#but see i love the chance to burn myself out and earn praise its so fun to throw myself on this sword look-

[brywrites]

Gifted

Spencer Reid x Reader. Summary: All his life Spencer Reid has been told he’s gifted. And all his life he’s wondered what the point was of those gifts that felt like curses. Until her.

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Though he holds so many memories in his mind, Spencer Reid isn’t quite sure who the first person to call him “gifted” was. It was probably his mother, he thinks. Certainly not his father, who thought he was strange. Perhaps a teacher, or maybe even his Aunt Ethel. All he’s certain of is that he’s lost track of the number of times people have praised the so-called gifts he possesses. His eidetic memory, his autodidactism, his absurdly high IQ. His mind, they say, is a gift. But it’s felt more like a curse for most of his life.

Those same things that helped him skip grades and earn the praise of adults brought him years of bullying taunts and miserable adolescent trauma. They isolated him from his peers. His companions were library books and stories and mathematic proofs – nothing with a beating heart. They plagued his nightmares, for his mother had been brilliant too and what had that done for her? And those gifts came with a tremendous burden of pressure, they demanded use in a powerful way. Reid was always terrified he’d fail to live up to that impossible potential, proving himself unworthy of such great and terrible gifts.

By the time he’s thirty-six, he wonders why he was ever given such gifts in the first place. Clearly he’s squandered them, spent them on chasing monsters he thought might be human. They turned out to be hydras – for each one they catch, two more take its place. He’s let his mind waste away on drugs, on grief. In shacks and in prison and in grudges he just can’t let go of. He’s saved lives, he knows, but his team do that same thing without the gifts he’s been cursed with. What’s the point of him? Of any of the talents or tricks he possesses?

And it’s that question on his mind as he walks into a Virginia library to interview a witness to the latest in a string of serial arsons. Her name tag says Y/N. She’s clearly nervous, a little shaken, but she manages a smile when a child runs up to interrupt and ask her how to find The Magic Tree House books. And when she turns back to look at Reid, that smile still lingers – her eyes so bright it catches him off guard. She takes him back to the area of the library that was burned to talk about the crime scene, and she off-handedly asks if he has a favorite.

And when he says, “Oh I could never choose just one favorite. I love books too much for that,” that smile returns, unexpectedly bright.

“A man after my own heart,” she says. “Tell me a few then.” 

So he rattles off a handful, hoping at least one of them will keep that light in her eyes. They do. “Bradbury is one of my favorites, too. I just love Dandelion Wine. Sorry, I probably should focus on the fire. I try to distract myself when I feel stressed, and well, remembering what happened that night doesn’t exactly help with my anxiety.”

“It’s okay,” he tells her. “I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Or excited. Really, I think I just talk a lot.” Another smile, one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Over the course of the investigation, the BAU has to ask her to come to the station twice. By chance, Reid finds himself interviewing her both times, and both times he finds himself rambling a little more than he means to – because he finds himself inexplicably a little nervous and a little excited in her presence. It’s that smile, the one that lingers long in his mind after she leaves each time.

There’s something about her, about the light she seems to carry, that draws him in. That compels him to say yes when he shows up at the library to inform her they’ve caught the unsub and she asks, “Could I buy you a cup of coffee to show my appreciation? If that’s not too much, of course.”

“I think that would be perfect,” he says. And as they sit at the café across the street with lattes in oversized mugs, he’s never been so grateful for his vast knowledge of literature. Each title is a start into a new conversation with her, and they swap stories about stories – the ones they have lived and the ones they have loved. When she disappointedly announces her break is over, she adds, “But maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“Yes,” he says. “Please.”

“How should I get in touch with you if you’re not showing up at the library to interrogate me, Dr. Reid?” she teases.

He hastily withdraws his cell phone from his pocket and offers it to her. She begins to type in her number. “You, um, you can call me Spencer,” he tells her.

She grins at him and something in his chest shifts at the sight. “I’ll definitely call you soon, Spencer.” He’s never liked the sound of his own name more. And he thanks that eidetic memory of his for allowing him to replay it again and again in his mind until he can see her next.

.

They get coffee again the first chance he gets. And then again. When she asks how he has time to read so much and he tells her about how his mind works – about his memory and speed-reading and quantified intelligence, all the things that have been called gifts – she thinks for a moment before saying, “That must be lonely.”

The relief he feels at her understanding is immense. “It is sometimes,” he admits. “But it’s felt less so lately.” They go to a park together. Then out to dinner. By the time he realizes he’s falling, he’s forgotten what it feels like to be on solid ground. Fortunately, he isn’t the only one at the mercy of gravity. She feels it too. And when she laughs at his joke as he walks her home from dinner, he just can’t help himself. He leans in and cups her cheek to pull her to him, pressing his lips to her still-smiling lips. The taste of wine still on her tongue. And though he doesn’t drink anymore, the sensation of her is enough to make him feel utterly intoxicated.

Slowly, his life fills up with her. His sabbatical arrives with the perfect timing to allow him evenings and weekends with her. He picks her up after work. She meets him for breakfast. He takes her to the planetarium. She falls asleep on his couch. He tells her it won’t always be this way and she assures him that’s okay. But it gives him the chance to build the foundation their relationship needs. It’s in that time that he begins to catalogue her smiles in his memory. The dazzling ones she sends his way when she spots him at a coffee shop. The soft, shaky ones she wears after a long kiss. The coy ones that twist the corner of her mouth when she’s teasing him. The nervous one that slowly grows when she meets his team for the first time – not as a witness, but as his girlfriend. A title she declares like a badge of honor. He holds each smile in his mind, picture perfect thanks to that eidetic memory. When a case has been particularly tough or he’s away for longer than he’d like, he flips through them in his mind, trying to remember the cause of each one, trying to hold on to that light until he can hold her in his arms again.

.

He surprises her with flowers on her birthday. “You remembered?” she gasps, her eyes wide. “And these – these are my favorite. How did you know?”

“I could never forget,” he laughs, but she stares down at the bouquet and clutches them to her chest.

“I don’t make a big deal about my birthday, so people don’t usually remember,” she says quietly. “And nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before. Thank you, Spencer.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

He grins from ear to ear. Forget the sound of his name, those three words are the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you, too.” It’s a first for both of them. And one week later comes another first – witnessing her panic attacks for the first time. She’s shaking too hard to tell him what she needs, so he tries to do what would help him. He sits down next to her on his living room rug and wraps her in his arms. He rests his head on her shoulder and murmurs the words to her favorite poem. She seems to breathe a little easier and so he recites another one she loves, and another until her breathing finally steadies and she unclenches her fists to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face in his sweater.

Suddenly it doesn’t feel like such a curse to remember everything he reads when it means he can give her the words she loves when she needs them most.

The first time they sleep together is only the second time he’s been intimate with someone and he feels more awkward than he wishes he was. But he commits himself to studying, to remembering what she likes and what she doesn’t, and the next time he proves to be the quickest of learners when he succeeds at making her come within a matter of minutes. He discovers a new smile of hers, one of dreamy bliss and kiss-swollen lips. He loves it. He loves her, adores every single part of her she’s shared with him and every piece yet to be found. And to his continued surprise and delight, she loves him just as much.

He tries every day to be worthy of that love. He makes time for her. He goes to meet her friends and he shakes their hands even though he hates touching people, even though she insists, “You don’t have to. They won’t mind.” He does it because she’s the only person in the world whose touch he actually craves.

When she swoons over a dress Penelope has shown her on Instagram, he makes a note of it. She’s utterly enamored by it by her smile falls upon checking the price tag. It’s far out of her budget. So the next week when he’s out on a case in Atlantic City, he swings by one of the few casinos that doesn’t have his picture framed on the wall of their security office. He wins more than the cost of the dress in an hour and leaves before anyone can get suspicious. The dress arrives at his apartment the same day he gets home, and he invites her over to surprise her with it. When she opens the box, her eyes go wide.

“Spencer, this is… this can’t be. It’s… do you know how expensive this is?” Y/N asks.

Bashfully, he replies, “Now might be a good time to mention I’m banned from casinos in almost every state for my card counting abilities.” It’s well worth the little effort he expended to see the way her face lights up at the sight of it. And though he’s never been a gambling man, when he sees her wearing it for the first time he considers trying his luck a little more often.

At times he worries he’s doing too much, but how could it ever be when the way she loves him has been so much more than enough? For the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he’s enough. When she says, “I love you,” he believes it. When she says, “I’ll be back,” he trusts her. He’s given another person more of his heart than he ever has before, and for once he’s not afraid of it breaking. She doesn’t mind the strange hours he works or heaviness he sometimes carries with him. When he wakes up from a nightmare, she holds him close and keeps him grounded. He sends postcards from each city he visits and she makes his favorite food when he comes home and home is suddenly a place they share. She moves into his apartment and it feels like it was never complete without her there.

.

Not long after, there is a case in Boston. Their terrifyingly intelligent unsub taunts Reid as he leaves the interrogation room. “Judge me all you want, Dr. Reid. But I’ve used my mind to change the world. You’ve done nothing with yours.” The words haunt him on the flight home. He sits on the back of the plane lost in thought. What has he done? Sure he’s saved lives, but could he have done more? Could someone else have used those gifts he’s been burdened with in a way that was better? Why does he have any of these talents? Why has he acquired any of these skills?

His phone chimes. A text from her. Brought home a new book from the library I think you’ll love! Can’t wait to see you, dearest. And it hits him.

It’s her. All along it’s been her.

The answer echoes in his head as he races home to her. Everything in his life has led him to her, has let him be the person she needs. He can memorize all her favorite songs and poems to recite for her when her anxiety gets the best of her. He can remember every date that matters to her and everything she adores. He can read her favorite books overnight to talk about them with her in the morning. He can profile from her body language and her microexpressions when she’s having a bad day and needs him to be there for her, even when she’s too afraid to ask for what she needs. When she asks absurd questions out of the blue, he can give her actual answers with the useless encyclopedia of knowledge he’s obtained over the years. When she needs a distraction his rambling finally proves useful. It’s all for her.

She’s the reason his mind doesn’t feel like a curse anymore. How could he ever think of it with disdain when it’s the reason he can picture every smile she’s ever let him see? When he can catalogue every wonderful word from her lips, every inch of her skin, every action that drives her wild.

Reid can’t seem to open the door to their apartment fast enough. When he finally steps inside, she’s sitting on the couch. She turns away from the book in her lap to smile at him. “Welcome back,” she says. Then, tilting her head, “Is everything okay?”

An unshakeable grin spreads across his face and he knows he must look like a madman right now as he crosses the living to sit beside her. “Everything’s perfect. I just… I had this epiphany. All the things I hate about myself, you love. And all the things I can do let me love you better. It just feels like everything – everything has led me to you. Even the bad things, I mean, being in prison forced me to take sabbaticals and if I hadn’t we wouldn’t have had that time together early on and maybe we wouldn’t have worked and I don’t believe in fate,” he says, taking a breath. “But I can’t help but feel like for the first time, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. With you. Like that’s where I was meant to be all along. And I… I just thought you should know.”

His long-winded rambling is rewarded with one of his favorite smiles from her – one that makes her eyes soft and puts sunsets to shame. The kind she wears when she is incandescently happy. Her fingers lace through his and they are a perfect fit in his big hands. “There is nowhere else I’d rather be,” she says, leaning in to kiss him.

All his life, Spencer Reid has been told he is gifted. But this time, he thinks it might actually be true. He holds the greatest gift the universe has ever granted him in his arms and knows that no part of him is a curse if he is loved by her.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #fanfiction #gifted #brywrites #spencer reid fanfiction #reid x reader

[miioouu]

dare or extreme dare

So i saw this on @todobakus-doll blog, and um i couldn’t help myself! 

Warning: smut, characters are 18+...

    Some nights were spent alone, others are spent together. And well tonight is the latter. The whole dekusquad and bakusquad were having a game night. It wasn't rare for the two friend groups to have nights together, despite a certain blond attitude on the matter. But in reality, he wasn't doing it for himself, or his friends, he was doing it for his boyfriend. He knew how much it meant for Shoto that he gets along with his friends, even a little bit. It always makes him happy and proud, he wasn't one to show emotions but when it's the two of them, the way his cold hand runs through untamable curly hair, Bakugou could tell, feel the love. Well in all honesty, it's not just the two of them, when he feels soft lips pressing on his cheek, smaller body curling in his side, his eyes looking down at yours, his world felt complete. But that's beside the point, tonight he came to win. Spin the bottle, cards, whatever electric boy and alien girl prepared for tonight he will win.

      Both of the boys were a bit sad that you're not a part of the game, but they knew that you had university entrance exams you need to study for, so they didn't pressure you. Anyway, the night was going great, laughs and jokes filling the room, soft music playing, not too loud to disturb the other students but just enough so they can feel it flow through their body. Intense glances being exchanged between the lovers, yet keeping it low key, no one needs to find out about them. Finally, they all agreed on a game. While the usual party game was truth and dare, not for them. Dare and extreme dare. When you either show how weak you are, or how fearless you can be. When already inappropriate dares turn to the extreme. When worrying dares turn to dangerous ones. To make the game even more interesting, they went into pairs. Iida and Kaminari, Mina and Ochako, Kirishima and Deku, Sero and Tsuyu, and unfortunately, Todoroki and Bakugou. While it's not really that big of a deal to be paired together, they knew how dirty and naughty these games always turn out, and well, they just don't want to give it away.

     Few turns already passed, and to say that the group were being extra with their dares tonight is such an understatement. Deku almost fell to his death. Sero will for sure be sick for the next few days. Iida, is still shaking from doing something so immoral. And now it's the secret couple's turn. Eyes darting from one another, the other members of the group. It really must be their unlucky day, Denki was the one to give then the dare. Every second passing, the mischief in the electric boy's eyes intensifying, making the two other boys nervous, anxious for what's coming. Hearing soft steps getting closer, it's like you can see the light bulb illuminating above Kaminari's head "Ok so dare, kiss the next person who enters the room in their cheek. Extreme, make out for them for one whole minute!" Oohs and ahs filling the room, the two antisocial boys complaining and groaning until they saw you poking out of the door. Sweet smile on your face, rosy cheeks from interrupting them, but that's not what their attention was on. Short shorts exposing your legs, smooth and so appealing. Light, thin silky shirt, if they focus really good, they can make out the outline of your nipples making their mouth water, their mind go wild and with hesitation, both of them in unison "Extreme" and they ran to you.

     Quicker, the dual boy was the first to reach you. Hands caressing up and down your bare arms, cold sending shivers down your spine. You didn't even have time to question his behavior before he pressed his lips to yours. Slow at first but when your hands gripped on his shoulder, nails digging into his flesh trying to push him away, rationalize with him, the mood around you changed. His tongue swiping at your bottom lip and when you denied him access, he didn't hesitate to loop his arm around you. Cold, freezing fingers traveling up your naked thigh, pushing up your shorts and punching at the soft skin of your ass. Gasping from the shock, from embarrassment, you didn't realize that you granted him his wish. Tongue wasting no time, diving in your mouth and exploring the wet cavern. You could feel the others staring at you. Their eyes glued on your form, burning holes into your very soul. Unease taking over you, but with his hand still massaging your behind, his wet muscle down your throat, there's other feelings you're more worried about.

     "Alright, minute's done. My turn now!" The angry blond shoving Todoroki aside only to replace him. Confused and puzzled, what are they talking about? But just like before, your mouth opened to demand answers only to be shut with chapped lips colliding with yours. The taste of alcohol traveling from his mouth to yours, making your head dizzy. Or is it the lack of oxygen? His hands roaming over your form, tracing every curve, every part that you're so insecure about, in his eyes you're nothing less than perfection. Like your body has a mind of its own, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, fingers locking in his untamable hair. Pulling and yanking at them, earning you a hiss, a tightening of his grip around your waist. This action made you moan, low and erotic, being swallowed by his mouth. What happened to the usual shy and quite y/n? Letting herself go in front of everyone, almost letting the secret slip. With a man devouring her and her eyes, bright, begging another.

      The rest of the group didn't even know what to do. Stop you? That didn't seem like a good option, especially not when Bakugou seemed to drag you out of the room, your hand intertwined with Shoto's pulling him with you. It's just you three fooling around, nothing to look too deeply into. Or that's what they thought.... Out of sight and in your bedroom now, air felt heavy, it's hard to breathe. Embarrassment taking over you. Cheeks red, your teeth nibbling at your already swollen bottom lip, folded over yourself trying to hide from them. If you thought that this will make the boys slow down and explain what's happening, you're wrong. It only added to the fire boiling in their blood, eager to see you burn in lust with them. Step after step, they're getting closer. Slowly, like fierce animals hunting their teeny tiny prey, you. And it's not like you can back away, you're already pressed to the wall. Two hands catching your wrist, pulling you off the wall, just enough for another body to slip in. Your chest pressed against a much harder, muscular one, your eyes staring into heterochromatic ones. Your back leaning on an also tough torso, but that was the least of your worries. Your ass, there was something hard poking it. Bakugou's bulge straining his jeans and the protrusive fabric rubbing against your technically naked skin. Shoto's mouth found yours again. Gentle but not too much. Rough but just the right amount. His kiss making you melt from love and fire up in lust. And to make you blaze even more, Katsuki's teeth sinking and indenting your shoulders, neck, every part of your skin. You were in flame and they were the gasoline, your gasoline....

       Things were getting heated. Like the shy y/n existed no more, your hands went exploring. From traveling up Todoroki's shirt, palming every bulge on his abs, flicking his nipples whenever you had the chance, brushing up his collarbones and down his shoulder, his arms, feeling every flex, every tension of muscle; to threading your fingers in Bakugou's ashy blonds, single digit caressing up and down his neck, shoulder blades, gripping at his nape and pulling infinitely closer to you, your ass grinding on his aching dick. It's really getting hot in here, why don't you take off your clothes then? And that's exactly what you did. Separating yourself from the two young men, all taking off your shirt at once, not wanting to lose any more time. Bakugou was the first to get all naked, nothing unusual, he always liked to show off his body, especially to the two of you. Sitting on the edge of your bed, hid hands on your hips, pulling you close. Palms molding your chest, only to journey south, lower and lower finding the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. Then come your panties. Your frilly white ones with a bow on the front looking so adorable and innocent, but the shining dark spot on the front proving otherwise. And the string attaching the cotton to your pussy added to the obvious sin. And before anything could happen, Bakugou didn't forget, always so worry of you even in moments like this, pulling out the lube from your lowest drawer, smearing it on his dick and two covered digits pressing against your asshole, slipping in easily it wasn't the first time after all. And when all was alright, he sat you down, his cock replacing his fingers your back arching off his chest, your eyes rolling back your skull and your moans shakily leaving your mouth.

     In the midst of it all, you didn't realize, you didn't notice, Todoroki sitting across of you, hard shaft in hand, working it up and down, until he saw you relaxing in your "seat". Approaching you, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the little giggle erupting from you like melody to his ears, and yet there's something much better he'd like to listen to, a much better song. Pushing both you and the angry blond back, he climbed on top, earning a little scoff from the boy behind you but it was left ignored. His hand gripping your hip steady as he slowly pushed past your folds, every vein grazing your inner walls. And now that both boys were starting to move inside you, the orchestra began. A cacophony of your moans and whimpers, your begs and whines, all wreathed with the clapping skin, the low dangerous growls and the soft lovable praises. State of euphoria, you lost yourself in, and therefore it wasn't long before you reached your peak. With high voice, a mess of their names escaped your parted rosy lips, your head thrown back as your lidded eyes stared into intense red ones, your nails digging, like daggers of heavenly pleasure into broad shoulders, you came. And yet the concert didn't stop; still pounding in and out of you, but by their sloppy messy thrusts you knew they were ever so close. And prove, Shoto was the first to join you in short lived bliss, white painting your insides, so so deeply shooting inside of you, making you feel all fuzzy and warm inside. And when you were still relishing in that feeling, Bakugou added to it, cumming as your back hole clenched around him, milking him for every single drop of his seed. And if you thought you're done, just when both of them pulled out, seeing their hot love dripping and oozing out of you, it was enough to get them going all over again and again and again..... Really you should thank your friends for this awesome round of dare or extreme dare....

#todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #bakugo x reader #Bakugou x reader x todoroki #Todoroki x reader x bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #bnha smut #smut

[springalwayscomes]

Home

The place where you are 

That place is probably Mi Casa With you I'mma feel rich  That place is no other than Mi Casa Turn it on, your switch  Yeah It's comfortable even as you say nothing With you, anywhere will be my home You know I want that Home You know you got that Home Your love, your love, your love (I miss that) Your love. your love, your love (I want that) Your touch, your touch, your touch (I need that)

- HOME, BTS

Plot: It almost feels like a dream to Teahyung when he finally wakes up home, with your baby beside him and the delicious smell of the pancakes coming from the kitchen. He is home, he is home and can’t help wishing to have more, of you, of this family, of this life. He desperately wants your love, he’s been missing it for so long, he needs your touch, the place where you are is his home, he wants that home.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (so much it will make you loose your shit), established relationship

Wordcount: 10.8k

Content Warning: - oh lord help, here we go- dad!Tae, praise, dirty talk, fingering, blowjob, cum eating, creampie, swearing, finger blowjob, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cunt slapping, spit play, multiple orgasms, rough sex, thigh riding, mentions of masturbation, noona kink, cunnilingus, pining, missionary, hand job, pregnancy talk, impregnation kink, love making

The delicious smell of the pancakes are enough to wake Taehyung up, his stomach growling already even before he opens his eyes. It’s late, almost ten, and the fact he gets to stay in bed at this time makes his heart flutter in his chest as he remembers today it’s one of his free days and gets to spend it with you and your baby, finally. After weeks of not being around - the promotion of the new album and tour and the actual tour always keeping you too far away from each other - he can finally allow himself to open his heavy lids and peek at your beautiful baby girl sleeping in the middle of your bed, a raw of pillows blocking her from eventually turn and fall. She’s so little she’s as long as his arm, looking as cute as ever with her doe eyes closed and and her puffy cheeks, lightly snoring as he smiles at her. His chest burns with love as he already feels himself grow impatient for her to wake up, wanting to spend as much time as he can with you both, but he knows that he needs to keep it quite. When he came home last night, you told him she only slept three hours yesterday, so she needs to rest as much as he should be resting now, given the fact he basically slept the same. It was the last day of him being away from you both, and the night before he couldn’t bring himself to sleep, secretively wishing to hold you in his arms and leave sweet kisses to the puffy cheeks of your daughter. He should really rest a little bit more, but he doesn’t want to waste his time like that. Not today that he’s home and you cooked pancakes as breakfast. Not when he could finally hug you as you wash the dishes like you used to do when your relationship begun. Damn, it seems a lifetime ago.

Taehyung couldn’t hide his smile even if he tried, so he simply gives in to it as he walks towards your kitchen. The sight of you in his big - big - hoodie is enough to make him feel even more overwhelmed, and the way you swing your hips as you hum to Singularity under the cloth is just and addition to his maddening heartbeat to raise.

«Fuck, I love you»

You nearly let the pan fall to the ground at the sudden confession, not really used to his voice being so close. Closing your eyes and putting another pancake in the dish you turn to the door, taking in the sight. It feels like heaven, to finally have his disheveled dark locks back here in the morning, your fingers are already tingling to touch them. His eyes are slightly glassy for the sleepiness and his lips look even more soft than usual, maybe it’s because you haven’t kissed them in weeks.

«Come here» it’s almost a plead and he can’t contain himself from almost running towards you, distance sucks and you both don’t need it now, not even the slightest. In fact, the way he’s squeezing you in his arms makes you think that if it was possible he would literally melt you with his body. Taehyung takes in your fragrance, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he leaves soft kisses on your skin, his heart beating as if it’s the last time he gets to be this close to you. It happens every time, and it’s the same for you.

You both love each other so much it is literally impossible to explain, even the I love you’s that you exchange seem to not do the job enough. You’d literally cut your arm if it’d make him happy, and he’d do the same thing. After all, you’re the only thing that keeps him going on every day, you and your daughter.

«I missed you so much, is this real?» you murmur against his pijama shirt. Your boyfriend smiles, trying to ward off just enough to lock your eyes with his but you quickly whine and squeeze him even tighter.

«Don’t»

He giggles, the sound makes you feel like your day has finally reached its topic.

«It’s real» he mumbles, lips pecking at your skin another time as his hands slide under the fabric of his hoodie, tracing your back and lowering on your asscheeks.

«This is definitely real» he scoffs, squeezing them. You whimper under his big hands, and if he thought he had been missing you so much he couldn’t breathe some times, now he definitely thinks he was dead before coming home, you’re bringing him back to life.

«Your dumb ass is real too» you mutter as his smile grows even bigger. Taehyung leaves a soft kiss on your hairline, his action definitely contrasts his next one as his fingers dangerously approach the belt of your panties.

«I really missed you a lot» he whispers. His other hand reaches your cheek and you finally bring your eyes into his, melting as you see how they’re looking at you.

«It was so fucking hard to not be around you. I even missed your complaints»

You roll your eyes.

«I didn’t miss your dirty laundry on the floor the slightest» useless to say, you’re definitely lying. Just last week you ended up crying one night because your house seemed too tidied up without needing to yell at him.

Taehyung pouts, his lower lip almost brushing against yours as his expression makes you feel the urge to brush your pads against the dot on his upper and lower lips. You lift your hand from his chest just to do so, lightly caressing the flesh as he licks his lips right after, eyes shifting from yours to your lips.

«Why are you so rude, I was being serious» he whispers again.

«I wasn’t» you whisper back, already tip-toeing to get to his lips.

«I missed you and your annoying habits, every single one of them»

By the time your sentence is spoken your lips are already on his, kissing like it’s the first time. Taehyung’s lips are intoxicating, they’re a drug and you’re just an addict trying to get as more as you can every time you get the chance to taste them. They make you feel high, almost dizzy as his tongue explores your mouth, his fingers moving again against your back and caressing the skin like he haven’t done for far too much time. The taste of you makes Taehyung always wish for more, and not only in a sexual way. It’s like he never has enough, and he doesn’t even know how to start to explain the way you make him feel. The fact you’re in his arms, wearing his hoodie, standing in your house, making breakfast as your daughter sleeps in your bedroom overwhelms him even more. And he realizes he was right all along, all the time he waited for you and all the time he had spent stealing glances at your way. This is what he wants, and he could never wish for something else. Not even in another world, universe, not even in another life. You’re his family. And his thought hits him even heavier as he parts to take a breath and already misses your lips on his, forehead resting over yours as the pads of his long fingers tickles at your back.

«I have-» he pecks your lips «one» another kiss.

«I have one-» this time it’s your turn to rest your lips on his and he chuckles against you making you do the same.

«One thing to-» and it happens another time. He groans as he slightly nibs your flesh with his teeth, earning a light whimper from you.

«Will you let me finish?» he laughs, resting his forehead again against yours, eyes so happy and light it makes your heart throb with joy.

«Do you really have to? I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe anymore» you whine. His tongue comes out to wet his lips at your words, your mouth is watering at this point.

«I really have to» he chuckles as his eyes scan all of your features, heart beating at a maddening pace as he takes in the sight.

«I have one thing to ask you» he murmurs.

«What?»

He shakes his head. «While we eat our pancakes, I’m starving»

He kisses you again before helping you finish to make your dishes and sitting on the barstool in front of the kitchen island, you sit beside him, desperately close like he would slip out of your grasp if you were just an inch or two more distant from him. You lean your head on his shoulder as you rip the pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth, Taehyung lets his hand travel up your hip and scoots you even closer as you let out a moan at the taste of your breakfast.

«I really do love you a lot, you know right?» he murmurs, gaze lost on your face.

«You and that little scamp are my life and my family and all I want to do is take care of you for the rest of my life, because I can’t find nothing else that matters as much as you two. Not even myself. I’d literally do anything for you.» his voice has turned lower, his baritone making you turn just to meet his eyes full of fondness.

He licks his lips as you smile at his words, nodding because you know. You know it, you can read it in his eyes right now, just as much as you read it every other day as you video call through that damn phone. Taehyung wouldn’t even have a chance to hide it, even a stranger would be able to guess his love for you and your daughter, he’d guess it with his eyes closed.

You bring your fork to his mouth, waiting for it to open as he looks desperately deeply into your eyes, his hands coming up to cup at your cheeks as you rest your forehead against each other’s another time, the piece of pancake still hanging between your faces.

«Please, marry me.»

It comes out as a whine, like he can’t really bear to hold it in anymore.

Your heart stops, you swear the only thing keeping you alive now is the glint in his eyes, the love with which he is watching you. Taehyung’s heart is beating as loud as when he saw your baby for the first time, as fast as when you made love to him for the first time. And there’s a threatening feeling in his guts that is begging to tear him apart as you don’t seem to answer. His eyebrows knit together as he studies your features for the the tenth time and takes a deep shaky breath.

Truth is, you forgot how to speak. It’s too much to handle, you didn’t expect it at all. Taehyung and you had talked about it a little bit, but it was months ago and you weren’t really expecting him or you to propose this soon. Now that he bursted it out like this it’s making you feel emotions you’re not even able to discern.

«Jagi» Taehyung calls, his deep voice flustered. Your pancake is still between your lips and he lets out a tremulous sigh as he chooses to free the fork from it and wraps his lips around it, eyes never leaving yours. That seems to be the breaking point for you, as you burst out and let your self push hungrily against his lips, the pancake still in his mouth.

He moans as he forces himself to gulp, you nip at his lower lip with so much passion he feels himself about to explode right there and then.

He doesn’t need to kneel in front of you to ask you, and you both know it. Your heart is already his, your mind is already his. All of you is his. There’s not a single part of your body that doesn’t belong to him, not even an inch of your skin.

He doesn’t even need a ring, you don’t even care. All you need is his damn presence in your life until the day you die and you’re pretty sure that even then you’re going to love him endlessly. He is all you need, Taehyung is everything you can manage to think about, he is your thoughts, he is your happiness. It’s like a part of you is able to be yourself only when you’re with him, it’s hard to even breathe when he’s away.

«Please, marry me» is all you manage to say, repeating his words as you loose yourself in the taste of him. Taehyung feels his chest burst at the sweet utterance, the kiss had already given him a hint of your answer but hearing it come from your lips it’s fucking moving things inside him and the happiness taking over him is almost platonic as he smiles against you.

«Say it again» he begs, lips never leaving yours as his hands start trailing on your thighs, fingers causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He’s begging, but he can’t help it.

«Please, marry me» you repeat as you fist his hair, only now remembering you’re still holding the fork and letting it carelessly fall on the counter.

«Marry me, please, please.»

«Fuck, you’re going to be my wife.» he groans against you, another wave of happiness rushing through his body as he says the words.

«You’re going to be my wife» he repeats. You desperately nod against his lips finding it too hard to speak. Taehyung smiles and tightens his grip around you even more, long fingers sliding under your - his - hoodie for the second time, caressing your skin with so much passion and love that you feel yourself burn under his touch. The combination of his lips, the words he just said and the pads of his fingers slightly brushing against your skin until they meet your nipples are enough to make you as wet as you’ve ever been.

«I have a ring-» his lips leave yours just to leave a trail of wet desperate kisses against the column of your neck, and you have to hold back a loud moan when he nibs at your skin, you don’t want to wake your daughter.

«Could you give it to me later?» you shudder as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

«Yes, yes- Fuck, you make me so fucking happy jagi, I love you so much I can’t even explain it»

He sucks just under your jaw, the spot he learned over the years you love desperately.

«I love you too. Oh-» you bite down your lip as his fingers tease your already hard nipples, swirling them around and massaging your breasts with those big hands of his.

«Fuck, Tae, you’re gonna make me wake-»

«Shh, than keep it down» he murmurs, his low tone sending shivers directly at your soaked cunt.

«You’re so beautiful, so beautiful jagi»

His hands trail down your stomach until they meet your hips, his lips still attacking your neck until you decide you’ve had enough of the lack of his taste, slightly tugging at the roots of his dark locks to get him to kiss you again. And man- does it always feel better than the previous time, it does every time.

«I’m gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re gonna come for me» he whispers as his fingers trail the path of your panties until they’re pushing them aside.

