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stxrvel · 3 months ago

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the king (2)

series summary. y/n knew that her whole life was outside the Palace, but it was hard to resist when the Crown Prince had been chasing her for as long as she could remember. doomed to an end where everything she loves has to be abandoned, y/n is forced to restart her life far from her mother, her village that saw her grow up and the man she loves. who would've thought that loving would come at such a high price…

pairing. prince!jungkook x f!reader

content. english is not my first lenguage! violence. royal themes. be-heading is still spoken of in this kingdom, nothing that will materialize. yelling. a flashback.

a/n. hey guys! i forgot about this one hehe. i have some chapters already done, i'll try to post them soon. love yall <3

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

Jeon Jungkook had never thrown a tantrum since he was eight years old. His teaching was so strict being the heir to the throne that he had had to learn to tolerate many things and put up with others from an early age. Understanding the weight of what it entailed to be born with the title of “Crown Prince” had been one of the things that had taken him the least amount of time to grasp, but which he always questioned in the solitude of his room.

Jungkook had surprised his parents, understanding from a very young age the implications of his position and the responsibilities he was to assume in the future. That knowledge made him grow up lacking in many things, but with advantages in many others. By owning that awareness, Jungkook understood the weight on his parents' shoulders and knew that they must've had a difficult enough life for him to bother them with his childish mundanities. So that's how he grew up, for many years, trying to make life easy for his parents.

Usually, his mother used to use him as an example to his younger sisters on how to behave according to the title they held. His sisters never envied him, they really loved him, but Jungkook knew how much they hated not being able to live their childhood like all the other kids in town. And he hated that too, that they couldn't experience it, but he was relieved just to know that the big burden was on him and not on them. Expectations were always placed on him, the Crown Prince, the next King, and not on the princesses who only wanted to enjoy their life and childhood in the big castle. Still, Jungkook sometimes didn't understand why his mother demanded so much from his sisters when they hadn't grown up with the knowledge he was given. He hated the nights when Suni, the youngest of them all, would sneak into his room at night or search for him in the great Palace garden because eomma had forbidden her to keep stuffed animals in her room or because she got mad at her when she asked for more food at dinner.

Jungkook, for a long time, tried to make his parents' life a little easier.

But it infuriated him to think that they made his sisters' lives difficult in return.

So, for a change, Jungkook started throwing tantrums.

The first time he remembered it as lucidly as if it had been yesterday.

It was a sunny day in the square when he had gone out with his parents and two of his sisters. Their parents had dawned in a strangely good mood, so much so that they had decided to have a little family walk in the central point of town. Jungkook went with one of his sisters, Hari, making funny faces at his younger sister, Suni, behind his parents' backs, causing the little girl to laugh loudly. They were having such a peaceful and happy time that Jungkook couldn't believe it.

That is, until Suni saw one of the wooden toys they were selling in the square and began to pull her mother's hand. Hari and Jungkook stood silently, frozen, walking quietly behind their parents as they watched their little sister stir and pull harder and harder on the Queen's hand. They could barely go unnoticed… when Suni began to cry.

Jungkook bit his tongue, and had the urge to move forward to grab his sister and take her back to the Palace, but Hari's hand wrapped around his arm kept him sane. Jungkook hadn't been through a situation like that, precisely why his parents didn't often go out with their children, so he had no idea how his parents would react.

The Queen continued walking, almost dragging her little daughter who wouldn't let go of her hand. People passing by her were barely able to give them a glance, hurrying their pace when the Queen's eyes fell on them. The square had fallen into a dull silence that was perturbed only by Suni's sobs.

Hari squeezed Jungkook's arm tighter as the Queen turned her face away to look at Suni, and they both watched their mother's tense face, no longer welcoming and peaceful as they had seen her in the morning. She was now only the Queen and Suni, her own daughter, was trying her patience.

The King walked silently by her side, not even bothering to try to calm his daughter or show his wife patience. He lived in his own world.

Jungkook felt a hand clutch around his throat as the Queen began to tug on her little sister's arm, to get her to walk back to her side without crawling.

He didn't think twice as he began to speak, and Hari's hand tightened around his arm.

“Eommoni,” Jungkook elongated his voice, a hint of weariness and exhaustion ringing in the Queen's ears. The woman barely glanced over her shoulder at him, and Jungkook took it upon himself to keep his face irritated like his sister Hari did when she had to eat paprika. “Suni is making too much noise and my head hurts.”

His little sister turned to look at him, her eyes red and cheeks drenched in tears. Her little eyes rolled down his face and she had one of her hands almost inside her mouth, as many babies did when crying. Jungkook could never shake that habit that his mother hated, no matter how much he told her it was normal.

“Can't we go home already?” Jungkook continued, shuffling his feet. Hari was as want as a stone beside him.

“Jungkook,” the King's voice was heard, a silent warning.

A shiver ran through the two brothers walking arm in arm, but Jungkook didn't budge.

“It's getting too sunny, besides, and I'm dying of thirst. Let's go now.”

The King stopped and the whole family along with him. Suni was now sobbing quietly, she seemed to be calming down at the sound of her brother's voice, but tears still streamed down her face.

“Enough,” the King bellowed, turning around to stare at Jungkook. “You are demonstrating unacceptable behavior for the Crown Prince,” he spat, then turned his face to look at the Queen and Suni, “Let's go now.”

Suni let go of her mother's hand and stood in front of her father raising her arms towards him with a grimace that made one think she was nothing short of destroying the mountains with a scream. The King sighed, but took her in his arms. Snuggling into her father's neck, Suni finally closed her eyes.

“I hope you are satisfied, Jungkook,” his father spoke again. “You'll see what awaits you at home.”

The King's punishment had been harsh, as usual, but Jungkook was glad he had used his influence over his parents because, the next day, Suni was in the family dining room with the wooden toy in her hands.

Thus, Jungkook began a streak of manipulation against his parents to ease his sisters' lives. Since they were always more concerned about the Crown Prince's behavior, it was easier to divert his sisters' attention to him.

And to this day, Jungkook hadn't stopped doing so. Every day with more reasons, with different arguments, even if it cost him his life. He wouldn't stop. For them… and for him.

He raised his head as the doors to the great hall opened and a familiar face peered between them. The King's Counselor was striding toward him, hands loosely at his sides, dark blue uniform neatly arranged and a calm expression on his face. Jungkook knew him better than he let on, though, and knew those eyes incited nothing but reproach.

“You're in deep trouble,” was what Kim Seokjin said as soon as he reached his side, his gaze hard but his eyes soft, concerned.

“I know.”

“The way you confronted the Queen…”

“I know.”

“She's never going to let you leave this palace.”

Jungkook twisted his lips and focused his gaze on anything else within the room. Since he had arrived at the Palace, walking shoulder to shoulder with his mother, with the Queen, the two of them split their path and Jungkook had wandered off to a quiet place in the Palace thinking that the argument would end there; that his mother would ignore him for days and make his life miserable while his father watched. But the King arrived within minutes and sent for them both to the meeting room.

Jungkook had been waiting there for about ten minutes, thinking about what they could talk about, what kind of punishment the King wanted to give him, what kinds of poisonous words his mother was going to spit out, when the counselor arrived.

“If I hadn't gone, she would've- she would've given the order and…”

He pressed his lips together in a line. The paltry thought that hovered in his head at the possibility chilled the blood throughout his body. The shiver that ran through him made him grateful he'd had the chance, but reminded him that from now on he had to tiptoe around his mother.

“Your mother wanted a show. She didn't want to kill her, she wanted to humiliate her. Destroy her honor, like she thought she had done to her, to the Jeon family name.”

“That's stupid,” Jungkook spat, anger rebirthing like flames inside his chest. “No one would've ever found out if it weren't for what she did. Now everyone will be talking about it. For weeks.”

“That's true. It was not a calculated move, the Queen acted through her anger. And the consequences will be severe.”

“And you'll hear her already, blaming me for everything. As always.”

Seokjin gave him a sympathetic look, his body leaning against the table in the center of the room. He had known Jungkook since the Prince had turned 15 and since then it had been very hard for him to keep his distance when Jungkook started seeing him and coming to him like a brother. Seokjin knew how hard life had been for the Prince, even if he didn't notice it, even if he had normalized living that way, even if he had become accustomed to the mistreatment. Seokjin saw through those eyes the longing of his inner child, the desire to be free to do whatever he wanted, whatever he couldn't do before.

The counselor had been a pimp, if he had to admit it. He couldn't give him or let him do many things without his parents, the King and Queen, finding out, and both of them being punished for it. Still, he tried to support him in every way he could, like excusing him when he wanted to leave the palace alone for a walk, or accompanying him to have his first beer at Fresh Air; it was almost a tradition in town for older brothers to take their younger siblings to try their first alcoholic drink at that bar, to share those moments together.

Just as he had been in so many stages of his life, he knew Jungkook had been taking too many chances the past few months. Years, even. Seokjin would allow himself to cut him a little slack whenever he could, help him with excuses to breathe easy, but he constantly wondered how long he could be walking quietly on a tightrope. How long it would be before the Queen's sharp actions would cut off that tiny thread of hope that Jungkook had been moving on for some time.

“Have you heard about Hari and Suni?” the voice of Jungkook boomed in the silence, a few seconds after he had uttered the last words. Seokjin raised his head to look at him.

“They were on their way, very close. They should arrive today in the afternoon or during the night.”

The Prince nodded, faint lines crossing his forehead.

“Good thing they weren't around to witness all this.”

“I don't think they can escape the days ahead,” Seokjin mused and Jungkook bowed his head in a nod, a grimace akin to helplessness crossing his expression. “And more so when the King sent for you two. He must be furious.”

“The calm he showed in the square was only the sheet of ice containing his anger. I doubt we'll make it out of this room alive,” Jungkook felt a shudder run through his body as he remembered the look his father gave the Queen when he ordered him back to the Palace with her. His mother was scary, yes, people were right to fear her, the anger was always evident and furrowed her expression without self-consciousness to the world. But his father was not, the King was better known for having an icy rage, for having a frightening calmness when anger coursed through his veins. His mother might be dangerous, but the King was lethal.

“Jimin and Yoongi tried to come as soon as they heard, but the royal guard barred their way. They were practically locked in the guest room,” Seokjin remarked as he remembered the looks of both men on the other side of the room. The door was open when Seokjin was crossing the hall and two royal guards were guarding it, as if they were some mercenaries who did not deserve any good treatment. He knew it had been the Queen's order.

Jungkook's beady eyes fell into disbelief when he heard the counselor's words. It must have been his mother's command, he thought rightly as he held back the urge to smash his palm against the walnut wood table.

Away from the fog of anger that had consumed his mind the past few hours, Jungkook took a moment to breathe. He hated what his mother had done, but he knew his friends were fine. But she…

“Did you hear anything on the way here?” Jungkook inquired, and Seokjin promptly knew what he meant.

“Nothing, everything was scattered when I arrived.”

A whiplash of fear and panic surged through Jungkook's chest. Not many times had he felt that kind of terror, the kind he thought he could only feel in his nightmares. And Seokjin knew the Prince must be dying of uncertainty inside, because he didn't bother in the least to disguise the emotions that traveled across his face.

“She should be fine,” the counselor assured him, though his words were an empty promise. “The King may turn out to be more merciful than you think.”

Seokjin didn't know if the King's mercy went that far, but he wanted to convince himself with his own words, for he wouldn't know how broken the already fractured family bond in that Palace would be if the opposite were true.

He didn't have much time to continue rambling when the sound of quickened footsteps began to echo from the hallway. Seokjin broke away from the table and approached the white wall, carved with lines on its columns, arches over the smooth walls, and undulating figures at the births of them.

The large oval doors of dark wood opened wide and the King entered without hesitation, the Queen walking behind him. At that moment, Jungkook didn't want to see them as father and mother. From the looks they were both giving him, the Prince almost felt that he would be the next to have a trial.

When the Queen was standing right in front of Jungkook across the table, the doors closed with a barely audible sound, and the room was taken over by thunderous silence.

“May I ask, what was on your mind?”

Jungkook didn't turn his gaze to the King. It was disrespectful not to look at him when he spoke, he knew it, every villager knew it, more so him being his son. But maybe he wasn't as prepared for that meeting as he thought he was. He didn't want to take the blame for something that wasn't a crime. Because he hadn't hurt anyone. Because…

“Are you talking to me?” the Queen's voice interrupted his train of thought, and he allowed himself at that moment to raise his head.

The King was watching his wife, who had a surprised grimace on her face in contrast to her father's impassive and cold look, the typical and familiar one.

“What were you thinking going out to do all this, Hyori?”

Seokjin didn't hide the astonishment that took over his face when he heard the King call the Queen by her proper name. It shouldn't be something to be missed, but he and Jungkook were used to formalities between the two supreme figures in front of them. That his father decided to set aside his formality to speak to the Queen in such a manner spoke too much of the anger he held in his heart.

“Why are you directing your anger against me? I wasn't the one who caused all this.”

Jungkook watched the Queen's frown, her face contracted in skepticism. She had adopted a defensive posture, truly offended at being the target of the King's anger.

“You were the one who caused all this,” the King nodded with anger rising in the glint in his eyes. “If you hadn't gone out and made all that fuss, we wouldn't be going through all this right now.”

“But what are you talking about?” the Queen exclaimed, and when she raised her voice Jungkook shrank back in his seat. He shot a glance at Seokjin, but it seemed that the counselor was just as confused as he was. “What don't you see that the reason for the fuss is sitting on the other side of the table?”

Jungkook didn't have to turn his head to know that his mother was pointing at him with a furious glare. But the King didn't even spare the Prince a glance when he responded:

“Stop pointing at your son like that,” he mumbled through his teeth, venom surrounding every word.

A sound of disbelief left the Queen, with a stupefied chuckle following her as she approached the King at a slow pace.

“Do you have any idea what your son did? What that woman wanted to do to our family?”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, his hands gathering on the wood of the table.

“And do you have any idea what that theatrics just cost our reputation? I had to meet with the high consorts immediately. They're not very happy with what you did.”

The Queen snorted not believing for a second that she was the one getting all the scolding and yelling and not Jungkook. Seokjin, secretly, wasn't too upset about it.

“Are you defending him?”

It was the King's turn to break through the icy mask, irritability seeping through his gut.

“What Jungkook did was minimal compared to what your show cost us. The high consorts are reconsidering their offers. They don't think it's very good for their public image to do business with a Queen who still does public executions.”

“They are not forbidden in our nation.”

“No,” the King nodded, “but they will be.”

Jungkook didn't disguise the gasp of surprise that left his mouth. Was he really hearing those words from his father…? The Queen spluttered, and the Prince turned to see her face contracted in astonishment… in betrayal.

“What your son and that woman did is unacceptable.”

“What Jungkook did or didn't do is what matters least,” the King mumbled, his glacial eyes roaming over his wife's face that would not leave her stupefaction.

“What are you saying? He was courting-!”

“I don't care,” the King repeated, his words stronger, more concise. “As long as it doesn't affect the Crown, what Jungkook does outside this Palace doesn't matter to me.”

Thunderous silence followed his words. Seokjin watched everyone present with utmost caution from his position. He might be a simple counselor, but he knew some self-defense tactics. Meanwhile, Jungkook was totally speechless. His gaze wandered over his father and then shifted to his mother's stunned look, an expression that hadn't left her since the King began speaking.

“You can't do that. You can't just not care…” the Queen was shaking her head in refusal, refusing to accept the words she heard from her husband's mouth. “You can't turn a blind eye to-”

“I already did,” the King spoke again and Jungkook did not miss the way his eyes averted for less than a second. The way he looked at him, the sad gleam in his eyes. Or well, sad was what he seemed to have seen, because the King's expression changed so quickly that Jungkook might have thought he had imagined it, if not for what he said next, “I already had.”

“What are you talking about?”

The Prince felt a hand squeeze his heart, trying to stifle it, to keep him conscious long enough to survive, but using just enough strength to feel death close. His lips parted as he watched the father who wouldn't look back at him, who was staring harshly at his mother as the only true culprit in this whole mess. No, the problem wasn't that Jungkook was trusting, not that he stopped paying attention, not that he had let his guard down…

“You knew,” Jungkook spoke for the first time. His voice came out slightly hoarse, his beady, disbelieving eyes glinting in the natural sunlight as his father gave him a neutral, dry, emotionless look.

“What?” the Queen's head turned sharply toward her husband, her eyes exaggeratedly wide.

Without looking away from his son, the King spoke, “Did you really think there was anything you could do in the Palace that I wouldn't know about?”

