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#ROSE WAS SO SAVAGE
hufflepotato-18 · 1 year
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rose: don’t be upset. [chloé] is like this because her mother left her when she was little.
mylène: mine too and i don’t bully marinette.
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useless-englandfacts · 6 months
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Every day I think about the fact that if my mum had been a little cooler she would have given me a different flower name and I could have been Lily Savage. I could have Slayed.
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Happy New Year rockstars! I hope 2024 rocks just as much as 2023, if not more!!!
Enjoy some pics of these silly boys <3
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autisticrosewilson · 2 years
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Characters that have never interacted (to my knowledge) with each other in canon but I'm convinced they've slept together at least once;
Slade Wilson and Midnighter
Slade Wilson and John Constantine
Kate Kane and Harley Quinn
Tara Markov and Jade Nguyen
Vandal Savage and Midpollo (one or both I can't decide
Betty Kane and Selina Kyle (I KNOW I'm right about this, don't question me about it tho, just trust)
Leslie Thompkins and Adeline Kane (I have no excuse or reasoning for this, they were girlfriends back in the day though)
Dinah Lance and Talia Al Ghul (you remember that one time Shiva and Black Canary swapped places? Yeah)
Rose has 100% slept with All of the girls Jason has been shipped with in canon (only the good ones though so Artemis, Mia Dearden, Kara, Essence) I know I'm right on this don't try to argue with me
This is what I have off the top of my head feel free to pitch in with some of your favorite rare pairs though!
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foreverdolly · 6 months
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.
word count: 4.5k
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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.
The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .
There’s you.
And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.
This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.
If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.
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The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?
Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.
The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.
The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.
They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.
No one could save you.
“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.
How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.
“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.
Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.
“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”
You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.
The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.
“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.
He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.
“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.
You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.
“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.
“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.
A pause.
“Please.” And then he went back to eating.
So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.
“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.
Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.
“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”
Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.
“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.
For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.
“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.
He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.
“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”
He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.
“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.
Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.
“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.
“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”
That awful, ugly, no good- 
“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed. 
You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things. 
‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’ 
You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics. 
You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered. 
“Do all women take this long to get ready?” 
You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf. 
He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring. 
He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous. 
“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms. 
You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited. 
You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have. 
“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction. 
Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away. 
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The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth. 
You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm. 
You waited. And waited. And waited. 
“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand. 
There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?  
“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far. 
You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket. 
You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack. 
“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm. 
“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce. 
“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement. 
“No.” 
“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.” 
Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest. 
“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . .  spineless.” 
You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he. 
“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him. 
‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you. 
“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred. 
“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice. 
You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together. 
“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . . 
Aimed at his throat. 
He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him. 
And then he leaned in closer. And closer.
“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.
 You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. .  . the natural musk of his skin. 
“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin. 
He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it. 
“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own. 
Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in. 
“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you. 
He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole. 
They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with. 
When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain. 
But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it. 
‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’ 
His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft. 
“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair. 
Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire. 
And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood. 
“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now. 
“I wanted to.” You conceded. 
“Then you should have tried harder.”
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Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused. 
There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone. 
And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably. 
There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land. 
He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now. 
Like the fact that he had almost kissed you. 
Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you. 
You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now. 
Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating. 
Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped. 
“Atreides.” 
The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized. 
No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . . 
Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger. 
‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier. 
He had been trying to warn you.
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the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!
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adarkandmagicalforest · 3 months
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blood lust
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benjicot blackwood/ofc bracken (elma bracken)
warnings: fight kink, smut, rough oral sex (female receiving), short and sweet
2nd installment: once again, 3rd installment: hunted/hunter
Blackwoods were savages.
That was snarled into her ear from every person in her household, Mother, Father, brothers and even the cooks and maids.
And even if knocked on the back of her head, forcing her to lose all memory of any advice, thought and history: Elma Bracken would've immediately agreed with them when presented with Ben Blackwood.
He was a savage. From every spark of maddening delight every time she clanged the sword she'd stolen at him. His teeth were on display, a horrible display as he met her every swing, his grin broaddening each time she pushed him backward, barking a laugh when she shrilly screamed with frustration, which of course infuriated her all the more. 
She stepped right.
He stepped left. But then, she finally moved unexpectedlyand then his face wavered. The flat edge of her blade rang against his kneecap, causing a painful shout to erupt out of his mouth, much to her deep pleasure. 
Of course then, without any sort of warning, the fucking barbaric, horrible boy had snatched her sword by the blade! Minding naught the cut of the steel, he merely grunted and yanked it out of her hands, throwing it a yard off to the side of their disheveling argument before he rushed forward and tackled her to the ground.
The ground hurt from the force he's used, but she could never bare to hear that she'd lost to a Blackwood.
So Elma hit him. Then, she bit him.
But Ben Blackwood was on top of her, his body lodged between her legs while he attempted to grab her flailing arms that were trying to more solidly sock him on the nose. And that was about when she'd felt it - after her 5th blow against his cheek, when her gold ring had just sliced at his cheek. His cock, very evidently thick ans hard inside of his trousers while he bled on her.
They both knew that she knew. But she didn't care. How could she? What did that matter when there was the priority of winning? Success over a mortal enemy was surely more important than his heavy cock or the damp heat that was increasing between her legs.
So they kept fighting.
Soon, the fucking Blackwood bit her back, right upon her neck, making her hips jerk and a snarl (surely not a moan) come from her parted lips. Then, worse off, he rose his lips up in that snarling smile, she could feel it so, before he opened his mouth and slowly pressed his hot tongue along her throat and up to her ear, tasting her sweat and slightly dirty flesh and making her shiver beneath his body. So she shoved him away, freeing her arm so she might slap him again, hard across the face. The slap was loud, painful, and left a pink imprint of her hand against his cheek. But this only seemed to please him, as his cock was now positively throbbing against her.
Her riding breeches were yanked down in his attempt to wrestle her. They dropped down her milky thighs, baring her flesh to the cool afternoon.
And then Benjicot grinned wildly, devils twirling in his eyes as he suddenly released her wrists and dropped himself lower.
He dodged her kicks, catching one of her dainty ankles in hand before it hit his face. All at once, cool air hit against her cunt for just a single shocking moment - before it was gone just as fast. Her opponent had just shoved his face between her legs, his cackle of success lasting only until he'd pressed his mouth against her and began to hungrily devour her. There was no plan, rhythm or deciding motion, he simply did everything to her. Licking at her wildly, sucking at her cunt as he pleased. He'd even shoved his tongue inside her, she could feel it delving there as if to test her flavor... He'd even risen back up to disgustingly dribble his own spit over her cunt before he forcibly began to grind his flat tongue and face against her mound, then shaking his head like a filthy dog with his tongue grinding so fiercely against her cunt that she was surely sopping wet.
Elma's hands on their own had found their way to his dark hair, gripping it punishingly tight as her choked out cries escaped from her throat at the Blackwood's motion. And then he'd shoved his fingers inside her - thrusting them with reckless abandon once he'd found the angle that forced her to wriggle and squirm - and so he'd stolen her peak, the lurid, dreadfully wet sound still coming from her cunt while his fingers fucked her through the bodywrecking pleasure becoming so loud that Benji's body shook with pleased, cruel laughter. He didn't even stop when it was over, even though she'd just soaked his face. He just kept on, enjoying the sound and taste of her, especially when she yanked on his hair and hit him again, attempting to pull him away from her sensitive cunt. That he seemed to like more than anything, her swats and the pain from her pulling on his hair.
But he built her up again - doing so fast so he could insure that the second peak hurt, just enough so that the pleasure was sharp enough to force the shivers over her body and make her toes curl within her boots, her cries as he swept over her desperate for him to stop and yet desperate for him to continue.
When he finally pulled away, his lower face was shiny and wet, and his eyes were blown out just the way they'd been when they fought with swords.
"Again." The Blackwood son dared.
Elma narrowed her eyes. And then she kicked him, her heel hitting him square in the belly, before she showed him how Brackens rode.
921 notes · View notes
seattlesellie · 1 year
Text
e. williams — moonflower.
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.
warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.
an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗
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enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.
the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.
⋆˙⟡♡
you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.
“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.
“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”
louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.
“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”
“how come?”
“it simply shows, pumpkin’”
louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.
ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.
it reminded you of her.
⋆˙⟡♡
ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.
“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”
“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”
you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”
ellie’s breath caged in her throat.
it already does.
“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.
if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.
if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.
⋆˙⟡♡
sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”
you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.
“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡
the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.
balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.
“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”
you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.
joel.
you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.
you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.
“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.
“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”
joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.
“she’s still into it, huh?”
“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.
“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.
“found it last week while i was patrollin’”
“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.
“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.
“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”
joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”
you nearly choked up.
“joel… you should come with me”
joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.
“maybe next birthday, kid”
joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.
⋆˙⟡♡
12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…
well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.
again.
usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”
“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.
when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.
would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.
instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.
it was her morning voice.
funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.
“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”
“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.
“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.
“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”
the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.
the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.
you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”
ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.
“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.
“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”
she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.
“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.
“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.
ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”
ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.
“can’t taste my own cake?”
“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.
“yes ma’am”
⋆˙⟡♡
you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.
impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.
you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”
“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.
“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”
before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!
she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.
for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.
“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”
ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”
ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?
maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.
laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;
“hey” she whispers.
“hi” you whisper back.
ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”
impatient.
you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”
she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”
ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.
“apollo one”
she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.
“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.
⋆˙⟡♡
apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”
ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”
interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.
“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.
“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”
that she hasn’t. yet.
ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.
“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”
sweet? intoxicating?
“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”
nah, she thinks she might be something worse.
slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.
“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.
“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.
“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”
“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.
slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.
“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”
“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?
she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?
her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.
thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.
“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…
“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.
“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.
you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”
“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.
“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“
oh.
ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.
“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.
“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.
“i have wasps”
“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.
“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.
her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.
doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”
“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.
this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.
⋆˙⟡♡
so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.
with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.
what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?
“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.
shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.
besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.
“so… you wanna open them up or not?”
she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)
“fuck yeah”
you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.
the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.
what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—
“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!
“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”
ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…
“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.
“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”
she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.
“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.
“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”
you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…
“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.
“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”
you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.
“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.
“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”
ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.
one whole minute passes.
“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.
you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.
“i’m in love with you”
you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?
“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.
she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…
you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.
like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.
when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.
“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.
still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.
you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.
swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”
she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.
“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.
with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.
with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”
you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”
“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”
you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.
she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“
“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.
“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?
“explode!”
“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.
you’re fuzzy everywhere.
“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”
you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.
as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.
you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”
“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”
“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—
“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”
when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.
she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”
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smileysuh · 3 days
Text
knight of roses
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🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. The Knight of Roses looks so beautiful as he says his piece, and the idea that he’s already committed to you is one that makes your heart race in your chest. He’s so beautiful- and you’ve tried to deny it for too long. You hate being the girl who falls for the same man that everyone else has their eye on, and Jaehyun has no lack of suitors, especially in court. However, you suppose there’s always legitimacy in the looks of a man who has captured the hearts of many.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, virgin!reader, first time, dirty talk, praise, power imbalance, Jaehyun unties her stupidly royal corset, armor removal, hand job, pussy eating, fingering, stretching out, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k 
🍭 aus. Fantasy au, fairy au, royal au, knight!Jaehyun, princess!y/n, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So this is a fae au, but that’s more the kingdom fantasy side than any overt faerie wings or powers- Jaehyun’s hair is naturally pink, and Yuta has white hair, so that’s going to be the extent of the faerie aesthetic in this- I just wanted to do something royal, and I wanted a unique kingdom set up :) 
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Prologue:
Tourneys of this caliber are unusual. The northern reaches that expand through the Winter kingdom, as well as the Fall lands in the West, are known for their bad weather, not for their celebrations. While the Spring Royals host events, it’s with little regularity. No, this kind of lengthy drinking and fighting fest is a uniquely Summer type of pride and joy. 
It’s the Summer Kingdom’s Prince John’s birthday, and only a princely celebration could merit the expense of this sort of event. 
All the royals, from all four reaches, are here, as well as a host of knights from all sorts of families. Everyone is intent on proving themselves, but none more so than the Princes Yuta from the North, and Doyoung from the West. 
The Winter Prince has a reputation for upholding the traits of his house. He’s fierce, white-haired, and hardened from the cold temperatures and unforgiving terrain he was made in.
The Fall Prince carries some of those more ‘Northern’ aspects, however, where Yuta is more brazen, Doyoung is regal in every sense of the word. His motions are calculated, his blade as sharp as his eyes.
They’re both formidable fighters as the tourney day drags on, however, another favourite has emerged in the past two days that has shocked everyone. ‘The Knight of Roses’ they call him, in reference to the emblem on his chest plate, a man from a lesser house in the Eastern lands.
With pretty pink locks, this Jeong Jaehyun has stolen the hearts of many, however, you’re not so easily swayed, and your brother, John, knows it.
