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only-one-brain-cell · 2 years

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Treacherous, a Bridgerton Story

Chapter 11

Summery: their horny idiots in love your honor

Warning: smut

Word count: 2.8k

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 12

I paced around in the drawing room unsure if she was going to show, just when I had given up I herd footsteps. I was ready to come up with a excuse as to why I'm awake at this time of the night, thankfully it was Aurora. She was dressed in a white nightgown this time my eyes trailed down her body as always they stopped at her breasts admiring them as if it were the first time I've seen them all over again.

"I wasn't sure you would be here,” I admitted.

"Me either, after what happened in the garden I was worried we would have to stop."

"Hastings is many things but he wouldn't tell a soul. He would only tell Daphne if she ever broached the subject with him."

"I don't think that Daphne will want to speak about her brother and his rakeish actives."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Will you want to speak of me and my rakeish activities?"

"No, I'd rather partake in them." She pulled me down for a kiss her hands gripping onto my shirt. I wrapped my arms around her one of my hands caressing the feeling of her exposed skin on her upper back. She stared walking back to the couch stopping when her knees hit it. We only broke apart for her to lie down, I gazed in awe at her black hair cascading down her body. I gently ran my fingers through her hair my thumb massaging the exposed skin on her chest. The other fingers slowly moving the fabric off of her so I could see and touch more or her breast.

"Anthony." She gasped "we shouldn't, we got caught tonight." She's right we shouldn't,

"is that what you want? To stop?" I asked pulling my hand away.

"No, I never want you to stop."

"I spent most of my life dedicating myself to my family without so much as a thought about myself. This is the first decision I've made in years for myself, yes we should be more careful and I'm willing to work on that. But tonight you look positively gorgeous in that nightgown and it's not fair I couldn't rip the gown you were wearing earlier off."

"You will have plenty of other gowns to rip off to make up for."

"Starting with this one." I responded true to my word I carelessly ripped at the top exposing her breasts to me. I immediately dove in my mouth on one while my hand grabbed the other. She gasped in surprise then it turned into a moan.

"Anthony." Her moan was cut short, she wrapped her legs around me

"Anthony please, I need you." My other hand dipped down only to realize she once again wasn't wearing underneath and they she was soaking wet.

"Gorgeous, so gorgeous." I looked up at her as I inserted another finger, I stroked her cunt loving the face she made even bending her head back.

"Your so gorgeous like this, my lady."

"My lord, your fingers- ah fuck their so good." Her face full of pleasure and I wasn't even inside her yet, I can't think about they just yet I would soill my trousers.

"You drive me crazy especially when you walk around not wearing anything underneath."

"As if you don't drive me equally crazy, especially when you try to order me around." She gasped loudly "oh my fuck, yes Anthony right there."

She gripped my hair and lightly tugged at it.

"Are you close?" I asked picking up the pace.

"Yes, keep going just like that."

"Who's the one giving orders now?" I asked she smirked.

"I like the appeal I understand why you do it so much." She moaned "Anthony I'm gonna- she gasped and let out a moan before she could finish her sentence, her juices running down my fingers. I stepped away to wipe my fingers with a handkerchief then returned to the couch. She laid there her legs sprawled out for me her cheeks red and a smile on her face, she looked positively radiant. Is this what love feels like? I'm wondering how I'm looking at her, like she is the only women in the world that matters, the only person that matters that I would want to capture this moment forever.

"Take off your clothes and lay down" she said standing up. I was quick to follow since her last idea turned out so well. She made a show of slowly slipping out of her gown,my eyes were glued to her body at every inch of skin that got exposed as the gown came off her body. She cleared her throat and I looked at the gown in her hand, she dropped it to the floor then walked back over to the couch. My hands inching to grab her, any part of her. I didn't have to wait long she got on top of me my hand immediately grabbing at her hips. I moaned when she thrusted herself inside me. She placed her hands on my stomach and slowly started thrusting, my hands gripped her hips even harder.

"You look so good like this." I said my eyes gazing up and down her body.

"I wanted to switch it up, take charge for a change you already do some much for everyone else I wanted to make you feel good."

"Your doing a wonderful job, keep going." Aurora picked up the pace. Her hair cascading her body, her hands gripping the back of the couch.

"Aurora I'm-

"I know, tell me when to move." I didn't, I wanted to finish inside her just like this. I knew the risk would be too great, if she came to be with child then it could be the start of a scandal. We would be forced to wed and that's not how I would want to start a marriage with Aurora.

"Aurora, you need to get off." She followed through but quickly put her hand on my cock.

"Fuck!" I swore then gasped as she moved her hand up and down, it didn't take long for me to finish all over her hand. My breathing was heavy, I looked at her to find hers was the same.

"Do you" she paused for a minute, allowing her breathing to catch up and return to a normal pace before continuing "do you have a handkerchief or something I can use to wipe off my hands?"

"My suit jacket." I replied. She walked back over to me a smile on her face, she caressed a hand on my cheek. I looked into her eyes hopping that she may be mirroring the same reaction I have towards her.

"No women has ever been on top of me before."

"No? How was it?"

"Amazing, although you do need to warn me next time you put your hand or mouth on my cock, not that I would protest." She smiled nor leaving her spot from the couch, normally we don't stay to long afterwards, fearing we may get caught at any moment but this time was different. It was quite a rare thing in the Bridgerton household and I wanted her close to me even just for a moment.

"Lay down with me." She raised an eyebrow,

"Five minutes I promise you, I just... I want you close to me."

"Ok" she must have known how important this was I was rarely vulnerable with anyone but as always Aurora was the expectation. She rested her hand on my chest my hands caressing her hair.

"No women huh, interesting."

"That's what you want to talk about?"

"It's kind of sad that you never allowed yourself a moment to let someone take care of you, to give you pleasure without them experiencing it as well."

My eyes widened "Aurora did you-

"I did" I sighed

"Good." She kissed me on the lips "your always looking out for everyone."

"It's my duty."

"Yes and one you took on much too soon. I admire you, the way you take on your role, how seriously you look after your family especially after Hyacinth was born, you truly love them."

"Of course, don't all families love each other?" She bit her lip. Damn it how could I be so careless? I opened my mouth to apologize, "Aurora I-

"He hit my mother" I froze.

"She told me, after I was born they had a huge fight. He wanted a son as any man does but he wanted an heir not a daughter. They tried for a year and nothing, my mother never got pregnant again. So he hit her, he called her many names none of which I can repeat." I put a hand to her cheek.

"You don't have to say any more."

"You deserve to know Anthony, why I won't marry. After he hit her he barged out of the door, she never saw him again."

"Aurora-

"When I got a letter that he wanted to see me I almost burned it. I didn't remember his face and I never cared to. I liked that I didn't know what the man who made my mother miserable look like. But then I read it and found out that he was dying, the letter contained an address they wasn't far from where I was staying at the time so I went there. He told me he wishes I was never born, that I am a waste and that all I'm good for is marrying a man and having his children. So I looked him dead in the eyes and told him I'll never do any of those things. I'll live my life bound by what I want and not being controlled by any man. I watched the life drain out of his eyes satisfied that I got the last word."

"Thank you for telling me, I would never ask you to if you didn't want to."

"I know, it would be unfair of me to not tell you. You and your family have done so much for me and my mother I don't know where we would be without you" I smiled.

"That was all my father, he immediately planned for you and your mother to be taken care of."

"I know you don't talk about him much, even less about the day he passed but I went you to know that he would be proud of you. Of everything you've done for your family."

"I don't think he would be to proud of me right now." I admitted.

"I'd like to think your father had a few affairs of his own before he met your mother." I scrunched my face trying not to picture my father engaging in any sort of activity with a woman even my mother, the little mix dared to laugh at my discomfort.

"You find my discomfort amusing?" She nodded her head.

"Whatever shall I do with you?" I sighed, she broke from my grasp and stood up.

"I think you have a few ideas she turned around my eyes dropped to her backside. She picked up her nightgown and slipped it back on, "the sleeve is torn."

"Oops." I said not caring at all that the garment got ripped, she shook her head.

"Good night Anthony."

"Good night Aurora." I watched her walk away her story still fresh in my mind. It makes sense now why she wouldn't want to marry or bring a child into this world, I understand her anger at her father if he was still alive I'd track him down and punch him in the face myself for how he treated Aurora and her mother. Aurora rarely talks about her mother I only remember her as being as kind, carrying and independent as Aurora. I sighed knowing sleep won't come easy to me tonight I went to my room only to grab a cigar I kept hidden in my closet. I try not to smoke at home but there are times like theres where I desperately need something to take the edge off.

I sat outside on a old swing, I smiled fondly of pushing my younger siblings on this very swing. Once again the image of a little boy this time accompanied by a little girl with curly black hair and blue eyes were swinging on the swings.

"Are you smoking?"

I broke out of my dream and turned to see Benedict who seemed both surprised and amused.

"I had a long day."

"Yes tea with the Queen must have been horrible, or do you mean dancing with Aurora? Oh you must be referring to all the men who you glared at when they even so much looked at her." I let out a irritated groan, "they looked at her like she was a prized cow up for auction." Benedict didn't respond I sighed then took another drag.

"If I tell you something you have to promise you won't tell anyone else."

"Brother do you really think so little of me that I can not keep a secret?" I rolled my eyes.

"I mean it you can't tell anyone."

"You sound serious brother, what is it."

"I'm in love with Aurora, I think a small part of me has always been in love with her. I kissed her at Daphnes ball and we've been." I sighed "frequently fucking each other every chance we get. I then discovered my true feelings for her and now I'm in love with a women who I can never marry."

Benedict was silent, I was actually surprised he didn't immediately shout out that he knew it and he told me so.

"Care to say anything?"

"I know."

"Yeah I know you know I'm in love with her it seems everyone else knows besides me and Aurora."

"No I know you two have been going at it like rabbits."

"How-

"I herd you the other night in the dining room."

"Oh"

"Yeah oh, also Colin herd you today in Auroras study I don't know what you two were doing but I think you scarred him for life, he's sworn off women now.

"Yeah let's see how long that lasts, Hastings caught us in the gardens tonight."

"Is he going to tell Daphne?"

"Only if she asks so we're safe for now."

"Yeah for now, won't be for much longer if you two keep going at it on every surface."

"Ok that's a bit extreme."

"Is it?" I was silent for a moment Benedict smirked

"I will knock you off this swing."

"No you won't, because your in love."

"Oh shut up."

"She loves you too." I scoffed

"She doesn't, and that's where my problem lies."

"Really? It's not just the the fact that she boldly announced to us today that she will never marry?" He's enjoying this too much, "I'm happy your enjoying seeing my suffer."

"Stop being overdramatic. There's not a doubt in my mind that Aurora feels the same way."

"Really?" I asked

"Definitely, now why now that's the mystery."

"Shut up" I replied. It was silence for a moment before I spoke. "She told me why she would never marry, I understand why." Benedict didn't press for details knowing I would never tell him, Aurora was kind enough to trust me with the truth and I will never speak of it to anyone unless she has granted me permission to do so.

"So what are you going to do now?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I can't tell her."

"Yes you can, you may not see it Anthony but I do and so does everyone else. I see it whenever you walk into a room, whenever your spending time with Hyacinth or Gregory, and whenever you two are dancing, I can see the love she has for you."

"I can't ruin our friendship like that."

"Brother you ruined it the second you kissed her" I stood up

"Good night brother."

I walked away trying not to let his words etch themselves into my mind.

Benedict

I sighed knowing I had crossed some sort of line but it needed to be said, Idiots the both of them. The plan seems to be working, but it seems a new plan may need to be made. One that involves Aurora and realizing her feelings that is if she hasn't already.

This one may be a bit more challenging, Aurora rarely opens up about her feelings another thing her and Anthony have in common. Even when her mother died the only one that saw her cry was Anthony, she would be held up in her room for days.

Not unexpected but she wouldn't see any of us, only Anthony for weeks. When we did finally see her she went on about like everything was perfectly normal. Like she had represented her feelings and shoved them down. How these two not realize their perfect for each other I will never understand. I swear I'm gonna to loose my mind trying to get them to see that.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfic

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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

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I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know.

Paul Lahote x reader smut.

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in!

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good.

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top.

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on.

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back.

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence.

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed.

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated.

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking.

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant.

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.”

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out.

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy.

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?”

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.”

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again.

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?”

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it?

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.”

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.”

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him.

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain.

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket.

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed.

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?”

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly.

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in.

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good.

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?”

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded.

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt.

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end.

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned.

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous.

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement.

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?”

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?”

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly.

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?”

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely.

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed.

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap.

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

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anxiousstark · 3 years

Text

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

BIG MASTERLIST | KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply. "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest:

@og-baby-ob14 - @sweetest-serpent01 - @tovvaa - @jazminebrightxx - @sonnydoesrandomshit - @badgyal-barbie - @trustfundparker - @blueraindrops

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hale-13 · 2 years

Note

Psst. Hey. Hey. Can you give me the WIP rundown? 😘 Aaaaall the things!!

Menacing me on my own page? The audacity. Criminal. J A I L.

But maybe I will give you the WIP Ask Game rundown below the cut 😂

I already answered Paparazzi here for MC and no one gets any behind the scenes Big Bang except for Christie but here is the rest (I’ve got my eye on you BTW)

13 Going On 30

No idea how I got conned into this one but here is a tiny little snippet (it is rotting in my folder and I need someone to bully me into finishing it)

“MJ?” He croaked hoarsely, stumbling over and fumbling with the locks so he could crack the door open and look at his girlfriend. Michelle was seething on the other side and she pushed in around him and left him standing in the doorway gaping. He shut the door quickly and turned to look at MJ who was now standing in the middle of the room and glaring at his Spidey suit which was still in a pile on the floor.

“So this is why you stood me up,” she stated, voice tight.

“What?” Peter asked, ripping a t-shirt off of a nearby lamp and pulling it over his head. “MJ look I-,”

“Save it,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what I expected when I said we could give this one more shot. I’ll never come first will I? It’s always going to be Spider-Man.”

Last Kiss May/Ben

This was actually meant to be part of a different fic but, seeing as I am physically incapable of shutting up, it got too big and now it is its own thing.

As it turned out, Ben Parker was very interested in getting pancakes and they met at an out of the way diner with sticky floors and tables and a questionable health rating but some of the best breakfast in the city just after seven that morning. They were both exhausted from night shifts and downing coffee at unhealthy rates but the conversation flowed light and easy between them.

Ben had bounced around a couple of construction jobs right out of high school before going to the police academy. He had joked and said that college wasn’t for him, his younger brother Richard had gotten all the brains in the family and had gotten accepted to Cornell on a full ride scholarship. May told him a little about her own family – that she was estranged from her sisters who lived out of state. About her plans to graduate within a year to work ER or ICU, how she was to pursue her BSN as soon as she could.

