned Balthazar to a black suit, popping open the top buttons of his shirt to display his Illyrian tattoos. Emerie was fitted into a strapless, knee-length black dress that showed off her muscled calves. Melanie tied a forest green sash around Emerie’s waist, the pop of color trailing behind the warrior like a miniature train. Elain excitedly loaned Emerie her emerald necklace, claiming it would accentuate Emerie’s collarbone. 
Melanie had selected a black, more conservative version of Mor’s strappy red gowns for herself before focusing her efforts on Elain. “Hmm,” Melanie mused. “Black isn’t reeaaally your color, but we’re all dressed in black already.” 
“I don’t mind wearing black,” Elain said, though it sounded more like a question than a definitive statement. 
“Well, I suppose the one you brought is still cute.” Melanie held up the black gown Feyre had given Elain. It was on the frilly side, with slightly puffed sleeves and a shimmering mesh overlay. “I think it would look better if you wore—” Melanie scrutinized Elain’s jewelry collection “—these pearl earrings with it. After all, we’re in the Summer Court.” She pointed to the very pair that Lucien Vanserra had gifted Elain two Solstices ago. The white orbs nestled in a ring of gold seemed to taunt Elain by reminding her of Lucien’s distraught expression that night. 
Elain flushed. I thought I left those at home. “Oh no, I can’t wear them,” she said, grabbing them from the box. Melanie gave a quizzical look at Elain’s flustered response. “My…my mate gifted them to me. But I haven’t accepted the bond…haven’t spoken to him—” 
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. The tell-tale sound echoed through the air. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.
Elain froze mid-sentence, her brown eyes widening. “Sweet gods above,” she gasped. What is Lucien Vanserra doing here? Her heart, which had inevitably soared at the thought of seeing his handsome face again, plummeted with dread when she remembered that they were barely on speaking terms. 
Melanie’s eyes widened. “What happened?” 
“He’s here,” Elain murmured. “My mate. I can hear his heart.” 
Melanie’s furred bat ears twitched, listening. “Hmm…I don’t…hear anything?” She frowned. “I can take a look outside and see…what does he look like?” Melanie offered. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. Elain was at loss for words, aware of only Lucien’s heartbeat. Even though the vampyr heard nothing, Elain knew it was him. 100 percent. She had recognized his heartbeat even in her sleep, back when she was a freshly Made Fae. 
“No, that’s alright. Perhaps he’s just passing through,” Elain said faintly. The temptation to seek him out tugged at her self-control, but…no, better to do nothing than to make a mistake. She shoved the desire away. “Maybe I’ll wear these amethyst earrings instead.” She smiled at Melanie weakly. 
“Yes, that’s also a good choice. We should hurry, though, since we only have half an hour before dinner. Let me know if you need anything!” The seamstress left, leaving Elain clutching at pearls and listening to her mate’s fading heartbeat. 
***
I’m sure Lucien came and left. Casual emissary business, right? Elain could have sworn Lucien Vanserra’s scent lingered in Tarquin’s hallways as they followed servants to the Great Hall. And you know what, maybe Tarquin’s palace just happens to smell like crisp apples and earthy leaves…no big deal. Or at least that was what she told herself. 
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Nikon whispered to Elain as their little group readied themselves to enter the Great Hall. “If only my sons could see this.” The Velaris council member had two young boys who had cried profusely when their father departed.
Same, Elain agreed silently. She wiped her clammy hands on her gown, feeling especially anxious. Hearing Lucien’s heartbeat had turned her general excitement into high-strung restlessness. I’m finally representing the Night Court, she told herself. This is my big moment. Nothing can go wrong. 
“Elain, you go first,” Emerie gave Elain a gentle nudge. “Balthazar and I will be behind you.” The Illyrian warriors had tucked in their velvet wings, keeping the Night Court’s entrance humble.
“Nikon and I will follow,” added Melanie. They embodied the two sides of the Night Court: Velaris and Hewn City. Elain swallowed nervously. It was unlike her to be nervous in social situations, but representing Feyre and Rhys was a big deal. She wanted to protest: don’t make me the leader! I don’t know what I’m doing! But before she could, the double oak doors swung open to reveal a full hall of Fae staring at her. 
Lucien Vanserra was sitting at one of the round tables in all his red-haired glory. 
Elain froze. Cauldron boil me. WHY. IS. HE. HERE? WHY. Fuck. She bit her tongue to keep from swearing out loud. Oh gods. Oh gods, he’s attending the conference, Elain realized with horror. 
Over the last few years, every time Elain saw Lucien Vanserra felt like a gut punch. And today was no exception. Something deep down called out to the male sitting across the room, like her soul was yearning to merge with his. Elain’s self-control strained to keep her gaze forward, to ignore his cruel beauty.
The one person I CANNOT work with in all of Prythian is here?!? There goes my plan to ace this assignment. Mother’s tits, I might as well go home!   
