#what if I wear my sheer nightgown. and were both boys
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an accidental midnight meeting
#what if I wear my sheer nightgown. and were both boys#my digital art#my ocs#friend oc#lark#izzy#dnd#tw suggestive
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For the gif and drabble, I was thinking maybe a Royal au? Where Bucky and the reader have an arranged marriage and they get to know each other after they've been married? Can Natasha also be the reader's best friend? Prince!Bucky is one of my favourites. Just something really fluffy
Lexi, thank you for participating in WorldOfAUs loves you 3000!
I had a lot of fun writing out your drabble and I hope you enjoy this royal! AU as much as i enjoyed writing it for you!
ENJOYED THIS WORK? ALL OTHER WORK CAN BE FOUND IN MY BIO ON MY MASTERLIST!
Bare feet touched cold wooden floors, a shiver rolling through your sheer nightgown covered body as you slowly moved the warm duvet from over your legs. Your feet stilled; breath caught in your throat as the man next to you stirred fingers barely brushing your backside as he turned to you, you glanced over your shoulder eyes wide as you took in his still sleeping form.
He was beautiful.
He was beautiful from the depth of his oceanic eyes, to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was beautiful from his generous opinions, to the touch of his hand upon your own as you walked the castles corridors in the dead of night. You loved the way his voice quickened with excitement when a new idea presented itself before the council, or when he was enjoying one of yours so much so that he lost himself for a moment and forgot the mask he was meant to wear in front of others.
What he is, what he was, is what is beautiful about him, and that beauty came from deep within.
You can’t help but to lean over, tender fingers tucking away the chestnut brown hair that threatens to conceal his face before your moving back, your legs pushing you up and off the warmth of the bed.
You go quietly, hands finding his finest silk robe to throw over you form, chills rolling through your body as you go on quiet feet to the awaiting French doors.
Your head is angled toward his still sleeping form as your fingers wrap around the ice-cold knobs, twisting ever so slowly as you watch with baited breath. Your eyes slip shut, teeth finding your lip as the knob clicks, hands pulling the doors open just as slow.
Your escape out onto the balcony comes much quicker, not wanting to alert your sleeping husband of your absence in the warmth of your shared bed.
Cool wind knocks into you as you move forward, hands bracing against the balcony, eyes already set out on the distance waiting. You don’t have to wait long as the sunrise brings you copper hues, golden light dribbling over the land like honey poured over your morning oatmeal. The leaves shimmered like a mirror flecked mosaic and the morning dew sparkled on the bejeweled grass. In a moment, your cast in crimson, rosy glow, your fingers moving through the air that grows brighter with each passing moment until it becomes a new bold day. Even with the beginnings of winter upon you, you feel the promise of a gentle spring.
“You know I'm beginning to think there’s not a day that passes us that I won’t find you here soaking in those first rays of light,” comes his sleep laced voice.
Your eyes meet the sparkling hues of blue, a small smile kissing your lips as you look back out to the land "it's beautiful, isn’t it?”
You can picture him pressed up against the doors, strong arms crossed over an even broader chest, “it is beautiful,” he murmurs, your eyes lock with his, “but the sunrise doesn’t quite compare to you.”
Warmth crawls up your neck settling into the apples of your cheeks, eyes averting his to set your sights back to the growing sunrise. A deep chuckle rises from his chest, and you sense him drawing close, his arms circling your form seconds later confirming your thoughts, “it's been a year since we wed, how do I still manage to make my queen get so flustered?”
The fluster settles, simmers as you let yourself lean into him, your hands covering his own as your head finds its place against his shoulder.
“You know I'm beginning to think there's not a day that passes us that you won’t find a reason to have me boost you’re already inflated ego my love,” you tease.
His chest rumbles beneath your back, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your head, “Is it a crime for a man as lucky as I to want to hear what his beloved really thinks of him?”
A smile pulls at your lips as you look up to the man behind you, his eyes already on yours waiting, “no, it isn’t,” you answer, “but to be fair when father announced that he would be giving my hand away to the son of the infamous late George Barnes, I - well I had my concerns, but you already knew that.”
Bucky grins against the side of you head, “to be fair,” he teases, “I’m sure everyone knew of the concerns you held petal, you weren’t exactly the welcoming committee when your father first brought us together.”
Embarrassment filled with regret floods you, soft laughter bubbling up your chest as you recall the first words you had ever spoken in front of your husband.
“I would rather marry the stable boy father!”
Your father turns to you red-faced and glaring, “Daughter that is no way to speak in front of our guests much less to your future king apologize at once!”
Your eyes met the stormy ocean grays, “I apologize for my preference of wedding our stable boy than the likes of a man like you, but you’re no king.”
Your father clambers to his feet voice booming as he looks down on you, “now that is quite enough,” he growls, “that is no way to speak to your future husband, you will apologize at once and the right way if you wish to continue to see outside of that damned room of yours!”
Your eyes turn to slits, hands pushing you from the pleated chair that was placed next your fathers throne, “it’s not like you let me outside of my corridors to begin with father,” you hiss, “and I’m sorry to disappoint but go ahead and lock me away hell I’ll throw the key for you, because I refuse to marry a man who carries the blood of innocents on his hands.”
“Has your view on me changed petal?”
You find yourself turning in his hold then, hands falling to his shoulders as you look up the man you’ve given your heart to.
“My only regret was letting the whispered words of others build a hate in my heart for a man who never existed,” you answer. Your hands brushes against his cheek then, fingers tucking those soft locks, “for a man who had lived in the shadow of his father.”
He turns his head lips pressing to the inside of your palm, “and to think it only took a year,” he murmurs against your skin, grin pressed there as his eyes meet yours.
A grin of your own mirrors his, “it was less than a year.”
His grin grows hand finding your waist as he pulls you closer, “what was that darling I don’t think I heard you right,” he teases.
“Insufferable,” you huff through a laugh, fingers curling around the base of his neck, “but if you must know,” you exasperate, “it took less than the year to let myself fall.”
Bucky whistles lowly, “it took you less than a year to fall for the likes of a man like me, who would of thought, surely not your stable boy.”
That draws laughter from both of you, your fingers curling the hair that lays on the nape of his neck, “there was never a stable boy, but there was Tasha, though I don’t think she could quite compare.”
His head finds yours, “you’ve gone sweet on me petal.”
Your fingers curl further bringing your husband closer your lips barely touching his, “to be fair we’ve both gone sweet haven’t we love?”
“You’re not wrong there darling say, why don’t let you let me show you just how sweet I am for you?”
Your lips mold to his, the world around you melting away except for the two of you standing in the the blush of scarlet sky, and the warmth of tangerine.
Though your marriage was was not written in the eyes of one another the first day the two of you met. The two of you still existed as if the universe had brought together your two souls that were seemingly already betrothed from the very first day.
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes au#royal!bucky#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#drabble requests#gif requests
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The Blood King and his Queen [11]
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Romance, Angst, Drama
Word count: 2.6K
Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?
A/N: Hello my loves! If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! And as always, I'd love to know your what you think since we did switch genres this chapter!
For everyone who congratulated me on my milestone and those who have sent in requests, A BIG THANK YOU! I will be working on those asap and let me tell you, I am sosososo excited to do them because you sent in some ANGSTY requests which i love love love! My heart broke reading some of them so I can't wait! Thank you so much again my love and happy reading! <3 Please don't hate me!
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Today was the big day. The day of the engagement party. The day you were going to be shown off as the Blood Prince’s bride-to-be and future queen of the Kingdom. You felt excited yet sick to your stomach at the same time. You’ve never attended these types of events as a servant before so you had no idea what to expect or how to even act. You couldn’t even imagine how the day was going to go.
You woke up, of course, an empty bed. Images of last nights events replayed in your mind, making your cheeks heat up. But you smiled. It was one of the happiest and most memorable times of your life. Could life get any better at this point?
You were quick to jump out of bed, in a rush to find Bakugou. Your feet were light and your chest was filled with love that you felt like you couldn’t spend another minute without him. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t realize that you were still in your rather revealing nightgown that exposed more skin than necessary. In the moment, that didn’t matter to you. The silky, white gown flowed behind you as you rushed to find the man of your dreams.
Bakugou was conversing with some of the boys, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. By now, he hadn’t seen you yet which was perfect because now you could surprise him.
“Katsuki!” you shouted his name. The moment he turned around, you were jumping right into his arms. Your arms were tightly secured around his neck and your nose buried in the crook of his neck, giving you all of his scent. The boys had to turn away, faces red, out of respect for your privacy, as well as they didn’t want to die in the hands of a jealous Blood Prince. The boys immediately looked up, pretending that something had caught their eye so it wasn’t as obvious. Oh, but was it so obvious.
Bakugou was startled to see you in his arms so early. But quickly became protective when he saw what you were wearing. Nothing but sheer fabric? Revealing places that only Bakugou has seen? Not on his watch. Bakugou was quick to cover you up with his fur cape but also took to aside so no one was watching.
He takes you to a secluded hallway, or what seemed like one since he shooed everyone away. He places his hands on his hips and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Why are you still in your nightgown?” he asks, annoyed. You give him a giddy smile while taking slow steps towards him. You place your fingers on his abdomen, slowly walking them up to tap his chest.
“I couldn’t wait to see you, my love,” you flirted in your best flirtatious voice possible. Bakugou couldn’t help himself. He pulled you in so your lips could meet. His kiss was so addicting, you wanted more of him. But like many good things, it was taken too fast for your liking. Bakugou had pulled away to rest your foreheads together, him breathless.
“You’re really tempting me,” he said in a raspy voice. “Should I take you right here, right now? For everyone to hear?” it was meant to be a threat but you giggled and one upped him.
“I’m all yours, your highness,” you say softly, getting closer to him all innocent like.
Bakugou didn’t really mean what he said. Did he want you right now? Absolutely. But it was all tease for fun and games. He wanted to rile you up as much as he can today so that later that night, that’s when they can have a lot of fun. Bakugou backs up and laughs at your pouting face. God, how he loved all your faces, all your expressions. You were so lively and expressive and beautiful. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“Later,” he promised. “You should be getting ready for the ball.”
“As should you, but I don’t see you all fancied up,” you argue. He nods his head and shoos you away by placing a hand on the dimples of your back.
“Yes, yes, I’m about to do that now. I’ll come find you when you’re ready?” you nod in excitement, not being able to wait for that moment. He gives you an affectionate look, teasing you with an eskimo kiss before leaving back to his men. You absolutely melted at his touch. Sigh, you were so in love, it was painful to watch.
The ball was only a couple hours away and you had just gotten finished dressing. Your servants had prepared a lovely ballgown for you that was breathtaking to look at. The color red was supposed to signify the power you were being married into. As well as to match with the Prince’s outfit but we will keep that on the downlow. The dress was embroidered with thousands of handstitched flowers in the waist to bust area, around the sleaves and a little bit more throughout the ends of the dress. Not only that, but you were bedazzled in large jewels: dangling earrings and a bold necklace to match with the red tiara sitting on your head. It was a glamorous and expensive look they were having you go for. Only appropriate for a princess, soon to be queen.
Your heart was going pitter patter when you saw yourself. You couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. You were going to be getting engaged to your love. There was a knock at the door and in comes Bakugou, looking all dashing and handsome.
You gasped at the way he looked. The normal Bakugou you would see would be wearing his usual: cape with no shirt underneath, a pair of washed out pants and his boots. But this Bakugou? It was like you were seeing a completely different person. He wore a suit like a Prince, red and gold to the fit. He even had a side pocket that contained a handkerchief. His hair was lazily slid back but it didn’t matter because he was still handsome in your eyes.
“I’m surprised. You’re actually wearing clothes for once,” you comment.
“Get a good look princess, because this is the only time you’ll get to see me like this,” he says. He comes to you, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips. He side eyes the girls in your room. That gave them the cue to leave. They bowed, quickly leaving the room to give you some alone time for now.
As soon as that door closes, Bakugou attacks your lips with harsh and hungry kisses. You hum into the kiss as your teeth clash against each other but he makes up for it by slipping his tongue in.
“Stop, not now,” you protest, trying to push him off but with lazy pushes of his shoulders.
“You’re just so pretty,” he responds, not stopping his actions. You start to giggle when he attacks your neck. He’s about to take off your chunky necklace but you whine.
“Katsuki!” you whine playfully.
“Yes, my love,” he says and your heart skips a beat hearing those words. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him one more time.
“Darling, you promised after the dance,” you reminded him.
“I said later. Now is later, right?” he tried to play it smooth but you weren’t buying it.
“Shouldn’t we head out? I feel guests should be arriving any second and we should greet them, no?”
“Fine. But I want to show you the ballroom first,” he insisted.
“Hm? Why? I can see it later,” you told him, not seeing what he was trying to do.
“It’s a surprise,” he said and he led you to the ballroom with closed eyes.
When you opened your eyes for the first time, everything was so pretty, you were in awe. The room was so spacious, enough room for hundreds of people to dance. There were extra chandeliers hanging with red ribbon draped over every light. Some tables were set up for seating and crimson flowers, the same shade as Bakugou’s eyes, decorated every corner, every table top, every space you could imagine. It was truly a sight to behold. You had seen the ballroom being built and put together but you had never seen the final piece like this. Bakugou comes up behind you, proudly, as you continue to admire the room.
“It’s all for you. Everythingis for you,” he said. You turn around to look him in the eyes and they were filled with admiration and love. Kirishima and the other soldiers were there, looking at how in love you both looked at each other. It warmed their hearts and put a smile on all their faces. Before you could grapple in each other’s face once again, Bakugou’s second oldest brother, Katashi, makes his entrance, also dressed for the occasion.
“Ah, if it isn’t the main characters for today,” Katashi spoke up, bowing in the direction of Bakugou. “Your highness.” He addresses the Prince in a sarcastic tone as he always does. But when he looks at you, he doesn’t say anything and brushes you to the side, like he didn’t acknowledge you at all. You felt awkward and tension rise in the air. Looking to the side, you could tell Bakugou was irritated.
“You will not disrespect your future queen like that,” Bakugou says.
“Forgive me, your highness.” He apologizes in a nasty, rude tone. “But however shall I call this… lady?”
“You will address her as, ‘Your Highness’”, he ordered. But Katashi doesn’t do so.
“I don’t think I should be addressing a mere servant with such high status,” he retaliates. And your stomach drops. You feel like your ears are deceiving you. How does he know? Was he just saying that to be disrespectful? Or does he actually know the truth? But how? You were protecting this secret so well, there’s no way he would have found out. Your heart rate was picking up the pace and your palms started to sweat. You had to focus on your breathing because if you didn’t, you would be having a full on panic attack and then your cover would be blown. While you were feeling all these rollercoaster of emotions, Bakugou was furious and grabbed his brother by the collar.
“What did you fucking say?” he asked through gritted teeth. It was like his brother was asking to be punched in the face and Bakugou would gladly give it to him. Yet, his brother didn’t look fazed at all. He just smirked.
“Oh, dear brother. You didn’t know? She is not the real princess,” he points out. And if on cue, the realprincess walks out from her hiding spot, revealing herself to everybody. Anybody who sees her could tell that she was a real princess. By the way she walked and presented herself, she was the real deal. Bakugou didn’t look impressed but you could see his eyes wavering, like he was confused. Because to him, you were the real princess. Why would you lie to him? And how did you come here instead of the real princess? It didn’t help that you two looked almost identical to each other. There were only a small differences he could make out because he stared at your face for a bit too long when you were sleeping.
“How do you know for sure that’s the real princess? What if you’re just lying to be an ass?” he challenged but his brother laughed at his ignorance.
“Oh, silly brother. If only you went to all those parties like Father suggested instead of tending to those poor souls, you would know that that woman next to you in an imposter, and your fiancée is standing right next to me. I could tell from one look that that woman was just a poor servant,” he spat at you, making you flinch at his harsh words.
“Well go on, princess. Don’t make me wait for the show,” Katashi gave the real princess the floor with his cocky self. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, looking down on you with all the hatred in her eyes.
“Bow,” she ordered. As if a spell had been cast upon you, you bowed until you were parallel with the ground.
“Your highness,” you greeted her. Shame. Shame was all you felt in that moment. Bakugou watched as you bowed down to this self-proclaimed princess and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Neither did anybody else. Because they were all watching. Kirishima. Sero. Kaminari. Mina. The other soldiers. The guards. The servants. They were all watching you get put into your place.
“You really thought you could get away with this. I trusted you to break off this engagement and now you’re here? Marrying him in my place? How did you not think you were going to get caught? Well how does it feel now? To be humiliated in front of all these people who think you are royalty. Only to be revealed as some lowlife peasant who serves, not to be served,” she hissed at you. Every word stung your heart because it was true. You were an imposter who thought you could get away with marrying an unattainable man you fell in love with.
Bakugou had heard enough. His eyes were dark and his heart was fueling with rage. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your wrist and painfully drags you away into a room. He slams the door in anger and shoves you up against the wall.
“Katsuki,” you wanted to explain but he punches the wall next to you, making you tense up.
“Don’t fucking put my name in your filthy mouth,” he spits at you. And your heart breaks. Bit by bit, until a dull pain was left in place of your heart. But you had to keep preparing yourself because you know he wasn’t done there. You looked down at the ground, feeling put in your place, back as a servant. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore.
“You lied to me,” he breathed heavy, trying to maintain his cool but it was so, so hard.
“I was going to tell you,” you choked, barely able to get that sense out. The lump in your throat hurt so bad that you don’t know how you were going to speak.
“When? Until we were already married and start a family? Until I’m on my death bed? When? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!” he shouted, repeatedly hitting the wall. You were sobbing at this point, but you tried your best to keep it all together. For your own sake.
“When were you going to tell me?” he whispered, broken. Tears ran endlessly from your eyes and you shook your head, not knowing the answer.
“Everything we had was a lie. Everything I told you, was from my heart. And you just kept lying, and lying, and lying,” he talked to himself, turning away from you so he could narrate your whole relationship in his head. But you reached out to him. Despite you being in the wrong, you didn’t want to see him go. It couldn’t end like this. You wanted to explain. If he just let you explain, maybe, maybe things can turn around.
“Your highness, I lov-” you began but as soon as Bakugou heard those words, he became furious once again. He grabbed a dagger that was secured in his holster and threw it at you effortlessly. The knife landed right beside your head, barely slicing your cheek. Had he thrown it any closer, you would have been dead. But Bakugou was too confused in his feelings that he missed on purpose to let you live.
“Don’t you dare say that to me. I want you out of my sight, peasant,” his words stung like venom. Tears continued to pour out and before you knew it, servants were harshly tugging at the elegant clothes on your body until only white under garments were worn. You were escorted out of the palace with Bakugou not even sparing you another glance.
A/N: :)
Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14@spicysherlock @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannaabbanana@i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04 @anime-for-live @maggiecc @cloudsgathering @backoftheletter @moshi-moshi-angie015
#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou romance#bakugou drama#bakugou angst#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bnha imagine#bakugou imagine#bnha art#bakugou#the blood king and his queen
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ishq sufiyana
pairing: steve rogers x desi!reader
summary: your weapon of choice is a blade. his is a shield. both were made to clash with one another.
warnings: mention of blood and violence (slight). tension, angsty-ish? the wrath and the dawn, arranged marriage vibes. enemies to lovers-ish.
author's note: this is my first thing lol pls be nice. this isn't a full story but just an idea i had in my head. i believe this is called a headcannon (?) also my second time posting bc tumblr drafts/editing is killing my vibe
you are royalty - raised in a palace made of white marble, and clear, blue waters all around - handcrafted clothing and magnificent jewels at your disposal.
and your beauty. talk of your beauty attracts suitors from the farthest ends of the earth, coming to prove whether that talk is just mere gossip.
it’s not.
but that's not what got steve's attention when he first laid his eyes on you. it was the sword in your hand. a talwar.
your movement mimicked the flow of the water surrounding your palace - a fight style disguised as delicate. but to the trained eye, steve's eyes, it was anything but. it was dangerous. you were dangerous.
and you made sure to let steve know that you were far from a damsel in distress, waiting stupidly for her knight in shining armor.
"i don't know you, nor do i care for you. as far as im concerned, you're just another candidate waiting for my rejection. and trust me, it's coming soon but i'll let you enjoy your time here for a couple more weeks.”
steve scoffs because of course you would have an attitude. you were a spoiled princess. a beautiful, fierce one whom he was beginning to respect, but he would never admit that to you. not anymore. your arrogance trumped your beauty.
"oh sweetheart, what makes you think i want you at all?"
you two continue to bicker and roll your eyes at each other and make snarky remarks when crossing paths inside the palace walls for the remainder of steve’s visit.
“what’s wrong, princess? too scared to go up against me?” he would tease, sitting in on your sparring practices.
“believe me, rogers. you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if i were up against you.”
so when your father offers your hand to the nuisance a few days prior to his departure, you’re dumbfounded.
“beta, you two will get along. trust me.”
“i will only agree if he can defeat me.” you both knew full well that no one has ever been able to.
with that, you and steve prepare for a fight. you with your sword and dagger. him with his shield. how pathetic.
you got a few good hits in, starting off strong - cutting through his suit, hitting him in the face with the hilt of your sword, blocking his punches - he really only chose a shield? out of the entire palace armory, he chose his stupid, little shield.
but all that inner shit-talk came to a full stop when he disarmed you in one swift motion. your sword was on the floor, as were you, with your hidden dagger pressed against your throat and steve on top of you. how did he find that?
his breath fanned over your face. “always know your enemy, princess.”
___________________________
as you sat in your chambers, heart racing for the wedding tomorrow morning, you looked over your mehndi (henna). it had gotten so dark.
“deeper the color becomes, deeper the love. and your groom’s love for you must be competing with the darkest parts of the ocean,” one of your ladies said to you.
yeah right.
you pull yourself out of your thoughts and make your way to the room of your unenthusiastic betrothed. you’re careful to not be seen by any palace guards or maids. visiting your soon-to-be-husband in the middle of the night? the rumors would spread like wildfire.
you knock on the door and hear a “come in.”
steve turns around in nothing but a pair of sleepwear bottoms. oh boy. at this point, you’ve become extremely aware of your own appearance. long brown hair flowing freely, a smaller nath (nose ring) than your usual daytime wear, an almost sheer nightgown, and small shawl that barely covered your upper body. steve’s breath hitches in his throat from across the room.
you look at the cuts and bruises healing from your spar a few days ago. but the satisfaction of those memories, of the times you got him, were interrupted by the sight of a much darker bruise running along his broad shoulder. then you see his face. more bruises. more cuts. and bowl of water and rag in his hand.
“what happened?” you rush over, concern overcoming you.
“nothing, nothing. don’t worry about it,” he tries to brush off, but you’re not having it. you grab his chin and direct his face towards your own to get a good look. busted lip, busted jaw, swollen cheek. full lips. chiseled face. gorgeous blue ey- snap out of it.
“well if you’re going to look like this for tomorrow morning, i’d like to know what the hell happened.”
“there was a boy running from a couple of bandits in the market. i saw and helped him. the bandits didn’t like that,” he laughs, “it was ten against one.”
