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#like michael said 'goodnight sweet prince'
alfryco · 8 months
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It's truly the end of an era, but tbh it's, in a weird way, relieving (to me anyway, kind of like when you pop something that's been hurting you). Here I was thinking that when AH inevitably met it's end (because we could all see it coming man) I thought that the people who made up AH would be scattered and disbanded and go off and do their own jobs in the industry or what have you. BUt no! NO four of them are still staying together and now we get to see things that will give us new laughs and memories and jokes.
I know we're all pretty sad over AH basically dissolving, but it'll always be in our hearts. And now all that energy we spent loving on (and criticizing tbh) AH can now be put forth into just loving this new venture that Michael, Joe, Alfredo and Trevor are going on. I know I'm not alone when I say that AH helped me through some really dark and rough times and gave me friends that I'm never gonna give up, so let's pay them back by showing DogBark (god I hope we get an explanation for that name) some love in return!
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aristocraticvision · 1 year
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Chapter 338: Goodnight, Sweet Prince
Even though Helena's estate was only two minutes away, Michael managed to extend the trip significantly. Her company was intoxicating to him, and he intended to make it last as long as possible, though finally he had to deliver her home.
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“Thank you for driving me home, Michael,” Helena said as the prince walked her up the steps to her front door. “It was nice to talk a little longer.”
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“Yes, it was,” Michael said, stopping and turning to face her. “If you don’t think me too bold, I’d very much like to see you again.”
Helena looked down, hesitating, and Michael’s heart fell.
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“I don’t know if that’s wise,” she said, softly.
Michael turned away, confused.
“But we were getting on so well,” he said. “Or at least I thought we were. Was I wrong?”
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“No, we were … we are,” Helena said, sensing his hurt. “And I must say, I’ve grown quite fond of you, Michael. It’s just that – you being who you are ….”
Michael hung his head.
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“Look, Michael,” Helena went on, “I’ve always been a very private person. But you and I both know that, were we to start seeing each other, I would soon find myself at the center of a media circus.”
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“I can’t deny that,” he said, turning to face her. “And as much as I’d like to say the press would leave you alone if I asked, we both know that’s not true. But I would hope that the connection we both feel would make it worth the sacrifice.”
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“Perhaps it would for most people,” Helena said, sadly. “But I have never had any desire to live in the spotlight. In fact, it is a place I find not only uncomfortable, but terrifying.”
Michael nodded and turned to leave. He’d made it down the first flight of stairs when he turned.
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“Please, Helena, at least promise me you’ll consider it,” he said. “The press doesn’t seem to know I’m here, so until I return to Weston, we have time to explore things … get to know one another better. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to at least give it a chance?”
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Helena looked down at Michael’s face and softened.
“Very well, then,” she said. "We'll give it a chance."
CHAPTER 1 | BEGINNING OF PART 4 | PREV | NEXT
Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia
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aliypop · 3 years
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The Beautiful Ones (BHHW'S Prt 3)
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Wordcount: 1,336
Warning: Langauge and Smut
A/N : Part 3 to Beauty Has Her Ways, also yes the title is a Prince Reference also shout out to @wearewyldstallyns​  and her Star Fish Tank Head canon
"You haven't called!" Paul nearly shouted, watching as Tiffany kept chewing her gum from behind the counter, "We don't have a phone, sweetie, remember all the electricity went to Stars big ass fish tank..."  Tiffany sighed as she was getting cross-examined by the boys. "You could have sent us a letter!" Marko growled as she slumped over the counter. "Marko, give her some space..." David raised his hand, examining her face and the slight look of veins appealing from her eyelids. 
"You've been starving yourself, kitten..."  David asked
Tiffany pulled away as she looked at Dwayne, then the rest of the boys, "I've been eating, now I don't wanna talk about it." she snapped, watching as the blood of the meal David ate boil over.  
"Tiffany, what have I told you about your temper..." 
"David, please just... Piss off!" her face vamping out a bit, the boys standing back as they had never seen her like this before. 
Turning her back away from them, she began walking away from the counter. She heard a small voice muscle through the boys chattering. 
"You said you'd always be there for us, Tiffany," Laddie tugged on her jacket, "You left why..."  Tiffany looked down at the small boy as she placed her hand on his shoulder, "Did I do something wrong..." 
"Mon rayon de Soleil, you could never do anything wrong." she kissed his forehead, "Then why'd you leave?" he asked again. "I had no choice... But I'll be back..." she sighed, walking out the shop.
" Mikey..."  
"Yeah, Tiff..." Michael responded, seeing how weak she was,  "Am I bad for what I did..." she asked him. Michael cupped her cheeks as he shook his head, "No..." he sighed, "Parents just kinda suck like that, Tiff." he let out a chuckle as she kissed his cheeks, "Mikey never change..." she then walked off into the slightly populated boardwalk. Sitting in the comic book shop were Edgar and Alan Frog, along with Sam and Angelica. 
"You guys up to your vampire hunting again," she asked, propped up on the door. 
"No, we were discussing the issue of Wonder Woman." she rolled her eyes. 
"Dweebs... Anyways, Mom wants us back home ..." 
"So early..." Angelica grumbled.
"Hey, I would love for you to hang 10 with these fine men, but rules are rules..." Tiffany jingled her bike keys as she winked at Edgar, who turned bright red.  
"Tell mom I'm staying with Sam tonight..." Angelica glared at her sister as Sam gulped. 
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do..." she smirked, "Which isn't a lot..." she mumbled, getting on her bike heading off into the city. Riding past the cave, she could feel her undead soul nearly shatter: the sight of the boys covered in blood from the feedings that she used to be a part of stung.  "We don't need her..." She heard David say, watching as the boys were still in euphoria from their feast, " She'll come crawling back to us..." he smirked. Tiffany became furious riding off, David turned to look back at the source, but it was gone.  
Back to the white Victorian-looking house that she lived in, Tiffany couldn't help but want to die: besides, it felt that staking herself was a better option than living with her parents. 
"Where's your sister..." 
"She's staying with a friend. She wanted me to tell you that."  Tiffany smirked, doing finger guns trying to keep her chill, "Do we know this friend..." 
"Just go and enjoy your date night, you two..." she laughed, pushing her parents out the way, watching as they left out the car. Tiffany raced upstairs, hearing the intro to The Beautiful Ones playing from her room. Opening her door laid Dwayne, who had his hand out ready for her to grab. 
"When did you-" she began to ask, pulling her on top of him, "Shush..."  he placed his finger across her lips as he kissed her neck, her hands on his bare chest removing his leather jacket, taking his finger from her lips, he began unlacing her corset watching as goosebumps formed on her skin from the night air, 
 "Dwayne... about earlier ..." she bit her bottom lip, 
" Forget about it, babe" his fingers tangled in her curls as he kissed the shell of her ear, biting at her lobe. "But..." she tried to respond, her breath airy from the sensation. 
"The only thing you're gonna be saying is my name... got that." Tiffany nodded, a smile on her face as she kissed him, drawing a bit of blood from his lips, her hips grinding on his legs, desperately waiting for his touch.
 "You look hot like that..."  
"Like what..." 
"So vulnerable ..." he smirked, practically ripping off her pants, "Dwayne, those were!" she shrieked, looking up at him as she was now under him, his lips attached to her skin almost like a leach. "Dwayne!" she bit down on his wrist, the sensation of blood going down her body, her eyes pooled up with lust as her hands unbuckled his belt buckle, the heat of her womanhood wanting every inch of the man she missed. " S'il te plait mon amour ..." she looked up at him, his dark brown hair framing his face. 
"I don't know, baby girl... I mean, you did yell at David tonight." his fingers plunging into the slick wetness that he created. "But... Dwayne!... Ah..." her eyes closed as her breath hitched, " I promise I won't do it again!" her legs shaking just by his fingers. "No buts, baby..." he smiled, kissing the blood from her lips, her vampiric tone coming back to her face. As he added another digit, he could feel her walls collapsing. Tiffany only whimpered as the butterflies in her stomach halted. She then began to dig her nails into his shoulders as the once so familiar pressure of Dwayne filled her up.
 Tiffany gasped, adjusting to his size as he peppered kisses on her face, "Good girl..." he growled in her ear, biting her wrist as he later licked the wound.
 "What's been going on with you lately..."  Dwayne asked, striking up a conversation.
"Nothing..." 
" Tiffany, I overheard you and Michael talking and..." 
"Fine, I was stressed out a bit..." she began moving her hips, indicating that she was ready for him. "Why don't you take it out on me tonight, princess." Before Tiffany could reply, she was already on top of him. His hands roaming from her hips to the buds of her nipples, Dwayne could feel every grind be it fast or slow, that Tiffany was putting out. Following her rhythm, she could tell that he was just as close to coming as she was, moans and grunts filling the air until she heard the front door creak. 
"Shit, they're back..."  she mumbled.
"You ... Say it like it's a problem..." Dwayne laughed 
"Because it is! Oh, putain!" she threw her head back, feeling the deep thrust of Dwayne, her hips following the motion, Tiffany: could only utter sweet profanities.  "That's it, baby girl... you're doing great, keep going." 
"Dwayne! Right there!" she nearly screamed, almost collapsing on top of him, her hands tangled in his hair as he did the same with her. 
"Tiffany, is everything ok!"  
"Mhmm!" she nearly cried out, "Dwayne, please..." She whispered 
"Please what, sweetheart," he asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. 
"Let me cum..."  she nearly growled at him. 
As the door creaked open, Tiffany threw her covers over Dwayne. 
" Hey, sweetheart, we just wanted to say goodnight."  Ashton smiled as he noticed the flush look on her face, "Seems you already ate." 
"Yeah, I had a big feast!" she bit her lip, trying to hide her orgasm. " You alright "
"I'm uh coming down something!" she said, watching as her father left. " Dwayne, that wasn't funny!" she hit him in the chest, "I demand a repeat..."  she huffed as Dwayne poked his head out, 
"I can arrange that..." 
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ukulelecal · 5 years
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The Lady In Waiting - Part Three
In which you’re the lady in waiting for the princess, and the mysterious, quiet prince has taken a certain interest in you.
Warnings: none
Pairing: Royal!Calum Hood x Reader
A/N: its been a hot minute but....its back bitches!! ahh i’m very happy i got off my ass and started writing this again. i missed prince!cal. but anyway, here’s part three, let me know what you guys think!!! feedback is always appreciated!! do you guys have any predictions as to what will happen in the future? anything you WANT to see happen in the future (i can try to work in some suggestions?) let me know!
Series Masterlist
***
Ever since Mali decided to play matchmaker, she had been scheming ways to get Y/N and Calum alone together. It had to be subtle, make it seem like it was a coincidence, because it was true that Y/N could get in trouble for talking to him on the job.
She also wanted the conversation to be natural. She didn’t want to tell either of them about it and have them sit and plan what they were going to say. It would be painfully awkward. She would prefer that they just struck up a conversation on whatever came to mind; nothing forced.