Almost out of sad inertia, with a whiplash of pain in his chest, Jungkook shook his head at the counselor. Seokjin half-opened his lips in surprise, but shook his head in a negative as he felt the deer eyes on him.

“Counselor Kim has nothing to do here,” the King spoke, his gaze still on the Prince.

“Your Majesty-” Seokjin tried to speak, but the King raised a hand in his direction.

“Not now,” his stern gaze was still on Jungkook, but he promptly turned back to stare at the Queen who seemed not to credit what she saw.

“You knew and… you allowed it?” the Queen's voice was barely a whisper, surprise taking all her breath away.

“I told you, she was never a threat to the Crown.”

“She wasn't a threat, she was a gold digger! She wanted all the riches Jungkook could give her!”

The Prince gnashed his teeth. His bite was so hard that it strained his jaw and a slight pain ran through his gums. He wanted his mother to stop talking that way, expressing herself that way, he wanted to say something to her, anything…

“That's what you made it sound like, making all this fuss. Now there's really no way of knowing,” the King replied impassively, though several muscles in his face were already beginning to retract.

“She was going to steal from us,” the Queen exclaimed in utter conviction.

“She was going to do no such thing,” Jungkook blurted out, his hand clenched on the table and the Queen's eyes exorbitant as she turned to see him as he answered her thus. It was an impulse, but he had done it, and though his instinct was to shrink from her gaze, he faced her and continued speaking. “She never tried to take advantage of me. She is a kind, loving, honest and a humble soul. All she wanted for me was happiness.”

The Queen snorted, interrupting him, and his assurance flanked. Jungkook didn't feel he was over, but the King took the floor again:

“You're going to have to apologize to his mother.”

“What?”

“I'm not going to bear such an embarrassment to someone who has provided us with her services.”

“I'm not going to do-”

“You will. And the next time you intend to bring a trial against someone, Counselor Kim will be only too pleased to give you a few lessons in law.”

And with that, the King left the room.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts x fem!reader

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glubsurleseuil · 7 months ago

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Don't be scared - Chapter 2

A Pennywise X F!Reader fanfic. First - Next

Chapter warnings: Violence, blood, discreet mention of a desire to die. It's just the beginning, it's about to get worse.

(Note: It was translated by Deepl, English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes. If you want to correct me, don't hesitate!)

(Note 2: I found the gif at @pennydaddywise)

(Note 3: The "lyrics" of the song are actually quotes from Mr Stephen King.)

It was a difficult night. First, when you arrived home, your body's first reflex was to throw up in the toilet. Then your brain's reflex was to search your apartment from top to bottom to make sure no one was home. Then, finally, you curled up in a ball on your bed, scared out of your wits, unable to sleep. Every minute, you checked your phone, not wanting to believe that the clown's damn message had disappeared. You'd searched your whole phone but couldn't find it. And you hated for most of the night the incredible capacity of the human survival instinct to try and make you believe that all these strange and terrifying events never really happened. Finally, you fell asleep convinced that no, you're not crazy.

Of course, like every night for some time, you had a dream. But not the same one this time. This one was just as hazy and incomprehensible, but less terrifying, and you woke up more peacefully. It made you remember the clown's message: Don't be scared... You laughed nervously, shivers running through your body just thinking about your adventure the day before.

The day had gone by too fast for your liking, and you'd been unable to concentrate on anything, that damn clown haunting your mind at every turn. Then it was finally time for work.

It was a quiet evening, without too many customers. These evenings are often pleasant to spend, but this evening in particular, you could take advantage of it and go home early. The very idea of not seeing the sun when you leave the bar terrifies you.

"Are you sure? There's no one on stage tonight. You can sing if you want."

Your boss suggests you go on stage when there's no one there. You love these moments. Singing and playing on stage is the only time you feel your life isn't miserable. But singing tonight means coming home later, when it's dark... Fuck.

You can't refuse. These moments are too rare. You get up on stage and take advantage of this moment to forget everything, your rotten life, the sadness, the anguish... The clown...

Monsters are real, And ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.

Your voice trembles slightly and you close your eyes to concentrate.

God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live. The devil's voice is sweet to hear.

At the end of your song, the few remaining customers applaud. You hate that noise. It reminds you of harsh reality.

Finally, the bar closes and you leave through the back door. The cool silence of the night reminds you of the horrors of life and you look down the dark, empty alley. The lights are still malfunctioning, and there's a large section of the alleyway plunged into darkness. Obviously...

You reassure yourself that you don't have to go into the forest this time. Phone in hand, you make your way down the alley, lighting every nook and cranny, and you're soon relieved to see that there's nothing and no one there.

You move forward, a little more reassured, towards the exit, towards the light. And as you put your phone back in your bag, something touches your back. It's light and it bounces against you. You turn around slowly, cautiously, holding your breath...

A balloon? A balloon. Red, floating in the middle of the path, alone. The first thing it brings to mind is your dream from last night. Yes, there was a red balloon in it, which you grabbed and flew high into the sky...

Looking at it more closely, you see a piece of paper hanging from its string, wriggling like a hanged man. You untie it and unfold it. On it, in ink as red as blood, a message.

DON'T BE SCARED

You swallow your saliva as thick as sand and your whole body shakes with tremors, preparing to run. But as you turn to leave the alley, two gloved hands grab you, one by the nape of the neck, pulling your hair as you go, the other by the mouth, pressing down hard enough that you can't scream. And you find yourself facing those predatory golden eyes, one of whose pupils squints outwards. A multitude of gleaming, pointed teeth, dripping with slime, smiles at you, just inches from your face.

Faced with such an apparition, your first instinct is to punch the face you recognize as the clown's, but you instantly regret it. True, the grip of his hands has loosened, but you note with horror that his features have deformed where you struck him, his uneven teeth protruding from his mouth in an excruciatingly inhuman way. Blood is dripping from his lip... floating upwards would be more accurate.

You push him back hard and turn to flee, knowing full well it's no use. He grabs you by the arm and pushes you violently back against the alley wall. You grit your teeth as you feel your back and the back of your skull crash against the hard surface. With one hand, he grips your neck and lifts you to his full height. No matter how hard you pull on his arm, you're unable to free yourself and breathing becomes difficult. The clown brings his face close to yours like an enraged predator.

"I said... don't be scared!!!"

He finishes his sentence by slamming you back against the wall. You close your eyes in pain, your head begins to spin and you no longer feel strong enough to push him away. All you can do is watch him rage at you, hoping it's just another nightmare.

"You don't want to live, I know it! Then why are you afraid? Stupid, ridiculous humans... This fear... So beautiful, so appetizing. How am I supposed to resist this?!"

The clown hits you once more, more brutally. This is too much. As your arms fall unconscious to your sides, you faint under his fingers and everything goes black. The last thing you hear is the clown swearing to himself.

When you open your eyes, you're unable to understand where you are. An old-fashioned smell of mildew assails your nostrils and you see dust flying in the dim light of the room. You realize you're lying on something soft, covered. Probably a mattress on the floor. Soon, the pain in the back of your skull reawakens. You run your hand through your hair to find dried blood tangled in your locks.

You sit up abruptly, the events before you fainted coming back to you in an unbearable headache, and a question forces you to hold your breath. What else has this clown... this thing... done to you? Trembling, your hand raises the old grey blanket over your legs and you begin to inspect yourself... Nothing. At first glance, anyway. Everything suggests that he's just put you down there, nothing more. You breathe again.

Your gaze finally settles around you: you find yourself in an empty room, apart from the mattress you're lying on. The light is diffused, so unnatural that you want to define it as dark, even if that doesn't make sense. The windows are so dirty that you can't tell if it's still night. You have no idea what time it is or how long it's been since the clown attack.

You suddenly see your shoes tossed haphazardly around the room, as well as your bag. That's all it takes for you to rush out of the mattress and rummage through it, your phone being your goal. But you panic when you realize it's buggy. It doesn't look particularly broken though, it simply refuses to work, the screen displaying bizarre glitches and... The message the clown marked last time, in the forest. You throw your phone to the ground in anguished annoyance.

Close your eyes. Inhale. exhale. You've got to get out of here. A hint of determination returning, you pick up your phone, your bag and put on your shoes. Passing as quietly as possible through the first doors you come to, you arrive in a corridor with a staircase leading down a few meters from you. You descend carefully, the steps creaking beneath your feet. But there's no sign of the clown, and the door opposite the steps seems to be the entrance door. You suddenly have the foolish hope of getting out of here without any trouble.

You approach slowly, your hand sliding noiselessly over the handle of the closed door. You turn it slowly... but nothing happens. You pull, you push, quietly at first, then louder and louder, suddenly panic-stricken. But nothing happens. The door doesn't move. It doesn't move at all. As if it were an optical illusion painted on the wall. A groan of despair escapes and you hold back your tears. Inhale. Exhale. All is not lost, there are always the windows.

They're as dirty and dimly lit as those upstairs, plunging the house into an atmosphere of eternal twilight. Some are boarded up, but not all. In a room that looks like a living room, you work hard on one of them, but get the same result as with the door. In a fit of anger, you end up banging on what's supposed to be the glass, even throwing a stool lying around, in vain.

A few seconds pass before a cry of rage comes from your mouth. And you knew that all the noise you'd made would attract the clown. A weak but piercing laugh pushes you to turn towards the entrance to the room. There he is, leaning against the wall, mocking you without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"Silly, silly little human. Thinking you can escape from my house. So stupid, so angry..."

He pauses, and you can see his mocking smile break down, giving way to annoyance, his features turning stern.

"...So scared... again..."

You step back as he moves closer to you. You'd have thought his eyes were blue a second ago... You quickly bend down to grab the stool you threw at the window, tossing it at the clown to distract him and get around him, running towards the living room exit. You already knew it wouldn't work and you're not surprised to feel him propel you to the floor. He barely gives you time to turn around before pinning you down on your back. Your eyes see his face blurred by tears, while you feel warm drool running down your shirt. Above you, the clown shakes frantically, as if arguing with himself about what to do with you.

"Fear... so delicious... Maybe I should... eat you.... No! Or maybe... just a little...?"

He shakes his head like an animal shredding a piece of meat, and the comparison terrifies you.

"No. No! You are..."

His gloved hand caresses your face with a gentleness that makes you sob. Your eyes close tightly, as if that's enough to make you forget everything that's going on.

"...perfect. I need you."

You feel the clown's breath coming closer and your eyes reopen in panic. You can see his lips curling over his sharp teeth, many more of them. Your brain refuses to believe what it's seeing and you start laughing nervously.

"Don't. Be. Scared."

It's an order and he emphasizes it by snapping his teeth together in a jaw-clenching sound that echoes in your head. At this point, he lets go and walks away, leaving you alone on the floor with your migraine, covered in drool. All you hear is the echo of your own delirious laughter, resonating in your eardrums as if it belonged to someone else.

#it 2017 #pennywise #pennywise x reader #pennywise x you #pennywise fanfiction #it #horror #tw: blood #tw: violence #I'm still writting this i'm so happy!!

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tarotwithdanise · 1 year ago

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Your future best friend's personality

1 - 2 - 3

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and the reading itself belong to me. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider. If saved/downloaded the divider use a proper credits and tag/mention along my acc @tarotwithdanise. Expect grammatical errors with this reading, bear with it because english isn't my mother tongue.

💌 check out my back-up account @danisetarot bio ; click the link, choose your favorite deals that you wanted to purchase and then send all of them to my email account ([email protected])

Pile one

This is someone who already on their spiritual awakening. They are someone who you can't just tricked and fooled easily, this person makes you think twice of all your actions. They are smart people, if you play trick ways, they will know it immediately without any hesitation because they are mastermind. You will meet this person to any spiritual groups and places. It can be that this is where they work or they're someone who used to teach others. People come at them to ask for their advices, they're great mentor. They like to inspire and be inspired. They might come off as mysterious and secretive individual too. You two will create a strong foundation of friendships. It's not yet the right time to reveal themselves fully to you. But all of i had said was the highlights of them.

Pile two

-this gonna be long compared to previous pile, this person is like an open book.

If I were describe this person, they always look at the bigger picture. Most likely, this is is someone who have vision board or they already have an idea what they want to be in the future. Most likely this person is someone who have a young spirit or probably younger than you. They enjoy and love to try new things, they're adventurous and brave individual. They're quite rare individual and ready for any change that surrounds them, in fact they're risk taker and will enjoy traveling around and across each country - they're adventurous individual. I see that they're talkative individual, someone who likes to share their MU's and crushes to you. They're typically jolly and has an extrovert personality, they like encouraging people. If I am not mistaken this person is probably the one who will try to get you out of your comfort zone. I picking up a strong masculine energy so they maybe a boy? but they can also be a girl that just embodied a masculinity. The cons of their traits is that, they experience unstable mental health and might have a very childish attitude, they probably has a lot of break downs with their past that's why. It's like they see their past self to you, that's why they're trying their best to help you as they can with pure intention.

They might be young but their experiences is level up into the next level that most of their ages doesn't yet uncover. I do also see here that even though they not really a ‘star pupil’ or a ‘straight A's pupil’ their classmates or their co-workers likes them to be their leader ; someone who will guide and lead them into a project or teamwork. Some people feels very irritated towards them because they're very jolly, hyper and friendly, somehow their friendliness can affect you because you only have them while they have many choices but what's more interesting here is that they're longing always for your presence, you maybe way more matured and intelligent when it's comes to logic rather than them so this is one of reason why few people take an advantage to their innocent and kindness. And what else? They prefer and like more to share their problems and secrets to you more rather than to their other friends. Like they typically see you as their only lifetime best friend while the rest of their friends is temporary. You tickled this person heart, you got their full trust. This feels like a friendship between a straight forward and trash talker person with their wild and funny friend.

Pile three

This is someone who maybe from a well-off family, it's either the relationship with their family is okay or in other way, it's broken. This is someone who is same age as yours, they likes traveling whether inside or outside of country. They also likes country music and artists. They are not emotionally stable and may need someone to lean on. It's hard for them to somehow find balance between two choices. This friendship may lead from friends to lovers, if both of you will pursued this connection. They may not be good at decision making but they are kind person and will do everything to share the life they have to their friends and other people. This person might own atleast one pet at their home and probably someone who may like the color of black. They maybe act spoiled and stupid sometimes but they're totally kind, it's just they used to act one. They may have an unpredictable nature and maybe someone who hold a lot of responsibilities even though they can't.

#pick a card #tarot #pick a pile #free tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot online #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarotblr #witches #tarot witch #witch #witchblr #divination #cartomancy #spirituality #fortune telling

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im-akira · 1 year ago

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Joel Miller x F!Reader | 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 🌿

Chapter 7 : The calm before the storm | Chapter 6 | Summary

Series Summary : Joel Miller is no longer the same man after losing his entire family, except his little brother. A few months later, after saving Ellie from the Fireflies. He now lives in a community of survivors with Ellie and her younger brother, Tommy.

He has only one goal, to ensure his own survival and that of those he loves. Until the day he crossed paths with a young woman and her son in the community. The young woman’s face was particularly familiar.

Are you and Joel strangers or are you a lot more than that ?

Warnings : Mature content angst, smut, romance, blood, violence...

Do not : Claim, Repost, Copy, or Translate my stories anywhere else.

Notes : Reference to certain scenes scenes of the series and the game and Uncharted.

If some things bother you, inconsistent in my story, do not hesitate to tell me this will allow me to improve ! 😊

I apologize in advance but English is not my mother tongue. 💙

~*.♪。��*・゜・＊♪*.♪。★*・゜・＊♪*.♪°~

- « I'm going on patrol today with the others. I'm going to team up with Jesse, he's a friend of Ellie's that she introduced me to at the party. What about you, mom? What are you going to do today? » James already packed his bags last night. He got up early at dawn to review what he had prepared and see what he was missing. Having not slept much, James is a little tired but he regrets nothing of this evening.

- « I'll be on patrol today too. Tell me, how long have you been here looking over your belongings? I didn't hear you arrive last night. » Y/N stands against the wall of his living room, looking at his son with a puzzled look.

- « I did what you told me, I enjoyed this evening. I think my body wasn't ready to drink so much and stay up so late. When I got home it was already late, so I tried to make as little noise as possible in the house. »

- « I see, if you took advantage of it, I can only be satisfied. » Y/N moves away from the wall where she was and kneels next to her son to offer her help. Even if he was an adult, Y/N as a mother will always see him as her little baby. « Do you need help with something? And tell me, did Ellie make you that offer? »

- « Yes, Ellie told me they were looking for volunteers, so I volunteered without asking too many questions. And who asked you to go with her?» James watches out of the corner of his eye as his mother joins him. A mother will never change, wanting to help and protect her child at all costs. « You can check my bag if you want, it will reassure you. »

- Y/N pulls out her son's bag in front of her and begins the inspection. « Joel asked me to be in a band with him. » Y/N scratches the back of his head lightly, finishing his sentence in a dry, quick tone. A funny atmosphere now reigns in the room. Y/N can feel her son's gaze on her without being turned towards him.