«Please» you whimper, eyes closing at the very moment his pads touch your folds, dangerously wet.

«Fuck, I missed your pretty little cunt» he groans, eyes shifting from your face to his fingers moving to your throbbing clit, he can feel it throb under his touch and it fucking makes him pulsate in his boxers.

«You don’t even know how many times I got off thinking about you, I wanted to call you» he’s breathing heavily as he watches his medium and index finger rub at your clit in an increasing pace that only makes you whine. The way you squirm at every movement and close your eyes is enough to make him think he could come without even doing anything.

«Why- why didn’t you call?» you let out breathless. Taehyung shakes his head.

«Fucking timezones» he hisses, adding just a little bit of pressure that has you clenching around nothing. He’s starting to feel uncomfortable sitting on the stool, so he stands up and opens your thighs for him even more, grabbing you by the back of your knees and pulling you closer to the edge of the sit.

«I don’t care about timezone, you know it» you try to hold back a moan as he starts sucking back at your neck, two of his fingers fill you up without giving you time to get used to the feeling, already arching into you and making you bite your lips. You missed his fingers so much that you feel overwhelmed now. All the nights you touched yourself you desperately pictured him over you, putting his skilled fingers to good use. Just the thought had made you come countless of times.

«But I care about you, I’m not going to call you at three in the morning just because I’m painfully hard. I can take care of it» he groans against your skin, earning a strangled moan from you at his words.

«Fuck, Taehyung faster»

His fingers shove even faster into you, lewd sounds of wetness filling the room and making your cheeks heat up as you hide your face on his shoulder.

«How can you fucking look like this? Damn, jagi, it makes me want to make you come endlessly» he hisses, his fingers are hitting all the perfect places, and the way his thumb now begins to rub back at your clit makes your hips jolt. It’s really too much to handle.

«My god, I missed your fingers» you whimper «I fucking missed you, so much»

Taehyung can’t hide his smile as he adornships you. He’s painfully hard, pushing at the cloth of his boxers and wondering how much longer they will resist until they’ll eventually tear apart.

«I swear I’m gonna give you the best blowjob you’ve ever received in your life after this» you whine, his cock twitches desperately at your words, and he groans as he bends his leg and blocks his toe on the lower part of the barstool. He removes his fingers from inside of you earning a whine at the loss, and his hands cup your hips as he tugs you even more towards him, letting you sit on his thigh.

«We have all day for it, now I just want to make you come endlessly. You’re so fucking hot it makes me ache» he groans, digging his fingers in your hips and slightly making you move on his leg, the pressure on your clit makes you feel dizzy and you let your head fall back another time as he bites his lips looking at your face.

«Use me, get off on me. Fucking god»

You place your hands behind his neck, feet now grounding on the floor as Taehyung makes sure to keep you steady with his hands on your hips. Damn, you’re going to be the fucking death of him.

«So fucking wet, you’re ruining my shorts.» he moans, clenched jaw as he watches the way your hips move. One of his hands comes up from your hips just to raise your hoodie and show him your breasts, Taehyung can’t help himself as he tilts his head and nibs at the nipples, leaving wet kisses all over your flesh and collar bones. Your breathing is uneven, the knot in your stomach building up more every second it passes by.

«I’d fuck you all day, you really don’t know what you do to me.» he licks at your neck as he makes his way towards your mouth.

«I’ll fuck you so good, I swear I’m going to take care of you every single day jagi. I’m going to give you everything I can and I’m going to work even harder for what I can’t give you. I love you so fucking much Y/N» his words take a total different way by the second part of his first sentence, but it doesn’t matter. His words are promises that he imprints into your skin like tattoos, the wetness of his saliva is the ink marking you as everywhere as he can get.

«Tae!» you moan in a whisper. Taehyung’s lips come to help you, kissing yours and swallowing your moans as you move even faster and harder on his tight.

«That’s it, come on me babe. Come on my fucking thigh, mess my shorts. Let me see that beautiful face of yours I’ve been thinking of as I jerked off when I was away»

«Damn, fu-» you can’t even proceed to finish your words, you’re already coming undone on his tight, the pleasure rushing through your body in thick waves and leaving your mind foggy and light at the same time, eyes shut close and chest heavily raising as Taehyung nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and kisses your skin. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you keep your eyes closed, your body still twitching over his as you try to regain your breath back, heart beating at an inhuman speed.

«Are you okay?» his words make you smile.

«I’m really not» you pant. His head immediately leaves his hideout as he tilts it, eyes carefully looking into yours as his body suddenly tenses.

«You can’t come home and expect not to kill me with a proposal and a mind blowing orgasm» you whine. The warning in his eyes drifts away and he feels the tenseness leave his body as he smiles at you and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

«Actually, I was planning on making you come at least another time before I fuck you»

«Is this what this is going to be like?» you ask, a beaming smile on your lips as you peck his lips. His hands caress your skin in sweet, tender motions even though the bulge almost ripping his shorts screams nothing but it now, pushing against the material so much it makes your mouth water.

«I guess so» his forehead touches yours as he locks his arms behind your waist, his breath fans across your face and makes you feel even more warm than you already are.

«You don’t mind it, do you?» he grins.

«You already know the answer» you whisper. Your stomach grumbles just when you’re about to kiss him and Taehyung chuckles as he brings one of his hands in front of your face.

«You hungry?» his words are filthy, tone deepening as you feel the sudden need to feel his fingers inside you once again. His eyes never leave yours as he closes his hand in a fist and only leaves his medium and index fingers out for you.

«You want to eat?» his pads tap at your lips, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers. He’s really so hard it makes him ache, but doesn’t want to do anything else than to please you again. When he was away, he definitely missed it. He missed taking care of you, in every form and way. He missed coming back home to find you freezing on the bed and having to wrap you in his warmth just because the covers weren’t enough. He missed making you feel loved, he missed it as much as he missed your pretty mouth sucking his cock, and the fact that you’re opening your lips for him, eyes never leaving his and tongue coming out to lick at all the length of his fingers makes him loose his shit.

Your taste on his fingers makes you grin, realizing these really are his fingers and not yours anymore. He’s standing here right in front of you and today could perfectly be one of the happiest days in your life.

Taehyung hisses under his breath when you lightly nib his pads just to swirl your tongue around them desperately fast afterwards. His cock never felt more wet with precum than now.

«You missed my tongue, uh?» your voice is breathy and low and it’s making it even harder for him to contain himself. His jaw clenches as you naively blink.

«You missed noona’s tongue? The way I gulp around your sensitive cock when I make you cum?»

Taehyung definitely looses it now. He’s usually the one talking dirty, but when your pretty little mouth speaks to him like this his brain stops working, there’s nothing he can do about it. Your swollen lips leave a wet kiss on his pads before wrapping themselves around his fingers, moving slowly and witnessing the way his cock twitches once more. Truth is, the way he looks at you has you clenching around nothing. His eyes are totally blown with lust, drowning in yours as he does his best to hold his shaky breaths, lips starting to slightly hang agape as a sign of almost giving in and his messy dark locks framing the amazing sight.

«Fuck, yes» he hisses, his fingers start to move in your mouth so fast, hitting the back of your throat.

«Yes?» you stop his movements, hand wrapping around his wrist.

«You missed me doing this?» you leave a soft kiss to his medium finger and at the beginning Taehyung thinks that’s it, not really expecting you to grab at his damn cock and start stroking it through his boxers so quickly he doesn’t even notice you already let his shorts slide down his legs. His reaction his priceless, tilting his head back and letting out a strangled moan that makes you clench so tight that’d definitely make him come if he was inside you.

«Did I make you this hard? Noona makes you this horny?»

He bites his lower lip, the muscle of the leg still under you clenches and makes your mouth water as you hook the fingers of your other hand under the cloth of his waistband.

«You’re boxers are fucking wet. What’s gotten into you today? Does the thought of me marrying you makes you this wet?»

«Fuck, yes. Yes, noona» he gulps as he steadies himself against the kitchen island, strands of hair covering his eyes as you caress his sweet spot on his groin and then tug slightly at the material squeezing his length. You and Taehyung always had a balanced relationship, even in sex. You like to please each other as much as you like to receive and it took you nothing to figure out he loved to call you noona. It makes his cock twitch every time, he can’t help it. He loves it in the same way you love him talking dirty to you as he fucks you, shamelessly and helplessly. The fact that you’re able to switch who’s in charge so effortlessly makes things even more spicy.

«Yes what? Talk to me»

Taehyung finds himself moaning when you finally stop teasing him and suddenly lower his boxers, his long, thick cock hits his lower stomach with a lewd sound and his leg under you leaves his place just to help him be as steady as he can, he’s already feeling drunk because of you.

«Noona, please» his breath his dangerously heavy as he places his hand behind your neck, locking his gaze in yours. The way you lick your lips make him pulsate against your belly and you feel him through the cloth of his big hoodie.

«You’re playing dirty»

«I’m playing dirty?» you smirk, kissing his lips and trailing your fingers on his chest until you meet his nipples through the shirt  he’s wearing. Your lips lower on his neck and nibs at the skin under his ear, Taehyung is trying his best to not be vocal but he’s so fucking hard that by now every single touch of yours makes him want to scream.

«Yes,» he hisses «I wanted to eat you out»

You smirk on his skin. «My turn»

Your hand meets his cock and he holds a breath as the hand that was caressing his skin stops. He’s literally as wet as you’ve ever seen him, with his head dripping precum and making you wince at him.

«You’re making a mess on my floor»

He hisses once again. «It’s our floor, and don’t talk housewife to me now»

Your hand wraps around him with just the slightest of pressure that has Taehyung already begging for you to make him come in his mind.

«You need to get used to it» you whisper in his ear, a smile threatening to break your bold behavior.

Your thumb meets the head of his cock, your boyfriend - fiancé - desperately hides his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose onto your skin so much it makes your heart flutter. His grip around your neck tightens even more as you caress his head, soft pad collecting his precum and then swirling over his slit. The way his heart his beating and the feelings you’re giving him make him want to die right here and then, and another set of precum makes his way though his slit, making you hold your breath as you take in the sight. Taehyung’s face is still buried in the crook of you neck, he can’t even think of standing straight and holding its weight, he already knows he’s going to fail miserably.

«Noona» his strangled groan is muffled against your skin as you decide to move and caress his frenulum, you know he’s going to loose it, it’s always been his sweet place, it makes him loose his mind. Taehyung’s hips stutter under your touch, his teeth digging in your skin and giving life to a new burning sensation in your body.

«What? What do you want, baby?» you whisper.

«Please, please make me come»

Taehyung doesn’t even consider of holding back his pleads, not even in a million years. And you don’t even consider a “no” as an answer.

He’s begging you, and just the fact of it alone makes you squeeze him tighter in your fist, earning a gasp from his wet lips. If it’s possible his face buries even deeper into your neck, hissing and cursing at the way your “fucking little hand feels around me”, not even able to circle all of his girth. The way he’s holding onto you like you’re his lifeline makes a wave of fondness towards the man rush through your body and brings you to cup his balls, caressing them softly just like he likes.

«Fuck, Y/N» he moans, his hair tickling your skin.

«Do you like it?» your fist speeds up even more as you kiss his shoulder, yours hits his one at every movement, Taehyung feels already like he’s about to burst. All the days, the weeks you spent far away, the only thing that made him come when he jerked off was the thought of you. Your hands, your mouth, your body, your face, your words, your moans; it really doesn’t matter which one it was, cause it was always you. And every time he would make a mess with his white seed he’d always feel empty inside right after, just because when his mind would go back to normality you weren’t going to be there. But now you are, and he feels like nothing else in this damn world could ruin this moment, your presence is enough to make him moan.

«Yes, yes, you’re so- ngh, you’re so good to me» it’s hard to speak in this state. Your fist speeds up even more to the point your wrist hurts, but all you can think about is the man squeezing you and begging you to touch him and make him come. You feel his abs clenching against your hand, the other one now raising up to brush against his sensitive nipples.

«Baby, please»

«What?» you whine, as if you were the one receiving pleasure. Taehyung bits his lips as you speed up even more.

«Fuck- I want to feel your mouth around me» he squirms as he begs. Your hand leaves his girth and he seems to breathe again after an endless apnea.

«On the couch» you whisper, nibbling his earlobe as he manages to finally open his eyes. Your fingers intertwine with his and guide him to the sofa until you both stand in front of it. You lightly push him to get him to sit but Taehyung shakes his head as he brings you with him on the cushions,  wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingers in your flesh.

«I still want to eat you out» he smirks as his fingers hook once again under your panties, this time sliding them down and making you gasp. You only understand what he wants when his hands trail up under your hoodie and squeeze your breasts.

«Tae» you whine, already getting up, before you change your position and sit on his face you make sure to remove his shirt, tracing at the golden skin with your fingers. You only tried this once and it made your head spin.

«Fuck, I love your pussy» he groans at the sight as you put yourself comfortable on him. He’s still painfully hard for you, the tip of his cock the same red color of his mouth, swollen and begging to be touched. Taehyung spreads you open with his thumbs, he doesn’t even wait a second to bury his face in you, tongue already swirling around your clit and making you bite your lips hard enough to bleed a little. He’s eating you so good that for a moment you think about waiting to do the same for him, but the thought goes away quickly when you moan out loud and in response his cock twitches under you, another set of precum coming out of his slit.

«Shit, Taehyung, you really missed me» you chuckle between the pleasure he’s giving you, finally lowering to take him in your mouth. Taehyung moans against your entrance, the vibrations immediately causing you to do the same around him, and he lets out another moan. It’s like a circle without an end, and the pleasure builds in both of your bodies so much that it’s making you go out of your minds. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gulp around him knowing this is exactly what it takes for him to loose his shit. And you’re right, Taehyung is already hissing under his breath, bringing his hands under your hips just to wrap them behind your back to make you get even closer to his face. He spits on you, as if you weren’t enough wet for him already, enthralled the way your wetness drips down from your count to your thighs.

«Fuck, do that again» he begs, his tongue  now making his way in your entrance as he sucks your arousal. You fist the air, desperately trying not to moan as you do the same around his girth. The knot in Taehyung’s stomach is about to burst, his balls are tight and he doesn’t remember how to breathe anymore, but he’s determined to make you come with him. So his lips never leave your count, not even when you gulp one more time and one of his hands leave your skin just to fist your hair, bringing you lower and himself even deeper in your throat. You gag around him, his breath fans you as he keeps fucking you with his tongue, alternating your entrance with your clit until you’re squirming for him. Your hands cup his balls one more time and the moment you do it his cock explodes in your mouth, hot white cum filling your mouth as you continue to move around him, his tongue never leaving your clit until you shake on him and come undone as he keeps coming. The pleasure is too much to handle with you both moving against each other to ride your orgasms, you try to swallow as much of his cum as you can, realizing only now he’s really coming like there’s no tomorrow, emptying himself in your mouth. Your legs shake and your second orgasm hits you even harder then your first one with the sight of his abs contracting under you.

«Fuck, fuck, fuck» you hiss as his cum finally seems to stop coming out, a little bit of it slips out of your lips but you don’t care, too much overwhelmed by the lips of your boyfriend still on you.

«Taehyung, god» you whine, the overstimulation makes your hips stutter against his face and he groans against you as he sucks desperately at your clit, his fingers coming again to fill you.

«This is-» you cut yourself off when he slaps at your pussy, making you clench around nothing for another time.

«Fuck, do you think you can come for me once more?» his voice is low and husky, and it adds a new wave of arousal to your throbbing count as he shoves his fingers into you, using his tongue to feverishly assault your clit. The pleasure is already building up in your stomach, so much that you feel already on the edge.

«I love when you cum because of me. Fuck, do I really get to spend the rest of my life with you?»

His words are the last drop that breaks the dam, you come again. Your hands fly behind you just to reach his hair, fisting his roots and tugging at them as he moans against you, the aftershocks of your third climax making you shake on his face as he places wet loving kisses on your thighs and tells you how much he loves you. Your body falls limp on the couch beside him, eyes shut as he sits up and shifts his position to be face to face with you.

Taehyung’s heart doesn’t even know how to think of a world without you, it’d be the death of him. And the realization affects him every time like it’s the first, wether you just came from a mind-blowing orgasm or your tidying up and scolding him for being so messy.

It’s crazy, how the world seems to begin and and end, make sense only when he locks eyes with you, it’s frightening.

«Noona» he scoots closer to you, wrapping you in his hold as you place your head on his chest and your body again on his. You ignore the way his cock is still half hard, poking at your hips.

«Mh?»

Taehyung smiles, kissing at your hair and feeling his heart about to burst, and you don’t even care if he’s coated with your juices from his nose to his chin.

«Can we try to make another baby?»

And again, your world seems to stop, you don’t even know how to feel anymore with this man.

«What?» your face lifts from his chest to peek at him.

«I want another baby» he whispers staring into your eyes. Your lungs stop working as you take in his words. Taehyung wants another baby. He wants another baby.

«Are you being serious?» his hands wrap even tighter around you, moving you on his body until your face is at the same height as his.

«Of course I am» he whispers, his hands now coming to your cheeks to cup them.

«You want another baby?» at this point the hamster in your brain has stopped working too. Taehyung giggles at your stuttered face and nods, eyes never leaving yours.

«Yes, I want another baby. How many times do we have to say it?» he shakes his head, his thumbs caress your skin as his giggles shade in a more thoughtful and brooding expression. His pads move to your lips, collecting the few drops of his cum that you weren’t able to swallow drying on your skin.

«Do you want it?» he asks, already regretting the choice he made when he opened his mouth.

«I don’t want to rush you, I- I can wait as much as you need, I just wanted you to know.» he explains.

It’s like in an hour your life totally changed even though nothing is really new. You and Taehyung already acted like a married couple, having a baby and being distant from each other makes it all even more harder and solemn. You’ve been together for four years now and your baby is already almost one. It’s like you were already official, but hearing him speak like this makes it all more real.

«And with your job?» this is the first question you mange to let out. Taehyung feels his heart sink downer in his chest as the first thing he reads in your expression his concern.

«We’re going to find a way to make it work, we’re doing it now. We’re good at this» he whispers, his fingers brush down your neck.

«I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it» you admit «I want another baby too, I’m just worried. It’s already hard when she starts crying in the middle of the night and my touch does nothing to calm her down. What’s going to happen with another one? How am I going to handle-»

«I’m sorry. You’re right.» Teahyung cuts you off. Pouted lips and slightly furrowed eyebrows, eyes glassy as he takes a deep breath.

«I just thought-»

«I want another baby, Tae.» you affirm, deeply looking in his eyes. Damn, you’d really love to have another baby.

«We just have to find a better way to face it, because I can’t handle two on my own»

His heart is swollen with the way you’re speaking to him, soft tone and bittersweet smile that he wishes to erase from your face with a kiss.

«You could come with me?» he whispers, eyes full of hope.

«The tour is ending in a month, and you’re not working anyway. We’ll come back home to work on the next album and it will take us a few months-» he stops talking to swallow harshly as he caresses your cheek with his thumb «you- you two can come with me, we can stay all together in the same room while we’re on tour, it’s always so bleak when I come back after a concert and you’re not there»

He’s rumbling as if he thought about it at around one hundred times and it makes you fall in love with him even deeper, the glint in his eyes as he speaks is screaming nothing but fondness.

«We could do the same thing when the baby will arrive. I mean- this is my job and it’s always going to be like this. If you want I can-»

«Tea, stop» you whisper. He suddenly shuts, realizing how much his throat feels dry as he stares at you.

«Do you still want to fuck me?»

Your words leave him totally stuttered, dumbfounded as he furrows his brows and licks his lips.

«What- Why?»

«Do you?» you don’t answer him, but neither did he, even though you already know it. His cock is still half hard, aroused by the way you came on his face for the third time and poking at your lower belly.

His eyes trail back and forth from yours to your lips, wondering what the hell is going on in your mind.

«Weren’t we talking about- Oh»

His mouth falls open and his eyes wide as he stares at you with his chest so swollen by the size of his heart right now that he feels that it could burst out in a moment. The smile growing on your lips leads him to think that maybe he understood what is going on, but he doesn’t want to built his hopes up.

«So?» he swallows hard.

«Yes» he breathes against your face, the answer came as low as a whisper, as if it a secret for just the two of you.

«Then do it bareback»

It takes him a few moments to realize what you had just told him is the same he wanted to hear, almost as if he doesn’t want to believe it because once he does, if you’re joking or he’s just imagining things, he’s going to fall miserably hard to the ground and standing back up will be more than difficult. But he knows you’re not kidding, you would never joke about something like this, and he knows he’s not seeing things when you caress his chest, he’d recognize the truthfulness of your body even in his deeper dreams.

«Are- are you sure?» he doesn’t even care about the way his tone his crackling in the middle of the sentence, dripping with hope and fondness for you. He doesn’t care, he knows he already lost all his boundaries with you, you know him like no one else does.

«I’ve never been more sure than anything else in my entire life» your words are some of the most beautiful he ever heard in his entire life, caressing his mind and his soul and shooting at them so hard that they almost make him feel dazed.

«Oh god, I love you so much» he bursts out in a whisper, the love he feels in this moment is so deep and it’s taking over him so much that all he wants and seems able to do is let it out, no matter in what form. Kisses, promises, sweet nothings, caresses, it doesn’t matter. All his actions are pure love, from the way he looks at you before he finally removes your hoodie to the way he’s already bringing you fully on top of him. His hands trail sweet touches until they reach your breasts, and a second later you’re already tilting your head back, hissing through your breath at the way his fingertips seem to know your body oh so perfectly. Taehyung smirks at the sight, you’re going to be his wife, and the mother of his second baby, he’s going to be a dad again. It doesn’t matter if it will take time to finally swollen your belly again, because he knows it will happen now.

His hand wraps around his girth as he strokes himself a few times, his boner is still growing but the sight of you with your back arched on top of him and your head tilted back for the way he’s touching your breasts, all exposed just for him to see and worship it’s certainly helping him.

«Fuck, I’m sorry it’s taking me a little bit» he whines under you. Taehyung’s cock sometimes does it, being this big it takes him slightly more than the usual male population to get fully hard.

«Don’t worry» you pant over him, his fingers are making you so wet that it’s taking you all of your effort to not rub against him.

«Tell me what you need»

«Fuck, Y/N talk to me»

Shifting your gaze from the ceiling to look at him, you find yourself spiraling in a whirl of panoramas that brings you to the edge of horniness, from the way his jaw is hanging low and his lips are parted, looking at you, to the way he nibs at the swollen flesh of the lower one, to again the way his golden skin shines under the light of the sun coming from the window and makes the sweat on his body even more visible. Taehyung is a work of art, and all you want to do is overpaint him with the transparent painting of your fingertips over him.

«I love you» your hands reaches his pectorals, brushing on his skin until you met his nipples. Taehyung’s hips instantly stutter against you when you lightly tug them between your fingers, he lets his eyes close and you lower more to press your chest against his, wanting to feel more close than ever and already missing his lips. He doesn’t seem to mind, since the very first moment you’re against him he brings his hands behind your neck and tightens the distance between you. He moans in the kiss, still feeling like he’s in a dream with you in his arms, next to be his wife and the mother of his child again. One of his hands trail down your body passing your waist and hips until it reaches between you two and hides through your folds, making you pant and break the kiss just to take a shaky breath. Taehyung opens his eyes to see your expression as you let your forehead rest against his, your lips open in a muted moan as he swirls his medium around your clit and makes your head spin. His cock twitches at the sight, and he feels harder with every second more.

«Please, god- Teahyung- nggh» your low moans are what he needs to fully stand up under you, poking at your hips and making you let out a sigh of relief.

«Please» you hiss.

He doesn’t want you to wait anymore.

The moment he leaves your clit to wrap his hand around his girth you whine at the loss but open your eyes to see him looking down at where his body is about to meet yours, wet pink tongue sliding across his swollen red lip as your forehead are still against each other.

The head of his cock enters your cunt and it’s like the first time. You’re not used to him anymore, not after all of this weeks away from him, your fingers or your vibrator are not even close to the feeling he gives life to in your chest. You’re already clenching around him and Taehyung lets out a strangled moan in response, his girth is so wide he needs to stop to see if you’re okay.

When you nod at him, he lets himself slowly make his way through your walls once again, always making sure to check at your expression.

«Fuck, how are you so tight?»

A little push of your hips is all he gets as an answer, sliding down on him more and making him clench his jaw at the feeling of you around him, squeezing him so fucking tight it’s making him loose his mind. The way his warm hard cock is filling you, pulsating inside you as he tries to control his actions his enough to decide you don’t want to wait anymore. You missed him too much, and all you want to do is make love to him and feel him inside of you. Taehyung finds it hard to soffocate a moan when you surprise him by fully sliding down on him, letting him fill you until your hilt, the stretch makes you whimper and you close your eyes to get used to the feeling as he peeks at you.

«Is this okay?» he whispers, cock buried inside of you and his hands coming at the back of your neck to make you raise your lids and get closer to him, as if him in you wasn’t already enough. In fact, it still isn’t. Taehyung would literally like to become an only person with you if it was possible. He’d melt you in his soul like you already are, and have you inside him for the rest of his life.

«God, I had forgotten how big you are» you scoff.

Taehyung smiles.

«You literally gave me the best blowjob of my life ten minute ago» he laughs, the sound sends shiver through your back.

«You know it’s different»

He licks his lips, his fingers place a strand of your hair behind your ears.

«Do you want me to move?» he whispers pecking the tip of your nose. The action makes your heart beat faster and you nod, Taehyung’s lips brush against yours as you both shift your position, your back now on the cushions as he makes himself comfortable over you. His hips raise from yours until the head of his cock is the only part of him left in you, and with his eyes resting on your face he deeps himself into you again, starting a slow and maddening pace that would send anyone out of his mind. Your heart beats so loud that you can hear it in your ears, he fills you everywhere. Your hear, your soul, your mouth, Taehyung is everywhere and your eyes fill with tears as the pleasure grows deeper and deeper, you realize how very much you missed him. The morning wasn’t bright without him, the dark sky of the night wasn’t shining anymore with its stars. It just didn’t feel right, nothing felt right without him.

«You’re gonna have my baby» his voice is labored as he keeps shoving into you, filling up every single part of your cunt. You feel the veins at the underside of his cock, you feel him throb inside of you and seeing him close his eyes and let out a muted moan only adds more pleasure to yours.

«Faster, please faster Tae» you hiss. Taehyung couldn’t tell you let you down even if he tried, he shove himself harder into you, speeding up his pace and making you whimper from underneath him. His dark locks are beginning to cover his eyes and there’s starting to create a layer of sweat on his forehead and neck, he missed you so much that being inside of you and feeling your walls squeezing him so tight seems surreal. He can’t help but look at you, his eyes scan all over your face as he hits a particular spot that makes you arch your back, his teeth digging holes in his lower lip as he realizes once again he gets to spend the rest of his life with you, he is the one who gets to love you, the one who gets to make you feel loved. Your muffled moans increase frequency with every time he thrusts into you.

«That’s it, right? Fuck, noona, you’re squeezing me so tight»

«You’re so good» you whimper, one of his hand reaches between you two to rub at your clit, the moan you can’t hold back in response sends him over the edge of control and he clasps his hands around your calves before bringing your legs up on his shoulders. The new position gets him to bury himself even more into you, bringing a deeper feeling of feverish horniness and pleasure in your body. Taehyung’s eyes lower from your face to where you connect, the way his cock almost leaves your cunt every time and shoves back into you makes him clench his jaw as thight as your walls around him.

«Fuck, my god- Tae»

«You like it when I fuck you like this? You like feeling my cock bareback inside of you?» he groans. His dirty words make your head spin, his pressure increases on your clit as he seems to bury himself even deeper.

«I’m going to cum inside of you and swell you with my baby, you’re going to look so fucking good»

«Please» you beg. Your pleads set a new fire in his chest as his other hand leaves your leg to rub at your nipple. When you arch your back Taehyung is sure he has never seen someone as hot as you in his entire life. His breath gets stuck in his throat and when your fist wraps around his wrist he looses it again. He watches you bring his fingers to your mouth, sucking at the pads and making him hiss under his breath. When you open your mouth again and he shoves them into you, it doesn’t take you too much to realize what he wants. You hollow your cheeks around him.

«Oh- Fuck, you’re so fucking- god, noona» and if it’s possible, he’s thrusting into you even faster at the sight, building up both of your pleasure and making you clench around him more often than before, every time he lets his head fall back, holding back a moan as his lips part. The view is too much, he looks so wrecked it makes you fell dizzy as you realize you make him feel the same way.

«I’m going to- Tae-» you don’t even know how to speak anymore, he’s fucking you so good you’re shuddering and the knot in your stomach is about to burst for the fourth time as he brings his gaze back into yours.

«Fuck, you’re taking me so good» he groans. You’re squeezing him so tight, Taehyung feels so fucking overwhelmed by the feeling that he lowers over you to kiss at your lips, making you whine and squirm under him even more as your legs stay on his shoulder and the position makes it all even deeper.

«Are you going to come for me? Squeeze my cock in your pretty cunt, noona?» he fans across your face. Those words do the trick, making you writhe as your walls clench so tight that for a moment he’s not able to move anymore. He watches as your body shakes, grabbing your chin in his hand and opening your mouth for him as your eyes try hard to stay open and lock with his, you know how much he loves to see you like this.

«Swallow for me» he hums, low and raspy uneven voice as he keeps fucking into you. He splits in your mouth as you keep clenching around him riding your high, the action makes your legs feel even more jelly than they already are as you close your mouth to do what he ordered. Your legs shake from the overstimulation and Taehyung murmurs a low fuck to his stamina as he understands he has to finish on his own, or at least not inside of you. The thought makes him wince, but he really doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He comes out of you, his hand already fisting his cock as he looks at how fucked out you look, his eyebrows slightly furrowed by the pleasure and locking eyes with you.

«Please» you whine as his hand hits your legs still on his shoulder.

«Come inside me» your words are all he needs to hear, he speeds up his movements and hisses under his breath, sweat covering his body and glimmering over his golden skin.

«Please, I don’t care, just come back in» you whine. Taehyung’s eyes lock with yours searching for a hint of refuse, but all he finds is the love you feel for him.

«We haven’t had sex for too long, I want you to come inside of me. Please»

And he’s lowering your legs from his shoulders and burying his cock in you once again, making you shudder with over sensitivity as he hits your g-spot again and again and again. Your walls are squeezing him even more than before and he hides his face in the crook of your neck to avoid to moan out loud, your hands come to his locks, massaging his scalp and slightly tugging at the dark roots as the uncomfortableness in your body starts to transform in pleasure once again. It’s so fucking strange how this man fucks into you endlessly and makes you want to come every time again just after a mind blowing orgasm, maybe it’s the way you love him that makes you feel like this, but you really can’t help it.

You tug at his hair one more time as you moan, Taehyung smiles on your skin when he fully realizes that you don’t feel uncomfortable with him inside of you anymore, feeling a little bit more light hearted. He nibs at the column of your neck as you clench around him and he brings his long fingers to your clit another time.

«Fuck, this is going to be your fifth orgasm and I’m not even tired of making you come» he hisses, rubbing harshly at your clit. His shoulder moves desperately on top of you as he keeps moving his fingers, the muscles twitch and make your mouth water. Taehyung is going to be the end of you. He feels himself closer and closer, his balls tightened and his breath hitching so much it makes it even harder to breathe as the pleasure overwhelms him. Your fingers tug more at his strands making him wince for the pain added to the pleasure rushing through his body, his head hovers over yours as you fit your eyes to his. When your gaze shifts from his dark irises to his red swollen lips and you choose to bit the lower one, Taehyung explodes. Hot splatters of cum feel your cunt, his cock twitches inside you and the feeling and the look in his face as he rides his high send you into yours once again.

«You’re gonna have our baby» he whispers as his thrusts become more soft,  wincing at the way you still clench around him. The words are so low that you’re not even sure of how you heard them, but they strike through your mind and center your heart, making you hold onto him in a breathtaking squeeze as he stops moving.

«I love you so much» you breathe, hiding your face in his neck, Taehyung smiles as he fills his heart burning with love. So much. He’s totally whipped for you, there’s no point to deny it, even a blind could see it.