“Who will you be giving your favour to?” Johnny asks, leaning on his watching throne to get closer to you in the royal box where your family sits to watch the tourney.
“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, although, your gaze shifts to Prince Yuta as he pulls on his black dragon helm. 
“Don’t even think about it,” Johnny grins. “Yuta is a savage. You don’t want him to get any ideas.”
“Ideas?” you counter with a smirk.
“First it’s your favour he asks for, then it’s your hand,” Johnny points out.
“I’m too young to marry,” you insist. “Maybe I’ll never take a husband.”
Johnny sighs. It’s a well-known fact within your close family that you don’t want to adhere to political protocols. You have a wildness in your heart, and your mother has always attributed it to a touch of winter that had coldened her family line many years ago. 
“But if you must, it can’t be Yuta,” Johnny says firmly. “The North might be exciting now, but summer and winter don’t mix well. You might think of yourself as a savage, with your sword-wielding, and your dislike for ‘things befit of a princess,’ but you’re still too sweet for a man like him, believe me on that.”
Your lips pull tight, and you refuse to respond, focusing your attention on the tourney as the announcer begins to read out the names of competitors.
Yuta is one of the first, as is his right as a royal, and he approaches the elevated stand you’re sitting on. “I’m hoping for a favor, from the princess,” he says loudly, holding out his joust.
You stand, holding a small garland of wildflowers picked from the King’s wood. “Good luck, Prince Yuta,” you call, leaning over the rail to toss your favor onto his joust.
Yuta nods respectfully, and you’re taken by his striking eyes.
You go back to sit with your brother and he lets out an annoyed sound, but doesn’t pester you further.
Soon, the final tournament, the last of three days, is beginning.
You’re glued to your seat for all of it, eyes fixed on the commotion as rider after rider is bested. The royals hold their own, but once again, the Knight of Roses shows off his skills with a joust, defeating Prince Doyoung in the semi-finals.
You feel, as Yuta and Jaehyun size each other up, that the victor should be obvious, you’d given him your favour after all- however, the day ends with your bet not paying off.
The Knight of Roses finishes on top, and as you and your brother leave to head to the final departing feast, Johnny pulls you close. “That Jaehyun guy is no joke,” he muses. “I want him in my court.”
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One:
“In light of our mother and father going to The Bright Lands,” your brother sighs as he’s fitted into his coronation robe, “I think it’s best you finally get a proper bodyguard.”
“Jungwoo is doing the job just fine,” you muse, fingers clicking on your glass of wine while numerous maids fuss over the future king. 
“Jungwoo is my guard,” Johnny corrects. “And now that I’m about to be correnated, I want him back. He was a loan.”
“A loan,” you laugh. 
“I knew you wouldn’t agree to a new guard, but in an hour, I’ll be your king, so you’re going to make this easy on me, okay?”
You roll your eyes, but you don’t protest. “And who are you planning on assigning to baby sit me?”
“The Knight of Roses.”
Your heart skips a beat.
It’s been five years since Johnny recruited Jaehyun to come to your palace and train. Five years of you seeing the pink-haired man work at becoming an even better swordsman. Part of you had assumed that Jaehyun would step into the role of Johnny’s protector, not your own.
“I don’t need him,” you say.
“Yes, you do,” Johnny sighs. “Trust me, I think you’ll like his style of protection.”
With one last flair of his furred robe, Johnny turns to the door, and it’s clear the conversation is over.
The two of you exit his royal chambers, and you’re immediately flanked by guards. Jaehyun falls into step right behind you, and you do your best to ignore him as you make your way to the grand hall.
The Knight of Roses sticks to your side the entire ceremony, and it’s hard to focus on your brother with this pretty, pink-haired man practically breathing down your neck.
You’re ready for some alone time as the coronation closes. Tonight marks the eve of a three-day celebration to solidify the start of your brother’s reign, and you know you’ll have many duties in the coming seventy-two hours. You can skip the feast, especially while Johnny is swarmed in the great hall at the dining table.
As you slip away, you’re cognisant of the spring shadow following you. He’s silent, and you appreciate that as you make your way to your room. Once in the safety of your bed chamber, Jaehyun waits outside respectfully.
Two handmaidens join you, and they’re a little shocked at your request to be helped with putting on the armor your father had gifted to you three years ago. He’d known at that time that there was no way of squashing your wild heart, so he’d made sure you’d have the proper gear to protect yourself if you decided to live dangerously.
You exit your room fully adorned in royal armor. It’s similar to your elder brother’s, all golden, and stamped with the Summer house’s royal sunshine mark.
Jaehyun continues to say nothing, continues to shadow you as you make your way down to the courtyard and into the King’s wood. 
It wouldn’t be ‘becoming’ for you to practice swordsmanship where others could see you, so your father had made a training section of sorts for you a short way into the treeline, in a clearing where you’ve since spent many hours.
You expect Jaehyun to continue his silent streak as you approach a practice dummy, expect him to sit back and watch you the way Jungwoo always has- but as you ready your first blow, Jaehyun speaks his first words. “Do you come train here often, Princess?”
You pause, turning to look at your spring shadow. “Excuse me?”
“This practice site, is it yours?”
“Yes,” you respond, striking the practice dummy, “it’s mine.” You hear something of a scoff- or maybe a smile, and you turn to find the pink-haired man grinning. “What?”
“King John said you’re an unusual girl, but I never expected this.”
“Sorry to ruin your expectations,” you sigh, lining yourself up to take another hit at your training dummy.
“Has anyone ever given you any formal training, Princess?” Jaehyun asks next, stepping toward you.
“Johnny has tried to teach me a few times,” you confess.
“Are you open to pointers, Princess?” 
You let out a deep sigh. “My last guard would simply watch.”
Jaehyun nods, looking down at the ground. It’s clear he’s going to drop this, that he’s taken your response as a rejection. You’re his Princess, he won’t question you, and you kind of like it. But, at the same time, as you begin to hack at the dummy, you wonder what Jaehyun might be able to provide for you that Jungwoo couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t. 
The Knight Of Roses has proven himself, and his swordsmanship, many times over. There are worse people you could accept constructive criticism from.
“Fine,” you sigh. “What am I doing wrong?”
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Two:
You’re elated from your impromptu training session with Jaehyun. After allowing him to teach you a few tips, you’d sparred for an hour or so before he’d insisted it would be a good idea to go back to the banquet. So here you are, all tightened in your gown and corset, your heart racing every time you think of how much you’ve just learned from your new protector.
Your brother is seated next to you, and as the dinner commotion quiets down a little, he leans closer to you. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
Johnny scoffs at your one-word response, his eyes shifting to the guard behind you, to the great hall full of people there to celebrate his coronation. “How do you feel about the familiar faces here tonight?”
You sigh, knowing who he means. Prince Doyoung and Prince Yuta are seated at their royal tables, one poised, the other relaxed and holding a cup of wine between his fingers.
“We just had a royal wedding,” you muse, looking at Johnny’s new wife as she sits on his left. 
“And as much as I like the Spring King, I don’t need Taeyond as a brother-in-law twice over,” Johnny agrees. “I remember a few years ago, you had an eye on Prince Yuta.” 
“That was a few years ago.”
Johnny nods, and he looks contemplative for a few seconds. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re a summer child, but there’s always been an untamable side to you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“However,” Johnny lifts his fingers to his lips, leaning his elbow on his large chair. “I would like for you to dance with a few people tonight.”
“And what would be the point in that?” you counter.
Johnny shrugs. “Fun? Intrinsic value? Because your older brother, and King, wants to see you smile?”
“I doubt many of these men could make me smile.” 
Jaehyun is close behind you, and he listens to this exchange, a smug grin working it’s way onto his face. As familiar as he is with Johnny, it’s clear your brother doesn’t know very much about you. If he wishes to see you smile, he just has to see you with a sword in your hand.
The Knight of Roses has always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you dressed in full royal armor, wielding a blade- he’d realized that was your element. You’re happiest while battling, unladylike sweat dripping from your brow, eyes fixed on your task, the smell of deep concentration practically wafting off of you. 
Jaehyun would be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by the small training session that had just taken place. He wasn’t sure how to gauge what your relationship as princess and guard would be like, but now- if tonight was any suggestion of what’s to come- he thinks this might suit him just perfectly.
The feast is cleared away by servants, and large tables are pushed to the sides of the great hall to make way for dancing. 
Jaehyun shifts on his feet as he watches, holding his breath at what’s to come.
He’s not surprised when Prince Yuta approaches the royal table. 
“King John, Princess,” he nods, his gaze lingering on you, “I was wondering if I might have this dance.”
For something of a winter savage, Prince Yuta can be surprisingly well-mannered when he wants to be, and it’s no shock when you stand to your feet, allowing the man from the North to pull you to the dance floor.
Each kingdom has its own color scheme. While Fall is depicted with bronze and blue, Jaehyun’s own kingdom sports rose gold and green. Yuta however, is silver and black, and it is starkly contrasted by your gold and white dress. The two of you stick out like a sore thumb on the great hall floor, and there are many eyes that watch you humour the prince from the North with a dance.
Jaehyun has his opinions about this potential union, but he’ll keep them to himself.
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Three:
It’s the second day of Johnny’s coronation celebration. The Summer equinox is approaching tomorrow, and the days are long. The sun is hot, and it makes you sweat in your suit of armor as you and Jaehyun train by the lake in the King’s Wood.
There had been a tourney today, and you’d slipped away from the crowds to find a spare hour or two before the nightly banquet. You’re aware that you’ve been sparring for some time already, and the summer heat is making you exhausted faster than you’d anticipated.
With a sigh, you let your sword fall to your side, and your guard immediately mirrors the movement. “I think I’m done for the day,” you muse.
“As you wish, Princess,” Jaehyun nods. 
You pull off one of your armored gloves as you move closer to the rocky shore of the lake. “Come sit with me.” 
Jaehyun nods again, following you.
He’s quick to unclip his rose gold and green embroidered cape, setting it along the rocks for you to sit on. You and Jaehyun have found a way to communicate with motions more so than words, and you nod a thank you to him as you get seated. 
You release a sigh as you continue to take off parts of your armor, relieved by the coolness that washes over your skin after being cooped up for an hour.
“I have something to ask you,” you tell him.
“Whatever you need, Princess.”
He’s still standing, and you sigh. “Sit.” Jaehyun does as he’s told. “I’m sure you noticed me dancing with Prince Yuta last night.”
“I think it’s safe to say everyone noticed,” Jaehyun nods.
“I know what is expected of me as a princess, and I guess I’m wondering what your feelings are on love and marriage?”
Jaehyun looks out at the lake, and he’s quiet for a moment while you assess him. 
“I don’t have the same pressures that you do when it comes to marriage,” Jaehyun admits. “I’m your guard, my only duty- my only commitment, is protecting you, and even though it’s only been two days, I think I can be content with that.”
The Knight of Roses looks so beautiful as he says his piece, and the idea that he’s already committed to you is one that makes your heart race in your chest. He’s so beautiful- and you’ve tried to deny it for too long. You hate being the girl who falls for the same man that everyone else has their eye on, and Jaehyun has no lack of suitors, especially in court. However, you suppose there’s always legitimacy in the looks of a man who has captured the hearts of many.
“Thank you for saying that,” you nod finally. 
“How about you, Princess? If I might ask… what are you thinking about your future?”
“My brother says he won’t pressure me, so for now, I think I’ll just lean on that,” you admit, letting out a sigh. “For now, I want to be free.”
You stand up abruptly, and Jaehyun is quick to his feet as well, looking at you with a question in his eyes.
“Help me take my armour off,” you tell him. “I’m going for a swim.”
“Excuse me, Princess?” Jaehyun freezes, and you can see a hint of pink blossoming on his skin.
“I’m going for a swim,” you repeat. “I want to be one with the water. It’s good for your muscles after training.”
“But- you have nothing to wear-”
“So I’ll wear nothing,” you say simply. “We’re in my brother’s King’s Wood, no one will come here, only royals can, and every royal has been drinking since this morning. We’re alone, and I wish to be free.” 
Jaehyun lets out a breath. “Respectfully, Princess, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Regardless of his words, Jaehyun begins to help you take off your armor.
You’re wearing a white shirt and pants beneath your metal plating, and Jaehyun’s gentle as he helps undress you. When it comes down to the final layers, Jaehyun bows his head and turns around, giving you privacy to get naked on the banks of the lake.
You find it comical how respectful he is, and you kind of love it as you strip completely and step into the water. The summer heat has made the temperature seasonably warm, so it feels lovely on your skin as you wade in.
Once shoulder deep, you begin to swim, and when you turn back to the shore, you find Jaehyun watching you.
He’s standing there, guardian you from afar.
You know there’s no way he would join you, so you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you just enjoy the water, allowing your muscles to relax, your body decompressing. 
Once you’ve had your fill, you begin to swim back to shore- and that’s when you notice motion in the treeline.
Jaehyun is quick to turn around, and you watch as Prince Yuta stalks onto the beach, taking one look at your guard, and then at you in the water. 