She wanted nothing more than to turn and run tail-tucked between her legs. She didn’t want him to see her like this, all dressed in garish black and fumbling her way through a political conference. It’s too late now, Elain realized with dread. Court-assigned tables of Fae were looking at the Night Court delegation expectantly. Everybody is looking at us. He’s seen ME. And if I falter…Emerie gently put a hand on Elain’s trembling shoulder, encouraging her to move forward. 
No, no, no. I can’t mess up when I’ve barely started, Elain tried to calm down with Nesta’s Mind-Stilling tips. Just…just breathe and get through dinner. I can deal with this later…Elain inhaled shakily, willing herself to keep her composure as she moved dazedly towards the Night Court’s table.  
***Lucien***
The Cauldron has a sick sense of humor. “Shit,” Lucien muttered. “She’s here.” My mate, my mate. His instincts stirred to life, as they always did around her. You are mine, I am yours. Lucien clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the possessiveness coursing through his veins.
He’d taken time to explore Adriata after lunch, allowing Luke to escort Viviane back to the Summer Palace. He’d walked straight to the Great Hall upon returning, which was probably why he didn’t cross paths with his mate earlier. Feyre and Rhys sent ELAIN? He had not been expecting Elain. Absolutely fucking not. This cannot be happening...oh gods. Gwyn and Azriel knew. They fucking knew, and that was why Gwyn was acting so strange. Lucien was in disbelief at his own ignorance. Did Tarquin know too?
His eyes followed Elain as she drifted across the floor to the Night Court’s table. Her soft brown eyes were bright, but apprehensive. Like a curious fawn stepping out of the woods. She was easily the most beautiful female in the world, even with the black dress leeching the warmth out of her skin. 
Elain looked anywhere else but him. Smiled at everyone else but him. Lucien’s heart quickened as she tucked a lock of brown hair behind her pointed ear, the subtle gesture criminally endearing. The purple gem glittering from her earlobe brought out a wince. I don’t know why I keep stupidly having hopes that she would one day wear the pearl earrings I gifted her. It’s more likely that she threw them away or pawned them off. 
Lucien glanced at Tarquin, whose smile was so wide it looked uncomfortable. Tamlin, seated at the Spring Court table across the hall, gave Lucien a subtle grimace. And Viviane flashed him a shocked look. Lucien’s heart clenched at his friends’ sympathies. Elain’s coldness towards me is nothing, he told himself. My pride has been snubbed so many times over the centuries there’s nothing much for her to ruin. 
Without a court. Without an eye. Without a loving family. Without a mate. I’m used to it. 
Lucien managed to wrench his gaze away from Elain to assess the general situation. It was evident Autumn Court was not coming, though Lucien wasn’t surprised. My father has always been a fucking bigot, he thought. Lucien’s gloom with Elain heated into visceral disgust for Beron Vanserra. Expecting the male who’d murdered his son’s Lesser Fae lover to send a delegation to the Summer Court…is like expecting the sun to reverse its course in the sky. It would never happen. If anything, Beron would have sent a mob to protest Tarquin’s efforts.
He was interrupted from his thoughts when Tarquin stood up from the Summer Court table. The High Lord cut a majestic figure in his navy jacket, his white hair cascading over broad shoulders. His earthy brown skin radiated youth, but his turquoise eyes were resolute. As his liquid power ebbed throughout the room in a subtle display of dominance, the Fae stilled in response, ready to listen to the High Lord speak. 
***Tarquin***
“Good evening! I believe I have personally introduced myself to everyone, but in case it wasn’t clear, I am Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court.” To his relief, a few appreciative chuckles arose from the room. 
Tarquin swallowed thickly at the sea of expectant faces. Giving political speeches was second nature. And he’d practiced this particular speech hundreds of times: in his dreams, in his private office, and in front of his most trusted advisors. 
So why am I so gods-damned nervous?  
“As you all know, the Summer Court will no longer use terms that imply differential status among the Fae. From now on, we will refer to each other as ‘Fae’ or by our respective species.” 
A smattering of appreciative claps sounded, boosting Tarquin’s confidence. No boos, yet. That’s a good sign. They seem receptive to my initiatives…except for the Autumn Court that didn’t show up. I suppose that was expected. Tarquin continued. “The last few decades have been tumultuous. The Wall has come down. We are building back stronger than ever after the war. Prythian now has two High Ladies.” He acknowledged Viviane with a nod. 
“As jarring as change may be, it does not have to be bad. Have we not enforced abhorrent discriminatory practices for centuries? Will countless more Fae have to suffer senselessly? Are we capable of changing for the better? Well…I believe we are.”  
“I understand many Fae have qualms about the future. I understand that we have many obstacles in the way of Fae being treated equally in our society. That is why I value input on how we can move forward.” 
