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leezlelatch · 1 year

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A Cardinal Truth

It’s time to worship that belly and those thighs like they deserve. NSFW. Minors DNI.

Cardinal Copia x Reader, ~2,600k words AO3 Link

Belly worship, thigh worship, love handles, self deprecating comments,

You watch from your place at the edge of the bed as Copia pulls the suspenders from his shoulders, letting them hang loose at his sides while he meticulously places his coat jacket on the hanger which he claims has the miraculous ability to chase away creases.

He clears his throat, the light of the lamp on the dresser catching the features of his profile as he stands in front of the closet door. You admire his long nose, the curve of his brow, his full lips. His upper lip twitches, his mustache jumping with it. You enjoy how the soft light accentuates the little flyaway hairs he misses when he trims, somewhat longer than the others in his otherwise maintained facial hair.

A piece of brown hair tinged with silver falls over his forehead, and after his suit jacket is hung straight with the others in a pattern which Copia claims is very important - black, red, white - he smooths his hair back. You hold a pillow in your lap and squeeze it to you as you bite your lip and smile. Just watching Copia perform his nightly routine is an intimate act for you, your heart bursting with the knowledge that you get to see him like this. Not the right hand of Papa Nihil, the second most employee of the month Cardinal, but merely Copia. Overworked, exhausted, but insistent you spend your evenings together no matter how late or tired he is Copia.

You watch as he moves toward the mirror next to his dresser, a hand scrubbing over his face as he looks at himself. You watch as he squints as if in displeasure, his fingers lightly ghosting over the wrinkles at his eyes, visible now his make up has been removed. He pulls his white undershirt from his pants and lifts it over his head, his hair a veritable bird’s nest that he attempts to tamper down once he tosses the shirt aside.

His back and neck are covered in the light freckles you know travel across his chest and down his arms. You can just make out the front of him through the reflection of the mirror, his chest covered in downy brown hair interspersed with wiry gray that you know Copia hates. Sometimes you catch him plucking the gray hairs from his chest.

You hear Copia grumble, and your eyes snap up to his which are trained miserably on his midsection. He grabs a handful of his belly, just protruding slightly over his pants and gives it a wiggle while he whispers self-deprecating Italian. The thickness of his hips and thighs are only accentuated through the tight black pants of his suit, and he turns to the side looking himself up and down.

You’re getting up and crossing the small space without a thought, your fingers grabbing for his soft skin as you wrap yourself around his frame.

“Amore!” He gasps, his arms coming up as you duck beneath them, nuzzling your cheek into his bare skin.

You sigh happily, your fingers tracing over the curve of his rigatoni blamed pudge, dancing down his happy trail to the edge of his trousers. Copia’s breath hitches as he gazes down at you, his lips parted slightly as his pupils begin to dilate from the heat simmering in the belly your attentions are so immensely focused on.

“What are you doing, dolce?” He whispers, biting his lip when you press a kiss to his love handles.

“Can I tell you a secret, Copia?” You say, smiling prettily up at him as you rest your chin on his middle.

“Hmm?” He questions, not trusting his voice. Copia runs his fingers through your hair, mesmerized by your actions.

“I love this part of you. I love how soft you are, how your suit hugs your curves. I think you’re beautiful.”

His immediate reaction is to scoff, his eyes finding his reflection in the mirror. He frowns at the way his midsection juts out from his hips, a fact he can usually hide within his belted cassocks. Copia loves his sweets, and in his old age, the little cakes and chocolates are going right to his thighs. They fill his pants, already sinfully tight, the skin around his dick even affected by his bad habits, the shape of him easily identifiable.

“This isn’t attractive, amore,” he sighs, his gaze turning to you. His fingers leave your hair to gently press against your cheek. “Although you are sweet for saying so.”

“Yes it is,” you say, your eyes wide and sincere. “Every time you take off your shirt I want to grab you and never let go.”

“Get off the floor, please,” Copia says, pulling at your arms fruitlessly as you do not budge an inch.

“Copia,” you place a hand on his chest, letting your fingers slide down the length of him. He shivers. “See yourself through my eyes. You are everything.”

“But I am old,” he gasps.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, pressing another kiss to his skin.

“I am…flabby, in places.”

“Yes.”

“I am wrinkly,” he says, his voice shaking.

“Yes,” your thumbs rub circles into his sides.

“I look frightening.”

“You can look quite intimidating sometimes in the right light,” you concede. Your lips tease around his belly button.

Copia grips the edge of his dresser, and growls, his brow furrowed, “And!?”

You look back up at him and smile, “And I love every bit of it. Every bit of you. All of you. For all that you are. You are my Copia.”

He stares down at you with wide eyes, his hair falling into his face, sweat on his brow. Copia blinks and a tear falls, hitting your cheek. You do not flinch as it slides downs your face to catch at your chin. Your eyes are only for him. You want him to see and understand that you love him. So incredibly and so deeply.

“Amore, amore mio,” he whimpers, his hands coming up to cradle your face. More tears fall, sliding down his ruddy cheeks as he sniffles in an attempt to control his emotions. “I love you. Ti amo. You have my heart in your hand, cosa preziosa. Do you feel it beating for you?”

Copia,” you whisper, your eyes shining with the breadth of your own emotion. You move out of his grip to place hot kisses all over his skin, pressing your nose into the roundness of his belly. “Let me show you what I can do with more than your heart.”

Your fingers slide up his thighs, curling your hands around the thickness of them, the fabric of his pants smooth against your palms. The pants are so tight to his skin you can hardly grab a handful of his thighs. Your lips continue to press kisses all over his belly and around his belly button, nipping at the hairs there.

Copia uses both hands to grip the edge of the dresser now, his breath blowing harshly out of his nose as he closes his eyes against the feeling of you kissing and touching places he often feels unsettled by. As a couple, the both of you are no strangers to sex, but there is a deeper intimacy in these secret erogenous places he had no clue could affect him so.

As you press yourself closer to him, Copia squirms when you brush against the aching hardness which strains against the prison of his trousers. You pull back to admire it, the curved outline making you blush and rub your thighs together. You hear a dark chuckle above you and raise your eyes, Copia smirking down at you with a tilted head, his white eye nearly iridescent.

“Do you like looking?” His voice is low, rasping, each syllable winding around his Italian accent. “Do you like to see what you do to your Cardinal?”

He rolls his hips toward you, arching them toward your lips, his cock shifting in his pants. You see a desperation behind his feral expression, Copia hiding behind the mask of the Cardinal, overwhelmed by your affection. You dart forward and kiss him through the fabric, rock solid against your lips before biting down on the skin of the underside of his belly. Copia’s hips jerk and he gasps, a sudden intake of breath hissing through his teeth.

Your intention is to leave bruises, marks of your love all over his skin and you pepper little love bites up and down his belly, sucking hard at the sensitive flesh near the center that has him bucking toward you again. His dominant expression crumbles into sweet surrender, a mewl escaping his parted lips.

“Satana, cosa mi stai facendo? Mi sento così bene, così bene, amore mio,” Copia murmurs frantically, his voice nearly breathless as he moans into the quiet of the bedroom.

You unbuckle his pants and slide the zipper down, his cock springing free from its confines. It bobs in place, jerking, searching for relief, searching for your touch. The tip shines with precum and you move very close, your lips nearly a hairbreadth away from brushing against the red and needy skin. You glance up at your Copia and his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised dramatically as he waits to see what you will do. He whines.

“Touch me, oh touch me, per favore,” he begs.

You grip his hips, closing the distance between your face and his need, but you merely allow your cheek to slide against the side of his cock, a cheeky look crossing your features as Copia watches you with rapt attention. That slight, gentle, soft friction has him pressing himself harder against you, confusion etched across his face as you continue your trek until your nose brushes against the plush skin of his pubis, the wiry hairs tickling your face.

You kiss there and he nearly buckles.

His thighs, covered in soft dark hair, are thick, but strong. The muscles flex under your hand as you finish removing his trousers, flinging them to the side, the suspenders attached to them clacking as they hit the floor.

Copia is wiggling, his hips moving left and right as he throbs. He’s taking deep, cleansing breaths as he watches a drop of precum collect at the tip of his cock. You drag your fingernails across his thighs, delighting in the way the dresser shakes behind you as he pushes and pulls against it.

You take the very edge of your finger and gently remove that glistening drop, hearing Copia’s breath catch as you inspect it carefully for a moment before gazing up at him with a most innocent expression, bringing your finger to your mouth. You watch his eyes widen while his pupils narrow as he watches you lick his desire from your skin. It drives him mad, his hand coming down to slap yours away from your mouth to accept his searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth with desperation, wrapping around yours in an attempt to taste the saltiness on your tongue.

You pull away sharply and grab his chin, staring into his eyes. His chest heaves, his breath hot against your face.

“Don’t be bad,” you tease.

Copia’s face flushes, but there’s a new sharpness to his gaze, a slow confidence building there.

“Cattivo, amorino? I will show you bad when I have you spread before me,” he promises.

You suck in a breath, a small noise leaving your mouth which absolutely delights him. A smirk twists at his mouth when he catches you moving your hips to try and stifle the pure ache you've felt between your legs since you started to watch him undress. Wanting to gain back control, not finished with the utter worship of your lover's body, you wrap your hands around and squeeze his butt, enjoying the squeak that leaves his mouth as you pull his hips close to you once more.

You begin to lavish his thighs with kisses and bites, sucking hard on the pliant skin of his inner thigh. Copia buries his fingers in your hair. Your fingers knead and prod, massaging his thighs in tandem with your kisses. Each sweep of your lips in that special crease where his thigh meets the pubic area has him keening, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Copia's hips stutter against your touch, humping at the air. His cockhead is swollen and red, weeping and desperate.

You turn your attention to his other thigh, not willing to leave a single inch of these deliciously plump areas untouched. You bite at him and pull just a little, the skin jiggling back into place and he jumps, a high-pitched moan escaping him. You glance up at him. He's breathing heavily, his lips parted, wet around the mouth. His eyes are tightly shut, and the sweetest little "ah, ah, ah"s leave him as his entire body positively shivers under your ministrations.

"Copia," you say his name softly, your hand raising to grab the flesh of his belly.

His head shoots down and he opens tear stained eyes, his face open and pleading.

"I love you," you tell him. You try to infuse your words with every bit of honesty and truth.

His bottom lip quivers as he smiles, his hands leaving your hair to cup your face. He looks at you as if you are the only thing in his world that matters. You are the only thing in his world that matters.

"And I love you," he whispers. "So much. So deeply. I love you."

Keeping eye contact, you cup his balls with one hand, your other hand wrapping around the hot flesh of his cock. Copia's fingers tighten around your cheeks, and he gasps, his hips jumping. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a string of unintelligible Italian as you pump your hand back and forth. He arches into you, thrusting himself into your hand. His movements rock you both, and you allow yourself to simply be taken into his rhythm.

His breath picks up, his whimpers steady and growing louder until he's nearly falling on top of you, his legs giving out. You hold him close as his body shakes head to toe, and you feel ropes of his cum land on your stomach. He becomes pudding in your arms, laying heavily against you on the floor, his face buried in your neck as he attempts to settle his racing heart. Your fingers draw circles on his back, your lips pressing kisses to any piece of skin you can reach in your position.

Copia sighs, his arms tighten around you for a moment before he pulls back, looking at you softly for several seconds and leaning in reverently to kiss your lips.

"Thank you," he breathes against them. "You don't know how - " His voice breaks and he goes silent.

You cup his face much the way he did yours and kiss his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids.

"You're perfect, just the way you are," you say.

He wobbly smiles and buries his face against you once more. You allow yourself to be lost in his embrace, warm and content, until you feel him begin to nibble against your neck, his mustache scratching against your skin.

"Amore," his voice is a purr. "Remember what I said about having you spread before me?"

****

The next morning, you wake with bleary eyes, stretching, enjoying how relaxed your muscles feel while the throb between your legs reminds you of just how grateful Copia was the night before.

Speaking of...your eyes do not find him beside you in the bed, and you scan the room until they fall on him standing once more before the mirror.

He's completely nude, a cup of coffee in one of his hands and he turns this way and that as he admires the bruises littering his belly and thighs. He chuckles softly and slaps a hand to his belly.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they are warm and happy.

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #ghost #ghost bc #copia #cardinal copia fanfiction #cardinal copia headcanons #cardinal copia x reader #reader insert #ghost fanfiction #poorly translated Italian #mdni #papa emeritus iv

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ramblingoak · 4 months

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His Little Ghuleh

Secondo x Aurora

Secondo didn't get on his knees for just anyone...

Warnings: cum play, overstimulation, size kink, biting, scratching, rough blow job, slight breeding kink, p in v sex, Aurora being in charge, jealousy, brief reference to Aurora hurting/killing someone because she got jealous, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI, 4.6k words

Secondo didn’t get on his knees for just anyone.

Usually he was the one staring down at a naked Sibling or Ghoul. Watching as they found their pleasure, watching as they fell apart. He enjoyed hearing them moan and gasp his name. It was always a beautiful sight, always something he looked forward to when he had the time. When he found the perfect someone to share those moments with. Tonight was different though, tonight he was the one naked and on his knees.

Her clawed fingers skimmed his shoulders as she circled him, some nameless tune falling softly from her lips. The moonlight danced across her skin as she traced his tattoos. The way her horns glittered was mesmerizing. They curled up softly from her forehead, surrounded by her multicolored hair. Aurora was the most beautiful being he had ever seen and tonight he was at her mercy.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was a tiny thing but like most Ghouls that didn’t matter. There was great strength within her, a dark power that she was all too willing to release. Secondo had seen the aftermath of it, the blood that she had spilled in a fit of jealousy. Normally that wasn’t something he tolerated despite envy being one of the seven sins. But there was something about his little ghuleh being so enraged over not getting the attention she felt she deserved that stirred something in him.

His mind went back to when he had met her. It had been late in the evening when he had been wandering the abbey, restless and unsettled. She had been dancing in the hallway outside the library, unglamoured and beautiful. The fading sunlight caught on her skin and she glowed with an almost iridescent quality. He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there and watched her, the moon had replaced the sun in the sky and she was laughing at him when he finally snapped out of whatever spell he had been under.

“Papa, are you paying attention?”

Her melodic voice brought him back to the present and he blinked as he met her gaze. She stood before him, as naked as he and he let his eyes wander down her chest until he was looking at her soft stomach. Boldly he leaned forward, careful to keep his hands at his back as instructed, and pressed a soft kiss into her warm skin. She tasted of smoke, the kind that came from warm fires on cold nights.

“My apologies, mia demonietta. I am here with you.”

“And do you want me, Papa?”

“I crave you.” He murmured his words into her skin, smiling when he felt it jump under his lips. “Do you want me?”

She laughed then, stepping away much to his disappointment. Her footsteps were sure and steady as she walked backwards until his bed was at her back. He idly wondered when he could call it their bed because he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to share it with another.

He wasn’t sure she’d ever let him.

“Come here.” Aurora lifted herself onto the edge, reclining back as she watched him slowly move toward her on his knees. When he was before her she spread her legs and his eyes fell closed as her scent hit him. “Taste me.”

Secondo didn’t need any further encouragement, he fell upon her like he was starving and in a way he was. Her wetness hit his tongue and he moaned loudly against her. She was so warm, especially here. He let his tongue run from her entrance to her clit, as slowly as he could manage, and then circled the nub before sucking it into his mouth. A heavy sigh left her lips and he barely suppressed the grin that threatened to break out across his face.

He took his time with her, lapping at the increasing wetness he caused. When her clit became swollen from his ministrations he moved further down, sucking the lips of her cunt between his own. They made obscene noises when he pulled off of them but he didn’t want to let a single drop of her go to waste. His tongue made rough passes over her and when he dared to nip at her she just laughed and ran her fingers over his head.

“Is that the best you can do, Papa?”

With a growl he pressed his face harder against her, sucking at her greedily when she started to grind against his face. Her entrance was contracting around nothing, practically begging to be filled. He shoved his tongue in as far as he could, his nose pressing into her clit as he did. Her own moans joined his then and with a sigh she fell back onto her elbows. That was his sign that he could put his hands on her and with a growl he slipped them under her thighs and curled his arms around them to hold her tight against his face.

The sounds she was making as he lapped at her inner walls was like music to his ears. It was like the ringing of the brightest bells and it spurred him on. He could feel her contracting around his tongue and he pulled it out so he could seal his lips over her opening. Secondo sucked every drop out of her that he could, swiping his tongue up between her lips when her shaking intensified. When he closed his lips over her clit once more that was what sent her over the edge and she screamed as her orgasm hit her.

He continued to lick her as she came down, memorizing her taste as best he could. His broad tongue cleaned her of her release but he knew it wouldn’t last. He knew she wasn’t sated just yet. Her quivering opening called for more than his tongue but he flicked against it all the same, waiting for her to give him more instructions. Smiling when her breathing hitched when his tongue easily slipped back inside of her.

“Stand up.”

Secondo scrambled to his feet like he was getting his dick wet for the first time. He would be embarrassed if he couldn’t see how much it pleased his little ghuleh to see him so eager for her. To see his face paint mixed with her own juices. Her grin was an infectious thing that he couldn’t help but mirror. He only wished he had sharp fangs to match her own, to bite at her and to mark her like she did him.

Aurora pulled her legs under her and knelt before him. The only thing that gave her eagerness away was her bright eyes. The color seemed to change even as he gazed down at them. He couldn’t help but glance further, admiring how his paint looked smeared onto her thighs. A thought skittered through his mind then of how she might look wearing his paint on her face. Of how terrifyingly beautiful she would be then.

Something to ask of her later.

Her own eyes began to wander his body and he was pleased to see her mouth fall open as she took him in. Compared to many of her pack members he was not as fit, not as other-wordly, but her eyes were still full of admiration. Of lust. She had told him as much before, of how she loved how strong he was but that he was still soft to her touch. The dark hair that covered him was something she also loved and there had been many nights where she had seemed content to run her fingers through it for hours.

Right now her eyes fell to his cock and it bobbed at the attention. Her mouth slackened when a drop of precum formed at the tip and she reached a clawed finger out with great care to swipe it away. She eagerly brought it to her lips and sucked it in, her cheeks hollowing around the digit. His breathing quickened and she smiled around her finger before pulling it out with an audible pop.

“Would you like to fuck my mouth now, Papa?”

“Amongst other things.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them and he stopped breathing, waiting for her to admonish him. Waiting for her to punish him by not touching him at all and making him kneel at her feet the rest of the night. Tonight though his insolence amused her and he didn’t dare take a breath as she leaned in towards his eager cock. She seemed so small in front of it, if he hadn't seen her swallow him down before he would wonder how he would fit inside of her mouth at all.

Let alone the other places he enjoyed putting it.

She flicked her tongue against his tip daintily, as if she was tasting something for the first time. Each drop of precum was quickly replaced by another and her little moans as each one hit her tongue had him practically dripping. When she closed her mouth over the head and sucked he had to plant his feet firmly onto the carpet so he wouldn’t fall over. Her head bobbed back and forth slowly, like he was a meal she was savoring. As she did so her tongue lapped at him, stroking the sensitive skin along the bottom.

He couldn’t help but reach out and bury his fingers in her hair. Marveling at how the hues of blue and green closest to her horns looked against his skin. Secondo only ran his fingers through it at first, waiting for her to signal to him he could go harder. Some nights she didn’t let him touch her at all while others she was content just to let him comb through her hair. He wasn’t ashamed to say his favorite nights were the ones where he could grip her roughly and use her.

When she looked up at him through her lashes and smiled around his cock he let a prayer to Lucifer tumble from his lips. He shakily lifted his other hand up to her head, letting his fingers run down one of her horns before he pushed them into her hair. His grip was hard, harder than he could hold any of the Siblings he’d had before. But he knew what she could take and he knew what she enjoyed. He gripped her hair tightly as they watched each other for a few moments, neither of them even breathing as they took the other in.

Secondo only dared to move when he felt her jaw slacken around him and with a deep groan he pressed into her mouth until her nose was buried in the hair at the base of his cock. She swallowed around him and the feel of her throat fluttering against him nearly had him coming right then. With another groan he pulled out slowly, his gaze narrowing when a fang dragged along his length a little too hard.

“Mia piccola demonietta.”

She took him in again and again, letting him set the pace. Her tongue lapped at his length and her throat seemed to try to drag him in deeper and deeper with each of his thrusts. He went as hard as he dared, pulling at her hair to the point he knew her scalp must be aching. Her hands had been staying obediently on her thighs but he soon noticed one had delved between them. She was fingering herself roughing as he fucked her mouth and he wished he knew how many she was pressing into her entrance.

Sweat was beading along his brow and starting to drip down his face. Her own skin shone with moisture and it made her glimmer even more than usual. The light from the moon shining in caught on the saliva that was steadily dripping from her mouth and he had to clench his eyes shut at the sight. Seeing her drooling for him, seeing her fucking herself with her fingers was making his cock begin to twitch.

Aurora could sense his release was near and she looked up at him, her eyes swimming in moisture. He wasn’t sure if it was from his cock sporadically cutting off her air or the pain from the tight grip he had on her hair but it didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was that she was looking at him like he was a deity for her to worship. Like she was summoned from Hell for him and him alone.

All that mattered was that she was his and he was hers.

It was that thought that did him in and with one final thrust he held her still as his cock kicked inside of her mouth. Her lips were stretched wide around his base as her throat flexed around him. He felt her swallow each warm spurt of cum that left him, not letting a single drop leave her mouth. Secondo didn’t pull away until he stilled inside of her and even then he was reluctant to do so. She seemed to feel the same because she followed him as he leaned back, sucking at his spent cock until his tip finally fell away from her lips.