“What is this?” Yuta asks loudly.
“The Princess wanted to go for a swim,” Jaehyun responds calmly.
You can see Yuta’s gaze shift to your pile of clothes, and even from a distance, you note the change in his expression.
“And you let her go for a swim?” The Prince from the North growls. 
“I don’t let my Princess do anything, that’s not my job,” Jaehyun retorts.
“Your job is to protect her. Her body, her virtue as a princess- Do you have any idea what future suitors might think if they were to find out about this?!” Yuta is yelling now, and it sets your teeth on edge.
This is one of the first times you’ve seen his brash, hot-headed winter features in a situation outside of a tourney, and you’re beginning to see what your brother has always meant when he said Yuta wouldn’t be good for you.
“If my future suitors are so pigheaded that they judge a swim in the lake in my brother’s King’s Wood, then they aren’t good suitors to begin with,” you yell back. “Maybe I never want to get married! And I won’t marry any man just because he’s royal or it’s expected!”
Yuta stares at you in shock, lips parting then closing again- it’s clear he’s at a loss for words. Finally, with a scoff, he turns and leaves, a flurry of black and silver as he gets back on his horse, disappearing into the trees.
Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when the Prince departs, and he turns to look at you in the water. He doesn’t say anything, but you get the feeling that he’d wished you’d stayed out of the altercation.
“Are you almost done in there, Princess?” he calls.
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll grab a blanket from my horse,” Jaehyun announces, swiftly turning. 
He comes back with the blanket, and you watch Jaehyun close his eyes as he holds it outstretched for you. You wade back to the bank, cognizant of your nakedness as you allow yourself to approach your guard.
You take the blanket from him, wrapping it around your body to dry yourself. 
His eyes are still closed. Jaehyun is so pure- you’re little Knight of Roses. 
“How, may I ask, are you protecting me if you can’t see?” you ask.
“I’m listening to the forest,” Jaehyun responds softly. 
You admire his beautiful face, and you can’t help but lean forward, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, testing his ability to sense things-
Jaehyun takes a step back, brows furrowing. “What are you doing?”
“Just testing you,” you muse, leaning back and taking a breath. “I’ll put my clothes back on now, then you can help me with my armor before we go back.”
You hope Yuta hasn’t made a scene about all of this, but only time will tell. 
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Four:
Jaehyun supposes he’s getting used to the sight of you dancing with other princes, and it’s easy for him to ignore the feeling bubbling inside of him, his mind wandering to what had just happened an hour ago at the lake.
“Jaehyun,” Johnny’s voice drags the knight away from his watch. The King makes a motion for Jaehyun to lean closer, so he does. “I heard something happened in the King’s Wood.”
“What did you hear, your highness?” Jaehyun asks.
“The Prince from the North came to talk to me, he gave me a warning about my favorite knight stealing the virtue of my sister.” 
Jaehyun’s skin runs cold. “You Highness- nothing happened, on my life, on my honor- your sister wanted to go for a swim, I kept my eyes shut-”
“I never doubted you,” Johnny interrupts, waving his hand. “Although, I do see the way you two look at each other… I don’t want to force my sister into anything, let alone a loveless marriage.”
Jaehyun considers his King’s words. It almost sounds like Johnny is giving Jaehyun permission to court you. 
“Anyways, I trust you.” Johnny leans back in his chair. “There’s a reason I chose you to be her protector, and what is a husband if not the ultimate protector?” 
Jaehyun wonders if he’s something of a knight in shining armour to you, roses and all.
“I appreciate what you’ve said, your Highness,” Jaehyun nods, and they both shift their gazes back to the dance floor where you’re wrapped up in Prince Doyoung.
It’s clear to Jaehyun that the smile on your face is fake. He’s seen your real smile, when you’re wielding a blade. You haven’t been faking it with Jaehyun, and he hasn’t been faking it with you.
“Jungwoo?” Johnny’s voice disrupts Jaehyun’s thoughts. “If you wouldn’t mind cutting in with my sister, it looks like Lord JYP is about to ask her to dance, and he’s much too old for her. I think she deserves a savior.”
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Five:
You focus on your breath, trying to anticipate Jaehyun’s movements. He’s hard to read, even though you’ve done your best to recougnize his tells. The Knight of Roses might put his weight onto his left foot, only to lunge from the right.
He’s very adept at this, and you think you must have gotten better in these past few days at swordsmanship than you have since you picked up a sword.
You’re entirely focused on Jaehyun, so focused, that when he suddenly pauses, you don’t know what’s happening. That’s when you feel a presence behind you, and you swing to find the Fall Prince standing there.
“So this is where you run off to every day,” Doyoung muses, sizing you up. “You’re quite good with a sword, Princess.”
“Thank you,” you nod, a little shocked that he’s praising such a non lady like pass time. 
“Your brother, the King, told me where I might find you,” the Prince explains. “I’ve come with an offer.”
Your heart sinks in your chest, and your gaze shifts to Jaehyun. He’s looking at the ground, doing his best to be respectful of this royal exchange while still manning his post.
“I’ve noticed Prince Yuta’s interest in you,” Doyoung starts, “and I’m civilized enough, even as a man from the Eastern reaches, to know that no summer girl should be thrown to those Northern wolves. A union of the Fall or Spring kingdoms would be better suited for you, and since your brother just married into the Spring’s royal line, I feel as if I might be the next best option for you.”
You swallow thickly. There’s a “No” that bubbles along the back of your tongue, willing to be let out- but despite your distaste for political things, you’ve been trained well enough to know not to be so blunt with the Fall Prince.
“Thank you for your offer,” you say curtly. “I’ll have to consider your proposal. I can’t make any decisions without first discussing them with my King.”
Doyoung nods. “I understand. Thank you for your time, Princess.” He reaches for your hand next, and you allow him to bring your armoured fingers to his lips.
You watch as Doyoung leaves, and once he’s gone, you let out a deep breath.
“Are you alright, Princess?” Jaehyun asks.
“Just flustered,” you admit. “I’m impressed by his confidence to ask for my hand like that. I’ve always liked a man who knows what he wants... I might be a princess who swings her sword and swims naked and free- but I’m still just a girl who wants to be pursued, to be wanted- for more than just a political alliance.”
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Six:
It’s been such a short time that Jaehyun’s been guarding you, but already, you’ve opened up to him numerous times. He’s beginning to understand you, and his feelings for you have been growing in a way he could have never imagined.
He can’t get the thought of what you’d said about being courted out of his head.
You want to be pursued, to be wanted- for more than your name, your title, your family- You want something real, and as much as Jaehyun’s never wanted to admit it to himself, he’s wanted the same.
He’s had hundreds of women throw themselves at him at this point- but they always liked him for his exterior, nothing more. 
The two of you are like different sides of the same coin. Wanted, admired- you for your rank, and him for his looks. It’s a difficult way to go through life, to feel like you’re never truly being seen.
But Jaehyun sees you, the real you, the you that you only show in your vulnerable moments. As fearsome as you think you are when you’re wielding your sword, there’s a side of you that is also open to being taught new things, and the ferocity in your approach to protecting yourself is more than admirable to the Knight of Roses.
He’s deep in thought, but his eyes never leave you as you dance around the great hall for the final night of the celebration, an endless line of suitors waiting for a turn at the Summer Princess.
There’s a flash of bronze, and Prince Doyoung catches Jaehyun’s gaze. The regal man from the West is cutting through the crowd, side stepping the line as is his right as a royal. 
There’s no doubt in Jaehyun’s mind as to what Doyoung wants to discuss as he cuts into your dance, and your guard sees the micromovements in your brow, the twitch of your lips as your smile momentarily falters.
Even so, you accept the prince’s offer of a dance, and Jaehyun broods while he watches.
Was it not just yesterday that King John asked Jungwoo to step in between you and a high born for a dance?
Jaehyun’s gaze shifts to the King, and something inside of him snaps. 
It’s the Knight of Roses’ duty to protect you, and maybe he’s let this farce of a party drag out too long. John won’t be mad at him for finally stepping in, of that, Jaehyun is certain as he steps down from his post.
People part to allow the armoured knight to pass, and Jaehyun can hear the blood rushing to his ears as he closes the distance between himself and you.
He stops just a foot short of you and the Prince, both of you looking at him with questioning eyes.
“May I cut in?” Jaehyun asks, and he’s pleased that his voice sounds more confident than he feels.
“I-” Doyoung opens his mouth, but you’re quick to cut him off, “You may.” 
There’s a clear anger in the Fall Prince’s expression as he reluctantly relinquishes you to your guard, and there’s a curious arch of your brow as Jaehyun takes you in his arms.
“What was that about?” you ask, once Doyoung has retreated.
“I thought you looked like you needed to be saved.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” you question with a grin. “Saving me?”
“It’s my duty, Princess.”
You narrow your eyes at him, and then you laugh. “Maybe you’re just jealous. Are you jealous, my good knight?”
Jaehyun tries to act innocent, to pretend the idea is stupid, but his scoff lacks conviction, and it’s clear you both know it.
“There’s something I have to tell you-” Jaehyun starts, but you cut him off in very much the same way you had the Prince just seconds ago. 
“Not here, not now, not with all of these eyes,” you whisper. “I thank you for saving me from this dance, I think the night ends here for me.”
Jaehyun nods, releasing you and stepping back respectfully.
You turn to head back up to your King, and Jaehyun follows three steps back.
“John,” you say, skipping the formalities for your older brother, “I’ve grown tired, and I’d like to go back to my room.”
“As you wish,” Johnny brushes it off, his gaze fixed on the great hall infront of him.
“Please tell Prince Doyoung that I reject his offer of marriage,” you continue, and this draws the attention of the King. “Would you let him know that I’d like to stay in the Summer Kingdom, at least for a little while longer, before I make any big decisions.” 
John looks between you and Jaehyun, who averts his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” You look so determined, so powerful as you stare down at your older brother, and in that moment, Jaehyun is proud of you. He’s proud of how much you’ve grown in the years since he first came to your Summer court- proud of the way you’re obviously following your own heart now that your brother is on the throne and allows it.
However, something tells Jaehyun that even if Johnny wasn’t so supportive of you, you’d still be making waves for yourself.
“I’ll talk with Doyoung,” John says finally. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” You curtsey for your king, and then you’re swiftly leaving the great hall with your knight closely behind you. 
The walk to your quarters feels dualistically long and short at the same time. Jaehyun’s mind is running a thousand miles per minute, and his heart is racing like it only does when he’s fighting.
He stops just outside your room, and you look back at him. “Well? Aren’t you coming inside?”
“I-”
“Come.” You leave no room for argument, and Jaehyun nods before stepping after you, closing the door.
“Well?” you ask, heading to your nightstand to pour yourself a chalice of water. “What did you want to say to me?”
“Hmm?”
“Just now, when you cut into my dance with the Fall Prince, it looked like you had something important to tell me.”
In the heat of the moment, seeing you with Doyoung had spurred something inside of Jaehyun, but now, in the privacy of your quarters, the Knight of Roses feels tongue tied. 
“Princess-” Jaehyun swallows thickly, and you set down your cup to move closer to him.
He can’t meet your gaze, so he looks at the floor, and he watches as you reach out to take his hand.
“Talk to me,” you plead, your voice near a whisper.
Jaehyun looks up at you.
Gods, you’re so beautiful. He likes you in your armour, but the dress you’d chosen for the final evening of your brother’s coronation celebration is truly ethereal, and Jaehyun thinks he may have never seen a prettier sight in all of his life.
Your gaze shifts to his lips, and Jaehyun’s breath catches. 
You move closer- like you had at the lake yesterday-
There’s a knock on your door, and Jaehyun practically jumps out of his armor. He tears his hand away from you, turning toward the intrusion as one of your ladies in waiting steps into the room.
“I’ve come to help the princess remove her gown for bed,” your maid announces.
“Yes, thank you,” you sigh. 
The maid looks to Jaehyun next. “Marcus Lee is also outside, to relieve you of your position for the night, Sir Jeong.” 
“Right.” Jaehyun nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Goodnight, Princess, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, good knight,” you bow your head.
It almost pains Jaehyun to walk away, but he has to. He steps outside of your bedroom, joining the knight who takes care of your watch while Jaehyun gets his rest.
Mark nods to Jaehyun, and Jaehyun returns the motion, not saying a word as he sets off toward his own room.
The Knight of Roses’ skin is practically buzzing, a fire raging inside of him. He thinks of all the things he’s wanted to say, all the things he’s wanted to do- 
You’d been so close to kissing him, and Jaehyun can feel it. 
When he gets back to his quarters, Jaehyun is quick to tear his armor off, the metal feeling constricting and like a furnace against his heated skin.
He falls into bed with a huff of exasperation, the thought of your lips never leaving his mind. 
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Seven:
There had been a huge morning going away party, in which you and Johnny said goodbye to everyone who had come to celebrate his birthday. You’d been doing your duty, and you and Jaehyun have yet to discuss last night. When you’re finally alone and head back to your room, you turn to your Knight of Roses expectantly, waiting for him to break the ice.