“and you got out with only a few scratches here and there? you’d think the damage would be worse,” you say, trying to hide your respect and admiration.
“yeah, you’d think.” there were those eyes again, this time burning into your own.
you take the rag from his hand. “sit,” gesturing to the embroidered armchair.
you soak the piece of cloth in the bowl of water, wring it out, and begin to clean the wounds on his face. he winces when you get to his jaw.
“sorry.”
trying to get a better angle, you step in between his open legs and take a seat on his thigh. gently holding his face, so gentle he could barely feel it, you wipe away the dried blood.
steve’s eyes rake over your face. the talk was not mere gossip. beautiful.
he was so immersed in his thoughts of you that he did not notice you were done. but still sitting on his lap. his face in your hands. it was your turn to stare intently at him.
your noses almost touching, as you instinctively run your hand through his hair. he sighs in content and relaxes into your touch. you feel your heart skip a bit at the response.
“try not to take another beating while you’re here, rogers. or better yet, why don’t you learn a few tricks? your swordsmanship could be better” you joke, as you get up and walk away.
but he grabs your hand, getting up from the armchair, and slightly pulls you towards him.
“i recall winning every fight i’ve been in. or did you already forget how we got here in the first place?” his eyes held a playful look, as if letting you know that he was not challenging you this time. he was merely….joking, alongside with you.
a smile tugs at your lips as you pull your hand away. “yes, well you still need to work on your swordsmanship.”
“only if you’ll teach me, princess.”
#chris evans#chris evans imagine#chris evans headcanon#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x you#steve rodgers x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#marvel#marvel imagine#headcanon#steve rogers headcanon#bajirao mastani#bollywood#south asia#desi#enemies to lovers
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KW 2021: Tease
Day 6 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Tease!
I might have stuffed up the use of this word and its definition in context but shhhh it’s fine and this is cute.
Links: FF.net | AO3
Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 6. Tease (verb): gently pull or comb (tangled wool, hair, etc.) into separate strands. Aka the take on the “tease” prompt that no one (not even me) expected.
Word Count: 1.8K
It had been a tiring, tension-filled day.
The war ended five, maybe six months prior, and the four nations were still partaking in the grueling process of learning to work together after a century’s worth of fighting. Considering that a group of teenagers were the reason there was any hope of amity in the first place, it came as little surprise that most of the pressure to arrange and facilitate treaties and peace talks fell on the Gaang, much to their chagrin.
And so here they were, utterly exhausted after a long day of trying to convince the Earth King and Zuko that violence was, in fact, bad, and stressed out of their minds, aching for a distraction.
It certainly didn’t help that tonight, of all nights, Katara’s long, dark hair was refusing to cooperate despite her having just stepped out of the shower a mere 10 minutes past. No matter how many times she ran the whalebone comb through her thick locks, nothing seemed to help, and her patience was quickly dissipating.
“Spirits, Zuko and Kuei are going to drive me absolutely crazy, sweetie.” Aang ranted as he entered her room, closing the door shut behind him as he made wild gestures with his hands.
“They’re both so… stubborn! And self-righteous and it’s getting us nowhere!” he huffed in frustration. “I wish they could just- oh.”
The airbender immediately faltered, finally noticing the appearance, or rather the clothing, of his girlfriend seated in front of a square mirror, nightgown riding quite high up her thigh.
“Sorry,” he blushed, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at her to keep what little modesty they had left between them. “I didn’t know you had already showered and changed- I really should have knocked.”
Katara rolled her eyes, a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand: attempting to tame the lion’s mane she called her hair resting atop her head at that very moment.
“It’s fine, Aang,” she laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need to be embarrassed, really. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”
The waterbender snuck a quick glance at her boyfriend, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure he could get any redder if he tried. A tomato would have been jealous of the vibrant hue of Aang’s face, and he couldn’t stop staring at the floor, gaze entirely focused on the wooden boards beneath him.
The boy remained silent, and guilt began to fill Katara’s stomach.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she frowned, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can go change if you want-”
Aang instantly looked up from the ground, quick to clarify his thoughts. “No, sweetie. It’s not that! It’s just- you look absolutely beautiful, and I don’t want me subconsciously staring at you to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy around me.”
Katara’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, and she patted a spot on the edge of the mattress, beckoning for him to come sit near her before turning back and glaring at herself in the mirror.
“Believe me, sweetie, there is very little you can do to make me feel uncomfortable around you. Honestly, it’s a bit of a compliment knowing that’s how I seem in your eyes,” she said shyly.
The airbender grinned and walked up to her. Feeling a little emboldened, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chin barely reaching an inch above her shoulder.
“You could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he murmured as his stormy eyes met her cerulean ones through the mirror.
“Really?” she raised an eyebrow and gestured to the mess on her head. “Even with this bird’s nest?”
“Always,” Aang smiled earnestly. “Speaking of, though, do you need some help with that?”
“I appreciate the offer, Aang, but I’ve been trying for the last half hour now and you aren’t exactly the most experienced with hair.”
“Well, maybe a new perspective is just what you need.”
He gently pulled her back towards the mattress a few feet away from the dresser with the mirror and sat her down in front of him. Rolling her eyes, the waterbender handed him her comb, but he simply cast it aside, instead using his nimble fingers to work through the knots and tangles in her hair.
Katara was right- he did have minimal experience with hair, not having much of his own, but he often played with hers when they spent time together. He knew what relaxed her and what didn't, which gave him the perfect means to seize this opportunity and prove her wrong, while also, of course, helping the two unwind and spend some time with one another.
The waterbender had already been quite frustrated when she had started working through her hair, and her movements had reflected that. She was stressed and antsy, and she combed harshly and roughly, only compressing the knotted hair to the end of the strand and making it harder to get out. Between that and the day she had, she had been close to tears and Aang’s gentle touch was just what she needed.
Much of Aang’s stress had been alleviated when he had entered the room earlier in simply being able to see and embrace his girlfriend. Because of this, he was able to take his time and the change of pace was nice for the both of them.
He worked slowly and methodically, fingers lightly massaging the top of her scalp before moving down to dampen and separate her wavy tresses into individual strips of hair with the help of some waterbending. He took care to not tug too hard on any one strand, having heard many a horror story from Katara in the past with her unable to tolerate anyone else handling her sensitive locks. The airbender was determined to make it a pleasant experience for the both of them, and it was.
In fact, Katara had been mildly shocked by the sheer love and effort she felt Aang direct into detangling her hair. It was sweet seeing him put so much energy towards trying something new just to help her, and the tension in her mind that had been knotted up began to unravel as well.
“Halfway,” Aang whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts. His gaze was still intense and focused on her unruly strands as she sighed softly and leaned ever so slightly back into him.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she murmured back. She closed her eyes as Aang’s rhythmic yet feathery touches to her scalp soothed her and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror through her peripheral vision- her hair was already looking a lot better and far more tame than it had been 15 minutes ago.
“That’s alright, just have a little more faith in your amazing boyfriend next time, yeah?” he winked with a smile, hands moving the hair he had untangled to the front as he directed his concentration to the last section.
This section was by far going to be the hardest- most of the strands were embedded into a few large and messy knots creating quite a complex network. Nevertheless, Aang was up to the challenge. He began humming an old Air Nomad folk tune, one of the many they’d perform at Yangchen’s Festival, causing Katara to hum along with him as he spread apart the last few unruly waves of hair.
After finishing, he steadily ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, taking extra care to caress the nape of her neck and back of her head as she sighed happily, and gave it one last sweep with the whale-bone comb.
“All done,” he said, tucking a lock behind her ear when she turned around to face him.
The waterbender beamed before lightly pushing him down on the bed as they both sank into the mattress.
“I take it you enjoyed it?” Aang laughed, looking up at her.
“Very much so,” Katara responded. She then carefully angled herself so that she was lying pressed up against Aang’s side, head resting in the crook of his neck.
“It was pretty relaxing for me too,” Aang blushed. “You know I love playing with your hair and this just kinda took it to another level. I’d be happy to do it for you in the future if you ever find yourself fighting with that comb again, that is.”
“I’d like that, Aang. A lot,” she smiled shyly. “It was great to just… unwind. Have you there with me and just relax. I was basically about to cry when you came in and you just melted all my worries away with those magical hands of yours.”
The airbender chuckled, snaking his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. It’s getting late though, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Time for some rest?”
Katara wordlessly nodded, sighing and closing her eyes as Aang did the same and blew out the candles lighting up the room.
“Thank you for this, sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you too, Tara. Good night.”
The two were taken away into the dream realm, but an unspoken custom was crafted that night. It became a ritual, a way for both of them to calm down and escape the high stress levels of their everyday lives.
When Katara found her dad kissing Malina and it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her, Aang had snuck into her room that night and combed and plaited her hair until they drifted off into each other’s arms.
When Aang had confided in the waterbender about feeling anxious and insecure about becoming a new father after she had informed him of her pregnancy, Katara had shown up to the stables with a comb and some apples for Appa in tow. The two ended up assuaging each other’s concerns while leaning back against the fluffy bison, much to their attention-seeking flying lemur’s annoyance.
Whether they were stressing over not being able to find an old book from the Southern Water Tribe after moving to Air Temple Island or had just come home after a near-death experience with the most dangerous bloodbender in the world, one of the two would always sit the stressed one down and grab a comb.
It never became a chore or something they dreaded; it was almost a secret love language for the couple. It was a way of reminding each other that no matter what was going on in their lives, they would always find time for each other and help one another. It pulled Aang and Katara out of some of their lowest, darkest moments, and it only accentuated their highs.
Such a simple, pure act born out of nothing but love and a desire to help- it should’ve been insignificant, a one-time thing, but it became so much more. To Katara and Aang, it meant the world.
#kataang week#kataang week 2021#kataangtag#kw 2021#kataang#aang x katara#atla fanfiction#aang#katara#fluff#romance
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Something Wicked
part 4
masterlist
Hello my darlings! Here you go! Enjoy part four! We’re going to see how it works out bouncing between Jin and Yoongi’s stories, but please give me some grace between this and school, I might have to put on on hold. They’ll both get done eventually, but not quite as speedily as ADG. Thanks so much for reading!--- chaotic puff
Jin couldn’t have been happier. Granted he didn’t have his darling by his side, but he could be generous. She needed some time after the day before, and it allowed him the opportunity to swoop in and be her knight in shining armor. She was all alone now and so fragile. It was the perfect opportunity. She needed comfort, stability, and Jin was going to provide it. She would officially be his in no time. He’d already prepared the house for her.
He was thrumming with excitement. He would bring her flowers, take her to the ballet. He would woo her. She wouldn’t be able to resist his charm. No woman could, and now there were no obstacles in his way. Everything was perfect. Everything was going his way, until she stepped into his office.
He was thrilled to see her at first, thrilled that she’d chosen to come to him despite him giving her the day off, and then he took note of her appearance. Never once had he seen her in jeans, but there she was in jeans and a flowy top looking as casual as he had ever seen her. Even when he called for her assistance late at night, she came looking perfectly put together. This was new for him. Another point of notice was the dark circles that made themselves at home under her eyes. From the look of it, she hadn’t even tried to conceal them. It didn’t look like she was wearing any makeup at all, and her hair was pulled half back messily strands falling haphazardly into her face. All in all, she looked absolutely exhausted like she hadn’t slept at all, and she hadn’t.
“Are you alright, darling?” He asked rising from his desk to greet her. “You look ill. You should be at home resting.” He swooped in pressing a hand to her forehead that she pushed away gently giving him a stern but tired look.
“I’m fine.” There was no smile. She always smiled at him. “I actually came to give you this.” She turned from him to dig around in her bag to retrieve an envelope, one that Jin knew exactly what was in it. It was a fucking resignation. “I apologize, sajangnim, but I won’t be able to serve you any longer.” She held out the envelope bowing politely and waiting for him to take it.
He was silent for a long terrible moment before snatching it out of her hands and ripping it in two. “No.”
She straightened up looking at him quizzically. “No?”
“No.” He growled glaring down at her.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders determined to stand her ground. “I’m sorry, sir, but this isn’t your choice to make. I’m sorry for the sudden notice, but I cannot continue to work for you.”
The words were so calm, so clinical. It infuriated him. She wanted to leave him. After everything he’d done for her, she was just going to leave? He’d built her up from nothing, and she thought she could leave? This was not his darling. This was an ungrateful brat, and Jin hated brats.
“And if I choose not to accept your resignation?”
Of course when she became his, she would no longer work for him. Kim Seokjin’s woman would have no need to work, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that she was trying to leave on her own terms, and that simply wasn’t allowed, not when she belonged to him.
“Then I’ll take my leave and pay the penalty for breaking contract.” She responded chin held high though she had the drawn appearance of someone who was tottering on the brink of exhaustion. She looked small and weak, and Jin could only blame the boy for that. He was the reason for her pallor, for her exhaustion, for her defiance.
“You’re exhausted and shocked after yesterday, unsurprising for someone so delicate.” He ground out trying to keep his cool. “I’ll ignore this as a lapse of judgement caused by the stress of the last few days.”
Y/N was taken aback by that. He was brushing this off as what? The overreaction of a delicate demeanor? She made no attempt to hide how offended she was at the insinuation.
“Delicate? I do not make decisions based on exhaustion or shock. Min Seok was my fiancée,” she paused taking a breath. “Almost my fiancée. After what’s happened, I would find it inappropriate to continue working for you especially considering I’ll be hiring a lawyer to defend him.”
“What?” The question was breathed out in shock, rage barely in check. She wanted to defend the little bastard? She believed herself that in love with him? No, she was just confused. Jin would help her see reason.
“I don’t believe that he would embezzle from the company, and I’m going to stand by him. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” She bowed again, turning on her heel to leave, but Jin’s far larger hand encircled her wrist tugging her back making her stumble into his chest.
“Mr. Kim.” She scolded pulling herself away.
“I’m afraid I have some terrible news for you, darling.” He cooed the sympathy coating his voice was saccharine and completely offset by the gleeful twinkle in his eye. “Kim Min Seok is dead.”
She paused the entire world standing still for a moment. “What?” The question was barely even breathed out as she stared at him with wide eyes tears welling up in them. “No.” She shook her head backing away. “You’re lying.”
“No, darling. I’m not.” He sauntered over to his desk picking up the falsified file that had been prepared for an instance just like this. “He escaped police custody and died in the attempt to flee.” He held out the file to her. “I have the file the police brought over just this morning.”
He watched attentively as every bit of color drained from her face. “No…” She whimpered. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” Her hands went up clawing into her already messy hair as she tried to make sense of the news. “He can’t be!” She cried eyes wild as she began to hyperventilate.
“I’m so sorry, darling.” He wasn’t, but the pretense of providing comfort gave him the perfect opportunity to wrap his arms around her gently rubbing his large hands up and down her arms in what was supposed to be a calming gesture. It had the opposite affect though. His proximity. The smell of his cologne. The news. It was all so overwhelming. She felt sick, dizzy.
“He can’t be dead.” She whimpered tears flowing freely now. “He can’t be. He was… he was alive. I saw him. He was fine last night. I just saw him.”
Jin shushed her pulling her further into his arms, wrapping himself around her. “It’s alright.” He cooed. “You’re going to be alright.”
“NO!” She cried ripping herself away from him not wanting him near her, not wanting him touching her. “He’s not dead!”
This man, this man was the devil. How could he tell her so casually that Min Seok was dead? How could he tell her it was alright? What kind of heartless creature was he?
“Darling…” Jin approached her slowly, carefully, not liking the way she seemed to sway on her feet. “Darling, you need to rest.”
“No.” The word was barely a whisper now as her world crumbled around her. “No. He can’t be…he isn’t.”
Jin lunged forward as he watched the swaying grow worse. He was just in time to catch her as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to crumple. He gently lowered them both to the floor relishing the feeling of her tucked safely away in his arms. She was still drawn, looking completely wiped out, but she was safe in his arms. He moved a strand of hair from her face lovingly, cooing at how fragile she looked in his arms.
Eventually, he pulled out his phone calling for his driver. It was time to take her home. A hospital would have been more practical, but Jin wanted her safely at home. He could bring the doctor to her.
He scooped her up in his arms carrying her out of his office. It was a spectacle. The employees were all clamoring at the sight wanting to know if she was alright. He brushed them all citing exhaustion as the reason behind it all. She’d be well soon enough. Jin would make sure of that. His darling would have the best care, and she’d soon forget all about her suitor. She had Jin. What need would she have for anyone else?
Y/N came to in a horribly familiar room. This was not her home, nor was it the hospital despite the IV that was attached to her arm. This was Jin’s home. This was his bedroom. The panic did not set in slowly. It came all at once like an all-encompassing wave. The panic only worsened when she realized, these were not her clothes. She didn’t own anything this fine. She didn’t own nightgowns let alone long silk nightgowns. She preferred the same ratty old comfortable pajamas she had had for years.
She ripped the IV out of her arm uncaring about the pain or the blood. Her only focus was making it to the door and getting the hell out of there. She didn’t know why Jin had brought her there, but she didn’t want to find out. She ran through the penthouse stumbling down the stairs in her desperate dash for the door.
This wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She never came her of her own volition. It was too intimate. Not even Jin’s parade of women would go to his home, and it always made her skin crawl when the called her there.
It was an easy dash. She knew the way. She had been to Jin’s home many times before, but when she reached the door, she found something she was not so familiar with. There was a lock placed there that had never been there before. It was sleek and black, ominous. But still she tried the door even though she was unsure if it would open for her. It did not. She tugged at the handle trying her hardest to open it out of sheer force of will, but it was unyeilding. She tried the keypad as well, tapping in every combination she could think of, but every time, the keypad flashed red telling her she had failed.
“Please!” She shrieked banging on the door. “Please!” She continued to scream and plead banging against the unyielding wood. No one was there though.
Jin lived on a private floor. The elevator opened to a narrow hallway separating the penthouse from the rest of the building. Her only hope would be if someone was coming up to the penthouse and would hear her screams. It was unlikely though. Jin didn’t like anyone invading his space, his immaculate home, and there was no sign of the house keeper that made his home so immaculate. The most likely person to find her was Jin himself, and at this time, he was not someone she wanted to see.
The commotion had summoned him though. He stayed back watching indifferently as she screamed and cried trying to leave, but Jin had planned for that. She wouldn’t be able to get past the lock. He’d allow her out in time, but for now he needed to make her his sweet darling again, his sweet obedient darling. The boy had made her defiant, a brat. Jin wouldn’t put up with that, and it was safer to keep her inside away from harm while she grieved, while she adjusted. Jin would be everything she needed. She’d see that soon enough. She’d realize how lucky she was, how perfect they were together.
He watched her until she’d tired herself out slumped against the door crying, trembling and completely exhausted before he made a move.
“Oh darling,” he clucked sympathetically coming to crouch next to her crumpled form. “Look at you. You’ve exhausted yourself.” He tutted fussing over her and moving her hair away from her face even though she flinched back from him violently. “Now, now, darling. None of that.”
He scooped her up, ignoring her weak struggles. She couldn’t struggle against him really. She’d used what little energy she had trying to open a locked door. His poor stupid darling.
The doctor had confirmed that she was dehydrated and exhausted. That combined with the shock had been too much for her. She’d be fine after some rest and a good meal.
“The doctor didn’t want you up and about yet. And you’ve hurt yourself, my poor darling.” He fussed looking at the place where she’s ripped out the IV, stubborn girl. There was blood smeared against her arm. She hadn’t been gentle when she’d ripped it out. She’d caused herself more damage than needed.
He could have tied her down, prevented this, but it was better for her to know now that she wouldn’t be leaving him. He was the only one with the code to open the door, and they were too high up for her to consider something as foolhardy as jumping from the balcony. It also helped that she had a decided fear of heights. It was something he’d discovered when he’d brought her on her first international business trip with him. She’d been petrified the entire flight despite their luxurious seats. She wouldn’t be making any stupid decisions like that, and if she did? God help her. Jin would not put up with such disobedience.
“Let’s get you back to bed. Okay, darling?” He asked smiling down at her with a lovesick expression. Everything would be perfect now.
part 5
#bts#bts fic#yandere bts#bts seokjin#bts jin#kim seokjin#ceo seokjin#yandere seokjin#jin#seokjin x reader#jin x reader#yandere jin#yandere#ceo au#ceo#ceo jin#dark romance#fanfic#bts fanfic
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NSFW ALPHABET WEEK - day 4
➳ kyle o’reilly
have a request? check out the prompts list and follow the steps!
masterlist
***
A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Kyle loves to take care of you after sex. He'll cuddle you for hours, grab snacks for you, get drinks for you. Of course, you'll make sure he and his blood sugar level are okay.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
His favorite part of his body is his hands.
His favorite part of your body is your lips.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Kyle will cum inside of you or in your mouth, all over your face or breasts. He loves when you cum on his dick or on his mouth when he's eating you out.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Kyle loves when you're on top in bed, but he'll never tell you this.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
He's not that experienced but he does know what he's doing most of the time. Sometimes he'll take a while to find your spot but when he finds it, oh boy. He will not stop hitting it until you cum who knows how many times.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary. He also likes to pin your wrists down to the bed when in this position if he's feeling confident in himself.
He loves any face to face position. He likes to kiss you when you orgasm sometimes. Plus, it makes it easier for him to hold your hand when you're face to face.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Kyle can be both serious and humorous. He will crack jokes all the time. He won't crack jokes when he's in a more serious mood, which is rare. Jokes are a pretty usual thing during sex, and you don't mind.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He's well trimmed down there.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He'll hold you hand and tell you how much he loves you. He'll shower you in compliments and praises. Sometimes he'll even set the scene with candles or flowers for a birthday or anniversary.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Kyle tries not to jack off if he can help it, but it's hard for him when he's away from you for a while. It's even harder when you decide to be a tease and send him some pictures.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise kink.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In a bed or on a couch usually, but he's never against fucking you against a wall or in the shower either. Against a wall is usually when he's jealous, which is kinda rare.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you tease him, which is all the time. Whether that's flirting with him, touching him, or sending him sexy pictures of yourself. Sometimes you do it just for fun, but other times it's how you tell him you want sex.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Threesomes, he would never degrade you or do something that would hurt you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves when you put that pretty mouth to work. He also loves to eat you out. He has no preference on giving or receiving, but he's skillful at making you cum with his mouth.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He's always slow and sensual. He likes to be careful to make sure he doesn't hurt you. Usually you'll have to beg him just to speed up. "I'm not fragile" you'd always say, to which he'd laugh and speed up his movements.
Kyle is only fast and rough when he's angry or jealous. You'll see a more confident Kyle when he's angry or jealous because he wants to make sure you know you're his and only his.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Kyle prefers proper sex but he's never against a quickie or two a week, especially if it's been a while since he's been with you. Usually they're in his locker room or in the shower.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He's not really a risk taker, but sometimes he'll leave the door unlocked. Kyle's willing to experiment in bed if it's okay with you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He only goes for four or five rounds, but that's because he can make each round last a while. You'll also make him take breaks to make sire his blood sugar levels are okay.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He's against them. He doesn't like using them on you and he doesn't like when you use them. He likes it to be only him that pleasures you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Kyle does like to tease you, especially when he's wearing his wrestling gear. He knows how much you love seeing him in his gear, and he knows how horny it can make you if you are in the mood. He likes to kiss your neck or grab your ass to tease you.