«I love you too,» he pecks your shoulder as he tries to imagine of a world without your presence or your baby, suddenly feeling empty and brood «so, so much»

And you stay like this, in silent and holding onto each other, with his cock into you and your hands caressing at each other oh so softly, whispering sweet nothing into each other years. When you feel both of your juices slipping out of you Taehyung suddenly comes out, his hand reaching out to hold his cum into you.

«This is going to stay in here for a little» he murmurs, hand never leaving your entrance. Your cheeks burn for the action but he simply giggles and places a soft kiss on your nose.

«Keep it safe» he whispers, his other hand grasping at your wrist to bring it to your cunt. He rushes to your bedroom after he wears his boxers, making both sure that your baby isn’t awake and taking a new pair of panties for you.

«Here» he sits back on the couch and helps you put the cloth on, making sure that his cum doesn’t slip out of you during the process and setting your cheeks on fire.

«You make me so happy, noona. I want to make you as happy as you make me feel. Both you and that little scamp in our bedroom, and our new baby, if we’re going to have one. I promise you I’m going to be the best part of me for you» his voice soothes you and lulls you into a heavy sleep, tired from the best morning sex you’ve ever had.

«It sounds like a wedding vow» you scoff at him, but inside of you your heart is throbbing with fondness. Taehyung pouts at your giggle but he can’t hide his smile anymore when you reach out and pinch his hip.

«Did you just spoiled me your vow?» you scuff again. He shakes his head.

«Why are you like this? You could’ve just said you love me and made me smile but you choose to make fun of me. You’re rude, jagi» your hand wraps around his arm and you tug him on you with a beaming smile as he lets out a surprised yelp.

«You’re smiling anyway» you tip at his lips, caressing his dots. Taehyung pouts once again under your touch.

«Why am I still waiting for you to say something sweet?» he scoffs, shaking his head as he watches you smile big and bright.

«Because you’re an helpless romantic,» you whisper «you want me to tell you how much I love you? Fine.» your hands run though his hair, he gives in your touch, fully laying over your body with his head resting on your naked chest. Taking in a deep breath, you try to think of how to explain your love for him, but it really is hard. You find your self sighing as your mind keeps thinking, and when you take in another breath like it’s the only thing that keeps you from giving up, you find yourself smiling at him.

«I love you as much as I need air to live» you whisper. And it’s oh, so true.

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung one shot #taehyung #taehyung bts #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #sub!taehyung x dom!reader #dad!taehyung #dad!taehyung x reader #homebts #bts #bts x reader #bts x reader one shot #bts one shot #taehyung one shot #dad taehyung #dad kim taehyung #proposal one shot #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook one shot #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #taehyung x reader smut #taehyung x reader fluff #kim taehyung x reader smut #v x reader

[pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc]

hii can i get a james march smut please your writing is amazing💗💗💗

thank you so much! ♥️

bear with me, i haven’t written smut in a while.

pairing: james march x reader

warnings: SMUT, jealousy, choking, spanking, degradation, praise, overstimulation, lil fluff at the end

word count: 1831 (wow i snapped)

———————————————————————

James March.

The name rang in my ears like an omen.

Would he approve of what I was up to? Most certainly not. Was i going to continue anyway? Definitely.

Lately, my husband seemed to be more interested in brutally torturing his victims than in me. While not a universal struggle, the thought still plagued my mind. So naturally, I decided to have a drink.

I took a seat on one of the barstools, flagging down Liz Taylor, the bartender. She grabbed a glass from the shelf, making her way towards me with a smile on her lips.

"What will we be having tonight, Mrs March? A martini, mayhaps? Scotch on the rocks?" She offered, wiping down the counter, her metallic nails shining in a stark contrast compared to the white of the cloth.

"I don't know, Liz, surprise me. Give me something strong." I replied, sighing deeply. She smirked at me, but went ahead and prepared the drink nonetheless.

"Something the matter, sweetcheeks? It's a little odd to see you down here drinking by yourself without your glamorous man beside you." She set a small glass full of amber liquid in front of me, waiting intently to hear my story. I downed the glass in one gulp, my throat burning pleasantly.

"James seems to find more interest in mutilating other women than he does in me, as of late." I said, circling the rim of the glass with my nail.

"The sex isn't good, is it?" Liz asked, refilling my cup knowingly. I shook my head, taking my time on the drink.

"It's not that, believe me. It's amazing when it does happen, to say the least." I answered rapidly, my eyes darting around the lobby, waiting for James to appear and punish me for even saying such a thing.

Before Liz or myself had a chance to open our mouths again, a man slid up next to me. He looked sleazy, borderline filthy, even. Blonde hair with black roots almost matted down to his head, greenish yellow eyes, and a 5 o' clock shadow that obscured most of the bottom half of his face.

"How are you ladies doing tonight? I couldn't help but overhear your troubles, baby. A husband unwilling to satisfy your needs? Deplorable." He shook his head, reaching in front of me and downing the rest of my drink without my permission.

  "Yeah, it gets rather lonely with no one to please me. It's just me and my hands, if you know what I mean." I grinned devilishly, holding up my fingers in a scissoring motion. I had no intent on actually sleeping with the man, just wanting to tease him and play along with him instead. 

  "I could help you out, if you don't mind. What do you say to a night in with me, babygirl? I could make you feel really good."

I wasn't going to let it go any further, much less entertain his offer. Before I could turn him down, however, it seems my choice was made for me.

"I think she'd say no to that, unfortunately." My husband said, suddenly appearing behind me. "It seems she's a little tied up at the moment to even consider the thought. I trust we won't have to discuss this any further?" He maintained his composure, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his cane, aching to bash the man's head in with it.

"Go on, run away." I said, winking at him while making a shooing motion with my hand. "Like they always do." I muttered under my breath. As the man shuffled off awkwardly, I turned towards my husband, draping his arm over my shoulder in faux affection.

"What are you doing down here all by yourself, dearest? Drinking at such an unreasonable hour?" He asked, leaning against the bar top.

"I'm not by myself, Liz is h-" I tried to explain, but James cut me off.

"I'm sure Miss Taylor doesn't need you pestering her anymore while she works, now does she?" He looked to her for confirmation, but not waiting for her to say anything before dragging me away from the bar. Liz mouthed me a 'good luck' before we both disappeared around the corner.

James, surprisingly, remained silent the whole way up to room 64. It made me worry slightly, but I brushed it off as irritation towards the bar creep's actions. I shrugged my coat off and sauntered towards the closet to get changed, before I could get very far, James grabbed me by the throat and pinned me to the wall, nudging my feet apart and shoving a knee in between my legs.

  "You think you're getting off easily after that little stunt, do you darling?" I remained quiet, prompting him to tighten his grip on my airways, a choked moan escaping me.

"I guess I thought you'd just ignore it, like you ignore me." I sassed.

"Need I remind you that you're mine, my dear. Mine and no one else's for all of eternity." He growled into my ear, biting down on the sensitive skin of my jawline. "Say it back to me." I smirked, deciding to push my luck as far as it would go.

"Say what?" I teased, biting my lip provocatively. That seemed to be the last straw as James yanked me away from the wall, tossing me onto the bed carelessly. I heard clothing rustling behind me as I flipped over and watched my husband undress before me. He stalked towards me, towering above me as he leaned over the bed.

"Such a lovely gown you're wearing, Mrs March," he accented the 'ch', ripping the dress apart by its seams. "Such a shame it had to go." His mouth latched onto my nipple, my hands shooting up to wrap around his neck. He suddenly stopped his ministrations, drawing a whine from me.

"If you touch me again, I'll have to make sure you won't, and I don't think you'll like where that'll get you." James warned, moving his focus to my neck instead. I immediately disobeyed him, latching onto his shoulder instead.

"It seems to me you need a reminder, darling." He pulled away from me completely, retrieving his leather belt from the pile of clothing. My mouth grew dry at the sight of it, arousal seeping in between my thighs. James lifted my head from the bed, wrapping the leather around it and securing it just tight enough to constrict my airways.

He flipped me over, the leather twisting around the skin of my neck. I was pulled up by the leash, snapping my gaze towards the wall. "Get on your knees." The words sent shivers down my spine as I moved, not hesitating to obey.

James pushed my underwear to the side, wasting no time before slamming into me, stretching me deliciously. I cried out, nearly ripping the sheets with my acrylics. He seemed to thrust in an uneven pace, starting out fast and hard, slowing down to soft and deep. My face burrowed into the mattress, muffling my moans and groans. Noticing this, he sped up his movements and tugged sharply on the belt, ripping my head from the soft blankets below.

  "Don't silence yourself, dearest. I want everyone to hear who you belong to," his free hand came down swiftly on my backside, surely leaving an enflamed handprint on the tender skin. I gasped at the feeling, moving my hips in tandem with James' thrusts. His cock slammed even deeper into my welcoming heat, now brushing my cervix.

I subconsciously clenched around him, pulling a groan from behind me. One hand reached underneath me, toying with my clit, while the other pulled on the belt, the leather searing against my skin. I writhed beneath him, moaning obscenely as he pushed me closer and closer to orgasm.

  "Are you going to cum, darling? Maybe now you'll be able to tell me who owns you." James grunted, administering a sharp tug on my leash and a pinch to my nub.

  "J-James, I'm-" I choked out as I came. He thrusted into me, even faster than I thought was possible, riding me through my orgasm. My body fell limp, dropping against the sheets. I heard a dark chuckle behind me as I was rolled over onto my back, now staring up at James.

  "Aww, look at you, a sweaty, writhing mess beneath me," He groped my thighs, spreading them as far apart as he could. The belt was unbuckled from my throat, instead wrapped around my hands and looped through the bedpost, securing them tightly above my head. "I'm not done with you yet."

James slammed back into my oversensitive wetness, filling me up once again. I felt every inch of him against my walls, my insides churning with pleasure.

  "James - fuck- p-please let me touch you!" I groaned, leaning back into the pillowy softness beneath me.

  "Not until you can me who you belong to, Mrs March." He panted, his pattern growing uneven. ("Your pattern needs to be no pattern") "You will cum only when I say so, do you understand?" I nodded weakly.

  "Tell me you understand!" He grabbed my throat, my pulse thundering under his fingertips.

  "I understand, Mr March." I rasped, my eyes rolling back. He moved his grip to my hips, grasping them roughly as he bucked his hips into me, the sensation making me mewl. 

  "That's a good girl." James rocked his hips at a harder pace, the head of the bed knocking into the wall. I was a moaning mess underneath him, whining and mumbling unintelligibly. "Now cum for me, darling." He cooed, his thumb grinding against my clit.

I cried out in ecstasy, my back arching into my husbands chest. I saw white as my second orgasm washed over me, barely comprehending James coming inside me. He pulled out, hovering over me with a burning intensity.

  "Now, Y/N, would you care to tell me who owns you, or do I have to punish you further?" He spoke in a gravelly tone, an octave lower than usual. His fingers entered me without warning, curling against my sensitive spot as they brushed my insides.

  "You! Fuck, you do! You own me, James! I'm yours, your little slut to play with!" I whimpered, my nails digging into my palms still restrained above my head.

  "There you go." He praised, slipping his fingers out of me as he undid the belt from my hands. "Now, now, dear, was that so hard?"

I slumped against the bed, earning a chuckle from James at my fucked-out state. I crawled under the covers, to tired to even redress myself. James slid in beside me, pulling me to his chest.

  "You did so good for me, sweetling." He carded his fingers through my hair, tracing patterns on my lower back. "I love you."

  "I love you too, James." I mumbled before succumbing to the sleep beckoning to me.

———————————————————————

i understand this is smut, and not everyone is comfortable reading that, but i’m still going to go with my usual taglist.

let me know if you want to be added or removed!

TAGLIST: @lvngdvns @crimsonmoonss @life-rocked-me-like-motley @notquitepainless @magicaljellydonut @totally-true-smut @totally-true @exvanpeters @evandearest @gretaahs @justauthoring @rosesometimeswrites @imma-witch-bitch @psychobitchtess @gracebtw @cobainlover @heavymetalover @felloff-the-moon @michael-langdon-baby @peachyklss

#james march #james march x reader #james march fic #james march imagine #james march smut #ahs hotel #ahsfx #american horror story #ask #ask response #smut ask #tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #rory monahan #kai anderson

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH3 PT12 (end of chapter)

Sorry for my tardiness!! 2020′s one heck of a no thanks pal

AS A HEADS UP!!: I have already finished chapter four so there will be another post next Wednesday/Thursday. Now, normally I would do a one shot about Ike before I post the chapter but, because it took me so long to post this one, I won’t keep you guys waiting this time. And, trust me, you don’t want to wait too long for this next post ;P Enjoy the last part of chapter three!!

Warnings: None. Lucien being a fluffy boy. Adrienne being a queen. I guess Ike says the word “hell” if you’re sensitive to that........ oh but the epilogue gets intense. Without spoiling anything, be prepared to hate me for that cliffhanger :D

(Chapter Three (Victor and Lucien) prologue and part one, and parts two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven here~)

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D)) 

Chapter three:

Part twelve:

I sighed as I leaned on the entryway of the front porch, taking in the fresh autumn air. The neighborhood was nearly completely dark with a few dull street lights and dimly lit houses surrounding the block. I closed my eyes and went over what happened that night in my head.

After our group hug, Bart and Maria apologized profusely for being so distant and rude and promised to keep my thoughts and feelings in mind next time I made that kind of decision. I assured them that I wouldn’t do something like that again, but something in me told me that that was a lie. Sam went on telling everyone that he had trusted me the whole time and that he would never doubt me like they had. Adri praised him but Maria didn't find his words to be all that funny. Chris hadn’t uttered a word the whole time they spoke. Lucien offered to pop the champagne he had brought but I insisted on them having it without me, wanting to get that fresh air I had set out for before. This time, they let me go without question.

Shifting slightly against the creaky wood, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and opened it up. Scrolling through my contacts, I stopped at a particular name.

Victor.

My finger hesitated over the call button. Victor had asked me to call him whenever I had a bad day. Would today count? Should I tell him? Or was he just saying that I could call him to be nice?

The front door opened, quickly snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw Lucien stepping out of it. He was carrying two champagne glasses full of a bubbly substance. He locked eyes with me and smiled. “May I join you?” He asked sweetly.

“Only if one of those glasses is for me.” I said, standing from the entryway and pocketing my phone. Lucien’s smile widened as he walked out into the cold and towards me. He handed me one of the glasses. “Although you might want to extinguish that fire.” I said nonchalantly as I took a glass.

“Fire?” Lucien asked.

“The one on your pants. You know, from all your lying.” I took a sip of the champagne as I watched Lucien’s face. He was still clearly confused so I continued, “Your cold? That you had gotten from looking for me last night? Yeah, that was a lie. Your eyes aren’t puffy, you don’t sound congested, you’ve only sneezed once tonight and that sneeze was at the dinner table and clearly faked.” My casual expression fell into one of a glare, “You’re a liar. You just wanted to get Maria riled up to pull an answer out of me.” Lucien paused for a moment longer. Then his lips curved into a teasing grin.

“Actually, my intention was to bring the topic up on my own.” Lucien said plainly, “Maria’s input was a pleasant surprise.” My eyebrows furrowed deeper.

“So instead of giving me the chance to have a sincere and honest explanation with you while we were alone, you decided to humiliate me in front of my family?” My words made Lucien drop his grin. I brought my champagne glass to my lips and directed my eyes back to the quiet neighborhood, “Cool. Cool cool cool. Noted.”

“I had no intention to humiliate you.” Lucien said earnestly, tilting his head so he reentered my vision, “I merely had the feeling that they hadn’t heard the truth about that night either. And, from their reactions, I could tell my feeling was correct.” My grip tightened on the glass as I took a long sip of my drink, avoiding Lucien’s eye contact further. Lucien sighed, “I’m sorry you feel humiliated, but don’t you feel better letting yourself go like that? It must have been strenuous to have kept all that to yourself.” I thought for a moment then shook my head.

“That doesn’t matter.” I growled, “That was a scummy thing for you to do. This night was supposed to be about Adri’s arrival. You made me look like a child begging for attention. Screaming for her mother to look at her and only her…” I paused, “... It was pathetic the way I acted. No wonder they-”

“Ike,” Lucien interrupted, “No one belittled you after you left. In fact, the first words Christopher said were, ‘That was strong of her to do.’ He was right. You showed strength in a way that you could never show in a gym. Strength that will stay with those kids for the rest of their lives. I’m sure everyone in that room cares even more for you then they did before... I know I do.” Lucien’s last words finally pulled my eyes away from the neighborhood and into him. They immediately met his eyes, full of gentle adoration. "Anyone who can speak so powerfully like that earns every bit of my respect. But you,” Lucien walked closer to me. I tried to keep the distance but ended up backing myself into the pillar behind me. Lucien closed the distance between us and leaned his arm on the pillar over my head, “You have earned much more than just respect from me.” His voice was lower than before, cutting out every other sound from around us. I could feel his warm breath against my chilled cheeks, making my face burn brightly.  Lucien chuckled.

“Is me being this close making you uncomfortable?” Lucien brushed his cold finger tip against my cheek as he looked meaningfully down to me.

“Wh-what do you think?!” I tried to hold the same indifferent tone but the distance that he held between us was nerve racking, sending my thoughts and voice spiraling out of control.

Lucien chuckled again but, instead of pressing the subject further, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, familiar looking bag. “You forgot this when you left yesterday.” Lucien teased, shaking the bag in front of me. I held out my hand and Lucien dropped it into my palm. It was the present he had bought for me at that strange thrift shop. I handed him my glass and pulled at the drawstring of the bag. I turned the bag upside down and a chain swirled onto my palm, only ending as a small charm in the shape of a flying bird topped it off. I eyed the necklace, slightly confused.

Lucien, sensing my confusion, said, “It’s a phoenix. A bird of legend that regenerates from the ashes that its predecessor burned in, becoming strong and young again.”

“I know what a phoenix is.” I arched my eyebrow and looked at Lucien, “Why would you want me to have this?”

“Because, much like the phoenix, I watched you rise from your ashes last night.” Lucien took the necklace from me and placed the glasses on a small table just behind me. Lucien opened the clasp of the necklace and reached around my neck to put it on. His cold fingertips occasionally grazed the back of my neck, causing me to tense and my face to flush.

After a moment of fumbling, Lucien pulled his hands away from me. The charm fell and stopped just below my collarbone. “You set your past aside to spend a night with me.” Lucien continued, “And then tonight, you showed me how strong you could be and let loose the fire you held inside of you."

“But I left you.” I quickly said, snapping my eyes onto his, “I didn’t learn anyth-”

“You can’t expect to completely change yourself in a night, can you?” Lucien softly interrupted my doubts. I looked in his eyes for a moment longer before looking down again. He may have been right, but why did I still feel so wry of him? After that night, after Lucien proved he wasn’t a threat, I should feel more trusting towards him, right? Was there something I was missing?

Lucien leaned closer to my face. I quickly leaned back, hitting my head against the post behind me. Lucien smirked and rubbed the top of my head softly. I tensed my shoulders.

“Don’t pet me like I’m a do-”

“Did you ever figure out what those flowers represent?” Lucien’s soft whisper shut my mouth instantly. I froze. I had completely forgotten about the flowers. Lucien, noticing my change of expression, shook his head slightly. His smirk turned into a soft smile.

Lucien opened his mouth but was interrupted by a creaking from the front door. I quickly whipped my head around and saw Adri standing in the doorway. She looked shocked at first but, slowly, her lips curved into a teasing grin. “Sorry,” Adri mused, “Should I come back later? Or would you like me to show you two to some place a little more... private?” I cleared my throat and I shoved Lucien away, a sharp burn running through my cheeks.

“Though I would love to take you up on that offer,” Lucien laughed playfully, “I’m afraid I must take my leave. I need to pack for my flight.”

“Flight?” I asked, feeling the flush in my cheeks slowly fade, “Where are you going?”

“It’s a business trip.” Lucien assured, centering his attention back onto me. He rested his hand on top of my head, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not worried.” I rolled my eyes and brushed his hand off of my head. Lucien smiled sweetly at me. He looked back to Adri.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Adrienne.” He said in his usual gentlemanly tone.

“Likewise.” She saluted him casually and leaned against the doorway. Lucien directed his attention back to me. He leaned in close to my face.

“Until we meet again, Evelyn.” He whispered, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a raging fit.

“S-since when did I give you permission to-”

Lucien kissed my cheek, silencing me. Waves of heat filled my body, making it impossible for me to calm myself. I felt a distinct burning rush to my cheeks and heart, catching my breath in the process. I quickly shoved Lucien away from me. "What the hell?!” I growled, glaring at him fiercely.

“Sorry.” He laughed, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Yeah, well, a warning would have been nice.” I muttered, still struggling to compose myself. Lucien arched an eyebrow.

“Now that you have been warned,” Lucien bent close to my face again, “would you like me to try again?” My eyes widened. I threw my hand onto Lucien’s mouth, stopping him from coming any closer.

“Don’t. you. dare.” I said through my teeth, the blush on my cheek betraying my attempt to be scary. Lucien chuckled and stood up again. He placed his hand on my head and patted it softly.

“Silly girl.” He sighed, “I’ll text you when I land safely, alright?” I opened my mouth to refuse but stopped.

“Fine.” I finally said, folding my arms and locking eyes with him, “Get home safe.” Lucien’s eyes flashed with surprise. Then they relaxed into that all too familiar front of adoration.

“You too.” He smiled warmly, “Goodnight, Evelyn.” Lucien turned and regarded Adri with a nod, who nodded back casually. Then he turned, catching my eyes with a glance before walking off the porch, avoiding the third step, and walking confidently to his car. I watched him leave. Some time had already passed since his kiss but my heart still slightly fluttered.

...

How could I still feel his lips on my cheek..?

“Wow!” Adri approached my side, “Are things normally this chaotic here?”

“Normally someone gets hurt.” I said, casually reaching for the glasses Lucien left behind.

“Well, the night is still young.” Adri chuckled and folded her arms in front of her, “So, you and the Professor, huh?” My hand froze over my glass. Growling, I grabbed both glasses. One by one, I gulped down each glass quickly and skillfully. I sighed as I faced the neighborhood again, taking a seat on the first step of the porch.

“Woah!” Adri giggled, “That bad?”

“You have no idea.” I sighed and closed my eyes,  letting the cold air cool my burning face. I heard the floorboards creak as Adri approached and sat next to me.

“Well, I like him.” Adri hummed. We both sat in silence for a moment, drinking in the night and the sounds of the still neighborhood…

“Hey." Adri suddenly said. I hummed my response, "Can we talk about what happened in there? You know, at dinner?” My stomach dropped.

“Sure.” I acknowledged her but kept my eyes closed, “What about it?”

“Well, that was quite an act you put on but, I think we both know it was bull.”

I flung my eyes open and whipped my head to Adri. She kept her gaze towards the neighborhood, a grin slowly forming on her lips.

“Excuse me?” I asked wryly.

“You were buffing!” Adri said simply, turning to me, “You told me in my room that you were an ‘emotionally distant adrenaline hog,’ right?”

“... Yeah?” I said, slowly catching on to what she was implying.

“Well, if that were the case then you would have embraced the mugging. In fact, you would have probably bragged about how you took him down with one punch. Like some sort of anime hero.” I raised my eyebrows slightly. She got me there, "My question is, why lie? What are you trying to hide from Lucien? It can’t be embarrassment.”

“Oh really?” I folded my arms, “And why’s that?”

“Because you had already made an absolute fool of yourself at the table.” There goes no one belittling me about what I said, “So, why then?”

After a moment, I furrowed my brow seriously, “...you want the truth?”

Adri looked me earnestly in the eye, “Yes.”

“I am an evolved human being with superpowers and a target on my back. I think Lucien may be in on the plan to kill me.”

“... Fine! Don’t tell me. But I’m going to just let Maria and Bart know that the whole thing was a lie and they were worried for nothing.” Adri moved to stand.

“Wait.” I grabbed Adri’s coat sleeve, “... I’m just... having trouble with being… normal.” Adri paused, then sat back down again, I continued, “Lucien was the first person I ever went on a date with. I’ve never really opened myself up for anyone before. I… don’t really know who I can trust.” An awkward silence brushed the air.

“... Well,” Adri dumped my arm playfully, “You can trust me!” I turned to look at Adri again. She was smiling confidently at me. I sighed and smiled softly back.

“I know.” I said happily, “What you did for me in there was really sweet. What with you making up a story and all.”

“Oh I didn’t make up anything!” Adri’s smile widened, “That whole thing about my friend getting her tongue stuck on a pole was true! It’s actually one of my favorite stories to tell!... if you wanna hear it that is.” I shrugged and turned to face her, leaning back against the pole and folding my arms. I waved for her to start talking. Adri beamed and turned to face me better as well. “The day was August eighteenth!” She began, wiggling her fingers in the air to prepare the scene. I listened to her carefully, enjoying the time we spent as sisters as that beautiful autumn evening came to a close.

Epilogue:

The weekend passed swiftly and, before I knew it, I was walking into my office once again. I had my eyes glued to my phone as I pushed open my door, paying no mind to what could have been behind it. A sweet, flowery fragrance graced my face, making me halt in my steps. I looked up and found a beautiful vase of flowers sitting predominantly in the middle of my desk. Startled, I walked over to them. “Minor?” I called out of my office, “Where did these flowers come from?” Minor poked his head in the door.

“Dunno!” He said, walking in briskly, “The delivery guy just told me they were for you.” I hummed, only half listening to what he had said. My attention was more focused on the most prominent part of the bouquet.

The blue hyacinth.

My fingers brushed the particular flower. My slowly eyes fell on a small, azure blue note sticking out from in between the flowers. I pulled it out and read it.

“The blue hyacinth represents fidelity and loyalty from the person giving the flowers. You can rely on me for any and all things.

“I promise you will never have to be alone again.”

“Lucien.” I whispered the donor’s name, a soft smile growing on my face. Minor looked at me, curiously.

“Who’s Lucien?” He pried. I dropped my smile and looked up at him. My eyes fell on his empty hands.

“Where’s my coffee?” Returning my voice to the same tactless tone as before, “It’s eight o’clock.”

“O-on your desk, of course!” Minor stammered, gesturing to my desk, “I would never forget such a thing!”

“Then why are you still here?” My tone dripped with disapproval as I arched my brow. Minor nodded quickly and left the room as quick as he entered, leaving me alone with the flowers. I returned my attention to the card in my hand, giving it one last look of fondness. Then I cleared my throat, putting the note carefully back in the vase, and started my day.

>>>

I had finally gotten back in the groove of working when Minor approached my desk and placed a mug in front of me. I looked at it skeptically. “What’s this?” I asked, gesturing to the mug with the pen in my hand.

“It’s green tea!” Minor responded cheerily, “It’s supposed to help heal sprained ankles!”

“You mean the sprained ankle I recovered from a week ago?” I asked, pushing the mug away with my pen, “I’ve still got my coffee. I don’t need this. Take it away.”

“I know, it’s just...” Minor shifted slightly in his shoes, “... Gavin asked me to make sure I helped you with your recovery in any way I can. And since he is being released from the hospital today, I figured I would try something a little extra! I want to make sure you and Gavin are at your best when you finally go ou-”

“Is Gavin your boss?”

“... No?”

“Then I don’t see why you are taking orders from him and not me.” I eyed Minor dangerously, “Get this away from me.

“Now.”

“Y-yes, mam!” Minor bowed apologetically and snatched the green tea from my desk. He left the room with haste, carefully trying not to spill contents of the mug in his hands. I rolled my eyes.

Gavin had been persistent that my well being was taken care of while he was at the hospital. Luckily I had worked Minor hard enough that, most of the time, he forgot about it.  Things tended to slip through sometimes though.

It was going to be nice to have it all behind us now that Gavin was getting out of the hospital. It was also going to be nice seeing him up and walking again. And out of those stupid hospital garments and back in his jean jacket…

That I had soaked and ruined with the smell of rotting fish.

I quickly scribbled a note about getting Gavin a new one when my phone rang.

“Speaking.” I demanded, answering so quick that I didn’t see the caller id.

“Woah! Is that any way to address your sidekick?”

My heart stopped.

Kiro.

Kiro had called me.

Stay cool, Ike. Stay cool.

“S-sorry!” I stammered, blushing slightly, “I didn’t see the caller id!”

“A likely story!” Kiro’s smirk played through his words, “So, the great Super Stranger is a business woman!”

My heart froze. “H-how did you...?”

“You answered the phone so professionally!” Kiro chuckled happily, “Business woman by day, hero by night! I’m writing that down in my notes!”

“Notes?” I asked slowly, “Notes for what exactly?”

“To guess who you are of course!! What else?!”

“Right.” I nervously cleared my throat, “So, why did you call me? Just to get more hints about who I am?”

“No, Silly!” Kiro’s laughed, easing my nerves slightly, “Savin just told me the good news! Your friend got the funding for the show! Congrats!!”

“Yeah.” The smile I had been trying to hold back finally released itself, “W-... they are starting filming in two weeks. Thank you, Kiro. They couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Hey, don’t call me Kiro!” Kiro pouted, “Call me by my hero name! Have you had time to think about it yet?” My stomach dropped.

“Actually, I have.” I cleared my throat and drummed my pen on my table. Nervous butterflies found their way back into my stomach, “I’m thinking something along the lines of-”

The sound of broken glass erupted from behind me, cutting me off. I covered my head and braced for contact.

When nothing came, I looked behind me. My window had been broken. The broken glass that still clung to the windowsill showed a strange shape, as if something had been thrown through it.

“Super Stranger? Are you ok?” Kiro’s worried voice snapped me back to attention, “What happened?”

“I’m... fine.” I slowly said, looking around, “Someone just... smashed my window. But how? We are on the second highest flo-”

My stomach dropped to my feet.

There, just beyond some glass fragments, was a black mask. On its forehead, sat a large, glistening, green scarab.

My breathing quickened as I stood briskly from my chair. It was exactly as Hickman had described it. Black mask and green scarab. There was no mistaking that it was the same thing.

Except it’s eyes were blinking.

Blinking with an all too familiar red light.

I dropped my phone.

This can’t be happening. My thoughts spiraled like they did at the warehouse, Not again. I can’t lose anyone else. Not like I lost Gavin. I looked around the room quickly trying to find a way out of it all. My eyes landed on my desk. I knew exactly what to do.

End of Chapter Three :D

(Next)

#that Lucien fluff is on flEEK TODAY FOLKS #it feels good to be back #and even better to introduce this next chapter #you know this victor stan has had enough waiting #and you knOW there will be more angst #dare i say #more then chapter three?? #stay tuned :D #mlqc #mlqc lucien #chapter four introduces a very important character...? #ike n bar productions #mr love ikes choice #mr love game #see you next week folks! #brxudq

[fortune-fool02]

Date Night

Jean Pierre Polnareff x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

Please enjoy.

Polnareff ran the comb through his wonderful hair one final time before finally setting it down, happy that it was perfect before grabbing his keys and making his way out his apartment, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

After a handful of weeks of being unable to spend some quality time with his lover, [Name], Polnareff had had enough. He had told her to put everything on hold and spend a night with him to unwind and relax before she collapsed from exhaustion. He hated seeing his lover stressed and worn out so he wanted to help her. 

And by that, he decided it would be perfect to take her out on a date. Just them two. No work, no enemies, nothing. Just him and her. 

***

The door to [Name]’s apartment opened, revealing his beloved in a beautiful outfit that fit her perfectly, [Hair colour] locks tied in a loose plate that framed her delicate face. Polnareff felt his breath escape him. Every time he saw her, she was more beautiful than he ever recalled. 

“You’re beautiful, ma chérie.” The comment left his lips without realising it, brushing over her cheeks and leaving a shade of red there. A smile on her lips, her hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you. You’re just as handsome as ever.” she shot back, making Polnareff smile brightly. He pulled himself from his little daze and presented her with the large bouquet of vibrant red roses. 

“These are for you, though you’re beauty is only making them jealous.” Polnareff chuckled at her growing blush as she took them, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek before dashing off to put the flowers in a vase. 