He released his grip on her hair, gently smoothing the strands down. Petting her like she was some delicate thing and not a demon from Hell that could tear him to shreds whenever she fancied. Her lips were swollen and raw, nearly split open in places from being stretched around his cock. It made her look used but that only made her more beautiful to him. She had let him use her, she had requested it.

Secondo couldn’t wait to do it again.

His little ghuleh glanced down at his feet almost shyly and in an instant he had dropped back to his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her so his hands fell onto her thighs, rubbing back and forth along her skin. They watched each other for some time, he wasn’t entirely sure how long. They stayed there mostly frozen until their breathing evened out. Secondo didn’t dare move first, he didn’t want to break whatever spell had fallen over them both.

It wasn’t until she brought her still glistening fingers to his lips that he did more than breathe. He sucked on her fingers like she had sucked on his cock, swirling his tongue around them so not a single drop of her was left. She pressed her claws against his tongue and dragged them down his flesh when she pulled her fingers out. He welcomed the sting, he welcomed the taste of his own blood. Aurora enjoyed the taste of it as well because she quickly brought her fingers to her mouth so she could taste it herself.

“I’m not sure what I enjoy more…your blood or your cum.”

Her grin was feral as she watched him, as he savored the taste of her cum mixing with his blood. It had his cock filling again quickly and he could smell how eager she still was for him. As if on cue she started to scoot back on the bed, not stopping until her head was resting on his pillows. Her hair contrasted beautifully against his black sheets, the brighter hues of pink and purple near the ends popping against the dark fabric.

He obediently stayed where he was until she spread her legs and held a hand out. Secondo was on her in an instant, his cock straining towards her cunt. Her rules were less strict now that her body was practically vibrating with need. She was murmuring things in her own tongue, pressing dark sounding promises into the skin of his shoulders and his neck. When she bit at him and drew blood her words became more hurried, like she was saying a desperate prayer.

Secondo wasn’t as fluent in the Ghouls’ language as he would like but he knew enough to understand what his little ghuleh was asking for. He knew that she wanted him. That she would kill anyone that stood in her way of having him. He knew that she felt empty when he wasn’t inside of her in some way and that she craved being filled by him. Secondo knew enough to understand the words for ‘mine’ and ‘need’.

He knew what the Ghoulish word for ‘love’ was.

The tip of his cock caught on her entrance and they both let out desperate moans. He couldn’t help but tease her even with how crazy he felt with need. Taking hold of his cock he ran it slowly up and down her cunt, dragging it between her lips and spreading her wetness. She was slick, practically soaking with need. The scent was heavy in the air and he was panting as it settled over him.

“Now, now fuck me now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. When he stopped at her entrance this time his eyes moved up to meet hers. Something passed between them then, something deep and eternal. It was something beyond simply sharing a bed and fucking each other. He took a deep breath and dropped his forehead to her own, watching her expression change as he pressed into her.

“Little ghuleh.”

The way she stretched around him was exquisite. Her inner walls craved him and they seemed to pull him in deeper, as deep as he could go. It almost scared him how even that didn’t seem like enough. Like no matter how he took her, no matter how he had her, he always needed more. He knew she felt the same with the way she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. The strong muscles holding him against her as close as she could get him.

His cock pulsed within her, impatient for him to move but he stayed still. He didn’t really have a choice with how she clung to him. She wouldn’t let him move until she was ready so he savored the moment as best he could. He couldn’t help but press his lips to hers, flicking his tongue against them when she pouted. Secondo bit at them next, tiny nips that did no real damage but her breath quickened all the same.

“You are so impatient, Papa.”

A laugh escaped him and he smiled at her annoyance. He dared to grind his hips against hers, his smile widening when she whimpered. His mouth fell to her neck when she tipped her head back and he let his teeth dance along her skin there. Once more he wished he had fangs to mark her properly. To show everyone in the abbey that she was his. One of her hands came up to cup his cheek and she tilted her head back down to meet his eyes, her clawed thumb scratching lightly under his eye. When she regarded him silently he raised an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“They know.”

Her claw dug in harder leaving a stinging mark in its wake. He let out a growl and pressed harder against her hand, hissing when her nail cut deeper. Good. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he belonged to her in return but he didn’t. Anyone with eyes could see that he was lost to her from the first moment he had seen her dancing in that hallway.

Her legs released him then and she spread them out on the bed. He wrapped his arms under her thighs again and pressed them up so her knees were near her chest. His mouth fell upon her then, sucking at her breasts and tugging a nipple between his teeth. She gripped his head and held him against her, gasping when he let go of one of her legs to grip her breast in his hand.

He was rougher with her than normal, enjoying the sight of her flesh indenting under his fingers. In the morning he hoped there would be bruises. Evidence of his touch that he could marvel at while she slept in his bed. She healed so quickly it was hard to get his marks to last. It was something he’d have to work on, something he would have to practice with.

He doubted his little ghuleh would mind.

The wet heat of her around his cock was finally too much to ignore and with a groan he pulled away from her breasts. Her nipple slipped out of his mouth with a soft pop and he blew against it as he moved away, smiling when her skin broke out in goosebumps. He gripped her legs again to keep her imobile and when their gazes finally locked he began the slow drag out of her.

Secondo stopped when the head of his cock was nearly free of her before he pressed firmly back in. She was hot and wet, she was everything. He paused for a moment when their hips were flush together again before pulling out once more. Over and over he repeated the action, never letting his cock leave her body. She made the prettiest noises as his cock dragged along her walls and he made his own each time she contracted around him.

If he could he would have continued that slow drag back and forth for hours, torturing them both until they were drenched in sweat and blood and cum. But the pull of her was too strong and he could tell by how desperate she sounded, by how hard her nails were digging into his arms that she didn’t want to wait any longer either. She needed him to fuck her and she needed him to fuck her hard.

Who was he to make her wait?

He let go of her legs and sat up, spreading his knees out so he had more leverage. Aurora draped her legs over his thighs, keeping herself open for him. He couldn’t help but stare at where they were joined. Marveling at how she stretched around him. Secondo reached out and touched her there, touching her opening and grinning when she made a wounded noise.

“Easy now, let your Papa take care of you.”

His finger traced the puffy skin around his cock. He pressed at her, idly wondering if he could push a finger alongside his length. Wondering if she could take that and more. When he glanced back at her eyes they were wide as she watched him. Her bottom lip was clamped between her teeth and he saw blood forming along where her fangs bit into it. He smiled and reached up to collect a drop on his thumb, eagerly bringing it to his mouth and licking it off.

With the taste of her on his tongue he couldn’t help but start to move again. Both of his hands fell to her hips to hold her still as he snapped his hips against her. The slick sounds of his cock moving in and out of her grew loud in the room. She was so wet for him it was almost obscene. He could feel it spreading over his thighs and he knew his sheets would be soaked when they were done.

He looked down at her belly and let one of his hands move to press over it. Her body jolted with each stroke of his cock into her and he imagined that he could feel himself under his hand. Feel how deep he was reaching inside of her. He wanted to cum in her so badly, he wanted to press it as far as he could. He wanted to fill her up, so that she was marked inside as his as well as out.

She was scratching gouges into his forearms and he groaned as his sweat made the cuts sting. His thrust became more wild, more animalistic and he imagined this was how the Ghouls fucked in Hell. Brutal matings that could be heard for miles. He relished the noises he could drag from her.

He loved making her sing.

Her walls were contracting around him harder and he knew she was close. He wasn’t far behind but he’d be damned if he came before her. Secondo wanted to watch her face contort as her pleasure took her, as it overwhelmed her. He brought his thumb to her clit and began to rub tight circles around it. His other hand pressed harder against her stomach and there, that was him inside of her.

Aurora cried out, a sharp keening sound that made his teeth vibrate. She came right after, spasming around his cock, her body begging him to cum. It wasn’t a demand he could resist and let out a ragged moan as he began to kick inside of her. His hips continued to move and she worked to meet each of his thrusts, her body milking him of his cum. He rubbed his hand over her belly, thinking about filling her again and again.

Perhaps he would do just that.

Eventually they both stopped and his cock softened enough that it slipped out of her. He narrowed his eyes when some of his cum dripped out and he quickly brought two of his fingers to her opening to press it back inside. She hummed as he did so, wiggling her hips to encourage him to keep going. Like she didn’t want a drop of him to leave her body either.

When he was satisfied he settled back on his heels, bringing his hands around his back so he wasn’t tempted to touch her. Even though they were both still trembling from their orgasms he knew he had to wait. He needed to see what she wanted next. Sometimes she was content wrapping her small body around his but other times she wanted more. Whether it was working him up until his cock was hard again or his mouth he never knew. As always he was at her mercy and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“I don’t like this feeling.”

He couldn’t help but wince at her words. She stretched then, like a cat that had been napping all afternoon.

“What feeling is that?”

“How it feels after.” She lifted her foot and delicately placed it on one of his broad thighs, stretching her other leg out again. The movement caused his cum to drip out of her once more and he felt a growl build in his chest. “Like there’s a part of me missing.”

“What would you like?”

“Your mouth. I want you to clean me up.”

She moved her foot off his leg and he took that as a sign that he could move. He dropped down so face was level with her cunt, his mouth already salivating at the chance to taste her again. To taste them both mixed together. A clawed hand on his scalp was the only thing that stopped him and he looked up to meet her eyes.

“And after? What shall we do then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me again, Papa. And again. Until I don’t remember what it’s like not to have you inside of me.”

He grinned, dropping his mouth so he could briefly drag his tongue across her dripping entrance. His body was already stirring as the taste exploded over his tongue and he ground his hips briefly against the bed. When her claws dug into his skin he glanced back up at her and smiled.

“As my little ghuleh commands.”

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of Our Own ~ My Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #secondo x aurora #papa emeritus ii x aurora #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #secondo fanfiction #aurora ghoulette fanfiction #secondo x aurora ghoulette #the band ghost fanfic #secondo fanfic #nameless ghoul fanfic #nameless ghoulette fanfic

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ghostchems · 10 months

Text

have some sympathy and some taste - dracopia x female!reader

you become charmed by a spooky live performance at a bar you wandered into.

author's note: this is dedicated to @blacktie-whitenoise for their birthday and also for how much they have done for the red jacket copia community :) this has been in my brain since the red jacket debut. mdni! 18+! about 3.6k words.

You let out a deep sigh as you cross the street, the club you have just left thumping in the background. Your friends were still there but you had gotten sick of being packed in with so many other people to the point you could hardly navigate the dance floor. You just need some air or at least some kind of break from the mess of bodies and incredibly loud music.

A dimly lit sign catches your attention: The Pinnacle Lounge. There is no music thumping so loudly that you can hear it outside from the bar so you decide to pop in for a drink to yourself and then head back over to your friends.

You push open the door and beeline directly for the bar and you’re somehow able to secure a stool for yourself. You quickly have a seat and order a mixed drink before your eyes wander throughout the bar. Dim red lights glow and it’s almost as if a fog has rolled into the room. Everything seems a bit hazy but it’s still calm. Much calmer than the club across the street.

The stage is being set for some kind of performance and you can’t help but focus your attention on it while you sip at your mixed drink. It definitely beats just sitting on your phone. The people in masks bring out a mic stand, amplifiers and begin working on laying the cords just right. You make a plan for yourself: stick around and watch the performance and then meet up with your friends after. Or, if whatever the performance is sucks, skip it and head across the street.

Masked people start to take the stage but the main microphone is still alone in the front. The lights dim even further and you feel almost like you’re in a trance. A voice rumbles through the bar over the speakers.

“Please, welcome to the stage — Papa Emeritus the Fourth and the Nameless Ghouls!”

You are startled by the sound of the bar crowd cheering for the band. And then — he takes the stage. His presence is so commanding, despite the extremely sparkly red jacket. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in his features, his salt and pepper hair, the skull face paint, the mismatched eyes. It must be some kind of gimmick, you assume, but you are enthralled by the vibes of it all.

Papa starts to sing, his voice low and strong and you instantly recognize the song as a cover of Sympathy for the Devil. It fits… well, the entire aesthetic of the bar and the band. The crowd is loving it, completely enraptured by the group’s stage presence and honestly, so are you. It sure beats whatever your friends are up to now.

His voice grows more powerful and booming as the song progresses. You find yourself leaning forward over the back of the stool, one hand propping your head up and you keep your focus trained on him. The way he moves his hands along with the music and sways his hips are mesmerizing.

At the start of the last verse, while he is belting out “so if you meet me”, his eyes find you and they stay on you. His white eye is burning into your skull and you think, for a moment, that you can feel something poking around inside you, fishing around your deepest thoughts. Heat flares in your chest and face, your body suddenly flushing and arousal growing between your legs. It’s like he just pushed a button inside you and completely changed how you were feeling.

The performance ends and you are feeling suffocated by how overwhelmed and stimulated you suddenly are. The performance ends and you are off your stool and out the door. The cool air of the night hits your lungs and you finally feel like you can breathe. You wander to the alleyway beside the bar and lean against the wall, pulling your phone out of your pocket to mindlessly scroll through in order to ground yourself back in reality.

“Do you have a light?”

The voice startles you and you’re unsure of how long you’ve been distracted by your phone. Your look at him and your mouth goes dry - it’s Papa. His red jacket shimmers in the moonlight and he is holding a cigarette between his fingers with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, no. Sorry.” You squeak and quickly settle your eyes back on your phone. You think if you don’t look at him, you’ll be safe from whatever it is he’s done to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his cigarette light up but you don’t see a match or a lighter. A shiver runs down your spine as he settles against the wall next to you.

“I saw you in the crowd, cara.” His accent makes your cheeks burn but you still don’t look up at him.

“Yeah, you were really good.”

Papa slinks closer to you and you smell the smoke from his cigarette.

“No, cara, I saw you.”

Your head snaps in his direction and he is just beside you, his lips still quirked in a grin. He flicks the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out without even looking. You feel your chest start to grow hot and the acknowledgement of whatever happened between you two makes you feel dizzy.

“Oh, there’s no need to be frightened, cara. This is a good thing. Good for both of us.” He tries to soften his features a bit but his glowing white eye is doing him no favors. The longer you look at him the more you feel you can’t look away, like you’re trapped by his gaze.

“What… what happened?” Your voice is soft, only a little bit louder than a whisper.

“I chose you and you opened yourself up to me..” It looks like his white eye is steaming. You can’t look away from it and it’s almost as if you can feel him probing your mind. He’s suddenly so close to you now, his expectant eyes tracing your be face before he reaches and takes you by the chin.

“I could have anyone I want and I’ve chosen you, cara — you should feel honored.” His voice sounds so soft yet threatening. Words get caught in your throat as he tips your head up. You press your palms against the wall and you brace for the worst. His head dips down and you draw in a sharp gasp —

His cold, soft lips drift against your neck and your entire body shivers. You were expecting something a bit more violent but there’s something sinister about the way he is lightly kissing your neck. He exhales deeply into the crook of your neck and you feel his tongue against the sensitive skin. His hand snakes up the side of your neck and grabs at your hair.

Copia gives it a harsh tug and his teeth immediately sink into your neck. Your body lurches forward and you manage a small cry in pain. He has you pinned against the wall, his body completely trapping you against him as he drinks from you. You start to feel sluggish and your limbs feel heavy while your eyes flutter open and shut.

He moans as he removes his fangs from your neck, his breath ragged in your ear. “Come back inside with me, dolce.” His voice is so smooth and it takes so much willpower to stop yourself from agreeing on the spot.

“I-I… can’t. I know where this is going. I’ve read books.” You whisper, your voice rushed and quiet. He pulls his head away from your neck slowly and settles just in front of your face. His lips are smeared with your blood but despite this, his sharp features have softened.

“You’re allowed to say no.” Copia says quietly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “But if you say yes… I promise you will make it home safely.” His breath is hot on your lips. “I just want to play with you a bit. It’ll feel so good for you, too.” He nips at the tip of your nose and then takes a step back.

You exhale slowly, feeling as if you have been holding your breath for the past few minutes. He reaches a hand out for you. It’s somehow gotten darker in the alleyway since you’ve been out there and you can barely make out his face apart from the white paint and his glowing white eye. You feel the pull toward him. It’s like some invisible force is making you move towards him, your hand outstretched but you hesitate before placing it in his.

“I may be a monster but I’m not a monster.” His lips twitch in what appears to be a genuine smile. Then, he whisks you away toward the back of the alley, away from the entrance to the bar. You are feeling foggy but the same knot of fear is still in your stomach as he pushes open a random door. You follow him inside and it looks like it’s part of the same bar, but perhaps a more private area.

It is still packed but there are more people dressed up as nuns and wearing masks with horns. There’s a few… acts going on that would immediately have you heading toward the exit but you feel strangely unphased by it. Copia leads you into a private room, complete with a curved couch, private bar and red lighting. He turns to look at you and he looks even more devilish now, his lips pulled into a tight smile with his fangs poking out.

“Have you ever fantasized about being with a creature before, dolce?” His hands slip around your waist and he backs you into the couch, the cushions hitting the back of your knees.

“I feel like you already know the answer to that.” You are desperately trying to hold your own, keeping yourself standing up straight and gazing back into his eyes.

“Ah, si. You’ve read books.” Copia says darkly and you feel a rush of warmth spread between your legs. His strong hands dip lower to grab and caress your ass through your tight jeans before moving with such speed — and suddenly you’re straddling his lap with him sitting on the couch beneath you.

He pushes and pulls you by the hips, grinding you against the growing tent in his pants. You gasp at the sudden friction and rest your arms on his shoulders. Copia’s hand snakes up to grab you by the hair and tips your head forward, his lips crashing against yours. You can taste the blood on his lips and his cold tongue pushes into your mouth.

You feel him growl into the kiss, his other hand still firmly on your hip. It’s a deep, messy, sensual kiss and you can’t get enough of it. Your fingers play at the hair on the nape or his neck before moving them up to rake through his hair. His hips buck into yours and he pulls you in even closer, pressing your chest flush against his.

Copia bites down hard on your bottom lip, your eyes snapping open as you whimper. His fingers knot in your hair and give it a sharp tug while he sucks on your bottom lip, blood flowing into his mouth. He is moaning into your mouth, completely lost in the taste of you. You grind into him more, your nails digging into his sequined jacket.

He pulls away from your lip, his head tilting back against the couch as his hand on your hip inches up the hem of your shirt. His mouth is agape, blood smeared on his lips and his white eye dimly glows. You help him with your shirt, pulling it up off of yourself. Copia leans forward, his hands immediately moving to unclasp your bra.

“A delicacy.” He breathes into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as your bra falls off of you. His gloved hands wander your body, running over every curve of yours and spending time massaging and caressing you. A moan slips from your lips as his hands find your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples while he massages them. Every touch is sensual but calculated, like he knows exactly how to get the reactions he wants out of you.

“Will you take these off, dolce?” His fingers pull at the waistband of your jeans, a soft smile playing on his bloodstained lips. You immediately slip off of him, standing between his legs as he opens them wider. The power he has over you is becoming quite clear but something about it makes you feel extremely aroused. You work off your jeans, pulling off your underwear in the process and pushing them down to your ankles, stepping out of them.

He slinks forward on the couch, his hands grabbing for you and pulling you into him. His lips are on your chest, nibbling and sucking as his hands cup your ass. You can feel how badly he wants you, how his ice cold touch has warmed up. His mouth moves down to your breast, his tongue licking at your nipple before taking it into his mouth. Copia groans against it, his eyes squeezing shut as he sucks on your nipple. His hand drifts down your hip, then settles between your legs and lightly drifts his fingers along your dripping folds.

Copia looks up at you with your breast in his mouth and you feel the soft pinch of his teeth. You give a small squeak, your hands falling to his disheveled hair. He growls against you and releases your nipple, trailing kisses up your chest to your collarbone. He presses his fingers more firmly against your folds and you tilt your head back with a moan.

“Oh, cara, if only you knew how much I crave this — this connection.” Copia whispers into your chest before leaning back. His hands fall to his pants, toying at the laces for a moment, then unlaces them. His cock springs from his pants, thick and leaking. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”

You’re at a loss for words, your body practically buzzing because of how aroused you are. His lips are curled into a smile, his head tilted to the side as he looks up at you. He gives himself a few lazy strokes and you can’t contain yourself anymore, straddling him again. He seems a bit shocked but quickly rests one hand on your hip and uses the other to line his cock up.

“Fuck.” You hiss as you sink down on him, your walls stretching around him. His hips roll against yours, his hands helping to guide you up and down his cock. His lips are on you again, this time grazing your neck as he pants and groans with each thrust.

A low growl rumbles from his throat, one of his hands pressing against your back to push you flush against him. You pick up the pace, rocking yourself up and down and using his shoulders to balance yourself. His growls and moans only grow louder, his grip on you tightening.

Copia sinks his fangs into your neck and you cry out, your arms wrapping around him for support. You can feel the burn of his teeth, his tongue lapping the blood spilling from your wound. Tears sting your eyes at the pain but it mixes so deliciously with having his cock massaging spots so deep inside you. He removes his fangs from your neck slowly but keeps his mouth on you, growling against your skin.

He grabs you by your hair and gives it a sharp tug as his other hand digs into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. You give a deep moan as he holds you in place and thrusts his hips into you roughly. He fucks you hard, pounding himself into you with loud, wet slaps of his skin against yours. Your legs are feeling weak, trembling more and more as you desperately cling to him.