But you, you love to tease Kyle. When he's away, you'll sext him and send him naughty pictures. You'll surprise him with new lingerie sets when he's home, giving him a nice strip tease or lap dance if you're really in the mood. You're also not afraid to just walk into the bedroom naked after a shower just to tease Kyle.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Kyle's more on the quieter side. He likes to kiss any part of your body while you have sex but he will let out an occasional moan or grunt. You're the complete opposite. You'll scream Kyle's name any chance you get.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You hadn't seen Kyle like this since his loss at Takeover 31. He was so sad, so angry, and so frustrated with himself that he still couldn't win that damn title. While Kyle was back in the showers, you told Adam and Roddy that you were going home so you can get something ready for Kyle
When you got home, you quickly changed out of your Undisputed Era t-shirt and jeans into a new nightgown that you bought a few days ago. It's white, short, and almost completely sheer. You wear a pair of lacy white panties beneath the nightgown.
The front door opens and you pull your hair down out of the ponytail. There are footsteps up the stairs and you hear a "Y/N?" come from the hallway.
"Bedroom," you call back, leaning seductively against one of the bedposts.
Kyle appears in the doorway and almost drops everything he's carrying when he sees you. "What's this for? I didn't win," he says, putting everything next to the door.
He approaches you and you say, "I'm not going to let you feel sorry for yourself. I'm going to show you that you don't need that stupid title to be a champion."
Your boyfriend looks down at you and says, "I kind of do need the title to be a champion."
You pout at him and say, "Kyle, let me have one of my supportive girlfriend moments please."
A laugh leaves his lips and he says, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby. Go on.”
Deciding to be a tease, you say, "Well now the moments over." You go to walk away but Kyle grabs your wrist and pins you against the bedpost you were just leaning against.
"You don't get to dress like that and tease sex then walk away," Kyle almost growls.
You smirk and say, "There he is."
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Kyle's not too big and not too small. He's perfect for you.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
About average, but he's he's needy or jealous then it's really high.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Kyle likes to make sure you fall asleep before he does. He'll spoon you from behind as you doze off in his arms before burying his face in your neck and falling asleep himself.
#kyle o’reilly imagine#kyle o’reilly headcanons#kyle o’reilly x reader#kyle o’reilly smut#wrestling imagine#wrestling headcanons#wrestling smut#wwe imagine#wwe headcanons#wwe smut#nxt imagine#nxt headcanons#nxt smut#imagines#imagine#headcanons#headcanon#nswf imagine#smut#smut headcanons
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When the Weight Comes Down - 5
Warnings: non-consent sex (series); some threats and mild aggression.
This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Series Synopsis: Your father’s a drunk, your mother a recluse, and you’re just another small town girl in Birch.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown
Note: Hey. So first, thank you too everyone who has been commenting on this and sending asks. I’m excited that you’re excited and it’s very awesome and encouraging. It always makes things a bit easier especially as I haven’t managed much writing this week but things will get better right?
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Chapter Five: Courage
Courage, my word It didn't come, it doesn't matter Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time
💀💀💀💀💀
Steve was as clueless in the shops as you, though a bit more confident. He asked for help from the employees but ended up opting for clothing you weren’t quite sure you liked. Short skirts, tight tops… You hadn’t been shopping outside a second-hand shop in, well, ever.
He paid as you hid your discomfort. It was nice to look at new stuff but it felt wrong to have him pay for it. He didn’t seem to mind however as he ushered you along the endless mall pathways.
You kept your head down as you neared a particular pink and black framed window. You were frightened as you passed the broad doorway and a woman in all black stopped you. You almost stumbled but Steve kept you on your feet.
“Excuse me, miss, we have a special promotion,” She stepped back and waved to a small wheel on a table. “Spin and win. Every spots a winner; five for twenty, half-off bra’s, buy one get one…”
“Not thank you,” You peeked past her to the lacy lingerie and blanched. “No I’m good.”
“Sure,” Steve said, “Go on. Spin.”
You took a breath. You really were starting to get annoyed by him. You wanted to roll your eyes but instead, you spun the wheel; five for twenty on panties. Great. She handed you the voucher and you thanked her. Steve was quick to go inside as you tarried behind.
“I don’t need any of this,” You kept your voice down as you followed.
“You don’t know what you need.”
He passed between the barely-clad mannequins and neared the drawered table of panties; none offered the same coverage as your high-waisted ones. Maybe you were a bit outdated but they all looked uncomfortable. He lifted a pair with no ass and held it up.
“Oh… no,” You uttered. “How about these?”
You held up some grey, sporty boy shorts. His brows knitted and he shook his head.
“Don’t you wanna look good for me, doll?”
You stared at him and set the panties back down. You crossed your arms and refused to look at any more.
“No,” You whispered.
He dropped the pair in his hands and turned to you suddenly. He leaned in as he lowered his voice. It was dangerous, angry.
“You gonna speak to me, you’re gonna talk so I can hear you,” He sneered. “And you’re gonna wear what I tell you.” He touched your chin and forced your head up. “Got it?”
“I don’t want any of this,” Your voice quavered. “I didn’t ask for it.”
“And I’m not asking you,” He hissed. “I’m not the asking type, you got me? I get what I want.”
“And what about…” Your voice trailed off and he squeezed your chin. “What about what I want?”
He smirked and shook his head. He let go of your chin and turned back to the table. He smacked your ass before he grabbed a pair of baby pink panties.
“You want me,” He said. “You just don’t get it, yet.”
You blinked and looked around. The sales attendant stood behind the desk and flipped through a glossy magazine. She glanced up and smiled at you and you quickly turned away. You slowly lifted the bags already in your hand and set them atop the piles of panties.
“I know what I want,” You let them go and spun on your heel.
You rushed between the tables of bras and panties as your heart raced. You stepped out into the bright lights of the main mall and turned to your left. You’d find the station and pay for a bus back to Birch; though that might not be for a couple hours.
You sped up the further you got from the lingerie store and found yourself in a full out run. You didn’t know where you were going and were soon dizzy from the maze of the mall. You turned a corner and collided with something; rather someone.
Steve held the bags as he glared down at you. He grabbed your arm before you could get away and dragged you down a hallway marked emergency exit. His grip was painful as he dropped the bags and pinned you against the wall.
“You are… something else. That courage just comes out of nowhere.” He growled. “Now, I admire your gall but I don’t appreciate it.”
“Leave me alone, please,” You begged.
“You’re mine, you got that? Let me tell you a little about how that works. I wear this badge and I say what’s mine and no one else touches it. Only me.” He kept his arm across your chest. “Birch is a small fucking town, doll, and you got no way out. We both know it. So why don’t you enjoy what little you’ll get outta the shit hole.”
You gaped at him and pulled on his arm. He didn’t budge. You gave up and shook your head helplessly.
“First, you’re gonna apologise,” He said. “Then we’re gonna go back to that store and finish our shopping. You can try on a few things for me while we’re at it.”
You searched his face and he slowly drew his arm back and stood straight. You hugged yourself as you pushed away from the way. He watched you expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” You said quietly and he blinked. You raised your voice and repeated yourself.
“Good,” He nodded. “Now, I don’t wanna worry your ma too much so let’s stop dragging our asses.”
💀
Back in the shop, Steve picked out five pairs of panties then wandered along a wall of frillier attire. You cringed as you followed him. What would your mother think if she knew you were here? He grabbed a silky nightgown, little longer than a shirt and felt the creamy fabric.
“This one,” He handed it to you and grabbed a sheer romper. “Mmm, black or red?”
“Black?” You said.
He gave you the red. He added a lacy set and strappy leather bodysuit. You struggled to balance them along with your bags of clothes. Resigned to his will, he had one of the women show you to the changing rooms. He sat on the bench amid the mirrored walls and tall stalls. He selected the silk piece and waited outside with the rest.
You pulled it on over your bra and panties. You couldn’t bear to look in the mirror and went to the door.
“It fits,” You called to him.
You heard a snicker and his boots. A tap on the door. “Open up, let me see.” He ordered.
The latch shook as you opened it. The moment it slid out of place he was pushing on the door. He slipped inside and shut the door behind him. You backed up until you were against the wall. He put his hands on his hips as he looked you over. He reached out and snapped your bra strap, visible beneath the lacy strap of the nightie.
“It would look better without that,” He said.
“I…” You pressed yourself to the wall as his fingers traced the line of your collar bone.
“Wear it tonight.” He stepped closer. He smelled of leather and something nicer. A pleasant woody scent. “You can send me a picture.”
“What?”
“You’ll figure it out, doll,” He leaned in and kissed you; as deep as before as he pushed against you. He kissed you until he was breathless and you were weak. “I… can’t wait.”
You nodded dumbly. He tickled your arm and hummed. His blue eyes were dark. You crossed your arms to shield yourself.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” He stayed close. “It’ll get easier… once I show you how to be a good girl.”
You were speechless. He backed away slowly and sighed. He pulled the door open behind him, his eyes clung to you until he was on the other side. When he closed it, you let out your breath and braced yourself against the wall. What had you gotten yourself into?
💀
You shoved everything in a single bag before cramming it in the saddlebags on the back of Steve’s bike. He was happy enough with seeing the creamy nightie that he didn’t bother you much more than a few touches and kisses on your way out.
You were utterly confused and terrified. It wasn’t as if you’d never talked to men before but most of those you encountered were customers; harmless and often elderly. Married, most times. They never gave you a second glance and you never tried to make them do so. Perhaps it was fear of falling into a trap like your mother or your innate shyness holding you back. It was better to have the what if than a definite no.
Now you had caught the attention of a very bad men. The very type of man your mother warned you against, as hypocritical as that was. You didn’t know how and you weren’t sure about his determination. You only knew, it wasn’t good.
You straddled the bike behind him, impatient to get home. You were shivering by the time you got to Birch. As promised, thankfully, he drove up to your house. Unfortunately, your mother, ever in her crumbling castle, appeared at the window. Your father was on the porch drinking, sitting on the old stained sofa.
You got off and quickly undid your helmet and then the saddle bag. You traded the former for the shopping bag and said a swift goodbye. Steve kept you from walking away as he pulled you back to kiss you. You let him, embarrassed.
“I’ll text,” He said.
“Okay,” You slowly backed away. “Um, I’ll try to answer. I’m still figuring it out.”
“Not that hard, doll,��� He said. “I’ll see you around.”
He let you go and idled there as he watched you near the porch. Your father tossed his can as you climbed up the steps and he belched.
“There’s the slut,” He yelled over and guffawed. “Always knew it.”
You flinched but ignored him as you continued to the door. You were used to his venom, he never had much to say to you and when he did, it was never nice. You could tell by the pile of empties that he was already deep in his daily stupor.
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” He taunted as he rose. “Any daughter of mine ain’t gonna fuck those scum.”
Steve’s engine died. You froze and turned to your father as he staggered towards you. You backed up as he reached for you but he was stopped. Steve stepped between you and shoved him back. Your father fell on his ass.
“What the fuck?” He struggled to get back to his feet. “You get out of here, boy. Stop messing with my daughter.”
You mother opened the inside door and stood just behind the screen. She looked horrified.
“You want me gone, you make me,” Steve crossed his arms. “Never had any problem with me or mine drinking at our hole.”
“Steve, please, he’s just drunk,” You touched his arm. “He gets like this.”
“I don’t care. All the easier to knock him on his ass,” Steve snarled.
“Please,” You squeezed his arm. “Steve. For me.”
He looked at you slowly and his expression softened. He took a breath and turned back to your father.
“If I hear you’re bothering her,” Steve jabbed a finger in the air. “I’ll come back and I won’t go till you can’t say anything else.”
“Big words,” Your father slurred.
“Pa,” You brushed past Steve and stopped your father from getting closer. “Stop. He’ll hurt you.”
“I’ll drag him through the dirt.” Your father barked.
“You can barely stand,” You argued. “Shut up and he’ll go.”
Your father shrugged you away and backed up. He bent to grab another beer from the case and dropped onto his couch. He scoffed as he opened the can.
“Fucking slut living under my roof,” He grumbled.
“Say it again.” Steve pushed past you in an instant. “Call her it again.”
He lifted your father by the scruff of his shirt and knocked the beer from his hand. He wriggled in Steve’s grasp as your mother finally came through the screen door.
“Stop!” She shouted. “Please…. Sir. Please, that’s my husband.”
Steve glanced between your parents and sighed. He let your father fall back to the couch.
“Ma’am,” He nodded at your mother as he passed you.
He touched your arm as he slipped past you and tramped down the crooked steps. He went to his bike and climbed on.
“You just remember,” Steve called out as he shoved his key in. “There is no Birch without the club,”
#Steve Rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#au#series#limited series#when the weight comes down#biker!steve rogers#biker au#biker!au#mcu#marvel#captain america
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It’s Inky again here again with more Momma Pomma content
What could possibly be better than going on a beach date with the two people you love most in the world? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
That’s what Sooga thought to himself as he sat on the sandy beach, watching as Pomma and Kohga splashed around in the waves. Truly, he had no idea what he had done to deserve the hearts of the two most incredible people in the world. That didn’t stop him from trying to figure it out, though.
Before he became too lost within his own thoughts, both of his lovers suddenly called him over, requesting that he join them in the water. Never one to refuse, he got up from his spot on the shore and made his way over towards the two in the water.
While doing so, he had accidentally splashed Kohga, who splashed him back right away. Pomma, having been caught in Kohga’s splash, splashed him in return. Within mere seconds, all three were splashing one another, playing around like little kids, all while gentle waves rocked their bodies.
Just as Sooga was about to splash Kohga, he felt an ominous presence behind him. He tried to turn around, but it was too late, as a massive wave suddenly crashed into him, forcing his entire body down into the water.
He tried pushing himself back up to the surface, but was unable to. The sheer force of the water kept him pinned down, and left unable to breathe. He thought he would be able to hold his breath until he was able to breach the surface again, but soon enough, he felt himself getting lightheaded. That wasn’t good.
In a panic, he began thrashing around, so desperately trying to get the oxygen he so desperately needed, but he couldn’t.
GASP
Sooga heaved as he pulled his head out from….somewhere. That was strange. He was no longer at the beach. And he wasn’t wet at all. He had no idea what was going on, until his eyes managed to focus.
He was in bed, with both Pomma’s and Kohga’s arms around him. The ‘somewhere’ he had just yanked his head out from just so happened to be the latter’s large chest.
Ah. He had been suffocating in his girlfriend’s massive breasts. Of course.
He was about to settle back down and return to sleep, when he felt the soft body in front of him shift.
“Mm…Sooga…? What’s wrong….?”
Despite his recent near death experience, Sooga couldn’t help but swoon upon hearing Pomma’s voice. She always spoke in a soft tone, but hearing her when she had just woken up was magical.
“It’s nothing…Don’t worry about it….Go back to sleep…”
“Sooga I can feel your….yawn….boner….”
“You can huh- Oh!”
Sooga pulled himself away from Pomma and looked down. Sure enough, there was a sizable tent in his underwear. But why did he have one? He was just suffocating in Pomma’s brea- Oh. That’s why.
“Pomma, I am so-“
“If you were having an exciting dream and needed some help, you could’ve just said so.”
Pomma let out another soft yawn as she slowly sat up. She was wearing a short red nightgown that Sooga swore was partially see-through.
Sooga looked at her with wide eyes. She was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Both inside and out. He couldn’t help but stare.
As his eyes glazed over her soft features, he found himself lingering on her breasts. He shouldn’t be staring at them, especially because they were the cause of his poorly timed erection, but he couldn’t stop.
“You know that you’re allowed to touch, right?” Pomma grinned at him as she allowed one of the straps of her nightgown to fall down her shoulder. That was enough to do it for Sooga.
He grabbed her shoulders and carefully pushed her back down onto the bed before straddling her stomach. Then, without skipping a beat, he cupped his hands around her massive tits and began massaging them. They were so soft, as always. So big, holdable, and squishy. They were perfect.
Sooga had seen a couple lewd magazines containing women throughout the years, though it was never on purpose, and they always seemed to portray women with large, perky breasts that didn’t contain a single stretch mark. Pomma’s were nothing like that.
Yes, they were large, of course, but they were covered in stretch marks. Some might’ve found them ugly, but to Sooga, they were beautiful. She also had marks on her stomach, thighs, and rear end, and Sooga loved them just the same. Each mark was as special and unique as the woman who lay beneath him.
After spending a good couple of minutes admiring Pomma’s breasts, he pulled the front of her nightgown down, finally exposing them in their full glory. They were even more beautiful like this, as he could finally see her nipples. They were big, soft, and just looked perfect for sucking on. So of course he had to test his hypothesis.
He cupped his hand around Pomma’s right breast and lowered his head. He hesitated for a moment, his hot breath teasing her, until she finally spoke up.
“Don’t be shy, baby, go ahead and help yourself.”
Sooga didn’t need to be told twice, as he immediately wrapped his lips around her nipple and began to suck.
Pomma hummed softly and tangled her fingers in Sooga’s silky hair. She loved watching her precious baby boy get like this. Even though Sooga was the one who had woken up aroused, he was still focusing on pleasuring her. What an absolute sweetheart.
Sooga closed his eyes and purred in response to the fingers in his hair. He loved having his hair played with. Especially by a woman who was so soft, so loving, so gentle. It only motivated him to further pleasure her.
He carefully took her nipple between his teeth, making sure he wasn’t being too rough, then began slowly pulling away.
Meanwhile, he pinched Pomma’s other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Instead of tugging on it, as he was doing with his mouth, he slowly rubbed the sensitive bud between his fingers.
Pomma gasped in pleasure and tightened her grip on Sooga’s hair. “Good boy….Good boy, Sooga….Just like that….Mmm…”
He did as he was told, continuing to tug on one nipple while massaging the other. Beneath him, Pomma let out sighs of pleasure and breathy moans, her lips parted oh so sweetly.
Though after a good minute, she gently tugged on Sooga’s hair, signaling for him to stop, which he did immediately.
“You’re being such a good boy for me, Sooga. Such a good, good boy. You deserve a reward. Especially since you’ve been doing so much to please me, despite the fact you’ve been hard this whole time.”
She gave him a warm smile. A smile that made him feel more loved and valued than any words could. He didn’t need a reward. He would be perfectly content merely sucking on his girlfriend’s breasts until he fell back asleep. At least, that’s what he thought until he realized what his reward actually was.
Pomma had pulled up the front of her nightgown, exposing her bare, hairy pussy.
While Sooga himself much preferred to be well groomed in the nether regions, neither of his partners shared that preference. They both had massive bushes, but he never minded. In fact, he found it quite attractive.
Not even realizing that his mind had begun to wander, Sooga was snapped back to reality upon feeling the cool air of the bedroom against his hard cock. Pomma had pulled the front of his underwear down when he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Look at you….all hard and throbbing for me…” Pomma’s voice was almost whiny as she spoke, her fingertips gently brushing against the underside of Sooga’s shaft.
“Does my baby wanna fuck Mommy’s pussy?”
“Y….Yes….”
“Hm? Yes what, baby?
“I….I want to fuck your pussy, Mommy…”
“Atta boy~”
As Sooga readjusted himself into a better position, Pomma used two of her fingers to slowly rub her pussy. She was wet. Very wet. Having her breasts toyed with was a massive turn on for her.
Once Sooga was ready in his new position, Pomma moved her hand away and spread her legs open. He placed one hand firmly upon her waist and used the other to line himself up with her awaiting entrance. But before he began pushing in, he glanced up at her, just to double check that everything was okay.
“Go ahead, baby.”
Sooga didn’t have to be told twice, as he immediately began slowly pressing in. While he was carefully sliding himself in, Pomma wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a soft sigh. Sooga was a big boy. Very big. But she had taken him enough times that she didn’t need prep anymore.
Once he was about halfway in, Sooga stopped and looked down, wanting to make sure that Pomma wasn’t in any pain.
“You worry too much, baby. I’m okay. You can keep going.”
Sooga nodded, and once again began pushing himself in further.
“I can’t help but worry….I know that you aren’t weak by any means….but I’m still afraid of you getting hurt….especially by me….”
Pomma sighed softly and cupped a hand around Sooga’s cheek. “Hey….Hey….It’s okay. You’re not hurting me. If you were, I’d let you know. Right now, you’re doing just fine. I promise.”
That seemed to reassure Sooga, as soon enough, he bottomed out, balls deep in his girlfriend, who he couldn’t help but admire. The way her eyes had fallen half shut, the way her plush lips parted, the way her plentiful chest rose and fell with every breath. She was gorgeous. And he just had to let her know that.
“You’re so beautiful, Mommy…” He said as he began to slowly thrust. “More beautiful than any other woman I have ever seen…..Your body is just….It’s so good….It’s so soft…and full…”
Tears began to well up in his eyes as he spoke. He utterly adored the woman who lay beneath him.
“Mommy I love you so much…I never…I never thought that a woman could ever make me as weak and lovesick as you do….I would do anything for you….you’re so good…I love you….I love you….”
Unable to hold back, tears began rolling down Sooga’s flushed cheeks. Tears of love, joy, and admiration. It wasn’t the sexiest thing, but it was pure, raw emotion. And Pomma loved when Sooga showed her that.
“I love you too, baby. You’re such a strong, handsome, wonderful boyfriend. Now give Mommy a kiss.”
Sooga immediately did as he was told, pressing his slightly chapped lips against Pomma’s. And despite the fact Sooga was still slowly thrusting into her, their kiss was borderline chaste. Full of softness, rather than fiery passion.
A few moments passed, and Pomma slowly pulled away, a pleased smile playing across her lips as she began to speak
“Now, be a good boy and breed Mommy’s pussy~”
Those words lit a fire inside Sooga that not even the sun could compete with. After placing both hands on Pomma’s waist, he began thrusting into her at a speed that would make a pornstar jealous. His hips snapped against hers each time he buried himself deep within her pussy.
Meanwhile, Pomma tightened her hold around Sooga’s neck, squeezed her eyes shut, and moaned as she was plowed like a damn field. Sooga usually tried to be gentle with her, but when she brought up breeding, he turned almost primal. He did, however, save enough brain power to kiss all over her neck as he continued to thrust.
“You sound so good when you moan for me, Mommy….It drives me fucking crazy…..I’m going to breed your pussy so good….I swear….I’m gonna fill you with triplets….” Sooga muttered against her soft skin. All she could do was moan in response.
Sooga’s cock was throbbing inside of Pomma, and he could feel pressure in his abdomen begin to build.
“Fuck….I’m gonna cum….I’m gonna cum so deep inside of you….”
“Ah-! Let me see your face! Let me see your pretty face when you cum!”
