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sunraies · 1 year

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hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

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suguru-getos · 5 months

Text

Fluffember with Satoru Gojo

Prompt: Sharing a drink

Summary: You are in the early phases of your relationship with Satoru where you haven't even kissed each other yet. Taking things comfortingly and achingly slow. You go on a date with him where you share a drink together. <3 Warnings: None, it's absolutely fluffy in the most Dark Academia of ways since it has an almost poetic depiction of my love for this man lol. I have self-indulged here, so the reader is lean (Mentioning of his palm almost covering our waist); apart from that - nothing else. Let me know if I've missed anything loves x -> Talk to me about the man ;)

You hadn't spent much time with Gojo Satoru yet, however that didn't mean that the early stages of the relationship are not memorable and enticing in the least. Take today for an example, you can't wait for work to finish & go on a coffee date with him. It's barely been 10 days of you two agreeing to be in a committed relationship with each other. Your backgrounds were totally different, your brother goes to Jujutsu High and as his guardian who lives in Japan- you had met Satoru Gojo several times. He had introduced him to you as his teacher when he was 15, and now he is 18. A third year and ready to graduate. Satoru met you when you were 20, and he was 26 that time. There was always an eerie, unspoken mystery between you two. You didn't try on him though, as good looking and fluent in English as he was… something about there being no chances ever to exist caused your behaviour to carry a severe astonishing indifference towards him. Something that bewildered even Satoru always, though he was happy that there is someone who does not kiss the floor he walks on. It felt a good change, the only people who behave normally with him are his male counterparts, and women like Shoko and Utahime who know he is not to be taken so seriously at times.

Until on your brother's 18th birthday, he got him a fucking Mercedes. That was- interesting to say the least. You had talked to him here and there but your brother's birthday bash is the moment when you two started talking for real. Hobbies, what are your favourite places to visit, what irks you off, how his technique works… everything. Hell he cockily showed you his domain as well, something so beautiful you were haunted by it in your dreams.

You shake off all the thoughts in your head when one of your colleagues asked your help in something. He was a junior and often came to you with his series of questions and doubts. So far you hadn't mentored anyone really… though everything has started to remind you about Satoru Gojo. How good of a mentor he is for your sibling… Damn it, that man- you still haven't kissed for fuck's sake! Just gone on a casual movie date when he had to run off when your brother felt his CE in your house. Pft- funny… you can't wait for him to judge Satoru as a boyfriend when you finally tell him.

Satoru Gojo [3:00 PM]: Hey! :D You up for the date after work right???

You bit your lip as your phone's home screen lit up with the familiar name, no you haven't saved his contact cutely yet… you can't afford to move too fast. Don't want to be the one to fall first and fall harder and then get your heart broken to pieces.

You [3:01 PM]: Yeah, ofc! I'd get free by 5. Send me the pin.

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: LOL

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: 🤣🤣😏

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: She thinks I'll not pick her fine ass up, mkay girl

You smiled a little at the text, biting your lip and raising your hand for your colleague to stop talking. He complied, seeing you so occupied and having dusted cheeks.

You [3:02 PM]: Okay, I'll wait :)

You're a dry texter at times, but you can be extremely chaotic when you're comfortable. Satoru still needed to unlock that gremlin potential after all.

Oh you can't wait for your work day to end, glancing at the time, listening to songs, finishing the Knowledge Transfer session with your junior colleague. Finally, it was 5:00 PM. You aren't one of the people who leave work on the dot, but today is an exception. You left your seat at 4:50, gliding towards the washroom and doing a final touch up on your make-up, before leaving outside.

There he stood, the man himself. Body language easy as a breeze, like a relief you'd expect when you see him with a tingle of nervousness that makes your heart ache. Oh he was wearing his glasses today, wearing a black shirt and some formal pants, waving his hands at you with a cheerful grin. He was the tallest amongst everyone walking by, easily visible and the most beautiful and ethereal of course.

You smiled back, walking towards him like an excited child and hugging him softly. Satoru wasn't soft at all though, single-handedly covering almost your entire waist into his palm and pulling you close, letting you drown in his expensive and luxurious cologne. Satoru smelled like power, if it was supposed to be a scent. A unique and distinguished scent that you wouldn't be too creepy to ask right now.

"Gosh little girl, I missed you. What're you doing to me?" He chuckled, walking alongside you and holding your hand possessively, intertwining fingers. Everything felt too much, and nothing at the same time. Nothing as in you wanted more, too much as in you can't take his touches which are now so relevant and so easy for him.

"I missed you too, Satoru." You still slur a little, and he looks down at you from his glasses, he loves how his name sounds from your voice. You've always called him Gojo san out of respect as your brother's sensei. Calling him Satoru helps break any restraints you have bounded yourself in.

Your office was near the bustling labyrinth of Tokyo city, and finding a neat and boujee coffee shop wasn't really hard for your boyfriend. You both walked in, and the barista was as mesmerised by Satoru at first glance as you were. Can't blame her, he is gut-wrenchingly beautiful after all. Sculpted by the gods.

"I'd like uh, to have?" He rips through your stray thoughts and smiles, looking down to match your height and leaning in a little closer to your face. "What'd my girl like to have?" Fucking hell you could combust! "I'd like to have a Chocolate Frappucino with an extra shot of espresso and some vanilla extract & caramel syrup please."

"Oh making a coffee mocktail are we?" Satoru grinned, and looked at the Barista who glanced expectantly at him for his order. "Oh we'd make an extra-large, and make it two straws kay?" He said is so casually though it was the cutest thing that has happened to you so far.

He held your hand and found a place for you and him, pulling your chair like a gentleman. "How was work, little one?" He muses, while you talk to him about your day, how you organized Zumba classes today for your colleagues and how your work was as hectic as ever but nothing to complain since you're not overworked.

He nods, and listens, like- really, really listens. For someone who talks a lot, Satoru was extremely observant and quiet right now.

Then, came the order, the Barista placing the tray with the coffee on the table & sliding in the two straws. "I hope you two enjoy." The venomous formality tinged with jealousy dripped out from her throat as she left. Satoru of course paid no mind… though you could observe how people looked at him. As if he was someone to attain.

You leaned in, wrapping your lips around the straw after dipping it into the coffee and took a sip. "Mm, so good." You almost moan a little at the exquisite taste. Satoru hands you the other straw, while you looked at him bewildered. His lips wrapped around 'your' straw, which had 'your' lipstick imprint and took a sip. Leaving you absolutely flustered and fazed. "So good, true… best thing I've ever tasted in 29 years." He hums with a genuine affirmation that only drives you off the edge. "Stop it, you're so dramatic!" You laughed, taking the other straw and sharing the drink.

How to make silly little things intimate - you could only hope to learn from Satoru Gojo <3 then again, you have several more dates with him to learn it after all. He was whipped and falling desolatingly fast for you.

#gojo satoru #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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thought--bubble · 2 months

Text

Subtraction

Michael Gavey X (Preacher's Daughter Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 2886

Banners by @arcielee

Michael Gavey Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings:: Corruption Kink, Oral sex (M receiving), Fingering, dubcon, coercion, religious guilt

A/N: This was really fun to write because I'm a math gal myself 🤣

Based on THIS request.

Michael is walking on clouds today. As far as he is concerned, today is a great fucking day.

He has been working as a tutor all semester trying to plump up his resume so he can go for that TA position he knows is going to open up next autumn.

Thus far, every student he has worked with is an airhead. The worst was Farleigh, who didn't actually want to learn anything and would just wait until Michael spoon fed him the answers and take off as soon as the assignment was finished.

But today, today Michael was told he was going to tutor you. The cutest little thing he has ever laid eyes on. With your mid-thigh length plaid skirts, high socks, and little cardigans, it was like you walked out straight out of his dreams and into Oxford.

You were a pastors daughter. Prim and proper, always walking around with that little silver cross hanging from your neck. Michael had spotted you as soon as school had started, and it only took about a month before the dreaded Felix Catton had set his sights on you. As if it wasn't bad enough that Michael's only friend Oliver had already been wrapped up in Felix's little web now, Michael had to watch that web get spun around you.

Which is why it came as such a big surprise when you turned him down. Felix had been trying for weeks to hook up with you. Following you around like a puppy, it made Michael sick. Couldn't Felix see how special you are? How could he treat you as just another name in his little black book?

Michael's vindication came in the form of a very public rejection where you called out Felix for "only wanting one thing" in the courtyard for multiple students and staff to see.

The public embarrassment this afforded Felix only made Michael more enamored with you. He found himself constantly daydreaming of you. He imagined you sitting on his lap as he kissed you. Your pure innocent lips on his never having been soiled by another man's touch. He imagines pushing up that little plaid skirt and sinking his fingers deep into that cunt, sweet. Innocent, and just for him.

Michael was feeling a bit nervous as he sat and waited for you in the library. He knew his personality left a lot to be desired. If there was anyone in this wretched place, he didn't want to scare off with his brashness it was you.