- « Okay, I don't have to worry. You'll make a really good team and I know you'll be able to handle yourself if something goes wrong. » James doesn't ask any more questions and stays particularly quiet as he watches her check her bag.

- Y/N puts his hand on James's cheek. He had grown so much that he was no longer the little boy who held her hand when he was afraid of something. Today, James stood by his mother's side unafraid of a fight. « I am so proud of the man you have become James. Your father would also be very proud of you. »

- « Maybe, unfortunately, we will never know. » James is not angry at his father's absence, but rather at himself. He did things to survive and to protect his mother, like everyone else in Jackson. But he wasn't proud of it and if one day his father came back, he wouldn't be able to look him in the eye.

- James pulls out his bag and quickly puts it on his shoulders. He then turns around and finally faces his mother. James sees through his mother's eyes that something is wrong, she is hiding something from him. But he made the choice not to ask anything, if she was not ready to talk to him then he would give her time to be. « I'm going to let you close the house because I have to get to Jesse early, and he needs help getting the equipment ready for all the teams coming in today. »

- « It works. See you later then. »

- « Yes, see you later, mom. »

A few hours later..

It is now eight o'clock in the morning. The sun rises above Jackson. The city is already very hectic early in the morning, as usual everyone does their assigned activity doing their best to succeed and complete it with a little help. Ellie, Dina, James, Jesse and the other youngsters prepare the equipment and horses for today's patrols. Adults were asked to do nothing and wait patiently for calls. Some take advantage of this time to go to lunch or simply meet and chat around a table accompanied by a good coffee. Tommy and his wife Maria are not joining the patrols today because other city priorities prevent them from doing so.

As for Joel, he was waiting for O/N in one of the restaurants in the city. Y/N should arrive normally within a few minutes. Joel hasn’t been so agitated waiting for someone in years. Sleep wasn’t on his side that night either.

After he and Y/N found themselves alone on this bench in front of the sunrise, the minutes passed and the two had to separate to take a different path.

Quietly, neither Joel nor Y/N turned to say anything to each other before leaving, just one last look.

- « If I'm not mistaken, the restaurant is here. » She said in a low voice while looking around. This city is still a labyrinth for her.

- Looking up to the side, Joel can see Y/N entering the restaurant. The young mother seems a little lost. « Y/N here! » He said, raising his voice and hoping to get the young mother's attention.

- The familiar voice rings in Y/N’s ears, it’s Joel’s, he’s sitting at the entrance to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet. « Sorry for the delay. » She said as she walked towards him.

- « You don't have to apologize, you've only been in Jackson for a few days. You don't really know her yet. » He concluded, smiling slightly at Y/N.

- « You're right. Well, to compensate, I pay for lunch. » Y/N could see Joel's facial expression change, he was going to say something. The young mother intervenes at the last minute so as not to give him the opportunity to contradict. « And that's non-negotiable, Joel. »

- « Well, I didn't mean anything anyway," he said teasingly. He knew perfectly well that Y/N had understood him even before he said a word, after all, she was his wife, so it was normal that she knew him inside out.

- « Perfect then. » Y/N goes past Joel to push open the restaurant door and go inside first.

- « There are a lot more people here than usual. » Joel is not far from the young mother and goes through groups of people to reach the bar and Y/N.

- «I think this place is very nice, I should take James here once. » She said quietly after leaning against the restaurant bar.

- Joel arrives in front of the bar, he quickly lays his eyes on Y/N until he immediately turns around after feeling a presence against his right shoulder. An old man is just to his right, Seth is the restaurant manager. « Hi, Seth. »

- « How are you, Miller? I see you didn't come alone today. » Seth never saw Joel being accompanied by anyone other than Ellie. The young mother must be someone important or just new to Jackson, Seth does not dwell on it anymore.

- « Thanks and yes, she's new to Jackson. She's from the group that arrived a few weeks ago. » Concluding his sentence, Joel is about to change the subject. « Tell me, do you have the sandwiches I asked for? »

- « Yeah, I have them here. » Seth hands the sandwich bag to Joel. It was a package wrapped in brown cloth and accompanied by a small rope that held everything together.

- « Thank you Seth. » Joel comes to put his hand on Seth's shoulder to give him a light clap, this one meaning "goodbye". Then he puts the sandwiches in one of his large pockets in his jacket and joins Y/N. « Have you found your happiness? » He asked.

- While Joel was talking with Seth, Y/N took the liberty of buying two hot coffees. « Yes, I keep my word. Here's your coffee, do you want me to carry it on our drive? »

- « No, don't bother, I'll wear both. » Joel doesn't give Y/N time to respond and gets both coffees out of his hands. During the movement, the hands gently touch that of the young mother. Y/N didn't seem to be fidgeting, a simple smile appeared on his face, then put his hands in his pockets.

It is as if this distance that they had imposed on themselves had not been present since that night. Each in their own way and at their own pace, gets rid of the barriers they had imposed between them.

- « I have sandwiches for patrol, a friend made them. »

- « I will have to thank him, he is very nice. While waiting for the kids to call, could you give me a quick tour of Jackson? »

- « Of course, I don’t mind. » Joel leans slightly to the right and pushes the front door with his leg, trying to keep a balance with the coffees he holds in his hands. « After you. »

- Y/N laughs at his behavior, the cafes come close to making a mess on the floor despite the balance Joel is holding. « Be careful with coffee, where you risk destroying breakfast. »

- « It won't happen, count on me. » He concludes following Y/N.

A great day awaits them both. In front of the short time in front of them, Joel made as Y/N asked him, a visit of Jackson. Of course, he didn't manage to show her everything but the essential was there, for the rest it will be for later.

After the party, Joel and Y/N felt closer than before, they had crossed a barrier together. After all, they were husband and wife in the past, the connection was made without much difficulty. As an adult and mother, Y/N cannot afford to throw herself directly into Joel's arms, especially in front of the others and James.

Despite the fact that they feel so good when they're around each other. Y/N and Joel keep a perfectly normal demeanor so as not to arouse suspicion in some people, James shouldn't know the truth Right now.

A few minutes later..

This is when Jackson's patrols would begin. Jesse and the rest of the children have kept their word, the equipment is ready as well as the horses of all the groups. The only thing missing now is getting the equipment to the teams before they venture out of town. Jesse comes to the center, in front of all the groups present, some misses for personal or other reasons.

- « I see almost everyone is here. We can start. » He concluded, leaving the rest of his group to distribute the weapons to others. Meanwhile, another group opens the gates to the entrance to the city. « Okay, listen to me. Here we are. You know the drill. You follow the road, you take notes, and you kill the infected you encounter. If you fall bigger than you, you come back. No bullshit, okay? Go ahead. » Jesse moves away from the entrance to make room for the groups.

- « Okay, when should we go. » Y/N isn't particularly stressed about being out of town. She and James have been out for a long time and Joel is there with her. If she needs help, she can count on his help. After stroking his horse’s neck, Y/N takes the saddle and looks at his teammate to his right to see what he plans to do now.

- « I'm going ahead, okay? » Y/N nods and says "yes". Joel then mounts the saddle and passes the young mother, moving towards the exit of the city. He could see out of the corner of his eye how James looked at him and his mother. Joel couldn't blame her for worrying about her. James attaches great importance to keeping the promise made since the day he and Joel parted the night before everything changed.

During the route, Y/N stayed ahead of Joel. Not that she doesn't like him, but staying behind doesn't thrill her that much. Then she got Joel to cover his back in case something went wrong. Joel couldn't help looking at her from behind on the path, it's like a sun standing before him, that's what Y/N, his wife and for him.

A light through the darkness.

- « Come on! Over here, Joel. » She said, raising her voice, pointing the way to her teammate.

- « I'm right behind you. » Joel's horse seems slightly agitated after crossing the river that leads them. The water was cool, he probably didn't expect to feel this feeling so soon. « It's okay, it's just water. » Joel gently strokes his horse's neck to comfort him in his restlessness.

As Joel and Y/N walked through the different landscapes, a silence settled between them. The young mother ended it without really wanting it. Bad memories came flooding back to her, she was caught off guard, which cost her a few tears in her face.

- Giving a stirrup to his horse, Joel advances to find himself at the same pace of Y/N's horse. The young mother does not seem to move her gaze, far too busy wiping her tears from her face. With a gentle gesture, Joel puts his hand against Y/N's back and makes small movements against it to make her understand that everything is fine and that he is there for her. « If you need a break, let me know okay? »

- « Thanks... » She said with difficulty, still keeping her gaze in front of her. Even by the thickness of his jacket, Y/N could feel a slight warmth and softness through Joel's gesture. Her bad memories vanish in an instant and her heartbeat and tears gradually stop. It's as if he had a certain gift saying to her, "I'm here, it's okay."

- « I know I'm not in the best position to give someone a moral lesson. But I have learned over time that in order to heal my wounds, I must have the courage to face them. » Joel takes a light breath before continuing, his gaze lost for a moment on his watch on his wrist and then on Y/N. « What saves us is knowing that we cannot heal our wounds, but we can live with them, we can live with them without necessarily being lost. » He concluded, gently removing his hand from the young mother's back and returning his hands to the reins of his horse.

- « Yes you are right. » She says, looking at Joel. A slight smile appears on his face. He didn't do much, a gesture, a few words and yet Y/N felt much better now. He always had this way of reassuring her, of using the right gestures or the right words at the right time. Despite the years, Joel had not changed on this side.

After miles from Jackson, the group is almost at their destination. They must first check one of the posts before going any further. It's break time for Y/N and Joel. Fortunately thanks to the coffee this morning, neither of them seems very tired but the hunger is present. Y/N's belly couldn't hide it any longer, the sandwiches that you can pick up Joel from the restaurant later will do the trick to keep them going for the day.

- « We should tie the horses here. » He suggested heading for the entrance to the station. The entrance seems empty with rooms turned over by time, civilization has had its day here too.

- « Maybe you should check the place out and see if there's any danger? » Y/N has never been here until today, she doesn't know the place inside out, unlike her teammate. Joel is in the best position in the group to begin inspecting the location for potential dangers.

- « I already know the place, if someone tries to hide here then he's not very smart. » He gets off his horse first with the help of the saddle. His horse tends to rear up when he's scared so Joel prefers to stay on his toes. He concentrates on Y/N for a moment to bring his gaze back in front of him. « Follow me, I have something to show you. » He rearranges his bag and does not move from his position.

- « Something like what ? » She asked curiously. Y/N likes surprises even if they are good or bad, the gesture of having done something is there. The horses are both tied to the post near a wall not far from the entrance, they seem calm. The young mother walks up to Joel to see what he wants to show her.

Joel passes by to show her the way, heading towards a broken wall. Y/N can see a slight passage in front of her, there was something on the other side. Joel cross to find himself on the other side without saying a word.

Y/N does the same and crosses in turn the passage of the wall to find himself again alongside Joel. It was installed and leaning against the edge of the wall. Y/N joins him at his side and observes the panoramic view offered to him with wide eyes.

- « What do you think of this view? Ellie and I were here a while ago. Tommy had asked us to rummage around this area and we found this outpost and the beautiful scenery that accompanies it. » His gaze did not can prevent himself from going back and forth on the landscape as well as on Y/N, it was stronger than him, his feelings defy him.

- « In a word, it's breathtaking, Joel. » Y/N closes his eyes and takes a light breath, the air here was so soft and relaxing at the same time. Life in the city and now this life changes a lot of things. The discovery of a new thing every day does not bother Y/N, this community and his son allow him to appreciate it despite the current world and the monsters that occupy it. « Really, thank you. » Once her words are spoken, she will lean on Joel's cheek to kiss him.

Joel was so busy with the view in front of him and his thoughts that it took him a while to figure out what was going on. He and Y/N had nothing to fear from stares here, other than their hair, no one was there to judge what they were doing.

On the other hand, who can judge them? Person. In this world, getting attached to someone is like signing a death warrant. Joel and Y/N knew it full well through the ups and downs they went through.

Now that they found each other, everything was different, the vision of the future was different.

- « Let's fill out the register before we leave here. » Joel remains posed against the edge of the wall and observes Y/N to wait for an answer from him. An hour ago she was completely confused and now she is radiant thanks to what she sees, Joel was proud of him.

- « Okay, give me a minute and I'm here. » Her body didn't want to leave this moment, this landscape. He looks so handsome, he was making her travel without wanting to. He missed the outings in the forest with Joel and the children terribly, he missed that time.

- « Stay here or wait for me in front of the horses. I won't be long. » Joel didn't want to interfere with Y/N's thoughts, we all deserve a break.

While Joel left to carry out his task. Y/N for his part stayed several more minutes to get lost in his past memories. She will go later to join the horses and see if all is well on their side.

- While waiting for Joel's return, the young mother equips herself with her brush from her saddle and comes to clean her horse with delicacy. A noise behind her rises to her ears, thatdo slightly startled, she points her gun at the stranger. « Wha-. Joel? Excuse me.. »

- Hands up, Joel holds back a little laughing about the situation they’re in. « I’m going to leave this on hunger, okay? » He says calmly, smiling at Y/N to make him understand that there is no problem with his gesture, it is a simple reflex.

- « I think you're right about one thing, I'm getting hungry. And leaving on an empty stomach is still not the best thing to do. »

- Joel picks up the sandwiches in one of his jacket pockets, undoes the package which was wrapped in brown cloth and a small piece of string. 4 sandwiches arrive, Joel takes two and puts the rest in the package. « I suggest we save the other two for tonight. » He gives the sandwich to Y/N.

- « Yes, that's a good idea, thanks. » Y/N takes the sandwich smiling at Joel. The young mother had noticed from the start of the road that he was very attentive without wanting to. Despite his character and personality, the years have not changed her husband.

After the meal is over, the group checks their gear before leaving and sets out again to reach their final destination. The road was not particularly calm, in terms of conversation. Joel and Y/N talked a bit about everything but the past, the atmosphere was quite different from this morning. The longer they stayed together, the more they talked together, the closer they grew. The two were so close in the past, but the years have passed and destroyed everything, making them complete strangers. Two strangers who have found each other.

After arriving at their destination, Joel and Y/N check every corner of the place together. No humans on the horizon except several infected without further danger. Their first property and cleaning the place before leaving, which is done after a few minutes, the place is back to its usual calm.

On the way back, the group decides to take another path to avoid leaving traces behind them and others following them. AThere, they are now not far from Jackson, a narrow passage seems to be on their way.

- « Let's leave the horses here and take a closer look. » He said calmly approaching the passage in question.

- Y/N drops the reins of his horse to follow him inremaining behind him and observe this famous passage. « Is there a problem with thispath ? » She asked, passing Joel a bit and taking a closer look at the road they must take. A hill rises above the road with the weathering of the road.

- « This path doesn't really seem safe. The road is damaged and the horses are starting to get tired, so…» Joel immediately stops talking when he hears the sound of several stones falling from somewhere. Her body quickly turns towards the young mother and her eyes just above her, tragedy would occur if Joel did not intervene in the next second. « Y/N! Bend down! » Joel throws himself under the rocks to block with his body and protect Y/N from the debris. He coughs lightly after inhaling the dust from the fall and then lies down next to the breathless young mother, his breath was heavy but they were alive.

- Was she in a dream or in reality? Is she dead or alive? A loud thump whispers in his ears, the shock of falling rocks despite Joel's intervention. Coming back to reality, Y/N recovers slightly after understanding Joel's gesture to protect and save her. Not everyone would have done what he just did, the protective side of Joel had just been put forward. The young mother comes to lie on Joel's chest and listen to his heartbeat. He seems slightly restless since Y/N snuggled up to him. « Thanks for saving me, Joel. » The young mother raises her head to meet his gaze and his smile.

Joel looks away after Y/N joins him and snuggles up to him. She's so close to him now, Joel doesn't know what to say or do. He never thought of the possibility that he could feel his sensations there again. It's as if time had just stopped and given way to Y/N and Joel the time to forgive each other and find each other.

- Y/N's fingers lightly trace the exposed skin of Joel's unbuttoned shirt top, then she pulls her hand up to her husband's face,wiping off some traces of dust. « Look at you, you got dust all over your face. »

Without answering,Joel lifts a lock of hair from Y/N's face and then pulls it gently towards him to bring his lips closer to hers through the silence. In what he was about to do, he was in control of nothing, his body had taken control for him. What happened today, Joel could have lost his wife in front of his eyes and it was unthinkable for him. It was out of the question to repeat the same mistake a second time.