Sooga, of course, did as he was told, and pulled away from Pomma’s neck, allowing her to see the honestly quite pathetic look on his face. His cheeks were bright red, his eyes were glossy, and he was drooling like a mutt. He was a hot mess. Pomma loved seeing him that way. And with just a few more thrusts, Sooga finally hit his peak.
“FUCK!!” Sooga cried as he came, balls deep inside of Pomma, pumping her full with his heavy load. All the while, he was in pure ecstasy, panting like a dog.
Once he had sufficiently emptied his balls inside of his girlfriend, he slowly pulled out, watching as his cum dripped out of her wet and creamy pussy. He wasn’t quite done yet, however, as he still had one thing he needed to do.
Without saying a word, Sooga used two of his fingers to roughly rub Pomma’s beautifully erect clit. Up and down, side to side, around in circles. Until Pomma came with a loud moan, squirting as Sooga continued to rub her through her orgasm.
Finally, the couple were satisfied. Thoroughly exhausted as well. Sooga flopped down next to Pomma and wrapped his arms around her before they both let out a loud sigh.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Soogie.”
“Are you two finally gonna go back to sleep now?”
“KOHGA?!”
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Clothes Headcanon Part 4
Here is part 4. It just got long so I put in a keep reading to make it easier to scroll.
Lingerie
Kelly likes clothes. He likes the way they can make him feel, and dressing nice makes him feel better about himself. He has been on the runway, and in photo shoots. The thing is sometimes Kelly doesn’t want to dress like a rap/rock star. Sometimes he wants to be really comfy, sometimes he likes to feel soft, pretty, and delicate, and sometimes he wants to be sexy, and beautiful, and the clothes that make him feel this way are oversized sweaters, fuzzy socks, lingerie, and other pieces of clothing that society says are for women. He likes how he looks in clothes, though he doesn’t let anyone else see him in them.
******
Kelly owned a lingerie chest before he started dating Em. It is a tall, narrow chest with five drawers and a jewelry box on top. He keeps it tucked to the side, out of the way. He has a few pairs of panties, some bralettes, a couple of babydoll tops, and a little bit of everything. He has never shown or told anyone about the chest before. Most see it and think it’s a jewelry box and nothing more.
Em stumbles upon it when looking around Kelly’s closet one day. They had ended their beef a while ago and were sort of dating. Kelly had been giving Em a tour of his house, when he got an important phone call. He told Em to make himself at home and feel free to explore.
Em had been looking around Kelly’s closet when he saw the tall, narrow chest. He opened the lid to see a few pieces of jewelry, nothing really stood out to him. Then he opened the first drawer, and inside were only two pairs of stockings, and a single garter belt. The first pair were black, fishnets with a thick band of lace at the top. The other pair was a set of delicate, white lace, with an intricate flower design; the top was scalloped, and edged with a silk ribbon, with a little bow on the side. Em gently put the stockings back in the drawer, and closed it before opening the next.
The second drawer wasn’t even half way full with maybe six pairs of panties. The first pair Em sees is a pair of black, silk, ruffled boy shorts. He grabs the pair of light blue panties next to them, and pulls them out for a better look. The front of them look pretty normal, just kind of sheer, then he turns them around to look at the back. The back was a mixture of lace and straps. Two straps came from each side and were connected to the lace in the center. The lower part of the ass was all blue lace that tapered up ending when it met the top strap that went around the waist. There was even a silk bow at the top where the lace met the top strap.
Looking at the panties made Em mad. How dare Colson keep his ex’s underwear, and in a special chest of drawers. How dare he keep his sex trophy’s in such an ostentatious place. He looked down at the again and noticed that the panties were cut differently. Then it hit him. These things weren’t Kelly’s ex’s clothes, they were his. These panties were for men.
Em folded and placed the blue panties back drawer and closed it. He walked away deciding not to open another drawer. It did make him wonder who Kelly had worn those panties for. Would he wear them for him?
Em walked back over to the chest of drawers and decided to try a different drawer. Inside were three sets of silk sleep clothes. The first was a dusty pink camisole with matching shorts with some beige lace around the edge. The second was another camisole with matching shorts, except these were cotton with a sunflower pattern. The last was a black, babydoll, nightgown. Em lifts the nightgown out of the drawer by the straps. The bodice was silk, in a simple heart cut, with a light blue ribbon that runs under the chest, ending in a bow, with the sheer, lacey skirt, with ruffles on the hem. The fabric is so soft as he rubs it between his fingers. He gently puts the dress back where it belongs, and softly closes the drawer, imagining Kelly wearing the nightgown for him.
The next drawer has what looks like a corset. He picks it up, and it is a corset. A silky black corset, with red trim. There is another one under it, but before he can put the garment back, Kelly walks in. They both freeze, neither one knowing what to do, or say. Em noticies how red and embarrassed Kelly looks, and decides to break the silence. “Hey it’s okay. A lot of people have kinks, and this isn’t a weird one.”
“It’s not a sex thing, well mostly not a sex thing. I just like the way I look in them. I feel pretty. I grew kinda poor, and being able to wear nice clothes makes me feel good about myself. They also feel good wearing them; most of them are really soft, and silky.” Kelly explains.
Em understood. Growing up on a single parent income, seeing what others had, having to wear second hand clothing all the time, it not always fitting. He also knew Kelly was bullied a lot in school for being poor. Who is he to judge what the guy wants to wear now that he can afford nice stuff.
Em looks over to Kelly, seeing him shifting his weight from side to side. Em looks down at the corset in his hands, then back at Kelly, before opening his mouth. “They are very pretty.”
Kelly relaxes a little, but still looks pretty nervous, waiting for Em to say more. “So which … um ... which ones are your favorites, or like to wear?”
Kelly shows him his collection of sweaters, to the side of the chest; soft normal and oversized sweaters, cropped sweaters, or the semi see through loose knit sweater are all stacked neatly, on shelves. He pulls down a soft, white, oversized sweater that has long sleeves, and a cowl neck.
“This is one of my favorite sweaters.” Kelly says with a blush. It looked very soft, and comfy.
“Do you want to wear it? I wouldn’t mind seeing you in it. I’ll be back in your room.”
Kelly puts the sweater on, along with some fuzzy socks and joins Em in his bedroom, who is watching some sports game. Kelly is stiff and is sitting too far from Em, in his opinion. Em grabs Kelly’s arm, pulling him over, so Kelly will hopefully curl up against him. It works, and they have a nice evening together.
******
Em works hard to make Kelly comfortable wearing his pretty clothes around him. He even starts buying him pieces. He makes sure to complement Kelly when he wears something. Em loves soft comfy Kelly. It usually means that they are going to have a night in and do simple things like cuddle one the couch, watch movies, and lazily make-out. A cuddly Kelly is a happy Kelly. Em starts to join Kelly and wears his sweaters more. He even buys more because Kelly likes to wear his sometimes, and Em fucking loves seeing his boyfriend in hs sweaters. Kelly might be taller but Em was bigger, and bulkier. Over time Kelly gets really comfortable wearing pretty clothes around Em, and now he has a section in Em’s closet just for some of the special clothes that he and Em love; he has moved his lingerie chest into this section.
******
Kelly knows Em is really driven by what he sees, and he uses it to his advantage. He knows some of his pretty clothes turn Em on, like his nightgown, and pantes, but that his boyfriend respects that he wears them mostly to feel good, but sometimes Kelly wants to be sexy in them too.
Kelly comes back into the movie room, with his favorite sweater on, and some matching socks that disappeared under the hem of his sweater. He sits next to Em, curling into his side like he did on the first night he wore this sweater for his boyfriend. Em’s arm automatically wraps around Kelly’s waist. Kelly puts his head on Em’s shoulder, and nuzzles his neck. Em looks over, thinking how cute his boyfriend looks, and goes in for a kiss.
As their lazy makeout turns more heated, Kelly moves to straddle the older rappers lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Em has one hand on the back of his neck and the other hand rubbing up and down Kelly’s thigh. Once they break apart, breathing heavy, Em starts to make his way down Kelly’s neck. The cowl neck of the sweater gives Em access to his neck and collar bone, letting him bite and suck along the curve, making Kelly release breathy moans and gasps. The hand rubbing Kelly’s thigh moves up toward his ass. Em feels the lacey material and groans. Kelly was wearing panties for him.
“I think we should move this to the bedroom.” Kelly purrs into his ear.
Em shifts his hands to support Kelly’s weight better and stands up, with Kelly in his arms.
Kelly lets out a yelp at the abrupt movement, squeezing his arms tighter and wrapping his legs around Em. Em carries Kelly to the master bedroom and sits on the bed, with the blond sitting on his lap again.
“So what brought this on?” Em asks as he leans against the pillows groping Kelly’s ass through the sweater.
“I wanted to be pretty, but i’m also horny.” Kelly replies bluntly.
“So are you going to take off your pretty sweater, or do you need me to do it?”
Kelly is blushing; he knew Em would be into him wearing panties, but he didn’t realise the man would like them this much. He rises to his knees, grabs the hem of his sweater, and slowly pulls it up and over his head, revealing the lingerie he is wearing. He twists his torso so EM can see more of his outfit.
The panties are a pair of sheer, lacey, baby pink hipsters, with a trail of silk pink bows down the seam in the back, and dotted with pink and white rhinestones. They fit Kelly’s ass perfectly, hugging all the right curves. He can see some of Kelly’s ass peeking at the edges.
The coset starts under Kelly’s chest, and ends at the top of his panties. It was the same lacey baby pink fabric, with rhinestones at the bottom. The laces in the back were silky like the bows on his ass, and were pulled tight, with the ends tucked in. It wasn’t a shaping corset, more of a fashion statement.
Em is breathless, not only is Kelly gorgeous in them, but sexy as fuck. Em can’t remember the last time he was this hard.
Kelly sits there waiting for the older man to say something, shifting as more time passes, without Em saying anything. Doubt slowly creeping in.
The soft smile drops off Kelly’s face, thinking that maybe this was too much for Em. “Um … do you …. Is … is this okay?”
The question brings Em back to the present. Looking up at Kelly’s face, seeing the worry, Em knows he needs to say something, but for once his words have failed him. Instead, the older man surges forward, capturing Kelly’s lips. One hand tangling in the blonds hair, the other grabbing a lace covered ass check.
Shocked Kelly takes a moment to return the kiss, but when he does, the taller man wraps his arms around Em’s neck, pushing their bodies closer together.
******
Now that they spend more of their time at Em’s house, the lingerie chest is now located in Em’s closet, along with many of Kelly’s other clothes, normal and pretty.
Em loves Kelly’s pretty clothes, and loves buying them too. He regularly buys him new socks, stockings, sweaters. He has also taken to filling the chest with lingerie he himself has picked out for Kells, and jewelry to fill the top.
Most of the time Kelly still wears his pretty clothes for him but sometimes he wears them to have fun with Em.
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Could a retired sniper even become a loving mother after all she had seen and done?
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(Day 3 "Old Wounds" - Royai Week 2020)
A/N: Here's my entry for Day 3 of Royai Week for the prompt "Old Wounds". I didn't really know where this was all going until it suddenly became a comprehensive retelling of everything that happened post-canon. I know the fandom likes to headcanon that Roy and Riza have a little boy named Maes, but I really wanted to give them a child who had her own name and identity. Plus, Roy Mustang with a little girl is an absolute weakness of mine.
I also have him calling her Lizzie because I’m a sucker for Pride and Prejudice and can just imagine how sweetly he would say it (much like Darcy says ‘dearest, loveliest Elizabeth) *swoon*
I hope you enjoy!
~
"Mommy?"
Riza was awoken from her slumber by a small voice and a tugging hand. She blinked her eyes several times, trying to regain her bearings in the near darkness of the room. Glancing at the window over the form of her sleeping husband, she noticed that the moon was still high in the sky.
'It couldn't be more than midnight,' she thought to herself, rubbing a weary hand over her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision.
"Mommy?" It was then that she remembered the reason for her sudden wakefulness. The tiny voice that she knew and loved so well was trembling with an escalating fear, the tugging hand at the back of her nightgown pulling a bit more roughly than before. Sensing the desperation in her plea, Riza turned around to face the small child.
"Elizabeth?" She asked, her voice coarse with sleep. A pair of dark, swollen eyes peered up at her from over the edge of the bed. "What are you doing up?"
"Nightmare."
Riza could tell that her daughter's sleep had been less peaceful than normal, just by the way her wild, dark hair was pulling out of her braid – evidence of the tossing and turning she had done before running to her parent's room. In the dim light of the moon, she could also see the fresh tear marks that marred her daughter's cheeks. The sight broke Riza's heart.
"Come here," Her mother quietly beckoned, reaching her arms out towards the three-year-old. Elizabeth stood on her tip toes as warm hands were placed under her arms. Once the young girl was settled between both her parents, Riza wrapped her up in a warm embrace and nuzzled her face into her shoulder.
Elizabeth was not the type of child to seek out her parents' comfort in the middle of the night, so this type of behavior was incredibly unusual for her. Whatever she had dreamt about must have really frightened her to have her traversing the dark halls of their home in the middle of the night.
"Lizzie?"
Riza cringed at the sound of her husband's sleepy voice, knowing that he needed to be up early in the morning for a meeting with his generals. But a tiny pair of cold feet had made their way to the exposed expanse of his back, waking him from his deep slumber and alerting him to his sweet daughter's presence.
The woman watched as her husband turned over – eyes heavy with sleep but concern evident in their dark depths. At the sound of her father's voice, Elizabeth buried her face even deeper into her mother's neck, fighting back the tears that forced themselves forward at his gentle tone. Riza glanced over their daughter's head, meeting his questioning gaze with a concerned one of her own.
If you had told them ten years ago that they would be sequestered together in a lovely home, married, and snuggled up with their daughter – they would have laughed at the sheer idea of it. Two killers, as horrible as them, could never repent enough to ever deserve the happiness that most human beings sought. It just wouldn't be fair after how many lives they had taken that they would get the chance to be together.
But life was full of surprises.
The first surprise was the pardoning of them for their crimes in relation to Ishval. Though they argued with Grumman over his decision to sign the papers to forever have them excused for their actions on the frontline, they couldn't find it in themselves to argue with the Ishvalan Elders. The Elders had asked that they, and whoever else had taken part in the efforts to rebuild Ishval, be pardoned on the grounds that, they would continue to commit their time and energy to ensuring something like the Ishvalan Extermination campaign never happened again.
While both Riza and Roy did not believe they deserved to walk free after all they had done, they swore that for as long as they were in a place of power, the Ishvalans would not be persecuted again. Roy took it one step further and even began lobbying for laws against hate crimes that would bring an ample amount of punishment to anyone who participated in them. They still had not forgiven themselves for their actions – however, they were adamant in their resolve to provide Ishval with whatever help they needed. If they wanted them alive and working, then that's what they were going to do.
The second surprise was Grumman's dissolvent of the Anti-Fraternization Laws. After having sat in the Fuhrer's chair for nearly three years, the old coot had decided that he had had quite enough of the laws that dictated a soldier's personal life, and chose to abolish those along with a few others. The moment those laws had been dissolved, the entire military seemed to turn their eyes towards Mustang and Hawkeye – but the two of them had far too much to do than worry about dating and marriage. Besides, they quite liked the secret nature of their relationship.
The third surprise was Roy Mustang's decision to not run for Prime Minister after power had been shifted to Parliament. The general public was shocked that the young upstart, who at the time was still a fresh-faced thirty-five, had decided not to move along with the power. Even Riza could hardly believe his decision to pass up the opportunity – that was, until he explained it to her.
'I'd rather become Fuhrer and be able to control the military than become a politician,' Roy had shared with her one night over supper. 'I know I would be decent at it, but I would rather focus on ensuring that the military never fall back into corruption than sit in on meetings where all they talk about are laws. I need to be doing something. I need to be in the Fuhrer's chair to make sure that the military will never be used to cause so much destruction ever again.'
The fourth surprise was Grumman's campaign for Prime Minister and his ultimate winning of the title. It was the first democratic election that Amestris had held in over two hundred years, the voters all agreeing that if they had liked the old General as a Fuhrer, they would most likely like him as a Prime Minister. Roy couldn't have been happier with the turn of events, now knowing that someone he trusted would be in control of Parliament.
That only left one thing to be decided. Who was to be Fuhrer?
Having jumped the ranks easily after his participation in 'The Promised Day', it came as no surprise to anyone that the newly minted General Mustang would not hold on to that title for long. Upon his 'promotion' to Prime Minister, Grumman had announced Mustang as his desired predecessor. There were few naysayers who remarked that the title truly belonged to Olivier Armstrong – however, the majority of the military found no reason to argue with the decision to give Mustang the chair. Besides, Armstrong preferred her title of "Queen of the North" to Fuhrer and wouldn't have it any other way. Briggs was her's; Mustang could have Central.
It was only after Roy Mustang had officially become Fuhrer that the idea of marriage finally became a possibility. With Roy's climb to the top done, he saw no reason for Riza to continue to stand behind him, and voiced his desire to have her stand beside him instead. The First Lady of Amestris would have many responsibilities of her own and he couldn't imagine any other woman filling that role but her. It took a while for Riza to agree to their union – still having lingering doubts after all she had done in Ishval – however, eventually Roy was able to wear her down.
Their wedding had been a spectacle, much to both their displeasure. They would have been happy with just a small ceremony and a few friends – but given Mustang's position as Fuhrer, they had no other choice. The whole of the military was there along with Fullmetal and his rambunctious brood of children. Though Roy was too proud to say anything, Riza knew that he greatly appreciated Ed setting aside his business in Resembool and making the time to attend the ceremony. Even Al, in his Xingese inspired get up, was able to make it as well.
After the wedding was done – the real work begun.
Roy settled in nicely to his new position, taking to his fuhrership like a duck took to water. Riza also had an easy time falling into her new role upon her retirement from the military. She enjoyed the opportunity to participate in projects that would assist the lower income families across Amestris and found that she had a real passion for projects that involved children.
Speaking of children…
At the age of thirty-five, Riza had begun to assume that her and Roy would never be blessed with a child. Naturally, she was disappointed – but she couldn't really say she didn't understand the reasoning behind fate's cruel decision.
That was when – a month after her thirty-sixth birthday – the sickness began.
To say she was terrified was an understatement. She had spent so long assuming that her and Roy would never have a child, that she hadn't even begun to think about what to do if they did have one. Could a retired sniper even become a loving mother after all she had seen and done?
There was one thing she knew for sure though – and that was that Roy Mustang would make an excellent father.
From the moment he knew of their child, he immediately accepted the "dad" role. There was not a single doctor's appointment that Riza went to alone. Not one morning did she spend her time on the cold tile floor of their bathroom alone, Roy always there holding her hair and whispering loving words of comfort. He was so gentle, so concerned, and so excited – fully accepting the good fortune they had been given and thanking whoever may have resided above for the blessing.
As time went on, and Riza grew bigger, her anxiety developed into her own sort of excitement. She was still scared – oh was she scared – but after having felt the baby kick for the first time, she could no longer question whether she would be able love this child enough. With that one little movement, she had realized that she already loved this baby more than anything – and no past of her's was ever going to negatively affect the future of her child.
Mustang's men, still loyal to the man as ever, had placed bets on what the gender of the baby would be, despite Riza's annoyance in regards to the whole affair. Being the total men they were, they all bet that the child would be a boy.
'Powerful men like the Fuhrer have boys,' Breda had told her once, positive in his assumption. 'Your little kicker is going to be a boy – I'm sure of it."
The only person who dared bet against the 'boy theory' was Prime Minister Grumman himself. He said that he had no inclination one way or the other, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to bet against the majority.
'I like to take my chances.' He had commented when asked about the rationale behind his bet.
Little did the man know that he would be walking away from Central Regional Hospital about thirty-thousand cens richer the day that Riza went into labor.
It was a girl.
Though her and Roy had never spoken about what they believed their baby would be, they had been convinced by their men that this child just had to be a boy. But man, were they wrong.
Elizabeth Mustang entered the world as pink as the blanket they used to swaddle her. With a small nose and heart-shaped lips, she was definitely her mother's daughter – however, she took more after her father. Even at birth, she possessed a head full of thick black hair and eyes as dark as the night sky. She was beautiful. She was perfect.
The men had been disappointed at first, but once they saw the newborn's face, their hearts were no longer theirs's. Elizabeth was going to be one spoiled little girl.
It wasn't until everyone had cleared out, and Riza and Roy were left alone with their daughter, that a thought occurred to the very tired, new mother. As she watched her husband cradle Elizabeth in his arms, his body naturally swaying in an attempt to comfort her – she realized why men like Mustang and Hughes were blessed with daughters rather than sons.
It was because they needed them.
Already, Riza could sense a change in Roy. His eyes held a sparkle in them that she had only seen a few times in her life, and she knew exactly what it meant. He had a new purpose. He was going to be the best man he could be for this little girl and protect her from all the evils that lurked in the world. Roy was a man that needed purpose in his life – he was too driven to live without it – and in Elizabeth he found a lifelong purpose that he was only happy to fulfill.
The goofy grin that appeared on his face as Elizabeth gurgled and twitched, had tears forming in Riza's eyes. In that moment, he looked more like Hughes than he ever had before.
The look he gave his daughter on the day of her birth was the same one he was giving her now. It was a promise, a promise to protect her from any harm she could possibly imagine. Riza was brought back from her reverie by her husband's sweet voice, beckoning their daughter again.
"Lizzie, what's wrong?" He asked the girl gently, placing a hand on her small shoulder in a show of support. Riza could feel the child's tears against her neck, the small puffs of air escaping the girl's mouth in her panic causing her mother's heart to ache. She had never seen Elizabeth this worked up.
"Elizabeth?" Riza asked, pulling the girl back from her neck so that she could see her face. The small girl tried her hardest to latch on to her mother, not wanting to be moved from her spot, but she was fighting a losing battle. "Elizabeth, what has gotten into you?"
"Scary," The little girl mumbled, her bottom lip trembling. She gazed up at her mother with puffy, dark eyes. "Too scary. I couldn't – I couldn't – find you. Fire."
The child's words were near incoherent with her breathing as rapid as it was, but both Roy and Riza were able to decipher the last word she had mumbled. Fire?
"Lizzie," Roy stroked the messy black braid that lay haphazardly down his daughter's back. Both his touch and tone were gentle. "It was just a dream. There's no fire."
"Daddy hurt."
Roy's brow furrowed in confusion. His hand went back to its previous place on her shoulder and he turned her over to face him. Reluctantly, the girl disengaged from around her mother's neck and laid flat on her back.
"I'm not hurt." The man insisted, gently pushing a few unruly strands of hair back from her face. He even gave her a soft kiss on the forehead for good measure. Usually these soft ministrations would be enough to calm his daughter down – but tonight, it just set off another round of tears.
"Burn."
"Burn?" Roy asked, taken aback by the fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks. "What burn?"
At this point, Riza turned on her stomach to reach for the bedside lamp. With neither her husband or her sleeping, there was no point in leaving the room shrouded in darkness.