"Just be normal. Just be normal, " he whispers to himself as he continues to wait, fingers tapping on the thick wooden table.

"She was supposed to be here by now," he wonders aloud. She didn't show up because it's me probably. She's heard all the horror stories of me being annoying or weird. I've already ruined it before I had a chance to meet her. Well, if she's going to be like that, then I wouldn't want her anyway. She's just like all these other posh Neanderthals. Judging someone before they've even properly gotten to know them.

Michael's brain continues to rattle off thought after thought bouncing between sadness, rejection, and anger, as he glares toward the entry to the library picking at the table with his fingernail.

Then you walk in, books clung tightly to your chest, a pink and gray pleated skirt, white knee high socks and those cute black shoes with the straps, a pink cardigan and shining in the light the dainty silver cross you're never seen without.

He sits up straighter, clearing his throat, as he subtly shifts his books, notebooks, and pens on the table.

"Michael?" Your voice sounds so sweet to Michael that he has to force himself not to salivate.

"Yes. That's me, I take it you're my new pupil?" Keep calm, Gavey. Don't act like a creep. He repeats these two rules to himself while sporting a look of indifference on his face.

You reach your hand out to him and tell him your name. He takes your hand and shakes it. So small, soft, and delicate. Perfect hands. Just the right size to be engulfed by Michael's rather sizable hands, he thinks to himself.

"Hello?" You look at him questioningly as he stares at you while absent-mindedly continuing to shake your hand for far longer than was necessary.

What you didn't know was in Michael's head he was all over you, he had you bent over this wooden table, skirt pushed up to reveal your rounded bum, him sliding himself in and out of your body while you begged him for more.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, and his cheeks burn crimson when he realizes he is still shaking your hand. "Right.. umm" he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and pulls on the collar of his shirt. The heat on his face has traveled to his chest.

As you sit, he can't help but watch you. You're so gentle from the way you sit to the way you place your books on the table.

"So what specifically are you struggling with?" He already knows she is failing the class in its entirety, but he can't seem to find another way to initiate conversation.

You whimper, and Michael just about dies

"Everything. Every single thing." You put your hands over your face clearly stressed.

"Oh. Well, we will start from the beginning then." Michael starts with what he thinks will be the easiest, basic statistics.

Even with this, you struggle greatly, the hours spent in the library do prove beneficial but only slightly and the novelty of being with you has started to wear off for Michael due to the sheer shock of how bad you are at this.

Michael rubs his temples, his head just barely hovering over the wood of the library table. "Did they not touch on any of this in secondary school?"

"They did, I wasn't any good there either, but I was able to make it up in other ways"

Michael lifts his head and looks at you quizzically. "Other ways?"

"Extra credit, community service, church duty." You explained this as if it was perfectly normal to pass maths because you picked up an extra shift helping at the church.

Michael blinks as he blankly stares back at you. "Right.......of course...... obviously......"

He looks around the library and sees it's mostly cleared out. "Well they'll be kicking us out of here any minute now" He sighs as he closes the books on the table packing up to leave, relieved that this elongated torture session has come to a close.

You stand up nervously. "No!" You didn't mean to shriek, but you did, voice reverberating around the nearly empty library.

"The quiz is in two days! I..... I can't fail! My father! He will....... oh no, please! Keep going. I'll do anything!"

Michael immediately stops moving and fights the small smirk, clawing its way across his features. Anything. I'll do anything. The words float through his mind like a beautiful song he has been waiting to hear.

Anything.

"Well, you could come back to my dorm, and we could continue......." He starts as he looks around sheepishly.

"Yes! Oh my goodness, yes! Thank you, Michael!" You excitedly collect the rest of your things from the table.

"But," Michael interjects. "We will have to....... make the process more interesting because i was nearly falling asleep a moment ago"

"Sure! whatever you suggest." You beam a smile at him, and he smirks. Oh, he has a suggestion that will keep both of them awake.

Michael opens the door to his dorm, holding his arm out and gesturing for you to go first.

You enter the room and look around. It's extremely neat. No personal effects save for a photo of Michael and his parents.

Michael walks in behind you, closing the door and setting his books down on the small table in the corner.

"Sit." He motions toward the chair across from him.

You place your books down on the table and slowly lower yourself into the chair.

" So I have an idea...... that might give you the proper.... motivation" his eyes travel up and down your form, and he slightly bites on his bottom lip before he continues. "I'm going to show you an example problem. Then I'm going to give you the same type of problem to solve. If you get it right, i remove an article of clothing. If you get it wrong, you do"

"Oh! umm Michael.... I'm not sure. " You nervously wring your hands in your lap. You are terrible at maths you would surely end up naked in no time.

"You said anything, and this will keep me awake. We could always just call it for the night......" He trails off looking to the side.

"Wait! no! ok"

Michael smirks. "Ok, then let's get started.

As expected, you get most answers wrong first, taking off your shoes, socks, and earrings. When you finally get one right, Michael chuckles and takes off his belt.

"Good, good. See? What did I tell you? proper motivation." He scoots his chair forward, a bit closing the space between you.

A few more problems later you are sitting there in nothing but a bra and panties Michael in his shirt and boxers.

As you try to focus on the current problem, you can't help but be distracted by the rather sizable bulge in his boxers.

"T-there," your voice faulters as you slide the paper back towards Michael for his review. He looks it over quickly.

"Sorry darling, that's not quite it." He leans forward, explaining where you went wrong with the formula.

"Oh." You feel the heat pool in your cheeks as you unlatch your bra. Trying to cover your breasts as you remove it.

Michael's eyes light up as he takes in your almost nude form. The bulge in his boxers becomes even more apparent as he races to write you up a new problem.

"What happens when I run out of clothes?" You know, at this point, it is an inevitability that you will end up completely nude, but you are learning and starting to get problems correct. If you can learn just enough to pass the quiz, you could possibly save your grade in this class.

"We will figure something out between the two of us, I'm sure." He brings his hand down to your knee, gently rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You focus completely on the next math problem, trying desperately to hold off the inevitable removal of your panties.

"Bravo!" Michael cheers as you slide a math problem done correctly over to him. "Guess you survive this round" He stands up from the chair and pulls his boxers off, exposing his fully erect cock.

You mean to look away. You should look away, right? That would be the polite thing to do but you can't. He is long and girthy and painfully hard.

He gently rubs at himself, watching you watch him. "Hmmm, next problem," he slides the paper over to you.

"Right, of course." You take the paper and try to focus on the problem as your eyes consistently slide back towards him as he strokes himself slowly.

"I don't mind if you look" He rubs his thumb over the slit and the tip of his cock spreading the precum around the head.

Your entire face flushes with heat. "I wasn't, ummm." You look back at the problem trying to work it out. You feel like you are writing hieroglyphics, as if you have never seen these symbols before.

"Well, that's incorrect, sorry." Michael grins happily as he waits for you to remove your final article of clothing.

"I can't. I can't expose that. " You nervously rub your palms against your thighs.

"How about we just do this?" Michael leans forward and slides your panties to the side.

Your eyes go wide, and you make a loud gulping sound.

"That's not so bad, is it?" Michael runs a finger up your slit feeling the obvious wetness there. "From what I gather, you seem to be enjoying this"

He collects some of your slick and brings it up to your pearl, drawing slow circles around the nerve.

"Oh!" You instantly close your eyes. You have touched yourself before. Something you would always pray for forgiveness for right after, but this felt different. Micheal's large finger and course fingertip make the sensation more intense, and your body instantly reacts, wanting more.

"Ahh." You breathe out as Michael applies more pressure to your bud, increasing the speed at which he applies that pressure.

Michael leans forward, completely kissing up the side of your neck. "It's ok. I won't tell anyone."

"I .... I have to remain chaste. " You moan as he slides a finger into you while holding the pressure down on your bud.

"There are things we can do without....... breaking the seal..... just relax, " He whispers into your ear as he continues sliding his finger against your walls.

You feel the pleasure building up in your lower stomach and instinctually spread your legs wider.

"That's it, good girl, I'm going to make you feel really good, ok?"

Your head rolls back as the pressure continues to build, the guilt in your mind losing to the pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Micheal moves his thumb quickly against your clit and pushes against the spongey spot inside your walls and sends you into a tailspin.

"Oh, Michael! Michael!" You gasp as the pressure in your stomach pulls taught, threatening to snap at any moment.

"I got you, let go for me, beautiful." As he whispers these words into your ear, the band snaps.

"Ahhhh, Mich-" You can't get the words out as your jaw goes slack and your entire body vibrates.

Michael continues his movements while you ride out your high, only pulling his hand away once you whimper at the overstimulation.

Michael takes your juices and rubs them on his cock as he slowly strokes himself. "That was glorious, you look so pretty when you cum"

You watch him touch himself with curiosity. "I can teach you more than maths." he says suddenly as he increases the pace of his movements.