Mali eventually came up with a plan. Calum always went to the library on Thursday evenings after dinner to unwind and read. Her idea was to call for Y/N to find her a book from the library, and when she arrived, Calum would be there, and that would be the perfect opportunity for them to talk. It wouldn’t be long, Mali knew, but it would be something, and that’s all she wanted.
Mali liked Y/N. She was kind, thoughtful, caring. She thought she could be good for her brother; he was quiet, stuck in his head a lot, and Mali thought a girl like Y/N could be someone to help him out of the funks that he tended to get himself into.
The next Thursday that came around, the Hood family finished having their dinner, and Calum was off to the library, like always. The place was big, and the isles of books seemed to go on forever. As much as he loved to read, he knew he would never read every single one. The collection was years in the making, and as time went on, it would only grow.
Calum browsed the books for a few minutes, skimming his fingertips over the spines and reading titles until he found one that piqued his interest. He pulled it from the shelf and took it to one of the large cushioned chairs to read.
Y/N was just finishing up her own dinner when she was notified that the princess was looking for her. She quickly said goodnight to Michael, who she was dining with, like usual, and made her way upstairs to Mali’s room. She knocked, and the girl opened the door with a grin.
“You called?” Y/N inquired. Mali nodded, placing a hand on her hip.
“Yes, I was just wondering if you could run to the library for me? I’ve been dying to reread this book.”
“Oh, sure! What book would you like?”
Mali proceeded to tell her the name and author of the first book that came to mind, and made sure to let Y/N know that there was no rush. To take her time. Y/N thought it was odd, the specification for her to take her time, but decided not to give it much thought as she made her way to the library, repeating the title and author of the book in her mind so she wouldn’t forget it.
Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little when she stepped foot into the library. The smell of books always comforted her. It was soothing.
But, in this library, Y/N felt a little lost. She had only been there one time, and she only looked around. She didn’t actually seek out a book, and she had no idea where to even start looking. She sighed, starting to look around for some sort of pattern in the titles or authors when she heard a voice call her name.
“Lady Y/N?”
She turned around at the sound of her name, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who it was. The prince stood up from the chair he was sitting in, closing the book in his hands and setting it down. Y/N dipped into a curtsy that she had perfected since arriving at the palace, sending a smile to him.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” she greeted, scolding her own heart for the way it was pounding in her chest.
“There’s no need for that, please,” he insisted, shaking his head softly. “Looking to do some reading?”
“The princess asked me to get a book for her.” Y/N took a glance around the library before returning her gaze to him. “I have no idea where to even start looking, though.”
“Oh, I can help you! I spend a lot of time here. What book is she looking for?”
As she rattled off the book and author that she had repeated in her head upward of a thousand times, she had to bite back the soft smile that was threatening to take over her features. She found it sweet that the prince enjoyed reading. It was something she liked about him.
Calum thought for a moment before cocking his head to the left, signalling for Y/N to follow him. She trailed behind him slowly, then stepped into the aisle that he went in.
“Should be in here somewhere,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes scanning titles to find the one that Mali mentioned. Y/N accompanied him in searching until her gaze landed on the correct book.
Calum found the book at the same time, and then reached for it at the same time she did. Their hands brushed against each other, and although the moment was brief, Y/N felt like there were fireworks exploding inside of her. It wasn’t the first time they had ever touched; Calum shook her hand upon their very first meeting. But she couldn’t ignore how it felt different.  
She also couldn’t ignore that, while still not having spent much time around him, she felt different about him. She didn’t know how she felt, though, and it terrified her.
Calum felt his heart skip a beat at the contact of their hands, a feeling not too different from how Y/N felt. He hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know his sister’s lady in waiting, but he wanted to. He just didn’t know how to approach her. He was a man of few words, and despite the fact that he had made countless public appearances and spoke to myriad people, total strangers, ranging from commonfolk to other royalty, he always got sweaty palms and found himself having to force the words out of his mouth. Especially when it came to Y/N.
He didn’t know what it was about her that made him so nervous, but it was definitely something.
Snapping out of his mini moment of freak out, he quickly pulled the book from the shelf and held it out to Y/N, who took it from him with gentle fingers.
“Thank you,” she breathed out, clutching the book to her chest. Calum grinned and nodded his head swiftly.
“Of course,” he responded, running a hand through his dark curls.
Y/N sighed softly, glancing behind her and then back to him.
“I should probably get this to the princess,” she mumbled. “Thank you so much for your help. I’d probably be on the wrong side of the library right now.”
Calum laughed, a pretty sound that Y/N suddenly wanted to hear more of.
“Well, glad I could save you the trouble. Have a good evening.”
“You too, Your Highness.”
“Please, dear. Call me Calum.”
Y/N froze for a moment, glancing up at him to see he looked just as shocked as she probably did. A small smile graced her features, and she mumbled an, “Okay, Calum,” before scurrying out of the library.
Calum speed walked back to his seat where his book sat, cursing under his breath. He had no idea what compelled him to call her dear; it certainly didn’t seem like something the shy prince would do to a woman he hardly knew. It just came out, not realizing it until it was too late. Had their relationship been of a different nature than it was, he wouldn’t have cared at all. He always thought the nickname was endearing. But, since the two were hardly close enough to consider themselves friends, it didn’t seem appropriate. He silently prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t make her uncomfortable.
Unbeknownst to the prince, Y/N was having trouble keeping the smile off her face as she walked back to Mali’s bedroom. She wasn’t blind, she could tell that Calum didn’t really mean to call her that, but her heart couldn’t help but flutter, nonetheless. She liked the way it sounded rolling off his tongue.
Aside from the nickname, there was also the fact that he had asked her to call him Calum. His sister had done the same thing for herself, and Y/N was feeling a similar way about it. He had to like or be comfortable with her to some extent if he wanted to drop the formalities.
She couldn’t help but feel special. She knew it was hardly justified and she seemed full of herself, but she liked the feeling of being accepted. Acceptance was a hard thing to come by, being from Georgetown.
Y/N rapped softly on Mali’s door. The princess opened it fairly quickly, an excited grin on her face.
“Hi!” She cheered, gaze landing on the book in Y/N’s hands.
“Hi! I got your book,” Y/N answered, holding out the book for her to take. She grabbed it, but she could care less about the book. Frankly, she probably wasn’t even going to read it. She wanted to see if Y/N and Calum talked to each other.
“Thanks so much, Y/N.” Mali reached over and set the book on her dresser. “Was anyone else in the library?”
“Oh, yes, your brother was there. He helped me find the book.”
Mali’s face lit up the slightest bit, causing confusion to wash over Y/N. Why would she be so happy about her and her brother having a conversation, a fairly brief one, at that? Suddenly, Y/N remembered the conversation they had over breakfast just the previous week. She remembered how Mali said Calum may like her a little, and how she said it was okay for her to talk to him. Maybe she had wanted them to talk to each other, and this was her little way of getting them to do it herself.
“That’s very sweet of him, isn’t it?” Mali inquired, still grinning mischievously.
“Yes…” Y/N trailed off, unsure of where the conversation was going.
Mali decided to let the topic be for the evening, but her and Y/N both knew this wasn’t going to be the last of her endeavors to get her lady in waiting and her brother to start talking. She knew it wasn’t guaranteed that they would fall in love, but she thought Y/N could at minimum be a good friend for Calum to have.
After the two bid their goodbyes, Y/N made her way back to her quarters, a room she had grown quite familiar with over time. It was almost comforting, when things around the palace got too overwhelming.
It wasn’t very late, and Y/N knew trying to sleep so early would be futile. She pondered what she could do to keep herself entertained until she got sleepy, a list of options that was fairly short, eyes scanning the room to look for inspiration. Her searching brought her gaze to the crisp white envelope that was sitting on top of her dresser; it hadn’t been there before. She picked it up with curiosity and turned it over the read the back. It was from Aunt Mary.
A smile spread across the girl’s face. It had been a while since she heard from her. She tore open the envelope as she moved to sit on her bed, pulling out the letter. Her smile didn’t fade as she carefully took in all the words, glad to see that Aunt Mary said she had been feeling a lot better.
Y/N grabbed the leather bound notebook that she was given and a writing utensil after she finished reading, and propped herself up against the headboard of her bed again. She flipped to the nearest empty page, and began to write.
Dear Aunt Mary,
It’s great to hear from you again! Mail was slow, I guess?
I’m so happy to hear you’re feeling better. I knew the doctors from the palace would do a much better job taking care of you than I ever could. But anyway, this is progress! And I’m sure it’ll only get better from here.
How are things in Georgetown? I can’t imagine it’s been eventful at all, considering it usually never is. But if you hear any gossip, make sure to let me know.
I never thought I’d miss the place, but I do. Remember how many times we’ve talked for hours about how much we’d like to get out of the little town and live in a big city? As much as I would still love to do that with you, I’d do anything for just a quick walk around the square. It’ll always be home for me.
I miss you. I miss talking with you about anything and everything, and having our meals together. I miss your hugs, too. Yours are always the best. Maybe I’ll be able to come visit you soon! I’ll have to talk to the princess, but I’ll definitely try to make it happen.
Speaking of the Hood’s, I’ve definitely taken an even bigger liking to them. I still don’t see much of the king and queen, but the princess and the prince are very sweet. The princess asked me to have breakfast together a little while ago, which was exciting! The prince is very nice, too. Quiet, but nice. I like him.
Y/N paused, staring at the paper for a moment. She debated on telling Aunt Mary about her strange feelings about Calum, but decided against it. One conversation wasn’t enough to justify telling her quite yet. She decided to wait and see if anything else happens. So, she wrapped up her letter.
That’s pretty much it from me. It’s been rather uneventful here in Alexander, or as uneventful as it can be in the Hood’s palace. I’ll let you know if anything important happens.
I love you so much, Aunt Mary. Write soon!
Love,
Y/N
She gently tore the page from her notebook, getting up to set everything on her dresser. She made a mental note to ask for it to be sent her aunt’s house the next day.
Deciding to call it an early night and try to fall asleep, she got herself ready for bed and got comfortable in her sheets. A sudden wave of tiredness washed over her, and she let her eyes flutter shut. It wasn’t a long time before she drifted off to sleep.
Calum, who had stayed in the library a lot later than he normally did, just arrived back to his bedroom around the time Y/N was readying herself for bed. He tried to continue reading his book, he really did, but the words seemed to slip right past him. He couldn’t remember a thing he read.
All he could think about was calling you dear.
He hated that he did it so out of the blue, at such an early point in your relationship. But, he almost wanted to give himself a second chance. A do over, of sorts.
He wanted to call you dear again. Under better circumstances, of course.
In order to have that opportunity, he knew he had to talk to you. A lot more often than what he was doing. While striking up conversations wasn’t exactly Calum’s forte, he was willing to try.