Y/N puts a smile on his lips and lets him. Joel was scared, he didn't want to say it, but his body was showing it, that kiss that said a lot about what he felt in his whole body right now.

Allwas going to well, Y/N was alive and she was there against him.

Joel put all his heart and energy into this kiss. Her hands resting on the young mother's cheeks can feel tears running down Y/N's skin. They each take advantage of the present moment, the happiness floating for one and the other. It is after a few minutes that they deviate to recover oxygen. Their eyes meet through this precious moment.

- « Well. You had to be close to death for me to cross that barrier..» Joel used to say that with humor. He didn't need to explain himself, Y/N had analyzed him very well. It was a way for him to say, « You mean more to me than anything. And it worries me, because if I were to lose you again, I would find myself lost again. »

It was wrong on the one hand, he still had Ellie, James, Tommy and Jackson by his side. But Y/N was way above everyone, she was his wife.

After this misadventure, Joel and Y/N had to find another way to reach Jackson, bad luck for them as night begins to fall. But the luck had not left them completely because on the way, some abandoned houses were within their reach. It remains to be seen whether one or more dangers are hidden there, both human and infected.

At first sight of the behavior of the horses, nothing was to report but that does not mean that the way was really clear. Joel was the first to set foot on the ground to observe the surroundings of the nearest house, Y/N was sure to do the same a few minutes after him.

- « Y/N! Join me! » Joel had found nothing on his side as a possible danger, on the contrary, he found something that could change this end of the day. Luckily the sky was completely uncovered which provides a full view of the starry sky.

- « I'm coming! » The young mother was at the back of the house, she is exploring on her own to find something, except for a place that has been dilapidated by time, there was nothing to report. Her hands gripped the straps of her bag tightly, and she walked over to where Joel was.

Joel had taken his bag off his shoulders and then placed it on the grass in the garden, which was on the other side of the house. He then landed against and made himself more comfortable awaiting Y/N's arrival. Her attention was tonight to her and only to her.

- « Joel? What are you doing lying in the grass? » Before the young mother can continue her questions, still in silence, Joel will come and stretch out his arms, an invitation to come and lie down with him for a while. That side, soft, caring, protective, Y/N was one of the few people on this planet who could see it.

- « I don't eat, you know. Even if Seth's sandwiches don't leave me completely- » Joel stops talking once Y/N gets closer to him. In turn, in silence, the young mother removes her bag and places it right next to her. She didn't need her bag to hold herself, Joel had offered her a beautiful invitation against him, in his arms, through a warm embrace.

- « So tell me, why did you choose to be here? » Y/N understood that Joel did not do it by chance or by desire. He had something in mind, behind this choice. She settled further into Joel's chest and arms, her eyes never leaving his face.

Beside her, Joel was vulnerable.

- « Because I needed to have you near me. » This time Joel does not meet Y/N's gaze. He was completely lost through the starry sky that opened before his eyes. He had so much on his heart, questions and answers to say. But Joel is the man he is today, suppressing his feelings and keeping it all inside.

Even in front of his wife, he had this part of him that refused to leave.

Since Ellie came into his life, everything changed, his vision of the future and the world he was in had changed. This little girl has become his world, a world he has protected and will protect until his last days.

Today, his son and his wife were back in his life. How did he see the future now?

- « One day Ellie asked me a rather special question, and she was like, 'Why don't you forget it if it hurts so much? This little girl is very smart because she knew my answer in advance, but she needed to hear me say it. To make me talk about the past, to bring out all the words that are stuck in me. » Joel hugs the young mother against him, her gaze is always lifted towards the sky.

Y/N was very quiet and attentive to what Joel was telling her. It opened to her like a book. After all, she was one of the best people to help and support Joel. One of his hands rests on his chest, just above his heart. His heart rate was particularly stable, at least for the moment.

- « I replied: Because it would be like forgetting the best part of my life. It would be to forget the one who gave me new hope in my life. Forget my wife, the mother of my children. Even if it kills me now, I'll keep it all inside. I can't forget, I can't forget anything, because it's deep inside me. » Once he finished saying what was on his heart, Joel's eyes were watery and he refused to meet Y/N's gaze. He could feel her, her gaze, her attention, her worries.

- « Joel…Look at me, please. » The young mother will come and put her two hands against Joel's cheeks. Trying without forcing to turn her face towards his. He didn't give in the first time, but after a minute of thinking he let it go and got him to look into his gaze. « You don't have to bemoan the past anymore. The scars you carry will probably never go away, because they made you who you are today. »

Y/N wanted to be there for him as he is there for her. She would be the shoulder on which he could scream, cry or just rest. In this world, everyone suffers, whatever the reason or reasons, they hurt. She had in front of her a broken, tired man, but who in his heart still had this soft, caring and protective part.

- One of her hands gently caresses the top of her cheek. « But I'm here now, I'm going to help you carry all the weight you have on your shoulders. Ellie, James, Tommy, we're here, you're no longer fighting your past or yourself alone, Joel. »

- Joel didn’t say anything at the time, he just turned around to face Y/N completely. His arms then wrapped around his waist without warning, the action was done gently without shaking anyone. When Joel felt his body against Y/N’s despite the layers of clothing, he cracked. The young mother instinctively placed her fingers through her grey hair, placing light little kisses on the top of her head. « Relax, breathe, let go and live now, Joel. »

His tired body was shaking as much as it could. A few sniffles from Joel were heard. All this in the silence and the respect they had for each other. Words were not necessary at that time, just warmth between two bodies, caresses and kisses.

The evening ended in a way that Joel hadn’t thought of. Once he had completely calmed down and relaxed, Y/N pulled out of his arms to stand up and reach out.

- « Don't say anything, let it be and follow me. »

The young mother had an idea in mind and Joel would soon find out what she was up to. Y/N lets her retrieve her bag and then takes her inside the dilapidated house. His hands were tangled with Joel's, he hadn't protested or even hesitated, he let himself be done as requested, with a slight smile on the corner of his lips.

- « I will take care of going to install the horses in the garage of the house. In the meantime, sit in the bedroom. I won't be long.” Y/N saw in Joel's posture that he was against letting her do this task alone, but the watchword was to follow and not say anything. The young mother quickly left the hallway to leave Joel alone with his things.

Joel did what Y/N asked him to do in the bedroom. Aside from the condition of the room, the bed seemed to be in pretty decent condition. He thought he saw the one in his old apartment he shared with Tess. He left his bag on the floor, not far from the bed, to take off his shoes, then he fell on the mattress.

A few minutes later…

Y/N had finished putting the horses in a safe place but also so that they could rest quietly. They weren't agitated during the venue change. Once inside the house, Y/N could just hear light snoring coming from the bedroom.

His idea had worked, Joel seemed to have quickly fallen into the arms of sleep after this heart-to-heart talk. The event at the start of the day had also particularly shaken him. He didn't show it, but he was exhausted.

Discreetly, Y/N got rid of his bag and his shoes, like Joel. She then dives onto the mattress, just behind Joel's back. Once settled in, his hands move and settle around his waist, hugging him tightly. She could feel it, her body was relaxed, almost at peace.

To her surprise, Joel reacts to her gesture. Without a word, he tangles his fingers with hers. He makes small circles with his thumb, a cute and sweet gesture. Her body then slowly turns towards the Y/N face, their faces quickly coming together.

- « I love you, Y/N. »

Y/N didn't expect to hear Joel say his words. So yes, they got closer, they managed to kiss, touch and break down his barriers. Nothing was an obligation, they had each other's permission. They didn't need to talk, their bodies communicate with each other so easily.

Joel did not give the young mother time to respond to his statement. His breath was near, his nose now brushing hers, his beard tickling her skin, his lips pressing against hers. Y/N's body reacted on its own, letting itself be carried away by the softness and tenderness of the gesture.

When Joel's hands started traveling under the Y/N shirt, he felt something on his skin. Worried, Joel breaks the kiss, then gently lifts the garment and looks up at her. A scar, quite old but deep. Joel kept his hand just above it and looked up at Y/N.

- « You- »

- « We all have scars, Joel. »

Joel doesn't say a word, remains silent, he bends down slightly so that his lips can reach the place of the wound. He deposited several kisses there with great sweetness, this gesture was filled with love and anxiety. Deep down, he was having a hard time accepting that his wife had been hurt and that he hadn't been there for her, to protect her.

- « Joel, stop thinking, I know you, everything is fine. James was there, at that time our son saved my life. Y/N comes to caress his hand which rests on his belly, he was worried and his body said it clearly. « He's got something, you know, being stubborn and brave. Do you know who I am talking about? » The young mother smirked, her forehead came to rest against Joel's.

- « From you and you from me, that’s a certainty. »

She had suffered, like him, their bodies were marked forever. But that doesn't change Joel's feelings about Y/N. Joel has always been impressed with who Y/N was and who she is today.

She wears her scars with dignity, despite the suffering of her years, she still has the strength to smile and move forward. She had lost a lot of herself and yet she tried every day again and again to keep hope in herself. Survive in this dead and violent world.

- « I will never judge you for what you have become. My feelings and my love for you will never change. »

Seeing the man James had become, Joel had no words to express all the love he had for her and how she was the best mother and wife in his eyes.

He loved her to death, and the barriers they built against each other only made his feelings for her stronger. Now that he had found her, Joel couldn't let her go.

A few hours later…

The night had been very hectic for the couple, Joel and Y/N had fallen into each other's arms after the act, too exhausted to pursue a second task. A beautiful morning comes for them. Neither wanted to get out of this embrace, the warmth of their bodies was far too nice to untie.

During the night, Joel had put his arms around his wife's waist, he wanted to know that she was against him and not far from him, a mark of love but also of affection towards Y/N.

The young mother on her side had dragged her fingers into those of Joel, this small gesture came to respond to his warm embrace.

It had been ages since Joel had had anyone by his side, in front of him, when he woke up. And when he opened his eyes, Y/N's silhouette was still there, right in front of him.

After a few minutes of observation, Joel realized that Y/N was sleeping in a very deep sleep. He certainly didn't want to wake her up, just watch her and enjoy this moment, this dream. His chest heaved slowly and Joel's eyes couldn't leave his face, which seemed to be soothed.

He especially didn't want to think about the fact that once they got back to Jackson, things would be like before they left. The difference is that they weren't as close as they are now.

Would Y/N want to stay in this quote where she wants to tell the truth to James as well as the rest of the town. Reveal that Joel is James' father and husband.

A few minutes later...

Oh hey

- « Are you real? Or am I just in a dream? » Joel's voice was a mixture of hard and soft, a morning voice.

You don't know, babe

- « Well... » Y/N slowly moves his body in front of Joel's. He left his arm just so she could put her head back on it and feel like she had him close to him again. « I am here in front of you and you are here in front of me. I would say that we are in reality. Unless of course that's a problem for you? »

When you hold me

Joel doesn't respond at the moment. He was too focused on the beautiful person next to him. His other hand came to rest on the waist of the young mother, which allowed him to hold her and have her closer to him. He was hypnotized, was it really real? Did he have the right to relive this feeling with her?

And kiss me slowly, It's the sweetest thing

To love and be loved back.

You're the coffee that I need in the morning

It is in silence that he comes to put his hand on Y/N's cheek. His gaze does not depart from his. Y/N leans slightly to give Joel better access. Joel smiles at the proposal and approaches her lips with a smile on his face.

You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring

- « You are... » Joel stops inches from Y/N's lips. Both could feel each other's warm breath and warmth.

I just wanna see how beautiful you are

They spent a few moments like that, through the silence, breathless stares and laughter broke out between the two of them. Y/N moved to lie on Joel's chest, opening his arm, offering his chest so she could rest her head and listen to his heartbeat.

You know that I see it, I know you're a star

- « Can we stay like this forever? »

Where you go I follow, No matter how far

- « Darling... »

If life is a movie, you're the best part, oh oh oh

- « Darling ? » Joel hummed when he heard Y/N say it. He hadn't heard anyone call him that in twenty years. He liked that and he liked that it was his wife telling him.

You're the one that I desire

- « Yes, you. Old man. »

When we wake up, And then we make love

- « Mmh.. Alright, I see. » Joel gently pulls his arm away from Y/N's head. He will then stand directly above her to get a better angle. Then, he will start kissing her and come to tickle her body, more precisely the sensitive parts.

It makes me feel so nice

- « N-No Joel is not doing what you have in mind! I hate tickling and you know it! » Y/N tries to struggle under the influence of her husband, but it was a complicated task.

You're my water when I'm stuck in the desert

- « Yes, I know that, baby. » He knew that and he knew the body of Y/N on his fingertips even after his long years without seeing it. He wanted to make him pay with tenderness and kisses, that he was not so old and that he still had energy in stock.

You're the sunshine on my life

The morning ended with Joel and Y/N trying to enjoy a few more hours of sleeping together, in each other's warmth. When it's time to leave, the two dress and prepare for the return trip to Jackson.

After everything that had just happened during those two days, neither of them wanted to go back to this town pretending nothing had happened. It was impossible.

- « How are we going to tell James, Ellie and the others? » Y/N standing right next to Joel on horseback. She was in a posture that shows she was calm and attentive.

- Joel had a slight smile on his face. He didn't have time to ask her whether or not she wanted to face all this, the truth and their feelings in front of others. « We will just tell the truth and face this together, is the best thing to do. »

Joel didn't want to make the same mistake with James. He lied to Ellie to protect her and keep her close to him, but he wasn't blind and neither was the girl. He and Ellie knew very well that there was a lack of truth in the promise Joel had made. Even if Joel could go back and erase what he did or said, he wouldn't change anything, because Ellie was his world and nothing and no one could take it away from her.

When they got back to Jackson, something happened and neither Joel nor Y/N could have predicted what was going to happen. It was the beginning of a nightmare and a reality that was going to hurt a lot.

James came running without a word towards the two adults, puis il frappa violemment Joel au visage, le tirant légèrement en arrière. Y/N didn't believe what she had just seen. His body will come to interpose between the two men.

- « Oh hey! What's wrong with you James!? »

- « I forbid you to touch or approach my mother, do you understand me Joel ?! »

This is what happens when you let the lies take hold, and the truth comes out. ~*.♪。★*・゜・＊♪*.♪。★*・゜・＊♪*.♪°~ If you want to be marked on my future stories, let me know in the comments. Thank you again for reading ! 😊

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

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the-queen-and-the-king · 8 months ago

Text

Gratin dauphinois

Summary: Emily and Aaron are cooking together a French meal and Aaron is quite a disruptive student. This is an appendix to Seven days only, but the only thing you need to know is that Aaron spent a week with Emily when she was under witness protection.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss

Contents: smut, oral sex (f receiving) and cooking NSFW/MINORS DNI

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

“Well, come on, it's time to cook,” she said, slapping her neighbor's thigh with the flat of her hand.

“What? Again?” wondered the latter, frowning.

“Aaron, the last meal we had was breakfast, and that was over five hours ago.”

The BAU director watched Emily as she stood next to the sofa they'd been laying on a second earlier. She was wearing one of his shirts, loosely buttoned, and her pajama shorts. Nothing more. He wanted to say something back, but the light streaming through the windows made the white fabric transparent enough for him to see her breasts. His lover caught his absent gaze, lowered her nose and rolled her eyes. They had stayed in bed until late in the morning – for them, used to taking off at the crack of dawn – before enjoying a few slices of toast over a cup of coffee, chatting and playing footsie with each other under the table. Then, as they talked – they'd had so much to say in all the time they'd been circling around – they moved to the sofa and, curled up against each other, extended their confidences. The sun had continued its course without bothering them and the afternoon was here. And she was hungry.

“Stop drooling and come help me,” she ordered, her fists on her hips.

“What do you have planned?” he asked, getting to his feet in turn.

“Un gratin dauphinois,” the young woman announced with a certain pride.

She saw her partner's eyes sparkle and knew that his thoughts had drifted away from her culinary preoccupations. For some reason, he loved hearing her speak a language other than English, even if he couldn't understand it. For him, unfamiliar words, pronounced with a particular intonation, aroused both admiration and excitement. This woman's intelligence impressed him as much as it attracted him, and he moved closer to her to take her in his arms. However, the female profiler easily guessed his intentions and clamped her hand over his face to prevent him from going any further. Her stomach was screaming, and there was no way she was going to be distracted by this man and his terribly sexy smile.

“In the kitchen, sir.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, hilarious.