By the end of breakfast she was smitten and it was clear that Ben didn’t want their morning to end when he invited her back to his apartment for coffee.

In the end, the coffee pot sat empty and unused on the counter while May dozed with her head on Ben’s chest. She normally wouldn’t hang around after a one-night stand but, in this case, she thought she might try her chances.

5+1 Ned Handshake

This is Hyp and Angie’s fault one hundred percent.

When MIT finally, finally, sends Ned his dorm assignment and his new roommate’s contact information it’s the height of summer in New York about one week after he graduated in the top five of his class at Midtown. He’s meeting up with MJ for the first time since their joint family graduation party to try and cool off with some Italian Ice and they’re both rushing to eat it before it melts into juice. MJ’s mouth is dyed blue from hers and Ned knows that his is probably not that much better.

Both of their phones are sitting on the table and they vibrate in tandem with email notifications. They freeze for only a second before diving on them like starving animals.

Haunted MJ

No idea where this came from but here it is apparently. Is Peter dead? Why is he haunting MJ’s apartment? The world may never know.

“Stark Industries President and Avenger’s spokesperson Tony Stark gave an update on the masked vigilante known as Spider-Man this evening,” the blonde news anchor reports, her face cut out to be replaced with a video of the billionaire standing at a podium, lit by sporadic flashes of cameras. He looks tired to Michelle. He’s wearing darker sunglasses than usual and his complexion is pale under the lights.

“The Avengers and Spider-Man’s friends and family thank you all for the outpouring of support,” Stark reads woodenly from the notecards gripped tightly in his hands. “When we have an update on his condition, we’ll let you know so you vultures can stop-.”

Colonel James Rhodes, War Machine, pulls Stark away from the podium and takes the cards from him. “We all appreciate your support,” he says, hand gripped tightly on Stark’s shoulder. “But we don’t have anything new to tell you at this juncture. Please continue to keep his family and friends in your thoughts.” He turns away and goes back to his friend. Stark is rubbing his eyes under his glasses and having a quiet conversation with Rhodes that can’t be picked up by the mics on the podium.

Michelle’s kitchen lights flicker and the temperature plummets. The stove turns on and off and the microwave starts and stops in spurts.

Seekmas Last Chapter

No except because this is going through major revision right now. Chapter 6 decided it wanted to be completely different than the way I originally wrote it and it’s taken on a life of its own. Send help.

But, fr, this is (hopefully) the last chapter and will maybe offer a little bit of resolution. Maybe.

We’ll see.

Meet The Joneses

The fic I was supposed to write for MJ week before Haunted MJ took over. From MJ’s point of view after the blip on and her relationship with her family, friends and maybe that dirtbag Peter. We’ll see.

“So Peter’s cute,” Mary-Jane had said slyly a few hours later as they cleaned up from the party.

Michelle had shrugged, ducking to pick up a napkin that had gotten crammed under the couch to hide her blush. “I suppose.”

“He looks like trouble,” her dad had grumbled as he wrestled with the cord to their ancient vacuum. “Where did he get that black eye anyways?”

“Oh hush,” her mom admonished, elbowing him gently and winking. “Don’t you remember the trouble *you* got into in high school?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Robert had responded with a smirk and Michelle mimed gagging into a nearby trash can as her parents laughed.

This took much longer than I suspected and I am facing the consequences of my actions for having so many wips. ❤️ you Oli!

#bullying on my own blog #menacing #can’t believe I have to face the consequences of my own actions #betrayal #wip ask game #no one look me in the eye

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

Text

What Doesn’t Kill You

CW: Pain, taking of medication, facial scar description

Word Count: 2,194

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Day: 5

Gage was perhaps the most difficult part of taking over the role of Overboss for Sole.

He was helpful, for the most part, in his signature gruff way, motivated by his own interests and wellbeing, for which they couldn’t blame him. He was well trained and well equipped, never seeming to get caught off guard in a fight, always quick to be on the defensive. He held his own with the raider gangs and their verbal abuse and the undermining words they threw at him. Gage, overall, was just fine.

Something about that bothered Sole. They had never met a plain person in the Commonwealth, for better or for worse. The trader that hoarded cats made a good cup of tea, the Diamond City school teacher could spin stories off the top of his head to rival Old World novels, and even Dogmeat seemed to hold a world of information in his big, brown eyes. And yet Gage kept to himself, kept quiet, and got the job done. That was it. It was dissatisfying, like an itch they couldn’t scratch; the more he brushed them off and held back, the more Sole desperately wanted to know. The more they wanted to earn their trust, and see his true personality, the person he kept locked away from the rest of the Commonwealth.

They weren’t obvious about it. Any outright questions were dodged or straight up ignored by Gage, so they’d long learned to be more tactical about their approach. Starting with small questions and working their way up. A casual conversation about preferring coffee or tea turning into a comment about sibling rivalry. And yet, as always, he was always one step ahead of them. He responded with a mere shrug when they brought up the difficulty of growing up with siblings. Simply twitched an eyebrow when they brought up a debate over which way of planting seeds was better, attempting to find out if he had previously been a farmer. Nothing.

They were desperate to know more about him, wanted to get inside his brain and unwind him from the inside. Eventually, they sat back and stopped asking questions, waiting for him to crack during the ensuing awkward silences. It was a waiting game to see who broke first.

It was an overcast day in the middle of July, the summer’s damp heat being threatened by an incoming group of storm clouds, cloaking the horizon’s sky dark gray, almost black. Gage and Sole were taking the day off for the most part, settling a few arguments between raiders and managing their plans for the future of Nuka World lounged in the Fizztop Grille. Gage’s boot-clad feet were propped up on an empty crate that once held bottles of Nuka Cola, his arms crossed behind his head, Sole laying across the couch across from him. “We should split the territory evenly so no one throws a tantrum.” They rolled a piece of mutfruit over their tongue before crushing it between their teeth with a spray of juice.

Gage watched them carefully, tensed as he attempted to ignore the pain that shot through his eye like lightning. It was sharp, spreading across his temple and forehead, and caused him to cringe. Stormy days never did good things to him.

Sole glanced up from the writing on the papers in front of them. “What’s wrong?” They swallowed the bit of mutfruit and sat up slightly to redirect their attention to Gage.

“What?” His voice was rough.

“You winced. What’s wrong?”

Gage rolled his eyes and got up, twisting his back into a stretch, and walked over to the kitchen area to grab a few Nuka Colas. On his way back to his seat he tossed one at Sole, not bothering to give them any warning for them to catch it, and settled back into his seat with a huff. They caught it on pure reflex and gave him a perturbed glare before they twisted the cap off. The ice cold bottle provided some relief from the pressing, wet heat that surrounded them at the top of the Grille.

They sighed. “Really, Gage. What’s up with you? You’ve been off all day.”

“It’s nothin’, Boss. What were ya saying about the territory?”

Even as he continued through the sentence he clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth as he spit the words out. Sole caught their tongue between their teeth and narrowed their eyes at him, drumming their fingers against the cold glass of the Nuka Cola bottle, examining him carefully. Slowly, they eased upright and swung their legs off the couch to lean forward. He shook his head. “Seriously. ‘m just peachy, keep up with the business talk.”

Sole ignored him and eased themself to their feet, grasping their Cola and walking around the coffee table to stand in front of him. In the moment before they continued what they were doing he flinched again, hard, at the electric pain that shot through his eye. They pressed their lips together and nodded when his actions confirmed what they suspected and walked around to the back of his chair.

Carefully, they reached out and gently pressed the side of the Nuka Cola to his cheekbone and temple, sporting a crooked smile when he let out a quiet sigh of relief at the feeling. They smoothed a hand over the side of his neck and moved it down to rest on his shoulder lightly. Gage lost himself for a moment and tilted his head, leaning into the glass and subsequently their hand and closed his eyes. They trailed their fingers back up the skin of his neck and ran a fingertip across his jaw, then turned their hand to brush their knuckles over his cheek. He was drunk on the feeling momentarily, before he suddenly remembered himself. “What are ya doin’, Boss?” His voice was quiet, hesitant, like he didn’t even care enough to ask.

“Trying to get you to relax, at the very least.” Their voice had teasing undertones and he couldn’t help but huff out a laugh.

Breaking the moment, the pain flashed up again. They murmured sympathetically and ran a hand through his hair before pulling away. He started at the loss of contact, disappointed, despite the alarms that were blaring in his head. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry. Gonna get you some painkillers, alright? You’re taking the rest of the day off until this passes.”

“Storm’ll have t’ break.”

Sole hummed in response and began rummaging through their belongings, looking for pain relievers Curie had gifted them before they left Sanctuary for good. Supposedly, they didn’t do much damage to the internal organs like other wasteland medications, and when they used them once to ease a gunshot wound, it had worked like a charm. Despite the fact that they tried not to show it until that moment, they had a soft spot for Gage, and seeing him in pain was the very last thing they wanted; he deserved nothing but the best.

They returned soon after finding the small, rattling bottle and tapped a couple of pills into their hand as they took the steps to shadow Gage. A clap of thunder echoed out as they held their hand out over his shoulder, tilting their cupped palm when he reached up to take the pills from them. He threw them in his mouth and tipped his head back to dry swallow them, sighing when they finally went down. He paused for a moment, weighing his options. “I’m gonna fuckin’ regret this, but do you care if I take my eyepatch off? ‘s really not helpin’ the pain.”

Sole responded with a shrug. “Of course not.”

Gage hesitated with his hands poised over the offending metal, debating whether or not he was actually going to remove it. Politely, Sole averted their eyes so as not to put pressure on him, and returned to holding the Nuka Cola against his skin, though the initial ice-cold had faded into a light coolness, hardly keeping back the heat of the evening. The air was still thick with the promise of rain, the humidity choking, but hinting relief in the distant future. They closed their eyes and embraced the electrically charged atmosphere, acting oblivious to Gage’s movements as he unbuckled the leather strap that held his eyepatch on and turned to look at them.

It was something he didn’t reveal to anyone, his eye. Admitting weakness wasn’t exactly his thing, and that’s how he saw his marred eye, despite the way Sole would scold him for it, the scar jagged and harsh against the rest of his skin, his whited-out pupil. He preferred it hidden away, like the rest of his perceived weaknesses, but God was the pain killer whenever it decided to make a comeback, usually whenever a storm was moving in.

Sole’s eyes flickered open and they examined the rapidly darkening sky with a hum of approval, appreciating the way lightning flashed in the distance, barely visible against the horizon. He reached up and removed the soda from their grip, setting it on the table next to him before leaning back into their hand. This caught their attention and they looked down at him, smile brightening when they saw he’d felt comfortable enough to go through with removing his patch.

Their other hand moved up, slowly, to brush their thumb against the bottom of his scar, feather light. When he flinched they simply lowered their hand again to rest on his shoulder for a moment before they leaned down and brushed their nose against the skin just below his ear, tempted to leave a kiss behind, but terrified to overstep boundaries. After a moment of him holding his breath in suspense, they pulled away, their hand dragging across his shoulder as they left and moved to the front of the Fizztop Grille, and leaned against the wobbly railing.

A goddamn tease, as always. It seemed there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that they were allowed to tease, to push buttons and tiptoe the line, as long as things didn’t affect their professionalism amongst the raider gangs. The day that the raiders sensed a weakness they’d latch on with sharp fangs and wouldn’t let go until the soft spot was ripped apart.

Gage reached up and pressed his fingertips against his cheekbone just under his eye. The throbbing continued and he resisted the urge to knock his head against the table, inhaling sharply through his gritted teeth. This caught Sole’s attention and they turned away from the now-murky sky and raked their eyes over him in concern. “Lay down.” They instructed firmly, leaving no room for argument as they returned swiftly to stand next to the couch.

He eased himself out of the chair with an annoyed grimace and threw himself down on the couch. He regretted it instantly. Sure, Gage had no trouble making his displeasure at being ordered around known, though he was used to it, but maybe quick movements weren’t the best idea when it seemed his eye was trying to eject itself from his head. He rested his aching head against the arm of the couch and looked up at Sole with wary expectancy.

They tossed the long forgotten papers they’d been looking over earlier to the side and reached under the coffee table, fingers searching for something. Sole let out a pleased sound when they gripped a slick material and pulled, removing a book from the depths of the shelf and plopping their hips down next to Gage’s. “Move over.” They requested, a tad kinder in tone than their previous orders.

Reluctantly, he complied, and shifted himself further against the back of the couch. Sole swung their legs up next to his, not quite as reclined, their shoulder at eye level for him. After a moment of fumbling they arranged themselves comfortably on the cushioned fabric and Sole began flipping through the pages, working their teeth against the inside of their cheek absentmindedly. They reigned victorious as they flipped to the first page of their book and wiggled slightly to emphasize their comfort. Just as they cleared their throat, Gage piped up. “Ya gonna read to me? Not twelve, ya know.” His voice was a grumble, masking the slight bashfulness in his tone.

“You sure as hell act like you are. Now shut up and go to sleep, you big baby.” Their voice had little bite despite their words.

He resigned himself to his fate and attempted to relax into the furniture, his head leaned against their shoulder as they began to read aloud. It wasn’t long before the pain medication kicked in, coaxing him into fully easing his weight against them, his eyes drifting closed. Their voice was a pleasant hum as he drifted off, just as the tension in the air broke and rain began to pour down. The night passed with the thundering drum of rain, Gage pressed into Sole’s side, their arm wrapped around his shoulders, book folded against their chest from when they fell asleep reading, head tilted back against the arm of the couch.

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fallout 4 February #Fo4f #Gage #Fluff #Hurt comfort #Oneshot #Imagine

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hopevalley · 3 years

Text

Season 8, Episode 5: What the Heart Wants

I was going to try to follow my scene-by-scene format for the entire season, but I’ve been getting a lot of migraines recently, presumably from staring at the computer too long, so I don’t want to spend all morning working on typing up the play-by-play for this episode.

Also, for what it’s worth I think this episode lends itself to plot discussion better than some of the previous episodes...at least in some sense.

And as another head’s up, it’s back to being critical for me. ;P

Storylines:

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

The Dress Shop/Rachel

Postal Service, Ned

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Carson and Faith

Henry

Elizabeth and Lucas

Clara’s Dilemma

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

This plot felt a little scattered, but for once it wasn’t the kind of storyline they foisted too much drama upon. After years of every single function possible being besieged by bullshittery, it’s a relief to see one go off without a real hitch.

The beginning scene with Robert hugging Elizabeth was sweet. I enjoyed the Canfields immensely and am intrigued by Angela’s role in the story long-term (PLEASE let her befriend Allie!). Nathan...eh, I have thoughts—but I’ll talk about that a bit soon. The actual ceremony was cute and kind of fun with the kids singing.

Neat Thing I Noticed:

Continuity? Cat Montgomery is still listed as Emily’s mother. ♥♥♥ I don’t know why but this made me really happy???