Copia leans back into the couch but keeps you where you are, creating an even deeper angle to fuck you. You can’t stop yourself from moaning over and over and you’re not sure if your vision is blurring due to the blood loss or the intensity of his throbbing cock. You’re able to focus on his face for just a moment and you see that his eyes are focused on you, his lips are parted and smeared with your blood that drips down his chin. He looks positively devilish.

Just seeing him like this is almost enough to send you over the edge. He tugs at your hair again and slams into you hard at the same time and you scream out, your eyes squeezing shut as bliss overcomes you. Copia pulls you into him so your chests are pressed together and he wraps his arms around you. He chases his own release, frantically pumping into you as he snarls wildly until his hips stutter and his cock pulses with each release. His breath is ragged and heavy in your ear, but you’re hardly able to hear it over your heart thundering.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, dolce.” He whispers before he presses a few soft kisses to your ear on cheek. “Let me help you get cleaned up, si?” You can only muster a few nods against his shoulder and he carefully lifts you from off of him and carefully settles you on the couch.

You practically sink into the cushion, your limbs still tingling and your head still hazy. You close your eyes for what feels like a second when suddenly, you feel something warm and damp against your neck.

“What the-“ Your eyes snap open and your head jolts forward before you realize what’s going on.

“Calmati, cara.” He purrs as he gently uses the damp cloth in his hand to wipe at the wounds on your neck. “Shhh, let me take care of you.” You’re still dizzy but you manage to watch him as he cleans the blood off of you.

“Is this typical vampire aftercare?” You ask, blurting out the first question that comes to mind.

“Mmm. No.” He chuckles darkly as he brings the cloth up to wipe at your bloody lower lip. “But I promised you that you would make it home safe, didn’t I?” There is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Copia finishes with the cloth and sets it down, then drifts his gloved up your bare chest to your neck. “These will heal in a few days. Might want to cover them up in the meantime, dolce.” He lightly brushes his fingertips over the bite marks.

There is such care in his voice and it makes you feel strangely comforted by his touch. You find yourself leaning forward to him, his hand still on your neck as your lips meet his. Copia sighs into the kiss and gives your throat a soft squeeze. Your arms slide around his neck and you deepen the kiss, humming quietly into it. He keeps his hand firmly on your throat as his other one starts to wander down your body.

“You don’t usually sing here, do you?” You whisper against his lips.

“Only when I’m desperate… and things typically end up much more bloody and much less fun.” He chuckles darkly and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Cara, you really have lost a decent amount of blood. Let’s get you home so you can rest, eh? I am trying to keep my promise to you.”

You grumble a little bit and start to get dressed. To your surprise, he helps you — he slips your pants up your legs and helps you with your tank top. He still has that edge that sent shivers down your spine in the alleyway but he is now considerably more polite and gentle. It’s kind of cute.

He takes you by the hand and leads you through another door leading out of the private room, which takes you to the front of the bar. The stage has been cleared and the crowd has thinned out. The two of you are out the door in a second and the cold air hits you, giving you goosebumps. Before you even say anything, he is already draping his sparkly red jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You smile faintly as your eyes drift to the car he is leading you to.

“Will you come see me again?” Copia asks ever so quietly as he opens the door to the car for you. You glance back at him and notice how hopeful he looks. You feel a tingle in your chest.

“I think I might.” You offer a coy smile. His eyes light up at your response and you think you might even see a blush rise to his cheeks. It’s funny to you that, in his own words, he could have anyone he wanted and yet he is asking you to come back.

“Get home safe, dolce.” He purrs and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. You slide into the backseat and he closes the door behind you.

You still feel like you are in a dreamlike state and pull the red sparkly jacket tightly around you as your eyes are glued to the passing buildings and lights out the car window.

#Copia #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #Cardinal Copia #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #dracopia

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peakgenko · 3 years

Text

Songs the Haikyuu boys would slow dance with you to...

CW; suggestive sexual themes

N/A, my heart nutted while writing this tbh

not proofread!!

Kei Tsukishima

Dream A Little Dream of Me- The Mamas & The Papas

I don’t even know how i made this connection but i feel like tsukishima hums a lot of old songs and so this would be one of them

Or slow dancing in the dark by joji. it’s his favourite song. because of you.

Yuu Nishinoya

So Good At Being in Trouble- Unknown Mortal Orchestra

You’d rock back and fourth with him slowly while his lips press against the back of your hand— his eyes staring intently while he hums the lyrics

Shoyo Hinata

I’m Yours- Jason Mraz

So it’s not really something you can slow dance to but this is definitely his song for you. He sings this to you in the showers, during pillow talk, or drum the rhythm with his fingers against a Tupperware when he’s cooking something for you.

He’ll pull you in by the waist and nuzzle his head up against your back with a grin.

At this point it’s his favourite song because it always gets him in the mood. But that’s only because he thinks of you when he hums it.

Rintarō Suna

Versace On The Floor- Bruno Mars

OMG

okay so I imagine the two of you on some dance floor. Like at a club. I head canon that he’s good at dancing. Effortlessly too.

The music stops and and they choose a slow song to end the evening

You’re wearing a dress that cuts off mid thigh. And he’s in a little suit. His blazers loose and his collared shirt is buttoned down since it got a little heated in the midst of sweaty bodies practically grinding up against eachother

Underneath the red and purple spotlights, specks of iridescent lights from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling arrange themselves on your faces.

He’s singing the lyrics wholeheartedly with a fox like grin while his hands roam down to your ass. Although it’s intent was far from sexual.

Atsumu Miya

Corduroy Dreams- Rex Orange County

LOVE LOVES WHISTLING IT TO YOU

Definitely does kiss you in the shower for a couple hours.

He’s fresh out of the shower and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Drops of water race down to his feet as they roll down his bare chest. You have your towel wrapped around your chest

One hand laced with his, he leads you in a slowing pace around the room with a chirpy smile.

Osamu Miya

Blessed- Daniel Caeser

i’m not sure how i made this conclusion but i’m gonna go with it

He has the prettiest voice when he sings along.

It’s not really dancing though. He has your back facing his chest while his arms enveloped on top of your collar bones and shoulders. He’s pecking gentle kisses against your cheek while rocking back and fourth to the song while you two prepare breakfast.

Keishin Ukai

Fly Love- Jamie Foxx

I imagine you two on some sort of resort of beach. You two are soaked of water but this song just happens to pop up so you stand there in his arms while he teasingly blows a cloud of smoke into your face.

Keiji Akaashi

HENTAI BY CIGARETTES AFTER SEX!!!!

okay for those of you who don’t know that song i know by the title of the song it looks sus and trust me he was definitely skeptic of it as well but give it a listen because now you’re all he ever thinks about when he hears this song.

he swears he’ll dance to this with you in his arms on your wedding day.

if you’re feeling angsty, he’d definitely hold you close and dance with you to the swan by camille saint-saëns

Wakatoshi Ushijima

I Hear A Symphony- Cody Fry

He loves how classy it sounds and it perfectly describes how he feels about you. hell it may even be his favourite song.

He felt like volleyball was his only purpose and for a while he was more than okay with that. until he met you and now he strives for more in life. Hence the whole “I used to hear a simple song” verse. loves putting emphasis in his tone when singing “perfection is so quick to bore...you are my beautiful by far” (only to himself of course) homeboy gets a little embarrassed when it comes to singing.

Daichi Sawamura

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex

I don’t even need to have a scenario for this like he just radiates this energy:((

Like imagine his cheek pressed against yours while his hand weaves through your hair

Tadashi Yamaguchi

You say I’m in love- Banes World!!!!!!!!

Head empty just you and yams dancing to this song underneath LEDs and a ceiling projector

you’re all he thinks about when he sings this song

and bubblegum by clairo- he’d tell you not to focus on the lyrics but instead the instrumental portion. he says the comforting mellow beat reminds him of you.

Kenma Kozume

Nothing- Bruno Major.

Sings the lyrics to you

You’d think he’d be too shy and youre right but it’s because he does it subconsciously.

BRO THIS WOULD LITERALLY BE HIS SONG IN A RELATIONSHIP

Aran Ojiro

Ugotme- Omar Apollo

Such a good singer as well

When the two of you dance, you two dance.

His ability to dance is almost mesmerizing along with his singing.

Sings while covering your neck and collarbones with kisses

Satori Tendou

How Deep Is Your Love- Bee Gees

Also dramatically lip syncs the lyrics to you

Lifts you up into the air and into his arm almost five times mid dance.

He’ll shake his head with his lips pressed up against your neck while his hands trail upwards and toy with the hem of your shirt, his hands hungry with anticipation to just rip it off.

and you scold him when you feel his lips contort into a devilish grin.

Kotaro Bokuto

Hopelessly Devoted To You- Olivia Newton John

hear me out. He only knows this song because akaashi made him watch grease bc he says bokuto should be exposed to the “classics” and since watching it at age 12 with akaashi and bo’s two sisters, he’s prayed that one day he’d meet someone that’d make him feel the way that song did.

He does now and everytime that songs on he’s practically carrying you in his arms.

Tobio Kageyama

Love Me Please- OCTAVIO

this is the only song he knows with the exception of old kanye west because he considers his music grind music but you definitely put him on this song.

He’s literally a psychopath who doesn’t listen to anything EXCEPT like popular rap songs from 2017-2018. And even then he’ll only tolerate it when he needs to work out.

And then he meets you. Now he listens to music in a different aspect.

He knows he’s not the most romantic guy out there but he’s trying his best and you tell him that’s more than enough. He loves you so much.

Koushi Sugawara

This Side of Paradise- Coyote Theory

he’s dragging you out of the house to dance with you to this song. bonus points if it’s raining

he’s also the type to scream-sing to love songs.

There aren’t any cars in the vicinity due to the pouring rain so the two of you make your way to the road.

Your hand in his, he twirls you underneath the storm and into his arms.

Toru Oikawa

Pretty Boy- The Neighborhood

He’ll put so much emphasis in his tone on the “Even if the earth starts shaking, you’re the only thing worth taking- with me. Even if the sky’s on fire, got you here it’s alright.” verse

You’re literally everything to him

he won’t let you go even for a second until this song is finished even then he’ll have trouble parting.

Hajime Iwaizumi

Baby I’m Yours- Arctic Monkeys cover

It’s not even dancing at this point, it’s just you two cuddling and him pretending like he hates it even though he’s the one who refuses to let go of you.

Ryonusuke Tanaka

Knockin’ Da Boots- H-town

if he’s not dancing to this with you in his arms he’s definitely ironically grinding on the floor to this with a fuck boy face.

Hitoka Yachi

two queens in a king sized bed- girl in red

I just imagine the most “call me by your name” scenery type shit.

Or maybe like a field of flowers? You just have her in your arms on some sort of picnic date she planned for the two of you

Semi Eita-

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

your arms wrap around his neck and his lips press onto yours while the two of you sway back and fourth underneath red led lights.

don’t be surprised if things get sexual.

Tetsuro Kuroo

Careless Whisper- George Michael

okay first he played this song when you were over once and he had it on so that he could initiate a little make out sess with you but when you could tell how nervous he was on making a move on you you told him that there was no pressure on anything and he sort of just danced with you instead. he ended up unironically really liking this song because of that.

(bonus: if it’s fanon kuroo he likes to dance to sway by Michael Bublé with you and the whole time he’s just eyeing you down with a sly grin)

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Beach Baby- Bon Iver

Space Song- Beach House

I imagine it’s raining horribly outside to the point where the thunder outside is retro boomin

but the windows are open because both you and Sakusa love the sound of rain pouring

he has this song playing from his record player while he hums against your neck.

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noctumbra · 4 years

Text

peaches: v

summary ─ “shoulda known,” bucky murmured, a dark and mischievous look in his eyes. she shivered excitedly.

pairing ─ dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, dancing, lap dance, riding, veery light bondage, seducing, dirty talk

a/n ─ been a while since i’ve touched this little series, but last night i had a blast. i shared my idea with @ballyhoobarnes and we sorta fueled each other. as a result, you guys had this little thing asjdhjsdsd hope you like it! (also pls excuse all the grammar mistakes, i do not like proof reading and i’m shit at grammar lmfao i’m sorry) i do not own the gif.

the song the reader dances bucky to: the weeknd - earned it (slowed + reverb)

“I need to learn how to dance,” she whined as she stepped into the kitchen where her parents were cooking together. Sam frowned slightly. “I need to learn how to dance for the spring break thing that we planned months ago.”

“It sounds a little… last minute,” Steve murmured, head cocked aside in confusion. She groaned in frustration. Letting herself sit on one of the stools, she put her elbows on the counter and placed her face between her palms.

“That’s because it is last minute,” she whined a bit more. “If stupid Denise didn’t fool around stupidly and break her leg, I wouldn’t have to beg you guys to teach me how to dance.” She buried her head on the counter, hair spilling all over. Sam smiled softly, shaking his head slowly. He gave Steve what he needed to chop and returned to his daughter.

“Well,” he started. “If you need a dance lesson, you should go to Bucky.” He grabbed the plates and placed them in front of you. “Because he was the dancer in the group. Your dad has two left feet and two right arms with a stiff back,” he mused, ignoring Steve’s cries. “I make do, but I’m not great either. So, try Bucky.” She narrowed her eyes. She did hear Bucky being a great dancer, but never seen him in action.

“Think he’d do it?” Sam chuckled.

“Oh, yes. That man loves dancing and lives for it,” Sam confirmed, and she smiled.

───

She had been hovering for a good half an hour now, and it started to get to Bucky. He set his book aside ─ he was reading The Portrait of Dorian Grey, sue him ─ and looked at her.

“Spill,” he said. “You’ve been hovering and getting between me and my new lover Dorian.” She chuckled lightly and fidgeted. “C’mon, peaches. What is it?” She huffed.

“Okay, so,” she started. “I don’t know how to dance and I need to learn it until spring break. I asked Papa and Dad, but they said they were hopeless. However, Papa said that you are really good at dancing and I should ask you.” She played with the hem of her t-shirt. “So, um. Can you teach me?” Bucky smiled at her, all fond.

“Of course,” he agreed easily. Watching her face light up, his smile widened when he heard her laugh happily.

“Really?”

“Sure, honey. I would love to teach you,” he said.

─

It had been three weeks ever since Bucky had agreed to teach her how to dance. Bucky had been nothing but a very supportive and good teacher to her: Correcting her foot when she stood wrongly, showing her how to do a specific move when it was a little complicated, sometimes, guiding her around by molding his body against her back… The list was long, and she was grateful.

One day, Bucky didn’t give her specifics, or instructions. He brought a chair with him in the room. He had a black very tight t-shirt and matching dark jeans on. His stubble was more visible and his hair looked longer. He looked amazing, and she was openly gawking while a confused look was also etched on her face. Bucky smiled.

“Alright,” he started. “I’ve been teaching you for almost a month now. I think it’s time to see if our lessons are working or not.” She frowned. When she signed up for dance lessons, she did not expect surprise quizzes. “Just find your favorite song and dance, honey. I’m not asking you to solve a physics problem.” He chuckled. She rolled her eyes at him, annoyed.

“I did not expect surprise quizzes,” she grumbled, but then shrugged, “Fine.” She toyed with her phone for a minute while Bucky stretched on his seat, getting himself ready for the show. She grinned at herself when she saw a particular song. She pressed play and grabbed a pen to put her hair into a messy bun with. As the first lyrics boomed from the speakers, Bucky chuckled darkly.

“Shoulda known,” he murmured, a dark and mischievous look in his eyes. She shivered excitedly. Shrugging her hoodie off, she walked towards him seductively. Hips swaying slowly, she twirled and roamed her hands on her body. She tugged her t-shirt a little higher cheekily, winking at Bucky when she noticed him watching.

“Relax,” Bucky murmured, instructing softly as his eyes followed your every move. She tried to do as he said: Taking a deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and swayed her hips more seductively. She inched closer to him, every flip of her hair caressed Bucky’s arms which were crossed at his chest. She placed her hands on Bucky’s thighs, forcing them apart even wider. Bucky clenched his jaw and scooted a bit forward so that he could do as she wanted. Smiling, she stepped in between them as her hips continued to their swaying slowly.

Bucky gasped lightly when she turned around and swayed her hips right over his crotch. His arms fell on his sides, hands forming fist shaped, he clenched them. Every drag of her bottom against his stirring cock made Bucky want to groan loudly, but he held himself back. He bit his lip, clenched his jaw, but never looked away.

She saw him watching and grinned. Placing her hands on his thighs again, she leaned backwards, against his chest, hips still moving slowly. She hooked her legs over his legs, arms winding on his neck while her legs were supporting her. Bucky sucked in a breath, clasping his hands behind the chair to restrain himself.

“Am I doing good so far, sir?” She asked, voice not above a whisper against his ear. Bucky shuddered and just nodded. He knew that if he tried to answer her verbally, he’d probably end up moaning her name only. He did not need that embarrassment. She smiled at the nod and lifted herself off of his body. Finally being able to breathe again, Bucky sighed with relief.

She turned, facing him. She pulled the pen out of her hair and released the tie on her wrist. She made it look like an accessory while it actually wasn’t one. Smiling devilishly, she placed her hands on the chair handles behind his head. Her face was so close to his, Bucky arched up against her unintentionally. She leaned in and gave him a kiss. Bucky whimpered softly into the kiss, making her smile. He tilted his head aside and tried to deepen the kiss. She gave him what he was searching for as she used his distraction and tied Bucky’s wrists together quickly. Bucky let out a surprised sound.

“Just lean back and enjoy,” she murmured against his lips before giving him a chaste kiss and pulling back. Bucky nodded, eyes dark.

She slipped her t-shirt off, smiling throughout. It wasn’t intentional, but she was glad that she picked her maroon lace underwear set this morning. Because it was worth the look on Bucky’s face: Eyes wide and dark, mouth open just a little and pink coloring his cheeks. Not to forget the bulge that formed in front of his jeans. Slipping her light grey shorts off, she flashed him the thong she was supporting. Bucky moaned at the sight.

“Oh, honey,” he breathed. “You look fucking amazing in this color.” She smiled shyly and thanked him. It was intentional when she bought this set. Maroon was Bucky’s favorite color. Blinking a couple times, she sat on his lap. Bucky groaned with the relieving pressure on his cock. She smiled and started to move her hips according to the beat.

Grinding slowly, she placed kisses all over his face and nibbled on the soft flesh beneath his ear. Bucky hissed in pleasure, hips bucking up involuntarily. She moaned softly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ground her hips a bit faster but deeper. Bucky threw his head back, eyes closed with pleasure and his mouth was hung open. She nipped at his chin, jaw and then kissed him. He grunted into the kiss, leaning forward to kiss her deeper. His tongue prodded against her lips, but she pulled back.

She got off of him and unbuckled his belt and his jeans. Pulling his flushed and very hard cock out of his pants, Bucky moaned loudly at the relief. She smirked at how fucking gone he was. She wrapped her hand around his cock, squeezing softly. Bucky grunted, mouth hanging open even more. He looked so debauched and fucked out already, she was going insane.

She gave him a couple strokes, smearing the precum that was leaking around his cock to make the glide easier. Bucky was a gasping, panting and moaning mess beneath her hand, and she loved every single second of it.

“More,” he moaned. “Mmm, peaches, fuck. Gimme more…” Smiling at his begging sweetly, she pulled her hand back. It was very mesmerizing to watch his cock jump and twitch and leak even more precum right after she stopped touching. She ran a fingertip from its base to head, not exactly touching; it was more like caressing. Bucky moaned brokenly when his cock jumped harshly. She could see his balls tighten, she smiled and pulled back. Bucky panted with relief.

She straddled his thighs, her back was against his chest, and pulled her panties aside. Grabbing his cock to guide him inside, she slowly sank onto him.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouted. She bit her lip, a filthy hip grinding got him panting at her neck. She pushed herself on her tiptoes and sank down again. The slight feel of his balls and the twitch of his cock gave to her every time she moaned or whimpered were driving her crazy very slowly.

“Peaches…” he moaned, his voice was rough and low. She shivered at the pet name. “Fuck, honey, faster. Please, fuck me faster.” She groaned and complied. Riding his cock for all of her worth, she leaned backwards. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Bucky panted into the kiss. His hips moving up slowly, hitting her sweet spot every time he did that. “Fuck, fuck! Oh, God…” Bucky was a mess behind her. She smirked and slipped her bra off.

The only warning she had was Bucky’s growl.

The next second was a blur. She felt his strong arms around her: One hand grabbing one of her breasts while the other one wrapped itself around her throat lightly. She moaned passionately. His hips snapping up against hers, jolting her up with every single hit, she whimpered.

“You have no idea─” He cut himself off with a moan, “─how fucking good, ah, y-you look right now. God, fuck, look at that ass, mmm.” She shuddered violently. She was only able to hold onto his arms. Bucky’s arms tightened around her and suddenly he was standing. He pushed your body against the wall, molding his body according to hers. His thrusts were deeper and harder, she whimpered.

“So fucking good,” he growled in her ear. “Such a tease you are, honey,” he murmured, grabbing her hair and pulling harshly. She gasped, head bent back, her throat was on display. Bucky licked his lips and licked a line over her pulse.

Hips still pistoning, he felt her pulse around him. Her moans were getting louder, too, he realized. “Should I let you come after the way you teased me today, huh, peaches?” He asked, voice low. She just mewled and whimpered. The words were failing her. Bucky smirked. “Oh, look how the tables turned, baby…” he whispered. Snaking a hand to her pussy, Bucky started to toy with her clit. She yelped, hips bucking against his.