She led the way and he followed in her footsteps, not hesitating to take advantage of the bird's-eye view of her perfectly bare legs and the relief he glimpsed behind her wrinkled shirt.

“Stop staring at my ass and put on an apron,” she advised, throwing the fabric at him unexpectedly.

She held back a laugh when she saw him vainly trying to catch the projectile he hadn't seen coming. Eventually, he picked it up off the floor and, after sticking out his tongue, threaded it around his neck. She did the same for her part and headed for the island, where some of the ingredients were already on hand. She didn't need the recipe; it had been engraved in her brain for years, so many times had she made it over and over again.

“So, Chief, what do you want from me?” he inquired, standing tall beside her.

Years ago, its large size had given her a few cold sweats – that was before she discovered the teddy bear hiding behind those perpetually furrowed brows – but now she found it reassuring and soothing. His broad shoulders were also a call to desire. She'd already clutched them a number of times since the start of the week, and so far they hadn't failed her. From the sneer that tugged at the corners of his lips, Emily knew she'd been silent too long, and her opposite was beginning to suspect something about the content of her thoughts.

“… Peel me those three, thirty pounds of potatoes while I get to work on the garlic cloves.”

She placed before his eyes a dusty bag filled with tubers she'd bought from the village greengrocer next door. He glanced inside and, spotting the patches of grayish soil stuck to the vegetable skins, knew he was in for a thorough clean-up before tackling the task she'd given him. He lifted the bag and took advantage of the fact that it was passing behind her back on the way to the sink to brush the curves of her thighs. She immediately tensed, widening her eyelids and opening her mouth to protest. Her recriminations were nevertheless lost at the back of her throat when her pupils fell on his assailant's buttocks, molded in his pale blue boxer shorts. Upstairs, he wore a simple, ideally-fitted t-shirt. Her fingers tingled as she imagined slipping them underneath to caress his back before, perhaps, venturing to the frontline and sneaking up to that end that had brought her so much satisfaction since Monday.

“What are you going to do with the garlic cloves?” he questioned as he opened the water, oblivious to the effect he was having on her.

“I'll slice the first and use the other for the platter.”

“The platter? He repeated, raising an eyebrow in her direction. What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

She pretended to snub him before cutting the peeled garlic into small pieces. She skinned the second and placed it aside on the marble. Aaron continued his work, washing generously the potatoes. She leaned next to him to make sure he wasn't needlessly wasting precious liquid, and her irises locked onto his hands. They rubbed the slightly granular skin with a delicacy that made her almost jealous. A feeling made all the more idiotic by the fact that she'd had their undivided attention last night, the day before, the evening before and so on since he'd burst in on her doorstep.

“Are you making sure I'm not messing around?” He was being ironic with a provocative expression.

Although he made a point of never profiling those closest to him, he didn't need to think too hard to know what was going through his neighbor's head. She longed for him, just as he longed for her. The question was whether he'd be able to get her off the rails before the end of this recipe. It was an interesting challenge that he was immediately up to.

“I'm just making sure you're not drowning them,” she retorted in her most confident tone.

She then moved away towards the fridge, putting a hand on his bottom as she went. The metal door hid her mutinous smile and flushed cheeks from her partner's inquisitive gaze. She retrieved the jar of fresh cream, the carton of milk and the tub of butter, all from a local cooperative. Using scales and a measuring cup, she weighed seven oz of cream into a large bowl and measured out a little less than a quart and a half of milk. Then she turned to her cupboards in search of her stewpot. She discovered it in its usual place, on the highest shelf. Normally, she'd climb onto a chair to retrieve it, but she had another option this time.

“Aaron, can you grab that for me up there? Please,” she added, sounding pleading.

He abandoned his ablutions to see what she was talking about, and then looked down at her.

“What do I get out of it?”

“The right to eat.”

He leaned towards her, framing her body with his arms without touching her, his fingers resting on the edges of the work surface. Barely a centimeter separated them, and a tiny impulse from either would be enough for their lips to collide.

“Try again,” he whispered in her ear, as his spicy scent invaded her nostrils and his warmth radiated down to her skin.

The giant possessed the strangeness of not being sensitive to hunger, thirst or sleep. In fact, the prospect of being deprived of a meal didn't work on him. On the other hand, he was not indifferent to other needs, and his hostess's close proximity aroused pleasant sensations in him.

“What if I told you that the sooner we finish this recipe, the sooner we can move on to... dessert,” she offered, shamelessly palming the negotiator's asses.

He smiled, brought his mouth close to hers to kiss her and moved away at the last moment to turn around and bring her back what she'd asked for. They wrinkled their eyelids in unison as they faced each other again, issuing a mute challenge to the other in this erotic showdown.

“Why don't you peel it all off instead of acting like an idiot, she resumed, trying to control the quivering in her voice. Without peeling your fingers, patate!”

Over the previous few days, he'd shown her how clumsy he was with kitchen utensils, and she had no desire to go to the emergency room.

“What?” he croaked, bewildered.

“I said: patate.”

“What does that mean?” he logically questioned her, forgetting all about his mission.

She walked in his direction to reach the condiment shelf, with an unnatural swaying step.

“It's a cute insult for someone who's a bit stupid, she explained, grabbing the grated nutmeg. And it’s also the other name of the potato.”

She then retraced her steps to place her loot next to the whole garlic, and crouched down to remove her largest rectangular platter from a drawer. When she straightened up, he was right next to her, and he had that bratty look that sometimes peeled back the layers of his customary stoicism. She'd discovered his rebellious past two days before, and it seemed to be still there, buried beneath his suit and his good manners. And she'd be lying if she said she was insensitive to it.

“Patate,” he said, trapping her again against the worktop.

A shiver ran through her belly. She'd never heard him speak anything but English, and the way his deep voice had softened even more as he switched to French gave her a warm flush.

“Is that how they say it?”

“… Y… yes,” she confirmed, swallowing.

He was very close and she was sure he could see her cheeks flush in spite of herself.

“You know any other insults like that?”

“Oh, yes! She assured him, regaining her composure. The French have a rich vocabulary for this.”

“Like what?”

“Like, go take care of the potatoes, we've got work to do next.”

He smiled and slipped his hands into the small of her back to pull her closer to him. She instinctively placed her palms on his pectorals to curb his ardor, although a certain part of her anatomy didn't mind shortening the distance between them even more.

“Pourquoi?” [why?]

Aaron would have liked to extend this attempt to speak Molière’s language, but his skills in this domain were not up to scratch. Fortunately for him, the woman he loved had an astonishing perceptiveness, which was nevertheless shaken by surprise. She had clearly not expected to hear him express himself in this way and, given the acceleration of her heartbeat – which he could feel beneath his fingers – was enjoying the discovery.

“Je appris quelques mots, [I learn a few words]” he continued, smiling knowingly.

“I… I can see that,” she stammered, as excited as ever.

“Tu es très belle. [You’re very beautiful]”

With her face ablaze, she narrowly avoided jumping at his neck, wrapping her legs around his hips and begging him to take her right away between the cutting board and the potholders. She did, however, allow herself a hors d'oeuvre, kissing him for a long time. Then she pushed him away as he began to harden against her belly.

“Potatoes, Dom Juan.”

“Yes, sir!” he responded with a slightly disrespectful military salute.

So that this step, surely the longest in the recipe, didn't drag on beyond reason – it was already nearly two o'clock – she helped him by taking half the tubers in her charge. She noticed that he wasn't particularly comfortable with this task, which required so much precision. This might seem strange for a guy who was a sniper, but he'd explained to her that he'd had to train enormously and that, on top of it, most of a sniper's work was, in fact, intellectual: finding the best vantage point, making calculations based on shooting conditions, and so on. Cooking, on the other hand, demanded a meticulousness that he lacked. Even then, he told her that the worst was his propensity for hyper fixation, which plunged him into trances where the sound of the timer failed to reach him. At home, when he was sinking, it was Jack who came to shake him out of it. Here, Emily would be the one paying attention to this part of the operation. Yes, her guy had some flaws, but she couldn't care less. He was tall, handsome, thoughtful, cultured and clever, and she didn't dare think about his last quality. Not now.

“Your mother never taught you how to cook?” She asked, curious.

She had met Ada Hotchner on a few occasions – never positive – and had once had the opportunity to taste one of her dishes. She had enjoyed herself.

“Sure. Until my father told her it was pointless, because I'd have a woman to do it for me.”

“Charming... “ she hissed, relieved to know she wouldn't have to deal with a man like that and that his offspring had nothing to do with him.

“At the same time, he wasn't entirely wrong.”

She stiffened, stung by this retort.

“If I hadn't met Haley before starting my studies, I'd probably have died of starvation in my student apartment.”

He'd said it in a bantering tone, but she suspected he really meant it. Moreover, the mention of his ex-wife momentarily froze his smile. She had to find a way to revive the frivolous atmosphere that had suddenly become tarnished.

“You're doing pretty well, though,” she affirmed, giving him a swat on the buttocks since she couldn't use her starch-stained hands.

“Don't be too quick to claim victory; I've still got three patates left.”

She smiled when she heard him repeat the word, and blushed when he placed a kiss on the corner of her lips to thank her. She added clairvoyant, funny and affectionate to his list of qualities. And pessimistic to a fault, as the stage ended without a visit to the medicine cabinet.

“What should we do next?”

“Then, when the time comes, we put the stewpot on the heat with the cream and milk to bring the mixture to boil.”

“I hope you're not counting on me to keep it from overflowing,” he emphasized, aware of the risks involved in that cooking.

“Don’t worry. With the cream, the risk of it spilling over is practically nil,” she reassured him; glad to be able to teach him a thing or two.

He was older than her and, like their youngest colleague, possessed dizzying knowledge. But, unlike the same agent, he dispensed them with touching parsimony. Her lover dodged the limelight with all his might and was always very embarrassed to be the center of attention outside the professional context. But he had a wealth of wisdom and she'd already enjoyed it many times in the course of a conversation that was all in all harmless. Occupying this position in turn pleased her greatly, especially as he didn't mind in the least. The adage that you're never too old to learn fitted him like a glove.

“What’s the point of all this?”

“Once it starts to boil, we pour in the thinly sliced potatoes and leave them to cook for ten minutes.”

“Why?” he frowned, intrigued.

“So that they melt in your mouth after baking.”

It was the essential step in this recipe that made this gratin exquisite. However, this required slicing the main ingredient of the dish.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Thanks to... - she opened another drawer and grabbed her work tool - ... this!”

Aaron looked at the metal plate with a slanted blade at its center and raised an eyebrow.

“It's a mandolin, she revealed, repressing her urge to add a second cute insult to her reply. Very handy for making chips, by the way.”

She handed him the utensil – which he took with some caution – then brought over a glass bowl for him to drop his sliced potatoes into. As she saw him become statuesque in the presence of these two objects, she took them from him at the same time as she grabbed one of the tubers.

“I really have to show you everything,” she grumbled, falsely annoyed.

“Admit that it's far from displeasing you,” he whispered to her pavilion as he pressed himself against her.

His fingers slid down her arm, barely touching her skin. All her hair stood at attention on the spot and she naturally tilted her head when his lips landed on the nape of her neck. With her eyes closed, she nibbled her lower lip, the fire lit in her insides fanned by this contact. But they still had some work to do before they had any free time, so she shrugged her shoulder to encourage him to step aside.

“Now that you've got it all figured out, do it yourself.”

She put the mandolin back in his hand, escaped his embrace and approached the gas stove. The fire was still out under the pot, but she preferred to wait until her impromptu clerk had cut at least half the potatoes, as the milk and cream would come to the boil very quickly. In the meantime, she rubbed the platter with the whole garlic clove, and then lined the sides and bottom with a thin film of butter to prevent the mixture from sticking. To do this, she had to position herself near the island, opposite her apprentice. Regularly, with the same mutinous smile, their pupils had come to rest on each other, fleeing as soon as their adversary did the same. A slightly childish ploy, but one that served its purpose. Gradually, the excitement spread between the two opponents, and Emily took advantage of her partner's good progress to leave the arena and ignite the gas under the stewpot. Silence had fallen between them, a very appreciable tension reigning over their heads, and she could feel her guest's gaze upon her. He ogled her shamelessly and she delighted in being the center of his attention.

“That's it; I've finished "mandolining" the potatoes.”

“Already?” she gasped, turning around.

“Why so surprised? He replied with a smile. When I want to, I can go very fast.”

She was convinced that his sentence contained a hidden meaning, but simply nodded with interest before returning to the milky mixture, which emitted a distinctive sound. She salted a little, made several turns of the pepper mill, then reached out to the island to retrieve the last condiment. But her fingers met the void.

“Is that what you need?”

She turned her gaze to the man in the room, who was waving the nutmeg bottle with a smirk on his face. She went up to him.

“Give it to me.”

“I didn’t hear the magic word.”

“Aaron…”

“No, it’s not that.”

He could see her irises darkening rapidly. He imagined that the timing of the recipe was tight on this part, and her natural rigor would not accept failure. But he wanted her to come even closer to him. To feel her smell, her warmth, her skin against his. She was so beautiful, and he'd wanted her for so long, that it was hard for him to stay away from her. He'd dreamed so much of embracing her, that now that their feelings for each other had been revealed, he wanted nothing more. Her body was so desirable that he loved to lose himself in it, even though he'd already explored more of it than he'd ever hoped to.

“Please! It’s going to be overcooked!”

She tried to grab his hostage from his left hand, but he passed it to his right. She threw herself on the other side, and he passed it on his back. She tried to encircle him, but he raised his arms far above his head.

“Give it to me!” she snapped, as annoyed as he was amused.

“It's a win-win situation.”

She rolled her eyes when she realized what his objective was. She placed her lips on his for a few moments, gradually allowing herself to be drawn in despite herself by the taste of her lover. Then something landed on the top of her skull and the nutmeg fell in front of her nose as she stepped back. She had just the right reflex to catch it before it hit the ground. His partner seemed particularly pleased with his little trick.

“You don't deserve it,” she grumbled, pouring a little bit of powder into the cream.

“You shouldn't say things like that, you might regret it.”

“Really?” she asked, stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon.

Aaron's warm hand suddenly slipped between her thighs and pressed where it needed to, sending a wave of pleasure up her entire torso. Eyes closed, mouth ajar, she exhaled a trickle of shuddering air that betrayed her state of arousal. Her companion's torso was glued to her back, and it was obvious that he was not to be outdone. His other hand reached under her shirt to caress her breast, while his mouth lingered at the nape of her neck. Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he moved away from her, abandoning her to her palpitations. Desire pulsing in her lower belly, she took a few discreet breaths before facing him.

“Could you... pass me the potatoes? …Please.”

This time, he didn't negotiate, delighted to see her so unsettled. Although caught off guard, she'd liked what he'd done, and her inability to meet his gaze now spoke volumes about how she felt. She wanted more. Which was just as well, since so was he.

“Now that I've put the potatoes in, we turn the heat down to medium and let it cook,” she recited with a few tremors in her voice.

“Ten minutes, right?”

“That's right,” she added, putting on a brave face without leaving the stove.

“That gives us a bit of time,” he remarked, leaning against the island.

“Time for what?”

“You’ll see…”

Folding his index finger a few times, he encouraged her to come closer. She took the three steps that separated them and fell into his arms. They kissed energetically, consumed by their own thirst for each other. Emily soon found herself pressed up against the worktop again, a fact to which she soon paid no further attention. His partner had removed her apron, undone the two buttons on her shirt and, groping and kissing her bare chest, stoked the blaze that roared between her loins. His lips left the hills, however, and descended into the valley between. They then spread to her belly, navel and shorts. She flinched as the explorer's phalanges took hold of the garment's elastic band and pulled it towards her ankles. He kissed her clitoris – once, twice, three times – before administering the same treatment to her vulva. The young woman clutched the furniture's edges in search of a second wind. But it was a squeak she couldn't hold back when the giant's tongue invited itself between her thighs. He lapped up the nectar slowly, groping in the hollows, crisscrossing her ridges and wrapping himself around her bud, before setting off again in the opposite direction.

His victim's legs were filled with spasms and she felt them give way as the pleasure overtook her. Her torturer must have realized this as he lifted her off the ground and laid her horizontally, without really ceasing his lingual offensives. More at ease, he shifted into high gear, thrusting his appendage between her intimate lips while sucking on her erectile bud at regular intervals. The profiler clung to her benefactor's thick hair, ordering him to continue lavishing her with this kind of attention. Her heart was pounding at her temples, her breathing was getting shorter, her body temperature was peaking and, above all, orgasm was near. Very near. Out of breath, she asked for one more effort on his part, and he granted her request. Her back arched and her eyes bulged as ecstasy surged through her veins. Her thighs twitched, her mouth opened, her grip closed on that brown hair; and then she relaxed, exhaled a sigh of contentment and released her lover. The timer stridulated with a series of urgent beeps.