“Would you like to train today?” he asks in the doorway to your bedroom. 
“Get in here,” you instruct. “We’re finishing our conversation from last night.”
With a nod, Jaehyun closes your door behind him, standing awkwardly a few meters away from you with his head bowed.
“Well?” you ask expectantly. 
The knight takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urge. “What you’re feeling. Tell me that last night, if we hadn’t been interrupted, you would have kissed me the way I’ve been wanting to kiss you.”
Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours, and you see his expression break a little. “I talked with the King,” he starts, and you let out an exasperated sigh, not knowing what this has to do with anything. “He told me that he doesn’t want to push you into a loveless marriage, and then he noted that we look at each other the same way-”
“How do we look at each other?” you ask, wanting to hear him say it.
You watch him swallow thickly. “We look at each other like we care about each other. I know I care about you, more deeply than I ever thought I would- and in such a short time-”
“It has been a short time that you’ve been my guard,” you agree, “however, you’ve been in court for five years. It’s not like we’re strangers. I feel as if I already know you. I’m comfortable with you, and I’m not comfortable with many people, Jaehyun.”
Your knight nods, staying quiet.
“I care about you,” you confirm. “I care about you too.”
He looks up at you hopefully, and you have the sense that he’s waiting for you to elaborate.
“I’ve had these feelings, these longings-” you try to explain, clutching at your chest, where your heart is beating rapidly at the thought of how this might change your relationship. “But I have worries too.”
“Worries, Princess?” he inquires.
“It’s just… this power imbalance,” you motion between the two of you. “I’m your Princess, and you’re my Knight- I’d hate for you to grow to resent me as my protector if we were to ever take this leap.”
“I could never resent you,” he promises, words softening. “Princess- Never.”
“Never?” you repeat, stepping closer to him.
Jaehyun shakes your head. “I admire you, more than I’ve ever admired anyone. You’re a princess, but you don’t let your title define you. You are so singular- in the best of ways.”
“Keep telling me sweet nothings,” you whisper, reaching out to play with the belt that holds his sword.
“I’ve never met someone like you, man or woman,” Jaehyun tells you, his breath hot on your face as he looks down at you. “You’re so fierce, yet there’s a softness to you too- a softness I don’t think you want to show many people.”
You look up to meet his gaze. “You think so?”
“Yes, Princess.” Jaehyun nods solemnly. “I want you to feel safe enough to show me that soft side. Want for you to feel safe and know that I’ll always protect you, all of you.”
You cup his cheek, and Jaehyun leans into the touch, his eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath.
“Kiss me,” you tell him.
“You’re a princess,” Jaehyun sighs. “Prince Yuta was right about not tarnishing your virtue-”
“Well, if you ask me to marry you, and I say yes, then my virtue is yours regardless of whether you take it now, or on our wedding night,” you point out.
Jaehyun opens his eyes, and you can see his resolve faltering. You can see him crumbling for you, and it’s a dazzling sight. This strong knight, breaking.
“I don’t have a ring,” he whispers.
“I don’t care about a ring.”
“We’ve not known each other intimately for very long.”
“My mother met my father on their wedding night, for royals, it’s not uncommon to meet your betrothed until you’re at the alter.” 
“Are you sure you want this, Princess?”
“My Knight, my dear, sweet Knight,” you move closer, until your lips are just an inch away from his own, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
Jaehyun kisses you then, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s all hard metal, but his lips are soft. You’re sure he knows that this is your first time kissing a man, and he’s gentle as he wordlessly guides you through it. His tongue strokes your bottom lip and you hesitantly open up for him, allowing him deeper.
You mewl as he lifts you off the ground, carrying you toward your bed.
“You’re sure?” Jaehyun asks again, setting you down.
“Make love to me, Jaehyun, your Princess commands it.”
Jaehyun lets out a laugh, and his smile lights up his entire face. “Should we worry about a maid coming in to check on you?”
“They’ll just assume I’m off in the King’s Wood somewhere,” you tell him, fingers going to the fastenings on his armour. “Once I get this metal off of you, we can close the blinds on my four poster bed, a little more privacy that way.”
“Whatever you say, Princess,” Jaehyun nods, lips attaching to yours again as you work to undress him.
You’re not generally accustomed to undressing yourself, let alone others, and it’s clear that you’re struggling. “Here,” Jaehyun gently takes your hands, placing them by your sides. “Let me do the work.”
You sit down on the bed, watching as he expertly removes his armor. 
Soon he’s just in his under armour white shirt and pants, and you reach out to remove those next-
“Your turn, Princess,” Jaehyun tells you, gently pushing your hands away again.
“My turn?” You cock a brow before rolling onto your stomach. “Hope you're good with laces,” you grin, baring the corsetted back of your gown to him. 
Jaehyun laughs. “I think I’ll manage, Princess.”
“You better.”
Jaehyun’s shaky fingers find the laces, and he undoes the top bow carefully. Then he slowly begins to tug on each section, gently working his way down your back to open you up for him. You can feel his breath on your shoulders, and there’s something so erotic about it. He’s unwrapping you, his perfect little Princess present. 
“You’re sure about this?” Jaehyun asks again, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a tingle down your spine.
“Please stop asking me that,” you breathe, practically writhing under his touch.
“Is that a command, Princess?”
“Yes.” 
Jaehyun chuckles, returning to his task as he gets the last of your corset undone. You hold the front of your dress close to your chest as you sit up, facing him. The sleeves are falling off your shoulders, and you look up at the knight, curious to see his expression.
Your guard looks stunned, and then he says, “Wait, I never officially asked you to be my wife.”
“I thought that was a given,” you admit.
Jaehyun gets down onto one knee. “Princess, would you do me the great honour, and make me the happiest man in all four kingdoms-”
“Yes, Jaehyun, yes, I’ll marry you.” You press your lips to his and he kisses you desperately, his hands balling up in the thick fabric of your skirt.
“I want to taste you,” Jaehyun whispers.
“What?”
“I’ll talk you through everything,” The Knight of Roses promises. “You trust me, right?”
“I trust you,” you confirm.
Jaehyun presses one last chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your throat. You love the feeling of it, and you throw your head back, moaning. You love the way he’s taking his time with you, his mouth descending. He ghosts his attention across your chest, and then, he gets onto his knees on the floor.
You watch him curiously as Jaehyun lifts up your skirt. “Lay back for me, Princess.” 
You do as you’re told, gingerly relaxing back against the bed as Jaehyun pushes your dress even higher to your hips. 
His breath fans across your core, and you wiggle desperately. The Knight of Roses hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down your legs.
“If you want me to stop-”
“Just do it Jae,” you whisper. “Do whatever you want.”
He doesn’t say anything else, his lips teasing up your inner thighs.
Your pussy is throbbing like it’s never throbbed before. You’ve touched yourself a handful of times, but nothing has ever felt like this.
“I’m gonna marry you,” Jaehyun tells you, pressing a kiss to your clit that has your toes curling deliciously. “You’re going to be my wife.”
You can only moan as he licks a stripe of your pussy, teasing his tongue around the sensitive bud. Your hands bunch up in the blanket on your bed, and you writhe beneath Jaehyun’s motions, prompting him to press a hand to your hips to keep you pinned.
He licks at you for a while, working you up, before his lips suction around your clit again, applying more pressure and stimulus than before.
“Oh my Gods-” you groan. 
Jaehyun returns your sound with one of his own, and the vibrations make you dizzy.
You can feel something building in the pit of your stomach- you’re not sure what it is, exactly, only that it feels amazing. 
Your moans are getting pitchier, and Jaehyun sucks harder on your clit-
That’s when the tension in your tummy snaps, and all of the sudden, summer waves are washing over you. It’s a pleasure unlike any you’ve felt- and it takes your breath away as you gasp and moan in the sanctity of your bedroom.
You quite literally see stars, your eyes clenched shut as Jaehyun continues his motions, keeping you on that pleasure cloud until you can’t take it anymore.
“Jae-” you whimper, pushing at his head.
He’s quick to draw back, and you open your eyes to see him looking up at you, licking his lips. “Was that good, Princess?”
“That was amazing,” you tell him.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he warns, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy lips. “I’m going to stretch you out now.”
You can only whimper at his words.
“Relax for me, Princess, I’ve got you.” 
You lean back against the bed again, trying to breathe deeply as he begins to push his pointer finger into your wet hole. The feeling is foreign, but not unpleasant. In fact, as he begins to thrust his digit, it begins to feel heavenly. 
Gods, your inner walls have never been stroked like this- 
“You’re so wet, Princess,” Jaehyun muses. “Are you ready for another finger?”
“Yes,” you moan, eager to please him.
Jaehyun’s mouth returns to your clit, and he gently pushes a second finger into you. You groan at the feeling, your walls stretching to accommodate him.
“So tight for me,” Jaehyun tells you. “So perfect.”
You mewl, hips pushing toward his hand as he begins to curl his fingers inside of you. 
He works you open, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more by the second. His mouth finds your clit again, and that sensation in your tummy returns.
You close your eyes, enjoying everything Jaehyun is giving you. 
“I think you’re going to cum again,” Jaehyun says, lips ghosting past your clit. “You going to cum for me, Princess?”
“Mmmm, yes, Jae,” you whimper, ready to agree to anything he asks of you.
His mouth suctions around your sensitive bud, and he sucks lewdly, triggering the release that’s becoming all to familiar.
You squeal with delight, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his soft hair as your high overtakes you again. Your pussy is throbbing desperately, body alive with a sensitivity you’ve never felt.
This is what heaven must feel like, you decide, as you writhe beneath the Knight of Roses, reveling in the way he’s taking care of you. You’ve always wanted someone to love you for more than your royal status, but this feeling of being worshiped is something you could get used to. 
When the sensation is over, Jaehyun pulls away again, and you take a shuddery breath. 
“I’m going to take your dress off now, Princess,” Jaehyun tells you, and you feel like a loved up, limp doll as he undresses you slowly, pressing soft kisses all along your body.
You’re fully naked for him, and you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 
Jaehyun’s eyes betray his feelings, and you can tell he’s as hopelessly in love with you as you are with him. There’s a connection here, one neither of you had admitted, but now that you have-
This is your person, and he’s going to be your person, forever. 
Your Knight of Roses begins to undress, and you can’t help the greedy way in which your eyes devour each piece of newly exposed flesh. 
He’s so perfect- his abs especially- or wait, no, just, everything. 
You feel shy for the first time when you take a peek at his cock, your skin heating with embarrassment. 
“It’s okay,” Jaehyun assures you. “I’ll go slow with you, Princess, I promise.”
“Come here,” you prompt him, crawling up to your pillows so you can be in the centre of your large four poster bed.
You watch Jaehyun draw the blinds, allowing you some inkling of privacy before he returns between your thighs.
He’s already rock hard, and you can’t help but reach out and touch him, stroking him gently while Jaehyun releases a groan of pleasure. 
The Knight of Roses leans over you, pressing his elbows into the bed while his lips meet yours.
You let go of his cock in favour of tangling your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.
His length teases your pussy, bumping by your clit as he begins to slowly rock his hips. 
“Are you-”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you groan. “Jaehyun-”
“As you wish, Princess,” he tells you, kissing you again before grabbing the base of his cock, lining it up with your pussy.
He teases the tip inside of you, and you groan at the stretch. Jaehyun pauses, allowing you to get used to his size a little before pushing more inside your aching core.
He’s very gentle, his mouth hot on your throat, a welcome distraction as he opens you up for himself the way no man ever has before.
Finally, he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and he releases a groan. “You’re squeezing me so tight, Princess-”
“Sorry-”
“No, it’s a good thing,” he assures you. “Feels good.”
“Good,” you grin, drawing his lips to your own.
You kiss him fiercely, getting lost in the feeling as he begins to move, slowly rocking in and out of your core.
The sensation of his cock along your inner walls turns pleasurable quickly, and soon you’re moaning against his lips. 
Jaehyun’s hand finds yours, and he links your fingers as he makes love to you. 
That tension is building in the pit of your stomach again, and you whimper. “I think- I think I’m close again,” you warn him.
“Want you to cum for me, then I can cum too,” he tells you, releasing your hand so he can bring his thumb to your clit.
You’re so sensitive from two orgasms that the brush of his digit across your bud has you mewling, grabbing at the sheets desperately. “Jaehyun-”
“I know, I’m here, I’ve got you,” he promises. 
You open your eyes, gazing up at your new lover, your protector, your future husband.
You’re overwhelmed by a feeling of complete joy, and it fills your entire being as he works you closer and closer to the edge, fucking you harder-
“Jae, I’m gonna-”
“Let go for me,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck. “Let go for me, Princess, I’ll take care of you.”
With a whine, you release the tension in your abdomen, and for the third time tonight, your high washes over you.
You gasp, back arching, pressing your breasts up toward his chest.
Jaehyun groans deeply, hips unrelenting, fucking you through the feeling.
As your orgasm subsides, Jaehyun pulls out of you, pumping his cock as he coats your abdomen in his own release.
