the angel and her prince — keigo takami
« his angel, you were his angel. or was he your prince ? your fantasy ? »
— character ; keigo takami x poc fem!reader
— genre ; fluff, maybe angst ?, au fantasy
— warnings ; suggestive content
— a/n ; i wanted to write something that venerated the beauty of the black woman, i hope it's not too lame
you had been watching him for a while from your cloud. keigo takami, the prince of a kingdom with rich lands. he was handsome, strong, young. the princesses only had eyes for him, bla-bla-bla.
but he was a gambler, he had never fallen in love according to your friend Cupid. it was this information that had piqued your curiosity.
what about you ? you were mean. it was mean from you to disappear every time, leaving no trace of your passage after making him completely in love with you.. miss, you had the unfortunate tendency to let him the next day, alone and helpless. only your feverish kisses left a sweet and bitter hint of your lips on his skin. and perhaps sometimes, if luck smiled on him, a feather or two would fall from your majestic wings, to remind him of the graceful angel that you were.
but that never stopped him from wondering when he would see you again.
while you, from your cloud, only looked at him with an amused expression. you left him with his doubts that you were just a mirage.
but why that ? simply because your selfish fear of falling in love with him prevented you from getting together with the young prince.
however, this time you had left him a nice note in your beautiful handwriting, promising him to come back as soon as possible, promising him ever softer caresses and ever more loving kisses. his heart was beating wildly. and that was the effect you were looking for. the mere thought of you gave him an incomparable adrenalin.
that night you promised him finally arrived.
the moon reflected its whitish light on your dark, luscious skin, amplifying the divine air you already naturally exuded. the soft satin sheet partly covered your goddess-like body. a painting worthy of the greatest baroque painters, you were a muse unto yourself. your lips, reddened by the kisses you had offered him, were now blowing sweetness that made him blush.
you were perfect. but this perfection was real, it was not the word you dared to say to a beautiful woman you were meeting for the first time for example. your beauty was complex, supernatural, incomparable, pure.
your smile that you would address to him when he sometimes surprised you with his stupid human features. you remeber this discussion you had with him, the first time you met him.
« i want to buy you all the jewels this land has. it's my duty as a prince, let me embellish you with crystals, gold, and precious prayers. » a narcissistic smile appeared on his beautiful face.
you rolled your eyes. human pretension.
« i already have all the gold in the world, handsome. i am the angel of beauty. »
« so maybe my poems could make you fall in love with me ? »
but, yeah, that smile that could light up an entire city without power. that smile that had the gift of giving a second chance to a wilted flower. it was one of the many things that made you an angel.
but what the prince liked best was surely your stretch marks. those slightly darker brown features on your black skin that could only gratify it. they were witnesses of a natural beauty.
as for your cherry-scented hair, it was strewn with strange golden glitter. a characteristic unique to angels, you had once revealed to him.
these imperfections, or should i say, perfections, were adored by your lover. that's why you were called the angel of beauty. simply because you were the very definition of it.
wait, had he also mentioned the beauty of your wings ? those wings that turned a light and imperceptible pink in the sunlight, and then turned bright white in a darker place. this detail, which he had noticed from admiring you in your secret garden, was perhaps what had charmed you at first.
an angelic laugh, like celestial music, escaped from your lips. you did not yet have the power to read the minds of humans, but you could see that the man in front of you only had eyes for you. and you loved it.
« marry me, y/n. we don't need a ceremony, i can get us two rings now. and we'll just have to make our vows. »
your dark eyes widened slightly.
« don't be silly, my love. »
your words seemed to sadden him a little. your hands came to meet his face which you took in your hands.
« marriage is only a futile and human way to make us belong to each other. but you are already mine, as i am yours, keigo. my embrace doesn't prove it to you enough ? » you say in a honeyed voice.
and also, maybe is it because i can't marry you, takami ? an angel could never live forever with a vile human like you. we are both victims of a romantic tragedy, keigo, you were thinking of yourself.
« i could never stop loving you. » he says in a voice filled with desire.
a strange warmth came over your cheeks. what was happening to you ? could it be the effect of love rubbing off on you ?
« continue to take me as your muse and write these fabulous poems, darling. »
« are you going to break this one's heart too ? » your friend Cupid asks you.
too busy re-tuning your harp, a faint smile lit up your face at the thought of your lover.
« mmh you tell me... i think one of your arrows must have hit me too, Cupid. »
a crisp laugh escaped his lips before he gave you a bored look.
« don't talk nonsense, angels can't fall in love. specially you, the angel of beauty. »
the angel of love was far from imagining that he was wrong.
« oh and by the way, i didn't shoot any arrows at that human, y/n. if he's madly in love with you, it's because of you. »