"Come here." He motions you toward him, and like a puppet on a string, you go to him. You have already gone this far. What is stopping you now?

"Get on your knees." You quickly comply, dropping to your knees before him.

"Good, think you are going to learn this much quicker" He brings the weeping head of his cock to your lips.

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip you had heard of oral sex before. Kind of had a decent idea of what it entailed.

Michael groans. "Open up and flip your lips over your teeth."

You follow his instructions and he slides his cock into your mouth pushing past your lips. "Good, good, breath through your nose."

He grips the hair at the top of your head slowly dragging you forward pushing more of his cock into your mouth.

"Use your tongue beautiful" He sighs with pleasure as you slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So fucking good." The grip on your hair tightens as he pushes further hitting the back of your throat, earning him a gag.

"What a pretty sound," He coos as he starts to move his hips while holding your head in place.

"Just like that." His breathing gets heavier as his speed increases. "Fuck, yes. Look at me" He grunts as he starts to batter the back of your throat with his cockhead.

You look up at him with tears streaking down your face and drool slipping from your chin.

"Almost there." He wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "So pretty when you cry"

Michael grips your hair tight, pushing himself fast and hard into your throat.

"You're gonna swallow what I give you" You do your best to attempt to nod while he fucks your face, pushing himself as far as he will go, the hairs at his base coming in contact with your nose and chin.

"That's it right there...... FUCK!" Michael spurts directly into your throat. You hardly have to swallow at all.

He pulls himself out of your mouth and smiles down at you, wiping the drool off of your chin.

"Think we can call it a night, yeah?" He pulls his boxers up and collapses back in the chair a look of lazy satisfaction on his face.

"Yeah, that might be best." You wipe the tears from your face and gather your clothes.

"There are still two more days before the quiz. Come back tomorrow, and we can continue." Michael gets out of the chair and wraps his arms around you from behind, gently kissing your neck.

"I love teaching you. Tell me you'll come back tomorrow."

You blush at his words, "Yes, I'll be back tomorrow"

Micheal sees you out and watches as you walk down the hallway and disappear out of sight before going back into his room and flopping onto his bed with a contented sigh before he chuckles to himself.

"I got what Felix couldn't"

To be added to a tag list click here

#ewan mitchell verse #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x reader #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn #saltburn movie #jess fics #my smarty pants bf

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dollfaceksj · 6 months

Note

WAITING FOR CAL CHAPTER 5

today’s update is a little on the short and rushed side bc i was rlly busy today. sorry! hope u guys still like it

can’t afford love | myg (m) #5

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

you blink at him for a few moments when he says this with the straightest face ever

you respond, “you did but you just came. there’s no point in making me cum again if the reason for us having sex in the first place is already done.”

“well, yeah,” he pauses, “but i’m not just gonna unload inside you and leave you hanging. reason or not. what do you take me for?”

well

it’s true

yoongi always insisted on making you cum, whether you’d already came or not

but every thing’s different this time

“it’s okay, yoongi, really,” you say, even though him rocking his hips against yours like that just a few seconds ago had made you really look forward to cumming on his dick again

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

“are you sure?” he asks quietly as he slowly starts pulling out of you, immediately reaching for the tissues on the nightstand to clean you up to the best of his abilities with the tools he has near him

you glance down, watching how he gently wipes you clean and it makes your mouth quiver

“i asked you for clarification, y/n.”

you snap out of your trance and begin to nod your head. “yeah, i’m 100% sure.”

liar.

he sighs quietly. “okay.” he gets up from the bed and slides his boxers onto his legs before heading out the room

you stare at the ceiling for a moment, thinking about what the hell just happened

he’s back in your room with a glass of water. “here,” he says as he sets it down on your nightstand. “how are you feeling?” he strokes over your head

and you melt into his touch. “i feel great. kinda sore, though. thanks for the pounding.”

he shakes his head and gently tugs the sheets over your exposed body. “i’m sorry, it was hard to control myself.”

your brows pinch together

hard to control himself?

what is he on about???

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, sex with you again is…” he shrugs his shoulders as he starts dressing himself. “just felt like i had to show you how much i missed it.”

ohhhh

oh okay

haha

hahahaha

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

and now you don’t want him to leave 🤣

“did you?” you ask as you reach for the glass of water, bringing it to your lips and taking a small sip

he fastens his belt before sliding his shirt on. “don’t ask silly questions.”

you watch as he pats his pockets, probably making sure he’s got everything he needs

“do you want to stay?”

??????

what

what?

waht???????

“hm?”

what

did you

just do

“uh,” you blurt out

did you just ask him that for real?

“i mean,” you pause, “since we should try it up until the day i’m ovulating, i just think it’s better if we try again tomorrow and uh…” you scratch your head. “just think it’d be easier if you stayed instead of going back and forth but it’s totally up to you.”

he blinks at you a few times, clearly taken aback by the suggestion

“aren’t we moving too fast?” he jokes until he sees the scowl on your face.

“stop joking.” you sit straight up, cringing at the slick in between your thighs.

“sorry, sugar. i’m just trying to lighten the mood.” he sits on the edge of your bed.

SUGAR.

sugar.

fuck.

his go-to nickname for you all those years

you can tell he didn’t mean to say it just now

and that it just escaped his mouth without another thought

but…

you like it a lot :(

you mumble, “yeah, why do you keep doing that?”

he’s quiet for a few moments and deeply exhales as he tries to gather his thoughts

“it seems like you’re still… i don’t know. uncomfortable with being vulnerable with me.”

aaaaand here we go

you sigh quietly and take another sip. “it’s not that.”

he shrugs his shoulders, fingers fidgeting in his lap. “you’re constantly hiding yourself from me, you’re telling me to stop doing things that would make this experience more enjoyable for the both of us, you just don’t seem to be in it. i’m– i’m just trying to get you to loosen up so you can find this enjoyable instead of thinking you can’t because it’s taboo or whatever. we can have sex with the goal of having a baby whilst simultaneously enjoying it.”

ugh

fuck

and after all these years

he still knows what to say

“i understand you don’t want this to get too intimate but how can you expect me not to compliment you when you look like that?” he mumbles under his breath before turning his attention fully to you again. “i just don’t understand why the new baby can’t be made with love like jun was. i know things are different now but that’s not the new baby’s fault.”

….

wow.

you didn’t know he thought about it like that

and now you feel like a shit mother

you rub your forehead. “sorry,” you mumble, trying to find the words

you didn’t think he felt this way and you feel bad for assuming the worst about him

“it’s just that,” you pause.

you think.

you speak.

“i’m scared. that’s all.”

he slowly nods to your words. “i know you are,” he pauses. “i am too.”

sighh

you know he’s always just gonna have the perfect words ready to bury you into the ground

“come, let’s get you into the shower. i don’t feel good leaving you like this.” he gently tugs on the sheets and you feel your resolve crumbling by the second

you glance down at the sheets

the strain in your thighs makes you want to listen to your heart

“okay.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

he helps you into the shower

turns on the water

gets in with you

only lets the water touch you once it’s the right temperature

he squirts a generous amount of your body wash onto a loofah and starts scrubbing your body

and you’re confused

and not sure how to feel about it

because

his touch isn’t sexual

or romantic

it’s strangely domestic

and caring

he just genuinely wants to wash you up

and you feel guilty for thinking he’s being sneaky or something

“what’s with that look on your face?” he chuckles as he twists the soap and water out of the loofah before washing his own body

you cross your arms, staring at him in silence for a few moments.

the question you want to ask is at the tip of your tongue

you wonder if you should ask him

should you?

should you not?

to be continued.

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thesarcasticreader · 1 year

Text

PAC: THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE

These are general readings meant for entertainment purposes. You can partake in advice, but do not let it cloud your decision-making.

I do take paid readings. You can contact me for them. Make sure you have either Paypal or Gpay! DM for the price list!

(IMAGES ARE TAKEN FROM PINTEREST)

Pile 1:

Your person is very emotional or has a tendency to put family above all. It would piss you off sometimes that they give too much of themselves to others who don't deserve it but you admire this trait of theirs as well.

They are very good at keeping secrets and hiding their feelings. This is a result of being lied to very often. This trait will drive you nuts too but when you get into a relationship. People can grow and learn. Do not keep unrealistic expectations from relationships but if someone doesn't show signs of change. Talk to them and resolve the issues.

Your person is someone who will change a lot in their lifetime. They are capable of learning and growing.

This person loves cats a lot.

This person indulges in luxury quite a bit but stays within their means.

I am not seeing something about finances but this person is well-off. Not obnoxiously rich. But lives in a town with a cute two-story house that they own and have a shop where people from the town make purchases from. Very well off and can afford the best things.

Both of you are going to be from a well-off family. Affording Chanel is not all that there is in life. But I guess it helps 🥰🤣

You two are very likely to start a business together. You will end up leaving the place where you start at.