He was willing to try for you. The lady in waiting.
-
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poppy-metal · 5 years
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An/ so this is completely self indulgent trash. I had this idea in my head for an au and this happened? Lmk if you want me to like,,,,,expand on it lmao.
Summary: basically Michael is a Fae prince and Duncan is a werewolf. Michael catches Duncan hunting on his land and kidnaps him and keeps him as a pet. Michael is not nice, and Duncan is just not having the best time. Or is he? Its all very complicated. Takes place like a couple months after Michael has kidnapped Duncan. Its also very short so sorry.
The claw marks on Michaels back have dissapeared, faded into his pristine skin. The bite marks too, the angry gashes and stinging scratches a split lip, all gone. None of the fae court, his courts, Michaels, would be able to tell anything was different, that anything had happened.
Duncan sinks his teeth into his lip to suppress a snarl. Sat at Michaels heels like a loyal dog, gold collar adorning his neck as Michael holds the golden chain that connects to it idly, lazily, as he sits on his throne, watching his court with cold, bored eyes. Sometimes, Duncan will feel a pull, a tug, at his throat and he knows this is Michaels way of humiliating him even further, of reminding him where he is, a sick mockery of what he is. A werewolf. A canine. "You're basically half dog, no? Then it stands to reason that i treat you like one" Michael had said before, lips curling cruely at the way Duncan had bristled, growled at him like he wanted to attack, which he did. Still does. But can't.
Werewolves are powerful in their own way. Compared to humans anyway. They're beasts. Hunters. Fearsome monsters who's skin stretches and elongates and who's teeth sharpen to incredible lengths at just a moments notice. But. But compared to the Fae. Compared to Michael, royal fae, he might as well be human. He's just as powerless.
His skin aches in this form. His human like form. Michael prefers him this way. Says he's handsome and fun to marvel at. Easier to touch and fuck too.
He hasn't been allowed to shift for weeks and he hates it. Hates Michael. Hates being treated like some pet. Hate, hate, hate. He wishes more then anything that he could slide into his wolf form, tear out Micheals throat with his teeth so that his blood stains the castle floor with a deep red, sprays all his people with their princes death. Wishes he could flee away, far away, run through the forest until his body collapses, feel the dirt under his paws, the wind in his fur. He misses the time when he was naive and knew nothing of the fae, wishes he had never gone hunting that one time and been caught, brought here to a fate worse then death.
There was a wildness in him thats been dampened now from Michaels cruelty. Most of the time he is what Michael wants him to be. He is obedient and loyal, he is complicit and gentle. He is silent and accommodating. He sits at Michaels feet and he lets Michael pet through his hair, even leans into it. Sometimes he even rests his head on Michaels lap, closes his eyes as Michael strokes him almost lovingly.
Duncan hates him. Often imagines killing him. But mostly he hates the affect Michael has on him. Duncan has tried. Tried to only feel hate for his captor but. But Michael is so beautiful it hurts to look at him. Michael is so gentle with him sometimes in ways he's never experienced, the way he touches him, the way he looks at him. It sends a swirling of emotions into duncans chest, leaves it fluttering. He hates him. He wants to tear him apart and rip into him for what he's reduced him to. A loyal dog wanting nothing more then to be by his side.
Duncan sits, and he watches.
~~~
There are time's when Duncan's wolf is allowed to come out. Times where he is allowed to let loose all his pent up agression and anger and revenge. Those times are few and far between but he relishes them. Times like last night.
Duncan usually knows where it's going when Michael purposefully taunts him for being so obedient, for giving in so easy, for being tamed and muzzled. Its words like that. Tamed, muzzled, obedient, that make him snap everytime. He lashes out, and Michael just smiles. Takes it. Duncan knows it's because he wants it. That Duncan is simply falling into another trap, giving another part of himself away to the prince and yet. He needs it. To much to care that he's being manipulated.
He charges and snarls and snaps his teeth, and Michael lays back, spreads his milky pale thighs and allows Duncan between them with a smirk. He tilts his neck, inches of bare skin showing off and Duncan gives in. He bites, sinks his teeth into Michaels flesh until he tastes blood, holds Michaels throat between his jaws like prey, and hates himself for the way he hardens at the soft whimper Michael lets out at the action. He takes it out by tearing Michaels clothes off, stripping him violently, his hand gripping and clawing at that pale skin until it turns red.
When he fucks into Michael he presses him down with his weight, mounts him and just lets go. He tries to focus on how good it feels to finally have some control, to release all that feral energy inside, to make Michaels face twist in pain. He tries to ignore the other part of him, that groans when he sinks into that velvet heat, the part of him that shudders when Michael lets out sweet moans and wraps his delicate arms around him, legs too. Tries to ignore how when Michaels lips touch his ear and beg for him, how it makes him feel electric. He tries to burry that part of him that desperately wants to make Michael his, because no. No, he can't want him. He can't want this. This is just purely physical and his only way of letting Michael know how much he hates him. Even if Michael loves every minute of it.
When he cums it almost hurts, and he's not sure if its because of much he needed this, or if it's because of the way Micheals voice cries out his name like a melody and clutches onto him like a dream as he comes down.
He detangles himself almost immediately from the faes embrace as everything comes back, as the lust dies down. He backs away and watches as Michael gets up, winches when he sees how his own cum is gleaming off of Micheals thighs. Michael smiles at him, as he slips into his robe, padding over to Duncan and patting him on the cheek. Duncan closes his eyes because he can't take this, keeps them closed as Michael tells him goodnight, keeps them closed as he hears his soft footsteps lead away and his door close with a echoing thud. Sealing him in. Like a dog in a crate.
That. That was last night. And as he observed before all his markings have gone. He can't tell if it angers him because he wants to see and remember the pain he inflicted or if it's because the mark of his possession is no more. He feels like he knows the answer but can't bring himself to think more on it. Thinking about his feelings towards Michael beyond the obvious resentment hurts to much, is to confusing, and makes his heart ache and his tummy twist. He tries to avoid thinking about his feelings at all costs. He tries.
Of course, Michael will not let him.
~~~
Its nights like tonight that Duncan dreads more then anything. Because fucking Michael is one thing. It's just that. Its fucking. Its hard and its angry and its rough and during he can convince himself that he's doing it out of hate and only that.
Its a completely different story when Michael fucks him. He can't pretend then. Michael leaves no room for it. Because Michael doesn't fuck Duncan. He makes love to him. And that is so, so much worse.
Because Duncan knows. He know's Michael is a sick, twisted, evil being who only views him as a toy. A thing. Everything he does, from his cruel actions to his soft ones is all one big way to manipulate Duncan further into his lie. He know's what Michaels endgame is. He know's Michael simply wishes to break him down so much, that he fools himself into loving him. Because then Michael will have finally had full control over him. His heart is the only part of himself Michael does not own and he wishes to keep it that way.
But its not that easy. Because Michael can be so, so, charming, and gentle. He touches Duncan like he's someone precious to Michael, like he's his lover. His equal. His fingers skate down his heated skin and his touch lights fires in Duncan that he can't put out. His soft lips touch Duncan in places that leave him weeping. He hates this. He really does. But his body loves it. His body wants it.
It rises under Micheals hands and it pushes back onto his slight fingers when they're inside him. His body flushes at Michaels sweet words of praise, and melts for him, lets Michael in. Inside. The whimpers and the moans fall from his lips unbidden when Michael spreads him and, and, his tongue, oh, that wicked tongue, it slides over him and fucks in, in, in and Duncan. Duncan comes apart. He shakes and he whines and he presses his face down so it cant be seen. Knows he looks utterly wrecked. Knows he is.
And when Michael pushes into him with his cock, and his body yields to him like he was made for this, Duncan can do little but moan into his pillow and weep.
After, when Michael holds him, keeps him close, Duncan looks upon him. He won't allow himself to look at Michael during the day, refuses. But here, tucked away into Michaels chambers with Michaels cum still inside him, the memory of his body and his lips and hands taking him apart still fresh, Duncan allows himself this. Just this one moment. Michael truly is beautiful. Golden curls, angelic features, he appears so soft when he is anything but.
Duncan wonders if, if fae weren't fae and Werewolves weren't Werewolves, if they had lived as the humans do, if Duncan would see him across a crowded room, and admire him simply because he was magnificent. If Michael would have looked back with the same rapture. If they would fall into each other, into each others bodies and into each others hearts.
He knows its foolish, but. For a split second, he pretends. The second doesn't last, it never does and he turns away from Michael and curls up, closing his eyes. He hates Michael. He thinks Michael hates him too. He must. They hate each other for what they are. They each want to see the other break. They each lust for the others demise.
And yet, as the dark blanket of sleep takes Duncan away, he grabs Michaels hand and brings it over his chest, over his heart, and holds it there.
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Text
The Good Place (one-shot)
Synopsys: Even though some might disagree, Loki is living now on Earth, and what is, even more, he is living in his own apartment. The pressing need for money makes him put up an advert in search of a roommate which brings the Reader into his life.
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: alluding to abuse, though nothing explicit. Please, even if the slightest mention of the topic triggers you, do not read this!!! SPOILERS FOR ‘THE GOOD PLACE’; I apologise if there are any mistakes :)
Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst
Word count: 2672
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   A knock on the door disturbed Loki from reading his book. With a huff of annoyance and a roll of his eyes, he stood up from the couch, sauntering towards the invader. He swung the door open to tell off whoever it was, but instead, his eyes fell upon a young woman with Y/H/C hair, beautiful Y/E/C eyes and a nervous look on her face, slamming out all of the air from his lungs as well as any remaining thoughts.    “Hi, I'm Y/N,” she said, “are you Loki? I’m here because of the advert. You were looking for a roommate? Well, hopefully still are…”    “Uh-“ it was a second in the presence of the girl, yet he had already lost every sense of what words were. “Yeah, I- umm- I am.” He finally stammered out while loosening the grip on the doorknob and widening the entryway as an invitation for the girl to step inside.    “Listen,” she stated not even budging from her place, “I’m kinda desperate here. I don’t care how small the room is and if it even has a bed. I just need it now. I’ve been living in the back of my car for the past week. Don’t worry,” she held up her hands before Loki could butt it, “I have enough money to cover the rent for the next four months. Just… some unexpected things happened so I became in a dire need of a new place. Still am. But wouldn’t be if you said yes… to me… living here… I’m rambling, aren’t I? Fuck, I screwed it up,” Y/N threw her head back in frustration and waved a hand. “I’ll- I’ll just go, I’m sorry for bo-“    “You’ve got the place,” Loki surprised himself when the words came out of his mouth.    Y/N turned back to look at the man. She had already made her way down the hallway, now shock and what looked like hope was written all across her features. “I- I do?”    The trickster god nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. But for the first time in a long while, it was truly sincere. “Yes. And if I presume correctly, all your stuff is in your car.”    “Well, there is not a lot of it anyways. It's like three boxes, so you don’t have to do anything. Just keep the door open-“    “Nonsense,” he interrupted her ramblings again, but there was nothing malicious in the tone. Quickly he snatched the apartment key from the mantlepiece and pocketed it, closing the door behind his tall frame. “Lead the way,” he grinned at Y/N and the warm smile she returned made the immortal being feel all fuzzy on the inside. Maybe living on Earth with mortals wouldn’t be that bad.