He lets out curse words under his breath, head bowed, eyes focused on the mess he’s making. You lay there, keeping still and watching in awe at the beautiful man in front of you.
Finally, Jaehyun lets out a grunt, his motion stopping. 
He’s breathing heavily, you both are. Then, Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair. “Let me find something to clean you up with.”
He stumbles out of the bed, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him not fully composed. You love the effect you have on him, and you lay there, in a state of complete bliss.
Jaehyun returns with a wash cloth, and he cleans the cum off your skin.
“I’ll get dressed, and when I leave, I’ll find your maid. I’ll let her know you want a bath,” Jaehyun explains.
“A bath sounds really nice,” you admit, feeling sleepy.
“I know, Princess.” Jaehyun kisses you one last time, and you lazily watch him put his clothes and armor back on.
Part of you hates to see him go, but you’re exhausted, and after your maids come in to help you with a bath, you fall into a deep, love filled slumber. 
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Eight:
Jaehyun knows he’s doing the right thing as he approaches the King’s quarters. 
Jungwoo and Haechan are outside, standing guard, and they nod to their fellow knight as he passes through, knocking on the door.
The King’s authoritative voice calls a, “Come in!” and with a deep breath, Jaehyun enters.
“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Johnny admits, looking up from his book at the Knight of Roses.
“I have news,” Jaehyun says, his throat dry already.
“Let’s hear it.” Johnny leans back in his chair, eyeing Jaehyun suspiciously.
“Well.” The Knight lets out a deep breath. “The Princess and I-” His voice cracks, and it makes Jaehyun look at the floor. 
“Are you two engaged now, or what?”
Johnny’s question makes Jaehyun’s eyes rise again. 
“It’s about time,” Johnny continues. “You know, our family has always loved you. Even before you were officially my sister’s guard, there was something there. My mother could see it. She left her engagement ring before she went away with my father, I guess she always figured that one day, you could give it to her daughter.”
The King stands, going to his bedside table, where he pulls out a tiny box. 
“Here,” Johnny says, holding it out to Jaehyun. “Give this to her.”
“I-” Jaehyun doesn’t even know what to say. “I couldn’t possibly accept this-”
“You can, and you will, your King demands it,” Johnny teases. “You know, the whole ‘sending Doyoung to ask my sister to marry him’ thing was just a ploy to get you to act on your feelings, but I never imagined it would happen this fast.”
“You orchestrated this?” Jaehyun asks in shock.
“Of course. My sister always had this weird thing about ending up in a wild Kingdom, the North, or the West- I wanted to show her that she’d do better with someone from our own kind of land, someone more peaceful, less headstrong, that sort of thing.” Johnny sighs, forcing the small engagement ring box into Jaehyun’s hands. “She’s a summer girl, and everyone knows Summer works best with one of their own, or someone from the Spring Kingdom. All I’ve ever wanted for her was happiness, and I think she can attain that with you. You have my blessing, Jaehyun, don’t mess this up.”
Jaehyun nods. 
He won’t mess this up. There’s no way he would ever intentionally hurt you. The Knight of Roses will guard you with his life, as your husband, and your ultimate protector.
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I had so much fun with this fantasy au, and now... I'm going to plan my Halloween fic for this year, cuz I've gotta match how good Ghostie was from 2023
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🔮 preview. The Knight of Roses is so adept with his tongue- he’d spent hours eating you out on your honeymoon, taking the time to learn every inch of your body. He knows exactly what makes you tick, and you adore that he puts an effort into all things.
cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (sex in the forest), oral ( f recieving), body worship, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, praise, power play,  etc…  
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 1.8k I teaser wc. 135
🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyunl x afab!Reader
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 bonus
In the year since you and Jaehyun were wed, very little has changed. You’re still head over heels for him, and he’s still completely obsessed with you. It’s a beautiful little life- the two of you spending much of your time in the castle or the King’s Wood, where you’re currently training.
You’ve gotten so much better with your swordsmanship, and you can see the pride in Jaehyun’s expression every time you even slightly get the best of him.
You get the sense that he’s still holding back- your husband would never, ever, ever hurt you, not even while training, and it fills your heart with love every time you see him adjust himself or use less power in a blow.
“Don’t be scared, my love,” you tease. “You don’t have to hold back today.”
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jadedchainsaw · 6 months
Text
One Piece men if you ask them to peel you an orange/tangerine
Through the good graces of our girl Nami, she let you have one of her precious tangerines, but you don’t want to peel it so instead you go to bug one of your crewmate’s.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
———————————————————————
Luffy:
“Hey Luffy, can you-“
“Oh thanks, a snack!”
He eats it whole, right out of your hand
You: 😦
“Did you want something?”
Zoro:
Already grumpy that you woke him up from a nap but begrudgingly agrees, holding out his hand
The dumbass tries to split it in two with his bare hands
Gets the juice in his good eye
RIP
Sanji:
(If you identify as a woman)
As if you have to even ask this man
He snatches the fruit out of your hand the second you walk into the kitchen
Peels and plates it fancy, like a rose.
And he makes a tea out of the orange peels (we love a zero waste ship-household)
(If you identify as a man)
“Peel it your damn self.”
Damn
Usopp:
Agrees to peel it for you but now you have to listen to one of his made up stories.
“You know, this reminds me of the time I single handedly saved a city from a vicious orange-a-saurus! What, you’ve never heard of it? Well it’s a savage beast, three times the size of the sunny with razor sharp-“
You get the picture
Chopper:
Agrees to peel it for you, but he can’t quite get it with his hooves
You end up peeling it and sharing the fruit together
Franky:
He makes a little robot to peel the orange for you
Dubs it the “Franky peeler-nator 500”
he and the little robot strike a cool pose
Brook:
He happily agrees to peel it for you
He’ll tell you a story about his old crew and Laboon
“Oh my, this orange juice sure feels sticky! Or it would if I had any skin! Yohoho!
Now, may I see your panties-“
Jinbe:
Of course he’ll peel it for you
He’ll hand each slice to you one at a time as he steers the ship
Kind of like a dad and his kid
Killer:
Agrees, but he’ll slice it instead of peeling it
Still plates it nicely for you
Kid:
You’re better off asking killer but if you’re that determined-
“What are ya’? A fucking baby?”
Does it after some convincing, but he’ll loudly complain about getting it under his nails
Law:
“No.”
Slams the door in your face
You walk away dejectedly but you hear his office door open again and Law heavily sigh, motioning for you to come back so he can peel it for you
657 notes · View notes
imaginesmai · 7 months
Note
Hiii I absolutely adore your fics! Especially the angst 😭😭
I was wondering if you could you write something super angsty about when Az comes back from the dungeons after torture and he just looks so... broken.
Y/n (his mate) first comforts him, ofc, but then she's so pissed at Rhys for making Azzy do this that she goes to pick a fight with him. Maybe even the others have to step in after the fight starts to get physical...
You asked for angst and you shall recieve! I kind of imagine Azriel being quite closed off about his missions, so I hope I made this right! Feel free to make more requests, and thank you for your kind words!
Warnings: mentions of violence against children and their death, kind of mean!Rhys but not cruel nor hateful, just a bit dumb. Not a hate Rhysand fic.
Breaking point - Azriel
The fire had already died down, and the dinner was cold. You had spent half of your afternoon cooking, and the other half choosing your best dress. The one that kept Azriel’s eyes captured all night, that seemed to be a magnet for his hands.
It was rare to have a night for the two of you, between his work and yours as an emissary. It was rare to have him accept that night without responsibilities, but lately you always found some excuse to be together. Not mated for too long, Azriel found himself drifting away from his work to your presence.
That wasn’t the case that night.
You stared at the last candle as the fire consumed it, minutes away from turning off. Azriel had closed his side of the bond early in the morning, before you started your shift, but you tugged at it once more. Briefly, softly, tired of hours of waiting with no result.
Part of you wondered if dating the shadowsinger would be always like that. You had never complained about him his work before you, but that night was starting to feel too long.
The brief rush of air from the door being opened turned the candle off, and you turned around with a scowl ready. Your high-heels laid forgotten next to the door, and that would have been enough other times to make Azriel feel bad.
But you watched as Azriel left his own shoes next to yours without saying anything, his shoulders tense and his wings dropped.
“Az” you stared, squinting your eyes to see in the darkness of the night. “Is that blood?”
“Not mine”
His answer was harsh, like the edges of his body. Once your eyesight accommodated to the dark, your discovered that there was indeed blood. Not only the smudge on his neck that you had seen, but also on his clothes. On his wings, dripping to the floor. Dried on his shoes, that had left a few prints on the wooden floor. His hands seemed too crusted with it.
You rose from the chair and he looked at you. His face already looked crestfallen, but after noticing your dress and the dinner table, slumped more. Azriel must have forgotten about the dinner, the date and everything else. You didn’t usually talk about the details of his job, yet you gathered it took a stroll on him most of the days.
Going against every fiber of your body that had been angry minutes ago, you walked towards him barefoot.
“I’m sorry” he sighed, turning around to hang his coat. “Lost track of the time down there. I… forgot”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t sure food was edible. It did smell weird” you tried to change the mood, but he didn’t look at you. “Everything okay? That’s a lot of blood”
“Not mine” he repeated. “It’s been… complicated. Do you mind if I take a shower? We can reheat dinner and eat in the couch. I’m sure we can savage something”
“Sure. There are some leftovers from yesterday”
Azriel was a tough male, and hated to talk about his feelings. You had learned that through hard years of friendship where he didn’t let on any feelings towards you, just cold indifference. Being mated changed some things, but other stayed the same.
It would have been a mistake to try and drag answer out of him, so you let him get away to the shower. He gave you a tense smile and walked out, ignoring the worried glance you casted.
Sounds of clothes hitting the floor filled the silent apartment. You doubted what would be best, if talk to him or leave him alone. Maybe he wanted to be alone, you tried, because he hadn’t asked for your presence. Shared showers were common in your household, but not that time. Biting your lip, you considered what to do until you heard the soft brush of his wings against the tiles of the bathroom.
Azriel wouldn’t be dragging his wings through the floor if he wasn’t devastated.
Fae hearing and smell weren’t a good ally to surprising people, so he didn’t say anything when you closed the bathroom door behind you and undressed. His bulky form took almost all the space, shadows gathering close to the sink and on every corner of the small bathroom.
They brushed against your feet when you pushed the curtain aside and squeezed yourself between him and the wall. There was no way of knowing if those were tears or drops of water on his cheeks, but he still smiled at you.
“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow” he tried, his voice sounding vacant. “I’m not feeling like it right now”
“It’s the first and last time you’ll hear me say this, but I’m not thinking about that right now. Do you want to talk about it?”
“About me not wanting – “
“About today, love. I’m right here if you want to talk” you wrapped your arms around his chest, staring up at him. “Maybe it’ll feel better if you let it out”
“Doubt it”
Azriel was a head taller than you, bigger in every aspect, but your eyes still bored into him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and his left wing twitched. It was unusual for you to have his naked form so close and do nothing about it, for him to have his favorite parts of you within reach and do nothing.
But that night you weren’t thinking about any of it as his breath shuddered for the first time since you had known him, as composure seemed to crack a little.
His face was pure anguish for a moment, all pain, devastation and sorrow. Every feeling he had comforted you through broke through his face at once. Drops of water fell from his soaked hair, that covered most of his forehead. There was no way of knowing if those were tears of just water, but there was a suspicious salty scent on the air.
“I want to be here for you, but you have to let me” you assured him, squeezing him tighter in your arms. A primal need was born in you to keep him whole, to be the glue to his broken pieces.
“It’s not something you want to hear”
“Nothing you can tell me will make me love you less, or see you different. I already love every part of you”
“Not this part” his voice sounded tight, desperate, as he made eye-contact with you.
“That’s for me to decide, Az, and I’ve already decided. What’s the matter?”
Azriel still seemed to doubt for a second. His hand searched for the back of your hair and he tugged at it aimlessly. He tangled his fingers, now clean of blood, between your soaked locks. As if the words he was about to say would break him in two, he was steadying himself against the wall with his free hand.
Maybe they were, you thought. Azriel never shared his feelings with you. He was a closed person that barely let you inside his heart as his own mate, but you were okay with that. You would give him time, every minute and second he needed, until he was comfortable with giving you his heart.
That moment seemed important enough to deserve a short pause. Azriel’s throat worked around the words, his heart speeding.
“There is a man, in the mountains. He owns a cabin deep in the forest, at least ten miles away from the nearest civilization post. Rhysand has been keeping tabs on him for a while, for some… suspicious activities”
“What activities?”
“Children. Going missing” he explained briefly, avoiding the further explanation. Him sharing something about his life outside you and your family was enough though. “It’s been going on for a while. Devlon’s daughter was between the missing ones, so the camp lord finally demanded something to be done about it”
“And you were the one to do it”
You kept your annoyance to yourself, your thoughts about Rhysand using your mate as his personal guard dog. You might love Rhysand as your High Lord and friend, but the things he made Azriel do were enough to keep your distance from him sometimes.