Polnareff and [Name] have not been dating long but they have been friends for a while. From the moment they locked eyes, there was a connection. A force drawing them together at any given chance; each time Polnareff tried to admit his feelings for her, something prevented that. An enemy attack, mostly but there were some occasions where it was his own nerves that stopped him. He was a flirt by nature, praising and complimenting women -especially [Name]- but when it came to true feelings, he stumbled a little. 

Then, one day, he had had enough of tripping over his own feelings and told her how he felt about her. How she could light up his day just by being there. How each time he saw her sad he felt his heart ache. How he was willing to do anything to make her happy. For her to return his feelings was something he had prayed for but didn’t actually expect to happen. The Frenchman was over the moon when she admitted her own feelings for him. 

Thus leading to this. He took her smaller hand into his and led her down to the car parked outside the building, smiling all the while. 

***

The car drive was silent, not awkwardly silent but that nice, comfortable silence where no one felt like they needed to make small-talk. Peaceful. A sense of security filled the car as if there was an invisible shield around the vehicle, protecting both of them from anything that could harm them as well as all the worries of the world. 

Parking the car in the car park, Polnareff rushed out the car and ran around to [Name]’s side, opening the door for her. She thanked him and stepped out, these sweet displays of affection was something she was not used to but she welcomed with open arms; she also tried to return these gestures with equal affection which Polnareff adored. Sometimes he wondered how he could be so lucky to have such a wonderful woman to call his own. 

Dinner was nothing short of wonderful. Candle light glowing between the two lovers, casting a soft, romantic atmosphere. Polnareff making small jokes throughout it just to make [Name] smile and with each smile, he felt his heart bloom with warmth like a flower on a summer day. The soft light brushing against her face made her appear to glow with an angelic look. 

***

After dinner, the two made their way out of the restaurant when Polnareff caught a glimpse of someone watching them. Oddly enough, he recognised the person from inside the restaurant, who had been watching them from the corner of the room. The man didn’t order a single thing the entire time he was there. 

“Ma chérie, get in the car and wait for a moment. Don’t leave the car.” The playfulness he tried to mask his concern with didn’t fool [Name] but she did as told, taking a seat in the car and watching him walk off towards the alley. Before he even disappeared around the corner, she got out and followed him, concern nipping at her. 

As she rounded the corner, she caught a glimpse of Polnareff’s Silver Chariot dashing down the alley. If Polnareff’s Stand was summoned that meant there was danger close by, and Polnareff was at risk! Quickly, she rushed down the alley, following where she saw the Stand run down only to watch as her French lover was thrown into the wall with a pained groan. A thin trail of blood trickling down the side of his face.

“Polnareff.” At her voice, the silver-haired male’s head snapped his head up at her, eyes wide at the sight of her. 

“Ma chérie! I told you to stay in the car!” he shouted, jumping to his feet. As [Name] opened her mouth, a sharp pain struck her side, sending her flying into a wall. A pained groan slipped her lips, her hand clutching her shoulder that burned with pain.

Her [Eye colour] orbs looked up to see the Enemy Stand hovering over her, a bladed weapon in its hand as it pointed the blade at her. Before she had a chance to summon her own Stand, the blade came swinging down. 

“[Name]!” Polnareff’s fear-laced voice shouted followed by the clashing of metal as Silver Chariot’s rapier blocked the attack, protecting her. With that moment of time, [Name]’s Stand materialised in front of her, lashing out at the Enemy Stand with brutal attacks. Her mind set on one thing and one thing only: Protect Polnareff. That was the only though that swirled inside of her head, everything else was irrelevant. 

With a powerful strike, the Enemy Stand’s head cracked under her Stand’s fist, earning a painful scream from the user as the wounds inflicted themselves upon him. Bones crushing could be heard as the man collided into the wall, his head splitting open from the impact of both the wall and [Name]’s Stand. His life ending then and there. 

[Name]’s Stand faded, the adrenaline fading along with it and allowing the pain of her injuries to seep in. Her hand clutched her shoulder, it wasn’t broken but it was bruised badly, nothing to cause concern. She turned to Polnareff and was immediately engulfed in a hug from the Frenchman. 

“My love, are you hurt? What did I tell you? You should’ve stayed in the ca-” [Name] cut his off by cupping his face with her hands, her eyes gazing into his sky blue eyes with a softness that eased his worry. 

“Jean, I am fine. I didn’t want to see you hurt, that’s why I didn’t stay in the car.” she told him. Polnareff sighed, holding her close, 

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt, my love. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” she smiled at him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips and resting her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat in a steady rhythmic pace. 

Polnareff smiled, enjoying the warmth that her bod radiated. He would never let anything happen to her. He loved her too much for that.

#polnareff #jean pierre polnareff #jojo bizarre adventure #polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff x reader #jojo bizzare adventure x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #polnareff stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders x reader

[scoundrels-in-love]

We draw a line in the sand, We say don't cross this or else (Take this from me, take this lonely heart )

Brienne hasn't believed love itself is enough to defeat all obstacles for a long time.

When Jaime comes to join the convoy returning North after Dragonpit, it's not about them loving each other - it's about survival.

But maybe it can be about love, too.

Also on AO3.

I

 Brienne hasn’t believed love is enough in a long time.

 Like a flower, this childish belief has gradually lost its colorful petals - blown away by harsher fall winds that had blown out candles of her mothers’ and infant sisters’ lives, trashed to ground by cold rain like waves had battered Galladon’s body against the cliffs, fallen away from the first touch of frost that her decision to leave had brushed upon her relationship with her father.

 Love could not carry you over the pits in the road or take you over the mountains life raised in your path. Only you yourself could try to overcome these obstacles, assisted by it’s sometimes gentle, sometimes bruising hand.

 She still carries imprints of those, they ache dully into the night when she could not sleep, when neither crackling of fire or familiar shuffling of camp settled down (but never quite at peace) could soothe her.

 Her love could not save Renly when he bled out in her arms, so far from his own beloved.

 Just as her oaths and beliefs could not save Lady Stark - or her late Lady’s love had not saved her family.

 Much like Jaime, whose golden, cracked heart could not dispel darkness over Cersei’s mind with its glow.

 And, in turn, she could not follow its shine into the marshes, in hopes to find him and pull him back on safe, stable ground.

 Yet, she had dared to hope, for a brief moment in Dragonpit, when their traded glances held the weight of gathering storm clouds upon the horizon - they could dispel yet, giving way to a sun so bright it blinds in its play or unleash a storm that would devour fleets in minutes.

 She had been blind, alright. But no sun had been present, except for the resplendent Lannister twins. And what cruel desert suns they could be.

 “Fuck loyalty,” she had told him, but now it tastes like salt and ash of burned would-bes in her mouth. Brienne would feel better if she could truly, honestly say she had meant it, without a single, passing thought of ‘fuck loyalty to her, your sister, and maybe you will find a different sort loyalty in the smoking ruins of what Cersei has reduced your love to’.

 Selfish, even when she tried to do what is right, even when she tried to save him.

 And so, so godsdamn angry when she could not.

 Podrick calls considerable amount of it upon himself, when she glares at the boy as he tumbles into her tent, red faced and out of breath.

 “Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime just arrived with a handful of men and announced he has a meeting with you.”

 II

 Jaime looks slightly out of place in her tent, but that is less disconcerting than the fact he is here and how much he still looks like he belongs. She has spent many years in war camps, too, but Brienne knows she looked a lot more misfit in his lavish Commander’s tent back in Riverrun.

 (She tries not to think about the implications of that, tries and fails.)

 “I could have exposed your lie,” she tells him, plainly. The implied should sways between them like an axe’s blade, edge of it glinting in the candle light.

 “But you didn’t.”

 “Do not make me regret it.” She regrets immediately, for the flicker of doubt, an almost hurt that casts shadows over his eyes, dips into the lines of his face, making her think of all the pain that others have inflicted on him with their dismissals and accusations.

 “Cersei does not intend to send her forces. I overheard her speaking with Qyburn, her rat of a Hand, about how she intended to keep me in the dark until the last possible moment.”

 He barrels on, which is for the best, because with a moment to speak or act, she might have walked up to cup his clenched jaw, take his fist in her hands until it warmed and melted open again under her touch.

 “I bade my time, took my most trusted men and raced to catch up with you. I doubted I would be given a chance to explain myself and enter the camp, so I lied and said this is what we had spoken about at Dragonpit.”

 She knows there are countless questions to ask, about logistics, about how many men he had trusted and if they could indeed be trusted, about, about, about, but all that she has on her tongue is: “Why?”

 It comes out quiet and paper thin, a rustle of dry leaves to reflect the drought in her mouth.

 Jaime walks forward, stops a step away from her, and she can see more clearly now how distraught he really is. It’s not even the way his beard is far from the well-maintained form it had been back at Dragonpit or the tension in his shoulders, his whole body, really. There is something broken and hopeful and soft in his eyes, which she has only one word for, but not one she can give it.

 She thinks he looks like a page torn from a book that hopes she will sew him back into another tome, instead of tossing him into the fire.

 “If I have to go North and die fighting decayed monsters, at least we can do it together, Brienne.”

 She has been addressed in many ways and her name dragged through spit, blood and mud, but the way he says it now is as if he has washed it clean and is holding it tenderly. It lances through her heart, right next to where his solemn proclamation is buried hilt deep.

 “You are seeking out an honorable death, is that it?” Later she wonders if her voice rose in volume, but right now, all she can feel is anger as a wall built hastile in response to the hurt.

 “We all die and this is perhaps one way I can actually be useful doing it.” She sees him closing up, too, retreating now that the conversation had spun out of his hands, though Brienne does not know where he had wanted to take it.  

 “Ser Jaime, do you intend to live or to die?” He flinches at her use of his title, the moat she has haphazardly dug around herself filling with water rapidly. And yet, she still hopes he will give something, so she can lower the drawbridge.

 “You know none of us can intend much in a battlefield.”

 The gate falls shut and she knows Jaime sees it, hope that has been crumbling already turned into foggy resignation and yet the softness stays.

 “Very well, Ser Jaime. I will make necessary arrangements for the stay of you and your men. I am sure your brother will be happy to let you spend tonight in his tent.”

 “Good night, Lady Brienne.”

 III  

 Handful of men turn out to be a good fifty well armed and equally trained soldiers and while rest of the camp is vary of them initially, enough for them to be somewhat glorified prisoners, the trial which Brienne had worried for is seemingly postponed until they reach Winterfell and over the journey, the tension eases and connections are made.

 She, too, finds herself making some - particularly with Jaime’s second in command, Addam Marbrand. Next morning, after she had finished training with Pod, he had strode over to her, all easy swagger and seemingly genuine respect, introducing himself and pressing kiss to back of her hand as he told he had heard great many things of her valour and battle skills.

 Perhaps it is what he chooses to praise or his eagerness when sparring, or the way he lures a shadow of smile or a familiar scowl out of Jaime over stories he shares of their childhood that makes her feel more at ease around him than she normally would.

 Or maybe she spends time with him because it is closest to natural excuse she has to be near Jaime. At first, she had avoided him and he seemed to do the same, but then Addam had started dragging him to campfires and early morning spars.

 “If you intend to watch Lady Brienne’s six, you could do better than merely be a body shield for one or two wights,” he had said the first time, ignoring Jaime’s grimace (and earning a notch on her appreciation scale).

 After she and Addam are done with him, he has more than a remark to make faces about. But he grins and bears it, quite literally, and within a week he taunts them in return and the improvement is clear. Sometimes, she almost forgets where they are and what awaits them, with the way their swords sing and banter warms the space between them. Some of it is stilted still, bear pits of silences they stumble into, especially when it is just her and Jaime, the unspoken things just as dangerous as the beast that left its mark on her body.

 Especially so on quiet nights when they find themselves sitting together and gazing at the moon in her milky garden, promising cold weather. It makes her wonder if that single, wilted flower could’ve been part of an azalea instead, which now mistakes the warmth of his shoulder for the arrival of Spring. But the Winter is not just coming - it is already here.

 IV

 Though Winterfell is half-sunken in snow, something seems to thaw in Jaime after his trial has passed. There is uncertainty to him still, like he is a spring that hasn’t found the path it will carve out ahead just yet, but he throws himself into the preparations earnestly and his eyes glint with color of laughter (green of new leaves) more often.

 It feels selfish to seek him and Addam out, under guise of discussing strategies and overall progress, when she merely wants a moment of breathing, away from everything that they’re actually supposed to think about. She draws in air so deeply, so greedily it actually hurts - hurts when Jaime’s hand hovers near hers as they stand on battlement and his smile is warmer than memories of sun, clouds on its edges because they know this is not enough. And he cannot give her more.

 Yet he does.

 Addam had mentioned her (lack of) knighthood before, but she had brushed him off. It is the last thing on her mind, when Jaime stands up abruptly after Tyrion mentions most of the people present have fought the Starks at one point, yet now they are united to defend their castle.

 “There would have been no one to truly reclaim it, if not for Lady Brienne, who brought Lady Sansa home,” he says, almost conversationally, but she can sense the flood of certainty rolling generous waves within him. She fears she is the river banks it intends to swallow.

 “And if there is to be a new dawn, it deserves to be greeted by one true knight in these seven wretched kingdoms.” Jaime sets his cup down and moves to the center of the room, the sound of him unsheathing Widow’s Wail almost deafening in the quiet that has entangled everyone.

 “Kneel, Lady Brienne.”

 She wants to laugh it off, before he can, before someone says ‘women cannot be knights’, before -- but only he exists outside the silence and she has no voice. Somewhere, on the edges of her vision, Addam and Podrick smile at her with such pride and encouragement that it sweeps her off her chair and toward Jaime, like he is the lighthouse and the cliffs that could shatter her all at once.

 He guides her to the shore, gleaming in the firelight, and her legs wobble as her lip does when she stands up, now a knight.

 In that moment, love isn’t just enough, it is everything, and all she can see is flurry of pink in golden sunlight.

 V

 Morning comes, but the night has taken many under her cold, silent wings.

 She has lost the count of how many times she thought it will carry away those dearest to her, instead it had become a rod of ice next to her backbone that hadn’t let her bend or break, or stop even for a moment as they fought through the Long Night.

 It still has not melted, almost a day later, because Addam is laying pale in a makeshift infirmary bed. Only for a moment, she had lost sight of him, but it could as well have been an infinity, because next time a wave of wights crested and fell apart, so was he crumbling to the ground. They had managed to drag him along as they were forced to retreat towards a wall, clinging to the ragged breath he still drew and the hope it could be over soon, but if the battle had lasted even half an hour more, he would have faded away propped against the stone, now uselessly protected by three swords.

 She has not seen him since they brought him to Maester that night, immediately overtaken by  duties, interrupted only by short and restless sleep where sometimes it was Jaime, sometimes Addam and even Podrick that fell (and then rose) in her dreams. But now she is here and so is Jaime, who has little else to do than to be by his friend’s bed and mend his own wounds.

 He chides Brienne for looking as if she will keel over herself, has few choice words for Lady Sansa’s inability to manage even a day without her, and drags her on a stool next to his. Doesn’t let her hand go even afterward - it is rough and warm, and familiar somehow, though they have barely ever touched. As if all the countless dreams she has had have somehow become a piece of truth, reality, embedded in her body and mind.

 “Brienne, he will live,” Jaime tells her and she wants to tell him he cannot know that, not with the clarity he bears, but she smiles a little and nods in return, because it is good one of them can be so assured of it.

 “And so will I.” His voice is almost solemn, trembling just a little like he isn’t sure if this promise is even wanted, though he must, just as she had known his heart. And she thinks of the gaping abyss they still have yet to cross which love will not lift them gently over on its own, and of the way she cannot think of taking another step without his hand in hers, and then she is kissing him, soft and sweet and he cannot taste like first warm spring rain, yet he somehow does.

 “Could not wait until I am good enough to say finally with all the panache it deserves, could you?”

 They startle apart, though Jaime’s hand stays on her shoulder, still drawing her closer even if it is awkward at this angle. Addam still looks pale, but she appreciates seeing his eyes again, the glimmer of mirth and relief making him seem more lively than he logically can be.

 When she stands to call Maester, she thinks she was right - love itself might not be enough. But when it is encased with support and trust and oaths that are hard to give but easy to uphold once said, and life that shall be lived and shared, it becomes something that makes roads and homes in impossible places. And somewhere in her heart, azalea blooms dizzyingly as the color drips back into the landscape.

#Braime #Braime ff #Jaime x Brienne #got #Braime fanfiction #my fic #rainy writes stuff

[hall-of-merlin2]

Magic, Monsters and Merthur - 1x03 - (Merthur)

I see what the people want, I give the people what they want.

Loads, loads, and holy fuck how much character content can there be in one episode???!!!

A lot.

A whole frickin lot.

<_><_><_>

“Dad? her’es your sandwich.”

“Mmm, what’s in it?”

“It’s smoked pigeon, but I’d say there’s more smoke than pigeon.”

***

“And I’ve done you some watercress soup tonight.”

“Don’t tell me... With more water in it than cress?”

03:02

This is just… This is so frickin’ adorable. They’re both cuties, and I will declare now that “cutie” is the highest praise a character can get.

A new list is born, except we’re not comparing Cuties, we’re just all getting mushy over them.

<_><_><_>

03:45

AWH!

This is such obvious flirting! Even more obvious than Arthur and Merlin, I daresay, but then it went nowhere because someone suddenly realized that Gwen needed to end up with Arthur. I wish whoever it was that they didn’t.

(JUST LOOK AT THEIR SMILES THEY’RE SO FRICKING ADORABLE)

<_><_><_>

04:10

Okay, so I’m not the biggest Morgwen shipper, but…

Come on! This really is sweet!

(And can you blame Morgana for falling for Gwen? Just look at that Cutie’s smile!)

<_><_><_>

04:40

And on the flipside we have Arthur “I’ll come all the way out to this tower that’s directly opposite everything else just to give you a message by myself and not let another servant or guard do it for me” Pendragon.

Both Pendragons really are completely gone for their servants.

<_><_><_>

04:48

I like Gaius’ face though.

He looks like he’s one second away from shaking his head and looking at Merlin in that look that’s just so exasperated at Merlin taking everyone’s hearts on his first week.

<_><_><_>

05:02

Gaius: Has a point.

Merlin: :O

Merlin: >:(

<_><_><_>

05:08

YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

<_><_><_>

“But not all magic is bad. I know it isn’t!”

“It’s neither good nor bad. It’s how you use it.”

07:50

The first version of the “Evil lies in the hearts of men” line.

So, once again, YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

<_><_><_>

08:40

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

-aaaaaaaaa, nah. It’s just Arthur getting back at Merlin for “Being late”.

What a different episode THAT would have been…

<_><_><_>

09:38

Arthur uses a snappy tone.

(Almost an accusation.)

But Gaius is having none of it.

And Arthur immediately SITS THE FUCK DOWN.

God, imagine how Arthur would have turned out if Gaius wasn’t there to “occasionally” remind Arthur that he will not be taking his shit and he can get off that pedestal now.

YA’LL WANNA TALK ABOUT SOMEONE ICONIC-

Okay okay I’m gonna stop.

Gaius has earned the Cutie award.

Welcome to the big leagues!

<_><_><_>

Are you mad? Merlin, your life’s destined for more important things.

But what if I don’t practice, then how will I get to be this… Great Warlock?!

There will come a time when your skills will be recognized.

*Frustrated noises* When?! How long do I have to wait?!

Patience is a virtue, Merlin.

Oh sitting by and doing nothing, that’s a virtue?

*Raises ladle* Your time. Will come.

I point this out a few episodes later, but this is the real difference between Gaius and Kilgharrah.

Both of their goals are to get Merlin to fulfill “his destiny”. Kilgharrah may know more of what his “destiny” actually is, but Gaius has no clue. He truly has no reason to believe that Merlin is “one side of a coin” or that Arthur is important in his “destiny”, he just sees how powerful Merlin is.

He also sees just how eager Merlin is to use his magic. How he understands the more complex concepts of magic and knows how to use it, and has quite the moral compass, that Merlin is actually prepared for “his destiny” or “doing good”, but he also sees what a hothead Merlin is, how quickly he jumps from one thought to another, how little he thinks at all once he gets something into his head. Gaius knows that whatever Merlin’s “destiny” is, he could probably handle it with what he’s already taught him, but he also knows that this thing is not “it”. And realizing that Merlin still has to wait, knowing how disinterested he actually is in that, he tries to get Merlin to power through this time. He tries to instill this “hope” into him, that he will be great, that he will be free, that he will be fine and that he just has to endure, and not kill everybody along the way.

The intent is good. And I think Merlin realizes this later, but at this stage, Merlin is still not used to sitting still. I don’t think he ever is, he’s just become more clever about it.

Also… Please enjoy yet another perfectly timed screencap.

He look happy.

<_><_><_>

What’s different about this victim?

Uh… She’s a woman!

…

Sometimes I do wonder if your magical talents were given to the right person.

12:10

Gaius is so fuckin done XD

Ahhh okay. Gaius gets the Snarky Cutie award. This will be competed for, let’s see who holds it the longest.

<_><_><_>

So what’s the thing they do share?

Uh… Water.

*Encouraging pen pointing*

Water. You think the disease is spread through water!

Merlin. You’re a prodigy.

12:45

Yeah… Gaius is keeping this award for a long time.

<_><_><_>

17:19

Oh… Oh my poor Merlin… My poor boy is reminded that he has no father to hug :(

Is that one of the reasons he acted so impulsively? Besides the obvious one, that he loves Gwen – but did Merlin cure Gwen’s father because he didn’t want Gwen to live without one, like he has?

Oh… Oh…

Oh my sweet precious sunshine, my heart just shattered.

MERLIN RECEIVES THE SELFLESS CUTIE AWARD. I DON’T THINK ANYONE WILL TAKE IT OFF HIM.

<_><_><_>

18:55

EPISODE 3 MAGIC REVEAL – THE DUO OF MERLIN AND GWEN, FUCKING SHIT UP SINCE MERLIN DECIDED TO COME TO CAMELOT.

WE DESERVED THIS.

“I’m psychic.”

*laughing* “No you’re not.”

“It’s true!”

“Alright, what am I thinking?”

“That I’m not psychic.”

*laughter* “You’re strange...

“I don’t mean that in a nasty way!

“You’re just... Funny.

“I like that.”

MY FUCKIN HEART.

THEY ARE BOTH SO ADORABLE!!!

THIS IS SO BLATANTLY OBVIOUS!

CUTIES OF THE HIGHEST CALIBER. THE ADORABLE CUTIES. THE MOST ADORABLE CUTIES TO EVER EXIST.

OH REALLY.

*loud screeching in the distance*

*sound of glass shattering*

NO THAT WAS MY HEART WHY DID YOU TAKE IT!

I MEAN CONGRATS YOU NOW HAVE IT! ARE YOU HAPPY?

I AM!

CUTIES!

<_><_><_>

“It’s too late. They think Gwen’s a sorceress, they think she caused the disease.”

“But she didn’t!”

22:25

By any means fucking necessary.

<_><_><_>

“I have seen the way the girl works. Her fingers are worn, her nails are broken.

“If she was a sorceress, why would she do this?!

“Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning, when she could make these things happen with the snap of her fingers?

“Like an idle king.”

“You have no right!…”

“But you have the right to cast a judgment-!”

“I have a responsibility to take care of this kingdom!”

…

“I take no pleasure in this.” (AS FUCKING IF)

“But you are sentencing the wrong person!”

“She’s right, Father. You hear the word ‘magic’ and you no longer listen.”

“You saw it for yourself, she used enchantments.”

“Yes!… Maybe. But to save her dying father! That doesn’t make her guilty of creating a plague.

“One’s the act of kindness, of love, the other of evil – I don’t believe evil’s in this girl’s heart.”

“I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I’ve suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance.

If there is the slightest doubt about this girl she must die or the whole kingdom may perish.”

“I understand that…”

“One day you may become king… Then you will understand – such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom.”

“I know witchcraft is an evil, Father, so is injustice!”

24:25

God, Morgana and Arthur uniting against Uther for Gwen and Uther just ignoring what they’re saying and repeating the same “mAgIC iS eViL hUr DuR” bullshit.

Uther should have died sooner.

Like… this episode.

Morgana should have just snapped.

<_><_><_>

27:25

Gwen the martyr.

I can already imagine it. People at the execution whispering among themselves “She’s a witch?” “No way! She’s so kind!” “Rumors say she’s not.” “She’s not! It’s just the King again.” “But if she’s innocent, why?” “He’ll burn a frog if he thought it would help.” “That’s dumb. She doesn’t deserve to die!” “No, she does not.”

I can imagine everyone looking away, quietly letting their anger build up, but unable or not courageous enough to save her. I can imagine the people whispering to themselves when the guards are out of earshot, about how “The king is out of control”, “Her death stopped nothing!” and more. How that anger they thought they buried flares up. How it seeps through the cracks they left. How it makes them draw a knife, and plunge it into a guard’s neck. How if they felt guilty, everyone who called them a hero say that was one of Them who stood by and watched it. How that anger forms a community, how it brings people together. How the first time the chopping block is being assembled after Gwen’s death, people start talking. Who’s dying, for what reason…

How can they stop it?

A direct assault? A stealthy escape? An infiltration into the guard ranks? Maybe torches? Make bombs?

Anyone here know magic?

Oh, you do! That’s great.

Let’s kill the king.

As amazing as this sounds, Gwen would have had to die. One of the Adorable Cutie Award holders.

I will not condone that.

<_><_><_>

28:40

Do you think Arthur’s so convinced Merlin can’t have done it because of what happened with Valiant, Merlin exposing a sorcerer, therefore his own kin if this were true? Or because, as Morgana said about Gwen

“Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning, when she could make these things happen with the snap of her fingers?”

Or because Arthur likes him just a little bit?

I think we all know what we want to believe.

<_><_><_>

“He’s in love.”

“...What?”

“With Gwen!”

“I am- not!”

“Yes you are.”

“No way-”

29:03

Oh boys…

<_><_><_>

“...Arthur’s not going to find it. He thinks he is… so sharp. But even when I told him I was a wizard – he still couldn’t see it.”

30:14

I don’t think Arthur noticing or not has anything to do with his intelligence, Merlin, just whether or not he’d like to see you burn :)

Also, Gaius.

“Sometimes it’s pretty hard to spot.”

“Maybe I should go around wearing a pointy hat.”

“I don’t think you’d find one big enough.”

That Award crown is staying firmly planted on his head.

<_><_><_>

32:16

Nope.

<_><_><_>

“We need to destroy [the afanc], then the plague will stop and Uther... may see sense.”

“And that’s why you need Arthur.”

“He’s our best chance.”

“But he won’t want to disobey the king.”

“Leave that to me.”

36:07

Morgana receives the Scheming Cutie Award! My girl knows what buttons to push to get men to listen to her and I think that’s very sexy of her.

<_><_><_>

36:35

Okay, both of these Cuties receive the True Sibling Cutie Awards. I don’t think there is anyone who can take their crown from them, unless…

The True part only means how accurately sibling dynamics are portrayed. Which opens up place for at least some competition!

Hahah! No one gets to have their Award forever.

(But everyone has permanent Cutie status.)

<_><_><_>

37:33

!!!

TRUST!!!

!!!

Merlin said what sounded like something made up, like he always does, but Arthur still goes in because he believes him!

(Yes yes Morgana’s influence may be there, like ‘Oh so you’re chickening out?’, but I THINK ONLY IN MERTHUR.

And I do that because it’s very scarce in this particular ep.)

<_><_><_>

38:01

I love this and all, but I can already think of a better way for Morgana to tell Arthur to stop being sexist.

Just pull out a fuckin sword.

Like… literally. Just from her dress. A knife maybe, but one that doesn’t look like it’s for a kid, a serious dagger that she could stab you with 50 times before you collapse from blood loss.

That’s a… Compliment to her swiftness, not… Not a comment on the dullness of the knife.

Morgana with a sword please!!!

<_><_><_>

43:19

Ah, the cop-out. The writers have committed a robbery.

(I do have to say that it is a masterful manipulation of our feelings. The first and then second episode was all about Merlin dealing with having magic and where to use it, trying to figure out his purpose and whatnot, and very strict repeats of “Do not let anyone else know, you will die”. There’s a reason Uther’s introduction is him killing an innocent sorcerer, and why Morgana is so angry at him about it. It’s establishing that Merlin revealing his magic to someone is a big deal, and it kind of is, so when we get cop-outs like these, we are dissatisfied, because Merlin revealing his magic is a positive thing, and we didn’t get this positive thing, so we are sad. And because this was hinted at, and we were already thinking of how it would look like, and we still do with the fics and stuff, we start to crave Merlin revealing his magic to those people that it was hinted at. To finally get that positive thing – that positive emotion.

This is probably more relevant when Lancelot comes by, since him being so casual about Merlin’s magic is yet more manipulation – it was only a possibility that Merlin revealing his magic is a positive, now it’s confirmed, and Lancelot becomes one of our favorite characters because of this positive thing attributed to him.

I can’t say it’s evil manipulation though, since first impressions do matter and every writer has this dilemma of how to introduce a character to associate some sort of emotion you want to invoke in people when they see them. Introductions are important, and we love or hate characters based on them, at least until learning more about them and then strengthening/changing our opinions of them. That’s why consistency is important, cause if it’s too far from the first impression, it feels odd and takes you out of the story and once you’re out of the story you start looking for more things to take you out and then you just start to hate that thing, and if someone has changed/strengthened their opinion because of one interaction, and then after that interaction the character doesn’t act like how that someone now perceives them, it also breaks the immersion and makes you question whether the writer knows what they’re doing.

I don’t… I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess… writing theory? Stuff I noticed while writing/analyzing stuff so I could write better? Uh… Anyway.)

THE CHAOS OF THE TRIO OF GWEN MERLIN AND MORGANA WOULD HAVE BEEN GOLDEN. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH TO DESTROY CAMELOT, OR UPROOT THE MONARCHY AND ESTABLISH A DEMOCRACY!

…

It would have been FUN.

(And I’m not gonna get into how the ‘fun’ factor of a show/movie/book contributes to its re-readability and overall positive opinion more than the ‘angst’ or ‘drama’ or ‘depressive’ factors do. That’s… Meh. It’s also something I noticed while writing/analyzing stuff so I could write better. I could get into it, but I just want to finish this episode and go to sleep.)

<_><_><_>

“I hope you didn’t come to her attention.”

“Doubt it.

*Glare*

“Well no one else seems to appreciate my skills! I just want someone to see me for who I am.”

43:52

Case in point…

It really hammers home this idea in the first few episodes. And it makes it incredibly easy to understand Merlin’s motivations in the later episodes.

He just wants to be himself.

<_><_><_>

The Cutie Awards!

(First Holders of an Award Receive an Extra 2 Points Towards Their Score)

(Also everyone can have every single award at a time, it depends on what they do in the episode. At the end of a season, the one who has the most points in one award will be the winner of that award. If everyone gets to be an Adorable Cutie in one ep, it’ll even out the odds ;))

Gaius – The Snarky Cutie (3)

Guinevere – The Adorable Cutie (3)

Tom – The Adorable Cutie (3)

Arthur – The True Sibling Cutie (3)

Morgana – The Scheming Cutie (3), The True Sibling Cutie (3)

Merlin – The Selfless Cutie(3), The Adorable Cutie(3)

<_><_><_>

The episode starts with Nimueh summoning her little afanc beast in an egg with a ton of her own marks on it just so everyone knows who did it. Not very smart. It ends with Gaius reiterating the same “you’re an idiot” thing to Merlin, when the real idiot is in fact Morgana, who didn’t hear that Merlin nearly shouted a whole spell in a compact cave with echo. Camelot is the home of the once and future dumbasses.