Say you live in a Town right now, you are likely to move to a bigger city to start your business with this person. For some of you, the business could revolve around event management or something to do with weddings and making wigs.

Looks like they could kill. Is a cinnamon roll.

Pile 2:

Your person was the heartbreaker of their time. This person had a bad childhood and they do not like talking about it.

Even though they say that it doesn’t bother them, it does.

They could even be in therapy for this too. And it is vital that their trust never be violated. This person needs a very emotionally stable person who is confident in them.

Your person could be argumentative too. It is one of the past influences that affected them badly. However, if they are made aware of the same. They will notice the pattern and actively try to change it.

This person is very lovely in a relationship. Their love will be displayed in their actions. It’s not always the big thing. The little ones like making sure your coffee is not too hot, shielding you from hitting your head in a corner, keeping you away from the roadside while you two are walking etc.

They are absolutely focused on you and they will do everything possible to make your life easier.

This person is very supportive and will persuade you to go after your dreams. This person is literally soulmate material. Even if their past has been jaded, they stand strong.

For this pile, I am seeing appearance more clearly. Stoic and strong build for men. Dark hair and prefers to wear a sleeveless T-shirt at home. Taller, likes going to the gym, likes coffee from a solid red cup (this was very specific for some reason), and probably has a home with ceiling-to-floor windows. Might be scared of heights.

For women, blonde to brown hair, the classic mean girl look on their face, insanely business-oriented, no bullshit attitude, people are scared of her, has a small smile, when she laughs her eyes wrinkle cutely, and black loafers

Looks like they could kill. They will!

Pile 3:

This is my sunshine pile. There is a lot of cute in here and that’s what your person is like.

This person is someone who would cuddle a raccoon. I am sorry, but that’s what came through 😂😂

They love animals and probably volunteer a lot at shelters or reduce them. If you end up dating this person, you can expect to foster a lot of animals.

This person is not all sunshine though. Life has dealt them a tough hand but they have persevered.

A lot of Fire and Water Energy in this pile. This has to be the happiest Scorpio pile I or most people have ever seen 😂😂

This person has a lot of energy. I know who this pile reminds me of. There is this girl on YouTube, Mikayla from SaveAFox. If you don’t know the channel. Go there right now. Get your immediate serotonin boost that even Masturbation can’t bring (I just had to) 😂😂

This is a relationship that will lead to marriage very quickly.

Your person is not concerned with material gains. They want emotional fulfilment.

This person feels like meeting an old friend after a long time. This person loves baking.

They prefer cute, handmade gifts and letters too. They are likely to give them to you as well.

Words of affirmation are their love language.

Early childhood may have included bullying in their case.

Looks like a Cinnamon Roll. Is a Cinnamon Roll.

The messages were flowing so happily and easily today. Sometimes it is so annoying that the thoughts just refuse to come to you and other days, I can basically pour myself into these readings. It is amazing afff✨🧿

IF YOU WANT MORE READINGS, YOU CAN CHECK MY INSTAGRAM: @A_sarcastic_Reader.

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janumun · 9 months

Note

Being the brand new omega roommate for alpha Alhaitham and alpha Kaveh, who were both carefully looking for a needed extra to fill in the space in their housing near Port Ormos, purely for important research purposes Alhaitham claims.

And conveniently, they were also looking for another proper lover (Preferably an omega) for their alphan pod for their upcoming ruts, both of which just so happen to be right around the corner.

Poor sensitive alpha Kaveh, and absolute buster alpha Alhaitham, are both equally slick and suave in pursuing what they desire. Once they put their mind to something none can ever stop them from achieving their appointed goal.

Kaveh is more romantically obvious than Alhaitham, but that doesn't mean Alhaitham won't have his fair share of aces up his sleeve to properly convince you to join them in their pack. And with their ruts coming up alongside the brand new omega moving in, time is short and ever increasingly fragile.

Surely you will be so kind as to aid their little predicament?

OBLIGATORY NSFW 🔞 BREAK

Before we dive pussy first into this, I’ll have you know that your Ask was what took me out of commission for this long, Nonny. I had to sink back into the sofa and just stare into space for the next several weeks. 🤣

While I would’ve really loved to write something more cohesive for this (I am so, so insane for the ABO AU), the ideas I had would’ve ended up spanning a multi chapter fic, which I simply could not afford to work on, at the moment xD You are so ✨big-brained✨ for this, though!

If you’ve read a couple of my stories, you might’ve noticed I prefer romance dashed spice over hot, sweaty, sexy spice (very good on you if you prefer the latter!).

I’m currently working on a story where Traveler (/my MC) lives with the Akademiya duo and part of their dynamic might be reflected in these few headcanons I’ve got for Alpha Hai/Ω Reader/Alpha Kaveh.

I cannot believe this is nearly 1k words of ABO thirst because I simply hold no control over myself.

Al-Haitham’s fond of you. It isn’t quite what he intended — nor the direction he intended it in — when he divulged the fact that he was interested in you.

Perhaps, it is your unconventional ideologies, only on par with Kaveh’s naivety, or perhaps the way you seem to have Kaveh so domesticated (he was at Al-Haitham’s ear for weeks for daring to point out how the two of you seemed to get on like a house on fire, worded perhaps in less kinder terms) it’s an amusing sight to witness.

Or your unwitting genius, when you come across Al-Haitham on days he’s going through new texts, and strike up a debate regarding the contents of the author’s mindset and the degree and quality of said research.

He isn’t quite as obvious as Kaveh; ready with his smiles and clear affections worn across his sleeve.

…Nor is he quite as lacking as his former friend in self-discipline, when it comes to reigning in his instincts as an Alpha. Finding himself against you at the weakest callings of an approaching rut, or the siren call of your heats. Al- Haitham supposes you too are to blame, for spoiling Kaveh as you do; you never turn the man down and try as Kaveh might, to be a gentleman and spare you, it is always you giving him the go-ahead to fuck you as he pleases, wherever…

And later on, whenever—

His ruts are close at hand, Kaveh finds it physically intolerable to have you close and not bury his entire body into yours, threading his limbs about your body and sinking his face into the soft heat of your breasts.

He started off gentle and slow at the beginning of your arrangement, and he remained determined to follow through his resolve to relieve himself on your scent alone. The idea of tackling you down like some sort of… beast every time a rut hit, seeking you out for mere physical relief — despite your arrangement — didn’t sit right in his heart.

But you are a curious and fascinating creature, and Kaveh did not quite bet on being as infatuated with you as he is; you seem almost crafted to complete a whole of him. And you are… unfortunately, incredibly persistent.

And—

Incredibly tight, he gasps. When Kaveh finds himself buried up to the hilt within you, he’s blind to all sense except the feeling of your wet heat, the burn of pleasure streaking up his length and knotting into his abdomen with the force and desperation of his thrusts. Close, the need to have you closer burning at the back of his throat and gnawing with the bite of bitter teeth into the swell of his lip.

“K-Kaveh.” Before you scold, and he complies, immediate; love-stricken, lust-driven, clenching his teeth into a bite at your shoulder and moans deep and long, mirroring the intensity of his release into you.

Nosing at that spot against your neck in post coital euphoria and overwhelming protection. Uncharacteristic burst of an intolerable instinct to bite into you and mark you his.

When Kaveh and Al-Haitham have their ruts coincide on the rare occasion—

The Scribe does not shy away from availing his privilege of several days of paid leave, off his roster of scarcely used holidays, when his ruts are near carnal, and certainly not when they happen to fall upon the same cycles as Kaveh’s (perhaps a natural result of bonding with the same omega). He needs the entirety of a 24/7 workday and more, when he is forced to share your body, pleasure and time with Kaveh. The latter not ceasing to whine and huff, even as he moans at Al-Haitham about positioning her right, going slower so she can concentrate on us both.

Taunts usually he answers with silence, or on occasion, when Kaveh is unbearably loud,

“Perhaps you aren’t pleasing her as well as you seem to think yourself able, if you believe she cannot concentrate simply because I am “harsh” on her.” Punctuating his statement with a particularly firm thrust, your quivering moan breaking along with Kaveh’s fumed sputtering.

Your tightening, at the punishing pace Al-Haitham sets for you both, dragging their orgasms from the Alphas at the same time, flooding you to the brim with their hot seed. Their knots traveling up and lodging into your pussy undoing your own vehement release from how large the stretch is, all of a sudden, and you see stars as you collapse against Al-Haitham, his low grunt burning at your ears from how incredibly hot you find him, so undone inside you.

Squeezing around them on instinct, pulling a collective groan from the two men. Al-Haitham raises his head, his gaze inspiring a fresh wave of nervous anticipation inside you, from how he looks at you as if he has no intentions of stopping until he has you well and truly bred. A man of spare words but the intensity of his lust and emotions once unstoppered, is enough to have your legs aching for days after.