With the light now on, Roy had to squint to see the face of his small daughter. Although he had regained his sight many years ago, his eyes were still sensitive to light. Once he was able to blink away the pain from the unwanted intrusion, he focused back on the girl. Though the light seemed to calm her slightly, she was still pale as a ghost and crying.
"Burn." The young girl finally answered, lip wobbling as she attempted to speak clearly. "You're burn, Daddy. It hurts."
Ah, that explained it.
When Roy had put her to bed that night, he had foregone his shirt in favor of a light robe. It was summer and their home stayed warm in the evenings due to its position in relation to the sun. Though Elizabeth had seen him multiple times without a shirt, it was the first time she had taken notice of the large burn on his side.
Roy had thought nothing of it – just telling Elizabeth that it was a burn he had received in his earlier years with the military. Being the Flame Alchemist's daughter, Elizabeth knew about fire and what happens if you touch it. Knowing this, Roy had simply brushed off the situation, kissing her on the head and tucking her in for the night.
He never even thought to reassure Elizabeth that it no longer hurt (well, it still ached – but not bad).
"Lizzie," He murmured, moving closer to the toddler. "Daddy's burn doesn't hurt anymore. Everything's fine."
At these words, his daughter stopped mid-hiccup. With small fisted fingers, she rubbed at her eyes, before looking up at him in confirmation.
"No hurt?"
"Nope!" Roy told her, smiling widely before turning over on to his back, the sheet sliding down to his waist and exposing the old wound. "See? I can even touch it!"
Elizabeth watched as the man took two fingers and prodded the puckered skin of his side. She watched his face for any sign of pain, but there was none. From her side of the bed, Riza breathed a sigh of relief, believing this was confirmation enough to soothe the child after whatever nightmare her mind had managed to conjure up.
"Mommy's?"
Roy's brows furrowed in confusion at the question, his fingers pausing over his skin. "Mommy's what?"
"Burn. Mommy has burn."
So much for not allowing her past to affect her daughter's future.
Riza was normally so careful with her back, only ever exposing it on hot, summer nights when she opted to wear a nightdress instead of one of Roy's old shirts to bed. Elizabeth had never had reason to see it, her mother's blonde hair reaching just past her shoulders once again and covering up the small sliver of tattoo that resided at the base of her neck.
However, when the young girl had crept into their room that night, she must have seen the burn that lay on her mother's shoulder blade, and recognized it as the same wound she saw earlier on her father. Whatever nightmare she had – doused in fire, surely – must have only been made worse once she chose to seek comfort from her mother, only to be met with a back full of scars.
"My burns don't hurt, Elizabeth." Riza assured her – one hand coming up to gently play with the sweaty locks that lay on her forehead. Oh, how she loved this child. "Daddy and I are all better now."
"Really?" The toddler asked in a sweet voice, her tone hushed. The hopeful look in her eyes was enough to almost make Riza cry. Such a big heart, for such a small girl. How did two killers create this?
"Yes, really." Riza leaned in to kiss her cheek, taking her thumb and wiping away the last remnants of tears that lay on her pale skin. "Mommy and Daddy will never let the same thing happen to you. You're safe with us."
Roy regarded his daughter with a tired smile, nodding at his wife's words. "You have nothing to worry about, Lizzie. Old wounds are old wounds."
Though her toddler brain couldn't comprehend what he was saying in the last part – the young girl nodded, accepting her parents' reassurances. This had Riza breathing a sigh of relief, hopeful that they might be able to go back to sleep.
At that exact moment, Elizabeth's mouth opened in a yawn – the excitement of the night finally catching up to her. The sleepy expression on her face was too adorable for her parents to ignore, both looking at her fondly as she snuggled down into the pillow between them.
Riza had already turned over on to her stomach, arm reaching out to flick the switch of the lamp off – when she felt a tiny pair of warm, chapped lips graze over her back. Tilting her head back, she watched as Elizabeth repeated the gesture by placing a small kiss right over the burn mark on her father's belly.
As if she didn't realize how much of an affect her actions had on her parents, the small girl snuggled down in the blankets once more and was out like a light before her mother could even turn the lamp off.
Roy looked over at her, shock written across his features. She imagined she looked much the same.
Once they had gotten over their initial surprise, both settled back into bed, praying that sleep would come easy with the busy day they had ahead. After she turned the light off, Riza lay facing away from her husband and daughter. She didn't want either of them to see the silent tears that now streamed down her face.
If she had turned around, she would have noticed a slight telltale shake in Roy's shoulders, as well. It wasn't the first time she had thought about it that night, but she found herself asking the same question again.
How did two killers create this?
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The Home We Built Together, part 23
Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22
Writer’s note: Hi everyone! Thank you for all the comments and kudos! This is the first fic I've ever hit 40k word count on and it's such a huge accomplishment for me! All of you have been great at giving me the motivation to keep going and make this my longest fic ever :)
Also, mentioning that this part is NSFW-ish.
“You’re turn.”
Astrid’s brows disappeared into her bangs. “What?”
Her and Hiccup had worked with the Monstrous Nightmare the day before. It was hard to believe they were interacting with a dragon who only days before was trying to kill you in the training ring. She was astounded at how docile the fatal dragon could be, and even more astounded that a twig of a boy could tame such a beast with the offering of a gentle hand.
Hiccup swept an arm around. “Pick a dragon to train.”
“Oh no,” Astrid shook her head, not noticing the small step back she took, “You’re the dragon whisperer, not me.”
Hiccup grabbed her hand and pulled her to his side before she could inched away. “You can do it. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
Standing there with an axe in her grip and ready to fight a seething dragon to the death seemed far easier than standing in front of one to befriend it. She knew Hiccup wouldn’t let her back out of this and resolved to his request.
Astrid pondered her decision carefully. The Gronkle was cumbersome and slobbery. Not really her type. The Hideous Zippleback had two heads to train. Double trouble. That fact turned her away instantly. Which left the Deadly Nadder. Sharp. Swift. Primed. Proper. Now that Astrid thought about it, her and Nadders had a lot in common; something she could work with.
She grabbed a chicken leg from the feeding basket and approached the cage. “Let the Nadder loose.”
Hiccup gave her a side-look, nodding approvingly. “I can see it.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, figuring he’d put two and two together as well. Astrid raised her chin and stood tall as Hiccup opened the cage. If Hiccup could tame the beasts, she could too…right? Astrid pushed any doubt away.
The blue Nadder squawked threateningly at her, its wings spread wide. “It’s okay,” Astrid reassured, trying to keep her voice steady. The Nadder remained in its defensive position. “You hungry?” It sniffed the offered chicken leg from its spot and crowed sounds of interest.
“Here you go.” Astrid tossed the chicken towards the Nadder, and it caught the food with an eager snap. Once the food was eaten, it turned its head to the side to get a better look at Astrid.
Astrid took one small step after another towards the dragon, palm held out in front of her just as Hiccup instructed her to do. “I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you in the ring. I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”
For a split second, Astrid was hit by the surrealness of her current situation. She’d hurt this dragon more than once in the training ring. It had every right to rip her to pieces, but it only watched her cautiously as she slowly approached.
Astrid stopped, keeping her hand extended in front of her. “I won’t hurt you,” she barely said over a whisper, as if any louder would destroy the delicate moment.
Her breath caught in her throat as the Nadder leaned its beak forward and pressed it to her palm. Astrid’s mouth formed a surprised ‘O’ as her lungs filled with air again. She rubbed the Nadder’s horn, its heated breath fanning over her arm.
She glanced over her shoulder to find Hiccup watching from the cage entrance wearing the warmest smile she’d ever seen cross his lips. Right there, at that very second as they gazed at each other, something new had taken hold of her and Astrid wanted more.
***
As they worked with the dragons that morning, new desires stirred in Astrid that had barely been ignited before. She yearned to be closer with Hiccup in ways she wasn’t sure how to acquire and needs she didn’t realize she had until recently.
They went through their evening routine of sitting by the firepit. Astrid had scooted her bench closer to Hiccup’s and rested a hand on his knee. Her cheeks flushed in delight as his arm curled around her waist.
Astrid made sure to get to the bedroom first, leaving Hiccup to wash the mugs and douse the fire. Rummaging through her trunk, she pulled out the sheer nightgown that was gifted to her by the married women of the tribe. She was told to use it to seduce her husband. At the time, the idea sounded preposterous. She never imagined desiring Hiccup in such a way. But now, the thought sent shivery sparks along her skin where she longed for Hiccup’s touch.
Astrid quickly changed into the nightgown and crawled onto the bed. She tucked her legs underneath her, the coolness of the air clinging to the nearly transparent material and causing chill bumps on her skin. The rhythmic pumping of her heart carried extra blood to her cheeks and ears. She was a blushing bride if there ever was one!
Her heart leapt into her throat at Hiccup’s footfalls on the stairs. Astrid fiddled with her loose hair, twisting it over one shoulder, making sure the flowing locks weren’t covering her delectable places.
“Hey Astrid, I was thinking—”
Hiccup nearly stumbled over his own feet as the top half of him came to a screeching halt. Astrid shifted her shoulders, trying to look as pleasing as possible. She was lost as to what to do with her face in an affair like this. She found her bottom lip and nibbled on it, her nerves tingling throughout her body.
The trance Hiccup had fallen into broke, and he averted his eyes to the floor. “You’re uh…you’re…” His words stuck in his throat.
It was apparent by his immobility that he wasn’t going to make the first move. Astrid left the safe zone of the bed and closed the distance between them. She tried to steady her breathing. This was uncharted terrain; a step in the direction she’d never entertained.
Her mother had given her several lessons on the subject of the “marriage bed”. The biology behind it was the first lesson taught. How both the man’s and the woman’s bodies were to react to each other and how it was to all play out. The points were basic, and to Astrid the whole matter was like two giant puzzle pieces fitting together. That part seemed simple enough, but she didn’t count on the desires being this strong or this complicated or this confusing. That lesson was hardly covered.
Hiccup’s gaze was careful to stay fixed on her face, their eyes locked in a strange battle of wanton and heavy blushing. Astrid took the lead, leaning in to press tingling lips to her husband’s. Hiccup’s breath was heavy on her face as she closes the space between them.
Astrid wasn’t sure if this was how these matters were supposed to play out, but her natural instincts aided her limbs to move on their own accord. It took a hesitant moment for Hiccup to respond, but as Astrid worked her lips on his, his startled state began to melt away.
Hiccup grasped her hands in his, holding tight as if she were his lifeline from drifting out to sea. A shiver coursed through her and Astrid knew exactly what she wanted. She guided Hiccup’s left hand to the soft mound awaiting to be touched.
She swallowed Hiccup’s gasp. He wanted to pull away, but this was a barrier they needed to break down and Astrid knew she had to be the stronger one to do it.
Astrid held his hand in place, his palm covering her breast. Cupping the outside of his palm, she worked his hand to squeeze the mound of skin through the sheer nightgown that left nothing to the imagination. She can feel the trembles that shook up his arm, and the reaction did the same to her.
Astrid wrapped nimble fingers around his waist, drawing Hiccup flush against her. Her mind was hazy, and her vision was seeing stars at the newly founded needs.
Astrid paused at the feel of something hard on her thigh. Her recollection of what was happening all came to her. She wasn’t sure what it looked like, but she did know the man was supposed to become hard down there during intimate endeavors. She wondered if her touch would feel just as good to him down there as Hiccup’s ministrations were on her breast.
Astrid slipped a hand between them, cupping the hardness in his pants. Hiccup’s hips suddenly jerked and he hissed as if burned.
“Does that feel good or bad?” Astrid asked uncertainly, inches his lips.
“Good,” Hiccup choked out. His eyes screwed shut as his jaw clinched.
She pressed into the bulge one again. Hiccup groaned deep in his throat.
Astrid wasn’t sure what should happen next. They both needed to be unrobed for the puzzle pieces to fit together. There was an uncertainty inside her whether she wanted to get to that part yet. There was so much more exploring to be done, so much more mapping out of both their bodies.
The squeeze of his hand on her breast elicited excitement inside her, like when Hiccup held her waist as they fell asleep at night. Astrid wondered how he’d react if she slid her palm up the length in his pants. With unabated curiosity, she did just that.
Hiccup’s bulge spasmed under her stroke. He whimpered and groaned and made noises Astrid didn’t think he could produce. He doubled over, pressing his forehead into her crook of her neck. One hand gripped her forearm as the other needled fingertips into the curve of her waist.
He looked as if he were more in pain than he was in pleasure. Astrid hoped that Hiccup would tell her if something was wrong.
Dampness had somehow seeped through the material of Hiccup’s pants, and Astrid removed her hand at the unexpected liquid.
“Did you wet your pants?” she asked, afraid she’d pushed him too far too soon.
Hiccup’s eyes shot open in horror as he jerked his head up. “Oh no,” he panted, out of breath. “I gotta—” He glanced down at the state of his pants. “Oh my Thor—I gotta go—”
“Hiccup?” Astrid called out as she watched him make a quick beeline out of the bedroom. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back!” echoed from down the stairs.
Astrid huffed as she stood there, abandoned and bewildered at what in Thor’s name had happened.
tags: @martabm90 @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @ hey-its-laura-again
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Can you make a fluff of Bruce comforting and pampering his two wives: Selina and Talia who wake up crying after having a nightmare?
Ship: Talia/Bruce/Selina
Summary: An average day in a household of three parents, a teenager, and a baby, a British grandfather and butler and too many cats to counts.
AN: Well, Anon, I did say it would escalate a bit being 2.100 words long instead of 500. I based baby Damian on my baby cousin with whom I got to spend the last 2 weeks. She’s so adorable. I want one. Like not 24/7 but just when you need a hug buddy. Lots of domestic fluff before the nightmares though.
Bruce and Talia were not morning people. Period. It was part of the vigilante-and-parents-of-a-one-year-old lifestyle. If you regularly stayed up late until the early morning to fight out on the streets and then return to a baby, chances were you’d be grumpy in the morning and not as presentable as your British company would like. Bruce’s hair stuck in all directions and to Alfred’s unvoiced but heavily implied displeasure, he’d shown up to the breakfast table wearing only the shorts he’d slept in. Sleepiness clung to him even after his second cup of black tea and he decided right then and there that in case nobody else actually needed him this morning, he’d crawl back into bed with Damian for his nap.
Usually, Talia was the one who slept another round with their son in the mornings since Selina went to her gallery, but she had a Wayne Enterprises meeting at eleven and had to get ready. Though right now, she looked about as awake as him, even if she had put more effort into her appearance. She was wearing a green cardigan above her nightgown and had brushed her hair.
There was a reason that Alfred liked every family member more than Bruce before lunchtime.
And Damian and Selina, the other two early risers besides Alfred, were his favorites.
“Hello, Sleeping beauty,” Selina greeted when she and entered the kitchen. She shifted her hold on Damian so that she could give Talia a quick peck on the cheek.
“Good Morning, Dearest,” Talia replied. “And hello, my little Prince. Since when have you been up again?”
Damian giggled and hid his face in the crook of Selina’s neck. Then he turned away from it, only so slightly that he could look at his mother for a second, before laughing and hiding away again.
“Two hours ago. We’ve kept busy playing with Diamond and Spade.”
According to Bruce’s research, children liked animals, so it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that Damian loved the many cats that roamed the manor. But those two especially he seemed to adore. Whenever they were in the room, everyone and everything else was suddenly uninteresting.
“I’m starting to get jealous of them,” Talia said, though her smile spoke of her joy.
Talia and Selina had been more rested and happier recently, and Bruce cherished every moment. It was a harsh change from the beginning where every display of true affection had been hidden away behind a fortress of fear. Not that Bruce had been or was any better. Truthfully speaking, most of the time he thought he was the most emotionally constipated of them all. Emotions were like an uncontrollable tidal wave you couldn’t escape. Of course, they scared people who had spent most of their lives wearing one or another kind of mask.
“You’re still Dick’s number one though,” Selina said and put Damian down in his high-chair. He immediately began to smash the potatoes and carrots Alfred had cooked for him into even tinier pieces. Then, after stretching her arms above her head, Selina sat down next to Bruce, giving him a quick kiss as well.
“Thank you, Dearest, but we all know that isn’t true,” Talia replied.
She and Selina both shot Bruce a dirty look, and he tried extremely hard to not grin at them.
He failed.
Sue him, but he was happy that his teenage son still thought he was the coolest. All the other parents - including heroes - always complained about how distant their children were becoming, but Dick was still as affectionate as he had been as a preteen. Looking at the kitchen’s clock though, Bruce frowned. It was almost time for school and Dick still hadn’t shown up for breakfast.
“Where is Dick?”
“Doing homework,” Alfred spoke up. “I believe he wasn’t exactly truthful last night when he said he only had a few exercises to do.”
Alfred was already packing Dick’s lunchbox for school, which was more filled than usual with a variety of sandwiches and fruits. No sweets today though.
Bruce sighed. “I’ll talk to him later.”
Dick always had a hard time adjusting to school life after a break filled with heroics. Doing math simply didn’t measure up to going after back robbers.
As if summoned by their discussion, Dick came running down the hallway. The fifteen-year-old was already wearing his school uniform, even if it was a little more wrinkled than Alfred had ironed it the previous day.
“Good morning, we’re late!” He shouted in passing and only stopped to ruffle Damian’s hair and take the lunchbox out of Alfred’s hands. “I’m getting the car to the front, see you there, Alfred!”
Dick rushed out of the kitchen again, heading towards the garage.
“Does he know that we took away the car keys after the last incident?” Selina spoke up as soon as Dick was out of earshot.
“No.”
x
The day continued on as pleasantly as the morning. Once Talia had left, Selina went to feed all her cats and Bruce tried to go back to bed, but Damian had a different idea. Thus, instead of settling in his king-sized very comfortable bed, Bruce ended up on his slightly less welcoming sofa in the baby-proofed TV/living room where Damian could happily build towers.
It still caught Bruce off-guard to see how much of a genuinely cheerful child Damian was. He only cried when he hurt himself and rarely threw any tantrums. Most of the time, he just softly spoke to himself or showed his affection by hugging someone’s legs or, if in reach, gently squishing their cheeks. Bruce could spend ages just watching his son slowly explore the world around him.
After about two hours, Damian finally tired and decided to nap on Bruce’s chest.
X
“They’re adorable!”
“Don’t wake them up, Dick, they need their sleep.”
“Dami is already half-awake though. And I stayed up as long as Bruce yesterday and I’m not as tired.”
“Bruce is an old man already.”
When Bruce finally opened his eyes, Damian was staring into them with his own still baby blue eyes. Damian gurgled and put his hands on Bruce’s face.
“You’re my age, Selina,” Bruce muttered when he finally sat up.
He put Damian on the ground, and the boy immediately waddled over to the other sofa, where Dick and Selina were curled up next to each other. Dick with a comic book in hand and Selina holding onto the TV remote. As soon as Damian reached the sofa, Dick picked him up and showed him his comic.
“But you’re an old soul, Bat. Less 29 and more 87.”
Bruce rolled his eyes and threw one of the sofa pillows after her which of course she caught with ease. “Thank you, Selina.”
“You’re welcome. Now, do you want to watch Night at the museum with us or not?”
Bruce contemplated staying on his sofa out of sheer protest, but that also put the tea out of his reach. From the way Selina was smirking at him, he deduced that she knew it as well.
Well, his ego wasn’t so big that he couldn’t admit defeat once in a while.
X
Talia returned home the minute Alfred put dinner on the table. She was frowning, and Bruce had no doubt that he’d get to hear about incompetent board directors later on. Dick chatted away about his day, throwing in one or two or three unsubtle allusions to Robin every five minutes they all ignored, and understood every babble from Damian as serious input to his narration. Alfred took to reminding them about the harvest gala at the end of the month and usually this would be the moment Selina pitched in to tell them about what arrangements she had made so far, but beyond a few vague ideas, she didn’t say much.
Talia and Bruce exchanged worried looks but didn’t say anything. With Selina, you had to wait until she came to you.
After dinner, Dick ran off to chat even more with his friends, Talia brought Damian to bed, and Selina disappeared in their bedroom. Bruce headed to the Batcave to do some last security checks. They didn’t have any active cases and if no alarm rang, he wouldn’t head out today.
It had already gone dark hours ago, but by the time Bruce fell into bed, Talia and Selina were already sleeping, hogging the blankets as usual.
X
It was a grip on his arm that woke him up. It hadn’t taken much, Bruce was a slight sleeper, and he sat upright in bed. Selina’s black nails were digging into his arm, and she didn’t let go until her breathing evened. She didn’t shed a single tear, her shoulders didn’t even move. Selina didn’t cry unless she could gain something from it.
“Can I help you?” Bruce asked once she had calmed down.
They hadn’t had a bad night in a while, Bruce should have expected this. There was something about peaceful days that put them all on edge.
Bruce wanted to ask a hundred things. Know all there was to Selina. What exactly happened on her trip to the gallery, whether that had anything to do with the fact that she was wearing Talia and Bruce’s clothes instead of her own if she was aware how loved she was-
But that was too much right now. Instead, Bruce just pulled her close and wrapped the blanket around them.
“Where is Talia?” Selina asked after a few minutes.
They both turned right to look at the bathroom, but the door was closed and no remains of light could be seen at the floor.
Seemed like Talia hadn’t had slept well either.
“Probably with one of the boys. We should go look for her.”
X
They found Talia just outside the hallway, sitting in the space between the doors to Dick’s room and Damian’s nursery. Her back was straight and her legs folded beneath her while her sword laid on her lap. The pose was a familiar one. Bruce recalled spending hours sitting like this in the wilderness, waiting for one of his teachers to silently approach him and attempt to cut him down.
At least the sword was still in his sheath. She wasn’t actually preparing for an attack, just for the possibility of one.
“You’re keeping watch over the boys tonight?”
Talia replied with a short nod and moved only slightly to accommodate for Selina making herself comfortable next to her.
“You know they’re safe, right?”
Another nod.
“No harm will come to them.”
Talia took a deep breath and leaned towards Selina.
“They’re safe, just sleeping behind the doors. And Damian will wake up again in the morning, and we’ll play with the cats as always while you and Bruce still sleep.”
“Dick will get up on time and argue that it means he can take long patrols during the week. And Alfred…”
Selina kept talking, reminding Talia and herself of the everyday life of the manor. Bruce, meanwhile, went to fulfill his role of the night. He went down to the kitchen, narrowly avoiding stepping on one of the cats. Bruce turned on the stove and poured milk, honey, chocolate, and cinnamon in a pot. Once the hot chocolate was done, he fetched three cups and poured the liquid into them. Bruce took the tray specifically reserved for carrying tea, coffee, and hot chocolate from the same cupboard and made his way upstairs again. After a quick detour into their bedroom, Bruce settled down next to his lovers with the warm beverage, their blanket, and two big pillows.
Talia’s head was now wholly resting on Selina’s left shoulder.
“Thank you, Beloved,” she said when Bruce handed her a mug.
It wasn’t the first time the three of them spent camping out in one of the hallways instead of the bed and it certainly wouldn’t be the last though. For now, though, with skin touching skin, reassuring them that everyone was home, and a blanket to cover them, all was well.