<_><_><_>

The Magic

The Monsters

#magic monsters and merthur #(merthur) #merlin #gwen #arthur #morgana #uther #1x03 #the afanc #nimueh #i understand everyones love for the characters! #i love them all too! #ill keep the rants out of these posts if i can #leave more space for merthur ;) #and i forgot to request this at first #but please to dispute me! #discuss stuff with me! #tell me im wrong! #or right! #ill love both! #if im right - yay! i had a good opinion :D #if im wrong - you do not understand how much i love clickity clacking away at my keyboard #i will type out essays with whole sources and cite shit and put in like 50 different gifs #...im only slightly insane cuz its late #i wanted to get this out before going to sleep so yall can read this and hopefully have a good morning/afternoon/evening #because of it #i hope i managed that at least :)

[clansayeed]

Bound by Choice ― II.iii. The Beginning of the End

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Trinity’s enemies grow in number.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Three nights before…

Old wood and old metal and bones older still take refuge from the bitter night rain.

In the shadows Cynbel waits, watches. The smith brings down his hammer against white-hot metal clang. clang. clang. Hunting like a different kind of predator and oh he has been so many that this… this he barely feels in the shift of his skin.

Steam erupts into the air, filled with the foul smell of a burning port where the worker submerges his latest creation beneath the water’s surface. Ignorant; blissfully ignorant.

“One would think after a long day’s toiling away, any opportunity for respite would be welcomed.”

Surprise catches in the mortal’s bones. Makes him release his work from the grasp of rusted tongs. He spins around, looks this way and that, but is no better than a blind man in his efforts.

“Who goes there?” Then, once the young man catches himself, “We are closed for the night. Please, return tomorrow at dawn.”

Does he think he plays at manhood? But this new age of innovation demands it of such boys, does it not. He might feel pity for them — if he could.

“Alas,” and when he replies his voice wraps around the small hovel; an embrace from Winter herself, “I cannot.”

Still the boy persists. “I insist, monsieur.”

“Who are you to insist of me?”

It’s advantageous; the hesitation that follows. Gives Cynbel a chance to emerge from his not-so-hidden refuge beside a basket of ores. He A shine catches his eye and he plucks it from the dark and misshapen pile, raises it against the light of the furnace to marvel at the gemstone’s glossy sheen.

He pockets it with little thought. A token of affection for his darling girl — so recently bored of diadems and jewelry and smitten with such… imperfections.

“Hey, that doesn’t bel—”

“Sssh…” The vampire presses a finger to his lips and the human goes quiet. Good, he likes them obedient.

This part of the workshop, back and away from the street where the front room displays the prides of masters and apprentices alike, requires a bit of meandering. But he’s an opportunistic man and takes what is offered for his own uses. Sways his hips with every movement slow, seductive.

Every good hunter knows his prey.

And indeed — when Cynbel comes to tower over the young man’s figure he can see each bead of sweat that rolls down his temples. Not just from the room’s stifling heat. Watches one bead along a shaven chin and glisten over the lump in his throat.

Here, and now in the light, things are different. Aren’t they?

Here every pump of the mortal’s racing heart threatens to deafen him in the best of ways. Here he is illuminated in fire’s heavenly glow; and recognized.

Cynbel lets his finger fall in unspoken permission. Watches as he’s taken in rapturously and in ways he has only seen between the pious and their places of worship… in ways he, too, has found rapture from his own religion.

When the human finally speaks it is rushed; exhaled, “I-worried-you-would-not-come…”

“For you,” and he weaves his fingers through locks of mousy hair, uses it as a master to his hound to pull him forward; breathes his honey-drenched words against peeling lips, “always.”

Their kiss is desperate, fervent with inevitability. Smoke-stained hands smeared over his jaw and Cynbel resists the urge to bite out his inexperienced tongue as a second gift for his beloved. Lets himself be defiled with the touches of a young man craven for affection and so so alone… unable to give it.

He would call this creature pitiful but even that would be too kind. That the mortal is too obsessed with his own gratification to realize every drop of passion is entirely from his own cup, that Cynbel’s cup could not be more barren in his presence, is nothing short of pathetic.

He pulls back as he always does. Stops those dirty wandering fingers as he always does. Kisses the day’s work from trembling knuckles as he always does.

“What kept you away?” The mortal whimpers.

And as he always does Cynbel lies through his teeth. “It matters not — that you stand before me now is more than enough.”

The mortal beams with pride. Though that is not the only vice Cynbel has been able to impart on him.

Everything in the smithy is exactly the same as he had left it a fortnight ago — well, almost.

He doesn’t have to pretend in this. The way he (none too) gently urges the wayward man aside to cross the room in several strides. Among the hammers and horseshoes the work done here is for the meager rank and file of Paris. Nothing as flashy as settings for gems or swords for battle. Cynbel knows this because his time has been well-spent these last months. Because the thing that separates the hunters who fail from the ones who survive is found in the little things.

Surveying the prey. Entering its nest. Staking its claim over the carcass before it has even been devoured.

Knowing all that he does — it begs the question of the mannequin—freshly carved—and the armor—freshly polished—settled snug upon it.

“Is this your work?”

He looks back and hears the skip in the mortal’s heart as he nods. “Indeed. Are you taken with it?”

“As taken as I am with you,” he croons in response; and knows the flush in living cheeks is not from the heat.

“That is why I am still here, actually,” he remembers his work then, and plucks the now solid metal from the bucket to wipe it dry with his sleeve. Small, in comparison to the rest of the pieces, but Cynbel takes it when it is offered; lets their touch linger in a promise he does not intend to keep.

The fastening is crude; its finer points interrupted by Cynbel’s arrival. But the sigil would be difficult not to recognize — especially for his kind. The halo around the center meant to be the sun. The fleur de lis enshrined within it in need of a little more dedication to be perfect.

More likely than not his little apprentice smith knows not what he is being asked to make. The holy war he is urging forward in his own way. A suspicion confirmed as Cynbel offers the work back and allows the mortal to continue to hold his hand.

“This is the only thing left. The master had just arranged contract with the Duke who ordered it when he fell ill,” —he explains this like Cynbel doesn’t know, like he didn’t ensure it— “and as his eldest apprentice the duty fell to me. I don’t know what overcame me, my love… it was as though the muses of old inspired my every movement.

“I missed you terribly, Claude, but I was fortunate there was this work to help me pass the time.”

Should he never hear the false name given for this ruse again it would be too soon.

Cynbel gestures to the armor, a “may I?” whispered reverent on his lips. With the human’s permission he steps closer, ghosts his touch over the refined metal. Imagines all the ways he will go about tearing it from whatever unfortunate soul it is given to limb from bloody, gory limb.

“You have outdone yourself.”

“Truly?”

Is the first of his praises not enough? Disgusting whelp. “Truly and more. I dare say whomever commissioned this will command any battlefield.”

Warm arms encircle his waist. The tack of the human’s sweating forehead presses against his doublet and already Cynbel begins practicing the apologies he will give to his beloveds upon his return. No doubt his Lord and Love will banish him from the apartment for the stench.

It is torture, pure and simple.

“May I confess something to you, Claude?”

Cynbel swallows back his bile. “Anything, always.” And he doesn’t need to see the human’s face to hear his pathetic ‘secret.’

“The Duke has sent word he will arrive in Paris tomorrow — and he hopes to see how the piece is coming along. I hope to convince him of my skill… perhaps even take some of the spoils for myself.”

Greed. One of the few things that make his presence bearable against all his shortcomings.

Cynbel turns in his arms; feigns as though he could never imagine such a scandal. “And what of your master? Will he not cast you out for the gall of it?”

“Perhaps he may not be around long enough to do such.”

“Don’t sound so hopeful.”

“Why not, when you inspire in me such a wonderful hope?”

Their second kiss is far more chaste, entirely so on part of the vampire. The disappointment on the other’s face is impossible to miss.

“Something the matter?”

“I would not have your well-earned pride ruined for it. Pay me no mind.”

“Claude,” Cynbel’s cheeks are taken in grimy mortal hands and he shivers, lets him take it as he wishes, “there is no joy I can bask in without you. Let me ease the weight on your chest. Please.”

Let it be known that he does not give in to the mortal’s whims. But with demons of the night leaping from shadow to shadow among the rafters, with every horrendous and degrading sentiment forced through his teeth; then and there Cynbel has had enough. Enough pretending, enough disgust.

Enough with feeling somehow unworthy of the love bestowed upon him when he returns to the arms of the ones with whom he truly belongs. Oh they placate him dutifully but he sees the twitch of a sensitive nose — a touch moved elsewhere at the last moment. These things are their prey; no better than chattel.

He was amusing at first. But…

“You have simply outlived your usefulness to me.” With no risk comes no reward they say but there is no risk here. He might be inclined to entertain it further if there was.

And like a child the human seems only to hear the kindly things. Continues to hold him, to adore him. To sicken him.

So he continues. “There is no risk, here. Only the continued debasement of the Golden Son, of the first of Valdemaras’ blood. If, when all the ages wither, I find in my soul no love of self then I must at least continue to love the part of me that is my God. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sure enough that rouses him. As if from a slumber. The masquerade finally coming to a close.

“I don’t understand.”

“Was I not speaking French?” Which could have been a possibility. As it is his muscles tense, predatory, in preparation of the first violent act that comes to mind.

“Yes, Claude, but — what you are saying makes little sense.”

So simpering, so pitiful that Cynbel actually stomachs the will to kiss him again. If only to whisper the insult to his lips; “I would expect nothing less of such a feeble mind.”

He’s seen heartbreak before. This is not it. This is a pantomime—what the inexperienced whelp believes heartbreak to be. Tries, so fleetingly, to wrench himself from Cynbel’s grasp but the charade is finally over. And with it the need to disguise his true strength.

“I had hoped you would have completed all of the armor in time, and maybe had I a stronger constitution one more night would have done the trick.” He looks back to the suit with true critique in his newfound eyes. Such a waste — talent like that in the hands of a worm. “But their sigil is clear enough that any member would recognize it as their own. I suppose there’s a poetic drama to the incomplete set.

“Isseya would know of such things better than I. She’s quite taken with the stage. She is the voice behind my tender affections towards you in fact.”

All the while the human tries to free himself to no avail. His workman’s hands are used to shaping manacles but have never been imprisoned by them after all.

Finally some sense comes about the man. All the telltale signs of a scream; flared nostrils, flushed pallor, the sour odor of fear near his knocking knees. Too late.

“HE—!”

Valdas would be proud how he silences any cry and practices for the upcoming ball in one swift movement. Pulling so hard he feels the joint come loose in a feeble shoulder and presses them close as lovers, back to front; molded against every vibrating measure of him and a hand tight over his lips.

“Ah ah ah…” He turns them both to face his work. Will give him that final gift of his life’s work burned behind his eyelids in the moments before death. “Don’t you want to know, my love? To understand?”

The fussy little fucker actually shakes his head. As though that will save him. As if he is held captive only until Cynbel has given him light where there was previously only darkness.

But that light is not for him. It belongs to them.

He belongs to them.

“If that is what you wish, fine. Throw away my gift, and your life with it.”

“Mmmph!”

“No no taking it back now. My mind is made up.”

“MMmnpm…” A needling heat pierces his skin. The sight of it makes the vampire laugh.

“A tear, really? And here I thought it was quite impossible for me to think less of you.”

He wrestles the human’s head to position; nearly breaks his neck several times in the process. Forces him to take in the splendor that will soon serve as a crafted casket for whatever heathen is suffered to wear it.

Unsympathetic, Cynbel places a final kiss to his temple. “Everything is in place now darling. I want you to know I could not have done it without you. Well—no—I just cannot help myself but lie to you it seems.” Another wave of muffled whimpers drowned in his laughter. “But you have made it easier on me. The Knights will collect your work and your corpse with it. One little life — that’s all it will take to earn their ire. Clever little hellions that they are… they’ll follow every crumb I’ve left. All. the way. to me.

“If my beloved is correct—if the Godmaker graces the evening with his vile presence—then I may finally have the opportunity to rid the world of two evils. Can you imagine? No longer looking over our shoulders… no longer fearing unholy wrath…” The very thought has him in near ecstasy. Actually—quite close to the real thing.

But thoughts of a life free of the Knights draw him, as they inevitably do, to a darker place.

To the cursed memories of Isseya prone, neck bare… to the taste of steel on his tongue and the delicious smell of roasted game—but he was the meal of bubbling blistering flesh and every tear he shed—she shed a fresh wave of agon—

“The events that will unfold will ensure their safety. No one will dare to take them from me ever again…” Cynbel surprises them both in that his voice breaks with unbridled fury, with withheld anguish.

“Lest they remember what befell the last to even try.”

Countless hours spend seducing the young smith who surely had a name that he hadn’t bothered to remember go to waste, then. Such a fragile neck in his grasp — the way it sounds when it snaps is like the first notes of a sonnet.

But there’s still one crucial crumb that needs leaving. One that will ensure the Holy Sacred Knights of the Rising Dawn know exactly who has courted them such.

One that will ensure they amass their armies beneath Paris in droves.

One fallen innocent is a message.

A slaughtered horde—that’s a warning.

He takes his leave of the workshop in much the same way as he entered; undetected by any soul living or dead. The mortal’s blood is tacky on his soaked hands the long walk back to their lodgings. He wants his lovers to taste of the wretched little cur so they know; so they understand.

Their sigil—the Brand of the Made-God Valdemaras—left to dry red on the breastplate. The unfinished clasp fastened neatly in the middle.

It was not unheard of for the vampires of Paris to think themselves important. Far more relevant than they actually are. Cynbel had gazed upon the half-masque of Serafine Dupont in the halls below and assumed her prestige nothing more than vanity; the hostess putting on airs for her guests.

But he’s a big enough man to admit when he’s wrong.

It takes a skill honed from centuries for the discipline she shows now. All of her remaining strength fixated on her injuries, on the effort to stand and set the bone to heal. A wound that would cripple a mortal—and even a younger vampire—rendered fruitless as muscle and flesh knit together in the tapestry of her dedication.

They watch the show of her impressed — but never intimidated. They will give credit where it is due.

With a vengeful cry she lunges forward and all credit is lost when her open palm meets his face.

Cynbel reaches up, feels the heat of the sting on his cheek with a shiver down his spine. Like all pain it fades too fast — but while there may be no more Knights in vain attempts to slay him Serafine still stands there and she looks positively craven for the excuse to strike again.

A look seen by more than just him. One that lands her pinned to a building exterior with splayed limbs and Valdas’ hand around her throat.

“Apologize.”

Yet even as his darling’s softer hands skirt feather-light touches over his healed skin Cynbel laughs. Laughs and laughs and adjusts his hair where the whore had sent it askew.

“No no, let her come for me. The Knights proved no real contest, maybe she’ll last a moment or two longer than they.”

“How dare you mock them,” seethes the woman with labored breaths; and because it isn’t the apology he asked for Valdas only tightens his grip, only strains her further in a wraithish rasp, “have you no grief for our brothers, our sisters who were slaughtered?!”

“They are no kin of ours.” Isseya answers for him. He snakes an arm around her waist and squeezes.

“Forgive her, my God,” he croons, would rather keep his lovers close than risk their already fractured good luck, “the poor thing seems to be under the impression we are on some equal standing.”

And he does, eventually, let her go. But only when it takes longer than a passing moment for the carvings of his nails at her neck to heal.

“A mistake she would do well not to make again.”

Serafine’s eyes are wild; a frightened animal that takes them in all at once. The way they were meant to be understood — the way they had always been understood. Her voiceless words aren’t worth the effort it would take to even try to comprehend her.

“The same blood runs through your veins that does mine, le tueur.” She snarls.

Isseya’s eyes narrow. “Not for long. Not with that foul tongue.”

“Now now, Iss’, let the little thing mourn.” Cynbel attempts to placate her with long, slow pets to her hair.

“She dare call you the killer when those sycophants live?”

She turns her face away from their accuser, tucked into the ridge of his shoulder and Cynbel holds her tighter for it. Knows that she, too, is plagued with memory. That if he coaxed her face up he would see the shine of unshed tears in her beautiful eyes.

“Less of them now,” he whispers, “thanks to us.” For now it is all he can offer her. And for now it is enough. They only have this thorn to deal with before he can comfort Isseya—both of his lovers—properly and as they deserve.

“And while the Knights posed an entertaining foe, I’ll admit there were far more of our kind in attendance tonight than I thought there would be. The cost should have dwarfed the rewards.”

“What rewards? What reward could there possibly be for the senseless murder of our kind?!”

“Victory over the Knights of course.”

The noise she makes; strangled and not quite fully alive before it died in her throat, only amuses the woman on his arm. Has her reaching out for their God like she wants to mock Serafine. And that may very well be the case.

Here is my salvation. Where is yours?

“How was this to be a victory? You speak like —”

“Like he tipped the scales of this war with a battlefield of his own choosing?” offers Valdas -- now comfortable against his surviving lovers. “A soldier ‘til the end, my golden boy.”

Here he thought the deaths of the Knights would not be the only victory this night — the next to come much later and wrapped in sheets of the finest imported silk. But here stands another much to his surprise, crept up out of the gutters like vermin.

It is with utter delight that Cynbel watches Serafine come to understand the truth of the matter; watches the horror and disgust twist upon her beautiful features somehow made better by all-consuming sorrow.

Fills him with an arousal usually reserved for carnage and lovemaking; but this works too.

“You— You… brought the Knights of the Dawn to the crypts?”

“I didn’t hold their hands, no, though I almost needed to. Fucking simpletons.”

The woman’s voice catches. “How?”

“The righteous are terribly predictable. A few bodies here, a few whispers there. If they think their cause to be one of justice they’re akin to a persistent plague.”

Serafine is less an annoyance now; more a festering wound. Really, must she take the fun out of it? As it is he has to reconcile with the Godmaker surviving — no doubt leagues from Paris by now with his Bloodqueen in tow. Can he not just have this?

“You orchestrated this… this culling?”

“Those who died did so because of their own weakness.”

“You willingly led our enemies straight to us!”

“And now they are an army fewer in number.”

The look he gives her — disinterest, boredom. If you seek to make me remorseful you seek in vain.

“Monsters,” Serafine finally chokes out; said to them all but Cynbel takes it just a tad personally, “monsters… the three of you. Les Trois Amants no more than old, cruel, mindless creatures of bloodshed.”

“Not quite,” Cynbel’s hand stays his Maker from attacking her, allows him to meet her gaze level and calm with a lover on each arm. United; permanent.

“Where they seek justice I gave vengeance. That I was able to lead them to us at all says all the things you wish to ignore—to put as blame upon my shoulders. The Knights would have eventually discovered the catacombs our refuge. If not tonight then tomorrow, or a fortnight from now. Would you rather that, mademoiselle? Would you rather they have had the time to plan, to cut off completely all means of escape?

“You should be thanking me that the living outnumber the dead. And that you may count yourself among them.” And with his victory inevitably wilted Cynbel has had enough of her accusations. “But yes — I would watch every vampire alive burn at the hands of the Knights themselves so long as my beloveds are by my side.”

With the last of her strength the vampiress snarls with fangs bared. Such a pitiful portrait she paints of herself; he knows it, all three of them do. It doesn’t even warrant Valdas’ reaction and isn’t that saying something.

“You will see justice at the hands of your enemies.”

“Four centuries and the bastards have yet to do any lasting damage.” An amusing thought, too.

“The Holy Knights are not your only enemy today.”

He can see it, too. A hotter, blinding flame burning inside of her far stronger than the ones that ravage underneath their feet. Give it a century or two, he thinks, and it will be snuffed out with the rest.

Two sets of hands try to keep him close but he gently coaxes them aside. Approaches the tempest before him with her wild eyes and wild hair and finds satisfaction in the flinch of her when his fingertips graze her silken chin.

“My victory is—has always been—inevitable, ma chérie. And I look forward to the prestige it will bring.”

#bloodbound #choices fanfiction #serafine dupont #playchoices #bloodbound fanfiction #oc: cynbel #oc: valdas #oc: isseya #oblv: bound by choice #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[fallenqueen2]

HIJACK!!! When the Guardians turn their back on Jack for something that wasn't even his fault and don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN on Easter, he turns his back on them too and joins Pitch after all. It's a cold, dark world and Jack rules from his palace in Antarctica. With the Guardians gone, it's up to other spirits to fight. Hiccup became the spirit-guard of dragons after his death and seeks out Jack, teaching him to love again! Soft, tender love-making, touch-starved Jack

X-Rated stuff ahead :)

Jack moaned softly from his place sitting on the edge of the bed that was covered in furs. Hiccup was standing between his legs, calloused hands gently cupping the ice spirit’s cheeks as he kissed him softly yet deeply. Jack clung to the other spirit’s belt loops with trembling fingers as he fought back the urge to wrap himself around the other.

“Milord? Was that alright?” Hiccup asked when their kiss broke and Jack had to blink a few times to clear his head and reply properly.

“Y-Yes, it was perfectly acceptable.” Jack cleared his throat and released Hiccup’s belt loops to settle on the bed beside himself.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Hiccup didn’t move from his place between Jack’s legs and Jack allowed it unsure as to why. Maybe it was because this spirit was handsome; maybe because it had been so long since he had been seen and touched by someone, anyone that wasn’t himself and maybe it was because since the moment Hiccup had crashed in front of his ice palace in Antarctica Jack had felt something for the brunet.

“For what?” Jack found himself saying and he fought back the urge to pull Hiccup back down for another kiss.

“For saving me when Toothless and I got separated, for being so kind to me. For not being the monster Pitch Black made you out to be.” Hiccup listed off, rubbing his thumb over the arc of Jack’s cheek soothingly.

“I was just so angry when he found me,” Jack found himself saying, but Hiccup just smiled kindly like he always did when around Jack and Jack had begun to covet that smile and he had begun to covet Hiccup in his entirety.

“You’re not angry anymore, are you? You’re just lonely and that can drive people to do dark things, I understand.” Hiccup’s voice was soothing and Jack found himself falling head first into the other’s words and he felt accepted in a way he had yearned for.

“Not with you here, I’m myself when you’re with me. I’m no longer a monster, I’m just Jack Frost.” Jack said honestly as he braved it and reached up to wrap his arms around Hiccup’s waist.

“You are not a monster, you never were. Just misunderstood, but I understand you perfectly. I know how lonely I was before I met Toothless and I want to make sure you’re never lonely again.” Hiccup swore and Jack found himself being kissed again, but a bit more fiercely than before like Hiccup was sealing his promise with a kiss.

“Show me, show me what it can be when I’m no longer lonely,” Jack ordered when their kiss broke and Hiccup’s eyes darkened.

“Yes Milord, with pleasure.” Hiccup all but purred and Jack found himself shivering enough through he was immune to the cold. Jack gasp, grasping Hiccup’s shoulders when the spirit guard of Dragons lifted him easily up off the bed’s edge and settled both of them on the mountain of pillows at the head. Jack moaned into the searing kiss that Hiccup gave him and ran his fingers through the Viking spirit’s long hair, tugging on the small braids that were woven in here and there.

“Hiccup,” Jack breathed out, head tipping back a Hiccup cupped the back of his head as he began to lay sucking kisses down the length of Jack’s neck. Pink marks blooming over Jack’s pale skin and Jack felt a warmth spread through his limbs in an unfamiliar, but welcoming way.

“We don’t need these anymore do we, Milord?” Hiccup’s voice was husky as he tugged at the hem of Jack’s black, frost-coated sweatshirt.

“No, we don’t.” Jack agreed as he lifted his arms up to allow Hiccup to pull his sweatshirt off of his torso. Jack let out a startled moan as he clung to Hiccup’s soft hair as the Viking spirit kissed down his chest and lightly sucked at the winter spirit’s soft pink nipples.

“Hiccup, this needs to come off.” Jack moaned unable to stop himself as his fingers scrambled at Hiccup’s shirt. Hiccup chuckled against his chest and leaned up to strip off his own shirt, smiling when he caught Jack staring at him with a light pink flush covering his pale cheeks.  

“Better Milord?” Hiccup’s eyes glinted as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jack’s brown pants and Jack tossed his arms above his head in silent approval. Hiccup just smiled and yanked down the winter spirit’s pants, Jack’s half hard cock being released from its confines.  

“This is much better,” Hiccup decided as he locked eyes with Jack as he shifted down lower until he was on his stomach between Jack’s thighs and hot breath washing over Jack’s erection.

“Let me take care of you Milord,” Hiccup purred as he caressed Jack’s snow-white thighs, parting them wider as he kissed down the right thigh with a bit of teeth just to make the marks darker.

“Hiccup, ohhh!” Jack moaned, digging his fingers into Hiccup’s hair unable to stop himself as his hips jerked up when Hiccup dragged his tongue down the length of his cock.

“You’re so big Milord,” Hiccup crooned making Jack flush at the praise before his head was thrown back against the pillows, arousal shooting through him as Hiccup’s mouth closed around the head of his cock.

Jack gave a broken moan as he thrust up into Hiccup’s blindingly hot mouth. Hiccup took the thrust and hummed around Jack’s cock, slowly taking more and more of the other spirit until his nose bumped against Jack’s pubic bone. Hiccup pulled back until just the tip of Jack’s cock was in between his lips and he moved forward again, swallowing Jack back down to the root.

Jack moaned loudly, eyes rolling up into his skull as Hiccup sucked hard at his cock and sensations flew through his body. He hadn’t been touched in so long and every spot Hiccup touched him burned in the best way possible. His fingers on his thighs burned like a brand and he felt his orgasm coiling in his gut, his cock throbbing in Hiccup’s warm mouth.

“Hiccup, I’m going to come soon!” Jack warned, one hand releasing Hiccup’s hair to drape his forearm over his eyes as he gasped for breath, unused to being reduced to such a state.

“That’s the idea, Milord,” Hiccup murmured and swallowed Jack back down and cupped the other’s balls with his right hand, fondling them and squeezing them as he swallowed around Jack’s cock. Jack let out a scream, frost spilling from between his fingers as his control slipped as his orgasm ripped through his body making him see colors behind his closed eyelids.

Hiccup quickly swallowed down Jack’s release before pulling off the now softening length and he gathered the remains of the spirits cum on his fingers.

“Does that feel good Milord? Do you want to feel something else amazing?” Hiccup’s voice lowered down to a husky tone and Jack peered up at him as he dropped his arm down above his head.

“Amazing? How can anything top that?” Jack asked in confusion as he looked at Hiccup with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes.

“Let me show you, Milord,” Hiccup smiled as he pressed his cum-coated fingers against Jack’s hole, earning a surprised squeak from the winter spirit.

“Relax Milord and trust me.” Hiccup soothed as he rubbed circles over Jack’s hole, smearing Jack’s cum there before easing the tip of his finger into Jack.

“Oh!” Jack gasped, it was not painful but it was different. Hiccup took one of Jack’s nipples into his mouth and sucked at it distractingly as he worked his slender finger into Jack’s tight hole, pumping in and out to work his rim open. Jack tugged at Hiccup’s hair until the Viking spirit left his nipple alone and Jack tugged him into an open-mouthed kiss.

Hiccup kissed Jack soundly and pressed a second finger into the winter spirit. Jack cried into Hiccup’s mouth when sparks exploded behind his eyes and his cock twitched to life again when Hiccup’s fingers rubbed against a place inside of him.

“That’s why it will feel amazing Milord,” Hiccup whispered when their kiss broke and Jack nodded mutely before another cry was pulled from him when Hiccup added a third finger and pushed all three of them against his prostate.

“Are you ready for me Milord?” Hiccup questioned as he twisted his fingers and Jack clung to his shoulders as he gasped.

“Yes, yes, YES!” Jack all but sobbed as Hiccup teased his prostate repeatedly and with his eyes closed he missed the triumphant smile that crossed Hiccup’s lips briefly as he tugged his fingers free of Jack’s clinging rim.

“If you hold your thighs like this, it will feel even better Milord.” Hiccup eased Jack’s own hands to hold his own legs so they were spread open, showing every part of him to Hiccup.

“Like this?” Jack wet his lips as he blushed at the way he felt so exposed but this was Hiccup and he was distracted by the way Hiccup was pulling off his own pants and his cock was freed. It was hard up against his stomach and already leaking pre-cum to show Hiccup’s own arousal. Hiccup licked his palm and worked the salvia over the length of his cock before slotted himself between Jack’s legs.

“Just like that Milord,” Hiccup praised as he pressed the head of his cock into Jack, the winter spirit shuddered and gasped when Hiccup’s cock popped past the tight ring of muscles before his head fall back and mouth went slack as Hiccup slipped deeper into him.

“You’re so tight and hot around me Milord, you’re so good.” Hiccup panted out and Jack let out a high-pitched keen of unfiltered pleasure as he was filled with Hiccup.

“Hiccup, oh you feel, ohhhh.” Jack’s thought was cut off when Hiccup began to rock in and out of him, cock brushing over Jack’s prostate on every forward rock.

“What was that Milord?” Hiccup asked curiously as he watched as his cock slipped in and out of Jack’s body and Jack’s fingers clenching around his own shaking thighs.

“Faster!” Jack ordered before he cried out when Hiccup thrust rather hard into him, hitting against his prostate harshly.

“Milord,” Hiccup moaned out as he ducked his face into the crook of Jack’s neck.

“Jack, call me by my name please.” Jack panted out, hooking his legs over Hiccup’s strong thighs and fingers tangled in Hiccup’s hair again.

“Jack, my Jack.” Hiccup panted as he kept thrusting into Jack who was clinging tightly to him.

“Ohhhh!” Jack cried out, his second orgasm rushing through him when Hiccup hit against his prostate again and wrapped his hand around Jack’s cock. Hiccup let out a loud moan that was slightly muffled by Jack’s neck as he too came, spilling himself into Jack’s body.

“Amazing, totally amazing.” Jack panted as the two laid together, still locked together intimately and Jack was playing with Hiccup’s braids absently.

“I told you so Jack, but we have plenty of time for me to show you all the different ways being together can be amazing,” Hiccup promised as he propped himself up and laid kisses over Jack’s face.

“Plenty of time,” Jack agreed, not planning on letting Hiccup out of his sight for a long time.  

#rise of the guardians #how to train your dragon #Hijack #Hiccup/Jack Frost #smut #18+ #takaraphoenix

[parttwoactuallywrites]

If you're still taking requests for bad things happen bingo, how about Virgil x Mel + natural disaster? - theportalwedeserve

@theportalwedeserve 

ahslkdjfhlHLKJASHDLFKJH I was considering reposting that bingo card so people might consider requesting, but this came at a really good time!! Thanks a million for asking!!!!

Some quick notes before I start - This is my first shot at writing both Virgil AND Mel, and honestly? I have no idea how I did, so feedback from those who actually have written these guys/know more about them then I do/ etc. is always appreciated! Sorry if it’s not quite up to snuff! Secondary sorry that this took so long, I wrote this during my study-breaks for my midterms (which start this Thursday and I’m ahsdkfjhsjf). This was also originally gonna be WAY shorter but I’m a mess lmao. 

This fic is best enjoyed listening to Gymnopedie No. 1 and Cherche La Rose on loop. Sorry this wasn’t angstier, I wanted to write some comfy stuff ‘cause it’s cold out. 

The two of them were always regarded as an oddball couple, woodsy folk who lived a mile or so out of town in a little log-cabin they’d built themselves with the extra hands of whoever wanted to help - which was, evidently, the entirety of the little community of Laurel River.

It made sense, at least to Virgil. Though he couldn’t help but think of himself as the most “other” person there - Hah, I’m calling myself a person, now. - he seemed to fit right in. Hard workers with practical genius and warmth he’d never seen down in the salt mines. He supposed you had to be a certain kind of person to work at Aperture, and those types didn’t have a predisposition to warmth, now did they?

Speaking of, the warmth was only really metaphorical. The weather hadn’t gotten above freezing in weeks, the days got shorter and shorter, and with no real work that could get done with the ground and the river frozen, the town and its inhabitants got rather sleepy.

A cold, cold wind blew over a mostly-empty town square as Virgil stepped into the little general store for the groceries.

“Hey, Lil,” Virgil said, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

“Hello to you too, Virgil! How’s the weather out there?” Lily asked, without turning around. She was an older woman, soft spoken and gentle. She made lovely bouquets in the summer and spring, with a garden to kill or die for.

“Bad,” He said, pulling his neatly folded list out of his pocket, “Cold, windy, cloudy.”

“Oh dear,” She said, still re-organizing the things behind the counter, “Well that sounds about right. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, a big blizzard. First of the season.”

Blizzard.