“Please,” she sobbed. He kissed her neck and sucked on her sensitive skin. With one more flick of his fingers, she came around him, hard. Bucky grunted, hips still moving and he was still chasing his orgasm. She went lip beneath him, let him use her until he got what he needed. “C’mon,” she slurred, her voice was rough from all the shouting and moaning. “Come for me, sir, please.”

“Oh, peaches!” Bucky groaned loudly and let the orgasm crash through his body. His cock twitched inside her once, twice and emptied all the come Bucky had collected during her teasing. Bucky flattened her against the wall and rested his head against her shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he panted, and she giggled.

“So, sir,” she started, coking her cheekily. “Did our lessons work out good so far?” Bucky chuckled, body still sensitive and shivering from the intensity of his orgasm.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Definitely.” He held her against him tightly, moving his hips very slowly. She moaned. “But I’ll need more evidence to decide 100%,” he added. Before she knew it, she was on the bed, and he was on top of her. She chuckled.

“Thank God that I have more songs like this one on my playlist, then,” she murmured, smiling.

“Yup,” Bucky agreed, and he was on her again.

She didn’t have any time to complain, she was too busy with the new dance moves Bucky was showing to her.

───

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dad's best friend bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #peaches

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ur-favorite-queer-queen · 3 years

Text

What If...

For Maribat March day 22 theme what if...

Master List

My first Song fic, song is ‘What If’ by Johnny Orlando and Mackenzie Ziegler. Link to music video (highly suggest you watch before reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ho0WBKPJtfc

Let’s talk about all the things we shouldn’t talk about

At the park across the street, Jason could see her through the window. Her black hair falling at her shoulders. Her blue eyes full of emotions. Her small smile as she watched his friends' antics.

Those kind of words that would change all the things we talk about

Unfortunately for him at that moment, Roy shoved him hard enough he crashed into the bakery window.

Tell me do you ever think of us

That’s when her father came out, pushing him off the window and shoving Roy away.

Should I ask some more or should I stop

However as he and his friends drove off on their motorcycles, he couldn’t help but look back one last time at the girl in the window. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl he had spent all summer with.

What if a tomorrow means that we are here together

He had bumped into her after he had split up from Kor’i and Roy. He was walking around, no destination in mind, when she barreled into him.

What if we are taking chances just to lose it all

He couldn’t help but get lost in her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes. He didn’t even register what she was saying.

Am I really crazy thinking bout this all together

Next thing he knows she’s showing him around Paris, places he would’ve never thought to see.

Or have I been missing, the writing on the wall

Every new place they went brought a smile to her face, it shocked him into silence, and he couldn’t help but smile with her.

What if I say

He remembered how one day she said she was gonna take her to her favorite place in the whole world. Where she always went when she needed to clear her mind.

I know, you know

She took him to a field on the edge of Paris. Grass and flowers were everywhere and she did the classic twirling in the field. He should’ve found it cliche, but he didn’t, he just stood there mesmerized by her.

What if I told you I like you

He remembered laughing, smiling with her. Talking to her like it was the easiest thing ever, like he had known her his whole life.

We’d stay, we’d go

They had stayed there till it got dark out, where she pulled him down to lay next to her and gaze at the stars.

What if I told you I like you

He could feel his face start to warm up from the close proximity, she didn’t seem to notice. Nor did she seem to notice how her hand was still in his, not going to let go anytime soon.

I know, you know

After who knows how long he chanced a quick look at his phone, it was nearing midnight. He would need to bring her home soon.

What if I told you I like you

Reminding her that they needed to get going, she stood up but shivered, it had gotten pretty cold now.

We’d stay, we’d go

He immediately took his leather jacket off and placed it on her shoulders, much to her protests.

What if I told you I like you

He took her home, being careful not to be seen by her parents.

What if I told you I like you

Feeling a little bold he took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles.

What if I told you I like you

That was the last time he had gone near her, either her father or the Agreste boy were with her whenever she was out. Usually the Agreste boy. He wondered what if he could tell her.

I hear everything you saying, you saying bout us

She watched as he played with his friends. His black hair moving with the wind. His blue eyes dancing with excitement. His grin that broke into laughter.

It’s not about right or wrong it's about who we love

How she longed to be with him, and right as she thought that he crashed into the bakery window.

Would it be simple or would it be too complicated

Her papa ended up walking over, pushing him off the window and shoving his friend away.

Should I keep going or maybe it’s better to stop

However, as him and his friends drove off on their motorcycles, she couldn’t help but watch him go, till she could see him no more. Jason Todd-Wayne, the boy she had spent all summer with.

What if a tomorrow means that we are here together

She had bumped into him after she had finally gotten out of the bakery without her papa going with her or sending Adrien. She had planned to go to a park with her favorite secluded park to think when she had barreled into him.

What if we are taking chances just to lose it all

She apologized repeatedly, noticing he was a tourist offered to show him around Paris. And it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

Am I really crazy thinking bout this all together

She thought that instead of showing him all the famous places that he could visit anytime, she would show him her favorite places, that tourists would never even think to see.

Or have I been missing, the writing on the wall

Every place she took him to he smiled, it was such a captivating smile, one she hoped would grace his features every time she saw him. She couldn’t help but smile a little bigger when she saw it.

What if I say

She had decided, today was the day she would show him her favorite spot. Because today was also the last day she would see him, her papa was going to make sure of that.

I know, you know

She took him to a field that sat on the edge of Paris, one that had grass and flowers as far as you could see. Something out of a fairytale, she always loved to twirl around when she was here, sure it was cliche but Jason didn’t seem to mind one bit. He was even smiling at her.

What if I told you I like you

She laughed and smiled with him, he was her favorite person to talk to. It felt like she had known him her whole life.

We’d stay, we’d go

It soon was getting dark and the stars were starting to appear. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him next to her so they could gaze at the stars.

What if I told you I like you

She started pointing out constellations she knew to him, not even noticing that he was close enough to her that she could feel his body heat.

I know, you know

She closed her eyes, wishing she could stay like this forever, but all good things must come to an end.

What if I told you I like you

He reminded her that it was getting late and she should get home. She stood up but shivered from the cool air and the fact Jason was no longer her personal heater.

We’d stay, we’d go

Suddenly she felt something being placed on her shoulders, and looked up to see Jason covering her with his jacket. She tried to protest but he wasn’t listening, it was no use now.

What if I told you I like you

He took her home, making sure to keep to the shadows to not alert her parents.

What if I told you I like you

She was about to head inside when she felt her hand being lifted up and a gentle kiss was placed on her knuckles. The action was not uncommon for her, Adrien did it many times, but when Jason did it, it felt much more right than when Adrien did.

What if I told you I like you

That was the last time she could go near him. After she started coming home late her papa wanted Adrien to escort her around whenever he couldn't. After all he was her betrothed, she should start getting used to it since they were to be married next year. She wondered what if she could tell him.

What if I say

Her "friends" were at her house, helping her get ready for dinner. Aka the day that Adrien's supposed to propose, despite it only being something to feed the press. She knew why these girls were really here, they wanted to have one last shot at trying to bag the Agreste heir. How she would love to give it to them.

I know, you know

There he was down on one knee, ring in hand. Here she was wishing he was someone else. Her family and his family's eyes were on her, she couldn’t say no, so she was forced to say yes.

What if I told you I like you

He held her hand the rest of the night, called her m'lady and bugaboo. She wanted to rip his hand off of her and give him a good punch to the throat, see if he can talk then.

We’d stay, we’d go

Later that night in the privacy of her room her father spoke to her. She couldn’t mess this up for their family, be a good girl and behave for Adrien, no going near the mysterious boy she hung out with all summer. She was Adrien's now. Even though she didn’t want to be.

What if I told you I like you

Roy and Kor’i noticed their friend had been sulking ever since he last saw the girl with blue eyes and black hair. Now more than ever. So they decided to do something about it.

I know, you know

He couldn’t believe he had let them talk him into this. All the lights in the bakery were off, all except one, on the third floor. Marinette’s room. Time to get climbing.

What if I told you I like you

She had just finished cleaning her face, so that there was no evidence that she had almost cried herself to sleep. She had just slipped into his leather jacket, one of the only things she had left of him, when she heard a knocking on the trapdoor that led to her balcony.

We’d stay, we’d go

She opened the door and bluebell eyes met sea blue ones. Her bluebells widened and an almost silent gasp left her throat.

What if I told you I like you

She launched into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck as she held on tightly, afraid he would disappear if she let him go. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held on just as tightly.

I like you

She pressed her forehead against his, so close that her breath fanned her face.

Oh yeah

"You're actually here." She whispered, eyes glued to his. She was slowly taking the ring on her left ring finger off.

What if I told you I like you

"Yeah, I thought maybe I could show you around one of my favorite cities. Return the favor." He whispered, voice a bit breathless.

What if I told you I like you

"I'd love that." She moved her lips to meet his, the ring falling off and clattering to the ground. Her hands found their way into his hair, while one of his found its way into her hair.

Let’s talk about all the things we shouldn’t talk about

The only thing people knew was that Marinette Dupain-Cheng had disappeared that night. The ring that had been placed on her finger mere hours before her disappearance was left abandoned on her balcony. Found by her father and ex-fiance in the early morning, when the sun had not even come to shine yet.

Her ex-fiance would say that she had seemed so happy when he proposed. Despite knowing that her heart belonged to someone else, he had convinced himself she loved him, would learn to love him and only him. But whenever they were together and he looked into her eyes, he knew that what happened was inevitable.

Her father would be confused. He had left her room after talking with her at midnight. Had gone to check up on her around 5:30, so where could she have gone in that amount of time? None of her best friends knew either, though they were trying their best to not show their feral grins at another chance to woo the Agreste heir.

The witnesses would tell the same story, the only people they saw that night was a couple so in love the girl couldn't possibly be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. For all the public knew was that she was in love with Adrien Agreste after all, and this girl only had eyes for the boy she linked hands with. As the boy only had eyes for the girl he rode off with.

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I’m back from the dead! I have chapters as promised! Sorry I was gone for so long, school sucks and has been burying my grave so I had to focus on that for a while. But I have this and Enemies to Lovers done and am planning on doing the other days I have not crossed off on my Master List.

This is my first song fic and it was inspired by Johnny Orlando and Mackenzie Ziegler’s song ‘What If’. Everything that happens in this fic is inspired by what happens in the music video so I suggest you check that out, link is at the top. This took forever to write so I hope you enjoyed it. This is not gonna have a part 2, it’s just a one shot.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #maribat march #romantic jasonette #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #jason x marinette #what if...#song fic #johnny orlando #mackenzie ziegler #jasonette

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chasingshhadows · 3 years

Text

It was in the way she smiled.

Third grade at Liz’s birthday party, eyes scrunching up as her mouth split wide; giggling happily as she swayed around the room, fluid and graceful like a dancer. Helena Ortecho glowed in the dark light of the Crashdown, seeming totally oblivious to the eyes on her as she parted the crowd toward her youngest daughter.

“¡Feliz cumpleaños, mi hija!”

Liz could only beam back, so happy to be holding her mama’s attention. Helena pulled her into a tight hug, sticky pink lipstick leaving a mark on Liz’s cheek as she drew back, tucking a piece of candy from the piñata into Liz’s fist. She was so happy her mama was here - she hadn’t seen her in weeks. Papa kept telling them not to worry, but she’d missed her so much.

Liz didn’t notice her father frowning in the corner. She didn’t notice Mimi’s pursed lips. She didn’t notice the way her mother collapsed into the booth, unbalanced and clumsy.

She only saw her mother, bright, beautiful, happy. Que linda, Liz thought. She wanted to be just like her.

It was in the way she danced.

Liz could only watch, mesmerized. The way she kicked her heels up and carried the skirts of her dress through each movement. Even when she tumbled, spilling across chairs and tables and trashcans, she just picked herself right back up and kept spinning.

Rosa nudged at her shoulder. “Papi didn’t think she was coming back this time.”

Liz frowned. “Of course she came back. She always comes back.” Her voice sounded small and young, even to herself.

Rosa just raised her eyebrows, shrugged, and walked back through the kitchen to the stairs, pounding up them in her scuffed combat boots. Liz watched her go, eyebrows scrunched.

“Elizabeth, ¡baile conmigo!”

Liz turned back, smile growing as she watched her mother twist and sway to the beat, hands outstretched towards her, beckoning. She grinned, skipping forward into her mama’s arms, letting herself be spun and dipped.

She caught Helena at the hips when she tripped, laughing and falling into Liz. Her breath smelled of tequila and her eyes were glazed and distant when she put her hands on Liz’s shoulders to stand up straight, twirling away to the jukebox.

She was here at least. That was what mattered, wasn’t it?

It was in the way she laughed.

Loud and unashamed at Rosa’s quince, hand dropping heavily onto Jim Valenti’s shoulder where she tucked her smile. It rolled out of her, filling her corner of the ballroom like a fog. Several heads turned her way, but Rosa didn’t even so much as stutter as she chatted away with one of the Carrera boys.

“Mamá, come dance with me,” Liz said excitedly, standing and pulling at her mom’s shoulder.

“Not now, mi hija.” She swatted absently at Liz’s hand without turning and Liz dropped back on her heel, frowning.

“I’ll dance with you.”

Liz turned to see Kyle Valenti standing behind her, tilted forward on his toes, the lines of his tuxedo smooth and flattering. His smile was warm, inviting; Liz blushed, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“No.”

“Papi, please!” Liz twisted back to look at her father, let her bottom lip pop out, unafraid to beg.

He was shaking his head sternly, but her mother spoke up. “Oh, Arturo, cálmese. We’re not in México anymore, let the girl have a dance.”

“¡Gracias, Mamá!” Liz planted a kiss to her mother’s head and caught Kyle’s hand to drag him to the dance floor before her father could offer any more protests.

She pretended it didn’t hurt, that Helena didn’t even so much as glance up to witness her youngest daughter’s first dance with a boy. She’d only been back for three days and Liz couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d already left again.

It was in the way she frowned.

“No sé por qué siquiera me molesto,” Helena grumbled aloud, tripping as she stepped into Liz and Rosa’s doorway. Liz was alone, working on her science project at the desk, a representation of the energy functions within different types of cells in the body. She was about to glue the neuron graphic together, but looked up at the tone.

“Rosa is out of control.” Helena slumped back against the doorway, peering miserably at her. Liz put down her project, confused and worried. “Your father does nothing but glare at me. And my own baby girl won’t even spend an evening with me. Nobody wants me here anymo-”

Liz was already moving, up and out of the chair. “No, no, no, Mamá, I - I want you here.” She flung herself around her mother, grasping tightly. “I didn’t mean to leave, I just came to work on this while you talked to papá-”

Helena gently pushed Liz away, shrugging her shoulders and eyes glistening. “No no, I get it. It’s more important than me - you have your own life now, with no room for your poor mamá.” She turned to leave and Liz grabbed her hand in both of hers, heart clenching as she pictured her mom walking out again.

“No! Wait, please don’t leave again!” Liz swallowed, trying to think of what her mom needed to hear. “I’ll tell you whatever you want, I’ll tell you everything! Please don’t go, Mamá, I love you,” she begged.

Helena’s lips pursed and Liz held her breath, staring. Now that she looked, her mother’s eyes were totally glassed over and unfocused. She blinked a couple of times and looked over at Liz’s desk. “Well, fine. Tell me what this is.”

Liz sat down in her chair and hurriedly explained it all best she could. “The science fair is Thursday. I’m gonna win,” she added confidently.

At that, Helena finally smiled, eyes focusing and brightening for just a moment. “Yes you are, mi hija. And when you do, I’m going to be so, so proud of you.” She reached out to pinch Liz’s cheek and kiss her forehead, and Liz felt the happiness of her mother’s affection swell inside her. “I’ll take you out for cupcakes at that little bakery.”

“Yeah?” she asked excitedly. “You promise?”

Helena nodded. “I promise.”

It was in the way she cried.

Ugly and unkempt, mascara smeared down her cheeks, hair stringy and falling into her face, red dress rustling as she blew her nose. She was on the floor and leaned against the wall of the bathroom when Liz nudged open the door, following the sounds of her sniffles. Liz remembered thinking, back when she was young and naive, how pretty her mom looked when she cried, how graceful and elegant.

She wasn’t quite so naive now.

“Mom, you need to get up.”

Her mother shoved away at her, wailing into her kleenex. “No!” Helena shrieked, pitch echoing off the tile. “No. Leave me alone, I’m fine.”

Liz knelt down to her mother’s level, talking softly in a practiced tone. “Mom, you have to get off the floor,” she tried again, gentle but firm. “You can have my bed, come on.”

Helena was drunk, probably high, and slumped on the floor of the Crashdown women’s bathroom. It was early on a Saturday morning, the breakfast rush only just starting to trickle in.

That is, if there were any customers left after Helena, crying and yelling, stumbled her way into the diner. Liz was the only one that could handle her mother when she got like this, so she’d been sent to deal with her.

Helena just blinked at her, scrunching up her eyes in confusion.

“C’mon, I’ll help.” Liz extended an arm and grabbed her mother’s wrist with her other hand.

Grumbling but compliant, Helena leaned heavily on Liz, smelling heavily of tequila and thick perfume. The combination made Liz’s stomach roll, but she ignored it, carefully escorting her mother upstairs and to her and Rosa’s bedroom.

As Liz crept back downstairs to help her dad in the kitchen, she wondered when she’d gotten so used to this.

It was in the way she called.

Liz’s cell rang almost two hours after the dance started, a buzzing in her clutch as she and Alex walked around the town center bullshitting and trying to pretend they were having a great night while they waited for their respective rides. She finally managed to dig out her phone and check the caller ID, answering just as the fifth ring started.

“Hello? Mamá?”

There was a sharp intake and some rustling on the other side of the line before she answered. “Elizabeth. ¡Mi hija bonita! I thought you were at the dance!”

Alex’s eyebrows drew together when Liz answered the phone, and he was looking at her intensely as she answered.

“Mamá! I was, but I already left.” Liz took a quick breath before she continued, heart pounding. “I uh, I thought you were going to help me get ready tonight? Since it was my senior prom?”

“Oh, mi hija, I’m so sorry! That’s why I was calling. My car broke down on the way and my phone died. Lo siento mucho mi hija.” There was a pause and Liz’s heart sank - she’d bought her mom a car charger and an external battery after the last time this happened. Out of her car fund. She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the ache in her chest as Helena continued. “But! Your papi sent me a picture and you looked so lovely - it’s like I always say! You don’t need me at all,” she added cheerfully.

Liz swallowed, ignoring Alex’s stare. “Right. Well, I gotta go mami. I’m still with friends.”

Helena’s voice brightened. “Of course! I don’t want to keep you. Bye!”

Her mother hung up before she could answer and Liz pulled the phone away from her face, snapping it closed.

It was in the way she smiled.

Empty. Slick like the fish Papi ordered cheap from his buddy in San Diego for their Men in Blackened Salmon, sliding away the more you tried to hold on. She smiled like a mirage, like the hope of what you wanted most.

Like a disappointment.

#liz ortecho #helena ortecho #roswell new mexico #rnmmarchformeta2021 #rnm fanfic #this is basically the culmination of my projection onto these characters haha #i have a lot of liz & helena feelings and this is how they fell out #i just relate so much to the anger liz shows and i know where it comes from #so this is that story #alcohol abuse #mentions of drug abuse #my writing #my fic #my rnm fic #honestly this is as much a meta as a fanfic #long post (remorseful)

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Roguish Women Part 36

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 36: Kate finds herself feeling more safe and trusting with Tommy even as he struggles to reunite his family.

They tried to make the best of the remainder of their holiday, but the news of the alliance put a damper on things. They returned to Arrow House with the promise that Tommy was going to get right to work on trying to reunite his family. Ada was meant to be leaving for Boston in the next week, but Tommy put her to task one more time before she left.

“Tom, I’m on thin ice with them as it is.” Ada reminded him.

“This isn’t about pride anymore; this is about survival. If they want to survive then they should consider listening to me.” Tommy insisted from behind his desk.

“That’s your problem. If what you’re saying is true then you need to make it a joint effort instead of just controlling everything like always!” His sister snapped.

He threw his hands up. “For fuck’s sake, I’m trying my best!”

Ada frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll tell them what you told me. I guess it’s up to them how they want to respond.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ve done all I can. I want you all safe.”

She sighed and nodded. “I suppose this wasn’t just your doing.” The history with the Changrettas was long and winded but she knew each of her brothers had a play in the matter. No one could fully blame Tommy. “I’ll talk to them.”

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

Out in the stables, Kate was grooming Blue before he was trailered to Mays so he could be trained. Initially, Tommy said the gelding wouldn’t need to be there for long. They weren’t training him for the track like Buchanan. But then, he made the unfortunate error of getting on Blue just to see how he would take to the bit.

The warm-blooded thoroughbred-cross threw him so hard out of the saddle, he had a hard time getting up for a minute. Tommy assured Kate he could break the gelding in if he had the time. But decided it would be in everyone’s best interest to hand him over to May for training.

Despite the horse’s aversion to a saddle, he was very well-tempered on the cross ties. Kate enjoyed spending time with him, making his coat shine, and giving him pats and treats. Blue took a liking to her even in the brief time he was there before going to May’s. Along with dancing again, it was nice to have something to distract her. And she needed a great deal of distraction.

“You’ve made alliances too.” Alice reminded her, on their first meeting after Kate and Tommy returned from Scarborough.

“I know,” Kate mumbled.