A shudder creeping up your body from where he treks a gentle thumb against your cheek and just before he kisses you, a whisper of one, “Well done,” has your heart soaring within your chest.

And if Kaveh’s soft brushes of kisses against the crown of your shoulders, venturing just shy of your glands, is anything to go by, you know he too, is far from done yet.

#asks #anonymous #genshin impact kaveh #genshin impact al haitham #al haitham smut #kaveh smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin kaveh x reader smut #genshin al haitham x reader smut #GI kaveh #ns/fw #janulogue

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karahalloway · 3 months

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper greets the world as the new Duchess of Valtoria, but that is not the only newsworthy item that rocks the Apple Harvest Festival...

Word Count: 7,300

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Things are slowly coming to a head! Thanks for bearing with me on this series - I know I have a lot of other projects in the works, so I have not been updating as much as I probably should. But, we are finally getting to the exciting parts (as if what's happened until now hasn't been exciting 🤣) as after this chapter, we are into the meat of the engagement tour, and all the juicy plot changes that I have been wanting to write for over a year will finally come to a fore! *evil laugh*

A/N2: If you have not heard of TURN - the TV show from which I borrowed the chapter theme song - then, I can highly recommend it (especially if you like historical dramas, US history (specifically the Revolutionary War period), or just really good story-telling)!

A/N3: This is also much submission for @choicesjanuary2024 Day 12: Smiles / Secret

Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden

"Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, nervously pulling at the high-necked strip of emerald lace that circles my throat.

"Stop fiddling!" Bertrand berates, slapping my hand away. "We are running late as it, and we cannot afford to lose any more time to last minute touch-ups!"

"Yeah, but—"

"You look great, Harper," Maxwell assures me with a beaming smile. "Marcie did a great job."

The petite make-up artist that the Beaumonts had procured out of thin air bobs a curtsy to my right. "It was my pleasure, Your Grace."

Her words hit me like a whiplash.

Your Grace.

My new form of address. One I'm not sure I'm ever going to get used to. Lady Harper had been one thing, but that had always felt like a curtesy. A temporary formality that had been extended to me by virtue of my sponsorship by the Beaumonts during the social season.

But there is nothing temporary about my current situation. The weight of the ring on my hand — and its implications — bears down heavily on my finger... and my thoughts. Especially since I still haven't found a moment alone with Drake to finish our conversation from this morning... or bring him up to speed on my new status.

Because no sooner had my ennoblement been sealed with the very expensive — and very potent — champagne, than the Beaumonts had shown back up (somewhat mercifully) to crash Christian's surprise party.

And from there it had been a whirlwind of hair, makeup and outfitting for the all-important Apple Harvest Festival where I am due to make my grand debut as the new Duchess of Valtoria.

A position of some importance — Bertrand has stressed, multiple times — given that in addition to the impressive estate that I am now the official caretaker of, I also have a seat on the infamous Council, as well as a seat on the even more exclusive Privy Council. Not to mention my own fleet of staff, vehicles, bank accounts, and carefully curated online profiles.

Which is why — on top of everything — the ever-industrious press corps have worked at record speed to throw the fruits of yesterday's labours together into an exclusive, twelve-page spread as part of a special edition of Trend magazine, which dropped this morning.

And while I haven't actually had a chance to read through the copy that currently sits on the coffee table of my room (together with every other major national and international news publication), Maxwell has assured me that the social media reactions have — so far — been positive. The snaps of my stress-fuelled efforts at yesterday's apple pick have apparently helped.

Which means that Jonathan's PR gamble is starting to pay dividends, and I now have a public image to maintain. Not just for myself, but for Cordonia as well. Because when I step outside today, I'll be representing everything that the kingdom under Christian's burgeoning rule is striving to be — beauty, modernity, opportunity.

Definitely not the best day to wake up with a litany of awkwardly situated bruises!

Thankfully, both Maxwell and Bertrand seem to have had a chance to pull themselves together after this morning's surprising (and definitely explosive!) turn of events, and — after the initial shock — have set about covering for mine and Drake's mess with the same coordinated precision that they employed to pull the Beaumont Bash out of their butts.

With the result that they somehow managed to transform me from the black and blue disaster I woke up as, into the picture of a polished and refined lady.

I glance apprehensively out at the bright sunshine blanketing the hills. Hopefully, the carefully applied window-dressing survives the literal trial by fire it's about to be subjected to. Because just like yesterday, the temperature is set to climb into the mid-90's today as well, which means I'll most likely end up sweating buckets again, thanks to the Edwardian nature of my dress's neckline.

And what I definitely don't need today is for all the blush and cover-up getting smudged away so that everyone at the event can start speculating about the intimate placement of my of hickeys!

I close my eyes wearily. God, I can't wait for all this to be over...

"No catnaps!" snaps Bertrand, slapping a wide-brimmed hat onto my head. "The people are waiting on us!"

I barely have time to grab my matching clutch before the Beaumonts are whisking me out of my room and down the length of the corridor towards the manor's lawn.

"Surely the Festival can start without us...!" I gasp as I stumble after Bertrand in my heels.

"No, it cannot," he reprimands. "All members of the Council must be present for the ceremonial tree planting."

I frown. "Tree planting? Isn't that a little... agrarian for the aristos?"

"It is a time-honoured tradition!" corrects Bertrand. "Cordonia owes its existence and livelihood to the noble Ruby, so it is the duty of the Council to ensure that the fruits of our bounty are secured for future generations! Hence, the requirement to plant new saplings at the end of each harvest!"

"If you say so..." I concede as we pass through the back doors of the manor.

Based on what I saw at the apple pick, Bertrand's pronouncement seems optimistic at best, given that none of the aristos even bothered to lift a finger to a tree yesterday.

But, looks can always be deceiving, so maybe today is the day that the I am pleasantly surprised for once.

A deafening cheer erupts as the Beaumonts and I step out onto the manor's steps.

Snapping my head towards the source of the commotion, I see what appears to be thousands of people crammed behind velvet-lined cordons, screaming and jostling for position like they're in the front row of a Taylor Swift concert...

...and it takes me a second to realise that it's my name that they're shouting.

"Duchess!"

"Lady Harper, we love you!"

"You're the true Apple Queen, no matter what anyone says!"

"Wow..." I blink, taken aback by the fervency of the crowd's reaction. "I didn't realise I had such a rabid following..."

"Best wave to them," suggests Maxwell, leaning in as he raises his arm into the air with a wide smile.

"Okay..." I concede hesitantly, turning to the crowd to do the same.

The last time I experienced anything remotely like this had been on the red carpet at the Derby — my first public outing as a suitor. But even the bright flash of the cameras and the intrusive questions that the reporters had flung at me paled in comparison to the reaction I am receiving today.

Phones and cameras are thrust into the air as the Beaumonts and I descend the manor's stairs to the accompaniment of the increasingly frenzied cheers and shouts of encouragement. Even a few bouquets of flowers fly through the air, narrowly missing my hat.

And I can't help but smile in the face of the genuine outpouring of support from the crowd. Because it sure as heck feels good to be on top for once!

However, arriving at the edge of the orchard where the tree planting ceremony is due to take place, I am greeted by a very different type of welcome.

Snooty expressions drip down the ends of aristocratic noses as the members of the Council pass silent judgment on my somewhat bombastic entrance.

"They're just jealous," Maxwell whispers to me as we take up our spots at the edge of the gathering.

"Yeah..." I agree with a stilted voice. "That's what I'm worried about."

I know firsthand of the lengths that these people are willing to go to in order to exact vengeance for perceived slights. And I did not particularly feel like painting a target on my back a second time while I am still trying to recover from the hurt caused by the first.

Maybe this is a mistake...

But I don't have time to think on it long, because the public erupts into an even more deafening outburst as Christian appears with Madeleine on his arm.

"Look at her..." snips a voice from behind me. "Acting like she's Queen already."

I whip around in disbelief. "Olivia!"

The Duchess of Lythikos cuts her green eyes over at me with a derisive look. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harper. Just because you are now a duchess, does not mean that the rest of us have taken early retirement."

"Trust me," I grumble under my breath, "this was not the plan."

"Opportunities multiply as they are seized," she replies sagely.

I quirk a brow at her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she expounds surly, "opportunity breeds opportunity. And only by exploiting every advantage will you uncover previously hidden gains. Do they not teach The Art of War inyour schools?"

"No..."

She scoffs under her breath. "Explains a lot."

I roll my eyes at her as Christian and Madeleine pause on the steps for photos and a couple of quick sound bites. "I guess this means your sabbatical was productive?"

"Exceedingly."

I heave a breath. "At least one of us is making progress..."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short," she counters out of the corner of her mouth. "Your recent advancements have served as a welcome distraction..."

"Not sure if that’s a compliment, or not..." I admit sourly.

"You have more power than you realise," she insists quietly. "Make sure you use it."

"Wow..." I mutter, glancing over at her in genuine surprise. "Friendly advice from the Scarlet Duchess? What else have you learnt during your time away?"