Complaint Corner:

Parent-teacher conferences should have been in this show from a much earlier point, and so should graduation have been. If there was a point to this celebration (the first year in a while anyone was old enough to graduate) that would have been a nice touch, too. It just managed to feel sliiiightly out of place.

I’ll forgive the “everyone in town goes to the graduation” thing because this is 1918...something like this would be a whole-town affair IMO. Invite everyone and have a nice get-together/party, probably on a Sunday afternoon after church but Hope Valley does whatever it wants, so...eh.

The threat of merging Hope Valley with other schools doesn’t fit in this scenario and it feels like they ripped it directly out of Tales from Avonlea which was almost rage-inducing to me.

Look, school mergers happened a lot in the early 1900s, especially around the WWI mark, but it wouldn’t be hitting a rural western town just yet. They don’t have any way of getting these kids to other towns for schooling. Where would the next closest school be? It would have to be pretty large and modern to merge multiple schools together.

*Adjusts nerd glasses* This felt forced and completely unnecessary. If anything this guy could be telling Elizabeth that they’re working on building a modern school somewhat close by, and could even have her involved in some decision-making regarding layout. Then they could bring in a “merger” storyline next season without it feeling out of place.

It mostly just felt dramatic for the hell of it, and it was boring, as was this man’s threat that Elizabeth had no right to teach a blind student. As if they’d accept Angela at a better school? As if her parents could afford top tier education for her? PLEASE.

Now it’s time for Nathan. The man chose to go fishing instead of to the parent-teacher conference? It makes him look like a tool. This isn’t about him or about Elizabeth; it’s about Allie. I understand why he didn’t want to go, but he should have done it anyway. It would have taken five minutes of his time.

His flippant attitude annoyed me because it went completely against his character as we know it, but Elizabeth’s lecturing was irritating, too. For a moment I thought we had Lorigail back on the show...

I think Elizabeth was well within her rights to warn Nathan about the effect his work has on his ward, but that inquiry took like a week AT MOST. Heck, let’s be generous and say TWO WEEKS. Allie’s concentration suffered for two weeks. There was no need to say more than, “Hey she worries about you and her work suffered for a bit during that time frame, just so you’re aware.”

I think what annoyed me about the math program thing is that...Elizabeth being a teacher would probably be VERY WELL AWARE that MOST of the parents to her students aren’t good enough at schooling to assist their kids with their homework. I dunno, it just feels out of place for her to tell Nathan that she wants to put Allie in an accelerated “program” and that Allie might need his help with her homework. It’s even more out of place when he admits he used to bribe his sister to do his work for him. Like. It’s very possible he’s not that good at math and isn’t capable of helping. (But maybe that will be a plot down the road...?)

“Or a tutor...” BITCH WHERE IS HE GONNA FIND A TUTOR IN THIS TOWN?! It’s super annoying to see dialogue like this that feels completely out of touch with the reality these people would be living in...lol. But also if she needs a tutor to stay caught up in an advanced program, she probably...shouldn’t be in the advanced program.

I don’t know how to feel about this whole thing here: “Nathan, you are Allie’s world. You’re the only father she’s ever known, and as she grows up you will always be the measure of the quality she’ll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry.”

On one hand, it does fit the situation (he seems to think everything is behind him but Elizabeth’s words are kind of a caution that 1) his actions still have an effect on Allie, and 2) every day he’s teaching her by example). On the other hand, it seems almost wildly inappropriate to bring up? At the same time, it’s probably not wrong that Allie will measure other men (friends, acquaintances, potential future romantic interests) against Nathan’s example.

I dunno. The conversation felt disjointed.

I think what they were going for was Nathan just feeling too awkward and weird about being with Elizabeth to want to be there for the conference, but...he interacted with her quite normally after the inquiry and stuff (even after she’d broken things off with him), so...it feels out of place. Like maybe this should have taken place right after the breakup and not weeks later?

Anyone else have thoughts on this and why it doesn’t feel quite right?

The Dress Shop/Rachel

This plot wasn’t what I would call a waste of time (rather, it’s worth having it mentioned now), but part of it was completely pointless and stupid. The whole Rachel getting lost thing was tacked into the promos to stir up drama, but nothing happened and there was nothing worrisome even going on. YAWN.

Rosemary’s desire to do something meaningful and different with her life is super interesting. I’m very curious to see what they decide to do with her if Dottie does sell the dress shop.

Also, Rosemary finding the book under Rachel’s bed was pretty funny.

But yeah, I didn’t really find much in this plotline to care deeply about. I guess I am pretty interested in knowing who might be purchasing the dress shop and/or if this decision is to bring someone else onto the show (a female love interest for the man who doesn’t win Elizabeth’s heart in the end, or even to bring back an old character*) or to take the dress shop out of the equation entirely... It’s also just as possible that Rosemary/Lee or Clara/Jesse end up buying it themselves down the line... Thoughts?

*I can’t begin to imagine who would be the best fit for this in this case, though. Who would have the money to buy her out?

Postal Service, Ned

Ned is just honestly so cute and fun. I love him. He’s really been doing well this season and seeing him wander around town delivering mail door to door was kind of nice.

Also, he’s one SMOOTH operator! Look at him, talking about putting a bell on the door so that he and Florence won’t be caught off-guard if they’re in the middle of...something.

Oh my, Ned. What might customers be...interrupting? :3

Continuity? Not only was the ulcer from last season brought up, but the horrid cabbage juice was, too. :’) It was a nice touch. And these two had just enough screentime to be kind of fun/interesting without also taking up too much time.

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Nathan got his vacation and Bill is in charge...again. This happens an awful lot. I wonder if it’ll actually impact the next few episodes or if it’s just here for the hell of it.

I love Bill a lot and I want to brag up his character in this episode a bit. I’ve complained many times in the past about him being written like a Grumpy Old Man Yelling at Clouds but this episode was super respectful. He got his scene with his uniform. Nobody interrupted it. There weren’t even any words. I quite liked it.

But it also felt kind of...pointless? I don’t want to judge it too harshly yet. Like the dress shop plotline, this could actually be going somewhere in the next couple of episodes.

Plus, unrelated to the uniform, it was nice to see Bill acting fatherly toward Clara. While it sort of came out of nowhere for the wedding, I appreciate the attempt at continuity there. Plus, so far this season, I’ve felt like Bill’s almost been a father-figure to Clara, Fiona, and even Nathan, so I’m enjoying that a lot.

Carson and Faith

CONTINUITY? The show finally remembered that not only is Carson actually a surgeon, but that was his original passion. It’s not that they completely forgot (S5 had him performing surgery on his sister-in-law, after all), but giving Carson a PASSION makes him a way more interesting character to me.

And also, finally, this feels like a REAL high-stakes plotline for him and for Faith.

I really liked Faith’s take on things. I know, I know, I’ve been rooting at them to break up, but the reason is mostly because they’re just so BORING together. I’d rather watch Henry twirl around in a chair for an hour than suffer through date scenes with these two.

It’s not that I’m against a doctor wife/husband team. I’m not. I just think Faith was a much more interesting and cool character on the show before Carson showed up and usurped her place (and completely overshadowed her for literal seasons). This plotline for Carson might actually be interesting. Like, a fellowship? For modern surgery? IN BALTIMORE?!

I hope this is Faith’s way of saying she wants a break and/or a break would be good for them. I can’t picture her leaving Hope Valley without any trained medical staff, let alone long enough for a fellowship...

But if this goes through, what will they do with it? Would they really write Carson off the show? To be perfectly honest with y’all, I’d be fine with that. At least it’s the type of write-off that makes a lot of good sense (unlike some of the other ones we got). I guess this is just another “wait and see” plotline which is uhh...the theme of this episode, huh? Anyone have thoughts on this?

Henry

Henry barely had any screentime, but I do want to say he is #relateable. The man is back at work for ten seconds and already exhausted. SAME.

Also, I appreciate that he’s ready to be back in the oil business. At what cost? I know people were worried they were gonna kill him off, and I really doubted it, but now I’m starting to wonder where they’re going with this exactly. Yet another wait and see moment LOL!

Elizabeth and Lucas

Some damn fine scenes for Lucas and Elizabeth in this episode. Mostly the scenic ones. :P

I enjoyed the agreement to a date. The horseback riding stuff was pretty cute.

Complaint corner? I don’t know. I have petty complaints. Even though the celebration for the kids was a town-wide event, and therefore Lucas was invited, it still felt out of place to see it brought up. Maybe it should have been mentioned as a town celebration from the start?

Then Lucas’s comment about not wanting to make things awkward for Nathan (who is actually a parent and there) makes a liiiittle more sense. I do think it was good of him to not go, even though he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but it gave off a weird vibe, like, “Look at how good and wholesome Lucas is!” Is that intentional? I’m not...sure...?

For what it’s worth I already felt like Lucas was an honorable person in this regard. He loaned Nathan money, after all. Maybe he should have told Elizabeth he views Nathan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings unnecessarily and/or if he was there he’d want to hog her all to himself or something cheesy. Hm.

My other complaints are:

Elizabeth running to the saloon would be WAY faster than all this getting set up at her house...?? Who thought this made sense?

Elizabeth’s dress looked like a nightie she bought at Kohls.

Too many damn candles.

Characters Do What Plot Dictates Even Though Plot Makes No Sense. More at 11:00!!

I have no further comments on the dress. It needed sleeves or something so it looked more like a dress and not like a nightgown/piece of lingerie.

I think the candles might have been on purpose to parallel Jack...but I hated it lol. Fire hazard? HAVEN’T ENOUGH THINGS IN TOWN BURNED DOWN/EXPLODED?!

I didn’t hate the date scene! But I never feel like Elizabeth has any meaningful conversations with Lucas and it’s starting to drive me batty.

Could we get uhhh something of substance please? It has to be surface-level nonsense on purpose. Right? RIGHT?

(And no, discussing a book for ten seconds on-screen is not “intelligent conversation” okay...?)

It’s really a shame because I’m starting to actually warm up to Lucas a little bit in this season but it feels like the conversations are just...kind of stilted and she’s not really into dating him—just agreeing to it because he’s the only option.

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...he deserves better than that.

Don’t get me wrong, by the way. If it’s part of the story and it’s revealed as such down the road, I’ll be fine with it...but I always worry they’ll just skip important relationship milestones and/or important conversations and expect us all to just accept it.

Kiiiiiind of looking forward to the rainy date scene in the next episode, though. I’m Team Nathan mostly but I’m keeping an open mind and I think I might actually enjoy it. Hopefully they’ll get some good scenes together that don’t feel like this one did.

Clara's Dilemma

Clara’s fears about running the salon without Fiona...are legit. LOL.

Also, this little bit was funny (between Mike and Jesse and Bill):

Anyway, if Clara was that worried about it, she should have just...told Fiona no? I hope it comes up down the road. Poor Molly??

I genuinely don’t know how I feel about Clara and Jesse’s involvement in this episode. I guess it was okay. I liked Clara’s scenes with Bill. I thought the idea of Clara and Jesse buying into the cafe was a nice one. Jesse having “invested” their money and lost it all, though... They did a similar plot with other people in what...Season 5 was it? Or was that the start of S6? He didn’t even say what he invested it in? But he admits the money is all gone?

I think that’s what was missing from that scene. “I invested it in X, hoping to make us more money, but it didn’t work out and we lost everything.”

I’m not going to criticize Jesse’s characterization, only because sometimes character "growth” doesn’t happen for the better of anyone involved. My biggest worry here is that it’ll be solved by the end of next episode....but I hope that’s not it.

Like, I think they did better with Frank and Abigail if we’re going to talk about a man who didn’t know how to live like he was in a committed relationship. It made more sense with Frank, too, being older and single most of his life. His bouts of selfishness felt realistic.

Jesse feels like he’s somehow getting worse and worse as a person as the show goes on. I’m kind of at a point where I hope he and Clara divorce, because he’s so damn selfish it’s embarrassing. He’s off having a beer while his wife works multiple jobs? And then he has the audacity to act like they should save money when he just blew all their savings?

I’m sure it’ll work out fine but I hope Clara puts herself in charge of the finances at the very least.

As to investing failures, I liked how they did that with Henry and Abigail. That was the kind of tension and worry that felt natural to me—like she trusted him with her money after he’d proven himself untrustworthy ten million times throughout the years, and he failed and had to uhh admit that.

Jesse straight up betrayed Clara. Which, if it’s dealt with in a satisfying way...I think can be a good plotline. I just worry about it actually being dealt with properly. That’s a huge stumbling block in a relationship. And why is he continually getting worse as a person? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Gasp... it’s almost like it’s just plot because they feel like they have to give someone something every damn episode.

Which brings me to THE FINAL

COMPLAINT CORNER (The Big Boy™ Complaints)

The show has really struggled with finding its footing. I wish they’d take notes from better shows with ensemble casts (cough cough Road to Avonlea cough) without also ripping off their storylines (cough school merges cough).

My #1 complaint at this point in Season 8 is the SHEER AMOUNT OF THINGS GOING ON EVERY EPISODE.

I want continuity, so I want to see things happen naturally over a season, but my God do we not need to have mindless pointless crap in the episode. Rachel getting “lost” for ten seconds wasted literal MINUTES of screen time that would have been MUCH better allocated to basically anyone else in this episode.

And I don’t think it would bother me so much if it wasn’t also shoved into the promo like it was supposed to matter. It didn’t matter. Nobody cares. Why was it allowed to stay in the episode alongside stuff like Clara and Bill’s conversation?

Or Lucas and Carson’s?

I think they want to appease all the fans in every episode by giving them scenes of their favorites, but what did Henry sitting in his chair accomplish in this episode? Rachel getting lost? Jack not sleeping well/missing his mom? The school superintendent?

Did Bill trying on his uniform have to be in this episode? Did Jesse and Clara’s problems have to come fully to light right now?

When every episode is formatted like this, with 10 plotlines all interconnected slightly and going on at the same time, I feel like...nobody gets the spotlight they deserve when they deserve it.

I cANNOT believe I’m saying this, but this plotline for Carson, especially if it will end with him leaving the show for a while or permanently should get the focus it deserves. But it won’t if we get tiny snips of it here and there and then BOOM decision made because Reasons.

And again, I know I’ve said before that I want more continuity throughout the season, but... the best way to do that is to tighten up the plots. Have fewer of them per season and give more screentime to the ones you choose to pursue.

Anyway, I’m still enjoying the season, but I hope they keep some of this kind of stuff in mind for next season. They don’t need plotlines for everyone in every episode. They need the plotlines they choose to write to be worth their screentime.

Sorry this was sloppily written and all that. Hopefully it makes sense. Very curious to see y’alls thoughts. Feel free to make your own posts and @ me, or reblog this or comment!