That time, you braced yourself for Azriel’s information and tried to be as open as possible.
“Yeah”
Azriel took another pause, and that time you were sure those were tears filling his eyes. For any answer, you leaned a bit forward and got on your tiptoes to press your lips to his jaw. It was a soft, brief kiss against his stubble that had him shuddering once more. His head fell even lower after that.
“So that’s where you’ve been all afternoon. That’s fine, no different from any other day” you contemplated when he didn’t continue. “What really happen, Az?”
“You don’t want to know”
He made his intention, his thoughts, clear for a second time. Yet there was a hidden urge on his voice that pressed you to keep asking. The bond was still closed off, but through the cracks of his part, you could feel the need to share it. It was clear that he didn’t want you to be the person to share it with, and you would have normally respected his choice.
But there were tears on his eyes, actual tears on your precious mate’s eyes that were shattering your own heart into pieces. Your strong, brave shadowsinger was breaking in that tiny shower and you were dying to be there for him.
“Azriel”
You just needed his name. It was like a prayer, like an order or a command, like a petition. He used to tell you that you saying his name was enough to put him to his knees, that buckled at the sound. Azriel’s face broke into a grimace and he suck a breath before he finally broke down.
“He kept those children in cells in his own basement. They were so skinny, so small, he wasn’t feeding them” Azriel’s breath sped up, as his words stumbled down his throat. He broke eye-contact and stared at a spot in your collarbone. “I couldn’t tell one apart from another, because he heard I was coming and burned them all down. There was no one left alive”
It took you a moment to separate the horror of the story of his own horror. The one that marked his hands that held you so lovingly, that made you coffee each morning and ticked you in the early mornings. His stepbrothers had burned his hands down, and since then, Azriel hadn’t been near an uncontrolled fire.
“I tried to save them, so save any of them. But they were all ashes”
When Azriel leaned down so he could rest his head against your shoulder, you only held him tighter. When the water turned cold and he started shivering, you just turned it off in silence and guided him to bed.
You dried him with soft touches, stopping to touch every inch of his scarred hands. Helped him get into comfortable clothes and laid with him in silence, letting him knowing you weren’t going anywhere – at least yet. You stared at him with a small smile until his eyes closed and his body relaxed, his breathing finally becoming even.
For good measure, you brushed his hair out of his face. There was no need for him to happen what had happened next. The blood on his clothes, the stains on the wooden floor. You were sure there were specks of blood in his wings, where he couldn’t reach.
Nothing Azriel told you would drag you away from him. He could become a monster and you would destroy the world with him. But that night, after hours of staying awake just staring at him safe from the horrors of the world, you got up and put back your clothes.
Then, you winnowed away.
-
Rhysand had been finishing reports when he noticed the breach in his home. Cassian was sitting on the couch, half-asleep with un-done reports on his own desks.
He had been waiting for Azriel’s that night, but he guessed he would receive it the next morning. When he noticed the breach, he guessed it was his spymaster bringing back information from his latest task.
Rhysand didn’t expect you appearing out of thin air on his office, with a murderous look on your face. He raised his brows lightly, and got up from his chair. He didn’t miss the way you were clenching your fists, so he decided not to cross the barrier between you and him.
“Y/N” he called your name carefully. “It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Azriel just came home. Destroyed. And I’m supposed to be asleep?”
“What happened?”
The mean, sarcastic laugh you barked at his question wasn’t the ‘you’ Rhysand knew. The kind emissary that settled political relationships between courts, that lighted up his brother’s darkness. You snorted again when you looked at his expecting face.
“You mean besides completing yet another cruel mission for you, one he was clearly too attached to? Why do you always send him for the worse ones? What makes your sanity more worthy than his?” you extended an arm and pointed vaguely around the room. “You’ve been here, sitting so comfortably, while my mate was getting his hands dirty on your name. And you dare to ask about – “
“I don’t sit here comfortably, I don’t value my sanity over his. Where is this coming from?”
It wasn’t the first time you had that argument, more common during the last few years. Even when Azriel was just your friend, you had always spoken against his role in Rhysand’s court. You had seen the bags under his eyes, the weight of his actions that he didn’t share with his family.
Cassian perked up from his spot at your argument and raised voices, and noticed the hostile atmosphere immediately. It was hard not to, when your own power was making the lights tremble and your eyes spark.
“Because you are draining him! He’s not a weapon you can yield against your court, he’s part of your family and your brother. And you’re gonna end up hurting him”
“You’re not the person to talk about my court or how I handle those matters. You’re not High Lord and certainly not around enough to question my rulership”
“I am his mate, the one who picks up the pieces. What you do with him isn’t family or brotherhood, is extortion and manipulation” you busted out, taking a step closer. “You saved him, good for you! That was centuries ago! And now he feels like he owns you his life and you just throw him around!”
“Careful there, Y/N. I don’t appreciate how you’re talking right now” the high lord growled under his breath, his own power waking up.
“We should talk about this in the morning”
Cassian tried to interfere, but you didn’t pay attention to him when Rhysand stepped away from the table and towards you. It wasn’t your friend who stood before you, the man you had laughed with and worked for during many years. It was the responsible of your mate’s pain and all you saw was read and hate and Azriel’s first tear rolling down.
You bared your teeth at him like a wild animal, you guessed. You were coming at him with everything you had kept through the years, and maybe it was rushed and mean, but it wasn’t unfair.
“Azriel is my brother, and he’s a valuable resource for our court that I carefully blade against – “
Rhysand’s words died down when your fist collided with the side of his mouth. He stumbled against the table, a pen rolling off. Cassian finally rose from his seat and opened his mouth to warm Rhysand, to stop you or to do something. But he didn’t move as your hand lowered again against your High Lord. You pushed him away from you, and any answer or complain Rhysand had died down when he finally focused on your face.
There were tear tracks down cheeks, and you didn’t look angry anymore. You looked desperate, broken, so sad that it robbed Rhysand’s breath.
He kept still as you pushed him once more, now his body rigid against your touch. You chocked on a sob when he didn’t flinch, your fist hitting the side of his chest. He didn’t stop you when you kept hitting him, pushing him, as you cried down every truth in that room.
You’re hurting my mate
You’re going to kill my mate
Please just leave him alone
It was your begging that made him realize that his mistakes. The sorrows that you poured in them that he saw himself in, when Feyre was hurt. It made him wonder what kind of brother he was for driving Azriel’s mate to that state.
Rhysand took everything you gave him and ordered Cassian with a silent look to leave. The male obeyed with a sharp look, disappearing minutes before your knees finally gave out and you crumbled after a weak punch. You hid your face in your hands as Rhysand tried to keep you straight. Your body shook with sobs and you didn’t have it in you to feel bad when shadows caressed your shoulders as Azriel winnowed behind you.
Your mate gently grabbed you in his arms and helped you get up. Not once he looked at Rhysand, not once he acknowledged his brother’s desperate tries to meet his eyes and speak into his mind. Azriel just held you together as he winnowed back to your bed, where he had noticed you had left him to do what he was too afraid to say himself.
“Just let him be happy” you whined one last time as shadows covered you both. His arms pulled you farther against his embrace. “You fucking prick, let me be happy”
Rhysand watched you two disappear without catching his brother’s eyes once. Azriel only looked at you with a mix of adoration and gratitude, and kept Rhysand off his mind. The High Lord stared at the empty spot you had left for a while, caressing his already bruised jaw.
Then, he fell to his chair and let the doubts and mistakes crowd his mind.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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Azriel taglist:
@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend
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coeurify · 1 year
Text
THE PERFECT PAIR;
ELLIE WILLIAMS
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·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."
pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k
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There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?
You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.
“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.
“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”
“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”
“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.
“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.
Was it a little true? Maybe.
It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.
Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.
A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.
Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.
But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.
So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”
Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”
The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.
“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.
Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.
You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.
“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”
���Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.
“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.
“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.
“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.
“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”
You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”
“I don't want to, dude.”
The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.
When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.
“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.
“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”
The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.
“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”
Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”
Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.
You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.
“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”
You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”
Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”
Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”
Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.
The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.
“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”
Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”
“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.
“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.
“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”
Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”
The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”
Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.
The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.
Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.
“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.
“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”
Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”
The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”
Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”
“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”
The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”
A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.
els
she axe murder u?
You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.
you
why? worried abt me? 🤨
els
just wanted to see u say i was right
you
k🖕🖕
The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.
“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.
When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.
els
come over and watch smthn?
els
i got ur fave snack from the caf
You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.
“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”
You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.
“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.
“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.
els
???
You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”
Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.
None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.
You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.
Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.
Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.
Especially when you stopped answering her texts.
She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.
Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.
Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.
So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.
In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.
But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’
But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.
Yea, that’s all it was.
So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.
Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.
She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.
Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.
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series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu
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stuckysbike · 7 months
Text
More Than One Valentine
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A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.
Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader
AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.
Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader
-
Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.
It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.
In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.
You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.
“What?” You stuttered.
“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.
“I - but - we-“
“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.
It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.
So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.
It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.
And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.
Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.
“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.
Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.
So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.
You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.
You should have prepared for a broken heart.
Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.
At least you tried to.
“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.
You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.
“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.
“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.
You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.
They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.
Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.
Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.
“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.
Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.
Your heart broke a little more.
And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.
Where Steve asked Bucky took.
“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”
And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.
You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.
“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”
You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.
When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.
“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.
Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.
“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.
In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.
Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.
And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.
You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.
“Colour?” You asked.
“Green!” Steve said urgently.
“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”
Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.
Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.
Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.
His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.
“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.
And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.
“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.
Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”
Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”
When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.
You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.
When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”
You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.
You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.
“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”
Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.
“Colour?” You checked.
“Green,” Steve said.
“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”
Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.
You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.
You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”
“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.
You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.
“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.
Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.
When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”
Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.
“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.
You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.
“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.
He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“
“Colour?” You asked.
“Green,” Steve practically slurred.
You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.
“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.
A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.
Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”
You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.
“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.
Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”
“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.
Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.
Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.
Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.
His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.
And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.
“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”
You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.
“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.
“Please Bucky,” you whined.
Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.
“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”
“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.
“Colour?” Bucky asked you.
“So fuckin’ green!” You said.
“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.
Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.
Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.
Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.
Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.
His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.
With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.
Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.
“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”
Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”
Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.
“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.
Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”
The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.
Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.
You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.
“Is he good?” You prompted.
“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.
“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.
Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.
Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.
“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.
A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.
Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.
“I should go,” you said suddenly.
“No!” They both said at once.
You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”
Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”
Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”
You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.
“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”
You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.
Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.
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mochinek0 · 1 month
Text
Looking Back (Part 2)
Lila looked around the reunion, annoyed. Adrien wasn't anywhere to be seen. The people she had control over weren't either. Lila smiled, spotting Marinette.
'Time to ruin her day. It'll be just like old times.'
"Marinette!" Lila smiled, walking up to her, "You can call me Mrs. Agreste. Adrien and I got married, after all."
"Congratulations!" Mari smiled.
Lila tried to keep the shock off of her face.
'Where are the tears? Where is the screaming?'
"We should go." A man walked up to Marinette spoke, "The kids are asleep, already."
'Kids? Marinette knows this guy? He's hotter than Adrien! How could she know him or his kids?'
"Already?" Marinette asked, "Oh, I guess it is late."
"Kids?" Lila asked, trying to keep the conversation going, "You.....have kids?"
"Oh, this is my husband." Marinette answered, "We got married seven years ago. We have a five year old and a two year old."
Before she could find out more, her husband pulled her towards the exit.
"Bye Mari!" her friends shouted, "Bye, Damian!"
Mari just waved and kept walking.
'I will not be ignored!'
"Bye Marinette!" Lila cried out, "I can't believe you're still so rude to me. You couldn't even say bye?"
Marinette stopped, turned and smiled, "Sorry, Lola. Bye."
'Lola?'
Lila seethed in anger. She had always thought of Marinette as her enemy, but it seemed she was just some distant memory to her.
Marinette's friend group continue to laugh after she had walked out of the reunion.
"I can't believe she called her that!" Ivan laughed.
"I wish I had recorded it." giggled Rose.
Lila stomped away, humiliated. She rushed outside of the venue and called Alya.
'She always answers! She's hopeless without me!'
Lila didn't expect Alya to be with the others.
"Oh it's you! Miss 'Popularity' herself!" Alya smugly replied.
"Excuse me?" Lila asked, "Alya this isn't like you."
"Oh, it's not?" she questioned, "Maybe I should drink more often then."
'She drunk. So she's useless. Wait! Maybe, I can use this to my advantage!'
"Alya, Marinette was so mean-" she began.
"All of Marinette's friends are successful!" Alya shouted, "Why do we all suck?"
'Huh?'
"Yeah!" Kim shouted, "We've listened to you since junior high! We trusted you! I have a gut and stuck as a PE teacher! Odine is at the Olympics!"
"Nino listened but he only hangs out with Adrien! After we broke up, he just got.....better!" Alya sneered, "He's a DJ who travels all over and I'm stuck running errand for other people at Tvi. I'm not even a reporter!"
"Why does Adrien saying you're un-fuckable?" Alix questioned.