"Our interests are temporarily aligned, nothing more," she replies, shooting daggers across the lawn towards Madeleine. "And I'll fill you in shortly."

"Well, it's good to have you back, regardless," I say with a dip of my head. "Your Grace."

Olivia shoots me a sidelong look. "Don't get sentimental on me, Duchess."

But I can see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Christian and Madeleine arrive at the edge of the trees. Stepping up to the row of waiting saplings, Christian pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket and delivers a short speech to the click of the cameras.

As the mandatory applause dies down, he slots the pieces of paper carefully away... and pulls off his jacket.

"What are you doing?" hisses Madeleine as the crowd descends into a hubbub of excited reactions.

"Taking a leaf out of the Duchess of Valtoria's book," he replies, handing his jacket off to the closest shocked Councillor as he sets about rolling up his sleeves.

"Out of—!" Madeleine bristles in indignation, while trying to maintain an outwardly calm composure. "The only thing you have taken is leave of your senses! Now get back here and—!"

Ignoring his fiancée's outburst, Christian grabs the ribbon-bedecked shovel out of the hands of the footman that was holding it, and steps up to a clear patch of grass. Adjusting his grip on the handle, he digs the metal blade decisively into the ground to the accompanying slew of clicking camera shutters.

"Shall we?" asks Olivia with a sly smirk as she pushes her way to the front of the line of gawping nobles.

"Let's," I agree, instantly catching onto her plan.

"Lady Harper!" hisses Bertrand from behind me. "What do you think you're—?"

"Lending a hand to the King," I throw back over my shoulder as I step to the front of the row of aristos who are looking mutely onto the sight of their monarch working up an actual sweat before them.

Grabbing another shovel from the pile in the corner — these ones obviously having seen some honest work already, judging by the dirt encrusted on their faces — I join the King of Cordonia in enlarging the hole in the ground.

Because regardless of Christian's underlying motives for ennobling me, and whatever his broader game may be, what he is doing right now is bigger than me, bigger than him, bigger than any of us. And that deserves recognition. Especially when he is taking such active — and public — strides towards being the change he wants to see unfurl during his rule. Where the ruling class doesn't just offer empty platitudes and hollow ceremony, but actually practices what it preaches. So, what better way to do that, than by planting the seeds of change in front of thousands of people in the literal heart of the kingdom?

Christian rewards my arrival with a nod and a smile as I take up position next to him.

Hefting my shovel, I slice it into the earth that he's already uncovered, using the somewhat flimsy sole of my heeled sandals to drive it deeper.

Scooping the blade back out, I suddenly feel a presence to my left. Looking up, I see that Maxwell has also joined our impromptu work crew.

Throwing me a wink, he drops his shovel in next to mine.

With the three of us working on tandem, it takes us almost no time at all to dig out a hole large enough to house the new apple tree.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead — the weatherman had not lied, that's for sure! — I see that Olivia, with some assistance from Hana, has already prepared the sapling by shunting it closer to the hole and removing the burlap covering from its roots.

Laying down our shovels, we help her manoeuvre the tree to the edge of the dint. Cheers and applause rise up from the onlookers as the sapling thuds into the earth. Olivia uses one of the knives from her hidden arsenal to slice off the twines holding the branches together, and the tree unfurls itself with a satisfied snap.

"Your Majesty!" shouts a reporter, who I recognise as Frederick Capone. "One for the Cordonian Times, if you please!"

"And for the CBS!" adds Donald Brine, muscling his way to the front.

"Certainly," accedes Christian graciously, holding his arm out. "It was a group effort, after all."

We all gather in — sweaty and dirty, but smiling — as the press corps immortalises the scene...

...and I innocuously sweep my hair over my shoulder in a vain effort to try and hide any bruises that may have become uncovered as a result of the unplanned exertion.

"Thank you for joining me in my moment of impulsivity," Christian acknowledges softly as the bulbs flash.

"Please," scoffs Olivia out of the side of her mouth. "It was coordinated from the start."

"The people don't seem to mind," counters Hana with a demure smile as she faces the cameras.

"With the exception of about half-dozen," I note, glancing back at the disgruntled looks of the Councillors from behind us, as they try to save face by applauding our efforts together with the rest of the crowd.

"They'll fall in line." Christian assures me as he lifts his hand with a wave.

I feel a prick between my shoulder blades. Turning my head, I catch sight of the cold fire radiating out of Madeleine's gaze from behind the mask of her perfect smile.

"Maybe not everyone..." I mutter under my breath as I turn back towards the paps.

I'm already on Madeleine's shit list for daring to return to court after my very public humiliation and banishment. On the night of her engagement tour launch party, no less! So, the fact that I ended up upstaging her — again — probably means that I've sunk even further down the ladder of her estimations.

To what end, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to start being more careful from here on out.

Once the press are finally placated, we disperse across the lawn in search of some much-needed refreshments.

"Harper!"

I swallow a groan as I'm brought up short, mere steps from the freshly squeezed, rosemary-infused lemonade that I desperately need after toiling away in this heat. "What now, Bertrand...?"

"I... uhm..." He clears his throat as I turn to face him. "I wanted to apologise for my earlier outburst. It was unseemly... and in retrospect, short-sighted."

"What do you mean?" I ask with a frown. Bertrand very rarely — if ever! — apologised.

"The public reaction to the tree planting has been overwhelming," he clarifies, pulling his phone out.

My eyes bulge as I take in the view count on the screen. "A hundred thousand views already!"

"And counting," Bertrand adds. "And that is only one website."

"And look at the comments!" I exclaim, scrolling through the feed. "They're loving Maxwell as well!"

"Yes, it appears that my brother has a keener instinct for media relations than I do..."

"You should tell him that," I say. "It would mean the world to him."

Bertrand looks momentarily taken aback. "I... Well..." He clears his throat again. "Yes. Maybe I will. He deserves some recognition for his efforts in diverting — at least temporarily — the negative attention away from our financial predicaments."

"A simple hug and a 'thank-you' will do," I tell him with a knowing look.

Bertrand reels back in abject horror. "I will not subject my brother to such a sordid display of affection! Especially in public!"

I heave a sigh. "And there's your problem, right th—"

I trail off as I spot a familiar figure signalling to me from over Bertrand's shoulders.

"Excuse me," I say, palming Bertrand's phone back to him as I move towards one of the marquees that had been set up at the edge of the lawn.

Slipping inside the flap of the tent, I come face-to-face with Ana de Luca.

"Your Grace," she nods, dipping into a curtesy, something she hasn't deigned to do before. "Thank you for making the time."

"Ana," I nod in return, wondering why the influential editor of Trend chose to pull me away for a private meeting. Especially after I cornered her so forcefully at Madeleine's garden party a few days ago.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," she continues, straightening back up. "Since returning to court you have managed to elevate yourself not just in rank, but in the eyes of the public as well. Rolling your sleeves up in tandem with the King was a masterful piece of image enhancement."

"I didn't do it for myself," I reply evenly.

"Of course," she nods quickly. "We must all step in line with our new King. But your reputation is certainly reaping the benefits as well."

"As is your bottom line," I point out.

"Your initiative is markedly boosting sales of this month's special edition, as well as traffic to our website," she concedes. "For which Trend is very grateful. But that is not the reason I pulled you aside."

"What is it then?"

"I found out the name of the photographer," she replies, reaching into her handbag.

I feel my heart jump in my chest. "You're joking..."

She raises a brow at me from behind the lenses of her black-out Versace shades as she pulls a small flash-drive out. "I can assure you that I am not."

I quickly pull myself back together. "No. Of course not..."

Handing the drive over, she adds. "On there you will find all the pertinent information I was able to obtain through my own means."

"Thank you," I say sincerely, taking the piece of plastic from her. "I honestly was not expecting this..."

She shrugs an elegant shoulder. "I said I would look into it, so I did. It is not much, but I am sure you have people who can hopefully take it further."

"I do," I affirm, slotting the device into my clutch.

"After all," she adds with a knowing quirk to her lips. "You are not the only one with a vested interest in seeing your name cleared, Your Grace."

With another quick bob, she exits the marquee.

I let out a low exhale as the tent flap drops back into place in her wake. "Thank God..."

Some much-needed progress at last!

Hopefully, Drake can take the information from the drive and do a deep dive into the photographer to see if they ever crossed paths with whoever it is that has it in for me.

Which reminds me...

Opening my clutch up again, I pull my phone out and type up a quick message to my elusive boyfriend.

I haven't seen or heard from him since the event started. And now I have two pieces of critical information I need to share with him. So, rather than chasing after him like some damsel in distress, I'm going to make him come to me for a change. Because time is of the essence, and I don't want to wait.

Hitting send, I exit the tent and head back towards the orchard. I figure that since everyone is on the lawn, the secluded garden hidden amongst the trees will give me and Drake the best chance to meet in private, away from the prying eyes of the court and the press.