“That's what you call having a perfect sense of timing,” Aaron gargled as he helped her rest her feet on the ground.

She slapped him on the forehead, put on her shorts and stopped the timer.

“Pass me the platter, please, she ordered, pretending nothing had happened. And a skimmer too. It’s the…”

“I know what a skimmer is,” he interrupted, handing her exactly what she wanted.

Catching her due, her pupils lingered on the obvious dent that created a relief on her guest's apron. Their eyes then met and she placed the baked potatoes in the casserole dish. Before ending up lying on the island, she had turned on the oven to thermostat seven. The preheating light was still active. She took advantage of this delay to reduce the milk-cream mixture a little. Her partner opted to place a few kisses on her neck, nape, shoulder blade and shoulder. He had a hard-on behind her back, but wasn't necessarily trying to let her know – he maintained a certain distance between them, his hands only grazing her hips and belly. When the diode went out, she turned off the heat under the stewpot, poured the mixture into the platter – dividing it as evenly as possible between the slices – then put it in the oven.

“How long will it take?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Thirty minutes,” she revealed, adjusting the time.

“I’m fine with that.”

He immediately put his arms around her, carrying her to the bedroom whose door had been left open. Finally on the mattress, they kissed passionately, undressed with haste, caressed each other generously and merged with delight. The titan breathed a sigh of relief but held his ground. He was where he wanted to be, but didn't forget that he had certain duties towards his hostess. He began to move in and out of her with measured slowness, so that she wouldn't lose a crumb of the experience and he wouldn't flinch too soon. He also extended his movements as far as possible, without ever quite leaving her privacy. An unprecedented protocol that propelled Emily to the brink of apotheosis very quickly; intrusions and retreats accompanied by a series of delicious explosions vibrating her body.

Up until now, they'd tended to follow the usual pace of this kind of lovemaking – their hunger for each other sometimes driving them into frenzied, brief but intense acts – but this change of pace wasn't unpleasant, far from it. Dripping with sweat, her insides fizzing with sparks, she asked him to come back to her, to drill deep into her sex, on the spot. He complied and plunged into its narrowness up to the guard. She came. She came to the point of losing her voice, her hearing and her sense of space and time. She came so powerfully that she forgot until the day what it was. She came to the point of almost convulsive shaking. She also came when he died inside her with a rattle of satisfaction that tickled her ears.

They embraced, brushed against each other, kissed and then agreed to separate, but not without maintaining contact with their partner's skin. Lying on their backs, they stared at the ceiling, smiling beatifically. The ringing of the oven's bell jolted them out of this suspended moment and, partially dressed, they returned to the kitchen. Without saying a word, Aaron took charge of fetching plates, cutlery and glasses, while she took out the dish to let it rest for ten minutes. When the time was up, they sat down on the sofa to enjoy their three o'clock lunch, their taste buds savoring the soft, slightly sweet notes.

“Do you like it?” she worried as she watched him chew slowly.

“Delicious. We can do it again.”

“With or without the extras?” she simpered, nudging him with her foot.

He smiled, leaned over to kiss her and replied:

“Both.”

___

Ok, I had this silly idea to write a smut fic including a real recipe. So, if you follow all the steps right, you can cook a real gratin dauphinois. :D

And for people who are not fluent with the UK/GB measures (and because I'm not sure about the conversion), here is the list of ingredients:

1,2 kg of potatoes

1/2 l of cream

1/2 l of milk

and a oven at 220°C

Have fun! ^^

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #smut #fluff #seven days only #dirty mondays

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embossross · 2 years ago

Text

The Devotion of the Girl in the Mirror

Chapter 3 >> Chapter 4 >> Masterlist

✣ Pairing: Rindou x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI

✣ Series: part of the In the Belly of the Beast fic universe

✣ Chapter CW: cockwarming, rough blow jobs, orgasm denial, light asphyxiation, mention of weight gain treated as negative, clumsy assignation of Japanese pet names by English speaking author (I tried 😞😩)

✣ Story CWs: BDSM dob/sub relationship; sex (oral, ptv, pta, etc.); genre typical drug use, alcohol, smoking

✣ Synopsis: A story of two lonely people find love for better or worse. Or, dom!Rindou is sweet on his girl. Or, on paper, you and Rindou have nothing in common. But sometimes chemistry defies logic, and with every conversation, you find yourself more bewitched until all you see, smell, or hear is Rindou.

✣ Word Count: ~6k

The gamy smell of cooking beef floods the space under your tongue. Your eyes track your mother as she turns down the heat to a simmer and tosses a few extra slabs of beef into the pot. For once, you’re home to eat a proper dinner with your mother, and she’s made a special occasion of it, springing for pricey cuts of meat to make sukiyaki.

“The tofu is a nice color,” you comment, hoping to hurry along to the part where your mother serves you a heaping bowl. All you ate today between classes was a granola bar and banana.

“Give it another minute. I swear! You’ve never had any patience,” your mother scolds.

“Not where my stomach is involved,” you agree.

“Have you been eating well? I worry with you always running out the door.”

“I’ve been eating too well. I’m afraid to step on a scale at this rate. I’m not sure there’s a restaurant in Roppongi I haven’t tried at this point.

“Roppongi? Why are you spending so much time there?”

There is no conspiracy to keep your mother out of the loop when it comes to Rindou. Unlike most of your classmates, you always considered your mom more a friend than a strict parental figure. Days and nights alike took your mother out of the house to man cash registers, stock shelves, iron suits, and mind other families’ children as the opportunity presented itself; so, in her stead, you took on the mantel of de facto mother to your little sister, of homemaker for your older brother. Rare nights with your mother at home were often spent debriefing her on the goings on of the household, which created a uniquely female solidarity between you both, a kind of perverse equality that warped the boundaries of parent and child.

You told your mother about your first heart break, first kiss, and every other milestone, so when she asks about Roppongi, you remind her that you’ve been seeing someone and offer up a few details: what he does for work (export/import), where he lives (Roppongi), how you met (a lie about a coffee shop).

“I recognize that look in your eye,” your mother says. “You’re in love.”

“Oh, because I’ve been in love so many times before?” you scoff.

“Exactly because you haven’t been in love before. This look is different. New. But I’ve seen it on other women far too many times. Tell me, what is it about this boy that has you falling in love?”

You slurp your udon, stalling not because you need time to think of an answer but because the answer is too readily available.

All your great heroes are writers, yet you never reckoned yourself one until recently when you started a journal. Great, heaping emotional confessions splay out across the pages as you unburden yourself of the too-big-feelings you harbor for Rindou. His every advantage and grace is captured on those pages, and the only trouble is translating the truth into something less scandalous for your mother’s ears. Because you may be close, nearly friends, but you cannot tell your mother that when Rindou chokes you, in the space between thinking and emptiness, you could make yourself a home.

“Well, he’s always there for me. Even when he’s busy. I know I can rely on him when it’s important,” you say.

Translation: Rindou works without making it his life, placing it lower in the balance of his priorities than time with you. It is a privilege to commit to lovers or even family over work. Your mother’s chapped hands, reddened from nights doused in dish detergent remind you of her sacrifices every time she stirs the pot. Rindou, free from those worries and hardships, strikes you as a fairytale prince.

Only a few weeks ago, he dropped everything to come to your side in the middle of a workday.

You normally answer texts within a matter of minutes, so five weeks ago, when half an hour passed with Rindou’s message left on read, he called you. Brave face on, you tried to answer like nothing was wrong, but sniffling tears warped the words, and Rindou forced you to admit what had happened.

“It’s not a big deal. I just got a really bad mark on my last essay. The professor’s comments are…harsh, yeah, harsh…but I’m okay,” you blubbered.

“What an asshole. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come pick you up,” Rindou said.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Seriously, I’m just being a baby. It’s not like I failed the class. From here on out, I just need to get A’s on all my assignments,” and here you drew a shaky breath as all A’s would be a near miraculous feat, “to pass the class. You work hard, and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Forget that. Tell me where you are now.”

“You said you had an important meeting with investors –”

“Don’t’ be a brat,” Rindou warned, and your jaw clicked shut and stayed there. “You think I give a fuck about this meeting? Compared to you? Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to find the closest froyo or ice cream shop. Go there and drop me your location. Then, buy every flavor with every topping you can imagine wanting. I don’t care if there are twenty bowls, and you take one bite from each. Buy every kind you like. Once I’m there, I’ll cheer you up, baby, but until then, treat yourself on me.”

The day played out exactly as Rindou commanded. You nursed a stomachache that night as Rindou listened to you talk through your anxieties. He treated you so softly as you cried that you couldn’t remember what you were so worried about when morning dawned. He never once checked his phone for messages from work, all his attention on you.

“What else? He’s a great listener. He doesn’t talk as much as me, and before you say it, Mom, yes haha, who out there talks as much as me? You’re hilarious. But, um, he isn’t just not talking, but he’s really listening even when I don’t think he is,” you say.

No translation needed for this one.

Slumped in his seat, eyes hidden by his bangs, sometimes you worry you are talking to a wall when you tell Rindou about your day. The problem is especially painful over the phone, where you can’t search his body language for any clues, and his affirmative noises come few and far between.

You told yourself that he cared, but sometimes, when you were at your lowest, it was hard to believe.

All your lingering worries were relieved shortly after New Year’s, when you broke the seal on staying over at Rindou’s place and began joining him several times a week at his apartment for nights of long, dirty sex. Times not spent in bed together usually found Rindou playing video games or listening to music, while you did your homework in a pile of blankets on his heated floors.

You thought you knew Rindou’s apartment inside and out until one day you dropped an earring on the floor. You lazily tapped around with your feet, but when it didn’t turn up, you dropped to your belly to look under the bed. Your earring shone gold and unmistakable, but your greedy eyes glossed over it to latch onto a pile of books. There were only a couple books in the stack, but as browsing other people’s libraries was one of your greatest pleasures in life, you crawled out from under the bed with the humble bounty in tow.

The first book compiled the short stories of Edogawa Rampo. The paper cover looked uncracked. New book smell oozed off the pages when you pressed your nose against them. You traced the titles on the back, picking out a few favorites like ‘The Human Chair’ to read later.

Impressed as you already were by Rindou’s taste as you long enjoyed Rampo’s uncanny valley explorations of 20th century new Japan, you were equally surprised to find Kani by Kōno Taeko as the next book. You remembered mentioning her work to him a few months ago as something you hoped to make time for outside your studies because while you loved 19th century literature, you also enjoyed the modern classics when time allowed.

The next book after that weighed heavy in your hands, and when you saw the title, you dropped it hard on the floor. Hakkenden. Rindou was reading Hakkenden. A bookmark saved his spot on the nineteenth of ninety-eight chapters.

You had been working your way through the epic behemoth, one of the longest in world literature, for the better part of two years and often brought it up in conversation. Rindou would sit stone-faced and seemingly bored as you talked about the most recent chapter. Yet here was the book. And now that you thought about it, you’d mentioned Rampo to him as well.

“Why are you on the floor?” Rindou’s voice came from behind your shoulder.

“You’re reading the books I talk about!” you squealed, holding the massive tome up in accusation.

Rindou scratched the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, but not all of it. I wanted to read everything you mention, but you read too fast for me. I got through Kani pretty fast in between meetings, but Hakkenden slowed me down way more than I thought. You weren’t kidding about that thing.”

“But just because I mention it doesn’t mean you’re going to like it. I could make better recommendations tailored to your tastes,” you said.

“That’s not the point. I’m reading them so we can talk about them,” Rindou said.

Heat swelled in your chest, and you understood for the first time why ancient peoples believed the heart was the source of all love. You dropped your books to the floor and took Rindou’s hand.

“Rindou, baby, sit down on the bed. I’m going to suck your cock now.”

“Oh, are you?” Rindou scowled, but his voice was light and unoffended, just the hint of the thwarted dom peeking through.

“Yeah, just this once, shut up and let me,” you said.

And maybe he understood how your heart pulsed in your chest, or maybe he just wanted his dick sucked because Rindou didn’t argue. He had, after all, proven he knew how to listen.

Face hot at the memory of what happened next, you fan yourself, hoping your mother will think it’s from the heat of the sukiyaki. Your mother, for her part, nods wisely.

“Listening is good. You do like to fill a silence. But understanding is something else. Some men seem like good listeners but truthfully they just have nothing to say,” your mom says, sage advice stemming from a decade plus of caving to the glorified fuck boy masquerading as a man that was your father.

“No, I know,” you agree. “But I do think he understands. When I dated Sensyuu for a bit – remember him? The guy from the factory? The one with the goatee – well, I thought he was so experienced and smart because he was in this thirties, but I know now that he was an immature idiot. With Rindou…it feels like he’s so intuitive. Like there’s so much about the world and people that he understands and could teach me.”

“Wait, how old is this boy again?” your mother asks.

“Relax, Mama. He’s only twenty-eight,” you reassure her.

“And you’re turning twenty-two in a few weeks…I suppose that’s reasonable. About the same as your grandparents,” your mother allows.

Relieved by your mother’s approval, you take a meaty bite of beef, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. Rindou never fashioned himself as some great teacher with you the pupil. Yet, you do learn so much when you’re with him. Not facts or even opinions, but about yourself. From his example, you discover a confident way of moving through the world, unapologetic of making a scene or breaking some social more that no one could justify in the first place. He shows you how to have fun outside of books, to take risks. And, oh how deliciously he teaches you about the limits of your own body.

Fucking Rindou teaches you about the pleasure of anticipation. Obliterating and ossifying as an orgasm may be, you learn to relish the ascent to the pinnacle, the delights of the journey. Discover that stretching the moments leading to the fall, finding new ways to lengthen that coiling rope inside your tummy, not only intensifies the descent, it is the very point.

Thus, every moment you spend with Rindou’s hands on your skin becomes a kind of pre-climax, like snacking on sweet grapes before a swish of white wine.

Because you are always listening to him, for his words and the subtle language of the body. If he nudges you with a thigh, you leap to correct your position. To his word, you follow. Such ecstasy in obeyance. And in every moment that passes without his direction, you wait and enjoy the act of waiting.

One time, a work emergency popped up, a problem with customs at the shipyard holding up a barge of goods. The call came right as Rindou promised you could cum after an hour of teasing cruelty. Your body was bowstring tight, ready to fire, when cursing to himself, Rindou unwound from your body and set to work. It went without saying that you did not dare cum then.

You tried to regain his permission, petting his arm, thumbing at your own pussy, and crying to soften the coldest of hearts, but Rindou didn’t even discipline you for the brattiness, too focused on his work.

Annoyed when your attempts didn’t let up, Rindou gave you a task of your own, pushing your head into his lap, your throat swallowing up the full length of him, and keeping you still with a submission hold.

Now, you cried in earnest, not just because of your needy pussy but the ugly obstruction that blocked your throat. Intellectually, you recognized that you could breathe through your nose, but your body insisted it couldn’t, that you would die here, suffocated on his dick. And for the next half hour, as Rindou made phone call after phone call, that’s what you did. You choked and whined and cried until your tears mixed with the steady stream of drool that streamed past your overstretched lips and down his balls. The details of Rindou’s phone call went straight over your head as your mental faculties busied themselves with restraining your hands and feet, both of which wanted to kick and claw for survival.

Finally, Rindou hung up the phone. The work crisis handled.

Thrusting up, he managed to choke you on the bare centimeter of his dick not already buried in your wet mouth. A few bruising pumps, and then his cum rushed unimpeded down your throat. Thick and rich, he came with more spurts than he’d ever gifted you before, and your body quivered with it.

Only then did Rindou dip one finger down to your clit and tap. Tiny inconsequential nudges, yet your edged and desperate body answered that knock by throwing open the door of your orgasm. You came like your own personal rapture, sending you first to hell and then to paradise as your body spasmed uncontrollably. Then, Rindou reincarnated you with a kiss to the cheek, and you were whole once again, staring into those velvet eyes.

“Well, it sounds like young love,” your mother says, and you nearly choke on a mushroom as her voice rips you violently from torrid daydreams. “Just remember that no matter how much you love this boy, you should never let him push you into doing something you don’t want. If he threatens to leave, let him. Benefit from my mistakes. Don’t go repeating them. Don’t ever make yourself small for a man.”