"Excuse me?" Lila gasped.
Nathaniel scoffed, "He said he never dated you and he never would. Mr. Model was crying how he missed out on marrying Marinette and how you're not even his type!"
"Kitty Section listened to Marinette and they're famous!" Alix continued to rant. "Max works for her husband's company and he makes millions. It's like a millionaire club with them."
"Why are Marinette and her friends amazing people and all the people that listened to you miserable?" Alya sneered.
"Yeah!" the rest cried out.
Lila scoffed and hung up the phone. She tried to make the best of it and talk with other people, but she could see people pointing at her out of the corner of her eye. She pretended not to see them giggling and whispering at each other. She quickly made a break for the bathroom to collect herself. She hid in one of the stalls and took a deep breath. No one could know they got to her. They probably heard her call herself Mrs. Agreste.
'Stupid! I should have whispered it to her.'
"Who knew Marinette was such a savage!" she heard a girl say, as the door opened.
'Seriously?'
"She's matured so much!" Lila heard another voice speak.
"I know." the first voice answered, "I'm so happy for her. She went through so much shit with Chloe."
"Hey, did you believe about her being a bully?" the other voice questioned.
"Bullying Rossi?" they scoffed, "Hell no! Lila is a whiny bitch. She acted like she was four."
The second person laughed, "And those fake 'Pity Me' tears."
They both laughed.
"But Marinette callign her Lola-" they continued to laugh.
"Lila Rossi really is the Loud Obnoxious Lying Anti-Christ." one giggled.
"Juleka told me it use to be worse." the other continued.
"How?" they replied.
"Before she was 'LOLA', they would call her the 'STB: Stupid Thoughtless Bitch'." the girl answered.
Lila heard the other person snort.
"Then, they had to teach her safe sex before Wayne, so Mari started calling her an STD cuz she was like an infection that was hard to get rid of." the same girl continued.
"Wait?" one girl spoke, "Why did they have to teach her? She must have known by then."
Lila heard a giggle, "Apparently her and Wayne were eye fucking each other so badly when Mari started working at WE. You know she's the Wayne family's personal designer, right? Jagged Stone introduced them."
"Oh yeah. Didn't she make his Eiffel tower sunglasses when she was 13?" the other questioned.
"Yep. She did those and then worked on his album covers." one declared, "Not to mention the outfits he wore on stage, but seriously imagine undressing your future husband before even being with him."
"I can certainly see the perks." they replied.
"Anyways, the tension was so bad that Kitty Section went to Bruce's office to say he would likely get a grandchild soon, if his son didn't man up an d ask her out." one recalled, "They said it was like being one snap away from them going at it like animals at the office. Damian walked in and told them to stay out of his life and slammed the door. Bruce shouted he'd love grandkids and the next day Wayne asked her out."
"Damn." the other laughed, "From Ice Prince to Simp for Paris' Sweetheart?"
"Better than being known as Paris' Trashy Whore." the other scoffed, "Did you hear Rossi was trying to claim to be married to Adrien?"
"Shut up!" the other yelled, "She did not!"
"Yep." the other stated, "Hard to believe when Agreste was eye fucking Mrs. Wayne til Lola's Pack took him to the bar."
"Guess she's not such a frined now, huh?" the second girl called out.
"Let's go before Lola shows up." the first one declared, "She's bound to skulk in some bathroom 'til her group shows up and saves her from embarassment."
Lila heard the door open and close. She hadn't moved a muscle from whn they started talking. It wasn't until she blinked that she realized she was crying.
'That's why she didn't care.'
Marinette had always been the winner. No one had believed her. The few people that did were slowly turning against her. They were too drunk and were now blaming her for making their lives miserable. By tomorrow, they probably would have forgotten they said that.
Alya was constantly complainign about Nino's success now. Kim had lost to Odine too may times after their break up that he started to compulsively eat. He had lost his swimmer's body and had a giant gut. He'd poke it and complain about his life. His dating life wasn't that much better. He was constantly telling people 'He wasn't always like this. How he was ruined.'
Neither she nor Adrien modeled anymore. He worked for Gabriel and was plain miserable. He constantly complained about being watched and how he felt like he as under a microscope.
On the other hand, she would bring up about being a model and the date wouldn't end well. They would usually huff and tell her to pay for herself. Lila had finally shouted on one of her dates and questioned why. They replied they would only be wasting money on a salad or for her to throw up in the bathroom later. She stopped bringing it up after that.
Lila looked around. She was still in the toilet stall. Marinette was married with kids. Marinette was wealthy and married wealthy as well. Marinette had friends; she was famous and doing what she wanted.
She was still trying to find a guy to seduce to let her be a housewife and have access to an unrestricted credit card. Lila couldn't stop the sob that escaped her mouth. She had threatened Marinette in the bathroom and the bathroom is exactly where her dreams were shattered. No 'Prince Charming' was ever coming for her. She had chosen the wrong path in life and was now stuck on it. Her friends were just as friendly as she was. Everyone in her life was just as two-faced as she was and she hated it.
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johnbrand · 2 months
Text
Call to Action
William was getting antsy in the airport, crossing his legs and kicking his feet anxiously as he awaited his flight. It had been nearly two months since he had last seen his long-distance boyfriend and the excitement was riling him up. William had been preparing for this trip for weeks now. Everything was packed, the shuttle from the airport coordinated. As soon as he landed he would quickly change from his plane pajamas to a fancier outfit to surprise his true love.
All of this made William bouncy with a child-like giddiness. The two had been lovers since their first year of college, but William’s boyfriend had made it clear early on that senior year he planned to study abroad. Even though this separation was planned and temporary, the young, romantic William had swooned since the day he left. He practically looked the part too, his average, lean build and mousy brown hair perfectly accompanying the lovelorn persona.
Doing his best to distract himself, William grabbed for his phone, surprised to find an unknown number trying to reach him. With nothing better to do, he decided to accept the call. William did not notice all the other men in the airport simultaneously reaching for their phones and answering the same number through their devices.
“Men!” a rugged, masculine voice exclaimed from the other end. “It is our time to rise up to save our country!”
William was not prepared for this sudden call to action, but curious, he remained on the line. He did not realize his decision was already made for him.
“Men should be with women! Men need to become fathers again!”
William’s eyes glazed over at the strong words as the masculine voice continued to spout even more offensive remarks. It was jarring, aggravating to a point that…aggravating to a…aggravating to his dick.
William let the man’s uproar of commands project on, unaware of the small boner that rose from his soft pants as insults were delivered at his masculinity. Each of the man’s statements were absorbed willingly into William’s innermost self, adjusting the poor boy to the expectations of a complete stranger. William’s height rose dramatically, a soft breeze tickling against his shins as his pants rode higher up. His thighs and calves began to fill the empty space as the pants became a starchy material, khakis functional either indoors or outdoors. His shoes too, once cheap sandals, grew larger into massive athletic sneakers that (thanks to his manly privilege) passed as "business casual."
“Straighten out those backs and puff those chests!” the voice urged, and William obliged. His muscles tightened beneath the worn-out tee, which was quickly thickening into a sporty-yet-still-professional polo echoing a more standardized hue. William’s chest, now supported by hard-earned bulk, began to cover itself with little hairs while his entire being broadened and squared. The changes crawled out from underneath the new shirt down his arms, leaving William with tanned, lightly dusted appendages and thick mitts begging for a game of catch on the front lawn. A single finger was graced with a simple silver band.
William’s manhood continually throbbed with the man’s words, pulsing larger with every new mandate ordered upon him. “Your role is to reproduce a spitting-image, not a spitting savage!” William felt himself agree, tightening the typical leather belt that had secured itself around his stronger base. His evolving cock protested the loss of freedom, now a machine for fertilization built for a purpose other than sheer pleasure. “You are a man, so act like one!”
“I am a man!” William repeated, his vocal chords deepening with maturity and testosterone. His jaw squared out with manly aftershave, years brutishly piling onto his body to make him better prepared for fatherhood. William's hair flattened out into a neatly combed shape, a long-practiced art form that matched his weathered, experienced eyes.
“Families and jobs are the priority.” the man signed off. “Father our children, father our country!”
Bill placed the phone down, noticing his flight had just arrived. The 30-something-father watched as the passengers got off, noticing all the proud men with their families. The thought aroused his massive paternal schlong, quickly forcing him to spread his legs to make some room. Bill had just finished a week-long corporate retreat, talking business, the home life, and politics with the other like-minded men out on the greens. Now though, he was excited to get home to the wife and kids. So excited in fact that he had to hear his voice one last time.
“Hey hun, boarding the plane now. Have dinner ready by the time I get home." Bill's command held the dominance and authority of natural masculinity. "Tell the kiddos I'll see them soon, love ya.”
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n0tamused · 3 months
Note
Came across House of Dragons and kinda got invested then I saw you accept Jiyan requests so now I’m kinda thinking what a mixture of the two would be like….Jiyan with his own dragon riding in Westeros…Jiyan courting you despite protests from his court…Jiyan protecting his queen from anyone that tries to hurt her or his heirs…idk I am just a causal watcher I have no clue what’s actually going on in GoT and HoD tbh
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A/n: I'm uploading this from my phone because I just can't wait to post this, so if there's formatting or grammar errors - rest assured, I'll do my best to get to it once I get on my laptop. Where do I begin though? 😭 My goodness, you couldn't have sent me a better idea than this one oml. I'm smooching you on the head istg, thank you so much for this request! And I hope you enjoy this jumbled ramble <3 I'd love to do more of this little au and I most definitely will, and for some other characters as well.
Contents: Jiyan x Reader, headcanons, you/yours, written with a F! Reader in mind, dragonrider reader and Jiyan, Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon universe, pregnancy, angst, happy ending, somewhat arranged marriage lol, tell me if there's anything else to tag.
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-War had taken many noble houses to an early grave, leaving behind nothing but ghosts and ruin over the vast lands. The ones that remained standing were either the rich or the cruel. All except one.
-Jiyan, originally hailing from Jinzhou, and belonging to no noble or rich lineage. His mother was a notorious healer, and his father had long been lost to travels and war himself.
-He had joined the battles as a young green boy alongside his mother, moving beside the long columns of soldiers in their tattered armor and ringmail. All he could do was stare at them in wonder and question - Why do they spill so much blood? For what?
-There was no looming threat of the Others coming to claim their lives, it was just them - the people and the common folk, yet they fought each other like animals for a few extra inches of land or a few extra coppers in their liege lord's pocket.
-As much as Jiyan didn't wish to engage in the art of war and bloodshed and only wanted to heal and save, it became apparent, all too soon, that the way to survival and peace was through battle. Healing will get him nowhere, and if a good commander was not put at the front, it wouldn't matter how well he healed if two in three soldiers died, even after receiving his aid.
-The war changed him, hardened his heart and fortified his mind, until the healer he once was became only a distant memory. Spear replaced herbs, and instead of the tattered medic tunic he now donned armor and ringmail. A companion also joined his side after he ran into a deep cavern for safety during one particular battle. A large unclaimed dragon, which nearly took his head off now stood at his side like a mountain, guardian him day and night and heralding the doom of his enemies with a thunderous roar and loud snap of it's wings. The dragon was a beautiful pale green, with bronze horns and amber eyes with darker lines of green running over its back. It was a beauty as much as it was a beast. Men quickly took to respect him, and it became evident Jiyan’s person hid many talents besides that for medical aid and spear holding.
-The previous commander perished, another life taken by the savage ways of war, and Jiyan was appointed as the new commander by the soldiers after he rose to the occasion - having led them to success in war, as well as safety when the odds did not favor them.
-It was during his reign as the lead commander that the lands saw the end of the war. Blood was shed, yes, but not for naught.
-Upon his return to the central city, the throne was found vacant, the king slain along with his entire council. The word of it was that they were taken unawares from the seaside, and had no ways of defense, as all the manpower was at the front lines
-Jiyan came into his rule as king at a young age, far too soon, and yet despite all the doubt he had flourished quickly. Proving himself as an able and just ruler, unlike the ones that came before, his foundation as a commander giving him good wind in the back
-The city wasn't in good condition after the war, but in the years following Jiyan had sent many commands that would aid in its rebuilding
-Slowly, but surely, the common folk started to feel the dawn of a new age - summer has finally come.
-The one thing Jiyan has gladly forgotten about was marriage. As a king, it was expected of him to take a bride to be his queen, to have heirs and to start a new lineage that would, hopefully, carry better blood instead of the hot blood that sought destruction. It wasn't something he often thought about as other duties preoccupied him day in and day out. But it was neither something he was against.. Deep in his heart he would admit a thought of his own family did make him feel…alive. But how would that family fare in these conditions? With his status? This was nothing like his small village he grew up in, so the image he once had in his mind was no longer so clear.
-His mother was a person he'd eventually seek advice from regarding such tender subjects, earning himself a laugh occasionally, as his cluelessness was rather amusing. Where other Kings misused their power and gave commands as they saw fit, Jiyan exercised caution, and even sympathy for the bride he didn't even have yet.