Slipping between the tree trunks, I try to make my way as casually as possible through the orchard, as if I am simply out for a walk, in order to ward off potential suspicion. But, as I drift further away from the Festival, I start to pick up the pace, mindful of the short timeframe I gave Drake... as well as the exposed roots on the ground.

Because as much as I might want to hurry, I definitely don't want — or need — a twisted ankle the day before we're due to start the international leg of the trip. As Mom was right — I should take advantage of the upcoming whirlwind tour of Europe to at least try and get some sightseeing in. As who knows when I'll get the chance to do this again...

...especially if I'm forced to become a hermit because we fail to expose the mastermind behind the press scandal.

I shake my head. No. I need to stay positive. It's the only way I'm going to get through—

"Competing with a herd of elephants, Gale?"

I snap my gaze up at the sound of Drake's voice... and nearly trip over a hidden apple lodged in the grass.

"You try sneaking ‘round in four-inch heels," I grumble back at him, while using the trunk of a nearby tree to steady myself.

He mutters something under his breath as he steps over to me with an outstretched hand. "Here."

Grabbing his hand, I navigate gingerly away from the tree, only to find that the slightly rotten fruit has become impaled on the end of my stiletto.

"Great..." I groan, trying to flick the stupid thing off... But it stays stubbornly stuck.

"You're a walking disaster, y'know that, right?" drawls Drake as he drops down in front of me.

"Ha-ha, funny," I snark back at him while trying to balance on one foot on the uneven ground.

He meets my eye with a wry look as he finally manages to pull the offending fruit off with a squelch. "You're only gripin' 'cause it's true."

"Yeah, well, not all of us have... reflexes... like Neo..." I reply sardonically as I save myself from tipping over by grabbing onto Drake's shoulder.

He stifles a scoff as he tosses the apple into the trees. "You good?"

"Yeah," I confirm, righting myself again and letting go of his shirt.

Drake regards me critically for a long moment — as if expecting me to keel over again at the drop of a hat — before pushing himself up.

"Thanks," I say, laying an appreciative hand on his arm.

The humour fades from his gaze at the contact.

"Drake..." I start...

...but he's already pulled away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, not quite meeting my eyes as he slots his hands into his pockets, the momentary lightness of our previous interaction gone.

I heave a breath.

We really need to talk about what happened this morning. But his suddenly standoffish demeanour makes it clear that he's not quite ready for that yet.

So, I decide to start with something less contentious.

"We have a lead on the photographer," I tell him, reaching into my clutch.

His head perks up with interest. "That was fast."

"Teamwork makes the dream work," I agree with a smile, pulling the flash drive back out and holding it out to him.

His posture suddenly stiffens. "The hell is that?"

I glance around me uncertainly. "What?"

"The fucking ring on your finger," he declares dispassionately, his accusatory gaze scorching into my outstretched hand.

My heart drops. Oh, no...

This is not how I wanted to break it to him. But unfortunately for both of us, the cat has now ripped itself out of the proverbial bag, so I'm just going to have to scamper after it.

Taking a steadying inhale, I look him square in the eye. "It's my new signet ring." I turn my hand over to show it to him.

His face darkens. "Fils de pute de—" he grits under his breath, snapping a hand out to grab my wrist.

My eyes widen. "Drake, what are y—?"

A storm is raging in his espresso gaze. "Signet rings go on the little finger. On the right hand."

"Oh," is all I can manage as he swipes the golden band off my left ring finger.

"You didn't know, did you?" he asks softly, reaching for my other hand... more gently this time.

I shake my head with a constricted throat. "No, I—"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

My head jerks ‘round at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

"I see you couldn't resist a somewhat impulsive stroll through the orchards, either?" he asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "The scent of apples is truly luscious this time of year."

"Erm... yes...!" I manage to squeak out, shoving my right hand behind my back. "Smells like apple juice!"

Christian's brow quivers ever so slightly at my slightly random — and obviously unexpected — comparison.

But I'm too busy coordinating with Drake to get the signet ring shoved back onto my hand while trying to palm the flash drive off to him without dropping either in the process. As both outcomes would lead to some very awkward conversations!

I feel the warmth of the metal slide onto the index finger of my hand (Drake had probably ascertained that the circumference of the band was too large for my pinky), and I'm finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Embarrassing backpedaling, narrowly averted!

Drake uses the opportunity to extract the flash drive from my hand as well, dropping the device casually into his pocket as he moves beside me. "She ain't wrong."

"No," concedes Christian, eying the two of us for a second longer than strictly comfortable. "She rarely is."

"So, umm... Are you hiding from the paps as well?" I ask in a bid to diffuse the growing tension in the air.

"No, I came looking for you, actually," he corrects, taking a step forward. "I saw you slip into the orchard, and thought it prudent to follow you."

"Oh?" I say, feeling my stomach tighten again. "Worried I might get lost?"

"I was hoping to catch you alone," he corrects, coming to a stop in front of me.

I swallow tightly as I see him glance over at Drake.

Please don't fight... Please don't fight...

Christian's gaze reverts to me. "But I suppose it is convenient for Drake to happen to be here as well."

My heart skips an uncomfortable beat. "It is?"

"Yes," he affirms. "I have received some news that you'll both be interested in hearing."

"Well, don't keep us in damn suspense, then..." mutters Drake with a noticeable edge to his voice.

I try to reach discretely out to brush my fingers against his, to reassure him that come what may, we'll get through it together, that—

"We found Tariq."

Christian's words hit me like a kick to the chest. The breath explodes out of me so forcefully that I am actually forced to take a step back in a bid to maintain my balance as the apple trees descend into a spin around me.

No way...

"Where?"

Drake's voice floats across the edge of my awareness. And even in my spaced-out state, I can feel the weight of the cold, calculated fury infused into that single word.

No corner... No mercy.

"Dubai," replies Christian, who also sounds like he's miles away. "He—"

But Drake's already spun away. "Send me the coordinates."

"Harper?"

I blink up at Christian in a daze. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" he asks, laying a concerned hand on my cheek. "You... You looked as if you were about to faint..."

"I..." I swallow past the sudden dryness in my throat. "I'm okay."

"Are you certain?" he presses, peering down at me. "I could ring for a doctor, and—"

"No," I insist, pulling away from him. "I'm fine. I... I guess I just got caught off-guard..."

"It is an unexpected development, certainly," he concedes. "But hopefully still a welcome one?"

"Yes!" I blurt out. "Of course! I want to clear my name more than anyone, and Tariq is key to that! I just..." My voice trails uncertainly off.

Christian flashes me a knowing half-smile. "Feel some trepidation about the prospect...?"

"I guess so," I concede, my fingers moving unconsciously to the horseshoe charm at my wrist.

Because as much as I may want Tariq to pay for what he did from a rational point of view, from an emotional standpoint, I’m terrified.

As even though I know in the back of my mind that a lot of my trepidation has to do with the fact that I am still trying to recover from the psychological trauma that Tariq inflicted on me, a major part of me is also scared of what setting the record straight would entail in practice.

Christian had mentioned that there were 'methods of persuasion' that could be used to force a confession from Tariq. But then what? Would I be made to very publicly relive the entire horrible episode in the form of TV spots and interviews, or would we be able to get by with one official press release? And given my spotty history with the press, will people actually believe my side of the story...?

I mean, Meghan and Harry didn’t exactly fare well in the court of public opinion when they tried to counter the official royal narrative...

On top of all that, in light of my very visceral reactions to returning to Applewood, I have no idea how I'm going to react to seeing Tariq in person again. Would I burst into tears? Have a nervous breakdown? Dissolve into a panic attack? Stab him in the gut and then the nuts?

And (possibly worst of all) what if we discover that Tariq had been acting alone? And his attack on me — while traumatising — is in no way connected to the larger, and definitely more dangerous plot to remove me from the running for Queen? What then...?

"Your qualms are not as misplaced as you may initially think," Christian consoles. "It is a daunting prospect to face the person who actively sought to harm you."

Something in his tone catches my attention. "What do you mean?"

Christian heaves a sigh. "I do not know if you are aware of this, but several years ago, I was the target of an assassination attempt."

I nod tightly. "Yes. Drake told me."

"Then I presume he also told you how deeply the experience affected me," he says, catching my eye with an uncharacteristically guarded look.

"Yes," I affirm, thinking back to the conversation in Olivia's wine cellar that felt like years ago.

"What he probably didn't tell you, however," he continues, "is that I visited the perpetrator in prison."

My jaw drops. "You what!"

"Not publicly and certainly not in any official capacity." He shakes his head wryly. "I did not even talk to the man."

"Then why...?"

"I... I was having trouble reconciling with what had happened," he explains. "And moving past it. The trauma councillor that I was working with suggested that it was perhaps because I was subconsciously endowing the gunman with too much power, and thereby transmuting the man into something more akin to an evil monster."