“You probably have more people on your side than that asshole has on his. And, he’s coming to us. He’s not going to send all of his men over here, that leaves his home base vulnerable. He has one army. Can’t be more than twenty people. You have armies in Birmingham and London. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Kate nervously chewed on her fingernail. “Tommy’s family is still all over the place though.” She pointed out.

“Well, that’s Tommy’s problem to sort out,” Alice said. “He knocked down those fences, he’s the one that’s got to repair them.”

Kate was ruminating on that idea as she led Blue back into his stall. As she locked the latch, Tommy came into the stables. She could sense the irritation coming off of him as he strode down the aisle.

“Did Ada come by already? I was hoping to see her before she-”

“She left.” He answered curtly. “Sorry.”

She hung Blue’s lead line up on the stall door. “That’s okay. I could always call her later. I was just hoping to see her before she leaves for Boston.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled, not really listening to what she was saying.

“What did she say about everything?”

He shook his head. “Not now.”

But before she could protest, he took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. Despite hoping he meeting with Ada went well, Kate suddenly felt the urge to forget everything. Tommy took her breath away when he pressed her up against the polished wood door of Blue’s stall. If he was angry or upset, it didn’t show. Instead, there was a deep yearning for her.

“Tom…” She breathed against his lips. “Bring me upstairs.” She pled.

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

By the time they reached the second floor, Kate got a little nervous that it would all fall apart again. That she would have another episode.

Tommy felt her hand in his tighten. “We’ll take it slow.” He promised. “When you need to stop, we will.”

She pecked his lips before he opened the bedroom door for her. “I don’t deserve you.”

He felt quite the opposite. After all, he was the one who kept her at an arm’s distance for so long. Even though it was torture for him, he still did it.

But now, she was cradled in his arms, straddling his lap as he undid the buttons of her dress and she undid the buttons of his shirt. She carefully undid each little marker of his outward appearance. The cufflinks, the tie clip, the pocket watch, the waistcoat, all set aside.

It was rare, in Tommy’s experience, to move so slowly. In anything, but in intimacy especially. He could recall many fabric ripping, missing buttons, and torn stockings in his past. He even thought Kate might’ve been a fan of the art of frantic sex. At one point at least, daring and witty as she was. But things had changed for the both of them. Perhaps they needed to be slowed down for their own good. They’d been hurt by others, the world, and each other. There was much healing to be had.

“Alright?” He asked as she slipped out of her dress.

“Yeah.” She agreed.

“Lie back.” He helped her onto the bed, propping up a couple of pillows for her.

Although Kate felt self-conscious, she reminded herself that she was safe. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she felt his lips on her stomach, she jumped slightly but giggled. “Sorry, I’m ticklish sometimes.” She admitted, opening her eyes to see him smile.

His hands were resting on her hips, his thumb smoothed over a faded scar on her navel. “I don’t tell you how beautiful you are.”

Her cheeks warmed. “What are you talking about? Yes, you do.”

“I don’t tell you enough.” He kissed over the scar before finding her lips again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled his familiar scent. The scent of whiskey, cologne, and cigarettes mixed with a hint of the hay smell from her time with Blue. It was soothing and she kept herself grounded by knotting her fingers in his hair and repeating his name over and over in her head. Sometimes it slipped past her lips as she reminded herself she was safe because she was with Tommy. Her mind wasn’t going back to Boston, back to the nightmares she endured. She was right there in Warwickshire with the man she loved. The man she knew would never hurt her.

“Keep going.” She begged.

“I don’t want to push you, Kate.” He brushed a curl from her face.

“You’re not. I’m here with you right now.” She touched his cheek. “I’m safe with you.”

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

The late afternoon sun was finding its way through the part in the curtains. Kate was curled up in Tommy’s arms, elated at the hurdle she had overcome. Her trust for Tommy was sky high and she felt as though their bond deepened.

Both of them had gone for so long without pure, uninterrupted intimacy and it really showed. Normally, Tommy wouldn’t be caught dead lounging around in bed in the middle of the day. But for once, no one could tear him away from Kate. As if to prove his own point, he pulled her closer and kissed her neck.

She purred softly and entangled her legs in his. Opening her eyes after dozing off for a bit, she smiled up at him. “I’ve never seen you like this.” She remarked softly.

“Like what?” His hand ran soothing lines up and down her side.

“Calm. Just…not on edge.” She silently noticed warmth in his blue eyes that was so rare. Perhaps when he was younger it was more common to see. But the summer sky blue was so vibrant and heart-warming. Knowing she made him happy made her heart skip a beat.

“I’m sorry.”

Her brow wrinkled a bit. “Don’t apologize. It’s been such a hard time on everyone and you’re carrying a big burden, Tom.” She ran her fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. His eyes closed as he gratefully leaned into her touch. “I just want to be there to ease your burden like you ease mine. It’s only fair.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I don’t hear the shovels when I’m holding you.” He whispered.

There was no need to explain. Kate knew. When Tommy held her at night, she didn’t see Santo’s body bleeding out, or her mother’s body being dragged out of the river. She didn’t hear the screams of people as Santo burned her building down or the sound of him shouting at her. It was all near silent. All she could hear was Tommy’s soft breathing as he fell asleep against her. His familiar scent overwhelmed her with comfort. His heart beating near her was mesmerizing.

“I love you.” She whispered into his hair. “I love you more than I could ever put into words.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #ofcs #ocs #season 4 #ada shelby #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy #cillian murphy thomas shelby

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lady-snavely · 3 years

Text

Sands of Time: Part One

Chance Encounters

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem!OC

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, mutual pining, all the fluff

A/N: reblogs are super appreciated and, if anyone’s interested, I’ll start a tag list

In the innocent years of childhood, Jade first met him. It wasn't a long meeting, only an hour or two, in fact. She had been playing on her own in a nearby forest when she felt the desire to wander. Her wings glittered as she hopped from sun pocket to sun pocket. Her laughter, loud and jovial, filled her ears until the sounds of a boy crying had caught her attention and she quieted. It was the curiosity of a child that sent her straying that much further from her family home.

Not too far from where she'd been playing, Jade found the boy. From what she could tell he had tripped and skinned his knee. She watched him curiously from behind a tree for a few heartbeats before that curiosity pulled her further. Her father's warning of Humans was the farthest thing from her mind as she approached the boy.

The boy had dried his tears quickly when he first saw her before staring, mouth agape. "Are you real?" He'd managed to whisper, awestruck.

A smile danced on her lips and her nose crinkled when she giggled. "Are you?" Jade had countered easily.

The boy frowned and stood, his injured knee forgotten as his own curiosity blossomed. "But you have wings and your ears are pointy and you're flying!"

It was then that her father's warning of Humans rushed back to her. But he was little and, according to Jade's oldest sister, Human children made up all sorts of stories that their parents brushed off as make believe. "Wanna see a magick trick?" Jade asked in reply, settling her bare feet gently in the grass. The boy nodded his head eagerly. "Close your eyes and count to ten," she instructed.

When he did she concentrated. It wasn't a painful transformation, only slightly uncomfortable as her Faerie wings shrank back into her shoulder blades and she grew an inch or two in height. Her ears rounded out and became more proportional. Jade's transformation to her Humanoid form completed just as a resounding "TEN!" echoed around her.

"How did you do that!" The boy hurried around Jade in wonder. He poked at her back and picked at her hair trying and failing to find where everything was hidden. "Where did they go?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you." Human's most commonly greet with a handshake, her mother had told her once so she stuck her hand out. "Call me Jade. Like the stone."

The boy took Jade's hand with only slight hesitation. "Kuroo Tetsuro but my friends just call me Tetsu-chan."

"Tetsu-chan." Jade smiled. She wasn't sure what to think, what with his name sounding like honey in her ears and her heart leaping like wildfire in her chest.

For being children they were surprisingly content with sitting in the woods and talking. Sure they played some too but they mostly talked. Jade told Tetsu-chan all sorts of stuff about her people that he believed were just stories but were real. She told him about the time her oldest sister, Nyra, tried to run away with a wood nymph only to be brought back after a couple of days by the nymph's mother. She told him about the time when she was littler when her parents first found out she possessed the ability to wield weather magick like her mother. Tetsu-chan had clung to every word, mesmerized by the idea of Fae and what they could do.

When Tetsuro's father burst through the trees Jade had been so frightened that her concentration faltered and she shifted back to her Fae form. Instinct alone had her fleeing.

"Tetsuro, you were supposed to be fetching water." The voice boomed through the trees, anger and disappointment evident by the man's stance alone.

"I made a new friend, Papa! She's – " Tetsuro's smile disappeared when he didn't see her "-Jade?"

Almost half a mile away Jade was alighting on solid ground again. Her ears, once again pointy, twitched at the sound of her name, still heard clearly despite the distance. How badly she wanted to go back to him; to at least say goodbye to Tetsu-chan; to see his smile once more. Her chest ached in unfamiliar longing.

Jade's father had not taken her meeting with the Human boy well. The Human always pays the price he had explained when he had come back home with blood on his hands.

It would be the first time Jade cried over the loss of Human life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Half a century passed before they crossed paths again. Still considered a preteen by Faerie folk, Jade had yet to leave her family. She was doing the washing in the stream not too far from their new home when she heard a brother and sister approaching on the opposite bank. Her transformation from Fae to Humanoid form took but a few seconds.

Though they were loud as they jumped into the stream she thought little of them as she hung the washing to dry. It wasn't the first time someone had come along to swim in the stream, it wasn't horribly deep and it was partially shaded to boot. The pair ignored her as she planted herself under a tree to read and wait for the sun to work its magick.

"Tetsuro, leave her alone!" A scolding voice disrupted Jade's reading some time later.

Tetsuro. Now, that was a name she hadn't heard in quite a long time. Curiously, she peered around the trunk of the tree. Though he was trying to hide in the brambles nearby Jade spotted him quickly. "Hello, Tetsu-chan," she greeted with a wave.

He stood to his full height, approaching Jade with a frown. "Do we know each other?" He wondered.

"Oh, forgive me, I overheard your sister, I presume-" Jade gestured to the girl still in the stream "-call for you just a moment ago. I'm Jade."

"Like the gem." Tetsuro smiled.

Jade masked her shock with a laugh. "Like the gem," she repeated. The smile and remark were just the same as they had been then too.

"Your washing is going to take a while to dry, why don't you join us?" Tetsuro suggested.

"Thank you but I just started a new book." She held her book up for emphasis, grimacing in apology.

Tetsuro sat against the tree just out of eyesight. "I don't know how to read," he admitted quietly, embarrassed.

"Maybe I could teach you." The suggestion was out of her mouth before intuition told her to stay quiet.

"Is it a good story?"

Jade grinned down at the pages she'd reread a handful of times now. "I think it is," she decided to say.

Tetsuro inched closer, his shoulder brushing Jade's as he peered at the book in her lap. "Just looks like a bunch of scribbles."

Jade ran an affectionate hand over the open page before nodding. "In a way they are but they have meaning and put together the way they are they make up the story." She glanced sidelong at him. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

After some time Jade stopped reading to check on the washing. Tetsuro was disappointed when she told him she would be heading home now that it was done. However he had gone back to swim with the promise to come back in a few days. Though his presence had shook her, somewhere in Jade's heart she was thrilled at seeing him again. Unfortunately she didn't see him again while they lived in that cottage and so said nothing to her parents of her run in with the strangely familiar boy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When she heard the name again, it was from a weeping mother cradling a small bundle in her arms. The plague that had swept through the country had taken him as an infant.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Centuries passed, yet with the passing of time she never forgot about the boy with the scraped knee, the boy by the stream and the baby taken too soon. How could she when that longing she first felt when she ran from his father all those years ago was ever present when he wasn't.

In the new life she created for herself, she was a healer in the castle of the king. He was a tyrannical man, feared by his people and family alike. The queen stood in stark contrast to her husband. Loved by anyone she came in contact with and Jade was no exception. Queen Hana was polite and remembered names; remembered the little things. She often visited Jade, turning to her for comfort both as healer and friend.

On one such occasion, she had entered Jade's chambers in tears. She was with child. At first Jade had been elated by the news until the queen was pleading for something, anything that would take care of the baby.

Normally Jade didn't bat an eye when someone came to her requesting the simple solution. Yet for some reason there was a desperation, not unlike the queen's, that drove her to argue the logic. They deliberated for the better part of an hour before the queen had used her status to demand what she desired.

Jade had stood and gone to her supply shelves in silent reluctance. In the back corner of one of the shelves, hidden among healing plants and medicines, was the concoction she took in her hands.

"Remember, just two drops in your goblet each night for a week should you decide it's truly what you want." Jade passed the queen the jar with a pained smile. "If not, you saw where the jar goes. I won't say a word either way."

In the end the queen had given birth to a boy. Her fear of how her husband would have the child raised had brought her back to Jade's chambers just a few weeks after the birth.

"I've made a terrible mistake," the queen hunched over her sleeping child. Tears spilled from her eyes. "I should've used the medicine you gave me."

As much as it pained her, Jade moved silently to her shelves just as she had all those months ago. "It should only take a drop or two on your finger and letting him suckle it to help put him to sleep." When the queen frowned Jade nodded and placed the jar in her friends hand, squeezing just enough to let Hana know she was with her before whispering, "It will be painless, like falling into a deep sleep."

The queen was quiet for a few heartbeats before nodding. "You never asked about his name, you know."

It was Jade's turn to frown. The hair on the back of her neck rose with the sudden slice of worry that coursed in her veins. "Why would I ask about the prince's name? Is he not named after his father?"

"He doesn't have my husband's name." The queen smiled triumphantly though tears still glistened in her eyes. "Not officially anyway. He carries my family name and we named him after my grandfather."

Head swimming with questions Jade had fled the castle that night. She knew the queen's lineage but needed answers all the same. How and why was this Human coming into her life for moments and days at a time? Why did the death of a Human make her chest ache so?

The news swept the kingdom, reaching her two days later. Prince Tetsuro was dead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A millennia of research yielded no definitive answers for Jade but there was no denying Kuroo Tetsuro was in a reincarnation cycle. In most instances it was a quarter century or so before he was brought back to the world. Sometimes it was longer than that before he and Jade crossed paths again. Even fewer instances allowed them more than a day or two of interaction.

In every case he was Human. In every case but the first Jade hid the truest parts of herself. She beat around the bush about her family and where she was from. She was sure that, one of these times, he would remember something, anything, from his past lives. There was no telling what would happen if he did or what he would remember.

Nyra didn't understand the infatuation surrounding the Human boy or the sudden interest in reincarnation. She'd made herself clear on that after Jade had reluctantly come to the family home after one of the longer stretches she'd had with Kuroo.

She was glad when they ran into each other again that she still passed for being in her early twenties. He'd courted her and after some time asked for her hand. The ceremony had been small and intimate. Then, after spending his early twenties with her by his side he had gone to war only to come back in a box. As much as the loss had hurt, Jade hadn't been surprised. It was the only reason she'd insisted she hadn't wanted kids.

Still she had spent the better part of three days holed up in the local library, a building standing four stories tall and spanning almost half a city block, waist deep in books. Nyra had been tasked with dragging her sleep deprived sister back to the family home where she laid into her about how reckless she was being over some stupid Human.

They didn't speak to each other for the better part of a century.

M.List | Next

#haikyuu x oc #kuroo tetsuro x oc #kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu!!#snavelywrites #sands of time

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ladywynneoutlander · 4 years

Text

Heart’s Abundance

Part 6 - Clear as Joy, Bright as Hope

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

This is the last installment. I really hope you enjoyed the story. You can find it here on AO3 as well. Happy New Year!

**********

Hogmanay is a festive affair, despite a freezing rain and dropping temperatures. The house is full of people. There is dancing and merrymaking right up until the moment Roger takes on his traditional role as the first foot. After he enters and presents Jamie with gifts of an egg, wood, salt, and whiskey the inhabitants of the Ridge scatter like birds so they will be ready to greet Roger at their own doors. Jamie and I follow him and Brianna onto the porch and wave them on their way.

Just as we turn to go back inside William steps up. “If I might have a moment?” The boy looks sober, nervous, and somehow eager. A strand of chestnut hair is loose on his cheek, freed by the evening’s fun.

Jamie smiles. “Aye, of course. What’s to do?”

“I was hoping to speak with you. I’ve had it in my mind for a while,” William glances sideways at me, and I give him an encouraging look. “And the new year being upon us I thought there could be no better time.”

Jamie seems surprised but gestures toward the dooryard. “Aye. Walk wi’ me then?”

William nods. Jamie bends to take a lantern from the stoop and I reach inside the house for his cloak. William takes up his own lantern. Jamie bends to kiss my cheek. And they step off the porch together, heading toward a path leading up the mountain. As the two men make their way into the night, cloaks held tight against the chilling weather, I watch until I can no longer see the bobbing of lanterns or hear the crunch of boots.

I stand for a moment longer, listening to the ping of half-frozen droplets on the roof, hoping these two very stubborn men will finally come to terms with one another. A gentle urge to pray for them moves through me. So I do, my arm wrapped around the porch post. I silently pray for the young man seeking his place, straddling the gulf between familiar English aristocracy and a whirl of newfound Scottish kin. And for the other, my Jamie, who I know longs for closeness with his son. For the relationship sacrificed early on, the necessity of which was accepted but evermore grieved. I can see the flicker of new-sprung hope in Jamie, kindled by William’s presence, and so my prayer is simple. Lord, please. Give them back to each other.

-o0OOO0o-

Jamie and William return a little time later. I have been waiting up for them, and as they enter I see the ice has turned to light snow. No one says a word, but Jamie’s smile tells me everything I need to know.

They hadn’t gone far, just up the hill to the cavern we use as a stable. Jamie sat on a bale of hay and gestured for William to do the same. The lad declined, too full of nerves to sit. Instead he paced a step or two then turned to look at Jamie. “The time has come for me to make some decisions regarding the course of my life.”

Jamie nodded, but didn’t speak so William continued, leaning against the railings behind him and gesturing as he talked. “Do I embrace this new land? Make it my own? Or do I return and take my place as Earl? I have a task to complete come spring. But then…” He trailed off for a moment, then shrugged. “Then my life is my own. To shape as I will.” He turned to Jamie. “And before I decide on that shape, I should like to know exactly how things are between us.”

Jamie spread his hands. “Speak ye’re mind lad, or ask what you will. I’ll be honest with ye.”

William nodded, seeming suddenly hesitant again, and finally sat on his own bale across from Jamie’s. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “When I found out you were my father, I’m afraid it was rather a shock. I was angry, felt betrayed. I would like to apologize for that.”

Jamie made a dismissive gesture, “Nay worry. I understand.”

“Do you, indeed? Well then, good.” William let out a breath and sat up straight. “I also understand why you and Papa did what you did for me as a boy - to a point. But why keep it from me later? When I came to the colonies, why not tell me then? By law I’m an earl either way.”

Jamie rubbed his jaw, eyes on William. “Aye, that’s true. It just seemed a hard thing for a man to take, and it wasna likely we should ever meet.”

“But we did meet. We were in the same city for God’s sake. Did you....” William unconsciously clenched his big hands. “Did you not want a son? I mean, it could complicate matters for you, with Mother Claire or Brianna maybe.”

“Och no! I wanted ye. I’ve always wanted ye William. Believe that if nothing else. No. ‘Twas only I thought you better left as you were, secure in yourself. But I’ve always wanted ye.”

Suddenly William stood, impatient, and his blue eyes flashed in the lantern-light. “You say so. But you left me. You had me with you at Helwater and you left me.”

Jamie felt his color rising and took a deep breath, “And I’m sorry for it. I had to leave. People were noticing the resemblance.”

“Do you know that I never forgot you? You’re leaving was....” William turned away, facing toward two sleepy heifers in their stall. “Well, I didn’t understand. I was only six. One day we were inseparable and the next you were gone.” Jamie sees William’s tense shoulders slump and the next words come softly, but with an intensity that tears Jamie’s heart. “I grieved for you.”

Jamie slowly came to stand beside William at the railing. “I mourned your loss as well.” He laid a hand on William’s shoulder. “I thought of you and prayed for ye. I never forgot you. William, lad, you are my son. I love you dearly and always have.”

The broad back under Jamie’s hand rose and fell in what might have been a sob. Then William swiped at his cheeks with his sleeve and faced him in the dim light. “If I’m your son then I’d like very much...for you to be my father.” He rushed to prevent Jamie’s response. “I’m no longer a little boy. I don’t want anything from you, not money nor even public acknowledgement. I’d never take what is Brianna’s. All I want sir..Jamie..is you as a father, and to be your son.”

Jamie’s own eyes grew moist, “Nothing. Nothing would please me more.” Jamie reached under his shirt and withdrew a beechwood rosary. The very one he gave William all those years ago. Wordless, he offered it once again.

William looked down at the beads, glossy with age, and he finally understood. His feelings of mixed loyalty, of fear, have all been unnecessary.What he had with Lord John and what he had lost could never be replaced; but there could still be. There is room in his heart for Papa and Mother Geneva and Mother Isobel. For Jane and Fanny. And there is still yet room for Jamie and Mother Claire, for his strange sister Brianna, for Ian and Jem. For all of them. He found there is space in his heart to embrace them all, places as unique as snowflakes for each of them, and fitting them there needn’t displace other loves.

And he realized too, that Jamie’s heart held a similar space for him. He looked at Jamie, his father, and saw tenderness and joy looking back. He does want me. The realization was as cleansing as cold water. This father truly did want him in his life. William felt tears gather anew in his eyes as he took the rosary.

“Da,” he croaked blindly. He didn’t have to take a step before he felt arms around him, and he was a little boy rescued from the mist once again. Safe, and finally, secure in his place.

