Prince Galindo's husband King Minmose is pleasant, handsome, intelligent, and seemingly quite interested in him. A perfect situation - if only King Minmose would not avoid their marriage bed for no reason Galindo can seem to figure out.
Bookmarked by heliminium (lunathium)
07 Aug 2021
Liam eases into the hallway, looking out at the row of cubicles and the humans standing frozen inside them. Trisha has her phone half raised to her ear, wide eyes fixed on the elevator.
Oh, Liam realizes, sure his eyes are just as wide as he stares at the naked figure standing in front of the elevator doors. It’s not an intruder. It’s the werewolf, with the human with the briefcase a couple steps behind him.
The werewolf’s nostrils flare as he takes in the room. His thick, heavy cock twitches as the werewolf breathes in.
Then his eyes lock directly onto Liam.
Werewolf settlements have very specific laws about what werewolves can claim from humans, as a newcomer to town learns first hand.
Bookmarked by lunathium
07 Aug 2021
“You make swords for Mirans.”
“Whoever told you that was wrong,” Nikolay said, flat. His whole body was chilled with fear now, the sweat on the back of his neck prickling in the cold. Could the Miran tell?
“Oh, come now,” the Miran replied. He spread his hands in what could be a conciliatory gesture, but it was ruined by the knife; he sheathed it on his belt. “Just because our countries are opposed doesn’t mean we have to be.”
All Nikolay wants is to be left alone in his forge. All Cillian wants is Nikolay to make him a sword the likes of which Mira has not seen in an age. As they grow closer together, the past grows closer still...
- Part 1 of Mira & Jehan Oneshots
Ever since her father's injury, Keira has come back home to help around the house. That's all well and fine until her father's farmhand points out that she can hear what Keira gets up to in the middle of the night and knows it's because of her.
“Oh, I’m sure you wear your pride openly to show you don’t care for the folk here, but underneath it all, I know you. I know what you want.”
To that, Eleanore gave a short laugh, cocking an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
“Me,” she said, so certain of it. So knowing. And Eleanore truly did laugh.
“Your friendship?” She said, “You presume too much.”
The woman’s hand came, snaking underneath her chin and Eleanore felt the laughter drift away as her face was tilted further up until she was sitting very tall in her chair. There was a dark, knowing look on Camilla’s face, unperturbed by Eleanore’s amusement. “You misunderstand. I do not think you desire friendship. I think you crave something far more intimate.”