#when calls the heart #long post #season 8 spoilers #season 8 shenanigans #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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National Enquirer, April 19

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover

Page 2: Michael Douglas' short-term memory loss and frail frame have wife Catherine Zeta-Jones fearing for her older husband's well-being -- Michael once declared he'd beaten oral cancer, but harsh chemotherapy and radiation treatments have left him a shell of his former self and he has even admitted to suffering memory problems -- he was also affected by the 2020 death of his father Kirk Douglas and he hasn't been the same since his dad died -- this is a guy who cheated death with a horrific cancer ordeal, and he's had other medical issues over the years and some serious domestic dramas that have taken their toll -- Catherine always knew that their age difference would mean her taking care of him one day but she didn't expect it to be so soon

Page 3: Reese Witherspoon has ditched her wedding ring during recent outings, sparking rumors her marriage to Jim Toth is on the ropes but she feels their relationship isn't down for the count and refuses to give up the fight to keep their family together but they may not make it -- the desire to make things work is still there on both sides and they've been able to pull it all together all these years, even with personalities as different as theirs mainly for the sake of their family and they got on each other's nerves while cooped up together during the pandemic, but they don't bicker in public and that's one thing they have going for them

Page 4: Ryan Seacrest creeped out his pals when he gushed over Maria Menounos when she sat in for Kelly Ripa on Live recently -- Ryan thinks Maria is the smartest, most talented and beautiful woman to walk the planet and he can't help but swoon over her but Ryan understands Maria is happily married to TV writer and producer Keven Underago and he'd never cross the line and he doesn't want to date Maria, but he makes no secret he'd be dancing on air to have someone like her, which is kind of creepy, but he can't help it -- Ryan would never make moves on someone else's girl, but he does try to imitate her husband Keven's qualities like how funny and creative and sensible he is and Ryan adores Kelly and thinks she's great but he wouldn't mind if she takes more time off just so he can gaze at Maria

* Miley Cyrus' recent boozy night out with party pals, including British punk rocker Yungblud, has loved ones fearing she's slipping back into dangerous territory -- she was spotted at Hollywood's famous Rainbow Bar & Grill, drinking shots and beer chasers, just months after she admitted to her struggles with addiction and after fellow addiction-challenged singer Demi Lovato announced she was California sober, claiming she was safely able to drink in moderation, Miley didn't see any reason why she couldn't do the same -- her family and sober friends are deeply concerned for Miley's well-being and are begging her to stop drinking now

Page 5: Newly robust Celine Dion has her health back on track following a dangerous few years where she looked like a walking skeleton -- she has beefed up her wraith-like frame by making healthier choices during lockdown -- she went through a rough time of transition after husband Rene Angelil's death and lost a lot of weight, but lockdown has given her a chance to rest and focus on taking care of herself and now she looks 15 to 20 pounds heavier and seems in good spirits and is looking forward to rebooting her Courage World Tour when the pandemic ends

Page 6: Fitness fanatic Tim McGraw is a changed man since he kicked the bottle in 2008, but he's now hooked on working out and sculpting the perfect bod and he's publicly admitted exercise is what gets him flying high but his quest to get ripped to the max is now a 24/7 obsession and he spends hours in the gym and he's already flexing a muscular body most men would die for, but he doesn't want to stop until he's an Adonis and he works out twice or three times a day and packs his diet with energy-boosting smoothies and veggie juices and some might say he's going overboard with the workouts, but Tim craves those feel-good endorphins and he considers his workouts to be fun -- he loves the way he looks and thinks he can do better and he does spend a lot of time in front of the mirror admiring himself and tends to wear tight T-shirts that show off his pecs and six-pack abs, and wife Faith Hill loves the results -- a lot of people say he's traded one addiction for another

Page 7: Nearly six years after their bitter divorce, Miranda Lambert has finally extended an olive branch to ex-husband Blake Shelton, but she's still pretty envious over his professional success with fiancee Gwen Stefani -- last year, Blake and Gwen took home the collaborative video prize at the Country Music Television Awards for their duet Nobody but You, and also scored a Top Ten hit with their single Happy Anywhere and it makes Miranda jealous to see Blake making hay on the charts with Gwen but their success also made Miranda recall Over You, her hit collaboration with Blake, which won Song of the Year at the 2012 Country Music Association Awards and during a recent interview, Miranda affectionately blew kisses toward the camera as she recounted how her ballad with Blake was inspired by his grief over the loss of his older brother; still, Miranda also harbors a competitive streak and said she's angling to transform herself and husband Brendan McLoughlin into entertainment movers and shakers just like Blake and Gwen -- Miranda plans to enroll Brendan in acting school and Miranda wants them to act together and they are looking for scripts to make a television movie and even planning to launch a production company in Nashville and Miranda recognizes the musical chemistry Blake and Gwen share, and she believes she and Brendan can match that success on-screen -- meanwhile, as Blake and Gwen prepare to wed, Miranda is finally in a place where she can wish them well and Miranda carried a lot of animosity toward Blake and Gwen, especially since she suspected they started something before she and Blake split up, but she's very happy with Brendan so maybe all that pain she and Blake went through in ending their marriage was for the best

* Reba McEntire is reaching out to save her friend and former daughter-in-law Kelly Clarkson from suffering through a divorce that eerily mirrors Reba's own breakup -- Kelly split from husband and manager Brandon Blackstock in June 2020, and the divorce battle has them fighting over custody of their two kids as well as Brandon suing her for $1.4 million in unpaid commissions, but Reba has seen this before: Brandon's dad, Narvel Blackstock, dumped her in 2015 after 26 years of marriage, and despite initially agreeing to continue as her manager, dumped her as a client weeks later and Reba knows all too well how petty and conniving Narvel and Brandon can be, and her heart goes out to Kelly -- Kelly admits to Reba there are times when she just wants to run away and hide and Reba tells her to run away to me and it means the world to Kelly to have Reba in her corner -- Narvel and son Brandon head Starstruck Entertainment and are adamant that Kelly owes them big bucks for helping her land both her talk show and a coaching spot on The Voice, but with Reba's help, Kelly is fighting back and Reba learned the hard way the pitfalls of mixing business with family life and she's trying to help Kelly because she hates to see another woman suffer at the hands of a Blackstock

Page 8: Sicko Jeffrey Epstein has been accused of a horrific new litany of abuse by a woman who claims he forced her into unwanted genital surgery, raped her in front of her child and threatened to feed her to alligators -- the woman, identified in court papers as Jane Doe, is suing the late pervert's estate, claiming he and his alleged madam Ghislaine Maxwell, groomed her for their sordid pleasure -- in the suit, she claims Epstein drove her to pick up her 8-year-old son and took them to a lake, where he threatened to feed her to alligators, as had happened to other girls in the past, if she dared to squeal on him -- at the time, the woman said she was 26, but she looked much younger and Epstein told her to say she was 17 and he also arranged for a man with a Russian accent to perform an unnecessary vaginal surgery to pass her off as a virgin to a client and this violent and illegal procedure was botched, leaving her mutilated, in pain, disabled, and permanently sexually dysfunctional

Page 9: Ghislaine Maxwell has been slapped with yet another sex trafficking charge and it's got her former pal Prince Andrew sweating bullets -- the new indictment details how Jeffrey Epstein's alleged madam reportedly groomed a 14-year-old for him, but crucially for Andrew, it expands the time frame of Ghislaine's alleged crimes from 1994 to 2004, a span that includes her meeting the British royal in 1999 and then introducing him to Epstein and that time frame also includes the period in which "sex slave" Virginia Roberts Giuffre claims she slept with Andrew three times, charges he's denied -- the new charge also opens the floodgates on other celebrities, politicians and high-profile figures who were in Epstein's orbit at the time and the new indictment widens the pool for Ghislaine and her defense attorneys because who wouldn't want to bring down all of these fat cats and who wouldn't be that desperate?

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Rumer Willis got to the root of her gardening needs in L.A., Michael B. Jordan and Chante Adams got cozy as they shared a snack while shooting Journal for Jordan in NYC's Central Park, Heidi Klum in L.A., Mario Lopez tossed the ceremonial first dice roll at the opening of the Mohegan Sun Casino in Las Vegas, Christopher Meloni shot his onscreen spouse's funeral scene for Law & Order: Organized Crime

Page 11: Tony Bennett has a secret weapon in his fight against Alzheimer's disease: his close pal and collaborator Lady Gaga -- Susan Crow Benedetto, 54, the wife of the 94-year-old singing legend, has enlisted Gaga to help keep Tony's faculties sharp as he struggles with advancing dementia because Gaga's telephone calls have always helped cheer Tony up and keep him focused and they laugh together, reminisce and sometimes sing and it always puts a smile on Tony's face and it's great therapy -- when asked whether Tony still recognizes the pop star, Susan joked that Gaga is hard to forget -- Gaga has also played a critical role in keeping the aging crooner active and creative by working with him and they plan to release their second album of duets this spring as a follow-up to their 2014 smash hit Cheek to Cheek

* Worried friends feared ailing rock god Ozzy Osbourne is coming unstrung while wife Sharon Osbourne's career goes into a death spiral -- Ozzy has been plagued by crippling illnesses over the years, including Parkinson's disease, and has to walk with the aid of a cane and now he's at wit's end and pushing himself into a danger zone as his wife fights tooth and nail after leaving The Talk amid a racism scandal and Ozzy's been under a great deal of distress over Sharon's problems over at The Talk and he worries and fusses over her and can't focus on anything else and it's left many in his circle very concerned for his health which is fragile enough already -- the bashing Sharon received during the scandal has the aging rocker concerned she may never work again and he'll have to be the breadwinner

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- five years after Angelina Jolie filed for divorce, she's still battling Brad Pitt over custody of their five youngest kids, now she's filed new court documents claiming she has proof of domestic violence against Brad and accusations like these would kill anyone else's career, but not in this case: Hollywood is 100 percent behind Brad and the sense in the industry is Angelina has weaponized the kids against Brad but Brad is very well respected in Hollywood, and most people find these new allegations hard to believe and if anything, Angie is only hurting the children and herself

* Real Housewives stars featured in the upcoming spinoff are cashing in and Bravo will pay Luann de Lesseps, Teresa Giudice and the others a sweet $200,000 for one week's work in Turks and Caicos and that's more than double what the ladies usually get for filming, plus they get a free trip to a tropical island

* American Idol could be on the chopping block because in just seven weeks the show has lost 2 million viewers and it's simple math: Idol cannot survive with its current budget and ABC has two options which are cancel the show or cut costs, which would mean hiring cheaper judges and a cheaper host to replace Ryan Seacrest and both options are being explored

* Britney Spears' beau, personal trainer Sam Asghari, shows off his toned abs in L.A. (picture)

Page 13: Palace insiders fear Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's vendetta against the British monarchy will take a shocking new turn: they'll bankroll a lurid movie about Princess Diana's death and the conspiracy theories that suggest the royal family was involved -- the rights to the movie script are owned by Hollywood producer Ben Browning, who was just hired by Harry and Meghan to run their film company Archewell Productions -- the controversial movie centers on Princess Diana's lover Dodi Fayed's father, former Harrods' boss Mohamed Al-Fayed, investigating his son's death and his belief that Dodi and Diana were murdered because she was pregnant and planning to marry, and The Firm did not want a Muslim in the royal family

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Alabama Shakes drummer Steve Johnson has been busted on charges of willful torture and abuse of a child and was also charged with cruelly beating or otherwise maltreating a child under the age of 18 -- his arrest came just a year after he was slapped with a one-year suspended sentence and two years' probation after pleading guilty to menacing his ex-wife Whitney Lee, who called him mentally unstable -- Johnson helped the Shakes score three Grammys in 2016 for their album Sound & Color but the band has been on hiatus since singer Brittany Howard started a solo career in 2018 and Steve was lost after that; he went from playing in front of 50,000 people to playing in bars again -- even if the Shakes reunite, it's highly unlikely Steve would be invited back -- Steve remains in county jail awaiting his court date and his attorneys said Mr. Johnson maintains his innocence

* Danny Masterson and his lawyers believe they are victims of anti-Scientology bias and cannot get a fair trial in his Los Angeles rape case -- celebrity attorney Tom Mesereau, who successfully defended Michael Jackson against child molestation charges two decades ago, claimed his client has been treated unfairly because of his ties to the church, and that the police or district attorney's office leaked damaging details of the case -- Danny and his lawyers feel persecuted and that everybody in Hollywood who isn't a Scientologist is after them -- LAPD Robbery and Homicide Division Capt. Jonathan Tippet said his organization is keeping a tight lid on all information surrounding the case to ensure Masterson gets a fair trial

Page 16: Mormon church officials are being accused of corporate greed for using members' charitable donations to secretly create a $100 billion tax-free fund -- James Huntsman, the son of a prominent Mormon family, is suing the church for fraud, claiming donations solicited to finance charity work were actually used to fill church coffers -- the church boasts at least 15 million members worldwide, including celebrities like Gladys Knight, Donny and Marie Osmond, Katherine Heigl, Julianne Hough, Christina Aguilera, Ryan Gosling, Amy Adams and Aaron Eckhart and many could have tithed money that ended up in the tax-free fund

Page 17: Jen Shah of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City was recently fingered by the feds as the bogus businesswoman behind a multi-state fraud scheme dating back to 2012 -- the Bravo blowhard, known for her extravagant parties, designer outfits and extensive entourage, and her first assistant Stuart Smith were arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit wire fraud and conspiracy to commit money laundering -- the U.S. Justice Department alleged the Park City resident and Smith of Lehi generated and sold lead lists of innocent individuals for other members of their scheme to repeatedly scam, and claimed the greedy creeps defrauded hundreds of victims -- the terrible twosome targeted older adults and computer illiterate folks by using both telemarketing and in-person sales teams to peddle nonexistent online services and then fight the refund efforts of wronged consumers -- if convicted, Shah and Smith each face up to 50 years behind bars

Page 18: American Life

Page 20: L.A. County Sheriff Alex Villanueva triggered a cover-up scandal when he revealed his investigators determined why Tiger Woods drove off a California cliff, then refused to explain what happened, citing the golf legend's privacy -- Villanueva said the black box in the Genesis SUV that Tiger was driving when he flew off a suburban L.A. highway in the early morning helped determine the cause

* Hollywood Hookups -- Bethenny Frankel and Paul Bernon engaged, Melissa and Joe Gorga appear to have reached the finale of their marriage, Fernanda Flores and professional boxes Noel Mikaelian dating

Page 21: Britney Spears said she broke into tears after seeing bits of the new documentary about how she has been in the grips of a conservatorship for years, saying she was embarrassed by the light they put her in and she cried for two weeks and still cries sometimes

* Generous Hollywood legend Dick Van Dyke put a happy face on job seekers in Malibu when he handed out fistfuls of cash -- Dick was spotted withdrawing bills from a bank before driving to the Malibu Community Labor Exchange, a nonprofit that helps unemployed locals find day jobs and he stayed in his car as he handed out money to masked folks who were lined up to look for work