-o0OOO0o-

Jamie and I steal down the stairs as quietly as we can, feeling almost giddy with exhaustion as we make our way outside in the freezing pre-dawn. The last stars shine far above us, the snow ended, and the horizon is lightening over the distant peaks of the Blue Ridge mountains. Jamie unfolds the quilt he carries and wraps us both in it, his natural heat soon warming the interior of our shelter even as our ears and noses grow cold. He links his hand with mine and we watch, mesmerized, as the sun rises. Everything is coated in clear ice, each tiny branch a singular thing of beauty. The first rays spark and glint, and in an instant the clearing is lit in a crystallized splendor of rose and gold. We are suspended in the moment. It is beautiful and sacred, joyful, and hopeful above all. A new year.

We stand for minutes, but as the sun separates from the horizon Jamie takes a deep breath, lets is out, and time is moving again. Homey kitchen sounds reach our ears and Jamie turns to me. “I never thought to be so blessed. Never in life.” He puts his hands on my hips and draws me closer, the quilt slipping unregarded from our shoulders. “Claire, after Culloden... I despaired of ever being more than a ghost haunting the place he was happiest. Then you returned, and I was alive again. And the weans, it is you who made our family possible. Not just Brianna, but William too. You bridged the gulf between them and me, both of time and the heart.” He brought one of my hands to his chest, folded it, and held it in one of his, his other arm pulling me even more tightly against him. “You are the beginning and the end of this family mo nighean donn. No matter what the year brings, war or anything else, thanks to you I can face it in the knowledge my family is loved, and that they ken it well.”

I blink and a tear slips warm down my cheek, catching on the curl of my lip as it wavers with a smile. Having no words I stand on tiptoe to kiss him. Just before our lips meet, he whispers, “I love you.”

“And I love you, Jamie. Always.”

#heart's abundance #outlander

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brandonkbills · 4 years

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Ghost concert on Acid

Back in September a friend of mine introduced me to Ghost, showed me some of their more popular songs and music videos and my fancy you could definitely say was tickled. I was instantly drawn to the costumes and the theatricality of them. I’d continue to listen to their more popular songs like Square Hammer, Cirice, Rats, Dance Macabre etc.

He invited me to come see them with him on their Ultimate Tour Named Death in SLC, Utah. I was immediately down. I was so looking forward to this show but had no idea what exactly I was in for.

In the parking lot he offers me some LSD and he was expecting us to just microdose but feeling brave I decide on taking the full tab. Things feel pretty normal as I groove to Twin Temple, the Satanic doo-wop band who’s opening for them. I look over to my friend, he has another tab of LSD on his fingertip and offers it to me. We both take an additional tab, we’re going in balls deep now.

Twin Temple ends their set and the audience waits with anticipation. I start to really feel something as I watch the people in the pit from the seats above; they move around like their own living organism. Suddenly, black out. The audience roars eagerly waiting for the show to begin. They kick it off with Ashes immediately followed by Rats and just rock my dick off immediately but even the instant dick rocking couldn’t prepare me for what was to come. Cardinal Copia is just mesmerizing to watch on stage. It’s immense fun to watch him dance around and sing all so passionately, and his intense sexual charisma is just hypnotic. He’s especially delightful in between songs. He holds the audience in the palm of his hand. Then he ominously utters “We’ll see how well we get to know each other” I now know shit’s gonna get crazy. The Cardinal asks the crowd “Are you all feeling tingly yet?? No? We’ll get you there.” I’ve no idea what that’s about.

I’m now tumbling down deep, dark mental roads during this badass satanic spectacle. The two Ghoul guitarists begin a riff off. A Heavy Metal Ghoul Duel if you will. My mind’s digging far down into my soul as these two masters of their instruments pull out deep rooted interpersonal quandaries from within my psyche. It’s like each guitarist is a little ghoul on my shoulder and each have their turn making their solos a chance to make their case. The Ghouls guide me down this train of thought as the black guitar Ghoul leads to the thoughts “You’ve always been curious of Satanism but that’s not you. You’re really not a Satanist.” I’ve never seriously considered the thought of being a Satanist. The Ghoul with the white guitar brings me to “Oh? And Why’s that? What exactly about it do you not agree with?”. I think to myself “Oh shit”. I don’t disagree with any of their ideas necessarily. Independence from Religion and being the Master of your own reality sound pretty fuckin cool to me. I stand in awe as these two ghouls shred opposite the stage from one another across the checkerboard floor. It’s like a mental chess match and it’s no question that by the end of it the white guitar ghoul was the victor. “I’m just tripping, I’m on drugs.” I think to myself. “Just because the white ghoul won the guitar battle doesn’t mean I’m a Satanist now...but also it doesn’t mean I’m not...I’ll keep an open mind”. The song continues to rock on and they just absolutely dominate the arena. After the song, the audience blows up with applause. I clap. Man, I clap so hard. I clap so hard I can hardly feel my hands and before I know it, I feel this insane vibrational aura around my hands. The Cardinal speaks with certainty “Oh yeah, You’re feeling tingly now”.

Holy fucking shit.

Miasma starts. I’ve never heard this song before but I’m instantly digging it and jamming away and then Papa Nihil appears out of thin air in a cloud of white fog with this epic fucking Saxophone solo. This is easily the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever witnessed. A Satanic Pope with sunglasses fuckin blowing everyone away on a Sax like Bill fucking Clinton on late night. What could be cooler?? It’s equal parts mind blowingly ridiculous and hilariously awesome.

Now I’ve been to concerts where during a song I’ve thought to myself “This is fine but I can’t wait for the next song”. This is not one of those concerts. I’m totally enthralled by every single set entry. Every single god damn song’s just incredible. The whole show is an audible and visual feast. There are times I catch myself just gazing into the stained-glass style mural in the back. There’s a faux painted portrait of Papa Nihil in the center of the mural. Spirit starts. Papa Nihil’s forehead breaks into fractals and starts to dance and weave into itself infinitely. I begin to suspect Ghost has tons of fans who trip and it’s just a thing that Ghost is aware of. I don’t know how true this is. Either way the idea is entertaining.

From the Pinnacle to the Pit has me staring at the stage during a guitar solo as I literally feel my fucking face melt off. Meanwhile slowly forming a grin on my face like some crazy demon man just to have a *POP* sudden burst of fireworks into a blackout that slaps that silly fucking grin off my face and my jaw nearly drops to the floor.

I start to notice that some people just are not as into the concert as I am. I’m assuming they are just Mormons and/or other religious folk who showed up unaware of how inherently Satanic Ghost’s music is.

Spöksonat begins, it’s very dark on stage but there are these bright blue/violet shapes beaming out from the darkness and some people around me get headaches and exit. I interpret this as weak-minded religious sheep/mormons whose meek minds can’t handle Ghost’s awesome and enchanting music. They’re too buried in their illusory faith. Again, idk how true this is but I love to believe this. It’s definitely what I believed at the time of the trip.

He is starts. I begin to realize. This is my new faith. I am in awe. The song is composed and performed with such conviction and love, I think to myself “If this is Satanism’s attempt to convert me and this much effort was put in to this to make it this beautiful... I just don’t want to refuse.” The next song begins. Mummy Dust. Which in the Cardinal’s words is “So gosh darn Infernally fucking heavy that it will not only wobble your asses but it will TICKLE YOUR TAAIINNNTS” and tickle my taint it does.

Kiss the Go-Goat is yet another excellent groovy jam but then Dance Macabre comes on right after, ooooh shit buddy I get excited. I start clapping and dancing, I stand up on the stairs, grab the railing and whip my hair around. I dance my god damned heart out and as I dance I see the Cardinal walk to the left side of the stage and he looks right at me, I fucking felt it. He nods approvingly and returns to performing. I finally feel like I fully understand the lyrics as I see this song live. “Just wanna be, wanna bewitch you all night”. That’s Tobias Forge not just saying he wants to be with us all night but he wants to enchant and perform for us all night because that is what this brilliant master of his craft was born to do. He has as much fun as the audience does at these shows, if not, more. This song would’ve been a damn fine closer but as stated in the lyrics, he didn’t wanna end like that.

Square Hammer hits and it hits hard. People are losing their minds, myself included. Still riding the energy of that last song, I head bang my soul out of my damn body. Once again, I fully understand the lyrics. “Are you on the Square? Are you on the level? Are you ready to swear right here right now, before the devil?”. I realize absolutely fucking am. When the show ended The Cardinal waved everyone goodbye and you could see how thankful he was for an audience and I’m still not sure if this was the drugs or a special effect (pretty sure it was the drugs) but each band member appeared to have strings like a marionette while waving goodbye and bowed to the audience and the audience appeared to having strings too. It looked like a lighting effect but I still have no idea how that happened, most likely a hallucination. So fucking cool regardless.

I left the arena drenched in sweat, baptized into a new yet familiar world. I don’t see life the same way I did before (but hey, that’s LSD for you). I realized through this trip how badass the symbol for rebellion against tyranny really is. Along with the profound nature of freedom from religion and realizing self divinity; that you the individual possess powers of a god and most importantly, I just had a good fucking time. My first Ghost concert was a religious experience and one hell of bash. They’re easily my favorite band now and I’ve been listening to all their albums on repeat and I can’t wait till I can see them again.

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #lsd #acid #rock concerts #ghost #ritual #psychadelic

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nicole-lynne · 5 years

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Your Baba Yaga

Summary: You’re the daughter of Viggo Tarasov and the Baba Yaga is just too terrifying and tempting. You try to ignore your thoughts of him but he has other ideas. (This is when John still worked for Viggo)

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Warning: NSFW 18+!!

You rolled over as the chirping birds brought you back to the real world, your hands slid across cool silk sheets. It was a beautiful morning with the sun shining brightly through the window. You laid on your back and stared up at your canopy. There was a million things you could be getting done, but you couldn’t resist taking a few moments to yourself.

The past few days had been crazy around your house. Your father, Viggo, had been on edge and every little thing would set him off. He’d go around slamming things around and yelling at all of the staff. Every time it happened, it had rocketed your anxiety higher and higher. You wished that he would tell you what was going on, but whenever you’d asked, he’d give you a look that could pierce through your soul. So instead, you had tried to steer clear of his path.

With a heavy sigh, you flung the comforter off and swung your legs out of bed. You stripped off your sleep shorts and yanked on some jean shorts to replace them, deciding that your worn Mötley Crüe tank top would suffice. Glancing in the mirror, you ran your fingers through your tangled hair, making an attempt to tame the mane. Giving up to the impossibility of it, you swiped some mascara along your lashes and smacked some chapstick on your lips.

As you hurried down the stairs, you paused at the bottom when your eyes fell on your father sitting at the dining table. He was holding up the newspaper, but you could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

“Good morning, papa.” You said as you moved into your chair. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in everyone who was in the room.

Your father’s eyes flickered up to meet yours with surprise, but a small smile appeared. “Good morning, my flower.”

As you spooned some fruit onto your plate, a man rushed into the room and over to your father. In a hushed tone, he gave your father information. He was speaking in Russian and you couldn’t catch what they were saying, but when your father responded, you made out the words, “Baba Yaga”.

A shiver rushed down your spine at the name as much as you hated it. The only good thing that had come from avoiding your father lately had been that you were also avoiding your father’s employee, John Wick.

John Wick was a man who worked for your father when he needed the dirty jobs done, and he didn’t have a problem doing it. He was extremely handsome, a little bit rough, and sometimes, you had to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest when you saw him. But also, the things he’d done terrified you. It was easier in the long run if you could just avoid any contact or feelings you might have for him.

Your father interrupted your thoughts as he placed his hand on top of yours.

“Y/N, my flower, I know I have been quick to anger recently,” His grey blue eyes were drilling a hole into you, “but there have been some things going on. Things that could put you in danger. And I cannot have that. So... until that threat has been neutralized, John will be staying here at the house with you.” Your stomach dropped.

Your face pinched up tight with anger. “No. No way.”

“Wh-what? Don’t be silly, Y/N.”

“I’m not being ridiculous,” I could not be alone with that man...that gorgeous man. “I don’t want to be watched every time I move a muscle.”

Viggo’s eyes flitted to the door and you followed his glance. John was standing there, hands clasped in front of him. He looked stoic. He hadn’t been there when you first came downstairs. You swallowed down the lump in your throat that had grown from seeing him in an all black suit and his hair slicked back perfectly.

“You don’t have a choice in this, Y/N. He will be here..”

“This is so stupid. I will not be followed by him like a child. How ridiculous. He’s a glorified babysitter.” You were lost in your rant.

Your father slammed his hand on the table and everything went silent. “This is the way it will be. You are not being given an option. I make the rules and this is happening. Now, stop acting like a brat.” He said through gritted teeth.