***
   Y/N wasn’t lying when she said everything she owned fit in only three boxes. They had all of her stuff in the apartment in less than ten minutes which allowed her to immediately set up her room. There was a bed, of course, a quite spacious wardrobe with an attached body length mirror to the inside, a corner desk and a small nightstand.    “There is only one bathroom, so we’ll have to share.”    “Trust me, that is the least of my problems right now,” Y/N snorted and mentally had already started to place things where she thought they’d look best. The off-hand comment didn’t go unnoticed by Loki, but he didn’t press on. She was a stranger that he, on a whim had allowed to move in. Whatever her worries were was none of his concern, though something in his heart told him, they would become.    “Well,” Y/N placed her hands on her hips, looking around her new home, “I won’t keep you much longer. Thank you with the boxes and thank you for letting me stay. I- you have no idea how much this means to me.”    Loki smirked, throwing the girl a wink. “Just don’t give me a reason to evict you.”    With a mock salute, Y/N’s own lips tugged up at the corners. “Roger that.”    He slowly closed the door as he exited. There was an audible sigh that escaped the girl’s lips, but it wasn’t a sigh of content, that much he was sure of, which made him think that something was not clean in this whole situation.
***
   As weeks passed by Y/N and Loki bonded. They became as thick as thieves and even developed feelings for one another. Not that either would ever admit that. I mean, Loki- a man from another realm with the blood of Frost Giants and the prince of Asgard in love with a mortal? It was insanity, but even the god of lies couldn’t fool himself. With every passing day, his love for the girl grew as did hers.    She would watch him, letting her gazes linger on a bit longer than necessary. Y/E/C orbs would trace his immaculate jawline and those sharp cheekbones. Whenever they talked, all she could focus on were the green eyes, where glimmering specks of gold made themselves present whenever the sun shone just a tad bit brighter.    Y/N revealed to Loki that she had instantly recognised who he was from the ad, but hadn’t had any second thoughts about living with him.    “I mean, I ain’t making any excuses for you, but given how you haven’t tried to kill me yet,” she had smirked and nudged his shoulder. “All I’m saying is that no one is purely good or evil. And I can make my own judgement calls. After all, if the all righteous Captain America allowed you to move out of the Avengers' tower and live alone, that has to stand for something, right?”    It had been that comment which made Loki fall for the girl completely and utterly. Now, they were curled up side by side, watching ‘The Good Place’ his arm woven around her waist and pulling her body closer to his, so she could comfortably sit next to the god on the small sofa.    “I still cannot believe she couldn’t figure out she was in the Bad Place,” Loki complained, “I mean it was so obvious.”    Y/N’s eyes dropped to the popcorn bowl, taking a handful and stuffing the sweet substance in her mouth. “It’s not always that obvious. I mean Michael was really good at creating and keeping up the illusion.”    Loki looked down at the girl who sat so snugly next to him. He let his eyes wander over the Y/H/C hair and the curve and dip of her mouth, how much he wanted to press his own against it, to feel her warm breath mix with his while his freezing touch roamed over the girl’s hot skin.    “Michael was good, but he wasn’t that great. There were clear signs.”    “That doesn’t mean people always notice them and take them into account. There was trust involved. Eleanor believed him, so obviously she would never assume he’d want to torture them. She had no reason to do so.”    The raven-haired man shrugged. “But I mean if the system was so elaborate and perfect, she should’ve known the second she stepped foot into the neighbourhood that things were off.”    Suddenly the mood completely shifted. Loki felt Y/N’s whole body freeze up and go rigid, eyes glaze over with unshed tears as her knuckles turned almost completely white from the force she was gripping the blanket’s edge with. “She had no reason to.” Her tone had become defensive and allowed no room for any argument to be made.    “Y/N-“ Loki started but didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence as the girl stood up.    “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”    His brows furrowed in what seemed to be disappointment until the expression turned into worry and confusion. There on Y/N’s outer left thigh, almost thoroughly concealed by her shorts and one of Loki's large shirts, a yellowish bruise peeked out.    From his own experience on the battlefield, he knew it was in the last stages of healing, but what concerned him the most was how such a sweet and loving girl would get herself in a situation where it would adorn her body.    With silent footsteps, Loki followed to her closed bedroom only to hear soft sniffles coming from it.    “Y/N?” he knocked against the wooden panel and immediately everything went silent inside. “Are you alright?”    “I’m good,” immediately he could hear the suppressed cries in her voice. “Go to bed, Loki.”    The light inside her room got turned off and the man could only stare at the door with a gut feeling telling him that something was up.
***
   Neither mentioned the incident, moving on with their lives as if nothing had happened. That was until three days later when Loki had come back from a small mission where the Avengers had needed his expertise in magic, had he found Y/N crouched by the door, terror making her body tremble as she kept mumbling incoherent words.    “Darling?” his cold palms went to cradle her face, unseeing eyes looking into his scared ones. “Y/N what happened? Y/N?” By that point, he had started to shake the girl, hoping the motion would make her snap out of it.    Her lips moved, yet no sound escaped.    “Love, please,” Loki didn’t know what to do at this point. “Please tell me how I can help.”    “He found me,” she said a bit louder. “He found me.”    “Who? Who found you? Y/N what are you talking about.”    “My Michael.”    The trickster was confused. Nothing that Y/N said made any sense to him, so gently, he scooped her up in his arms and sat down onto the couch with her still tightly wrapped in his embrace.    The apartment was silent as the girl started straight into the wall, not replying to any of the soft pleas that escaped Loki’s mouth. He was so worried, his heart breaking into thousands of pieces as he beheld the state of who had become the love of his life. Cold hands glided over the side of her legs, to try and soothe Y/N, when something clicked.    The bruise. How defensive she had gotten when Eleanor hadn’t realised she was in the Bad Place. That just because there had been signs didn’t mean people would immediately understand the toxic situation they were in. And lastly- she had said ‘her Michael’. As in Eleanor’s torturer. Y/N’s torturer.    Rage coursed through his veins as his mind made the connections.    “Darling,” he got the word out through gritted teeth, “did somebody hurt you?”    “He found me,” Y/N whispered, cheek resting right above where Loki’s thudding heart beat out of rhythm. “He said he would. I drove around for a week, hoping to get him off my trail and I thought I did. I thought staying with an Avenger would keep me safe. But in the end, he always wins.”    Everything now made sense. How frazzled Y/N had looked the first time he had seen her. It explained why she had lived in her car for a week, the bruises, how her body tensed up when their conversation shifted while watching the show.    “I will never let anything happen to you,” the resolve in his words made the girl look up.    “You can’t protect me from him, Loki,” her fingers went to graze his jaw just like so many times she had fantasised. “No one can.”    Loki felt his heart shatter completely. Just the thought of someone laying a hand on such a soft and delicate creature made bile rise in his throat.    “Of course, I will. You seem to forget I’m a god. And an Avenger.”    Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she saw Loki pull out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and dial a number.    “Stark,” he said to the person on the other end of the line and it was like that little name revived the girl.    “No, no, no, no, no,” she snatched the device out of Loki’s palm and covered the microphone. “You can’t. Loki he’ll kill me. You can’t do this.”    “I’m not letting that vile beast anywhere near you.”    “It doesn’t matter anymore!” tears fell down her cheeks. “He already knows where I live. I’m done for it here. I need to run, not be babysat by Iron Man.”    “And how long will you run for this time?” he was getting angry now. The god’s mind couldn’t wrap around the thought that Y/N would rather throw her life away than accept a little help. “Love, a monster like that needs to be stopped before he can harm someone else…” Loki had stepped closer to the girl, so close that their noses brushed against one another’s. “Before he can harm the woman I’m in love with…”    It was out there, Loki couldn’t take it back anymore, but it seemed to do the trick. Her breath hitched and Y/N's grip on the little piece of technology lessened, allowing him to grab it. With a snap of his fingers, a clone of himself appeared in the flat and immediately it went to Y/N’s room. It didn’t take long for it to pack up her stuff and move it to the living room.    Through the daze Y/N's mind seemed to be stuck in, she hadn’t heard one bit of the conversation Loki had had with the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Only when his cold fingers touched the girl’s cheeks was when she got brought back to reality.    “Did you mean it?” When you said you loved me?” her voice trembled, fear and hope and something akin to disbelief lacing the words.    But instead of replying, slowly, as if Y/N was a wild animal, Loki leaned in, letting his forehead rest against hers, allowing his nose to once more slide against the girl’s and when she didn’t push him away, he gently pressed his lips to her mouth. It was like her whole body melted in his embrace, strong arms having to hold up her sagging from.    One of her palms rested on the nape of his neck, pulling Loki incredibly close while the other had almost a mind of its own, fingers carding through black locks and tugging in places, making the trickster emit a growl which Y/N eagerly swallowed. It was the pressing need for air that made them pull back, though not completely.    “What now?” she whispered, eyes still closed and revelling in the kiss.    Loki let his hands rest on the girl’s hips. “Now, I’ll keep you safe. If you’ll allow me.”    That made Y/N open her eyes and look at Loki, making him know that she was there, she was present and listening to what he would propose.    “I have arranged it with Stark that you’ll have a place at the tower. I’ll move in as well if that is what you request. You can stay there for as long as you wish or as long as you need to feel safe again. But right as we speak his A.I. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is running facial recognition from the footage obtained from the cameras outside the building complex. Y/N, you don’t have to run anymore. With Tony’s help, that horrible creature should be caught by the end of the week. Tops. But it is your life. Your decision. So if you want to take off again, you can, but just know you are allowed to live the life to the fullest. You deserve to have a Good Place. A real one.”    Tears rolled down her cheeks, as the girl pressed her face into Loki’s shoulders, for the first time in years letting the feeling of safety completely overtake her senses. “Will you be there?” the soft question seeped into his skin as Loki vowed to love and protect Y/N for the rest of their lives.    “For as long as you’ll want me.”    She leaned up, eyes closed and kissed the god once more. “Thank you, Loki. For being my Good Place.”    “Thank you for giving me one too.”
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @pizzarollpatrol @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger  @marvels-queen-bee @julierousing98 @maggiesimps @horrorx570ximagines  @nerissa98 @palaiasaurus64 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers  @lumelgy
A/N: just wanted to write something for Loki, I’ve been in a really big Hiddleston mood lately so there are a lot more fics of the Norse God on their way :D
P.S. please tell me what you think :)
P.S.S. if you wanna be tagged in future stories or have any requests, dorp a message :)
P.S.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)
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that-rogue-valar · 5 years
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Us
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Summary: Leithrien is the daughter of Finarfin and the sister of Galadriel. When she falls in love with a smithy of Aule, he soon takes her hand in marriage and they leave their home in Valinor to join her lover's master in Arda. Little does she know, it is only a matter of time before she is pulled into her husband's master's schemes. Together, will the three save themselves or let the enemy take away what they have?