Page 22: The late Aretha Franklin left behind a royal mess of paperwork, including a newly discovered fourth will that has thrown her $80 million estate into fresh turmoil -- the eight-page document, titled The Will of Aretha Franklin, was apparently drawn up not long before her death in 2018, and was recently found among the files of the singer's onetime attorney Henry Grix along with the paperwork describing the terms of a trust but both items are stamped draft and neither has Aretha's signature but Michigan law changed seven years ago, and it made the admissibility of a document like this more flexible -- currently there's a bitter beef among Aretha's four adult sons over how their mother's assets should be divided

Page 23: The battle over Prince's $300 million fortune rages on, and the late pop star's siblings, and legal heirs, fear there won't be anything left after lawyers, accountants, administrators and the IRS take their cut -- five years after he died from a fatal fentanyl overdose without leaving a will, an avalanche of deals and court hearings have left his massive cash stash in limbo -- sadly Prince's distrust of lawyers and other professionals now means that millions will be spent paying those same people to try to sort out the mess he left behind and this could go on for a decade

Page 26: Weird Body Language -- stars cope with bizarre deformities -- Denzel Washington, Steven Tyler, Ashton Kutcher, Matthew Perry

Page 27: Lily Allen, Mark Wahlberg, Karolina Kurkova, Scar Service -- Tina Fey, Padma Lakshmi, Joaquin Phoenix

Page 32: Health Watch

* Ask the Vet -- Watch out for xylitol

Page 34: Just months after John Travolta's beloved wife, Kelly Preston, passed, the actor has been shattered by another death in the family -- his nephew Sam Travolta's badly decomposed body was found in his Wisconsin apartment last September, weeks after he died from a suspected heart attack -- John has suffered through so much loss and Sam's death was another huge blow but he's strong and has a deep faith in Scientology and the church brings him solace and comfort

Page 36: Shark Tank star Barbara Corcoran has stepped up to get a tenant in one of her buildings back on his feet -- Barbara and building co-owner Alex Rodriguez came under fire after Ryo Nagaoka's possessions were reportedly tossed while he was hospitalized with COVID-19 and when Ryo got home he found only his piano and pet tortoise in his cleaned-out crib -- emptying Ryo's apartment was necessary because it had become a health hazard and had a biocleaning crew scrub it -- Barbara donated $12,000 to a GoFundMe page for him, while A-Rod has seemingly not yet contributed anything and Barbara also said the building's management company has renovated Ryo's apartment

Page 38: Beloved game show host Peter Marshall made a miraculous recovery from COVID-19 to celebrate with friends at his 95th birthday party -- Peter was in and out of the hospital for ten weeks and he was at death's door and doctors didn't give him much of a chance but Peter beat the odds to enjoy a Zoom party attended online by Leslie Uggams, Loni Anderson, Sandy Duncan, Ruta Lee, Karen Valentine, Rich Little, JoAnne Worley, Jack Jones and more

* Accused sex freak Armie Hammer's career is in the crapper and he's beginning to believe that's where it will stay -- the kink king was fired from the thriller Billion Dollar Spy amid sexual assault allegations and the release of social media messages claiming he has dark fetishes including cannibalism -- Armie has already gotten to boot from the movie Shotgun Wedding and the series The Offer, and more trouble may be on the horizon: Armie was accused of sexual assault by a woman called Effie, who alleged the actor violently raped her and Armie's attorneys issued a statement denying the claims, saying Effie's own correspondence with Mr. Hammer undermines and refutes her outrageous allegations -- Armie has been keeping a low profile at a Caribbean resort, but fears his entire career is in trouble

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Carrie Underwood

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unabasheddinosaurkitten · 3 years

Text

Rise Of Orthros

Chapter 5

{~~}

Amelia was tending to Ethrinria when someone grabbed her forearm pulling her backwards, Amelia screamed and tried to fight back only for 3 grown men to hold her arms. "Let me go... father wouldn't approve of this," she growled.

One of the men chuckled, "Oh sweetheart your father asked us to do this."

Amelia cried watching as Ethrinria was forced down with iron ropes, a screeching roar left Ethrinria's mouth. Amelia watched as the sight if Ethrinria kept getting smaller and smaller until she was dragged through the town with people spitting on her and shouting.

"Traitor!"

She wasn't a traitor, how could she be? She was just different than the rest. "Where are you taking me?" She asked, fear set into her body as she watched her friends turn their backs on her.

The four men who were pulling her through her to the ground as they got to a stand that was standing out front of the church with a priest standing there with a book, two pastors standing beside him. Amelia tried to fight when she stood up, only for one of the men to grab her hair making her scream out and clenched her teeth together.

"Don't make this any harder, then it has to be," he whispered in her ear.

She struggled as two of them brought her closer to the priest and pastors; chaining her hands to the cuffs that connected to the floor. One of the men lifted her chin witnessing the tears building in Amelia's eyes.

"We are going to enjoy this," he smirked and stepped back allowing Richard, Teresa and Toby to step forward.

Amelia looked at her family who weren't paying attention to her, Richard nodded towards the priest making her look up to see him growing nails. "No... no!" Amelia cried.

"Amelia Rebecca Jayne you have been charged with treason against your family and your people. Not only have you ignored our rules you've also befriended a dragon. After this, you will be nothing but a shell condemned to the life of slavery," The priest spoke.

"Please mother don't let them do this," Amelia pleaded her mother who looked away from her facing another direction.

"Ég kalla til þín, ég kalla saman púkana í undirheimunum til að taka á móti þessum stelpum anda, hamingju og sál það sem eftir er ævinnar. Ég kalla til þín. Ég kalla til þín," the priest spoke as he walked up behind Amelia.

Amelia looked around as everyone stared at her with hatred in her eyes. This had to be the end for her, she was going to lose herself in front of everyone here. Tears were streaming down her face as she took her last glance at the sunset, the priest placed his hand onto her back; Amelia whimpered as she felt the priest land his hand on the small of her back.

The priest slowly wrote djöfull into the small of her back, Amelia screamed out as pain seared through her body. She was unable to move and when she tried to move the pain would increase; Amelia tilted her head screaming out. It felt like her insides were being ripped out of her skin.

The mages watched on as Amelia was being tortured in the harshest way possible, some were disgusted due to the fact this had killed Adriana. Amelia gasped for air as it was being sucked out of her lungs, she could feel herself growing weaker by the second. Her eyes began to droop and her body sunk to the floor, she heard the sound of Ethrinria's screeches making her look up to see her flying in the air and charging towards the priest.

{~~}

Amelia screamed as she sat up, her breathing was laboured and her body felt numb, did she just have a flashback? Her body was filled with so much emotion she didn't know if she should cry or punch something. Amelia flinched as the bedroom lamp turned on; she looked over to see Hunter was sitting up and rubbing his left eye.

"Are you alright? Amelia?" Hunter asked, he felt the blankets move earlier that night and peered over to see Amelia sleeping next to him.

He never minded her warmth, there were a few times they've slept in the same bed and now he doesn't care. Amelia didn't respond as she began to cry, her hands covered her face as she wept, Hunter didn't say anything, he just gently wrapped his arm around her right shoulder and pulled her closer kissing the top of her hair.

He didn't realise her coming back here would make her either have a flashback or nightmare, considering what she confessed this morning; Hunter thought it would be a flashback.

"Just slow and deep breaths, follow my breathing," he instructed.

Amelia nodded and proceeded to try and smooth herself down, that was one memory she didn't want to relive. Hunter laid back on the bed with Amelia following, gently placing her head on his chest. Hunter grasped her hip tightly before he gently kissed the top of her head once again. The sound of his heartbeat helped Amelia relax. Her eyes closed at the rhythm of his beating heart.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hunter asked as he gently playing with her hair with his free hand, he didn't want to push the issue but he also needed to know so he could help.

Amelia took a deep breath before exhaling once more, "Just a flashback to the day my father wanted to take my life again. He wanted me to be a shell," her voice was barely a whisper but Hunter heard it all.

Hunter still didn't understand why her father would even consider trying to do something like that. It was known in the world for that to happen but that was always too bad people, those who've murdered and killed. Not to a person who wanted to be different, his hatred for her family grew stronger every minute and all Hunter wanted to do was just walk away and let them fight this themselves.

"My parents aren't like elf parents, they are very strict on what we have to follow and what we can't do and since I always disboybed my father. He had enough and thought he could turn me into a living shell but Ethrinria saved me again," Amelia told, she needed everyone to know that her parents weren't like everybody else.

Hunter yawned as he reached over and turned off the lamp and the two of them were met with darkness, Amelia slowly began to close her eyes yawning as she did.

"Goodnight Amelia," Hunter whispered before his eyes closed once again, the both of them falling inside a deep sleep.

The next morning Amelia was up at the crack of dawn, she decided to make everyone breakfast which was just bacon, eggs, fruit and pancakes. She cracked the egg on the surface of the bench so the shells wouldn't go into the egg before placing them in the pan.

Amelia collected the plates from the cabinet above her setting them out on the dining table while she grabbed a hold of a large tray where she could place the food onto. The long silver tray was soon filled with bacon, eggs, fruit and pancakes. She walked over towards the dining table and placed the tray in the middle only to look up and see Hanna and Hunter walking in.

"Smells great Amelia," Hanna commented as she took her seat at the table.

"Thank you, please help yourselves. I will finish setting up," replied Amelia as she turned back around grabbing the bottle of orange juice from the fridge placing it on the table with four glasses.

"So Abigail stayed over? Why?" Hanna asked as she placed the bacon and eggs onto her plate.

Amelia didn't want to disclose so much as it wasn't her place, "She just didn't want to go home. Before you ask why it's not my place to stay."

Hanna didn't reply but looked up at Amelia questionably, it really should have been Hunter's decision on who can stay in the house.

"If you allow Abigail? Why aren't you allowing others? You seem to trust Abigail" Hanna spoke as she finished her pancake. Hanna didn't like the way Amelia was getting too close to Abigail, she doesn't know them yet.

Amelia stared at Hanna for a few moments trying to think of what to say but no words she could think of would justify what she wanted to say, Amelia sighed softly before shaking her head, Hunter gave Amelia a small smile, "Amelia has her reasons Hanna, respect it please," Hunter said.

Hanna was about to reply when Abigail walked in, her hair was a mess and her clothes were a bit lopsided on her body.

"Please feel free to eat as much as you want," Amelia spoke before she sat down and served herself something to eat. It wasn't much as she didn't feel like eating after her flashback last night, her body was still numb from it all. Amelia slowly munched on her fruit and bacon taking small bites.

The tension between the table was thick as they ate in silence, Amelia slowly stood up when she finished placing her dish on the side, "I'm going to tend to the dragons, meet me at the east side of Gandor in 30 minutes."

She didn't say anything else before heading outside seeing Ethrinria open her eyes, Amelia didn't say anything she just cuddled into Ethrinria's neck; gently stroking her scaled face. In the dining room Hanna was looking at Hunter for answers.

"Why is Amelia acting off? I know she said that her father tried to kill her but surely that can't be the only reason right?" She asked.

Hunter cleaned his mouth with a serviette, "It's not my place to say Hanna. But you for one know that Amelia doesn't trust anyone unless she can tell they have good intentions."

Abigail listened to the two of them talk before butting in, "Hanna... what happened to Amelia was an awful thing and no one would want to relive or live what she went through. She stared at those she thought cared while they spat on her and cheering them on for trying to kill her, if it wasn't for her dragon Ethrinria, Amelia wouldn't be who she is, in fact she would be a living shell with no emotions left."

"How do you know this?" Hanna asked.

"I was 10 when I witnessed Amelia getting tortured to death, the ritual they used was called djöfull, it was believed that those with good hearts worked for djöfull or where them. Amelia inspired so many of us, even though we wanted to help, we could not as we all would have been killed," Abigail explained as she licked the bacon from her teeth.

Hunter grabbed his plate and stood up from the chair placing it on the sink before he went to check on Amelia, he witnessed all the dragons laying beside her while she rubbed their scales gently. He walked towards her, keeping his distance and admiring her from afar, she has been through so much, yet she doesn't let that break her. It makes her stronger.

"Amelia are you alright?" Hunter thought he would make himself known.

Amelia looked up to the sound and smiled gently seeing as it was Hunter, "Yeah I'm fine, just want to get this over and done with so I can leave."

Hunter was about to reply when he saw Teresa walking over to them, she had something in her hands like a letter, "What do you have there Teresa?" Hunter asked.

Teresa handed Hunter the note, "It's our last warning. They've said to be on the east shoreline of Gandor, they are getting ready to attack tonight."

"I don't get why you aren't fighting back? It's all Richard and Toby care about. Letting people know not to mess with them, what's changed?" Amelia asked.

"We've seen what they can do, they burnt down villagers" Teresa pleaded.

"So have you? You've killed thousands of innocent people and dragons and for what?" Amelia was angry, how could Teresa just change now? Surely there was something else going on.

This didn't feel right to Amelia, something was telling her that the worst is yet to come. Teresa stared up at Amelia once again, "Please Amelia, come see your father. He will tell you what he has seen, he promised not to harm you, your friends or your dragons."

Amelia let out a huff as she glared at Teresa, "Richard isn't my father, he gave away that title he tried to kill me twice for that matter. I still carry that mark" she stood up and took off her shirt showing her mother the word djöfull that was still thick into her skin. "This is the love he, you and Toby gave me the day you watched them try and kill me."

Hunter couldn't believe his eyes, he felt his eyes water as he had seen that mark on her back, he felt sick to his stomach, Amelia slowly put her shirt back on turning back around to face Teresa once again, she felt Hunter's hand grasp gently with hers as he stood beside her.

"Teresa... Amelia will help you but no requests of seeing her will be made, she is still traumatized from that day. You are lucky she hasn't left yet, if Richard wants to see her then he's got to come here where we can sit beside Amelia and keep her calm" Hunter explained, after finding Amelia in her bed explained why he heard murmuring from her some nights and the pain screams she did.

Teresa looked around and gulped, "Richard has changed a lot since he was forced to exile you Amelia... He's filled with pain and hatred in himself and Gandor itself. Richard hasn't got much time left to live Amelia... Please."

Amelia scoffed once again and wiped away a fallen tear, "He was forced. No he wasn't, he tried having me killed when I saved Ethrinria. I was 5 when he put the first attempt on my life but when he realised that Ethrinria had become close to me he backed off and waited until he gained her trust as well as mine back. He ripped me away placing shackles on my arms and let me watch my so called friends and family members laugh at me and throw things at me."

Amelia took a deep breath to calm herself down as her eyes began to shine a light pink colour, she turned away from Teresa. She couldn't handle this, she came here to save them not rekindle with her family. Hunter rubbed Amelia's back gently.