With a scowl, you looked between your father and John. “Fine, do whatever you want.” You hissed and stormed out of the room. Faintly, you could hear your father mumble about how stubborn you were and then the door to the garage slammed shut.

~~~

You stayed in your room for a good portion of the day, hoping that this whole morning would disappear. Deciding you better emerge, you slipped down the stairs quietly and entered the kitchen. Your stomach had been growling for an hour now and you were craving a huge bowl of cinnamon toast crunch. It was quiet at the house and you were sure that everyone had left for the day.

Thoughts of John where dancing around in your head, wondering where he was or what he was doing. As you stuck your spoon in your snack, you felt a body come up behind you.

“I think you’ve been avoiding me.” A soft voice said.

You turned around to face deep chocolate eyes gazing at you with amusement, a smirk gracing his lips. Your stomach flipped somersaults at the sight of his dark suit against the bright white cabinets. But you hoped to appear indifferent, so you rolled your eyes.

“I think your ego is getting too big for your body. I haven’t even thought about you.” You turned back around and prayed your face had stayed a normal color.

John laughed loudly and stepped closer to you. “We both know that’s a lie, Y/N.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” You stammered. Your eyes still focused on the counter.

“I know you think about me. I see you, I see everything. And I know when you’re trying to avoid me.” His chest was pressed against your back, the beating of his heart echoed against you. “You think I don’t see the way you look for me when you come into a room. The way your face flushes when we make eye contact, and then you ignore me for the rest of the day. I love knowing the effect I have on you.”

John’s hands were tracing up your bare arms like feathers and goosebumps were forming. You swallowed thickly, trying to clear your throat. “Yo-you’re wrong. I don’t think about you. I hate you.”

“You hate me?” John’s chuckle was right in your ear. “If you hate me, walk away. Walk away and I’ll never bring this up again.”

His hands stilled and your skin was on fire from the touch. You knew he was giving you an out, but the thought of walking away from him made you feel nauseous. This, he, was something that haunted your dreams every night.

His voice interrupted your thoughts. “I think about you too, Y/N. All the time.” Your heart was pounding with excitement and terror.

“You...you do?” This wasn’t making any sense.

He pressed his lips to the side of your exposed neck, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Of course. You’re gorgeous, brilliant, and stubborn as hell. I can’t get you out of my head.”

John’s hands resumed moving along your skin and a whimper escaped your lips at the feeling. He smirked into your hair. His arm reached around you and his hand came up to caress your breast through your shirt. You let out another soft whimper at the feeling and you tilted your head, allowing him better access.

“You have to tell me if you want to stop. I’ll stop when you want.” John said into your ear and then pulled your earlobe in between his lips. You nodded to show that you understood and then you ground your ass against him. The feeling of his dick pressed against your backside and he groaned with pleasure.

“You are such a naughty girl, aren’t you, Y/N? You want me to teach you a lesson?” His lips were against your neck again, his teeth scraping against your skin in painful pleasure. John’s hand slipped under the top of your tank top and into your bra. He rolled his hand over your hard nipple, then gripped it between thumb and forefinger and pinched.

The feeling of his skin on yours was intoxicating and you wanted nothing more than to savour this. But you wanted to tease him just a little bit more.

“I guess you can try, if you think you’re good enough.” You tried to sound as sultry as possible. John stilled behind you and he looked at the side of your face in delight.

A grin spread across his face and he started pressing hot kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His other hand left your hip and moved down your stomach to the top of your shorts. Your heart leapt in expectation as his fingertips dipped below the hem occasionally.

“Let’s see how bad you really want me, princess.” John skillfully popped the button on your shorts and slid his hand in, agonizingly slow. Your heart was slamming against your chest, the teasing was terrible.

“John, please...” You whimpered pathetically. As you said that, he swiped his index finger through your folds and felt how dripping wet you were. The rough calluses on his hands were delightful against your supple skin.

He collected the wetness on his finger and rubbed lightly against your clit. “Is all this for me, Y/N?”

Your head lolled back against his shoulder, your eyes closed in ecstasy, the feeling of his fingers against your bundle of nerves was almost more than you can handle. As he continued to rub against you, you turned your head and opened your eyes to find him watching you intently. His eyes were mesmerizing. Slowly, you lifted your lips up to him and finally made connection. His lips were soft against yours but demanding, wanting more. His tongue swept across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him in, your mind thinking of all the other things he could do with that tongue.

Skillfully, his fingers toyed with your entrance, just enough to have you panting in anticipation. Then he pumped a finger into you and your knees almost gave out. His other arm held you closer to his body to hold you steady.

He plunged his finger into you a few times, then suddenly, he pulled his hand out of your shorts and yanked them down to your ankles. You yelped in surprise and heat rose to your cheeks as he trailed kisses down the curve of your spine. His tongue darted out and left a trail of fire along your backside. When he reached your ass, his hand moved up to push you forward on the counter.

“Bend over, princess.” John’s husky voice sent another round of shivers through you.

The counter tops were cold against your chest and made you moan with satisfaction. John’s hands gripped your ass cheeks and squeezed, and you could feel his lips placing kisses on each cheek. Then he tapped your ankles, ordering you to spread wide for him.

You wanted to feel embarrassed to be this exposed to him, but then you felt a cool breath against your pussy lips and those thoughts were replaced with desire. You shook your ass slightly, hoping for more, and you could hear a slight chuckle from him.

John’s nose traced along the curve of your ass, teasing every inch of skin but where you wanted him. Then his nose barely touched you and his hot breath was on you. You could feel how drenched you were and how it dripped down your thighs.

“Stop being such a sadistic fuck and touch me, John.” You half growled, half whined.

His tongue darted out and swirled around your clit. You let out a moan as his lips wrapped around your clit and he began alternating between sucking and flicking it back and forth with his tongue. You tried to push closer to his mouth but his left hand came up and pinned your hips against the cabinets.

All words left your head and all you could manage was moaning over and over at every movement. John’s right hand caressed your ass before drifting over and inserting a finger into your hole, pumping in and out in sync with his mouth. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer.

John must have sensed it too because he pumped another finger into you and curled it right against your g-spot. “You gonna cum on my tongue, princess?”

With these words, he flicked his tongue once more and the coil released, you were cumming harder than you ever had before. His strong hands were holding you up against his face. The juices were running down your legs and John was lapping them up, running his tongue over your pussy as you shook.

He placed a gentle kiss against your lips and stood back up. John pulled you up from where you were leaned over and let you rest against his chest. Your chest was heaving, trying to catch your breath.

“That...was amazing.” You mumbled, still on cloud nine.

John slowly turned you around to come face to face. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Y/N.” Your heart was pounding as he leaned down and kissed you. You wondered if he was as nervous or excited as you were.

His tongue twisted against yours, the taste of yourself filling your mouth. You raised up on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck. His long brown hair was irresistible so you ran your fingers through it happily. A soft sigh filled your mouth, his hands rubbing against your sides and back, pulling you closer to him.

In a rush, you detached your lips and kissed along his jaw. He released a grunt as you landed at the sensitive spot below his ear. You smiled when you felt his dick twitch against your stomach, and sucked the soft skin into your mouth, nibbling and suckling at it.

“You’ve got too much clothes on.” You murmured in between love bites.

John shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and you yanked his tie loose. His dark brown eyes connected with yours for a moment and you grinned up at him. The happiness sinking in that this was actually happening. In a moment of content, he pecked a kiss on your nose and your heart jumped.

Then as if passion overtook you again, you fumbled to unbutton his shirt as quickly as possible. John yanked your tank top up over your head and began helping you get his shirt off. You could see the scars that speckled his skin and you saddened at the thought of what had caused these.

John lifted your chin so that your eyes met. “Don’t worry about me, love.” He kissed you deeply, this kiss filled with a passion that told you that this was more than just sex to him. The kiss took your breath away.

With ease, he lifted you up and set you on the counter, your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands roamed, worshiping your body, while your tongues fought for dominance. His dick was hard against your thigh. You moved your hand down to rub against the front of his pants, and his breath was heavy with euphoria.

That sound set you into motion, and you unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down his muscular thighs. His cock was straining against his boxer briefs. You removed his underwear and his dick flopped against his stomach. At the sight, your jaw dropped slightly, John was larger than you’d ever been with before.

“It’ll be alright, princess. I won’t hurt you.” John’s words calmed you and you pumped his shaft a few times, spreading the pre-cum around the tip with your thumb. His head fell against your shoulder and his back muscles tensed and released.

You nipped at his earlobe and whispered, “I want you in me now.”

You could feel him smirk to himself and he took his member in his hand and ran it through your folds a few times, teasing your clit with the head. Then he pushed into your entrance, both of you moaning with pleasure.

“God, princess, you feel like heaven.” The words thick with bliss.

There was no movement for a moment as he let you adjust to the size. You could feel his dick throbbing in you and your walls clench around him, begging for more.

You raised your hips against him and he pulled his length out of you then drove back in swiftly. Your body was lit with tingles. John started to pick up a pace, dragging his cock against your walls and sending shock waves through your body. Skin was slick with sweat and your bodies were mixing together. Where you stopped, he started.

Just as you were starting to feel that overwhelming sensation, he moved his arm under your leg and lifted it higher. It was the perfect position for him to hit your g-spot with every pump.

“Oh god, John, yes,” Your breath was heavy in his ear and he was living for every whimper you let out.

John’s other hand snaked between your bodies and his thumb found your clit. He was tapping it rhythmically and the combination was enough to send you over the edge. Quickly, your walls clenched around him as you hit your peak. The feeling of you tight around John and the cries tumbling from your mouth were enough to send a wave a pleasure through his body. With one last pump, he emptied into you. His cum was covering your walls in spurts.

Both of you stayed tangled together as he moved in and out of you lethargically. Your lips were brushing against one another while you tried to calm your breathing. You hated the idea of separating.

Finally, John pulled away from you slightly. His eyes were stuck on you, admiring every feature. He brought his hand up against your cheek, tenderly rubbing the skin. “I will cherish you until the day I die, Y/N.”

Your gaze fell and you pecked the palm of the hand on your face. “I hope that doesn’t come for a very long time. I’d like to keep you for as long as possible. My Baba Yaga.”

His face lit up and he tugged you into his embrace. His arms were tight around you and you had never felt more safe in your life. “I’m yours forever, princess.”

#John Wick #john wick x reader #John Wick: Chapter three #John Wick: Chapter Two #lemon #Keanu Reeves #baba yaga #Assassin #reader insert

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inyournightmares97 · 5 years

Text

Her Dowry (Part 2)

The handsome Mr. Park Jinyoung is proud, haughty and says exactly what he thinks. He doesn’t need anyone meddling in his life… much less a spoiled and rich young heiress who is shamelessly in love with her own fortune.

Can two such selfish people ever find comfort in each other?

Warnings: Regency!AU, pretty much a Jane Austen fanfic with GOT7 lol. Angst, Fluff, some attempts at me being posh and using big words that might seem cringey. Please don’t ask when I’ll update because I’m trying my best!

Word Count: 4.2k

Read Part 1 here!

“There is no need to be too careful with those,” you called out to the footman in a breezy tone. “Feel free to drop them if they are too heavy.”

The carriage transporting Mr. Park Jinyoung’s belongings arrived late in the morning. You had been taking a walk with your dog after breakfast in the front gardens, when you noticed the full carriage rumbling up the stone pathway to the large manor. The footmen were currently struggling to take the suitcases up to the guest rooms. You stood to the side among the rose bushes and watched in displeasure. The little Pomerian on a leash beside you noticed your distress, and pawed at your skirts desperately.

“Come here, Snowball,” you cooed as you picked up the little fluffy white dog. She panted at you happily and licked your arm. “Do you see those packages there? They belong to Mr. Park Jinyoung. Now, we don’t like Mr. Park. So whenever you see him, I would like for you to growl at him and make it clear that he’s unwelcome here. Understood? What are you going to do?”

Snowball yipped at you happily.

“No, growl!” you ordered firmly. The little Pomerian merely blinked up at you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth in a cheerful pant. You sighed and patted her on the head. “I really should have gotten a bloodhound like Jackson but what could I have done? You were too adorable.”

Snowball licked you again and you laughed, putting her back on the grass. She danced about your feet happily. You spent a few minutes letting her attempt to jump in order to take a treat from your hand and clapped when she reached the required height. Snowball was munching on her biscuit, when the clip-clop of a horse riding up the stone path became audible.

Mr. Park Jinyoung had arrived on horseback. You watched silently as he rode up to the front of the manor, a classically handsome figure in a simple yet fashionable jacket. He dismounted gracefully and his dark eyes turned to you. You straightened while he approached you with a gentle smile and a polite bow.

“Miss Lim,” Mr. Park greeted you warmly. “I see you are out on a stroll. Isn’t the weather lovely this morning?”

“It was. I’m afraid a rather ugly dark cloud is passing by at the moment,” you commented drily. Mr. Park’s eyes flickered up towards the clear sky. His lips curled into a handsome smirk when he understood that you were not referring to the weather.

“Perhaps a dark cloud now and then is inevitable in life, Miss Lim.”

“I suppose it is. The important thing is that the cloud learns its place and does not ruin everyone’s fun by raining down upon them,” you quipped.

You were interrupted by a sudden tug at the leash in your hand. Snowball had darted forward and was now sniffing eagerly at Mr. Park’s shoes. You tried to pull her back in horror but Mr. Park Jinyoung only laughed. It was a very charming laugh, you had to admit, but a detestable one all the same.

“And who is this?” he chuckled, reaching down to pick up Snowball. She licked at his hands happily and you sighed. Stupid dog. Mr. Park laughed again as Snowball yipped at him. The corners of his eyes crinkled up fondly when he held her up to look at her. How could such a horrible man have such a mesmerizing laugh?

“Her name is Snowball,” you replied.

Mr. Park smiled as he set her down. “I see. A noble name, indeed.”

“Hardly. I named her such because she's round and white, as is evident,” you replied, tugging on Snowball’s leash to pull her back. She let out a small whine and pawed at your skirts sensing that she had upset you. “And I’m sorry to say that I don’t appreciate other people touching her. She’s a very delicate dog. I would prefer that you did not attempt to play with her.”

Mr. Park raised an eyebrow. “I am not ignorant of the fact that you clearly dislike me for some reason, Miss Lim. But asking me not to touch your dog is rather childish, is it not?”

You bristled. How dare this man! Not only did he insult your musical talent before your entire family but he also had the audacity to call you childish? How could a man who was relying on your hospitality and proclaimed himself a gentleman speak to you in such a rude manner? You glared at him and pressed your lips together tightly.

“Then perhaps I am a very childish woman, Mr. Park. You will have to excuse me. I am afraid you interrupted my morning walk. I am sure the housekeeper would be more than pleased to show you to your rooms.”

Mr. Park sighed. “My apologies. I will take my leave, then.”

You turned away from him and pulled Snowball along behind you, waiting until Mr. Park had disappeared inside the manor to pick her up and cuddle her to your chest. “There will be no more licking Mr. Park, do you hear me?” you scolded the little dog in a hushed voice. “If you lick him once more, you will not get your daily treats.”

Snowball whined and nuzzled her nose into your hand in apology.

“Dear, will you be going down to the assembly rooms this evening?” your Father asked you during lunch. You had spent most of the meal glaring at Mr. Park Jinyoung while he ate, and listening to Colonel Jackson rant about some of the antics the officers in his regiment indulged in. You were too busy brooding over your absolute hatred for the man who sat across from you to notice that your Father had spoken to you.

“Sorry, Father. I could not hear you over Jackson’s babbling,” you snapped.

Your Father chuckled. “I was only wondering if you intended to go down to the assembly rooms for the assembly this evening, my dear. It should be a lovely opportunity for Mr. Park to become acquainted with the society here at Portsmouth. The three of you had better go and have a dance or play some cards to entertain yourselves. Surely, it cannot be very enjoyable to spend your evenings here with me.”

You smiled at your father. “I like spending evenings here with you very much, Papa.”

Father chuckled. “Yes, but a young woman like you had much rather go and interact with the society in town, or you shall become an old maid before you know it. And it is our responsibility to introduce Mr. Park to the society here.”

Jackson smiled and nodded. “Of course! We certainly cannot miss the assembly. I will introduce you to some of the officers, Mr. Park, they’re all extremely fine fellows and they play an excellent hand at cards. The society here is almost equivalent to that in London. We lack nothing. And I’m certain you may find a beautiful woman or two to tempt you into a dance!”

Mr. Park nodded with a smile. “It sounds very pleasant. I should be delighted.”

“I will call for the carriage to take us there this evening!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in irritation. You didn’t want to go to the assembly rooms. This was all because of Mr. Park. You gave him one final glare to which he responded with a simple, smug smile.

The assembly rooms were where the cream of society gathered on scheduled evenings to gossip, gamble, dance and flirt. Colonel Jackson’s regiment was currently in town so there were a significant number of officers crowding the card tables this evening. Beyond the card rooms was the dining room where tea and supper was served, and beyond that was the ballroom for dancing. Everyone was dressed very fashionably but you were evidently the best-dressed woman in the room. You smiled to yourself as you smoothed down your expensive silk dress with your gloves.

Jackson was instantly distracted by his fellow officers at the cards tables, and he persuaded a very reluctant Mr. Park to join them for a game. You merely greeted the officers politely and then moved onwards to the supper room.

“Oh! Miss Lim!”

You turned with delight at the familiar voice. The woman who hurried towards you was one of your best friends; Miss Kim was dressed very prettily in a light pink dress and she wrapped her arm around yours eagerly as soon as she saw you. You smiled back at her.

“Oh! What a relief that you are here, Miss Kim! I thought I was going to have to spend the evening alone and miserable.”

She giggled. “Of course I am here! My brother is in town for some business and I simply had to come and visit my dearest friend. I was going to call on you tomorrow if you did not come to the assembly rooms tonight. Oh! But we must sit down and talk. How could you not even write to me about your brother’s wedding? It was so shocking to have to see it in the papers!”

You followed her eagerly to a pair of vacant seats. “I would have written to you if I’d known myself,” you replied bitterly. “I was completely unaware that Jaebum was even courting anyone. He merely wrote to say he was engaged and then two days later, he and his bride had arrived from London with her family in tow. Oh! It’s so unpleasant and painful! Miss Park smiles far too much and her brother is the rudest man I have ever met!”

Miss Kim’s eyes shone. “Ah! That Mr. Park! I have heard that he is very handsome.”

You pouted at her. “If you flirt with him I shall never forgive you.”

“I would never! You know that I have eyes for no man other than your brother, Colonel Jackson. I do sincerely hope that if he should decide to marry someday, you would not allow me to find out through the papers. I really may just die of heartbreak!” she cried dramatically, before the two of you burst into giggles.

Miss Kim had been harboring a fancy for your brother for years now but he never showed her any affection beyond what he would show any other woman. She took the rejection surprisingly well, so you doubted whether her affections were very serious. “Oh! But there is a surprise for you here tonight!”

You blinked. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“Mr. Choi Youngjae is here,” she told you with a teasing smile. “That kind, gentle soul whose heart you constantly trample upon with your leather slippers. I would not be surprised if he came here tonight in the hopes of meeting you. Perhaps he will attempt to propose again!”

Your smile fell. “I should hope he does not. It was difficult enough to persuade him not to do so last season. An official proposal should only serve to embarrass us both.”

Miss Kim looked at you sympathetically. She loved you, but it was difficult for her to understand your behavior.

“Do you really have no intention of accepting him? He is such a good and kind man. Everyone in society loves him and he seems to care for you greatly. He is among the few other eligible men in town. And you are always so determined not to go to London for the season and meet new men. Where will you find a husband if you insist on locking yourself up away inside your home like this? A man is not going to come knocking at your front doorstep.”

You bit your lip. “Then I shall not get married.”

“But why?” she insisted. “Come to London with Mother and I next month. I insist. There are so many wonderful men and I shall have my brother introduce you to them all.”

“Oh? And if there are so many wonderful men then why do you still pine after Colonel Jackson?” you teased.

Miss Kim flushed. “Oh! True love is another matter entirely, my dear. Perhaps I should have been successful in my love if his sister had been a little kinder to me and done a better job recommending me to him… but we are not all so lucky,” she sighed as you laughed. She was constantly bemoaning that you did not do more to draw your brother’s attention to her. “How can you laugh at my despair, you terrible friend?”

You smiled. “Because I do not believe that you are truly despairing, Miss Kim.”

“Well, then!” she stood up, playfully offended. “I shall take my leave now. It is my intention tonight to extract a dance from Colonel Jackson without your help and I will be grateful if you should refrain from interfering. I would rather not end up an old maid.”

“He is at the card tables. You will have to tie him to a pair of horses to drag him away from there. Good luck, Miss Kim!”

Miss Kim giggled and hurried away to the cards room, hoping to find a seat at the same table as Colonel Jackson. You smiled at your silly friend. She had already lost a good amount of money to your brother at the card tables in the hopes of capturing his attention, but Jackson only laughed at her and took her money and never asked her to dance.

You were watching Miss Kim disappear into the next room when you heard a pair of elderly ladies talking at a table nearby. They were sipping their tea and looking at you with distaste. As is common with elderly women who are hard of hearing, they spoke so loudly that it was impossible for you to not overhear their conversation.

“Look; she has come alone again. How terribly inappropriate for her to attend such social events without a female chaperone. Does her father think it is appropriate to send her here with only her brothers? A young woman who has only been out in society a few years?”

The other woman scoffed. “For shame. That girl will find herself in a scandal soon enough. Nothing good comes of letting a young woman with a fortune of a dowry run about in such a loose and careless manner. Who would marry her? She has never had any decent gentlewoman to teach her how to behave. ”

You took a deep breath and clutched your handkerchief. Your eyes flickered sharply over to the elderly women, who fell silent the moment they realized that you were glaring at them. Disgusting creatures. They were so old and withered and wrinkled that they had nothing to do but comment on other women. It was not the first time they had said such things about you, nor the first time that people had commented on your lack of a female chaperone for these events. Your mother had passed away while giving birth to you and you had no aunts, no close female relatives to take you under their wing. The only woman available to accompany you to social events had been your governess; and she had left once you were too old to require one.

You merely glared at the women and turned back to your cup of tea. They could only dream of owning the amount of money that you possessed as your dowry. You knew better than to be affected by their envious words.

Mr. Park Jinyoung entered the supper room just as you were finishing your tea. He seemed slightly lost and uncomfortable. You smiled to yourself at the sight of him looking around blankly until he finally spotted you. Your smile fell when he made a beeline for you and took the empty seat beside yours.

“Miss Lim,” he greeted you politely.

You raised an eyebrow as you sipped your tea coolly. “Is it not extremely inappropriate for you to sit beside an unmarried woman such as myself at a social gathering? I believe propriety demands that we be accompanied by a chaperone.”

Mr. Park raised an eyebrow. The bored tone of your voice indicated that you did not truly care about the absence of a chaperone, but were merely attempting to find some fault in him.

How could a woman as beautiful as yourself could be hiding so much hatred inside? It seemed impossible, but your words only became more poisonous with each conversation you shared. He sighed.

“I am afraid it would be much more improper for me to approach anyone else at this gathering, since I have not been introduced to them. You and Colonel Jackson are my only acquaintances here. I am certain that I shall cause less offence by sitting with my sister’s new family than by approaching someone who does not know me at all.”

You sighed. Unfortunately, Mr. Park was not wrong. “I suppose so.”

Mr. Park smiled. “And is the purpose of a chaperone not merely to ensure that a young man and woman do not cross the boundaries of ordinary acquaintance? I am certain there is no danger of that here.”

You gave him a sharp look. “Certainly not. Although I wonder why you do not choose to stay by my brother’s side; he is surely the more pleasant company.”

Mr. Park sighed again, a hint of discomfort appearing on his handsome features once more. “Colonel Jackson’s company is excellent but I have no desire to lose more money at the card tables. Gambling has never caused me much enjoyment. I prefer not to push my luck, what with me having so little of it in the first place.”

“One would not look at your face and deem you a man of meagre luck, Mr. Park.”

Mr. Park raised an eyebrow and his dark eyes twinkled. You were irritated at how handsome he was and how aware he seemed to be of his own god-given charms. There was no use denying that Mr. Park Jinyoung was extremely attractive. However, once one overcame the deceptive barriers of his perfect face and handsome countenance, it was not difficult to identify Park Jinyoung’s many flaws.

“Is that a compliment, Miss Lim? I am flattered.”

“Not as much of a compliment as you might imagine, Mr. Park. I tend to place more importance in aspects of a person that cannot be covered by luck; such as manners, good-breeding and most importantly, benevolence.”

Mr. Park laughed. “Benevolence! Surely?”

“You do not believe me?” you demanded. “Or do you think my own character to be so lacking in benevolence that it is absurd for me to expect it from others?”