#batman#bruce wayne#selina kyle#talia al ghul#brutalina#batcat#demoncat#brutalia#that was talia/selina’s ship name right??#dick grayson#damian wayne#dc#dc comics#anon#ask#prompt#I JUST LIKE MY DOMESTIC OT3#fanfic
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Heart of Steel - I
Description: Sir James is known throughout the lands as the most fearsome and honorable warrior. Ballads have been written about him. Men fear him. He is the most trusted knight of the King Henry. So why has he given up the glories of war and pledged his loyalty to Princess Y/N?
Pairing: Medieval AU -Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader
Word Count: 3,183
Warning: If you’re a history buff, probably don’t read this because the historical inaccuracies will most likely drive you crazy. 😅
Series Masterlist
“Sir James,” Y/N says overly sweetly. She only used his correct title when they were not alone or when she wanted to tease him; this time it was both. “You are said to be one of the strongest knights to have ever lived. People fear you on the battlefield. You are renowned throughout the lands…”
Bucky kept his face emotionless, choosing to wait patiently for her to finish.
“So why, Sir James, do you waste your days protecting me? Surely this life is quite lowly to a man of your honor.” Her eyes were so playful and mischievous. She knew he couldn’t respond honestly when her ladies-in-waiting and servants surrounded them.
Bucky wasn’t in the mood for her games today. Y/N did this when she was bored. She was much too clever and witty to be a princess. She got easily bored, which was why she caused so much trouble as a child. The trouble continued into her young adulthood, but Y/N had become much better at hiding it.
“You are the princess, Your Highness.” Bucky replied evenly.
Y/N looked disappointed that he wasn’t playing the part she had hoped.
“Me? The princess?” She gasped theatrically. “Why… I had no idea?”
Her ladies-in-waiting giggled, hiding their amusement with their fans.
Bucky hated them. He believed Y/N deserved better company. They were all fictitious friends. None of them actually knew who Y/N was as a person. They only cared for her title. Everyone wanted to be close to the princess.
Bucky narrowed his gaze just enough that it wasn’t a glare.
“You are the Crown Princess; daughter of King Henry, the world’s most powerful ruler. He has called you his greatest treasure. The duty of protecting her is anything but lowly.” He raised an eyebrow.
Y/N paused before letting out boisterous laughter. Her mother had scolded her for it since she was a child. Y/N didn’t laugh like a princess, didn’t hide her lips behind her hand or a fan. No, Y/N laughed loud and threw her head back. She could fill an entire room with joy from it.
Bucky was grateful that her governess, teachers, and mother couldn’t beat it out of her.
“Oh, how you flatter me so, Sir James.” She sipped on a goblet of wine. Her eyes darkened as she stared him down. “But you also speak of me as if I am a possession and nothing more.”
Anger flashed across Bucky’s eyes at the accusation. He never saw Y/N has anything less than her own independent self. In fact, he might be one of the few who did.
But Bucky was trained to keep his emotions and reactions hidden.
“No one could ever truly possess a princess, Your Highness. I am not foolish enough to repeat the same mistake of other men. Unbeknownst to them, they would have better luck catching smoke than making a woman their possession.”
If Y/N was caught off guard by his retort, she didn’t show it.
Instead, she smirked and looked around at their audience. “Is he not the most amusing man we could ever have in our midst?” Y/N teased.
———
“Why do you torture him so?” Wanda asked Y/N as she brushed her hair.
Y/N sat in her nightgown, hair undone, and no makeup staining her skin.
Yes, Wanda was her servant. But she was also Y/N’s dearest friend. When they were alone, Y/N treated her as an equal.
“Who?” Y/N asked. “You know who: Sir James. I saw you teasing him earlier today. I know you do it out of your own boredom. But I feel bad for the poor man.” Wanda giggled softly.
“One day he will grow tired of me, I feel it. I always imagined him as the captain of my father’s army.” Y/N tried to hide the sadness in her eyes as she imagined the day it became true. But Wanda knew her too well to miss it.
“I know it is not my place, Your Highness…” She began carefully.
“Wanda, how many times must I say it, even after all these years? You may call me Y/N when we are alone. And you may speak freely. We are friends, are we not?”
Wanda nodded.
“Truly, you must see how Sir James looks at you. I cannot imagine a day when he will ever leave your side. He loves you and it is a love beyond the simple commoner for his princess.”
Y/N’s eyes softened.
“I only wonder if you will ever allow yourself to love him back.” Wanda added quietly as she continued to brush Y/N’s hair.
“What does it matter? Love will never be my path. I am a princess, Wanda. I marry for my kingdom, not for love.”
“The King and Queen love each other, do they not?” Wanda challenged lightly.
“Yes, but it was out of sheer dumb luck…furthermore, it took years. ” Y/N replied with an obvious bitterness.
“I know you do not truly believe that, Y/N.” Wanda sighed.
————
Bucky patiently waited outside Y/N’s bedchambers.
It was the start of another day and it had already been announced that she was not attending court. He was grateful. The smell of their too strong perfume and the sound of their fake giggles gave him headaches. When he was lucky, he got pulled away, by request of the King, for other pursuits.
Suddenly, Y/N’s door opened.
The other guard stationed with Bucky straightened his posture almost in panic.
Y/N was not only wearing riding gear, but riding gear that was meant for a man.
Bucky tried to ignore the way the outfit hugged her body in ways her dresses never did. He could perfectly see the shape of her legs and the curve of her bottom.
“I wish to go riding.” Y/N told the two men.
“Your Highness, a storm is quickly approaching. The horses have been unruly all day,” the other guard argued.
Y/N raised an eyebrow and glared at him. “I did not ask for a foretelling of weather, Sir Arthur.”
Bucky had to hide his smirk. He had never met a woman that could put a man back in his place like she could. She could make any man feel as though he was being scolded by his mother once again.
“If you are worried about getting caught in a storm, you need not worry. I only request Sir James as an escort.” Y/N added with a tilt of her head.
“But that is not the proper formality, your highness!” Sir Arthur argued.
“Leave it be,” Bucky warned him. “We will be fine without your accompaniment.”
Y/N looked pleased with his support. “And just for that, you may hurry ahead and tell the stablemen to ready our horses, Sir Arthur.”
He looked embarrassed to be so patronized. But he knew his place and nodded before practically running and disappearing down the halls.
Bucky started escorting Y/N in the same direction, but at a much slower pace.
He sighed and chuckled to himself. “Must you be so hard on him?”
Y/N scoffed, “He speaks to me as if I am a child.”
“He has known you since you were one,” Bucky replied. But then his eyes looked over her outfit, once again. “If your mother catches you in those clothes, you will never hear the end of it.”
Y/N smiled at him. “Is it not your duty to protect me, Sir James? That means I need saving from danger both within and outside these castle walls.”
“Aye, your mother is a danger.”
The comment earned him a burst of laughter from her. It bounced off the marble walls surrounding them. Bucky swore his heart could be made of ice and Y/N’s laughter would melt it still.
They both knew to take lesser known paths to avoid servants and nobles, or worse, members of Y/N’s royal family.
Eventually they made it to the stables.
Y/N’s horse was a wild beast. It was a gift from her older brother, Anthony. He’d been in town square, watching a group of men fail to tame it. He overheard them discussing the possibility of simply killing it and selling the meat for money. But Tony wouldn’t allow it. He bought the black, Friesian, stallion and knew, in his heart, that Y/N could bridle him.
Y/N had a gift with horses. She would’ve made a fine horse-breaker if she had been born a commoner. Bucky swore it was like watching a sorcerer place an enchantment as she whispered soothing words to the beasts. They melted under her touch and voice.
Tony’s gift had been the same. Y/N named him Moon, for his coat was so black that the light bounced off it in a beautiful shade of blue. It reminded her of the way the world looked under moonlight.
Y/N let his mane and tale grow out. She refused to let anyone touch them. Bucky always smiled when he remembered the time she caught a stable boy trying to comb a brush through the horse’s mane. The boy got quite the scolding.
“I want him to remain wild,” Y/N had told him.
Moon adored Y/N. If there was anyone more protective of her than Bucky, it was that damn horse. Most of the stableman couldn’t go near him without getting a bite or a stomp to one of their feet. However, Moon tolerated Bucky and Tony.
Bucky watched as Y/N cooed at her stallion. He instantly nuzzled her palm and lightly stomped his feet in excitement, knowing they were about to go on a ride.
Bucky’s horse was a grey, Percheron, mare. It was a horse bred for war, and Bucky had told Y/N of all the times she practically saved his life on the battlefield. She was a giant thing that most people weren’t even big enough to ride. Unlike Moon, she was a gentle and friendly animal. But when armor was placed on her back, she was a force to be reckoned with.
Bucky named her Persephone. “When I ride her through the battlefield, I never know if she’s guiding me to my death or away from it,” Bucky had said when Y/N asked why.
Y/N mounted Moon. She did not ride sidesaddle, like a proper lady. Which was also why she had to sneak about the castle to go for rides. But that was how she’d become such a great rider. There wasn’t a horse in the kingdom that could throw her off.
Bucky had already mounted Persephone. His sword was still at his waist, but a bow and arrows were added to the saddle as well.
Y/N glanced back at him. “Try to keep up,” she smirked before digging her heels into Moon’s side and taking off.
Bucky shook his head in annoyance. But it was all for show. As soon as he was out of the barn and into the meadows, he broke into a smile and urged Persephone to catch up.
His eyes looked up at the sky. His comrade hadn’t been wrong: a storm was coming their way. It was straight ahead and it looked like Y/N was trying to ride straight into the black clouds.
Y/N was a better rider than even Bucky. So he would never catch up to her.
She only slowed down when rain started pelting them.
He saw her look around and steer Moon to a giant beech tree in the near distance. Its branches were so broad and its leaves were so big that it would give them shelter to wait out the storm.
When Bucky reached it, Y/N was already soaking wet. But her lips spread into a beaming smile. He saw that her skin was covered in goosebumps and she was shivering slightly.
He dismounted and ripped off his cloak to wrap around her.
“Your lips are about to turn blue, Y/N.” He practically berated her.
“But what about you, Bucky?”
Now that they were completely alone, they called each other by their informal names and not titles. It was forbidden and could easily have Bucky hanged, if Y/N or another royal member wished it.
Y/N was also her true self now. Not rigid and proper, or sometimes even bratty. No, now she was kind and gentle and relaxed. This was the woman that Bucky fell in love with.
No one even knew of Bucky’s nickname, except for maybe a handful of people.
“I am fine,” He assured her. “I cannot have the royal princess dying from a cold, even if riding into a deadly storm was her perposterous idea.”
Y/N looked down at the ground. “I am sorry. I just - ”
“I know,” Bucky caught her off guard. “That castle asphyxiates you.”
Her eyes widened at how well he knew her. But she nodded in agreement.
Moon interrupted their little moment as he stood close to Y/N, pressing his large body against hers, while also being careful not to step on her feet. The horse was trying to offer the warmth of his body to her.
“See, he is worried too.” Bucky pointed out.
“Me, being your princess…” Y/N muttered softly, “Is it the only reason you care for me? Because it is your duty?”
Bucky’s eyes softened as he took Y/N in. Her hair was dripping went and somehow the overcast made the color of her irises emerge.
He reached forward and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
This is all they would allow themselves: subtle touches and longing stares.
Bucky wouldn’t grant himself anything else and Y/N was too scared of what she would feel if she did.
“Do you wish me to leave you?” He asked her, instead of answering her own question.
Y/N shook her head roughly. “I fear the day that you grow bored of me and return to fighting wars.”
Her eyes were filled with nothing but dread and sincerity.
But before Bucky could reply, she was mounting her horse and acting as if nothing had happened.
“The storm has passed.”
Bucky blinked rapidly, trying to process what just happened and return to his usual stoicalness. He mounted Persephone.
“Are we racing?” He failed to succeed in having a playful tone like he intended.
Y/N pulled up the hood of his cloak that she still wore. “Nay, I am in no hurry to return to the castle.”
They walked Moon and Persephone at a sluggish pace. It was as if their horses knew neither of them wanted to leave their tiny escape and return to reality.
Bucky tensed when he heard and felt the galloping of an approaching horse from beyond the hills. But the landscape hid them from view. Bucky rushed Persephone in front of Y/N. Moon reared up on his hind legs, sensing the intruder too. But Y/N calmed him enough to get him back down on all fours.
Bucky unsheathed his sword and readied himself.
But it seemed far too dramatic when Sir Samuel cantered up the hill and made his appearance.
“God almighty, Sam! You almost knocked the princess off her horse from frightening Moon like that.” Bucky scolded.
“He did not!” Y/N rejected, offended by him even considering that she could ever be thrown off a horse.
“My apologies, Your Highness.” Sam bowed his head.
He was one of the few guards that Y/N liked. Him and Bucky were dear friends, though they pretended to despise one another. Sir Samuel, Sir Clinton, Sir Scott, and Sir James Rupert were the only other guards that Bucky trusted with Y/N’s safety when he was not around. Sometimes he would send Peter, his squire, to watch over Y/N when she was stuck in court all day and Bucky was preoccupied.
“Is there a reason for your intrusion, Sam?” Bucky asked gruffly.
Sam eyes went back and forth between Y/N and him.
Bucky glanced over at Y/N to see that she wouldn’t meet his eye and she looked guilty for some reason.
Sam’s jaw tightened. “Her Highness was forbade to leave the castle today. The King sent a dozen men out to look for the two of you.”
Bucky eyed Y/N again, but she was staring into the distance.
“What on God’s name for?” Bucky urged, irritation evident in his tone.
“His Majesty did not clarify.” Sam paused, making sure to choose his next words very, very carefully. “However, I can only assume it relates to the recent arrival of a possible suitor... for Her Highness.”
Bucky stared at Y/N, shaking his head in disapproval at her act of childish defiance.
“Ride ahead, Sam. Tell the King we shall be there shortly.” Bucky ordered.
“And do feel free to also tell the ‘possible suitor’ he can leave and never come back, Sir Samuel.” Y/N added before Sam had turned his horse.
Sam didn’t bother hiding his smirk, always appreciating the princess’ feisty attitude. “I do no wish to get beheaded today, Your Highness. But I will do my best to scare him away.”
Once Sam galloped away, Bucky didn’t break his glare toward Y/N. But she ignored it.
“Was there something you forgot to inform me of, dear princess?” He hissed.
Bucky only called Y/N princess when he was upset with her.
She ignored his question and dismounted, grabbing Moon by the reins to walk him.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Bucky snapped. “Are you blind, James? I am walking Moon back to the castle.”
Bucky was angry and practically jumped from his saddle to march over to her. “You are behaving like an impudent child!” He growled at Y/N as he ripped Moon’s reigns from her hands.
“I would like to engage in what little free will I have left. Thank you very much.”
“Get back on your horse or I will throw you over my own.” Bucky warned.
“Oh, I bet father and this suitor would love seeing me spread across another man’s lap. What a great introduction!” Y/N taunted.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, “I am sure your father would not mind with how you are behaving today.”
But then the rebellious streak ended and Y/N’s eyes almost filled with tears.
“Are you really so eager to hand me off to some strange man?” Y/N whispered.
Bucky blinked as he was blindsided. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Y/N ignored his shock and ripped Moon’s reigns back before mounting again.
“All I wanted was a day alone with you,” Y/N confessed as she looked down from her steed. “I thought you would savor it as I did…not try to rid yourself of me as soon as possible.”
She kicked Moon’s side and galloped off before Bucky could find a reply.
Bucky’s heart sunk as he watched her ride further and further away from him.
----------------------
Part II
I am very, very excited about this AU series. So let me know your thoughts ! 🙏🏻
Series Masterlist
#knight!bucky#knight!bucky x princess!reader#medieval!avengers#medieval!bucky#sir james buchanan#knight bucky barnes#bucky barnes au#heart of steel#knight bucky#marvel au series#bucky insert reader#marvel insert reader
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CS Supernatural Summer**
Hello, this is my offering to the CSSNS gods. Since I feel like the runt of the litter because there are some talented writers participating. I hope you all like the story. To be honest, I was nervous and then technical issues occurred in the form of my computer crashing and all my notes and stuff disappeared so I almost didn't make my deadline but I dived for it and made it just in the nick of time.
A little bit about this story. Okay, it was inspired by the movie Wolf from 94. Oh my gosh, I rewatched it because it had been so long since I first watched it and let me say it was a cheesy movie but I loved the different take on the whole wolf/werewolf mythology and I've said it before and I will say it again I think of CS playing out the roles on every movie I've previously seen or anything really. I did borrow some dialogue from the movie and ouat anything I felt fit well together. It is not a complete retelling of the movie but some of it was used.
Thanks to everyone that assisted in my freakouts. My lovely Beta @artistic-writer and @hookedonapirate for the artwork assist.
A/N: Can a cursed bite lead a man to find his one true love? An unexpected happy ending or a new beginning?
AO3 or FFN
(Part 1)
Wild Within
…
The eerie, pitch black road was intermittently illuminated by the moonlight, and snow covered the surrounding trees. Not another living soul was in sight. In hindsight, he should have paid closer attention to the road, but time was his enemy and all he could think of was that he was running late.
Out of his peripheral vision, he saw something streak from the forest. This something, an animal of sorts, jumped in front of his beloved classic car and before Killian could even think about swerving out of the way, he made contact. Oh please don’t let it be dead. Hopefully, the animal was alive, but if it wasn’t he would give it some dignity. He would not allow a poor innocent animal to become roadkill.
He had been distracted by thoughts of his love. It was their anniversary, married for five years, and he was more in love than ever.
At the beginning of their relationship, they were looking for something casual. No commitment. They just wanted to enjoy each other, neither of them were looking for love, but somehow it had found them. The day he met Milah was at a mandatory office party that he had no inclination to attend. Killian was nursing some rum at the bar when she approached to order a drink, and they had exchanged some small talk along with some smiles, and now he was a happily married man.
He sighed and looked for a flashlight because the headlights were not providing enough illumination for his inspection. He found one and checked it, the bulb flickering a little before staying on. It wasn’t perfect but it would do, so he exited his car and approached the animal. It looked like a dog, only it was bigger. Much bigger.
He knelt in front of it and noticed the beast had its eyes closed and was breathing with shallow pants, but suddenly, its eyes opened and it snarled and snapped at him, catching him on the hand.
Disconcerted, Killian watched as the wolf - it’s a bloody wolf - rose to its feet, bared its teeth and growled at him, and then ran with a limp into the forest. Apparently, the animal was not as hurt as he had first thought, but least he didn’t have to call animal control to pick it up.
Killian looked around for any other signs of life. He knew wolves traveled in packs, and he certainly didn’t want to be caught unawares if there were more nearby. He looked down at his hand to inspect the bite, but it didn’t look to be at all serious. It was not much more than a nibble, but he should probably go to the doctor regardless. He shrugged and stood up to inspect his car. The hood and grill didn’t show any signs of damage, but it was dark, so he’d have to inspect it in the daylight. He got in and continued until he reached his intended destination.
Killian knocked on the door of the hotel room. “Killian, it’s about time!” Milah pulled him inside the room wearing a sheer nightgown and promptly pushed him against the door as she kissed him. She desperately pushed his coat off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She was touching him all over in a frenzy and was about to tear the shirt open for better access when he stopped her.
“Milah! Sorry I’m late, love. I had a little accident,” he stammered as he glanced at his bitten hand with smudges of dried blood.
“What? Killian, I’m so sorry and I was just attacking you! Are you alright?” She looked at him incredulously and stepped back, distancing herself from him both physically and emotionally.
He took a breath and continued, “I’m fine and I don’t mind being attacked by the woman I love. Sweetheart, we need to talk-”
“But I don’t want to talk��� Don’t you want me?” The look in her eyes turned sultry, “It is our anniversary after all…” she purred as she sauntered toward him.
He raised his hand to stop her and walked toward his discarded coat with his jaw clenched. “I have something for you.” It never failed. Every time he just wanted to talk to her she wasn’t interested. She had been so distant lately. She only wanted to fuck. Fuck, not make love. He tried to banish the thoughts from his mind as he turned back to her with a small box in his hand. She was pouting on the other side of the room. He stared at her as he held out the anniversary gift he’d purchased to commemorate their love.
“Milah love,” he slowly approached her with the gift and handed it to her. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you. I love them.” She opened the box and looked at the diamond earrings with a lack of excitement that she tried to hide. She walked toward her bag and grabbed a box. She made her way back to him “Here is your gift and Happy Anniversary.” She grabbed a drink and sat down.
“Thank you. It’s lovely.” He looked at the expensive watch. “Milah, I –“
Annoyed at his insistence, she interrupted him once again, “Killian, I’m very tired and I think I’m going to turn in. Goodnight.”
He stood there in the middle of the room as she locked herself in the bathroom. Hurt and frustrated, he grabbed his coat and stormed out into the cold night, anniversary gifts forgotten. He had struggled to make the day special somehow. Unable to get out of a work commitment to truly spoil his wife as he had wished but life interfered.
Somehow, amid the firestorm in his head, Killian had made it home and fallen asleep in their marital bed. After a night of mostly tossing and turning, he got up and got ready for work.
As he was about to leave, he decided he should probably change the bandage on his hand. Once he had removed it, he was amazed to find no evidence of the bite. Shrugging his shoulders, he hurried to the office.
Excelsior Publishing House. The sign on the tall building never ceased to thrill him. Killian loved his job. He loved everything about it. He had loved to read from the time he was a little boy and he couldn’t help but think that perhaps that was what made him a good editor-in-chief. His mentor at the publishing house had taken him under his wing and truly shown him the ropes. Killian’s charm and good looks were usually quite effective in signing new authors. But when they didn’t work, his obvious knowledge of the industry closed the deal. These things ensured that the best client list belonged to him. His authors remained at the top of the Bestsellers List for weeks at a time. He had it all. He had a job he loved, and a wife he adored. Everything he had ever wanted. Even with the storm clouds on the horizon.
The publishing house was being absorbed by Spencer Group; the parent company of Nolan & Blanchard, a communications company. The takeover had been in talks for some time now. The tension at Excelsior over potential job losses was palpable. Killian himself wasn’t quite as anxious as perhaps he should be. He felt his value to the house would ensure his continued employment, but if things went south, he knew his best friend Robert Gold would follow him and if it was the other way around, Killian would do the same. They had been friends for years, and it was through Robert that he had met and fallen in love with Milah. Robert had been set up on a blind date with the beautiful Milah Balefrie, but they just didn’t click. He introduced Milah and Killian and Killian was instantly besotted. He had hesitated in pursuing her because of his friendship with Robert, but his friend had encouraged him. He would be forever grateful to his friend for introducing him to his love.
Reaching his office, he was surprised to find his assistant, William Smee, waiting for him.
“Oh, Smee, good, you’re here. I need you to schedule a doctor’s appointment for me. The earlier the better.”
“Of course sir.” Smee stumbled out of the door and collided with Ella De Vil. “I’m sorry Miss De Vil. I will announce you in one second.”