“I am truly honored by the presence of so many different Fae, so many delegations here tonight. It is my genuine hope that our conversations in the coming weeks will spark collaboration and progress across all courts. So…here’s to a more equal, more compassionate Prythian!” Tarquin lifted his wine glass in the air. His hand shook slightly in trepidation. Will they join me, or will they scorn me? After all I have given, after all I have said from the bottom of my heart…there is no guarantee that I will succeed. 
Resounding cheers and affirmations echoed throughout the room as the Fae lifted their goblets in response. As Tarquin scanned the tables, he could see that some Fae had tears in their eyes. The optimism shining in their faces warmed Tarquin’s heart, boosting his morale to greater heights. We’ll get this done, he resolved to himself. I cannot fail them now.     
Resources linked here!
Read: Ch 4
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sassyfrassboss · 2 years
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MM had the loan of some jewellery from the queen but somehow it came up missing. She reportedly said she “lost” it. The jewelry never belonged to Catherine. I also heard that no more authentic jewels were ever loaned to MM again lest she “lose” them again.
Meghan kept some very expensive shoes that... were not hers to keep. Others have said that she accepted quite a few ‘freebies’ from ‘sponsors’ which is totally against royal protocol, as the royals are not for sale (well, except Meghan...)
MM had the loan of some jewellery from the queen but somehow it came up missing. She reportedly said she “lost” it. The jewelry never belonged to Catherine. I also heard that no more authentic jewels were ever loaned to MM again lest she “lose” them again.
Yeah this isn't true. Any jewelry loaned out by The Queen is closely monitored and would be in the care of staff. If Meghan were loaned a necklace for example, the necklace would be cleaned, evaluated, and essentially "checked out" of the royal vaults. Required details of where, when, and how long the loan would be. Meghan would not be given the opportunity to "lose" anything on loan.
It was said that William was the one who put his foot down in regards to Meghan being given any loans.
There is also a lot to take into consideration with the loans. If Meghan was loaned something and then later it was given to Catherine it could create confusion. It's why many of the royal ladies tend to wear the same items.
Meghan kept some very expensive shoes that... were not hers to keep. Others have said that she accepted quite a few ‘freebies’ from ‘sponsors’ which is totally against royal protocol, as the royals are not for sale (well, except Meghan...)
This is something we have known and talked about since 2016. Harry also confirmed it in his book. Plant has information about the AUS Tour and knows for a fact Meghan was being paid up to $250k to merch items. So if she was merhcing a dress, shoes, earrings, and a purse she could make $1M per outfit.
As for the shoes, that was in Tom Bower's book I believe? She walked off a photoshoot set with them and it is believed that the shoes are the ones she wore for her engagement press call.
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orexias · 11 months
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presenting : advisor enver gortash & lady nesta d'angelis.   ,  a pre-plotted thread featuring @banedicti .
one might expect someone of such noble upbringings to understand a modicum of decency, the conservatism that comes with the higher baldurian courts. the d'angelis family had investment hands in just about everything - banks, loans, development projects... political campaigns. and with lady rhiannon and lord owain always so invested in the needs of their inferiors, lady nesta was always not far by their side. this gala, in particular, was one of importance, one that nesta was very much so informed she did not have the option of attending. it is important, as members of a society that works in the darkness behind the scenes, to maintain a shiny exterior, for the brighter the light - the bigger the shadow becomes. and the measure of nesta's reach is that of her beliefs - all-encompassing and all-consuming.
the dress is beautiful: evening gown of stygian shade, golden epaulets, a cloak to hide her exposed back from mischief-makers who might be otherwise entitled to lay claim to the small of her flesh, to touch that which is not offered. a circlet adorns her head, golden jewelry shining against the white of her hair, of her skin, of her eyes - as if she is an angel, like the ones depicted by the lathanderian temples. but the glass of wine in her hand, the rose brooch, no - those are all effigies of her intention. that she is a rose with thorns, that bleeding is sanctimonious, and that parties like these pale in comparison to the indulgences beneath these very floorboards. still, it is a good, quiet night - until it becomes instead an interesting one.
to see him is to gaze upon roadkill, nesta thinks; to be enamored by the charisma he exudes and yet repulsed by the act that put him here. this is not the first time she has met him, nor will it be the last, but she is amused, regardless, at the intention with which he strides across the room, long before the first dance, to greet her. this must be kismet, nesta thinks, and not statistics, with the number of times they've interacted with one-another in the settings belonging to her mother and father. despite this, her voice is low and sultry even still, her hand already extended for him to shake, to kiss the back of her knuckles, to do as he pleased. in settings like this, women were objects to greet and examine as they pleased, though nesta's calculating demeanor often intimidated away those with low charismatic fiber.
enver gortash, unfortunately, was not one of those men.
" advisor gortash, " she hums, pale eyes hiding a concoction of amusement and annoyance as her dreams of a quiet night are all but dashed away in favor of a wretched game of thrones and crowns. " what a... well, how appropriate it is to see you here. lady whittnia throws quite the ball, no? "
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