"Just deep breaths Amelia... I know it's hard," Hunter whispered as he placed a kiss on her hairline as he pulled her into a hug. "Be strong, be who you are not who they want you to be."

Amelia wrapped her arms around Hunter's waist gently taking a few deep breaths, she felt Hunter lift her chin up with his free hand smiling gently. "There we are... Perfect," he whispered as he witnessed the pinkness in her eye slowly fade. He remembers Amelia telling him to always help calm her down if she gets too wired up.

Amelia looked at Teresa once again and cleared her throat, "I will meet up with Richard but only if you agree that Abigail gets to come with us when we leave. But if I find out you have been lying to us about why we are here, you are going to wish that you never had me?" She warned.

Translations: Ég kalla til þín, ég kalla saman púkana í undirheimunum til að taka á móti þessum stelpum anda, hamingju og sál það sem eftir er ævinnar. Ég kalla til þín. Ég kalla til þín- I summon thy, I summon the demons of the underworld to take hold of this girls spirit, happiness and soul for the rest of her life. I summon thy. I summon thy

djöfull- demon

#fantasy #fantasynovel #dragons #dragonriders #action #romance #adventure #mage #elf #troll #goblin #youngadult #newadult

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quickspinner · 4 years

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Hey Gorgeous - Under Your Skin 17

The club was crowded, but Marinette found a table, and waited for Luka to find her. She wasn’t sure how he always managed to find her in a crowd, but within minutes he was beside her, oblivious to the jaws that dropped as he walked by in his tight jeans and the shirt she’d made for his birthday, perfectly fitted and artfully ripped, with his band logo loud and proud on the front. He looked fantastic in it and she wished she could upgrade his whole wardrobe. Luka might wax poetic about her beauty but he was a damn fine specimen himself in her opinion—an opinion that had been shared by several other girls she’d passed on her way into the club.

“I’m glad you made it,” Luka grinned, taking her hands as she got up to greet him. “I missed you, babe.” He kissed her cheek, and then her shoulder. “You know what these backless shirts do to me,” he sighed, slipping one hand around to stroke her bare back lightly.

“I know,” she said cheekily, leaning into him. She’d chosen the slim pants and glittery red halter top, and worn her hair up so her neck was exposed, expressly to make it as hard for him to keep his hands to himself as possible. They hadn’t been able to see each other much during the break and she was hungry for his touch. “How long until your set?”

“I only have a few minutes,” he said, regretfully, waving over a short, dark-haired man with a cheerful face. “I just wanted to introduce you to—Hey, Evan, this is Marinette. Marinette, Evan. He’s probably one of my oldest friends and the only one that always kept in touch no matter how often mom dragged us across the world.”

Evan set his beer on the table and offered his hand with a wink. “I'm here to embarrass him.”

“H-hello,” Marinette smiled, shaking his hand. “Nnnice to mmmeet you.”

“Likewise, Luka’s been talking about you nonstop. Here, I brought you a drink." He set a cocktail in front of Marinette but before she could say anything a hand closed over the top of the glass.

"Don't drink that," Luka said sharply, sliding it away from her. "Never drink anything you don't see made in front of you."

"Luka," Evan complained, "You're going to make her think I'm a creep."

Luka rolled his eyes, picked up the drink, and downed half of it. "I trust Evan with my life," he told her, putting the glass back down on the table with at thwack. "And Juleka's. And you still shouldn't drink anything you don't see made in front of you. And you—" He pointed at Evan warningly. "Have heard me give this speech to Jules enough times to know better."

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot," Evan sank down in a chair, pouting. "I was excited. We haven’t been able to hang out in ages and from the way you talk about her, I was pretty sure you were dating Wonder Woman.” He grinned. “She’s a little short for an Amazon though.”

Luka snorted and shoved him down into a chair. “Get used to it,” he told Marinette. “He only gets worse with time. If you need to kick his ass, don’t hold back on my account.”

“You’re such a good friend, Luka,” Evan laughed. “Supportive, caring—“

“Happy to call you on your bullshit,” Luka interjected with a grin. "Come on, Gorgeous.” He tilted his head toward the bar. "Evan can hold the table while we get you a drink. Victor doesn't know nearly as many embarrassing stories about me, anyway."

Giggling, Marinette followed him to the bar and let him buy her a fruity cocktail that was more juice than alcohol, just like she preferred. “Do me a favor, keep an eye out for my girl tonight?” Luka said as the bartender mixed the drink.

“Sure thing, Luka,” Victor said, sliding the glass across the bar to Marinette.

“I c-c-can t-take care of mmmyself,” she grumbled as she picked it up.

“I know,” Luka cupped her cheek. “I just feel better if I know Victor’s watching your drinks. He knows all the tricks. There’s a lot of people here tonight and I want you to be safe.”

He walked her back to the table, glanced around and then leaned close. “I know how you feel about public kissing but can we make an exception this once? I don’t like the way the sharks are circling,” he said low in her ear, eyeing a couple guys at the next table who were staring rather openly at her ass. “I know you can take care of yourself, but your dad’s only just warming up to me and I don’t want to explain to him why I had to bail you out of jail for breaking some jerk’s arm.” He grinned. “Not to mention I just really, really want to kiss you. You’re so beautiful, Marinette.” Marinette set her drink down and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, and he swayed in place a little, eyes going half-lidded for a moment.

Marinette loved her effect on him. He put his hands on her hips and squeezed and she bit her lip. She loved his effect on her too. “It’s not going to be much of a rule if we keep making exceptions,” she teased, and then he hit her with those soft blue bedroom eyes. “But okay,” she finished, a little breathlessly, and he wasted no time bending to claim her mouth, both hands sliding up to her back, one going high enough to stroke the back of her neck the way she liked. Oh, she’d missed this so much. She tightened her arms around his neck, enjoying the gentle way he cradled her even as he passionately staked his claim. He made it easy for her to be bold because she always felt safe with him.

“Sorry for going all caveman,” he panted when they parted, “But hopefully that’ll make some of ‘em think twice. We’ll find somewhere private later and I’ll be more thorough, I promise.”

“Mmm,” Marinette said dreamily, cuddling up against his chest. “I don’t mmmind this once. I’m happy to send a message to all those g-girls I passed mmmaking plans to hit on the hot guitarist playing t-tonight.” She felt his laugh rumble in his chest and smiled.

Luka squeezed her close and then sighed, letting her go. “I have to go, Gorgeous, they’re going to want me on stage in a minute. And as much as I love the music we’re making, I do kinda have a commitment.”

“I kn-know,” she sighed, pulling a compact out of her purse to fix her lipstick.

“We’ll have a break halfway through our set, I’ll try to come find you—what—”

He cut off in a small whimper as Marinette, a fresh coat of red on her lips, rose up on her toes and caught his collar. She moved it aside and laid a kiss just below his collarbone, leaving a red lip print behind. She let his shirt settle back into place to cover the mark.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re killing me, Gorgeous.”

“Just mmmaking sure you don’t forget to who’s w-waiting for you.” Marinette winked.

“Babe,” he said tenderly, all the teasing gone out of his voice. “I would never. You know that, right?”

Marinette smiled as he kissed her temple. “You b-better go, J-j-juleka’s glaring,” Marinette said, giving him a little push, though she really just wanted him to fold her up in his arms and kiss her all night.

“Right,” he sighed. He kissed her forehead. “Don’t believe anything Evan says about me.” He turned to elbow his way through the crowd to where Juleka was waiting for him. Marinette giggled when Juleka grabbed his arm to keep him from going on the stage, and wiped his face roughly with her sleeve before she let him go up the stairs.

Then his words sunk in and she whirled to see Evan grinning at her over the rim of his beer, clearly having seen the whole display, and she turned as red as her shirt as she slid back into her chair.

“Well,” Evan chuckled, “That explains the constant shit-eating grin he’s had lately.”

@thethirdwheelfriend @mystery-5-5

#hey gorgeous #hey gorgeous 2 #campus delivery boy luka #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #fics #ml fics #lukanette fics #quickspins

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unchartedterritoria · 4 years

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Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 30

*NEW CHAPTER*

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5* Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13 * Chapter 14 * Chapter 15 * Chapter 16 * Chapter 17 * Chapter 18 * Chapter 19 * Chapter 20 * Chapter 21 * Chapter 22 * Chapter 23* Chapter 24 * Chapter 25 * Chapter 26 * Chapter 27 * Chapter 28 * Chapter 29

As always, you can read the story thus far on A03 HERE

Tags: @jodiereedus22, @shambhalala, @missdictatorme @bechobbi

Reviews and comments are always appreciated!

The heels of Faith's shoes dragged along the stone floor, kicking up small dust clouds of sand and dirt behind her. Her head lolled back, her strength all but gone, barely able to open her eyes on her swollen face. Through puffy slits, she saw nothing but the gray ceiling of the hallway above her pass by. A set of large hands were stuffed under each armpit, which was each attached to a large, burly man.

Oh look, more of the goon squad, Faith thought to herself. Her lips began to form a smile, but the broken skin of her lips and cheeks made her stop, close her eyes and wince, trying to hide a small whimper under her breath.

"It's alright, Miss Faith, we've reached your accommodations for the night," The big man on her right said without malice or anger, his voice thick like Georgia peach syrup. The light began to darken as the hallway closed in. Faith opened her eyes to see herself being dragged through a narrow doorway, under a familiar sign.

Whoso Entereth Here Leaveth All Hopes Behind.

I get to spend the night in Samuel Mudd's cell.

Deluxe accommodations.

The burly men brought Faith to the far wall of the small cell. They took care in putting her down, propping her up against the damp walls, and set down a small juice box next to her before retreating back through the doorway. The heavy wooden door closed solidly, limiting the fading daylight to a minuscule hole in the masonry that served as a window.

Faith felt the blood trickle down the back of her throat, her head tilted back against the wall.

You're wrong. I know you're wrong.

This was all that she could repeat, over and over again until her throat was dry and voice crackling through the tears as Jasper revealed to her what Sully had revealed to Sam that same night.

"My dear, I have absolutely no reason on this Earth to lie to you. I don't believe in lies; it blemishes one's character."

Jasper clasped his hands behind his back while he paced in front of Faith, looking like a prosecutor attacking a witness on a stand. "Was he not the one to urge you onto this little adventure? Was he not the one who greedily stared at that Bible every time it saw the light of day? Was it not he who talked you into promising it to him in exchange for information? And was he not the one that just so happened to gloss over his time in Central America while bragging about his past incarcerations? Isn't it all just a little too...coincidental?"

The sentences fell heavily, their weight compounded upon her, adding to the brokenness that Jasper had tortured into Faith all afternoon.

"I don't say this very often, Miss Spencer, but you are not a stupid woman. Look at the signs. He knew who you were. You were being used. A means to a wealthy end and a plaything besides,” his voice tutting as he shook his head. “It's a shame. Really.”

“No, no, no, no,” Faith murmured under her breath, gently rocking against her bonds, a self-soothing mechanism she hadn't done in ages.

Jasper squatted down in front of her, his cheeks tightening against his face to mask the grimace of pain. He took the tip of her chin, streaked with blood and spit, gently between his deformed fingers. Faith let the action happen, she was just too tired to fight it.

Samuel Drake caused this. What happened to your father was his fault. What happened to your mother was his fault, and subsequently, what happened to you is also his fault.

In the small cell, Faith brought her knees to her chest slowly. The head of Jasper's cane had worked her over, leaving bruises, gashes, and burning welts on her body. She poked gently at one of the suspicious-looking burns on her thigh, the top layer of skin hovered over it, the blister already beginning to form. The surface gave way quickly to the slightest touch, making it ooze, and pain radiate up her thigh. Faith inhaled sharply, clenching her teeth.

What the fuck, she thought to herself. Jasper had interrogated Faith for hours. The head of his cane that had smashed against her had never felt hot. The small penknife he had used had also held no heat when it sliced into her on more than one occasion. There was no blowtorch or branding iron either, thankfully.

Faith sat silently against the wall, staring out her small paneless window. Silent minutes passed while she stared at the fort's large and lone cannon, which sat atop the roof across the courtyard of the concrete octagon. Its barrel, de charcoal, stood out against the muted blue hues of the sky as dusk approached.

Moving towards the corner, she slid herself against the base of the wall. Each muscle in her body screamed in harmony as she pushed herself with the heels of her shoes. Sweat dripped down her forehead and down the tip of her nose. Her eyes refused to leave the cannon.

The cold cinder wall was refreshing, curling herself into the safety of the corner, gingerly wiping the pink-tinted perspiration from her face. The cannon never left her eyesight.

Why have a cannon that never got used? Faith thought. Her mouth hung open, her body refusing to let her breathe through her swollen and most likely broken nose.

Her brain was a fog of broken images and random words. Illinois, Key West, Fort Jefferson, Samuel Mudd. She felt the answer dangling over her head in puzzle pieces trying to be put together. And somehow, she knew she had the last one as Sam's inquisitive grin sliced through the fog. She could see the quirk of the corner of his mouth and the bright hazel of his eyes full of calm curiosity. The bright aqua of his shirt clashing with the lime green object he had his hand on. A lime green cannon.

You ever think they hid anything in here?

Sam's voice echoed in her ears with perfect, heartbreaking clarity, the key that finally turned the tumblers as Faith finally figured it out.

She knew where the treasure was.

Faith chuckled.

Then she started to cry. The sobs ripped through her, coming in shallow gasps of breath as her thoughts spiraled out of control. Is it possible she could have been so wrong, such a horrible judge of character? To come out of her shell more than she had in years to the person that had helped create the shell in the first place? Was she that stupid, or that desperate for just a moment of companionship? To feel something colorful and warm in a world that had left her cold and alone. No, no, Jasper was wrong. Jasper was a liar... wasn't he?

Faith brought a knee up to her chest and buried her head in her crossed arms. Her knotted hair dusted with sand, and dirt shielded her head from the sun dying through her small window.

Between the hitching sobs, through the tears, snot, and drying blood, all Faith could do was manage a whisper. A pained plea that could barely be heard through the void of her cell.

"Help me, Ma, please help me."

#dangerous #My writing #sam drake x oc #samuel drake x oc #OC X Sam Drake #sam drake fanfiction

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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 6

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6

AS SOMEONE IN her third year of college, Ophelia felt wildly stupid for forgetting about Homecoming Weekend. Friday was spent at the movies and Starbucks with her friends and neighbors, but when she woke up particularly early on Saturday morning, it was to a message from her mother, telling her that they would be arriving on campus within half an hour. At first, Ophelia was confused as to why her family was coming, and then a bell struck in her head and she realized it was Homecoming. How the hell could she have forgotten that?

So, like every year, she put on a pair of her favorite ripped jeans, a red and black university shirt and her denim jacket on top after showering and doing her makeup. Isabelle and Tanya were already out to be with their families, since it was nearly ten in the morning and the Homecoming festivities began at nine. With her headphones in her ears and music deafening her to the rest of the world, Ophelia left the building and headed towards the courtyard in front of the student center where all of the main events were going on and where she was to meet up with her family.