“Darling, there is no need to announce me. Killian is one of my special friends.” She pushed Smee to the side and without knocking, stormed into Killian’s office. Killian looked up, startled as she entered.
“Hello, darling.” Ella approached Killian and kissed his cheek.
“Ella, I’m sorry love, did we have an appointment?”
“No, I just heard about the merger.” She paced in front of his desk. “What are you going to do Killian?” she asked, turning to face him.
“I plan on staying put after the takeover,” he replied.
“What are you saying? Are you saying there’s a chance of them letting you go? You are Editor-in-Chief! Your name and reputation alone should be enough to keep you on.”
“Thank you, love, but that is not up to you. But the good news is that my best friend is the head of marketing and he is willing to leave with me if I leave. Word is they are not willing to lose him.” Killian shrugged.
“Well how about we add to the mix? I will leave too.” The twinkle in her eye suggested she was enjoying this a little too much. Killian smiled, “I will let Bobby know and thank you for your support.”
She waved his thanks aside, with a laugh, “Oh, darling, you know I love you. I’ll follow you anywhere. If only Milah had not won your heart, I would be the one enjoying that stubble.”
Killian turned beet red to the tips of his elf ears. “Of course love,” he replied, looking down at his desk.
“Are you going for a new look? Your hair and the beard too look... different.” She approached his side of the desk, undeterred when he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Pardon?” Killian looked up, surprised to see her standing right next to him.
“Your hair looks thicker and the beard too.” She reached to touch his jawline and he quickly dodged her. He loved Ella De Vil but sometimes she was too handsy.
“I’m afraid I didn’t have enough time to trim it today. Would you excuse me one tic?” Rushing around her toward the door, Killian made his escape.
“Of course.” She sat down.
He reached Smee’s desk, just as he was hanging up the phone.
“Sir, the doctor said he could squeeze you in today as long as you arrive before noon.”
“Are you ill darling?” Ella asked concerned. Both men looked up, startled to see that Ella had followed Killian out of the office.
“No,” Killian waved aside her concern, “a wolf bit me and I need to get a rabies shot.”
“Oh well, then you should make haste and go get that shot. Killian, please keep me informed about your status here. I refuse to work with anyone else.” The seriousness on her face spoke volumes to Killian.
He nodded, “Thank you for your support, Ella.’’
Killian then glanced into Smee’s direction. “I better go see the good doctor then. Smee will you be attending the party at Spencer’s?”
“I will sir and you?”
“We will be there. I better go. See you there,” Killian replied as he strode out of the office.
“See you tonight, sir.”
At the doctor’s office, no one believed he was bitten by a wolf. All he can do is listen to the doctor’s anecdotes about rabies shots and his sister-in-law getting bit in the arse by a raccoon.
Later that evening, Killian was dressed all in black and waiting for his lovely wife. Tick tock, he thought, glancing at his watch. Finally, she emerged dressed in a dark grey fitted dress. It hugged her in all the right places and Killian couldn’t help when his thoughts took a lascivious turn. “You look stunning, love,” he whispered in her ear as he helped her with her coat.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She was obviously not excited to be going to the party, but as he opened the door for her, he promised he’ll make it up to her later if she’ll let him.
Emma Nolan stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dressing room not really seeing the beautiful face before her. Her tasteful and elegant gown accentuated her lithe body but she was totally oblivious. She was lost in thoughts of the last six months. The last six months that had changed her life forever. The Spencer Estate, no her home, should be called Nolan. After all, George Spencer was the step-father of David Nolan. This was their home. Not his. David had been raised here. George was the interloper. He had married Ruth Nolan when David and James were in their late teens. James had taken to the man but David had always been more cautious.
Ten years later both Ruth and James perished in an accident. Foul play was ruled out, but after recent events, Emma had gone back to look at the accident that killed her grandmother and uncle that she barely remembered. Emma’s instincts were rarely off, and something about the accident didn’t sit right with her. As the older twin and already working in the family communication business, David inherited his mother’s position of CEO instead of George. Instead of the loss unifying the house, it tore it apart. And then there were two. David and socialite Snow Blanchard had married by this time and their only child, Emma, was a toddler. When she was old enough, David started bringing her in to get her familiar with the business so she could one day take over. Now she was a woman. A woman thoroughly trained into the business. A woman who could handle the day to day operations. She worked by her father’s side and was ready to step in when he was ready to retire. Tragically, six months ago, instead of some planned family time together at the Storybrooke estate, David and Snow were in a car accident. Their car, which was in excellent working condition, or more specifically its brakes, had suddenly failed. It was his decision to not resuscitate. It was his fault her parents were dead. She hated him. They had fallen in a coma together as they did everything else. Their injuries had not been considered serious at first and then the doctor said they had no brain activity. Once they had been declared brain dead, George Spencer pounced and took over. She had requested a second opinion. He had claimed that she was too distraught to properly handle the situation or to manage the company and managed to force her out. And now, thanks to him, she was alone. She and George were the last remaining members of the family. The worst thing was that he kept trying to sell the loving family angle.
She kept her distance and avoided interacting with the man as much as she could but the merger with Excelsior had been one of her father’s projects so she wanted to see it through for him. She shook her head and brought herself back to the present and the party downstairs that she REALLY didn’t want to go to. But, she was expected and she didn’t need to give her grandfather another reason to push her further out from her father’s company. With a sigh, she picked up her wrap and headed for the door.
The party had been dull, to say the least. Killian couldn’t wait to get out of there. It felt like creepy crawlies were under his skin and he couldn’t figure out why. He felt like it was a time bomb that was surely going to explode in his face soon.
The dinner had been delicious as he met the surprised gaze of his wife at his new found craving for extremely rare meat, all but dripping with blood. He was enjoying the conversation between Robert and Milah, only occasionally sharing his thoughts when he was summoned.
A liveried butler approached the table. “Mr. Jones could you please follow me, sir. Mr. Spencer would like to have a word with you on the terrace.”
“Of course,” Killian replied as he smiled and rose from his seat. “Please excuse me,” he said to his dining companions. He then promptly followed the butler.
As he stepped out onto the terrace he was greeted by a tall, thin, balding man. “Mr. Jones, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Likewise Mr. Spencer,” he replied holding out his hand, “I understand you wanted to have a word.”
George Spencer looked down at Killian’s proffered hand with only thinly veiled disdain. “Ah yes, right to the point. Let’s take a walk.” The man turned toward the stairs that would take them to the manicured estate grounds. Killian followed with a furrowed brow. After some minutes walking away from the house, the music and laughter from inside a distant echo, George stopped. “I want you to consider Europe. Eastern Europe to be precise.” He finally turned to look at Killian’s troubled visage.
“Sir, I don’t follow.” Confusion laced his words.
With a sigh of impatience, George continued, “I want you to think of it as your area. A brand new market opening up and I think you are a perfect match.” Now, Killian was no fool, but he just couldn’t summon the same enthusiasm that was so apparent in the man’s words.
“I see.” Killian nodded. “Then it is safe to assume that I will no longer be editor-in-chief at Excelsior after the takeover?” He could hear the resignation and defeat in his voice, whilst something inside him was screaming at him to not just lay down and let this man walk all over him. But he felt helpless to comply with that sentiment.
“I hope you understand that this is business and not personal.” George placed a placating hand on Killian’s shoulder. “You are clearly a man of taste and individuality, which I prize.” The false sympathy in his voice turned Killian’s stomach.
He shook the man’s hand from his shoulder. That at least got the screaming in his head to turn the volume down just a notch. “You just don’t prize said qualities enough to let me keep my job. I wonder what traits my successor possesses?” he pondered aloud.
With a shrug of his shoulders and nonchalant demeanor, George answered, “Drive and ambition. He nagged me until I gave him your job.”
“I see,” Killian repeated. He smiled tightly and couldn’t help himself as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to drown out the continued ranting in his head and to stop himself from divulging his true feelings.
They continued their walk in silence. Reaching into his jacket pocket Killian retrieved and turned on a cigarette. He knew it was a horrible vice but right now he needed it. Anything to keep his mouth and hands occupied.
Up ahead, Killian noticed a small crowd gathering. He then spotted the beautiful beast.
“This is my prized possession,” George spoke reverently as he approached the magnificent creature. A huge black stallion, fully 16 hands high at the shoulder, stood in front of them along with a couple more horses. “He is the sire. I’m sorry but please put the cigarette out. Horses don’t like them.” Killian stood, awestruck at the breathtaking animal. The horse snickered as his master approached, but when the horse met Killian’s eyes, all hell broke loose! The horses reared, hooves kicking the air in front of them, screaming, ears flattening against their heads, eyes wide in panic before landing on solid earth again, turning and galloping away.
Killian was aware of screams. All he could hear were screams. They seemed to echo in his head. He thought it was the other people in the crowd. Then he thought it must be the horse’s screams. They must have somehow taken up residence between his ears. Finally, he realized the screams were his own. Both in his head and pouring from his mouth. As he tried to drown out the sounds of his fear and anguish, Killian ran. He ran toward the trees that were a good 300 yds away. Within what seemed like only seconds, he was beyond the tree line. He spotted a bench and sat. The screaming was finally beginning to quiet down. His heart was pounding so fast he thought it would explode given half the chance.
“I have a feeling this will help. Drink up.” A feminine voice from his left got his attention as she handed him an amber liquid.
Kilian looked up at the source and was transfixed by what he saw before him. A beautiful blonde woman in her early twenties. She wore a red leather jacket and skinny jeans. She had green eyes that instantly calmed him and silenced the screaming for good.
“I can't thank you enough for your kindness lass,” he replied as he swallowed the rum down, “but now you are without a drink.”
“No worries. Follow me.” She turned away, her long curls bouncing against her back. Killian couldn’t help himself. He got up and followed her. Something inside told him this would not be the last time he followed her. He thought he recognized her from dinner earlier, but couldn’t be sure, as her appearance, if she was the same person, was quite different. They entered a cottage not far from the bench where she found him. She preceded him inside. “Would you like another drink?” she asked, turning to him with a small smile on her face. Killian was captivated. He was certain he’d never beheld anything so beautiful in his entire life.
“I don’t think I should lass. I don’t want to drink all your liquor.” He smiled shyly yet genuinely at his gracious host.
“What are you, the last gentleman alive?” She asked skeptically with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ll have you know, I’m always a gentleman.” Killian tried to look affronted. He didn’t think he pulled it off very well.
“I sincerely doubt that. You look like you could have a bit of a scoundrel in you.” She turned toward the kitchen.“How about you tell me what that anxiety attack was caused by?” she tossed over her shoulder.
Killian followed her into the kitchen as she prepared herself a drink, “Well, it turns out I’m about to enjoy Europe.” His shrug and self-deprecating chuckle belied the anxiety he could feel trying to claw its way back to the surface of his mind.
“Wow and you sound so happy about it,” she said as she turned to him and took a sip of her drink.
“I’m not,” he replied as he joined her leaning against the counter, “but it is either Europe or unemployment. I’m too old for unemployment so I will opt for the job that no one could possibly want.”
“Oh, I see. So my grandfather is the reason for your bad luck, but you make it sound like you are an old man. What are you like 200?” she asked with a chuckle and another sip of her drink. “Are you sure you don’t want another drink? It’s bad form to let a lady drink alone.”
Killian laughed “I’m sure. If that was the case I have somehow managed to maintain my dashing good looks.”
“But you failed to maintain your youthful looks?” She tentatively ran her fingers lightly over the gray hairs frosting his temples.
“Lass some things get better with age.” He smirked as he waggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness. “I’m sorry,” Killian stated with furrowed brows, “you said he is your grandfather? George Spencer?” he questioned. She pushed away from the counter and led the way back into the living area.
“Step-grandfather is more accurate. He was my father’s stepfather. I’m Emma Nolan and you are?” She settled herself onto the leather sofa. Killian sat next to her.
“Killian Jones, former editor-in-chief of Excelsior Publishing.” This time when he put his hand out, she laid hers on it without hesitation.“Nice to meet you, Emma Nolan.” Killian raised her hand laid on his and brushed his lips across her knuckles. He didn’t let go.
“Likewise, Killian Jones,” she whispered. Her breath stuttered. She was looking at the man in front of her, dumbfounded. No one had ever kissed her hand before. He was older than her that was obvious. Sure he had some gray hairs but he was right they enhanced his looks. The beard was nicely maintained if a little thick, but what truly enchanted her were his eyes. Blue like the sea. A sea that called to her. A sea that had hidden depths that swirled with something she dared not think about, much less name. A sea she could see herself drowning in.
“Thank you for helping me in my time of need but I should get back to my wife.” Emma felt like she had just careened back to earth at about 100 mph. She visibly deflated as she removed her hand from his and looked up at him with eyes that continued to hold the anxiety about his future at bay.
“Of course and it was nice meeting you.” He stood on the sofa and held out his hand to help her to her feet.
“Likewise I’m sure.” Taking his hand, she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. He bowed over her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles a second time.
“Until we meet again, Emma.” Killian straightened and walked toward the door. “Do you know the direction of the main house?” When he got to the door, he realized he had no idea where he was.
“Oh sure,” she answered, “about 30 yds straight ahead you’ll come to the edge of the trees. You’ll be able to see the house from there.” Emma stayed behind in her little cottage retreat. She was not about to go back into the big house to go spend time with the awful man. She’d had enough of that from earlier, thank you very much. Thank god they didn’t share any DNA.
Killian finally reached the stairs leading on to the terrace that featured at the beginning of this harrowing experience. Climbing them, he shook his head at how his evening had gone. Trying to banish the thoughts of emerald green eyes from his head, he looked around for his wife. He finally found her inside the parlor of the house looking quite alone and perturbed. “Milah,” he said, approaching her, “we can go now if you want.” He reached for her hand to help her up from the settee on which she sat.
She looked up at him with trepidation on her face. “First tell me how it went.”
Killian sighed and brushed his hand through his thick hair. “Where is Robert? I think he would want to hear this,” he stated as he looked around for his friend.
“Why?” Milah sounded confused. “I think he left. He had kept me company for a while but you were gone for over an hour and he just decided to leave. What is the big news?” she asked him.
“He is the new editor-in-chief!” Killian tried for enthusiasm and failed miserably. He looked around for anyone who might be privy to this conversation but found no one. His shoulders drooped dejectedly. “Spencer wants to transfer me to Eastern Europe once the merger goes through. He said to think of it as my area. An emerging market that I am perfect for.” The sarcasm dripped from his lips as they twisted into a sneer.
“Spencer told you that Robert was getting your job? What did he say exactly?” Killian didn’t notice Milah’s eyes light up when she mentioned Robert.
“Well,” he sighed, “he didn’t say that exactly, but it also wasn’t hard to arrive at the conclusion. He would be the logical choice. And I am a perceptive man.” Killian shrugged. As the weight of his best friend’s betrayal settled on him, the voice in his head that had been silent since he looked into Emma’s green eyes started to crank up again. How could he do this to me? He was supposed to have my back! Just like I would have his if the positions were reversed. Killian shook his head, trying to rid himself of his traitorous thoughts. You’re not the traitor, he is. The voice sneered. “Come on Milah, we’re going home.”
“That bastard never said he was offered your job,” Milah complained. She could feel Killian place a calming hand on the small of her back as he steered them towards the door.
“Why would he tell you?” Killian snapped, “He didn’t say anything to me either. And I’m supposed to be his best friend!” He could hear the voice; he could feel his blood pressure rising again at the thought of Robert getting his job, behind his back no less!
Milah ignored the question. “The least he could have done was warn you,” she mumbled under her breath. She pasted a fake smile on her face as they were intercepted on their way to the door by none other than George Spencer, himself.
“Sir, I’m so sorry about the horses earlier,” Killian apologized. “Are they all right? Were they found?” He asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Oh, of course,” the man said, waving aside his concern, “Once you took off, they were quite easily brought under control. Where did you go, by the way? I sent some of the house staff to try and find you.” The apparent lie rolled off his tongue with disconcerting ease.
“Apparently, I have a phobia of screaming horses,” Killian said with a self-deprecating chuckle, “I ran toward the tree line and was able to collect myself at a stone bench I found there.” He turned toward his wife with a sheepish expression. “Anyway, we must be going. Thank you for a... enlightening evening.” He smiled tightly at his host and ushered his wife toward the door.
“Of course. Thank you so much for coming. Please consider what we talked about. I’d like an answer before the week is out.” The man’s smug demeanor made Killian’s skin crawl. Yeah, I’ll give you my answer all right. The thought rolled around in his head before he could stop it. Tightening his hand around his wife’s waist, he turned toward the door once again.
“Yes, sir,” he tossed over his shoulder without looking back. “You’ll have your answer before the weekend is over.” He stalked out the door, all but slamming it behind him.
Milah groaned as she sought out the blaring alarm, arm waving in the air as she tried to turn it off but only succeeded in knocking her phone to the floor. Turning to Killian she tried to rouse him so he would get up and turn off the alarm, but he was just dead tired, continuing to snore softly, dead to the world.
“Killian,” she said, patting him lightly on his bare chest, “it’s 7:30.” snore “It’s time to wake up.” When his snores continued, she sat up shaking his shoulder. “Killian, wake up!”
Killian gave a start, snorting, as his body jerked awake, his eyes blinking away the disorientation that took several moments to dissipate “Huh? Wha-?” He turned toward his wife, “I think I’ve earned a little break. Give me till 8?”
“Are you kidding? No! You can’t have until 8,” she screeched, “It’s Monday morning! You have to go to work! You are going to be late and you are never late.”
“What? What are you talking about? It’s Saturday!” As he looked at the disbelieving expression on Milah’s face, comprehension dawned. “Isn’t it?” He questioned. Milah continued to stare at him, dumbfounded.
“No, Killian,” she sighed, “It’s Monday morning. It’s now 7:37 am. You’ve been asleep since you went to bed Friday night.” Milah rolled over and got out of bed. Killian groggily looked on as she walked away and went back to sleep.
The following morning, Killian woke to find Milah in her robe standing at the end of the bed. “Are you going to work today?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest.
“Yes love, I feel like a new man.” He tried to gather her in his arms, but she turned away with contempt. Killian’s brow furrowed as she turned to face him.
“What is wrong with you? You sleep for 80 hrs, and expect me to just forget that? You expect me to excuse it? Are you kidding me? You can’t just abandon me like that for 3 days and expect me to respond to you when you’re ready for sex. When you want to tell me what’s going on, come find me. Until then, just stay away.” Killian watched gobsmacked as she headed out the bedroom door. Feeling defeated but finally rested for the first time in who knows how long, he turns toward the bathroom to get ready for work. Standing in the shower he noticed that he had hair growing in places it had never sprouted from. It is not like he was hairless but he certainly didn’t have hair to this extent. He tried to trim what he could and on top of everything his beard was thicker than normal as well. He shook his head. I’ve become the president of the hair club for men overnight. Finally ready, Killian left for work.
As he walked into the dreaded building, he could hear everyone’s conversations. His ears perked up but he shook his head trying to ignore it and continued to his office. Once there, he was met by his assistant Smee, who seemed to be upset with something.
“Good morning Smee,” Killian greeted the man. Noticing his frown, he inquired, “Is everything all right?”
Smee startled as he looked up at his boss. “Oh, yes sir. I mean, no sir. Good morning sir. I’m so sorry sir, I heard the news,” the man stammered, his face as red as the beanie Killian knew he kept in his desk.
“Wait,” Killian looked around, “was Robert in here?” He asked. The voice that had been silent for days as he slept, started to make itself known again. If that bastard shows his face in my office...
Smee was taken aback at the look in his boss’s eye. It was murderous. “He was sir, but that was earlier. He is the one that gave me the news. How did you know?” He asked, confusion coloring his voice. He followed Killian as he entered his office and sat down.
“It matters not.” He looked down and started editing the manuscript he had pending on his desk as Smee stood awkwardly wringing his hands. He looked back up at his assistant with a perturbed look on his face. “Was there something else, Smee?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir… I just...”
“What is it now Smee?” Killian sighed, put down his pen, and sat back in his chair.
“Did you finally get contacts?” he blurted out.
“Contacts?” Killian noticed he was not wearing his reading glasses. “Uh, no. I d-didn’t… get contacts…” he trailed off.
“Sir, are you sure you are alright?”
Killian sighed. “I am. You may go now.” He watched as the chubby man left his office. He looked down at all the work he had accomplished in just a few minutes. Normally that amount of work would have taken the entire day, but it was amazing how fast he was going through it and without his glasses too. The area where the bite should be caught his eye he had forgotten all about it. He still could not believe that it had healed completely. Not even a scratch left behind.
He got up and went to the hall and bumped into one of his coworkers.
“Oy sorry mate. Didn’t see you there.”
“It is alright. Scarlett, isn’t it a bit early for rum?”
The other man turned red. “For your information, it is coffee with a dash of rum but how did you know?”
“I could smell it a mile away.” Scarlett walked away obviously upset at Killian’s words.
Killian stood there and finally truly listened. He heard small conversations amongst his coworkers. Some work related and others not so much. The distance between him and them didn’t matter. Their talks were crystal clear.
He returned to his office. “Smee get me Will Scarlett on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Killian was in his office waiting for Smee to get Scarlett on the bloody phone for him. Sure Scarlett enjoyed his liquor a little too much but he was amazing at his job.
“Sir I have Mr. Scarlett on line one for you.” Smee had quickly followed his order.
“Hello Will, could you find me a respectable author that specializes in animal possession.”
“Sorry mate do you mean manuals on how to own a pet or animals?”
“Of course not Scarlett, animal possession or the possession of the spirit by an animal.”
“Okay, I have something for you. Anita Lucas.”
“Is she the top one?”
“Yes, she is the most respectable. She wrote The Beast Inside.”
“Good give Smee the information. And Scarlett I'd advise you to not tell people that you had a drop of rum with your coffee because we both know you didn’t have any coffee.” With that Killian hung up.
Will Scarlett looked around his office trying to find a bug or any sort of listening device. How had Jones known about his conversation and that he, in fact, had had some rum minus the coffee?
Finally, the day had come to an end. He went home and still no sign of his friend.
Killian arrived home and found a note from Milah saying she had a last minute business trip.
Leftovers for him it was then. He noticed he had an unheard voicemail on his phone and played it. “Hey, I have an emergency at work. So I have to go out of town for a few days. There are some leftovers in the fridge. See you soon.”
He ate his dinner and promptly put away some clothes that were lying around. He loved Milah but she could be such a slob. Then a scent caught his attention. It was all over her clothes and it was not her scent but another he knew all too well.
He was angry, to say the least. Soon he was out the door and headed out into the darkness of the night. He ran all the way to his friend’s home and didn’t even break a sweat.
He arrived at the large apartment complex and eagerly rang the doorbell assigned to his friend’s living quarters. “Who is it?” Said the voice on the intercom.
“It’s Killian.”
“I’m coming down. I’ll be there in a second.” Interesting his friend didn’t simply buzz him in. Killian pondered the possible reasons for the lack of hospitality. Deep inside he knew why.
A few minutes passed by and then in front of him there stood his best friend. At least that is who he thought it was but he needed to make sure first.