-Eventually, a match was arranged, between him and a lady of a higher birth. His mother had met you before he did and vouched for your good character - but Jiyan remained nervous, vowing to keep his judgment and thoughts to himself until he met you himself.
-Your journey to the city was a long one, yet you entered the long and towering palace halls like a breath of fresh air. Keeping your lady wits about yourself and keeping your courtesies with you, you had quickly rubbed off on Jiyan. The wedding was still a matter of question, as Jiyan had insisted on giving you and your family the due time to explore the city and to see whether this was truly something they wanted to go through with. His compassion was answered in kind by many gifts sent from the city they hailed from, consisting of foreign fruits and vegetables to cattle and coins and silks.
-It was endearing. And the courtship between Jiyan and (Y/n) soon began, as the former began to make moves. He preferred to do so in some amounts of privacy, as the many eyes that followed him as King were uncomfortable and he swore he could never get used to them.
-This seemed to please and comfort his bride-to-be as well, and both of them would show their true colors. It was a rare thing for a royal match to be founded in love rather than simple responsibilities to make heirs, but it wasn't unheard of either.
-What they both had in common was that they were dragon riders. (Y/n)’s dragon was a stark comparison to his own with red scales and two pairs of black horns and dark amber eyes, the underside of the dragon’s wings being a shade of yellow that looked like gold under the sunlight. It was a terrifying dragon, arguably even more scary than his own mount.
-When no one was looking, the two would go down to the Dragon Pit and take their dragons to the skies, racing over the cities with one another or going over the seas to breathe the salty air. It was an escape from duty as well. The moment their dragons took to air, all status and responsibilities remained on the ground, and only the sky was the limit to their freedom.
-Jiyan relished in this freedom like a luxurious drink he could never tire of, and your laughter was a sound like no other.
-The dragons took to liking one another as well, and would dance in the air while the pair were seated on their backs, spinning and falling, and right before the ground came too close they'd pull away and take to the skies once more.
-The commonfolk took this as a good omen. The dragons ruled the skies again, and a good King was on the throne, with a good queen soon to join him.
-Jiyan would find himself inviting (Y/n) to his chambers in early mornings to break their fast together or late dinners to share their day with one another. It was as if the two were already married. And even that wasn't too far from coming true.
-The wedding was a big event. Tables and tents were set all the way out and around the keep as well as in the big ballroom inside. Although Jiyan would've preferred to keep the celebrations a modest one, the council insisted that this occasion warranted the eyes of everyone, the joy had to be shared. This once he gave in to their requests.
-Flower petals were thrown on them as they passed by the rows of commonfolk standing at the sides of the rode, him and his Queen riding at the back of an open carriage dragged by four horses, white and elegant with plumes in their manes. Everything was near perfect and out of a fairy tale.
-King and Queen would share their dance in the ballroom once they returned from the High Sept where they got married before the priest, sharing their first kiss - something Jiyan made sure to cover and hide to the best of his abilities by pulling your veil over both of your faces.
-The celebration lasted all the way into the eerie hours of the night. And both Jiyan and you were exhausted, and upon retiring to your shared bed chamber you simply collapsed onto the plush mattress.
-That night, Jiyan fell asleep with his lover in his arms, watching your soft breaths make your chest rise and fall in slow successions, his fingertips tracing the lines of your face and the skin of your back, until he couldn't resist the urge to sleep.
-This wasn't a life Jiyan asked for…but it was one he was glad for.
-Children came later. A lovely little daughter being the first to be born of the love from the King and Queen, bearing the signature feature of you. Jiyan was beyond happy.
-During the birth of his daughter he was in the city, conducting business over a new architecture project when news arrived that his Queen had gone into labor. It is believed he had never dropped a matter as quickly as he did that day, racing back to the keep and searching for his wife.
-Despite the protests of the midwives, he responded only to you, racing to your side and giving you comfort and encouragement if nothing else, welcoming the fruit of your shared love together. It was the first time Jiyan ever cried in front of anyone else. He had delegated some more of his duties to the others in favor of having the time to spend with his newborn and you, helping you recover from the birth.
-It wasn't rare to see Jiyan roaming the dark halls in the middle of the night to visit the kitchens for food for you, bringing back foods and snacks, whatever you wished, even the weird food cravings. Hell, sometimes he'd indulge in them alongside you. Once, during your first pregnancy you requested a big honeycomb, and it just happened Jiyan felt like a sweettooth that evening as well. That ended with you sharing quite a candid moment, lips sticky with honey with a waxy feel between your teeth as you tried not to laugh at one another.
-The second pregnancy was a boy, following two years after the daughter was born, and he came with a little more trouble. The new prince was quite a big baby, and the birth left you even more exhausted. A fever soon settled within you, greatly worrying Jiyan and the entire council. You could barely hold the boy to feed him without shaking, and the fever lasted for days.
-It was the scariest time of Jiyan’s life. Any moment spent away from you plunged a dagger into his heart that twisted itself further in. It pained him. And he nearly got sick himself from worry.
-There were maids around you constantly, when he couldn't assist you it was them that took care of you. His mother was close by as well, bringing you great herbal teas and green tea cakes and broths. The time for you was a blur, filled with uncomfortable heat of your body and sticky feelings of sweat.. does it ever end?
-It was as if the whe world was plunged into depression once you fell ill. Dark clouds corresponded with Jiyan’s bitter and grieving mood, and the dragons themselves were restless. In this time, the others, outside of his kingdom, saw it fit to attack and plunder the neighboring villages and cities.
-You had recovered enough to talk, but your days were still mostly spent by sleeping and eating.
-You could vaguely remember seeing Jiyan entering your chamber, holding your son for a short while before putting him back in his crib. A concerned look pinched his brows together, you could remember, as his gaze went to you.
- “My love?... Are you alright?” He'd ask as he kneeled by the side of your bed, taking your hand in both of his and kissing the knuckles that felt like they were ablaze underneath his lips. He was dressed in all armor, a sword at his hip. Why was he leaving?.. Where?
-It all seemed like a dream, an illusion borne from your illness, but it was real. He had a duty over the kingdom, and over you. Yet it pained him no less to leave the place he was closest to you. He had entrusted your care to his mother and the maids, and he had already bid farewell to your daughter. She had clung to him like a moss clings to a tree, asking him when he'd return.
-You couldn't give a reply, staring somewhere through him.
-Has the reign of peace perished so quickly?
-His dragon waited at the Dragonpits, and the troops were already marching out of the city gates when he took to fly over them, leading them to the front lines once more.
-You recovered in the following days, finding yourself alone - not literally, as there were maids and servants all flocking to you, but Jiyan wasn't there. His Hand sat the throne instead of him. And your children had grown significantly, as if years had passed instead of several days.
-Responsibilities choked you until you began to move, throwing yourself back into work and and duty. Your son was always at your hip or breast, making up for the time lost. And your daughter was always pulling at your skirts unless she was at her lessons.
-It was a restless period, and a terrifying one. The first letter you sent to Jiyan was met with an ecstatic response, him being overjoyed you were healthy again, yet he encouraged you to rest more.
-His other letters brought bitter news of losses and bloodshed and treason, but he reassured they were holding strong. You could only believe him.
-Months passed. Months. And a letter from Jiyan was yet to come in. It worried you. This everlasting silence, it was of more concern than the sorrowful letters.
-During one evening as you sat on one of the tall balconies of the palace, overlooking the city as your son cooed in your arms, you heard a shriek. One coming from your dragon in the Dragonpits. The dragon was as restless as you, her calls weren't foreign to hear, but this time her shriek was returned by a call of another.
-Your husband's dragon flew down from the murky clouds. The green dragon roared, splitting the sound mid air, earning another roar from your own dragon.
-Jiyan has returned.
-You’re unsure how you raced so quickly down to meet him, with a babe in your arms and not properly dressed either. Appearances didn't matter. Your husband's return did. He mattered.
-And once you saw one another, nothing else could hold you back from running into eachother’s arms, the baby carefully tucked between the two of you in a protective embrace as Jiyan kissed both of your heads, pressing his forehead against yours soon after, laughter shaking his shoulders and chest.
-He was sure he could cry right now, and seeing you shed tears of joy almost encouraged him.
-Jiyan knew he'd split the world in half if it meant keeping you whole and with him.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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dark-and-kawaii · 5 months
Text
Worth The Risk
Haarlep x f!Tav/Reader
⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: You knew the risk of carrying Haarlep’s child, knew it could end your life, yet you still pleaded with Haarlep not to intervene. Haarlep, despite your pleas, couldn’t imagine a life without their little dove.
⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I wrote this a long time ago but decided it was time to finally post it!!!
⋆˙⟡♡ Pregnancy | Angst
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As the savage agony of parturition tore through your body, your face twisted in harrowing torment, fingers digging into the flesh of your swollen belly. Beside you, Haarlep loomed, their gaze alight with an unholy blend of enthrallment and uneasiness. They found a perverse solace in witnessing the suffering of others, yet within this cruel spectacle, a sliver of apprehension flickered to life… This was you, not some brat cambion or mortal to pass the time…
You could feel yourself teeter on the brink of collapse, your screams piercing the air as your knees finally buckled. Compelled by a force they scarcely understood, Haarlep's hands reached for you before you crumpled beneath the unbearable onslaught. Their touch, paradoxically tender, cradled your quaking frame, their tail coiling around your leg, steadying you against the imminent descent onto the unforgiving ground.
It was odd. An incubus, a creature of seduction and ruin, serving as a pillar of support for another whom was trying to bear their child.
Chaos reigned, and within it, Haarlep's eyes grew round as they beheld a bloom of red seeping into the fabric of your gown. A torrent of foreign sentiment overwhelmed Haarlep, dragging down their heart, a heart once deemed impervious to the weaknesses of mortals, with a dread they had never known…
The incubus had bound themself to a code of restraint in their fervid trysts with you, vowing never to indulge, to feed, in excess so that they could keep you. Yet now, confronted with the life they had seeded within you… It would seem fate had cruelly conspired to make Haarlep the architect of your ruin.
Within the twisted catacombs of their mind, the incubus clawed through the dark recesses for an answer, a twisted salvation for you who had snared them in the most intoxicating bind. You were their prize, theirs to claim, theirs to torment, a soul ensnared by chains of a ravenous desire Haarlep would not, could not, break... A possession they refused to relinquish.
Damn the offspring, for you were the one that mattered, the beating heart the incubus was hell-bent on keeping tethered to this mortal coil.
The final vision bestowed upon you was a twisted sneer, yet the eyes of Haarlep, your beloved incubus, was filled with so much pain... pain you wished to cease, damns how you yearned to caress their face, to whisper that everything was okay. Alas, the abyss called to you, and your world dissolved into oblivion, your whisper lost in the void…
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Haarlep, an incubus known in realms for their insatiable hunger for the carnal, found themself lost in a moment so tender and new.
There, in the quiet of the room you lay upon the bed, a figure both broken and beatific, your skin a canvas painted with the sheen of exertion. Strands of hair, once perfect, now clung desperately to your damp forehead, framing your face in disarray. Your closed eyes, sunken with fatigue. The air was thick with the iron scent of birth and the unspoken fear of what had come to pass. Your chest rose and fell with labored effort, each breath a testament to the life that sprung forth from you, that had sipped greedily at your soul, leaving it frayed at the edges.
Beside you, lying on a silk pillow wrapped messily in a blanket, a newborn, an improbable result of Haarlep's latest conquest... The child, innocence incarnate, cooed and wriggled, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just transpired.
A war raged within the incubus, an inner turmoil so intense it threatened to tear him asunder. Their nature was to seduce, to corrupt, to feed on the lustful energy of others, not to nurture or to cherish. Yet, the sight of this tiny being, part of them, part of you, ignited an unfamiliar warmth that crept through them like a stray beam of sunlight piercing through a perennially dark forest, gently awakening the dormant life beneath its shadows.
Haarlep’s hand, more accustomed to leading others into sin than to acts of gentle kindness, moved on its own, as if enchanted, and wiggled it before their offspring. The newborn's tiny fingers wrapped around their larger digit, and a sensation that Haarlep could not name surged through them. It was as if the grip of this miniature hand had the power to anchor even the most chaotic of beings.
The incubus’s tail, an appendage that had tormented many, now danced softly, tickling the child, eliciting a gurgling giggle that filled the room with a purity that felt almost unpleasant. This sound, this unadulterated joy, was a melody Haarlep's ears had never known, yet it resonated within the corner of their heart that was solely meant for you.
Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze heavy with the remnants of pain and fatigue. As your eyes adjusted and focused on Haarlep, there was no fear, no judgment, only the hazy recognition of the father to your child. You caught them in this softness, this unguarded moment that was so perilously close to something like love.
With what little strength, you weakly shifted, turning to envelop your newborn in the cradle of your weary arms. Your eyelids, heavy with the weight of your ordeal, fluttered down as a sincere smile blossomed across your features, signaling a quiet triumph. Haarlep's tail came to rest gently across both you and the child, a silent but potent symbol of their unexpected guardianship.
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