A shiver runs down my spine at Christian's words. It's like he's talking about Tariq...

"So, to help break the negative emotional associations I had built up, my councillor arranged a clandestine meeting where I would have the opportunity to face the man."

"How... How did that go?" I ask nervously.

"I was terrified, of course," Christian admits. "I had no idea what to expect and each scenario I imagined in my head was worse than the last. But, when I finally got into room where the meeting was to take place, I was surprised by what I saw. As rather than some hulking, shadowy fiend, it was a pale, somewhat diminutive man sat across from me."

"So… what did you do?"

"We simply sat at a table and stared at each other," he recounts. "He with more than a bit of contemptuous malice, I have to admit, but in that moment, I realised that he was a flesh-and-blood person who had fallen prey to the same misguided emotions as I — anger, fear, resentment — just manifested differently. And that helped set me onto the path of true healing. As ultimately, I was able to forgive him."

"Forgive him?" I gasp disbelievingly. "For trying to murder you?"

"Nobody acts in isolation," Christian advises calmly. "Even the most unconscionable horrors perpetrated by the villains of humanity — torture, mass murder, genocide — sprout from the basis of an emotional or psychological motivator such as love, fear, greed, jealousy... to name but a few. So, while we may disagree with and condemn the action retrospectively from the safety of the moral high-ground, it is very possible that had we found ourselves in a similar situation, we would end up being just as guilty as the person we are looking to condemn."

"So, what?" I demand testily. "I should feel sorry for Tariq for what he did to me?"

"Showing empathy and compassion towards our counterparts does not mean forgetting or excusing the harm suffered," counsels Christian. "But it will certainly allow you to start on the path of true healing."

I shake my head as I turn away. "I'm not sure Tariq deserves that..."

"It is by no means an easy assignment," he admits, laying a hand on my shoulder. "But even if you cannot find it in your heart presently to forgive him, do at least try to keep yourself open to the possibility down the line. You may be surprised by the results."

Looking up, I can see that there is sincerity welling on his emerald gaze. And — for once — I don't doubt the true intent of his words. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

"As diplomatic as ever," he smiles, the tips of his fingers brushing down my back as he drops his hand. "And, regardless of what you choose to do, I'll be right by your side to support you."

"Thanks," I mutter with what I hope is a genuine smile, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that with Drake’s abrupt departure, it’s just me and Christian amongst the trees. Taking a step back towards the way I’d come, I ask, "So, umm... How did you end up finding him?"

"Instagram," replies Christian with a wry chuckle as he falls into step beside me.

My head snaps up in bewilderment. "He posted his whereabouts?"

"No," he laughs, looping my arm through his in reassurance. "Not intentionally, at any rate. He took shelter on his cousin's yacht docked off the coast of the Palm Jumeirah, and—"

"What's that?" I ask with a frown.

"One of a trio of artificially constructed archipelagos located off the coast of Dubai," he explains. "They are so called for their shape, which resemble stylised palm trees."

"Sounds... fancy," I admit, while trying to maintain some semblance of platonic distance between the two of us.

"They really are a sight to behold," he affirms, pulling me back to his side. "But it is part of the reason why we were not able to locate him initially — we knew he has family in the Emirates, of course, but—"

"He does?" I interject in surprise. This is certainly news to me...!

"Yes," he nods. "His father is a Cordonian nobleman, but his mother hails from the House of Al Falasi, the branch of the Bani Yas tribe that also produced Dubai's ruling family."

My eyes widen. "So, his mom is royalty?"

"No," chuckles Christian. "She is not directly connected to the Al Maktoum dynasty. But her family is nevertheless influential in the region. Which is why when we hit a roadblock with the French authorities, we decided to focus our efforts on countries where we knew he had familial or business connections. The Emirates, however, boast a multitude of private airfields, not to mention water-based ports of entry, so attempting to narrow down Tariq’s possible time and method of arrival and determining where he went from there was providing to be a complex undertaking. Especially since we had to ensure to conduct our enquiries outside of the official channels."

"Specifically, via social media," I supply dryly.

"Yes," confirms Christian, only half jokingly. "When we realised that Tariq must have switched off or changed out his phone, Drake suggested that we set up a facial recognition-based search algorithm that could scour the various social media and news portals in a bid to help us pinpoint his exact location."

"That sounds... technical," I admit.

"A few years ago, it would have been, But the technology is relatively commonplace now, thankfully."

"So, you managed to get a hit?"

"Yes," he affirms. "One of his cousins on his mother's side posted a selfie featuring his new yacht a couple of days ago... and someone who partially matched Tariq's features was visible on the edge of the frame. But it wasn't until this morning that our man on the ground was able to obtain independent confirmation that it really was him."

"Wow..." I manage. "Talk about blind, dumb luck."

"Never underestimate the awesome power of serendipity," counsels Christian with a smile as we reach the edge of the trees again. "It certainly played a hand in crossing our paths."

I swallow nervously. "Yeah, I—"

"You have some nerve!"

Before I have a chance to realise what is happening, Madeleine has swooped in from seemingly out of nowhere to intercept us with all the wrathful precision of a homing missile.

"Ow!" I hiss, feeling the ends of her manicured nails sink into my arm as she wrenches me off Christian like I'm some kind of plague.

"One would think you would be grateful to His Majesty for his benevolent generosity in elevating your previously non-existent status to that of a duchess," she spits with barely disguised contempt as she pulls me nose-to-nose with her.

"Get off me!" I grit, trying to shake her loose.

"Madeleine..." interjects Christian from behind me in a voice that I only heard him use once before... in the hallway at Ramsford when he realised that Drake had brought me back to Cordonia. "You overstep."

But the Countess of Fydelia seems to hear neither of us as she tightens her claw-like hold on me. "Yet instead, you repay him by not only by hijacking a royal event to serve your own shameless self-aggrandisement—"

I shake my head in disbelief. "Wait... Wh—?"

"—but then you have the unmitigated gall—"

"Madeleine," says Christian again, more forcefully this time. "That is enough."

But Madeleine is oblivious to the quiet threat suffused into the sound of her name, choosing to continue her tirade instead, "—to sneak off into the bushes with my fiancé in order to do God-knows-what when he should be—"

"I said, enough!" snaps Christian, coming suddenly between Madeleine and me with a face of thunder.

The force of his command is loud enough to cause a few heads on the edge of the lawn to turn curiously towards us.

Even Madeleine startles somewhat in response to the uncharacteristically vehement order. But not enough to let go of me.

"Can you not see what she is doing?" she demands indignantly as she turns to face Christian. "Or does she have you wrapped so tightly around her finger that you cannot even—?"

"How I choose to spend my time with the Duchess of Valtoria in private is of no concern to you, Countess," interjects Christian bluntly. "Or do I need to remind you of the conditions of our engagement?"

Madeleine's alabaster cheeks flush scarlet. "No..."

"Then I strongly suggest that you unhand Lady Harper, and ensure that this kind of juvenile outburst does not happen again."

Madeleine's eyes blaze with cold fury. But she relinquishes her hold on me, nevertheless. "My apologies, Duchess..." she snips, her voice dripping with insincerity.

I reach up to rub the spot where her nails had been on the verge of puncturing my skin.

Bitch...

Christian nods tersely in approval. "Now that that is sorted, I believe our guests are waiting. Lady Madeleine, if you'd be so kind..."

Madeleine takes his arm with a look that could've killed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

"Lady Harper," acknowledges Christian with a dip of his head as he starts to steer his seething fiancée away.

Knowing that all eyes are still on us, I drop into a quick curtesy as they walk past, on one hand grateful to Christian for shutting Madeleine down, but on the other hand wondering how badly we kicked into a nest of hornets in the process.

As it is clear that Madeleine is still raging with jealous insecurity... Perhaps even more so than she had been back at her manor when she cornered me in the bathroom. And the fact that — despite the massive diamond on her finger — I now technically outrank her is definitely not helping the situation!

So much for making allies at court…

Blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face, I turn back towards the festivities…

…only to be greeted by a wall of judgemental eyes, and more than a few camera lenses.

"Great..." I mutter under my breath.

Whether catching me with Christian had been the genuine straw that snapped Madeleine's cool, or whether she deliberately fabricated the showdown to undermine the positive reactions I got from the press earlier, the end result is the same...

I'm going to be on the front page tomorrow. Again.

Exactly in what form, I have no idea. But I've been at court long enough now to know that the whole thing will be blown completely out of proportion, and the resulting story will generate even more press frenzy.

But if there’s one thing that Drake has taught me, it’s that I cannot allow myself to give the aristos the satisfaction of ever thinking that they’ve managed to squash me into the dirt. Because that would undermine the entire reason why I came back to court in the first place, and given how close we now are to claiming back the truth, it would be a massive and premature admission of defeat.

So, raising my chin defiantly, I make my way back across the lawn to rejoin the remainder of the Festival.

The story continues in Chapter 17 - News Flash

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