These words are delivered blithely as your mother pokes at the simmering pot with a chopstick. Yet she touches her wrinkling neck as if on reflex. You remember once staring up at then supple and unmarred skin with the uncomplicated, admiring gaze of an infant or small child. You were young when you came to see your mother as a tragic heroine, a sympathetic one sure, but one doomed by her narrow choices or maybe by the lessons learnt from her own mother and her grandmother before that. Because there was no shepherding hand to guide her away from unloving men, no strident lessons woman-to-woman about the need for her own money, to never empty her pockets with the trust that some man would fill them. When other girls went through the stage where they became hypercritical of their mothers, picking at faults and laughing at the sad repetitions in their lives, you continued to look at her with that child’s loving eyes. You drink up the words of concern and advice as if she delivers the scripture.

You feel pride in your relationship with Rindou as you can put your mom at ease without telling a single lie.

“The best thing about him, Mama, is I know he isn’t treating me like some easy thing. He never makes me feel silly or inconsequential. He shows me how important I am through his actions, but not just that, he lets me set the tone of things, too. He doesn’t push against my boundaries or pigeonhole me in some box set aside for a girl. I know that he wants me to feel important and safe when I’m with him. And I do.”

A few nights ago, you hooked a calf over his while lying in bd. Half a dozen pillows stacked behind you supported your chest, so you wound your sweaty, just-released lower bodies together. The sex had been intense but not too rough, and he had let you cum, so your brain was half way to shutting down for a deep sleep when you turned to look at him speculatively.

“I think we should come up with pet names for each other.”

Rindou cracked one eye open from where he lounged in his own post-sex haze. “You want me to call you more pet names?”

“We should have ones just for us.”

“Here’s an idea. You can call me Sir, and I’ll call you slut, whore, cocksleeve…I’m tired but I promise to come up with some more in the morning,” Rindou yawned.

You poked him in the side, right below his ribs where his chest hair ended.

“A pet name we can use in public.”

“I’m more than happy to call you a slut in public.”

“A cute one! Like…I’m thinking I could call you…Tanuki-chan,” you said.

Just like that you felt the full weight of Rindou’s attention as he rolled onto his side to stare you down. Rindou exclusively operated on one of two modes: inscrutable stoicism or searing intensity. As he weighed his new nickname, his observation carried the weight of the universe.

“Tanuki-chan?”

“Yes, I thought it fit because of the dark circles under your eye and your two-toned hair. Plus, it’s just cute!” you explained.

Rindou sighed, “Fine, but if you call me Tanuki-chan instead of Sir while we’re fucking, I’ll belt you.”

“Oh, good to know,” you murmured, like you just might try it. Rindou cursed under his breath, rolling over to serve you his back. The thick trapezius muscles there flexed, and a stirring lust rose in you that shouldn’t have been possible so soon after you last took him inside you. “Don’t go to sleep! You have to give me a nickname, too!’

No response came and soon after, you heard his grumbling snores. Only a little piqued, you followed him into sleep.

The next morning, you scrubbed your toothbrush – a second bought just to live on the sink in Rindou’s apartment – against the overnight scum on your teeth, when Rindou entered the bathroom, wrapped two arms around your waist and whispered in your ear.

“Good morning, Mozu-Mozu.”

Peppermint fluoride slipped precariously down your throat as you struggle to respond through a mouth full of toothpaste. “Where’d that come from?”

“You wanted a pet name, right? Well, I thought about it all night. Since you made me a tanuki, I wanted to go with an animal for you, too, and I couldn’t stop thinking you would be a bird because I love waking up to that beautiful voice in my ear. So, what better than the hundred songs bird?” Rindou said.

You spit in the sink.

“You stayed up all night thinking about that?”

“I took my time with it. Wanted to choose the right one.”

True to his word, Rindou slips Mozu into your texts and softer moments now, caressing the word with his tongue like it’s something sinful and secret just for your ears. No man has ever taken you half as seriously.

Your mother has nothing to worry about. Nothing.

Bicycles meander past the shop fronts barely faster than the pedestrians who lazily stroll the street. Shopping in Ginza is intimidating on a student’s budget. The names of the high-end brands fall clumsily off your tongue. Even the Japanese ones taste like a different language.

Hair hastily thrown back with a tie and sneakers tattered from stomping the streets on many a rainy day, you know you stand out in the boutique lingerie shop. The women manning the front of the store appear airbrushed. Poreless and unfairly tall, they tower in watch at the front of the store like Cerberus guarding the gates of Hades.

Akane – one of your closest university friends – flings yet another bra onto the pile in your waiting arms. You asked Akane to join you, yes, but the plan was simply to make a return and then visit the bookstore, not play her personal shopper as she tries on a hundred bras she could never hope to afford.

The lingerie set in your bag consists of a sheer teddy, bite-sized thong, and bra with crisscrossing straps all in the most delicate crème colors. When you wear the outfit, you look like a virginal sacrifice, all contradictions and enticement. But, the bra digs into your chest and leaves ugly red marks in its wake, so you decided to return it.

Rindou has gifted you more than a dozen similarly priced and fine outfits at this point. The gifts make you nervous as you were taught to never trust a man who trades in love for money, but you do trust in Rindou’s eyes when he sees you in a chosen negligee or strip of leather. Trust that these gifts are a treat for him, turning you into a feast for the eyes, rather than an attempt to own you with his wealth.

“Would I look cute in this, you think?” Akane questions, holding up a corset top and matching panties.

“Anyone would look good in that. You’d shouldn’t try it on though. Better not to know how good you would have looked in it,” you say.

“I could spoil myself just this once,” Akane wheedles, like any underwear, no matter how sexy, could be worth a full week’s worth of wages.”

Set on leaving your friend to her bad decisions, you mindlessly scroll Twitter, liking any post that remotely catches your eye. The jangle of the bell announces new customers entering the store. You hope the gorgeous shop attendants might stop staring you down if there are other customers to assist.

“Hey, isn’t that Rindou? Rindou!” Akane calls out, bumping you in the side. “Wait, but who is that?”

Excitement and exasperation compete as you turn to follow Akane’s pointing finger, figuring if Rindou is in a lingerie shop, it is to buy you yet another unnecessary pantie set. He looks particularly debonair, dressed for the office, in a turquoise three-piece suit and matching vest. The color sets off the garish purple of his hair nicely. He looks like the kind of man who can afford to shop in stores like this.

So too does the woman at his side.

Both of them notice you at the same time, following the call of Akane’s voice in the quiet store. Rindou wears a neutral mask, revealing no particular care in running into you out and about on a Wednesday afternoon. The woman at his side, on the other hand, looks genuinely interested.

You scan her up and down. The graceful arc of her body drops to an ironed skirt and towering high heels, everything obviously designer or at least expensively made. She wears her hair in a chignon that would take you an hour to get right, which frames a delicate neck. Tasteful makeup on an already beautiful face completes her daunting impression.

Unsure what to think of Rindou’s appearance with such a beautiful, far more sophisticated woman, you wave. Rindou barely reacts causing your stomach to flip over. Twice.

“Oh, wow, she’s really pretty,” Akane whispers.

“Are you good to try on this stuff alone? I’m going to go return this,” you say, shoving the stack of hangers at your friend. She doesn’t argue at all, eyes glued to the other woman.

As you approach, Rindou whispers something in the other woman’s ear. You watch eagle-eyed at the way his mouth nears her skin, how his breath dislodges a loose tendril of hair. They don’t touch, but their bodies are too close as they commune. Then, the woman struts off to browse a section of the store you already know contains high-end fetish wear.

Rindou turns his attention to you only when the other woman leaves his side. His face is blank.

“Hey, I um, didn’t expect to run into you here,” you greet him. Normally, you would kiss his cheek, nuzzle into his neck, unable to stand any physical space after time apart, but now you keep your distance. Rindou doesn’t reach for you either.

“Yeah, you don’t normally shop here,” Rindou says, voice low. His eyes scan over your head like he’s looking for something, or maybe he’s just avoiding looking at you.

“I just came here to make a return. That set with the teddy doesn’t fit. But then, Akane insisted on shopping around, so I’m keeping her company until she’s ready to leave. I keep telling her she can’t afford this place, but you know Akane,” you explain.

“You’ll have to tell me how it turns out later,” Rindou says.

“Right, yeah, and you’ll have to tell me about your friend.”

You deserve awards for the even tone you manage as you circle the question, like it isn’t driving you crazy to wonder why your lover is in a lingerie shop with an attractive woman. You can feign casual; you’ve done it before with other men. Granted, you didn’t love those men like you love Rindou, but your muscle memory is good as you affect perfect nonchalance, hand on your hip and reassuring smile on your face.

Or, more likely, you radiate awkwardness, but at least that’s better than jealousy and suspicion.

“Not much to tell,” Rindou shrugs, and you wish he would stop speaking before the next words even leave his mouth. “She’s one of the subs I’ve done scene work with for the last few years. She moved to Kobe, but she’s back in town for a bit, so I promised to spoil her for the day.”

“Spoil her? What does that entail?”

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow. It’s rude to keep her waiting, and you should go back to Akane,” Rindou says, and the clear dismissal of what you’re feeling somehow hurts worse than the awful, fantastical images that dance through your mind: Rindou zipping this woman into a naughty maid’s outfit, Rindou spanking her in the dressing room, Rindou kissing her with those red lips that should be yours.

“Cool.”

As you return to Akane, who does not argue at all when you insist you leave immediately, return completely forgotten, you don’t feel remotely cool. Not. At. All.

Over winter break, you and your university friends drank shochu until you reached a spectacular level of drunkenness. You swore lifelong loyalty to one another, crying at how thankful you were that fate tied you together in the same major. Somehow, a dirty napkin became the site of an official friendship contract that included provisions for favors. Things like, a friend must assist in helping one of the others move apartments given a week’s notice, or a friend must always pick up a fellow friend from the airport. More importantly, it included a clause instituting that all prior commitments short of finals and family funerals must be dropped if an emergency friend meeting is called.

Now definitely constitutes an emergency.

Two hours after Rindou blows you off in Ginza, you snuggle up beside all your friends on the couch in Akane’s apartment, tipsy on wine coolers and completely losing your mind.

“I say you just break up with him. He’s no good for you,” Naoto says for the dozenth time since he’s arrived.

“You should have seen her! She was freaking gorgeous, like I’d have wanted to hang her picture on my wall as a kid gorgeous,” you moan.

“I disagree. You are ten times cuter,” Akane lies.

“Cute? Cute?”

You stuff your face into a throw pillow and scream. All your friends trade concerned glances. Unsure what to do, they settle on pushing another wine cooler your way. You guzzle until your throat burns on the acidic drink.

“I think we’re jumping to conclusions, and you should give him a chance to explain. He said he was spoiling his ex-girlfriend, and yes, that does sound like he meant to buy her underwear, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see her in it! Maybe she has blackmail material on him. Or, maybe they broke up because he sees her as a sister? You should wait for him to explain tomorrow,” one of your friends, Tsumugi, offers.

Himeka, another friend, scoffs uncharitably. “No man buys underwear for a woman unless he intends to see her in it. Let’s get real. He’s a dog. I can’t believe I liked that cheater! I gave him half my scone at brunch!”

You skipped over the background info about doms and subs when regaling your friends with the story. You told them instead that the other woman was an ex-girlfriend rather than a scene partner. Much like you skated around the truth of your relationship with Rindou all this time.

“I mean, it’s not technically cheating,” you admit ruefully. “We never said we were exclusive. In fact, we basically said the opposite when we first started dating. I just thought…it’s been almost six months! Six months of seeing him like five days a week. How does he even have time to see other people? I sure don’t!”

“He probably doesn’t! Like you said, when would he even find the time? He probably just met up with this woman because of nostalgia or pity, and he’s going to realize he made a mistake and come crawling back. For sure,” Tsumugi says.

“Then, why hasn’t he texted? He knows the impression he left on her. He should be blowing up her phone right now. Besides, husbands find ways to cheat on their wives all the time, and they live together,” Himeka, ever the pessimist, insists.

“Akane, what do you think?” you ask, turning big, pleading eyes towards the only witness of today’s incident.

“I mean…it doesn’t look…good,” Akane stutters, face beet red as she delivers the death knell to your heart. “But like you said, you aren’t official. So, if you have a problem with him seeing other people, you should communicate that. I wouldn’t trust any guy to stick to one woman if he’s not even asked to. For all he knows, you’ve been seeing all kinds of university guys behind his back, too. So, you should communicate with him, and see what he says.”

“I wouldn’t need a woman to ask,” Naoto mutters. As the only guy in the room, he is tasked with bearing the burden of men everywhere.

The tick tock of the wall clock in Akane’s kitchen sounds like a countdown to your personal misery. Rindou promised to call tomorrow, and the anticipation blurs into anxiety. Tomorrow may well be the end of your relationship, and you don’t think you could bear that. But in the same vein, Akane could be right, so you should wish time brought your reconciliation even sooner.

You bite your fingernails as you think through your options.

“What do we even know about this guy? He knows everything about you, but he keeps you at arm’s length from his life. You’ve never met his friends or work colleagues, except for his brother that one time. For all you know he could have a harem of women all over Tokyo. And, you have to admit, he looks fishy. The neck tattoo? The money? The hair? He isn’t some upstanding citizen,” Naoto says heatedly.

“See, that’s your problem, Naoto,” Tsumugi says. “You’re a police officer now. You can’t go around with these discriminatory attitudes assuming anyone who dares to dress like an individual is a bad guy. I honestly expected more from you.”

The two argue back and forth for a few minutes, but their words don’t reach you. A self-defense mechanism slides into place. It empties your brain, protects you from any thoughts that may churn your guts. The wine coolers are doing a good enough job of that already.

“Enough! Nobody cares,” Himeka lectures them before turning to you with solemn eyes. “If you talk to him tomorrow, and he says, yes, I am seeing other women, and I’m going to keep seeing other women. There’s nothing you can do about it. What are you going to do?”

You want to evade the question, but Himeka’s narrow eyes follow yours, and stop you from fading into nothingness. It’s a good question, which is what makes it so uniquely cruel.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to break up if he is. I mean, you were okay not being exclusive before,” Akane points out.

“Wouldn’t that make me, I don’t know, pathetic?”

“It would only make you pathetic if you let him sleep around with as many women as he wants while you wait for him to call like a good little housewife. I say go out and have some fun of your own. You are young and smart and beautiful, and guys are going to line up to take you out. So, why not let them? That way, you’re even,” Akane advises.

The idea of someone else’s touching your body with foreign hands makes you shudder. Yet, Rindou shows no signs of the same revulsion. He can stomach a woman’s hand wandering down his chest, tracing his thighs, palming his cock, and who knows what else? Maybe he even lets them sleep in his apartment, curled up like true lovers, like the two of you. The thought sours the sweet wine in your mouth.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I just…need to talk to him. Yeah, I’ll communicate with him, and I’m sure everything will just work itself out. No reason to worry.”

Looking around the circle of sympathetic faces, not a single one of your friends looks like they believe it. And neither do you.

A/N: So be honest guys...am I completely evil?

“In order to induce the process of decay, water is necessary. I think that, in the case of women, men are water.” – Natsuo Kirino, Grotesque

“Is it not because women are so trusting that they are constantly being deceived by men?” – Natsume Sōseki, Kokoro

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou haitani #rindou smut #rindou x reader smut

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tedexia · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3: Hûpiricuku -The Dawn Star.

Cornelia had overcome the initial adrenaline from what had happened in the last few hours and was now resting in the shade. Eli watched her slumped over the red blanket that had covered him for a long time.

The native considered that the slightly higher ground gave him the advantage, for now he had not seen too much movement except for a group of bustling people that he was sure had not noticed their presence in the distance.

The sun was beginning to warm the surface and they would have to stay in the shade until the heat subsided. She was strong, and he could go without sleep any longer if necessary, but as an expert tracker and hunter he knew he could not afford to be weak and sleepless.

The horses were grazing without too much trouble not too far from them, in a blind spot he deemed appropriate in case anyone passed nearby. The native turned his eyes to Cornelia who slept peacefully only inches away from him, completely trusting him to protect her life from any danger.

Cornelia's hair was spread in uneven parts on the blanket, a full braid bound most of the light strands while other strands fell across her face and brushed part of her cheeks. Eli brought his hand to the strands falling on her cheeks and brushed them away without waking her.

She is too trusting, too hopeful of good intentions. At least that's who she was a few weeks ago, and Eli knows that despite all the horror and pain, she's still exactly that.

Cornelia opened her eyes and slid her right hand up to Eli's right hand which was close to hers, the fingers entangled with ease squeezing gently.

- You should rest," she pointed out.

- We're not far enough away, and it's not dark enough," Eli pointed, looking into lazy blue eyes, "We'll ride for a few more hours after the sun goes down and sleep in a safe spot at night.