“Killian, what are you doing here at this hour?” Robert held his hand blocking Killian’s way. “Killian is there a problem?” still blocking his way. Then on instinct alone Killian snarled and bit him as he pushed him out of his way. He rushed up the stairs and took five steps at a time in what looked like an animalistic way,n all fours using his legs for more power, and soon he arrived at the apartment door. The door opened and there stood his wife in nothing but his friend’s opened shirt.
“Killian, what are you doing here?” he didn’t respond to her only glaring at her and suddenly turned and left.
“Milah, I’m sorry I tried to stop him.”
“Robert, I better get dressed and go home.”
“No wait, I need to know when are you going to leave Killian?”
“Robert I told you it’s complicated. I can’t just leave him.”
“Milah when we started this you said you were going to leave him and now it has been a year. I’m tired of this going back and forth.”
Milah walked away and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. She quickly dressed and rushed home only to find it empty.
Every trace of Killian was gone except for his wedding band and the watch she had purchased for their anniversary with the inscription: RG Our Time Is Now. She had given him the wrong box.
The next day Killian entered his office as usual.
“Good morning Mr. Smee please update my personal information. I’m staying at The Cygnus.”
“Yes, sir for how long?”
“Permanently.”
“Is there anything else you need sir?”
“Actually there is.” He smiled wickedly at his assistant, “call legal and find out if the deal with Spencer has been finalized. Then get me the entire list of author’s I have worked with over the years and the ones that worked with Arthur before he left. Then call Spencer and make me an appointment with him.”
“Gladly sir, why now sir?”
“The answer is simple Mr. Smee. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. Recently I was made aware I had fallen victim to conformity and I trusted the wrong people. I will not be making the same mistake again.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it.”
A few minutes later Smee informed Killian about his progress.
“Sir Mr. Spencer will see you at the Estate at noon. Here is the list of Mr. King’s authors and this one is yours.”
“Fast work Mr. Smee I’m impressed. Now take Arthur’s list and call the author’s and ask them if they would be interested in partnering with us in a publishing house of our own because once Spencer takes over he only wants to push and promote what sells and to bury the rest. Tell them we’ve got investors lined up for the startup. Oh, and Mr. Smee call Ella De Vil first.”
“Is any of this true?”
“Not yet. I’m off then.” He winked at his assistant.
Smee was in awe of his boss’ sudden alpha displays. He wasn’t a pushover but after Mr. King retired he had noticed his boss fall into a sort of submission.
In the last days, he had a twinkle in his eye as if he were commandeering a massive vessel. Captaining his own ship and by the craftiness of the requests, it indicated it was a pirate ship.
…
Killian arrived at the gate of the Spencer Estate. The security guard announced him and soon he was at the front door of the immense mansion and knocked.
Not long after he arrived he was guided to the owner’s office.
“Mr. Spencer, good afternoon. I just wanted to inform you that I will be passing on Eastern Europe.”
“I figured you would.” George Spencer scrutinized the younger man. “I believe there is more to your visit. You are not here just to decline the job offer.”
“Nice seeing you again sir.” And he walked out much to Spencer’s surprise.
Killian was roaming the grounds subconsciously. Someone caught his attention, a fragrance, one to be specific. There she was, his savior riding a horse at a slow pace.
The horse spotted him long before she did and started to get upset. He was jerking back and forth in an attempt to get away from him.
“Whoa sweet buttercup, calm down shh shh everything is alright.” She tried to calm the horse with her soothing voice. The horse made a sudden move spooked by Killian’s presence and Emma fell down.
Killian rushed to her aid. “Are you alright lass?”
“Are you crazy!?” Emma asked in disbelief as she pushed his hand away. “Isn’t it obvious animals are afraid of you? You couldn’t have forgotten about the other day so soon.”
“I didn’t think it was me they were frightened of,” Killian answered chastised.
“Really? How did you miss it before?” she rolled her eyes “Animals are in fact disturbed by your presence and now I have a bruised butt as proof.”
“I’m sorry I just wanted to say hello but since it is my fault your arse is bruised I wouldn’t object to rubbing ointment on it to make it feel better.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively.
“That is what you are going with? What happened to your wife? I’m sure she would love to know her husband is being inappropriate with some other woman.”
“I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior and for spooking your horse and subsequently making you fall on your bum. I honestly just wanted to say hello and my behavior was crude and I honestly don’t know where it came from. As for my wife that is a different kind of problem.” He hung his head in shame it is true he was behaving unlike himself and he had no excuse.
Emma noticed he was being honest. “It’s alright. Were you visiting George?”
“I just wanted to inform him I wouldn’t be accepting the Eastern Europe offer.”
“Did you get a better offer?”
“Not yet but I will.”
She looked at him closely and noticed a slight change in him. She couldn’t put her finger on it but something was different. Interesting she thought and then she was unable to stop herself from wanting to get to know him better. “How about a lunch offer?”
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t impose.”
“Come on you are not imposing and besides you owe me for the bruised bum.”
He smiled and nodded. “Lead the way lass.”
They arrived at Emma’s cottage. Killian vaguely remembered it from the other night. He heard her slamming cabinets and making a ruckus.
“Hey about lunch I’m going to have to ask for a rain check? I only have some pop tarts and a carton of milk.”
“I love pop tarts.” He responded quickly. In reality, he hated the sweet pastries but something deep within him was telling him to stay. To get to know her, to bond with her.
“Listen I just want to make one thing clear, nothing like that will be happening between us. I know you are trying to bond with me but I’m not interested. I know we’ve exchanged words and I try to be a better host than dear old grandpa but that is not an invitation to my bed.” She knew she invited him to lunch and for a moment she felt a pull to him that for a brief second she didn’t want to fight but now she was resisting it.
He approached her slowly. “All I expect is some small measure of civility from my hostess. Nothing inappropriate in that is there?”
They sat in her little kitchen table enjoying the pastries and milk.
Killian maintained eye contact with her and added “so tell me about you. What do you do?”
She quickly went on the defense. “What does it matter to you what I do?”
“Lass I was just making small talk but you are not used to men being truly interested in you. Are you? They either gravitate to you because of your family’s wealth or because of your beauty but never for you.”
Emma laughed at his analysis. “Oh so now you are going to psychoanalyze me? I didn’t know you were a psychiatrist.”
“You are an open book to me. I understand you. Yes, you’re beautiful and due to some experiences, you think men are only interested in you because of your looks or for the money. The problem with that is that you want them to be interested in you because you're you and not because of the way you look or because you are wealthy so you create walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartache. The problem with that is that because you close yourself off and you become rude, hostile, sullen and withdrawn. You are your own problem because those walls you create to protect your heart also keep love out. The gist is that you want someone to look past all those flaws and see the real person underneath. But the only reason that anyone would bother to look past all that is because you're beautiful. Bit ironic, isn't it?”
“Wow, that keen insight into my character isn’t a turn on. I’m not suddenly challenged by you and falling at your feet.”
“I never expected you to.” He answered honestly as he toyed with the pop tart he was currently munching on.
Emma smiled at him and finished hers. She finished drinking her milk as she studied him as he gulped down his milk and his mustache turned white.
“So what are you going to do? When we first met you didn’t sound keen on the idea of being unemployed.” She tilted her head as she waited for an answer.
He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth erasing the milk mustache. He leaned back and stared at her. “That is a story for another time.”
“A story for another time? I don’t remember inviting you over for another meal.”
He smiled and started to get on his feet. He suddenly stumbled down and failed to gain his balance and with him, he took her family portrait.
She rushed to her feet to help him but he was knocked out. She kneeled next to him and slowly raised his head to see if he had any cuts. Once she was sure there was no damage she got up and rushed to get him a water bottle. Biting her lower lip she looked at his features. Her hand subconsciously traced his jaw and the little scar on his cheek.
He was beautiful and she knew he was right about his deductions about her. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt to make his breathing easier, revealing some chest hair.
Killian started stirring and then he opened his bright blue eyes. They stared at each other. Emma asked “hey how are you feeling? You gave me quite the scare.”
“I’m okay” he slowly sat up as she held out her hand to stabilize him. She grabbed the water bottle and handed it to him. “Drink this slowly.”
He grabbed the bottle and took a few sips. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mr. Jones I’m starting to think I enjoy nursing you back to health.” She was smiling fondly at him.
“I believe you do enjoy it, lass. You do it so well. If I could inconvenience you once more and help me get on my feet?” He tilted his head as he reached out to her.
“Okay, up we go. Slowly take your time and if you need to lean on me.”
He did as he was told and soon they were both on their feet. “Hey, do you think some fresh air might help?” She asked.
“I would rather not risk losing consciousness outside.”
“Alright, I have a spare bedroom how about you get off your feet.” She grabbed his arm and put it around her shoulders and guided him to the room.
She helped him get into bed and as she started tucking him in he started speaking. “Would you believe that earlier this week I was bitten by a wolf and the weird thing is that I haven’t felt as full of life as I do now?”
“A wolf bit you? But they are not common in this area are you sure it was a wolf and not a big dog or something?”
“It was a wolf I don’t understand why no one believes me. I know the difference between a dog and a wolf. I was the one staring at it.”
“Okay calm down I believe you. I’m curious if this was the runt of the litter? I only ask because earlier you passed out and when we first met you were having an anxiety attack. This time it does seem different.”
He attempted to give her a toothy grin as he considered his answer. “I have no explanation for that. All I know is that I feel like somehow that wolf passed something to me with the bite. My senses are heightened-” he stammered as he noticed the intense way she paid attention to him. The woman ran hot and then freezing cold. He felt drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain.
“You say that you feel better than you have in a long time. My advice is to accept it as a gift. Hey, you should rest and tomorrow I will make you breakfast.” She smiled as she noticed he was fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Aye, I’m just afraid there will be a steep price to pay for such gift. I hope it’s more than pop tarts I wouldn’t object to some bacon.” He closed his eyes for a brief second.
“I’ll have you know that I can, in fact, acquire bacon. Just rest.” Her concern for him was evident.
Before he finally fell asleep he looked deep into her bright green eyes and said, “please don’t take this the wrong way but you are truly beautiful Emma Nolan and I mean not just on the outside but your light shines through even when you attempt to hide it.” He smiled and was lost to sleep.
The moonlight entered through the large glass door. It slowly roused Kilian from the bed; beckoning him to her side. His eyes opened, the normally deep blue eyes were amber and his jaw adjusted to cater to the canine teeth slowly becoming fangs, the fingernails once trimmed were long and sharp. He eagerly answered the call of his pale mistress and went out into the woods that surrounded the backyard of the large estate.
He ran until he could hear a small creek with the water flowing. He suddenly stopped as something else caught his attention. He sniffed to get a better scent.
Not far from him stood a deer. Innocently enjoying water from the creek and without warning, Killian splashed through the water and reached the deer in record time. He grabbed on to the animal and without remorse, at the deer's cries, he broke the fragile skin with his powerful jaw and piercing teeth, ending the life of his prey.
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His and Hers: A Dance in the Vampire Bund Fic Part 3
They came up for air when it became clear breathing was necessary. Honestly, he would have been fine just breathing her in.
“Akira…” she sighed his name, her eyes glazed with passion, his reflection in her eyes. He was sure she reflected in his as well.
“Mina… ” he called. He’d always wanted to call her that. Always wish he could claim her in all ways possible, mind, heart, body and soul.
Her eyes widened. “Y-you called me by my name. ” She sounded surprised and elated. Then everything came into focus.
He was in his bed, she was on top of him, her core pressed firmly on his erection which was straining underneath his soft pants he usually wear to sleep, and her lips were swollen. He reacted fast when he realized he wasn’t dreaming.
“Wwaah!!” He dislodged himself and fell on the floor as the princess fell back on the bed. “H-Hime-san!!”
“Ouch!” Mina dropped her back and butt on the soft bed but she was still taken aback. “What was that for!?” She glared at Akira.
“Wh-why are you–” He noticed he was still hard and tenting his pants so he grabbed his pillow and pressed it firmly on his lap. “What are you doing here again!?” He asked, the redness of his face spreading to his ears and neck.
“What? It’s a nightly ritual.”
As if that’s normal!
She kept on doing this and kept on teasing him he was at his wit’s end. “Don’t make it to be!”
“What? You obviously enjoyed it.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest and pointed at him. “The little wolf over there is an evidence.”
“Don’t call him so casually!” He protested half-heartedly.
“At least I didn’t give him a hideous name. Shall we call him Aki-chan?” She grinned.
“No! That’s weird!”
She laughed then. Geez, princess.
“Hmm. I had fun tonight Akira. Sorry to disturb your sleep.” She tood up on the center of the bed and it’s the first time I noticed the sheerness of her night dress. It’s almost see through! “I had the need to see your face so I sought you out. You seemed to be having a good dream I couldn’t help but kiss you. I just wish you remember the kiss. It was quite terrific.” She chuckled. “Get some sleep Akira, I will not disturb. Just hold me and let’s sleep together.”
She held out her hand to him.
This girl. No. This woman really have no sense of danger. She’s reckless and proud but sweet and gentle. She doesn’t even know that he’s probably very dangerous right now.
He wanted to remember the kiss. He wanted to feel the kiss. He wanted to feel her heat. She’s smiling innocently at him but all he wanted to do right now was mess her up so bad she wouldn’t even think of leaving his side. She’s offering her hand to her predator.
“What? Hurry up, Akira. The dawn will break in a few more hours, come and let’s sleep.” She looked at Akira and chuckled. “ Still wary I guess. Alright, I’ll sleep first and then you can come up on the bed.” She turned but before she could, and Akira suddenly grabbed her hand and dropped in on the bed before caging her in.
“Wha-” She looked at him startled. “Akira?”
“Hime-san, you shouldn’t really play with fire too much. I’m at my last strength here.” His eyes glowed in the dark fighting his instincts to take her, take her and take her. The beast in him was always there but its clawing to get outside right now.
Instead if being intimidated Mina smiled. “You haven’t noticed? Took you long enough to break down. I was almost getting impatient.” Mina sat up on her elbow and brought her face closer to Akira’s.
Hime-san. Hime-san.
Mina.
She bit his lips enough to draw blood and looked at him in the eye with challenge.
With a growl he tackled her. His lips crashed to hers as he gripped the sheets on both sides of her body. Mina brought her arms around his thick neck to hold herself up. Seeming to not get enough, Akira gripped Mina’s legs, parted them wide and locked hinself in place between them effectively caging her in without anyway to escape.
“Ah!” Mina uttered in surprise. And a thought passed to her brain, shit he’s too big. “Aki-” before she could finish her sentencehe was already prowling at her lips. He held her face between his hands and tilted her up, opening her mouth.
“Hime-san… ” Then he plunged his tongue inside her, exploring his conquest.
“Hmm!” Their tongues entwined, the sensation was almost too much for Mina as she scratched his back. There was his tongue erotically exploring her mouth as if he never gets enough and the his lower part of the body was forcing itself onto her core which slowly opens itself to her embarrassment. She could feel herself getting wet as Akira kept on thrusting.
Akira pushed her down the bed, untangled her arms around his neck and locked her wrists with one hand. Mina was so lost she didn’t know what to do so she panted, lost in the sensation of Akira’s lips tracing her nipples over her nightgown. As he mouth closed on the peak and pulled she bucked, loving the pleasure-pain intensity that travelled through her body down to her core. She pressed herself more to him. Her mouth opened wide and she threw her head back.
“Ahh! Akira…”
He did the same to her other breast and she shuddered in bliss. Her legs falling apart wider without her knowledge. What are these sensations? It’s overwhelming her everything threatening to shatter her. There was a moment of reprieve before she was startled as Akira widened her legs with his hands and she looked down.
How did he-!?
“A-Akirahh-ahh!” She hissed at he pressed his nose to her center. “What-what-what are you—”
With his nose buried in her underwear, inhaling her scent, he looked at her. “What now princess? Two can play this game you know.” He spoke below her.
“I-I… the game is o-over… So.. So… ” She suddenly didn’t know what to do, at lost for words but Akira took the decision away from her.
“Too late princess. Should have thought better than to play with a wolf.” Before she could protest, he bit the scrap of cotton she was wearing and tore them off of her. He looked at her first before he began his dive.
As his tongue and mouth worked themselves, she arched her back and gripped his hair with one hand. “Ah!” Was that her voice? She coverered her mouth with her free hand as Akira spoke directly to her core. “Well you shouldn’t do that princess, I think I’d like to hear more.” He reached for her hands and pinned them to their sides while she have strength, right now she was pretty much boneless.
Sensations bombarded her. Her tongue exploring her core making lewd sounds, sucking, licking, moaning. He wasn’t even being gentle about it but he wasn’t being rough either. She knew he was holding back but if this is his holding back how much more if he’s not? Before she knew it her moans were becoming louder and louder and she was trying to get away from him as a swirling sensation started in the pit of her womb. But her hips were betraying her. If she doesn’t shut up soon, the whole house are going to wake up.
“Aki–” she bit the insides of her cheeks, drawing blood. She tightened her hands on their entwined fingers.
“Come for me, Mina.”
Then everything exploded as his tongue curled inside her. Her legs which were split wide by his broad shoulders started closing in on his head. Her toes curled. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her head thrown back, she arched spine. All she saw was white.
When she came down from her high, she blurrily saw Akira licked his glistening lips, used his thumb to wipe something off the corner of his lips and brought it to his mouth. His eyes were still glowing.
Her consciousness started fading, as exhaustion wrapped itself around her like a blanket. He said something while looking at her kneeling in between her legs. He was looking at her fiercely. It was something so new but she couldn’t analyze what it was for she was already on her way to a blissful sleep.
***
Whe Mina woke up she was sore. Her back ached, her throat parched. She also felt her core was sore and sensitive but she was happy. She stretched like a cat. Then she thought back to last night and blushed fiercely.
She was pushing Akira she just didn’t know he’d follow through. It was almost like a test for her because so far, Akira had refused to touch her like an equal would touch his partner. Last night was the first. She giggled.
With the threat of the 3 clans out of the way since 5 years, she felt free except she knows she wasn’t. Not as free as she’d like to believe as long as the true blood vampire is out there, probably recuperating. But it seems like the wounds Fenrir or Akira inflected were harder to heal.
Hmm. Where’s Akira? She smiled. The boy is probably embarrassed. Oh well. She stood up and enjoyed the new sensation her body is experiencing but when she looked at the full length mirrow in his bathroom her mouth gaped open.
“I certainly can’t hide this much. He went overboard!” Her body was full of marks Akira left last night. Her inner thighs were peppered with them. Her chest, her neck, even her arms! That idiot! And because of the change it’ll take time before it heals!
So Mina sneaked to her chamber and dressed in a long sleeved turtle -neck dress despite the summer season. Well there’s not much difference in her usual outfit but she certainly cannot wear her school skirt so she’ll have to refrain from going to school.
“Geez, just what is he thinking marking me all over? Too territorial!” She was happy but this much mark is too much!
***
But days past and Akira avoided her. The markings were starting to fade except the one near her core. It seems like he bit her along the way but she couldn’t remember. Was it when she came? She blushed.
The question is why was he avoiding her?
“Hime-sama.” Vera called as soon as she got back to the bund. It was the last day of the United Nations assembly and finally they relented after much threats (couldn’t help it) and a cartographer will soon be sending her a revised world map.
“Vera, ” she noticed Wolf was also there. “Wolf.”
“You have rest days after this. Please take your time to rest. But before that, Wolf-sama has his report on the ancient civilization.”
Interested, she turned. “Did you find anything?”
“It’s an ancient civilization found in Romania, just under the oldTepes Castle.”
“What?” That came as a surprise to her. She wasn’t able to think much about it because the Royals had raided the castle and left it in ruins. She didn’t know there was something underneath. She could almost laugh how foolish she was.
“There are ancient texts of unknown origin written on the walls. We are trying to document it at the moment. We are also trying to decipher the meaning of the texts however, there seems to be no fit language that can help us unlock its meaning. For now, the laboratory is processing the data, your highness. ”
“I see. That’s a promising news, Wolf. Thank you.”
“At your service, your highness. ”
She thought to herself. Unknown ancuent text that matches no language… So how could they uncover its secret?
“Your highness, if it’s anything that is related to the change you and Akira are undergoing, then probably you two can make sense of it.” Wolf offered.
She smiled. “Thank you, Wolf.” Then, “By the way, where is Akira? He’s been avoiding me lately.”
“That, he’s in the training room.” Wolf looked at Mina and she looked back at him. Then seemingly to understand something, he closed his eyes. “It seems he’s troubled by something. Maybe her highness can help.”
She beamed at that. “Oh! What could be troubling him? I’ll go and see.” Then she briskly walked to the training room.
“Wolf-sama.” Vera called a little bit worried. “I am only concerned about Hime-sama’s happiness. ”
Wolf spoke quietly, “Whatever her highness wishes, we will always follow her. It’s up to them how they work this out especially with…this obvious…signs.”
Vera chuckled. It’s probably the wolf senses that’s bothering the leader of the greatest military under the Tepes family.
Then a thought came to her. “Wolf, who else is in the training room?”
Wolf suddenly understood. “More wolves.”
Nelly, Nella and Nero who were cleaning spotted them. “I wonder if they’re talking about something interesting?” Neri asked curiously.
“Ah, it’s probably that.” Nella answered.
“That?” Nelly recalled. And then subsequently fumed. “That!?” Nero and Nella tried to calm her down.
***
Akira just finished defeating one Beowulf. The others were already talking to each other taking a break. He gulped down the water, his mind elsewhere. Distracted. He’d been distracted for days…
His nose twitched as he smelled something.
“Akira! There you are! Oh, hello wolf boys.” Princess Mina Tepes stood at the top of the stairs leading down to the training room.
Everyonee stilled.
Shit.
She started down the stares as he stared at her in awe. The others doing the same thing. He could hardly believe it himself.
He was sure the wolves themselves noticed with their strong sense of smell.
His scent is fucking all over her!
“Your highness!” Everyone exclaimed and then stood silent. Some of them had their mouths gaping open.
“What’s wrong everyone? You’re all like fishes out of the water. Better close those mouths or flies will invite themselves in.” She smiled to them. “I’m just here to talk to Akira. No worries, we’ll be stepping outside for a while. You’re on your break so it should be fine.”
Everyobe was still speechless and all eyes turned on him. Some he felt daggers, some were just in awe and some were obviously just having fun.
Finally, one wold dared to speak. “Your highness, do you know?” Oh this on’s mischievous.
“Know what?”
“Hime-san, don’t listen to his gibberish–”
“Shush. Calm down Akira. I’m not so heartless that I would not listen to my people.” She turned to the wolf, if he remembers correctly, his name was Leo. He was just promoted to Beowulf rank recently. “Yes?”
“There’s an interesting tale in the Earth clan. That if they find their mate and bonded with them, she will smell like him so as to drive away all other wolves. Its a protective smell to know she’s taken. No matter who the mate is, human, another were clan, or vampires, she will always wear his scent.” Leo’s eyes twinkled as he relayed this.
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