Cast-
Cody Fern (Michael Langdon) as Sauron/Mairon
Hayden Panetierre as Leithrien/Hirilgwathren
Ben Barnes (Prince Caspian) as Melkor (sorry, I had to. I could just see it fitting).
Warnings: NSFW content, plenty of cuss words, but also a lot of fluff.
Also on Quotev. | Part two of ? | Previous parts: 1
They were terrible. Halls of blackened stone, sharp cliff faces hung from the outside, and terrible creatures that were once my own people lurked in Angband. But I still did not want to leave. I found it peculiar that I didn't flee as soon as we came upon Thangorodrim, but in a way, I did not find it peculiar at all. 
Mairon, my husband, kept me at his side at all times to make sure that I would be alright. His worry was sweet, though annoying at times when I wanted to lurk the halls by myself. I could take care of myself despite Mairon's constant worrying. 
I found it in me somewhere to argue my case of wanting to wander the halls by myself for once. It had been nearly four years since we sailed to Arda from Aman and I wanted nothing more than to just be alone. I loved him and never wished for him to be gone, but Valar, I need time away. 
"Please, Mairon," I said to him one night as I laid my head on his chest. "I know these halls just as well as you do. So, please, let me wander them alone." 
He took a deep breath and looked down at me for a brief second before averting his gaze back to the dark ceiling. Mairon's hand that was once in my hair moved to my hip. A hum left my lips before he retracted his hand from my body much to my dismay. 
"I'll think about it, darling," Mairon whispered. 
I groaned and threw myself out of his grip. I tucked my pillow in my arms, then pouted for quite some time. I felt him move on the mattress until he was hovering over me. A smirk was plastered on his pale face, then he leaned down to press a kiss to my neck, then my collar bones. 
"Mairon," I whimpered. "This isn't going to change my mind. I want to be able to explore. You cannot keep me in a cage like a bird." 
He ceased his assault of kisses. "Yes, darling, I get that. But would you just stop talking about it?"
"No," I smirked. "Not until you let me do as I please." 
Mairon resumed his attack and brushed his hand that wasn't propping him up down my side. I shook my head as I placed my pillow over my face to hide the smile that was growing from my husband. I attempted to push him off into his own spot in our bed, but I failed miserably. 
A chuckle erupted from my lover's chest at my struggles. Mairon pulled my pillow away from me and gave it a toss over his shoulder. I opened my mouth to protest but was quickly silenced by Mairon's lips pressing against my own. 
"Please, darling," Mairon said. "You are much prettier when you shut up and go to sleep. Go to sleep." 
I groaned with as much dramatic flair as I could muster up. "That is so not fair!" 
"Yes, it is."
The following week, it seemed as if my argument with Mairon had paid off. I could roam Angband as much as my heart desired just as long as I came to bed before Mairon went to sleep. I wandered the halls long enough to find a library- my safe place. I spent hours reading the books until I read them all multiple times. 
Mairon and his master, Melkor, would come down to the library during lunch to eat with me. After they finished their lunches and announced that they had to tend to their duties once more, they would rise from their seats and press their lips against either side of my temple, then walk away. 
I found beauty in the dark stone halls of Angband, the way the great fires made the marble visible, and even the fountain of blackened water in the courtyard. It was almost as if I was meant to dwell in the mountains instead of the house of my father in Valinor. 
"Hello, beautiful," Mairon said followed by a kiss to my cheek. 
"Hello, beautiful," Melkor teased, mocking my husband's action of kissing me on the cheek. "You look absolutely ravishing today. Doesn't she, Mairon?" 
Mairon rolled his eyes. "Yes, master, she does. Now please, my wife isn't your wife." 
"I wouldn't be completely opposed to that idea, however," I mumbled. 
"What?" Mairon questioned. "Are you fucking serious?" 
I gave them a small nod before shrinking further into my seat. 
"Well, I don't know if she's fucking serious, but it looks like she's serious about fucking," Melkor said. "Am I right?" 
"Shut up, Melkor!" Mairon and I both shouted at the same time at his master.
It shocked Melkor and he crossed his arms over his chest so he could pout for the evening. Melkor remained silent for a few moments before he opened is loudmouth again. 
He smiled and said, "You know, you two have really pretty lips." 
Mairon blushed and turned his face away from his master's gaze. I couldn't contain my laughter any longer and had to laugh at my husband's frustration. He reached over to me and pinched my side. A yelp replaced my laughter and I felt punching him in the nose. 
"Shit, Mairon," Melkor said. "No pinching the lady. And that is an order from your master." 
At that, my husband rolled his eyes and raised his middle finger to his master. He lifted his other fist and did the same, earning a rather offended, dramatic look from Melkor. Mairon told the Vala to go fuck himself, but the god didn't seem phased by the Maia's words. 
* * * 
"All I can say is, 'wow,'" I said the best I could although I was completely out of breath. Melkor and Mairon laid beside me, their sweaty, naked limbs strewn across my body. "You boys did rather well." 
Mairon nudged his nose against my temple and hummed. "Yes, we did do rather well," he said with as soft a tone as he could muster. "Melkor, did you make sure she wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow?" 
All the Vala could find the strength to say was, "Mhm." 
Melkor dragged his finger with utter laziness up and down my bare thigh until sleep took him captive and his snores were the only thing his body was doing. I couldn't help but laugh at him. He could destroy the Trees and not grow weary, but having sex with Mairon and myself was too much for him. 
Mairon's lips came to my forehead and he brought me closer to him. Melkor whined, tried to pull me back to him, but Mairon reached over and smacked him on the head before he could pull me further away. My husband snickered his triumph and whispered his goodnight in my ear. 
"Goodnight, my lord," he muttered. "And goodnight, my lady. You did so well, darling. So, so well." 
"Goodnight Mairon, Leithrien," Melkor said, although still very asleep. "Next time, Mairon, I get your ass." 
I nearly choked on my saliva. "Alright, behave now. Goodnight, boys." 
The following day was rough, to say the least. Between Melkor and Mairon coming up at random times to earn my affection and the slight ache in my legs, my day stretched out to seem much longer than it should have been in the first place. The silence of my library was torturous and the emptiness of my body that craved to be full again was nearly enough to send me packing towards the throne room. But I had to control myself. I wasn't about to lose my self-control yet. 
Lunch rolled around after what seemed like an eternity. In strolled my lovers with smirks plastered on their faces as they settled into their seats at the table beside me. Four servants wheeled in two carts of food and wine for our dining pleasure. 
Melkor was the first to notice my squirming. His smirk grew at the sight of me wiggling in my seat to gain some friction. He went to reach his hand over to assist me, but Mairon shot him a look that could kill and he retracted his hand. He mocked Mairon's look and tried to make it look as stupid as possible. 
"But MaiMai!" Melkor whined. "I just wanna help her out. Look at the way she's squirming! She can't eat while she's squirming!" 
Mairon looked at me and observed my actions of trying to get the much-desired friction. "Later. Leithrien has to learn to behave."
Damn him. 
Melkor and I both had the same reaction to Mairon's words. It was pure torture and my husband knew it. He smirked as the Vala and I both began to squirm even more until I couldn't handle it anymore. My self-control was gone. 
"Vartyo, lenna, mecin," I said. At once, the servants quickly filed out of the room and left me with the two men.
Melkor was the first to jump up and rush to my side. His one hand went to the side of my face and pulled me into a kiss, while the other went to pull up my skirts. Mairon grunted from behind Melkor, but his master ignored him and continued his actions. I leaned further into the kiss before I had to break away from it to breathe. 
His lips left mine and trailed down my neck. I whimpered, my hands immediately sent into his dark mane. He finally got my skirts hiked up enough to get his hands where I desired them the most. I felt my body melt into his hands. 
"Mairon," I whispered. "Come on, I need you too." 
My husband threw himself out of the chair and grabbed hold of Melkor. Mairon's ringed hands cupped Melkor's face as he captured his lips with his own. Melkor didn't cease his movements on my own body. Mairon pulled his master's hair back enough to expose his neck to the Maia so he could mark him with his teeth. 
"Baby," Melkor whined. "But...but, Leithrien--" 
"She needs to learn self-control, remember?" Mairon said. "So, she gets to watch and gain self-control while I teach you to listen." 
My husband ceased his assault of kisses on Melkor and turned to me. "Now, darling, keep your hands away from your sweet, little self and do not squirm. It will only make things worse for you later," he said. "Trust me, beauty. You will not be a happy elleth afterward." 
I watched as my boys interacted with one another. It was torturous to not be involved in what they were doing and the temptation to give myself what my heart desired burned. I tried slipping my hand slowly underneath my skirts, but Mairon caught sight of what I was doing and growled.
"You are quite the naughty thing, aren't you, Leith?" the Maia hissed. "Melkor, take off your belt. Now." 
Melkor obeyed and pulled off the thick, long leather belt from his trousers. The god's pants became loose and hung dangerously low. I couldn't take my eyes off the skin being shown. Mairon grabbed hold of my chin and forced me to look at him. 
"No," was all he said. I gasped as he took my lips harshly in his, his teeth dragged across my lips, then his tongue danced over the bite marks that were making my lips swell. I could feel the wetness dripping down between my legs. I whimpered and just about began to beg for more, for my boys to do what they wanted to me. 
Melkor was busy trying to make himself cum since Mairon wasn't doing the job for him. His groans were enough to make me tremble in my seat and my husband wasn't happy about it. 
He took his master's belt and tied my right wrist to the arm of my chair, then removed his own belt from his trousers to wrap around my left wrist and tie it down to the opposite arm of the chair. 
"Shit, you look so pretty all tied up like that," Mairon growled out. 
Melkor nodded in agreement, although his mind seemed to be too clouded with desperation for an orgasm to muster up any words. Mairon returned his attention to his lord and continued his mission of leaving bruises across his olive skin. Melkor's hand went to the back of Mairon's head and pulled his hair. 
"No, Melkor! Do not pull my fucking hair! Only Leithrien gets to do that," Mairon hissed. "She's at least gentle. You're just plain mean." 
"I didn't mean to, you little blond asshole!" Melkor said. "Just for that, you are giving me head right now." 
Melkor shoved the Maia's head down in between his legs. Mairon, however, did not protest as much as I thought he would, being the dominant one in our relationship. Instead, he swallowed the god whole without trouble. Melkor chuckled, then moaned his praises to the blond. 
"This so isn't funny!" I yelled as I rubbed my legs together. "Dickheads! Both of you!" 