Virgil knew what those were, knew that they were big screw-off storms with strong wind and snow that made it so you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. He knew that blizzards took down trees and power lines and covered up solar panels in a foot-and-a-half of snow. Sounded like a recipe for losing power, or worse, their house getting destroyed.

He frowned, one by one grabbing the things off the shelves and putting them into a canvas bag he’d gotten when he first came into town. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, brussels sprouts, carrots, leek, butternut squash, ‘any herbs you can get your hands on’…

He put the worry out of his mind. The clearing the cabin sat in was far enough away that a few trees coming down wouldn’t be a terrible issue. The house kept the heat well and he’d be willing to trudge a ways into the woods for more firewood if they lost power and ran out. They could camp out in the living room and snuggle to stay warm, or maybe…

Well, that assumed either of them would be willing to get their clothes off. Unlikely, given the predicted circumstances, but a nice thought nonetheless.

Virgil set his things down on the front counter one by one, lost in his unlikely-but-still-nice-thoughts about the days to come, just the two of them, snowed in together.

“Name the kid after me,” Lily said with a pleasant smile.

“Wha- Good lord, Lil!”

She laughed, took the money from the counter and handed him back a few bucks in change. “Seriously, you kids be safe, and don’t you hesitate to come to town if something happens.”

“We’ll be sure of it. Thanks, Lily.” He slowly loaded all his things into his bag.

“Any time, Virgil. Have a nice evening, honey.”

He pushed the door open, waving as he walked out. “You too!”

And then once more he was out in the cold. A gust of wind blew in his face, stinging his eyes and making them water. That might be the only thing he missed about being a core, his fantastic inability to feel most external stimuli, and with that, his inability to feel the cold stiffening his fingers, making him regret not wearing his gloves.

It was gonna be a long trudge home.

Virgil came home a few minutes out from frostbite as the sun was starting to set. He huffed as he gently set down the bag on the floor by the front door, kicked off his shoes carelessly, and wondered how long it’d take before his ears stopped burning and feeling returned to his face.

The smell of bread wafted through their small home, coupled by hot cocoa floating in beside it.

“Making something, Mel?”

She hummed. “You were taking a mighty long time out there,” She said, moving through the kitchen slowly, leisurely. “Thought it might be nice to come home to something hot to drink.”

“You’re my savior, you know that, right?”

Mel giggled. “You’ve said so on more than one occasion.” She set two cups down on their modest kitchen table, filling them with the cocoa. “What’s the news from in town?”

“We’ve got a blizzard coming in,” He said, walking towards her “That’ll be your first snow in over a hundred years!”

“It’ll be your first snow ever.” She handed him a cup of cocoa and leaned back against the kitchen counter to drink the other herself.

He took it in both hands, taking a long sip, letting the sweet drink warm him. “Mmm… This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“But personality cores are based on, well… Personalities. They were all people, once, including me,” Virgil said, “Don’t remember any of it, but I bet you I saw snow back then.”

“I still don’t get how you’re supposed to pour a person into a box, and then have that box… Do things,” She said, flatly.

“Mel, we own a computer.”

“Yeah, and I like it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it. Last I checked, TV’s were the size of our oven and only played blurry and in black and white. It’s just after the apocalypse, and we got color and crystal-clear pictures.”

Virgil shrugged. “Fair point.”

The storm came early that morning, before first light of dawn and well before either of them woke. Virgil vaguely remembered sleepily arguing for Mel to stay in bed, to sleep another hour or two with him, before being given a pillow to hug instead as she went about her morning without him. She only actually woke him up some time later, gently shaking him awake to a dark bedroom.

“Power’s out, Virgil,” Mel said, “Virgil, wake the hell up.”

“Huh?”

“The power’s-” Mel was cut off by a clap of thunder that rattled through the small house, startling Virgil fully awake.

“What the fuck-” Virgil shot up in bed, grabbing Mel’s hands almost instinctively for support.

“Looks like it’s a thundersnow,” Mel said thoughtfully.

“A what?”

Another clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Virgil yelped in surprise, this time, earning him a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mel. “You alright?”

“Fine!” He squeaked, “Just fine.”

“Well, the power’s out,” She said, “So if we’re gonna make breakfast, it’ll have to be over the fireplace.”

“Do you need a hand with that?” He kicked his legs over the edge of bed, planting his feet on the ground and stretching up.

“I can get the fire set up and all that-” Mel cringed as his back cracked.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem, not a problem,” She said, dismissively. “Could you make that stew of yours, though?”

Oh. The stew. He’d made it over the fireplace, once or twice before, with decent success. Not that it was particularly difficult to make, more or less a “sear some stuff and then leave it alone for three hours” type of situation.

He wanted to say no, anyways. Last time he did it, he burned his wrist on the pot and he still had a little scar from it. It was dangerous and difficult to cook over the fireplace, but Mel looked so hopeful and she loved that stew…

“Yeah, alright,” He said, “I can do that.”

Mel sweeped him up into a hug, pressing kisses to his face indiscriminately. “You’re the best,” She said, after landing one right on his eyelid, “Easily the best.”

“That’s high praise coming from my savior.”

When he actually got a chance to look outside, it was a little astonishing. He could hear the wind whistling almost constantly, or the odd clap of thunder in the distance, but he had no idea just how nasty it was, out there.

The world was covered in a haze of white, he couldn’t see the trees of the backwoods or the river that ran through the area they designated as their backyard. It was almost spooky, like the house itself had been isolated from the rest of the world.

He turned his attention back to the cutting board, back to cutting the vegetables they had on hand. Mel was curled up on the couch in their modest living room, warm and cozy by the fire she’d just started, reading something by the soft light of the window.

Yeah, burning his arm again would be worth it, if it came to that. Definitely. Mel worked too hard, too long, too sustained almost constantly. She had no ‘off’ switch, though, he supposed, that is what got them out of Aperture and into town in the first place.

Virgil dropped the vegetables into the almost cauldron-like cooking pot, letting them sizzle satisfyingly. The browned meat sat in a little bowl next to the pot, along with all the stock anyone could ever need. He absentmindedly stirred things around, more aware of Mel’s contented humming than he was his own hands.

Luckily, he didn’t burn himself, this time.

As if on auto-pilot, he put everything left in the pot, one by one, with the exception of the random assortment of root vegetables he’d throw in towards the end. He poured in the stock, covered the pot, and turned to Mel, who opened her blanket and patted the spot next to her.

“Kept your seat warm for you.” She said, grinning.

“Think I could stand to take a nap?”

“I’ll wake you up in two hours,” She said, “Stew smells great, by the way.”

“Thanks, love,” Virgil said, grabbing an extra blanket and curling himself up next to her, falling asleep in her lap.

Virgil woke up to the smell of stew and the sound of bowls being shifted around in the kitchen.

“Mel?” He called to nowhere in particular. Did I wake up in time to add the parsnip?

“You didn’t wake up, I handled the rest of it,” She said, almost reading his mind, “Stew’s done, if you’re hungry.” She handed him a bowl, as he sat up, complete with a piece of toast with butter. She dug in without waiting, putting a spoonful in her mouth and sighing with pleasure. “Christ, this is good…”

He looked down into his bowl, contemplative.

The world was scary, wasn’t it? Terrifying. There was a blizzard out there that could’ve probably killed him, back when he was a core, that would’ve definitely killed him if he was out there, now.

But he wasn’t.

He was warm and safe, in his own home, just him and Mel. Larger than that, they came off the heels of a war, and they were better for it. Would Laurel River have helped them build their home, been so kind as to open their doors for them before the war?

He didn’t think so. From what Mel said about the world, back then, they’d have had white picket fences up and would’ve judged ‘em both for how they dressed and acted, when things were ‘improper’ - whatever that meant. 

He couldn’t help but thank the maker that he was alive, really alive, then. In his home, with the love of his life, safe and warm and eating stew.

He ripped off a small piece of bread and dunked it into the stew, taking his first bite before it went cold. 

She was right, it was pretty good.

#portal #portal stories: mel #mel/virgil #i don't know their ship name #so anyone who does #lemme know please!! #bad things happen bingo #parttwoactuallywrites #virmel

[royal-writer]

A Garden Flourishes

Yes a lot of this was absolutely inspired by prompts and ideas from Ammy I won’t deny that. But not all of it. Good it feels so good to write Essamon again.

Essätha twisted her mouth up and down with confusion. The paper in her hands crinkled as she looked over the sketchy design; turning it over to the left and the right. The drawing looked like any other fungus to her. A bulbous cape shape that drooped low with a thick steam.

“I don’t see what the big deal about this thing is. It looks like any mushroom to me.”

To her left, Amon cleared his throat softly. Her eyes shifted over, watching as he adjusted the rolls of his sleeves. Her eyes naturally drifted over up to his face, finding the neutral restraint in his expression. His level-headed gaze made sweeping gestures over the ground, and up to her where the sunlight struck his features perfectly.

“Addison’s blood are saprophyte that have a lot of health benefits, actually,” explained the nobleman. “The scribble the man offered us is hardly accurate; on average they have very flat caps and more girth on the stalk. Their tops will be a brilliant red tapering into a pinkish hue, with a brownish-pink shoot.”

She gave a quiet snort in response. “Yeah, I heard him going on about the potion. I’m just hoping I pick the right kind of red mushroom, and not something poisonous.”

A brief glimmer of hesitation came upon the Briarton Lord. His lips formed a thin line as he fidgeted with the edges of his cloak.

“If you’re feeling uncertain, perhaps let me take a look before grabbing something. The only known specimen similar would be a fly agaric, but their caps are speckled with white spores that is distinctly different. Still there are toxic or hallucinogenic properties to many fungus, and if you feel at all uneasy, I might be able to identify… Why are you looking at me like that?”

Realizing that she was staring with her mouth slightly agape, Essätha snapped her jaw shut and offered a polite grin. She drank in the vision of his flustered appearance. A deep burgundy color arising over his face and the rounded edges of his black pupils as he shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze.

Trying to withhold her giggles, Essie murmured gently, “I just find it fascinating how broad your mind is. You seem to know a little about everything. I appreciate the offer, I’m sure I’ll need it.”

Amon gave a gruff note in response. His hand twisted into his collar, loosening it from his throat as he muttered: “I wasn’t always considered so gifted.”

“Well no one is born with intelligence, you earn it. Besides,” her own cheeks grew rosy as she swallowed nervously, “I think you’re wonderful- I m-mean it’s wonderful or I suppose, you’d have to be wonderful to, to know so much uhm… It’s an endearing quality, that’s all.”

A lope-sided grin greeted her. A splash of unease settled into a steady appearance of warmth and calm. He tentatively reached out to her, placing a hand upon one of hers that held to the edges of the parchment.

“I appreciate that, Essätha, thank you. You’re not disappointed to be working mushroom hunting with a half-wit un-masculine scholar?”

“Firstly, you are no half-wit scholar. Secondly, no I am not. I consider myself very lucky. I get both a brilliant huntsman and well-read man at my side. I’ll be both safe, and in good conversation. Thirdly, if anyone were to taunt your manhood simply for understanding plant-life, they should be ashamed. I think it’s a both a useful trait to avoid deadly plant-life and adorable, because you can distinguish specimens and grow your own gardens and crops. I’m fairly sure I got the best partner in this search. I appreciate the brawn as much as the brain.”

The rough calluses on Amon’s hand folded gently over her own. There was such care in his grasp that her heart leaped and stammered against his touch. His thumb pattered a swirl against the back of her hand. It stalled her of air; looking up into the magnificent gallant traits of the handsome Lord’s complex. Her fingers craved to stroke through the depths of his black hair and comb the sections that fell over his his face to better gaze upon all the imperial shaping of his features.

A twinkle glistened in his gaze from the dappled sunlight. Much of his blush began to dissipate, leaving only a wash of faded red behind.

“You think too high of me. A man with too much time and his head stuck in volumes of books is not so impressive.”

“Or perhaps you think too low of yourself,” she countered with a cocky smile.

When he passed her a doubtful glimpse, the Yuan-ti added on firmly: “Not all choose to learn, or to better their understanding of the world and its horizons, but you have. You work your mind, as you do your body. Both are important. I think it says a lot that you tended to feeding all portions of yourself. It rounds out your characters. You use both to win the battle. You use both to care for and look after the best outcomes for those you protect. Learning might not seem impressive, but what you do with it can be. It’s amazing the knowledge you hold. You’re very brilliant m’lord; I’d trust your insight, instinct, and intelligence any day with great appreciation.”

Chuckling quietly, Amon brought her hand closer. His words came through a soft exhale as he praised: “It doesn’t matter what anyone says to counteract you, does it? You always have a thousand well-placed phrases to dispute them.”

“There is no dispute, m’lord, I am simply correct and I know this.”

“You most certainly are, Essie,” he agreed, guiding her hand further up. “My apologies for doubting you.”

If her heart had fluttered before, it absolutely danced now. A feather-light kiss brushed against her knuckles as Amon bowed his head in an apologetic display. She swallowed; finding it difficult against the hammering of her pulse beating so rapidly through her veins.

As her hand was released, Essie brought it nervously back to the paper. She began nervously folding the creased edges together once more. It was a poor attempt to hide her shakiness. The very least it did was give her an excuse not to stare directly towards him. How just a small peek at him made her head dizzy, her knees weak and wanting to collapse. A light feeling entered her chest and by the gods, the angel’s sang a chore about him.

Men should not be allowed to be so pretty. Amon most certainly should not be allowed so many miraculous qualities. It made being around him nearly impossible. Where did the wonderful qualities about him end? He was sharp, inventive, kind, hard-working, trustworthy, fearless, observant, funny, charming…

“By any chance, did you ever hear the tale of how Addison’s blood came to be?”

Tucking the folded scrap into her pocket, Essätha gave a shake of her head as she dared to glance back up to the gentleman.

“I’m afraid I do not, m’lord Amon.”

For all the amusement that had been in his appearance when he’d kissed upon her hand, the slate had been wiped clean. He stared at her for a few breathes, his gaze searching. A fraction of awe began to dawn on him, and the nobleman appeared to shake it down before he answered.

“They say that when the world was new, Pelor aided in the creation of humans. He created a woman so lovely, the gods themselves fought over her. Pelor, too, became deeply infatuated with her. A feud began the likes of which had never existed. Those on the planet and those in the heavens; men and women were entranced by the pure essence of this woman’s divine beauty.”

“Eventually, the gods tried to ascend her into their heavenly realm,” he continued; his voice dropping a few levels. “However Vecna; a wizard who obtained godhood, snapped his fingers and destroyed her. Some will swear he was jealous, some stories say he despised her looks, and other tales are written to say it was just his madman quality to try burning the joy of all people to the ground; and if it meant taking the life of the maiden to cause all the suffer, so he would do so.”

“And with her death,” Amon sighed, “the woman’s… remains fell upon the earth; painting the earth crimson with her blood and what was left of her body. From the woman; Addison’s, remains the earth fed upon her and birthed a new plant. The mushroom has a healing property either in honor of her, or because of her for she was as beautiful on the inside, as she was on the out.”

As Amon grew silent, she stared past him with her nose slightly wrinkled. All of that, just to gain a woman’s favor? What did she think of all of this? What a burden, she must have thought to have carried when not just one, but multiple realms, deities, and people were hurtling themselves into fights for your hand.

“That sounds… awful. That poor woman.”

“It is a shame,” he agreed softly. “I’m sure she had much more to give the world than just her appearance.”

She nodded slowly in response, looking away. This whole experience now felt ten times more dreadful. If one were to believe such a legend, they were harvesting a plant that was in creation to a completely unnecessary and horrible death. It made the simple looking mushroom seem both sinister and depressing now.

Essätha hoped the woman; if she was real, could forgive them using the fungus born from her unfortunate demise to create healing elixirs.

“Gods must have grown sightless, wiser in their control, or must have a pact not to meddle in mortal’s lives anymore,” Amon whispered, stepping past her. “I couldn’t imagine the endless battles they’d have in your name for a chance at your hand. It would be a catastrophe… A simple man wouldn’t stand a chance.”

A startled rush of head bloomed suddenly in her face. With a choking sound for air, she studied Amon’s backside as he continued walking ahead without her, checking the leaf litter and along tree bases as he went.

By the gods, what did he mean? Was that some sort of admittance? A joke? A compliment but in mean’s of other men? What was the point of that?

What if she didn’t want a god, she wanted to argue. What if I don’t want a god? What if all she wanted; all I wanted, was one good, honest, ‘simple’ man? One with a good heart. One that, one could hope, would have plenty of love to share…

Her lips shook, and she reached up to nervously fiddle with the bangs hanging to frame the outline shape of her face. Unwilling to voice her questions, she rummaged low on the banks of the forest floor, hoping for signs of a reddish growth.

From the corner of her eye, she could make out Amon kneeling low. His head turned slightly in her direction and he stared. No shame, no remorse, just a quiet unspoken interest lingering in the air.

She turned her face away to continue half-haphazardly studying the undergrowth, before risking her face bursting into flames beneath the handsome Lord’s hopeful regard of longing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was frustrating just to be sitting around all day. There was nothing ‘relaxing’ about wasting time at some patrician’s estate, waiting around to see if the cultists would strike again. They should be out there doing something. With as many people as they had in their group, at least half of them could be out trying to gather evidence and reports on the whereabouts of these villains while the other half sat on their areses.

The only good that came out of all of this was that she was given the opportunity to be alone. With a lush cultivation of plant-life out back, Essätha found plenty of space to wander in silence.

There were rows of colorful buds and blooms. Flowers that reached for the sky, and others slunk low. Various textures and designs, so many things to fill the flowerbeds to the point they spilled into the walkway. It was a spacious acre of greenery, with no shrub or plant standing over four or five feet. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be able to hide well out here from sight, but it didn’t let her guard drop.

She greeted the agriculturists with a respectful ‘hello’ as she passed, eyeing them a bit while they worked. Her mind held to each face best she could. She hoped none of these people to be the help of some nasty creed, but thought best to try memorizing their features just in case.

A few rows away, Essie spotted the estate owner’s young son admiring the garden. His upturned face lit with joy as he caught her eye, waving an ecstatic hand her way.

The sun’s rays played off his cream garments and cool umber skintone wonderfully. As Essätha turned the corners of the garden, she made note not of his shining eyes staring with anticipation upon her, but upon the shadowy figure hidden close to the princely boy’s side.

“Miss Essätha-”

“Master Lucas,” she greeted with a nod and smile. Her head inclined slightly to the right, glancing over the figure that stood beside him.

The other nobleman was slightly hunkered down, examining the plants. His face showed some distaste for the root system of one of the small hedges, which appeared to be entangled and popping out of the soil as another nearby brush tried to ensnare it’s position in the ground. The slightest breeze ruffled the sections of hair that hung lower against his face, which he pushed aside with an absent hand.

Her smile shone in her words as Essätha mouthed quietly, “M’lord Amon.”

The nobleman grunted, leaning back on his heels as he raised a squinty-eyed look up to her.

“Ah. Yes, your compatriot Amon thought it would be wise to have some sort of security if I was to leave the building.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Essätha stated with a smile. “Lord Amon’s simply looking out for you. Wouldn’t want someone snatching you up now, would we?”

As she spoke, the Yuan-ti woman stepped around the duke. The man appeared to deflate to the lack of recognition offered his way as she offered out a hand to Amon. He offered a broad smile in response, grasping upon her palm with a gentle grip as she helped hoist him back up.

“Thank you, Essätha.”

“My pleasure, m’lord.”

It took Amon a minute to gradually let go of her hand. Essie brought it nervously up to her face, pushing the hair out of her face that the small gusts tried to blind her with. From beneath her lashes, she looked up shyly into the quirky handsome smile the Briarton Lord offered her.

“Ahem,” Lucas coughed, taking hold of her arm gently. “I now have you here, Essätha. I feel quite safe in your presence. Perhaps we could enjoy the privacy of the garden together?”

She snorted, giving a short airy laugh to the man’s suggestion. Beside her, Amon gave a narrow-eyed glance to the side and shifted his jaw unpleasantly.

“I appreciate the praise, but I’m not the safest person to be with. If you want security, you won’t get much better than Amon. He’s a true fighter. I’m simply a parlor trick of a woman, nothing more.”

Lucas opened his mouth to respond, but Amon headed the charge first as he cut in: “Essätha, do not tell this man lies. You are a skilled sorceress. Your casting abilities and spells take on an art form. There is a raw power to your magic that cannot be denied or argued.”

Her cheeks blushed faintly. Fumbling for her words, she turned her face from him to Lucas as the later finally put his own voice to action.

“You see? Amon agrees you are capable. We should be safe alone.”

Exhaling a breath, Essätha passed the young man a smile. Her eyebrows pulled down in a sign of uncertainty as he ran his hand over her arm, dropping it away from her to beckon with his fingers for her to take his hand.

“Well, I feel much safer with Lord Amon around…”

This time she couldn’t miss the shade of disappointment on the young heir’s face. It was small and brief, before he controlled his features masterfully. His pain closed up, and Essätha felt immediately bewildered and ashamed. She’d only responded with honesty. Of course she wanted Amon around, why would anyone want to discourage his presence?

She gave a small gasp as Amon lightly placed his hand upon her shoulder. He moved to retract it, but she reached back to place her hand over top of his.

A glimpse over her shoulder, and the eclipse over her heart fell away. The heat in her face burned with an inferno as she smiled, meeting the sea of blue she found herself lost swiftly in.

Lucas made a sound in the back of his throat, and their hands dropped away, the moment lost. It left a strange feeling of cold in her soul as their eyes tore awkwardly apart to stare separate ways.

“Miss Essätha, if I may-”

She peered back at the aristocrat as he spoke up, spotting him plucking a flower from upon a large leafy stalk. He’d barely raised it towards her, when Amon’s arm shot out to block her frame.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the Emerald Expanse Lord snapped. “Essätha, don’t accept that flower.”

The younger nobleman knitted his eyebrows together. He opened his mouth to explain, but Amon stepped forward, gently coaxing her back.

“It was a gift-”

“That is foxglove, you dolt,” Amon fumed. “Handling the plant alone can drop your heart-rate. What are you trying to do, hurt her?”

“I- I didn’t know-”

“You don’t know what’s in your own garden? Pelor boy, don’t touch anything then.”

Infuriated, the lad ground his teeth together. He dropped the bloom, taking a step forward and straightening his posture as he hissed: “It was an honest mistake!”

Amon curled his lip. Essätha gazed between the two of them, dumbstruck by their explosive fury. Each of them were rigid and tense like a bowstring ready to pop, or let lose an arsenal of arrows.

“What would you give to her next? Hooker’s lips? Clitoria?”

“Amon!” Essätha gasped. Part of her was astonished by his venom, and the other part shocked to hear such vulgar names. There couldn’t possibly be plants honestly named that…

“It sounds like you’d be well experienced in such names,” the man coolly responded. He adjusted the layers of his clothing to try appearing nonplus to the attack on his smarts. It didn’t settle well, with his flared nostrils and slits for eyes.

“A true gardener would know a vast variety of plants, and what is in his garden. Like how you shouldn’t have camellia in the same flowerbed as periwinkles like you do; they need different soil types.”

Swatting Amon lightly on the shoulder, Essie passed an accusing look up at him. He seemed to lower his haunches; so to speak, and relaxed his posture. Though he didn’t appear any more or less pleased, he looked off to the side with a huff.

Sighing, she dropped her head politely to the adjacent man as she murmured, “Master Lucas, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s not you who should be sorry, miss Essätha.”

“You’re right,” Amon agreed quietly. “It should be the one offering potentially dangerous plants in a poor attempt at courting.”

“I will certainly never try to do miss Essätha any intended harm,” Lucas shot back in a gravely low tone. “What would you have given her? A rose? Commoner ideals.”

Hoping the two bickering nobles would unruffle their feathers when parted, Essie reached out and tugged upon Amon’s wrist. He begrudgingly budged, but did not remove his glare from upon Lucas as they stepped around him.

“Roses are traditional,” Amon grumbled softly. “There’s nothing wrong with roses.”

“Typical-”

“Although,” he drawled, grounding his feet. For a horrid moment, the Yuan-ti woman thought for sure they were going to gripe into another confrontational argument but as she tossed a cross look up to the Lord, she realized his sights were still solely upon her. An endearing smile, and awaiting pupils moving over her face the moment she looked up to him.

“I would search years for a kadupul plant, for her.”

A curious silence followed his words. Finally, Lucas resented with an irate tone to ask the question both he and Essie had been thinking.

“What is a kadupul plant?”

Smugly, Amon raised his voice as he explained: “A plant that flowers only every four or five years. It blooms only at night, and by day the petals wilt and cascade to the ground. Pick it, and the delicate petals fall apart. It’s a very rare and hardly witnessed flower; priceless, you might say. Much like Essätha herself.”

She knew her mouth was hanging open, so she clasped a hand over it to try hiding her shock. It didn’t, of course. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked out into the garden. The whole world seemed strangely brighter than it had just a few moments ago.

Who could respond to something like that? Gods she must look stupid. She fidgeted her hands in front of herself with a timid energy. That was the compliment that overruled all compliments; said with clear sincerity and warmth. But if that’s how he thought of her, then…

“I’m going back inside,” Lucas bitterly spoke up. “Enjoy the garden view.”

“I’ll definitely be enjoying the view,” Amon murmured.

Despite knowing exactly where the cliché statement was going to lead, Essätha focused her peripherals on the frame of a proper, dignified man at her side. Sure enough, the Illiad Patriarch had his face turned towards her.

As the sound of stomping feet carried down the path, she jolted as Amon’s arm moved beside her. It created a hooked impression close to his side, as he waited with a patient, hopeful expression.

“Would you care to enjoy the garden with me?”

She cast a shy gaze up to Amon while linking her arm through his. Her cheeks puffed up; reaching out to give him a gentle shove with her other hand.

“That wasn’t very nice, m’lord.”

“He was going to give you a poisonous flower; was I supposed to just let him?”

“I meant everything after the lethal foxy flower thing you said,” she stated, clutching her fingers to the bend of his elbow.

He gave a rough exhale, glancing up to the sky as his free hand reached up to scratch his beard. In the very next breath, he responded: “Foxglove. It was foxglove… And yes, I suppose you’re right. I was just frustrated. I have a feeling these people picked random plants they thought were nice, and threw them together without knowing the standards they require to raise. I’m not sure if their gardeners are aware of what they’re handling. Some of these could cause someone or a pet to become very ill. It’s irresponsible.”

“Well if that’s how you feel, maybe we should browse while we walk so you can mark things incorrect?” she teased.

He gave a quiet chuckle at that, slowly nodding his head as though the thought appealed to him.

She thought of asking him about his other hostilities, but bit her tongue. Or if he’d meant what he said, about the rare couple-year blooming flower.

But it all seemed so surreal. Maybe it was just the spur of the moment thought. Maybe he was just trying to show off his field of knowledge (which, truth be told, she could stroke the man’s ego for hours on given the chance). It felt like the moment had hardly existed, even just mere seconds ago.

With an encouraging hand, she felt she was floating down the walkway as Amon began to point out different plants to her. All the while, sneaking out facts; or voicing his unhappiness to their treatment or how their colors were off due to their environment.

Essätha just smiled, nodding along to his comments or asking her questions. Even the ones that made her feel stupid, that he answered without so much as a snicker. Calm and understanding; present in the moment as she was.

By the Gods, if it didn’t make her want him even more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It didn’t matter anymore.

They all knew.

Everyone knew her for the failure she was. What she had done, where she’d come from, what she was capable of. The string of messes left behind. The people who trusted her and found themselves torn to pieces. By Hell’s Gates even she was surprised; hearing her father was alive and existed out there somewhere. There was someone out there who should have; could have been there for her her whole life and found it easier to be absent.

They had built up a trust in her. Friendship. Family. She even thought; she almost believed, that maybe, there was something…

A soft rapping echoed against the door.

Essätha stilled, burying her face further into the comfort of her pillows and blankets. Given enough time, they would go away. Their persistence would stop.

“Essätha? Could you open the door, please?”

A muffled groan echoed in her throat. Grabbing a fistful of the sheets, Essie yanked them partially up over her head.

There was a sigh outside the door. She could hear the quiet thud of Lord Amon’s boots as he paced up and down the hall.

They never left.

He paced up and down the hall relentlessly. Sometimes there was silence, as he came to a halt before the door. Then the pacing would begin again, and he would sigh once more.

She could imagine his hand pushing through his hair with frustration. The illuminated candle light from the hall moving over his eyes. The shift and grind in his jawline. The way he would breath out heavily and rub a hand over his face, against his whiskers, and stare at the door.

The hours of the night grew longer. Still she could hear his feet dragging.

Tilting her head, she drew out her voice in a hiss: “Go to your room.”

Amon’s pacing came to a halt, and a whispering voice pressed to the door: “After I’ve spoken to you. Essätha, please… You never gave up on me. I’m not giving up on you.”

Her lip wobbled. Tucking her face into the nearest pillow, she let out a quiet sob. Every muscle strained. Grabbing for the edges of the cushion, she howled with grief into the mattress.

All that remained of her pride was a wounded animal, licking scars that healed in disjointed fractures. Too many years of swallowing her hollow desolation. All she ever did was try to keep the past beneath her; try to keep the taint of her touch from breaking anything or anyone else. She’d finally began to feel like the strings that controlled her no longer existed.

It no longer felt so. Spiraling out of control; down the drain through the hole into a void.

As the shuffling began again in the hall, Essätha gradually clawed her way to the edge of the bed. Her face was dry; her eyes not red with tears that she could not find. But her insides ached, and as she got to her feet and crept for the door, she shook. She hesitated.

She didn’t recall grabbing the doorknob, but it did indeed open into the dimly-lit hall with candlewax lanterns turned low.

Amon stood perfectly silhouetted into the doorframe. His head angled down; staring into her shrank form as she looked upon the floor.

“I have nothing to say-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Essätha,” the nobleman retorted swiftly. “You were defending yourself.”

She grabbed for the edge of the door, but Amon placed his hand against it. It moved as she pulled it forward; but slowly. He would let her shut him out, if she wanted. But he would continue to wait outside her door, with shadows under his eyes, until he had gotten it out.

“And now I’m trying to defend all of you from me,” she snarled. “So if you would just please-”

“I’m not afraid of you, Essie.”

There was reassurance in his voice. A soft lull; certain and gentle. She didn’t shy away from his touch as he took hold of her hand, removing it from the door to run his fingers along tenderly.

She snorted. “You should never trust a snake, m’lord.”

“That is like saying you should not trust an Illiad, because of the misconceptions of a father.”

“There is a difference. Snakes bite. They strike. They can be poison-”

“No snakes strikes without giving a warning,” he countered, stepping closer. “And you’re no one’s poison. You were alone with the world standing against your survival. The man was trying to kill you, Essätha, you were defending yourself.”

“What about the man at the dock, or the boy at the river, or the boy in the fire-”

“Those were accidents; you had no intentions of hurting anyone. It’s not your nature. It’s not because of what you are. I’ve never met someone who would do anything to save a life. You think you’re indifferent to it all, or that some part of you is wrong for what happened but you’ve been robbed of a life you should have had. By Pelor’s Light, Essätha, you are not what people have written you out to be.”

The weathered hands that held to her own let her go. She plunged into icy waves; drowning for a brief moment before the warmth returned. Carefully holding to her face, Amon gently encouraged her to lift her head up to meet his eyes.

“Look at me, Essie. Do I look afraid to you?”

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, shaking her head.

A small smile formed on his face. The broad shape of his rough fingertips circled beneath her wet eyes. Incomprehensibly soft; it seemed to make the tears spill over more as her breath labored.

“You are just a flower, hiding your light deep in your roots. You didn’t know how you would bloom; you could not see as you did, chasing the sun even on your darkest days that as you opened up to the world how beautiful you came to be.”

“You have a kind and inspiring heart of beauty, Essätha,” Amon murmured as he wiped away tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry the world has mistreated it so. You deserve much more then what it handed you; much, much more. But I promise: I’m not here to hurt you. I won’t turn away from you. I am here for you, whenever you want me, always.”