- Why am I sleeping then," she asked in a whisper.

- You need rest, it's been a long ride.

- Sleep with me.

Eli knew that many of the words she used to say confused him a little, the English was much more sentimental, while her mother tongue denoted actions. He knew she was referring to the simple act of lying down next to him and sleeping. The native however had too strong feelings for her, the kind that he considered died with his wife.

His face showed no particular emotion, while Cornelia had felt the weight of his words and her cheeks were tinged a rather tender red.

- I mean sleep next to me, I don't want anything to happen to you," she mentioned sitting up in the process.

- I think if you can survive with that crushing your body," Eli pointed to her body knowing she was wearing a corset, "I can go a few more hours without sleeping.

Cornelia let out an impulsive and spontaneous laugh, the kind Eli is starting to get used to receiving from her. The native drew a grimace very similar to a smile in kindness to her.

- I'll stay awake, with you," Cornelia announced, settling her back next to him, close enough for their hands to stay together.

Eli said nothing, just held her hand until she fell asleep against his shoulder and her hair began to tickle his neck.

....................

Eli didn't exclaim anything this time, there was no "hum" or grimace of approval. When Cornelia hit the moving hare with the arrow and up on horseback, he simply got off his horse and walked quietly over to pick up the dead hare.

- I guess it's my turn to bleed and skin it," Eli exclaimed, adjusting the hare's feet with a thin rope.

Cornelia smiled as she heard him say that, his expression was serious but not annoyed. He seemed almost proud to share the road and the hunt with her.

- When we have a house, I will prepare something that is better than the hare.

- Really?

- Yes.

Eli smiled and nodded, that sounded like a beautiful promise. But in his head the words of mata agua were still swirling.

"I guess that dream of yours was keeping you alive, but deep down you know you're not going to make it, and you're looking for something to replace it."

The direction they had to take was certain, the inaccurate were the dangers that would lie in wait for him. The native returned to his horse and after securing the hare, they resumed their journey. They still had a few hours of riding ahead of them until they found a safe place to spend the night.

.........................

Cornelia knew that putting out the fire was necessary tonight, so she crawled just a few inches to Eli's chest, lay down there without too much trouble and he extended his left arm for her to settle in next to him.

- The blanket will do for tonight," Eli mentioned, making sure she was warmly wrapped in the red blanket.

- I know," she affirmed, closing her eyes and bringing her left hand to Eli's right hand, fingers entwined and resting on his stomach. The left arm closed protectively around Cornelia's shoulder and she smiled faintly looking up at the stars.

The distant glow felt very close to Cornelia's heart tonight, there was no veil in her heart and the pain of ostracism did not bubble up inside her.

- Thank you, Eli," she whispered listening to the sound of one of the horses settling down not far from them to sleep.

He didn't answer but he knew he wasn't sleeping and like her he was looking up at the stars.

- Without you, I would have been killed before I started," Cornelia affirmed and felt his hand lightly squeeze her fingers.

- You don't have to thank me.

- I do.

- I think we were both saved.

Cornelia was silent and heard him make a guttural sound that she didn't know by definition what it meant.

- Will you tell my story when you get home?

- Will you tell mine when you get your land?

- There's no one there to tell," Eli mentioned and his fingers caressed Cornelia's shoulder.

- I'll be there with you, remember," she assured him and heard him make that satisfying sound she knew was approval.

- Good.

Eli pointed to the stars with his free hand and began to tell the story of how the Pawnee were created by the great Tirawa, or rather by the stars that the god had created. Cornelia asked many questions after Eli finished the story.

- So how did the Pawnee come from the morning star and the evening star," she asked and heard him gasp for air for a moment.

- That will be a story for another night, Cornelia.

She looked up at the stars and smiled.

- Good night, Eli.

- Get some rest, Cornelia.

She stirred less than other nights, but being so close Eli could hear her soft breathing.

He wanted to stay awake longer to feel every inch of her body clinging to him like that, it seemed incredible to him how she was inside his mind and his actions in a short time.

He felt like the dawn star, in love with something as far away as the evening star. But he would gladly travel all that distance and danger, to be with her.

Eli was the same way, he loves this beautiful woman and if he must wait, run or kill to protect her, he will.

As they both slept, surrendered and clinging to each other, the stars seemed to begin a soft and enveloping dance... expectant of the love of those two beings so hurt.

Remember, this fanfic is being translated by an app. Please excuse any translation errors.

#cornelia locke #eli whipp #eli x cornelia #the english 2022 #happy ending #fanfic

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edu-performance-blog · 1 year ago

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2050: A Multilingual World ? The Rise of Linguistic Diversity.

In 2050, the world could witness a major evolution, with the rise of linguistic diversity. While English is currently considered the dominant international language, the global linguistic landscape is changing significantly, with a growing recognition of the importance of regional and local languages. This transformation could have a profound impact on how people communicate, interact and perceive the world around them.

One of the main reasons for this rise in linguistic diversity is the rise of translation and communication technologies. Rapid advances in artificial intelligence have led to the development of more accurate and accessible instant translation systems. These tools allow individuals to easily communicate in their mother tongue, while being understood by interlocutors speaking other languages. This ease of communication transcends language barriers and encourages the use of regional and local languages.

In addition, movements for regional autonomy and cultural recognition have also contributed to the rise of linguistic diversity. People who have long been marginalized because of their languages have begun to claim their right to cultural and linguistic expression. Governments and international institutions have gradually become aware of this demand and have put in place policies to preserve and promote minority languages. This official recognition strengthened the cultural identity of many language groups and encouraged their daily use.

In this context, the notion of "dominant language" is losing its importance. While English continues to be a widely used language in international business and global communication, it is increasingly complemented by other languages that are gaining influence. Regional and local languages become essential tools for preserving traditions, strengthening cultural identity and interpersonal communication. Thus, instead of focusing solely on learning English, individuals are encouraged to embrace the richness of linguistic diversity and develop multilingual skills.

This rise in linguistic diversity also has economic and political implications. Companies and international organizations must adapt their communication strategies to address a multilingual audience. Governments must develop inclusive language policies to ensure equal opportunities and citizen participation for all. Education systems need to reform their curricula to promote local, regional and international language learning.

However, despite these positive developments, challenges remain. The preservation of endangered languages remains an important struggle. Some languages may still be marginalized by factors such as globalization and urbanization. It is essential to put in place concrete policies and measures to preserve linguistic diversity and avoid the irreversible loss of unique languages and cultures.

In conclusion, by 2050, the world could evolve towards a multilingual linguistic landscape, with increasing recognition of linguistic and cultural diversity. Technological advances, the growing demand for regional autonomy and the increased awareness of the importance of regional and local languages are all factors contributing to this transformation. However, to take full advantage of the benefits of this increase in linguistic diversity, it is essential to promote inclusive policies, invest in language education and online training to preserve endangered languages. Edu-Performance offers diversified and accessible educational resources, promoting better intercultural understanding on a global scale.

For more information, join us on our social networks and visit our websites, www.eduperformance.com, www.eduenligne.com

#education #edtech #business #elearning #formation #freedom #self development #motivation #mindset #eduperformance

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digital-lab-english-language-lab · 2 years ago

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Types of Communication Skills Lab English Language Lab

ESL lab is for ESL English i.e., for those whose mother tongue is other than English. The most essential component ESL English learning is ESL listening. So, ESL lab listening is given high importance. It deals with various English courses, English listening audio and English language studies.

Communication Skills Lab:

Many times it is also referred as English communication skills lab, English language communication skills lab. An English communication skills lab/ English language communication skills lab/ Communication skills lab develops among the students a habit of listening and speaking with accurate pronunciation. It includes English courses, English listening audio, English language studies and also English comprehension.

Advanced Communication Skills Lab:

If communication skills lab has some extra facilities like English language video i.e., English language learning videos, English language book etc. it can be considered as Advanced Communication skills lab. The students can use these facilities like English language video, English language books to improve English language levels.

Phonetics Lab:

The existence of Phonetics lab had been since 1988. It teaches pronunciation, tongue and lip movement for words which can impact the speaking skills. With the advancement of digital language learning system, English language learning videos came into existence and made learning phonetics even easier.

Multimedia English Language Lab:

Each student is given an individual console with a dedicated headset, they have one of the main advantages of practicing on their own with complete privacy in Multimedia English language lab. So they can do their pronunciation, listening, reading, writing & speaking comfortably and most importantly at their own learning pace. It is a part of digital language learning system. Digital language lab manufacturer improved teaching environment in the computer labs.

WIRELESS LANGUAGE LAB:

The latest innovation made in classroom English language lab activities/ English lab activities are the founding of Wireless language lab. It makes the classes more vivid and open, the classed won’t be restricted by the time and place.

With the advancement of technology, digital language lab manufacturers are making many innovations in English language lab activities/ English lab activities and resulting in improvement of English language levels and English language comprehension in learners.

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anisthasiazewicor · 2 years ago

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I look down at the book of magic and feel myself sweating buckets.

The devnagri script, pretty calligraphic black ink on clean white paper.

I know this language, have spoken this since I was born. Have been hearing this language from these people when they manipukated the world around them.

I also know how bad I am at reading it, and at pronouncing it. Years of moving from one place to another and pressures of having to learn english and german and the whole hate for hindi that came as a child who was both too lazy and too socialized by the lingering after effects of colonization.

There are images in my mind, exam sheets dripping red like blood, my mother exclaiming at it for having literature degrees in multiple languages and my grandfather shaking his head, smiling but unable to hide his disappointment at a grandchild who did not have his gifts for languages, where he spoke and wrote in 7 and i could not even do 2.

Hindi, I love it but I feel ashmed of myself for having ever been ashmed of it. Hindi, that which I cannot read as well as I used to be able to.

The crowd looks at me, I can feel their condescension, their sneers and smug looks.

This is my mother tongue.

Mine.

I take a deep breath and sound out the words slowly, quietly, to myself.

I did not bother starting from the first page and flipped to a random one in this heavy tome.

The words do not quite make sense the first time, before I realize I am not stressing the u and pronouncing the r and many such small details that used to piss my teacher off. I start again, remembering to be phonetic about them all and suddenly it all makes sense.

The V and the stressed a and the r and the big i and i feel a smile on my lips.

"Vayu ka agni me parivartan"

Eyes widen, mine with the others, theirs at seeing an foreigner perform a spell, and mine at the huge ass fireballs floating in front of me, coming out of nowhere.

I look at the book asgain as chatter starts up around me, too loud to concentre again.

I frown but then I wonder-

"Charcha roko"

All at once the people in the hall find themselves unable to speak.

I smile. Then I grin.

I have been hearing these people speak my language since I stepped in this world, finding and creating magic with it that took me 25 years to find.

But it is common ground enough.

I look up at the dias where the queen sits. I do not know if she has been effected by the spell for she states at me expressionless.

But I know that the negotiations to get my hands on the library to research and to get back to my world have just become a lot easier, if all I have to do is speak in Hindi and have the world bend to my whims?

I will take ruthless advantage of it.

You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue

#prompts #writing #mine #sorry if there are typos

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school-dekho · 1 month ago

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Why CBSE Schools in Ahmedabad Are Preferred by Parents

Choosing the right school for their children is one of the most important decisions parents make. In Ahmedabad, many parents prefer CBSE (Central Board of Secondary Education) schools for their children’s education. CBSE schools are known for providing a well-rounded, student-friendly curriculum and a focus on both academic and personal growth. In this article, School Dekho will explore why parents in Ahmedabad are increasingly choosing the best CBSE schools in Ahmedabad for their children’s education.

What Makes CBSE Schools Stand Out?

CBSE is one of the most widely recognized educational boards in India. It is trusted by parents, students, and educators for its standardized curriculum and student-centered approach. Here are some key reasons why CBSE schools are the top choice for many parents:

1. Standardized Curriculum Across India

One of the major reasons parents prefer CBSE schools is the standardized curriculum. The CBSE curriculum is the same across all its affiliated schools in India and abroad. This makes it easier for students to transition between schools, especially if families need to relocate.

In Ahmedabad, schools like Delhi Public School (DPS) and Udgam School for Children follow this curriculum, ensuring consistency in quality education. The curriculum’s uniformity allows students to be on the same page, no matter where they go.

2. Focus on Holistic Development

CBSE schools focus on the all-round development of students, not just academics. The curriculum promotes extracurricular activities such as sports, arts, music, and social responsibilities. Many of the best CBSE schools in Ahmedabad, such as Zebar School for Children and Anand Niketan School, emphasize both physical and mental well-being.

These schools offer opportunities for students to participate in various sports events, music competitions, and community service activities. This balanced approach helps children grow into well-rounded individuals.

3. Student-Centered Learning

The CBSE curriculum encourages a student-friendly approach to learning. It uses interactive methods, project-based learning, and practical applications to make lessons engaging. For example, science experiments, model-making, and group activities are common teaching techniques in CBSE schools.

CBSE also focuses on reducing rote learning and emphasizes understanding concepts. This helps students grasp topics more effectively and apply their knowledge in real-life situations. Schools like Mahatma Gandhi International School in Ahmedabad use these methods to make learning enjoyable.

4. CBSE Prepares Students for Competitive Exams

Another key reason parents prefer CBSE schools is that the curriculum is designed to prepare students for national-level competitive exams like the JEE (Joint Entrance Examination) and NEET (National Eligibility cum Entrance Test). These exams are based on the CBSE syllabus, which gives students an advantage when preparing for these tests.

Schools like Shanti Asiatic School in Ahmedabad offer coaching and guidance for these exams. With a strong foundation in subjects like math and science, students have better chances of performing well in competitive exams.

5. Emphasis on Languages

CBSE schools in Ahmedabad offer a diverse range of language options. In addition to English and Hindi, many CBSE schools also provide regional languages and even foreign languages as part of the curriculum. This ensures that students are not only proficient in their mother tongue but also have an opportunity to learn new languages, enhancing their communication skills.

For example, schools like DPS Ahmedabad provide language learning programs that include French, German, and Sanskrit. Language skills are essential for students' academic success and future opportunities.

6. Technologically Advanced Classrooms

Technology is an important part of modern education, and CBSE schools in Ahmedabad are quick to adopt it. Smart classrooms, computer labs, and digital learning tools are used to make lessons more interactive and engaging. Schools like Udgam School for Children and Ahmedabad International School integrate technology into their daily teaching methods.

By incorporating smart boards, e-learning modules, and interactive applications, CBSE schools ensure that students are prepared for the future digital world. This modern approach to learning makes it easier for students to understand complex concepts and stay updated with the latest trends.

7. Parent-Teacher Collaboration

One of the strengths of CBSE schools in Ahmedabad is the close collaboration between parents and teachers. Schools regularly organize parent-teacher meetings, workshops, and open houses to keep parents informed about their child’s progress.

In CBSE schools like Zebar School for Children, parents are encouraged to be part of their child’s learning journey. This open communication allows teachers and parents to work together to support the student’s academic and emotional growth.

8. Inclusive Education

CBSE schools in Ahmedabad are known for providing inclusive education, which means they cater to students from diverse backgrounds and with different learning needs. Many schools have special programs for students with learning disabilities or other challenges.

This inclusive environment helps all students feel valued and supported. For instance, schools like Anand Niketan School promote diversity and inclusion, making sure every child has the chance to succeed.

CBSE vs. Other Boards: Why Parents Prefer CBSE

Parents in Ahmedabad often choose CBSE schools over other educational boards because of the advantages CBSE offers. Here are some key comparisons:

State Boards: While state boards may offer a curriculum tailored to local needs, CBSE’s standardized approach prepares students for national and international opportunities. CBSE schools focus more on practical learning, which can be beneficial for students aiming for competitive exams.

ICSE (Indian Certificate of Secondary Education): ICSE schools are also popular, but the curriculum is considered more intensive. CBSE, on the other hand, provides a more balanced approach that combines academics with extracurriculars, making it more appealing to many parents.

International Boards: While international schools may offer global perspectives, they are often more expensive. CBSE schools, however, provide high-quality education at a more affordable cost, which is why they are preferred by a wide range of parents in Ahmedabad.

Conclusion

It’s clear why many parents in Ahmedabad prefer CBSE schools for their children’s education. The standardized curriculum, focus on holistic development, and preparation for competitive exams make CBSE schools the ideal choice for a well-rounded education. Additionally, the use of technology, emphasis on languages, and inclusive environment provide students with the tools they need to succeed in life.

If you’re looking for the top CBSE schools in Ahmedabad, School Dekho can guide you. We provide a comprehensive list of top CBSE schools that prioritize both academic excellence and personal growth. Make the right choice for your child’s future with a school that focuses on their all-round development.