"Baby, hush," Melkor said, eyes fluttering closed. "Your husband is doing fantastic. I would give him a ten out of ten." 
I laid my head back and closed my eyes. "I hate both of you. I hate you both so much." 
"Yah, I bet ya do, da'wing," the blond drew out through a mouth full of god-cock. 
Valar, I was going to get them back. 
Elvish translations
Vartyo, lenna mecin. - Servant, leave, please.
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madelainesvixens · 5 years
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CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT: CHAPTER FOUR | SWEET CHILD O’ MINE
Saturday, October 3rd
12:00
Marty showed up at the diner with a couple guys from the team, a herd of blue and yellow jackets passing through the single door.
''Jones!'' Marty's voice called, seeing him balancing empty plates in one hand and drinks in the other. FP looked up when he heard his name. ''Where were you last night? You know it's a rule to be present at every after-match parties.''
Unknown to the public eye, the Bulldogs have a book of rules they must follow to be a part of the team. At the start of every season, all new players have to sign the book and agree to follow all rules. If one violated a rule and, by example didn't attend an after-match party, Marty threatened to kick them out of the team. Except, Coach still had the last word on who was in the team and not so...Marty can shove his rules up his ass.
''Sorry man, I had a...stomach flu,'' FP covered up, hoping Marty wouldn't press in for more infos. ''I threw up on the way home and didn't stop until two in the morning. Trust me, it was best I stayed home.''
The bulldog frowned. ''Shouldn't you be at home if you were sick?''
Caught. Think fast, FP.
''Weirdly enough, I'm feeling brand new. So, maybe it was more of an upset stomach than stomach flu.''
Marty hummed, still perplexe. ''Better show up on Friday.'' FP nodded at his captain. ''Now, bring me my usual. With an extra onion rings order. I'm so hungry, I could eat a whole cow.''
''Coming right up!''
.
18:54
Some spent their Saturday night at the Twilight drive-in, making out in a car with a movie in the background while the party animals liked to get ready for parties with their girlfriends or pre-gaming at their best bud's house. FP, he, was stuck at the diner, wiping the counter and tables clean.
It was nearing seven o'clock and the diner was almost empty except for a couple sharing a booth and an man in his forties at the counter. The latter stood and left a twenty on the counter, right next to his empty plate. FP nodded at the man, grabbing the dollar bill and politely wished him a good evening. Putting the cloth over his shoulder, FP cashed in the money in the register, putting the rest in his apron's pocket as tip.
While he was doing so, the bell above the door signed, signaling a new customer walked in.
''Hey handsome. I'll have a vanilla milkshake and an order of fries. Don't burn them.''
FP's eyes snapped upwards to meet the figure that had previously interrupted the stillness of the diner. A smirk formed on his face as his eyes lander on the girl that haunted his dreams. She had told him she'd show up at the diner yesterday. Like promised, there she stood.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Alice had asked, sitting up in FP's bed, smoking a cigarette in nothing but her underwear.
FP stared at the ceiling, still naked under the blanket, savoring the intimate moment. “I’m working.”
“Until…” She raised an eyebrow, using an old plate on FP's nightstand to use as ashtray.
“Until eight.”
“And after that?”
He thought for a moment, playing the busy card. ''I don't know. I might go to Fred's.''
''What would you say if I passed by?''
FP looked up at the blonde, furrowing his eyebrows. ''At Pop's?''
She nodded, taking the last puff of her cigarette and killing it in the plate. She set it aside and joined FP, sliding a leg on each side of his hips. The teenager watched her with hungry eyes, his hands coming up automatically to knead at her butt.
“Then, I'll be going home, I guess.”
''No burger?''
''No burger,'' she confirmed.
FP frowned in confusion. ''How can you come at Pop's without ordering a burger? It's Pop's trademark menu! Along with milkshakes.''
The boy went to work and prepared Alice's milkshake
''I'm simply not hungry for a burger.'' She paused, leaving over the counter a bit, exposing her decolté. FP bit down his bottom lip, swallowing his burning envy to reach out but figured it was inappropriate to grope someone in a familial diner - even more so when you work there. ''I'm keeping space for the dessert.''
The raven haired boy raised a suggestive eyebrow, watching her as she grinned down at him. ''May I ask you what you are having for desert?''
FP placed the vanilla milkshake on the counter, right in front of her.
Alice gave him a thoughtful look. ''I'm not sure yet.'' She picked the cherry from the whipped cream mountain and put it whole in the mouth, twisting her tongue expectedly so the tail would knot.
She pulled it out of her mouth, setting the perfectly knotted cherry tail next to her milkshake and took a sip.
FP called an order of fries from Pop and the man send one back immediately. He set the basket on the counter, right in front of the vanilla milkshake when the blonde biker caught something from the corner of her eye.
''Does it work?''
She pointed at an old jukebox with yellow and orange lights by the doors of the diner.
FP nodded. ''Yes. Although no one uses it, Pop insists to keep it. He says it reminds the customers of the diner's roots.''
''Does it plays good music? I swear if I hear another Backstreet Boys hit I'm gonna smash my head against the counter.''
''You have a hatred for boy bands?'' FP asked, amused.
She shrugged, taking a fry between her fingers, cutting it in two with her teeth. ''Meh. Not my cup of tea.''
''What do you listen to?''
''Wait and see.''
Pulling out a few coins from her pocket, Alice walked over to the jukebox and tapped the glass, following the rhythm of a melody, while reading the titles available. Def Leppard, Michael Jackson, Prince, Tina Turner, Aerosmith, Whitney Houston, Poison. In the end, she pressed an orange button and choose Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N Roses.
From his spot behind the counter, FP watched as Alice swayed her hips to the side, following the beat of the song, as the sound of guitar filled the diner. He should be heading to the kitchen and help Pop with the orders but Alice had all his attention. Sorry, Pop.
.
20:07
After his shift ended, FP said goodnight to Pop and switched his uniform for proper clothes. He usually didn't bother changing and just walked home in his work clothes but, if he were to see Alice Smith after his shift, the greasy and smelly uniform had to go. He joined Alice outside the diner and they took the road in direction to FP's house. Only, as they took Elm street, FP stopped in his track on the sidewalk, seeing his dad's truck in the driveway. Fuck.
Instead, turned around and headed to Alice's.
It was FP's first time on the Southside and, although he would never admit it, he was a bit creeped out. He's heard so many bad things about Southside citizens.
Forty minutes later, they reached Alice's house and FP was surprised to see a trailer. He knew she lived on the Southside - aka the 'poor' side of Riverdale - so, he hadn't expected a fucking castle. He wasn't ignorant.
Alice pulled out her keys from her backpack and unlocked the door. The second the trailer it was shut, FP had his lips on her, pushing the blonde against the back of the door. He used his knee to part her legs, rubbing expertively against her middle. Alice moaned, her body already on fire under FP's touch.
She dropped her keys and backpack right at the entrance, creating a loud noise inside the trailer. FP shrugged off his jacket, Alice doing the same with her, the rest of their clothes and shoes quickly leaving their bodies as she led them to her bed.
They got to the bed, Alice straddling FP and taking control.
Usually, FP wasn't a fan of dominant girls. He liked to be the alpha in every situations - and that included in bed. He liked to be in control and guide where it goes but, with Alice, it was different. He wanted her on top. He liked when she had control on him and he would let her do all she wanted with his body - but, he's not going to tell her that.
He had a reputation to maintain.
Alice's hands were in FP's raven hair, tugging at the roots as he sucked on her nipple, flicking the other between his fingers. She moaned, loving the feeling of his tongue on her. Although the pleasure was good, she pulled away and pushed him so he was laying back on the bed, scooting closer on his stomach, sitting right under his pecs, letting him feel the wetness through her underwear. FP licked his lips, hands running up her thighs.
He grabbed her and flipped positions with her so Alice was now the one laying on the bed. His fingers lightly dances across her skin, running up and down her legs as he brought their lips back together. Alice closed her eyes and waited for his fingers to make their way up to her underwear. FP ran the tip of his middle finger between her legs and Alice sighed into his mouth as all of her attention flooded to the work of his finger against her underwear, her heart beat instantly accelerating.
“FP,” she breathed against his lips.
He smirked, continuing to stroke his finger along her clothed centre. ''How's does this feels, Ali?''
She shuddered uncontrollably as his middle finger curled and found the very top of her already swollen clitoris, making her unable to talk.  Her body was defying her mind and responding to his touch more and more as each second ticked by. The blonde instinctively pushed herself backwards against his finger, desperate to feel more of him.
Her hands snaked up his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin before clawing at it, leaving red marks.
Wetness coated FP's finger as he pushed it in and out of her. For a second, he thought to add another but, instead, he pulled back completely and wiped his finger on the sheet. FP raised on his knees and sat between her legs, stopping for a second, staring at Alice and admiring her - almost - naked body. Blond curls cascading over her shoulder, plump lips reddened from all the kissing, the curves of her full breasts, nipples hard and asking to be played with - again.
''Why did you stop?'' she asked, both confused and frustrated.
The raven haired boy snapped out of his trance, getting back to business. Slowly, he pulled Alice's underwear down her legs and discarded them on the floor.
The seconds passed and his erection was getting difficult to ignored, still confined under the cotton of his boxers. Patience, he reminded himself.
FP scooted himself down on the bed and positioned himself between the blonde's legs, anticipating what was going to happen. Alice was a lucky one, only a few girls had the privilege to get the special treatment from the MVP. Forsythe Pendleton Jones II did not go down on every girls. His strong hands pushed her knees further apart, creating more room. Alice propped herself on her elbows and looked down, locking eyes with FP. Keeping eye contact, he dipper his head and kissed her inner thigh, sending shivers through her entire body. FP kissed higher and higher until he reached her middle and-
Alice threw her head back, fingers gripping the sheets, the second FP's lips touched her clit. Yes.
.
Monday, October 5th
17:50
FP pushed the button to turn off his shower, grabbing his royal blue towel to wrap it around himself. He paddled over to the locker area to dry himself and get dressed when the locker room door was pushed open and closed loudly. FP brushed it off, thinking a guy from the team had forgot something like their cleats or jersey.  
He expected a loud voice to resonate through the locker room, typical of Bulldogs but, the room stayed quiet, except for a clicking sound of shoes. FP pulled his brows together. Maybe it was the janitor? Mr. Greenfeld was avery quiet person. But, there was no sound of wheels or chemical cleaners bottles swishing around in the cart.
Not dwelling on that, FP put away his shower stuff in his toiletries bag and was about to untie his towel to dry off when a voice startled him.
''That back's looking mighty fine, Jones.''
FP whirled around. What the fuck?! His alert eyes softened when he saw the girl that haunted his dreams, a wicked grin across her plump lips, standing by a row of locker. ''What the hell are you doing here? If Coach sees you-''
Alice shook her head, taking a few steps forward, crossing the locker room. ''No need to worry. I saw him pull out of the parking lot two minutes ago when I parked my bike.''