In the ugliest, most distrustful, frightened part of her mind a voice whispered that he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t possibly mean it. No one wanted to stay. No one wanted her. No one wanted the trouble, the baggage, the constant looks over the shoulder. No one was capable of sticking it out. She couldn’t blame them for it either; she was a mess. Fueled with quiet insecurities, a big mouth, enough sass and pride in all the strangest places to drive anyone crazy.

Yet even the most doubtful sounds in the back of her mind doubted themselves. There was an earnest look in the worry carved in the sculpture of his gorgeous face. He stroked away her tears with cautious fingertips; as if touching her too roughly would bring her pain. Such honest intentions in his words; such devote affection in the graze of his hands.

She crumbled. She cracked.

All the words she wanted to hear; all the understanding she prayed to have. None of it she expected of him. None of it she dared to want far or wide; only wishing her mother was there, with her innocent sense of self and ability to see good and love in all things. That had been her unattainable dream. Never guessing the reality of it could ever come from anyone else.

When she thought she would collapse, Amon let go of her face to hold her in close. When there was no more strength in her legs, and she hung limp in his arms and her face pressed into his shoulder, he cradled her. The strength in his arms never wavering. The softness of his breath tucked against her ear as he whispered soft words of encouragement she could only just barely make out as she wept against him.

It felt like releasing a lifetime of guilt and shame. Which, essentially, is exactly what it was.

And with it, an empty place inside of her began to fill with something entirely different and overwhelming all at once. A seedling erupting from it’s shell all at once; showered in tears and warmth and light so that it flourished all at once.

It was thrilling. It was scary. It was overwhelming and felt like utterly too much for her heart to contain.

In that moment, she knew she loved him far more then she could have ever imagined. It had been there, hiding, growing, hidden beneath the crushing weight of buried doubts. When the rocks were cracked, the life took off across vast parts of her heart and soul until there was no greater feeling to reside so safe and snug in his arms.

How ever was she going to live without him, she no longer knew. And that petrified her more than any monster, villain, or lonely night ever could.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

From the relative safety of the balcony, Essätha looked down upon the courtyard with an easy smile. The sun was bright and high in the sky, and the days were finally growing warm enough to take off the spring cloak and let the gusts of warmer air caress over bare shoulders. The air smelled of fresh life, and an unfortunate aroma of manure.

Though the later was an unappealing scent, it wasn’t going to last long. A week at most once they got the spread and weathering going, along with some cedar chips mixed in to try keeping out unwanted pests.

The very best part about it was, of course, the view. Placing her arms upon the banter, Essie leered down at Amon’s shirtless frame as his spade hit the ground. He’d remove a pile of dirt, pitch it aside, and continue the pattern until he was satisfied with the depth. A wonderful dappling of sweat, just barely visible in the light.

Every God could come crawling out from their cosmos and realm to shame her, and she’d simply shrug. What could you do? With a body like that, her Lord have mercy. It was an enticing view, and she had a wonderful view from up here The muscles in his back shifting, the firmness of his arms, the ripple in his shoulders, the taut physic, the slight tummy, his chest hair, dear Gods.

Her tongue darted out as she let out a hum of appreciation, pressing her legs restlessly together. The only way to get a better look was to have him front and center. She’d caress her hands all over him; nice and slow, leisurely. He’d try to touch her and she would tut him gently, pushing his hands away and like the gentleman he was, he would obediently let her have her fun with him. He’d groan her name; raspily begging to stroke her, to kiss her, anything. And she’d smile sweetly; trying to ignore the hunger that gnawed at her lust, and press her lips over every inch of him until they were both panting and-

While swiping a handkerchief across his forehead, Amon looked up to catch her staring from her perch on the second level. His smile was all teeth; almost feral.

“Care to come down here and lend a hand, my lady?”

She didn’t know what was hotter: her face, or the friction between her legs.

“That depends,” she called back down, “Will I need to remove articles of clothing?”

A maiden down below tending to another flowerbed visibly jumped, and her choked laughter rose up into the sky.

To his credit, Amon didn’t seem the very least bit discouraged or humiliated. If anything, he seemed to only grin broader as he hitched the shovel over his shoulder in a pose that was something you’d expect out of a brothel to entice lady’s.

“Unnecessary, but preferred,” he announced loudly.

She stuck her tongue out in his direction, a goofy grin on her face. Ridiculous man. He was going to need a proper bath when he was all said and done; glistening with sweat, smelling like the garden, and grass, and of dirty man…

Just to tease him; knowing she still had a brassiere beneath her thin shirt, Essie lifted her arms and tore the garment off to toss it down upon his smiling face.

“I’ll be right down!”

Essätha had barely turned when Amon ripped the apparel from his face, crying back up to her, “I think you forgot to take off the most important part!”

“No I didn’t!” she laughed, shaking her head.

He was utterly, totally, and completely ridiculous.

She wouldn’t have the love of her life any other way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first blooms of their renovated garden were beginning to come in. The colors spanned the spectrum's of the rainbow. Most were common; the reds, pinks, whites, and yellows of hardy, well-known species. Others were more rare; blues and purples here or there.

With a pout, Essie stared the spot where she had planted her own flowering plant. The plot was small; a test space she’d picked out just for her. She’d done all the research herself, refusing any and all help Amon tried to offer.

She wanted to prove to herself, and everyone else, that she was more then capable of gardening all by herself.

No matter how much she stared at the green leaves bursting forth now from the ground, it did not grow any faster. It seemed to taunt her now. She had began life, but could she continue to make it thrive?

A shadow fell over her, and her small sprout.

“Still staring at it?”

“Yessss,” she grumbled, reaching up without looking to paw at her husband. “Now step aside, m’lord, it needs sun!”

Amon gave a quiet chuckle, scooting close to her side. She leaned away from the hand brushing along the curls against the side of her head until it became a distraction. Her eyes darted up to him as she tried to pull away, but he lightly grasped upon her shoulder.

“Just a second.”

Drawing her eyes up at an angle, Essätha could make out the frills of an elaborate deep maroon carnation. It rested in the edge of her vision as the Illiad heir slipped the steam neatly behind her ear, so that the radiant peek bloom neatly displayed for all the world to see.

Much like the blossom, her face changed a rich shade of red.

“Are you using me to show off your perfectly pruned flowers now?” she teased.

Amon gave a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. He leaned in, skimming his nose against hers playfully as she giggled.

“The flower is an accent for you, my darling Essätha, not the other way around,” he promised, placing a kiss upon the tip of her nose.

“Could have fooled me,” she sighed, casting a dejected look down to the dirt.

Coaxing hands reached up, softly cupping her cheeks to bring her focus back to the shining gaze of his dark eyes.

“Give it time, my dear. All things start small. It’ll grow.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better, or have you been sneaking out here tending to my zinnia when I’m not around?”

“Neither. Well, the first perhaps a little. But I believe in you, Essie. Give it a chance. It’ll prosper before you know it.”

Her eyes softened gradually. Much like their love and their lives, it might be a struggle, but if she nurtured it just right, it would grow.

She had all the tools at her disposal. The sun, the ground, daily watering, and Amon’s help if all else failed. He’d taught her much on what to check for overwatering; how to properly make a drain and what was too loose or too firmly packed around the root systems. She’d learned about replanting and transplanting; of what to examine in the colors of the leaves and so much more.

She’d spent days reaching each and every volume she could find on basic gardening, and then found the one plant she was sure she could handle. No help, just what she learned and read up on.

This zinnia would live, dammit. She was going to make sure it lived.

“You are so sweet,” Essätha purred, reaching up to take hold of her beloved husband’s face. She pet along the shape of his sideburns, dragging his face down to softly press her lips to his.

An appreciative growl greeted her. Before she knew what was going on, Amon bent lower at his knees and placed a hand to the back of hers, knocking her off her feet with a yelp and into his arms.

“For goodness sake, m’lord-”

“No more plant watching,” he half-scolded half-laughed. “It’s past lunch time. You should get a bite before we our guests arrive for the land negotiations.”

“Uggghhhh why did you have to remind me,” she wailed with forced desperation, throwing her head back dramatically as the deep, humbling laugh she cherished pressed into her side. A roll of laughter followed his own from her; peels and giggles and little snorts as Amon rubbed his face into the bend of her neck, tickling her with his beard as he kissed her sensitive skin.

The little plant stood a little straighter as they walked away; reaching for the sun as it seemed to sway to the sound of laughter.

Or perhaps, simply to the light breeze. Who was to say?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Essätha placed the watering can back into the small cellar space with a faint smile on her face. She reached up, wiping her brow of specks of sweat as she gave a satisfied sigh. Hands on her hips, dirt beneath her fingernails, and smears now against her forehead where she had just wiped.

Her zinnia was growing larger every day now. Maybe it was going to actually survive, after all. But it didn’t appear to be budding yet.

Still, she held on to hope. If she could come back from her hellish life, and her tiny seedling had made it through an unexpected frost, then it could take on anything!

She’d barely turned to step out through the heavy wooden door back into the courtyard when a soft whining captured her attention. Her eyes turned down, spotting the droopy muzzle and beady dark eyes staring up at her.

Hanging from Caesar’s maw was a row of trimmed freesia, in a multitude of arranged colors.

“Oh gods,” she whispered in a hush, bending down to take the mouthful from Caesar’s maw. They were coated with strings of drool and some of the steams crushed; unsalvageable in a vase unless someone cut more off.

There were further freesia however, all tucked beneath the mastiff’s collar. As she reached to pull them out, Caesar finally gave in to a full-body shake, sending both flowers and petals flying in every direction.

Essätha raised her eyes with her tenderly raised bouquet in hand, spotting Amon staring just on the other side of the courtyard with an eager little smile.

Flushing pink beneath his gaze, she brought the blossoms to her face to sniff the faint fragrance as Caesar snuffled her side.

There was no question in her mind if it was possible to love someone more and more each and every day. Even when she was sure she couldn’t possibly love him any more; that there was no more room from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, she always found room to wiggle in a little more. Because with each new dawn and dusk, she found something more to love; a little more to appreciate, a new swelling sensation in her chest that made all things feel at ease and warm and happy.

Of all the parts and pieces of her heart, soul and life, he was the part she loved the very most.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A shriek loud enough to wake the dead pierced the air. She frolicked, she jumped, she danced with eager joy. Her heart, how it sung! There was nothing more delightful than this, the sweet success of victory!

The door that lead into the cellar opened, and a wide-eyed Amon stared out into the yard.

“Essie? What in Pelor’s name- I thought someone was hurt-”

“Amon Amon Amon Amon Amon, look!” Essätha squealed, bounding across the lawn to dash over to him. He leaned back, taken by surprise as she grasped his hand and dragged him out from the manor. When he no longer resisted her tugs, she spun and danced with his hand lightly holding to hers, with his eyebrows drawn together with uncertainty.

Pulling her heart’s desire over, she stood before the clustered plant filled with buds. Only, one had opened to form the first zinnia flower. It’s magnificent petals soared upward in a lush shade of violet.

“Look!” she cheered, grasping his hands. “Look I did it! I did it! It’s alive and it’s blooming I made it grow! I did that all by myself!”

Just as quickly, she let go of his hands to twirl in a circle. Her fists balled up into fists, punching the air with success as she giggled and chanted a series of ‘yes’s with eagerness.

Lord Amon tore his gaze from her, to the flower, and back again. His heart tightened reflexively to her joy; so merry and filled with life. He found himself impulsively smiling to her own happiness as it reflected in his own.

“You’ve raised Green Bean and more then half a dozen people,” he teased, reaching out for her hand. “This is what excites you?”

“To be fair, you were all technically adults already,” Essie laughed; following his train of thought. “And this is different. I’ve never gardened before! It’s amazing. I took a tiny seed, and I made a big plant!”

A hearty laugh escaped the Lord of the Emerald Expanse. Her glee was infectious. The things that made her so overjoyed were at times, unexpected. But there was nothing better than to see her explode into such radiant energy. When happiness colored her, it changed everything. The atmosphere of the world seemed to change. Colors grew brighter. Paintings that seemed to leer were suddenly smiling. Plants grew taller; the sun shone brighter, the clouds disappeared and all things, by Pelor’s name, all things felt possible and right in life.

Slipping his fingertips between her own, Amon joined her in swinging around in wide, dramatic circles. He listened to her laughter; pure and sweet and innocent. Delighted so completely by something such as a flowering plant.

He couldn’t be more proud of her.

He couldn’t be more happy for her. With her. Along side her.

As her energy tapered and her steps grew wobbly and dizzy, his beautiful Essie still giggled as he pulled her in close to wrap his arms around her. Dragging in the faded scent of soap in her black hair as he rested his chin upon her, and kissed the crown of her head.

He rocked her back and forth in the grass. Soft laughter still bursting forth randomly from her lungs; nested into his ribcage as she buried her face against him.

For a brief moment, his eyes locked upon the zinnia, and then back down to the strong, gentle, beautiful woman in his arms. His heart swelled enormously in his chest, pressing another kiss upon her forehead.

“Congratulations, my love. You did a marvelous job.”

“I utilized what you taught me,” she muffled into his shirt. “I treated it with sunshine, clean water, respect, dignity, and a lot of tender, love, and care.”

Amon chuckled faintly at that, rubbing his palms up and down the length of her spine. Turning his head slightly, he rested his cheek against her, humming softly as his arms grew tighter just as his throat did.

Silly woman, he scoffed to himself. Didn’t she knew she was the one who taught him many of those things in the first place? There would be no Lord Amon without his Lady Essätha. She was gardening before she was aware of it. Replanting and rejuvenating his ashen fields with a flurry of life, light, and endless pollinating butterflies and bumblebees thriving within his soul with each new love he found for her; making a perfect field of flora just for the two of them. A perfect world, all their own.

There was nothing else he wanted out of life. This wondrous love; his sweet angel, and the happiness they grew, together.

#eci artz #essamon ship #Essie rw #amon illiad #have you ever been so starved for content? me neither

[caroline-min-max]

Broken Dreams

Caroline and the twins each share the optimism their younger selves once had for their futures.

The twins realized they hadn’t seen Caroline around the house much that day. There was still some awkwardness with adjusting to living with her. Min and Max hated to be alone, usually always at one another’s side, but weren’t sure if it was bothering Caroline how they were extending that to her as well. They’d begun craving her company, enjoying the chance to spend more time with their friend Caroline White rather than their boss the White Rabbit.

It was her house. If she wanted some time herself they shouldn’t bother her. She was a bit of a recluse, only going out more since they made it enjoyable for her. Being an introvert meant that she had moments when she got burned out too. In unison they crossed their arms in silent pondering at the end of the hallway.

As they were mulling it over their thoughts were broken when they heard the creaking of Caroline’s bedroom door opening. They heard her grunt before she exited, coming their way with a box. They started to greet her, stopping in the middle of it when they noticed her eyes seemed puffy and red. Had she been crying?

“Are you OK, Miss White?” Max asked, he and Min both concerned.

“Yes!” Caroline assured, although her smile seemed forced. “I was just doing some house cleaning and my eyes got a little irritated. It’s nothing!”

“Can we help?” Min asked. “You can ask us anytime!”

“I appreciate that but I’ve always preferred to at least try and do things for myself.” Besides, they did more than enough for her already. She was starting to feel like a spoiled princess. “All I have to do is take this out to the trash and I’m done.”

“I’ll do that!” Min reached forward to grab the box.

“No!” Caroline answered harshly, twisting her body away from his outstretched hands. “I can handle it!”

“That box looks heavy,” Max noticed. Caroline seemed to be taking the weight of it with her legs, her knees buckling under the weight while her thin arms seemed to be straining.  

With the time she spent conversing with them the weight became far too much. Caroline couldn’t help dropping the box with a grimace. It landed on its side, the contents spilling out onto the floor for the twins to see.

“We’ll pick it up!” both twins said as they knelt down on the ground. 

“You dunderheads have done enough!” Caroline shouted angrily as she got down on her knees, startling them. She’d never once insulted or yelled at them like that before.

The twins froze, looking at each other in alarm while Caroline hurriedly tried to scoop the box’s contents and put them back in the box. While Caroline was silently scolding herself for not making two trips to the trash like she should have their eyes wandered down to look at what had wound up in front of them.

“This is an award?” Max knew he should keep his mouth shut but couldn’t help picking up a framed certificate that praised Caroline for her excellent grades. Nearby he also saw a framed golden tassel for maintaining a high GPA.

“And textbooks…” Min picked up one that was titled Animal Health and Nutrition.

“Did it even occur to you two that there was a reason I didn’t want either of you touching this box?” Caroline snapped, her eyes narrowed, before snatching the items out of the twins’ hands. “The two of you are so nosy I knew you’d peek if I gave it to you and now look what you made me do!”

“We’re sorry, Miss White…” Max apologized timidly as he sat back, his voice soft. 

“Real sorry,” Min added, shrinking away from Caroline. 

Guilt tore at the twins’ insides. They’d only wanted to help, to find ways to earn their keep everyday. They didn’t want Caroline to regret her decision to keep them around for even a moment but in the end they’d made a major blunder. They could only hope she wouldn’t react as violently as Two Face.

Caroline looked up at the twins and realized they mean it; remorse was plain as day on their identical faces. They could barely hold eye contact because they felt so ashamed and to see such sad frowns instead of their usually toothy smiles made her heart ache.

“It’s… It’s alright,” Caroline replied calmly after a deep breath. They hadn’t meant her any harm. “I apologize for getting so angry with you. I absolutely shouldn’t have called you a name.”“We’ve been called worse,” Min replied with a smile, getting a small one out of Caroline in return.

“Why do you want to throw all this away?” Max dared to ask, confused. These seemed like things to be proud of.

Nosey as ever… Caroline couldn’t help but find some comfort in the familiarity. 

“It’s all just a painful reminder of how all my hard work never meant a thing.” She’d clung onto them long enough; now the sight of them only stung. “I studied so hard… I did everything I could… Do you think anyone would give me a scholarship, though?” She didn’t wait for the twins to answer. “No! Those dumb jocks who got straight Ds got a free ride for throwing a ball around but no one was interested in helping me because, as a woman, I’d ‘eventually get married, have children, and stay at home’,” she deepened her voice in an attempt to imitate the man who’d said it to her. “They thought it was a wasted investment.”

“That isn’t right!” Min exclaimed, both he and Max outraged. 

Caroline shrugged. “It’s just the way the world is… It seemed like men were always in control of my success or failure. A man stole my tuition money. A man lied to me about what I was getting myself into when I started working at that club. a man turned me into a rabbit. Then after that it was Mr. Dent and his friend Mr. Wayne who tried to help me before yet another man tried to take advantage of me when he found out about my condition. I got so damn sick of it…” She rested her clenched fists on her knees. “I decided that I’d become independent anyway I could, even if it stealing and killing.” It was surprisingly easy to commit such crimes when you were disconnected from the world and everyone in it. She sighed before looking back and forth between the twins. “What did you two want to be when you grew up? I can’t imagine you wanted this life either.”

Now Caroline had been the one to hit a raw nerve. Min and Max winced like they were in pain. They tended to speak and ask questions without thinking so they didn’t realize there was a chance that Caroline would flip the situation around on them. They supposed it wouldn’t be right not to answer…

“We wanted to be performers,” Min answered after a long pause. “A stage show where we sang, danced, and told a joke here and there.”

“We thought maybe we could even get a part in a movie…” Max laughed, dejected. They were so young and stupid… “We were told we had faces for radio,” he admitted bitterly.

“But you listen to the… Oh!” Caroline placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes radiating pity. “That’s awful!”

The twins frowned. There was nothing they could do about it. Their voices had generated interest they weren’t the complete ‘Teen Heartthrob’ package talent agents were looking for. While they may have matured and developed muscles from working out, back then they were fairly scrawny and unappealing. They didn’t have enough land a contract and had to find another way to live once their funds started running out.

“I had no idea…” Now Caroline felt badly. “Well, I…” She hesitated. She thought about abandoning what she was about to say but the twins seemed they were expecting, HOPING, for her to say something comforting. “This isn’t much consolation, but…” Why was this so hard? Was it because she couldn’t think of a way to not sound silly? That she was worried the twins wouldn’t think it was good enough? “I’d like to be your biggest fan. Happiness usually doesn’t last long for me but I always am whenever I hear the two of you sing. Having both of you around has really brightened up my days. I think if you’d been given a chance people would’ve loved to come see you and I’m not just saying that.” She felt her heart speed up.

Those radiant smiles Caroline adored so much spread across Min and Max’s faces. They cheered up instantly. If this was the route their lives had to take in order to meet someone like her than maybe things hadn’t turned out that bad for them.

“That means a lot to us, Miss White,” Max replied, Min nodding in agreement.

“We’ve always thought you’re a really swell gal,” Min added.

“You’re stronger than you think you are. I couldn’t have gone on without Min but you went through everything all alone. We think you deserve a break so can’t you let us pitch in more? It doesn’t mean you’re weak to have us help you around the house.”

Max’s words resonated with Caroline. He had a point and couldn’t have worded it more perfectly. It erased the resentment of depending on two men yet again and made her realize that this time around it was completely different.

“Well… Then I will leave this to you two after all,” Caroline decided. There was no harm now that they’d seen everything and heard her thoughts on it. Before she got up she shocked both twins when she quickly gave each of them a quick kiss on the forehead. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re both adorable.” With that she was on her feet and walking away, planning on taking a long relaxing bath.

The twins blushed, bashful grins on their faces. With how giddy they both felt they took a moment before gathering up the mess on the floor and returning it into the box.

“Are we really gonna throw this stuff away?” Max asked. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to discard what Caroline had worked so hard for.

“We’re keeping it,” Min decided in an instant.

“Huh?” Max hadn’t quite expected that. “But if Caroline finds out…”

She‘d likely be pretty upset with them. Min knew that. “We’ll hide it in our room awhile,” he decided after a bit of thinking.

Caroline respected their privacy so she stayed out of the room she’d let them have. It was a safe bet that she’d never find out they hadn’t disposed of her things. Should the day ever come where voiced regret upon thinking these items were long gone they’d gladly return the box to her. Until then it had a safe place in the back of their closet.

[sofeyhh]

BTS Private Boarding School Au

Part 10 / ?

“I’m so proud of our boy,” Jin’s father boasts to Pierre Morten: the surgeon that has worked on every house wife in town, be it a nose job or a breast implant, Cooper Stocker: the son who’s taking over his father’s oil company and Mick Buratto: the president of Hawkings University - an ivy league school.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Buratto is the one whom his father was interested in. He was playing out all his cards, buttering up Jin’s reputation in school.

“Jin has managed to hold the title of President of the school body for 4 years now. He’s involved in almost half the clubs in school, won a gold medal in this Spring’s debate competition and even has his own magazines published and distributed in school as a side project. And I've recently got news from the Director himself that Jin actually clinched the top spot for the examinations.

His father pushed him forward, patting him hard, trying to get him to saddle up to the Buratto.

“Well technically, I was a point below Kim Namjo-”

Jin choked in a gasp as his father’s grip on his shoulders tightens. He hated when this happens. When his parents would push him into the spotlight with a forced hand.

“My boy here, he’s graduating and has been yapping about attending Hawkings,” Jin’s father chuckled with a fake grin. He was reeling in the big fish. “Didn’t you tell me you applied for a spot in next Summer’s enrollment?”

No, Jin didn’t need to tell him because he, along with Jin’s mother, had filled out the application by themselves. Only telling him about it when they already sealed the envelope, stamp perfectly stuck to the top corner. Even so, Hawkings was and is his dream school ever since he knew how to read. He wanted it and all its glory, and so he nods and smiles as he gushes about his excitement.

It seems that Buratto was pleasantly surprised, oblivious to his father’s blatant attempt at trying to suay his bias opinion, and said he would gladly accept St Strachan Rutherford Academy’s golden boy. At that, his father finally releases his iron grip on his shoulder, presumably satisfied. Without a doubt, Jin was going to see a bruise bloom, black and blue.  

As the adults trail their conversation to politics, he slips away, desperate to find his friends. He had been glued to his parents’ side for hours, pushed from mother to father like a pinball, all to hear them gloat and boast about his accomplishments to everyone. Jin spots Namjoon and his adorable sister on the far side of the big room. Like magnets, he naturally gravitates to his four-eyed friend.

“Save me, please. Take me away from here,” he sighs as he rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulders.

A smile spreads on Jin’s face as he hears the rumble of Namjoon’s deep chuckle. Oh, how he lived for those - it warms his body in all the right places.

“Mmm, well you might have just migrated to another round of Parents’ Pride,” Namjoon murmurs in his ears. He shifts his body so that he was now holding Jin in his embrace. A hand runs up and down Jin’s arm, soothing him even more.

Namjoon’s mother was animatedly talking about him to a group of ladies while Nara nodded along with the words. Jin listens closely to the conversation, surprised at the choice of topic. It wasn’t at all what he expected from Namjoon’s ‘round of Parents’ Pride’.

“It was delicious, by the grace of God I swear, his Souffle brought me to heaven,” she said. “The three of us were stuffed to the brim from the 3-course meal he cooked. He had stayed in the kitchen for hours, would you believe it?”

His mother had been boasting about...his cooking skills. And the way she boasted, it wasn’t in a conceited way. Instead, they were praises for Namjoon. Beautiful, Jin thought, such a beautiful family.

---

The pair strutted in, heads held high with their chests puffed out. They were channelling their alter-egos, inspired by confident male role-models. It was Will Smith, the inspirational actor/comedian for Hoseok and Leonardo DiCaprio, the charming and astounding actor/activist for Jimin. Yes, they were common figures in the island of “role-model” but heck, they gave the two an air of confidence.

“Are you sure this is working? I feel ridiculous,” Jimin muttered as his eyes dart around.

“Just wait for the turn at the corner.”

Hoseok counts down under his breath as they reached the point. Within seconds, they hear gasps and whispers of girls fawning over them. It felt good, Jimin shamelessly admitted as he daringly stuck out his tongue, licking his smirk. He earns a gratifying squeal and his ego undoubtedly grew high to the sky.

“Look at these idiots,” Taehyung guffawed.

“I’m thanking the gods Nara is still a toddler,” Namjoon scoffs. “I’d dig myself a grave if I had to listen to her grovel over them. Eugh.”

“Somehow, my mother’s fundraising gala always turns out to be soft porn for the girls,” Jin sighs.

The three boys stood by the bar, shaking their heads at their strutting friends, who's currently painting a target board on their backs. Those girls they were trying to impress, were somebody’s younger sister and daughter. They better pray none of them gets overly protective.

“Boys,” Jimin and Hoseok simultaneously sing songed as they gave a dramatic bow. It was strangely in sync not to think that they hadn’t practised it beforehand.

“Hubristic asshats,” Namjoon greeted them back with a raise of his glass.

Hoseok spots the three empty glasses on the bar by Taehyung’s elbow. “You started drinking without us?!”

He gives a grim smile, buzzed out of his brains as his eyes search for one Jeon Jungkook. Since he has arrived, he’s only been face to face with three glasses of bourbons while that muscle pig was yet to be found. He needed his drinking buddy real bad. It didn’t need to be said but everyone else in his posse was too boring to accompany him in his drinking rendezvous. Jin was too prissy, he only sipped fucking iced strawberry champagne. Namjoon never liked to get drunk to the point of hard hitting hangover. Jimin was a goody-two-shoe angel that drank with wide eyes. And Hoseok was too naggy by his 3rd glass.

Plus, there were other reasons that he wanted the icy Jeon Jungkook. It’s been decided after his 2nd glass, Kim Taehyung wanted to play with his toy.

“Oh hey uh, either of you has to be my designated driver again,” Taehyung said distractedly as he waved his finger at Jimin and Hoseok.

He squints at the crowd, catching sight of his prey. Damn, he thought, as his eyes raked over the tight material clinging onto Jungkook’s thick thighs. The all black ensemble he had only accentuated his dark personality and it got Taehyung excited like a puppy. He loves to play with his toy, especially when Jungkook had his hair slicked to the side like he was trying to make Taehyung eye fuck him right there and then.

“He drove here on his own,” Jin explained to the clueless pair when they received no more words from Taehyung. “His father’s sex drive was through the roof.”

“Can’t blame him,” Hoseok said before ordering a glass of margarita. “But I’m drinking tonight because I’ve got shit on my shoulders and I’ve already been this drunken ass’ driver a thousand times. You take the honours Jiminie.”

Jimin gratefully takes the shiny keys away from Taehyung’s pocket just as the gentleman orders another glass. He has never met such a young alcoholic before - Taehyung claims he isn’t one, merely a hard liquor expert.

“New money is the bastard’s driver now?”

The boys turn around to see Jungkook striding up to them with a cocked eyebrow. He was finally free from his father’s clutches and took the chance to slip away. The bar was surrounded by his friends, though he’d prefer it Yoongi was there.

“Why do you call me that? I have a name you know. And so does Tae,” Jimin bristled and scowl. That kid never showed respect to Jimin despite him being younger.

“Don’t be flattered, you’re not that special Mini. I have a name for everyone in the group, it’s practically a form of acceptance,” Jungkook said smugly. “Namjoon’s the brainiac, Hoseok’s the linguist, Yoongi’s the hustler and Jin’s the princess.”

He orders a shot of Vodka and looks Jimin in the eye, challenging him to retort back. The shorter friend always gave such great reactions that it made teasing him easy, a hobby almost.

Jimin crosses his arms. “How is it that everyone’s nickname emphasises on their qualities and I’m left with new money?”

“Hey, he called me princess,” Jin pointed out then muttered to Namjoon, “And I’m weirdly okay with that.” The two quietly chuckled, ignoring Jimin’s piercing glare.

“Ah lighten up will you?” Jungkook coos and pinches his chubby cheeks. Jimin swats it away and grumbled away to Hoseok who was busy with his phone. He downs the shot of vodka and asks for another.

“I want a smoke. Anyone?”

Though his question was offered to the group, he somehow found himself staring at Taehyung, urging him to say yes. He knew the boy didn’t smoke too often but of all the things Jungkook loved, goating his friends into doing something they weren’t too fond of was his favourite. Taehyung nurses his bourbon, swirling it around in the glass as he considers the offer; the fourth glass was going down slower than his previous ones. The bartender slides over Jungkook’s shot, immediately taken by Taehyung.

“Drink it with me outside,” he says, his deep voice dripping with sensuality and leaves for one of the many balconies.

That left his friends’ eyebrows shooting upwards, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere. They watch Jungkook shuffle with intrigue after Taehyung without a word.

“I told you! He turns into a suave James Dean when he’s drunk.”

“By why is it that he’s only gunning for Jungkook? He literally called me a sexy virgin pirate and slapped my ass at the store the other day.”

“Aw Jin, do you smell burning jealousy?” Namjoon teases Jimin. “Don’t worry young chap, you’re his sober baby boy remember?”

The two older boys snorted at the blushing Jimin as he rambles on about how Taehyung’s pet name for him was solely platonic. Their bickering dulls away as Hoseok receives a text from Yoongi. He moves away from the noise, resting at the corner of the bar with his margarita.

-From: Min Grampy Having fun?

-To: Min Grampy Well Tae’s drunk, Kook’s being an ass and the two Kims are ganging up on Mini. As normal as always. How’s the beach?

Silently, he wished he could ditch the Gala and run straight to the beach. It’s always so beautiful at night - because it was secluded, covered by tall thick trees, it looked like an observatory with a magnifying lens to watch the twinkling stars.

-From: Min Grampy I see constellations but I can’t name them. If you were here, I’d ask you. You’re always good with them.

-To: Min Grampy Is that your subtle way of asking me to come over? My gosh... is that a compliment I hear? :P

-From: Min Grampy My compliments are reserved for people special to me. And I told you before, my invitation is still open. Come over anytime you want...I’m waiting for you.

The sip of margarita he had, went down the wrong pipe after his eyes scanned Yoongi’s reply. As Hoseok coughs up the bitter drink, the blush that crept up his neck, blooming on his cheeks and staining the tip of his ears practically made him look like a stop sign. Thankfully the rest of his friends were too busy to notice his fumbling ass.

Fucking Min Yoongi is going to be the death of him.

---

The frigid September winds bit at their cheeks the second they slid the balcony door open. Taehyung leads the younger boy to the corner, away from the transparent door. If he wanted to play with his toy, he needed a little privacy - as the groups’ designated tabloid, he of all people knew how fast gossips spread through town and especially in school. He settles Jungkook’s Vodka shot on the wide stone bannister, inviting him over.