She took out her headphones when she reached the courtyard, hearing the music playing throughout the campus as she saw the amount of people around. It was a sea of red and black, really, with everyone wearing the school colors, and there was a different kind of inflatable obstacle course than last time on one end of the courtyard. Food trucks and carnival games were also setup, along with face painting and henna booths.

Eventually, Ophelia caught sight of her family; her mom, dad, older brother Finn, Paisley, and Paisley’s fiance Elissa, all of whom stood near the steps of the student center. “Oh, I missed you, honey,” Idina Wright sighed as she hugged her youngest daughter before having to pull away so Ophelia could hug her father and the rest of her family.

“You look so cute,” Elissa grinned as she hugged her soon-to-be sister-in-law, taking in her college attire, thinking how only Ophelia could work denim on denim that well.

Ophelia then led her family to the dining hall, where a pancake breakfast was being served for students and their families. It was packed inside, busier than usual as the music playing throughout the room was overpowered by the chattering of everyone there, yet somehow they managed to find a corner table, with Ophelia’s Dad and Finn saving the table for the women to get food before coming back and letting them go.

They ate together, catching up as Ophelia filled them in on what was going on and telling them about being the resident advisor. As she began eating her second pancake, Paisley, who was separated from her with their mom in the middle, suddenly spoke up, “hey, Lia, isn’t that your neighbor?”

Ophelia, having just put a bite of the sweet pancake in her mouth, stared at her sister in brief confusion before following her gaze to the front over her brother’s head, catching sight of who she was talking about. As she chewed, she saw Luke walking in their general direction as he talked to a guy that looked remarkably like him. Luke hadn’t yet seen Ophelia, giving her ample opportunity to just revel in how good he looked, dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees, a red hoodie with the university name written in black with the hood popping out from under the black leather jacket he wore on top.

She nearly choked at the sight of him, the threat of that happening increasing as Luke’s head suddenly turned and his blue eyes locked with her hazel. Ophelia forcefully swallowed down her bite as Luke and his older look-alike got closer, lips parting to form the smirk that always seemed to come around whenever Ophelia saw him as she watched him say something to the guy before the older blonde’s gaze landed on her as well. Oh, God, is he coming this way?

Her thought was quickly answered as Luke walked towards her, the other guy trailing behind him as her neighbor stopped by the end of their table, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket as he greeted, “hi, Ophelia.” Luke’s blue eyes flickered to the other familiar girl seated there before adding, “hey, Paisley.”

Ophelia’s sister waved and greeted him right back while the rest of the family peered up at the tall, Australian boy curiously before throwing this questioning gazes over to the youngest member of the family. Ophelia sat up before offering a smile, “uh, guys, this is Luke—he’s my neighbor.”

Luke wanted to tease her, jokingly wanting to say that he thought they were friends, but let it slide as he offered a charming grin to Ophelia’s family. She watched as his dimples came into view under his dark blonde facial hair, showing off unfairly white teeth as his accented voice said, “it’s nice to meet you all.” Then, gesturing to the man beside him, added, “this is my brother, Jack.”

Everyone said their friendly hellos, and Ophelia’s gaze happened to meet Elissa’s, who was quirking a knowing eyebrow at the younger girl. She felt her cheeks heat up before quickly looking back up at Luke, reveling in the way the top of his hair was pushed back because he had it tied into a sort of half updo. He looked so good. “I just wanted to come by and say hello,” Luke grinned at the family before his blue eyes landed on Ophelia, her own small yet nervous smile on her pouty lips. “I’ll see you later, R.A. Ophelia,” he added, his smile subtly turning into a smirk that only she picked up.

He then walked away after one last smile to her family, who went back to eating their food after he and Jack said their goodbyes, and Luke glanced over his shoulder to offer a two fingered salute just for Ophelia before disappearing in the growing crowd of people lingering in the dining hall.

Once he was gone, Ophelia felt a nudge to her left, prompting her to see the way her mother was raising mischievous eyebrows. “He’s so cute, Lia,” she grinned, using her knife and fork to cut into her blueberry pancakes while wiggling her brows.

“That’s what I said!” Paisley piped in, leaning forward on the table to look at her younger sister. Pointing her fork at Ophelia, she added, “he lives right next door to you—you’ve got no excuse to not get with him.”

Across the table, Finn’s face scrunched up in distaste as their dad held his free hand up. “Okay, hey, whoa—let’s not have this conversation when I’m here.”

“Or me,” Finn added, shaking his head because the last thing he wanted to hear was his baby sister getting with some tall foreign kid.

Meanwhile, Ophelia was staring at her sister and mother in mild disbelief, a small laugh escaping her as she returned her attention to her food. How the hell was it that almost everyone around her seemingly wanted her to be with Luke in one way or the other—her friends, her sister, mother, and even Luke himself. Sure, she also wanted to know what Luke’s lips felt like on hers, if his hair was as soft as it looked, and what it’d be like to have his body pressed up against hers but, shit, at least she was silent and subtle about it.

“We’re just not having this conversation at all,” Ophelia said, shooting a pointed look to her family members as she picked up her glass of orange juice. She ignored the huffs of disappointment from Paisley and her mother, sipping the cold drink as her eyes flickered over the rim, somehow landing on the very boy she was thinking about.

Man, he was everywhere. Lowering her cup, Ophelia saw Luke sitting with people who were probably his family at a circular table in the middle of the dining hall. She saw his profile, with Jack to his right alongside a pretty girl and another older blonde guy that looked a lot like Luke and Jack. To Luke’s right were a man and a woman, who Ophelia assumed were his parents, as Luke laughed animatedly at whatever was being said, his laughter muted by the noisy chatter of the room.

Ophelia shoved another piece of pancake into her mouth, chewing rather roughly because now she was getting worked up at how Goddamn good Luke looked. She hadn’t really seen him wear color a lot, since he mostly kept to wearing white, black and grey, but in that red school hoodie? Luke looked ridiculously cuddly, and that leather jacket on top had her wishing he would press her against the wall and—

Oh, my God, I need to relax, she cut that train of thought off immediately, forcing herself to tune into the conversation her family was having, pushing all thoughts of Luke out of her mind for as long as she could.

*****

Throughout the day, Ophelia wondered if God, or the universe, was playing some kind of trick on her. She only considered this because no matter where she and her family went, she somehow always either ran into Luke or caught sight of him in the crowd. Whether it be at one of the family alumni sessions—this was Ophelia’s mom’s alma mater—or the football game, or even the huge courtyard where all of the main activities were going on, Ophelia somehow always managed to find Luke.

It was unnerving, how her eyes seemed to seek out his blue ones even through a thick crowd without meaning to. Every time they made eye contact, that smug yet familiar smirk would appear on Luke’s face and he’d hold his hand up in a wave, and Ophelia’s lips would fumble for a smile before looking away as fast as she could. What if he thought she was some kind of weirdo who was stalking him or something? Ophelia was already a flustered mess around Luke most of the time, she didn’t need him thinking she was following him around, too. God, wasn’t she supposed to be better than this?

It was towards the end of the night and the festivities were dying down, and Ophelia was walking her family towards the car park since they, her parents in particular, had a long drive ahead of them. As they walked, Paisley slung her arm around her younger sister’s shoulder and asked, “so can I write you down for a plus one on the wedding invite?” Ophelia quirked a puzzled eyebrow as Paisley grinned, “you know, so there’s a seat for Luke next to you.”

Ophelia’s eyes shut as she let out a groan, throwing her head back as she did so as Paisley snickered. She ignored the looks the rest of her family threw back at them as they walked ahead, before glaring up at her sister. “Would you stop?” she all but whined, trying to push Paisley away though the twenty-four year old didn’t budge. “You’re making it sound like there’s something going on between us.”

Elissa, who was walking on the other side of Paisley, chimed in, “if there’s nothing going on right now, there definitely will be soon.”

Paisley grinned proudly at her fiance, her right hand going to hold Elissa’s left while her other arm was still draped around Ophelia’s shoulder. The shorter girl, however, merely parted her lips in surprise. “Why would you think that?” she sputtered out, a nervous laugh following her words.

The strawberry blonde haired woman on the other side of Paisley scoffed. “Oh, please, Lia,” she laughed, rolling her green eyes. “When he first walked up to the table, the two of you were practically having eye-sex.” Ophelia let out an affronted exclaim as Paisley began giggling, while the former looked forward and hoped her brother and parents weren’t listening in. “And then I saw you kept looking at him literally everywhere we went. Honestly, hon, it’s like you two get off just by the sight of each other.”

That caused Ophelia’s eyes to bulge out in astonishment, a short gasp escaping her parted lips as she listened to Elissa. Get off just by the sight of each other? Was she serious or was she just trying to freak me out? Ophelia couldn’t believe her ears, because surely that’s not what it was like with her and Luke? She just thought every time she stared at Luke she was just looking at him like any normal person does—not having eye-sex with him. What even was that?

Before Ophelia could even hope to defend herself or protest against Elissa’s words, they had reached the familiar family Buick in the parking lot. Ophelia’s parents pulled her in for hugs and kisses, saying she needed to come home for a visit some weekend while her brother hugged and kissed her temple. When she went to hug Paisley and Elissa, both women said something along the lines of hooking up with Luke, which only caused the younger girl’s cheeks to set afire and lips to press together tightly. They needed to stop because she was getting flustered, and it was bad enough she was like that in front of Luke—if she got like that by the mere thought or mention of him, then she was seriously screwed.

She waved off her family, smiling even though her mind was running with her sister’s and Elissa’s words, before turning and walking in the direction of the apartment building—she had to start rounds soon. To distract herself, Ophelia put in her headphones and listened to her eighties playlist, making the five minute walk seem even shorter as she reached the building soon enough. Once the elevator doors slid open to her floor, she stepped out and took out her headphones, only to pause when she saw the person standing in front of their apartment a couple of doors down.

“Haven’t seen you all day,” Luke joked, key card in between his fingers as he looked down the hall towards her approaching form. Just like Ophelia, he obviously realized that he had seen her around campus throughout the day, though unlike her, the amusing thought of her stalking him didn’t ever cross his mind. No—Luke, like Ophelia, thought the universe or whatever God there was, was pulling some kind of prank on him. It was bad enough his thoughts stemmed from the darkest parts of his mind whenever he saw Ophelia on the occasion, but seeing her around all fucking day—even if it was for a split second through a crowd of people—did not do well for his greedy body.

Ophelia smiled as she walked down the hall. “Yeah, tell me about it,” she responded just as teasingly, pressing her lips together as she walked past Luke to get to her own door. As she fished her own key card out of in between her phone and case, she turned her head to the left to look at Luke as she conversationally asked, “did you have fun with your family?”

Luke stood twirling the card between his ring clad fingers, facing the door yet his head turned to look at Ophelia as he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he answered sincerely, and Ophelia’s own lips twitched at the sight of his fond smile as he thought of his family. “They live, like, three hours away so it was good to see them. What about you?”

“Yeah, it was great,” she answered, no longer in a rush to get into her room as she stood in the carpeted hall with Luke just a few feet away. “I’m pretty sure my brother ate from every food truck there was.”

The Australian chuckled at that, before pausing as a confused expression took over his face, brows steepened with a tilt of his head. “Wait, I thought that guy was your sister’s fiance?” he questioned because he could’ve sworn he saw a huge diamond on Paisley’s finger.

Ophelia blinked as a bewildered expression of her own flashed across her face before realization dawned and her lips parted. “Ohh, no,” she finally said, letting out a laugh with a shake of her head. “The other woman—Elissa, the redhead? She’s my sister’s fiance.”

Luke’s blue eyes widened as his eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and comprehension expressing on his features. “Oh! Oh, wow,” he let out a sheepish chuckle, ring decorated fingers running through his somewhat long hair that was no longer in a bun. “Sorry,” he added, feeling embarrassed for just assuming. “They’re a cute couple.”

Ophelia grinned, nodding along. “Yeah, they are,” she agreed, her smile genuine and the cheekbones Luke was finding himself to become obsessed with standing out. She was so lovely, he couldn’t help but once again think if she felt the same under him. Knowing that if Luke kept staring at her so intently the way he was doing so right now, she quickly inserted her key card in the slot and threw a smile his way. “I should, uh, go—I have to start rounds in a bit.”

Luke watched as she opened the door, flipping his card between his fingers before inserting it in his own door slot. “I’ll see you later, R.A. Ophelia.”

Ophelia smiled one last time before entering her apartment. Shit, I hope.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @babygirlcashton @calntynes @invisiblexcth @inlovehoodx @soulmatecashton @calumsmermaid @kchillout @thewackywriter @akacalciumhood @calumculture @ohhmuke @empathycth @flannelpunkcalum @poppedpins @novacanecalum @walkedhomealone @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-stan4lyfe @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @calumthoodsyonce @xhaileyreneex @rosecoloredash @asht0ns-world @cxddlyash @mysteriouslycali @lmao5sosimagines @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @5secondssofssummer @sublimehood @bloodlinecal @biwriting

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moondustis · 5 years

Text

your teeth in my neck

pairing: jeon jungkook + reader genre: smut, angst, fluff word count: 3,7k warnings: blood mention, death mentions, vampire!jungkook summary: “There’s not a lot on his mind these days, like his thoughts have gone blank and all he sees is red. All he can think about is the thirsty, or hunger he’s not really sure yet, in the pit of his stomach. It’s like it’ll never go away and all he’s left with is the slight shaking of his hands anytime he thinks about blood.”

There’s not a lot on his mind these days, like his thoughts have gone blank and all he sees is red. All he can think about is the thirsty, or hunger he’s not really sure yet, in the pit of his stomach. It’s like it’ll never go away and all he’s left with is the slight shaking of his hands anytime he thinks about blood.

It happened on a friday night. Jungkook had never been too good at staying out of trouble, like his mother used to say. It was cliche honestly, getting beaten up on a dark alley by three guys twice his size because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. The vampire showing up and scaring the bullies away was kind of cliche too, the whole transformation thing was.

He woke up a few days later on a house he had never been before and with a man he never saw before saying he saved his life. A lot to take in.

The man, Yoongi as Jungkook later would find out, took him in on what he called his clan. It was all very trash horror movie like, without the bloodbaths, because even if there was a want in his heart to go out and murder thousands of people just so his hunger would finally be sated, Yoongi would never allow it. Instead he fed off small blood bags that came out of the fridge.

“I’m gonna die. I’m so fucking hungry.” Jungkook whines throwing his body into the couch where Namjoon was sitting reading a book.