''Your bike?!''
The new information made FP laugh. Until FP caught Alice's name in detention, he used to always refer to her as 'biker girl' because of her leather jacket but, it turned out she was a real biker. That's...hot.
She stepped over the wooden bench separating the two rows of locker and joined FP on the other side. FP watched her getting closer, biting down his lip in anticipation. Less than a couple inches was separating them, now.
Alice leaned to close the gap, stopping just before their lips touched. ''Do you have anything one you?'' she asked in a whisper.
Nodding, FP pressed their lips together, one of his hands coming up to cup her jaw. Although their kissed were urgent and intense most of the time, they were capable of soft kisses too. Alice ran her hands from his waist to his shoulder blades, feeling them flex beneath her palms. Water was still dripping from his damp hair and onto his back and chest, adding to the sexiness of the moment.
Mimicking her movement, he untied her flannel at the front, revealing a black bra. The Bulldog trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking on her skin to bruise it lightly - nothing too noticeable. Alice moaned, feeling her her nipples hardening behind her bra. She reached back and unclasped it, freeing them. She could feel herself dampening between her legs as his lips and tongue continued to play skilfully. FP's hands came up to her breasts, massaging them, pressing the flats of his palms against her aching nipples.
They pulled back so she could free herself from her jeans and boots and, to FP's surprise, she shifted to her knees and, with one light tug, FP's towel dropped to the floor and she leant forwards, holding his dick steadily in her hand as she kissed around his groin and thighs.
“Enjoying that?” She flicked up her eyes to FP, who was smirking down at her. She slid her lips from him and licked along the length of his shaft once more, keeping her eyes on his.
She sat back on her feet and smiled.
FP banged his head against a locker. ''Very much so.''
.
19:15
The second FP got home, his after-sex 'glow' was chased away.
''What's that?'' Forsythe asked, raising an assortment of college applications in his left hand.
Shit. He found them. Panic rose inside FP's head.
''The school's counselor gave them to us. It's nothing, Dad.'' He tried to snatched them back from his old man's grasp but Forsythe abruptly pulled them away of his son's reach.
Forsythe pointed an accusing finger at FP, eyes narrowed and menacing. ''Don't lie to me, Boy!''
He stepped closer to FP and the latter backed away until his back hit the wall. For a second, FP thought he was going to hit him. He didn't.
''Us, Jones's don't go to college. We work at the factory. Like me, like your grandfather, like your great grandfather, like-''
''I don't want to work at the factory, Dad! I want to be the first Jones to go to college.''
He wanted to study marketing with Fred so they could, one day, start their own business together. Fred and him had talked about it during the summer and it became their secret little project. They had no idea what they wanted to start a business in but, they had time to figure it out. College was months away and their business won't see the day of light until a couple years.
Forsythe laughed. ''Who made you believe you could get into a college? College is for intelligent kids with big money. Don't think that because you're a part of the football team that colleges will want you. It counts for jackshit in a college application.'' And then, the man ripped the papers in half right in front of FP's face.
NEXT CHAPTER (X)
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Chapter 29
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A/N: Here is the next chapter! Please note that this will be the last one for about 2 weeks, hopefully sooner! I will be taking a mini break but will be back with more Harry and Addy very soon!
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“Without further adieu, please welcome our spectacular curator who designed this exhibit. Miss Adalyn Mackenzie everyone!” Michael, the director of the museum clapped his hands together angling his body towards Addy welcoming her to the podium.
With a smile Adalyn stepped carefully to the stage ensuring she would not slip in her heels in front of all the people gathered at the museum. Today was the opening of her new exhibit at the Imperial War Museum she had worked so hard on the past few weeks. It was indeed a miracle Addy had completed it by the deadline. Beaming with pride she lifted her head up to see nearly a hundred people gathered. Gently grasping the edges of the wooden podium she began her speech.
“Thank you Michael for the warm welcoming. It is a pleasure to be here with you all today to be part of this wonderful new exhibit opening. Myself and many others who have dedicated numerous hours to make this display possible for all of you to see today are very excited to share it all with you.” Inhaling a quick breath her eyes scanned the crowd noticing the cameras clicking away. The same cameramen that hounded her outside the doors of the museum this morning before work. Breath Addy you are at work. You can’t runaway now. Don’t let them take this from you too.
“The Ira and Rose Nichols exhibit takes us back to the second world war. A young man, Ira, had married the love of his life, Rose; the day before he was deployed to a war he willingly took part of to defend his loved ones. Throughout the absence of her husband, Rose took to art to fill the void while her heart stayed with Ira through his days in battle, fighting for her across the world, fighting each day to come back to her. The exhibit here showcases those pieces of art that the Nichols family has generously donated; we thank their grandchildren that are graciously with us today to join us on this special occasion. The history and love shown through Rose’s sketches, paintings and letters to Ira are a beautiful testament to the struggles of the families and loved ones left behind in the time of war. It is without further wait that I officially open the Ira and Rose Nichols Memorial Exhibit! Please enjoy and I will be happy to answer any questions for you inside the exhibit.”
The crowd applauded her enthusiastically. Turning her back she released a deep breath thanking that part of the day was over with. Now she would have to stand inside the exhibit ready for an onslaught of questions; knowing she would not be able to avoid them asking about Harry.
Her mind drifted to him, remembering the long conversation they had the previous night. An instant smile upturned the corner of her mouth the second he came to memory.
*Flashback to the previous night.
“You all comfy with Chance?” His deep voice caused her heart to skip a beat. Addy already missed him and it hadn’t even been more than a couple of hours since they said goodbye.
“Yes and your warm cozy sweater.” The soft fabric clung to her skin making her feel snug and relaxed breathing in his scent with each steady breath. His lighthearted laugh rang out through the phone, instantly bringing a sweet smile to her lips. Closing her eyes she wished with everything she had for him to be next to her. To feel his warm body tight against hers, his arms securing themselves around her protecting her from whatever may come.
Hearing the stroking of keys Addy raised her eyebrow. Why was Harry working this late at night?
“Are you working… at this hour?”
“Yeah sorry babe. I am a bit behind with some Sentebale things I was supposed to have done a few days ago.” Hearing him sigh he leaned back into his chair, the material squeaking underneath him. “And before you say anything. No I was not late because of you.” Realizing what the prince had said, he found it best to reassure Addy.
Yawning her mouth opened wide, her heavy eyelids begging her to go to sleep. “Harry… I think I should let you work. It’s been a long day and I have a very early morning tomorrow.” Groggily speaking she turned on her side, pulling the covers up around her body.
“Good luck tomorrow Addy. I know you will do great.”
“Goodnight Henry. I miss you…” Her sweet tired voice caused his heart to flutter imagining how adorably comfortable she would be looking right now if he was there.
“Night baby. Muah. Get some sleep.”
End Flashback*
Hearing his lighthearted laugh again made her worries instantly drift away. Even though it had felt like ages since she was in his presence, it had been a mere day, but she missed him terribly. Clinging on to the fact that at the end of all of this, they would be able to spend the evening together like they had planned.
An elbow nudged her back to reality looking to her left beside her to see Eva smirking. “Nice speech. I bet the press will go crazy with that one.” Barking a laugh at Addy’s expense, Eva tossed her head back. Groaning Addy shook her head desperately wanting to hide away in her office. Why did they have to be here?
Following in behind Michael she positioned herself inside the exhibit walking around slowly internally smiling proudly at the work she had accomplished.
“May I ask you a question?” A deep male voice caught her off guard. Turning around she smiled with a nod.
“Yes of course!” She held her smile.
“Was this exhibit inspired by your boyfriend Prince Harry?” The man held up a voice recorder in the space between them. Glancing down she focused on the red bleeping dot indicating that it would be recording her every word. She read the words etched on ‘property of the SUN.’
Taking a few moments to formulate her response she had to bury the anger budding inside. How dare they even think that? I am my own person! Harry has nothing to do with it! Addy wanted to scream out loud in front of all these people. To say that she was annoyed was an understatement, but she knew how it would be perceived if she was rude to the man.
“The exhibit is a dedication to Ira and Rose and their struggle in being apart from one another. It tells us their story through pictures and was inspired by the sacrifice on both of their parts. To say that it was inspired by anyone else but the people who knew them best is a disgrace to their name. Please be respectful of their sacrifice.” Being proud with how she handled the question she ended it with a smile looking right in the reporter’s eyes telling him that he was not going to get the story he wanted today. “Please enjoy. My colleague Eva will gladly answer any more of your questions.”
Moving on through to the back of the exhibit she took a moment to calm herself, but before she could a little girl came running up beside her tugging on her skirt to gain Addy’s attention.
“Avery!” Her mother scolded her harshly. “Be nice and talk to the nice lady.”
“Hello there Avery.” Addy smiled warmly, crouching down to be on the child’s level.
“Mommy told me that if I painted every day I could have my paintings in a museum like this one!��� The blonde haired child proudly beamed up at Addy.
“You’re mother is right! You have to work hard and have fun and one day you will be!” Noticing a piece of paper the girl was holding Addy she angled her head coming up with an idea.
“Is that one of your paintings Avery?” The little girl nodded proudly, holding it up to show Adalyn a painting of splashed together colors in every which way.
“Wow! You are very talented!” Addy took the painting in her hands pretending to analyze it more carefully. “You know what Avery? Do you think I could have this painting? I have the perfect spot for it!”
“Where?! Yes you can!” Avery bounced up and down excitedly. “Mommy mommy! I am going to have my painting in the museum!” She pulled hard on her mother’s hand jumping around her in a state of pure joy.
“Follow me Miss Avery.” Addy held out her hand feeling tiny fingers grasp it tightly. The little girl was a body full of joy bringing the widest smile to Addy’s face. This was the part of her job she had enjoyed the most, seeing someone get as excited for art as she did.
Hearing the clicks of a camera Addy snapped her head up seeing hungry camera men. Dropping Avery’s hand she told her mother to meet her around the corner. They would not leave her alone, even in her place of work. Addy was more irritated than ever seeing them invading her like that for the third time today. Wasn’t there a bigger story then her out there? Her life was not that exciting, she could assure them of that.
“Hey Billy.” Walking up to the security guard she knew this would make matters worse, but for the time being she did not care. “I need those men with cameras out. They are not part of the media that are covering this officially. Please escort them out of the building and off the property.”
“I would love to Addy.” Billy responded in his deep husky voice. The man was literally terrifying, but the kindest, most gentle teddy bear of a guy. “If I may ask…” Addy’s eyes begged him not to ask him about Harry.
“Do you need an escort out to your vehicle today?”
Sighing she wanted to with every inch of her being to take him up on his offer, but what would that look like? It would be just as bad as Harry escorting her out. Shaking her head she nodded her reply.
“That is very kind of you Billy. I am alright today, thank you.” Recomposing herself she smiled warmly.