Silence hung thick over the two friends as they leant on their elbow while taking in the expanse backyard Jin’s family had. It spread as far as a football field before dipping down a cliff to the crashing waves of the open sea. Jungkook handed Taehyung his open pack of cigarettes, seeing if he would do it. A smirk plays on his lips as his friend slips out a slim stick and placing it between his lips.

He shoves away Taehyung’s open palm and murmurs, “Let me do it for you.”

Jungkook leans closer, his thumb flicking to ignite the lighter. Their eyes pierced each other with intensity as the flickering amber flame glows between them. The tension between them heightened - aided by the fourth glass of Bourbon, the two shots of Vodka, the acrid smell of burning tobacco and their estranged relationship.

They’ve never been this close before, always sticking to the different companies in their group. So to find themselves alone in the dark was threatening to tear at the tension. Jungkook lights one for himself and they snap out of their gaze, going back to mockingly admire the backyard quietly.

Sucking in the smoke of the cigarette sent bursts of nicotine up to his brain, creating quite a cocktail when mixed with his four glasses of Bourbon. Taehyung draws it in deep into his lungs, letting it swirl around his tongue before blowing it out with a satisfied sigh.

“Fuck, I miss getting high,” Taehyung admitted. “I haven’t had a joint in months. You’ve got one on you?”

Jungkook scoffs, “Dimwit, what would I bring illegal weed to a public event. If my dad smells that shit on me, he’d have my grave plotted and dug.”

He takes a big puff from his stick and flicks the ashes away from the bannister. They watch the dull grey flakes float in the wind as it drifts further into the darkness. Then, the silence came again. It was unbearable for Taehyung, especially as someone who lives and breathes for commotions.

“Shit, I just remembered, that Mrs Kim’s Crystal Lilies are planted right below this balcony,” Taehyung said, leaning over as he tries to search in the dark.

Jungkook takes a disinterested peek. “Really?” He couldn’t care less if Taehyung decides to take a dump on Mrs Kim’s damn flowers.

“No. I was just joking,” he giggles.

He clears his throat when his joke was met with Jungkook’s deadpan face, not even showing a glint of amusement - or even any kind of emotions. Tough crowd, Taehyung thought as he huffs to himself. It usually works with Hoseok and Jimin - guess they’ve got better taste in humour.

“Jesus man, if you’re going to be throwing lame jokes the whole night, I need to get drunk,” uttered Jungkook as he throws back his shot, letting the liquid burn a trail down his throat.

A drop of Vodka escapes his lips, spilling down his chin and resting on his Adam's apple. It makes Taehyung gulp at the thought of sucking the liquor off of Jungkook’s neck - and he wouldn’t mind sneaking a little bruise on his skin either.  His tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

“God, you’re sexy.”

Jungkook coughs up the Vodka, burning his throat even more. He was baffled by his friend’s brazen words. How drunk was he really? The younger boy cautiously watches Taehyung as down the last drop of his Bourbon. He was suddenly aware of how close they had been and takes a step to his left.

“I’m being honest here. I’ve watched you practice one of the sports thingies where you smack around a ball. Turns me on.”

Taehyung smirked when he sees Jungkook getting flushed. He was fidgeting with his now-too-tight collar, unbuttoning them as he clears his throat. It made Taehyung even more excited when he flinches under his touch. He had closed the distance between them and was rubbing his thumb over Jungkook’s lower lip.

“Your bad boy demeanour is a plus point too.”

His whisper sent shivers down Jungkook’s arms as he stands rooted to the ground under his touch. The sound of his heart racing pounds in his ears while his eyes are sucked into Taehyung’s warm brown ones. He stiffens when he feels him leaning closer, his soft lips touching the side of his neck.

Taehyung relishes in tasting his skin, sucking and licking all the way to his Adam's apple where the trail of Vodka was waiting for him.

“Ah, T-Tae what are you doing?” Jungkook gasps.

He could feel the wetness of Taehyung’s lips and tongue moving on his skin, melting his entire body. Jungkook lets out a strangled moan when he gently bites just below his jaws. Taehyung’s sinful kisses made Jungkook weak in the knees as he grabs onto his shoulders; biting his lips in anticipation of feeling his nerves spark down to his tight pants.

“The things I’d do to hear you moan like that for me,” Taehyung whispers in his ears as he grabs him by the waist.

He pulls them closer, groaning when he feels Jungkook’s thighs rubbing on his hardening member. It was bliss for him to feel his toy under his control, it made him powerful against the feared Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung knew that after tasting him, he’d be pining for his younger friend endlessly and painfully. But at the moment, it didn’t matter. He’d have him right there and then if he could.

“Dinner is ready! Everyone head down to the dining hall, and don’t forget about your arranged seats!”

Jin’s mother and her shrill voice startled the two boys out of their fantasy land. Jungkook immediately pushes Taehyung away, taking a huge step backwards as he wipes his neck with the back of his hand.

“I’m not gay,” he choked out. He said it like he was trying to convince himself instead of Taehyung.

“No one is gay until they try it.”

Taehyung chuckles as he walks away with his empty glass, acting like nothing erotic had happened between them. He grabs onto the bannister as he feels his knees buckling, feeling dazed from Taehyung’s kisses. Fuck, he thought. If he wasn’t gay then why did it feel so good to have him suck away at his neck? And why did it leave him turned on?

BTS AU Masterlist

#bts #bts army #bts au #bts!au #bts school au #bts college au #bts private boarding school au #bts fanfics #bts fluff #bts angst #bts v #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts rap monster #bts jin #bts jimin #bts j hope #bts taekook #bts vkook #bts namjin #bts jihope #bts yoonseok #bts sope #bts yoongi #bts suga #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan soneyondan

[verifiedcomplaints-blog]

Tony Robbins – The Seller of Nothing

Tony Robbins is a fine example of people who make it big through selling BS products. He is called the infomercial king for a reason, he is good at that. He is so good at selling BS products that he has made a fortune on the same. But it doesn’t mean that he is a legitimate coach. If I say a lie a thousand times, will it become truth? Certainly not. Tony Robbins is a compulsive liar. He preys on people’s emotions and through their hearts, finds his way into their wallets. He plays with people’s emotions and if you ask me, that’s not a good thing. It’s unethical. He is a scam and his entire brand is based on lying to everyone. The only difference between him and any other con artist is of style. Tony yells a lot and uses a lot of cuss words.  You won’t find these many self-help coaches who yell the F-word this many times. Tony has no (or little) knowledge of all the topics he talks about. He is simply a liar who knows his way around a crowd. His seminars are worthless and their price is always in thousands. He manipulates people and if you will see any one of his speeches with some logic, you will see that he only speaks rubbish. Amazingly, his lies are selling books and people are falling prey to his scams again and again. I went to one of his seminars, bought one of his books and I can say, he is nothing other than an overrated yelling liar. Whatever Tony is today, he is because of his large web of lies and cheats. I can’t believe the amount of turmoil he has made others go through. His seminars are painful, useless and cost a lot.  

Who is Tony Robbins?

  There is a whole Wikipedia page about Tony Robbins. There is another biography present on his own website if you take a lot of interest in his biography, feel free to visit his site. Tony was born as Anthony J. Mahavoric on 29th February 1960 in North Hollywood, California. He says his early life had been full of chaos and he used to work as a handyman to help provide for his family. He left his home when he was 17 years old and started working as a janitor. He did not go to college. His scams started as a motivational speaker after he met Jim Rohn. He used to do promotions for speakers at that time. He became a business partner with John Grinder later on. He started teaching Ericksonian Hypnosis and NLP. He released his first infomercial in 1988. This is when he started his scam. His infomercial was a big hit because of his good deception skills and lying ability. If you would go to his website, you will find a profile of a narcissist. There, you will see the bio praising Tony’s lifetime achievements. It tells you that Tony is six times best-selling author and a guy who has changed the lives of over 50 million people. Do you know why he has this many bestsellers? It’s not because he is an expert or a thought leader. It’s because he writes BS books on topics that sell and markets them as if they’re going to change your life. If you will see the ad of a book, which costs a few dollars, telling you that you can transform your life completely by getting a copy of the same, chances are, you’ll buy it without a doubt. Like many successful con artists, Tony knows how to deceive and manipulate people. He uses different strategies, used by scammers and con artists, to deceive people on a large scale. If you will read his ‘life-changing’ books with attention, you will find them full of useless, vague advice. There is nothing valuable present in all of his bestselling books. He is a renowned businessman, however. His fake persona has helped him gain accolades and awards. He is not only a con artist and a scam but he is also a narcissist. The start of his biography (present on his website) can give you a glimpse of his narcissism: “The #1 Life and Business Strategist” His bio keeps telling you how great he is, how generous he is, and what an impact he has made on the world. When I went to one of his seminars and read a few reviews of the same, I found his egoistic nature in its best form. When you hear him talking about something on the stage, he only praises himself. Tony’s companies have a business of $5 billion per year. This depraved man has made a fortune on the hard earned money of innocent people. It’s a sad truth that such liars and scammers are living lavish lifestyles by cheating other honest people. I wish this review will help you realize how narcissistic and depraved Tony Robbins really is.  

He Sells Lies (My Story)

  I had attended one of his seminars because I was intrigued by his daunting presence. I searched for him online and found him to be one of the highest earning self-help coaches and motivational speakers. I thought to myself this guy must be amazing. But before I thought of going to one of his seminars, I thought I should check out one of his books. Now, you should note that Tony Robbins is also a bestselling author and anyone would trust a bestselling book, wouldn’t you? So I bought his book “MONEY: Master the Game.” And  I can tell you one thing, it is full of nonsense. The book doesn’t tell you anything about wealth management or boosting one’s income. Like his all other self-help books and seminars, this book was also full of rubbish content that provided me with no value or insight. I’m not a book reviewer so I don’t know how to say this but if I wanted to sum it up in a few words I would say that THE BOOK IS USELESS. It was my first book regarding finance and I was amazed by the thoughts Tony was sharing. When a multi-millionaire is giving you advice on how to manage your funds to get rich, wouldn’t you take it? I was foolish at that time to believe in Tony. Now I know that one should always check the credentials of a financial guru before heeding his/her advice. The irony is, Tony tells you to check the credentials of a finance guru as well. When I think of it now, I consider it as one of the stupidest mistakes of my life. This guy has zero credentials and he doesn’t have any finance experience. It’s true that he is rich (too rich to be honest) but that doesn’t give him the qualifications to give financial advice to middle-class Americans. His book first discusses some motivational garbage. You shouldn’t be surprised to see useless motivating garbage in any of Tony’s books because that’s what increases his sales. And talking about motivation is the only thing Tony knows in reality. I am talking about the rubbish present in his book now but at that time, I didn’t find his advice useless. I was impressed by his writing and I thought I could learn more if I attended one of his seminars. Moreover, Tony’s infomercials always plague the television. Every American has seen Tony Robbins’ infomercials at least once on TV. I was too stupid to trust this guy. Anyways, I booked a ticket for one of his ‘Motivating’ seminars. It cost me $5,000 and believe me, it was a lot for me. I had to switch up my budget and cut back on some expenses to afford this seminar. But the seminar promised valuable knowledge and life-changing insights. And like any other desperate financially struggling person, I was lured by these words. When I attended the seminar, I realized my mistake. It was packed with people who also wanted to change their lives for good and find useful knowledge that will help them in this regard. We had to wait for half an hour after the designated time for Robbins to arrive. There were all kinds of people present in the crowd. What we all visitors got in return to our $5,000 ticket and 30 minutes of waiting was a 45-minute speech from a 6-foot guy who was constantly yelling f*ck. The seminar started with music and Tony entered the stage with enthusiasm. Everything was just too energetic. I was excited to hear more of Tony but after a few minutes into the speech, all my excitement vanished. He was just yelling and saying nonsense things. In about every 2-4 minutes, he would bring up his struggles and how he managed to get ahead in life. Then he started asking questions to the public. He brought out a member of the audience who was suffering from depression. This lady discussed how she has grown tired of her life and that she no longer sees any hope. Do you know what Tony did? He told her that she is wrong to think that way. I loved this part but hated the next. He told her to come to the stage, then he picked 4 random strangers (all men) and told her to hug them tightly. He said, they are your friends and they believe in you. What kind of rubbish was that? Did he really force a woman, who is suffering from depression, to hug four random dudes? I was disgusted. I realized that Tony is a misogynist and he acts as he cares about his followers. Believe me, he doesn’t. His rest of the seminar was full of such BS and trash. I learned nothing of value and I felt angry because I had wasted $5,000 (not counting the cost of the trip) to listen to a middle-aged crazy guy who likes to yell. Oh, and also, he is ignorant. When I asked other visitors, some told me that they had burned up their savings to get to this seminar. They were struggling in their lives and they had hoped Tony would give them some useful guidance. When the seminar ended, the organizers started pushing us to buy more of his tickets and products. One of his ‘advanced’ seminars cost about $8,000! What kind of advice will a guy receive there? Tony Robbins is running a huge scam. He is deceiving people, telling them that he would give them useful advice while all he does is yell for an hour and share his life stories. There is nothing you can learn from Tony Robbins apart from the fact that the world is unfair. There are scammers, liars, cheats, and frauds like Tony, who are earning the big bucks for doing nothing while an honest person toils day and night. I began doubting the book I read, “MONEY: Master the Game”. I did a little research and I found that it is one of the most useless finance books present in the market. Why did it sell so many copies then?  

  It’s because it sells fake promises and dreams. It’s written by one of the biggest con artists present in your world and Tony spent a lot of money on marketing it. This book is supposed to give you finance wisdom. But the truth is, it gives you nothing more than some vague advice and some motivational garbage. I still regret my purchase of his book and the $5,000 ticket to his seminar. I would have been better off if I hadn’t wasted my money on Tony’s rubbish. My advice is, consult with a certified professional and not with this ignorant, narcissist, who doesn’t have an idea of finance or wealth management.  

Allegations and Complaints

  There are many people who have suffered due to the malicious lies of Tony. I’m not the only person who thinks Tony is an overrated piece of shit who shouldn’t be allowed to share his views. He is selling lies and the worst part is, people are buying them. A critical review of his book, which I unfortunately read, called “MONEY: Master the Game” was published on the Guardian. Here is the link: https://www.theguardian.com/money/2014/nov/24/infomercial-king-tony-robbins-wants-to-be-the-next-suze-orman The reviewer discusses how Tony Robbins is not the right person to give you financial advice. This guy caused countless people to be deprived of 90% gains of the stock market when he told his followers to pull out of stocks in 2010. Tony doesn’t know a thing about finance and he is the wrong person to give advice on this topic in all sense. This review also  shares how Tony Robbins has used the name of popular investors such as Warren Buffett, Paul Tudor Jones and Jack Bogle. The reviewer has also discussed how Tony Robbins’ advice is useless for most of the readers. The investing tips he is sharing are for those who have hundreds of thousands of dollars in spare (if not millions). And most of the readers of this book, like me, don’t have that kind of money. If you ask me, I think Tony has no idea of finance and investing. He saw an opportunity in finance writing and thought to himself, “Fuck, I’m gonna make myself some money with this now.” And with no prior experience and no basic knowledge of finance, he wrote a book on this subject. I highly suspect that he even wrote it himself. He could have hired a ghostwriter to do the job for him while he goes out there stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from other innocent people. That’s not all -  To fuel the sales of his book, he lied publicly about the contents of his book. I’m not the one saying this. You can check the review and see it yourself. He told everyone that he was going to share a ‘never before shared’ strategy of Ray Dalio. The strategy which he shares, in reality, is a common one for any follower of Ray. So, Tony Robbins is a guy who lies vehemently and sells rubbish to thousands of people. To ensure people buy that rubbish, he spends lavishly on marketing and advertising, tricking others into believing that he is legit.  

The Truth about his Seminars:

  His books aren’t the only trash he sells to the world. Many other people who have visited his seminars have found him to be utterly stupid and vague. I have already shared my story with you. But there are hundreds (if not thousands) of people who agree with me on the point that Tony Robbins is a cheat and his seminars are nothing but a waste. And don’t even get me started on his ‘fire walking’ stunts. They are for show-off and he organizes them to deceive people. Not one, not twice but many times, people have been severely burnt and hurt because of his firewalking routine. The worse thing is the people who get hurt because of the routine blame themselves and not the ‘guru’ for the failure. They think they are unworthy or they lack the will power to succeed in life. They don’t think logically. They don’t look at the facts. They don’t look at the 6-foot guy forcing them to walk on burning coal. No, they blame themselves. These guys don’t sue Tony because of the shame they feel. If Tony asks you to walk on fire and you fail, you are perceived as a wuss and a failure in the eyes of other ardent followers of this monster. Countless people have burned their feet and faced injuries because of Tony’s negligence. But none of them sued this guy. It’s a shame. His nonsense firewalk has been featured in the news because of the injuries it has caused. His firewalk sent 30 people to the hospital whose feet were burnt severely because of the burning coal. According to his website, the firewalk is a symbolic way to help people overcome their fears. And if 1% of the 7,000 participants get burnt, it doesn’t affect them. They don’t care about the well being of their customers. This means if 70 people get burnt, they don’t care. Why should they? The people who are fire-walking have already paid Tony for participating. Frankly, this attitude doesn’t surprise me. If you get physically hurt during a fire-walk with Tony Robbins, don’t expect to get a refund or any aid. You’ll end up with some physical injuries, low self-esteem and a number of people calling you a loser. The kind of businesses Tony Robbins is running is all deceitful. Take a look at all of his information products and you’ll find vague advice on a cashable topic. Tony also has a Netflix documentary called “I’m not your guru”. The title is wasteful because the whole documentary is about him being your guru. I have already discussed one of his seminars (which I attended) and his Netflix documentary is about another one of his events. The main highlights of his event are: Tony forcing a woman to break up with her boyfriend in front of thousands of other people Tony forcefully assigning a few ‘uncles’ to a survivor of sexual abuse Tony hugging a sexual abuse survivor (very tightly) Tony forcing a suicidal lady to speak about the reasons why she wanted to die, in front of thousands of strangers All of this happens in between the constant yelling (of the F-word) by Tony. The fun fact is, all the attendees paid $5,000 for the event. The value they got was zero.  

Conclusion

  Tony Robbins has created a multi-million empire through his deception, lies and malicious schemes. He sells useless books, yells constantly about his life and uses cuss words more often than necessary. He doesn’t care about his consumers. And he has ruined the lives of innumerable lives. I’m glad that I came to my senses and stopped listening to this cheater. But there are many people who are still falling prey to this wicked fraud. What do you think of Tony now? Do you think he is a legitimate coach or malicious fraud?  

Sources:

  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Robbins https://www.tonyrobbins.com/biography/ https://www.headstuff.org/topical/science/heres-tony-robbins-definitely-not-guru/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfYtHbmI-NI https://www.quora.com/Is-Tony-Robbins-a-scam-or-con-artist Read the full article

[bewarereport-blog]

Tony Robbins – The Seller of Nothing

Tony Robbins is a fine example of people who make it big through selling BS products. He is called the infomercial king for a reason, he is good at that. He is so good at selling BS products that he has made a fortune on the same. But it doesn’t mean that he is a legitimate coach. If I say a lie a thousand times, will it become truth? Certainly not. Tony Robbins is a compulsive liar. He preys on people’s emotions and through their hearts, finds his way into their wallets. He plays with people’s emotions and if you ask me, that’s not a good thing. It’s unethical. He is a scam and his entire brand is based on lying to everyone. The only difference between him and any other con artist is of style. Tony yells a lot and uses a lot of cuss words.  You won’t find these many self-help coaches who yell the F-word this many times. Tony has no (or little) knowledge of all the topics he talks about. He is simply a liar who knows his way around a crowd. His seminars are worthless and their price is always in thousands. He manipulates people and if you will see any one of his speeches with some logic, you will see that he only speaks rubbish. Amazingly, his lies are selling books and people are falling prey to his scams again and again. I went to one of his seminars, bought one of his books and I can say, he is nothing other than an overrated yelling liar. Whatever Tony is today, he is because of his large web of lies and cheats. I can’t believe the amount of turmoil he has made others go through. His seminars are painful, useless and cost a lot.  

Who is Tony Robbins?

  There is a whole Wikipedia page about Tony Robbins. There is another biography present on his own website if you take a lot of interest in his biography, feel free to visit his site. Tony was born as Anthony J. Mahavoric on 29th February 1960 in North Hollywood, California. He says his early life had been full of chaos and he used to work as a handyman to help provide for his family. He left his home when he was 17 years old and started working as a janitor. He did not go to college. His scams started as a motivational speaker after he met Jim Rohn. He used to do promotions for speakers at that time. He became a business partner with John Grinder later on. He started teaching Ericksonian Hypnosis and NLP. He released his first infomercial in 1988. This is when he started his scam. His infomercial was a big hit because of his good deception skills and lying ability. If you would go to his website, you will find a profile of a narcissist. There, you will see the bio praising Tony’s lifetime achievements. It tells you that Tony is six times best-selling author and a guy who has changed the lives of over 50 million people. Do you know why he has this many bestsellers? It’s not because he is an expert or a thought leader. It’s because he writes BS books on topics that sell and markets them as if they’re going to change your life. If you will see the ad of a book, which costs a few dollars, telling you that you can transform your life completely by getting a copy of the same, chances are, you’ll buy it without a doubt. Like many successful con artists, Tony knows how to deceive and manipulate people. He uses different strategies, used by scammers and con artists, to deceive people on a large scale. If you will read his ‘life-changing’ books with attention, you will find them full of useless, vague advice. There is nothing valuable present in all of his bestselling books. He is a renowned businessman, however. His fake persona has helped him gain accolades and awards. He is not only a con artist and a scam but he is also a narcissist. The start of his biography (present on his website) can give you a glimpse of his narcissism: “The #1 Life and Business Strategist” His bio keeps telling you how great he is, how generous he is, and what an impact he has made on the world. When I went to one of his seminars and read a few reviews of the same, I found his egoistic nature in its best form. When you hear him talking about something on the stage, he only praises himself. Tony’s companies have a business of $5 billion per year. This depraved man has made a fortune on the hard earned money of innocent people. It’s a sad truth that such liars and scammers are living lavish lifestyles by cheating other honest people. I wish this review will help you realize how narcissistic and depraved Tony Robbins really is.  

He Sells Lies (My Story)

  I had attended one of his seminars because I was intrigued by his daunting presence. I searched for him online and found him to be one of the highest earning self-help coaches and motivational speakers. I thought to myself this guy must be amazing. But before I thought of going to one of his seminars, I thought I should check out one of his books. Now, you should note that Tony Robbins is also a bestselling author and anyone would trust a bestselling book, wouldn’t you? So I bought his book “MONEY: Master the Game.” And  I can tell you one thing, it is full of nonsense. The book doesn’t tell you anything about wealth management or boosting one’s income. Like his all other self-help books and seminars, this book was also full of rubbish content that provided me with no value or insight. I’m not a book reviewer so I don’t know how to say this but if I wanted to sum it up in a few words I would say that THE BOOK IS USELESS. It was my first book regarding finance and I was amazed by the thoughts Tony was sharing. When a multi-millionaire is giving you advice on how to manage your funds to get rich, wouldn’t you take it? I was foolish at that time to believe in Tony. Now I know that one should always check the credentials of a financial guru before heeding his/her advice. The irony is, Tony tells you to check the credentials of a finance guru as well. When I think of it now, I consider it as one of the stupidest mistakes of my life. This guy has zero credentials and he doesn’t have any finance experience. It’s true that he is rich (too rich to be honest) but that doesn’t give him the qualifications to give financial advice to middle-class Americans. His book first discusses some motivational garbage. You shouldn’t be surprised to see useless motivating garbage in any of Tony’s books because that’s what increases his sales. And talking about motivation is the only thing Tony knows in reality. I am talking about the rubbish present in his book now but at that time, I didn’t find his advice useless. I was impressed by his writing and I thought I could learn more if I attended one of his seminars. Moreover, Tony’s infomercials always plague the television. Every American has seen Tony Robbins’ infomercials at least once on TV. I was too stupid to trust this guy. Anyways, I booked a ticket for one of his ‘Motivating’ seminars. It cost me $5,000 and believe me, it was a lot for me. I had to switch up my budget and cut back on some expenses to afford this seminar. But the seminar promised valuable knowledge and life-changing insights. And like any other desperate financially struggling person, I was lured by these words. When I attended the seminar, I realized my mistake. It was packed with people who also wanted to change their lives for good and find useful knowledge that will help them in this regard. We had to wait for half an hour after the designated time for Robbins to arrive. There were all kinds of people present in the crowd. What we all visitors got in return to our $5,000 ticket and 30 minutes of waiting was a 45-minute speech from a 6-foot guy who was constantly yelling f*ck. The seminar started with music and Tony entered the stage with enthusiasm. Everything was just too energetic. I was excited to hear more of Tony but after a few minutes into the speech, all my excitement vanished. He was just yelling and saying nonsense things. In about every 2-4 minutes, he would bring up his struggles and how he managed to get ahead in life. Then he started asking questions to the public. He brought out a member of the audience who was suffering from depression. This lady discussed how she has grown tired of her life and that she no longer sees any hope. Do you know what Tony did? He told her that she is wrong to think that way. I loved this part but hated the next. He told her to come to the stage, then he picked 4 random strangers (all men) and told her to hug them tightly. He said, they are your friends and they believe in you. What kind of rubbish was that? Did he really force a woman, who is suffering from depression, to hug four random dudes? I was disgusted. I realized that Tony is a misogynist and he acts as he cares about his followers. Believe me, he doesn’t. His rest of the seminar was full of such BS and trash. I learned nothing of value and I felt angry because I had wasted $5,000 (not counting the cost of the trip) to listen to a middle-aged crazy guy who likes to yell. Oh, and also, he is ignorant. When I asked other visitors, some told me that they had burned up their savings to get to this seminar. They were struggling in their lives and they had hoped Tony would give them some useful guidance. When the seminar ended, the organizers started pushing us to buy more of his tickets and products. One of his ‘advanced’ seminars cost about $8,000! What kind of advice will a guy receive there? Tony Robbins is running a huge scam. He is deceiving people, telling them that he would give them useful advice while all he does is yell for an hour and share his life stories. There is nothing you can learn from Tony Robbins apart from the fact that the world is unfair. There are scammers, liars, cheats, and frauds like Tony, who are earning the big bucks for doing nothing while an honest person toils day and night. I began doubting the book I read, “MONEY: Master the Game”. I did a little research and I found that it is one of the most useless finance books present in the market. Why did it sell so many copies then?  

  It’s because it sells fake promises and dreams. It’s written by one of the biggest con artists present in your world and Tony spent a lot of money on marketing it. This book is supposed to give you finance wisdom. But the truth is, it gives you nothing more than some vague advice and some motivational garbage. I still regret my purchase of his book and the $5,000 ticket to his seminar. I would have been better off if I hadn’t wasted my money on Tony’s rubbish. My advice is, consult with a certified professional and not with this ignorant, narcissist, who doesn’t have an idea of finance or wealth management.  

Allegations and Complaints

  There are many people who have suffered due to the malicious lies of Tony. I’m not the only person who thinks Tony is an overrated piece of shit who shouldn’t be allowed to share his views. He is selling lies and the worst part is, people are buying them. A critical review of his book, which I unfortunately read, called “MONEY: Master the Game” was published on the Guardian. Here is the link: https://www.theguardian.com/money/2014/nov/24/infomercial-king-tony-robbins-wants-to-be-the-next-suze-orman The reviewer discusses how Tony Robbins is not the right person to give you financial advice. This guy caused countless people to be deprived of 90% gains of the stock market when he told his followers to pull out of stocks in 2010. Tony doesn’t know a thing about finance and he is the wrong person to give advice on this topic in all sense. This review also  shares how Tony Robbins has used the name of popular investors such as Warren Buffett, Paul Tudor Jones and Jack Bogle. The reviewer has also discussed how Tony Robbins’ advice is useless for most of the readers. The investing tips he is sharing are for those who have hundreds of thousands of dollars in spare (if not millions). And most of the readers of this book, like me, don’t have that kind of money. If you ask me, I think Tony has no idea of finance and investing. He saw an opportunity in finance writing and thought to himself, “Fuck, I’m gonna make myself some money with this now.” And with no prior experience and no basic knowledge of finance, he wrote a book on this subject. I highly suspect that he even wrote it himself. He could have hired a ghostwriter to do the job for him while he goes out there stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from other innocent people. That’s not all -  To fuel the sales of his book, he lied publicly about the contents of his book. I’m not the one saying this. You can check the review and see it yourself. He told everyone that he was going to share a ‘never before shared’ strategy of Ray Dalio. The strategy which he shares, in reality, is a common one for any follower of Ray. So, Tony Robbins is a guy who lies vehemently and sells rubbish to thousands of people. To ensure people buy that rubbish, he spends lavishly on marketing and advertising, tricking others into believing that he is legit.  

The Truth about his Seminars:

  His books aren’t the only trash he sells to the world. Many other people who have visited his seminars have found him to be utterly stupid and vague. I have already shared my story with you. But there are hundreds (if not thousands) of people who agree with me on the point that Tony Robbins is a cheat and his seminars are nothing but a waste. And don’t even get me started on his ‘fire walking’ stunts. They are for show-off and he organizes them to deceive people. Not one, not twice but many times, people have been severely burnt and hurt because of his firewalking routine. The worse thing is the people who get hurt because of the routine blame themselves and not the ‘guru’ for the failure. They think they are unworthy or they lack the will power to succeed in life. They don’t think logically. They don’t look at the facts. They don’t look at the 6-foot guy forcing them to walk on burning coal. No, they blame themselves. These guys don’t sue Tony because of the shame they feel. If Tony asks you to walk on fire and you fail, you are perceived as a wuss and a failure in the eyes of other ardent followers of this monster. Countless people have burned their feet and faced injuries because of Tony’s negligence. But none of them sued this guy. It’s a shame. His nonsense firewalk has been featured in the news because of the injuries it has caused. His firewalk sent 30 people to the hospital whose feet were burnt severely because of the burning coal. According to his website, the firewalk is a symbolic way to help people overcome their fears. And if 1% of the 7,000 participants get burnt, it doesn’t affect them. They don’t care about the well being of their customers. This means if 70 people get burnt, they don’t care. Why should they? The people who are fire-walking have already paid Tony for participating. Frankly, this attitude doesn’t surprise me. If you get physically hurt during a fire-walk with Tony Robbins, don’t expect to get a refund or any aid. You’ll end up with some physical injuries, low self-esteem and a number of people calling you a loser. The kind of businesses Tony Robbins is running is all deceitful. Take a look at all of his information products and you’ll find vague advice on a cashable topic. Tony also has a Netflix documentary called “I’m not your guru”. The title is wasteful because the whole documentary is about him being your guru. I have already discussed one of his seminars (which I attended) and his Netflix documentary is about another one of his events. The main highlights of his event are: Tony forcing a woman to break up with her boyfriend in front of thousands of other people Tony forcefully assigning a few ‘uncles’ to a survivor of sexual abuse Tony hugging a sexual abuse survivor (very tightly) Tony forcing a suicidal lady to speak about the reasons why she wanted to die, in front of thousands of strangers All of this happens in between the constant yelling (of the F-word) by Tony. The fun fact is, all the attendees paid $5,000 for the event. The value they got was zero.  

Conclusion

  Tony Robbins has created a multi-million empire through his deception, lies and malicious schemes. He sells useless books, yells constantly about his life and uses cuss words more often than necessary. He doesn’t care about his consumers. And he has ruined the lives of innumerable lives. I’m glad that I came to my senses and stopped listening to this cheater. But there are many people who are still falling prey to this wicked fraud. What do you think of Tony now? Do you think he is a legitimate coach or malicious fraud?  

Sources:

  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Robbins https://www.tonyrobbins.com/biography/ https://www.headstuff.org/topical/science/heres-tony-robbins-definitely-not-guru/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfYtHbmI-NI https://www.quora.com/Is-Tony-Robbins-a-scam-or-con-artist Read the full article