“Indeed; I have no idea how benevolent you are.”

“Let me assure you that I am extremely benevolent!” you insisted firmly. “A necessary quality in a woman who possesses as large a dowry and such excellent prospects as I! A woman with such a large fortune and natural beauty must do everything in her power to share her gifts with those less fortunate in this world.”

“I see you are very inclined to charity, then.”

“Indeed. We live in a world where beauty and a large dowry are the most powerful things any woman can possess.”

Mr. Park Jinyoung's smile suddenly changed; the curve of his plump lips was more forced than it had been earlier. He nodded silently. There was a brief and unpleasant silence which was interrupted by the arrival of another gentleman at the tea table. The only person in the entire city of Portsmouth before whom even Mr. Park was preferable.

Mr. Choi Youngjae.

“Miss Lim!” Mr. Choi greeted you politely and kindly, with a bow. His manners were impeccable and he was always well-spoken and kind, but his sudden appearance made your stomach turn. “It is so wonderful to see you here this evening. Please; allow me to convey my apologies at being unable to attend your brother’s wedding. I was detained in London.”

You smiled politely at Mr. Choi. “Of course Mr. Choi; I am certain that my brother understands completely. There is no need for your apology.”

Mr. Choi smiled hopefully. “Yes. Thank you. I was wondering, Miss Lim, whether-”

“Mr. Choi, have you yet had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Park Jinyoung? He is the younger brother of Miss Park; or should I say Mrs. Lim now, the woman whom my brother has had the fortune of marrying. He is staying in Portsmouth for some time on business. Mr. Park, this is Mr. Choi Youngjae. A good friend of mine and a businessman who often comes to Portsmouth to do his business,” you explained hurriedly.

The two men shook hands politely and exchanged perfunctory greetings. Mr. Choi’s eyes were fixed on you and you knew that he was hoping to speak to you alone. You could not allow that to happen. You quickly rose from your seat and gave the two gentlemen a polite smile.

“Well; since you are now acquainted, I hope that you will find some topic of conversation suitable to both of you. I am on the lookout for my good friend Miss Kim, so I will excuse myself,” you curtsied politely and hurried out of the dining room.

The two men blinked after you in surprise.

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Park Jinyoung could not help but feel a little pity for Mr. Choi.

The young man had evidently approached in the hopes of obtaining your attention, but you had hurried off and left him to converse with a near stranger. It only took a few minutes of conversation with Mr. Choi for Jinyoung to determine that the man met all of your expectations in a person. Mr. Choi had manners, good breeding and plenty of benevolence. He heard of Mr. Park’s hopes to avail of certain business opportunities in the shipping industry and immediately offered his assistance.

“I would be very glad to see you at my offices soon, Mr. Park!” Mr. Choi said welcomingly with a large smile. “We would have a much easier time discussing business there than in this noisy environment at the assembly rooms. I am based out of London for the majority of the year, unfortunately, but I do travel to Portsmouth often. How long do you intend to stay here?”

Mr. Park bit his lip. “I do not know; I am currently residing at my sister’s home on the Lims’ estate. If business goes well then I may need to look for some more permanent residence so that I do not impose upon their hospitality. If not, then I shall return to London to stay with my mother.”

Mr. Choi nodded. “Indeed; I look forward to furthering your acquaintance in either city.”

“May I ask if you are closely acquainted with the Lims?” Mr. Park asked curiously. Although he did not want to interfere in your personal business, he felt extremely curious about your evident desire to avoid such an amiable and harmless young man. It was one thing to detest Jinyoung, but what problem could you possibly have with Choi Youngjae?

Mr. Choi blushed at the sudden question but there was something disappointed in his expression. “Ah; I have never had the pleasure of meeting Lord Lim himself, but I am acquainted with Mr. Lim Jaebum in passing and have also had the pleasure of losing to Colonel Jackson at cards. As for Miss Lim, well, I uh, I happened to meet her while she was in London a few years ago and we have continued our acquaintance since then. She’s a very charming and beautiful young woman.”

Mr. Park nodded. It was clear to him that Mr. Choi Youngjae was interested in you. He cleared his throat and smiled. “Well, am I to believe that some sort of congratulations will be in order in the near future?” he wondered.

“Oh! No; that is, I don’t think Miss Lim has any such inclinations,” Youngjae admitted. His cheeks flushed red fiercely. “She has told me quite firmly that she has absolutely no intention of marrying and leaving Portsmouth to live far away. I… I had rather hoped that she would compromise but the truth is that my estates and business are primarily located in London and there is nothing much that can be done about that. I do travel down to Portsmouth a few days in a year but that is…”

Jinyoung blinked. “I suppose it’s not sufficient for our spoiled young Miss Lim.”

Mr. Choi’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

“Surely, Mr. Choi, you cannot be so blind to the fact that the woman you are pursuing is indeed rather spoiled?” Jinyoung demanded. “She speaks to people just as she pleases and has no qualms boasting of the size of her dowry in public!”

Mr. Choi Youngjae smiled. “I see you do not understand Miss Lim very well yet.”

“Don’t I?”

“Indeed you don’t,” Mr Choi replied. “It is human nature for us to be proud of what we have, Mr. Park, especially when deep down we know that there are many other things we lack. Miss Lim has been deprived of a great many things that most young ladies have. I suppose we may let her have her dowry, at least.”

Jinyoung frowned.

What could a rich and beautiful heiress with a loving family possibly lack?

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nega-aria · 5 years

Note

May I have Daddy!Gravesbeaks with the 🔥 - have a bonfire prompt please? Thank you! ~ MadamKezzie

Hells yeah you can! Daddy Gravesbeaks gives me life ❤

“Mallows”

Rating: SFW

Characters: Falcon Graves, Mark Beaks, Boyd Beaks

Ship: Falcon/Mark

The massive backyard was a world all its own; something enchanted.

In fact, there wasn’t a single corner of that seemingly endless yard that

wasn’t bathed in autumn magic. Boyd stared in wonder at the leaves falling all

around him. He liked this fall thing, he had decided. It never ceased to amaze

how the world could shift so beautifully, and with every season that passed

Boyd found something new to be mesmerized by, but autumn was something extra

special. It was sunny but still cool with enough of a breeze in the air to

scatter the loose leaves into a vibrant promenade just for him. One in

particular caught his eye. Large and fiery red, like it was endowed with bits

of sunset.

It was perfect.

In an instant the chase was on. Faster than any kid should be

capable of. Boyd could see further and run faster, and his query didn’t stand a

chance. His scarf trailed behind him as he pursued. It wasn’t necessary, nor

was the coat. He couldn’t feel cold, but he liked to feel like everyone else,

and everyone else wore coats in the fall. His sensors told him there was wind

on his face and dry leaves beneath his feet, but he couldn’t really feel them. Dad said he was going

to fix that soon. Boyd was glad. He wanted to feel. Truly feel like everyone

around him did, not just produce a preprogramed reaction to stimuli.

A final defiant gust of wind kept that flawless foliage just out

of reach, forcing Boyd to use the jets in his feet to keep it from getting

away. Some things, Mark wasn’t allowed to change. “Papa worries about me,” Boyd

reminded himself as he clutched his successfully captured leaf to his chest. He

wants me to stay safe, he thought. Even if that meant he could never be exactly

normal, Boyd wanted his father to feel better. He was the big, brave one, and

yet he always seemed the most scared: scared for Mark, for Boyd, and for his

own ability to express himself. Boyd didn’t want his father to be scared, so if

that meant being a real boy with rocket feet and laser eyes then that was okay.

So papa wouldn’t worry.

Boyd paused a moment, clutching his leaf and observing his parents

as they busied themselves with…what had they called it? Bonfire! Yes, bonfire.

Boyd’s first one, and Mark had promised a treat he had never even seen before.

A broad smile stretched across Boyd’s face as he raced towards his parents. Dad

always knew the best treats.

Even from a distance, he could hear Mark whining dramatically,

dropping his head to the ground and lying there beside the improvised fire pit like

he had given up on life. “Gravesy, this is too haaaard. Can’t I just have

mallows?”

“Fire first!” Falcon yelled from the nearby patch of trees where

he was currently collecting firewood.

Mark groaned harder as he lifted himself back into a sitting

position. “Slave driver,” he grumbled. Once again he attempted to start the

fire and once again he succeeded only in singing his own thumb. Mark swore

under his breath, sucking the abused digit and searching for a good excuse to

get distracted. He smiled widely at the one currently racing in his direction,

opening his arms just in time for his son to launch into them.

“Dad, dad! Look at the leaf I found!”

Mark’s eyes sparkled as he made a theatrical ooo sound in

response. “It’s perfect,” he gasped. “Let’s do the thing!”

Boyd bounced excitedly as Mark prepared for “the thing”, watching

over his father’s shoulder as he scanned every crevice of the leaf with his

phone. His smile grew wider when Mark faced his phone skyward, a soft jingle of

their experimental app chiming before a sparkling display of holographic leaves

swept through the air. They were perfect, and Boyd smiled brightly when he saw

the newest addition drift down in the presentation.

“I don’t hear a fire being made!” Falcon called, breaking the

trance.

Mark’s eyes rolled, landing on Boyd as they did so. “Hey,” he

whispered loudly, “help daddy out will ya?”

Big eyes blinked curiously at him. Boyd eyed the pit as if unsure

it would actually work, but aimed a foot at it anyway. A short blast from his

jets not only instantly ignited the tinder but pushed Mark back, yelping at the

resulting fireball.

“AH! I am so sorry!” Boyd said as he rushed to Mark’s side. “Are

you okay, Daddy?!”

Mark coughed slightly as he lifted himself back up. “It’s all

good, bud. Pretty sure I can spare some eyebrow,” he mumbled even as he thumbed

over both brows just to be sure they were actually still there.

Brittle leaves crunched nearby, and both parrots stared up at

Falcon. Mark’s surprised cry had obviously caught his attention as he was now

looming over them, bundle of wood under one arm and hand on his hip. “Did you

light that fire, Boyd?” he grumbled.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Mark aimed annoyed eyes at his son who was currently grinning ear

to ear and looking entirely too proud of himself for having ratted out his dad.

“Traitor,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be a dirty little cheat like your dad,” Falcon said,

pointing a finger down at his son.

“Yes, papa,” Boyd replied, arms innocently held behind his back. “Show

me how to build the fire?” he asked excitedly.

Falcon laughed softly. How could he resist that face? “Alright,

come here,” he said, sitting beside Mark on the blanket they had laid out and

depositing the pile of wood beside them.

Boyd instantly climbed into his lap, settling in as Falcon wrapped

an arm around him and moved them both slightly closer to the small fire.

“You have to start with the kindling, the small bits,” Falcon

said, tossing a twig into the fire for emphasis. “Which your dad was supposed to do,” he added with a

sideways glare at his husband.

“Yawn,” Mark said distantly, not bothering to look up from his

phone.

Falcon rolled his eyes but chose to ignore him. “Once you have a

good spark going you build it up.”

Boyd watched in curious wonderment as Falcon began to add some of

the smaller logs to the fire, standing them against one another and explaining

how it was important to let the fire breathe. It really was like a living

thing, Boyd thought to himself. Alive and vibrant, swaying in the wind as it

grew stronger with every piece of wood that was added. Falcon even let him help

feed it. Sure he did so in a very paranoid manner, holding Boyd’s hand the

entire time, but he was happy he got to help.

“Then you nurture it,” Falcon finished, holding Boyd snugly in

both arms as the small parrot smiled happily and cuddled closer. He cocked a

brow at the chin that was suddenly perched on his shoulder, side eyeing his

husband quizzically.

“And theeeen,” Mark prompted.

Falcon sighed heavily but was unable to keep the slight smirk off

his face. “And then we roast mallows,” he finished.

“Yeah!” Mark replied, rushing off excitedly.

Boyd aimed eager eyes at his father. “What are mallows?” he asked

in awe.

Falcon chuckled. “Marshmallows,”

he clarified. “It’s like tradition to roast them at fires.”

“Roast them?”

“Watch and learn progeny of mine,” Mark said as he returned with

the bag of marshmallows in tow. “First, ya gotta get yourself a quality

roasting stick type implement,” he said, obviously poking fun at Falcon’s very

serious instruction on fire making. “But don’t worry, daddy already did that

because papa left him alone and he was bored.” Boyd giggled as Mark loaded a

marshmallow onto his preselected branch. “Then ya roast it!” Mark exclaimed, shoving

his stick straight into the fire before pulling out his sufficiently flaming

treat.

He watched it burn just long enough for Falcon to wonder if he was

secretly a pyro before blowing it out with one loud puff. Falcon grimaced when

Mark shoved the entire heavily charred sweet into his mouth. “You do realize

you’re basically just eating carcinogen at this point right?”

“Mmm cancer tastes delicious,” Mark mumbled through his mouthful

of gooey treat.

“Do me a favor, son,” Falcon said to Boyd. “Don’t ever be as

uncouth as your dad.”

“No promises!” Boyd exclaimed, shoving his own stick into the fire

just as Mark had done.

His son was a quick study, and at times like this that seemed

entirely too frustrating to Falcon, but he smiled smugly when actually trying

to consume the blackened fluff made Boyd instantly reopen his mouth so he could

spit the rejected marshmallow into the fire with a telling “bleh”.

“That was terribly disgusting,” Boyd said.

“Boooo! You’re supposed to be on my side,” Mark whined.

They were too adorable, and Falcon couldn’t contain his laughter.

“Don’t worry, papa will show you how it’s done,” Falcon said, pushing a fresh

marshmallow onto his own stick before shifting the fire just enough to uncover

some of the coals.

Boyd watched mystified as Falcon showed him the proper technique

for obtaining golden brown marshmallow perfection, eyes sparkling as he soaked

in every ounce of sweet wisdom that Falcon had to impart. Mark had obviously

grown bored seconds into the demonstration, but he seemed content enough just

leaning against Falcon and documenting his son’s first campfire.

Expertly toasted marshmallows were definitely more agreeable, and

Boyd munched his happily as he watched the fiery coals dance before his eyes.

The same crimson hues were reflected in the sky above, the setting sun saturating

the horizon in rosy twilight as the day slowly slipped into darkness.

Fire was such a curious thing, Boyd thought. It wasn’t alive, but

it still needed to eat and breathe just like he did, and somehow that made him

feel better about his own real boy shortcomings. Boyd found himself in a sort

of trance as he watched the fire shine in the growing darkness. Small fingers

reached towards it, palm out and fingers spread in a search for any hint of

that heat that he knew was there. Nothing. Boyd knew it was there, but nothing

felt different, and he frowned sadly. Strong fingers gripped his outstretched

hand, pulling those searching digits back with a gentle firmness. Falcon held

his son’s hand tightly, smiling down at him. Boyd smiled back, gripping his

father’s large fingers with both hands. His sensors told him it was there, but

he couldn’t feel it. Or could he? He couldn’t feel it physically, but he could

feel it in a much more significant way, and that filled Boyd with a certain heat

that felt very real. He may not know what the warmth of fire truly felt like,

but he knew what the warmth of love was like, and that, he decided, was much

more important.

#ducktales #mark beaks #falcon graves #boyd beaks #gravesbeaks #daddy gravesbeaks #my stories #aria answers #requests #otp #fluff #Anonymous #boyd

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ajanefantasy · 5 years

Text

Book Love part 9 - Simm (Rise of Trouble Vol. 3)

Simm - RoT Vol. 3 picks up a couple of months after RoT Vol. 2 ends. Things are moving along. Sari’s gone back to her life in Issin Sound and all that entails and shouldn’t entail, and stealing her professor’s timetell because he left himself open. He deserved it and she probably should have kept it. And Jayd is suffering lectures from his family because apparently that is his life now. He misses his seamaid and, after a rather explicit letter from her, decides he’s waited long enough to return. Besides, he has a promise to keep. And another lecture to avoid. No really, the king is there, and he’s doing all he can to avoid him. Weigh anchor ye fools, weigh anchor. Aye, I know ‘tis the king, weigh anchor!

The world continues to expand as Sari and Jayd continue their trek towards happily ever after. There are nosy guardians, and insistent spirits, and annoying siblings...who may not be so annoying, and fathers doing unexpected things. There is dance practice to be had, and annoying dance partners who are still vastly annoying. Why are you bothering me, Kittie? Plus celebrations to be had, lectures to suffer, bargains to be made, and lots of pirating to be done, actual pirating.

And now onward! I introduce:

[Image ID: Image of a three mast ship sailing away from a river inlet and snow capped mountains, with the words Simm Rise of Trouble Volume 3 written across it]

Princess Sari has much upon her mind. Classes about pirates. Dancing. Her father sneaking from the palace. Her twin brother stumbling about. Why is Kittie bothering her? Troublemaking spirits. Pretending she and a certain pirate are not married. Jayd Lightning wants nothing more than to be with Sari. His son wants him to be with Sari. He wished his uncle would leave him be. Wait! Is that a bit of treasure in need of liberating?

Story contains strong language and explicit sex. 107,880 words

Amazon / Smashwords / Kobo / Apple / BN

Preview of Simm Rise of Trouble Vol. 3 under the cut..

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting the room in a sudden burst of brilliance. Jayd froze, his body and mind at war. He wanted to fling open the window and join the sky in slinging power about—Yeryl and Zasara he wanted to do that—but he knew Magic was going to come running into the room, frightened, wanting to make certain neither he nor Sari were going to leave him.

As the second strike of lightning bloomed bright, Magic came running into the room as predicted and leapt onto the bed. Sari, who was already sitting up and wearing Jayd’s shirt, prepared as she was after the first flash of lightning, caught Magic and pulled him in close, offering him the comfort he sought.

“All is well, my little love; your papa and I are right here.”

“The storm…”

“’Tis outside and offers us no harm.” She quietly began to hum, wishing to soothe Magic’s anxiety.

“Magic,” Jayd ran a hand over his son’s flyaway hair, “I wish to share something with you. Uncertain I have been how to show you for never would I wish to offer you fright. ‘Tis part of my magik as a Lightning and a part of me, an important part.”

Another strike of lightning and Magic buried himself further against Sari.

“Know you that never would I bring you harm, yes?”

“Mh.” Magic nodded but stayed huddled against Sari.

“Magic, look at me. I would show you something.” When he could see his son’s eyes, he held out his hand and little bits of lightning danced upon his palm. “Lightning, ‘tis a gift of mine.” The bits of lightning arced from his palm to his thumb then from finger to finger before returning to his palm and dancing a jig on the two legs it grew. It was a trick that his own father showed him when he was a lad.

Magic ducked away hiding against Sari, but then slowly turned back hearing and feeling Sari clapping and laughing. He stared at the streaks of light racing around his father’s hand, soon mesmerized and unaware of the strikes of lightning outside.

“Ye have lightning, Papa.”

“I do. ‘Tis a part of me, always has it been. On a night like this, I would open the window and send it out into the sky, to see who could make the better strikes. But never would I frighten you, son.”

“Ye talk like ye do in Berja.”

Jayd laughed. He then took on the parlance of his pirateself. “I am. Methinks I forgot to change after Sari’s papa left.”

“But why would ye be different?”

“Not everyone need know that I be a pirate.”

“Like Uncle Arno?”

“He knows—his mother, my great grandmother was a pirate, just like my grandpapa was, and Aunt Sprite is—but I need be the Titledman for the rest of Berja. That Sari’s papa be a king as well, ‘twas proper for me to be the Titledman with him as I will need be Titledman for much of Artezan since we belong to Sari and she be their princess. But when we are upon the sea, always will we be pirates.”

Magic nodded, a little smile on his face, but just as quickly buried himself back against Sari when a loud clap of thunder rolled overhead. “Stay.”

“We go nowhere, my little love.”

Jayd brushed a hand over his son’s hair, feeling helpless. “Magic, all is well.”

“Mayhap, rogue, you might show Magic just how pretty lightning can be.”

“Aye.”

Leaving the bed, but after putting on a pair of breeches and a warming spell—it was winter after all—Jayd walked over to the wide window and pulled the two sides open, the curtains fluttering dramatically. He breathed deep of the lightning charged air, letting it wash over him. It prickled his skin and dared him to step outside, to dance with the danger. Had it been just he, he might have done so.

He heard his son whimper and looked over his shoulder: Sari had moved to the edge of the bed, Magic still tight in her arms, a blanket wrapped about the two of them to ward off the cold of the night. “Watch your papa, Magic. Right here I am and I go naewhere.”

Thrusting his hand out the window, he built up his magik, let the lightning spark and flurry about his hand. When it felt ready, he flung it towards the sky in an impressive eruption of light. Flaring his fingers wide, he made it bloom, jagged veins spreading out across the sky.

He grinned over his shoulder when Sari clapped and cheered. Magic was staring with the beginnings of awe. Relief filled him, shoving away the fear that he terrorized his child.

“Shall I do it again?” More relief when Magic nodded. “That a lad.”

Jayd once more gathered the magik about his hand and sent it dancing towards the sky. This time he heard two sets of clapping and, with growing confidence, set about working a third strike. By the fifth strike he was starting to get a little fancy with how he was throwing the lightning, buoyed by his son’s cheers.

He was about to send out his seventh strike, his heart rate and breath steady, his fingers not yet tingling, when a slender man—one could almost call him wispy—appeared on the low stone wall surrounding the terrace in a flash of light. Jayd held the lightning; waiting, prepared to send it at the stranger did he dare make a threatening move.

The man hopped down from the wall, an arrogant smirk twisting his lips. He had white blond hair and shadowy skin with patches of pale, which appeared to move as he did. The man wore naught but a white cloth about his hips and Jayd knew not how it stayed on as the wind grabbed at it ruthlessly, let alone how he withstood the cold.

“Are you the fool who dared challenge me?”

“I…I offered no challenge.”

“Sending lightning into the sky while I did so, I take that as a challenge. Did no one teach you any manners, mortal?”

“I wished to show my son that he need not fear storms.”

“Of course he needs fear storms. Storms are things to be feared!” He threw his arms out and lightning flared overhead followed by a loud boom of thunder, chortled at the child’s cry of fear.

“Who are you?” Jayd kept his eyes on the stranger, trusting Sari to keep Magic safe. He wanted to let loose the lightning he held, angered that this man dared frighten Magic. But the bastard called him mortal. He wished not to fight a possible guardian, never would he survive.

‹‹’Tis Father Air’s fool of a son, Arelev. Very few immortals hold any like for him. He is unpredictable, oft volatile, and always a fool. Be most wary of him, my son.››

Arelev snorted. “Mortals, they forget so easily. I am…”

“Leaving.” Nekor grabbed Arelev by the scruff of the neck, made the other man look at him. “’Tis my nephew you threaten and ‘tis not a deed I look kindly upon.”

“He challenged me!”

“No, you eternal fool! Descended he is from The Lightning. The storm drew him and he did what only comes instinctually to his Line, to his Blood. Do you think to threaten he or his family again, my actions will not be so benevolent.” With that, Nekor turned and…

He had thought to throw Arelev into the sky, but changed his mind. With a wave of his hand, he opened a doorway. Beyond stood a giant of a man at a workbench pounding something with a hammer, sparks flying about him, soft grunting noises slipping from his lips with each strike. The man looked over, a frown upon his face, the long scar on his cheek pulled tight. Father Fire used to wear a beard, one that reached beyond his collarbones, which hid the scar, but too often it caught fire as he worked.

“Nekor.”

“Father Fire, I do apologize for the intrusion, but I thought you might care for a bit of company.” He shoved Arelev through the portal. “Mayhap your forge is in need of a boost?”

Father Fire grunted as he brought his hammer down once more, all without looking at what he struck. He stepped back from his bench, large hammer still in hand, and tossed what he was working on into the furnace. He scratched his chin, missing his beard—mayhap a short one would cause no issue—and stared at the heap that was Arelev. Another grunt.

“My forge could indeed use a boost, though I am uncertain of the company. What manner of trouble is he in this time?”

“He thought to threaten his mortal sibling line for daring to compete against him, though ‘twas quite unknown there was competition.”

“Which line?”

“The Lightning’s. The one in question is Önia’s mortal son.”

“The fool does hold an unbecoming ego and an overblown sense of pride. I assume I need not ask whose lightning was best?”

“My nephew has quite a knack, but ‘twas for his son he offered such creativity; the lad holds a fear of storms and he wished to ease his fright.”

Father Fire looked through the portal at the three mortals, the child held tight against the woman, the man standing ready to defend his family. The man was definitely from the House of Lightning with the silver hair at his temples and those lightning-flecked blue eyes. He found himself smiling when the little boy peeked from the woman’s hold with large, wide eyes, but he sensed no fear of him. It had been a time since he was around children. He liked children. But for some reasons the others thought he jested about such a thing. Just because he oft disliked their children meant not he disliked all children.

“My apologies for this fool’s behavior; he thinks too highly of himself.”

Arelev sat up. “He challenged me!”

“Hush, you fool,” Father Fire hissed. Small streams of smoke curled from his mouth. “How could he offer challenge when he knew not that you even existed? No, answer not. Be of some use, go aid my forge.” Turning from the other immortal, offering his back to the fool as he walked to the portal doorway, he gave his attention to Magic. “What is your name, little one?”

“I be Magic Stryke. Mamé was Fierce Stryke.”

“I should have guessed. Never would a Stryke feel fear of me.” Of their Father of Fathers, but he kept that to himself wishing to protect the child from the others. “Ah, I know what you need!” Father Fire held his hand out and a finely forged sword and expertly tooled scabbard appeared in his hand. “A gift. Always will Stryka serve you well, never harming you unless you harm her.”

“’Tis beautiful,” Magic whispered, certain he had never seen shinier treasure. He wanted to go touch it, to mayhap give it a hug. “She sings, too.”

“Aye, she does, but only to those deserving of her.” He placed the sword and scabbard just inside the room and leaned it against the wall, gave the handle a soft pat. Father Fire turned to Jayd. “You will keep Stryka safe until your lad is of an age, teach him how to care for her properly, or I will know the why of it.”

“Aye, ‘twill be guarded most fiercely.”

“Before I go, might I see your lightning, lad? Your Mother of Mothers is quite spectacular with her ability; always does she enjoy offering a demonstration.”

Jayd nodded, what else could he do? He forced himself to walk back to the window having moved to stand before Sari and Magic when the second immortal arrived. His feet felt like slabs of unliftable stone, his mind bombarded by Nekor’s presence—though far was it from the time Nekor spoke directly within his mind. Still was he Jayd. Still was he in control of himself.

With a deep breath, he called the magik back to his hand, felt the spark and crackle prancing about his fingers. How was he to do this? What sort of demonstration was Father Fire looking for? Such pressure he felt. What would happen did his magik fizzle?

“Ye can do it, Papa!” Magic yelled.

He felt himself relax hearing his son cheer for him. He could do this. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he offered a broad pirate’s grin. “For ye, my fierce lad, always.”

Book Love: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#© A. Jane #A. Jane #Book Love #Simm: Rise of Trouble Vol. 3 #Simm #Rise of Trouble #book promotion #my writing #story snippet #fantasy romance #pirates #magic #spirits #guardians #Sari and Jayd #misadventures

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