“For the last time, you can’t die.” Namjoon replies with a bored voice, eyes not moving from his book.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, moving so he’s pressing as close as possible to Namjoon. “I know, but I’m starving here.” He is, he really is. His eyes are bloodshot red and he keeps hurting his mouth because his fangs won’t go back to their normal sizes. “Please, let’s go out and kill a deer or something.”

He gets shoved to the other end of the couch with a loud thump. “I know for a fact you don’t want to kill a deer, Jungkook.” Still the bored voice. “Besides, you fed an hour ago. Please relax until Yoongi arrives with more bags.”

Like an overgrown child he whines, and trashes his body on the couch, the whole thing not even fazing Namjoon. He settles in, arms crossed and a pout on his lips. It’s childish, it really is, but he’s still a baby vampire if you think about it.

He closes his eyes, trying to focus on anything else but it’s no use, all he sees is red.

He ends up drifting off, only waking up when the smell of packed blood lingers in the air. but it’s not just that, he could also smell something a thousand times better than it, something that makes him get up in not time and lurch forward. Namjoon is faster, though, grabbing him and keeping him locked in place with no difficulty. He could die right now from how good it smells, fresh blood, still pumping through someone’s veins.

“Oh my god, you guys are trying to kill me.” Is what he says, whimpers almost, when Yoongi walks in with a human by his side. A human that Jungkook really wants to sink his fangs in and drink until there’s not a drop of blood on their veins. They shouldn’t be here.

The human is a girl, that doesn’t look half as scared as she should be when there’s this many vampires in the same room. Instead, she laughs straight in the face of danger.

“Relax, kid.” Yoongi says, voice mildly annoyed as he walks with the girl to their provisory kitchen. “I got you some more blood.”

There’s more than one implication to what yoongi just said. Does he mean the blood bags or the human? Just the thought of drinking fresh blood for the first time makes his mind go insane and Namjoon has to grip him just a little stronger. If he wasn’t so blinded by hunger he would wonder what he looks like right now, eyes as red as possible and crazy look on his eyes.

“What’s up, ____.” Namjoon says, getting Jungkook out of his daze. Why does Namjoon know the name of his food. On a second thought, why would someone Namjoon knows the name of be his food. His dreams are shattered.

“Hey, joon.” The girl is definitely close to Namjoon. Fuck, Jungkook can’t kill a friend. “Is he giving you a lot of trouble? He seems really thirsty.”

“Oh, you know… the usual.” Namjoon replies, voice calm. Jungkook would be upset that they’re talking about him while he’s standing there but he can’t get himself to mind it that much. Not when Yoongi throws a blood bag his way before dropping the rest on the freezer and closing it with a thud.

The girl glares at Yoongi. “You can’t run out of blood bags when you have a newborn so hungry that his eyes are bloodshot red.” He wonders in the back of his mind how you know so much about vampires. The thoughts are forgotten when he catches the bag easily, Namjoon still letting go of one of his arms.

“It’s not our fault he drinks 10 packs a day.” Yoongi says, voice annoyed, but Jungkook barely listens, letting him fangs rip the bag open and almost moaning as the taste of type A+ blood fills his mouth. It’s heavenly really, even if he would much rather drink from the source. “Besides, he’s eating right now. Everyone’s happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” The girl watches as Jungkook finishes the bag, a tiny smile on her lips. “I have to go, tell Taehyung to call me for fucks sake. And take care of your baby, we don’t want him escaping and murdering half of the city.”

As he watches her leave, Jungkook thinks murdering half of a city wouldn’t be that bad.

﹏

The girl turns out to be taehyung’s half sister. You were a nurse student that came around once in awhile to bring blood bags that weren’t technically stolen, but not exactly legal. Jungkook didn’t really care where they came from, as long as he could have five packs a day, and see you. He was a bit confused at first because Taehyung was a vampire and you weren’t so Yoongi explained that when Taehyung was 20, back in 2000, he had fell ill to an unknown disease and becoming a vampire was the only way his family found out for him to stay alive. Two years later Yoongi met him and they started the clan, Namjoon and Hoseok joining a few years later.

It’s cool how you deal so well with the whole thing, since you grew up around a vampire and all. And you don’t treat Jungkook like a monster, not even when he looks like he wants to rip your neck open. You just smile at him when you bring the bags and ask how he is doing.

He gets a lot better at the whole vampire thing too after a while. Namjoon and Yoongi do a good job of training him even if for the most time it’s just them testing their patience. But it makes your visits get a lot more comfortable when he can think of something else than blood and talk to you like an actual person.

“So, what did you like to eat before all this?” You ask one day, sitting on the kitchen’s balcony with your legs not touching the floor. He’s alone with you, something that doesn’t happen quite a lot because even if the others trust him now, they don’t trust him that much. But he doesn’t think about killing, not today at least.

He takes a moment to think about it. It’s been a while since he ate anything solid and the whole concept of it seems to have escaped him. “I liked… fruits.” He decides on, can almost taste it on his tongue. He thinks of lunch break at middle school and his mother peeling apples for him on sunday mornings.

“Fruits?” You get him out of his thoughts. when he looks back at you, you are raising one eyebrow like you can’t believe him. “Not junk food?”

He laughs, genuinely. You look nice today with a t-shirt of a band he never heard of and your hair up on a ponytail. He can see your neck perfectly and it’s so cliche how attracted he is to it. “I liked those too, but fruits were my favorite.”

“Like strawberry?” You seem very interested about this, and every other aspect of his past life. Just last week you had inquired him about his hobbies and music preferences, always listening to what he had to say with wonder in your eyes. It was nice, getting to know you and making a friend that he didn’t have to see every day.

“Oranges.” He replies very fast and it makes you laugh a little. He likes the sound, so much that he doesn’t bother wondering why he said oranges when they weren’t even in his top 5 fruit list. He figures out later that he said it because it’s what you smell like. Not oranges specifically, but citrusy. He wonders if your blood tastes like that too and decides that it would probably be his favorite taste in the whole world.

“Maybe i can bring you some one day,” you tell him. “we can make juice or something like that.”

“That would be really nice.” He hums. Not eating the oranges, that probably wouldn’t be nice at all. He doesn’t think anything will ever taste good to him anymore besides blood, even if he wishes desperately he could drink orange juice with you every day. But it would be nice to have your company, be with you.

﹏

When Taehyung had inquired him about all the time Jungkook spent chatting with his half sister he just shrugged, like it didn’t mean anything, like you didn’t almost make him feel human again in the short amount of time you spent talking. In the end, Taehyung wasn’t even really bothered about it because in his words Jungkook was unharmful and would never do anything to you. And even if he did you could snap his neck in a second (which was a lie because Jungkook had all that vampire strength thing, that he didn’t know how to control yet, on his favour.)

In the end Taehyung should’ve been worried because what was once innocent chatting and laughing became something more when one afternoon you kissed him, all confident and whatnot, making his head spin around from your closeness and the smell of your blood making his eyes bloom in black.

It quickly became more than that, a kiss here and a touch there, he was head over heels for you in no time. And it’s harder and easier to control himself. Especially with you on top of him like you were right now, so close he could just move his mouth to your neck and you wouldn’t even notice.

He was still a bit unexperienced in this whole thing, which was a bit embarrassing. He had never dated anyone before, just messing around here and there. That mixed with his fear of hurting you in situations like this made him stay completely still while you did all the work. You kissed him sweetly, never too much that he would lose control and do something he regrets.

“You can touch me, Jungkook.” You said taking his hands from where they were still by his side on the bed and place them on your waist. “You know that, right?”

“I know. It’s just- It’s-” he’s avoiding eye contact and blushing which makes you want to kiss him even more. “I’m a bit new to this. This being making out and being a vampire. And making out as a vampire so like, this could go terribly wrong.”

You let a laugh and peck his lips. How could he be so cute you think to yourself. He has you completely on the palm of his hand and he doesn’t even know it. “It’s okay, baby.” You let your hand move to his hair, to brush it out of his face and he looks more at ease as you do so. “I’m sure nothing bad will happen. i trust you.”

You shouldn’t trust him, not at all. He has come to realize you’re very bad at making good decisions and very good at getting yourself into trouble. And this right here is a complete red light. From the moment you sat yourself on his lap and moved so close he could smell your perfectly it was over for him. He wonders if his eyes are already red and you’re just ignoring it.

Still, he moves to kiss you because he will die if he doesn’t and the kisses soon become open mouthed with your tongue is in his mouth and he could definitely die right now, for multiple reasons. You find out that he’s a fast learner because soon his hands find their way to your hips and he grips it with the least amount of force his self control allows him to put. You let a moan because of that and that seems to snap something inside of him because he stops kissing you and moves to your jaw and then to your neck. Risky move.

He’s definitely cloud minded right now, nose pressing against your neck and it smells so nice that the grip he has on you gets just slightly more hard. He moves his hips upwards into yours, a soft moan leaving his lips and his face buried into your neck. “Baby?” you say trying to get him out of his daze but he just hums.

He looks up to you with his puppy red eyes and his fangs halfway out. If you hadn’t stop him you think that he would’ve probably bitten too deep to turn back.

“You smell so good.” His voice is barely a whimper. You can feel how hard he is against your jeans and it makes your mind just as fuzzy. You just run a hand through his hair, trying to get him to calm down. “Like oranges.”

“You’re so sweet.” you reply laughing a little, and moving to get out of the bed. he just eyes you with confusion on his face.

“I’m sorry for getting too close to your neck.” It’s sincere and you know it. You know that if Jungkook ever bit you he would enjoy it, but still regret it afterwards.

“It’s okay, Kook.” He smiles sadly at you and you peck his lips softly to make him feel better. “We just need to work on your self control.”

﹏

“So, you and ____, huh?” Yoongi is very good at acting nonchalant about things, like he never cared about a single thing during the years he has been alive. He throws the question at Jungkook on a friday night, he’s on the couch writing something on his small notebook that he never seems to finish as Jungkook scrolls mindless through his phone.

He shifts on the couch at the mention of your name and what you two had. It had been going on for a few months but he was still uncertain what it all meant. Still, he replies. “Yeah, she’s cool.” You’re way more than cool. Maybe every good adjective Jungkook can think of but he’s trying to play it cool.

Yoongi just looks at him, raising one eyebrow up. “And she’s human.” he says like Jungkook might have forgotten about it. He hasn’t, couldn’t. Your smell and the blush of your cheeks after you two kissed for hours reminded him of that very well. “A human that will be turning 22 in a few weeks, and 23 next year. Something that you won’t be doing, ever.”

It’s silence for a second because Jungkook is not sure what to say. He has the feeling Yoongi is scolding him, but he’s too calm, too collected. “And, just in case you have forgotten, you’re a vampire that could kill said human in record time. Don’t try to deny it, I know you have thought about it. I have too.”

He has of course, but having Yoongi say it so openly and admit that he has thought about it too makes something inside of Jungkook shift.

“Do you want to say something? Or you want me to give you more reasons why you’re getting yourself in trouble.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He talks back, voice just the slightly pissed off and it makes Yoongi laugh deeply.

The anger in Jungkook just gets stronger and the stoic act Yoongi has on only makes it worse. He wishes the other man would fight him instead of doing whatever this is, he had always been more act than talk. The vampire thing just gives him a reason to.

“You know she doesn’t want to turn, right?” He didn’t because you two have never talked about it before. Maybe he was trying to make it all be as normal as possible, just to people that wanted to be together and didn’t have to care about the fact that one day one of them would die and the other would live forever. “I’m not trying to upset you, kid, but ____ is a very stubborn person. She takes what she wants, and living forever is not one of those things.”

“I don’t care that she’s not a vampire too.” He replies, stupidly and it makes Yoongi laugh again.

“Well, you should.” Yoongi closes the notebook then, getting up from the couch to leave but not before turning to Jungkook and throwing him a pity look. “Because one day, she’s going to leave, or die for fucks sake, and you’re going to be heartbroken because you’re that kind of person. And one thing I can tell you, is that being heartbroken while being immortal is not very fun.”

﹏

Jungkook thought a lot about what Yoongi said. Or he thought that he should be thinking about it, but all that fills his minds are thoughts of you. You and blood, the only two things that he would probably die for.

It’s hard not to when you are everywhere. He can smell you even when you’re gone, the citrusy scent imprinted in everything he owns. He thinks of you at night, of sinking his teeth in your neck or your thighs, tasting your blood until you’re moaning because in his mind it’ll feel just a good for you. these thoughts make him come so fast that he should be embarrassed.

He wonders if one day you’ll let him do it, wonders if it’ll be good for you. He wonders if he would lose control.

The first time you let him fuck you it goes tragic.

You’re in his bed, wearing the little yellow summer dress that he likes so much, kissing him as softly as you always do. It’s so nice that he doesn’t think about blood for a while.

Everything is under control until you mutter the words that give him whiplash. “Baby, I want you to fuck me.” you say, breaking the kiss and staring down at him. You look angelical. “Think you can handle that?”

He should’ve said no, because he can’t. It’s pretty obvious by the way he gets hard so easily when you kiss him, should be obvious by how many times he has gotten a little too far when kissing your neck. But he nods his head dumbly, and you smile before kissing him again.

The kiss is a bit deeper this time, he moves his tongue with yours with ease now, letting your hands move underneath his t-shirt and running your fingers delicately on his stomach. He moans, quietly, making you smile against his lips.

The moment he enters you is when it all goes wrong. You move very slowly, giving him time to breath but it’s still too much and in a second his groaning, deep in his chest and moving his hips upwards with so much force that you let out a yelp. You’re so wet, so warm and your arousal smells so sweet that he can’t help the grip he has on your thighs. He wants to bite you, oh how much he wants to. It would be so easy, it’s right there.

You’re there, on top of him, breathing deeply and heart beating like crazy in your chest. You clench around him once, because it’s really too much and he whines, closing his eyes. He imagines biting you on the inside of your thigh, so near to your cunt that he can almost taste your arousal. He imagines what it would taste like mixed with your blood and then he’s coming, pushing his hips into your in frantic motions and almost shouting.

It takes a few moments for him to come back to it but when he does you’re still on his lap, with him still inside of you. You are still, frozen, like any movement would be over the top. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He drops his head down on the pillows, tears pricking at his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. It just felt so good, I’m sorry.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his rambling, moving your hands to push his hair back. He’s so pretty like this, you think to yourself, would be even more if he could blush. “It’s okay, baby.” You say, because it is. You don’t think anything would ever not be okay when it’s with him.

﹏

You never thought much about turning, it never made a lot of sense in your head. Life was already too much and living forever sounded more like a curse than a blessing.

Still, you ask Taehyung to do it on a boring monday morning.

There’s not a lot on your mind after it, like your thoughts have gone blank and all you can see is red. All you think about is the hunger in the pit of your stomach, it’s like it’ll never go away, even though you know it will, and all you’re left with is the slight shaking of your hands anytime you thinks about blood.

There’s regret in your heart every time you think about living forever. Then you look at Jungkook and think that it can’t be that bad

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut

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