“Well the offer still stands whenever you need. Had I seen them this morning I would have helped you get inside.” He bore a concerned look for Addy. He had caught the tail end of her coming inside the building, nearly having to push her way through the crowd of paparazzi camping outside the museum.
“I appreciate that Billy!” Patting his shoulder Addy made her way around the corner where Avery and her mother were patiently waiting for her.
“Ready? Let’s go!” Addy began to lead them away into another part of the museum. Curiosity over came her, causing the need to glance back over her shoulder wanting to see them being escorted out. Sighing with relief she could now focus on her job.
“Is this an ok spot Avery?” Addy stopped in front of a spare ball lined with random pieces of art from the community. A new project they were piloting as part of a community relations agenda.
“Right here where everyone can see it?” The stagnant gleaming smile on Avery’s lips brought Addy to mirror her smile in return.
“Yes. Where everyone can see it!” Taking the painting from the little girl, Adalyn hung it pride. Writing Avery’s name beside it she glanced down to the arm attempting to hug her waist that was just out of her reach.
“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Avery squeezed her waist as hard as she could causing Addy to take a step back nearly stumbling in her heels.
“Do you want a picture with your mother Avery so you can show all of your classmates?” Her mother dug out her phone handing it to Addy while mouthing a silent ‘thank you.’ Looking through the camera display she couldn’t help but giggle at Avery’s wide smile with her thumb sticking up proudly in the air. Her mother standing beside her beaming happily with shining eyes.
“There you go!” Handing the phone back to Avery’s mother she wrapped her arms around Adalyn unexpectingly. Hugging her tightly the woman whispered in her ear.
“Thank you for making my daughter smile today. She has been having a hard time with my husbands and I divorce recently. This meant the world to her Adalyn. Harry is lucky to have such a wonderful woman by his side. You are a keeper in my books.” Breaking away from the hug, the woman squeezed her arm with a silent endearing smile.
“It’s my pleasure…” were the only words Addy was able to force out. She was in shock after hearing Harry’s name, not entirely expecting to hear those words coming out of her mouth.
Sitting in her office chair Addy leaned her head back closing her eyes. It had been an overwhelming busy day with the exhibit opening and this was the first time she was able to sit down all day. Hearing heels stepping into her office she opened one eye knowing exactly who was leaning against her door frame.
“So Prince Harry huh?” Eva popped her hip out to the side with a wink. “You got the better one out of the two in my opinion…” Taking a seat opposite of Adalyn she continued her teasing.
“I really don’t want to talk about it here Eva.” Groaning Addy swayed back and forth in her chair noticing a delivery of flowers were on her desk.
Catching Addy’s gaze Eva looked down to it reaching for it before Addy could even speak. “Ooooh I bet it’s from Harry!” Eva stood up waving the package in the air. “I bet he was the one sending you flowers all the time right?” Her stomach flipped suddenly remembering Harry mentioning he never sent her flowers at work.
“Let me see that please!” Reaching out her hand Addy needed to see who it was from. She wanted to get to the bottom of who ever were sending her these flowers, especially since Harry had claimed it was not him.
“Eva please…” Growing tired of her teasing, Addy’s voice became growly.
“Alright alright.” Tossing them gently in her hands Eva flashed a quick smile. “We need to go for drinks so you can tell me all about your new boy toy!” Eva spoke while slowly closing the door shut giving Addy some well needed privacy.
Tearing apart the wrapping Addy was hit with a sweet fragrance seeing pink tulips gathered together in a beautiful bouquet. Her heart was secretly wishing that they were from Harry. Searching for the note Addy saw a white piece of paper tied onto the stems of the flowers. Breaking it off she quietly read the note.
“He took you from me. A prince who will never love you like I do. We will meet again this I promise you. In this world or the next.”
Dropping the note from her trembling hands her chest began to tighten trapping the air inside, not allowing her to breath. Her mind immediately was screaming out inside pulling all of the oxygen to its source while it ran wild with thoughts.
He took you from me….
In this world or the next…
It was obvious that Harry was not the sender in regards to this mans letter to her. The room was starting to spin, her mind felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen desperately trying to remind herself to breathe. A sense of dread was crushing her chest as her heart pounded into a wild state of hyper-vigilance.
Not able to move her body Addy sat there in her office quietly attempting to calm herself down. Finally able to breathe innately she focused her mind on another matter. Her restless mind was flashing through the pictures of any one she thought that could or would have sent her all of these flowers.
Realizing that this was an obsession made her more committed to finding out who he was. This was not merely a kind gesture… it had been a dedication that had gone on for months and months near the time that Harry had left. The anxiety within her raged on crashing through her mind again jumbling the thoughts in her brain. Why would someone be obsessed with her? Shaking her head as each memory popped into her mind. Scanning through them mentally she stopped.
Her mind whispered his name… finally making everything fall into perfect sense. She had found the missing puzzle piece her mind was trying to solve. Growing stiff her body was preparing itself for an unknown attack.
Deep down she wished it not to be true, but she knew.
Addy had seen him numerous times thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. That he was a mere pigment of her imagination. Across the street from the bakery she had seen him. Outside her building she had seen him walking away. Her mind kept flashing through all the times she felt like someone was watching her. Cringing inside she dared not to speak his name scared that it would make it all come true.
It was Jake who had been sending her these flowers….
‘He took you from me. A prince who will never love you like I do.’
Her mind flashed back to the day he had showed up on her doorstep asking her to marry him again. Addy had underestimated him, not giving him a second thought in the matter.
Jake had been stalking her.
He wouldn’t do anything right? He was harmless.  She thought repeatedly until she believed it. It was his way of dealing with their break up, a harmless attempt to get her back in his life.
At least she hoped…
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alyarmy · 6 years
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Chapter 1: Baby songs “Live, love laugh and be happy….” I would put the baby on the bed, changing her diaper and bicycling her little legs — as I sang about those dementedly happy birds chirruping through the day. In turn, each girl gurgled and giggled at their silly mama beginning a brand new adventure of a day.
Music playing throughout the day was a family tradition, there wasn’t a room in Daddy’s house without a radio, a stereo, or a guitar. Now, as I didn’t have 35 musical appliances, I just became creative. As we sat on the porch, swinging lazily in the afternoon — Gatsby the mischievous feline playing at my feet — I just reversed the baby monitor. I had the receiver next to the stereo and the speaker entertained us with an eclectic mix of songs, rhythms and chants. As they grew, they developed definite opinions — in the baby years it was mostly mama’s choice. Bath time usually had “Edelweiss,” and that little white duck awfully busy with what he oughta… and silky curls nestled into my neck as I carried them to bed, we looked at the stars and I sang, “goodnight, my someone, goodnight my love…”
Chapter 2: Toddler tunes Giving my loves every advantage — I wanted them to fall asleep to amazing music that would make their sweet baby dreams grow smarter by the night…. Hey, it was the theory. I love way too much music for it just to be Mozart, so I alternated classical and jazz. It wasn’t long before my older said she really would prefer the classical — the more melodic the better → Pachelbel, Liszt, Schubert, and Chopin. My baby fell in love early and deeply with Charlie Parker and John Coltrane, with a smattering of Miles thrown into the mix. That thing, you know, that people say when you have 2 kids of the same gender — “oh, how nice you already have experience”. Eh, not so much. My girls grew up smart, and fierce and funny, and completely their own persons. Some things were shared — from a love of zydeco, to Disney, to the beloved monsters of Sesame Street and the often played Prince of Egypt soundtrack — having them ask me for a song as we drove from activity to errand to home was always and ever a joy. True confession, as they got older and took over the clicky in the car, I was sometimes nonplussed as they skimmed past songs I loved — to find “their” songs. Funny, the older they get, the more entertaining it becomes for me to see what songs they choose.
Chapter 3: Duets I was never one of those moms to dress their kids in matching outfits — à la the Von Trapps. Yet, every now and then they found something that sparked their creativity. Yes, they did do “Sisters” once or twice, mostly because they did it better than Tommy & I. I think one of the first that they had spot on, down to the inflections was “Loathing” from Wicked. It was funny, and just perfect to watch. Next came the remarkable “Together Again” from Young Frankenstein: the Musical — so perfect that Igor (and his hump, what hump?) made a Halloween appearance that year. Probably the silliest, and weirdest came from the Feeling’s video for “I love it when you call”. They had every gesture, coordinated and mimicked that it was sometimes hard to drive the car because noticing them in the backseat made me giggle helplessly. And then there were the times the 3 of us (me mostly trying not to sing too loud and too offkey) would belt out Bon Jovi, Billy Joel, Kasey Chambers, or Kelly Clarkson. I won’t even mention the times, they tried to show me how to “pop”, or otherwise be hip…
Chapter 4: Solos Of course, as I said they are not the same — and over the years, watching what they like, dislike and kind of obsess over has been like a movie with the greatest soundtrack ever. There was one summer where “Jai Ho” was played so often, I found myself dreaming to its rhythm. Marina is a bittersweet listen for me, as she reaches in and stirs up all sorts of memories. Both of them could ID Bruce Hornsby and Mary Chapin Carpenter pretty much from the womb — but over the years some of my “artists” have fallen into the scrap heap of the girls’ soundtracks. For one — she’s happy to never ever listen to Sting or Tom Petty (gasp!) — pretty much the only song she’ll endure is the Moulin Rouge version of “Roxanne”, which is cool, but…. The other saves her disdain for John Mellencamp and James Taylor — not quite the bodyblow of the first, but yikes! That’s ok — I was frightened that my parents owned Pat Boone albums, the thought still  makes me cringe a bit — and if no one ever plays Michael Bolton around me, I’d be perfectly content.
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Chapter 5: and now…. I’m incredibly lucky — the notes that bond us into the melody we’ve become get shared wherever we are. If any of us hears music, or finds a soundtrack we’ll tell the others. Not always will it resonate with the others — but enough so we can feel each other’s tempo.
Watching them become women has been the greatest symphony I’ve ever experienced (in full technicolor and surround sound). Sending them both into a world fraught with discordance this fall terrifies me. I keep thinking there are songs, and stories, and adventures waiting for us to do. Time is worse than a relentless metronome, it just keeps ticking the moments past. All I can hope is that somewhere, among the sunrises and sunsets, the soundtracks and the syncopation — maybe I’ve taught them some notes, some chords that they can weave into their own melodies. Underneath the free, fierce, and glorious songs they create, I hope they will always feel my love, like a heartbeat, a rhythm to fall back on when their own songs are muted and to fly above when life crescendos.
Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it … Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture And save it from the funny tricks of time Slipping through my fingers Slipping through my fingers all the time
Take care, Aly
Empty Nest Blues in waltz time Chapter 1: Baby songs “Live, love laugh and be happy….” I would put the baby on the bed, changing her diaper and bicycling her little legs -- as I sang about those dementedly happy birds chirruping through the day.
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